Killer Litter

By DT
“Mom, I’ve finished my homework. Can I go downstairs to play?”

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly and the birds chirped their wonderfully cheerful melody. I had been longing to have some fun either catching butterflies or playing at the playground. I wondered if she would agree.

“Sure, go with your sister, but would you do some housework for me first? There are some bowls to be washed and I have other things to do,” she replied as she would when she was busy. I was reluctant but did not want to disappoint her and thus agreed.

“Who created housework? It’s so troublesome,” I muttered under my breath grumpily. I was the laziest one at home. My sister, Joan, seemed to be the exact opposite of me. Hardworking, untalkative and shy were all her distinctive characteristics.

After washing the bowls, I asked my sister if she wanted to go downstairs for some fun. She, as usual, agreed. We went down together. We walked briskly as we felt a cool breeze rushing against our fair complexion. Having a fair complexion seemed to be our only similarity.

“It feels so good to come down to play. What do you want to play?” I started the conversation, letting my one-year younger sister make the decision.

“Look! Butterflies!” her eyes sparkled with interest as she pointed with her small finger at some beautiful butterflies and followed them curiously. I was also attracted to the colourful wings of the butterflies and observed the butterflies intently. The butterflies flew around randomly and soon flew close to the soft grass beside our flat.

“Cool!” I exclaimed happily. I had never been so close to butterflies before.

“Hey! Why did you leave your smelly plants here?” an angry voice thundered.

“I want to put them here and it’s none of your business where I put my things!” another voice boomed.

My sister and I decided to ignore them and continue to observe the beauty of nature. I saw a well-built policeman patrolling on his bike. I did not care. What could interest a seven year-old kid more than a cute butterfly?

The policeman was shouting something I could not hear. It took me some time to realise the policeman was trying to tell me something.

“Watch out!” I heard a kid at the playground cry out worriedly. I glanced at her. She was pointing above me. I quickly looked upwards. I noticed a huge flower heading towards me. I let out a deafening scream that could wake the dead. Now, the flower pot was a few inches away from my head. Reflexes told me to use my hands to block the flower pot.

“THUNK!” the flower pot banged on my head. I wanted to cry out in my agony, “Aww, that hurts!”, but no sound came out of my mouth. Before I even knew it, everything went black.

I opened my eyes. Everything around me had an evil look. I caught sight of a devil. He smiled menacingly.

“Welcome to hell,” the devil said in a tone that sent shivers down my spine…

“AHH!” I screamed as I woke from my terrible nightmare.

“This is definitely not the best way to wake up,” a familiar voice spoke. I looked around and found out that I had been sent to the hospital and was with my parents, my sister, the well-built policeman and a doctor. They all looked startled by the way I woke up. I tried to move my arm to wipe off the sweat on my head but felt a sharp pain instead. I turned my head to look at my hands. Both were bandaged.

I asked, ”Is there anything on my head? I don’t feel fine about it.”

“See for yourself,” Mom said, holding a mirror in her hand.

“Oh!” I cried in shock. Two things replaced my fair complexion: A cut on my right side of my face and a bruise on the left.

“Don’t worry. Your wounds will heal in time,” the doctor assured me.

I was curious about my family members’ facial expressions, so I looked at them closely. I noticed my sister, who had not spoken. She looked as if she had seen a ghost! She must be still in shock.

After my Mom had explained to me what had happened, I thanked the policeman for sending me to the nearest hospital and also the doctor for helping me bandage my arms. Both were very modest and said that it was their duty.

“You were so lucky. You only have cuts and bruises. Other people have fractured their skull! Next time, don’t play so near a block of flats, you understand?” my mother started her “lecture”. She continued, saying I should alert at all times.

“What happened to the person who threw the flower pot down? Why did he do that?” I asked, eager to know why anyone would throw his flower pot down.

“He was quarrelling with his neighbour. He was boiling with rage and he did it rashly and had no intention of harming anyone. That was his statement to the police,” the policeman answered. “Both he and his neighbour are going to court to receive their punishment.” he continued. “They may be jailed, fined or both. Killer litter is a serious offence. Whether it is a reckless and unintentional act or not, they will be punished severely,” he concluded.

Killer litter is dangerous. That day, I learnt what killer litter could cause. From that day onwards, whenever I look into my mirror and see the scar left by the cut, it would remind me of that fateful day.