Gradguation competition entry

Thursday

“Of all the people in the world, it just had to be my history teacher.”
I snapped at my mom, sulking with my hands crossed as I stared out the car screen, refusing to look at my mom in the eye.
My mom just heaved a petty sigh in reply to my exclamation.
Not much of anything was shared between us as the old 4-wheeled vintage rambled down the dark streets towards home.
I don’t want to accept it. Wait, I don’t even want to BELIEVE in it.
My mom, who has been working, as a geography teacher in my school in my late-dad’s place, has proudly announced her marriage with my history teacher a week before my graduation.
It’s not because I’m going to be embarrassed for having my history teacher for a father that I despise my mom’s marriage, it’s that I don’t understand why my mom would find Mr. Hilderberg interesting or ‘romantic’ as she described him to the overwhelmed me.
“Honey, he’s actually a really nice man.” My mom appealed to me as she turned round a street corner.
“Yea, sure.” I sarcastically snorted, as I held on tight to the seat arm as she performed her acute turn. “ I can imagine Mr. Hilderberg sitting by my bed and reading me a chapter from the French revolution.”
“Well,” My mom commented with a wry smile, “That would be sweet of him.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my head to the car ceiling, then attempting to blow my long black fringe away from my sight. Trying to pretend that what she had announced did not really matter much of anything, when it really did.
Just when I thought I would wave goodbye with a white dramatic handkerchief to my dear schoolteachers, my mom just had to fall in love with the dullest man imaginable.
Oh well. At least I’m not the one falling in love with Mr. Hilderberg.

Friday

“So whatever happened to the guy you met at Coffee Place 2 years ago.”
I asked my mom as I pushed my broccoli around the dinner plate.
“What guy?” My mom asked doubtingly, gracefully lifting a spoonful of rice to her mouth.
“You know, the blue-eyed, blonde hair motorbike guy. Didn’t you both hook up or something?” I said, forking up a broccoli and observing it in all directions.
“My dear, we only went on one date before he said he was going to Africa to save the elephants or something.” My mom answered, still amidst chewing a mouthful of rice.
“Well isn’t that at least more exciting than a man who just walks up and down a whiteboard tormenting students with a ‘sexy’ voice?” I questioned her, gobbling down the broccoli.
I was trying to make my mom change her mind of marrying Mr. Hilderberg.
“You know long-distance relationships don’t last.” My mom commented, with a slight tone of being irritated of my rattles. I guess she knows what I’m up to.
But anyways, I try again.
“You never know until you try.” I told my mom, who swallowed her mouth of rice and began hovering around her plate of food with her spoon as she scooped up bits of chicken and broccoli.
“Oh yeah, what about the surfer dude last year…”
“He’s much too young.” My mom answered, cutting my sentence. She placed down her spoonful of food and rubbed my left hand which was on the table before asking,
“Honey, do you dislike the fact that I accepted Mr. Hilderberg’s marriage proposal?”
Well. Bingo. She got me on that one.
“No,” I lied, turning my attention to the rice on the plate as I balanced a grain on the tip of my fork “What makes you think I dislike the idea of you being married to Mr. Hilderberg?”
“You’ve mentioned 12 guys during dinner and you’ve been asking of their whereabouts.” My mom mentioned, still holding onto my left hand.
I felt irritated and coldly pulled my hand away from her.
“I’m full. I’ll eat the broccoli for breakfast tomorrow.” I pointed distinctively to the heap of carrots and broccoli on my platter.
I Cling wrapped it and stuffed it into the fridge.
I knew I was being a little bitchy. I could feel it too.
Somehow I felt like I didn’t want a father. I just wanted my mom all to myself, both of us together. Mr. Hilderberg just seemed like an interceptor.
“I’ll be going to bed.” I informed her as I ran up the stairs.
As I walked down the corridor to my room, I passed by dad’s photo with mom and I in it. It was in Disneyland when I was 10.
I don’t think anyone could replace my dad’s place in my heart.
Especially Mr. Hilderberg.

Saturday

Gone out to meet up with an old friend.
Getting your favorite tortillas and chocolate milkshake while
Getting the groceries for next week’s dinner.
Do remember your promise to finish yesterday’s broccoli.
-Mommy

I read with a sleepy conscious. It was 10 in the morning and I had just woken up.
Couldn’t get an early sleep last night. I didn’t even apologize to my mom for my rude attitude towards her.
I read mom’s note, which she left on the kitchen counter and trudged to the fridge to get out my plate of broccoli.
I unfolded the cling wrap and smelt it. It was boiled broccoli so it shouldn’t be a problem eating it without the fear of constipation.
As I picked each piece of broccoli dipped it in ketchup and plopped it into my mouth, I thought of what I was going to get for my friends at the mall.
I’m graduating this Tuesday anyway.



