Eminem is rapping through the earphone. Her head is hurt from the lack of sleep, but she refused to turn the volume down, let alone turn off the music. Well, who’s to blame? She just needs her space to feel angry to the collapsing world around her. Coz by the time she steps outside this room, she should stand tall, bear her mom’s whole world’s burden.
Time is ticking. She knows she needs to get prepared and go to the hospital again to see her dad’s lying helplessly. Yeah, TBC is gnawing both of his lungs badly. Remember when she was small, she thinks her dad’s cool because he’s smoking? Pff.. She snorts. Well, now she knows better than that. No, she doesn’t hate smokers. It’s the poison, and the effect it has on her dad, that she hates.
What to do now? Should she stiff her upper lip up and take the step now? Or should she let the sadness consume her longer?
Her eyes run mindlessly through her mention tab. Last night she had a little chat about this new person she found recently. A writer. Just like her. She clicked on his wordpress to find a simple white & grey theme, with a little red. Smile’s haunting her lips now, oh, when’s the last time she opens her own wordpress?
Wondering where she should start, she types “Café Forever” in the search box, and clicks on the result. What is it? A short story? A real life story? She drowns herself in the story, ignoring every insults Eminem’s spitting through her earphone.
“I just don’t get it. I just don’t. I don’t understand why people smoke. It’s like burning good money and killing yourself in the process. Stop smoking, man. It’s bad for you.”
Her brow furrows. C’mon, of all the writings she could have read, why should she read something that reminds her of her dad’s illness? As much as she wants to stop reading, she still wants to run from the real world. Her eyes run through mindlessly, keep reading, keep drowning deeper in the words. Act of rebellion? Declaration of independence? Ha. It sounds cool, but she vowed to not be fooled. She knows what the silly rebellion and the smuggy declaration of independence really meant: Lungs Infection. Freedom my ass. Never would she consider those needles in her dad’s body as freedom. Her little fingers are now running through her forehead. It’s just a story, silly little girl, she tells herself. Keep reading, she commands herself.
Soon the story shifts to some kind of a love story. A stream of relief fulfills her bitter mind.
“Nothing lasts forever. Not even death. Forever is a lie. All we have is what’s between hello and goodbye.”
Her lips are now quirking up involuntary. It’s a sweet surprise to know that some random guy she accidentally found, has the same thought as hers. She couldn’t agree more, forever IS a lie.
Quickly she opens her own wordpress to dig her old post. The ones she made when she still thinks it’s a good idea to tyPe LikE tHiS. As naive as it sounds. When she found it, dated 11 July 2007, she smiles even more. Oh, how she loves her younger self.
sometimes,we forget the oLder forever, then make another Forever.. Maybe Forevers are made as easy as it’s forGotten.. maybe this forever wiLL end tomorrow, no one knows.
Oh dear. Her fingers are itching now that she’s seeing her own wordpress. Should she write something now? Well, let’s face it. She’s a writer as much as she’s a reader. Peeking at the clock, it’s almost 2. She couldn’t run any longer, soon she should go to the hospital, whether she likes it or not. Taking another sip of her chilled green tea, she clicks “Add New Post” from her dashboard.
Well, now, how should she say thanks to the writer for the short, bitter-sweet, intriguing story? Is it a good idea to reply a story with another story? Let’s hope so.