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Confusion
Published on 09-13-2017 09:36 PM
" Jasmine , stop ! Don't hurt yourself anymore ! It's painful watching you like this ." shouted Maely . It had been four weeks . Four tormenting weeks of not sleeping , not eating , suicidal attempts , non-stop crying and lastly , self harm .  Jasmine was just about to make another cut on her bloody wrist but Maely took the blade away and threw it out of the window . She couldn't bear to see ...Learn More" Jasmine , stop ! Don't hurt yourself anymore ! It's painful watching you like this ." shouted Maely . It had been four weeks . Four tormenting weeks of not sleeping , not eating , suicidal attempts , non-stop crying and lastly , self harm .  Jasmine was just about to make another cut on her bloody wrist but Maely took the blade away and threw it out of the window . She couldn't bear to see her best friend lose any more blood . Her face was so pale due to lack of blood that she won't need make up if she were to play a ghost role in a movie . " Get up ." ordered Maely . " What ? "  " Get up . " Maely said again , only this time she said it more firmly . " Can you please underst- " Jasmine was just about to explain but Maely snapped . Something inside her burned and exploded . She was getting tired of having to throw pills , change bloody bed sheets , cleaning blades etc . If her soft-hearted side could not bring the old Jasmine back then she would have to unleash her psychologically messed up side .  She had to use her secret . Her mind . A scarred and destroyed mind that only had hope as a anchor to sanity . She would have to destroy her if she wanted to build her . She shouted back at Jasmine , " You suck ! What's wrong with you ? Can't you be sane ? You think you are oh-so pitiful , broken, lunatic, psycho , soulless and bla bla bla bla . Do you even know what it feels like to be broken ? To be pysho ? You don't know ! You think you do but you don't . You are like this because your deary oh deary Rachel doesn't want to be best friends with you ? Because she chose a boy over you ? No , it's because you are a clingy attention seeker , Jasmine ! A living , walking , clinyy attention seeker ! " Jasmine was angry and confused . " What are y- " " There are thousand of people who had their partner leave them but they don't do what you are doing . They move on and accept reality because they are not a wimp , not attention seekers . They know their problem . " Jasmine was getting more annoyed and defnitely pissed off by what Maely was saying . " You have no i- " " You think you have the biggest problem in the world when you don't  . You just make it look big to gain attention . There are people who have bigger problems you know ! There are people who can't sleep at night  ! There are people who saw their parents die in front of them and had to live with that fact for the rest of their lives ! They have to carry that burden on their heart and get traumatise by almost everything but they have to shut up about it and have to just move on because they accepted reality ."  Oh , how wrong of her to not realize , the her she was reffering to of having to be detroyed and build , was actually herself . Only thing was , she was not sure whether she can be build up ever again . Jasmine was about to open her mouth to spit back an insulting reply when she saw Maely's eyes , the pain and fear that was visible in her eyes had struck Jasmine so deep , it instantly made her enveloped Maely in a bone crushing yet comforting hug even though her wrist had dried blood on her wounds . Maely pry opened from the hug and stared at her , she opened her quivering cherry lips again , looking at Jasmine intensely with her emerald green eyes and whispered to herself ,  " That person is me . " As soon as the last word had escaped her mouth , she took the vase that was sitting on the table beside Jasmine's bed and hit her head with it , smashing the vase and fracturing her skull as a result . It was only after one month of Maely staying in the hospital with a coma condition had Jasmine realized , Maely had told her the biggest secret and hoped that Jasmine would realize , that she is lucky . Hoped that she could tell all those people who does self harm , how they should accept reality and just move on instead of trying to create a situation they never wanted  .  In the end , Jasmine had still wondered , what happened to Maely's parents that caused Maely sonophobia and a visit to the psychologists place three times a day ? Jasmine had let her mind wandered as she walk through the hallway of Hospital Ceria , finding Maely's room which was 107 . In her hands she had a lunchbox filled with home made food and a bouquet of purple tulips for Maely .  Her eyes lit up with flames of hope as soon as her darting eyes had landed on a gray-coloured sliding door that had 107 engraved on it .  She opened the sliding door and was greeted by Maely's still asleep , limp and skinny body on the hospital bed .  