Clearly, no one had remembered to bring an umbrella. I would certainly have found it amusing to witness a hoard of students running and screaming under the heavy rain, scrambling for the nearest shelter if I had not been among those very students. Not to mention, the bus shelter was really small and there we were, squeezing into the already cramped shelter as if our lives depended on it. As if avoiding being drenched from head to toe is a higher priority than moving slightly aside to accommodate the other slower runners. Of course it is. Our mid-term examinations would be commencing next week. We simply could not afford to get sick so I could understand the selfishness. But still! Scoot a little over there to let me have more space to breathe!
Ignoring the incessant drips on my shoulder, I focused my attention at the upcoming buses. A quick scan over the bus crowd and I could immediately tell some of them here rarely take the bus home. For all I know, they were just living just five minutes away from the school but just because it was raining, they were stealing the spaces for the people who actually needed to take bus home!
Next time I knew, I found myself hissing at those annoying people and caught the attention of an elderly woman standing near me. Unfortunately for her, she was not able to squeeze into the bus shelter and seemed content with just standing under the pouring rain. In contrast, I was well-protected by the bus shelter but only 90%. Shame started to fill me as I was no position to grumble when a person was keeping quiet while having nothing to protecting her from the persistent rain.
Suddenly, I started to realize how awkward it was for all of us to simply stand there in a cramped bus stop, waiting impatiently for the bus that usually arrived early every time. From time to time, my eyes glanced over to the old woman beside me in case she showed an indication of discomfort. Before I knew it, a person walked past me and stood next to her, holding out an umbrella for her. I recognized the kind person. She was the captain of the netball team and I saw her often in the school canteen but her name escaped me. Well, her name was not important. The more important thing was that she came out of nowhere just to provide shelter for the poor elderly woman who had been standing under the rain for a while now.
To think I would be able to see random acts of kindness like this on such a dreadfully heavy rain. As I reached out for my phone from my bag, my hands felt a hard lump and I immediately recognized it as my umbrella.
Well, I would be able to see random acts of stupidity at times like these too.
Friday, 18 March 2016
Sunday, 13 March 2016
Short Story #95: The UnorthodoxTeacher
It was not that we had a personal vendetta against school. We just dislike attending Mr. Aaron's class. Seriously, whenever we walk towards the classroom, dread automatically filled us up and we had to control our urge to run the opposite way. Clearly, we did not have a good impression of him and that quickly happened based on our first lesson together.
In the first week of lessons, we were all slowly getting the feel of our five modules in our new Spring semester and we were incredibly hopeful of our professors. Because, once the teacher we got turned out to be bad, there was no way out and that meant that we have to put extra effort into our learning. And unfortunately for us, we got three completely terrible teachers this semester. Another one was pretty cool and understood what she was teaching us. And the fifth teacher...well...Mr Aaron was not exactly bad at what he does. If anything, he's incredibly knowledgeable about the subject he's teaching. For Mr Aaron's case, he is just...to put it simply...unorthodox.
On the first lesson alone, as he was introducing himself to us, he proudly announced that he owned a pet snake named 'Ana' and then proceeded to softly warn us not to tell anyone. Or he would release a box of cockroaches into the classroom. Shock was an utter understatement to describe how we felt at that point of time. We were completely horrified of this teacher! Obviously, you would think, he probably has a strange sense of humour. Believe us, we all had the benefit of the doubt at first but when he actually brought his pet snake to class the next lesson, we just knew he meant his words. And that included an army of cockroaches invading the classroom.
Over the weeks, lessons with Mr Aaron became more bizarre with each passing week. Sometimes, we wonder if he actually escaped from a mental hospital because there was this time when he asked a question to the whole class and being the passive learners that we were, he was met with silence. As the silence dragged on for a few excruciating seconds, he suddenly went ballistic and thrashed the entire classroom, even throwing a chair onto the glass windows beside us which left a faint crack there. It was ultimately traumatizing and from that day onwards, we had been quite responsive in class.
In spite of all that, I actually appreciated him as a teacher. Well, I'll never admit this out loud to other people otherwise they would think I'm slowly turning into a deranged person like Mr Aaron is currently being. He was not any cookie cutter teacher who gave dry lectures. He actually cared about us digesting what he taught and went out of his way to drill everything that he taught into our heads. One time, I was walking home from school since I lived very near and suddenly, Mr Aaron approached me on his bicycle and brought me to his house which was an isolated canal near an abandoned lot of warehouses. He was probably messing around me for sure. And there, he delivered an exceptionally wonderful lecture, effectively summarizing everything that he taught from day one. To be honest, from his sheer dedication as a teacher, I really respected him then and there.
In the first week of lessons, we were all slowly getting the feel of our five modules in our new Spring semester and we were incredibly hopeful of our professors. Because, once the teacher we got turned out to be bad, there was no way out and that meant that we have to put extra effort into our learning. And unfortunately for us, we got three completely terrible teachers this semester. Another one was pretty cool and understood what she was teaching us. And the fifth teacher...well...Mr Aaron was not exactly bad at what he does. If anything, he's incredibly knowledgeable about the subject he's teaching. For Mr Aaron's case, he is just...to put it simply...unorthodox.
On the first lesson alone, as he was introducing himself to us, he proudly announced that he owned a pet snake named 'Ana' and then proceeded to softly warn us not to tell anyone. Or he would release a box of cockroaches into the classroom. Shock was an utter understatement to describe how we felt at that point of time. We were completely horrified of this teacher! Obviously, you would think, he probably has a strange sense of humour. Believe us, we all had the benefit of the doubt at first but when he actually brought his pet snake to class the next lesson, we just knew he meant his words. And that included an army of cockroaches invading the classroom.
Over the weeks, lessons with Mr Aaron became more bizarre with each passing week. Sometimes, we wonder if he actually escaped from a mental hospital because there was this time when he asked a question to the whole class and being the passive learners that we were, he was met with silence. As the silence dragged on for a few excruciating seconds, he suddenly went ballistic and thrashed the entire classroom, even throwing a chair onto the glass windows beside us which left a faint crack there. It was ultimately traumatizing and from that day onwards, we had been quite responsive in class.
In spite of all that, I actually appreciated him as a teacher. Well, I'll never admit this out loud to other people otherwise they would think I'm slowly turning into a deranged person like Mr Aaron is currently being. He was not any cookie cutter teacher who gave dry lectures. He actually cared about us digesting what he taught and went out of his way to drill everything that he taught into our heads. One time, I was walking home from school since I lived very near and suddenly, Mr Aaron approached me on his bicycle and brought me to his house which was an isolated canal near an abandoned lot of warehouses. He was probably messing around me for sure. And there, he delivered an exceptionally wonderful lecture, effectively summarizing everything that he taught from day one. To be honest, from his sheer dedication as a teacher, I really respected him then and there.
Thursday, 10 March 2016
Short Story #94: If I Were Born In A Rich Family
I could not imagine how it would be like to be born in a wealthy family. I mean obviously my life would end up really differently! Like worlds apart!
For one, I could imagine myself taking my family's wealth for no granted and as a result, I would not be able empathize with people who were not as blessed with wealth as I am. Because I would be mostly living a sheltered life, I would not be able to understand the degree of the hardships that most people go through. Once I mingled with such people, I would be clueless and could slip up and said something insensitive. What would be worse is that I could have a larger ego and think that I am entitled to say anything, even when it offends people and still not feel apologetic for it. That would suck indeed.
Of course, being sheltered and overly-pampered is obviously a good thing since I would not have to exert effort in trying to get around in commuting since my family would have a personal chauffeur who would drive to and from an overpriced private school. Or maybe I could have been home schooled. And every single day, I would be able to enjoy delicious feasts for three meals. Which would seem perfect and desirable at first glance but once I put more thought into it, I do not like the idea at all.
I am glad that I am not born into a rich family because I do not regret going through the ordinary hardships and obstacles that I have went through and am still facing. Such things make me stronger and allow me to become more strong-willed and grow as a person. It is great that I have to scrimp and save to buy a slightly more expensive meal once every two weeks, or buy a costly video game that I would play endlessly like nobody's business (*whispers* Pokemon).
And I love taking public transport and navigating around places myself and with my friends. Even though some journeys may take quite long, they still give me plenty of time and room to reflect and think about my life in general. I truly enjoy that.
And by entering public schools, I get mingle around people from all walks of life and exchange ideas with them, allowing me to see other people's thoughts on the same issues and things.
So, even though I sometimes wished I had an easier and problem-free life, I am appreciative of the family to whom I am born into because this taught me a lot of life lessons that cannot be studied from a textbook or television shows.
For one, I could imagine myself taking my family's wealth for no granted and as a result, I would not be able empathize with people who were not as blessed with wealth as I am. Because I would be mostly living a sheltered life, I would not be able to understand the degree of the hardships that most people go through. Once I mingled with such people, I would be clueless and could slip up and said something insensitive. What would be worse is that I could have a larger ego and think that I am entitled to say anything, even when it offends people and still not feel apologetic for it. That would suck indeed.
Of course, being sheltered and overly-pampered is obviously a good thing since I would not have to exert effort in trying to get around in commuting since my family would have a personal chauffeur who would drive to and from an overpriced private school. Or maybe I could have been home schooled. And every single day, I would be able to enjoy delicious feasts for three meals. Which would seem perfect and desirable at first glance but once I put more thought into it, I do not like the idea at all.
I am glad that I am not born into a rich family because I do not regret going through the ordinary hardships and obstacles that I have went through and am still facing. Such things make me stronger and allow me to become more strong-willed and grow as a person. It is great that I have to scrimp and save to buy a slightly more expensive meal once every two weeks, or buy a costly video game that I would play endlessly like nobody's business (*whispers* Pokemon).
And I love taking public transport and navigating around places myself and with my friends. Even though some journeys may take quite long, they still give me plenty of time and room to reflect and think about my life in general. I truly enjoy that.
And by entering public schools, I get mingle around people from all walks of life and exchange ideas with them, allowing me to see other people's thoughts on the same issues and things.
So, even though I sometimes wished I had an easier and problem-free life, I am appreciative of the family to whom I am born into because this taught me a lot of life lessons that cannot be studied from a textbook or television shows.
Sunday, 6 March 2016
Short Story #93: Project
To be honest, I don't like the word 'project'. Because it automatically means that huge amounts of time and effort have to be invested in this project in order for it to be a very good quality. And I'm naturally a person who hates working hard even though I would love to have high grades and marks for everything. Also, a 'project' also means I have to work in a group. Even in a group with your friends, there would still be complications.
Back then, there was this presentation that my group was working on and during our meeting in my friend's house, everyone was distracted except me. And when I tried to get them to focus, none of them listened to me and I must have made a face because one of those so-called friends told me not to cry. Such disrespect. (Yeah I'm being dramatic here)
However, there was this separate project and I was distracted and suddenly everyone in the group turned against me. Like wow. Amazing. And then they acted as if I suddenly became a reincarnation of evil. So I guess it is extremely okay for them to be unfocused since not only majority wins, it was 'cool' at that time to not cooperate but when it came to me, it was such a major crime. Speaking of which, I really had no idea what friends I mixed with back then. Truthfully, most of them had objects up their butts and they seemed to be unable to show decent manners to others. Well, I guess such people are part of life, unfortunately.
Then comes the worst project experience ever in college. I am just rolling my eyes as I am recalling those awful memories. Really, instead of getting work done, my other group mates were more interested in stalking girls' Facebook profiles and also they mocked my religious beliefs and practices. Working with them was such a nightmare but glad that was over. Seriously, they kept talking about getting an 'A' but they barely gave the right amount of effort.
Now that I think about it, these obstacles were just something that I just have to go through. Because when I am studying in university, I am surrounded with a lot of people who are just as serious as I am to work together and do quality work. Who are serious to do well in all of our modules. Well, we all are paying expensive school fees to study so why not put in the effort?
I am happy where I am now. Even though I get very nervous for presentations and embarrassed afterwards, they all are helpful and besides, I am a Communications major so presenting is definitely something I cannot avoid. But I really love doing reports where I get to do some research and read peer-reviewed articles and also assignments where I get to throw in my constructive opinions. The examinations and tests are still burdens because I waste too much time in making my own notes that it barely leaves me time to revise adequately.
Still, I am a work in progress and I will start viewing projects more positively.
Saturday, 5 March 2016
Short Story #92: The Basketball Captain Part 2
If my mother had ordered me to run some errands in the supermarket right now, I would do it in a heartbeat. Anything to escape from this never-ending torture that is Physical Education lessons. Really, I am far from being an athletic person. I get breathless after running a few metres without stopping. Maybe it could be because I always had a heavy breakfast every morning.
Anyway, in short, I am bad in sports and I am currently holding a basketball like I've never played the sport before. Which is true. With a bored expression, I watched as my tall classmate threw a shot from the three-point line only to fail miserably.
Suppressing a smirk, I shouted, "Hey! Watch this!"
Eyes were on me as I tried to dribble the ball while running very quickly. Of course, my hand missed the ball and it started to bounce away from me. Cursing silently, I scurried back to retrieve the bouncing ball as I heard snickers around me. My eyes were fixed on the still moving ball that stopped as it reached someone's feet - a pair of expensive-looking Adidas sports shoes.
Sighing in relief, I raised my head to apologize when my voice was caught in my throat. My eyes widened as I found out who it was.
"Here," the handsome basketball boy said as he handed the ball back to me, to which I accepted, albeit with shaking hands.
"Thanks," I murmured as I averted my eyes. I could sense his puzzlement. As I was about to turn my heel, he suddenly spoke.
"I can't help but notice but you seem to have trouble playing basketball."
Wow, was it THAT obvious?
"So I thought I'll help teach you."
My eyes widened again as I whipped my head back at him. And I wished I didn't because my heart suddenly started beating faster than it already did as his handsome features became so apparent. Like he is so much more good-looking in person. Wow.
A deep-sounding chuckle snapped me out of my reverie. "You seem shocked."
A blush spread across my cheeks. "Well, are you going to teach me or not?"
He seemed surprised at my snappy remark but thankfully, this made him smile even wider. "Looks like someone can't wait. Come here."
With his hand, he gestured me to come closer to me. I complied but still remained wary. He then gestured me to turn around and told me to keep my hands on the ball. A confused expression was plastered on my face as I waited for any further instructions and was about to turn around to scold him when suddenly two hands were placed on mine. Like very huge hands!
Eyes widening to the size of saucers, I froze and a chill spread through my spine as he whispered closely to my ear. "When shooting the ball, use one hand to hold the base of the ball lightly while using the other hand to hit the ball ."
He demonstrated but I was not paying attention. I just could not help but feel the warmth radiating from him as he was half-embracing me. A successful shot must have been heard because I heard surprised gasps and cheers soon after. Meanwhile, I just lowered my gaze, finding the ground interesting as I uttered a soft 'thank you'.
Again, he responded with a deep-sounding chuckle, making me blush even redder if that was even possible.
"See you around!"
Yes. Hopefully, we'll meet again. A small smile formed in my lips.
Anyway, in short, I am bad in sports and I am currently holding a basketball like I've never played the sport before. Which is true. With a bored expression, I watched as my tall classmate threw a shot from the three-point line only to fail miserably.
Suppressing a smirk, I shouted, "Hey! Watch this!"
Eyes were on me as I tried to dribble the ball while running very quickly. Of course, my hand missed the ball and it started to bounce away from me. Cursing silently, I scurried back to retrieve the bouncing ball as I heard snickers around me. My eyes were fixed on the still moving ball that stopped as it reached someone's feet - a pair of expensive-looking Adidas sports shoes.
Sighing in relief, I raised my head to apologize when my voice was caught in my throat. My eyes widened as I found out who it was.
"Here," the handsome basketball boy said as he handed the ball back to me, to which I accepted, albeit with shaking hands.
"Thanks," I murmured as I averted my eyes. I could sense his puzzlement. As I was about to turn my heel, he suddenly spoke.
"I can't help but notice but you seem to have trouble playing basketball."
Wow, was it THAT obvious?
"So I thought I'll help teach you."
