Never Been Loved

Carnival: One-shot

2009-11-11T19:58:00.003+08:00

"Stop it," she muttered. Her voice echoed around the room, sounding oddly distorted, just like the images in the mirrors - rippling, curling like tendrils of mist, reaching out to wound themselves around Erica's heart. She felt squeezed, as if someone was trying to blend an orange but none of the juice would come out. Hollow, inadequate.

Cackling laughter burst out in the room. Erica turned, but saw the same image on the mirror before her. Wherever she swerved, the same image was reflected. Over and over again; a torture weapon.

"Stop it." Her voice was firm now, steady, the calm before the storm. The laughter got louder, reverberating, making Erica shake with claustrophobia. She fell to her knees and covered her ears with her hands as the laughter continued: mad and uninterrupted.

"Stop it! Stop whatever you're doing!" Again and again she shouted, but the laughter only got louder, more insane, harder to block out. Erica teared up and all the muscles in her body contracted. If she could only put a stop to the laughing, put a stop to the person behind the mirrors...

"I said STOP IT! DON'T DO IT! DON'T HURT HIM!" She had suddenly leapt up to her feet and bounded to the nearest mirror in front of her, where she'd seen the shadowy image of a person with a ponytail wielding a weapon, pressing the sharp blade of the knife against his throat. Droplets of blood dripped onto the floor. Drip, drip drip. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Erica screamed. She screamed her throat raw, until she could scream no more. She yelled and yelled, shrieked like a madman; she felt trapped, trapped in the enfolds of her mind and in the air in this room.

"LET GO OF HIM! DON'T KILL HIM! PLEASE STOP IT!" Erica shouted till the words she were shouting blurred and made no sense, no sense at all. The laughter rang in her ears, the images swam in her eyes, the chill of the murder contaminating her skin... these she would remember for beyond the length of her life. She backed away from the mirror until she backed up against another one, one that bore the same twisted picture, the same twisted, cold-blooded murderer.

"JUST STOP! PLEASE!! Please!" Her sobs filled the room, making her feel small and pathetic as a flightless bird. She carried on and on, weeping amidst the laughing, amidst the dripping of the blood... until a voice, a rasp, sounded itself. Erica paused to listen, her eyes red and puffy, swelling painfully.

"Erica... help me." It, as everything else, repeated itself, enlarged and magnified its sound so that it reached Erica's ear and blasted apart her whole heart into filthy pieces. Filthy, because she'd given up hope so easily, so quickly. Filthy, because she'd submitted to the will of the murderer, like prey to predator. But filthy it will be no more, because Erica's will strengthened, resolved, enlarged and magnified like all the other gruesome sounds in the metal room. It was fine if she died at the murderer's hand. It would be a noble death, a noble death for love and a courageous, heroic exit from the world at large. There was nothing to be afraid of: she couldn't escape from here, and even if she managed to, this memory would haunt her. There was nothing else to live for. It was now or never.

"ARGHHHHH!!!!" And as Erica charged, as Erica smashed through the glass encasing of the enchanted mirror, she came face to face with the murderer - Terry, the librarian. She paused in effect for shock, and turned to Aaron, the one man she was dying for.

And through a clash of metal on metal, screeches and screams, and the blazing trail of silver that caused pain to Erica's midriff like she'd never known before, two bodies dropped dead on the floor, pierced by one knife, dead by one hand, and entwined as one on the floor, backstage of the carnival.

Yells of torture escaped slowly from the world, "No! Erica! Please, stop! Kill me! Kill me instead, kill me NOW!"
This was how Aaron lived to tell the story, today...

The Descendants

2009-10-08T13:59:00.002+08:00

Sorry that I haven't been posting much recently. Finals are here and I've been revising HARD. One of the downsides of being a student. :( But anyway, I think there is technical fault with Blogger - I can't copy and paste anything on here. I was going to feed you guys a 'on-microsoft-word-15-page-7000-word-churnout' but I can't put it in the box. I'm sorry for that.

I think I'll try posting again another time, in maybe a few months. Do excuse me. I haven't gotten down to writing much and those that I have written I can't post. But if you would like to view some writing samples, do go to: http://www.youtube.com/bookofathousandwords That's my official 'albeit-little-bit-secretive' youtube account where I, following the surge of teenage hormones, post jobromances (Jonas Brothers Fanfictions) up regularly.

Thanks so much. :)

The Broken Circle Prologue Draft #2

2009-07-17T18:34:00.000+08:00

I’m running through the cold, wintry air that burned into my skin. My limbs and joints are numb, and the biting wind grazes my cheeks. My frosty legs are aching madly, but I keep putting one foot forward, throwing myself into the race. It was a race against myself, against what I felt.
The tears froze in my eyes; I was unwilling to let them drop. What was the use? Nothing could make things better – nothing. Suddenly, I was sprinting through a deep, dark tunnel, the blackness threatening to engulf my whole. I felt claustrophobic, suffocated in this space. I couldn’t breathe, but I kept on moving. It was the only way to keep me sane.
A sharp decline tugged at my body and soon, I was sliding on my pair of torn, faded jeans. Sliding down and down into empty space, not knowing where I was going, what would happen to me. The enclosed cave-like walls whirred past me; the wind howled loudly in my ears; my heart kept beating and beating…
Landing on my denim-clad bottoms, I looked around me and slowly stood up. I tried to take in the rest of my surroundings, but I couldn’t. Everything else was just a blur, except for the one right in front of me. My skin prickled and I felt warm again, tingles shooting up my back and straightening my spine. What was happening?
Why had I been running this race all the while, if only to meet the one person I was running away from? Yet, my heart sent little flutters that unwillingly rumbled my chest. My frame shook under my emotions – they were so powerful, so uncontrollable. I was almost scared of it. It seemed as if my entire being had melted into the sight of him.
Those chocolate-brown eyes, dark black hair, that intense gaze that made him look like an otherworldly creature… I couldn’t look away, but I couldn’t stand the pain of seeing his beauty. It was a phenomenon, being trapped in my own body without having control over my soul. Fantasy and horror molded into one, confusing me and my thoughts.
Nothing came to mind. What should I do? Where can I run? Could I run? Questions floated about in my head, passing by too rapidly for answers to appear. If they could appear out of thin air, but they couldn’t. I didn’t suppose they could. Because everything scattered in infinite directions when he took a step closer to me.
My breathing quickened, my palms turned clammy and my pulse raced. He couldn’t possibly be doing this to me, and yet he was. We were so close now our bodies were almost touching. He reached down to take my hand, his eyes holding mine all the while, and then his lips moved. The most beautiful, delicate sound flowed out of his mouth, like the best music in my ears.
“Kathy, I…” It was then that my hearing drifted away. I frowned. I couldn’t tell if he had been saying my three most treasured words, and this frustration nagged at me. He’d been so close. What happened? And then he started melting away; my vision turned black. Slowly, slowly… the agony of it all burned me.
I was left in the blinding darkness. He was no longer there; I could no longer see. I wanted to scream, kick, fight, pull, shout, yell, shriek! But no sound escaped. I was trapped in the realms of my own mind and nothing could get me out. I was stuck in this black abyss forever…
I woke up, thrashing and screaming in my bed. The sheets were all tangled up between my legs and my arms were flying about. As soon as I realized where I was, I quickly became quiet, taking deep, calming breaths. I hated this nightmare. I’d been having it for slightly over a week now, and I hated it with all my guts.
It reminded me of him, and I was traumatized by the fact that he was just slightly out of reach when I’d lost him. I never wanted to lose him; he was the one who disappeared from me. I clamped my eyelids tightly together, pushing away the remnants of my sleepless night, and of him. I wasn’t supposed to think of it, and I would not.
Reaching over to my bedside table, I brought a glass of water to my lips and took a long, unwinding gulp. Warmth flooded back into my system and I smiled. It felt good to be in charge of myself again. I liked having control over me. It soothed my nerves. I got out from under my thick, magenta blankets and off my cream-coloured bed sheets.
I walked over to my wardrobe. I didn’t really have anything on today, so I just grabbed a pair of faded jeans and a purple shirt with the rainbow peace sign. As soon as the hot water hit my back, I relaxed my tense shoulders. All this stress was taking a huge toll on my neck and upper torso; it was just so hard to ignore the pressure of life.
I washed down the fruity shampoo and soap and stepped out of the shower, toweling my hair furiously. I tangled through it with a comb and then ran my condition-slathered fingers up and down the dark brown mob. A spray of my favourite strawberry perfume and a thick coat of gloss later, I walked down the steps of my house’s marble staircase with the wrought iron railing.
My family was already up, watching True Blood – the latest vampire TV show – on HBO. The visual effects were stunning on our new LED Samsung 32” plasma screen, and the low bass blared through our high-definition speakers. They left a mess of breakfast plates on the dining table and I sighed.
Seating myself at the wooden rectangular table covered with a frosted glass top, I dug into my cereal with cold goat’s milk. My ears listened to the hushed voices of the vampires, my mouth concentrated on swallowing the chewed up food, but my mind was wandering into forbidden places.
I’d disallowed myself from thinking about him. My stone heart had been hardened during the time that passed between us. I’d vowed I’d never hurt myself like that again; I would bleed no more when a cut showed up. And yet, here I was, eating the cereal that was mixed in tears of anguish.
My tears. I blinked, swiped at my wet, streaked face and stood up. The chair scraped against the wooden floor noisily. Sweeping up my half-finished bowl and the other empty bowls littered around, I brought them all into the kitchen. I marched in with my whole army of clanging crockery and set them in the stainless-steel sink.
While cleaning up, I tried my best to keep my mind contained. I knew I couldn’t think about anything related to him, and since just about everything did, I tried to stop thinking at all. Instead, I focused on rinsing, soaping, washing, drying and then arranging. My body moved mechanically and, to my dismay, so did my mind.
I just couldn’t help it. I used to be able to ignore everything I was feeling; shove them all into some compartments in my brain and lock it in there. But it appeared as though everything was tumbling right out, accompanied with a mindless gut-wrenching feeling. Tingles started at the pit of my stomach and ran all the way up my spine and nesting at the back of my neck.
I shivered. These weren’t good tingles – they were bad. They reminded me of the times when something horrific had happened to the people I loved. It was this gut feeling of loss, as if my body knew what was coming before I did. I hated feeling this way, but I couldn’t control it. Call it some sort of sixth sense, but I ignored it all the same.
Just then, somebody shuffled into the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts, but not the feelings. I wasn’t sure who it was, so I kept my lips pursed together, drying the last bowl in the sink, when a hand pressed down gently into my shoulder. I didn’t bother craning my neck to turn around and see who it was.
After placing the green plastic bowl carefully at its allotted place, I slowly angled myself to see the person behind. “Mum?” I greeted, sounding more like a question. In actual fact, it probably was a question, albeit an instinctive one. Her eyes were watery and her shoulders slumped over her, limp. It reminded me of a certain lifeless form…
One foot went in front of the other and I was soon leading my mother out to sit on the burgundy leather couch. The television program had been paused and everybody turned to look at me. Those terrible tingles grew greater and now felt more like monkeys, leaping through the jungles, jumping from tree to tree, hanging from different emotions all at one time.
“Sit,” my dad gestured to the foot stool. I quickly grabbed it and sat. “What’s going on?” My family exchanged frightening glances at each other and I gulped. What was this bad news that everybody knew except me?
“Honey, the Martinez family are in a little bit of trouble,” my father started, his voice running low and deep. It felt as if I was on a reality TV show in slow-mo, everything just flying past me. “And…?” I urged him to continue, although I didn’t really want him to.
“And we need to help them. I know you might not agree to this when you know the full story, but you’ve got to hear me out-” I interrupted him and screeched irritatingly. “Just what is going on?!” My voice trembled a little and then annoyed me even more. My father sighed and put his head in his hands, his fingers massaging his forehead. My mother looked strangled and pale, and my sister shook when she opened her mouth to speak.
“Kathy,” she took a deep breath, “Alex is in the hospital. It’s a life-threatening situation and he might die anytime. The Martinez’s need our support right now.” Time definitely stopped them. I could no longer hear the words my sister uttered, or the shallow breathing of my parents. Nothing could outweigh the torture of the fact that my nightmare had come true. He was slipping away from me right there and then, all over again, and there was nothing I could do now to stop it.

--The Broken Circle; Prologue 2

The Broken Circle Prologue Draft #1

2009-07-11T14:27:00.001+08:00

A new story called The Broken Circle Prologue Draft Entry #1. Do send back comments and opinions if I need any edits whatsoever: amandaliaw@hotmail.com. Thanks! :)

