TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

A three-part short story by

Beatrice Ng
Content Page

Prologue ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 2

Chapter 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 3

Chapter 2 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 9

Chapter 3 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 15

Epilogue ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 20

1
 Just how far will you go

when desperation calls

to avoid answering at all costs because

you know picking up

marks the first day

of an unrecognizable self

in the mirror?

2
 Attn: Mummy

Intensive Care Unit, Singapore General Hospital

Block 3 Ward 2

Bed 4

3
 1

dear mummy,

i no longer know how to quantify the number of things i am desperate to tell you. i can only

measure them in the varying degrees of heartache you must have been feeling if you ever wanted

answers.

i have an abyss of shame left dwelling inside of me even after penning this letter to you, and i

would spend the rest of my remaining (un)punishable years where i am to pick up the shards of

your fragility and piece them back together.

but right here where i am, i am rendered powerless. i possess no divine-intervention abilities,

contrary to what i believed i would have.

instead, the only remotely mystical skill i possess is the ability to let desperation triumph over

my lifeless body. something i am actually really, absolutely good at.

today, desperation visited with an overload of emotional baggage.

i have not the slightest clue on how to begin, but i need you to first know that i am sorry i tried

to force my way into your life. i get by every second here shouldering the shattering weight of

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knowledge that one too many people paid the price for my willfulness and even then, feeling

guilty is a pathetic attempt at seeking forgiveness.

i was so used to hearing comforting encouragements whenever i kicked my way to your attention

that i was beyond shakened when the last ever kick i gave you was met violent responding

actions and this huge mess of foreign jarring sounds. they sounded more attention- seeking than i

ever was.

i live with every inch of detail from that night, from the very first subtle plea to stop because you

were driving, to feeling a stroke of warmth through the thin rubbles of skin and muscles in this

dome, and then i was thrown around by an unknown force. there were patterned, repetitive

sounds, too, all of them came after my final thrust forward.

everything. i remember everything.

i remembered going numb in an instant, my limbs dissociated from my developing brain cells.

that distinct moment, i felt drained for the first time in five months.

mummy, you went cold. that night, you were kidnapped and brought into an ambiguous open

space, neither here nor there.

i was unintentionally the culprit.

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before they took you away, i heard voices, loud commanding voices screaming to rush you to

many different rooms. there was one they called the ER, we spent the most time there. i had no

clue about what was happening, everything i felt seemed to spell only trouble. amidst the chaos, i

heard a voice that bellowed above all. it said:

“get doctor wong. we are saving the adult.”

when I thought about how much I wanted to meet you and daddy, this was not what I was

expecting.

i was hurled out right after, detached from you in an instant. i wanted to protest, but i cannot

even open my eyes, nor move any part of my now-darkened tiny limbs.

but i guess this was the price i had to pay for single-handedly landing you in this state.

i am sorry, if this is not enough mummy, i hope… i hope you know that i have already learnt

what missing someone feels like even before i learnt how to say it..

i snuck pass the heavily guarded borders between us on so many occasions to see you, and each

time, you laid peacefully and unperturbed, despite the irritable beeping noises that disrupt the

quietness.

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but mummy, please stop putting on this façade.

you see, it really is true when they tell you that there exists a telepathic bond between a mother

and her child, and i know, each passing day you cling on to thinner threads of hope of ever

opening your eyes again.

you are battling wars with monsters you can no longer fight, it is incredibly heart-wrenching to

watch you front internal clashings on your own.

mummy, please forgive me for rudely asking one more request from you. i can no longer bear to

watch you lose a piece of yourself everyday knowing chances of a miracle are slim to none.

it’s time to let go. come with me.

i’m begging you.

love,

your precious twinkle

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If undelivered, please return to:

Lane 1, Tampines Expressway

Spot yellow-blue Police sign at Exit 13

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 Attn: Bertram Yeo

Intensive Care Unit, Singapore General Hospital

Block 3 Ward 2

Doctor’s Office

9
 2

Dearest Bertram,

There’s nothing more in this world I want to do than to reach out and wipe away the pain

ingrained on your face. Every fleeting living moment I have, I’d feel the touch of my hands

against your unshaven chin and you’d scream at every existing God out there, crying for things

to go back to how they were.

Unfortunately, that really is as close as I can get to you.

I wish I could tell you how much I miss you too, Bert. I’ve always had, since the day I became

trapped in this dark bottomless pit I can never climb out.

I miss having unending debates with you over which Twilight movie was the cringiest. I miss

fighting over who gets to cook breakfast that day, and how we’d always end up making this

morning routine a team effort. I miss lounging around the sofa after work criticizing the terrible

acting on every free-to-air drama serials we came across, laughing at our sufferings because we

were too much of cheapskates to pay for cable.

