...?"
I stopped in my tracks. It was that familiar tune. The one that Mama used to play.

-----

"MAMA!" I yelled as I padded into the kitchen. I ran to the familiar figure and latched my 5-year-old body onto her leg. "Mama, let's go play the piano today!"

My mother looked down at me with her beautiful sky-blue eyes. Those eyes which I had inherited and took pride in. "Not now, honey, I'm making dinner," she replied in that affable tone of voice I loved so much. I pouted. "Please...?" I replied. However, I knew that in the end, Mama would always give in to me. Mama looked at me and stared right into my eyes. "Alright," she said and I gave her the biggest grin I could managed. She switched off the stove and led me into the living room, where our grand piano was.

Mama had received it from one of our relatives who had moved away. It had been there even before I was born and I'd spent my childhood just sitting on the floor, listening to Mama playing the piano. "Now, what would you like me to play today?" Mama asked as she settled down onto the soft piano chair. I thought for awhile. "The...um...Camera Indeed!" I said, quite pleased at myself for remembering my favourite music piece's name. My mum let out a chuckle. "It's Canon In D, not Camera Indeed. Very well," she replied and started playing.

-----

Slowly, I inched forward towards the door of the Music Room. I couldn't deny it; I was half expecting my mother to appear in my school's Music Room, playing that oh so familiar tune that I loved. Although there was a part of me that reasoned that that was out of the question, I still had to see for myself. I put my face close to the glass panel on the door and used my hands to cup my face so as to block the light out. My heart sank. It was just some random student practicing.

I inevitably let out a sigh of disappointment as I made my way out towards the school gates. Mama had left when I was 11 years old, leaving only a single letter of contrite apologies and explanations.

-----

To my Darling Princess,

I'm so sorry I have to leave. I know I'm probably going to cause you lots of heartaches but I'm sure that when you grow up you'll understand why Mama had to go. As you know, your dad and I are going through a divorce right now and the law states that we have to live separately for awhile. I'm really sorry I can't bring you along with me, but I'm going to live at your Aunt Mariam's house for the time-being and there simply isn't any space for an extra person. I'm very, very sorry, honey. I promise I'll come back for you some day, OK? For now, please be a very good girl and listen to your father. He's not having it any easier than me, so I want you to bear with his temper for the time being, alright? Thank you, darling. I promise I'll come back for you, I really will. I love you.

Love,
Mama

-----

I took out my key and inserted it into the keyhole. I wondered about the promise Mama had made in that letter. Why had she even bothered to make it? I hadn't received a single call or letter from her ever since that first and last letter. I'd always yearned to see those familiar blue eyes at school events, ballet recitals, Sports Day...and yet...

I closed the door and locked it. Dad was still at work during that time of day, so I had the whole house to myself. I went up to my room and changed into more comfortable clothes. As I walked past my stereo on the way on, I suddenly stopped in front of it. 'Maybe just once,' I thought to myself. I opened the CD case that I had chucked haphazardly next to my stereo and put it into the stereo.

I plopped down onto my bed as the music started playing. Canon In D was still my favourite music piece, after all these years. I closed my eyes and just completely relaxed.

-----

"Mummy, teach me how to play Canon In D!" I said as I ran over to the piano. I pulled out the piano bench and sat on it. "Not now, darling," Mama said in this weird voice, kind of like she was struggling to get the words out. "Mama? What's wrong?" I asked, but she just shook her head and headed up to her room.

-----

I must have fallen asleep for quite awhile, because the next thing I knew, the orange sunlight of the evening sun was shining through my windowpanes. I sat up and stretched for while before pressing "Eject" on my stereo. I slowly made my way down to the living room. The coat rack was still bare and empty, meaning that Dad wasn't home yet. Just as I was about to heat up some TV dinner, there were three precise and clear knocks on the door. "Coming!" I said as I ran over and opened the door. "May I help-" I paused mid-sentence.

I stared straight into those blue eyes. Those oh-so familiar yet so distant pair of clear, blue eyes.

"Mama?"

