Wandering Eyes

• Ravie Vongma, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2010

When I was little, I met my weird cousin for the first time. I say she was weird because that was the only word marching through my head when we talked. But it was okay to call her weird, because even her own family thought she was weird. It wasn’t because of one major trait about her or anything; but rather little traits here and there that made her so weird, so unique. When we talked Emma would word her thoughts so differently, so blunt and honest, and when we weren’t talking, her eyes would glaze over and wander off into the distance, more often than not, the sky. I used to think she was weird, and I still do, but I never said it was a bad thing.

Emma was different.

She had lots of books, she showed me. A lot of them she had for reading, but most she had written herself. She loved to write, but more than that she loved daydreaming. I guess that explained why she always stared into the sky. She was a girl who dreamed a lot, always coming up with different scenes that she could write in her books, she was a girl who looked anywhere but the ground, where real things happen. She was in her own little world, and no one seemed to be able to pull her out. Sometimes she cried and told me, “This is a sad story.” And sometimes she laughed and said, “That boy’s so funny,” but there was never anyone around but the two of us. “I have to write them down,” she said, “otherwise the words are forgotten and I lose my story.” She was the most amazing person I’ve ever met, not including my mum of course.

But that was years ago. She went away and when she came back, her eyes were down to earth, she was normal and boring. When I asked if she’d written anymore stories, she said, “I’ve grown up. I don’t think I can write anymore. I have work to do and so little time. I don’t write anymore.” She smiled at me and walked away to talk to my parents. To my horror, Emma blended in, she was normal. I saw it then and there, her eyes didn’t wander off and she didn’t seem to mind. It scared me a little, that she could lose something so precious with time.

To look into the distance, and see faint colours and movements, to have a whole person developed in front of your very eyes is an amazing experience. To create a world, to develop plots and twists were something I don’t think Emma will ever forget, and she never will, but Emma, I’ll write for you and do what you no longer have time to do. I’ll dream and dream, and write them down before the words become dull. Emma, I’ll look up into the sky and dream those worlds for you, if no one else will.