My eyes widened again as I whipped my head back at him. And I wished I didn't because my heart suddenly started beating faster than it already did as his handsome features became so apparent. Like he is so much more good-looking in person. Wow.
A deep-sounding chuckle snapped me out of my reverie. "You seem shocked."
A blush spread across my cheeks. "Well, are you going to teach me or not?"
He seemed surprised at my snappy remark but thankfully, this made him smile even wider. "Looks like someone can't wait. Come here."
With his hand, he gestured me to come closer to me. I complied but still remained wary. He then gestured me to turn around and told me to keep my hands on the ball. A confused expression was plastered on my face as I waited for any further instructions and was about to turn around to scold him when suddenly two hands were placed on mine. Like very huge hands!
Eyes widening to the size of saucers, I froze and a chill spread through my spine as he whispered closely to my ear. "When shooting the ball, use one hand to hold the base of the ball lightly while using the other hand to hit the ball ."
He demonstrated but I was not paying attention. I just could not help but feel the warmth radiating from him as he was half-embracing me. A successful shot must have been heard because I heard surprised gasps and cheers soon after. Meanwhile, I just lowered my gaze, finding the ground interesting as I uttered a soft 'thank you'.
Again, he responded with a deep-sounding chuckle, making me blush even redder if that was even possible.
"See you around!"
Yes. Hopefully, we'll meet again. A small smile formed in my lips.
Monday, 22 February 2016
Short Story #91: The Basketball Captain Part 1
I had never felt more blessed that my house was just a short distance from the school that I went to. Not that there were not plenty of benefits before. I got to save up on transport costs to and from school since the journey was literally a very short ten minutes walk. Also, I had the privilege to sleep in a little longer every morning which I fully take advantage of.
Enough of those unimportant reasons. The real reason why I am suddenly re-stating a fairly obvious fact (that is if you are one of my friends) is really because of a certain someone. Of course you would be internally groaning at the supposedly anti-climatic reveal. "Urgh not another love story..." is what you are probably thinking right now. Just listen.
Okay, so it all started during my first year of starting school, one day, I was walking back home from school as usual. Expecting it to be an uneventful walk, I lazily gazed at the vast soccer field and the basketball courts. High fences surrounded the school compound and the grey pavement next to it was where I always take to and from school. Boys were chasing a ball in the field and only one of the three basketball courts were occupied. As I watched them running around, I thought about how I would never be as athletic as them and shrugged at that. I was about to turn my gaze when my eyes stopped at a tall boy. My eyes widened and my jaw grew slack. There, dressed in basketball shorts and the ugly school uniform is a very handsome boy. He basically towered over his two friends who were actually quite tall too as he successfully stole a ball from one of them and dribbled forward before throwing a beautiful shot into the basket. At that, I accidentally let an excited sound and immediately I closed my mouth and ducked my head, scared that the sporty boys heard it and I would automatically be labelled as 'weird'.
Sensing that the coast was clear, I carefully lifted my head and a smile slowly formed in my face. Such a breathtakingly handsome boy. He had such a charismatic aura that I just could not tear my eyes from and my mind began to fill with fantasies about him like him bringing me out for a date or him complimenting my intelligence. I seemed to be a little too into those daydreams because I almost jumped to the moon when I heard a shrill sound of a bell ringing. I whipped my head to face the culprit and smiled sheepishly as I quickly set aside some space for the irritated cyclist to move forward.
Well, that was embarrassing. I averted my gaze to the handsome basketball boy again and hoped that he did not witness that. As I watched him performed a beautiful alley-oop, I smiled once more before resuming my walk back home, my thoughts filled about him.
Saturday, 20 February 2016
Short Story #90: Insecurity
Even though not everyone would admit it, every one of us is insecure about at least one thing. There will always be that one factor that would affect us very deeply, that instantly make us feel self-conscious when it is brought up or about to be brought up. And this single factor acts like a very thin wall around our pride and dignity. A very fragile wall. An easily breakable wall. And when this wall is teared down gradually before eventually crumbling, we instantly feel small. Tiny. Unimportant. Insignificant. Like being constantly reminded that we mean nothing in this world of billions of people. Basically, it is like a harsh slap to our faces.
Insecurity is such a sensitive topic. Even if someone claims that they are unaffected when their pride has been attacked, it is all a pretense. A huge pretense. It is funny how when we are at our lowest, we suddenly become great actors. While we faked a smile and waved our hands dismissively at others, inside we are slowly crumbling and all the tiny fragments are weighing our self-esteem down. The obvious truth is our pride has shattered. And in reflex, we are merely trying to salvage the little amount of pride we have left. That is not wrong. We all have the right to save our faces.
I guess I may be sounding a little vague in my previous paragraphs. And, I guess I may be confusing too so I will provide some concrete explanations and examples to the best of my ability. Obviously, we all have pride. And when our pride is at the risk of being shattered, we tend to act nonchalant but most of the time, in varying degrees, our efforts would fail. Because outside forces are fully intent in bringing us down and it is not like we can just walk towards them and slap them across their faces and order them to shut the hell up. We all try our best to be civilized.
But apparently, some people like to test our patience. We work hard to give others basic courtesy but it is really funny how some of those people do not return it. Let's just say, a person who loves singing and prided in themselves in their voices. They think their voices are great. They think they sound good. This means everything to them. The whole world. So when one person says to their own face that they sound bad, it feels as if the world has stopped for them and that is the end of the world for them. Figuratively, they fell into a deep hole, the height of the hole being a container that traps them in their mind that is now filled with negative thoughts.
Basically, mean comments hurt people. And that includes bringing up the physical weaknesses of people. Like their height, weight, or the unsightly mole or birthmark on their bodies. Like really? Is it so hard to keep your comments to yourself? While you think it is just a small, unimportant remark, to the people whom you just hurt their feelings, it feels as if their whole world has shattered. Because of your 'small, unimportant' comment.
So, be attentive to what makes people insecure, especially people who you value the most in your lives. When you feel like saying something, consider your words. Would it hurt anyone's feelings? Maybe it would even if it sounds like a joke to you. It might not be a joke to them. Don't make others feel more insecure about themselves than they already do. Even the most strong-willed person cries alone. So please, consider your words and give positive comments instead, it would mean a lot to the other person. Bring a genuine smile to their faces. Spread happiness and feelings of empowerment to other people. There is nothing more pleasant than seeing other people feeling happy.
Insecurity is such a sensitive topic. Even if someone claims that they are unaffected when their pride has been attacked, it is all a pretense. A huge pretense. It is funny how when we are at our lowest, we suddenly become great actors. While we faked a smile and waved our hands dismissively at others, inside we are slowly crumbling and all the tiny fragments are weighing our self-esteem down. The obvious truth is our pride has shattered. And in reflex, we are merely trying to salvage the little amount of pride we have left. That is not wrong. We all have the right to save our faces.
I guess I may be sounding a little vague in my previous paragraphs. And, I guess I may be confusing too so I will provide some concrete explanations and examples to the best of my ability. Obviously, we all have pride. And when our pride is at the risk of being shattered, we tend to act nonchalant but most of the time, in varying degrees, our efforts would fail. Because outside forces are fully intent in bringing us down and it is not like we can just walk towards them and slap them across their faces and order them to shut the hell up. We all try our best to be civilized.
But apparently, some people like to test our patience. We work hard to give others basic courtesy but it is really funny how some of those people do not return it. Let's just say, a person who loves singing and prided in themselves in their voices. They think their voices are great. They think they sound good. This means everything to them. The whole world. So when one person says to their own face that they sound bad, it feels as if the world has stopped for them and that is the end of the world for them. Figuratively, they fell into a deep hole, the height of the hole being a container that traps them in their mind that is now filled with negative thoughts.
Basically, mean comments hurt people. And that includes bringing up the physical weaknesses of people. Like their height, weight, or the unsightly mole or birthmark on their bodies. Like really? Is it so hard to keep your comments to yourself? While you think it is just a small, unimportant remark, to the people whom you just hurt their feelings, it feels as if their whole world has shattered. Because of your 'small, unimportant' comment.
So, be attentive to what makes people insecure, especially people who you value the most in your lives. When you feel like saying something, consider your words. Would it hurt anyone's feelings? Maybe it would even if it sounds like a joke to you. It might not be a joke to them. Don't make others feel more insecure about themselves than they already do. Even the most strong-willed person cries alone. So please, consider your words and give positive comments instead, it would mean a lot to the other person. Bring a genuine smile to their faces. Spread happiness and feelings of empowerment to other people. There is nothing more pleasant than seeing other people feeling happy.
Short Story #89: Cooking Mishap
It was rare for Emily to arrive home before any of her family members.
Her brother must have been held up in soccer practice whereas her parents must have still been at her grandmother's house for their monthly visit. Whatever the reasons for their delay, Emily was beyond elated. She had been anticipating this golden opportunity that had been generously offered to her by the heavens. Probably, Emily mused, her donating of $10 last week contributed to this valuable chance. While she admitted that she had been complaining about her dramatic loss in personal funds, she would not be groaning about that anymore.
The thing was, Emily had recently taken interest in cooking. It all started ever since she had watched Masterchef on television after completing her homework. She marveled at the many kinds of ways that food can be cooked and not to mention, how elegant and cool some cooks looked while preparing the dishes too although for that, she quickly figured out that the video editing had something to do with that. Anyway, Emily had quickly changed her dream occupation from a artist to a cook. At least, while pursuing to be a chef, she could learn some helpful cooking recipes on the way. What can she do with piles of canvas smeared with paint and crayons anyway?
So, with her being alone in the house, she had the kitchen all to herself and no one would get in her way! She grinned to herself in satisfaction. However, she still had no idea how long she would be by herself so she quickly started on her preparations.
The dish was nothing complicated. Chicken and prawn aglio olio. The recipe was so straightforward that she believed even a literate 5-year-old could pull it off without a problem! However, her enthusiasm was cut short when she realized that there were no chickens and prawns in the refrigerator. But that could not be. Emily could have sworn she saw her mother putting back the leftover chicken and prawn back in the fridge! Internally panicking, she hastily scoured the entire kitchen for the rest of the ingredients. To her disappointment, the only ingredient that she had in the house is a clove of garlic. She even forgot to buy a bottle of olive oil!
Sighing in disappointment, Emily collapsed on the couch in the living room, planting her face hard on the pillow to drown out her wails. It seemed like a few hours had passed until she heard the door opening and the strong aroma of food wafting in the air.
"Emily! We're home!"
"Mummy bought you your favourite food! Pasta!" Emily lit up instantly and bolted to the food waiting for her on the table.
Well, better luck next time.
Her brother must have been held up in soccer practice whereas her parents must have still been at her grandmother's house for their monthly visit. Whatever the reasons for their delay, Emily was beyond elated. She had been anticipating this golden opportunity that had been generously offered to her by the heavens. Probably, Emily mused, her donating of $10 last week contributed to this valuable chance. While she admitted that she had been complaining about her dramatic loss in personal funds, she would not be groaning about that anymore.
The thing was, Emily had recently taken interest in cooking. It all started ever since she had watched Masterchef on television after completing her homework. She marveled at the many kinds of ways that food can be cooked and not to mention, how elegant and cool some cooks looked while preparing the dishes too although for that, she quickly figured out that the video editing had something to do with that. Anyway, Emily had quickly changed her dream occupation from a artist to a cook. At least, while pursuing to be a chef, she could learn some helpful cooking recipes on the way. What can she do with piles of canvas smeared with paint and crayons anyway?
So, with her being alone in the house, she had the kitchen all to herself and no one would get in her way! She grinned to herself in satisfaction. However, she still had no idea how long she would be by herself so she quickly started on her preparations.
The dish was nothing complicated. Chicken and prawn aglio olio. The recipe was so straightforward that she believed even a literate 5-year-old could pull it off without a problem! However, her enthusiasm was cut short when she realized that there were no chickens and prawns in the refrigerator. But that could not be. Emily could have sworn she saw her mother putting back the leftover chicken and prawn back in the fridge! Internally panicking, she hastily scoured the entire kitchen for the rest of the ingredients. To her disappointment, the only ingredient that she had in the house is a clove of garlic. She even forgot to buy a bottle of olive oil!
Sighing in disappointment, Emily collapsed on the couch in the living room, planting her face hard on the pillow to drown out her wails. It seemed like a few hours had passed until she heard the door opening and the strong aroma of food wafting in the air.
"Emily! We're home!"
"Mummy bought you your favourite food! Pasta!" Emily lit up instantly and bolted to the food waiting for her on the table.
Well, better luck next time.
Wednesday, 17 February 2016
Short Story #88: A Rare Act of Kindness
A lot of adjectives can be used to describe Rayson as a person but 'kind' is definitely the last word anyone would use. To put it simply, even when you are clearly choking from food, Rayson would just walk past you, pretending that you were doing something as normal as blinking your eyes or breathing.
There was even a time when a freshman was fumbling for his wallet to pay for his double scoop chocolate sundae and Rayson simply cut the long queue to grab the delicious dessert for himself before walking away like he did not just stole anything from anyone! Rayson is just ignorant like that. And it drives everyone crazy.
It was crazy how Rayson never stops to help for anyone! Even when you beg on your knees for his help, he would just ignore the pleading person and walk forward with his chin and nose turned upwards. But so far, I had not seen anyone desperately seeking for his help. Anyone who tried for the first few times would just roll their eyes and then they would not bother asking for help anymore. In all three years that I had seen him in school, Rayson barely showed any drastic emotions on his face but I bet he must be extremely happy that no one would be bothering him anymore.
Then I started having a theory.
Maybe...Rayson is a robot. A cyborg who has some extraordinary abilities or special enhancements hidden extremely well all over his body. Maybe he has some throttle attached to his feet where he could fly upwards and travel from one continent to another without visa. Heck, he could visit Antarctica and play with the penguins and seals before coming back here, no sweat! And with the same expressionless face no less!
Okay, I am getting carried away. I had always called Rayson an alien and everyone else did too. The alien that was too weird for all of us ordinary humans to figure out. Well that was what I called him.
Until one day when I was coming home from a dance rehearsal.
It was really dark at the streets and it was pretty isolated too. It gave me the creeps but my neighbourhood is basically crime-free so I had nothing to worry about. I was just walking peacefully back to my house when I saw Rayson helping a blind person cross the road. I mean, since it was already close to midnight, there was barely any vehicles out in the road so why did Rayson go out of his way to tend to some stranger? Last time I checked, he did not even help a choking classmate. Just when I thought I must be seeing things, there was a small smile on the Mr I-Don't-Smile. My eyes widened and I blinked multiple times. Was I dreaming? When I opened my eyes once more, Rayson was staring back at me with a finger to his lips.
Don't tell anyone.
There was even a time when a freshman was fumbling for his wallet to pay for his double scoop chocolate sundae and Rayson simply cut the long queue to grab the delicious dessert for himself before walking away like he did not just stole anything from anyone! Rayson is just ignorant like that. And it drives everyone crazy.
It was crazy how Rayson never stops to help for anyone! Even when you beg on your knees for his help, he would just ignore the pleading person and walk forward with his chin and nose turned upwards. But so far, I had not seen anyone desperately seeking for his help. Anyone who tried for the first few times would just roll their eyes and then they would not bother asking for help anymore. In all three years that I had seen him in school, Rayson barely showed any drastic emotions on his face but I bet he must be extremely happy that no one would be bothering him anymore.
Then I started having a theory.
Maybe...Rayson is a robot. A cyborg who has some extraordinary abilities or special enhancements hidden extremely well all over his body. Maybe he has some throttle attached to his feet where he could fly upwards and travel from one continent to another without visa. Heck, he could visit Antarctica and play with the penguins and seals before coming back here, no sweat! And with the same expressionless face no less!
Okay, I am getting carried away. I had always called Rayson an alien and everyone else did too. The alien that was too weird for all of us ordinary humans to figure out. Well that was what I called him.
Until one day when I was coming home from a dance rehearsal.
