#kamilahswong

[kamilahswong]

Forever

Date written: March 13, 2020

Short story written for a Creative Writing course.

Warning: character death, suicide

Word Count: 1,004

It was hot when I first met her. Blisteringly so. I’ll forever remember the smell of burning concrete and the unforgiving glare of light that hurt my eyes. Even the rushing river had gone still. She was like a breath of fresh air amongst the stifling heat. I hadn’t even noticed her behind me until she hurled herself at me, pulling me into the river with her. The cool water was searing on my skin, and a moment later I felt alive again. When my head burst back up to the surface for a well-deserved breath, her face was the first thing I saw, grinning down at me with such satisfaction, it made my confused questions die on my tongue.

“You looked hot.” She said. “Thought a dip was what you needed.” To her, it was all the reason in the world.

That was how we met, her pushing me into the river on a blistering summers day.

I don’t quite remember how we got so close. She was just constantly there, like a shadow…or perhaps I was the shadow. Her smile seemed permanent, and it was contagious. Her two front teeth were slightly crooked, so I gave her the nickname “Rabbit,” and she would flash her teeth at me on purpose every time I called her that. She never seemed bothered by her crooked teeth, in fact it might’ve encouraged her to smile even more.

I hated her at first. Perhaps it wasn’t hate, just distaste. She got too close too fast and I didn’t have time to adjust. I wouldn’t consider myself anti-social, but it does take me a while to warm up to people. She was the total opposite, calling out to me whenever she saw me around, even coming to my classroom all the way down the hall just to tell me about her new keychain. I avoided her a lot back then; she creeped me out a bit. No one had ever been so enthusiastic to be my friend. My classmates had given her weird looks too, asking me who she was and why she came over so much. I don’t even know how she knew my name.

But oh, did she grow on me. I have no memory of how it happened; just how annoyed I was at the beginning and suddenly realizing how close we had gotten. Like waking up and feeling like I had dreamed about something, but not being able to recall anything, just the lingering sensation. Like two peas in a pod, my teacher said. Like soulmates, our parents said.

We sat by the river one day. It was fall, and the water was covered in a blanket of oranges and reds. She could make up stories about each leaf, about how they got into the river and where they were going. As we watched them float down and out of sight, she would wave and yell, “Bye-bye!” before moving onto the next leaf. She handed me a pendent, dug out from her jean pockets and stuffed it into my hand. I stared at the half-heart, “Best” was written on it, and then one line down it had “For.” She had the other half, “Friends” written on it, then “ever.” Best friends forever, it read when put together. I thought it was pretty lame. I almost refused to wear it, but I couldn’t refuse her pleas and before I knew it, the cheap plastic necklace was around my neck, and had been ever since.

“Now we’ll be best friends forever!” She said with so much joy it made me believe it. Really believe forever existed. Forever seemed so much closer as a child sitting next to her best friend.

It feels like a long time since I’ve come here. Three years, to be exact. It’s hard to believe I could be graduating high school next year. The river looks the same as always, the grass soft against my bare feet. The wind is gentle through my hair, unlike that day. I’ve left so many precious memories here, but I tremble as I stand by the sandy edge. “I’m sorry,” I say, watching my reflection and imagining her face instead. “I’m sorry I left for so long.”

“It’s fine.” She would’ve said. “I knew you’d come back. We promised to be together forever, right?”

“Yeah.” I answer with tears in my eyes, the words so heavy on my tongue, falling into the air like bricks. “Yeah.”

I can still imagine the look on her face when I told her my necklace fell into the river. It was raining so heavily, and I couldn’t tell how much of it was tears.

The water is cool as I wade in, unafraid. It welcomes me in its embrace like old friends. The river remembers me. It’s been waiting for me.

I remember how I screamed and cried and begged for her not to go.

Every second of those three years were excruciating. Every time someone asked, I would answer, “Yes, I’m alright now. I’m fine. I’m doing better.” I would smile and laugh and nod in conversation. Each time I said it, my mouth tasted of lies. I was exhausted. Each breath I took left an aftertaste of guilt, each step felt like betrayal. It wasn’t fair.