THE BROKEN CIRCLE
Prologue
I opened my eyes to, once again, stare at the ceiling above me which was covered in glitter stars. I’d been doing this for the past three hours now, but honestly, it wasn’t getting any better. How could just one guy do this to me?
Turning over onto my right, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, which read: 5:33AM. I sighed. I wanted morning to come, but yet, dreaded it all the same. I’d stayed up all night blasting music to try and figure out what to do, and then tucked myself into bed, still thinking. I did not yet know the answer to all the brimming questions in my mind.
I matched every twinkling star on my ceiling to a question: should I forgive him? What if I do? What if I don’t? Does he still love me? Do I still love him? Will things ever go back to before? So many questions, so little answers. I had nobody to talk to about this who would give me an honest judgment of what has been happening the past year.
Turmoil ruled my head. I could never think straight anymore. Had I been too harsh on him? Had it been his fault or mine? UGH! I threw the pillow over my head and tried to block out my thoughts. All I ever thought about was him. All I ever saw in my mind was him. No matter what he’d done wrong, I could only picture myself with him. And this was all ruining my brain!
I quickly sat up in my bed, back ramrod straight. Jogging would help clear my head, but was that what I needed right now? For the past year, I’ve been exercising more and more because it was one of the only ways I could ever get away. I’ve been doing everything I could to run and hide from life.
Playing music that spoilt my eardrums, exercising, watching the telly and movies, singing… everything! It was just in my nature to run away – to pretend that all my problems never existed. This was the exact reason why I’d wished I was born simple-minded: so that I would never have any problems; so that I could keep my childhood innocence.
I threw on some sweats and Nike sneakers, grabbed my iPod and headed out the door. I was jogging down my usual path – about a good few miles into the nearest park. At this time, everything was quiet and the day was just beginning. I loved going out at this time. It reminded me of how the world was first created, and it melted away all my worries.
When sunrise came, it was a beautiful sight, like one of a most-treasured piece of art. I could just imagine a palette full of bright colours, and God wielding the glorious brush of life: painting the sky orange, red, yellow, purple, blue and other beauties. A smile broke onto my face as wide as the rising sun. I was basked in the warm glow and I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.
But such moments don’t last long. Ever since tragedy struck me in the form of a broken heart, I forced myself to believe that good things never will. So I found myself home an hour after the sun was up, at a quarter past seven. My house was quiet, and I heard some of the birds chirping up in the trees. I loved this place. It was nestled in the midst of luscious nature, which I adored.
As I was climbing up the stairs, tip-toeing so I wouldn’t wake anyone up, my sister suddenly came down rubbing her tired eyes and yawning loudly. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, blinked a couple of times to look at me clearly, and then continued her descent.
“What are you doing up so early?” I was about to reply when she took a look at my sweats and Nikes, and then nodded without an explanation. “I was just heading up to my room,” I said anyway. She proceeded into the kitchen and I could hear some cupboards opening and closing noisily. Gosh, she could be such an inconsiderate resident at times.
Just as I was about to open the door to my room, she popped her head out of the kitchen and peered at me. “Oh, by the way Kathy, there is a letter for you on the dining table. It arrived late last night; you might want to go check it out.” With that, she disappeared again into the kingdom of pots and pans.
I rolled my eyes and made my way downstairs again. She could have told me earlier and saved my tired legs from a useless climb. I plopped down on one of the dining chairs and picked up a yellow parcel sitting on the table, and unwound the yarn that enclosed it. There was a CD case inside, along with a letter. I reached for the latter first.
“Dear Kathy,
I just wanted to let you know that I still love you. I know you might not feel the same way about me since it’s already been a year, but I feel as if my heart will never stop loving you. Whenever I think about you, I smile, and then start tearing up when I remember how badly I hurt you.
Really, I did not mean to do so. I just needed the money to help support my family. I know that I should not have done what I did, and for that, I’m very sorry. I understand that you might never forgive me, and I would not dare to hope so, but I’m very happy just to let you know how I feel.
In this lifetime, I can only be with you. Without you, I feel lost, empty and desolate. Despair grips my veins as I recall how stupid I was to let you slip away from me. Just as I had the perfect girl I could only ever dream of, I pushed you away. I will regret that forever and take it to the grave.
I just ask for one last time to see you and talk to you. I have to explain things and make them right. Even if you don’t want to talk, at least just give me a glimpse of your beautiful face again. I can’t go anymore without it. If you agree, I’ll be down at the shop today from dawn to dusk. I hope I will see you there.
Forever and more,
Alex”
It wasn’t until tear drops blotted the paper that I realized I was crying. I just couldn’t help it. I knew his family needed the money; I knew that he really loved me and hadn’t meant to hurt me. It pained me to read about his heartbreak, but I couldn’t bring myself to hope. I didn’t want to be crushed again. The higher I swing, the harder the fall. Could I let it happen again?
I heard some shuffles behind me and quickly dried my cheeks with the back of my hands and stuffed the letter into the parcel. “Morning, mum,” I greeted as my mother, rubbing her eyes and yawning in the same fashion as my sister, sat down in the chair opposite me.
“Morning, dear.” Then, she noticed the parcel I was holding and asked, “What’s that?” I blinked and stuttered, “Oh, um, just something from FedEx.” I immediately rushed upstairs and closed my room door. I had no idea why, but I just didn’t feel the need to announce Alex’s love for me to the world. Stuff like that were meant to be private – that way, it feels more intimate.
I sat down on my bed, then opened the parcel again and placed the letter on my bedside table, beside the photo of Alex and me. I stared at that photo fondly, memories flooding back to me. It was a picture we’d taken on our first date together. He brought me to the beach and we had a lovely picnic there by the sunset, burying our feet under the sand and splashing each other with water, and jumping over waves.
A little smile pulled at my lips. We’d asked a passerby to help us take a picture with my camera just as the sun was setting, and the man had ended up running away with it! I remember how Alex ran after him half the length of the beach until the thief gave up and returned the camera to us. I laughed for hours after that without stopping, until my stomach hurt too much.
Those were the good days, when life was perfect. I was close to Alex and his family, my own family, and I was doing well in my studies and having great friends. I should’ve treasured those moments more, and maybe they wouldn’t have gone downhill from there. I ran my finger gently over Alex’s handsome face until it became blurry with tears.
Something with four sharp edges suddenly thumped onto my left knee and I jumped. It was the CD in the package that Alex had sent me. I opened it up, frowning with jitters, and saw that he had burnt an album full of songs he’d composed. I went over to my laptop and played it.
“Hey Kathy, this album is for you. The songs I wrote in here on the guitar are recorded live, and I spent a really long time compiling everything. I hope you like it, and find the lyrics meaningful, because I sure do.” Alex’s pre-recorded voice boomed through my speakers, and I watched as he sat on his bed and started strumming the guitar I’d gotten him for Christmas two years ago.
By the time all twelve songs ended, I stood up and powered my laptop down with new determination. Alex had done so much for me, and no matter how much he’d hurt me in the past, he still loved me. And the most important thing was: I still loved him too. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and sneakers, and then went downstairs for brunch.
It was twelve noon when I decided to go over to the shop to see him. He had said in the letter that he was going to be there, so I got into my car and drove down Main Street. The radio was on, but I wasn’t paying any attention to it, and it soon became just a humming comfort in the background.
What was I going to say to Alex when I saw him? Hi, I received your letter and wanted to get back with you? Definitely not! I thought about everything we’ve been through. Did I want to date him again? I sure missed the way I fit in his arms, and the smell of his shampoo. It did wonders to calm me down. But could I stand the hurt if we broke up again?
Perhaps it would be best if we were just friends… for now. I mean, people who loved each other could still be friends, right? Yes, yes, of course. Friends seemed like a good idea. One year was a long time for people to change, so we should take this time to get acquainted with each other again.
It was with these happy thoughts that I stopped at the red light, at the shop’s nearest junction. I just had to round one more corner and it would be there. I would step in and see the one guy I’ve been thinking about twenty-four seven for the past hundred or so days. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn round and round as if it were on a skewer.
But then, my eyes raked over the one pedestrian crossing the street, and my stomach just dropped. It was impossible – it couldn’t be him! That hair… those bluer than blue eyes. My chest pounded when I saw him. He looked thinner than usual and had an unshaven chin, but he still looked beautiful; as beautiful as he’d always been.
I just wasn’t accustomed to seeing him. One year we’d been away from each other. To suddenly see him out in broad daylight like that, it was practically a crime! A honk interrupted my train of thoughts and my eyes snapped up. The traffic had started moving again, and I was blocking everybody else behind me.
I reluctantly stamped on the accelerator, always keeping my eyes on him from the rearview mirror. But just as I was about to turn and lose sight of him, the worst thing happened. It was all so fast; I didn’t have time to react! Images blurred together and the only thing I could think of was to rush over to Alex’s side at once.
I got out of my car once I parked it on the left lane right next to the shop, then ran down the street to the scene. People were staring, crowding around the victims and giving me a full-blown panic attack. A speeding car cutting into the road; a truck driver that tried his best to swerve to avoid a collision; metal running over the divider that separated the roads and the pavement, and then ramming into the object of my existence with a sickening thud that knocked him to the ground…
Blood roared in my ears and my shoes scraped against the cement. One foot in front of the other came naturally to me and soon, I was pulling against the current of the passersby and trying my best to reach him. I sent a silent prayer to God: Please let my eyes deceive me just this once. Let this man not be Alex.
A gasp of horror escaped from my parted lips and everything swarmed around me. It was much too overwhelming. No longer caring about anything else in the world, I fell to my knees and hugged the limp chest of the man I love. Whatever sense I’d kept since our breakup was now lost, and nothing else could redeem it.
I had not just seen him crash into a truck. I was not hugging him now. He was not the person I thought he was. This could not be Alex.

--The Broken Circle; Prologue

Facedown

2009-06-23T19:32:00.001+08:00

I apologise that I'm posting less and less nowadays. I guess the holidays just caught up to me. :P I'm gonna be very busy when school comes back, but I'll still try and regularly post; monthly, perhaps. This is another song adaptation, but it's much shorter than the previous one. Welcome Facedown by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.

I crushed the can in my hand, flattening the aluminum into pulp. The crisp, crunching sound gave me reassurance, and I found relief in the knowledge that he would hurt a lot, a lot more than she ever did.
“No, really, I’m fine,” she said, still sniffing and wiping at her wet eyes. My heart clenched, as if a coat of metal had been dragged over it. I couldn’t stand how much pain she had to go through, while all he did was fool around with girls. I hated how cheap he was. I hated his attitude. I hated how much she loved him.
“You’re not, Melissa. But don’t worry, everything has a consequence.” I gritted my teeth in anger, pounding them. Her brown eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to say something. “Don’t even say anything. I’m still going to make sure he’s sorry for it,” I waved my finger in front of the webcam to make my point.
She rolled her eyes and sighed, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. I gulped. I loved it when she did that, but of course, she would never know that. And even if she did, she would not care.
Quickly, I ended our webcam session and switched my laptop off. It was so hard talking to her like this, when I loved her so much, but she loved someone else. Someone like my best friend, who was a gigantic flirt.
I’d warned her never to get into a relationship with him, but she didn’t listen. It hurt, but not as much as when he keeps cheating on her, cutting her and making her bleed so much. I hated it. I hated him.
The song Facedown started playing and I searched for my phone through the clutter in my room. I huffed when I saw the caller ID. How could I have forgotten? Facedown was my best friend and I’s new theme song.
My eyes narrowed as I answered the phone. “Hello,” I heard my monotonous voice echo throughout my cell phone. “Hey buddy. How’re you?” The bubbling, cheery sound of Chuck drove me to the edge and I gripped my table hard, almost breaking the wood.
“I’m good,” I said through gritted teeth. Undeterred, he continued on, “Hey, guess what? I’m at this club right now and there are so many hot girls!” That explained the noise that was burning into my ear.
The table shook with my fury and a plan conjured itself in my head. “Do you think I can meet you there?” I asked. “Sure! Girls are for sharing! Meet me at Middle Street down Second Avenue. The party’s there – hidden, yeah?” I shoved my hands in my pocket as I threw my long legs out of the door. “I’ll be there.”
~
The club was taking place in a shabby-looking house down the street – a three storey bungalow with dizzying lights and people walking out, reeking of booze. My nose wrinkled as I swung the door open and forced myself inside.
People were partying in the middle of the living room, complete with a DJ booth playing heavy metal music and teenagers – who can’t possibly be much older than me – drugging themselves. I rolled my eyes and dipped my head to let my fringe cover my right eye. Apparently, this party was for emo people.
I made my way to the bar and swigged a mug of whisky; not caring of anyone spiked it. In a place like this, it didn’t matter if it had been spiked or not, anyway.
Scanning the crowd, my eyes raked over a drunkard knocking into people in the middle of the room, surrounded by a group of girls who didn’t have enough underwear to cover their butts. Sluts. I was about to look at some other people when I caught the tattoo on the dude’s forearm. A dragon. Chuck.
I quickly waded my way over and as I came closer to him, I became more and more convinced he was my best friend. The best friend who kept on killing the girl I loved. And now, he was going to kill the hearts of other girls as well, who I’m sure all have best friends like me who care for them and who would get so mad.
Pushing past everyone else, I got within an inch of Chuck, and then grabbed a fistful of his hair before he turned around. I threw a punch at his left cheek, releasing all my anger and hurt at him. I heard a loud crack as I realized I’d punched him with my right fist, the one with a large ring on it.
Chuck staggered and fell on the ground, but the rest of the people were oblivious to him, too drunk or drugged up to notice. He slowly stood up after recovering from the blow, and while I was practically seething with fury, I looked at him. He was not Chuck.
My eyes drifted over to the tattoo on his forearm, and gulped. He was the gang leader of the Red Dragons, one of the most ferocious gangs in the whole suburban area of New York. And I’d just scraped his cheek, which had red blood gushing out of the wound. It was deep, and I was in trouble.

--Song Adaptation

Story Exercise

2009-06-09T11:37:00.001+08:00

I know it's been a long time since I've last updated; I've just been keeping all my writing to myself. I tried my hand at writing from the male's point of view once more, and it's been becoming more successful every time I try. Here is a story adaptation that I based loosely on the lyrics of Because You Live by Jesse McCartney. :)

