Few years ago,
Despite what fiction would make you believe, I strongly believe that our freedom is limited. In fact the only time you get a true sense of absolute liberty is when you are dreaming, or you are building your dreams.
And I was eight when I first laid the foundation of mine.
I was sitting in an old Nissan, in my lap was a bag full of what eight year old Amy would call treasure; which if I am not wrong was a compilation of a charm bracelet, a doodle book, some crayons and my ipod.
I was sleepy but I kept myself up, as I didn’t want to miss, not a single moment of that new chapter. I remember asking “Mrs. Sage will there be beaches and pools? My friend Kia said there are sharks in her aunt’s town. Do we have sharks too? Can we see them?” My trail of questions woke Sam up from his slumber and he gave me a stink eye and went back to dozing.
His mom turned the radio down and looked at me from the mirror.
“You know Amy I would love to answer them all hun, but if you keep calling me Mrs. Sage then I would have to take a turn and drop you off at your uncle’s”
Sam who was apparently listening on to the conversation, snickered.
I smiled sheepishly and ever since then, only when I addressed her as mom, did she listen to me.
That evening Sam showed me my new room and we were sitting on the window sill, my legs swinging and his neatly folded under him, while his hands were busy colouring a printed poster.
The poster simply said ‘Singers for hire’.
‘Available from twelve noon till two around afternoon’
It was his idea, in fact he was adding ‘highlights’ to the dull piece of paper. He put the crayon down to wipe the sweat off his face when the crayon rolled off the sill and fell in the garden below.
We both looked at each other, contemplating, whether to get it back or just to use another one. And little did we know in that painful moment, filled with childhood innocence we would discover our dream.
“One day we are gonna take over the world” he muttered, out of the blue.
“With our singing?” I remember asking him confused.
“With our singing” he nodded.
“Tell me will you always be away,
Would there be a moment when
You want to see me as much
As I want to see you”
The song whispered from the radio, I turn the volume up, and hum along with it.
I was waiting for Naina to reply back. I must have texted her like a gazillion times, but to no avail. As soon as I saw T bawling her eyes out I panicked and didn’t hesitate calling her. I texted her ‘Emergency, T – MELTDOWN’. To show her the urgency of the situation.
I refresh the inbox and then shut my phone, disappointed. She must have slept already.
I go back to the kitchen and stare at the saucepan, and its bubbling contents.
Nothing heals you better than home cooked food. Sure take out is nice and all but the process of you making something all by yourself, motivates you in a weird way. Makes me believe I can do things by myself.
I bend a little and smell the sauce and wrinkle my nose.
I realized that T wouldn’t just open up to me if I kept reminding her of her miseries. So I instead I thought of a distraction.
A movie night, and home cooked dinner!
To stop her from drowning my pillows in her tears, I asked her to get the projector room ready. I asked her to pick a killer movie, and I remember her moist eyes crinkling as she smiled at the idea.
I smiled, impressed with myself. Not so bad with the conflict management Amy. That is except when it comes to my own conflicts.
I sigh as my mind jumps back to happier times, and replays all the horrible stuff that I did to ruin them.
“Amy!” I hear T and turn around.
Her green and yellow eyes, widen as she sniffs the air, she gives me an impressive look and says “Not so bad Chef Amy”.
I stick out my tongue.
She smiles her lips stretched way too much and I notice the signs. Her foot tapping, her fingers drumming the arm, I look at her face and see that she has hid half of it behind her hair.
“What’s up?” I ask her, crossing my arms.
“I um_” she says and looks away. I wait for her to say something.
“I actually invited” she looks at the tiled kitchen floor and starts making circles on it with her foot.
“Spit it out” I suggest.
“I invited someone is it ok?” she asked.
Good god, it must be Naina.
“But she wasn’t answering my calls?” I complain.
T looks up at me suddenly her eye brows knit in confusion.
“Who isn’t answering your calls?”
The smell of burnt garlic reaches my nose and I jump.
“Agh” I rush to the stove and quickly turn it off.
Just then I hear the door bell ring. I turn to look at T.
She quickly pulls out her phone and is rapidly typing something.
“How come she answered your calls?” I ask her hurt.
“Ah Amy, I don’t know what you are talking about” she presses the phone to her ear, her expression worried “could you give me a moment” she directs it at me and hurries away.
I groan in frustration as I hear the bell ring again.
I start walking to the living room. Who did she invite now? Is it not Naina?
“No Amy, wait.” T follows behind me.
“Who did you invite?” I ask her not stopping.
“Yes I will tell you that, just don’t freak out, and promise me you wont get mad at me”
I look back at her my hand hovering over the door handle.
“T if you keep this up, you are going in for the sharks to munch on”
“No Amy! Maybe you should listen who it is first___”
I roll my eyes at her and pull open the door.
Standing in front of me with one hand in his pocket, the other in mid air, is a familiar face. Upon seeing me he gives off a sheepish grin.
“Hi?” he mutters, his shoulders raised.
I nod my head sideways and I don’t waste a minute in slamming the door on his face.
“AMY!” T screams as I stride angrily to the kitchen.
Sorry about the delay you guys. I wasn't feeling well. The coming chapters will be much more longer and more professional.
Thank you everyone for supporting me.ns22.214.171.124da2