FIRST PLACE
BY JIA LIU
IMAGE BY Rafael Cerqueira
Clean, clean, clean. That was all she did—day and night—wiping away at the grime that seeped through the cracks of her apartment, and then resting, long enough for the walls to start dripping again. She was never a fixer. Her mother hadn’t been much of one either; their home was always in disarray, the lightbulbs burnt out, the dishwasher broken, the nails on the walls coming loose.
“I’ll tidy it up,” her mother used to say. “It’ll all be better. You just watch.” And never was a child more attentive, watching carefully as her pale hands fell into a soft rhythm.
Dip. Twist. Wipe. Over and over, she wiped down the floors, the walls, the windows, the mirrors. But the sockets were still stuffed with cotton. The rafters were still broken. The holes in the drywall were never filled, and never lonely, joining an ever-growing collection. There was more broken glass on the kitchen floor than dust.
“You must learn to fix these things, okay?” The question seemed odd to pose to a child, but she nodded, despite not quite knowing what she was agreeing to. Her mother would smile sadly, then go right back to cleaning.
She couldn’t help but think she’s let her mother down, now. Wiping vigorously at the muddy tiles, she wondered if her mother had always known what fate awaited her daughter, if she just didn’t want to accept it. But they were good at cleaning, mother and daughter. Not so much at fixing.
Jia Liu's, The Butterfiles, received first place in the BCPW’s Flash Fiction contest. Liu attends Craig Kielburger Secondary School in Milton, ON.