A friend of mine requested me to review her work, before I review it. Let me share it with you. I am not sure if she wants this shared, nevertheless, here it go. The title of the work is called Ophelia's Strain. This work an example of an egotistical sublime. Egotistical sublime is a style where the author puts part of their psyche into their work. I changed her real name to how we call her. I hope you enjoy this story and I hope I do justice to the review.
OPHELIA’S STRAIN
by Ouine
The Homecoming
“Beatrice Alexandria! My! THIS is unexpected?”
I rolled my eyes, shook my head and smirked at Yaya Caring’s greeting as she opened the enormous, steel front gate.
“Am I not even welcomed at my own house?” I scowled at Yaya Caring as I stepped into the ancestral home I once taken for granted.
“Hang on tiger, I meant nothing ill about that!” Yaya Caring said defensively, as she held both her hands up in front of her, that her plump fingers were enough to protect her from me. “It’s just so funny how you’ve always told me that you wanted to leave this place, and now all of sudden you’re here? What happened to the ‘conjugal haven’ you and Dave are sharing?”
“Don’t use that word, Yaya,” I told her as I picked up my bag and slumped it on my right shoulder, “It stings my ears!”
“Which one, ‘conjugal’ or ‘Dave?’”
I shook my head, stormed passed her, as she continued to call after me. “What happened to you and Dave? Did you two have a fight or something? You two were always inseparable!” I stopped dead in my tracks. That was then, this is now! I wanted to scream back, instead, I dropped my head, clenched my free hand into a tight fist and without looking at her, I warned her in a low voice, “Don’t start with me. You know what happens when I’m not in the mood.”
Fuming inside, I continued to stomp my way across the manicured lawn that my Abu kept tidy during her Sunday visits. “Hey, Alex! The lawn!” Yaya Caring reminded in a tender tone. “You know how your Abu would have a fit, if she sees that the greens have been messed-up!”
I stopped for a moment, shook my head and then continued trudging towards our house.
“Isn’t it too early for Halloween?” I said as I entered the front door of our split-level house. “Ate Alex!”
Clackety, Clackety, Clackety, went the sound of the heel of Dawn’s leather boots against the marble floor, as she bounced her way towards my direction. How she did that is not a mystery anymore. Considering her petite frame, and the fact that she practically had been wearing boots since she discovered them, Dawn can do cartwheels in them for all she cares. In fact, she has been doing a lot of things that everybody in the family has learned to reluctantly accept, such as her Wiccan-inspired wardrobe and weird hairstyle (long bangs with white and red streaks, with a shaven part behind her left ear).
“So, have you decided you’d do it?” she asked me earnestly.
“That’s actually one of the things I need to talked to her about.” I told my younger sister.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Dawn asked. “Is this something to do with Dave? I’ve heard Itay and Inay saying you’re staying over? What gives?”
I raised one eyebrow and glared at Dawn that told her that this is not one of those days that I want to answer her 20-questions. My mind had been convoluted with ideas these past nights, that I have no plans of talking about my turmoil – not yet anyway.
“What do you know so far?”
“Nothing…much, really” Dawn said, as she shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the front door. As she reached for the knob, she faced me and said.
“I just overheard Itay and Inay talking about you and Dave having some glitches and that you’re coming over to stay for a few days.”
“Do any of you know EXACTLY the cause of this dissension?” I asked in alarm.
“Neither Eli and I knows what’s going on, Eli, especially.” Dawn said. “He seems to be living on some distant planet far from Earth. I swear he’ll be coming out of the closet pretty soon if he continues to do theater.”
“You’re stereotyping, you know that,” I pointed out then sighed, “Well, at least he does not have a flat personality like me. Let’s give him credit for that.”
“You’re not flat Ate, you’ve got talent!” Dawn assured me. “Mine is in Visual Arts and drums. Eli is in Performing Arts and guitar, while you, you have Inay’s knack for writing.”
“I m sorry but I don’t share your optimism,” I confessed, “nor do I have the heart to do the biography.”
“But it’s for Inay,” Dawn reasoned.
“You promised! A lot of people are expecting you to write it! Don’t worry I’m with you. If you’re scared about criticisms, I’m here. We’ll be both criticized for it. We’re both her daughters and we’re both part of the project. The only difference is that I do the photo stills while you do the writing. I cannot promise that I’m the best but I know I will do my best. Come on, Ate. You can’t back out now. Why are you turning everybody down? First Dave, now Inay…
“I’m not…hey, what do you mean by…who…Dawn…you said…”
“Uhmm…I have to go to the bookstore to buy some Art materials. Bye!”
And before I could say, will-o-wisp, Dawn was gone.
Time must have flown so fast, since the time I spoke with Dawn. I found myself in the backyard tree house rummaging my treasure chest filled with childhood playthings searching for something, until I found it…and she also found me.
Pandora’s Box
I saw her crying at the tree house where her childhood dreams once found its home. She held my wedding gown in her arms, cradling it like it was her baby that lost ITS life. Then again I was not far from the truth.