All that Jasmine could do was sigh. The things that were in her hand just a few minutes ago was placed on a table near the window by her . The usual place of ever stuff I bring here . Meh . The question that roamed in her mind constantly was now eventually haunting her probably day and night . It had made the flame inside her heart grow into small tiny sparks , getting smaller day by day . Jasmine felt depressed as Maely was still unconscious . Truth was , she was afraid to lose her . Maely was the only person that had literally gone through every moment good and bad with her . She was like a sister to Jasmine , a stern but sweet sister . A sister that is in lying in a hospital bed . A sister that is going to- Suddenly , the noise of the sliding door being opened interrupted her thoughts and made her abruptly stood up . Jasmine shifted to satisfy her curiousness of who was at the door . She frowned when she looked at the person . It was a stranger . A boy that looked like the same age as her . He had black ruffled hair , as if hands had nervously ran through it numerous times and a roman nose . He had lime green eyes that were near to Maely's emerald green eyes and full pale pink lips unlike Maely's cherry lips . His jawline was sharp and cheekbones were high . He had a small but visible scar on his left jawline . " Hello ? Can I help you ? " " Yeah , when you're done checking me out . " " I was not ! '' '' Anyways , I'm here to visit Belle . '' '' Belle ? But this is n-'' '' Belle is just a nickname I gave Maely . Her full name is Maely Abelle Derick . Didn't she tell you ? '' Jasmine frowned again as she tried to recall what was Maely's full name but a great pain suddenly invaded her head , the pain felt like some kind of Thor hammer was banging on her head . She held her head in her two hands while grimacing and screaming in pain ,dropping to the floor as the pain intensifies then suddenly blacked out . The last scene her memory roll had shown Jasmine was two person holding weapons while pacing in a room , holding a familliar-looking family as hostages .... Read more
By Cassandra in
Reader Points: 70
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 170
Views: 400
A New Dawn
Published on 09-13-2017 12:27 AM

What melodious music to my ears it was. The chiming and ringing of the wedding bells and the delicate hands of the pianist pressing against the keys to play the wedding march. My loving family and friends were here to witness t...Learn MoreWhat melodious music to my ears it was. The chiming and ringing of the wedding bells and the delicate hands of the pianist pressing against the keys to play the wedding march. My loving family and friends were here to witness this grand occasion and for the very first time in my life, no worries had shrouded my mind and I was on cloud nine. All my focus was centred on my loving husband awaiting me in the gazebo overseeing the naturally beautiful lake of a backdrop. The ambience helped to reminisce memories of pure beauty and romance. Now, as I walked down the aisle in my elegantly-laced wedding gown, I gazed deeply into his hazel eyes that could make any girl smile and when he looked back at me, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he chose me. He chose me out of every other sexy, beautiful and smart woman in the world and knowing that I was on top of the world. Nothing could have broken my spirit at this moment in life. I was wrong. In a blink of an eye, everyone and everything around me started fading away into nothingness, leaving me flabbergasted and confused. Instinctively, I locked my eyes on to my husband and I ran as quick as lightning towards him. All I could think of was reaching for his hand before everything around me vanishes but before I could reach him, I tripped and face-planted to the ground and when I looked back up, it was pitch-black. I had found myself surrounded by nothingness and amidst the chaos, I felt a loneliness that I had never felt before. I screamed and cried at the top of my lungs but I could hear nothing. Everything was going wrong and then, I opened my eyes. “Oh, just another nightmare!” I sulked and sighed as I lay in bed, realizing that it was just another episodic nightmare. I had returned to a reality after dreaming a fantasy in a wonderland that could never be in the real world. I had come to terms with the fact that my husband is never coming home and the only physical memorabilia that I possess of him is a picture of the two of us together by the riverside. Now, I am left with the memories and regrets of what could have been if only my husband had not given his life towards serving his country in the line of battle. To make matters worse, due to the financial instability of the economy, I got sacked out of the only job I had left that could financially keep me afloat. Now, I am living in the city that never sleeps, financially unstable, alone and homeless. I have nothing to live for but it is because of my friends who motivate me to keep fighting the good fight that I am pushing through in life, but for how much longer though? Another day of wandering the streets of New York when out of the blue, I was violently pulled by my wrist to the back alley and in a muffled, rough voice, a tall figure of a man muttered, “Follow me!”