Paradise

• Sejung Park, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2010

There is a place called paradise- a place I cannot find. I have been searching and looking, but paradise evades my desperate pleas. It ignores and smirks at my worsening pains, my burdened heart, my growing tumours. It is playing a sick, tormented game of hide and seek.

***

I open my eyes, flinching at the blinding white light. The hospital is my second home, as comfortable and familiar as a childhood friend. A nurse smiles tiredly at me, and scatters back to her relentless schedule. Other people come and go, giving only brief glances to the shadow I have become.

A jab of pain jolts through my body, attacking it vigorously and unashamedly. Pain is a bully, ecstatic with the harm it causes in others. I breathe rapidly, closing my eyes, willing myself to stay calm. But my body is a rebellious child, defying all instructions and rules. It never listens to the pleading thoughts in my mind, or my heart stained with fear. Sometimes I wonder since when power and control eluded my grasp.

On the bedside table is a solitary photo frame of my daughter. The camera captures the essence of the moment- her beautiful, carefree smile. Photos are taken for a reason- to remind us of what the good times were once like. They stir the dormant memories within us, memories of the intangible distant past. A mother is meant to provide stability and assurance. Instead I am the melting candle. Flickering, fragile and unstable- I hide in the shadows of the unknown. Time is limited, and soon I will be a tiny spark-the remains of what I used to be.

I manage to whisper a feeble, pathetic apology to the figure in the photo.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

To my right is a large window, with access to the best views of the city. Evening is approaching, the Sun creeping subtly below the horizon. A plethora of colours diverts from the Sun, showcasing a brilliant sunset of pink, orange, yellow and purple. The nightly breeze is making its rounds again, rustling the bare trees of winter.

The sun winks back mischievously as it makes its final dive below the horizon. As the world begins to hibernate, so does my body. My eyes are heavy and droopy, bearing the weight of 35 years. I am like a tired child, wanting to go home after a long day. My vision blurs and my body starts to falter and wind down. I make one last promise to the daughter I will leave behind- “I will never be gone Sophie. Just as the Sun is masked by the night sky, you may not be able to feel my presence, but I am always there.”

A lonely tear rolls down my worn cheek, a sign of despair but also of personal triumph. Let go, whispers a voice in my head. I imagine someplace where the sun rests gently on my face, where white roses bloom and a place where pain is a stranger. Death is approaching but I do not fear. Finally, finally, a place called paradise is waiting.