I sat on the orange sofa bed staring out the window. It was raining heavily outside, pouring as if it were the end of the world, and the grey, so grey, clouds were crying, protesting. If Marigold were here, she’d have laughed at the ‘pessimistic’ clouds, and started drawing a smiley face on the misted window.
Marigold… How much I missed her. Her positive attitude could have lifted a thousand ton weight, and made it as effortless as eating a pork pie. Something wet trickled down my face, but I ignored it.
I thought of Marigold’s smile. So real, so carefree, as if she had no worry in the world. Her pretty, heart-shaped face with its two brown eyes and her cute little nose. My damp bangs flopped into my eyes, and I hugged the cushion closer to me. A tearing sensation started up in my chest; it felt as though I was being split into two by this invisible hole that continued tearing up my heart and down my stomach.
Tears were running down my face and I squeezed the pillow so hard I thought I could feel the fluff come out. I buried my streaked face into the softness, curled up like the vulnerable ball that I was. It smelt of Chanel No. 5 – Marigold’s favourite perfume. I’d bought it for her last year for her birthday. It was only then that I realized I’d been hugging our ‘anniversary’ cushion, and then hollow sobs started rippling out of my chest.
Biting my lip, my entire frame shook with sobs – full of tears and snot. I didn’t think I would miss Marigold so much. We’d been together for seven years! And she just threw our entire relationship down the drain! All that I’d done for her… Everything I bought her, everything I sacrificed for her. Did she not bother about that at all?
Had she even loved me? She’d said once that we would be together forever, that our destinies were intertwined. Had she been lying all along?
My heart screamed. LIES! I should’ve known she was too good to be true. I was not worthy of her, and I shouldn’t even have tried. For the whole seven years, I’d thought everything was perfect, and that I wouldn’t want any other life. I hadn’t, but apparently, she had.
I went through another round of spasms, my body shaking uncontrollably. The tears kept flowing; my eyes never grew tired of letting them out. It seemed as if the Niagara Falls would never stop thundering, and neither would my heart. It pounded against my chest. I could practically feel the cut inflicted on it, bleeding and bleeding. It felt that way…
My phone started vibrating in my pocket and I heard the friendship song playing… “Hello?” I answered, trying to steady my voice. Quickly wiping away my tears, I cleared my throat. “Um, Joel?” It was Serene. I swallowed the big ball stuck in my throat before replying.
“Oh yes, what?” My words came out sharper than intended, but it didn’t deter Serene. She continued speaking in that same, quiet voice. “Are you alright?” I blinked, and then said, “Sure. What’s up?” She sighed very silently on the other end, but I picked it up.
“She told me, Joel. And I can tell that you’ve been crying.” I sucked in a sharp breath, as if a rope had suddenly been wound tightly around my chest. “No, I’m fine. Seriously.” Silence. “Look, did you call me just for that? Because I’m actually quite busy, and-”
“Joel, stop faking it. If you feel upset, there’s no point hiding it. Don’t you treat me as your best friend?” She sounded snappy. I sighed. I did treat her as a best friend, but I didn’t want to whine to anyone…
“Joel, please. I just want to help,” her voice grew even quieter and I flinched. After pinching my lips a few times while she waited patiently on the other end, I finally cracked.
“Okay, so she called me, and she told me that she was getting tired of it,” my voice quivered and my stomach became shaky. I was taking shorter, shallow breaths at the memory. “She said she no longer loved me.”
She drew a sharp breath, and then a loud huffing came over the phone. “Oh my goodness, that’s terrible! I don’t think you’re alright, are you?” The wetness streaked down my face again and I could taste the saltiness of my tears.
“No, it’s just… I mean, I loved her so much, and we were together for seven years! I gave so much for her, and she’d been lying all along. It just hurts so much!” I cried into the phone, overcome by the internal tearing once more. Serene said nothing, but it helped. And for the next two hours, I spilled all my thoughts and hurt into my cell phone.
~
“Catch, Joel!” I turned and she passed me the ball. I was momentarily stunned, but then took off with the ball in my hands, dribbling it down the court. I reached the three-point mark, and then did a jump-shot. Swish! I pumped a fist in the air and heard the familiar laughter behind me. The one which told of nothing but lifelong happiness.
“Um, hey Marigold. What are you doing here?” Serene spoke, and I found her standing beside me. Since when did she get here? I concentrated on her and tried to block out the sound of Marigold’s voice. I made sure that I kept my back to her, and I fixed my stare on Serene.
“Oh, nothing much. Just saw you guys playing, so I came over,” Marigold’s carefree voice floated into my ears, and I frowned. Serene was staring over my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to look at my ex-girlfriend. Serene had given me some tips while we were IM-ing last night. And this was one of them – don’t look at her, don’t talk to her, ignore her at all costs.
“Oh, okay,” Serene replied, and then an awkward silence descended upon the three of us. I could sense that Marigold felt a little out of place with me flat-out pretending that she didn’t exist, because she said, “Um, I’d better get back. David’s waiting for me. I’ll see you guys around!” Then, she ran off, leaving me breathless.
“She has another guy?” I asked, my voice sounding weak. Serene bit her lip and looked over at me, pity dotting her kind, green eyes. And then I walked off, my tears falling on the hard concrete of the basketball court.
~
I was walking home from school, brooding over Marigold, again. I was trying so hard not to think about her, but it was tough. All throughout the day, I was dreading seeing her in all my classes and at lunch, but it seemed as if when I tried to avoid her, I would come closer to her than ever. Just this morning after the brief meeting at the basketball court, I’d bumped into her at my locker, and again after lunch.
I even went out of my way to avoid her! But it didn’t help. During lunch, I sat alone eating my fries in cheese dip, watching enviously as Marigold sat and flirted with David across the cafeteria. I knew everyone was watching me; our relationship had been widely known throughout the school, but now, everyone saw only Marigold and that soccer dude who kicked the ball like a girl.
As I trudged through the light drizzle, I couldn’t help but recall the times when we had been together. I’d met her at the train station eight years ago, when we became the best of friends. Her phone had been stolen, so I’d lent her mine for her to call her father. Since then, we realized we lived near each other – in the same neighbourhood – and we visited each other regularly.
We always hung out at each others’ houses, and dated in secret. We even went to the same high school, and now, the same college. I remember how she used to blast that indie music from her black-and-silver amplifier, those songs by the band from Pennsylvania that nobody knows. I remember our third anniversary when we were both fifteen. I’d brought her to the pavilion three miles away from our neighbourhood where I used to play in when I was younger.
I’d decorated the pavilion with twinkly fairy lights which I knew she loved, and I’d slow danced with her to the romantic song “Smiles in the wind”. She’d smiled so sweetly it burned a hole in my heart, and that had been my first kiss – with her, and with anyone else.
Another tear fell down my cheek and soon, plenty others dotted my face. I pursed my lips and let them drip down in silence. I was almost nearing my house. When I rounded the corner, I noticed something was wrong. A silver scooter was parked in front of my house, and there was a bottle of grease on the window sill. Panic shot through my body.
Had somebody sneaked into my house?! I knew my parents weren’t home, in fact, nobody was. I hurriedly pushed open the door and dumped my bag in the living room, rushing up the stairs. Even now, I was still thinking of Marigold and when she and I had slid down the carpet from the second floor together.
I shook my head, hoping to shake all my thoughts away, and turned the doorknob to my room. It was locked.
I did the first thing that came to mind – I dropped to the floor and tried to peek in the gap between the door and the wooden floor. All I could see was a chair in the middle of the room, and that was all that had changed. I scowled. Why would a burglar be using a chair?!
I scrambled up and tried the door again, this time twisting the golden knob around and around, producing a noisy ‘click-clack’ sound. It still wouldn’t budge! I knocked against the white door and thumped my leg. “Whoever is in there, you’d better come out now or else I’ll hammer my way in!”
The frantic scraping of the chair could be heard, as well as an ear-piercing screech coming from inside, as if it was metal on metal. My eyes widened in frustration, and panic shot through my veins. I braced myself to crash against the door if this person didn’t open it in three seconds.
Muttering “three, two, one…” under my breath, adrenaline raced through me and I huffed. Taking a deep breath, I shouted at the top of my lungs and charged into the room just as the door swung open. I skidded to a stop once inside, and gasped in wander. What happened to my room?!
~
My room looked as though it had been transformed into a set straight out of the heartland of Hollywood. Posters of my favourite movie, sports and music stars hung from the walls, which were all coated with fresh paint of bright, lively colours – orange, yellow, lime green and sky blue.
The furniture had been re-arranged, and all the old photos had been taken down, replaced by new, happy pictures of Serene and my family, framed with pretty designs in pastel colours. I also noticed Marigold’s scent was rid from the room, and instead, sprayed with a Drakkar Noir perfume, the same one on my beaten, leather motorcycle jacket.
I couldn’t believe it. I suddenly noticed a striking pink note on my wardrobe door, and shuffled over to look at it, still shocked and in a state of utter amazement. It read, in red cursive words, “Meet me at the rooftop – the S ;)”
A wide grin spread over my face as I pushed open the door at the corner of the room, which led to a flight of stairs up to the rooftop. Clutching the note in my fist, I stepped out onto the windy roof, the light breeze pushing my blonde bangs into my eyes. I quickly scanned the flat place, and spotted her with her back to me, sitting on the bench near the edge.
“Hey,” I bounced over and sat beside her. She didn’t turn to look at me, but muttered, “Hey”. She was wearing a black glam shirt with grey skinny jeans and black converse. I sensed that she was in one of her rare ‘deep-thoughts’ moments, so I left her alone to look at the sunset for a while. Then, she finally faced me, and said in her uplifting voice, “So, do you like your new room?”
I laughed when she winked at me teasingly. “It’s good, thanks so much.” “Seriously?” She questioned, doubtful. I gazed at her, wondering how her face seemed to glimmer in the faint light. “Yeah.” And I wasn’t kidding – my room really did look good!
With that, we continued chatting till dusk, when my parents came back from work, and she had to leave to finish up her homework. It wasn’t until she left that I realized she lived on the other side of town.
I chuckled to myself and hid in my room, sketching some random picture on a piece of drawing paper. I never knew that friends could do so much for you, especially Serene. She’d really helped me so much; I didn’t know how to thank her.
Just before I went to bed, I looked down at the picture I’d been doodling since an hour ago, and saw Marigold and I kissing under an umbrella in the rain…
~
A hollow slurping sound came from beside me and my eyes left the only orange table in the cafeteria, slinking over to Serene. She was biting her straw, her face scrunched up in intense frustration. I started laughing out loud, and I didn’t know why – either because of the reason why she was producing that gassy noise, or because of how cute she looked.
She noticed me staring only thirty seconds later, and she said, “What?” I almost believed her… until her green eyes – the most striking feature of her face – puckered and a slight flicker started up in it. I blew my bangs out of my face.
“Dammit, you’re trying to make me laugh, aren’t you?” She blinked twice, in shock that I’d guessed it right, and then spoke with a layered innocence that I did not believe. “Why would you say that? I mean, you laugh when you laugh, I don’t have to make you laugh, do I?” But I caught the mysterious glint in her eyes that happened sometimes and started cracking up again.
“Thanks,” I said, really meaning it. A sly grin popped up on her face, and my eyes narrowed in apparent dramatic form. “Well, to really thank me, maybe you could treat me to dinner today.”
My jaw dropped. Serene. And. I. Go. For. Dinner?! She saw my expression and her face fell; I could almost see the hurt in her eyes before it flashed away. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. Just a little extra request,” she winked. I chuckled. It was great that my best friend knew how to pass an awkward moment. Very awkward moment.
~

--Because You Live; Random Writing

Conifer

2009-05-01T07:58:00.001+08:00

Such random things boredom can make you come up with. :)

Ever thought about how human beings weren’t the only “master inhabitants” of this planet? Well, if you haven’t, then think more about it. Probe below and beyond the surface of this seemingly “shallow” concept. Because it’s not shallow. It’s not even a concept! It’s the truth.
Conifers are that’s what we’re called. We’re ALMOST exactly like human beings. Actually, our predecessors originated from human beings. But we’re somewhat different. We’re genetically modified humans. Which means that the scientists take YOU lot, and then they use different cell-cloning techniques to create US.
Cool, isn’t it? Not quite. We’re currently being hunted by everyone in the modern-scientific-technological world. Everyone. Why? Well, here’s the whole back story, shall we?
My old ancestors – which aren’t really THAT old, if you count just a mere hundred or so years ago – had been created in the LAB. Now, isn’t that a hideous way to be born? Yes, of course it is! So, anyway, moving on. The old written records say that the first Conifer to be born was under the hands of a certain Dr. Haley Brown, who’d mixed the DNA tissues of a human, elephant, squirrel, dog and even a flower.
We’re not really sure what flower it is – at least, I haven’t really learnt in my history lessons yet – but what I’m sure of is the rest of the story. So do you want to hear it or not?!
Okay, so. The first ever Conifer was pretty much a disaster. They’d added just a little too much of elephant cell into the brain so that he’d pretty much acted like an elephant, trying to drink from his nose.
After that, Dr. Haley Brown had consulted the help of some genetics researcher at Stanford called Mr. Gregory and another medical scientist by the name of… ARGH. I can’t remember!
But yeah, besides that, they’d constructed the next Conifer based on the previous disaster. This time, they used the same amount of animal cells mixed with a higher content of human cells plus a varied constant of plant cells.
This time around, they came up with the perfect Conifer. It was, in fact, the “nearest-to-perfect” human as well. He totally understood the “mind-over-matter” thing, and could use more of the brain capacity that other “incomparable” humans couldn’t. Which just totally explains why I can run twice the speed of the fastest human on Earth in half the time. And it also explains why I can basically do everything faster. Oh, and don’t forget, I can even move things with my mind. Like telepathy.
Well, ALMOST. I can move my ruler by one centimeter in class. But it’s about there. I bet YOU can’t even do that, can you? J
Back to the story. Dr. Brown was satisfied with the New Conifer, so she cloned a couple more of them, just that she changed the gender of some of them to create an equally-balanced gender thing. It’s something I can’t ever understand. There isn’t any difference between man and woman! GOSH, see, I’m digressing again. Never you mind. So yeah, then, Dr. Brown hopped onto some other NEW project on the cloning and mixing of plant and animal cells to create a “planimal” or something like that. HAHA. I started laughing out loud right there and then.
Basically, she left this one unfinished and the Conifers – as clever as we are – escaped to find freedom besides being stuck in a white-washed lab stinking with sanitizer. Or at least, that’s what I imagine anyway. So yeah, they escaped and worked their mysterious – or say, OUR mysterious – charming ways to seem like a normal human to avoid getting caught.
We’re quite adaptable, if I might say so myself. They blended in very well and not before long, a giant search was cast all over the world for the missing Conifers. I think Dr. Brown and her petty test subject helpers would have let it go… if they hadn’t noticed the terrible mistake with us.
Yes, mistake. The near-perfect Conifers had a ghastly mistake. We absorb water. Yes. You heard right. We ABSORB water. Which means that we can’t go swimming or get splashed or anything. Minus the fun.
Sighs. But I guess that’s the one flaw or something in us that humans can feel proud of. Not like they’re EVER going to know or anything. I mean, PSH. Anyway, once we get into contact with more than 10ml of water, our skin starts absorbing everything, and they all pour into our internal systems.
It’s all fine and good, except for the fact that although we need hydration just like you guys, we can’t have TOO MUCH. About 20ml of water per day is ideal for us. We already have a lot of water in us since our bodies are made up of many more cells than all of you, so we absorb a lot more water in our different cells, see.
Which means that once we have too much water, our cell membranes/walls or whatever push them out and they come out all the way through every single hole in our bodies. Nothing harmful, really, but I’m sure it’ll be a terrible sight for your kind.
So there. Oh, and before I get all too moody and gloomy and everything, I’m just going to mention one simple fact that can make all of you jealous, if possible.
We never get fat. JEALOUS, AREN’T YOU?! Ahaha. Too bad then.
You know why? It’s actually because we have plant cells in us and it’s quite a minimal, measured amount so we can make sugar in our bodies. And since this sugar is the healthiest kind of glucose and keeps us sufficiently fuelled once we’re exposed to sunlight, we don’t really have to eat. And therefore, we don’t get fat. :D

~Conifer; Random Writing

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 5 Original Draft

2009-04-21T18:48:00.002+08:00

So, I've managed to come up with not much else for this week of writing, besides a CONFIDENTIAL and under TIGHT WRAPS project that I'm working on right now. Doing plenty of research on it as well. :) But anyway, here's the ORIGINAL DRAFT of Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 5. Just in case you've forgotten, you can click on the archives on the left. :D

**Suddenly, the familiar wrapping began. Everything else fuzzed out until I could hear whatever my ‘extra hearing’ picked up. But something was different, so very different. Instead of seeing black, an image of a beautiful lady came to me. Her long, black hair cascaded down her back; she was wrapped in draping, gold silk with gold and silver accessories embedded with precious-looking gems of all shapes and sizes.
“Hello, Kevin,” she said. “H-how do you know my name?” Her knowledge frightened me, as did her eyes. No matter how much she looked like a queen, her beauty would never mask her dark, black eyes, black as her raven-dark hair.
I saw her blossoming red, full lips twist into a smirk and she replied, “Oh, trust me, I know a lot about you.” I blinked. That just made my heart sink even heavier.
Who was she? How did she know about me? How did I manage to envision her even though I could only ‘hear’?
“Kevin,” she leaned towards me; I tried to take a step back, but found a wall behind me, “please respect your power. Not everybody has the ability to hear what people are saying in other dimensions.”
I blinked again, shocked. She knew about my ‘extra hearing’? But how? Why? Who was she?
“Who-who are you?” I stammered. She laughed cheerily.
“You don’t have to know about that right now. Just remember, whisperer...” Her dark eyes became deadly serious again, “...never will your ability away. Instead, embrace it with all your heart.” And with that last, whispered sentence, she disappeared.
My head was instantly filled with a dull ache, as if someone had just thumped me in the head with a Frisbee. I slumped down onto the floor and laid down there. How was it that I felt so dizzy? What, exactly, had that woman done to me?
**
“You mean, you saw her too?” Katie asked, wide-eyed. It was fifteen minutes after, and we were all discussing the queen-like woman. How did we even get to that subject? Well, it all started with Keri’s outburst...
“I can’t take it anymore!” She shouted once my dizziness went away. I looked up at her. Take what? Could she possibly be suffering from what I was suffering? Could she ‘hear’ too? Had she seen the lady? Seeing that all of us were looking at her, she took a deep breath.
After seeming to hesitate, she finally blurted it out, “It’s been impossible since I was ten. I know this might seem really crazy, but it’s true; you have to believe me!” I frowned. I’d gotten the ‘extra hearing’ when I was ten too. Was it too much of a coincidence?
“Listen, I...” She paused, then decided the better of it and continued, rushing through her words. “Actually, whenever I sleep, I’ll have these weird dreams about some snowy place and commandos on ice bears and goblin-like creatures and fairies and pixies and all those crazy, magical stuff, and then when I awaken, it’s as if I had really been there. I would be covered in snow, and-and I,” she stopped, biting her lip, on the verge of tears.
I had frozen, and so had Katie. Were we actually on the same page? Was she telling the truth? That I wasn’t the only freak in our family? That I wasn’t the only abnormal one? That she had some freaky magical power too? Or, at least according to the magical-looking woman.
She put her head in her hands and shook her head, muttering incoherently to herself. I reached my hand to pat her shoulder comfortingly and said, “It’s fine. I have a magical power too.” Her head shot up.
“What?” Keri and Katie asked both at the same time, their voices saturated with disbelief. I sighed.
“It’s true. I can hear... stuff that other people can’t. It’s frightening.” I grimaced at the thought. It was much harder to accept saying out loud.
“Well, since all of you have confessed, then I will too. I’ve had this since I was ten—that’s why I was so reluctant for you two to come over and hang out. I didn’t want anyone to find out, to label me a freak. I... I see things. It’s like I’m hallucinating. I see all those things you talk about, Keri. Magical lutes, elves, fairies, pixies, commandos on ice bears, everything.” Her voice broke at the end.
So... we all had these abilities? My feelings were mixed up, I didn’t know what to think!**