She had the most determined look on her face and she smiled. She smiled. She said she’ll be okay, she said she’ll get the necklace back for sure.

The water is up to my chest now, and I go in deeper still. I am not afraid…just tired. So tired. So tired of being alone. So tired of remembering.

She never came back up.

We promised forever. But forever is bitter. Every syllable is a lie. I can barely touch the sand and rocks underneath my feet, the current quick and unrelenting. Just like that day. Merciless. Cruel.

I close my eyes, and I stop fighting.

Somehow, I wonder if this is what forever feels like.

[fiirekat]

a DTIYS entry for Kamilahswong / Kamthings on insta / twitter!!

[kamilahswong]

Watching

Date written: February 9, 2020

Short story written for a Creative Writing course.

Warning: abuse

Word Count: 1,246

Jax sees everything. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t. He could simply turn his head away, pretend nothing ever happened, that nothing is wrong. But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to do that, because if he didn’t see, no one would. He can’t bring himself to do that to her.

Jax saw how it happened. He’s always there, watching. Watching the world reflected back. He watches in pity—no, he feels no pity. Just hatred. A burning hatred that sears everything black in its wake. He despises that man. That man who claims to love her, his love like acid.

“Please don’t leave,” Jax hears the pathetic, broken voice that tries to stop her from leaving. Sees the way he throws himself on his knees, holding her ankle, false tears streaming down his ugly face. “I’m sorry! I-I’ll change. I swear, please, please just don’t leave.”

“You said that already!” She screams, then her voice drops. “I trusted you.” She says, equally broken, voice soft against his vicious sobs like she no longer has the energy to speak. “Do you know how many times you said that? Twenty seven. Twenty seven times you’ve hit me, and twenty seven times you promised you wouldn’t do it again.” There are tears in her eyes too, tears of betrayal and sorrow but no anger. Just disappointment. So much disappointment it makes the man pause and shrink back.

“I know…I-I know.” The man tries, taking all the blame as he very well should. This is all his fault. “I know what I said. I-I’m trying, I swear. It won’t happen again. This time for sure.”

Trying. Jax knows that, because he is the one fighting. Always fighting. And the man would fight back, grasping him by the throat and spitting into his face, “You can’t stop me.” He would be drunk on his power, towering over him with a grin. Glass would shatter, and he wouldn’t be able to see anymore.

“Do you remember when you came home yelling at me after your meeting with your boss? When you slammed me against the wall and cursed at me? Do you remember the things you called me? Do you remember how I couldn’t go out for a week because my face was so dark and swollen?”

Jax knows he remembers.

“I-I was angry…I wasn’t thinking right…I had no control over myself…I never wanted to hurt you. I just couldn’t—”

“Did anything change since then?” She cuts him off, eyes hazed and looking so far away. Her heart had gone so far away. Or perhaps its his that she can no longer reach. She touches the fresh bruise on her cheek. “Why did you hit me today? We were okay just minutes before it happened. What made you ‘angry’ this time? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

“I…I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that already.” She turns. There’s nothing more to say. “I’m leaving.”

Jax crosses his arms and watches, filled with satisfaction. Serves you right, bastard. Jax knew she would come to this decision. He knew from the very start when he saw the bruises. First they were subtle, a little scratch on the arm, a small bruise on her leg. She could always laugh it off and blame herself for being clumsy. It worked, for a while. But he sees it all. Sees the way they grew steadily worse, until she couldn’t even leave her house because her eye was too swollen. When her lips were split and blood oozed to her chin. When she cried and cried in the darkness, asking why this was happening to her, if it was her fault he became a monster.

Jax sees the apologies that always come. The bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry he would get soon after. Sees the man kneel before her broken, sobbing body, and he would beg for forgiveness and she would always give it to him even if he doesn’t deserve it. Because what else can she do when she loves him so dearly? What can she do if he promises to change so sincerely? What if he really does change and go back to the way they were once upon a time, happy and loving?

