16th April, 2015. 6:06pm
Writing 101, Day Nine: Point of View
Today’s Prompt: A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry. Write this scene.
Today’s twist: write the scene from three different points of view: from the perspective of the man, then the woman, and finally the old woman.
Jamie and I walked through the park, hand in hand. The memories of what just happened in the street still haunts the two of us. I know he doesn’t show it, but I can tell he’s still pretty shaken up with that little girl. She was so young, so precious, and her life was taken just like that because of a reckless driver. What bothers the two of us the most was that the girl got hit while crossing the pedestrian, and she was just a few steps behind us. The sound when her body hits the car still echoes in my ear. I don’t know if I could ever recover from that.
As Jamie and I nears the fountain we always loved to hang out in, we saw an elderly woman knitting a small, red sweater. Jamie suddenly stopped, and his grip on my hand loosened. “What’s wrong?” I asked. When I looked in his eyes, I knew. He doesn’t need to tell me. It was then that all of Jamie’s courage was shattered as he knelt and put his hands on his face. For the first time in forever, I saw the love of my life break down. I buried his face on my chest, giving him the tightest hug I could ever give, and weep with him. It was then that I knew our relationship has just gone on a different level. It was then that I realized I was right in saying yes to his marriage proposal. I was supposed to tell him I want to wait for three more years before we get married, but seeing him like this, and seeing life left the little girl’s body made me realized life is too short to hold back on love.
It was supposedly the happiest day of our lives, because I finally had the courage to ask for my girl’s hand in marriage and she actually said yes, although Cerah told me she wants to wait for three more years before we actually get married. It was a beautiful surprise, I guess, especially since her family and best friends were there. But on our way to park for our weekly hang out at the fountain, our entire future was turned upside down.
Cerah and I were about to cross the pedestrian when I saw a little girl tailing us, chocolate ice cream cone in hand. As we were waiting for the stop sign, I ask the little girl, “Where’s your Mommy?” to which she answered, “She’s at work. I’m with my grandma, though. She’s sitting there at the park knitting a red sweater for me. My parents can’t afford to buy me a new pair so my grandma made me one instead.” I then asked her to take my hand so she can cross with us, that she doesn’t have to be afraid, but she dismissed the idea saying, “It’s okay. You go ahead. I’m not afraid. I have a feeling I’d fly like an angel, anyway.” I didn’t get what she was trying to say, but I don’t want to push it either, because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to kidnap her or whatever. Cerah kissed me on the cheek when the light signals that we can finally cross the street. I took one last look at the little girl and saw her smiling back at us as my fiancé and I were passing through. About halfway through the street, and a few seconds before our time to cross the street ends, we heard a crashing sound. I leaned my head back and saw the girl flying through the air after the truck hit her. I wanted to run and catch her, but she was falling too fast, her fragile body hitting the ground before Cerah and I could even take a step toward her.
I don’t know how long my girl and I stood there, as she, along with a few others, call 911 for help. I was too stunned to do anything, but I tried to keep my shit together for my girlfriend. My heart pounded so hard it’s making me deaf. Luckily, my bride-to-be was there beside me. She shared some of her courage with me, and we continued walking through the park when the ambulance arrived to pick up the girl.
As we were about to approach the fountain, I saw an old woman sitting by the bench, knitting a red sweater. It then hit me, the girl’s grandma still doesn’t know. My knees suddenly starts to wobble until it gives up, sending me to the ground. I almost lost the grip on Cerah’s hand. She tried comforting me, asking me what’s wrong, but all I could do was cry. I couldn’t even find the words to say. In that moment, I saw the little girl’s smiling face again, as she tells me how unafraid she is of crossing the street, and that soon she’ll fly like an angel. I put my hands on my face because I couldn’t take it anymore. I cried on my girlfriend’s chest so loud, in attempt to drown the sound of the girl’s body crashing on the truck. After what seemed like years, I looked at the elder woman, silently apologizing for not even having the strength to save the precious angel she was making the red sweater for.
My granddaughter Jemma’s birthday is coming up, and all she wanted was a red sweater. She has been asking her parents since Christmas but they just couldn’t afford it. So I promised her that I would make her one instead. I’m not really good at knitting, but for my only granddaughter, I will try to make the best red sweater for her 7th birthday.
I was almost done with the sweater when Jemma and I visited the park. It’s only two days before her birthday, and I only had to make the designs. She told me she wants an angel’s wings at the back, so that when she wears it, it will look like she has one. We were sitting on the bench for about half an hour when she announced that she wanted an ice cream. Because she always does it, I handed her my coin purse and let her buy what she wants. She’s a smart girl, She knows how to get back to find me, she can even cross the street if the ice cream truck happens to be on the other side of the road.
As I wait for my granddaughter, I fished through my knitting bag and got the white thread so I could start on the wings. Ten minutes later and I was already growing weary about my granddaughter. Maybe the line was just long. It was a weekend, after all. I continued knitting.
I think I heard a faint crashing sound after a while, but I wasn’t sure what was really happening down the road. I’m 72 years old, and my hearing isn’t that clear anymore. I continued to try finishing my granddaughter’s red sweater, until a young couple walked and stopped towards me. The young man suddenly knelt down and cry. I don’t know why, maybe they had a fight. Whatever it is, I hope they’d resolve it soon. Meanwhile, Jemma still hasn’t come back, but I push the thought at the back of my head. Jemma is a smart girl. If something happens to her, if someone kidnaps her, she knows what to do. So I continued knitting. When she gets back, she’ll be surprised about what I’ve accomplished. She’ll be proud grandma just made the best angel design red sweater she could ever have.