Lim Aear

Disclaimer: See Prologue.


Chapter 5


‘I have always been jealous of all those great narrators who have remained in history; all those who spoke of unique heroes, important themes and hard-to-grasp notions; used colorful and delicate language to express thoughts, feeling and ideas of intelligent minds.

I, on the contrary, am the humble creation of an even humbler writer. I speak of no great things; I have no story to tell; no hero to worship, criticize or just present. But my master’s heart is aching and their mind burning and I was called to speak in their place.

I begged my creator to give me a hero or heroine; a great battle or a revolutionary view on society. But they claim they know of no such things; they are not great artists, only a piece in the cruel game of Love and Loneliness. And these are the reasons why they were forced to resemble an artist and my only help in this battle.

So where do I begin? And how do I process? There is no “Once upon a time” that fits me. No logical orders for my work. No happy endings and tearful resolutions. No, no, no: a big No to everything; a big No to Love.

Love. I have tasted it before. Once I was in love with a character. I was a character of my own back then and I could feel, touch, join myself with the normal flow of life in an invented world. But now I’m no one. I have no life of my own, no love to make me real. I am an empty presence who observes, but doesn’t participate. I am just a narrator; and not a powerful one, mind you. I do not know everything. I cannot reach the deepest thoughts of the people I talk about.

So what am I? A narrator who has no real reason of existence. Even worse, a narrator who has tasted Love, fell in love with Love and now is deprived of it. Not that my master is cruel, on the contrary: they desire so much to give, but how to give something you do not have? And they searched hard to find it, believe me. But the world is not an ideal fairytale and the prince is nowhere to be found. The princess must wait and she must wait alone, weep alone in a world who doesn’t feel her pain; because the world already has love, or never had it to miss it.

Ah, so there is my heroine. A lone princess in a strange castle, where people move fast; change; progress; live; while she stays apart from them, because her reason for life is not there. Many princes have come and gone; she welcomed them all, even the cruel ones. She lived then, having a reason to wake up in the morning and wait for something new, a change. But now everything is the same: she wakes up, eats, sleeps and all the while, waiting. A routine, such a routine! And that pain, that cold, heartless pain that tortures her everyday, that feeling of emptiness and longing for Life… for Love…

So, there, I have found my theme too: Loneliness. And what a complicated one! Some people enjoy their loneliness; they find it a break from their fast-paced lives. Because they have it all and naught they miss. They want to get away from people because they don’t need them; they can live on their own and people are a mere extra for their selfish contentment. And these are the kind of people who get everything and leave none for a Princess, because they can’t love anything else, but themselves.

She was one of them once. She wanted everything and cared for nothing. She demanded, took and asked for more. They gave her all they had, but she was never satisfied. There was always something more to ask for, something more to do for her.
Until one day, she asked for too much. More than she could get. She never thought of the consequences. There was only herself and she had to be satisfied. So, everything was taken from her. She was left with nothing. Only Guilt, Regret and Loneliness; and the empty, strange castle.

Only then did the Princess realise she can love; that she WANTS to love, she has always loved. So where is the Prince? When is he going to show up? She has stopped searching; she can’t risk another slap. She can’t trust. She can’t ask. She can’t give. Only the Prince will make her live again. Only the Prince will make her love.

Because she can. But she found out too late. She got hurt. And she won’t do it again so easily. Please come quickly, Prince. She’s dying inside.
So here is my story; my heroine and my theme. I have no ending to give you. No resolution can I provide. Because I am but a humble narrator and my creator even humbler. If they were not, I would have never existed.’


She wiped the tears on her cheeks and tore the pages from her diary. She crumpled them in her fist until her knuckles went white and squeezed her eyes shut. She had written that some time ago, when the pain became unbearable; when she missed love so terribly, that she imagined a Prince on a white horse would come to rescue her from her hell. He would make her believe in love again and drive all the guilt away. He would make her feel precious. Loved. Wanted. Not the worthless creature she felt right now. But she wouldn’t take it for granted this time. She would not ask more than she could get. She had learned her lesson and learned it well.

How ironic. He was actually a Prince. A real one. Like one of those in the fairytales, like the one she had wished for. And what had she done? She had run away. But what else could she do? Stay when a dozen of some mythical creatures were pointing their arrows at her and wanted to keep her a prisoner?

She didn’t remember how she had gotten out that night. She only remembered running in a daze and locking herself in her house, making sure that not even a window was unlocked. She had looked then towards the beach again and saw that no one was coming. Relief had washed over her but a pinch in her heart made her realize that she would not see her beautiful Prince again.

After what had happened the previous year, she was sure she would never fall in love again. She had promised to herself that she would never get close to anyone, anyone who would promise he would love her forever, only to leave her alone and suffering. She would just have fun, flirt and play. No commitments. No promises. No broken hearts. No one promising her forever. There was no such thing for her as eternity. Eternal love did not last…. Forever did not last….

But the Prince… he was immortal. Does forever exist? She sighed. Everything was so complicated. Why couldn’t her life be normal, just like every other girl’s? Was she paying for her arrogance and profuse self-confidence, which had turned her life upside down over a night?

Why did she burden her mind with all that? Why couldn’t she just forget everything and pretend that it never happened? Some people did that so easily… And she gave everyone the impression she did too. She laughed and joked and had fun with her friends, but when she found herself alone in her bedroom, everything came back to her with even more force.

Why do I have to analyze everything? Why can’t I just forget and move on?

She was determined to forget that night. She grabbed her diary and ran downstairs to the living room. The fireplace was clean; it hadn’t been used since winter. But soon, it was filled with pieces of written pages, ripped with rage and determination, until nothing was left but a pile of torn memories, thoughts and feelings. She took a lighter and lit up the pages she had been reading that were still held in her right hand. She watched them burn for a while and then threw them in the fireplace. The paper caught fire easily and after a while, all that was left was the dying flames and the ashes.

She kneeled in front of the fire place with a blank look on her face. She should be feeling free. Stronger. New. But all she felt was very, very empty. And even more confused.

She opened her eyes groaning and dropped her head in her hands. That was supposed to have been a liberating action. All she had managed, was to leave herself with a bunch of ashes that needed to be cleaned.

Damn her impulses to act like a drama queen in some romantic movie.


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