My world is simple. I’m just a teenage girl with many memories. One memory, however, played a big role in my life. To you, it may just seem like an ordinary memory, but to me, it was a part of me – my life. Welcome to my world.
Even though it’s very hazy, I can still remember small bits and pieces of this memory. I was your everyday hyperactive four year old girl, ready to explore my parents’ native country, China. I loved staying at my grandparent’s place. The apartment is extremely old, but you know, old places hold more memories.
Just like every other night, at 16:30 I would either beg my grandfather or grandmother to take me to a nearby park. You may ask, ‘Why go to the same park every evening?’ My reason is simple: there was a beautiful fish fountain. It looked like ancient crafts men woke up from their eternal sleep and crafted a fountain for their king; it was just that beautiful and ancient looking. I still remember how the edges were gracefully shaped and the colour was a dark grey moss-green.
Every evening, before I left for my little journey to the park with one of my grandparents, I scratched in the cupboard for biscuits. Once I found a few plain ones, I would eagerly run to the front door, jump around enthusiastically and urge my grandmother or grandfather to hurry up. Of course, being in their mid 70’s, they loved to take their sweet time and make a four year old girl wait.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, they gave me a little nod to indicate that they were ready to leave. They would always insist that I must hold their hand while we go to the park because apparently little girls like me would get ‘lost’. At last we would stand in front of the entrance of the park, ready to walk in at any moment. The arches by the entrance were a faded red with a dark green and gold sign, displaying the park’s name. Not too far away from the entrance, I could see the little fountain. Feeding the fish was one of my favourite activities of the whole trip to the park. After breaking the last piece of biscuit and throwing it to them, evening has approached. It was time to go home.
Six years had passed, I went back to the park… but only to see it was gone. That year was also the year when my grandparents became weak, especially my grandfather, who had Alzheimer’s. He forgot everything, also at times he would constantly ask who I am.
Although it’s painful to see both my grandparents so weak, I had made good memories with them. Even though the park was destroyed, the memories of it will forever stay in my mind- as it was a part of my world.
