Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Oh Dear Ivy

Ivy was not sure about a lot of things, but at some time in her heart and mind during the days following her tiff with the icy driveway, she became convinced that there were three plausible explanations for this condition. It was either from God, an absurd as that sounded; a cruel joke; or something more sinister from heartless people. Regardless, the pain dominated her thoughts every waking minute and her dreams at night.

Secretly, she began to make plans to travel to other hut the following months, year. At first she told no one, not even her parents. She had no reasonable defense in any exchange that would result after such a disclosure, and she was afraid that she might get locked up and the key thrown away. Anyway, she rationalised such a conversation would only bring more pain with no resolution. "I am keeping it to myself for the sake of everyone's happiness," she told herself. Besides, acknowledging the pain would mean admitting that she had kept secrets from her, secrets she still justified in her own mind, her pain. Sometimes honesty can be incredibly messy.

Convinced the rightness of her impeding journey, she began to open her heart again. She has been toying with the idea of becoming less painful again. So, she found this musical box in her journey of pain. That was not the thing she had anticipated, and she gave it a quizzical look. She thinks it is a great idea, but at first, she thinks she can survive alone for a couple more years, despite she has a lot to do anyway. She shrugged it off, perhaps grateful the path for her to find the musical box. She can throw anything in it while the musical box always gives her its favorite songs. She is not alone anymore.

And the story may begin.