. I bumped into people as he pulled me further away from the hustle and bustle of the city until we reached an alley. He let go of my hand, slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a card. I took the card with a sigh of relief knowing that I was not in any danger but also with a perplexed look on my face. Upon reading the contents of the card, my perplexed face got even more perplexed and it was as if he knew what my next words were when he quickly interrupted my speech and showcased his golden Rolex watch and explained, “I got this branded piece of gold because of this guy and he could set you up for a quick game.” Again, I was about to stop him in his tracks and question him but immediately, he trumped me and continued saying, “I know what you are thinking but the other day, I saw you begging for some spare change on the streets and I thought to myself, “Why would someone as beautiful as she has to resort to begging on the streets?” I immediately had a mixed emotion of embarrassment and discomfort knowing some random stranger has been observing me begging on the streets for some spare change. I looked down in shame and slight frustration as he continued saying “I hope you give this a second thought because with the state of the economy as it is, sometimes a reward such as this is worth a deal with the devil”. He left the card in my hand and quickly, walked off and I was left there alone to ponder about the offer that he had presented. It was a cold and freezing night and the words that he said kept replaying in my mind like a broken cassette recorder. My thoughts were clouded by the decision that I had made between life and death. Armed with the card that the strange man had given me and the details on it, I headed towards the casino. As I walked myself to my destination, the butterflies in my stomach at that moment felt like a punch to my guts. I felt fear, sadness, regret and anxiety all mashed up together in an unpleasant bowl of emotions. Every step I took felt like an earthquake and after about a few minutes, the ‘earthquakes’ stopped as I reached the casino. I took a deep breath and let out the loudest sigh before opening the doors towards my possible demise.  The casino was just like any other casino. Bright colourful lights that highlighted the sound of money rolling out of the slot machines. Unfortunately, these were not the kind of games I was going to play because Russian roulette is not the kind of game where you can place your bets and hope that lady luck is on your side. As I made my way to the back of the casino, I noticed a bodyguard wearing a golden Rolex on his right wrist. I knew instantly that he was the strange man in the alley. I was about to show him the card when he welcomed me in. He wished me luck and certainly, I was hoping that his wish rubbed off on me because, in this game, you either come out with a bag of cash or in a body bag.  I entered the dark room that was only lit by a red light bulb and I was feeling as grim as ever. I took a seat at the table and breathed deeply. No one uttered a word as the game began and my competitor swiped the gun from the table, rolled the cartridge and pulled the trigger – only to hear a click.  Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours as the game went on. No one seemed to know exactly who would win. My competitor was confident in every move he made whereas I was trembling and quaking in fear. His over-confidence was messing up my focus on winning the cash. I was trying my very best to cover my tears and fears. I kept wondering if I would ever see another sunrise as my whole life flashed before my very eyes. My mind was cluttered with thoughts of death and the afterlife. I was overwhelmed with emotions of fear and defeat and just as I was about to throw in the towel, “BANG!" I checked my hands and there was no gun. It was then that I looked up and saw my competitor lying motionlessly on the chair. Blood and gore were gushing out of his head and the spectators who witnessed this were in awe and could not believe that he had perished. The mood in the room was gloomy and emotional as I smacked my hand over my mouth; preventing myself from shouting and crying. I was still shaking at the moment but for a different reason. I felt sadness even though I had just won the prize of 100 thousand dollars. I carried out the bag of cash and took a final glance at the scene. I looked back at the floor and with that, I quietly walked away to my brand new dawn.... Read more

By Naveen Raja in
Reader Points: 210
Editor Points: 42000
Rank: 84
Views: 587
Autopsy Of A Broken Heart
Published on 09-12-2017 03:16 PM
Reader Points: 120
Editor Points: 39000
Rank: 121
Views: 616
The Daily Bread
Published on 09-12-2017 12:53 PM

And around the table, they gathered, five in sum: Stella, Eugene, Mokhtar, Kelvin and Cathy.

