One Rong View

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Short Story part 1

There was a little girl who loved to climb the giant chiku tree in her grandparents' front yard. She loved to go into the drain in front of the house after a rainy day to watch tadpoles swim. She loved to run around the back yard, chasing chickens to observe their fluttering wings. She loved to play make belief with her little brother. Some days they were traders, some days they were performers, other days they were just plain old explorers of the new frontiers.

At nursery school, kindergaten, and primary school, she played with boys. Something about their rowdiness appealed to her. She had a My Little Poney. It was pink, it was sweet and it was cute, the way toys for girls should be. It had its fair share of make overs and tea parties. But just like He-Man, Optimus Prime and GI-Joe, its heart was really set on destroying the evil bad guys. It flew among heros as equals.

The boys stuck their tongues out at the girls. So did she. The boys played catching and threw chalkboard dusters at one another. So did she. The boys fought. So did she. They got into trouble. So did she. The teachers told her she was naughty as a boy.

In secondary school, she gave a boy a box of chocolates. She thought he might be her best friend because he wrote her letters in English class. She never heard from him again.

Her mum started saying she needed to be more lady-like. Her aunt said she needed to be more feminine. She thought she was fine the way she was.

Once, a Catholic school girl she had met at a camp fire said she was cute. She was flattered but let it pass. Maybe that's why her mum and her aunt kept telling her to wear dresses. She learned that the Catholic school girl had carved her name in her flesh. Maybe her mum and aunt were right.

The boys she wanted to play with left her alone now. They had been called to something that she could never be part of. It was strange, she didn't know what to do. She was lonely but she managed to get by. Even sat beside a boy once, alone. She never liked horror films. She never did it again.


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