A haunted heart (A journey to Cathyland)

At a malicious 10° C, the night winds in Cathyland could be pretty vicious. Surely not as vicious as those in subtropical countries, but still harsh according to Cathyland standards. Escorted by such companions, I was strolling hastily along a main street at 11 PM, hurrying to approach the warmth of a good warm-watered face-washing and fluffy blankets at home. Cathyland was a cheerful place to live in, bright with greenery all around, and that was the first time I was strolling late at night. It's chilly.

Along the walk, the muted rustle of the canopy of leaves above, from time to time, curtained the dark sky I gazed upon. With the dim light-bulbs installed along windows and verandas of houses I passed by – their incandescence felt as strange as mechanically-still fireflies – I really can’t help but be philosophically melancholic, different from the usual bright sunny daytime.

As all the mental tumble towards the valley of memories started to take pace, It was almost midnight; the gust gave sheer cold into my marrows; houses and fences all looked shrouded in mist and ghostly – it’s a perfect scene for a metaphysical creature to appear. A ghost. Whatever that is. And it did. It was haunting. It’s haunting almost in every aspect. I could feel something overwhelming my presence, leaving me scared and regretting my stroll.

Out of the blue, I heard of a melody, started with an echoing rag piano played in obscure chords. The melody entered the fray and started to put those gloomy, retrospective melodies into place, along with certain other . The echoing piano, which was simply ectoplasmic, never stopped until the end – in a grim fashioned melody.

It intrigued me so much I was trying to find where that melody came from. It seemed far yet the more I walked, the darker the sky, and the stronger the melody was heard. What was that? How could a melody be existent at this point of time? I wish I hadn't gone out and explored the night feeling inside this land, but it was too late, cos I have explored and couldn't stop being enchanted by such a melody as if the soles of my feet were forced to move along with the melody.

Then, I searched my way to the source of the melody. I could hear laughter inside houses but that faded away through the darkest facets possible. My legs couldn't stop walking, and found a house. A house that seemed so gloomy.

In my common sense, I would avoid such enigmatic house. But I was not having free will, I felt like my legs couldn't stop walking, bolstered by my own curiosity, there's something about the house that was very appealing. I approached the house and arrived at the door. Instead of knocking, I touched the doorknob and all of a sudden, the door swung open and swiftly as if there's vortex swirling me around, I was suddenly caught up inside a room, with vortex of bubbles all around me. It was strange, I was clearing my vision by waving the bubbles away, and tried to see where I was, but it was an empty room, at least that was what I thought I saw. I couldn't even find where the musical instrument located. Then I paid attention to the bubbles. Each bubble presented certain memoirs, or whatsoever it was, like a kaleidoscope... The melody kept playing, the sound incorporated an unusual spectrum of melody, sad yet enchanting. The bubbles disappeared fast, then slowly from the ceiling, one or two bubbles would come down approaching me, as if all the other bubbles weren't as interesting or profound as the ones coming nearer me. Soon, my fear lingered, and I was then drawn by my intense curiosity to explore what these bubbles were about.

I opened my palm up and touched one of the bubbles, it popped and as if I was sucked inside, I saw a lil memoir. I saw a family, family preparing for dinner, and they were laughing, it felt like a deja vu, I felt like I knew that family...But who? None of these made any sense to me... Out of the blue, the family broke apart...The father left his family...There were shoutings, heartbreaking scenes like a delicate glass broken into pieces. Damn...But why? They looked such a fancy family. There was tears, amguish, I saw a face of the young girl who tried to understand her mom, and her mom was crying but I didn't know why it didn't affect me, cos before I could feel anything, that vision or memory ended, like a bubble easily gone...

I touched again another bubble, I was then witnessing another scene. I saw someone, a girl and another guy, they were young, very much in love. Ah that was the girl I saw earlier, she grew up and she met a guy apparently. Such pure love...

The guy did everything to make the girl happy, had always whirled her with his love, his romance. He was a man with the most radiant smile. The girl was drawn to his gentleness and his pure heart, the way he could lift her spirits whenever she was down and the way he would encourage her in her endeavours. He could always sense it when she was down, and she often found little acts of encouragement like being phoned by him, and asked to hang out with him. He was, to put it simply, the ideal boyfriend. I just started to enjoy the view and then the scene was gone. Sigh...

I then walked again, and saw another bubble from the ceiling going down, I was so eager to see such pure love story that I touched again and it popped and... ah, it wasn't the love story again. It was another scene, school scene. There were 9 girls, the girl was among one of them. They seemed to be in a school, very happy with all their little naughtiness, teasing their teachers, they called their group as Sisterhood, the girl was the 7th sister. They did what all teenagers did in high school, gossiped about their crushes, and they had some fights as well, but there's one curly haired girl closest to the girl. Weirdly, I couldn't know their names, though all their faces looked familiar. The curly haired girl's voice was the brightest, highest, and she wasn't very shy and then It dawned on me, the girl and she were best friend cos they had lots of phonecalls, discussing anything, same hobby, reading and eating together, sitting together and in their sisterhood, the curly haired girl and she, again, were the closest. 