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By Chin Siew Teng in
Reader Points: 220
Editor Points: 42000
Rank: 83
Views: 611
The Shed
Published on 09-10-2017 07:32 PM

When I was young and innocent, the shed provided shelter for my friends and I, whenever rains interrupted our outdoor games. It was...Learn MoreWhen I was young and innocent, the shed provided shelter for my friends and I, whenever rains interrupted our outdoor games. It was neither too warm nor too comfortable, with scattered fodder covering the floor and inappropriately arranged rusted tools, but it was sufficient. The sound of rain trickling and occasional wind gusts whilst we were resuming our activity always gave me a sense of serenity which I would later in my adult life, forlorn. Only when the rain had stopped, we would make our way out and continued the game we had started out here in the first place. Zaidi, Aizat, Nadiah, Susan, and I were the shed’s loyal visitors. Our houses are located in the same vicinity, so it was kind of convenient to make the shed our second home. The best thing was, our parents had always endorsed our friendship and its affiliation to the shed. They thought it was a good idea to let us roam free in such a healthy condition as our neighborhood was, since before the rise of internet, social media were not around to redeem the boredom every child had always have. Befriending people in the real life was pretty much a big deal, back in those days. So much did our parents encourage the relationship we had built, they regularly fixed us some kind of food every so often. By their respective food, I got to know my friends closer. For instance, Nadiah’s mother was a great pastry maker; Zaidi’s eldest sister had always been generous of the flavors of the iced drinks she made. The mother of Aizat, a half-Pakistani lady, never failed to impress us with some poultry dishes, mainly of curry menus. Susan’s father on the other hand always prized us with his homemade ice creams, whereas my own dad often prepared fruit juices. As we grew older and more egoistic, the sensation began to fade. By Form 4 we had developed starkly different hobbies, skills and interests and this mere fact was enough to set us further from each other. My parents had often asked, why we did not go out together as we usually do, a several times in a year. I always had had my mind fixed to a particular, pseudo-matured answer right before they managed to finish their query. “I don’t know, people grow up, they have different things that they’re attached to, and I couldn’t help but to be one, myself.” This was my reply. The separation became even more apparent with the tertiary enrollment coming along. Nadiah and Susan were enrolled to universities in two different regions. Zaidi went abroad, who, based from his posts on social media, was continuing his study in Pharmacology. Aizat, who had always aspired to be like his father, a teacher of the region’s famous school, assigned himself in the field of education, which also obliged him to move almost a thousand kilometers away. I, being the slackest to formal education, was only a certified food investigator of the district; a fine evidence that I was the most affected by the foods my neighbors’ parents had fed me, back then. The departures of my childhood friends for their studies taught me a very important lesson, although a very bitter one to swallow, that no human has the perfect control over ourselves. How gullible we were! How freed and guiltless our souls were when we made the promise not to let anything gets in the way of our friendship. We had sworn in the shed, in the midst of the storm, that no amount of hope and aspiration which future could provide that would separate us. Sadly, future is not going to fix itself like the meals we usually had in between our evening playtime. Adolescence came crushing in, forcibly feeding in the harsh reality of the need to pay the bills. The only thing that could remind me of the best times was the shed. The shed to which we avowed a great consolation to our parents’ nagging. The shed which was not erected by us but by a foreign farmer who had since long moved into another state due to his failure in farming. I swear I could almost see myself and Aizat, Nadiah, Susan and Zaidi running around the structure, one chasing another, like the hands of an analog clock, swirling hurriedly against the flow of indifferent time. Only after four years of moving away, had Zaidi came back home. From the window of my upstairs room, I peeked and the merriness of his house, which was welcoming  