Break Me

The mind is full of surprises,
You cannot not know what you do know.
Or can you.
Test out my life,
Give me a challenge.
BREAK ME.
If you can.
If you want to.
Give it a try.
Like you said,
You cannot not know what you do know.
You have nothing to lose.

Woken

Bent forth, condemned to precision, Howe Ming lifted his pen with his right hand. It trembled as it moved towards the paper, beads of sweat dropping towards the page. His hair was damp, face contorted with determination. His eyes ached from focus and his mouth tasted of cardboard. Not a single drop of saliva could be made for his parched tounge. He looked down upon the page and prayed that he not fail. His teacher, whip at his side, hanging there like a sleeping snake, watched his every breath. His worst fear was to wake that foul beast, for it would slither across and bite his back. Over and over and over again. The tip of his pen touched the crinkled sheet and he began to write. Blood flowed to his boyish cheeks, an flushed red like correction ink. He glanced at his teacher, and in seeing his reaction, his pen slipped. "No!" He cried. But he had already felt the strike.

Day of Meeting

My words to use: puddle, doctor, cash, turnip, unflappable, idiosyncratic, tree, ebi, argyle.

   It was late on a sunday evening and I was in my garden, tending my turnips when this doctor rolls up in his fancy lamborghine gallardo. Don't ask me how a small town girl like me knows a big shot car like that. This man in the car gets out of his seat, opens the door and walks over to me. He's about 6'2, maybe 170 pounds, pretty scrawny in my opinion. His eyes are an unmistakeable hazel brown and he had skin of an Italian. Straight on you would say he was midly attractive, but from the side it looked as though he plucked his nose right off of a bird. His clothes though, oh how they screamed for attention! He had on a purple argyle sweater, bright orange pants and heavy duty work boots. I just couldn't imagine where he was coming from.
   So the man comes over to me and I stand up, and he sticks out his hand in greeting. Naturally my hands are covered with dirt, so I give him a nod instead and ask him what he wants. He says he is looking for what I had to offer him. I give him a quizical look and say I don't have much cash if that's what he was looking for but I did have some ebi inside. I explain that ebi is a Japanese specialty, but he shakes his head and says no. He turns and walks over to the a stump of an old tree and sits down. Very odd. He looks as though he is waiting for me to follow, and so I do, but I am already ready to tell him a peice of my mind. I tell him that I don't know what he wants and that he should leave before I call Puddle. He looks at me with weary eyes and gets up, grabbing hold of my face. He kisses me ever so gently, then let me go. I have never seen this man in my life, and he expects to come here and kiss me as if I was a whore? I push him away and glare at him. He says no, I guess you wouldn't understand, and walks back to his car, leaving me behind before I had a chance to say anything. I didn't think I should follow him, incase he did some other idiosyncratic thing, so I let him back away onto the main road, and drive away in silence.
  That was the day I met my husband, and the day my wings of freedom became unflappable.

My Little Sister

I took my little sister to the farm today. In the past we had come here, and with each my sister loved it more and more. When I was six she had been diagnosed with Down syndrome, which had complicated our lives completely. I hadn’t fully understood what was wrong with her until my later years, and often times I would become frustrated with her. She would always ask my parents why I would get so angry with her, but they couldn’t explain it in a way she might understand.

Once we arrived, I clambered out of the driver’s seat and went around to help my sister out of the car. She placed both feel firmly on the gravel, then I pulled her up and out until she was standing straight. I shut the door and took her by the hand, leading her to the painted white house.

            “Do you remember it here?” I asked to her.

            “Yes I do.” Her angel face glanced at me, but then continued her gaze at her surroundings. We walked towards the house, where Mr. and Mrs. Maple would be, and I knocked on the door with her hand still in mine.

            “Hello darlings. Perfect day for you to stop by; I can feel the rain in my bones and it will be here by tomorrow.” She looked across the barren fields towards the mountains, lost in a train of her thoughts. She quickly blinked, as if we were forgotten before, and returned her focus upon my face.

            “Now, are you here to see the horses?” Before I had a chance to speak, my sister piped up with a squeal.

            “I am! I really, really am.”  She unclasped her hand from mine and grabbed Ms. Maple’s. She tugged sharp and aggressively, and I could see the pain on Ms. Maple’s face.

            “Hold on a second,” I told her. “Just let Ms. Maple put her shoes on and we will be at the horses within minutes.”

            When set, we all headed around back, to the barn full of animals.

            “I want to ride one today.” Not even a question this time, but a statement.

I looked at my little sister with sorrow. She was looking up at me, pure joy upon her face. I held her gaze for a few moments, but her eyes were so full of glee that I had to look away. I knew I had to tell her no, but didn’t know of a way that wouldn’t upset her. I opened my mouth to speak and said one word, but I knew instantly it was the wrong one. Her eyes closed as she looked away, squeezing them shut as if she could escape this place. Her face was draining fast of colour, all sign of happiness had left her.

I broke a connection that day, and have never since got it back