— Nayeon Kwon (Nancy) Y10 Mulchat —
19th May. 2016.
‘Whatever you do, just don’t do what I did. Okay?’
Those were the last words that I ever heard from my mother. Her face had been so pale and white like the princess in Snow White. I loved her face as she talked to me in that slight anxiety that I did not understand.
Her bright colourful eyes were the ones that always mesmerised me as they glistened whenever she read me books. Stories of wonder that illuminated my mind from the darkness that hid our family. Those stories, full of glorious adventures and love were the ones that linked me to my mother, who seemed to be part of that world to me.
Her stories, from ‘Cinderella’ to ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz’ had been the line that connected me to the world – a place where I was not allowed to go. My mother always told me that it was a dangerous place. A place where a child so small like me will be swallowed in a single nasty bite, just like the little girl in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ or the two piggies in ‘The Three Little Pigs’. They were gone down the throat of the wolf. Yet I knew that they survived after that harsh journey. That was the reason why I asked her to give me a chance to prove myself.
In response, she sighed a huge sigh. Her facial expression then resembled the one of the big bad wolf right before he blew the house of the two little piggies. Her mouth seemed to swell up, with the massive amount of air she was intaking for the big blow that she was about to place on me.
“My little Loraine, you know that you can’t go out there. You know that. Please stop asking me the same question. Can’t you see that your mother is exhausted?”
The frown on her face then was so harsh, so rash that I felt exposed to the evil queen of the story of ‘Cinderella’. The fear I withheld was quite strong, taking me back to the story of ‘Rapunzel’. I suddenly had this fear, thinking that my once beautiful mother seemed like the witch who held Rapunzel up the tower, without a door, but with a single window to let her see outside whilst hiding her from the world.
Why did that fact never occur to me? My mother being like Gothel, the horrible bad witch in Rapunzel, locking me in this room during my entire life. What stopped her from letting me out? I wonder. I thought of a hypothesis, a plan, that may let me out of this room and into the world where my beautiful mother, and all the other fairy tale creatures belong to.
As my glorious mother came in, I ran through the gap between her legs, and ran out to the world that she was hiding behind me.
I breathed in deeply, the air of the outer world. But actually, it didn’t feel that good. It felt stuffy, and somewhat dangerous. The air seemed to block my throat, as I tried to throw it out by violent coughs. It did not work. My coughs did not help to reduce the pain that rampaged through my chest.
My mother seemed to be in agony as she gasped and held on to me. She burst into tears, muttering unintelligible words, which sounded like prayers.
“No, god, please don’t take her away. Not her. Not again…”
Her eyes were dark with despair as she wailed in dismay. Then the world fell to darkness.
I awoke the next morning with a splitting headache. The world swirled around me, as I stared into the late morning sunshine.