An Apple And The Pasture

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

There were little red flowers all over your white pleated skirt, and the flowers bloomed, getting bigger and bigger, more and more.

It was beautiful.

The crimson flowers slowly blossomed on the pleated skirt; some flowers were darker red, some were brighter.

Red, contrasted on the white material.

The flowers were those, dripped from your nose.

I reached out, gripping your small hand, not realising the coldness of your hand.

Just like how you did not realise, the glass shards embedded in your flesh.

I implored you not to go, and that the ambulance was on its way.

You said to ignore it, and you left.

Dissolved into a mist, settling on the cracked car window.

I did not object, resting my head on the steering wheel.

Letting tears fall.Dreaming of you.

I already told you not to leave, but yet you did, and you did not even tell your parents.

They even thought that it was me who told you to leave.

Your mother came to my house. Her eyes were red, and she scolded me, "It's all your fault", and threw the letters, those that I had written to you in the past, on to the floor.

Those letters used to be in a shoe box.

It's the shoe box from Prada - those shoes that you wore to the prom.

It was after work, that I brought cash to Paragon to buy the pair of shoes.

Now, you have left, wearing that pair of high heels.

I am worried about you walking such a long distance in those heels.

There will be blisters on your feet, and I will not be there to drive you home.

It was not because of the high parking fees in Orchard, that I did not drive.

It was because my father did not allow me to drive his car anymore.

That is why I am at home now, writing you this letter.

It has already been 8 months, and though everyone else had already started school, but no one has called me up to attend again.

I do not know why; I only know my grandmother kept crying outside my room.

I end up writing to you.

After I finished, I will burn the letter for you, as well as the letters I wrote to you in the past.

I will also burn the shoe box for you, so that when you change into flat shoes, you can keep your Prada heels into the shoe box properly.

My parents refused to let me go out, therefore I cannot work.

Without the income at the moment, I cannot buy you any branded goods yet.

I have already uploaded the photos of the prom on to my blog.

You were really beautiful in your white top with crystal beads, and your white pleated skirt, and that pair of shoes.

Although you did not win the Prom Queen title, you were the most beautiful that night.

Serene is a councillor; that was why the teachers let her win the Prom Queen title.

Can you MSN me when you see the photos?

I know it was because you were angry with me, that's why you left in a hurry.

I shouldn't have quarrelled with you on the car.

Now I understand.

The Prom Queen title was important to you, and I shouldn't have said "It was no big deal to lose".

But I know you have already forgived me, and you missed me, that's why you came back to see me.

It's just that you are only throwing a small tantrum, that's why you didn't want to talk to me.

Because I can feel that you are just beside me.

I saw you in the mirror, looking at me, when I was washing my face in the bathroom.

But you were gone when I turned around.

I know it is because you still did not feel like talking to me.

When I woke up in the morning and found bruises all over my body, I knew it was because you ran over to sleep with me on my bed, because you were afraid of ghosts at night.

Those bruises were evidence of your love for me, but I could not let my parents or teachers see them, because we were still young.

I also know, my wrists bled, because you are asking me to go accompany you.

Drop by drop, the blood spreaded on my white school pants.

Bigger, and bigger.

Look. Doesn't it look like a heart-shape?

I'm serious. I'm not joking.

Look. Look carefully.

It's really a red heart-shape spreading on my pants!

Isn't is beautiful?

I want to be with you forever.

Please don't be angry with me anymore.

You will always be my Prom Queen.

I know, that the only way to see us together now, is when I close my eyes.

Me, in my suit, and you, wearing the Prom Queen sash.

I finally see it.

That we are together.

We are together.

Finally.. I see us together..

6:33 PM