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Glimpses Short stories through time Freya Isabelle Sheil Patrick

Birth I’m in a dark space, it is filled with tones of water, I can’t help swimming around and having fun. I can feel the borders of my sack, it is hard but also kind of delicate but I still can’t help myself from having a big kick around, I can feel me it expand when I do! But... now what’s happening? My sack is losing all of its water... now it’s all dried up! Instead of floating and curling up under the warm surface of the water it feels like I’ve just been dropped! My home is changing. There is a tiny light, I have to turn my head to escape the strain it’s putting on my eyes. I don’t understand what is happening. The light is getting brighter, I am being taken away from my nest. There is a man’s deep voice and the sound of a woman screaming. I don’t want to leave my world to a place that seems so terrifying. There is a pull on me, a force I cannot deny! It hurts... to be squeezed. Suddenly it feels like there is a golf ball in my throat, no air is getting in, maybe if I stay completely still this will all be over faster. My eyes!! It hurts even more! The thin eyelids that cover my eyes are not thick enough to make any of this okay. I can no longer close my eyes and all the bad things go away. The light is now unbearable. AHHH I’m slipping! A man’s hands are holding me now. If I open my eyes I wonder if I will be able to see. May as well give it a go? Slowly I start to peel back the lids I had closed so tightly just a short time ago. The light is excruciating! The torment of this pain! There is a woman asking for me, I turn to face her... It’s her! The home I had been living in my whole existence! But why aren’t they giving her to me? I want to go to her... not be here with this stranger. They are pulling me over into the corner of the overly bright white room... why is it so clean!? I feel them layering me in soft material that feels amazing on my skin, so soft! My eye lids are heavy, they are getting ready to drop, but I wont let them, I refuse. Not until I see that woman, I don’t know her, but she makes my heart feel warm. Like a flutter inside that I cannot control. Just as little butterflies breaking away from their silky cocoon, taking their first flaps to life. I’m drawn to her. I feel her hands now, holding me in a way that I know no one else could. This is her. Everything is okay now. Caving into my eyes, I’m letting they drop. I’m safe.

Chasing the Orange! I don’t know weather you could consider this to be crawling... I suppose it looks more like an army crawl! Mum, grandma and grandad are all watching television. They just finished making me eat this horrible goop a few minutes ago! But I’m still hungry, maybe if I cry they will understand? No, they are watching, I don’t want to disturb them... WOW there is a round orange thing on the carpet, like one of those big balls that bounce really really high. I’ve seen Grandad eat them before... It’s army crawling time! With all the eyes on the TV I can eat that gorgeous juicy thing! The carpet is hurting my tummy, a burning pain as I’m slithering on the rough surface, all I’m wearing is this horrible tight stretchy thing on my bum, it hurts when they put it on so tight. But how can I not get to this bright round orange thingy. I still don’t know what it is... All I know is that Grandad loves them. So I must too! This bright ball like piece of food is in reach, just one more stretch. It is almost soft but still firm enough that I still cant handle it properly. Crawling back to that spot on the carpet where I first saw it, I’m trying to find the right places to put my fingers like I see Grandad do every other night. Too hard for my little fingers to break through. The juice stings my eyes as I pierce through tough skin that covers my food. It is taking so long that there is such a high chance of being caught by my mum, the only safe place seems to be behind the curtains. Again the carpet rubs against my soft skin, feeling like sandpaper. Tearing through the skin, feeling the juice squish in my mouth with the slippery insides of this delicious sweet piece of fruit! Mum is calling my name but all I can do focus on doing right now is eating my newly discovered fruit. “Where is my orange?” Called Grandad So now I finally know what it is! They are still calling for me, the time is whizzing by as I dig in. A brush of cool air just swooshed against my back as the thin materiel of the curtain strokes me. Gazing up I can see my mum laughing, picking me up in with worry but amusement as she begins wiping off the pulpy juice that I’ve smeared across my face!

