Beneath My Skin

'hey no we dun sell this here.. haha.. most shops usually dun carry russian brands.' the shopkeeper chuckled, almost amused by Juk's enquiry. Juk frowned and left. shld have expected it rite. how many russian brands have anyone heard of before? Yaheuh. most shopkeepers probably would ask 'What?' and would repeat the same question even if he says it again. almost unheard of. a yaheuh musical box. Juk needs it.


'no we dun have it.'

'do u know where i can get it?'

'not here.'

'if a shop happens to sell it, how much would it roughly cost?'

'cheap, hahhaa, i can tell u very cheap. that sorta brands, almost worthless ahhaha.'


worthless. so be it. Juk saw the picture of it online. an old classic wooden musical box. he wants it badly.

he had soon gone thru all the shops on the street. as expected, he had no results. he knew there was no way he could find it in the country, now that he had searched the entire street, best known for selling all sorta musical boxes available in the market.

he sensed a feeling of loss, seems like a part of himself has disappeared, and he needs to find it back, to lay his hands on the yaheuh. ever since he saw that picture 2 days ago, part of his soul had already grown too impatient, and wandered off first in search for it. not much time left, really.

he walked back all the way to the white building, face sullen. he thought there was a glimmer of hope. he thought it might be possible to find it there. perhaps the picture he saw was the closest he could ever get to. closest, yet it is still not enough. he needs to hold it in his hand and feel the weight of it on his palm. well. so what if he somehow manages to? it might not be enough. cos he would expect more to come still. he shld be satisfied, the greed of hope kills. reality is meant to disappoint, never to match the potential of realising the expectation.

enough is enough. he decided that it would be over. Juk turned the knob on the door and entered his ward. he sat on his white bed. taking the laptop from the small table beside the bed, he placed it in front of him on the bed. it took a while to start. it din take long for Juk to feel the heat of the machine on his white bedsheets. warmth. some warmth. artificial. too fake.

Juk shook his head. everything around him seems to be placed there to disappoint. he logged on to the internet and typed in the website again. he could see the beautiful description giving praise to the musical box every shopkeeper on the streets had laughed at. but the picture was no longer there. the cursor moved over to the 'refresh' button. the page was reloaded. nothing changed.

a drop of tear escaped from his right eye. a sharp pain pierced his heart. he could not control his heartbeat. all of a sudden, it seemed to go all haywire. he clutched his chest. he slipped from his bed and slumped onto the floor.

'help help!' these cries were made by those on the other beds. the doctors rushed in.

the next thing he knew, he was on his bed again. hah. still alive. he wondered how long more can he still play this cat and mouse game with Death.


'hey Juk. thank god we got in time. dun move ard too much yea? try to stay on ur bed and everything would be fine.'

'fine? wads fine? i had at most 2 mths rite? hahaha.. perhaps 2 mths would be fine.. perhaps it would be better if its shorter hahahha...'

'dun say that.. be strong k? anyway, have u got a grandson?'

'no. i m not married. u know that.'

'a small kid just asked me to pass u this. thought it was ur grandson.'


the doctor passed Juk a nicely wrapped box.


'have fun opening it. do cheer up.. i'll b off. let me know if u need anything..'

'alrite.. cya.. thanks..'


Juk smiled to himself. a grandson? a real joke if u ask him. maybe he would have a grandson if he had stayed in Russia. that was a bad thought. it suddenly brings back more memories. he tossed the box in his hand. then, he carefully peeled away the piece of paper wrapped around it. a little excitement runs in now. he opened the cardboard box. he was dumbfounded. yaheuh. he held it against his chest.

he had no control over his tears any longer. 40 years of pain.. he lied on his bed.. the memories started floating in his head. Yuri.. the musical box. the last thing he gave her before he was forced to leave. to come to this foreign land. all in hope to provide a better life for them back there. the letters never got replied after some time. when he returned, the whole house they lived in were no longer there. caught in a fire in the middle of the nite, he was told by neighbours. everything disappeared from then on. all he wanted was a better life for both of them. but he lost all that he ever wanted.

he contemplated many times to seek Death. but he knows God would condemn him and he would never ever see Yuri again. he grown all too impatient in waiting for Death's arrival. he knew he did not have to wait for long. it was about time. all the years of waiting. it is gonna come anytime now.

he hugged onto the musical box as tightly as he could.. he closed his eyes. he smiled. the heart beat again started to beat unsteadily.. faster and faster. slowed down.. faster and faster again.. faster.. too fast.. then it stopped. completely.


Yuri walked out of the hospital, holding a young boy by his hand.


'whos that old man just now, granny?'

'an old friend. dun ask so many questions. lets go home quickly. granpa's waiting.'