It became a new normal. But one day he knows she would snap, tell him she had had enough, and she would leave. It’s gratifying to see it finally happen, to see his mistakes catch up to him.

Jax always wished she would leave. She deserves so much better. But every time he was ready to tell her that, the man would throw him onto the ground and he would be powerless again.

“I love you. I really do.” The man had run out of things to say.

For a terrible moment, Jax thought she would say it back. He sees her take a deep, shaky breath then slowly say, “I can’t handle your love anymore.”

The man flinches at the words like she slapped him. He loosens his hold on her leg just for a moment, but enough for her to slip away. His eyes widen when he sees her drag a packed suitcase from the storage room, where she had hid it in case he found out. Jax could tell how meticulously she had planned this.

The man rushes to stop her, “Wait, wait!” He grabs the handle of her suitcase, yanking her back. “No! Please! Just one more chance.” Her sunglasses, worn to hide the her nasty purple bruise, glints in the light and Jax sees the look in the man’s eyes reflected, wild and desperate.

Jax wishes he had the power to stop the man. He sees her wrestle the suitcase free, the man’s hands already trembling too hard from his panic. He sinks to his knees again as she walks out the door without another word. She just leaves, with her dark sunglasses and her luggage in one hand. She didn’t say goodbye. Jax knows the man doesn’t deserve a proper farewell. He didn’t deserve a single second with her. Didn’t deserve all the smiles and hugs and kisses, filled with forgiveness and love. He stomped over all of them without a second thought. Regret feels like the strangle of poisonous thorns and revenge feels as sweet as honey. Jax watches with so much satisfaction, seeing karma hit him hard. The man’s heartbreak would make up for all the hurt he inflicted on her, but that is still too dull in comparison to all those torturous years he put her through.

Jax also sees the rampage the man went through afterwards. The violent swings of fists, the livid cursing. The house is filled with torn curtains, overthrown chairs and tables. Broken vases and clothes are thrown around. The carpet is covered in splintered wood and shattered porcelain, but he doesn’t care. His hands and feet are bleeding but he doesn’t care. He screams and wails into the empty halls like the beast he really is but tries so hard to hide.

Jax finds himself sneering, the words almost slipping past his lips, ‘Serves you right.’ There is no pity in him, just hatred. There’s no turning back. Not anymore.

Now, in the ruined house, there is nothing but silence. Not even the wind whistles. The whole world has stilled.

Jax watches. With hatred at the man who stares back.

The last thing he breaks is the mirror.

©kamilahswong

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Do not re-post/re-upload/translate.

[kamilahswong]

Letting Go

Date written: January 24, 2020

Short story written for a Creative Writing course.

Word Count: 1,466

My hands are clammy and I don’t know why. There’s nothing to be nervous about. I smooth them over the front of my jeans, taking a deep breath as I keep my eyes peeled. A cup of hot chocolate sits in front of me, steam rising and curling in an entrancing dance. The air is warm in the café, a relief from the chilly wind outside. Chatter fills my ears, snippets of conversation that I may understand if I strain to hear, but I concentrate on nothing in particular. I let the noise caress me, let my mind wander to ease myself.

The chime of the bell warns me of a newcomer, and a stranger greets me with a smile. I blink, and I realize it’s not a stranger at all. I find my childhood in his features, the curl of his lips, the merry twinkle in his eyes. How can someone look so familiar and yet so different? He had obviously matured, his cheekbones more prominent, small wrinkles in the corner of his eyes. I return his smile, internally wincing when I feel myself act a little too stiff. Just relax, I tell myself, it’s fine. He pulls me into a one-armed hug, warm and comforting as I breathe him in. He smells of cinnamon and fireplaces, and suddenly I feel tears prick my eyes. My body relaxes into his on its own, fitting perfectly together like finding that one last puzzle piece you lost ages ago and seeing it slot into place.

I gesture for him to sit down opposite of me, my eyes darting everywhere, not daring to take a second glance at him. He scans the menu, ordering a cup of coffee for himself as I take my mug and sip my chocolate. Even his taste had matured, and my stomach sinks a little. My hot chocolate seems childish in comparison…what a silly thought to have.

