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[Chu Vân Hương (Van Huong)]

*Topic: Short story
*Title: No title
*Writer's name: Trần Phương My
*Highshool:
Email: [email protected]

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Her hand was holding my hand tightly. I squeezed her hands to let her know that I was there. I was helping her to stand up. She was so weak that her whole body trembled when she tried to stand to greet me at the door of her house. On the day I visited my old nanny, I realized that she was really weak, much weaker than the last time I met her.


She was the one who held my hands so that I could learn how to walk. When I was little, I would cry and call her name as soon as I opened my eyes. She was always there. But now, I was the one who had to hold her hands so she could stand up. I grew up and she grew older. I became stronger and more independent, she became weaker. I wanted to be there for her like she was for me. But then, I couldn’t. I wished there was something I could do, just to make her life easier.


She was the best woman I had ever known. She raised her sister’s children all by herself after her sister died. She was only sixteen then. She worked hard to earn enough money for their living. But as her nephews grew up, they all became slaves for drugs; and instead of helping her, they made her life worse by spending all her money on drugs. When my family was still poor, she helped my parents to watch over me because we were neighbours. Since I was so fond of her, she could not leave me and ended up staying with us for seven years instead of a few months. She was the first mother I had in mind.


My family had to move according to the requirement of my father’s job. I got separated from her. I cried. I missed her. But my tears started to go away since I had other things to do. I got used to my new life and soon forgot. But she must have thought of me a lot, because people told me that after I moved, she took out my pictures and talked about me all the time. She must have been very proud that I grew up to be fine with her love and care.


I came back to visit her every year. Everything changed since when I was there. As my house grew bigger, my parents became wealthier, her house became tinnier and she grew poorer. The distance between my nanny and me also widened. She looked at me not as the little girl that she once had taught up, but as a daughter of a wealthy family who came to visit her. Instead of kissing my cheeks like when I was little, she kissed my hand. I did not know how to react; I stood there and stared at her.

I could not tell her stories like I was little; she could not hear me anymore. She was just looking at me, full of love hidden behind her eyes. I wanted to do something for her. My mother said the thing she needed the most now was money. She was sick but she did not have money to buy medicine. My mother gave her money every month, but I guessed it was not enough because her nephews still took her money to buy drugs. And I did not have any money to offer her. I only had love, which I did not even know how to express so that she could understand. Then, I heard that she would not be able to live more than five more years, which came as a shock to me.

I remembered promising her when I was little that I would grow up to be so rich that I would buy us a beautiful house and lived happily there. Then she would not have to do anything, just stayed with me forever. But no matter how hard I thought, I had no way to be able to buy her a house, not even to mention a beautiful house. I had no way to pay her back what she had done for me.

Every time I left her house, I had a feeling that I would never be able to see her again. I knew that she could collapse anytime, and I would not be able to be there to hold her hands and to help her stand up. Then, I would cry helplessly and wished I had enough money to buy all the medicines she needed so she could live longer until I could do what I had promised her.

I cherished every moment that I could be with her, because she was the woman who had taught me how to love and how to be loved.

 

[Nguyễn Vân Mai (nvanmai)]

Comments from the Writing Contest Board of Examiners:

“Emotional story yet no deep thoughts, no solutions, weak ending”

“This is more like an essay to me than a story. However, I like the materials based on which she writes it. I can see her sincerity and her feelings, and sometimes, a little clumsiness in her expression makes the feeling more real. I also like the way she puts her growing up parallel to her nanny's deterioration. At times, her expression reveals some grace and elegance " ...instead of kissing my cheeks like when I was little, she kissed my hands...”

“This is a sweet story of the love of a young woman for her caregiver. Unfortunately, it reads more like a journal entry than a short story. The deep feelings of love one has for one who has cared for them are universal, and we often feel the desire to give back to the one who cared for us. Many times we cannot. So, instead we freely give our love to others when we are able, in place of the one who cared for us. There is universality in the theme; however, the author missed her chance to illuminate it”.

“Touching but no clear action, could have been developed more”

 

[Nguyễn Tú Anh (Tú Anh)]

*Topic : Short story
*Title : Untitled
*Writer's name : Nguyễn Tú Anh
*Email : [email protected]




I am walking amid a dark and foggy forest. It is afternoon, I guess. Well, I can not make sure. It is so cold here, so cold and silent. Everything is a blur. I can not see. Because tears are blinding my eyes ? Because I am so confused ? Maybe I am just too scared. I am running on such a strange road and do not know which way leading to home. The wind is blowing fiercely.