It was really dark at the streets and it was pretty isolated too. It gave me the creeps but my neighbourhood is basically crime-free so I had nothing to worry about. I was just walking peacefully back to my house when I saw Rayson helping a blind person cross the road. I mean, since it was already close to midnight, there was barely any vehicles out in the road so why did Rayson go out of his way to tend to some stranger? Last time I checked, he did not even help a choking classmate. Just when I thought I must be seeing things, there was a small smile on the Mr I-Don't-Smile. My eyes widened and I blinked multiple times. Was I dreaming? When I opened my eyes once more, Rayson was staring back at me with a finger to his lips.
Don't tell anyone.
Tuesday, 16 February 2016
Short Story #87: A Weak Body
Trisha hated her body.
Not only does she tire easily, she also has an extremely weak stomach. When everyone in her family accidentally ate expired food for dinner, Trisha was the only one who had taken multiple trips to the bathroom while the others continued with their lives as if they had not consumed anything inedible. Well, she does not totally hate it. At times, it did help her skip lessons and dreaded dental appointments.
But, to be honest, it got really annoying. There were so many types of food Trisha had learnt to avoid the hard way. From the seaweed crackers that made her vomit an hour later to a fried lobster that made she had suffer from rashes all over her body. When Trisha went out of her way to avoid such food, she got called 'petty' by people who knew nothing about her history. Her mother had told her multiple times to ignore and Trisha tried but she could not lie that her harsh words sting her heart sometimes. It was during these times when she was certain that the expression 'sticks and stones would my heart, but words won't' is totally untrue. Well, if that was the exact phrasing. Trisha had the tendency to zone out during boring English lessons anyway.
School could be physically and mentally demanding sometimes. It was truly difficult to balance a social life while being attentive during lessons and completing assignments with quality effort on time. Not to mention that she also had to have an adequate amount of sleep, along with plenty of exercise and some time set aside to just enjoy doing some recreational activities. The instant she arrived home from school, she immediately collapsed on her comfy bed, the burden on her shoulders feeling heavy all of a sudden and drooping eyelids. Every single time, she felt completely exhausted and this frustrated.
Sighing heavily, Trisha hoped that one day she would suddenly develop a tough and invisible body like Superman. Frowning, Trisha let out a long annoyed groan onto her pillows and sat straight up. What kind of fantasy was she wishing for? She quickly stepped out of her bed to start working on her homework before it was time for her bedtime.
Not only does she tire easily, she also has an extremely weak stomach. When everyone in her family accidentally ate expired food for dinner, Trisha was the only one who had taken multiple trips to the bathroom while the others continued with their lives as if they had not consumed anything inedible. Well, she does not totally hate it. At times, it did help her skip lessons and dreaded dental appointments.
But, to be honest, it got really annoying. There were so many types of food Trisha had learnt to avoid the hard way. From the seaweed crackers that made her vomit an hour later to a fried lobster that made she had suffer from rashes all over her body. When Trisha went out of her way to avoid such food, she got called 'petty' by people who knew nothing about her history. Her mother had told her multiple times to ignore and Trisha tried but she could not lie that her harsh words sting her heart sometimes. It was during these times when she was certain that the expression 'sticks and stones would my heart, but words won't' is totally untrue. Well, if that was the exact phrasing. Trisha had the tendency to zone out during boring English lessons anyway.
School could be physically and mentally demanding sometimes. It was truly difficult to balance a social life while being attentive during lessons and completing assignments with quality effort on time. Not to mention that she also had to have an adequate amount of sleep, along with plenty of exercise and some time set aside to just enjoy doing some recreational activities. The instant she arrived home from school, she immediately collapsed on her comfy bed, the burden on her shoulders feeling heavy all of a sudden and drooping eyelids. Every single time, she felt completely exhausted and this frustrated.
Sighing heavily, Trisha hoped that one day she would suddenly develop a tough and invisible body like Superman. Frowning, Trisha let out a long annoyed groan onto her pillows and sat straight up. What kind of fantasy was she wishing for? She quickly stepped out of her bed to start working on her homework before it was time for her bedtime.
Monday, 15 February 2016
Short Story #86: Waiting...
In all of my twenty-one years of existence, I had never showered so quickly. Usually it would take me a good fifteen minutes but just for this outing, I took only five minutes. I must have been in a hurry because I did not dry myself properly, making the new clothes that I was changing into cling onto my wet skin uncomfortably.
Ignoring that unpleasant feeling, I dashed out of the toilet and ran straight to my room, not even caring about the tiny puddles of water that I left behind. Before I closed my door shut, I heard the annoyed groans of my mother. Well, that went well. Of course, once I re-opened the door, I would have to mentally prepare myself for a long lecture about drying my feet first. But now, I had more important things to care about.
Doing the finishing touch-ups on my face and hair, I threw my reflection in the mirror a brief million-dollar smile before rushing out of my room. Just as I predicted, I was greeted by the dreadfully long lecture given by my mother but I had automatically tuned her out as I searched for my pair of orange wedges. I knew exactly how to stop the lecture so I turned to my mother and asked her whether she wanted a sugar roll and a chicken pie. My treat of course. She closed her mouth and nodded her head before heading straight to her room. Well, that was easy. I shrugged and rushed out of the house, taking the time to close the gate and lock it.
To passers-by, I must have looked like I ran a marathon because by the time I stood on the train platform, I was sweating buckets and I internally cursed for not bringing a small towel with me. Glancing at my wrist watch, I cursed again because not only was I late, my friend was even later. I fished for my phone from my pocket and my eyes bulged when I saw her message claiming that she had just left her house. Not to mention, she lived thirty minutes away from our meeting point and that is, if the bus and train arrived on time.
This sucks.
Well, at least I have an hour to kill.
Ignoring that unpleasant feeling, I dashed out of the toilet and ran straight to my room, not even caring about the tiny puddles of water that I left behind. Before I closed my door shut, I heard the annoyed groans of my mother. Well, that went well. Of course, once I re-opened the door, I would have to mentally prepare myself for a long lecture about drying my feet first. But now, I had more important things to care about.
Doing the finishing touch-ups on my face and hair, I threw my reflection in the mirror a brief million-dollar smile before rushing out of my room. Just as I predicted, I was greeted by the dreadfully long lecture given by my mother but I had automatically tuned her out as I searched for my pair of orange wedges. I knew exactly how to stop the lecture so I turned to my mother and asked her whether she wanted a sugar roll and a chicken pie. My treat of course. She closed her mouth and nodded her head before heading straight to her room. Well, that was easy. I shrugged and rushed out of the house, taking the time to close the gate and lock it.
To passers-by, I must have looked like I ran a marathon because by the time I stood on the train platform, I was sweating buckets and I internally cursed for not bringing a small towel with me. Glancing at my wrist watch, I cursed again because not only was I late, my friend was even later. I fished for my phone from my pocket and my eyes bulged when I saw her message claiming that she had just left her house. Not to mention, she lived thirty minutes away from our meeting point and that is, if the bus and train arrived on time.
This sucks.
Well, at least I have an hour to kill.
Sunday, 14 February 2016
Short Story #85: Love
When I first laid my eyes on him, I thought he was handsome. His face looked extremely photogenic and his black hair was slicked back, making it shine under the bright lights. He had extremely pale skin, akin to Snow White, sharp nose, a pair of beautiful brown eyes and plump lips. You would find it creepy that I was closely inspecting his face and I sort of agree but if that guy is not the epitome of a perfect beauty, I do not know who else is.
I never knew his name but I recognize the clique that he usually hangs out with. I may have memorized all of his friends' faces so that if I were to ever chance upon them, I knew that he was not that far behind them. My eyes would instinctively search for him, as if my heart could tell that I was secretly longing for him. Every time I saw one of his friends, I tried really hard not to squeal like a rabid fangirl and maintained a poker face but inside, there were butterflies in my stomach. How could a guy bring such an intense reaction from me? Why do I feel like I could spend my entire lifetime just staring at his flawless face?
Since I am not that good in keeping secrets, my friends could immediately tell that I was completely smitten with him. Whenever they spotted him, they would instantly break into a huge grin and began to nudge me all at once, as if I could see him myself with my own two eyes. And I have perfect vision. But boy, my own friends could be a little too obvious sometimes. I guess they were just happy that I found an eye candy in school since I have reminded them too many times before that none of the boys in school really do it for me.
Until I met him.
After days of just staring at this flawless boy, the day of our school's talent show finals came. Participants of the talent show could showcase anything, from singing to dancing, and they could perform alone, as a duo or as a group. It was the finals where the top five participants perform in front of the whole school cohort and we had the power to choose who should win the coveted first prize. Of course, an insider told me that us having the right to vote was just for show and that the winner would be ultimately chosen by a panel of judges. Pfftt.
Well, I was not interested in this boring talent show anyway. That was what I told myself when suddenly I saw him step onto his stage with his gang of friends. He stood in front of a microphone stand as his other friends took their positions, testing their musical instruments.
My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. Was he going to sing? And when he opened his mouth to answer my unspoken question, my skin trembled with excitement and my heart began to palpitate wildly in my chest. His voice sounded so beautiful and angelic. Very soft and elegant. The kind that has the ability to soothe cold hearts and unhappy moods.
I became numb to my friends' constant nudging and shaking as I accepted this intense feeling.
I was in love with this boy.
I never knew his name but I recognize the clique that he usually hangs out with. I may have memorized all of his friends' faces so that if I were to ever chance upon them, I knew that he was not that far behind them. My eyes would instinctively search for him, as if my heart could tell that I was secretly longing for him. Every time I saw one of his friends, I tried really hard not to squeal like a rabid fangirl and maintained a poker face but inside, there were butterflies in my stomach. How could a guy bring such an intense reaction from me? Why do I feel like I could spend my entire lifetime just staring at his flawless face?
Since I am not that good in keeping secrets, my friends could immediately tell that I was completely smitten with him. Whenever they spotted him, they would instantly break into a huge grin and began to nudge me all at once, as if I could see him myself with my own two eyes. And I have perfect vision. But boy, my own friends could be a little too obvious sometimes. I guess they were just happy that I found an eye candy in school since I have reminded them too many times before that none of the boys in school really do it for me.
Until I met him.
After days of just staring at this flawless boy, the day of our school's talent show finals came. Participants of the talent show could showcase anything, from singing to dancing, and they could perform alone, as a duo or as a group. It was the finals where the top five participants perform in front of the whole school cohort and we had the power to choose who should win the coveted first prize. Of course, an insider told me that us having the right to vote was just for show and that the winner would be ultimately chosen by a panel of judges. Pfftt.
Well, I was not interested in this boring talent show anyway. That was what I told myself when suddenly I saw him step onto his stage with his gang of friends. He stood in front of a microphone stand as his other friends took their positions, testing their musical instruments.
My eyes widened as realization dawned on me. Was he going to sing? And when he opened his mouth to answer my unspoken question, my skin trembled with excitement and my heart began to palpitate wildly in my chest. His voice sounded so beautiful and angelic. Very soft and elegant. The kind that has the ability to soothe cold hearts and unhappy moods.
I became numb to my friends' constant nudging and shaking as I accepted this intense feeling.
I was in love with this boy.
Saturday, 13 February 2016
Short Story #84: Exhaustion
After a week jam packed with school activities, Mandy headed home with tired shoulders and a mentally exhausted mind. Her schoolbag was heavy with tons of assignments and homework that require urgent attention. Not to mention, the upcoming tests and random quizzes that may pop up in the coming weeks. Also, there are several project presentations that she have to prepare with her group mates and these do not magically complete themselves too.
Sighing heavily, Mandy boarded her bus home and just her luck, there were no vacant seats so she had to stand with the crowd. Actually, she spotted a vacant seat and she was tiredly walking towards it when an old woman pushed her away lightly, claiming the seat as hers. To be honest, Mandy was not that desperate to sit down but the rudeness of the old woman really ticked her off and her pretentious behaviour could have pictured Mandy as a selfish young lady who put her needs above others. Not that Mandy cared what people think about her, much less strangers in a bus who would forget each other's existence once they arrived at their own respective bus stops. Still, she was irritated on a Friday, the day when the much-awaited weekends arrived and she could simply take a rest.
The journey in the train was as horrible as the bus one. Packed like sardines, Mandy had the honour of taking a whiff of other passengers' bad breath and at one point, someone released a loud and smelly fart. To no one's surprise, everyone who heard it (including Mandy) were glancing around rapidly, searching for the culprit but of course, it was not as if the person would just raise their hand and admit of their embarrassing action. Farting was not as conspicuous as letting out a loud and long yawn, which Mandy had done publicly before, she admits.
Trudging on the pavement on the way back home, Mandy suddenly felt as if her schoolbag had weighed ten times heavier than when she first carried it to school despite the contents being the same. Really, her shoulders hurt and Mandy instantly pictured a well-earned body massage. Mandy continued to dream about the relaxing massage till she arrived home.
As her face met her comfy bed sheets, Mandy closed her eyes and gradually fell asleep, secretly hoping the massage would become reality soon.
Friday, 12 February 2016
Short Story #83: Missing Mother
Kelly is a growing 2-year-old. At that age, she has already learnt how to crawl, walk and speak short sentences. And of course, that meant she can already call her parents 'mummy' and 'daddy'.
Like any other child, Kelly loves to sleep. It is always hard convincing her to fall asleep - her grandmother could vouch for that. True, she loves sleeping but she absolutely dislikes it when people TELLS her to sleep. If she still wants to stay awake watching television, let her be. Why deprive her of fun? Blame the broadcasting channel for putting the Frozen reruns at the night slots. There is absolutely no way she is going to sleep when that movie is on. Well, maybe they could at least let her be awake till after Let It Go has been sung.
There are also days where she simply slept the whole day, where the only activities she did are the normal daily ones where she takes a shower and eats her meals. She really loves sleeping. Just like how it is hard to convince her to fall asleep, it is just as hard to wake her up. Despite having slept for more than the required eight hours, Kelly loves to simply roll around her cot and lay there till she feels like rising for the day.
However, one day, she regrets not waking up early.
It was Friday. The last day before the much-awaited weekends. It was a normal day so her parents had to go for work in the morning as usual. They would not leave till they gave their two daughters a hug and a kiss. It was a routine so Kelly is very used to that. Even when she is not awake yet, her parents would gently wake her from her stupor to give her affections before leaving.
But not on that day.
Her mother was running late for work because she had overslept and her boss called her to leave her house earlier because there was reportedly a traffic jam on the expressway. So her mother quickly changed into her work uniform and promptly left the house without kissing and hugging her two daughters. A few hours later, Kelly woke up to the absence of her mother and she bawled her eyes out.
Where did Mummy go? Why didn't Mummy kiss me or hug me as usual? Where is she? I miss Mummy!!
All these thoughts screamed in her mind as she continuously cried for hours to no end. Her grandmother tried hard to calm her down but her loud sobs only grew incessant. Meanwhile, her elder sister Layla simply shook her head and looked proud for not crying even though she too was sad that Mummy did not shower her with kisses and hugs.
Thursday, 11 February 2016
Short Story #82: Distractions
The biggest aspiration for Alexandra this year is to achieve great grades in university to make her parents proud and so that she would not have to repeat any module. Of course, it is easier to dream...
In reality, she barely has any motivation even to wake up in the morning. Every night without fail, she would turn in very late, and even after settling on her comfy bed, she still delayed her sleeping time by aimlessly using her smartphone till her eyes drooped and fell asleep. These irresponsible sleeping habits unsurprisingly leads to her struggling to wake up every morning. Even when she is already awake, she would look at the time, notice that it is still early before going back to her beauty sleep. Before she realizes it, three hours have passed and just like that, precious time has been wasted. Time that could have been spent doing something more productive. Of course, Alexandra regrets her behaviour but she would instantly forgets it and repeats it like rinsing her hands with water.
If waking up is simply a struggle for her, it is expected that she would also find struggle in being motivated to revise for her examinations that compute almost 60% of her grades. Throughout the lessons, she would simply slip into a daydream, thinking of what to eat for dinner later or recalling an epic drama scene that she watched the previous night. Before she knew it, lessons are over and she left the classroom with the same obliviousness that she had when she entered. Another regret is that she wastes her time in school and she sabotages her own concentration by not being target-conscious. Furthermore, due to a lack of sleep, she is mostly tired that she almost dozed off every lesson.