We were cuddling on the couch when you said you’d name our daughter ‘Liz’ and make her tell

her friends it was short for ‘Lizard’.

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There are many things I want to tell you personally, and I’d start with apologizing for failing to

protect our daughter.

I am not fit to be a parent when I can’t even look after Twinkle. All I had to do was to drive

home for dinner, yet I am unbelievably appalled at myself for my incapability to complete

something as routined as that.

I didn’t keep my eyes on the wheel, and we lost her. Just like that.

But you didn’t blame me one bit. Instead, I know you’ve been spending hours on end sitting by

the lonesome chair beside me, reeking of misery. I even heard you curse at the doctor each time

he told you that my slight finger movement meant nothing close to a sign of eventual

consciousness.

I can’t begin expressing how thankful I am that you chose to spend your time around me, telling

me to open my eyes any chance you get. You forgave my wrongdoings with your

companionship, and I am incredibly touched by that.

Yet, this is killing me inside out.

I miss being around you everyday, but this was not what I wanted it to be.

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You’ve spent any moment you can cooped up in this hellhole with me, you’re even refusing to

go to work, skipping out on meals and trapping yourself in obscurity.

Bert, it’s getting really tough.

Every moment I get to breathe, I can hear you blaming everyone for the situation we’re both in

and how it’s unfair that life chose to turn out this way.

Whatever happened to you? That human being who wouldn’t dare call out anyone’s

wrongdoings even if it meant having to bear the consequences yourself because you know every

fault came with a story only you seemed to be able to understand.

Remember?

Because I don’t know the haggard, lifeless body in front of me anymore.

On top of that, I’m using my last drop of energy everyday to fight my conscious demons, before

sinking back and realizing that I have the shorter end of the stick.

I always have been on the losing end.

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I’m trying my best everyday to accede your demands by waking up. I really am.

But I’m really exhausted.

Twinkle appeared in my dreams yesterday, telling me to go with her. It’s a sign, isn’t it? She

knows everything. I am extremely tempted because you see, you’ve always known me to take

any opportunities for an easier way out. I don’t think I can hold on any longer than this, we’re

both going to suffer till no end.

So please let me go Bertram, I’ve completely depleted my willpower to carry on.

Please let go of this this unforgivable trash who’s not fit to call herself your wife. If a next life

exists, if you allow me to, I promise to be the more loving partner. I’d sacrifice anything for you,

and only you. I know we’ll meet again, someday, somewhere, somehow.

But until then, you need to know that you can only free yourself when you free me.

I love you. More than you know.

Always,

Kelsie

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If found, please return to:

Where you probably picked this up from.

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 Attn: Oizys

Level 18, Deep Down Under

PO Box 666

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 3

Hey.

We meet again.

I thought I was meticulous when I cleared out every single trace of you ever being in my life just

mere three years ago.

So how dare you have the audacity to find such an opportunity to barge in as uninvited as

always?

Are you mocking me now? You must’ve been waiting to see me in this state since the last time I

forcefully shoved you out and pretended you never tormented me. I see, this must be your

attempt at getting back at me huh?

Well, newsflash. It’s working.

I get it, I admit, that was a grand comeback I was not expecting.

I was not expecting the conquest to end in such a short span of time with such high stakes. I was

unarmed, and you took that as a clear call that I volunteered to be your victim again. You took

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away two other people who mattered most in my life after my parents with the same modus

operandi just to tell me you were here, and I blame my lack of masculinity to fight back and

stand back up on my two feet.

You daunted me with Twinkle, and I should’ve realized that there was going to be a bigger

showdown between the both of us. And I was stupid enough to fall into the traps you’ve set

again.

Isn’t this such a comedic scene? I’ve heard things like you thrive on repeated successes from

testing out the same torture method on your old victims, hoping it’ll garner the same reaction.

Congratulations then, your test results are consistent.

Your gift of loneliness thanking me for being a lab rat in your experiment is too much to handle.

I concede. I have nothing left for you to take anymore.

Telling you I’m extremely drained is a too much of an understatement, because besides an

empty shell of a body, I don’t know what else resides within me. But you can never empathise

even if I asked you to spare me.

I’m done.

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At least right where I am now. I’m a weasel who’s no match for your prowess. You can have this

body to manipulate for as long as you muse.

I will choose to fight you again only where all my loved ones are.

Till then.

For the last time,

Bertram

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If found, please burn this in front of:

Blk 174A Edgedale Plains

#11-153

S’pore 821174

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 In time, our subconsciousness

will race through the wind

to warn us about our seemingly apt decision

facing off our demons, but

more often than not, they will always be

one step too late.

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