A Memory of Child: A Short Prose

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Summary: A man named Bobby listening to a song that brings him to his memory of childhood, to one of his mother’s un-continued story.

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“Good” is what people called her, an only daughter of a very rich merchant man living in the big white house with four massive pillars in the city near the coast. She has a golden shinning long hair like a dazzle coming from one sunny day of summer. Her vivacious smile is a blowing-relaxing wind to the destitute people and her voice is an addiction for a soft music ​​
ambience freaks. Her father is a busy man. He rarely comes home and if he can do it, he only has a tea time for a while. Good’s life is never be as sweet as sugar in her father’s cup of tea. She cannot make her life out of her. She is always asked to do, to wear, to be a companion, just to keep her father’s reputation.

One morning, Good is looking at her in the mirror.

“You look bored, young girl. Look here, what do you get from being here, constantly, this place is like a prison. You could take a break for a while. Why don’t you set your life free, at least for a short single time? Yes, you could and should.”

“Mom, she is pretty, I believe, and her father is rich and she can get everything she wants. So why she has to speak with herself like that? I mean, she could talk to her dad.” “It is just the way she wants, to make her happy, honey.”

Her thought flies, looks at her reflection on the mirror and says, “You could and should.” She thinks she could escape from her daily routine now, if she lets herself like a presupposed baby bird trying to fly from its eternal cage. Still, she can’t imagine when her father knows she isn’t there for him. She can’t imagine she could live without, unfortunately, her father. But, the more she tries to avoid her own echoes, the more her free soul rebels.

“I think she is a big people, Mom. But why does she try to run from her dad? Why isn’t she happy, she is rich, and I believe all people like her.” “She wants to learn, just like you, honey. She always wants to know everything, like you.”Good thinks of a common place she often comes to, a not-so-far one to think clearly about all things she has been through for this long. A place where her father cannot find her. The coast.

A fine weather defined this afternoon. Not a sunny-rainy, but fine. The wave is friendly for these two fishermen wearing their black gumboots to pull out their baits from paint buckets and…. ploop. It is a day for fishing, they think, until they see from afar that Good comes to their place. She wears a pink long dress just enough to make people stare at her, especially Bad, one of these two fishermen.

“Mom, every parent gives their children with a good name, but why do you tell me this boy named Bad? I surely don’t like him. He should be done some mistakes, that’s why you call him Bad, isn’t it?” “People sometimes give us another name, because of our appearance, our behavior, anything reasonable else, or sometimes they just call us whatever they like to call us, they have no reason.”

Bad is what people called him. People call him Bad because he always drinks an alcohol and disturbs all people around the coast by his unpleasant noise at midnight. Before his father was died because of a heart attack, he also used to call him Bad because he didn’t want to go to school. He lives now with his only little brother in a small house where he now does expect for having a guest like this beautiful girl he has not recognized her name, yet. Bad moves his gumboots walking to approach Good while she sits on the breakwater and dangles her legs in the water, “Bad”, he gives his hand.

“What are you doing here, young lady?”, said Bad.

“To see the wind singing, and my life would be happy.”
“You look rich and, you know, fine. How a girl like you know about the unhappy life?”
“Go away. You don’t know me. I just want to sit here, with my solitude.”
“No, I won’t go. My work is finished and it’s nothing better way and time to wind down. By the way it’s my place, don’t you dare. You probably the one who should go.”
“I wish I can go.”
“Pardon me?”
“*sigh* I am, the one whom people called Good with good appearance, good personalities, is not the first person whom my father is looking for. I mean, I am her only daughter and I just want his attention if he thinks I deserve it. Loneliness sucks. I…. have everything I want, people who love me, dresses to wear, books to read, food to be shared with, I have everything. But…. one thing I realize since the first time I came here is having everything is not enough. *chuckle* Why am I crying in front of a guy like you? Why am I telling you? It’s ridiculous. Shame on me.”
“Meh~ You think I will tell your father, or your friends, or your father’s friends about this? Who am I, and I have my own business also!”
“You are a fisherman here right? and wait, what’s your name? Bad? Why is it your name Bad?”
“Same question goes to you, why are you Good?”
“Because people tell me that….. I am ordered to be good and I am doing good. Is it good to be here, to be far from home, alone, and talk to a guy whom I don’t really know?”

“Well, people are wrong about you then. Listen, don’t you think to be rich is the purpose of being alive? Rich, is the way to be happy. I mean, look at us, we have to work just to be alive, to make our family happy, until I see you here crying and craving for your father’s attention to the singing wind? What do you think of me suppose to feel now? I am Bad, you know, I can do this to you because everything good I do is still bad at all.”
“Really sorry. Sometimes I want to be the other part of myself. Being always good is sometimes a burden for me. I feel like inhuman. I am believed to be always right while I cannot be always right. I am believed to be nothing but doing good. I come here just……… to calm myself down, and nothing else.”

“Bobby, I will tell you what’s going next but now it’s time for you to sleep.” “But mom…….” “I promise, honey. I’ll tell you tomorrow, and it’s going be surprising.” “Ok…..”

Quiet still, silences between the two young people, Good and Bad in the sundown of the coast. They think of their own lives as the wind goes through their bodies until it is so faaar away to touch the sash windows of Bobby’s room. A dreary light surrounded their night to fall asleep, a cover brown blanket they choose to be as a special companion, and a sleepy mother’s arms would never be taken away from Bob’s place and it eventually makes they die with a smile.

. . . . . . . .

This is Bob listening to Owl City’s Silhouette, he thinks those September nights were warm because of his mother, who always told him various stories every single night. He used to be fear of night, that is why his mother was on by his sight. He misses his mother, his home…….Is it over yet? He can feel it again, to be told by her stories. He now still lives on his memories of child, until he said,

“(S)o I watch the summer’s stars to lead his home.”

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References:

– A short story from Nathan Besser: After School

– A song from Owl City: Silhouette

Word Count: (1349)

Link for work dramatization: A Memory of Child

3 thoughts on “A Memory of Child: A Short Prose

  1. 180410130028/D

    I like the way you tell the story, it’s smooth and unique. Uniqe because you use adjectives as characters, that’s new for me. And since it’s about good and bad in someone, I think it can make readers learn to try to take a look on the good and bad side of themselves :)

    Like

  2. Wow, you’re such a good story writer. The narrative framing you put in this story is great, so, there are actually three stories in this story, right? And the most story told is actually only a childhood memory of Bob. The last paragraph really shows Bob’s longing of his childhood. If you, in case, wants to expand the story to give more surprising details like you did in this story such as, where is Bob now, why is Bob separated with his mom, how far are they now, how old is Bob now, etc., I would be on of the most excited person anticipating for it. Very great job, Puspa!

    Like

  3. 180410100079/ D

    Awesome! I have read your short prose writing. I think you choose to write it in an unique way and I enjoyed it a lot. I was actually feeling, hearing, and seeing along with the character. Its very powerful stuff!
    Also, your description and the way you set the scene is good, because I could picture what was happening like I was in the story.
    Keep going girl! :D

    Words count: 70

    Like

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