He was my best friend, my favourite “hugging machine”, and the only one who gave me a helping hand on the first day of high school. His parents were famous composers, and he had inherited that gift. The gift I had always longed for. Sometimes I even felt jealous of him. He was so lucky in so many ways – he was rich, he was well-bred and he was talented. He even had a job, playing the piano in a grand hotel somewhere.

He was the one who taught me to play the piano; my dream ever since I was a young child, and he had helped me fulfilled it. I came from a poor family, with parents who could barely afford to send me for piano lessons. He was my life-saver. It feels so weird to think that just a month ago he had been by my side while I sat on the piano stool trying my best to play Canon in D.

“Come on, Eloise. Curve your fingers, don’t get distracted…”
I couldn’t do it. My fingers slipped off the keys. At that point, I was so frustrated I just wanted to blame the shiny black piano’s keys for being so… stiff. But I thought twice and decided to stop pushing the blame around.
“I can’t do it.”
“Yes you can. Remember what I told you?”
I sighed. “I know, I know, there’s no such thing as ‘can’t’.”
“So keep trying, and eventually you will succeed.”

He had always been extremely patient with me. Every Monday we would meet up at his apartment and he would begin the lesson. He would demonstrate the piece we were about to play once first, and then he would coach me. He laughed at the way I drew crotchet notes and called them lollipops. In college, we were teased and proclaimed a couple, but in truth, we were just best friends. I treated him like my big brother. There was never any romance. But I can confidently say I loved him.

Jake had been struggling with leukemia for some time now, no matter how well he had seemed to me. And just two weeks ago, he died. It was such a painful day. I couldn’t accept it at first. I yelled at his parents, accusing them of lying to me. But after a while, I knew they were telling the truth, and I broke down and cried my heart out all night.

For two days after Jake’s funeral, I stayed home all day practicing Canon in D over and over again until it was perfect. I had succeeded. Jake would be proud of me.

“Eventually you will succeed.”
These words still ring every so often in my head. And I had made it come true.

My bare feet constantly brushed against the cold, hard cement floor. Sticky bodies bumped into mine from all directions and moans dominated the airwaves. I flung my arms everywhere, hoping to find something to sit on or at least a wall to lean against. But the only things that my arms came into contact with were bodies, filthy ragged bodies. I let out a weak sigh and felt my knees buckle under the sheer weight of my haggard self. I landed with a heavy thud on the dirty floor and pulled my skimpy, bedraggled clothes tighter around me, afraid that I’d die from all the shivering.

I slowly closed my eyes as exhaustion washed over me, slowly recalling what lead to my arrest.

I’ve had a little bit too much, much
All the people start to rush, start to rush by
How does he twist the dance? Can’t find a drink, oh man

Loud, hypnotic beats pumped through the gigantic speakers of Club :Dance, sending numerous pulses through the dance floor. Disco lights flashed in all directions over the club, highlighting everything it touched. The bar was jam packed with drunkards, always ordering their “last” glass for the night. I fought my way through the crowd and made it to the glass counter top.

“Vodka and lime please, Tim,” I was a regular, and before I could even place my order, Timothy, the bartender was already stirring up my drink.

“Alone, Madisonne? Here you go,” Tim grinned as he gently laid my drink on the counter top.

“I’m never alone, Tim. You know that! The crowd follows me wherever I go,” I let a giggle escape from my mouth as I took my glass, slapped a ten dollar bill in its place and stalked off.

What’s going on on the floor?
I love this record baby but I can’t see straight anymore
Keep it cool, what’s the name of this club?
I can’t remember but it’s alright, a-alright

I slumped myself into my usual booth at the back end of the club and sipped my drink. As I set my glass back down, a lean figure slipped into the empty seat beside me.

“What will it be tonight, Maddy?” Desmond asked in a baritone voice.

“Hmm, how about some Ice? It’s been about a week since I’ve last had it,” I reached into my glittery handbag and fished out my wallet.

“Sure, Maddy. No problem. The usual number yeah,” Desmond mimicked my actions but produced five packets of Ice instead.

“Thanks, Des. You’re a lifesaver,” I pushed a few fifty dollar notes into his hands as I slipped out of the booth.