his return. He did not even bother to come to my house, knocking my door, requesting me to congratulate him on his graduation as I would have wanted him to. However, he did notice me sitting curiously by the window, but the only thing he could pull off was a decent smile, although, personally, it was sufficient for me to confirm that he still knew that I exist. I responded mildly with similar gesture. It was only when we bumped into each other on a certain street that we had a decent, serious conversation. He was on his way returning to his car from the clinic he worked at, whereas I was walking to a western diner for a quick food quality inspection. He said hello first, with a smile I always admire -- a very comforting one -- while in his hand a transparent bag of pill bottles. I responded with a brief question of how he has been. As the question was eliciting more questions, we stood there for about three minutes, before I had the conviction to propose to him a lunch together. He was pleased, and with a confirmation, we had our lunch in the diner I had inspected earlier. The food was good, but the feeling was much more lovelier. I do think you readers have had similar incident; where a long departed friend suddenly reappears in front of you. That friend would have different countenance and ways of presenting himself, due to life’s exposure and increased autonomy over it. But you appreciate him nonetheless, even better, since you too have grown up as well. And you do can pinpoint several old habits he is too weak to get rid of, and by those behaviors you are convinced that he was the old boy who cried when his toys went missing, because in you yourself, a little boy who always consoled the latter. The same thing happened to me and Zaidi. He was still using the spoon to eat his noodles. He was still staring at the straw he used to sip his apple juice drink. His slight stutter as he spoke of his life’s achievements so far (due to his humbleness) was also unique to him. The only thing I found alien about him is the amount of sweat he produced during the entire lunch. It was so much, he was constantly wiping the product of perspiration off his forehead. I asked him if he was alright, he responded with a familiar “of course” and “couldn’t feel any better”. Afterwards, he insisted of paying the bills, and we went back to our own business, the ones paused for a friendly lunch. My stomach was indeed full, but my heart felt warm and livelier. Two days after, he died. Like, he simply collapsed by his front door. I was there, with car key already inserted in the ignition keyhole, when I saw him slumped face first to the cement ground. His medical equipment were everywhere, and not long after, a feminine scream could be heard from within his house. I could not move, I was stumped. I could only sit in my car motionlessly as I watched his immobile body being put onto a stretcher and was taken away using ambulance which subsequently came. I was frozen, ten minutes long, before I could sensibly recalled what had just happened. As night came, the sad news reached the whole neighborhood’s doors. Along the sad news Nadiah, Aizat and Susan went home, just for old time’s sake. We wore black attire, a customary uniform of our neighbor for such event. We exchanged hello-s and how-are-you-s, all that while staring at Zaidi’s pale body. I noticed Susan had also brought another man, her boyfriend I presumed, who looked a lot less compared to Zaidi who had had feelings for her -- she rejected him on the ground that a doctor and a lawyer cannot get along. But I cared less about that man. All I cared was they still had the heart to bid their childhood mate a last farewell. Soon after the funeral and subsequent ceremonial feast, I learned that they had returned to the place in which they worked. It was a sad thing to learn, that the only one who wanted to relive the memory had died. Else was too carried away by life. Days passed and I still could get over the fact that Zaidi had died. His diagnosis suggested overdosing of antidepressants like Zoloft™ and Doxepine™.I went to meet his mother a week after his demise to further investigate the reason behind his suicide. She cried hysterically right after I mentioned his name. I spent ten minutes to calm her down. It is always sad to watch anyone who had just lost their loved one. After making sure that she was stable enough to talk to, I projected the simple question of ‘why’. She said, dishearteningly, that Zaidi was in a succumbing state of breaking up; he could not carry on living without his lover, knowing