The young writer's mind

My darling girl wrote and submitted this as an entry for the writer's circle few years ago.

Time, what is it? Well, having looked it up in countless dictionaries and numerous English books that I could lay my hands on, I realized that Time merely lives in our imagination.

Omnipotent, it passes by man, quietly, unnoticed, never ending. Time dwells in our minds, bringing us the future, hiding away the past. She laughs out loud as she carries to me Past that I have ever so resented. Past, that almost made Future cease to exist. I slowly close my eyes. Once again, Past opens herself to Present…

I was a young girl of twelve when I was involved in a road accident involving a drunk driver. My life was almost cruelly stripped away from me. The doctors did everything they could to save my life. Eventually, I fell into a coma. In coma, it was then I realized that Time was all I had to myself. I was a still body and my survival was in the hands of a breathing machine. But still, Time never left me, nor was she any comfort to me.

Time brought me to a whole new realm that had never existed before. It was a place where Past and Future dwelt. A place where everything was beyond your control and a place where things beyond your wildest dreams came true. It was home to Time. The place where she took control of everything. A world where anything could happen. I adored her world and stayed in that realm without a single care in me. I was free from Death for Time protected me.

I soon forgot about my life, my real life, family, school and my world. But in the world where Time kept me prison, I soon longed for love. Hungry and desperate for love. Love which Time never gave me.

I ached for my parents, who were always by my bed side, waiting for me to wake up. They never gave up for they had faith in me. Faith which I had never appreciated. And so, my hunger for their warmth and comfort encouraged me to return from the unreal world of Time.

I begged Time to release me from my cage-less prison and so she did but with threats that I would die without her. My heart started to swell as I saw my mother by my bed side, asleep. I could not call out to her for I was still stuck in another dimension, the fourth dimension of time. How I wished that a miracle could happen and I would rise from my deep slumber.

Time called to me softly, "It’s not too late if you want to come back with me”. I refused and she left me.

Then, I realized that I hadn’t lost all there is. I still had Love. And it was Love that kept me alive. Had not it been for Love, I would have died instantly. And so, Love gave me the physical strength to recover. I slowly regained consciousness without the help of any machine (which I subsequently found out to be have been 60 odd days after I slipped into coma). Miraculously, the recovery phase went on smoothly and I returned to the real world and continued my everyday life within one month there after.

But, even when I’m recovered, I will never forget one thing. Time is precious, yet it is unmerciful. Time took care of me yet, she lied to me. She lied to me that she was all that I had. I realized that I’ve learnt my lesson not to fool with time for she’ll fool with you too. And most of all, never take Time for granted for, she can do many things. Many great things indeed.

I open my eyes and I see my mother quietly sitting in the corner of our living room, knitting and my father busy and intently reading the newspapers. Past snatches that memory from me once again and stores it away. I hope Time won’t bring up Past anymore.

To Time if you are reading this, thanks for your hospitality, but I think I prefer the real world, my world.