Touched - By Sarah Kim

Written By: Sarah Kim

Category: Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Introducing "Touched," a powerful short story by Sarah Kim, featured in the Short Story category of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This evocative narrative explores themes of resilience, cultural identity, and the strength found within familial bonds. Sarah Kim weaves a tale that is both intimate and universally relatable, capturing the reader's attention with her poignant storytelling.

About the Work

"Touched" by Sarah Kim delves into a young girl's journey through adversity and her path to reclaiming her independence and voice. The narrative is rich with cultural imagery, painting a vivid picture of family dynamics and cultural celebrations. The story's mood shifts from tension to empowerment, highlighting the protagonist's resilience and the unwavering support of her family.

Touched

Original Submission by Sarah Kim

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Touched by Sarah Kim

It was just a touch.

A touch that unfolded into unwanted caress.

I took in everything. I remembered the stars being very vivid that night. They gave me solace as if supporting me, giving me the strength that I needed to pull through. My eyes were fixated on that one star – fairly larger than the others, twinkling extraordinarily eye-catching. I prayed in silence with hopes that God would answer immediately. I repeated and chanted my prayer through and through.

God did answer when an angry shout was heard.

*

12 PM. The sun was hot under her head as she finished mowing the lawn. She should have started earlier. The beads of sweat on each side of her face were falling down like Niagara Falls. Her shirt was damp with sweat with her hair dishevelled as she gathered her breath. She was not a pretty sight at all. No one was allowed to see her in this state.

“Kekwa! Hurry up! My friends will be here soon and you look like shit!” Kamil, her second brother out of three, shouted from inside the house.

“Ugh. Next time you do this shit!” Kekwa shouted back.

“You lost the bet, you do the time!”

“That doesn’t even rhyme!”

Finally finished her lawn mowing duty, she ran into the house, smacked Kamil in the back and ran into her room, locking herself inside. She needed to stay there, get cleaned and be proper when Kamil’s friends come over who were also friends with two of her other brothers younger than Kamil, Karim and Kadir. The three of them had friends that were all friendly with one another and the number of friends was not small. Dear lord, she always dreaded when her

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brothers’ friends come over to the house. The need for her to cover up was exhausting. This time, she opted to lock herself in her room and finish reading her book. No one could stop her.

“KEKWA!!!”

The roar of her mother’s voice startled her after she stepped out of the bathroom. Groaning out loud, she quickly dressed up, wore her shawl lazily and exited her room to attend to her mother. She knew what she had to do. She had to attend her brothers’ friends.

But she had enough of it.

“Ma, Kamil needs to attend to his friends when they come and that includes preparing food for them,” Kekwa expressed her frustration while preparing tea.

“Kita kan perempuan, Kekwa,” Ma breathed out – as if that justified anything. “Takdanya. Men take advantage of this. I’m going to marah abang after this.” “Don’t look for trouble, please, Kekwa,” Ma sighed out.

After the tea was placed at the living room, Kekwa stormed to Kamil’s room which was roaring with wild laughter. She knocked loud enough for them to hear over their loud laughter. The door opened and it was Kamil’s friend, Johan that appeared.

“Kamil, I need to talk to you,” Kekwa called out for her brother while maintaining eye contact with Johan who was startled to see her calling her brother by his first name instead of ‘abang.’

Kamil appeared at the door. “Your friends, your service – and that includes preparing food and drinks for them. Penat Bapak ajar tapi tak faham-faham.” Kekwa said straightforwardly.

“Mak didn’t say anything about it.”

“Of course! She loves her sons too much and then I have to carry all of your burdens and responsibilities on my shoulders. Be responsible. Please.”

Kamil slammed the door in her face.

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She was only 15 at the time.

*

Two years passed. It was Cultural Day at Kekwa’s high school and all her brothers were there to attend. It was a Saturday morning when students were arriving with families and students, dressed in cultural clothing, greeted one another happily and excitedly, giddy to witness what was in store for them and most of all, to perform in the cultural performances. The atmosphere in Dewan Mulia was bright with colours of drapes hanging overhead with decorations that represent each culture in Malaysia hung on the walls of the Dewan. People inside were finding their seats while making conversations with one another.

Kekwa’s family came – except Mak. She didn’t think it was necessary to see her daughter performing a cultural dance. Not only that, it wasn’t their cultural dance. But Bapak was excited to see his daughter dance as he had managed to witness her dance in her room in secrecy. Only Bapak knew of her secret but then he couldn’t help but boast about his daughter who clearly had talent in dancing. It was even more heart-warming to see his daughter dancing Indian traditional dance since he was the one that exposed her to Hindustan movies and he could see how she had began dancing when she was 5 in front of the TV when Mohabbatein was on.