that she chose someone else over him who had had inflicted a great deal of miseries onto himself just for her. And it did not surprise me as his mother mentioned the name Susan. It struck me as rather morbid to know that despite the mess she had caused, she still had the willpower to come over and paid Zaidi a last visit. But I did not blame her. Everyone change. Even Zaidi himself had changed, leaving only proof of his existence in the form of photos hanged on the wall of his house and his leather shoes for work. Upon thinking his final departure, I asked myself: why would I still try to mend a hopeless relationship when everyone else who used to be in it had no interest of doing so? Might I as well burn down the shed, which, upon a glance, summons a thousand kinds of sadness? I did several sessions of considerations about this. Eventually, I went down to the yard in the middle of the night with a can of gasoline in my right hand and a lighter in the other. I soaked the whole shed with the gasoline and put a newspaper I had lit which I found on my way there onto one of the walls. The fire ignited and spread fast. In just a matter of seconds the whole shed was engulfed in fire. As I contemplated upon the fire, I heard a shout from within the swirls of inferno. It followed with a hard banging of the walls and door. I became erratic and was trembling. It was a female and familiar voice. I did not know what to do; to barge into the fire would be suicidal, to shout was to signal that I was there, being the cause of a casualty. I had no evidence to suggest that I did it unintentionally; my narrative would be dismissed as fabrication. My fingerprints were all over the gas can and lighter. My survival instinct kicked in. So I threw the gas evidence into the flame and ran. As I ran, the wailing was audible. I ran towards a nearby house with tears rolling down. I wiped my tears before knocking the door. “Someone’s inside that burning shed!” I exclaimed. “Call the ambulance!” Just as the man inside the house was dialing emergency line using his cellphone, a particular burning figure was seen crushing out of the blazing structure. She was screaming, flailing her hands in the air, before slumping down onto the ground -- about twenty meters from us -- rolling all over the dirt as she tried to put out the fire that was ravaging every inch of her body. The man and I quickly ran towards her with a thick blanket. As we reached her, she was already motionless. We did put out the residual fire, but it was too late. She had met her grim fate. I burst into an uncontrollable scream of guilt. I ran in a directionless manner. The man was probably surprised by my demeanor. Or, he was most likely be looking me in suspicion. “I didn’t mean it… I didn’t meant it!! I DIDN’T MEAN ITT!!!” That was the line I uttered in front of the man, the only credible witness that night, with the loud crackling of fire as the background soundtrack, and starless sky above me. And it was also the same line I managed to voice out in front of the judge and suspecting juries. I lost the case; it was an easily solved crime for them: depression-caused killing; one that was caused by insurmountable grief, not of insanity, but of full clarity of rational intent of revenge. I was sentenced guilty for a first degree murder. I will face my own death in a week’s time. My whole family was heard wailing as the verdict was read, but there is only so little that they could do. The court privileged me a last wish that they would try to observe, I chose to see the shed, one last time. Zaidi’s mother approached me, and saying irrelevant things like ‘thank you’, ‘he would be so glad’ and ‘you are truly his best friend’. Now, as I observe the ruin of the shed, I know one thing: life is absurd. It punishes the kind, the good and those who uphold memories. It renders everyone who is dissatisfied with their current life a rather morbid or semi-morbid fate, and those who do vice and evil affair as being the ones who deserve to stay much longer. I know it is a wrong, irrational thought. But having myself cuffed for the crime I did not do and the death of Zaidi, I could not think of the otherwise. The only thing that has been haunting me is Susan’s real purpose being in that shed as I burned it down.... Read more

By Sven Medyon in
Reader Points: 60
Editor Points: 30000
Rank: 264
Views: 252
testcheckingone
Published on 09-06-2017 09:36 PM

A STUDY ON FINANCIAL PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS OF DATANOTIC INTERNATIONAL

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By testcheckingone in
