by Zoe A. Choo


I just came across an article that encouraged to simply let our words flow. So, here’s my flow.

The crispy leaves danced in the winds as they flowed through the towering, mellowed trees. A sickly, young girl stood in the middle of this forest in a ragged, pale yellow mini dress, bare-footed with disheveled, dark mahogany hair, deep, dark brown eyes, round button nose and a crack on her lower lip. She fidgeted. Gently, she placed a foot in front of her and lifted her arms by her side as if she was walking on a tightrope. A brief smirk flashed across her cheeks. She was ready.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose as she savoured the smell of the earth and the silent lives around her. She continued, placing one foot after the next faithfully as she waited. Her black vision began to turn red as a comforting warmth caressed her fine skin.

She opened her eyes and ran, straight towards the morning light. She ran faster and faster, crashing past the leaves and branches. By now, she had a victory smile on her face. She came to the end of the forest, where it was a rocky cliff. Fire flushed in her eyes, a rush of adrenaline coursing throughout her blood vessels and she released a scream of her glorious, infinite youth, leaping off the cliff. She soared.

Or at least she thought.