Her three elder brothers were the victims of Bapak’s boast.

Kamil, Karim and Kadir.

All loved their one and only sister and did everything to support her even if sometimes, on the surface, it seemed as if all they did was fight and bicker with one another. But, after all, Kekwa’s their baby sister.

They’d go through hell for her – especially after what happened last year.

The Cultural Day allowed students of different races to perform different cultures to show solidarity and unity between races in Malaysia. Kekwa, being the only Malay in the Indian traditional dance, became the star of the show. She was the centre of attention along with her Indian friend, Kiran, while performing Dola Re Dola, a song performed by Madhuri Dixit and

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Aishwarya Rai in the movie Devdas and it was one of Kekwa’s favourites. She put in a lot of effort to perform it best.

She definitely deserved the standing ovation at the end of her performance.

After the performances ended, Kekwa joined her family and earned a big hearty hug from Bapak and her brothers. They were proud. Breaking away from the hug, she noticed Kamil’s change in his face when his eyes diverted from her to approaching figures behind her. She turned around and she frowned.

“Kekwa, you were amazing!” Johan praised her.

Kamil stepped forward and stood protectively next to Kekwa. “Of course. She’s always been a talented dancer.”

Johan laughed while he nudged Badrul next to him. “Brother coming to her defence – as if she doesn’t have a voice of her own.”

“I do have a voice but you wouldn’t even bother about it, Johan,” Kekwa replied bluntly.

Johan chuckled. “Sure, Kekwa. Everyone loves to hear you nag. There’s only one way to shut a girl up.”

“I think it’s best if you leave, boys,” Bapak interjected.

Johan and Badrul’s heads immediately bowed down in embarrassment, apologising under their breaths and fumbled their way out of their sight but Badrul didn’t miss the opportunity to steal a glance at Kekwa and they locked eyes. He seemed apologetic.

“Let’s go home,” Bapak announced.

Kadir held her hand protectively all the way into the car and she loosened herself from his grip in the car and told him that she’s fine. He looked at her with a frown. Kekwa sighed. It took her brothers a few months to fully trust her with her own independence again. Karim and Kamil were slowly coming to terms with things and letting things go.

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But Kadir was a little more stubborn. Partially because he felt as if he was part of the reason of what happened to Kekwa. He felt more responsible than the two. By doing that, he became protective of Kekwa – but to a certain extent, overprotective. Kekwa found it a little overbearing. She could handle herself. What was so hard for her brothers to understand that she

moved past it? Her past no longer traumatised her.

*

There were nights when the stars shone and twinkled generously and the skies were extremely clear. The air seemed a little lighter when there were little clouds and more of stars. Living in the city, Kekwa appreciated those nights where she would sneak out to the backyard with a blanket for her to lie down on the grass and a book for her to read. It wasn’t exactly sneaking out since her parents always found her there whenever they were looking for her. But they let her be. She was peculiarly unique in her own way.

It was Friday night and it just rained. The grass was moist. Kekwa was in the kitchen, finishing up her cleaning duties. It was then when Bapak called her to the living room and said he had something to show her. He led the way to the backyard and there was a gazebo set up at the side with a convertible roof that Bapak managed to build. He had always been a handy carpenter as a side hobby and he did that for his daughter. Kekwa caught sight of it and she felt over the moon. It was big enough for two people to lie down and star gaze.

She ran towards the gazebo while taking Bapak’s hand in hers and they lied down there together. She laughed when she saw a small electrical mosquito repellent that Bapak also installed. In this tropical weather, mosquitoes are always one’s worst enemy. Nonetheless, her smile never left her lips. She was too much at bliss.

“Thank you, Bapak.”

“Now, you can star gaze all you want. No one can stop you.”

There was a knock on her bedroom door and she shouted for the person to come in. “Kekwa, our friends are coming over for a sleepover,” Kadir announced.

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Kekwa groaned. “Oh, Mak and Bapak takda kat rumah, you have sleepovers ah? I thought sleepovers are for girls only.”

“Then you go have a sleepover with your friends lah. Leave the house to us.” “I’m sitting through SPM in a month’s time, abang. No time for sleepovers.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just stay in your room, then. Don’t come out unless fully covered.”

“What am I, 10?” Kekwa retorted when Kadir closed the door behind him.

