Night

Marie Ku

Tonight is lovely.

I discover a clear, open space in the middle of a small park, and lie on the yellowing grass. The starry sky remind me of home, no matter where I travel. I remember laying on my back, looking up at the beautiful sky with its shiny moon and lack of clouds. Just like now, looking at the unchanging night sky.

It feels perfect-the place, the moment, the quiet, everything. I love it all.

I feel reminiscent of my original home, Orcaska my parents called it. It was my first ever word, apart from 'mama'. Orcaska was a giant version of a sort of candyland, with bright pastel and neon colours everywhere-fit for a 'cutesie' girl to live in.

There was a massive iron gate painted with violet arcylic, and you'd enter through it on a smooth crystal path. On a bricked circle, there would be a white Colonial style table and matching, outdoor chairs. There was a flowery porcelian tea set on it, where we usually had afternoon tea.

It was nothing special unless you included the little rabbit in a checkered suit and golden pocketwatch that served the tea and desserts, and a striped lavender tabby that would try to steal your soufflé. He had a round bell on its collar that tinkled, so you'd know his whereabouts.

Beyond it would be the forest. It was lush, unwordly and full of life-literally. It was my favourite place to stargaze in the evening with my parents. The leaves were maroon, with little pale flowers. You would always hear the low buzzing of a Firal (a colourful furry beast that ate insects) as it stared hungrily at the Monarch butterflies.

The crystal path halved the forest into two parts, and as you walked further down you could hear a gushing of a waterfall. Then, there was the heart of Orcaska.

The 'heart' was a wide, circular clearing with a suspended throne of amethyst. The floor would be tiled in white howlite. Behind the throne would be the towering waterfall that surrounded the clearing. You'd have to jump or create your own bridge to enter the 'heart'.

Beneath the glistening waters were pretty Koi swimming languidly-they all had their own eccentric names in my days of solitude.

And that was Orcaska. I sit up, brushing the stray grass off my dress, the sky no longer pleasing to the eye. The rustling leaves started to seem more ill bearing than not. I have overstayed my welcome, and I stand to leave. Thinking of the Koi had made me feel queasy in the inside. I had recalled a fact Alison once told me:

"Orcaska was not only your home, but a prison from what lay outside."