The scene was then gone again. I was again left in that empty room of the house. Awaiting another bubble to come down, I completely lost track of time. It was like watching a movie, a very memorable movie. There it was, one bubble coming down. I hurriedly went to touch the bubble, and there popped another scene...The girl was in a car going on a trip, she asked the driver to stop by a house for a while, there were some other people in the car too, and she was like knocking the door of the house, pressing the door bell, and she couldn't help but crying in front of that house. I keep wondering why she cried, but I could feel her sadness as if our psyches were united. Then the curly haired girl, her best friend, came out of the house, and in no time, the girl hugged her, and asked her never to forget her. "What are you crying about, you said you would never cry during our farewell!" muttered the curly haired girl. But she herself cried so much. I assumed the curly haired girl was about to go abroad or somewhere, and they both hugged each other and said gratitude and apology. I could tell that they had shared such a beautiful friendship. The girl had to leave, the car was waiting, she left the curly haired girl her sincerest letter, and she went away. The scene  disappeared.

I found myself in that room again, my eyes were moist, why such sad scene? I started feeling a connection with the girl, obviously, all these bubbles were all about her. There was another bubble coming down, and soon another scene again. She looked a bit more mature, there she was opening the door for someone. A man! He looked old and weak! Who was he? Then I recognized him, he was the man, the father that left them in the first memoir I saw. He cried, and the girl hugged him and cried together, it was a short moment seemed like something was in dad's mind, disappointment and guilt. The girl was moved by his dad's tears, but when her dad got back home, she acted brave like nothing happened. Why would she do that? She should have just shown her emotion...Ah, emotion, such a complex feeling... Then the scene twirled and there I was in that empty room again...

Then, suddenly a burst of bubbles came rushing out like a fountain of them... I could see some pieces of the memoirs, when the girl laughed a lot, in what seems like her university, and scene gone, then another bubble where the girl joined lots of activities, being busy and working, another bubble where she tried several relationship that never worked out, but out of that she could still laugh and despite sadness, it didn't make me feel that intense sadness like the big bubbles that came approaching... 

And another bigger bubble came nearer, I was then seeing the girl's sister was crying, but the girl wasn't crying at all, and then they brought their mom in hospital, ah their mom was sick, and I could see her mom then was in hospital, and with her sister and brother they were in hospital taking care of her, but soon, their mom was fine again. The scene was gone again. Thank God! What an ambush of memoirs for me! It's just weird, yet it happened!

There I saw, a big bubble coming nearer, and the sensation came again, feeling like I wanted to know, to witness, to see and to be there for them... The bubble popped and there I was seeing such a scene: As the girl slouched on a sofa outside what seemed to be her bedroom, her mind was wrecked with anguish and regret. I could feel her heart was gripped with strange tightness as she prayed, "Oh, God, please don’t let him die." She thought of all the hurtful things she had said to him, her gross mistreatment of his pure love to her. "Don’t let him die…" Who? Who died? My mind kept running inside me and forced me to think again and again?

There she sobbed convulsively as she recalled how inhumane she had been to him. All she wished for was another chance to make it up to him. As the reality of his death hovered, she realised how much she actually loved him and how she missed his steady presence by her side. "Please let him live…oh let him live…" She pleaded with every fibre of her being. There I saw, what she was thinking about, the boat capsized, it was the guy, the guy that was in the second bubble I saw, the guy with that radiant smile... Newspaper had published that accident. His body wasn’t found. But his family had set up a memorial meeting. He was believed dead."

Scene was gone. I feel tears coming down from my eyes. What the hell? Why did such a good and great guy die? I kept questioning too, and I was feeling like all those memoirs whirling me, with all the bubbles coming and suffocating me and I hardly could breathe, I was trying to get out of those memoirs, but then the bubbles turned violent and tried to enter me... I tried to run, run away from that house, and the bubbles formed like a water choking me... more and more

I tried running away but my feet couldn't even run, they were heavy, I felt so tired, and then I collapsed...

Dark, it was dark... I was suffocating, and then solemn....

                                                                        ***

My eyes were blinking, trying to earn my sights, and there I saw my bedroom ceiling, just waking up from such a dream, oh was it a dream? It felt so real and I touched my face and it was moist with tears, and then I knew whose life the memoirs portrayed, yea, how could I not know...The girl was ME! The dream was such a retrospective midnight ambiance of my own heart. The memoirs were long forgotten, yet they existed in my deepest psyche...

I sat down and started to think about every bubbles of my life. Bubbles are all the moments in life. Each person has his or her own bubbles. And there are moments that are more memorable, happier, some are just the ones we are trying to forget, yet sticking in our mind. Wishing all the painful ones vanish into thin air...

Comprehension fails me why a perfect moment can never stay for long...But afterall, we always have to get on our feet and move on...

Be tough, so they say... The bubbles inside our heart are parts that make our memory memorable forever to time indefinite, albeit sweet or painful, it is haunting indeed but it provides big lesson...Making my heart tougher. In time, when I taste more of life, when I grow older, these bubbles would turn more beautiful kaleidoscope like rainbow path that I have walked on!