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

Melissa's High School

2009-04-04T12:50:00.002+08:00

Hey all. I know, I know. I've been more than just a little bit behind. But nevertheless, I've been finding more and more time to write now, and I'm pretty happy about that. Here's a new one modelled after chick-lit fiction like the Clique series by Lisi Harrison. Highly recommended for people into chick-lit stuff like me. :)

Melissa checked her reflection in the nearest car window – which happened to be one of a Toyota Vios – and gave herself a quick once-over. She had managed to find a black-and-white old schoolgirl cashmere sweater with a rounded neck and wore it over a white short-sleeved blouse with sharp cut-offs and a straight collar. A skinny blue-and-gold foiled tie was thrown around her neck for added effect, and it matched the colourful, striped plaid miniskirt she’d worn – together with thick, chunky knee-high socks and high-cut lace-up sneakers. All these, she’d gotten from a thrift shop over the holidays.
Her hair was worn in a preppy fashion, a bun complete with a chopstick through it to secure. She had powdered on a thin layer of foundation and some green shadow on her eyes, with a neutral-looking mascara and lip gloss from the Body Shop – all courtesy of the free samples she’d gotten from her cousin.
Macy had just returned to Italy after staying over at Melissa’s house for two weeks – and within those two weeks, she’d managed to transform Melissa from a nobody to a pretty-looking somebody. She’d taught her how to apply her own natural make-up, how to mix-and-match clothes together and how to be more confident, look and smell great.
Her lips quivered now as her mind reeled in playback to all the tips her beautiful, popular cousin had told her: keep your head straight, chin up; don’t look desperate or pathetic in any way; be cool and always keep your calm and don’t care about what others think of you. Melissa practiced it now, strutting across the pavement, pouting like a sultry model prancing about on the catwalk. She tossed her side fringe back and sneaked a glance at the window of the Vios in front of her. Perfect.
She rolled her shoulders back, held her head up high, walked all the way till she stood just outside the school building and breathed in and out deeply. She was five minutes late, and five seconds from entering the school – where her fate would be decided by the rest of the students in the entire level. She counted through the beats in her head to make sure she’d go in at the perfect time. Ah-five, ah-six, ah-five, six, seven, eight.
She threw the wooden double doors open and strode confidently into the almost-empty hallway except for a group of beautiful-looking girls, her sneakers squeaking on the clean, polished floor. Suddenly, Melissa wished she’d worn heels. But then, they threw her a look and she quickly glanced away, holding her head up high just like she’d walked to the door.
She moved with slow, confident steps and brushed past the girls as if she hadn’t just been staring at them. She could feel their penetrating gazes on her back as they stopped whispering amongst themselves and a small smirk gave herself away on her face. She walked closer to another set of double doors that, she was sure, led into the assembly area and set her hand down on the shiny metal handle, ready to pump it and saunter in. But a voice behind her interrupted her sleek routine.
“The doors are locked.” Melissa rolled her eyes and pumped the door anyway. But the girl was right – she couldn’t open it. She felt her cheeks flush crimson and cleared her throat before she spun around on the heel of her sneaker.
A slow smile spread over her face and she asked in the best sugary-sarcastic voice she could put on. “Where are the others? I’m afraid it’s assembly time.” She saw the girls exchange eye-rolls and immediately wanted to knock her head. How could she sound so stupid?!
The girl in the middle stepped out; she was the same one who’d told her the doors were locked. She was pretty, in a rich sort of way, but not beautiful. She stood slightly taller than Melissa with slightly more flabby arms and legs and a slightly more drooping tummy that showed with her tight-wrap colourful print sarong and the latest pair of Sevens. She had blonde wispy hair that was swept back into a tight, neat ponytail, hanging high from the back of her head. It reminded Melissa of a horsetail.
“Assembly’s held in the hall,” she stated flatly. Melissa’s eyebrows mashed against each other – the annoying thing that happened whenever she was confused. “But the doors were locked and-”
Another girl stepped up and took her place beside ‘horsetail’, as Melissa had decided to call her. She wasn’t that pretty at all, with her heavily Sephora-fied face and a droopy ponytail bunching up at odd knots down her waist. She’d worn a blouse, skinny tie, plaid skirt, black cotton stockings and brown heels – almost the same as Melissa. She felt her face flame up.
“Yes, they don’t allow latecomers to go in. Locked the doors, I expect.” Melissa’s instinctive reflex kicked in. “How’d you know?” The ‘Sephora-fied’ girl lifted a wiry finger and Melissa whipped around, her sideburns almost giving her whiplash. Mounted on kapaline board and embossed in fancy gold letters was a sign hanging right above the door to the hall, saying ‘LATECOMERS WILL NOT BE ENTERTAINED’.
Tears sprang into Melissa’s eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d failed so badly during her first five minutes of high school. It just wasn’t fair!

--Melissa's High School; Random Writing

Enchantrix

2009-03-16T18:48:00.002+08:00

Oops, sorry for my long overdue post. I've been trying to keep to a constant one post per week at the very least, but it's not working very much due to my overflowing schedule, which doesn't permit me time to blog, or even write. Though I've been keeping to my writing job for about a month now, writing at least twice a week - either in school or on the weekends, because I have simply no time in between. :P Well, this is a short excerpt called 'Enchantrix', which I wrote during my Literature test. Teehees. Enjoy. ;)

Enchanted are the mistress and maiden, as they flounder through the golden leaves among sprigs of corn and showers of pink, purple and red petals. How sunny is the day, as the light radiates around the brightly-colored meadow of shimmer and shine. Ever-rosy are the cheeks of the lady with her hair swept up into a neat bun, wearing a hide made of fur from an ice bear, and a handmade dress woven with the strips of meat from a deer – her own, personalized lucky charm.
Her ivory-colored skin glittered in the natural glow as she turned to her servant beside her with newfound glory. “My, oh my, isn’t this place the loveliest of all, Mrs. Beck?” She cried out with loud exuberance.
The other, older woman with her hair worn in the exact same, prudent fashion replied respectfully, “Yes madam, would you like a cup of tea with some buck cherry? I’ll be setting up the little picnic there down by the lake, in a jiffy.”
A thin, wiry finger pointed to the surface of a glimmering reflection down at most thirty hectares or so from their current place, and the madam nodded, a pleasant smile on her face.
“No hurry, no hurry,” she spoke absentmindedly, starting down on the soft patch of green grass. The maiden cracked just a little – looks like she’d caught her mistress on her best day. Then, she dutifully bustled off to work, keeping in mind the professional aspect of her job.
Miss Barnes sauntered along the clean-cut greenery in a slow, easy fashion. A little unlikely for the busiest woman in the town council – but it was great wonder what a beautiful, calming place could to do such hurry.
But soon enough, kind old Mrs. Beck, who’d only wanted a job to keep steady her increasing financial expenses, broke the magic by huffing and puffing down the gentlest of slopes, balancing a tray in the nook of her arm, and the rest of their belongings in wherever else she could find to cram them into. A rather stressing sight, I might add.
She frantically hurried down to set it all up – like a picnic in a fantastical park – though slightly tripping on a weed, her big, fat bosom jiggling in her miraculous fluke to stay on both feet.
Numerous sighs came from both mistress and maiden as they settled down to rest, in this wonderful house of beauty, sipping cups of hot tea and enjoying nibbles of sugary cake that Mrs. Beck had packed with her. And, for the first time ever in the times of the mayor’s ruling, Miss Barnes was caught barefooted. Such a great time to relax, she did not pass up.
“So, may you say that the town council should lessen their nightly meetings? Absolutely not! To horror with you, Mrs. Beck!” The lady called, utterly appalled, and hugging a dark secret within her. Nobody must know of it.
But her servant had no time to reply – simply no time at all! For the sentence was taken right out of her mouth, but through the neigh of a horse! And from the distasteful look that a professional maiden should never have on her face, I can so safely tell you that this horse isn’t just a normal horse. And the little girl standing beside it definitely wasn’t either.

--Enchantrix

Dragons

2009-03-04T19:47:00.002+08:00

Hey! I just realised that it's already jumped to the month of March so fast and I didn't even know it! I'm sorry if I haven't been posting much recently - I haven't been writing much either, just a few snippets here and there because I'm so busy. I'm glad to say, though, that I'm adjusting perfectly well to life in my new school (SOTA, namely) and that although I don't really have much time to post or write (:O) I'll definitely do my best to make sure that I keep up to date with my writing. :)

She crouched under the dense shrubbery, trying hard not to pant. Nobody must know she was here. She looked up at the dark sky through her thick frame of long, appealing eyelashes and immediately, her shoulders curled inwards defensively. A bright white light pulsed across the night, forming the immensely complex shape of a... dragon. A shiver rippled through her thin body and she wrapped her wiry arms around her quivering frame, rocking back and forth. What a sight! She’d known immediately what it meant – and what she knew definitely wasn’t good. Suddenly, the sky flashed with specks of gold, this time shimmering and shiny, and instead of seeping across the dark clouds like it had the first time, it started to come together. To create one entity – not a dragon, but a serpent. On an impulsive reaction, she jumped up and started running down the street, not knowing what she intended to do, but understanding that she needed to do something! Her shoes slapped the concrete beneath her feet and her soles hurt from all the running, but on she ran, the bushes and trees and thick forest disappearing far, far behind her. Her breath was catching up to her, choking her throat and squeezing her heart in the coldness of the night, but she kept on running. She mustn’t stop, not until she reached the school anyway! So on and on she went, never once pausing to suck in a deep breath – which she so drastically needed. Never. A red-bricked building finally came into view after the long, tiring journey of consistent paces on the pavement, and at last, she started to relax. The colour of the walls soothed her, calmed her down and made her remember the plan she’d formed in her mind while during her insane period of running. Breathing out hastily through her nostrils, she pursed her blue, cracked lips tightly, and sneaked in through the doors of the building, the ones with the broken glass and refractive panels. And then, from behind the wooden frame of the bespectacled shops down the street, a bald man emerged – complete with sunglasses and a dark, navy-colored suit. With the sign of the dragon on his forehead.

--Random Writing; Dragons

**I might not be properly paragraphing everything right now, because I'm desperately rushing for time and wishing that everyday had 40 hours. :P**

Love

2009-02-28T14:44:00.003+08:00

Is love like that?
Pulling you one way, and yet you feel like you're being pulled by the other. As if you're a bridge and invisible forces are stretching you across the river, long enough to make sure that people can cross, and then you get nailed into the ground to make sure you're secure and wouldn't fall. You think that's all and that you can't feel anymore pain, but just when you're becoming more optimistic, it comes again. And it feels worse this time. People step on you, jump up and down, squashing you just for the fun of it, and they don't even give a damn about how pain you might feel. But you can't seem to get angry, not at the people walking on top of you, not at the tugs that had caused your pain in the first place.
You just can't bring yourself to be angry, not at any of them. You're only angry at yourself, for allowing this at all. But then, when you think about it, a hole starts forming in you, because if you hadn't been stretched this way and that, the people wouldn't have stepped on you, and they wouldn't have been able to cross the river and they would all have drowned.
Is that love?
If it is, I'm shocked.
I'd been preparing for it for a long time, reading up on it, trying to experience it through my characters. Never once had a thought come across my brainwashed mind that it might unnerve me.
But unnerve me it did. And not just unnerve. It killed me. I was unprepared, as unprepared as I was when I thought I was prepared, when in actual fact, I wasn't. This thing just hit me smack in the face, and I was slammed back onto the hard concrete, knocking myself out, unconscious. But still in this state of floating dreams, I dreamt of goodness. This love that bound me and my dreams into one weaved itself in and out of my head, so that I couldn't possibly want to be well again.
And when I tried to come to my senses time and again, I couldn't. I was simply trapped in this uncatchable state of mind - so much so that I couldn't escape, and I didn't seem to want to escape. It was painful, being holed up there without moving, without thinking how much I had sunk inside. And yet, it always brought a smile to my face and never failed to make me feel glad that I'd been knocked down there.
Pretty impossible, isn't it?
Well, in this floating space, nothing is. You can fall in love with the person who keeps coming back to tread on you and jump on you and step on you and enjoy it, and worst still, fall in deep enough that when you realise you're not supposed to be falling, you can't go back up.
Like falling down from the sky. Such a thrilling, enjoyable experience... until you remember that you're going to land down smack on the ground and crush your bones, but then you can't fly up anymore. You're just going down and down and down and when you are about to hit the earth, you wish you'd never jumped off the cloud. But yet, you can't bring yourself to regret the decision you made, which gave you so much happiness and yet, pain.
It's pretty sad love has to be like that. Especially if the ground you fall on is hard.
If it was soft, you would simply bounce off of it and both of you would jump up and together on earth. But if it's hard, you're just going to die. And worst still, while you're reaching the land, you actually start expecting what type of ground you fall on - if it's hard or soft, or in between. That's when your instincts kick in, but it's too late.
People say it's never too late. Whatever you get yourself into, you can get out of. But that's not always true. Not in this case.
Not when you fall in love with someone, when you know you shouldn't, and you're thinking and hoping the ground will be soft as the cloud you jumped off, but it isn't. And you can't even be mad with the earth, because you know it's your fault. It's your fault for wanting to get off the cloud. But also, if you hadn't got off it, it would still be your fault, because you wouldn't have known that the ground was hard.
Love's like that. That pain. That nice. That sad. That happy. That regretful. That sweet. That angry. That beautiful.