“Anything for you my dear, anything,” I glanced a smirk on his face in my peripheral vision as he too, slipped out of the booth stealthily.


I had to fight through another wall of bodies to make it to the ladies’ at the other end of the room. When I finally arrived at my destination, I wasted no time in finding an empty cubicle and locked myself in its tiny constraint. I groped my bag, desperately trying to find the precious packets of Ice. Something cold and soft came into contact with my fingers and I pulled it out. Transparent, crystal chunks stared back at me as I instantly felt awake. I emptied the whole packet into my mouth and felt my head go all light. I took the remaining four packets and stuffed them into a hidden pocket in my top. I stumbled out of the cubicle, out of the toilet and on to the dance floor.

Just dance, gonna be okay
Just dance, spin the record babe
Just dance, gonna be okay
Dance, dance, just, j-j-just, dance

Drugs may give me the high I need, but what took it to the next level was music. I lost my mind as I let the music flow through me, through every vein and organ. I flung myself in all directions and laughed out loud. I had no idea what I was doing, but I didn’t care.

Wish I could shut my playboy mouth
How’d I turn my shirt inside out? Inside outright
Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say
And we’re all getting hosed tonight

I bumped my body into whose ever body was next to mine. I swung my head left and right, up and down. A few women shot me angry and irritated looks, but I took no notice. I was just concentrating on the music.

Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, it’s symphonic
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, electronic

The beat of the music got louder and louder, and slowly it started ringing too loudly in my ears. I instinctively covered my ears with my hands, but the throbbing seemed to be stuck in my head. The room started spinning around and around and my vision blurred ever so slightly. Suddenly, a piercing scream broke the party atmosphere.

“Everyone run! The police are here! Run! Run!!” I didn’t hear this, like I said, all I could hear was the music.

I released my ears and let my arms fall slack.

Just dance, gonna be okay
Just dance, spin the record babe
Just dance, gonna be okay
Dance, dance, just, j-j-just, dance

I had no idea what my body was doing, all I did was to listen to the music, let it control me. This was the main reason why I only get high in clubs – only they have loud and powerful enough music to satisfy my needs.

A pair of big, sturdy hands suddenly clasped on my shoulders, preventing me from letting my hair down. The whole world stopped for a heart beat – I saw people frozen in their respective positions, I couldn’t hear the music I was so addicted to, I couldn’t feel the drugs I love pulse through me, and I felt as if nothing was holding me down.

Then it all came crashing down. My head had that horrible feeling again, as if the music was ten times louder than it already was and all the sound was trapped in my skull. A horrible, vile liquid started climbing up my throat and the room starting spinning awfully fast. My shoulders were aching too from all the weight those hands were putting on my frail frame.

Metal handcuffs bit into my wrists as the hands that were on my shoulder swept both my hands behind my back in one fluid movement.

“Follow me, Miss. And don’t you dare try anything funny, you’ll never get away with it,” A gruff voice breathed into my ear.

Before I had time to respond, I was being dragged unwillingly on my heels through the club to the main entrance. I wanted to fight back, talk back, do anything, but I simply did not have any energy left. I felt so hopeless, so small and useless. I began to weep – big, fat, salty tears streamed endlessly down my cheeks. Before I knew it, I was thrown hastily into the back of a police van.

Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, it’s symphonic
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, electronic

The city passed me in a blur of sound and lights. I was thrown around the van as it went over uneven road and blue blacks were beginning to form. Slowly the throbbing went away as the Ice lost its effect, but I felt worse. I wanted more, I needed more Ice.

The van screeched to a halt and the doors flung open. Another pair of burly hands that seized me was the brusque welcome I received at the station. Once again, I was dragged through the automatic glass sliding doors of the station and into an interrogation room.

I was pushed into a plastic chair in front of an oak table while someone else shoved a table light in my face and switched it on.

“Ouch! What the hell! Switch it off,” I turned my head away swiftly and made a “tsk” sound.

“You better not complain, Miss Madisonne. You’re in a hell of a lot trouble. Tell me, what were you doing at the club just now?” Officer Andy, according to his nametag, bore at me with sharp gleaming eyes.