No matter how many times her parents had warned her, she still repeated her mistakes. As the saying goes, a leopard never change its spots. Alexandra is no different. Ever since she had been addicted to her smartphone, she shuts herself from the world, the world which is abundant with knowledge and learning experiences. She takes all of these for granted, extremely clueless that education is such a privilege and should be taken seriously. Even know this is obvious to Alexandra, she still would not change her ways.
Maybe someone should throw away her smartphone.
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
Short Story #81: Sadness
To be honest, Heather had no idea how it all led to this feeling of utter despair. Ask anyone and all of them would say Heather is a ball of sunshine who spreads happiness and smiles wherever she goes. Unfortunately, those who say such things only know one side of her.
The truth is, Heather feels lonely most of the time. Underneath the huge smiles that reach her eyes, there hides a sadness within her. Nobody else but her knows about this. While everyone else has the notion that Heather behaves exactly like she does outside with others, they remain oblivious to her heart breaking little by little.
Sometimes, she thought that her heart was about to burst any moment now without warning. It was hard to tell. There were times when it became too much to bear that tears involuntarily formed around her eyes. When concerned people asked whether she was crying, she simply shrugged it off, claiming that her laughter brought out tears out of her at times before bursting into peals of laughter.
Oh, how fake she was.
Inside, she just feels so miserable. Her mind would sometimes drift to the negative realm when she stared into space too long so she put a lot of effort into becoming really attentive to her surroundings. Was someone telling a joke? Okay, then laugh regardless of whether it was funny or not. Was someone crying? Of course, it was obvious to comfort them! Almost always, Heather was able to cheer the upset person up. Once, there was this grateful person who was envious of Heather's bright and cheerful personality and wanted to steal some of her optimism. Heather would just laugh it off, but because it was such an ironic statement when she herself was in need of some positive thoughts.
Each time she stepped into her house, loneliness gripped her instantly and her heart sank. It must have sank into a bottomless pit because she literally could feel no emotions. Trudging towards her bedroom, she collapsed onto her bed, her body suddenly feeling heavy. As she clutched her bed sheets tightly, she sobbed and sobbed. With her face still pressed onto the wet sheets, her hand reached out to grasp the photo frame that she would always place beside her pillow.
Gazing up at it, Heather felt her heart breaking at the sight of her family photograph. Her mother. Her father, Her little brother. All huddled up together like a happy family. However, it would only be a sad memory. No matter how many times she tried, she could not tear her gaze away from the expensive car behind them.
The car that was responsible for the loss of her family members.
The truth is, Heather feels lonely most of the time. Underneath the huge smiles that reach her eyes, there hides a sadness within her. Nobody else but her knows about this. While everyone else has the notion that Heather behaves exactly like she does outside with others, they remain oblivious to her heart breaking little by little.
Sometimes, she thought that her heart was about to burst any moment now without warning. It was hard to tell. There were times when it became too much to bear that tears involuntarily formed around her eyes. When concerned people asked whether she was crying, she simply shrugged it off, claiming that her laughter brought out tears out of her at times before bursting into peals of laughter.
Oh, how fake she was.
Inside, she just feels so miserable. Her mind would sometimes drift to the negative realm when she stared into space too long so she put a lot of effort into becoming really attentive to her surroundings. Was someone telling a joke? Okay, then laugh regardless of whether it was funny or not. Was someone crying? Of course, it was obvious to comfort them! Almost always, Heather was able to cheer the upset person up. Once, there was this grateful person who was envious of Heather's bright and cheerful personality and wanted to steal some of her optimism. Heather would just laugh it off, but because it was such an ironic statement when she herself was in need of some positive thoughts.
Each time she stepped into her house, loneliness gripped her instantly and her heart sank. It must have sank into a bottomless pit because she literally could feel no emotions. Trudging towards her bedroom, she collapsed onto her bed, her body suddenly feeling heavy. As she clutched her bed sheets tightly, she sobbed and sobbed. With her face still pressed onto the wet sheets, her hand reached out to grasp the photo frame that she would always place beside her pillow.
Gazing up at it, Heather felt her heart breaking at the sight of her family photograph. Her mother. Her father, Her little brother. All huddled up together like a happy family. However, it would only be a sad memory. No matter how many times she tried, she could not tear her gaze away from the expensive car behind them.
The car that was responsible for the loss of her family members.
Tuesday, 9 February 2016
Short Story #80: Unlucky
Siblings Jake and Jerry loved walking through the forest which was a short distance away from their house on the way back from school. It was hard to explain but the walks felt calm and had the amazing ability for them to completely forget reality temporarily.
However, one day, their positive impression of the forest would change.
The long-awaited school break had finally arrived and Jake and Jerry celebrated by eating at their favourite pizza place with their friends. Happily conversing among themselves, Jake and Jerry was completely oblivious of their own surroundings.
As they had a curfew to meet, the brothers left first but not without paying their share of the bill. They waved their goodbye to their friends and headed back home. Since their house was a ten minutes' walk away, they took their time walking back home. What they had predicted to be a peaceful walk back home turned out wrong as suddenly, heavy rain poured down.
Unfortunately, they both did not bring along their umbrellas so they had to run to the nearest shelter, drenched from head to toe. As they shivered and tried to compose themselves, Jake noticed that they were standing under a large tree with a huge canopy, shielding them effectively from the rain.
"Phew! Now that was close!" Beside him, Jerry shot him a grin to which Jake returned. They were indeed lucky. To think that the forest near the house would bring such heavy benefits at untimely incidents like this.
At the corner of his eye, Jerry could see movement. Quirking an eyebrow, Jerry approached the culprit slowly, thinking that it was just a lost child seeking refuge from the rain like them too. Maybe they would be friendly and they could chat up while waiting for the rain to stop.
Just when Jerry was about to come closer, a knife struck his chest. Before he blacked out, he could hear a loud scream behind him.
The next day, a newspaper article was released, detailing the reports of two young boys who were found dead under a large tree in a forest.
However, one day, their positive impression of the forest would change.
The long-awaited school break had finally arrived and Jake and Jerry celebrated by eating at their favourite pizza place with their friends. Happily conversing among themselves, Jake and Jerry was completely oblivious of their own surroundings.
As they had a curfew to meet, the brothers left first but not without paying their share of the bill. They waved their goodbye to their friends and headed back home. Since their house was a ten minutes' walk away, they took their time walking back home. What they had predicted to be a peaceful walk back home turned out wrong as suddenly, heavy rain poured down.
Unfortunately, they both did not bring along their umbrellas so they had to run to the nearest shelter, drenched from head to toe. As they shivered and tried to compose themselves, Jake noticed that they were standing under a large tree with a huge canopy, shielding them effectively from the rain.
"Phew! Now that was close!" Beside him, Jerry shot him a grin to which Jake returned. They were indeed lucky. To think that the forest near the house would bring such heavy benefits at untimely incidents like this.
At the corner of his eye, Jerry could see movement. Quirking an eyebrow, Jerry approached the culprit slowly, thinking that it was just a lost child seeking refuge from the rain like them too. Maybe they would be friendly and they could chat up while waiting for the rain to stop.
Just when Jerry was about to come closer, a knife struck his chest. Before he blacked out, he could hear a loud scream behind him.
The next day, a newspaper article was released, detailing the reports of two young boys who were found dead under a large tree in a forest.
Monday, 8 February 2016
Short Story #79: Addiction
Lance was never an early riser and his addiction to video games could have contributed to that. It was normal for him to start plugging in the PS4 and play games for 7 hours straight till he slept at midnight. So, it was unsurprising that he lacked sleep.
It was the school holidays finally and his parents would not want him to waste all thirty days just by playing games.
Last week, Lance's parents had instructed him to clean the entire house since they would be away on a business trip for three days. Lance may or may not have heard his parents' instructions because his eyes were glued to the huge television screen when they said it.
To his parents' disappointment, they returned to a very messy house with empty bottles and dirty plates littered all over the floor. As they had expected, the only thing occupying Lance's mind was his beloved video games. They had tolerated this unhealthy behaviour for years so they did what responsible parents should do.
Destroy the PS4.
Well, not in the literal sense since it was bought with Lance's own hard-earned money and also, they are not that evil. So, they gave the game system to their neighbours for safekeeping. This was a great idea since their friendly neighbours owned a pitbull and Lance had a phobia of dogs after a stray dog ferociously chased after him when he innocently tried to feed it food. It was an unfortunate incident since Lance happened to be only two years old at that time.
With the PS4 out of the way, his parents set up a routine for Lance to follow closely throughout the remaining days left in his school holiday. This included having an adequate amount of sleep and waking up early. Also, it was compulsory for him to leave the house every day so that he would get exposed to plenty of sunlight and breathe in the fresh air outside. All the hours he spent being addicted to his games had led to him looking haggard and malnourished, worrying his parents greatly. With their close supervision, they made their only son adhere to their newly-set rules.
Of course, at first, Lance found it hard to follow but with support and determination, he gradually got used to the routine and in a matter of a week, he had grown to be quite alert and grown more productive. It worked so well that it seemed that Lance had totally forgotten that he owned a PS4.
It was the school holidays finally and his parents would not want him to waste all thirty days just by playing games.
Last week, Lance's parents had instructed him to clean the entire house since they would be away on a business trip for three days. Lance may or may not have heard his parents' instructions because his eyes were glued to the huge television screen when they said it.
To his parents' disappointment, they returned to a very messy house with empty bottles and dirty plates littered all over the floor. As they had expected, the only thing occupying Lance's mind was his beloved video games. They had tolerated this unhealthy behaviour for years so they did what responsible parents should do.
Destroy the PS4.
Well, not in the literal sense since it was bought with Lance's own hard-earned money and also, they are not that evil. So, they gave the game system to their neighbours for safekeeping. This was a great idea since their friendly neighbours owned a pitbull and Lance had a phobia of dogs after a stray dog ferociously chased after him when he innocently tried to feed it food. It was an unfortunate incident since Lance happened to be only two years old at that time.
With the PS4 out of the way, his parents set up a routine for Lance to follow closely throughout the remaining days left in his school holiday. This included having an adequate amount of sleep and waking up early. Also, it was compulsory for him to leave the house every day so that he would get exposed to plenty of sunlight and breathe in the fresh air outside. All the hours he spent being addicted to his games had led to him looking haggard and malnourished, worrying his parents greatly. With their close supervision, they made their only son adhere to their newly-set rules.
Of course, at first, Lance found it hard to follow but with support and determination, he gradually got used to the routine and in a matter of a week, he had grown to be quite alert and grown more productive. It worked so well that it seemed that Lance had totally forgotten that he owned a PS4.
Sunday, 7 February 2016
Short Story #78: Destiny
Jillian is a type of person who does not like relying on others. She feels like she would be a burden to anyone so she rarely asks for help.
Even when it is something that she does not have control over, she would still keep silent about her trouble. There was a time when she was separated from her family members on their plane ride to Switzerland due to some mistake by an amateur flight staff, she had difficulty opening her food packet. What made her more irritated was that the pair of scissors that she brought along was in her mother's luggage. Groaning, she slammed her fist on the food packet in frustration, startling the passengers sitting around her. Sensing her trouble, a young man in his late 20s kindly offered his help to open her food packet. Even though Jillian threw him a blank stare (she was internally debating whether she should accept his offer or not), the man reached over and opened it easily in his first try. A red blush decorated her pale cheeks as she nodded her head in thanks to the kind man. After that incident, Jillian worked hard to open everything that she could get her hands on, from her father's beer bottles to the sugar packets in the shops she visited to all the food cans at home. The simple truth is that Jillian felt a moment of weakness when she was unable to open the food packet and the fact that the male passenger was able to do it so easily somehow made her feel small. Till this day, she did not know his name and since he was just a random person who she met in a plane, it was virtually impossible to chance upon him ever again.
At least, that was what she thought until one day when she was cleaning up a previously used table in a coffee shop that she worked in. From her peripheral vision, she could see a pair of legs covered in black slacks nearing the table before stopping in front of it. At first, she thought the person was merely waiting for another person since the person refused to sit down. That was what she thought until...
"Hey, it's you." At that, Jillian raised her gaze up before her eyes widened. The other person mirrored her reaction, his already big smile reaching his eyes.
"Hello! Do you remember me?" The familiar man gave a small wave at her. Jillian gulped nervously. Wait. Why was she nervous? And also, her face started to feel very warm. It can't be that she's developing a fever, right?
"I don't think I introduced myself the other day. Hello, my name is Xavier," the man, Xavier, extended his hand and Jillian glanced at it before staring back at him and accepted it.
"Fancy meeting you again! I thought I'd never meet you again ever since the plane ride," Xavier shoved his hands into his jeans pockets before he glanced at Jillian and studied her closely, making the barista blush madly. "Are you...by any chance...mute?"
Jillian tilted her head to the side, as if confused by the statement. Before he could speak again, she gestured using her hands, which said the words 'Thank you'.
A look of realization flashed across the man's face before he shot her a disarming smile back. "You're welcome!"
Xavier approached to her side and pulled out a seat before gesturing to her to sit down which she complied. He then walked over to his side to sit down. Leaning over in interest, he grinned at her.
"I think we have a lot to catch up on."
Jillian merely smiled back as she felt her heart flutter. Ah this must be the feeling that most people talk about.
Love.
Even when it is something that she does not have control over, she would still keep silent about her trouble. There was a time when she was separated from her family members on their plane ride to Switzerland due to some mistake by an amateur flight staff, she had difficulty opening her food packet. What made her more irritated was that the pair of scissors that she brought along was in her mother's luggage. Groaning, she slammed her fist on the food packet in frustration, startling the passengers sitting around her. Sensing her trouble, a young man in his late 20s kindly offered his help to open her food packet. Even though Jillian threw him a blank stare (she was internally debating whether she should accept his offer or not), the man reached over and opened it easily in his first try. A red blush decorated her pale cheeks as she nodded her head in thanks to the kind man. After that incident, Jillian worked hard to open everything that she could get her hands on, from her father's beer bottles to the sugar packets in the shops she visited to all the food cans at home. The simple truth is that Jillian felt a moment of weakness when she was unable to open the food packet and the fact that the male passenger was able to do it so easily somehow made her feel small. Till this day, she did not know his name and since he was just a random person who she met in a plane, it was virtually impossible to chance upon him ever again.
At least, that was what she thought until one day when she was cleaning up a previously used table in a coffee shop that she worked in. From her peripheral vision, she could see a pair of legs covered in black slacks nearing the table before stopping in front of it. At first, she thought the person was merely waiting for another person since the person refused to sit down. That was what she thought until...
"Hey, it's you." At that, Jillian raised her gaze up before her eyes widened. The other person mirrored her reaction, his already big smile reaching his eyes.
"Hello! Do you remember me?" The familiar man gave a small wave at her. Jillian gulped nervously. Wait. Why was she nervous? And also, her face started to feel very warm. It can't be that she's developing a fever, right?
"I don't think I introduced myself the other day. Hello, my name is Xavier," the man, Xavier, extended his hand and Jillian glanced at it before staring back at him and accepted it.
"Fancy meeting you again! I thought I'd never meet you again ever since the plane ride," Xavier shoved his hands into his jeans pockets before he glanced at Jillian and studied her closely, making the barista blush madly. "Are you...by any chance...mute?"
Jillian tilted her head to the side, as if confused by the statement. Before he could speak again, she gestured using her hands, which said the words 'Thank you'.
A look of realization flashed across the man's face before he shot her a disarming smile back. "You're welcome!"
Xavier approached to her side and pulled out a seat before gesturing to her to sit down which she complied. He then walked over to his side to sit down. Leaning over in interest, he grinned at her.
"I think we have a lot to catch up on."
Jillian merely smiled back as she felt her heart flutter. Ah this must be the feeling that most people talk about.
Love.
Saturday, 6 February 2016
Short Story #77: Medicine
I was not feeling sick today. I actually felt pretty normal, but my nose suddenly became runny briefly in the morning and then at night. So I took some medicine.
