My heart



Semi-sweet and a little nutty. Lover of zesty lime-green and dangerous shades of red. Adores cats and music, big on all things bright and beautiful. Still a work in progress.

Message to Readers

Hey there! It's my first time writing here. Please feel free to give constructive feedback on how I may improve my writing. Your advice is greatly appreciated. Thanks a billion!

Rico and Candice

November 9, 2015

PROMPT: Living People

"And there we go"

She heaved a sigh of content as she pulled a pair of sparkling silver tweezers from the transparent glass of dilute vinegar. Its thin, spiry legs held on dearly to a round, glistening silver coin featuring 2 morning glories on its surface. The intricate craftsmanship of the mint had managed to carve the flowers so deceptively real. It was as if they were uncurling their fronds lazily like a person stretching in the morning. She gingerly turned the coin around, her fingertips turning white with all the strength she exerts on them. At the back, the country's name, Singapore, was engraved in her 4 national languages. A lion and a tiger proudly holds the state emblem. Beneath it inscribed in Times New Roman size 4 was the year the coin was born. She held it closer to her eye as the morning's golden beams bounced off its lustrious surface with glee. 

"2013! Oh gosh, I got the latest coin!"

She couldn't believe her eyes. After 10 years of collecting foreign coins, she finally struck jackpot at a time where she did not expect any discoveries. She was perched on the side of her impeccably neat, snow-white sheets held up by a simple teak frame waiting for her new room-mate. Oh my god, she thought. This is the best day of my life. She could feel her facial muscles contracting, pulling her cherry lips into a long-missing smile. At last, her effort of saving up little dimes and pennies of kronas was worth it. She punched in the air and did her signature victory dance while singing the familiar tune of "Celebrate Good Times" when her dorm door was opened.

There stood a girl in a coral-sea-green hoodie that covered her eyes. She dragged her large, reluctant suitcase into the dorm and plopped down onto the the neighbouring bed. Singapore's average temperature is 28 degrees celcius, but yet she seemed  like she was all dressed up ready for Autumn. The fiesta got pinched off in the bud. She approached the other girl as she let down her hoodie, revealing a chocolate brown Japanese bob. She resembled someone, it was the worst deja vu ever. What's his name? It was some Japanese film involving a girl who made friends with a white dragon while her parents were turned into pigs. Glorious, it was killing her, but the new-comer and one of the main characters, they are carbon copies of each other. She had thin, streamlined eyebrows and tea-green eyes that spoke volumes. Her sharp, tall snub nose and her hollowed cheekbones bestowed upon her an exquisite aura. The new-comer made her feel bad about her looks inside. She looked like a work of art from Michelangelo's hand. The new girl had the face from heaven. It always made the first girl wonder how the little double-helices in the human body were able to code for beauty. And that is why she has landed herself in the Faculty of Genetics. She needed to know more how to control and produce beauty. She believed that somehow, beauty can be manufactured if we can re-assemble these sequences. Then all would be born pretty, and none would run the risk of a plastic surgery failure. It was an argument deeply rooted in vanity, but that is what caught her attention. 

"Hey there, what's your name? I'm Ricochet." She smiled at the new comer. Rico's bright, turquoise eyes met with her cool, minty green ones. Rico held out her hand to shake hers. Instead, she cast her glance onto the maple-leaf patterned, floor to ceiling, glass-doored bookshelves before looking back diffidently.

"Hello. I'm Candice. " She mumbled in a thick French accent and gave the slightest of smiles like how swallows swoop down gracefully upon a crystal-clear lake. She did not take Rico's hand.

This put Ricochet in a spot. She was the Head Girl back in her school in Sweden and all the members of her clique were extremely outspoken. They loved fun, they sang aloud and they even formed a band together. Rico recharges by talking to people, but taciturn individuals trigger a nervous breakdown for her. They only stare into her soul but never utter a word of what their mind processes. This reminds her of a dream she's had 2 days ago. She sat in a cold, mouldy but starkly lit room with a naked, fluorescent bulb. She meets a person with no mouth but eyes the size of teacup saucers. The creature inched towards her staring into her soul and searing her innards. She cowered back but he leaned closer until she could see the patterns of his blood red iris. His pupil dilated at such a rapid pace that it soon became a bottomless blackhole that vacuum-suctioned her in. She screamed as she sweat buckets, her feet hooked tightly onto a chair made of needles for dear life. She felt the individual sharp tips puncture her flesh as she sunk her foot deeper into the leg. It has never felt so excruciating and she woke up drenched in cold sweat, teeth chattering as she thanked the heavens above it was just a dream. Her new classmate then, a transfer student, was so eerily quiet, it sent chills down her spine. 