“What else can I do? Having a nice drink and dancing to the greatest music ever,” I smirked at him and enjoyed immensely watching his face turn a deeper shade of red with every passing second.

“Could you then explain why you were seen buying drugs from a particular Desmond at 2200 hours?” It was his turn to have the upper hand.

“You must be mistaken, officer, I wouldn’t do such a thing,” I tried my very best to pull off the most convincing puppy eyes.

“So you’re saying that you have an identical twin eh, Miss Madisonne?” He slipped several shots of Desmond and I having the exchange, and several close ups of me.

Before I could say “I am screwed”, Officer Andy ordered one of his men to escort me to the washroom.

“Take this and be quick,” He removed my handcuffs and jabbed a small transparent plastic container into my hands.

“Oh my god,” I thought to myself, I’d never clear the urine test. I reluctantly stumbled into the toilet and made my way to the nearest cubicle.

Go! Use your muscle, carve it out, work it, hustle
I got it, just stay close enough to get it
Don’t slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it
Spend the latso

The second I stepped out of the washroom, I was once again handcuffed by deft hands and the container was rudely snatched from me. As usual, I was pulled across the floor towards the end of a narrow corridor of which stood several metal bars parallel to each other. The guy took off my handcuffs and thrust me into the cell.

“Enjoy,” He gave an evil laugh before slamming the wrought iron gates in my face.

I turned around and that’s how I got myself here. My buttock was starting to ache from sitting on the adamantine floor and I was shaking uncontrollably. I’d never survive in jail, I can’t and I won’t. I’d simply die without drugs and music. That’s when it hit me. I will die eventually. It was just a matter of where and when. I smiled to myself as I realized all my previous worrying was for nothing.

I clumsily tried to find the hidden pocket in my top. When I finally did after what seemed like an eternity, I found the packets of Ice I stored away. I emptied and swallowed the contents of all four bags at breakneck speed, then took a final glance at the apathetic people surrounding me.

I closed my eyes as I removed burden by burden from my mind and body. Slowly but surely, I felt lighter, happier and most important of all, free.

“I’ll have no regrets for falling in love with drugs and music, no regret at all,” I told myself as I drew a final breath and collapsed on the floor.

The End
Acknowledgements

Song: Just Dance – Lady Gaga
Lyrics: MetroLyrics

Written by: Tessa
Blogskins User Name: //& tessa *

If only,

If anything, I thought my life to be a dime in a dozen. Excogitating I was a commonplace adolescent in the midst of battling puberty. Juggling school, family and friends. Dealing with stress, examinations and studies. Boiling others behind their backs with people I libeled as “friends”. Acting ignorant and rebellious when being carped at.

All these seemed to be thoughts I would have until I reached quietus. Until the moment when I would cease to exist, I thought, my life was normal.

I could remember

The prosaic alarm jingle came on. I trundled unto my side, reached out a weary arm and snagged the snooze button. I slouched up, trying to pry open my heavyweight eyelids. After finally summoning sufficient strength, I slid off my bed and droopily trudged towards the toilet, bone-tired.

The frosty tap water felt wonderful on my skin. It took a ton off my eyelids and had me ravenous. The usual Saturday morning breakfast, Jean’s delectable ham and cheese. Just the thought of the toasted delight made me salivate. I skipped down the auburn oak stairs and settled in my usual seat at the dining table.

I chirped a cheery “Good Morning!” only to receive echoes of my very own voice from inside of me. I finally took notice of the intense atmosphere, impatience palpable in everyone’s actions. Did something horrible happen?

In any case, my appetite was reduced to scraps. I needed to get out of this dreadful place, to escape from this barrier of repugnance. I promptly stood up, announced I was going for a stroll in the nearby park and made a beeline for the main door.

You.

The gentle spring breeze blew and tossed my hair around in carefree abandon as a cloud mercifully shielded me from the blistering Sun. As I strolled along the park, passers-by who spotted me began giving me sympathetic smiles.