“So,” he starts, his grin bright. “How are you? I heard you graduated?”

“Yeah, last year.” I answer, following the movements of the waitress as she brings his coffee. He thanks her, then blows the steam, taking a generous sip.

“That’s great!” He exclaims, sounding so proud, setting the cup back down. It clangs softly against the saucer. “Painting, right?”

“Yeah.” I ease into the conversation better now, my smile coming less forced. He gives off a comforting aura, a kind of warmth that makes people relax. “I’m thinking of organizing an exhibition sometime next month.”

“That’s amazing!” His eyes sparkle like fireflies. “Wow, it feels like yesterday when we were still just hanging out in the backyard, climbing trees.”

The memory makes my chest tighten, squeezing my heart until I can’t breathe. I let out a chuckle to lighten up. “Right. I remember you almost broke your arm.”

“It was your fault. You made me grab the weakest branch.” He makes a face at me.

“It’s what best friends are for.”

“Breaking each other’s arms?”

“Definitely.”

We both burst into a childish fit of giggles, and it feels good. It feels surreal to be sitting here with him, talking about our childhoods after so many years. Those days feel so long ago, but now it feels just like yesterday. Like nothing’s changed at all. Like we haven’t grown apart and time hadn’t escaped us.

Another chime and a woman walks in. She waves with her free hand as she walks over, a familiar gleaming golden band around her fourth finger, a sight that makes my stomach churn. I recognize her immediately; I’ve seen her perhaps once or twice before, in photos. She looks even prettier in person; I am dull beside her. Her dark hair falls over one shoulder, a warm smile on her face. She bounces a baby on her hip.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She greets him with a kiss on the cheek. He gets up to kiss her back, and I glance away, tasting bile.

He holds the baby in her place as she turns to me. I am nervous when I stand to greet her, and she offers me a hug like I’ve known her forever. “I’ve heard so much about you! He always brings you up.”

I stiffen in her embrace and let out a small laugh to hide it. I pray it doesn’t sound too forced. I glance at him as he grins back boyishly at me, almost shyly. It’s an expression that brings so much hope and despair at the same time. I curse him for it, for still being so kind and gentle. It would be easier if he had changed completely from that boy in my memories, but I find myself rejecting, detesting the idea. Even still, somehow his expression comforts me a little, knowing he hasn’t forgotten me. That our memories still live inside both of us. I am a walking contradiction. I hate myself.  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t attend your wedding.”

“Oh, no worries!” She exclaims, swatting it away easily. “I understand you were busy with school.” That’s what I told them. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. I did everything I could to avoid going. I don’t think I would be able to congratulate them if I saw it with my own eyes. I might’ve done something stupid, crazy even, and I didn’t trust myself. I suppose I was being smart—or maybe I was just a coward. I have always been a coward. I had missed all my chances all those years ago, and it’s too late to regret now. She did not hesitate like me. In that regard alone, I have lost. I second-guess myself too much, and I know I am no good for him. He deserves someone much better than me. I have no right to complain. Even now, I am nothing but a coward. I am being punished for weakness.

The baby coos in his arms and I am unable to stop the smile from blooming on my face. I don’t have it in me to hate his child. The baby resembles them both, with his mother’s eyes and his father’s nose. I boop his little nose, giggling along as the baby squeals. “He’s so cute! How old is he?”

“He’s turning one next month.” She answers, tickling the baby’s stomach and beaming with so much love when he laughs, drool dribbling down his chin.

“…Wow.” I breathe out, momentarily stunned by the revelation. Had time really passed that quickly? It flies away from between my fingers like baby birds, and the nest is empty before I know it.

“Fast, huh?” He voices out my thoughts, always able to read my thoughts. “I can’t really believe it myself.”

“Yeah.” I murmur, still unable to shake myself from my daze. I see our childhood in his baby, and yet his very existence is irreversible proof that we can no longer go back. I raise a finger towards the baby, heart melting when he takes my finger in his tiny hands.

