|
4:46am Jul 21 2011 (last edited on 12:56am Oct 9 2011)
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Irony
Anger, hatred. All the negative thoughts flooded Tracy's mind as she stood, trembling in front of the dismembered, disfigured body of the domestic helper who had once lived and served her. Tracy gritted her teeth furiously and spat on the body with disdain, almost furious to the point of beating up the already battered corpse.
A few hours ago, the maid had jumped out of their 30-storey flat with Tracy's little two year old boy, and Tracy had received a frantic call from her neighbor when she was still busy at work. She had rushed over in a taxi, mixed feelings coarsed through her veins, frustrated and in tears as she sat on the torn leather seats, to see whether her little boy was alright. Fortunately, she found out that her son had gotten away unscathed, while the Filipino maid had plummeted to her death. The maid's head and back were crushed completely from the impact of the fall, and it was a gruesome sight to most people, but not to Tracy.
Stupid woman, just because my son has a better life than hers, she had to drag him down to his death! Thoughts bombarded her furious mind, and she clenched her fists tightly, her mind constantly wandering towards her son. She presumed that Suna, the domestic helper, was jealous because of the way Tracy's son was treated, with love and care and was given the greatest of gifts and toys, and that she had been planning this attack on her son all along.
The day before the incident, Tracy had found Suna looking tenderly at a picture of her own son, weeping bitterly. She had found out that her son contracted a terminal disease, yet she could not be there with him. "My poor baby... Why? Why must this happen to you?" She caressed the picture lovingly and sadly, her face pressed onto the thin glass, and her tears spreading on the bed like a wildfire in a desert bush. She was distraught to the point of madness. Almost oblivious to this tragic news, Tracy had shouted at Suna angrily, "You lazy pig! Loafing off again? What are you doing? Get back to work! I'm not paying you for nothing!" She stomped right in front of Suna and grabbed the picture, smashing it onto the ground with such force that the picture broke into a thousand pieces that slid across the floor. Straight after, Tracy used her foot, protected with an expensive Jimmy Choo high-heeled shoe, and stamped on it to make sure that the picture would never be looked at again. It was like something in Suna snapped. She stood there, as if she had just seen a great white shark, staring blankly with hate at Tracy. With a shout, she ran out crying even more, her tears staining the front of her clothes with hatred for her employer.
Lazy brat, she deserved to die. Tracy thought to herself as she looked away from the corpse, snorted arrogantly, and walked off as if nothing had happened.
The police were in Tracy's flat. They observed the scene, obviously interested, and noticed a small, plastic chair near the window sill. It laid on its left side, as if someone had knocked it over with force. Was this where Suna had jumped from the window? The policemen wondered, and started scribbling notes with cheap ball-point pens and taking pictures of the scene with an equally cheap digital camera. A string dangled precariously over the top of the window sill, and it seemed to be connected to a little red balloon. It confused the policemen greatly, how a balloon managed to fly to such a place. It was weirdly wedged between an air-condition machine and the window sill. The policemen took notice of this strange sight as well, and scribbled down more notes as the rest of them searched the area for possible signs of a struggle. Tracy had told the policemen that Suna was especially fond of her little boy, and she simply could not understand why the maid had brought the little boy to his death sentence. In fact, Suna loved the little boy just like her own son.
What Tracy did not know, though, was the fact that Suna had saved her beloved son's life. And had died trying.
A few seconds before she fell to her death, Suna had walked over to the main living room where Tracy's son played regularly. The little boy of two years old, was standing on the tiny plastic stool that was placed next to the window, so that he could look out of the window while playing. When Suna walked closer, the boy had spotted the string dangling from the top of the window sill, and was already standing on the plastic chair in order to get a little look. As soon as he saw that the string led to a red balloon, he screamed with delight and immediately tried to stand on the window sill, making his hands in a grabbing motion at the string. Suna gasped with horror, realising that the boy could fall from the 30-storey flat and to his death. She rushed over, frantic, and grabbed the little boy, but unfortunately, they both fell over the ledge.
Suna screamed, closing her eyes tightly. She could see the little boy floating in mid-air right above her, and for a second, thought of her own son. This boy was as good as her own son; She had treated him well, or even better than her own, and she could not bear to lose him. Her heart ached, knowing that she herself would perish. But why take the boy she loved so much with her? She reached out her hands, and grabbed him into an embrace. Well, even if I can't save my own son, at least I can save him. She wailed as the tears streamed from her face and flew upwards in a straight line. She whispered in his ear her last words, before hitting the ground with a loud crack, ending her life forever.
These were her last words: "Farewell, my child. May you have a blessed life. Tell your mother, that I loved you like my son. Like my own son. I only stayed on because of you." And Tracy's son never forgot it.
 |
|
2:35am Jul 22 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
bumpity bump c:
|
|
6:41am Jul 23 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Bump again. Criticism is very welcome for this short story.
|
|
4:40am Jul 26 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Mrawr. C:
|
|
7:14am Jul 31 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Up
|
|
3:19am Aug 1 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 1,289
|
;O; That was amazing. Made my eyes sting at the end...
|
|
3:32am Aug 1 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
D'aww Sas, thankies <3
|
|
7:59pm Aug 1 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 399
|
There was this bittersweet tinge to it that I loved. I loved it with your great choice and usage of words. ;) Keep up the good work!
|
|
3:25am Aug 2 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Thank you Winter, it's not very deive, unlike my usual writing. But thanks anyway! xD
|
|
6:57pm Aug 4 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 993
|
How beautiful and tragic.
meow
school's out and I'm back for the summer~
|
|
6:00am Sep 10 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
|
|
3:02pm Sep 10 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 255
|
how amazing. I could understand exactly what the characters were feeling.
 \\r\\n\r\n  |
|
4:03am Sep 15 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Thank you, diamondwing.
|
|
4:04pm Sep 15 2011 (last edited on 4:04pm Sep 15 2011)
|
Normal User
Posts: 319
|
I liked it a lot :3
A small thing I was bothered by was Tracy's hatred of Suna. Doesn't seem very realistic -- and sounds like what someone would say to a slave. "You lazy pig! Loafing off again? WHAT are you doing? Get back to work! I'm not paying you for nothing!"
No one would actually say that o_O even if they were upset. And any reasonable person would quit if they're employer said that (or along those lines) to them. Also if Tracy were more realistic, the impact of someone getting terminal cancer, especially someone that they knew (or knew of)... they'd show some sympathy at least. Especially because Suna watches her son, and she has a son, and they're both mothers.
Hope that helps :)
Status: Studying the blade
|
|
7:12am Oct 7 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 1,576
|
@Prinxess: I don't think Suna was a slave, but a maid.
"You lazy pig! Loafing off again? WHAT are you doing? Get back to work! I'm not paying you for nothing!"
That "WHAT" part should be something like - What are you doing? Caps make a word, or sentence, look like it's done by a primary three kid. "Get back to work! I don't pay you to laze around!" May be a better choice instead of "I'm not paying you for nothing!" in my opinion. Idunno . xD Good short story, realistic. The number 30 should be typed out as 'thirty' though. |
|
|
|
12:56am Oct 9 2011
|
Normal User
Posts: 756
|
Thank you Twint and Prinxess. I'll take both of your suggestions into consideration and make the necessary edit.
|
|