What was going on? I slumped unto a park bench and closed my eyes for a moment. Everybody was acting peculiar today. April the fifth, my birthday. It’s my birthday today. Did nobody remember? I let out a reverential sigh, and laid down on the welcoming bench, drifting off into a light sleep.

And see

“Joan, Wake up!” I squinted to see who had interrupted my temporal amity. It was my brother, Joe. “Hey, what’s up?” His voice felt like sunshine after a rainy day. I sat up to give him space, and snuggled back down unto his lap. Joe of all people would understand. He was always there for me. His smile seemed to brighten up my days. With him, I knew not the meaning of sibling rivalry. What would I ever do if I lost him? What would I ever do should he someday leave? He always made troubles seem far away. He was like the trusty door of the little room in my heart, the one that provided security, the one that protected me with utmost love and concern.

He began humming a lullaby Jean had always sung to us when we were toddlers. It was our all-time favourite. Joe and I would always sing it together. Although he began going out of tune when his voice began breaking. That was when he stopped singing it altogether and only agreed to hum it to my singing. I grinned and sang softly along, “Sleep now, little one. Sleep when the blue moon rises. Wipe away your little frown, for tomorrow will be filled with surprises…”

Suddenly, his smile morphed into a frown, creasing his handsome features. His legs began to turn charcoal black, as if rotting and blood streamed down his eyes. I stared goggle-eyed with a level of horror and was stunned into speechlessness. As my screams pierced the air, and my tears streamed down my face like the Mississippi, Joe was as if consumed by the flames of hell right before my very eyes.

I felt like the bottom had just fallen out of my world, and I was at a complete loss. “Joe, don’t go.”

That beautiful face

I rose from the bench with my heart racing and cold sweat dripping down my chin unto my over-sized black American Exchange shirt, which was Joe’s. Was that a dream? Thank goodness it was a dream. What would I do if Joe were gone? What would I do if…

The fright I received from that ghastly dream had not vanished. I got up and sprinted in the first direction my body felt obliged to go. Sweat began beading all over and my legs trembled uncontrollably. I was quaking inside.

Of yours

An intrinsic bridge came into sight. Puzzled, I scurried up to see Jean sobbing in John’s arms. Why was my mother crying? John was attempting to console her, to no avail. Jean must have spotted me for she ran over and began hitting me, trying to say something over loud sobs. “Murderer!” was all I could pick out. Murderer? Me?

John grabbed Jean and cast a look toward a flower patch the bridge was overlooking, as if signaling for me to go look. I hurried over and my heart cringed at what I saw.

The flowers were in full bloom and they were breathtaking. They spelt out the words, “Happy Birthday, Joan.” I twirled back and asked, “Who?” At this question, Jean sobbed even harder as John managed to squeeze out, “Joe.”
I was utterly confused. “Where is he?” I was now desperate to know what was going on. I was sinking every moment. Sorrow was like quick sand, constantly pulling me into its fiery grasps. An indescribable desolation swept over me when Jean screamed, “He is dead! Dead!”

Pictures and words began flooding into my head, memories of my favourite lullaby, memories of Joe, memories. And the final memory, one that showed me possibly the biggest fear buried in the depths of my heart.

A fire had started in the old “playroom” Joe and I had set up in the gardening shed behind our house on my tenth birthday, April the fifth. Desperate to save the antediluvian recording tape of our favourite lullaby, I cast away all cares, blocked out the worried cries from my worried family and rushed into the collapsing childhood wonder.

When I got my hands on the precious tape, the fire had devoured everything. The flaming planks of what used to be the roof of the shed threatened to fall onto me. Just at that moment, Joe rushed in and covered me in his muscular body, in the body that I would never embrace for warmth, for security, again.

His last words, I vowed never to forget, “Hey Joan, what’s up? Seems like you got the tape. Great job.” He died for all our precious childhood memories, he died for our favourite lullaby, he died, for me.

I collapsed when the vague words I had overheard at the hospital floated in, “I am terribly sorry Mrs. Trent. I’m fear the worst for Joan. The loss of her brother was too great and has triggered an a chain reaction, leading to amnesia. I’m afraid that she might never recover her memory.”