"People never say what they really think. And that makes me scared"

... Rain is falling down my shoulders ...

"People just come to leave. They say hello to bid farewell just 5 minutes later"

Cold drops of water are creeping on my skin.

"Is it true that my two best friends are falling in love with each other ? And am I becoming nothing more than an unpleasant obstacle between them ?"

A hot drop of water runs down my face, warming myself up.

"Is it true that the boy I love is feeling the same about me ?"

A wet green leaf suddenly touching my cheek makes me jump up.

"Is it true that everybody finds me so ridiculous ? I wish I can always stride comfortably along the street with nothing in my mind"

Taking a look at the tree above me, I scream !!! That hairy black spider crawling on an old branch seems to be observing me.

"A rope to hang myself is never an ideal solution. Neither is a glass of potion. But I have thought of them before, on days of despair"

... Spiders are disgusting to me ... I move to other tree ...

"I hate being ignored"

There's no bench here. I sit on the damp ground.

"I have never heard their voices before but their voices do obsess all my dreams. Voices chase me and I get sick of voices. I just want to be alone"

I run my fingers on the dead branch as though playing piano.

"I hate it when my mother keeps coming in here and cleaning my room. I just want to be alone"

Another hot drop of water runs down my face as that song "Hello" by Evanescence plays in my head.

"I wish he sends me another email. Why he stops sending me emails ? Is he getting fed up with me ?"

I look at the sky above, hoping to see stars.

"I should not have spoken too much. Boys do not seem to like girls who speak so much"

But the only thing I see is darkness crowded with trees and leaves.

"I feel so terrible ... and now, I hate talking. I hate talking to anyone. I just sit by the computer all day long and type down my own story"

I feel so tired. It must have been night and no longer afternoon because I am now feeling very sleepy.

"Some friend tell me about a song that has made 32 people commit suicide. I don't know. I am listening to a song now and I am feeling really bad"

I lie down the damp ground and immediately feel the coldness running through my clothes.

"My ears need to hear some soft words and my lung needs to breath in some fresh air"

I am sleeping ... And when I'm sleeping, I feel as though I am on a conversation with those people on internet. All those feelings of unreality ... All those online talks are just like dreams ... You can not touch or see those people in person.

"My hair needs being touched by a hand and my heart needs an encouragement"

"I hate that so-called internet love because it is nothing more than a phantom. But why I still get stuck to all those conversations ?"

I have been sleeping for how long ? I do not know. But when I wake up, it's still dark as ever.

"I think going out can help me feel better. And yes, it does make me feel better"

Looking so long into darkness tires my eyes. I lie down again and start another sleep.

"Why mom and dad do not want me to go out ? Sometimes I have the feeling that mom wants to keep me at home with her so that she does not have to feel alone"

It's so difficult to sleep now because I no longer feel sleepy. Millions of images keep spinning in my mind and millions of melodies keep making my heart thump crazily.

"Dad seems to be a stranger. He spends more time outside than at home. Sometimes I get scared of him. Sometimes I even hate him"

I want to go home. Loneliness starts to be quite creepy.

"They never stop thinking that I am a kid. That's why I never tell them about my problems ... I never confide in my mom again, she will never understand me"

The song starts playing in my mind - "I'm far away from home and I'm facing this alone for much so long" ... I stand up, completely awake.

"When I am being serious, they just plays jokes on me ... There are pressures put on me that they'll never know ..."

... "Too much love will kill you ... anytime ..." ... I have tried to do everything. I tried to please everyone. But when I think I'm bringing happiness to everyone, it turns out to be the most unwise decision ever. When I try to please everyone, I myself go mad. When I can not confide in anyone and keep everything to myself, I go mad. I explode ... The last thing I hear is that song "I'm just a poor boy. Nobody loves me ...".

The story is ending and I lie there, amid the dark and foggy forest.

I no longer hear the song. I wished to disappear and someday, all those creatures in this forest would help me to disappear. I fall ... fall ... fall ... down an absolute darkness ... I hear that song by Black Sabbath. I used to get frightened of that song. But it just fits me so well by this moment of life ... I would die with the radio turned on and the sounds of Secret Garden echoing through days and night ....