“Oh!” His wife exclaims, checking her phone. “Is it already that late? We need to go, sweetheart.” She flashes me an apologetic smile, pulling me in for one last quick hug before she takes her baby back from her husband’s arms, allowing him to say his goodbyes to me.

“Sorry I could only stay for a bit today. We’ll properly catch up next time. Be sure to invite me to your exhibition!”

“No worries.” I answer, nodding at both of them. “I know how busy you are with work.”

He wraps me in his arms, swaying me back and forth gently. He squeezes me tightly and I squeeze back, tears once again burning my eyes. It’s warm and safe and familiar. It’s filled with unfulfilled dreams and wishes. It’s bittersweet like chocolate, both addicting and painful, filled with regrets. I don’t want to let go, so I cling onto him for much too long to be completely innocent. She’s right there, I remind myself, but I find that I don’t really care. I want to be selfish, just this once. I close my eyes, breathing him in. I take a moment to make a silent promise to myself. I whisper, voice cracking the slightest bit, “I missed you.”

“Me too.” He breathes into my ear, a content sigh leaving his lips. “I’m really glad we met up today.”

I exhale deeply, swallowing a sob, finally loosening my grip on him and he does the same. My time with him is almost over. I breathe in the warm air, feeling a part of me die and a part of me reborn. I feel a little different now, a little lighter, a little older. I promise myself.

I smile at him, and let go.

©kamilahswong

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Do not re-post/re-upload/translate.

[kimjongdaely]

3, 5, 7, 12, 15, & 30

Ari, do you know how much I love you?

3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

I usually go from start to finish, unless I have a particularly strong inspiration for a certain scene, then I’ll write that and then figure out how to fit it in.

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

Late at night when everyone’s asleep and it’s super quiet 🌙

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

All of it, tbh. Mostly just trying to make the plot somewhat comprehensible

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

I’ve dabbled in horror during Halloween and such, but I really want to write a serious horror fic (something like psychological horror) 

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

Oooh this is hard...I kinda want to see High Tides as a movie 🧜‍♀️

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

I have several ideas haha (so maybe someone can send this number again?) but I’ll talk a little about the book I’m writing.

Ignite is about self-acceptance and growth. The protagonist, Kay Sanders, is a junior college student, living with her dad. One night, she gets attacked in her home by a strange creature and is saved by someone with magic, who claims she is half Faery. She is taken away to their Land to train, finding out about a long battle between the Faeries, and she is the key to break this feud.

(you can follow this book’s development @kamilahswong)

[Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing]

[kamilahswong]

Novel Status

Ignite

Genre: Ya Fantasy Romance

Status: First Draft Complete 🎉│Second draft in-progress...

Total Current Word Count: ~72,500

Word Count Goal: 60,000+ —> achieved!

Chapters

Prologue: May the Wind Blow Strong…

Complete

Word Count: 382

Chapter 1: (An Unexpected Twist) Forced Goodbye

Complete - Rewritten

Word Count: 4,170 —> 4,391

Chapter 2: The Land of the Fay

Complete - Rewritten

Word Count: 2,059 —> 2,305

Chapter 3: Encharmus

Complete - Rewritten

Word Count: 3,484 —> 3,615

Chapter 4: The Phoenix

Complete - Rewriting...

Word Count: 3,859

Chapter 5: Whispers of War

Complete

Word Count: 2,669

Chapter 6: Self-Defense 101

Complete

Word Count: 2,220

Chapter 7: Escape

Complete

Word Count: 2,664

Chapter 8: Fire

Complete

Word Count: 3,473

Chapter 9: Mother

Complete

Word Count: 2,500

Chapter 10: Him

Complete

Word Count: 2,952

Chapter 11: To Fight

Complete

Word Count: 3,598

Chapter 12: Training

Complete

Word Count: 3,578

Chapter 13: The Meadow

Complete

Word Count: 2,584

Chapter 14: Marked

Complete

Word Count: 3,277

Chapter 15: Ashes

Complete

Word Count: 2,465

Chapter 16: Breaking

Complete

Word Count: 2,462

Chapter 17: Choice

Complete

Word Count: 1,5880

Chapter 18: Who Am I?