Sunday

“Ms Lindale please, room 5” Came through the clinic’s speaker.
My mom sat beside me, her hand patting my back as I leaned forward, clutching my stomach.
“That’s your name honey.” My mom told me as she propped me as I stood up feebly.
I nodded and we walked past the crowded rows of people to room 5.
I glanced to the clinic’s bulletin at the side and saw the reflection of a girl whose face was pale and her eyes were blackened with pain.
“Here we are.” My mother cried in a comical tone, trying to make her feeling-never-better-than-worse daughter better. She swung open a door and ushered me inside.
I learnt that overnight broccoli might not be a great idea to consume. Especially when you had accidentally left it in the freezer.

My stomach pained the whole entire day, but my heart was even more in pain when my mom told me with sorrowful eyes which she covered up with a smile, that she had refused Mr. Hilderberg’s marriage proposal on the ride back home.

‘I’m not going to cry.’ I scolded myself, as I flipped through my written cards, checking that every farewell card that I was going to give was in place.

When that was done, I flopped onto the bed and closed my eyes.

The moment I laid my head on my pillow, I couldn’t rest. I just cried.

Monday

I was excused from school, as my mom forced me to stay at home and rest for the whole day.
“Stay here and rest. I’ll be home before lunch so don’t cook for yourself.” She instructed me before driving her vintage car out the driveway, which I watched through the curtains.
I had a pang of guilt in my heart. It was probably because of me that she had refused Mr. Hilderberg’s marriage proposal. I pondered up and down the house’s hallway.
I needed to reverse the situation. And surprisingly, I wanted my mom to be reunited and on the path to marrying Mr. Hilderberg.
If marrying Mr. Hilderberg could make her happy, then she should.
It was no turning back now. I locked the house and despite the painful lurches in my stomach, I rode my bike to school.
Trying to be someone in disguise, I avoided all eye contact from students or familiar teachers as I made my way towards the teacher’s office room.
“I’d like to see Mr. Hilderberg.” I acquired to the office personnel who then led me to his desk.
“Well, hello Lindy!” Mr. Hilderberg cried out in astonishment upon seeing me.
“Pladmamo…” I stuttered.
“What?” He asked, leaning towards me.
I inhaled and said loudly, “ Please marry my mom! I don’t mind!”
And without expecting any answer, I ran out of the office, out of the school compound, mounted onto my bike and sped home.
It was only after I had reached home and tried to catch my breath at the driveway that I noticed I was holding my breath the whole entire time.

Tuesday

In my laps I held the bundle of cards I was going to give to my friends. On the floor, I got ready a box of tissues, which was a necessity for drama queens on this very day.

Very day? You ask me. Yes. It’s graduation day. It was finally here.

I saw my mother standing amongst the other parents, holding her camera and waving crazily to me. I waved back, smiling at her.

I then looked amongst the crowd to search for Mr. Hilderberg’s face.

He was no where to be seen.

I sighed, wondering if my attempts yesterday was all in vain.

Everyone started clapping and I just clapped. I had no idea what was going on.

My principal ascended the stage to give a farewell speech.
Majority of the students groaned.

Halfway through the speech, the gym’s door blasted open, with Mr. Hilderberg striding through.

The principal, who has never been interrupted in his speech stopped and look.

All the students turned to look and pretty soon, everyone turned to look at him as he walked up the stage steps and excused the bewildered principal from his spotlight.

“Mrs. McPherson!” He shouted through the mike, addressing my mom.

My mom, astonished with eyes wide open froze with her hands clutching the camera, waited for Mr. Hilderberg to finish his sentence.

“Will you marry me?” He shouted, in a mix of shyness and courage into the mike.

Everyone turned their attention to my mom, who was at a lost of what to do.
My mom turned to look at me, what seemed like hopeful blue eyes. I nodded and smiled in reply.

“Yes!” She shouted back, as her camera hanged by her neck and she cupped her hand around her mouth.
Everyone started cheering and clapping, even the stern old principal.

Well there you have it. My graduation day. I even became the bit of a drama queen myself of shedding a few tears and wiping them off with a white hankercheif.