Saturday, 6 June 2015

[Flash Fiction] Nineteen

(Inspired by Eleven by Sandra Cisneros)


Nineteen. Last year of teenage, they say. What should you do? Prepare yourself to be twenty, or have fun while you're young like you're eighteen? 

When you're nineteen, you're also eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one. When you wake up and expect to feel nineteen, you don't always do. When you think it's all just yesterday, and today is today, you don't feel any differences at all. 

Like when you think you're mature, but you're not, like you're still eighteen. Think you know the best but you don't, like seventeen. Stubborn like sixteen.  Be a drama queen like fifteen.  Emotional and unstable like fourteen. Do stupid mistakes like thirteen. Speak without thinking like twelve.  I might not take things seriously when I should, like I'm eleven. 

Maybe one day when I'm grown up, I will still be selfish like I'm ten, full of ego like I'm nine, expect people to do things for me like I'm eight, pout when I don't get what I want like I'm seven, say stupid things that hurt people's feelings like I'm six, try hard not to cry but cry in the end like I'm five. You'd wish you'd grow up soon like you're four, or wish that you'd never grow up like you're three. You'd be helpless like two, depend on everyone on everything like you're one.

But you can also take a next step. Wish you're 30 and be one. Like you've experienced almost everything, you can give advises to people like you know it all. Be mature. Be 20. Be 21. Be 22. Be 102. Wise old woman who learns from mistakes. Who is thankful for her past 101 years before this one. Who knows what to do. Who cherishes everything. Who is loving and caring. Who serves people even only with a warm smile.

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