Complete

Word Count: 2,835

Chapter 19: Please

Complete

Word Count: 3,049

Chapter 20: He Comes

Complete

Word Count: 2,034

Chapter 21: No Turning Back

Complete

Word Count: 5,503

Chapter 22: Untitled

Complete

Word Count: 2,797

Chapter 23: Home

Complete

Word Count: 4,170

Chapter 24: Epilogue

Complete

Word Count: 2,037

©kamilahswong

Please do not repost or reupload.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Do not re-post/re-upload/translate.

[kamilahswong]

Novel Quotes & Snippets

This is a compilation of all the quotes and snippets I have posted so far on my WIP novel.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

©kamilahswong

[kamilahswong]

What It Means to Be Home

Date written: January 19, 2017

This won 3rd in a writing competition. The theme was ‘Home.’

Word Count: 1,471

You stare at the dull gray table.

You feel the officer’s eyes staring into you like that of a ghost. He was the one that came when the store called the police. With a small glimpse, he was around thirty, fair-skinned with dark brown eyes.

His lips are curled into a frown, his arms crossed against his chest.

“Why did you do it?” He asks flatly, his voice breaking the thick silence.

“Do what?” You ask back lazily, your eyes flickering over him.

“Steal.” He bites. “Why did you steal?”

You let out a shrug. “Don’t know. I was bored.”

“Bored?” He raises a brow, his hands now clasped together on the table as he leans in slightly. “I’ve heard lots of excuses, but ‘bored’ is a rare one.”

You only shrug again.

“Where are your parents?” He asks after a heartbeat and your jaw tightens.

“They died.” Your tone is crisp and short.

“Sixteen.” He shakes his head and leans back. “Being young and without parents is no excuse to steal.”

“How about you lock me in jail?” You nod at him, your eyes dull and empty. “I’m looking for a place to stay anyway.”

“What happened to your parents?” He asks, ignoring your statement, and you roll your eyes at him.

“They died.” You repeat, a bit firmer, and he nods.

“I heard that the first time.” He shakes his head. “I meant, how did they die?”

Your lips purse into a tight line. “A fire. Our house burned down. They didn’t make it. I was lucky.”

He nods, understanding. But you stare at him, a bit fiercer. No, he doesn’t understand. He didn’t lose his parents in a fire. “What happened to you afterwards?”

“I was taken to an orphanage.” You answer. “But it sucked, so I ran away.”

“You should go back.” He tells you, his tone a bit softer.

“I didn’t run away to get taken back.” You snap. “Well? Take me to jail. I’d rather go to jail than be with other pitiful children like me.”

He shakes his head again, this time sadly. His eyes keep telling you, “how sad, you poor, poor soul.” You grit your teeth and look away.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll go call someone I know to take you away. She’s nice. I’ll deal with the rest of your case. You’ll probably get fined and—”

“Just take me to jail already.” You almost beg.

“So you’re the one that was caught stealing underage.” The foreign voice makes you look up to see a young woman hovering over you with a smile.

“You’re the one that the officer called.” You say and her smile widens. Without a word, she takes a seat next to you.

“How’s life?” She asks, her tone light with slight humor.

You wonder if she’s joking. “Terrible.”

She nods. “That was a stupid question, wasn’t it.” Then she let’s out a soft laugh, like she found the entire situation funny.

You stay silent. Her presence is strangely soothing, and you notice the small details. How she is wearing a gold bracelet on her right wrist that twirled together as if it was alive. How she smelled faintly of lavender. How her hair was not fully dark but consisted of small strands that glows red or gold when hit with the right light.

You close your eyes.

Then you feel a sense of sorrow. Something that you lost ever since you cried your heart out in front of black ashes and scarlet flames.

“I just…” You start softly, barely a whisper. From the corner of your eyes you see her pink lips curl up into a smile. “I just wanted to go home.”

