sturdy presence, “Look, who is coming? You said that you would get me out of your head, did you?”
I look down immediately, counting the footsteps to divert my attention away. At this moment, I am floating myself with muscle memories. Little do I notice that I am slowly approaching the staircase to the second floor. As I am staring at the ground while walking up, a sudden immersing flashback overwhelms me, tightly grasps my thoughts, and pulls me back to the very first moment when I made my very first step up. Te stairs now have such a low rise that I can take four or five steps at a time if I want to, used to be the greatest challenge for me then. My mother was always the one who held my hand and helped me ascend. I remember how she waited for me with a light smile on her face, and her gentle sigh whenever I asked if I could take a day off and go to work with her. “Until you are grown up,” that was what she said. I swear no measurement could express how much I yearned for maturity, so I could get out of here.
A childish smile awakens me. I look up and see a little girl. She is chatting about her day at school with a chirping voice while being led downstairs by her mother. I pause for a while and look at them from behind. Am I selfish if I do not want to grow up anymore, and go back to the days when the staircase was my greatest obstacle?
When I reach the second floor, the first thing I see is the balcony. Suddenly, some mysterious force takes control of both my legs, luring them closer. I put both my hands on the barrier and look down the yard beneath. Tis point of view
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is so unfamiliar to me, I have never seen the ground from this angle. Te entire schoolyard is captured in my eyes. Te massive playground that once seemed like it had no endpoint, which made me pant after races with other kids, is now much smaller. A feeling of disappointment surprisingly arises. At this moment, there is a war between what I remember versus what I am seeing. Undoubtedly, victory is in favor of the reality that is before my eyes, since the fragment reminiscence has no chance in the very beginning. Te remnants of the battle induce a tacit consent with things in front of me.
Te curious spring wind passes by to cool down the chaos in my head. I stand there with my mind absent. For an instant, I feel my body getting little. Back in the day I stood on my tiptoes, stretched up my torso, and tried to see what was on the other side of the balcony. However, it always ended up with my anger because the sky was the only thing I saw. But now I wonder, what if that little girl found out that her endless entertainment world had an end? But luckily, I was little, so the sky was there for me to reach. Tere was no ground because my journey of life had just started, and the only way was to go forward.
“May I help you?”, a sudden voice catches my attention. I turn back and surprisingly recognize my old teacher. She asks, as surprised as me: “Yen, is that you? You have grown up so fast!” It is amusing how I neither realize my changes nor accept them, while they are evident to others. I can deceive myself by sweeping the memories aside to a remote corner and ignoring them. However, I cannot do so to a witness of flesh and bone, who was attached to my previous period with her perception.
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