Empty house on the mountain in winter
It's been a while since i last blogged. The other day we were talking about blogging, me and Cathy, and i talked about the last blog i wrote about a story in winter time. She was surprised. She told me there was no story about anything about winter. Puzzled, i asked her what was the last thing i wrote in the blog. She remembered it's about a letter to Jin. That i could remember. Then i asked again, if she really didn't read anything about Jin and Rina, about their childhood, teenage time, the difficulties in relationship and the fall out? All the while with the story sets in white winter in suburb of some winter country. No. Cathy confirmed.
Three months later. 1:21 AM.
Lying on bed in the dark, in the room used to be my sister's i started to think about the story. The story that was never written, suddenly came to live. Images of the story. Not the birds that flu branches to branches in the white wood as i looked up the forest opening. Not the fox and rabbit, there were no trace of animal trails. Nor were there any humanly sign. Not Jin and Rina, or their parents and friends. There were only trees in the white wood. Sitting among the trees there was a small wooden house. It is somebody's home but i couldn't remember whom. The house exterior were intake from all these winters, like in the movie set, so as the interior, everything looks untouched. It's space was fully furnished, yet it was empty. The fire place in the living room was left cold. Then there was a wooden desk situated in a bedroom on first floor facing the snowy white wood. I guessed that belonged to Rina, i could recognize the desk. There were three drawers on the wooden desk, i pulled the first drawer. There was an antique wooden box with a key hole, on top of the box was a carving of english word - memory. The box was locked.
I looked around in all the drawers, underneath the desk. I turned to my right and found a single bed in white linen and a pillow. A simply bed. It could be in more decorative style and lively in it's time - girly, cute, or modern design mattress wrap with a couple of stuffed toys, but now, it is just a simple bed with mattress wrapped in white linen. I ran my palm across the surface of the white linen. It was smooth, but cold in the winter. I ran my fingers across the wooden frame underneath the mattress where i briefly swiped through something uneven in the inner bed frame. I slowly traced again at the uneven spot - a suddenly protrusion and smoothness on the rougher wood surface, a cellophane tape, with something stuck in it. I tore it off. It was a key, a very small key with no marking.
The box unlocked dully as i turned the key to unlock. I opened the box and there was a white unmarked envelop. I ran my fingers across the surface of the envelope. There was a letter inside the envelop. Without reading it, i knew what it said. A letter written for someone dear that expected to be read but unlikely to be found, given the circumstance. A letter that were once supposed to be the medium of communication between two persons, now stuck in a limbo of unsent and un-received. There was no one to send and no one to receive. Both persons became faceless, and disappeared from this world, a fragment of the world that i created where there used to be chatters and laughter, and cries of people, chirping of birds, ruffling of little animals through the thick snow in the wood and the whistling of wind through the trees. Now the air and everything were still, as if time stopped but i know my memory will never hold. Soon it would shrunk further and this world would be lost forever. All i have left is only the letter.
Three months later. 1:21 AM.
Lying on bed in the dark, in the room used to be my sister's i started to think about the story. The story that was never written, suddenly came to live. Images of the story. Not the birds that flu branches to branches in the white wood as i looked up the forest opening. Not the fox and rabbit, there were no trace of animal trails. Nor were there any humanly sign. Not Jin and Rina, or their parents and friends. There were only trees in the white wood. Sitting among the trees there was a small wooden house. It is somebody's home but i couldn't remember whom. The house exterior were intake from all these winters, like in the movie set, so as the interior, everything looks untouched. It's space was fully furnished, yet it was empty. The fire place in the living room was left cold. Then there was a wooden desk situated in a bedroom on first floor facing the snowy white wood. I guessed that belonged to Rina, i could recognize the desk. There were three drawers on the wooden desk, i pulled the first drawer. There was an antique wooden box with a key hole, on top of the box was a carving of english word - memory. The box was locked.
I looked around in all the drawers, underneath the desk. I turned to my right and found a single bed in white linen and a pillow. A simply bed. It could be in more decorative style and lively in it's time - girly, cute, or modern design mattress wrap with a couple of stuffed toys, but now, it is just a simple bed with mattress wrapped in white linen. I ran my palm across the surface of the white linen. It was smooth, but cold in the winter. I ran my fingers across the wooden frame underneath the mattress where i briefly swiped through something uneven in the inner bed frame. I slowly traced again at the uneven spot - a suddenly protrusion and smoothness on the rougher wood surface, a cellophane tape, with something stuck in it. I tore it off. It was a key, a very small key with no marking.
The box unlocked dully as i turned the key to unlock. I opened the box and there was a white unmarked envelop. I ran my fingers across the surface of the envelope. There was a letter inside the envelop. Without reading it, i knew what it said. A letter written for someone dear that expected to be read but unlikely to be found, given the circumstance. A letter that were once supposed to be the medium of communication between two persons, now stuck in a limbo of unsent and un-received. There was no one to send and no one to receive. Both persons became faceless, and disappeared from this world, a fragment of the world that i created where there used to be chatters and laughter, and cries of people, chirping of birds, ruffling of little animals through the thick snow in the wood and the whistling of wind through the trees. Now the air and everything were still, as if time stopped but i know my memory will never hold. Soon it would shrunk further and this world would be lost forever. All i have left is only the letter.
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