“Then go home.” She tells you and you shake your head, your head dipping lower.

“I have no home.” You finally say. “Nowhere to return to.”

“Then make a new one.” She stands up abruptly and holds out her hand for you, expecting you to take it. She raises a brow when you hesitate.

“What are you doing?” You ask her, your hair standing on end.

She rolls her eyes, but her smile doesn’t waver. “Taking you home, of course.”

“Do you like it here?” Her name is Kashi Gray, which you find very ironic. Kashi, which means light, against the dullness of Gray.

You poke at your scrambled eggs and nod slightly, not sure how to answer.

She leans forward, resting her chin on her interlocked hands, almost dreamily. She smiles again.

“Do you want to live here?” She asks slowly, eyes trained on you like a hypnotizing spell. “With me?”

“…I don’t know what you mean.” You answer after a pause and she leans back again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I want to adopt you.” She says and you snap up at her, questionably, wondering if you heard her wrong.

“What?”

“If you agree, that is.” She looks at you expectantly. Her eyes are shining and her hair looks almost golden under the sunlight streaming in from the stainless windows. You look around the room. Beautiful. Peaceful. A faint smell of lavender lingers in the air. It would be nice to live here, you think. But you stay silent.

“Here,” she sits up a little straighter and her smile melts into something softer, if possible. “Let me tell you a story, and you can decide after that.”

You nod and wait for her to speak. You feel her take a deep breath, letting out a sigh. “You know? I’m also an orphan.” You cock your head at her confession. She still has the same smile plastered on, but her eyes look faraway as she reminiscences old memories. “I remember I was about your age. Sixteen. Maybe even younger. You see, how my parents died isn’t important. I grew up too fast. I worked hard. The end.” She let’s out a long sigh.

“But life isn’t as easy as stories make it seem.” She looks at you again and this time, her smile is gone. “For a very long time, I was lost. I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore, what to do with my life.” She shakes her head. “I was trying so hard to find my home; a place where I belonged. I went round and round, like a carousel.”

“How did you get out?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. She tilts her head, allowing her dark hair to fall over her shoulder, a soft tug on her lips as she remembers. She reaches across the round table and takes your hand in her warm ones. You hear the soft clanking of gold against wood as her bracelet caresses the surface. You let her just squeeze your hand. Like a mother would.

“Then one day, I was looking through my belongings. The few things I still had. I found this,” she lifts her wrist up slightly, showing you her bracelet. “My mother gave it to me. I stared at it and ran my thumb over the smooth surface and it felt so nostalgic. It was a memory of her. And it just clicked. Like pieces of my life fitting together into a perfect puzzle. Like I finally found the key to the lock I was desperate to open.”

She pauses and you wait patiently. Her brows furrows together as she tries to find the correct words, how to phrase her thoughts properly. She wants to tell you her story, and she wants to tell it right.

“You see,” she starts slowly. “Home is not a place. It isn’t the house you’ve been living in since you were young or the familiar people around you. It isn’t a thing. If anything, home is memory. It’s the memory of being happy and comfortable and safe. You see. So you can’t just look for your home. You have to build it yourself. It’s all in your head.” She taps her slender finger against her temple for emphasis. “If you believe you have nowhere to go, it becomes true. If you believe that this is your home, it is.”

Six months later you were officially adopted. It was a weird transition, from calling her ‘Kashi’ to ‘mom.’ It felt a little awkward, calling her my mom when you clearly remembered your own. But it was not unpleasant.

“It’s all in your head.” You remember her telling you. They say home is where the heart is. It’s all in your head.

You smile. Pushing the door open, you place your shoes on the shoe rack neatly, and set your bag down on the chair like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You are greeted by the soft aroma of hot chocolate mixed in the usual fragrance of lavender and a smile that you most certainly will remember. 

“I’m home,” you call.

©kamilahswong

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Do not re-post/re-upload/translate.

[kimjongdaely]

Hey y’all like art? Follow my insta: https://www.instagram.com/kamilahswong/