Author S. K. Nicholas

One of my first memories is looking out the living room window wearing a nappy and nothing else. It was so warm, so warm that I can still feel the beads of sweat dripping down my forehead even now. Outside, I vividly remember a cat, a ginger one, jumping in and out of the snow that blanketed our garden. There was a show playing on TV as well, ‘Fraggle Rock’, I think. These moments are gone, but the taste of burnt toast is still there, as is the loneliness of being an only child. England in the eighties- a feast of dreams and fantasies involving Lego and colouring books. Transformers. Ninja Turtles. Watching ‘The Snowman’ all year round and being tainted by its tale of love and loss- not a bad thing, though, for it made me value the beauty of the here and now. The second house I ever lived in, ‘Northview’- I don’t remember the number, but I recall the patterned carpet on the stairs, and how one Christmas I opened my presents before my parents woke up. Images of a choo-choo-train fill my mind along with wrapping paper scattered all over the floor. Then there was my old dog, Penny. A Border Collie. There are photos of us together; her by my side, protecting me, entertaining my childish whims. I vaguely remember the night she ran away not long after we moved house. There was a storm, and the fence blew down. She ran into the night and never came back. And then her replacement, Monty. I was eighteen when he died. My best friend of so many years, here one minute, gone the next. I never even had the chance to say goodbye as he was put to sleep while I was at college for the day. Sometimes, I remember the games we used to play, but it’s difficult because they leave me cold. Everything that has ever made me happy leaves me cold. Places. Faces. Lovers. To feel is so joyful, but in the end, you always lose. The ones you love die, and the moments you cherish fade like newspapers. To acknowledge the despair and to fight death by outliving it- this is my aim. Immortality through creation; to live forever by planting the seeds that will see us breathe for centuries. All our footsteps, and all our feelings, not left to wither, but to be celebrated. To be glorified with every ounce of commitment we can muster. We do this not because we want to, but because we have to. We often destroy ourselves in trying to replicate the sensations we felt as children; those glorious days when tomorrow was merely a speck in the distance. Those days of sanctuary when the future was a word we’d never even heard of. We can bury our heads in the sand, or we can make a stand. To live even after death; that’s what drives me. What pushes me to create; to write day after day. I’m trying to reach you even though time and space separate us so cruelly. I want to shine like the stars, and I want to shine in your eyes.