Screen shot 2016 05 01 at 3.43.14 pm

Grace Ow


Since I was young, I was a voracious reader and had a deep love of words and the way they could be used to convey meaning. I hope that my words and my stories would have a positive impact on others.

Message from Writer

Every face that we see in a crowd has a story behind it. I am trying my best to listen, tell and share all the stories that I can.

Grow Up

April 28, 2016

PROMPT: Imagined Scene


GROUP: True Stories

"To you, everything's funny;
​You've got nothing to regret.
I'd give all I have, honey,
If you could stay like that."

                        - Never Grow Up, by Taylor Swift

I am in my room, and it was a typical afternoon. Back then, iPods were alien to me, and smartphones were premature ideas barely conceived, a wild imagining. Instead, I had a radio, in the corner of my room. I pressed the buttons on the radio while half-closing my eyes, my hand automatically reaching out to adjust the settings. The music plays, and I watch in awe as the world around me seems to fade into a myriad of colours: a blend of honey-brown oak tiles, with patches of pink tints of Barbie dolls, the sunlight peeking out from the curtains in rays of gold, shining on me like a halo. All of this is lost in the music that seemed to fill a small room that was the size of my world: the soothing strums of guitar strings, and a female voice, soft and sweet, that seemed to be whispering a lullaby. 

Five years have passed, and almost everything has changed. That small room that used to be the size of my world now belongs to someone else. I travelled miles and crossed oceans, and am now in my new room. The pink of the dollhouse and the Barbie dolls have been kept away in a cupboard to gather dust, while books have taken their place. Now smartphones have dominated my existence, and there is one, sitting on my bedside table. I search for the right music, half-closing my eyes, my fingers automatically tapping the screen to spell out the right request. Finally, I find it, and as the music plays, it feels like I have travelled back in time, to a world of honey-brown and pink and sunlight, a world where time runs at its own pace. I feel the streaks of tears on my face, as I hear the familiar strum of a guitar strings and the voice whispering lullabies. This time, I can hear the words in the lullaby which I had glossed over as a child, but five years of wisdom has been enough for me to not just know but understand; and not just understand, but the feel the force of the meaning behind every word hitting me like a blow to the stomach.

"Oh, I don't wanna grow up,
Wished I'd never 
grown up,
Could still be little, 

Oh, I don't wanna grow up, 
Wished I'd never 
grown up,
Could still be simple."


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