My Alex, my eldest, was kneeling on the tree house’s floor, were all her sentimental mementos from her dusty, but well-kept wooden trunk were strewn all over the place. She was in her own private reverie when I arrived. Knowing what had transpired the past few days in her life, the sight was unbearable seeing her in such a miserable state.
The childhood tree house seemed so cramped now, compared to the last time I was there – the time I yearned to see Alex back, the first night she left the house and tried to have her independence. I wanted my baby back, but not like this, not in this state.
Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she took my hand for me to bless it. “Nostalgia…” she said with a half-smile, Alex turned her back from me and began clearing out her mess. I remember when she was about fourteen when she pranced across the sala holding my wedding gown and telling my husband and I that she met the person she wanted to be with the rest of her life – and 14 years later, she refused to fulfill that dream to the same boy who now grew-up.
“Fairy tales,” she said, as if reading my mind. “He told you didn’t he?
“Yes,” I told her as I looked down on the floor. “He went here the night he proposed to you and the same night you turned him down,” I began. “I don’t understand, Alex. What irreconcilable differences were you talking about?”
“How the fire spreads fast,” Alex said rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Turning her back from me. “He just can’t keep his mouth shut even just for awhile.”
“Well, it’s a natural course for him to take, considering he asked me and your dad permission to marry you,” I told her. “That was the day before he bought your engagement ring and the week before he proposed to you. It seems natural for him to tell your father and I what happened.
“Alex, you’ve known each other since you were fourteen and you even told me, yourself, at that very young age that he IS the one for you,” I reminded her. “You knew! From the moment you meant him, that he is the right one for you! Now that the opportunity presented itself you’re backing out? Why?”
“Ahhh, one of the mysteries world,” she told me as she threw her arms in the air, “I don’t know, maybe I’m just the anti-bride type of woman I guess. Maybe I’m just not prepared.”
“Not prepared?” I asked incredulously. “You are a Manager in our family’s thriving Events Planning Company. You’re twenty-eight and have finished your studies. What are you scared of?”
“You know what, don’t give me that ‘holier than thou’ attitude,” her voice began to rise. “I’m just starting my life, having my own freedom so, please, please don’t try to tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“What are you talking about?” I know there was more to this, and before I could stop myself, I continued to prod the vulnerable, fragile and invisible shell, she was protecting herself with. “What are you scared of? Where is this fear coming from?”
“All my life, you enrolled me to different schools from ballet, to jazz classes, to Art and to god knows what,” she began her litany. “And for what? What had this brought me? Misery! Misery knowing that you have to shove right to my face, that I am as ordinary as the girl next door and far from my ever talented and famous mother!”
“I know I’ve been a disappointment to you and to everyone from the moment I was born,” she continued, “I know I never surmounted into anything artistic and intellectual unlike my two siblings or my cousins. All my life I’m left with knowing I’ve always failed all of you, and am nothing but a mediocre reproduction of you that even the title of being your shadow is something I don’t deserve. That being said, I refuse to do your biography, find some other writer. And to hell with Dave, let him find another wife!
“I love Dave, don’t get me wrong,” she continued. “And who wouldn’t want to have children with him. But I’m scared of a commitment that I may not be able to fulfill in the very end because I’ve always been not good enough. I’ve been living with Dave yes, but at least there are no strings that are too attached that would make me ruin his life and our children in the end.”
“Why are you saying this,” I asked her. “I never expected anything from you. I enrolled you to different classes for you to find yourself and not to fulfill my dreams. My only dream for you is that you find yours before it is too late. I gave you the opportunities I never had when I was young but I never forced you to continue something you don’t want to do.
“I wanted you to do my biography not to show off but because I know you could do it and I wanted you to finally use your literary wings and fly. But besides that, I wanted you to know that I too can bleed and that I’m also hopelessly flawed. I care what you only think of yourself because for me you and your siblings will always be greatness in my eyes. I gave you names - Beatrice Alexandria, Dawn Ekaterina, and Ethan Eleassar to show the grandeur and beauty of your souls. A tough act maybe but I as a mother I simply know that from the moment each of you were born you’re the best miracles of my life – no matter what.
“Don’t marry Dave, Alex,” I told her as I cupped my hands under her face now brimming with tears. “If you don’t love him. But do not refuse if you’re only reason is that you think you don’t deserve him. Alex, he loves and chose you that way you love and chose him that afternoon you held this wedding gown. Do not be afraid. You deserve to be happy.”
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I just finished watching the Harry Potter Movie at SM IMAX. Its the new IMAX and I must say, I was giddy with excitement. I woke early (earlier for me than usual, 11am) and rushed to SM. When I arrived, there is already a line at the IMAX lane and there is no guarantee that I would be able to watch the movie at IMAX since surely there are reservations made for the movie. When I was at the front of the line, the cashier told me that the next screening is already sold-out, the next after that is not. Then, I saw the seats left. Front seats are for those who want to strain their necks. The next screening was at 8:25 pm and as I scan the seats, lo and behold, there is a seat at the last row. Perfect! I said to myself, sometimes it pays to be alone watching movies at this type of cinema. I paid the cashier and since I was giddy with excitement, I decided to while 8 hours of my time at SM. 