Of course, the medicine could cause drowsiness so in a matter of a few hours, it began to take effect and my eyelids slowly start to droop as my mind went to dreamland. It was hard to fight the feeling. It felt almost tempting to just give in to the overwhelming effects of the medicine but I still have my daily writing blog to update. Which is why some 'short stories' ended up becoming my personal rants. I had actually thought of transforming those rants to storylines with fictional characters but then again, that would be a little unnecessary since those rants reflect my personal lives and somehow, I had to perform some sort of catharsis to let go these suppressed emotions inside me. Even now, I am yawning uncontrollably, trying to fight my doziness.
So, last month, I had fallen sick with only a slight fever and headache so I did not have to take antibiotics daily. This meant that my immune system is still strong but I foresee me going down tih a high fever later this year. Hopefully, it would happen during my school break because I do not like missing lessons and having my participation remarks being compromised as a result. It is easy to forget to drink mineral water daily when I am off taking my good health for granted and wasting my precious time away by doing nothing but slowly sabotaging my own health.
Many times I have read that an adequate amount of sleep and almost 30 minutes of exercise daily are very important to maintaining a good health but I still find myself unable to heed two pieces of simple advice. Why? Well, to sort of comfort myself a little, I did sleep as early as 11 p.m. earlier this week. Truly, that surprised me and I woke up feeling refreshed though I still had the annoying recurring problem of refusing to step out of my bed and shower. Haha.
Onward to the medicine, I almost fell asleep just now and while I was slowly falling asleep, I listened to a song in my phone and in my dazed state, I felt as if the verse replayed itself then I frowned and shook myself awake to realize that it was a different second verse. Medicine really makes you feel high and unfocused. Even though I am disappointed at myself for not being productive today, sleep is important and I should not try to fight off the effects of the medicine.
So good night!
Of course, the medicine could cause drowsiness so in a matter of a few hours, it began to take effect and my eyelids slowly start to droop as my mind went to dreamland. It was hard to fight the feeling. It felt almost tempting to just give in to the overwhelming effects of the medicine but I still have my daily writing blog to update. Which is why some 'short stories' ended up becoming my personal rants. I had actually thought of transforming those rants to storylines with fictional characters but then again, that would be a little unnecessary since those rants reflect my personal lives and somehow, I had to perform some sort of catharsis to let go these suppressed emotions inside me. Even now, I am yawning uncontrollably, trying to fight my doziness.
So, last month, I had fallen sick with only a slight fever and headache so I did not have to take antibiotics daily. This meant that my immune system is still strong but I foresee me going down tih a high fever later this year. Hopefully, it would happen during my school break because I do not like missing lessons and having my participation remarks being compromised as a result. It is easy to forget to drink mineral water daily when I am off taking my good health for granted and wasting my precious time away by doing nothing but slowly sabotaging my own health.
Many times I have read that an adequate amount of sleep and almost 30 minutes of exercise daily are very important to maintaining a good health but I still find myself unable to heed two pieces of simple advice. Why? Well, to sort of comfort myself a little, I did sleep as early as 11 p.m. earlier this week. Truly, that surprised me and I woke up feeling refreshed though I still had the annoying recurring problem of refusing to step out of my bed and shower. Haha.
Onward to the medicine, I almost fell asleep just now and while I was slowly falling asleep, I listened to a song in my phone and in my dazed state, I felt as if the verse replayed itself then I frowned and shook myself awake to realize that it was a different second verse. Medicine really makes you feel high and unfocused. Even though I am disappointed at myself for not being productive today, sleep is important and I should not try to fight off the effects of the medicine.
So good night!
Friday, 5 February 2016
Short Story #76: Writer's Block
Many thoughts automatically rush to my mind when I am attending lessons in school or when I am on the bus or train. My most favourite thoughts are when I have ideas for my own stories because I instantly get excited for them. Suddenly, I wished that I have the extraordinary ability to teleport to my room and start working on those stories, stemming them from the very ideas that mysteriously filled my mind.
However, once I reached home, that feeling of excitement disappeared and the eagerness in me is only a slowly dying light. And then, I am back to square one. Just like the blank page before me, my mind becomes blank. Where did my muse go? How dare it tease me whenever I go out only for it to just bail on me when I am blessed with spare time to write? I grumbled these words to myself.
I hate having writers' block for obvious reasons. First of all, the completion of the chapter would get delayed and I do not like that one bit due to the fact that all of my plans would get pushed back too. Not to mention, the readers of my story would be kept waiting and I hate to keep people waiting.
Of course, you'd be asking...if I hate being held in this situation so much, why can't I just put more effort in putting out words into the document or paper? Well, let me tell you something. This is not some piece of excrement that I can just force it to come out. I know very well that a terrible draft is better than no draft but it is hard to execute that in real life for one sole reason. I am scared of making mistakes, even if they are intentional. I don't like to write something, thinking that I am allowed to make as many mistakes as I can. So, the problem lies with me. I just have a perfectionist mind. Too many expectations that I probably cannot meet, what with my many human flaws.
Even when I am meeting my daily goal of churning out short stories in my blog till I could see the scroll bar, I still face writer's block. It is a horrible feeling. But at the same time, I think that writer's block is going to be a recurring problem for all writers, no matter their skill levels and experience levels. The way to break out of this wall is extreme persistence. The persistence to see the chapter to its completion but with quality writing and ideas. Not doing it half-heartedly. We should not use 'writer's block' as an excuse for ending a story or a chapter unsatisfactorily. If we are still not satisfied with the final product, then take a break and come back after to read it again. Make the final editing and look over it again, smile then publish it. Easy as pie. Then again, it's easier said than done.
Of course, we are all works in progress so hopefully this wall would be easier to break with more experience and as time goes by!
However, once I reached home, that feeling of excitement disappeared and the eagerness in me is only a slowly dying light. And then, I am back to square one. Just like the blank page before me, my mind becomes blank. Where did my muse go? How dare it tease me whenever I go out only for it to just bail on me when I am blessed with spare time to write? I grumbled these words to myself.
I hate having writers' block for obvious reasons. First of all, the completion of the chapter would get delayed and I do not like that one bit due to the fact that all of my plans would get pushed back too. Not to mention, the readers of my story would be kept waiting and I hate to keep people waiting.
Of course, you'd be asking...if I hate being held in this situation so much, why can't I just put more effort in putting out words into the document or paper? Well, let me tell you something. This is not some piece of excrement that I can just force it to come out. I know very well that a terrible draft is better than no draft but it is hard to execute that in real life for one sole reason. I am scared of making mistakes, even if they are intentional. I don't like to write something, thinking that I am allowed to make as many mistakes as I can. So, the problem lies with me. I just have a perfectionist mind. Too many expectations that I probably cannot meet, what with my many human flaws.
Even when I am meeting my daily goal of churning out short stories in my blog till I could see the scroll bar, I still face writer's block. It is a horrible feeling. But at the same time, I think that writer's block is going to be a recurring problem for all writers, no matter their skill levels and experience levels. The way to break out of this wall is extreme persistence. The persistence to see the chapter to its completion but with quality writing and ideas. Not doing it half-heartedly. We should not use 'writer's block' as an excuse for ending a story or a chapter unsatisfactorily. If we are still not satisfied with the final product, then take a break and come back after to read it again. Make the final editing and look over it again, smile then publish it. Easy as pie. Then again, it's easier said than done.
Of course, we are all works in progress so hopefully this wall would be easier to break with more experience and as time goes by!
Thursday, 4 February 2016
Short Story #75: Hungry and Tired
It was funny how not having lunch at all would affect you so much.
Today, I had three school lessons that spanned from morning till evening with two one and a half hour breaks in between. Of course, I spent the first one having breakfast and feeling invigorated for the day, especially after sharing some hilarious and epic jokes with my friends.
The second lesson of the day was one of the best lessons so far this semester. Maybe I just have a thing for watching a show and then forming opinions around the content showed and sharing them in a group of five to six people. Although a recurring problem for such ways would be finding a spot where tall people would not be blocking my view of the screen...
So, after the lesson ended, I thought since I was still full, I would spend my second break just chatting with my friends and not have lunch. WORST IDEA EVER. I am definitely not referring to the cheerful phone call that I shared with my friends. I am referring to the decision where I intentionally left myself hungry and thirsty. The signs were not obvious to me at first but at the start of the last lesson of the day, my eyelids became heavy and started to droop - I was unable to stay awake and sober to have an intellectual conversation. I barely made it till the end of lesson, of course not without unintentionally displaying some weird behaviour that I would not recount for the sake of my sanity.
As I headed home, my throbbing head became incredibly obvious. I had told my friend about my condition and she smoothly replied that my empty stomach had been giving signals relentlessly to my brain, forcing me to eat which resulted in a painful headache. WOW I did not think of that at all!
That being said, I had dinner which I had been anticipating throughout the journey home and I instantly felt rejuvenated! Unfortunately, that glorious feeling was only temporary because in just half an hour, I felt lethargic and my eyelids started becoming heavier again. Once I managed to wake myself up, my mind was still mushy and fried that I felt like a zombie walking around my house (and even now, typing on the keyboard). My mind screamed that exhaustion had truly made me stop my streak of writing short stories every day and I felt really appalled about it, believing that it was true.
Fortunately, it isn't! So I'm still proud of myself for working hard every day and inserting some time despite my exhaustion and limited time, to write a short story every day. I deserve a pat on my back at least.
Today, I had three school lessons that spanned from morning till evening with two one and a half hour breaks in between. Of course, I spent the first one having breakfast and feeling invigorated for the day, especially after sharing some hilarious and epic jokes with my friends.
The second lesson of the day was one of the best lessons so far this semester. Maybe I just have a thing for watching a show and then forming opinions around the content showed and sharing them in a group of five to six people. Although a recurring problem for such ways would be finding a spot where tall people would not be blocking my view of the screen...
So, after the lesson ended, I thought since I was still full, I would spend my second break just chatting with my friends and not have lunch. WORST IDEA EVER. I am definitely not referring to the cheerful phone call that I shared with my friends. I am referring to the decision where I intentionally left myself hungry and thirsty. The signs were not obvious to me at first but at the start of the last lesson of the day, my eyelids became heavy and started to droop - I was unable to stay awake and sober to have an intellectual conversation. I barely made it till the end of lesson, of course not without unintentionally displaying some weird behaviour that I would not recount for the sake of my sanity.
As I headed home, my throbbing head became incredibly obvious. I had told my friend about my condition and she smoothly replied that my empty stomach had been giving signals relentlessly to my brain, forcing me to eat which resulted in a painful headache. WOW I did not think of that at all!
That being said, I had dinner which I had been anticipating throughout the journey home and I instantly felt rejuvenated! Unfortunately, that glorious feeling was only temporary because in just half an hour, I felt lethargic and my eyelids started becoming heavier again. Once I managed to wake myself up, my mind was still mushy and fried that I felt like a zombie walking around my house (and even now, typing on the keyboard). My mind screamed that exhaustion had truly made me stop my streak of writing short stories every day and I felt really appalled about it, believing that it was true.
Fortunately, it isn't! So I'm still proud of myself for working hard every day and inserting some time despite my exhaustion and limited time, to write a short story every day. I deserve a pat on my back at least.
Wednesday, 3 February 2016
Short Story #74: My Favourite Morning Cartoon
I felt as if there was an ulterior motive behind my favourite cartoon show being shown in the early morning during the weekends. Obviously, it was to wake me up early. And it was a damn good tactic. To think that I would conjure up the massive effort to actually wake up early. I did it all so that I would not even miss a single second of my favourite shows.
There were three outcomes.
The first would be me successfully waking up at 6 a.m., the earliest on a typical weekend. I would have plenty of time to shower, do plenty of exercise and have breakfast. This would be the ideal outcome since I would be able to sit in front of the television on time for my favourite show to come up.
A slightly painful outcome would be the second one where I would oversleep and not wake up at the sound of my alarm. When I finally woke up, the show was already playing on the television. As my eyes fluttered open, I glanced at my surroundings sleepily. My tired eyes continued to dart around till they met the clock. Once I saw it and realized what time it was, I instantly sobered up and scrambled to find the remote control for the television. If I was lucky, there would only be five minutes left till the show ended. And even then, even five minutes would still be worth the salvation. Once the show ended, I would moan and groan, scolding myself for not waking up early. I just needed the motivation and apparently, I was severely lacking in it. Next time I would wake up very early, I reminded myself repeatedly.
The worst thing that could happen to me would be the third one, where...wait for it...I missed out the show entirely. That would be the worst nightmare ever, and this would set up a terrible start to my precious weekends where I was supposed to relax and enjoy to my heart's content.
Then, several years later, it got me thinking...that this idea of placing cartoons that had large fanbases, the ones where most children look forward to the most, in the morning slot, it was actually pretty strategic thinking. Just think about it, it helped to discipline the young children, giving them plenty of motivation to wake up early and not waste time sleeping. Such tactics successfully got their butts off their beds.
So, now I am grateful to the television broadcasting stations for coming up with this technique.
There were three outcomes.
The first would be me successfully waking up at 6 a.m., the earliest on a typical weekend. I would have plenty of time to shower, do plenty of exercise and have breakfast. This would be the ideal outcome since I would be able to sit in front of the television on time for my favourite show to come up.
A slightly painful outcome would be the second one where I would oversleep and not wake up at the sound of my alarm. When I finally woke up, the show was already playing on the television. As my eyes fluttered open, I glanced at my surroundings sleepily. My tired eyes continued to dart around till they met the clock. Once I saw it and realized what time it was, I instantly sobered up and scrambled to find the remote control for the television. If I was lucky, there would only be five minutes left till the show ended. And even then, even five minutes would still be worth the salvation. Once the show ended, I would moan and groan, scolding myself for not waking up early. I just needed the motivation and apparently, I was severely lacking in it. Next time I would wake up very early, I reminded myself repeatedly.
The worst thing that could happen to me would be the third one, where...wait for it...I missed out the show entirely. That would be the worst nightmare ever, and this would set up a terrible start to my precious weekends where I was supposed to relax and enjoy to my heart's content.
Then, several years later, it got me thinking...that this idea of placing cartoons that had large fanbases, the ones where most children look forward to the most, in the morning slot, it was actually pretty strategic thinking. Just think about it, it helped to discipline the young children, giving them plenty of motivation to wake up early and not waste time sleeping. Such tactics successfully got their butts off their beds.
So, now I am grateful to the television broadcasting stations for coming up with this technique.
Tuesday, 2 February 2016
Short Story #73: Nightmare
Every night, it was the same weird dream.
Night after night, I was being chased by a double-headed wolf in a vast jungle. Panic would fill my entire gut and I would run, desperately searching for a way out. Away from this ferocious dog! Every time, I would stupidly look over my shoulder and would see rows of sharp canine teeth with drool dripping from their gaping mouths. As if they were ready sink into my flesh any time now...
And like every dream, I would chance upon a bright light and I would lit up in happiness as I rushed towards it. Only for it to disappear when I was a couple steps away from freedom. Desperate for an escape, I would continue moving forward until my face slammed onto a hard, stone wall that was intent on keeping me in. I would punch on the wall till my fists bled and I would yell till my throat went hoarse.
And then I would hear loud, intimidating growls behind me. Then I knew. And once the sharp teeth grazed my skin, I would scream in agony as I jolted awake, bathed in sweat. Fear gripped my throat as I darted my panicked gaze around my dark room. As if the double-headed wolf would materialize out of nowhere and attack me once more.
Since it was a recurring dream-no...a NIGHTMARE, I gradually believed that it would come true in due time. It was sending me a message. Or at least trying to. I had no idea what such monstrous dream meant. I only cared whether it meant good news or bad news. But of course, with the same horrible fate that I ended up with, it surely could not be good.
Months later, my mother's ecstatic screams instantly caught my attention. I lifted my gaze from the book I was reading and asked her what was the matter.
She shot me an unrestrained grin and I felt my stomach sink.
"I'm expecting twins."
Gulp.
Night after night, I was being chased by a double-headed wolf in a vast jungle. Panic would fill my entire gut and I would run, desperately searching for a way out. Away from this ferocious dog! Every time, I would stupidly look over my shoulder and would see rows of sharp canine teeth with drool dripping from their gaping mouths. As if they were ready sink into my flesh any time now...