--Reflection; Love

Short Piece

2009-02-24T18:10:00.002+08:00

Hey guys. I just realised that I'm so busy that I didn't update for so long! I've just been tying some loose ends at school... and I still am. This is pretty much a never-ending process. :P So yeah, anyway, here's something for you guys. I wrote it when I attended a one-day writing workshop just recently. :D

Her small and petite frame cast long shadows before her as she ran with great speed and agility along the riverbank. The sun had created a beautiful backdrop and the sky now looked like a perfect work by a master artist - with its splatter of blue, orange, red and purple, along with specks of gold. I looked on; she was still running, but at a slower pace now. I didn't stop to think about it, but instead, observed my surroundings. A thick shrubbery enclosed me in its firm clutch, with little flowers among plenty of thorns. Small grains of sand stood below my feet and as my eyes raked over them, I noticed a family of hermits that had decided to shelter at my feet. I frowned and shoved them off, before tilting my head back up to look at her - gone. My eyebrows furrowed and instinctively, I looked up. To my large surprise, she was hanging from a branch above me! I caught the tiniest of a smirk before she swung down from the majestic tree and landed lightly before me, absorbing the impact on the balls of her feet. She took several slow, even, identical strides towards me confidently, calmly. Her slanted eyes watched me, unblinking. It was unnerving - my heart started pounding heavily. And then, just as I was about to run away, her small, pursed mouth opened and a fast trilling voice flowed out, like the river she had just been running by. "Who're you, boy?"

My hand was shaking, uncontrollably, and I blinked at a rapid pace. It seemed to me as if it was the "moment of truth" - to speak, or not to speak. My breath choked my throat and when I tried to talk, the words came out in a meaningless rasp, "I-I didn't mean to spy on you." I didn't know how she, or as a matter of fact, anyone, could hear me, and yet she did. Rather impossibly, those thin slits she called eyes started folding, almost until they ceased to exist. She was opening her mouth to interrogate me on my 'unintentional' spying when something hard suddenly hit me from behind. We both froze, and looked down at the object - or should I say, weapon. An orange. I frowned, and looked up at her again, beyond confused. I mean, who'd want to throw oranges at me? It took me half a second to register the shocked expression on her face, and just like that, we took off like a fast train pulling a carriage behind.

--Random Writing

**Sorry if it's not paragraphed; I'm kind of running for time :P**

Twilight Saga Adaptation (1)

2009-02-10T20:07:00.003+08:00

This was actually written quite a while back last year, after I first picked up the popular Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer. The books are copyrighted, obviously, and these are just adaptations that I wrote in all due respect to her as an amazing author, one of my favourites actually. This one is about Bella in Twilight when she was saved by Edward Cullen when he came roaring in his shiny, silver Volvo. What if it was twisted so that she knew martial arts and didn't need Edward's 'saving'? ;)

I was strutting around, trying to locate the bookshop. I had visited the library during my first week here in Forks, but it was so poorly stocked that I didn't even bother to get a card. I thought coming up to Port Angeles would solve the no-books-to-read problem, but apparently not. If the bookshop's so small that I can't even find it, then wouldn't it have a limited number of books? While I was trying to make sense of the map-the vocal one that Jessica had kindly provided me with-I caught several guys staring at me. They were hanging out in a huge gang, the kind that terrified me. One of them, who was wearing a black ensemble and a pair of dark tinted glasses, whistled and hooted when I passed. I rolled my eyes and continued. Not that my stomach didn't lurch in fear when I did that blase move. It very obviously did, to my utter embarrassment. At least no one knew that. I carried on with my search for the book store and rounded a corner when I couldn't see it. I was vaguely aware of the men following behind. Their less-than-quiet footsteps quickly gave them away. But I was in no hurry to rush; why would I when I could simply bash their noses into their heads? I kept on finding and looking and searching for the microscopic book store-that, I was now very sure, could not possibly have a steady supply of classics-but to no avail. The footsteps were close; the men were catching up. I quickened my pace habitually, only to realise when I rounded another corner, that I wasn't being followed. I was being ambushed-for lack of a better word. The group had dispatched and they were now forming a circle around me, watching my every move. I was a little afraid, but hurriedly pushed that thought away before it could show up on my face; I was certain that the sadistic boys-as they looked around my age-would laugh their heads off at my fear. I tensed, my muscles locked into place. They continued circling me, though it was less obvious now. They were obviously not going to let up. So... I recalled my practice with the sinseh masters-they had taught me how to fight. I could remember with perfect clarity and used it now. The first kick was aimed at the one nearest to me; I karate-chopped the second. The rest were taken down before I could even lay one finger on them-they were too scared that I knew how to fight. Hah! Cowards! Before I could throw a punch directly in the face-there was one more left-I was suddenly flung in the air. My head went abruptly dizzy as my back hit against the barbed fence. Thankfully, I caught myself by intertwining my fingers with the sharp wire before I could crumple into a heap on the ground. I immediately zoomed in on that one guy-he was extremely unlucky today.
I shrieked at him, beyond words. Nothing could express my anger right now-I was far too furious. Nobody hurt me, and my hair! His face looked a little frightened when I charged full-force at him; that sight didn't irk me like it should. Maybe I was sadistic too. But I lunged at him, twisting his right arm till I heard a snap. He cried out in agony while I smirked, taking a few steps back. That did it. He ran away, nursing his arm against his chest in a way that no man should ever use. I laughed blackly, watching him while he made his escape. A silver Volvo appeared on the empty road just a few seconds later. I skipped up to it and peered into the glass. There, staring back at me with eyes holding the depth of a dozen different emotions, was Edward sitting in the driver's seat. "Hop in," he suggested as I stood there, my feet firmly planted on the ground. How did Edward Cullen come here? How did he know I was here? Were the Quileute legends that Jacob had told me true? Was he really a vampire? A vegetarian vampire, at that-I corrected mentally. I finally settled on shock; it was most dominant on my face anyway. I opened the car door and slammed it shut after I got in. His leather seat was smooth; it smelled like honey-and-lilac too. I inhaled deeply, and then continued staring at him. He seemed to sense that I was waiting for him to start explaining, so he sighed. "Aren't you going to tell me what happened?" I frowned. "Isn't that my line?" He looked at me too, and then frowned deeply. "No, I'll explain during dinner. Now, it's your turn." Hmm, dinner. Not bad. I smiled a tiny bit at that idea, and then questioned, "What must I explain?" He rolled his eyes, as if expecting me to already understand his question. "You can fight?" I grinned at the surprise in his voice. "I'm not that girly, like you think I am. I know martial arts." Perhaps I was boasting a little. Okay, I admit, I was smug at that.

--Twilight

More Poems...

2009-02-03T15:28:00.003+08:00

I haven't really gotten down to writing much, so I'll just be putting up poems for the time being. Sorry about that. :P

Lies
Behind the secrets of my door
lie the specialty of my flaw
The determination to do something unsuccessful
And unrealistic, but eventful

The people I roped in to help me
Says to leave my flaw as it should be
For whoever knows it shall realise
The little monster controlling my lies

However much I want to destroy my badness
I still can't do it--I'll become breathless
The mere thought of erasing all my dreams
Makes it harder to do than it seems

The sheer difficulty of solving my problems
Make me want to jump out of my bottoms
And cry out loud and say I'm sorry
Finally forgiving myself for all my fake stories

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!

2009-01-26T11:16:00.001+08:00

Hey!

Happy Chinese New Year, ALL OF YOU!!

Here's me, wishing you a happy and prosperous Chinese New Year. :)

Remember to have fun!

Day And Night

2009-01-22T20:46:00.002+08:00

This is actually a POEM that I just recently wrote for a submission for a Poetry Writing Competition in my school. I based it off of a poem that I wrote a few days ago in my sketchbook, and it's dedicated to my godmother/aunty. :)

P.S. This version is the one for the competition--they're a little bit different. And if you don't know what the poem's about, I'll explain later on.

Rage-induced tears fill the sky.
What has he done and why?
Against the brokenness we defy.
Nothing sent can harm our lives.

Down by the palace garden lay I.
Here the cooling breeze blows by.
Birds of faith and hope take off and fly.
Settle down here even in the heart of night.

The wind blows by in the daylight.
Cheery clouds of love say 'hi'.
I hope and wish that there's no goodbye.
And the birds chirp merrily--now it's time.

The trial is passed with unending time.
It suffocates me so I can choke and die.
What would happen to the love of my life?
When it wasn't his mistake to take me and fly?

So after this journey where faith lies.
I hope you're not cowered, deep in fright.
For in every day, there's always night.
And yet in every dark, there's always light.

--Day And Night, Poetry

Did you like it? It's kind of inspired by a painting, which was the theme for the competition. I came up with this story about a girl eloping with a guy who is a commoner, and is therefore not allowed to be in love with the princess of the state. Now, they've been caught and he's sent for a trial. If you didn't understand the poem the first time, go back now and read it again. I thought I made sure to include subtle hints of the story in there. ;)

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 5

2009-01-21T17:34:00.002+08:00

So I've FINALLY got back to this. :)

By the way, this is really JUST a draft. I had to edit it a couple of times to get to this, and I don't even think this is going to be the final version. So if you find it a little different later on, I've already warned you. ;)

Chapter 5
Kevin
I knew I’d just asked a stupid question. The stupidest question anyone could ever ask, for she’d retracted and shook her head. It took a while before she spoke again, “No, I don’t.” I saw her try to make a joke out of everything, but sensed the tension in the air.
Nothing was a joke nowadays. Everything was so serious. Keri and I—so much more than just twins—were now torn, so much less than even what family should be like. My parents and I hardly ever speak. They think I’m in the teenage phase; where us boys don’t speak to them so-called ‘oldies’. Yes, they were right about most adolescents.
But not this one. Not me. I wasn’t normal. I was so different from that, damn it! But no one knew about this. No one understood my subtle signs of my abnormal self. No one.
Sometimes I felt alone, so ever alone. At others, I was angry. Why did it have to be me? Why did I have to be the one to hear what others could not? Why did my life have to be so affected by this ‘extra hearing’ of mine? Why couldn’t I just be normal?
All those days—those running around the backyard with Keri, receiving beatings and getting scolded by mother and father, trying to build a pond with proper, living fish in them... they were normal days. Days that any other person would have, albeit a little childish. Childish, but normal.
I had been living those days before, until I started ‘hearing’. It was muted, muffled at first, but over time, it had become more powerful—for lack of a better word. They started lasting longer, sounding more real till I couldn’t tell the difference between life and fantasy, becoming more frightening.
I didn’t want to live this kind of life. The life that I’d been living for two years now. I didn’t. Not anymore. It was hard, living like this. I’d had to tell alot of little, white lies to cover up my slips; I couldn’t tell anybody what was really going on with me, which caused the distance between my family, relatives and everyone else.
This ‘extra hearing’ affected my life so much I wished it to be gone! If it were in my hands right now, I would squeeze it and crush it and bury in under the earth so that it couldn’t victimise anyone else. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t.
Suddenly, the room was strangely illuminated. The three of us looked around, trying to find the source of light. I turned to the right and there, standing at the foot of the bed—or should I say floating at the foot of the bed—was a glowing lady.
Her inhuman beauty stunned and frightened me at the same time. Her long, thick, black hair cascaded down her back and she was draped in luxurious, gold silk. She was barefoot and floated about an inch above the wooden floor.
I turned to look at my sister’s reaction; she had frozen, sitting on the edge of the bed. Katie was next to her on the floor, still as a statue, open-mouthed. I heard the words before I saw her.
“Viewer,” the lady said as I twisted back to face her. She touched Katie’s shoulder and then, my cousin was illuminated too. The glowing light seemed to come from inside of her, instead of her getting wrapped in the same bright ball that enclosed the lady in it. I shivered slightly.
What was happening? Who was this woman? What did she do to Katie? Most importantly, what is she going to do to us? I didn’t realise that she was looking at me until I snapped out of my thoughts.
She was staring at me intently with her narrow, black eyes. I immediately looked down at my hands—they were sparkling as if my skin was encrusted with diamonds, hundreds and millions of tiny, embedded diamonds.
“Whisperer, be careful of what you think. They jump out at magical creatures like me,” the lady whispered, focusing her two black abysses on me. I frowned.
“Wh-what did you just call me?” I stammered.
What was a whisperer? What did she mean by ‘be careful of what I think’? And... she was a magical creature? Well, the latter was actually very obvious, but it was still harder to accept when she said it out loud.
She pursed her red, full lips and spoke, “I just called you the whisperer. A whisperer is somebody...” she paused, searching for the right words. “Somebody like you, but we’ll get to that later. And you must be careful of what you think, please. Whatever’s in your mind will be projected out to us magical people; it’ll be as if you’re speaking.”
Magical people. My thoughts will be projected. I was a... whisperer. Somehow, my subconscious knew that this creature had something to do with my ‘extra hearing’. Whisperer... I set that aside to question the lady later. She’d said that we would get to that, just not right now. Just then, she turned to Katie again.
“Viewer,” as soon she spoke, Katie was once again bathed in that golden light and my sparkling skin tingled, slowly returning to its original, pale pallor,
“I’ll give you something which you’ll find very useful later on, but you cannot use it now. Not now, not tomorrow. Only when you’re in absolute danger, understand?” She stressed the last few words, deadly serious.
After Katie nodded—and some intent staring—she finally took something out from one of the delicate folds in her robe. I blinked through the brightness, trying to catch a glimpse of it. When she passed it to Katie, I managed to see what it was. A box. A tiny, gleaming box that couldn’t possibly hold anything else besides air. It fit snugly into Katie’s palm. She studied the box carefully while the lady moved onto Keri.
I didn’t even reach out to stop her when she touched my sister’s shoulder as she did to Katie; at this point, I was void of feelings. My entire mind and body was numb and I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t even form coherent sentences.
The lady said gently to my glowing twin, “Walker, you are the leader of the three of you. You will take on the responsibility and do your job to the best you can. Now, I’ll give you something as well.”
With that, she reached into another fold and pressed it into Keri’s hand. It was a book. A book as tiny as the box. Huh. The creature turned to glare at me and I shrunk back a little. She was frightening.
She advanced towards me, her feet never touching the floor, and said in my face, “As for you, I’ve already given you something.” My mind reeled. She did? What did she give? Of course, besides fear and words. Her eyes narrowed even more until they looked like shrivelled leaves and she turned and swept back to her original position.
“Remember, viewer, walker and whisperer, you must all stay safe. There will be several distractions and you will definitely meet temptations on the way. Steer clear of such evil stuff. And your guide will come to you in a while; he’ll be teaching you all that you need to know. Listen to him—he knows. And never will your power away.” She was glaring at me as she said that. Blood rushed to my cheeks. “And don’t forget to stay together.”
That was our parting command as she went away as quickly as she’d come, disappearing in a booming flash of light. I blinked rapidly.
Had everything just been a bad dream? Or had she really come? But there wasn’t really magic in the world, was there? Well, a part of my reasoned, there wasn’t such things as ‘extra hearing’ either. I put my head in my hands and grunted.
What was wrong? Why was my life so complicated? Unless, of course, every man walking about the street had once been as confused as I am right now, what with a visit from an inhuman creature and an ability to ‘hear’ what others can’t. But I was a hundred per cent certain that I was the only one.
But the fact that Katie and Keri were as freakish as I am comforted me some. Though, really, what was wrong with the three of us? Nobody said anything for five minutes, until my mother called, “Keri! Kevin! Come on down!”

