Goh Yu Qian, 13

School: Fairfield Methodist School (Secondary)

Topic: Describe how you feel hearing someone close, receiving a heart transplant

Award: High Distinction, Junior Category, 2023

Heartless

‘Heartless Heather’ was what everyone called me. Hurting others used to be my pride and passion. It was an exciting adventure every time I shoved or insulted a person.

The main thrill of my ventures were without a doubt my parents’ reactions. The furrowing of their eyebrows, the disgust in their voices. It was only when I misbehaved that they paid a shred of attention to me.

On a day like any other, in which I did my routine of tripping ankles and sticking gum on heads, the wrenching school day had finally come to a close. I strolled home, awaiting the chiding of my parents. Once I entered the front door, I was immediately met with unexpected sniffles and whimpers emitting from the master bedroom. I peeked through the cracks of the door to see my mother’s ghastly face cry feverishly.

“My husband entered into a coma? How is that possible, his recent heart transplant had been successful, had it not?” exclaimed my mother anxiously. My eyes widened in terror. My father had a heart transplant recently? Why was I not informed? I trembled profusely, praying for this all to be a nightmare. I clenched my fists as I dreadfully listened to the rest of the horrible news.

The next morning eventually came after a grueling night of tears and pain. My mother urged me to the hospital to visit my father after a so-called ‘minor surgery’. My heart stopped once I saw my father’s lifeless body laying incapacitated on the hospital bed. He looked like a messy science project, tubes sticking out from his limbs, wires hanging in all directions. I was in a state of pure grief. I hate feeling this way.

After the visitation with my mother, she started to care excessively for my well-being. It made me feel squeamish and annoyed once she started her daily inspections. The cringey glimmer of heartbreak in her eyes made me shudder.

“Heather, how was your day?” beamed my hypocritical mother as she waved at me. My heart ached in fury. I rolled my eyes and zoomed to my room to cry. Even now, my mother refused to tell me the truth of my father’s dwindling health. I continued to sob violently in my pillow.

“Heather, we have to go back to the hospital,” stuttered my mother as she burst through my bedroom door to haul me to the car. She was in a state of frenzy while speeding to the hospital. I was terrified of the unimaginable horrors lying ahead.

We finally arrived at the hospital, feeling panicked. My mother dragged me to the reception desk in a hurry. “Where’s my husband?” bellowed my mother in a manic state.

Colour drained out of my mother’s face after witnessing the state my father was in. She warned me not to go in, fearing that I was too young to see such things. However, I defied her words and poked my head through the window screen.

“I’m going to die soon Jenny.” I heard my father weep.

Mother shook her head violently as she embraced Father’s shriveled body in earnest. My tear ducts filled to the brim with tears once I laid eyes on Father. His tan skin was dyed alabaster white, his formerly chubby cheeks became bone dry. I could barely recognise him.

“I was a garbage Dad to Heather, please tell her I’m sorry,” sighed Father in remorse. My heart broke once I heard his words. If I fail to show my love now, I may never get the chance to again. Without a moment's wait, I sprinted through the door to hug both my parents as tight as I could.

I peered up to see my father’s face stretched into a warm smile. “I love you too, my precious daughter. I’m so sorry I neglected you.” cried my father as he placed his brittle hand on my back to reciprocate my hug.

It was then that I heard a deafening sound pierce my ears. Father was gone. My family held a quaint and cozy funeral for my father the next day. We buried Father in a sunny garden filled with lovely flowers and evergreen trees. I cried for many days. However, I eventually let him go peacefully.

My father’s death taught me to love and cherish. I had changed my heart from a bully to a girl who learnt to be kind. I can now say with confidence that I will never again be heartless.

Disclaimer: Please note that the views and opinions expressed in the essays for the Live On Festival 2023 are those of the participants and are not endorsed by the National Organ Transplant Unit (Ministry of Health). To learn more about organ donation and organ transplantation in Singapore, please visit www.liveon.gov.sg