And like every dream, I would chance upon a bright light and I would lit up in happiness as I rushed towards it. Only for it to disappear when I was a couple steps away from freedom. Desperate for an escape, I would continue moving forward until my face slammed onto a hard, stone wall that was intent on keeping me in. I would punch on the wall till my fists bled and I would yell till my throat went hoarse.
And then I would hear loud, intimidating growls behind me. Then I knew. And once the sharp teeth grazed my skin, I would scream in agony as I jolted awake, bathed in sweat. Fear gripped my throat as I darted my panicked gaze around my dark room. As if the double-headed wolf would materialize out of nowhere and attack me once more.
Since it was a recurring dream-no...a NIGHTMARE, I gradually believed that it would come true in due time. It was sending me a message. Or at least trying to. I had no idea what such monstrous dream meant. I only cared whether it meant good news or bad news. But of course, with the same horrible fate that I ended up with, it surely could not be good.
Months later, my mother's ecstatic screams instantly caught my attention. I lifted my gaze from the book I was reading and asked her what was the matter.
She shot me an unrestrained grin and I felt my stomach sink.
"I'm expecting twins."
Gulp.
Monday, 1 February 2016
Short Story #72: Revision
Ever since my new semester started, suddenly I have been swamped with loads of things to do. Aside from the obvious homework, I had a number of things to do and prepare for, both physically and mentally. No longer is the homework where I have to print a hardcopy and then write the answers on it but I have to create a blog where I have to post weekly and comment on a shared Google Document, among others. While there are two modules that do not have have examinations, there are still other things that worry me about those two modules. They still have plenty of things where I have to prepare for.
It is hard to believe that I had endured almost 7 hours at school back when I was younger and now, I could barely survive one and half an hour lecture! I wonder what changed. Maybe I have gotten lazier and more unmotivated to do well.
But I cannot keep up with this lazy and unmotivated attitude of course. This bachelor degree is freaking costly and the semester course fees make me almost want to shed tears at the mere sight of those numbers. So I cannot afford to repeat any module. Also, I have already made my goals for the grades for all modules. The lowest grade that I have gotten is a B- and I am quite disappointed at that. I mean, the modules that I have completed were all walks in a park. Very easy and not a challenge at all. But I am afraid to say that I underestimated those modules a whole lot. I constantly did not put any effort into my studying and admittedly, I could have done better. Despite aiming for high grades, I did not put in enough effort to do as well as I expected myself to do so.
Once again, for this semester, I have already set my targets for all my modules. I just need to set my expectations and attitudes straight too. All while maintaining my interest to write and the need to update my existing stories till their completion. Not to mention, I have to complete my 2016 Reading Challenge which I set as 30 books.
I admit, these past few days, I had been horribly distracted and I only completed the non-academic goals. School-wise, I have only completed the homework part. But at least, I did not delay the homework like I used to back in previous two semesters so I could at least cheer myself up with that good news and give myself a pat on the back on the accomplishment.
There will be a long weekend coming right up after this whole week ends and I am looking forward for that. I have to catch up with my studies and should always keep up with I am learning. Time is precious and I must waste such scarce resource.
It is hard to believe that I had endured almost 7 hours at school back when I was younger and now, I could barely survive one and half an hour lecture! I wonder what changed. Maybe I have gotten lazier and more unmotivated to do well.
But I cannot keep up with this lazy and unmotivated attitude of course. This bachelor degree is freaking costly and the semester course fees make me almost want to shed tears at the mere sight of those numbers. So I cannot afford to repeat any module. Also, I have already made my goals for the grades for all modules. The lowest grade that I have gotten is a B- and I am quite disappointed at that. I mean, the modules that I have completed were all walks in a park. Very easy and not a challenge at all. But I am afraid to say that I underestimated those modules a whole lot. I constantly did not put any effort into my studying and admittedly, I could have done better. Despite aiming for high grades, I did not put in enough effort to do as well as I expected myself to do so.
Once again, for this semester, I have already set my targets for all my modules. I just need to set my expectations and attitudes straight too. All while maintaining my interest to write and the need to update my existing stories till their completion. Not to mention, I have to complete my 2016 Reading Challenge which I set as 30 books.
I admit, these past few days, I had been horribly distracted and I only completed the non-academic goals. School-wise, I have only completed the homework part. But at least, I did not delay the homework like I used to back in previous two semesters so I could at least cheer myself up with that good news and give myself a pat on the back on the accomplishment.
There will be a long weekend coming right up after this whole week ends and I am looking forward for that. I have to catch up with my studies and should always keep up with I am learning. Time is precious and I must waste such scarce resource.
Sunday, 31 January 2016
Short Story #71: Homework
"I give up." Jacob groaned and dropped his head on the desk.
Desiree lifted her gaze from her textbook to look at her boyfriend. A frown marred her smooth forehead at the fact that he easily gave up. Another frustrated groan left Jacob's mouth before he turned his head and opened his eyes to look at the pretty girl who was sitting at the desk beside him.
"My hand is starting to feel sore," Jacob complained. He chucked the pen he was currently holding behind him to prove his point and pouted, earning a gentle laugh from Desiree.
Shaking her head fondly, Desire closed her book and reached out to touch her boyfriend's cheek lightly with her fingers before pinching it with a little roughly, eliciting a yelp from him. At once, Jacob sat up straight, caressing the sore spot gently.
"Oww...what did you do that for?" Jacob grimaced. From the outside, Desiree looked like a gentle girl who looked like she could not carry a box full of weights. Well, that was indeed true but she had a hidden strength inside of her that she would reveal only when she was provoked.
"Come on. You are left with only two questions. You can do this. Just concentrate and make sure you get all of them right," Desiree picked up the discarded pen on the floor and placed it gently on Jacob's desk. When Jacob merely sat there and focused on glaring at his math homework instead, Desire flicked her boyfriend's forehead hard, earning yet another suprised yelp from him.
"Hurry up! Or I won't drive you home," Desire crossed her arms, appearing as intimidating as possible.
Eyes widening, Jacob was about to protest when he caught a menacing glint in his girlfriend's eyes. Finding his voice stuck in his throat, Jacob stuck his tongue childishly at her before turning his attention to his homework.
After an hour had passed, Jacob scribbled the last few mathematical workings before raising his hands in triumph, as if he had won a lottery. He watched nervously as his girlfriend examined his answers before turning back at him and shot him a proud smile.
"All correct!" Desiree giggled when Jacob let out a loud cheer before he hugged her, lifting her up from the ground.
"Okay! Okay! Put me down now!" Jacob did not appear to listen and continued to swing her around him repeatedly till they both felt dizzy. They must have caused a commotion because a teacher who was walking past their classroom scolded them and ordered them to leave. Seeing that they were already heading home, they complied, smiling and interlacing their fingers together.
Desiree lifted her gaze from her textbook to look at her boyfriend. A frown marred her smooth forehead at the fact that he easily gave up. Another frustrated groan left Jacob's mouth before he turned his head and opened his eyes to look at the pretty girl who was sitting at the desk beside him.
"My hand is starting to feel sore," Jacob complained. He chucked the pen he was currently holding behind him to prove his point and pouted, earning a gentle laugh from Desiree.
Shaking her head fondly, Desire closed her book and reached out to touch her boyfriend's cheek lightly with her fingers before pinching it with a little roughly, eliciting a yelp from him. At once, Jacob sat up straight, caressing the sore spot gently.
"Oww...what did you do that for?" Jacob grimaced. From the outside, Desiree looked like a gentle girl who looked like she could not carry a box full of weights. Well, that was indeed true but she had a hidden strength inside of her that she would reveal only when she was provoked.
"Come on. You are left with only two questions. You can do this. Just concentrate and make sure you get all of them right," Desiree picked up the discarded pen on the floor and placed it gently on Jacob's desk. When Jacob merely sat there and focused on glaring at his math homework instead, Desire flicked her boyfriend's forehead hard, earning yet another suprised yelp from him.
"Hurry up! Or I won't drive you home," Desire crossed her arms, appearing as intimidating as possible.
Eyes widening, Jacob was about to protest when he caught a menacing glint in his girlfriend's eyes. Finding his voice stuck in his throat, Jacob stuck his tongue childishly at her before turning his attention to his homework.
After an hour had passed, Jacob scribbled the last few mathematical workings before raising his hands in triumph, as if he had won a lottery. He watched nervously as his girlfriend examined his answers before turning back at him and shot him a proud smile.
"All correct!" Desiree giggled when Jacob let out a loud cheer before he hugged her, lifting her up from the ground.
"Okay! Okay! Put me down now!" Jacob did not appear to listen and continued to swing her around him repeatedly till they both felt dizzy. They must have caused a commotion because a teacher who was walking past their classroom scolded them and ordered them to leave. Seeing that they were already heading home, they complied, smiling and interlacing their fingers together.
Saturday, 30 January 2016
Short Story #70: Missing You
The wall clock read 12.34 a.m. and there was still no word from Dahlia. Most likely, her phone battery died out and that would be very inconvenient because there was no way of reaching her to ask where she was.
Chris was worried beyond belief. He must have had bore a hole on the carpet he had been restlessly pacing around on but he just could not help it. He was given the task to take care of his little sister for just fifteen minutes and he could not even do that simple task. Of all the times he could have chosen to be unfocused, he chose those fifteen minutes and now he was dealing with the consequences. What if some pervert chance upon her? Or a serial killer? Chris involuntarily shivered at that.
A loud grunt startled Chris. He nervously glanced at his father who was sitting on the couch with a menacing scowl on his face. Of course Chris knew that scowl was directed towards him - the irresponsible brother who was distracted by a limited edition Batman figurine. Chris really regretted his mistake and would even go on his knees to apologize but he knew very well that in doing so, Dahlia would not just simply appear at their doorstep. If his mother was still alive, she would have been livid as well but she had better patience than her husband in spite of the dire circumstances since what has been done cannot be undone.
Wiping his sweat off his face, Chris let out a heavy sigh. He had spent the past three hours searching for his little sister everywhere in the amusement park but was met with no good news. He even tried asking around but none of the people there noticed the small and petite girl. Trying to control his tears, Chris bit his lip hard that he felt some blood coming out. Guilt was quickly eating him up and the discouraging stares from his father was not helping things. Chris felt suffocated so he headed upstairs to his sister's room.
Dahlia's room was as big as his and was decorated with pink wallpapers with posters of unicorns and some of her favourite cartoons. Chris walked towards the small bed with a pink comforter and slowly sat down at the edge of it. He started surveying the room, taking in all the features of the room and finally realized how much he missed his sister. He had always viewed his little sister as a huge nuisance and had called her a bunch of unkind names without even batting an eye. And now, he regretted doing all that and he may have had no opportunity to apologize to her. Chris tried controlling his tears but a choked sob sounded from his throat and in a few seconds, he was bawling, not caring if his neighbours were woken up from his loud cries.
"Chris? Why are you crying?" Chris whipped his head at the source of the soft, familiar voice to find Dahlia slipping out from the comforter and rubbing her eyes cutely.
"Dahlia?! You're back!" Chris raised his voice, in excitement and relief before enveloping his little sister in a tight embrace, burying his head at the crook of her neck. He could tell that his sister was confused without looking at her but she said nothing and returned the hug. The details could wait. For now, Chris wanted to relish the affectionate moment.
Chris was worried beyond belief. He must have had bore a hole on the carpet he had been restlessly pacing around on but he just could not help it. He was given the task to take care of his little sister for just fifteen minutes and he could not even do that simple task. Of all the times he could have chosen to be unfocused, he chose those fifteen minutes and now he was dealing with the consequences. What if some pervert chance upon her? Or a serial killer? Chris involuntarily shivered at that.
A loud grunt startled Chris. He nervously glanced at his father who was sitting on the couch with a menacing scowl on his face. Of course Chris knew that scowl was directed towards him - the irresponsible brother who was distracted by a limited edition Batman figurine. Chris really regretted his mistake and would even go on his knees to apologize but he knew very well that in doing so, Dahlia would not just simply appear at their doorstep. If his mother was still alive, she would have been livid as well but she had better patience than her husband in spite of the dire circumstances since what has been done cannot be undone.
Wiping his sweat off his face, Chris let out a heavy sigh. He had spent the past three hours searching for his little sister everywhere in the amusement park but was met with no good news. He even tried asking around but none of the people there noticed the small and petite girl. Trying to control his tears, Chris bit his lip hard that he felt some blood coming out. Guilt was quickly eating him up and the discouraging stares from his father was not helping things. Chris felt suffocated so he headed upstairs to his sister's room.
Dahlia's room was as big as his and was decorated with pink wallpapers with posters of unicorns and some of her favourite cartoons. Chris walked towards the small bed with a pink comforter and slowly sat down at the edge of it. He started surveying the room, taking in all the features of the room and finally realized how much he missed his sister. He had always viewed his little sister as a huge nuisance and had called her a bunch of unkind names without even batting an eye. And now, he regretted doing all that and he may have had no opportunity to apologize to her. Chris tried controlling his tears but a choked sob sounded from his throat and in a few seconds, he was bawling, not caring if his neighbours were woken up from his loud cries.
"Chris? Why are you crying?" Chris whipped his head at the source of the soft, familiar voice to find Dahlia slipping out from the comforter and rubbing her eyes cutely.
"Dahlia?! You're back!" Chris raised his voice, in excitement and relief before enveloping his little sister in a tight embrace, burying his head at the crook of her neck. He could tell that his sister was confused without looking at her but she said nothing and returned the hug. The details could wait. For now, Chris wanted to relish the affectionate moment.
Friday, 29 January 2016
Short Story #69: Personal Fable
Ever since I had bought new clothes, I could not wait to wear them. Once I arrived home, I diligently ironed all of them and hung them behind my bedroom door with a huge grin on my face. Yes, I did that. Who wouldn't? People would be lying if they said they never pictured themselves wearing the clothes they just bought.
So, today, for school, I dressed myself in this red sleeveless top with black accents, completing the look with a red cardigan and a not-so-new black slacks. Really, I felt like a new woman! The feeling of the newly-worn fabric to my skin felt wonderful!
After I had crossed the road, something suddenly clicked inside my mind. From the way I dressed, won't I stick out like a sore thumb? I mean doesn't the colour combination of red and black remind anyone of a ladybug? As soon as those awful thoughts came to my mind, my face paled. Oh no! I would not want people giving me odd looks and snickering at my odd sense of fashion. Then I had wished that I had asked for a second opinion before wearing the outfit for the day. So, I shrugged it off and headed to the train station, but still with the thoughts about how a crowd would react to my outfit in my mind.
When I boarded the train, I went inside to where there was plenty of space and stood there while facing the direction where the doors would open. Usually, I preferred to stand up as opposed to sitting down, even when there were vacant seats available. To me, I think other people may need the seats more than me. So, I stood straight while gripping the handrail above me loosely, listening to the music blasting in my ears.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed an old woman ,who was previously staring into space, lifting her gaze towards me and throwing me strange looks. Oh my, has someone already figured out that my outfit made me resemble a certain insect? I maintained a calm and collected demeanor outside but inside, I began to panic, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
A few minutes later, I heard a loud cough from a man behind me despite the loud music in my ears. Then I started to think - did he just choke after seeing my outfit of choice? I glanced to my side, hoping that I could find the culprit there. Were other people starting to notice too? I had no idea of knowing! Suddenly, I felt self-conscious and grew worried but I thought to myself, 'This must be a personal fable that I learnt in class' where I think that the world revolves around me and despite my age, I still have not outgrown it. Immediately, the self-consciousness fades away and I alighted from the train with confident steps and chin up.
So, today, for school, I dressed myself in this red sleeveless top with black accents, completing the look with a red cardigan and a not-so-new black slacks. Really, I felt like a new woman! The feeling of the newly-worn fabric to my skin felt wonderful!