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

More Random Writing

2009-01-16T18:10:00.003+08:00

I'm assuming you've all heard that one of the Project Blook writers has been offered a publishing contract. If not, WOW. Isn't that GREAT?! I know that she/he's not exactly reading or going to read this, but I just want to wish her a very happy, sincere CONGRATULATIONS! I'm sure she's rejoicing right now. :DD Anyway, on to my writing, I'm going to keep on posting random writing pieces that I've done a way back into last year because I don't have time to SERIOUSLY write, though I'm planning to over the weekend, so please, just bear with me for Never Been Loved and Viewer, Walker, Whisperer right now. Thank you!

I kept up with my steady pace as I walked to school. Squelch, squelch, squelch. The sound of my favourite pair of wellingtons’ rubber soles making contact with the stony wet pavement repeated itself over and over.
I sighed and clutched the straps of my canvas haversack while continuing the pattern. This was simply another average day during which I would go to school and back, then preferably grab a bite to eat with one of my friends at Groove, before heading down to one of the local clubs for fun.
So normal, so repetitive. Frankly speaking, I hadn’t actually expected much more.
Yes, I admit, I’m one of those girls that read countless of books on magical heroines and wished that I could possibly be in the shoes of one of them. Day after day, I’d raise my hopes as I watched the sun rise from behind the puffy white clouds. Morning after morning, I’d willed myself the positivity that after all this waiting, that today would be the day I could be one of them.
But not anymore. My dreams had been dashed with the constant daily rejection. It made me want to cry when I finally woke up from my daydreams and realised that I would never be the person I’d always wanted to be. That I would just have to live a perfectly normal life, like any other human.
Nothing could go differently. No unexpected twists and turns. But of course, I didn’t actually give all this away. To anyone else, I was simply an extremely cool and popular girl at my school. That I was void of any other emotions besides just being a somebody in this place. That I was already the best I could be. That I could be nothing else but this body carrying out its daily routines, without its soul present.
But on the inside, it was a raging battle. A battle between hope and normality. Of course people would usually choose hope and live out their dreams just like who they wanted to be. They were the lucky ones. But I wasn’t so lucky.
So far, the scale was tipping towards normality instead. I exhaled sharply when I came face to face with a grey dullish-looking building.
My school.
I put on my hard mask, sucked in a deep breath and entered through the double doors. They creaked, obviously not oiled at the hinges. I pushed my way through the throng of closely packed bodies and headed for the black door which led to the lab.
Apparently, I had arrived just on time. The crowd of students in hippie outfits jostling past each other to get to their classes on time gave enough proof. I rushed into the lab room and settled into my seat. Next thing I knew, a girl wearing all black and dark make-up appeared next to me.
“Hey Amber,” I greeted while taking out all my stuff and placing them neatly on the black-top table. She didn’t seem to hear me though. She just kept walking, zoned out, to her seat two tables behind me.
My eyebrows knitted together into a frown, but Mr. Jones walked in just then, so I simply shook it off. She was probably just tired, since I’ve heard that she goes to bed only three hours before school started.
Today was just like any other day. Mr. Jones started droning on and on about some silly frog dissection that we would be doing the very next day, much to my utter disgust. I mean, why would people even want to dissect live frogs? Unless they were seriously that sadistic, obviously.
But at least I’d gotten away with no assignments to complete-which was pretty much a first since Mr. Jones loved dishing away what he calls ‘pleasant presents’. I hadn’t actually paid much attention (since when did I pay attention anyway?) and instead, spent the hour and a half doodling on the cover of my biology textbook.
Meanwhile, I sat there thinking of colours to use for my pointless cartoons when I suddenly came across the colour black, which instantaneously led me to ever-burning curiosity of mine.
I liked to ask questions. A lot.
So I’d always pondered about one of my friends-Amber, that is-who was in fact, a goth. I didn’t even know why she’d decided to be a goth. I mean, isn’t a girl dressed up in a cool shirt, jeans and sneakers good enough for her?
Plus all the dark make-up and once, I’d even visited her house and I’d ended up with spooky nightmares when I fell asleep. I didn’t get why she’d done up her place like that! Yeah, her parents might have allowed her to since they hardly cared what she did anyway, but still, that wasn’t a good enough reason for me. Who in the right mind-exclusive of Amber, of course-would actually paint everything in the house black, get furniture that screams ‘creepy’ and leave loads of freaky ‘I’m-watching-you’ ornaments lying around?
That’s just insane, more so because she was named after a happy colour! Amber! Think about that. It’s illogical! I broke out of my daylight reverie as soon as I heard the distant calling of my name.
“Lucy!” Snapping out of it, immediately blinked my eyes-the recipe for returning your soul back to Earth-and saw a group of familiar-looking girls staring down at me.
“What?” The girl in front-Miranda-put her hands on her hip and flipped her strawberry blonde hair back behind her shoulders.
“You were just staring into black space, Lucy. I can’t believe you!” I blinked again, then quickly ran through the day’s schedule in my mind. Let’s see, get to biology, skip double English classes with the girls, sneak out of- wait, skip double English classes?
“Oh, right, my bad. Let’s get going,” I apologized-my voice was layered with guilty implications-while grabbing my leather handbag. The nine of us strode down the hallway, our heels scraping the unpolished floor.
I didn’t actually want to skip double English. It was just that, I’d agreed on impulse yesterday. I hadn’t meant it. I didn’t think twice, that was all. But there is no such thing as making a mistake in the social scene. It’s either you’re in or you’re out. One little error could propel you to the fiery, cursed pit of Hades.
Well, I must say I am pretty popular. But I never knew what was going to happen tomorrow, right? So of course, it was only proper for me to prepare myself and do everything it takes to stay put in my current position, or even better yet, to climb even higher up the social ladder.
After all, I had begun to lose hope in the whole magic thing and my heroine dream had mostly faded away. What else could I lose in this life? The only available thing left is to try and splash different colours into my otherwise dull world by being popular. Try.
So I’d succumbed to the vulnerability of hanging out with the most popular people of each social circle. The Goths, the cheerleaders (which I was going with, in this case), the jocks and possibly even the nerds. That was the least I could do.
“So, where will we be crashing?” I asked nonchalantly, acting as if skipping school was typical. I was, in actual fact, so used to all this pretence already that I didn’t even had to try to keep up with it. It just came naturally. Like breathing.
It was second nature to me, really. All I had to do was to hide my feelings, put on an excellent poker face and do a completely believable voiceover. Easier said than done.
But all those times of hard work and I guess what you could call practice paid off, honing my skills such that I was now a fake. But everybody would be able to pull off such an impressive feat, if you’d been given the ten-year opportunity of learning like I had.
“Oh, we’ll be going to Crackle and Boom,” Natasha answered.
Highly expected. Crackle and Boom was one of the pubs in town with the highest criminal activity, though only people in on this secret would know. I couldn’t understand how I had actually thought our destination was Groove. Groove was too much of a goody club for youngsters.
Now, Crackle and Boom was the real thing. Unspoken words told me that there would be a substantial amount of booze, drugs and definitely smoking involved. I sighed internally.
Great.
I hadn’t always been a big fan of such stuff, just that I had to keep up my image, of course. So instead of turning around and heading back to school like a true heroine would, I nodded and plastered on an ‘I-know-what-we’re-going-to-do-and-I-love-it’ smile.
We were walking up as a huge group consisting of ten chicks, if I do say so myself, and I was fairly sure the pub owner wouldn’t at all mind letting us in, even though we were under the age limit by approximately three years.
Besides, wearing these heels make us look taller for our age, and we got the advantage there, especially since Miranda-the representation of a school slut-with us. I saw her furiously whispering to the owner, who kept staring down at her chest the whole time, and just as we were about to clink in with our heels, I vaguely saw a distressed Amber peeking from around the corner.
Her face was half hidden behind her thick curtain of chocolate brown curls, but I could still see her expression clearly. Those lips, the corners of her mouth pulled down in a distasteful, grim frown. Those eyebrows, pushed so closely together that they almost formed a line across her crinkled forehead. Those cheeks, flushing crimson with what possibly looked like the consequences of a sprint. Those eyes...
I didn’t even know how to describe them. They looked so void, so empty of any other emotions other than that which screamed help all over. Her face crumpled in pain, so much so that she didn’t even look like the confident Amber that I knew so well.
Even her ‘I-don’t-care-what-you-think-cos’-you-don’t-matter’ attitude wasn’t even there anymore. It was just her, plain, old, vulnerable Amber. The Amber that I had grown to love so much before. The Amber that had once been my very best friend, before she transformed into some weird, freaky goth girl. The Amber that I knew I must help no matter what.
She saw me shuffle into the pub and quickly left before Michelle could spot her when she realised that I had been staring at her for too long.
“What is it?” Michelle demanded crudely. I gave one last sweeping glance at the traces of Amber, before turning back to face her.
“Oh, nothing. Just the scruffy old neighbourhood cat. He doesn’t ever seem to stop looking so ugly, does he?” I faked a scornful voice. I knew that this was the perfect remedy to keep Michelle from probing into my business since she always launched into how she hated cats after any remark about any one of them. I blinked and as I walked into the pub, I made a firm decision to go meet with Amber later on. Whatever trouble was going on with her was definitely going to be my trouble too.
I stepped into the pub, faking a lopsided grin and swung my hips flirtatiously, as if they were made of rubber. I thought that’s what we were supposed to do, anyway, so I did.
As soon as I had entered the pub, I gazed at everything in undeniable awe, and probably even gasped silently. The setting wasn’t at all like I had expected.
Instead of boring old silver tables where you’d usually settle down with your drinks like at Groove, almost the entire pub was taken up by a really cool dance floor. The glass tiles repeatedly changed colours from hot pink to lime green and hordes of people were out there dancing wildly as if there was no tomorrow.
Flashlights beamed fluorescent light from above and coupled with the possibly hyperactive dancers, the party atmosphere was most definitely euphoric.

--Random Writing

Firebird Extract

2009-01-11T14:22:00.002+08:00

I'm actually considering this extract for one of my extended stories (Firebird), but of course there's a better, extended version which I'm not posting JUST YET. Just savour this for now. ;)

I watched on, as he dived-his back arched perfectly-into the dark, murky water. I almost leaped to my feet, worried that he would be swept away by the strong currents. No. I had to have faith in him. Faith in that silly-headed Calvin. I suppressed laughter as I remembered the reason for his dive into the sea.
“I’m going to get you that necklace if it’s the last thing I do. No, scratch that. I’m just going to get you the accessory. I wouldn’t die.”
Haha. What an airheaded fool he was. He actually believed that he wouldn’t perhaps drown in the water!
But as if he was contradicting me, even in the sea, I suddenly saw a black figure rising from the bottom of the ocean. It leaped over the rippling waves, weaving a graceful silhouette as alike to the image of beautiful embroidery on silk. Its powerful arms cut through the water, as sharp as a knife. And then, as I sat there admiring this strong creature, Calvin came up to me.
He shook his shaggy black hair; droplets of saltwater splashed everywhere. I leaned away from him, loud peals of laughter echoing around the cave. I noticed, then, that in his hands was a luminous string; it glowed eerily in the darkness.
I gasped in shock. So he had been able to retrieve my necklace! He saw the awed expression on my face and smirked.
“I told you so,” he sniggered as he sat down on another steady rock not too far from me. I held my hand out, not very much bothering about the boastfulness in his tone-I would leave that till after my inspection, I thought-and instead, on the luminous pile before me.
He grinned and dropped it into my waiting palm. I looked closely at the pearl necklace. Yes, indeed. It was lovely. And most of all, it was genuine. I could tell the difference between real and fake jewellery. It was easy to spot with such trained eyes as mine. Calvin arched a wet eyebrow in response to my gloating expression.
“Hmm,” I trailed off, not wanting him to know how much I really thanked him for the priceless gift that he had given me. You know how boys can get-one little compliment and their heads swell to the size of a giant globe!
“Yes?” He prompted me. I shook my head, as if I could shake away all of my thoughts with it. “I-I can’t tell you how grateful I am, and I,” I paused there; my throat had choked with the gratitude, and the climax of the emotions I was feeling. So much for keeping it under control, I managed sarcastically.
But Calvin seemed to understand, though. He simply smiled and dipped his head a tiny fraction, giving his welcome. I sighed with a tingly feeling that I couldn’t describe and looked out at the night sky dotted with stars.
It all looked so amazingly beautiful. So unreal. So... mystical-like. The wind whipped at my hair, caressing my rosy cheeks. I shivered; Calvin immediately draped a coat around me. I turned my head to face him impulsively and regretted it a second later. My hair was flying-practically-everywhere, stinging my eyes.
He laughed as I listened in wonder to the velvet folds of his voice-I was lost pathetically in them.
“You look like a freak with lashing hair, Vanessa.” That teasing insult jerked me out of my daydream. I scowled back at him.
“Don’t take it to heart, ‘Nessa. You know, you’ve got to learn how to joke around more often. Let go of the negative vibes. I’ve heard that’s what yoga is for.” I rolled my eyes and faced the opening of the cave once more.

--Firebird

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 4

2009-01-08T20:04:00.001+08:00

I'm quite busy nowadays, so I probably won't be posting as often as I did during the holidays. Please bear with me--that will be greatly appreciated. :)

Chapter 4
Keri
I flopped down on my bed and closed my eyes. What was she thinking? Accepting her sister’s invitation to visit them for no reason at all just as my dreams had been stimulated again.
Okay, I know I’m being unreasonable, but I couldn’t help it. Life was a whirlpool of stress. I didn’t know where the source of my dreams were, but they’re getting out of control! I dreaded the day when I would become flecked in snow after waking up; I definitely wouldn’t be surprised.
Someone knocked at the door. I sighed and said out loud, “Come in.” Mother opened the door, her head peering around the wooden frame, and walked over to me when she spotted me lying down on the bed. I shifted over a little bit to give her some room to sit next to me.
“Honey, it’s dinner time. We have a long day tomorrow, what with visiting Aunty Mary-‘ I cut her off.
“Why are we visiting her anyway? Unless there’s some unheard of special occasion.” The tone in my voice was sarcastic; I knew for sure that there was nothing going on tomorrow. She placed both her hands on my shoulders.
“This isn’t the time to be difficult, Keri. Please.” She begged. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest. I wasn’t being difficult! Any normal teenage girl would have the same reactions as I have, even if she didn’t wake up from her sleep with snow under her finger nails!
But I answered, “I know, I know. I’ll go to sleep early; I’m not hungry.” Mother persisted, “But you have to eat, Keri-“ I glared at her and she immediately kept quiet.
A moment of silence passed. Finally, she got up and tucked me in, kissing my forehead. Tears welled up at the back of my eyes. Too bad her daughter had to be so imperfect. Too bad she had to deal with not knowing her daughter’s biggest secret. Too bad I was her daughter.
**
I sucked in a deep breath as my mother reached out to press the doorbell. This was it. I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t fall asleep.
I heard echoes inside the house and a girl—who sounded about my age—shouted, “I’ll get it!” Then, several tumbles and yells later, the door opened.
Katie stood there in the doorway, hair wild and flying. She was panting heavily. Did she run a marathon before coming or something? She grinned, but I saw that her eyes were untouched. “Hey.”
No one said anything after that. It was becoming a little bit awkward until a thin, bustling woman came to the door, hurrying us in.
“Come on, have a seat. Be comfortable, my darlings,” she said joyously, but somewhat stressfully. I saw a glare pass between her and my cousin and quickly sat down on the armchair next to the sofa. Why did they have so many seats if the two of them lived alone?
But of course, I didn’t dare ask that question. Why attract attention to yourself unnecessarily? Especially if you had some super power to get snow all of yourself.
My father cleared his throat and gave me a ‘do what you’re supposed to’ look. I rolled my eyes. What I was supposed to do was stay in Katie’s room with Kevin until they called us down.
“Um, can we see your room, Katie?” Katie hesitated, then blinked slowly. “Yeah, sure.” She smiled, though she didn’t look comfortable with that option.
Both me and Kevin went upstairs and into her room.
It was still the same—the pink wallpaper with unicorns rode by princesses on it. The furniture didn’t change either. In fact, everything still remained very much the same besides a couple furniture shifts. Except, of course, her one dresser that Kevin and I had accidentally broken two years ago.
I’d hoped she had forgotten that incident, but now, as we entered the room, I wasn’t so sure. All of her furniture had been chained; she looked a little embarrassed at that. I grinned encouragingly and she raised her chin, looking me in the eye. Yes, she hadn’t forgotten.
I sighed silently and walked towards her bed. She raised her arms out and I raised an eyebrow. “Um, can I sit?” Her voice was resigned when she spoke, “Go ahead.”
Kevin looked around the room, smirking. I had no idea for what, but it annoyed me thoroughly. Wasn’t it bad enough that he had to ignore me at school for some stupid reason that even I didn’t know of? Did he have to be so proud all the time?
I was suddenly so sick and tired of everything! Why did we have to come here? What the heck did my parents want that had to involve my cousin? Why had all of us grown so much that nothing was ever complete without the awkwardness anymore? Why, why, why?
All these questions, running through my head, answer-less. And I couldn’t possibly expect anyone to be able to actually answer them; these weren’t questions my parents or, in fact, any adult would be able to reply to with the usual ‘Google it, honey’.
A simple Google search couldn’t fix everything—damn, it couldn’t even fix anything! I sighed again. Just then, Kevin piped up, “So, you still like unicorns?”

