My Colorful Memories Will Never Fade| I am a Blue

30 8 10

by Daffy_M0091

by Daffy_M0091

I glance around my bedroom and see an old casket decorated with bright star stickers above the top of the closet space. I hand it down and blow the dust off at the same time as I pat it off. I hold it in my right arm while carrying it and walking into the kitchen as the reassuring claws of my cherished purple bird soothe me on my left arm.

During moments of discomfort and distress, a meditation I embark on when taking a deep breath and reflecting gives me comfort. I look out the window, and I am flooded with childhood memories.

I am a Blue

I vividly recall a scene of childhood etched on my tranquil mind: at that moment, my favorite grandmother gifted me with a silver casket. Its dazzling shine captured my attention. Despite feeling confused and unsure whether to keep it, I couldn't resist being fascinated by its polished surface. I notice her unselfish, magnanimous compassion, and generous nature as a characteristic.

While I watch ghostly mannequins in the space between my old self and my great-grandma, I can hear a cheerful voice echoing. My nine-year-old baby sister and older brother walked together enthusiastically to join in and wave, saying 'Hello, Great Grannie.'"

I watch in silence as a tear falls, seeing Grandma look enthusiastic and joyful. My sister looks so young, and my older brother seems like a tween obsessed with his skateboard. I see my younger self still without defined sex. I look normal and personable, wearing neutral clothes in navy, camel, and beige shades. I love that version of myself.

My great-grandmother squeezed her hands on her chest as her smile beamed a delightful warmth.

At this moment, I see the hard-to-see image of her smiling at my sibling and me, but my memory is hazy.

Closing my eyes, a few tears trace down my cheeks. Upon opening my eyes, the recollection persists in silence. My eyes are already full of crying.

The purple bird sitting on my right arm seems in disbelief and turns, looking at me with concern. It shows deep care for me. I breathe as I hear.

chirp... chirp...chirp... chirp... chirp...chirp...

chirp... chirp...chirp...chirp... chirp...chirp...

As soon as I open my eyes in sorrow, I turn my bird, looking ready to tear a drop, and we understand each other where we have pain.

I am a Blue

I again recall seeing their faces look bright while they were focused on writing their letter in silence behind Great Ganie. I looked at them, and my old self smiled when Great Gannie looked at me, but I tried to hide and cover myself in a chair.

I hid behind the ghostly sofa when I heard a noise. My sixteen-year-old self strode downstairs in the living room and seemed energized, texting with her friends.

With confusion, I opened the door to see a person soaked in murky fluids, neglected hair, a single gum stuck, a wounded eye, and ragged clothes. I took a hand covering my mouth. Seeing my younger sister ghostly behind the chair, I wish I could have saved her long ago, but I did not, neglecting her instead of asking for help. She didn't look happy with who she was.

My old self asked, "What is happening to you?" I apologized. Let me hold the tissues for you." My sister's voice seemed hollow as if she didn't appreciate my request.

I am in pain to see ghostly.

My old self planned to get a tissue, and I caught my younger sister telling herself wearily, "I dislike who I am. I know I am not a bright person and am exhausted because my classmates bully me daily. The time has come for me to change who I am. I want to be a human, and I want to throw everything into the fireplace now."

Seeing this scenario, I see where I missed it. Although I have struggled my entire life, I have loved myself beautifully because I have a unique personality and do not let anyone steal my heart.

Watching my old self in nervous shock, holding a tissue, when my baby sister patted her hand in front of me and said, "No thank you". I watched her walk past me and go upstairs like I had no idea.

I am a Blue

When I reflect on a melancholy moment, tears fall, and shock as I recall the night I planned to get water, my eyes catchmy sister, who had adopted a style. She had curly medium hair and was dressed in pinkish pajamas. She didn't seem happy and tossed her belongings into the fireplace. Her letters and gifts turned to ashes as her eyes reflected a fire, and she inhaled and exhaled a single tear dropping.

She stepped back and remained silent, inhaling and exhaling, watching the fireplace burn out of control, her things.

I hid behind the white wall within a horrible scenario, knowing she had changed who she was for that moment, but I could do nothing to save her from riding roughshod. After that, my parents tried to take a family meeting and interact with my sister despite her keeping tight-lipped about her problems.

I am still recalling and feeling quiet but trying to calm my overthinking and apologetic thoughts. My sister's heart still loves me dearly, and she struggles to find comfort in our family. Yet, she's terrified to welcome my family openly because of the judgmental world around us.

I am a Blue

I open the old casket decorated with bright star stickers, which displays a time capsule with photos and an old letter inside. As I search for its content, I see multiple old pictures of my siblings and me and antique images of my family, reminding nostalgia.

I flip through many photos until one intrigues me. It shows a young me, heartily cuddling my toddler sister. We both wear purple shirts with neon star logos and laugh playfully outside.

I smile and feel so good when I look at every photo to refresh my memory, making lovely moments over the moon.

I am a Blue