After I had crossed the road, something suddenly clicked inside my mind. From the way I dressed, won't I stick out like a sore thumb? I mean doesn't the colour combination of red and black remind anyone of a ladybug? As soon as those awful thoughts came to my mind, my face paled. Oh no! I would not want people giving me odd looks and snickering at my odd sense of fashion. Then I had wished that I had asked for a second opinion before wearing the outfit for the day. So, I shrugged it off and headed to the train station, but still with the thoughts about how a crowd would react to my outfit in my mind.
When I boarded the train, I went inside to where there was plenty of space and stood there while facing the direction where the doors would open. Usually, I preferred to stand up as opposed to sitting down, even when there were vacant seats available. To me, I think other people may need the seats more than me. So, I stood straight while gripping the handrail above me loosely, listening to the music blasting in my ears.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed an old woman ,who was previously staring into space, lifting her gaze towards me and throwing me strange looks. Oh my, has someone already figured out that my outfit made me resemble a certain insect? I maintained a calm and collected demeanor outside but inside, I began to panic, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
A few minutes later, I heard a loud cough from a man behind me despite the loud music in my ears. Then I started to think - did he just choke after seeing my outfit of choice? I glanced to my side, hoping that I could find the culprit there. Were other people starting to notice too? I had no idea of knowing! Suddenly, I felt self-conscious and grew worried but I thought to myself, 'This must be a personal fable that I learnt in class' where I think that the world revolves around me and despite my age, I still have not outgrown it. Immediately, the self-consciousness fades away and I alighted from the train with confident steps and chin up.
Thursday, 28 January 2016
Short Story #68: Audition
Elena had been waiting for this audition to show she had what it took to be a dancer. For years, she had been practising for hours to no end every day just to prepare herself for this momentous moment. Who would have thought she would be scouted by Paragon Entertainment - the biggest entertainment agency in the country? Definitely not her!
Excited beyond belief, Elena could not help fidgeting in her seat as she waited anxiously for her number to be called. Only the people who would be attending the auditions were able to enter the auditorium so sadly, her parents and boyfriend were not able to support her from a close distance. In order to make up for it, they all sent her encouraging messages and promising her a huge dinner if she were to ace this audition. And even if she failed, they would not love her any lesser. Such sweet words automatically brought a huge grin to Elena's face.
Before she knew it, her number was finally called and she walked nervously to the audition room where she would be performing in front of the judges - all of them being professional dancers and choreographers who won countless number of dancing-related awards and with a prolific resume to their name. She felt extremely small being in the same room with extremely famous people.
Taking a deep breath, she introduced herself and that she would be performing her routine. She chose a pretty tough choreography but she had practised hard in order to excel in it and she felt that this would impress the judges. Forgetting about her nervousness and remembering the immense support from her parents, she danced like there was no tomorrow. As she immersed herself in dancing, she quickly forgot that she was performing in front of crowd and unconsciously smiled, thoroughly enjoying herself.
Once the music stopped, she slowly snapped out of her trance, as if suddenly remembering that there were actually people in front of her. Then it clicked on her. It did not matter if she was rejected. She thoroughly enjoyed dancing and even if her skills were considered inadequate, she never felt happier.
Thanking the judges, she headed out of the room, with her head held high, extremely proud of herself.
Excited beyond belief, Elena could not help fidgeting in her seat as she waited anxiously for her number to be called. Only the people who would be attending the auditions were able to enter the auditorium so sadly, her parents and boyfriend were not able to support her from a close distance. In order to make up for it, they all sent her encouraging messages and promising her a huge dinner if she were to ace this audition. And even if she failed, they would not love her any lesser. Such sweet words automatically brought a huge grin to Elena's face.
Before she knew it, her number was finally called and she walked nervously to the audition room where she would be performing in front of the judges - all of them being professional dancers and choreographers who won countless number of dancing-related awards and with a prolific resume to their name. She felt extremely small being in the same room with extremely famous people.
Taking a deep breath, she introduced herself and that she would be performing her routine. She chose a pretty tough choreography but she had practised hard in order to excel in it and she felt that this would impress the judges. Forgetting about her nervousness and remembering the immense support from her parents, she danced like there was no tomorrow. As she immersed herself in dancing, she quickly forgot that she was performing in front of crowd and unconsciously smiled, thoroughly enjoying herself.
Once the music stopped, she slowly snapped out of her trance, as if suddenly remembering that there were actually people in front of her. Then it clicked on her. It did not matter if she was rejected. She thoroughly enjoyed dancing and even if her skills were considered inadequate, she never felt happier.
Thanking the judges, she headed out of the room, with her head held high, extremely proud of herself.
Wednesday, 27 January 2016
Short Story #67: Photo Album
The memories flooded back as I looked through the photo album.
Years worth of memories were stored in this large box of small rectangular photo albums. To think that I would chance upon them when I was cleaning up the storeroom to prepare for my family's moving out. While the rest of my family went out, I stayed behind and was given the instructions to move this sealed box to the front door.
However, I was struck by boredom and the box piqued my interest so curiosity got the better of me and I ripped open the box. Honestly, I expected it to be filled with a wide-array of gold and silver jewelry because why else would be mundane-looking box like this be taped shut multiple times as if it was hiding a huge and precious secret.
But, inside the box was definitely worth much more than a sparkly bracelet or shiny necklace. It was filled to the brim with multiple photo albums! I must had let out a really loud gasp as I instantly broke into a series of rough coughs, accidentally breathing in the dust that collected around the box.
I reached out to the album perched on the top and glanced through it, my fingers gently turning each page with care and anticipation. The photographs in it showed my parents during their younger years when they had just married and were enjoying their honeymoon. I automatically smiled when I saw the megawatt smiles my parents were sporting in these photos. The loving gazes that my parents sent at each other, the unguarded smiles that they shared together, the ridiculous candid poses that they did together. If that was not love, I do not know what is.
Before I knew it, I had scoured the entire box of albums, pausing at some photos to recall the unforgettable and fun memories attached to them. Shortly after I had neatly placed all of them back into the box and sealed it in the same manner originally, my parents and older brother had arrived back home.
As we brought the last of the moving boxes into the trunk, my brother turned to me and asked, "Why are you crying?"
Eyes widening, I gently wiped said tears and smiled at him, "Just recalling some memories."
Years worth of memories were stored in this large box of small rectangular photo albums. To think that I would chance upon them when I was cleaning up the storeroom to prepare for my family's moving out. While the rest of my family went out, I stayed behind and was given the instructions to move this sealed box to the front door.
However, I was struck by boredom and the box piqued my interest so curiosity got the better of me and I ripped open the box. Honestly, I expected it to be filled with a wide-array of gold and silver jewelry because why else would be mundane-looking box like this be taped shut multiple times as if it was hiding a huge and precious secret.
But, inside the box was definitely worth much more than a sparkly bracelet or shiny necklace. It was filled to the brim with multiple photo albums! I must had let out a really loud gasp as I instantly broke into a series of rough coughs, accidentally breathing in the dust that collected around the box.
I reached out to the album perched on the top and glanced through it, my fingers gently turning each page with care and anticipation. The photographs in it showed my parents during their younger years when they had just married and were enjoying their honeymoon. I automatically smiled when I saw the megawatt smiles my parents were sporting in these photos. The loving gazes that my parents sent at each other, the unguarded smiles that they shared together, the ridiculous candid poses that they did together. If that was not love, I do not know what is.
Before I knew it, I had scoured the entire box of albums, pausing at some photos to recall the unforgettable and fun memories attached to them. Shortly after I had neatly placed all of them back into the box and sealed it in the same manner originally, my parents and older brother had arrived back home.
As we brought the last of the moving boxes into the trunk, my brother turned to me and asked, "Why are you crying?"
Eyes widening, I gently wiped said tears and smiled at him, "Just recalling some memories."
Tuesday, 26 January 2016
Short Story #66: Back Home From School
This morning, I woke up, feeling refreshed and energized despite having only 4 hours' worth of sleep. I had reminded myself countless times to have plenty of sleep lest it would compromise my work performance the next day. But of course old habits die hard. Still, I am still trying my best to heed my own advice.
School break unfortunately came to an end as of yesterday. It was upsetting really. In the blink of eyes, two months just zipped by. The feeling of regret stirred up inside me at the thoughts of me wasting time doing nothing on some days when I could have been really productive. There were so many things that I could have done during my break...so many fun things but I chose to lie down on my bed all day instead.
Well, there was no point dwelling on that now. Time is not reversible. So, I showered and got dressed as usual before drinking a hot beverage prepared by my beloved mother (love you mom!). Somehow, it felt as if there was no school break at all as I felt just right preparing to go to school.
I love the journey to my university. I got the opportunity to listen to good music and simply daydream. Sometimes, I got afraid when I took public transport because I have a weak stomach and it tends to act up at the worst timings. Luckily, that did not happen on the first day back in school. Another reason why I enjoy the one-hour trip to school is because at times, muse just simply comes to me, giving me ideas to write for my own fictional stories. Excitement surged through me when these special instances happen.
Once I reached school and met my friends, lessons started. It was okay at first, then the second lesson was slightly more exciting and stimulating than the previous one but the last lesson of the day was just simply boring. Already dozing off, I tried really hard to stay awake and alert. I could not even focus during the group discussion part. Not to mention, I kept thinking about the remaining course fees that have not been settled yet. Finally, the lesson has ended and I have been freed!
As I reached home, a gloomy expression remained fixed on my face, mirroring the bleak end of my school day. I headed straight to my room and collapsed on my bed, slowly slipping into a short nap. When I woke up and took a refreshing shower, I had dinner and I was invigorated again. It felt amazing! It was as if all the weight from earlier had all been removed. But of course, the reality is that I have to always be on my toes and work very hard this semester.
I can do this.
School break unfortunately came to an end as of yesterday. It was upsetting really. In the blink of eyes, two months just zipped by. The feeling of regret stirred up inside me at the thoughts of me wasting time doing nothing on some days when I could have been really productive. There were so many things that I could have done during my break...so many fun things but I chose to lie down on my bed all day instead.
Well, there was no point dwelling on that now. Time is not reversible. So, I showered and got dressed as usual before drinking a hot beverage prepared by my beloved mother (love you mom!). Somehow, it felt as if there was no school break at all as I felt just right preparing to go to school.
I love the journey to my university. I got the opportunity to listen to good music and simply daydream. Sometimes, I got afraid when I took public transport because I have a weak stomach and it tends to act up at the worst timings. Luckily, that did not happen on the first day back in school. Another reason why I enjoy the one-hour trip to school is because at times, muse just simply comes to me, giving me ideas to write for my own fictional stories. Excitement surged through me when these special instances happen.
Once I reached school and met my friends, lessons started. It was okay at first, then the second lesson was slightly more exciting and stimulating than the previous one but the last lesson of the day was just simply boring. Already dozing off, I tried really hard to stay awake and alert. I could not even focus during the group discussion part. Not to mention, I kept thinking about the remaining course fees that have not been settled yet. Finally, the lesson has ended and I have been freed!
As I reached home, a gloomy expression remained fixed on my face, mirroring the bleak end of my school day. I headed straight to my room and collapsed on my bed, slowly slipping into a short nap. When I woke up and took a refreshing shower, I had dinner and I was invigorated again. It felt amazing! It was as if all the weight from earlier had all been removed. But of course, the reality is that I have to always be on my toes and work very hard this semester.
I can do this.
Monday, 25 January 2016
Short Story #65: An Adventure
In the early hours of Sunday morning, a family of three had woken up to have a very early breakfast together. Even though the time was hours before their regular waking hours, their faces looked refreshed and energized, as if very eager to start the day.
Abigail, the youngest of the three, was unsure whether what they were currently doing was considered normal in the eyes of other people but she remained quiet. It was not that she was afraid of speaking up but she somehow felt an exhilarating rush through her at the thought of an exciting and memorable adventure awaiting them in just a few minutes.
After breakfast, all of them carried their large backpacks, stuffed with clothes, necessities and things of entertainment like books, music player and yo-yo (in the case of her crazy, deviant elder brother). Once they left the house, Abigail felt a spring in her steps as she bounced excitedly along her two older siblings. They smiled fondly at the youngest, secretly gushing on this little bundle of energy joining them in their most wonderful adventure yet.
The journey to the destination unknown only to Abigail took only half an hour. She had suppressed the strong urge to ask just where they were actually headed but she decided against it. Always on the spontaneous side, Abigail would rather wait than spoil the surprise herself.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, her older siblings slowed their pace before halting to a stop outside a shopping mall that was a popular attraction for both locals and tourists alike. To the confusion of Abigail, there was a crowd of people already waiting outside the closed entrance doors of the mall. Abigail stared dumbly at her siblings who prepared to take out an object from one of the backpacks, to later a reveal a folded tent. Still not questioning them, Abigail helped them set up the tent before heading inside and sitting with them on the floor.
Abigail glanced between her two siblings, her eyes heavy with gleeful expectation. "So, what are we doing next?"
Both of them glanced at her from their phones before her elder brother answered, "Now, we wait."
Now, Abigail was confused, her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait...for what?"
"For the Pegasus Boys to show up," her sister replied before tending to her nails.
Abigail groaned, her eyes rolling. She would have known they would be camping out just to arrive early to see the internationally known boy band up-close. So much for an exciting adventure.
Abigail, the youngest of the three, was unsure whether what they were currently doing was considered normal in the eyes of other people but she remained quiet. It was not that she was afraid of speaking up but she somehow felt an exhilarating rush through her at the thought of an exciting and memorable adventure awaiting them in just a few minutes.
After breakfast, all of them carried their large backpacks, stuffed with clothes, necessities and things of entertainment like books, music player and yo-yo (in the case of her crazy, deviant elder brother). Once they left the house, Abigail felt a spring in her steps as she bounced excitedly along her two older siblings. They smiled fondly at the youngest, secretly gushing on this little bundle of energy joining them in their most wonderful adventure yet.
The journey to the destination unknown only to Abigail took only half an hour. She had suppressed the strong urge to ask just where they were actually headed but she decided against it. Always on the spontaneous side, Abigail would rather wait than spoil the surprise herself.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, her older siblings slowed their pace before halting to a stop outside a shopping mall that was a popular attraction for both locals and tourists alike. To the confusion of Abigail, there was a crowd of people already waiting outside the closed entrance doors of the mall. Abigail stared dumbly at her siblings who prepared to take out an object from one of the backpacks, to later a reveal a folded tent. Still not questioning them, Abigail helped them set up the tent before heading inside and sitting with them on the floor.
Abigail glanced between her two siblings, her eyes heavy with gleeful expectation. "So, what are we doing next?"
Both of them glanced at her from their phones before her elder brother answered, "Now, we wait."
Now, Abigail was confused, her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait...for what?"
"For the Pegasus Boys to show up," her sister replied before tending to her nails.
Abigail groaned, her eyes rolling. She would have known they would be camping out just to arrive early to see the internationally known boy band up-close. So much for an exciting adventure.
Sunday, 24 January 2016
Short Story #64: Lunch Break
The messily arranged paperwork on Oliver's table were harshly pushed away and was replaced by skirt-wearing girl who sat on it. Oliver threw a harsh glare at the intruder, without even raising his head.
Samantha Johnson. Oliver had became terribly sick of her intruding his office during their lunch breaks and the thick-headed girl just could not take a hint. Of course, today would not be any different.
"Come on Ollie. You've been overworking these days. It's time for you to have a well-earned break," the crafty woman flirtatiously pulled his tie in an attempt to yank him forward but Oliver held on to his seat firmly. No way was he going to submit to this devil of a woman.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Oliver loosened his tie and removed it from his neck. He suppressed a smirk at the look of utter confusion on Samantha's face. It was as if she was offended that he was not falling for her seduction.
"I have a lot of work to do," Oliver gestured to the scattered paperwork on the floor. At that, Samantha rolled her eyes and slid off the table, straightening her skirt as she let out an annoyed huff.
"I don't get it. Why are you resisting me? A lot of guys in this office would kill to have one-on-one lunch with me," Samantha frowned as she crossed her arms across her chest.
Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise. It seemed that she was getting sick of being rejected repeatedly so she decided to just confront him directly about it. Secretly, Oliver was thankful that she was being straightforward about it instead of beating about the bush.