Letting an introverted stranger see her jamming about sent a gush of blood to her cheeks. It's was such a dreg. She could feel the heat radiating from them and felt her hair-width capillaries dilating. She thought about her favorite book she brought along with her here in the foreign tropical country: The Stockmen. She thought about the awkward meetings of Jack Gleeson and Mary Ryan, of Rosie Highgrove-Jones and Jim Mahoney. That was a sweet kind of awkwardness. However, the cold, bitter and suffocating silence is vastly different from the experience she has seen in the last book she has read. It was a clear afternoon, Rico's favorite. She'd totally go for peppermint and chocolate chip ice-cream. In this immensely embarrasing situation she is in, Rico could smell her sweat and feel it gathering on her upper lip even though she's just taken a shower. She could no longer enjoy the warmth of the sun on her skin even though she lived by the ideology "No sun means no fun."

"Wait, why are you wearing such a thick battalion of bracelets? Aren't they heavy?" Candice suddenly questions with one brow raised as she looks on inquisitively at the golds, silvers and fuchsias that dangle on Rico's bony, ivory arm. She instincitively made a little gasp and swung her arm behind her back before Candice could ask on further. Bracelets are Rico's thing. Back at home, she had this whole treasure chest of them in cornucopias of colours and designs and she wore as she liked. Each morning while we get up and think about our plans for the day, Rico would run a peachwood fine-toothed comb through her coppery, curly locks and wonder what bracelet should she match with her outfit that day.

This was her favorite present too by her aunt who worked in India. Nothing beats a family gathering at a birthday. There is no better way to celebrate a birthday. She remembers fondly of her first birthday party 14 years ago and her aunt gave her a mauve, plastic beaded Dora the Explorer bracelet. It was her "bae" and till today at 19 years old, she reserves a special place in her treasure chest for this very important piece of jewelry. Rico collects lots of things and shiny, sparkling things appeal to her the most. Thank god she has a very efficient and easy way of organization, her things never get out of place. However, since all that glitters isn't gold, Rico is guilty of collecting scrap pieces of junk. For instance, when she was younger, she boasted an entire collection of aluminium foil from around the neighbourhood. Come to think of it now, it was both a weird and useless display. Why was she even proud of such things in the first place?

"Eh, nothing much." Rico lied, she felt a droplet of sweat travel down the hook of her nose and settled on its tip. Her thin, pale lips quivered. 

"It's nothing, really, trust me." She plastered on a smile and inched backwards on barefeet in contact with the smooth wooden floor. However, as she was desperately trying to hide, she's tripped over the large powder blue luggage of hers. Her eyes widened in shock as her luminous blue eyes overwhelmed with fear. Her mouth opened as she inhaled a gulp of air to scream. Her flailed her arms and her bangles slid down her bamboo-pole like arms and revealed thin, faint brown, horizontal lines on her wrist. They were evenly spaced out, but some where thicker than the others. They looked like the frets on a guitar, it was melancholically beautiful and that had captured Candice's eyes. The teen sat upright as her alert green eyes focussed on the artwork conveniently cached by Rico's bangles. Her secret has been unvealed as she regained her balance. She felt Candice's gaze fix on those ugly scars of hers and immediately regained her poise. It was her turn for her clear cyan eyes to dart back and forth, avoiding those fresh verdants at all costs. 

"Yes, I draw often and life wasn't smooth. Please do not judge." She covered her forearm as she turned away, letting her reddish-brown curls shield her sorrow. She was not the same as the other artists, but just as talented. Her canvas was her skin and her paintbrush was an icy, lifeless metal ruler residing in her pencil case. Rico had clandestinely cut on many occasions. But thanks to her bracelets they were never discovered. Also, a bubbly, jovial and happy-go-lucky Head Girl will never do this kind of thing, will she? Rico withdrew back into her invisible shell as she sat on her cosy, white-washed sheets. 
Expecting herself to be alone, she was surprised when she felt a firm, sturdy grasp on her shoulder blade. It was Candice. Instead of the feelingless, distant French stranger who had intruded her moment of happiness, she was now a benevolent and confident young lady who stood by her side. With no haste, Candice rolled up the long, tubular sleeve of her uniquely colored jacket to reveal her darkest secret as well. On her wrist were battlescars of uneven length and width that resembled Rico's. 

"Don't worry, I draw too. No need to be embarrased." With that, she gave a smile that warmed up the whole dorm room like the golden daffodils in suburban France. 



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