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 3

2009-01-01T15:24:00.001+08:00

**Warning: This chapter is still under severe editing; the base of this chapter can change at any time without warning**

I wrapped my arms tightly around my legs in a huddle, shivering uncontrollably. I couldn’t help it. Everything was changing. My whole world was falling apart, literally! And I couldn’t do anything about it!
I thought back to this morning; I’d woken up as per normal, prepped myself for school, but just as I was about to walk downstairs, it started.
The visions. They kept coming to me, blocking my sight. I paused in the middle of the doorway. It was as if I had suddenly been transported into another world, instead of my own, comfortable one. The images wrapped themselves around my head so that they were all I could see.
Huge ice bears and men riding on stallions. Charging pixies and elves with pointed ears. All of them seemed to be at war with each other; spears were drawn and swords were wielded. Magical shields protected magical soldiers. And each one of them wore the same, identical metallic sheen over their torso, something I’d thought resembled a bullet-proof ensemble.
Then, to add to the commotion, the ones with the pointed ears started playing a lute—a lute that I had never once seen in my life before. But I couldn’t hear anything; albeit I could see. The lute sent out dangerous ripples that instantly killed everyone else except those with the sheens—whom I’d supposed belonged to the same opposition.
Just when I’d thought everything was over, another army started marching in and took the place of all those that were destroyed by the lute. The commando of the opposition—the one in purple, sitting on the scary-looking ice bear—started instructing his troops, though I couldn’t quite confirm what he was shouting about in the sleeting wind and ice for I could only see, but couldn’t hear.
All of a sudden, I was shaken back to reality by my mother; she was staring at me with concerned, brown eyes. “Honey, are you alright?” I blinked; no more ice bears, magical lutes and metallic sheens could be seen, only her. I looked up at her and felt suddenly alone.
I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t possibly explain to her all that I saw that I was sure others couldn’t see. Not only would she not believe me, I would also have laid my burden upon her frail shoulders. She wouldn’t be able to handle it. She wouldn’t be able to handle the fact that her only child could see the impossible. She wouldn’t. I couldn’t make her.
So I’d coughed and wheezed and tried my very best to look faint. “Mother,” an empty cough, “I think I’m sick,” a lying wheeze, “Can I not go to school today?” Another fake cough to complete my ‘I’m sick’ image.
She led me to my bed and I laid down on it gently, as if I were dizzy. She tucked me in and sat down next to me. In that instant, she looked twice her age with all the stress and responsibility she had to take on.
I suddenly felt guilty. Maybe I should have just told her that I was fine and continued on my way to school, like I did back when I first had the visions when I was ten. But a part of me argued: ‘You know that’s wrong, Katie. Everything’s not fine, and you have no right to pretend that everything’s fine.’ I sighed quietly as my mother kissed my forehead and went out of the room, closing the door behind her.
That was what had happened. That was why I was lying here on my bed instead of having lunch in school. That was why I was so afraid.
I put a hand over my face. Why was I having all these visions? Why did I have to be only one who sees everything that happened only in fantasies? Why couldn’t I just be normal?
**
It was six in the evening when my mother returned back from work. I heard the front door creak open and shut silently; mother must’ve thought I was asleep and didn’t want to wake me up.
I smiled at that thought. Mother took so much care of me, even though I reminded her of father so much. She’d said that before, back when I was a little kid and father was still alive.
I still remembered her exact words. “You look just like your father, Thomas, you know that?” She said lovingly, pinching my nose. I squirmed and squealed and her face lit up.
Oh, how I missed those days. I wished that my father was still alive, that everything would go back to normal and that this was all just a terrifying nightmare.
But I knew—with everything in me—that that wouldn’t happen. Father was dead, killed by a ruthless hit-and-run; Mother was weak and aging; I was seeing things, hallucinating. None of that would change, as much as I wanted them to.
Suddenly, the door opened slightly and my heart gave a shocked squeeze. I immediately closed my eyes; Mother walked towards me. She sat down, and gently shook me. I let out a tiny snore to make my ‘sleeping’ more believable. But my mother shook me a little harder.
I yawned and my eyelids fluttered open; if mother hadn’t been so experienced at parenthood, she probably would have fallen for my ‘sleeping’ act. When she saw that I had ‘woken up’, she wrinkled her nose and smirked a little bit. I rolled my eyes and sat up.
“So, how have you been?” She asked. Her voice sounded tired; it must’ve been a busy day at the office.
“I’ve been good, what about you?” I replied. She sighed and looked down at her hands. I frowned.
“Is something wrong, mother?” She shook her head.
“No, no, just tired, that’s all. Work was,” she paused, searching for the right word, “busy.”
After that, we lapsed into an awkward silence. None of us knew—or dared—what to say. It hadn’t been like this before. We used to talk about life, all our problems; we used to be so close. But ever since I turned ten and started hallucinating—for lack of a better word—we grew distant. I wouldn’t talk about what was wrong, and after a while, she just gave up, resigning to the only possibility that her daughter has grown up.
Which, in fact, she hasn’t. Well, not yet, anyway. Mother got up and left the room, muttering a simple ‘dinner’s ready’ before she closed the door behind her. I sighed. What could I ever do to get us closer again?
**
I walked downstairs after another five minutes of staring into blank space, thinking about nothing, sprawled out on my bed with sea-blue sheets. Seating myself at the dining table, I noticed that mother hadn’t bothered to cook today. Instead, several take-out cartons of noodles sat waiting on the table, reeking of extra salt and oil.
My nose crinkled a tiny bit—but I knew mother noticed; she always did—and I scooped out the noodles onto my plate. I hadn’t eaten anything throughout the entire day—I had just been lying down in my bedroom, pondering over possible causes for my ‘visions’—and so I was ravenous. After dishing out two portions for myself—and ignoring my mother’s arched eyebrow—I dug in.
Halfway through my meal, mother cleared her throat, like she always did when she wanted to get people’s attention. I looked up at her, a noodle strand dangling down the side of my mouth. She stared back at me with her wrinkled face.
“Katie, I just wanted to tell you that your cousins will be coming.” I gaped at her, open-mouthed. My cousins?
“You mean, Keri and Kevin?” My voice sounded droopy and old, even older than my mother’s.
“Yes,” I could see that she was being careful with me on this subject. After all, I wasn’t actually fond of my cousins—my mother’s nephew and niece. But I couldn’t care less about my liking—or rather, disliking—for them right now.
The most important issue that I had to deal with was my visions. What if I had a vision while they were over? Wouldn’t they think I was a freak? And I’ll probably just embarrass mother!
That firmed up my decision and I spoke with precision, “I’ll be in my room on that day.” She put her hand over her face, sighing.
“Katie, please, don’t be so difficult.” My eyes narrowed. Difficult? I wasn’t stopping her from inviting my cousins over. Just that I wouldn’t be a part of it, that’s all.
She could tell what I was thinking from the look on my face. “They will be flying over to Hawaii for year-end holidays. That’s a week from now and tomorrow’s the only day I’m free for them to come over.” Wait, tomorrow?
“I just want to see them before they go to Hawaii, Katie. We used to do this, remember? They would always come to visit us before flying off.” I knew that. I could remember so clearly. The last time they’d come to visit was two years ago. The year they’d broke my dresser. The year I’d gotten my visions. How could I ever forget?
I simply continued staring, open-mouthed. I had no idea what to say. My mother could sense that, for she took my hand in both of hers and cradled it.
“Katie, just be accommodating this one time. Keri and Kevin will be up with you in your room while the three of us are downstairs. They don’t yet know about this whole thing. Aunty Suzanne is planning to tell them while they’re over. It’s meant to be a surprise, so you’re not supposed to tell them.” She stressed the last few words and I found myself nodding. If it meant so much to her, why shouldn’t I do it?
“Fine, but it’s only because you asked me. And if they break another one of my dressers, I’m not going to care anymore, got that?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t take it back. She sighed and let go of my hand, leaning back on her seat. “Okay.”
I got up to wash the plates, all the while processing what my mother had just told me. Keri and Kevin were coming over, and neither of them had any idea that they would be going on a surprise holiday to Hawaii. And I wouldn’t be the one to break the news to them either.
They were going to be up in my room, and we were going to playing or talking or whatever they planned to do—except play with my stuff. Just thinking about it made me want to rush back into my bedroom and lock and bolt the door shut.
But I’d already made a verbal promise to my mother, and Katie Owen never makes empty promises. Just before I made my way upstairs to go to bed, I heard my mother say something along the lines of ‘they’re coming tomorrow’. Ugh.

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 2

2009-01-01T15:16:00.005+08:00

Chapter 2
Kevin
I truly felt like kicking myself! The expression that I had seen on her face—my own little sister’s face!—killed me, if looks could kill. She was upset; damn, I knew she was upset!
But I couldn’t speak to her, not like we used to. I could tell that she had been thinking back to the past, the past that rightfully should have existed. A past that was destroyed by the present.
“Hey, brother!” I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to look at the person who’d called me. Calvin was tall and muscular; all the girls in school fancied him. And this was the exact reason why I couldn’t speak to Keri. Why I had to ignore her.
It wasn’t just because of my ‘extra hearing’, but it was also because Calvin was the leader of our gang. Our gang—the most popular one in school. Our gang that didn’t talk to—considered—nerdy, geeky people. Our gang that pretended Keri ceased to exist.
I had wanted so badly to be included in this gang since pre-school! (Fine, exaggeration) I knew it was unfair to Keri, but I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to be in this so much it hurt!
Somebody shook me and I frowned. “What is it, man?” “Dude, you okay? You’ve been like, in a trance since we met at the bus stop,” Nix said.
He was someone alike to the ‘beta’ in the gang—second to the leader. His name was really Nicholas, but Calvin had thought that it was too girly for the gang, so shortened it to Nix.
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, feigning tiredness. “I’m fine, man.” Nix nodded and went back to his seat just as the professor came in.
As we greeted the bald, old man, I saw—out of the corner of my eye—Keri looked at me with a mournful face. She didn’t know how much that affected me.
**
It was in-between classes that it happened again. That stupid, unwanted ‘extra hearing’ of mine piped up.
I was walking down the hallway with the rest of my gang when suddenly, I was engulfed in pitch blackness. I stopped, as I knew to do. I guess I’m a little ‘experienced’ in this, but I still couldn’t control when and where I wanted to ‘hear’—if I even wanted to ‘hear’ at all, which the answer was a definite no!
A man’s voice seeped into my thoughts and blocked out everything else, as I knew it would.
“Creatures of the night
Build upon the fright
Of everyone they fight
Who immediately loses sight
Attack to your fullest
Never spare a life
For if you give mercy
You’ll be speared with my knife
Everyone get ready
Time to war steady
Nothing can stand in our way
We’ll always see the light of day”
The stanzas repeated themselves in my head, spoken by the same, husky voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to a human. I couldn’t seem to think of anything else except those words.
Determination, strength, pride and sureness were found in the said poem. I found it—the inhuman poem—engraved into my mind even after my vision became unblocked and I could see the worried faces of my gang crowding around me.
“Are you okay, man? You just stood there in the centre blocking everybody else for ten full minutes!” Max yelled at me.
I shook my head, freeing the words for the moment. I knew enough to know that they would return later on to haunt me throughout the night. I shuddered ever-so-slightly at the thought.
“Um, yeah. I’m fine. Just stalling to get to class,” I explained lamely. My ‘brothers’ looked relieved and seemed pretty satisfied with my answer. I was only vaguely aware that Calvin had told us to take a day off and everyone else whooping and cheering and rushing towards the school exit enthusiastically.
My body went through the same motions as it normally did, but my mind didn’t. In that moment, everything had seemed so real I almost couldn’t distinguish what my ‘extra hearing’ was and what wasn’t. It hadn’t been like this before; the intensity of it all frightened me. And what did that poem mean?
“Creatures of the night
Build upon the fright
Of everyone they fight
Who immediately loses sight
Attack to your fullest
Never spare a life
For if you give mercy
You’ll be speared with my knife
Everyone get ready
Time to war steady
Nothing can stand in our way
We’ll always see the light of day”

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

Viewer, Walker, Whisperer Chapter 1

2009-01-01T15:14:00.003+08:00

This is a story that I wrote for my mother, and I've just decided to post it for fun. :)

P.S. The title 'Viewer, Walker, Whisperer' isn't actually the name of the story. It's currently untitled.