"Well, I'm not one of those guys," Oliver answered simply. Samantha's mouth dropped open at the frank response.
"Now, would you kindly please leave so that I can write a 5-page report which is due in..."Oliver paused to glance at his watch. "15 minutes."
Samantha angrily scoffed and stomped out of the room, even slamming the door loudly to make her frustration clear. Chuckling to himself, Oliver pushed up his reading glasses before resuming his Tetris Game.
Samantha Johnson. Oliver had became terribly sick of her intruding his office during their lunch breaks and the thick-headed girl just could not take a hint. Of course, today would not be any different.
"Come on Ollie. You've been overworking these days. It's time for you to have a well-earned break," the crafty woman flirtatiously pulled his tie in an attempt to yank him forward but Oliver held on to his seat firmly. No way was he going to submit to this devil of a woman.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Oliver loosened his tie and removed it from his neck. He suppressed a smirk at the look of utter confusion on Samantha's face. It was as if she was offended that he was not falling for her seduction.
"I have a lot of work to do," Oliver gestured to the scattered paperwork on the floor. At that, Samantha rolled her eyes and slid off the table, straightening her skirt as she let out an annoyed huff.
"I don't get it. Why are you resisting me? A lot of guys in this office would kill to have one-on-one lunch with me," Samantha frowned as she crossed her arms across her chest.
Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise. It seemed that she was getting sick of being rejected repeatedly so she decided to just confront him directly about it. Secretly, Oliver was thankful that she was being straightforward about it instead of beating about the bush.
"Well, I'm not one of those guys," Oliver answered simply. Samantha's mouth dropped open at the frank response.
"Now, would you kindly please leave so that I can write a 5-page report which is due in..."Oliver paused to glance at his watch. "15 minutes."
Samantha angrily scoffed and stomped out of the room, even slamming the door loudly to make her frustration clear. Chuckling to himself, Oliver pushed up his reading glasses before resuming his Tetris Game.
Saturday, 23 January 2016
Short Story #63: Bad Wi-Fi
Terrence drummed his fingers on the table impatiently as he waited for the video to load. He was trying to watch a live broadcast of a highly anticipated soccer match on his phone. As he waited, he shook his left leg repeatedly, a sign that he was getting more restless after each second with the video not cooperating.
Well, in this case, it was not the video's fault. Terrence was blaming entirely on the bad Wi-Fi in his house. Whenever he had to complete an online assignment for his university module, the Wi-Fi was working perfectly. There were no problems at all throughout the whole time he did his assignment. However, when it came to using it for leisure, Internet connection was terribly slow that it took a whole five minutes for a webpage to fully load. Such annoying circumstances got agonizing during online chatrooms. Due to him replying to every single message five minutes later (four minutes was spent glaring at the computer screen), his chatroom friends got bored of his supposed 'lack of commitment' to the conversation even after he gave his valid reasons. They did not buy it at all.
Thirty minutes later, and still the video refused to load. Groaning, Terrence rose from his seat and walked towards his bedroom, dragging his feet all the way till he collapsed onto his comfy bed full of random objects. He never bothered to tidy his bed before sleeping so he always ended up either hitting his guitar or waking up with weird-looking tracks all over his exposed body (and he always slept half-naked).
Staring blankly at his phone, Terrence secretly wanted to chuck his phone across the room but obviously that was not a rational action. Of course, it would only serve to aggravate his mother's mood and in turn being grounded by her. He had forgotten to run some important errands his mother had personally entrusted him to do so she had been giving him the silent treatment ever since.
A loud knock on his bedroom door snapped him out of his trance. Terrence glanced at Juliette, his adorable little sister staring at him, wide-eyed.
"What's wrong?" Terrence asked, his eyebrows raised.
His sister continued staring at him, clearly stunned. "Did you know that Wi-Fi has been turned off all this time? No wonder I wasn't able to load the Cartoon Network website!"
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Terrence groaned inwardly.
Well, in this case, it was not the video's fault. Terrence was blaming entirely on the bad Wi-Fi in his house. Whenever he had to complete an online assignment for his university module, the Wi-Fi was working perfectly. There were no problems at all throughout the whole time he did his assignment. However, when it came to using it for leisure, Internet connection was terribly slow that it took a whole five minutes for a webpage to fully load. Such annoying circumstances got agonizing during online chatrooms. Due to him replying to every single message five minutes later (four minutes was spent glaring at the computer screen), his chatroom friends got bored of his supposed 'lack of commitment' to the conversation even after he gave his valid reasons. They did not buy it at all.
Thirty minutes later, and still the video refused to load. Groaning, Terrence rose from his seat and walked towards his bedroom, dragging his feet all the way till he collapsed onto his comfy bed full of random objects. He never bothered to tidy his bed before sleeping so he always ended up either hitting his guitar or waking up with weird-looking tracks all over his exposed body (and he always slept half-naked).
Staring blankly at his phone, Terrence secretly wanted to chuck his phone across the room but obviously that was not a rational action. Of course, it would only serve to aggravate his mother's mood and in turn being grounded by her. He had forgotten to run some important errands his mother had personally entrusted him to do so she had been giving him the silent treatment ever since.
A loud knock on his bedroom door snapped him out of his trance. Terrence glanced at Juliette, his adorable little sister staring at him, wide-eyed.
"What's wrong?" Terrence asked, his eyebrows raised.
His sister continued staring at him, clearly stunned. "Did you know that Wi-Fi has been turned off all this time? No wonder I wasn't able to load the Cartoon Network website!"
Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Terrence groaned inwardly.
Friday, 22 January 2016
Short Story #62: Crazy
What is the true definition of 'crazy'?
Most people have the perception that when a person does any action but to an 'extreme' level, they are instantly labelled as 'crazy'. That if anything is done to an exaggeration, it is not normal, thereby it is 'crazy'. But frankly, if you ask me, people tend to overreact.
Do you know why?
Because people are scared. They do not want to associated with a 'crazy' person, calling such an action as 'second-hand embarrassment'.
Of course, there is some truth in it. However, I just feel that because most people tend to engage in such a manner, people these days have clamped up their real personalities, fearing to obnoxiously croon to their favourite song because they are afraid of being labelled as 'crazy'. So as such, they are not able to let loose.
It truly feels amazing when you are alone. There is no one to judge you for whatever you are doing. The intense fear of being called 'crazy' is completely erased when you are by yourself.
Maybe, there should be day, where everyone can do whatever they want without any restraint. However, that would lead to a lot of complications. I have seen 'The Purge' to see what such extremely risky allocated days tapped into the humans' inner desires and completely change them as a person, ignoring all the ethics they have long practised.
But, what I am trying to say is that everyone should learn how to let loose sometimes. It feels therapeutic. It feels liberating.
Maybe inside all of us, there is a 'craziness' just waiting to be expressed.
Most people have the perception that when a person does any action but to an 'extreme' level, they are instantly labelled as 'crazy'. That if anything is done to an exaggeration, it is not normal, thereby it is 'crazy'. But frankly, if you ask me, people tend to overreact.
Do you know why?
Because people are scared. They do not want to associated with a 'crazy' person, calling such an action as 'second-hand embarrassment'.
Of course, there is some truth in it. However, I just feel that because most people tend to engage in such a manner, people these days have clamped up their real personalities, fearing to obnoxiously croon to their favourite song because they are afraid of being labelled as 'crazy'. So as such, they are not able to let loose.
It truly feels amazing when you are alone. There is no one to judge you for whatever you are doing. The intense fear of being called 'crazy' is completely erased when you are by yourself.
Maybe, there should be day, where everyone can do whatever they want without any restraint. However, that would lead to a lot of complications. I have seen 'The Purge' to see what such extremely risky allocated days tapped into the humans' inner desires and completely change them as a person, ignoring all the ethics they have long practised.
But, what I am trying to say is that everyone should learn how to let loose sometimes. It feels therapeutic. It feels liberating.
Maybe inside all of us, there is a 'craziness' just waiting to be expressed.
Thursday, 21 January 2016
Short Story #61: Stalker
Behind the bushes, Natalie was adjusting her camera that was slung around her neck. Today, she had been assigned a mission by a close associate and she was doing it alone. Well, she was supposed to be doing it with another person but he had the flu.
After counting to five quietly to herself, she emerged from behind the bushes carefully, her eyes searching for her target - Kim Taewon. She reached for her camera when she recognized the familiar mop of brown hair and broad shoulders walking towards a coffee shop. In fear of losing him, she moved from her hiding place and stealthily approached the tall Korean, blending in with the lunch hour crowd seamlessly.
When he entered the coffee shop, she clicked her tongue and quickened her pace to a stop right outside the shop but well-hidden behind a few thick trees. Gazing through the transparent glass, Taewon joined a long queue of customers ordering for a coffee. As he stared blankly at nowhere, she positioned her camera and took some shots before hurriedly hiding behind a tree. People who passed by barely gave her any attention as they were rushing and minding their own business, to Natalie's luck.
After thinking the coast was clear, she turned her head only to come face to face with Kim Taewon himself. At that, she accidentally let out an audible gasp, stumbling backwards by the sudden appearance and almost falling, if not for the Korean steadying her by the waist. She shyly glanced back up to see a handsome smirk on Taewon's face, like he caught her doing something illegal red-handed. Which he did. Kind of.
"So, who is it for this time?" Taewon asked as he crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.
Deciding to play innocent, Natalie blinked her long lashes repeatedly, secretly hoping that he would dismiss her as a dumbass and let her go without further questioning. But sadly it did not happen.
Sighing, Taewon spoke again, "I know someone paid you to do this...stalking thing. I'm asking you who is it."
Natalie fiddled her with her camera, looking at anywhere except the handsome Korean in front of her. "I'm not allowed to tell you. It's confidential information."
Hearing another exasperated sigh, Natalie got another shock when Taewon snatched the camera from her. It was quite a struggle too as the strings got tangled in her long, untied hair which caused to shriek. With considerable effort, Taewon took the camera in his hands and snapped a photo of him grinning at it. Then he tossed it at Natalie nonchalantly and told her, "There's your winning shot."
Unable to form words in her brain, Natalie merely blinked at the way things had turned out, frozen in her position. Taewon let out a hearty laugh before turning on his heel.
"Next time, don't stalk me," Taewon said over his shoulder before walking off.
After counting to five quietly to herself, she emerged from behind the bushes carefully, her eyes searching for her target - Kim Taewon. She reached for her camera when she recognized the familiar mop of brown hair and broad shoulders walking towards a coffee shop. In fear of losing him, she moved from her hiding place and stealthily approached the tall Korean, blending in with the lunch hour crowd seamlessly.
When he entered the coffee shop, she clicked her tongue and quickened her pace to a stop right outside the shop but well-hidden behind a few thick trees. Gazing through the transparent glass, Taewon joined a long queue of customers ordering for a coffee. As he stared blankly at nowhere, she positioned her camera and took some shots before hurriedly hiding behind a tree. People who passed by barely gave her any attention as they were rushing and minding their own business, to Natalie's luck.
After thinking the coast was clear, she turned her head only to come face to face with Kim Taewon himself. At that, she accidentally let out an audible gasp, stumbling backwards by the sudden appearance and almost falling, if not for the Korean steadying her by the waist. She shyly glanced back up to see a handsome smirk on Taewon's face, like he caught her doing something illegal red-handed. Which he did. Kind of.
"So, who is it for this time?" Taewon asked as he crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.
Deciding to play innocent, Natalie blinked her long lashes repeatedly, secretly hoping that he would dismiss her as a dumbass and let her go without further questioning. But sadly it did not happen.
Sighing, Taewon spoke again, "I know someone paid you to do this...stalking thing. I'm asking you who is it."
Natalie fiddled her with her camera, looking at anywhere except the handsome Korean in front of her. "I'm not allowed to tell you. It's confidential information."
Hearing another exasperated sigh, Natalie got another shock when Taewon snatched the camera from her. It was quite a struggle too as the strings got tangled in her long, untied hair which caused to shriek. With considerable effort, Taewon took the camera in his hands and snapped a photo of him grinning at it. Then he tossed it at Natalie nonchalantly and told her, "There's your winning shot."
Unable to form words in her brain, Natalie merely blinked at the way things had turned out, frozen in her position. Taewon let out a hearty laugh before turning on his heel.
"Next time, don't stalk me," Taewon said over his shoulder before walking off.
Wednesday, 20 January 2016
Short Story #60: Free
Before my parents went to visit my grandmother's house, they had instructed my brother and I to obediently do all the house chores and those included: vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing the toilets, hanging the wet clothes and ironing the clothes. Admittedly, that was a lot of workload and when my parents left the house, my brother and I traded mischievous looks.
My brother and I were most probably like all siblings. We had our common interests and also issues or things that we disagreed on. We had our fights, some of them ended up physical but nothing bloody and some of them just led to us giving each other the silent treatment for a week. But for that day, we had a plan and we were both 100% on board with it.
While I switched on the faucet to fill the large pail, my brother grabbed as many packets as he could from the kitchen drawer. We did not need so many because our intention was to have fun while minimizing the amount of mess. It was inevitable that it would end up messy - we both had added that in our calculations. So when the pail was almost full, we quickly added water into the plastic packets before tying them up. We felt a rush coming through us, out of enthusiasm and maybe slight fear that our parents would suddenly change their minds and return back home. So we had no time to waste!
After counting off 20 water bombs, I took 10 while my brother took the remaining ones. At the count of five, we would head to our hiding places and then find each other to throw water bombs at each other. There was no point system - the point was to have the time of your life while seizing the perfect opportunity! So in one hour, almost the entire house was drenched, except for the our parents' bedroom of course. Theirs had a lot of books left in the open so it would take quite a long time before each of them dried and this would raise a lot of eyebrows from our parents.
During the entire game, we were both laughing freely and just enjoying ourselves. It was an amazing and liberating feeling. Also therapeutic. It was as if all the weight on our shoulders were lifted and it made us feel so...free.
Of course, we do not know if we are ever going to risk this stunt ever again without raising suspicion. It was a relief that they did not question further when they asked about our incredibly drenched clothes. Maybe they knew. Maybe it was because we had completed all the house chores dutifully and adequately.
Tuesday, 19 January 2016
Short Story #59: The One Time I Didn't Head Home Immediately
My mother had reminded me one too many times to head straight home once my night shift working in a 24-hour grocery store ended. She was terrified that the streets would be quiet and empty - a perfect 'hunting ground' for rapists and serial killers to roam around in search of new victims. I heeded her words of course until one night.
Like any other night, the moon cast over our heads was shining as brightly as ever in the night sky. It was also helpful that the streets were littered with streetlights which were all working and illuminated the entire area. My colleague Shauna had just suffered a harsh break-up with her boyfriend and she painfully waited till the end of shift to tell me the whole story. I may not give any good solutions to cope with problems but I am a very good listener and I know the right times to rub an upset person's back in comfort.
It was a nasty break-up alright. I almost felt sorry for Shauna. Almost. Because I had already known that Thomas was a two-timing bastard. Yes, Shauna and I had caught him shoving his tongue into another girl's throat in a busy supermarket few weeks back. At first, Shauna was in complete denial, insisting that it was actually a twin brother Thomas had never told her about and I was like, girl, let's be real. I had already told her to break up with him but she refused to listen to me. So, I had known something like this was going to happen. But, really, breaking up with your girlfriend while draping your hand around another girl, and a different one from the supermarket one? This guy is a player. One could only wonder what these girls see in this cheater and unfaithful asshole.
As Shauna bawled and laid her head on my shoulder, while I ignored all the drool and snot staining my cerulean dress, I gazed around the empty streets. It was pretty quiet, minus the intense sobbing and the owls hooting. At times, I could feel as though the owl was urgently warning me to come home. I ignored it and patted Shauna's soft, chesnut brown hair gently.
It was strange. The night felt strange unlike any other night. It was quiet - a little too quiet. And before I knew it, a cloth was shoved into my mouth. My screams were muffled and I tried to pry the extremely muscular arms choking my throat off me but my efforts were in vain. In a few minutes, my vision blurred and my whole world faded into black.
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