KINDERGARTEN Driving to kindergarten so early in the morning never is fun... Today is no different. The green leaves zoom past the window that's trapping me inside. Mum’s frustration is written all over her face, as the lines on her forehead slam down on each other as her fragile hands clutch the steering wheel with such a grip that is unsettling to my little stomach. The ugly brown car we own is slowing down as we pull into the gates that I dread so much, this place reminds me of prison... the small boxy room, the utter dullness that presents itself at first glance. I hate it here, but now mum needs to go, as she picks me up out of the car suddenly I’m the one that feels like the steering wheel, yet still not wanting her grip to loosen. Instantly as she has plopped me on the ground, I can feel the tears swell up beneath my eyelids about to stream down my cheeks to roll down to the floor where they mean nothing anymore. Each step towards this prison comes at forced movement. “THUD” goes my feet with every unwilling time they touch the rocky surface of the driveway below me. Fighting the urge to turn back and run to that gross brown thing we call a car to just sit there until mum decides we can take the day off from her work to just spend with me. But I know my mum... Work is too important. So I’m going to just have to suck it up. We reach the gate that looks 100x taller than me with brown flakes peeling off from where the black paint once covered. It open to my mums touch with a squeak that pierces my ears. Then I see her... that plump woman that rips me from my mum’s arms every morning. I know mumma isn’t going to stay for very long since she left the car running. By now the tears are streaming down my face but I don't want mum to see, I’m hiding them the best I can. She places out her hands and is kneeling down to the floor to be closer with me, her arms wrap around my body and I feel safe. She has to go though. It’s not fair! “I love you frey” she says to me in a voice so sympathetic to my tears as I just stand here with sadness. She is walking back to the car, fighting the urge to run after her as she leaves, but this stupid women is turning me around and bringing me inside. I look over my shoulder to see her for the last time in hours, seeing the car vanish into the nothingness that is taking her away.

The move to China The airport is buzzing, the faces zooming past me fast into a blur. The people rushing to catch their planes when all I want to do is miss mine! “This is the flight that will change my life” I thought to myself, as we all sat in silence waiting until the latest possible time to go through those gates that will separate me and my family until I come back in a years time to visit my home. The crying faces of my family fill the airport gate around me. My young aunties, my grandparents, everyone that have created a home for me since growing up with one that is only half a family. They have been all I have ever needed, father or none the love they provide me with is all I could possibly intake! To be so loved by half the expected amount and feel overwhelmed by it is an amazing thing. But now I have to leave them and I really don’t know how I am going to get along without them by my side. They wipe the tears when I cry and are the reason for my smiles, the ones who tuck me in at night and my loved ones I call to at night when my dreams are not as happy. For now the memories will have to stay on replay in my mind until I get to be with them again. Mumma grabs my hand and I know that is her way of telling me “It will be okay”. My family is taking turns hugging me and saying their last words to my face for a long time, with each embrace it only gets harder to say goodbye. I save my Grandad for last. My father figure that has taught me how to love in ways that no dad would be able to show. He starts to pick me up and the tears begin to gush out. He only hugs me tighter. My feet plop on the floor, now I’m back on my own, supporting myself. My hand is getting pulled away as the people get smaller. Looking back through the gates to wave my final goodbye to the wonderful human begins that have shaped my life so perfectly.

The BREAKUP This moment, right now, I have never felt my heart break in two the way it is tearing apart right now. Like every strand keeping it together is breaking one by one slowly just to make it even worse. A crushing pressure on my body preparing itself to just fall and crumble to the floor with the silence that fills the deathly air around us. Just the two of us, no noise, not even the sound of crickets masking the loneliness I feel inside. Everything that I thought was true about this amazing idiot sitting on these steps with me has been tossed out the window, there is no more sense of happiness filling the short distance that feel like miles between me and him. The tears I’ve been holding in for weeks can not be held in any longer, the swelling underneath my red eyes are building up in torment while I’m waiting for those words I can’t bear myself to let hear, the words that will tremble from our mouths out into the open making all the feelings seem too real. I don’t want what we have to end but at the same time if I continue to stay in this dead ended route then where will that leave me? To waste my time on someone like him... You know what hurts the most, knowing that he probably will walk away any moment while I’ll just stay here sitting alone mourning the days when our puzzle pieces fit together perfectly in-sync, now they are broken and pieces are missing. Leaving me incomplete.



These are short stories of memories I have growing up.

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