SMH Young Writers Competition Submission

I am He; I am Mick

By Timon Tan

Pressing against the sheets of silk and woolly fur skin that laid on the velvet bed, Catherine cried her heart out. With eyes dripping tears that had not stopped for over an hour, she was reaching the limit where one could cry no more. Her heart ached for more to accompany the appropriate feeling but could not summon anymore.

The reason why she was crying was one of interesting cause. Forbidden to see her friend Mick, whom she was very fond of, Catherine, daughter of the King, Princess of the Kingdom of Celestial, wanted to get her way as she usually did.

Yet this time, on his royal instructions, kept Catherine in her room, banning her from stepping out, reason not told, duration unknown, and consequences severe. Disobeying her father, as she normally did with uses of her royal powers, she attempted to sneak out of her room through the windows, yet only came inches close to the castle crocodiles, before she screamed for dear mercy, inviting out the castle guards and her father’s wrath.

So now again, she cried, cried on her bed with a guard inside, with sincere sadness and unparalleled excitement, for every edge of her eye did not fail to deliver the droplets that would carry her sorrows. The guard watched her, dripping onto her royal blankets and royal pillows, running a perfect rhyme of breathing that dramatized best her current distress to the guard inside, who stood at all ends of the door, without taking as much as a blink.

“My Royal Highness, what’s wrong with thee?”

“Me Lady? Are you well?”

“Oh be gone errand boy! Be gone and leave me in my sorrow!”

“Me Lady, your Father, King of Celestial charged me with your welfare. It’s in my best interest that you may be well.”

“Woe to you errand boy! I said be gone and leave me to cry!”

And so the guard let her be, and after his shift and proceeded up to the royal chamber to report what he knew to his King whom he served and loved.

“Sire, it would seem that the Royal Highness is deep in her own sorrow. She refuses to talk, neither to eat, nor drink. All she would do is to cry.”

“My daughter has disobeyed me. She has disobeyed her father, disobeyed her King, and to that I spare no mercy.”

“Please sire, I implore you, allow the highness to her willing, so she may not be sick.”

“Son, do not give in to my daughter’s heart. Though as sweet and sincere as she may seem to taste, the core may be sour and leak what is contrary to first seen. Now get going. Rest up for your next shift, and harden your heart.”

Following his advice, the guard left. But yet, when traveling down the chamber stairs, his heart fell back to her, and thoughts directed towards the sobs that could be heard from beyond the chamber door.

Inclined to turn the knob, he placed his hand on it, and both time and sight ceased from him. His mind reflected back to his time and emotions gathered from his duty over her, and with trying contemplation, decipher the puzzle of her…emotions against wisdom…façade against what’s within…

He wanted to be with her too. He wanted to comfort her, place his arms over her, tell her that it was alright, that he was there with her, not far away…but yet, with the words of the king throbbing in his head, contradicting what he felt and saw, he did not know what to choose.

“My son.”

The guard jumped, shocked at whom was behind him.

“My son, go to bed. You will need it for your shift tomorrow.”

The guard stood for a moment, desperately trying to let go of the knob, then did.

“Sorry Mi Lord…I’m...I’m very sorry!”

“Sleep my son, for the beneficiary of your health.”

#

It was the quiet of the night when it was the guard’s next shift. Creeping quiet, so not as to awake the snoring others within the castle, he came upon the chamber door in the dark, within, the sounds of sniffles and sobs, identical to those earlier.

“Oh good you’re here. I can’t stand her anymore. It’s utterly depressing!” said the guard who preceded him.

“Is she really…”

“Look. I’ll tell you, lies and pretense are what she’s made of. Of royal blood she is, but as a perfect heir to the throne, I rather have a mule. She’s more of a spoilt child. I’m gone now. Good luck.”

The other guard stepped off into the dark as he took the key in hand, and as he did, turned to look at the guard once more whom failed to look back. Fumbling in the dark he struggled to hook the keys on his belt but lost and fell to the ground, filling the hallway with a sharp metallic vibrate. The guard bent down, searching the dark for the key on the ground, along cracks and bulges and holes that he never knew exist.

“Can’t see in the dark?”

A light shorn in his face. It was Catherine with a lamp in her hand. He covered his eyes, the little light too strong for him to look at.

“I’m all right. What I’ve been looking for has been found.” He said, as his hand fell upon a metal object. He placed it in his pocket before standing up, facing her ghostly face illuminated by the lamp light.

She held up a key.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

The guard gritted. She was smart, smarter then he thought.

“Yes. Do return it to me immediately.” The guard said.

“No. Not unless you take me to see Mick.”

“No. You will stay in your room as instructed by the King. Lady, return me the key immediately.”

“No. I am the royal princess of Celestial! You are just some useless errand boy hired by the King to look after me. Now take me to see Mick.”

“I warn you Mi Lady, return me the key and go to bed. I will get the King.”

“To hell with my father, does it seem like I give a thought about him? Take me to see Mick, or I will ensure he sees to your resignation.”

The guard sighed. The King was right. He was wrong. Inside…not the outside…sincerity, not pretense…obedience not sacrifice…he decided to do so what he had set to do. He took off his helmet, revealing his identity. With that, he smiled.

“I am Him; I am Mick.”