For four whole years, four years, I had forgotten the lullaby, our lullaby. I’d forgotten Joe. I’d forgotten the sacrifice he made for our memories, our happiness, for me. “Sorry Joe, sorry.”

Summoning all my strength, I looked up, and for a horrifying moment, I thought I saw an alabaster white figure behind my sobbing mother, flashing me the warmest smile I’ve ever seen, humming that ever-so-beautiful tune. “Happy Birthday, Joan.”

Once again

There are many names for your true love.

“Significant other”, “other half”, “soul mate”.

But to me, Dave was a soul mate, someone I loved ever since I was young. We were childhood sweethearts, Dave and I. Dave’s mother and my mother were the best or friends, and we often played together while our mothers met up. We were always up to mischief as our mothers got carried away chatting. Then as we got older, each of us changed, and we went our own ways. Dave’s family had moved to Australia, his father had been offered a job there. We no longer kept in touch.

Three years back, when I was eighteen, we met again. I was in Sydney, Australia, spending my time in university there. The last I heard of Dave and his family, they were still in Perth. I wanted a degree in doctor, and had failed the test in Singapore; thus my studying there. Coincidentally, I met Dave there, who was apparently studying for a doctor’s degree too. We would spent our studying time together. After a few months, we knew we’d fallen in love. He proposed to me soon after, and I had agreed.

“Jen.” I heard Dave calling my name, hoarsely. I was brought back to the present.

I was in the hospital, dying of 4th stage breast cancer. My grandmother had also died of cancer, so it was in my genes. We had both gotten our degrees in doctor, and spending our fifth year in marriage together already.

“Yes, baby?” I answered. I looked at him. He looked as if he was the one going to die, as if he were going through chemotherapy twice a week. He looked empty, lifeless.

“Promise me, find the will to live.” He plead.

“I… I promise.”

I felt sleepy, so my eyelids drooped. Dave hummed the song “Forever”, which he had sung and composed for me on our wedding day. It was the most meaningful tune, something I could recognize easily, I was attuned to it. He hummed it to me every night ever since we got married. I knew death was near now, and I had no regrets. I was content. Dave was my all, and it was selfish of me to hold him for so long, knowing I would die in the end. He should have the chance to fall in love again.

I drifted further into my sleep, the sound of Dave’s humming still clear and distinct. I was holding, in my hand, a letter to Dave. The last letter he’d possibly get from me. And then, as if my death were already planned, I fell into the deep sleep that I would never wake up from.

Dave, I love you, with all my heart. After everything, I know you love me too. But don’t be afraid to fall in love again, give yourself a chance.

Love, Jen.

Do note that we have the right to disqualify any of the submissions. Please do not hold it against us because you got undesired marks.

I like the way you wrote the essay, but I didn't get what happened. Wasn't she sleeping on the park bench? How did she go into the shed? Would she wake up on day and remember everything she forgot? Why would Jean call her murderer at the present for something that happened 4 years ago?

I overall like this sory very much. I have not much to say about this part.

Pretty good English you got there.

The essay seems rushed, there’s no elaboration, no description of how much they love each other, or anything else. Everything happens on Jen’s deathbed. The limit for each essay is 1200 words originally when you submitted, but you only used 491 words, slightly over the borderline. You can explain much more about what happened in the 5 years of their marriage. Emphasis on the ‘Music’ section is also very low. How did she write this essay if she is dead?

The way you arranged the things that happened from their childhood to the marriage is very rushed. I didn’t understand what happened in between that made them love each other so much. Will studying together have any help to their relationship? You could improve on this part. If she were so sick, how did she write a letter? And if he had been with her for the whole time, will she get a chance to write it secretly? It is in her hands, it is obvious enough for anyone to notice, I believe he will see it too. I was in the hospital, dying of 4th stage breast cancer. My grandmother had also died of cancer, so it was in my genes. We had both gotten our degrees in doctor, and spending our fifth year in marriage together already.’ Why do you skip from her grandmother to her husband? You make it sound like her grandmother had a medicine degree and was married to you for five years..

I can’t say much about this section, but I spotted a few grammatical mistakes.