1000 words

Nazirah Ahmad
18 (age on June 30, 2014)
naziera62af@gmail.com
30, Jalan PP 2/22, Taman Putra Perdana, 47130 Puchong, Selangor, Malaysia.
+601115756988
3 AM

3 AM
by Nazirah Ahmad

I think I have John Green to thank for the popping light bulb of this. Ive spent four
days of April, thirty-one days of May and twenty-six days of June thinking of what to write
and I almost came to a frustrating thought of letting this one go.
But at 3 AM, on the 27th of June, where it is 12 hours earlier than where John Green
came from, I was lying on my bed trying to get a sleep. I dont really know what time the
sleep hour is in other places on the other side of the world, but here in the land of nasi lemak,
durian and the other twin towers, if you go to sleep at 3 AM, youd better not go to sleep at
all. I was tossing and turning for quite a while yet I found myself unable to close my eyes.
And it was getting puffy my eyes, because of the tears of watching a Thailand movie called
A Little Thing Called Love. What a movie, I must say.
I closed my eyes, only to open them again. The first sight that came to my eyes was
the sight of my favourite books on the shelf. And then it hit me, my eyes went straight to the
spines of Looking for Alaska. And that famous quote popped up in my mind.
Im in love with cities Ive never been to and people Ive never met.
I guessed I went straight up and switched my laptop on because the next thing I knew
was that I was already writing up until this sentence.
Ever since I started writing; that is when I was twelve, I never came up with any good
one. I tried writing a book, well, actually quite a few; but I left it all halfway through. I wrote
poems but they never rhyme well. Maybe Im not very good at writing fictions, or maybe Im
a shitty writer afterall.
Oh well that wasnt what I intended to be the plot of this story. This story is about a
dream. It may sound lame for a theme of a short story writing competition, but I think Im
done with trying to live up the characters and the stories I have in mind, because they dont
really come out well in sentences. Sometimes, I feel like maybe, I should stop this.

But I have this one dream that started way back when I was twelve. Maybe even
before that. I enjoyed High School Musical very much at that time. And I really loved the
idea of being there, on the other side of the world. I think my twelve-year-old self realized
then, that I didnt actually belong here.
I love the four weathers, but all we have here is sunny, mostly cloudy, heavy
rain and thunderstorms. I love speaking in the language Vanessa Hudgens speaks in, but
people here regard that as different, and sometimes, showing off. We have a nickname for a
Malay-born like me who speaks English in daily life, and it is a very nasty nickname.
At fifteen, a friend of mine suggested me a song called Save You Tonight by a boy
band called One Direction. I fell in love with the voices, and I began to look them up on the
Internet. I began to know their names, where they came from, what songs they sang during
their auditions and basically I just began to love the idea of their existence.
That was when my fifteen-year-old self realized that, I want to leave this place.
I love red phone booths, but all we have here is vandalized public phones that the
council thinks cost too much to be repaired again and again. I love being able to cycle on the
road, but the roads here are either too packed of cars, or too deserted of lanes.
Soon I graduated from high school, well, quite remarkably. I was offered a full
scholarship to pursue a degree in Chemical Engineering in Canada.
My seventeen-year-old self realized then, that theres always a way if you have the
will to work for it.
One night, my mother broke down. I guess she was just too tired of everything. It has
been three years since my father went jobless. And things arent going well lately. It has been
too long since my father was able to put food on our table, because my mother has been the
one doing that. It has been too long since this family had good meal, or good new clothes.
In seven days, Im going to college for my preparatory studies. This morning, I got a
call from my father. He was at work at that time. Is everything ready? he asked.
I told him that most the important listed things were ready. All that was left were the
toiletries and some skin care.
My fathers voice gradually descended, Im sorry. I couldnt help buying your
college stuff, I couldnt give you anything right now. I really, dont have, anything.
I said it was fine and then there was a silence before he hung up.
Then I broke down.
Eighteen-year-old me finally realized that there are so many other things than tragic
first love to cry about.

I performed my prayer, asking God to give my father the strength to work harder to
feed our family; my mother the patience to stay by his, and our side; my sisters the wisdom to
understand that things arent going to be the way they were before; and myself for the will to
struggle hard to change the state my family is living in.
Bear it for a while, mother. Just a while, father. Im going to study hard and get a
great job and make a lot of money. Then Ill come back for you and bring you out of here.
And were going to have a better life. Better than this.