Great. Mak and Bapak went back to Johor suddenly for a family matter. It was fine that she was stuck with her brothers. That was normal. But she had to deal with their friends as well – and they were a loud bunch. She had the idea to sit outside at the gazebo to study. But then, why would they stop her, anyway? It was decided.

So, she took her long cardigan, wore her loose and comfortable yellow pyjama pants and wore a shawl lazily over her head. Gathering her books and necessary items for study, she left her room quietly and went to the backyard, unseen and undetected.

Her attention span wasn’t as long-lasting as compared to when she studied with her friends. If she had known about Mak and Bapak going off to Johor, she would have invited her friends for a sleepover as well. But of course, being a girl, it’s even difficult to ask permission at the last minute. For boys, it is evident. One call and they are instantly available for a hangout or a sleepover. What an unfair world.

Anyway, after about half an hour studying Maths (not her best subject), Kekwa got up to stretch and coincidentally, her MP3 player was playing her favourite Hindi song that she knew the choreography to. Smiling, she stepped down from the gazebo and began dancing to the song happily and gracefully, unaware of her surroundings.

When the song stopped, she heard someone applauding behind her. She turned around sharply and her shawl fell onto her shoulders, exposing her hair. Kekwa thought it was either Kamil, Kadir or Karim.

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It was Badrul instead.

Clumsily, she fixed her shawl back onto her head and breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s only you,” she mumbled as she went to sit at the edge of the gazebo. “You dance great,” Badrul said simply as he approached the gazebo.

Badrul and Kekwa had always been on friendly terms. He wasn’t as loud as the others. She especially did not like Johan, the loudest and chauvinistic of them all. Whatever that came out of his mouth was poison to her ears. Badrul was different. He was quiet and only spoke when necessary. Sometimes, he would back Kekwa up if Johan crossed a line in his words. That made Kekwa comfortable with him and he seemed to be fine with that.

“I can be better. I’m not that good yet,” Kekwa said, placing her MP3 player on the stack of books behind her.

Badrul chuckled and sat next to her. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be a great dancer in the future.”

She scoffed. “You think my family would allow me to? Of course not.”

“Your father would definitely support you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, he’s my one and only supporter.”

“I’ll be the second then.” He placed his hand on hers but Kekwa immediately pulled her hand back.

“Right,” she said coolly but partially shaking at the sudden contact. “You should get back inside. I’m pretty sure the rest of them are looking for you.”

Before she knew it, Badrul was on top of her. She was stunned and paralysed. Why was it that she couldn’t move? Was she taken so much by surprise that her body decided to shut down? He didn’t stare into her eyes but his hands were exploring. His heavy breath was so loud for her to hear. She tried pushing him away but he locked her hands above her head and ignored her gasps for air.

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The sky was clear again. The stars were witnesses. She didn’t have the power to do anything. The stars twinkled and twinkled as if telling her that it was okay. It will soon be over. All the hand roaming and disgusting kisses on her neck will go away. It will stop. The heavy breathings of the filth above her will soon stop. His strong lock on her hands will soon loosen.

It will all be over.

“Badrul, what the hell?!”

She passed out.

*

Dancing helped Kekwa cope with her trauma. Ever since that, she danced fiercely and religiously. She needed to shake off what happened. Her brothers were supportive of it. They sent her to classes and even found a place for her to dance nearby the house. It took her a while to sit at the gazebo.

A place that was supposed to be a sanctuary for her became her source of pain.

She wanted to keep this between her and her brothers only. But Kamil couldn’t take it. He blurted out to Bapak when Bapak kept asking Kekwa why she didn’t go to the gazebo anymore and she couldn’t give any answer. After he blurted it out, Kekwa was still silent. Bapak went towards her and hugged her. That was when she dropped the tears she’d been holding back.

When she awoke after passing out, she was quiet and numb. She didn’t cry. Finally, she broke her dam.

Recuperating wasn’t easy but as soon as Bapak knew, she felt at ease, knowing her hero was there to provide words of comfort. Above all, she appreciated the time Mak came into her room to comfort her in private. She hugged her daughter throughout the night and as Kekwa cried, Mak shushed her lovingly and also whispered:

“I was once a victim too.”

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About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is a prestigious platform celebrating literary talents from around the world. This esteemed competition showcases diverse voices, offering writers an opportunity to share their stories and connect with a global audience.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Sarah Kim for sharing her compelling short story, "Touched," in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her work resonates with depth and empathy, reminding us of the power of resilience and family. We look forward to seeing more of her exceptional creativity in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.