# 86. Sans de La Vie. Chapter 2.

Chapter 2.

It was the election period. A small 15 inch idiot box located amongst tiers of dusty shelves housing hundreds of brewed alcohol from all over the world and some even possibly older than I am, projected the voice of a self-assured, confident man, probably in his early thirties. Though calm and unbias throughout his announcement on the latest updates about the current presidential run, I can almost be certain that this man had his hands down for the Republicans.

A trucker was sitting across the bar; his bulging belly uncovered by his tight grease stained tee, holding chilled beer in one hand, and the other, busy mending to his temples, massaging them. His eyes focused as though he is lost in a dimension no one else know of but him. I took a big gulp from my pint and shivered as the cold beer ran down my throat.

"Don't be like this Samantha,"

"What do you mean? You cheated on me and I have no rights to react like this?"

"I'm sorry Sam, but I love you,"

"If you did, you wouldn't have done what you did!"

The teary auburn model-like woman sitting at the corner of the island stormed off towards the exit, grudgingly fidgeting with the rickety faux-glass wooden pane door, and eventually leaving nothing but the ringing welcoming bells as a resonance to her exit. The air was still accompanied by the faint voice of the charming anchorman in the background as he continued his announcement uninterrupted by what had happened.

I looked towards my own mug of frosty beer and I shifted my gaze towards the handsome haggard-looking bartender who looked nonchalant to whatever that has happened. Though his swiftness and gracefulness in mending the bar and pouring the right concoction of mixtures of the best liquors for his guests had attracted regular customers to his bar, he still was unhappy. He looked as though he has lost something or maybe someone he had once known very well.

Absentmindedly, I pulled my hand towards my belly. My wet hand printed against the red flowery sundress I wore. Underneath the chiffon, I felt the growing bump. I closed my eyes. I am scared. Questions started running through my mind. What am I going to do? Am I able to provide the best for this child? Is it right for me to bring this miracle to such wounded world? Am I good enough for him?

"Don't be thinking too hard now, it's often not very healthy."

The bartender said as he placed a glass of water in front of me.

"This would be more suitable for you than this, lady," he confiscated my beer with a charming grin before I could even protest.

"How did you know?" 

He said nothing but grin as he continued meddling with the colorful mixtures behind his bar. I squinted my eyes trying to see as best as I can against the glaring spotlights, hoping to get a better look at him. But all I can see was his glimmering name tag eagerly proclaiming to anyone it sees, that his name is Jamie.

Jamie. I thought.

I suddenly felt a sharp ache in my head. The bar started to spin. The glass of water that I was holding in my hands, dived to the floor. A loud siren filled my ears canceling off the faint soothing anchorman's voice. I was in total darkness.

Inspirations. 

# 81. Sens de La Vie. Chapter 1.

picture by inmagine

Chapter 1.

Everything became slow motion. Against the agonizing pain that I was feeling at the back of my neck, I turned my head frantically to look for little Jamie and I saw Joe. I could see Joe shouting out for me, but I couldn't hear a single word he said. With the buzz inside of my head ringing so loud and the blood flowing from my head, I can only only squint my eyes to see that his mouth was moving in a constant rhythm. I was trying to my best to focus. I couldn't make up what he was saying. The buzzing became louder and louder. And my world gradually became pitch black.

As I opened my eyes, the scorching sun rays was too much for my pupil to bare, my palms worked its way to act as a shield to my eyes. Images begin to register in my mind as I turned around, absorbing the new environment that somehow felt familiar. A red mud-stained toddler's tricycle sprawled aimlessly across a well maintained, beautifully kept green lawn while a blue toy car, now rather half flattened was only a few meters away from the tricycle. The lawn sprinklers decided to come alive as the front door of the house spat wide opened. A woman, so beautiful I thought, stormed through the hallway. Her eyes dilated, mouth working furiously, hands and arms up in the air wildly. She was the one woman in my life, who have taught me how to ride a bicycle, how to behave like a woman, and how to love unconditionally. She was my role model, my mama.

While she was in the midst of her rants, making her way down the patio, she stopped abruptly only to continue her steps by running frantically towards my direction. Her eyebrows crinkled her forehead as she squatted down right next to me. With tears forming around the corners of her eyes, she still looked as beautiful as ever. Her touch so gentle and soft, she was holding my bruised knees with such care, she slowly blew away the grass and dirt around my wounds. I tried to call her, but all I can hear was her comforting voice saying, "Shhh, don't cry baby, everything is going to be alright," I looked down at my palm, it was very much smaller that I last remembered and a scorching pain hit me as I looked at my equally tiny knee which was bleeding severely. Confused, I looked around and I caught a reflection of myself. I was the three-year old me wearing a pony tail on my head with a huge ribbon to match with. My mama worked like a superhero, so fast that I did not even realise the pain anymore. I have never figured out what was her secret; how she can make everything so scary be as beautiful as marshmallows and rainbows in the skies, or how can she always keep me warm and safe, away from the big bad old monsters that creeps around at the end of the streets waiting to get us. Nope, I have never figured out what her secret was, never my entire life.

And as the last step to patching me up, she made sure that she used my favorite Pooh bear plaster. I watched her as she moved gracefully packing the first aid kit and gathering the blood stained cotton. She stopped and smiled at me and rewarded me with a sloppy watery kiss. I was disgusted as she pulled away. My hands irritatedly wiped away her remaining saliva on my cheek. She looked at me, giggling hysterically. I know she loves doing that just to annoy me. I used to continue letting her do this up till when I was in my middle school just to see that gorgeous smile of hers resting upon her beautiful face.

"Jessica! Where is my baby?" A tall, tanned, handsome, muscular young man crept up behind her and gave her the tightest embrace that I have ever seen my whole life. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead as she turned to face her love as a contented smile gently appeared on her face. Both of them looked at each other longingly for a second or two as though nothing else had mattered in the world. A thin layer of glass made of tears formed in my eyes as I witnessed such picture perfect view. I have forgotten about how much the happiness of these first two person that I know in the world had mattered to me and a strong pang hit me. I realised how much I have missed these two beautiful souls. Both of them, were my first best friends, my play mates and my guardians. As they stood together, looking at me smiling, the buzz in my head gradually became louder and I once again, am in total darkness.

Inspirations.

by

melaniehwa.