Hazia’s Reflections

‘One way to get close & know your characters is to look within your own heart, at the different facets of your personality. You probably won’t know your characters until weeks or months after you’ve started working with them…,’ said Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird.

The above is starting to make sense. I need to re-visit my characters after a while. When my instructor first asked me to try and re-write ‘Water Warriors’ from the school rebel’s point of view, I thought it was tough. I wasn’t even close to being one in school. As I started working on it, I realised that the main character, Budi, is finally coming alive… and now claiming the story as his, just the way it should be:) It is quite similar to what happened to Ratana in Nose Job.

Water Warriors - 2nd Cut

It took my protégée six good months to sum up enough courage to come and see me. He finally set foot in the prison’s visitors’ room that morning. His face looked haggard; his expression was clouded by confusion and guilt. He might as well take his own sweet time, I was not going anywhere. Behind bars was where I’d be till the day my life ended.

He and I, we had a plan. We would grab the valuables and vacate the jewellery shop soon after. We had done that kind of work before, smoothly and successfully so. It was only 9.30am, most of the outlets at the shopping complex were not yet opened. We knew that the two petite girls at Ming Jewels always came in early. They would mop the floor, clean the glass doors and transfer the stock from the safe box to the display cases. Over our two-week observation, we also noted that the security guard often arrived 20 minutes later. There was more than enough time for us to complete our mission.

We wasted no time to point out our guns to the terrified girls and force them to hand over the cash float and jewellery. In fact, we were about to flee when someone walked in. Caught off guard, my comrade shot him in the chest a few times. Blood gushed out of his body. He fell to the floor.

“No!” I dashed towards the man.

“Bro, let’s go!” My comrade yelled at me.

It was as if I did not hear him. I kneeled down next to the man. The smell of the familiar warm red liquid filled my nostrils.

He shouted again, “Budi! Come on, before the police get here!”

I shook the man listless body and started to sob.

“Budi!” He gave me one last look, hesitated for a second and then, ran off with the bags.

When the police arrived much later, they handcuffed me and took me away. I did not even bother to struggle. The man was dead, he died on the spot. My blood brother killed him…

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