Chapter 1
Keri
The ice bear growled ferociously. I shivered, and I had great suspicions that this wasn’t due to the sleet of ice that had just blanketed me and the surrounding bushes.
“Charge!” A command was all it took for the war to start. Armies of well-equipped soldiers fighting against each other. Men on stallions wielding their swords. The two commandos were riding on ice bears; I wondered how they dared to.
I was so intent on watching them that I jumped and shrieked when a silver horse slammed into the little, straw hut next to me. My heart was palpitating.
Did anyone hear my scream? If they did, what would they do when they found me hiding insanely behind these bushes? Would they take pity on this little girl that was barely half of their age? Or are they unknown to mercy?
I kept my eyes warily on the soldiers closest to me; they were still fighting. It was as if nobody had heard my scream—the loudest scream I’d screamed until now.
Was it because they’d been too engrossed in piercing each others’ spears through their enemies’ hearts? Or maybe they had mistaken my shriek to be one that was in the path of death?
I considered all these possibilities, but none of them seemed to make any sense to me.
What if they hadn’t heard me because to them, I ceased to exist? I shuddered away from that possibility. Such things just didn’t happen, not in real life anyway. Only in fairytales, I reminded myself. Only in fairytales. Only in fairytales.
Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder and my breath caught in my throat. Maybe they had heard my scream and was trying to find me. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. I was trapped now...
**
“Keri! Keri!”
Wait, how did the soldier know my name?
“Keri Hilton, you’d better wake up now!” The soldier shook me again, with more intensity this time. Wake up? I wasn’t asleep! I was in some place covered with snow that I didn’t even know existed!
“You have to go to school, Keri!” He shouted in my ear and, without warning, I jerked out from behind the bushes and back into my warm, familiar bedroom.
I sat up, panting. Beads of sweat were running down my forehead, dripping to my chin. My brother stood before me, a frustrated look on his face.
“Finally, you’re up!” He threw his hands in the air melodramatically and stormed out of the room, as if it contained some contagious disease that he didn’t want to get infected with.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, lying back down on my furry pink pillows. I blinked rapidly, tired, but not daring to go back to sleep.
It was getting worse and worse. The dreams. They were now more real than ever, as if I were really there, wherever my sleep took me, that is. I was so fearful that one day I would wake up, and wouldn’t be facing this room anymore. And I wouldn’t even know how to come back!
I put my hand over my face and inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself. Relax, Keri, relax. All you have to do is tell somebody. But despite my efforts to calm myself down, I simply couldn’t.
I knew that I couldn’t tell anybody! I had tried before, back when I was ten—and I am twelve now—and nobody listened! They had all thought that I was simply neglected and was trying to gain some attention. They didn’t even bother to listen to me! I groaned. What made me think that they would listen to me now?
“Keri!” My brother yelled from downstairs and I immediately got up, my long, black hair cascading down my back. No matter. I would just pretend that this snow-capped dream hadn’t even taken place, as I usually did.
After prepping myself for school, I grabbed my black-and-white satchel and hurried down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. As usual.
I seated myself next to my brother and, after muttering a good morning, started scooping out the syrup to pour all over my pancakes. Kevin twisted around in his seat to face me and spoke in an annoyed tone, “What took you so long?”
My mind pondered over the vast number of replies I could give. Could I possibly say: oh, I was just thinking about how I travel in my sleep? Or maybe how I got melted snow in my hair this morning, like every other day upon waking up?
In the end, I simply replied, “You know, stuff.” He rolled his blue eyes and turned back to watch the news. I sighed internally, stuffing pancakes into my mouth roughly.
Why was it so hard to communicate with him nowadays? I used to be able to tell him everything! We were twins; the best of friends! I thought back to the days when we used to run around together in the garden, chase butterflies from the flowers; talk about anything and everything... Oh, how I missed those times!
But we slowly grew apart when all those dreams started. I was conservative; he was conservative. Actually, now that I think about it, he was acting almost as strange as I was when we were ten. He always gave one-word answers during the two months when my dreams had begun. He didn’t talk much either, which was odd, due to the fact that he had been the most talkative one in class.
I broke out of my daylight reverie when Mother came over to take my plate and put it in the dishwasher. “Come on, time to go to school,” Kevin said curtly. I placed the straps of my satchel on both of my shoulders firmly, then followed him out of the door. “Bye Mother, bye Father!” I called back and waved, although they couldn’t see it.
Kevin and I walked in awkward silence to the bus stop. It had always been this awkward with Kevin, especially when we were both alone—which was rare. He isn’t much of a good brother. Well, part of me argued, I’m not much of a good sister either.
All through our relatively short journey, my mind kept spitting out subjects to talk about. I had even tried asking him how school life was going for him—it was the first thing my broken brain could suggest—but all means of conversation were forced to stop at his mean tone.
If it would have done better to improve the relationship between us, I would have willingly sighed/groaned/moaned/complained at that moment, like what I felt like doing. But since it probably wouldn’t make an impact on anything except contribute—slightly—to noise pollution, I kept my mouth shut.
See? This is what I mean by ‘I couldn’t talk to anyone anymore’.
**
“Yo man, what’s up?” Kevin greeted his ‘brothers’—who were really just his close friends—and fist-slammed them; his usual greeting.
I was already used to this—and by ‘this’, I meant my only sibling ignoring me—so I crossed over to the opposite side of the bus stop, loitering there alone.
As usual.
Everything was as per normal today, except for me. I was the only thing here that wasn’t normal. Not since I’d unintentionally decided to reminisce about the past—the past that I wanted with all of my heart to come back again. I wanted the once unbreakable bond between my twin and I back. I wanted all the bad, odd dreams to stop. I wanted the past; I needed the past.
I clung onto this need all the way to school, where I sat alone during lunch; where I hung out with myself; where everybody pushed past me; where I was the most ignored. As usual.

--Viewer, Walker, Whisperer

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T11:19:00.003+08:00

Hey y'all.

Would just like to wish all of you a huge HAPPY NEW YEAR! It's 1 January 2009 and I've already made my New Year Resolutions (just in case you're curious, I'm going to study harder, learn to be more outgoing, and definitely write more).

Anyway, I'll be going back to the first day of school tomorrow and I'll be busier than usual, so please forgive me if I don't post as much as I do in the holidays. (or did) So thank you one and all for reading my stories and for those of you who don't... what are you waiting for?!

Follow/subscribe please! Thank you. :)

--Amanda

Never Been Loved Chapter 2

2008-12-27T15:47:00.004+08:00

“I’m sorry miss, but this is only enough to pay half of the journey,” the driver pointed out politely, holding the bag of coins in his palm. My eyebrows knitted together in extreme frustration.
“But that’s all I have.” I tried to make my voice sound pleading, and turned my hazel eyes on the driver. I knew this was manipulation, but I had to survive!
The big-sized man suddenly looked unsure of himself. Great! It was working!
My voice turned soft. “My family only gave me this much. They said I had to be...” I paused for a quarter of a second, searching for the right word, “...independent.” I looked down, staring at my scraped hands.
I heard the driver sigh and he spoke in a sympathetic voice as I’d hoped he would, “Alright then, child. Go on your way.”
My head shot up and a wide smile spread across my face. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much!”
He cracked a grin and I headed out of the cab. I watched till he disappeared from sight, and then turned around to face the row of houses nestled on Hillcrest Drive, suddenly waking up from my stupor.
I clapped a hand to my forehead. I should have asked!
I had specifically told the driver to drop me off here because I remembered a conversation with my parents—I had to stop calling them that, I was free now—with John and Dakota—something about a relative on Hillcrest Drive. That was the only place I could seek refuge at, for the moment. But they hadn’t discussed which house they lived in, only which street!
Gah! How could I not have planned this in my escape! How rash!
I sighed, and then looked around. What should I do now? Sighing once more, I spotted a small garden encircled with majestic-looking trees and decided to lie there first.
After all, it had been a pretty long day and I was exhausted! I hadn’t realised how tired I was until I actually stumbled into the clearing and laid down. My eyelids were heavy and it wasn’t long before I stopped resisting the instinctive urge to keep them open.
*
A rustle of leaves nearby jolted me out of my dreamless slumber. I blinked a couple times to get rid of the sleep, then sat upright. I scanned the small clearing warily, back ramrod straight.
I heard another rustle close to me. I got to my feet, poised and ready to strike. Whoever—or whatever—was there would stay far, far away from me once it gets a taste of my foot.
The bushes nearest to me were pulled apart by two strong—but thankfully, human—hands and my breath caught in my throat. He gave a little gasp when he saw me, and so did the girl behind him when she slammed into his heavily muscled side, wondering why he had stopped so suddenly.
He had the curliest of curls set like a crown atop his head; his sky blue eyes deeper than the bottom of the ocean. He literally pulled my breath out from between my lips.
The moment was awkward until the blonde behind him spoke, “Jared, could you move?” He—I mean, Jared—shifted out of the way and took his eyes off me—reluctantly, it seemed.
“Um, yes, I’m sorry,” he muttered. The girl smiled at him gratefully and then took off, as if fleeing from him.
I took an involuntary step back. Jared did too, and then before I had time to react, he ran off.
I frowned. Was there something wrong with me? I didn’t think so. I looked down at my ragged clothing and groaned softly.
Right. There was completely nothing wrong with me, except for the fact that I looked like a ragged dishwasher. Ugh!
I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes tightly, then picked up my rucksack and stepped out of the clearing. I wasn’t going to sleep there tonight, mostly due to the ‘rustling incident’. But then, where was I going to rest? I couldn’t possibly lie down in the middle of the road, could I?
Sighing, I closed my eyes and randomly pointed to a house. It was the only way I could think of, since all the houses were identical—white-washed with intricate designs on them—and stretched all the way down three streets, I suppose!
My eyelids fluttered open and I looked at the house that my finger had chosen. It didn’t look so bad. The front porch was neat and had a sweet little rocking chair on it. I hoped with all the energy that I had left in me that the family living in this house would let me in, even if just for tonight, and walked towards it.
I pushed the unlocked, wrought iron gate open and daintily stepped past the beautiful fish pond to the front door. I breathed deeply. Not wanting to cower out of this situation and instead, go in search for some other clearing to sleep in, I hastily rang the doorbell.
I heard it echo inside the house and a boy called out, “I’ll get it!” Shuffles sounded, nearer to the door now, and he opened it with a slight frown on his face. I gasped. Jared?

--Never Been Loved

Never Been Loved Chapter 1

2008-12-26T15:30:00.003+08:00

Memories reeled through my mind as I stuffed whatever I owned into my trusty, abused rucksack. I roughly threw in a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, which I had packed late last night after planning my escape.
Escape. Huh. Never thought it'd come to this! But really, I couldn't take it anymore! All the beatings, verbal abuse, everything! Night after night, I prayed and hoped and wished with every fibre of my being that someone would find me and bring me out of this hell-hole.
But no. Nobody came to rescue me.
Looks like I had to take matters into my own hands.
I just hoped that I wouldn't get caught by my family, which would just bring me right back to square one! That's why I'd chosen to run away during this odd hour when I knew mum was at work, Mallory and Thomas were at school and dad was at the bar, drinking his fill.
I strapped the rucksack on tightly and sucked in a huge breath. This was it. A whole new beginning. I turned around and opened the door confidently, coming face-to-face with...
“D-d-dad. What-what are you doing here?” I stammered.
He bared his crooked, yellow teeth, “I’m back from the bar early.”
I immediately took a step back. What should I do now? “Well, that’s good,” I said, not sounding like that was good at all. I forced a reluctant smile.
He grunted, advancing towards me. “Where are you going?”
I fiddled nervously with my dangling bag strap. “Nowhere,” I answered a second too quickly.
He kept coming closer to me. What should I do? What should I do? I quickly scanned the small room, looking for another means of escape, trying not to seem too obvious. Then, the answer hit me like a wrecking ball. The window!
I turned back to face my bald and scary father. Keeping my eyes fixed on his every move, I carefully retreated, one slow step at a time. He matched every movement of mine with his own, as if we were dancing a far-from-lithe salsa routine.
I knew that if I didn’t try to run now, I never would be able to escape. Never taking my eyes off of my father, I slowly counted to five; I found myself trying to put off everything as long as I could.
Four. I took a deep breath. I was already propped up on the windowsill at the far corner of the attic. I sneaked a peek at the bottom and quailed at the height.
Five. Oh well, here goes nothing; it was my last thought before I launched myself out of the dreaded room and down onto the Heatherfields’ garden.
The impact knocked the breath out of my lungs; I huffed. Pulling in huge gulps of air, I laid down on the green, clean-cut grass that I had once mowed. I didn’t have long to recover though.
As soon as I heard pounding on the staircase—which I assumed was the weight of my father’s bulging tummy—I quickly jumped to my feet and started running. I was so close to getting away right now that I couldn’t bear to get caught!
“Stop right there!” He shouted, panting behind me. It was a good thing that my school had decided to include a compulsory physical course in its already jam-packed curriculum.
Minutes passed by—though to me, they seemed like hours—and finally, I saw the gateway to my only available sanctuary.
Charging forward with newfound strength, I quickly opened the unlocked, metal gate and closed it tight behind me. I looked left and right down the street, and, my good luck prevailing, managed to hurriedly flag a cab.
“Balcones Heights, Hillcrest Drive,” I instructed the driver as he shifted out of neutral and headed for downtown. Even though I was free, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I twisted around in my seat to watch my father slam into the wire mesh in a desperate attempt to stop me from escaping. It took a while for the realisation to hit me. The relief was so exquisite that I laughed out loud. I got out of their clutches! I made it!

--Never Been Loved

Never Been Loved Prologue

2008-12-24T13:16:00.009+08:00

It was a bright, sunny morning. My family was bumbling about in the car; dad was driving while whistling a merry tune; mum was reading the papers; my older sister—Mallory--was texting her boyfriend and little Thomas was playing with his toy soldier. I was staring out the window, thinking about life.
Why did life have to be so cruel? I mean, I believe that there was a heaven somewhere high above, and that it was fair, but why didn't I get to know about the fairness? Why didn't I have a perfect family like everyone else at school? Why couldn't I just be happy?
"Amelia!" My mum shouted at me, breaking me out of my daylight reverie. I looked at her without saying a word. She didn't like people interrupting her; well, not really. Just me.
"Anyway, you're not going to that music school you wanted." My jaw dropped.
"Why not?"
"Because we can't afford it." She stated matter-of-factly. Everybody else in the car was paying attention by now.
"You let Mallory go to the school she wants and it's even more expensive than mine!" I reasoned. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mallory smirk.
"Maybe it's to do with the fact that you're not one of us, and never will be." Her smug tone made me turn away. I hated it whenever anyone lingered on the fact that I wasn't a true Heatherfield. It made me wish even harder that I hadn't been adopted by them.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Being angry wasn't effective at all, trust me.
"Then where am I going to?" I asked, trying my best to sound polite. My mum smiled a fake smile and answered, her voice saturated with bitter-sweet sarcasm, "Ocean Park."
"What!" I yelled, not able to hold myself back.
She frowned, "It's a good school, dear." I felt my temper rise.
"No, it isn't! You know it isn't! When Mallory's teacher suggested for her to go to Ocean Park you nearly blew the school down!"
Her face became absurdly sour. "Amelia Jayne Vanhoughen, you are to show more respect to your mother! If I say Ocean Park it means Ocean Park!"
I froze. Mother?
"You never were my mother." I said coldly. She looked as if she were about to blow her top.
"Amelia!" Dad boomed. I glared at him and, not being able to take anymore, slung my bag over my shoulder.
"What are you doing?" Thomas asked, evilly innocent. I glared at him too, and muttered, "Little devil" before opening the car door.
The wind whipped through my brown locks and, anger lending me courage, I brazenly jumped out of the moving car.
"Oaf!" I fell down onto the rough pavement. I heard distant laughter as my so-called 'family' sped off. They didn't even bother to stop to let me off! I scowled after their retreating backs and stood up, brushing the dirt off of my shorts.
I was so mad at them! Why did I have to be so unlucky! Finally, I looked around. A groan immediately followed after.
Great. I was stuck in the middle of the freeway, many miles from home, with no money whatsoever. Just wonderful.

--Never Been Loved