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The Reality in Love

Essay by   •  February 28, 2019  •  Creative Writing  •  667 Words (3 Pages)  •  28 Views

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ARIAL 12 (as required)

Reality has never hit so forcefully! Over the past few days I learnt anything really is possible. Whether negative or positive, no matter how much we try eluding the truth. So here goes my story.

On Wednesday twentieth, when school was over, my chivalrous chauffer opened and exited his car door to make his way to the passenger’s. Not because I am important or anything of that sort but it had always been in his courteous nature to respect both the presence and existence of others. What a lovely gentleman! On the issue of having someone to drive me around, my nurturer trusted him to protect me when I was out of her sight. He then kindly opened the door and stretched his massively muscular arm to direct me to my seat. Without wasting any time, as is of the essence, I entered the vehicle and got very comfortable. It was unusually warm in the vehicle, a little too warm perhaps. Tyler never switched on the air con unless he had unpleasant insight to share with me. He believed the hot ventilated air eased up the mood in the environment. Having observed this, I made sure to hold in my curiosities, I knew I wasn’t going to be exactly joyful after receiving a response from him. Although, he mysteriously commented “ We’re almost there’’ as if he was reading the sixth item on my curiosity list in my head. I again ignored any possible chance of melancholy, instead I stole a glance to hint to him I heard the words from his mouth.

Right after, we arrived at the very much anticipated destination and a fear crept upon me “Why was she not the one to pick me up from school today?” Tyler’s car parked right outside my uncle’s hospital and we went in. The difference between him and I was that he was strutting while I was trudging my way into the building, otherwise I could tell he was just as internally dispirited as I was. Of course I was smart enough to surmise somebody sentimental had been admitted but the question was “Who?” We were welcomed by a tidy looking nurse, whom also led the way to a private room. I was not ready at all, I felt sick to my stomach and my heart was beating uncontrollably. She pushed the door to open it. A lady who gave birth to me was peacefully laying on the pink hospital sheets. I closed my eyes but my tears, far from crocodile tears, filled the inside of my eyelids until they forced their way out to cascade down my cheeks. She knew I was quite the emotional being, so my display of hurt was indeed allowed. Even if it made her weaker than she already was. She was more lifeless than a rock, but that didn’t stop her from fighting. She held out her hand in utter struggle, it gave me hope.



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