Reader Points: 0
Editor Points: 0
Rank: 402
Views: 30
The Keys
Published on 09-05-2017 11:02 AM
                 Music is art for the ears. Killing is more like a full body experience when it comes to art. It's sort of like performing arts. There's just a magnificent thrill to the flick of a knife and the warm ever-so-comforting threshold of a gun as it makes the clicking noise and the bullet comes through. I like to make my crimes very clean and ...Learn More                 Music is art for the ears. Killing is more like a full body experience when it comes to art. It's sort of like performing arts. There's just a magnificent thrill to the flick of a knife and the warm ever-so-comforting threshold of a gun as it makes the clicking noise and the bullet comes through. I like to make my crimes very clean and mysterious, just like my music. I believe that in every musical masterpiece, the crescendo and forte should be in sync with the mysterious diminuendo to create a clean finish. All my victims have very different backgrounds and live very interesting lives. After all, a masterpiece has to be interesting to capture a beautiful combination of legato and staccato. My latest victim, for instance, Agathe, has a deep enthrallment for art of the medieval era. Her art were all inspired by artists like Donatello, Leon Battista Alberti and Filipo Brunelleschi. Ah! And not to forget her most distinguishable masterpiece, the one that lay in my thoughts for the longest time. I forgot its name, which is such a shame but oh, how I loved the exaggerated motion, drama, tension, exuberance and grandeur of it all. The Baroque was so evident in it I couldn't help but smile. Avant-garde indeed. It built an abundance of inspirational rhythms and hums that the itch made it hard to stop tapping my gloved fingers on the coffee table. I knew at once she was going to be my best victim yet. It definitely was not a waste of my precious time tracking her footsteps and peering into her tiny-framed window at night and letting the fastidiousness consume me.                     I came back to the rickety old house I called home. It does seem pretty ironic for a person with such a high status and extremely high income to live in such a drastically horrid place. There's just something to the eery vibe this house gives that makes me feel safe. The creeky floorboards that invite me into the house just like a magnet like it does on any normal day brings me peace after being out in the cacophonic world for too long. There, at the corner between the two French doors, was my majestic grand piano, my dearful companion for as long as my whole life. I walked across the living room and sat before my piano, with a fresh new musical literature, like a mental playlist alone to lead my fingers on the piano keys like a dance floor. My fingers tapped a new artistic pattern into the icy piano keys as the music flooded my mind as well as the house. Just like gas particles, the melancholy tune spreads into every inch of space in the house. The sound so strong, I felt it shape into figures slowly swaying me on my seat. Underneath the dominant tones of melancholy, there were subtle undertones that hinted at playfulness, an almost childlike aura hanging about it. Slowly the playful movements of my fingers filled with articulation across the keys cease as they end the new masterpiece.                      You see, being a world renowned musician has its perks. I can do and get what I want and when I want it but it doesn't have the same appeal that killing does. Don't get me wrong, I love my job and in no way has it ever filled me with ennui. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it does not complete me like slitting the throat of one of my many victims. All meticulous acts of the swiftful yet daring flicks of my glistening weapons against the bodies of those who happen to end up in my gripping arms are accompanied by music, usually the ragtimes I invented solely from my infatuation towards each victim. It's what drives my adrenaline and keeps the elan and dopamine running in my veins. "Humans," I say as I sigh as if I wasn't one, but I didn't consider myself parallel with their strange minds. The tears that traced down their faces were unfamiliar and alien to me, and the feelings provoking the were a whole different dimension to the one I was living in. Maybe I am the only person on the face of this planet that understands that feelings are just a burden and an impediment in reaching anything. I mean, look at me, I have very well succeeded in becoming one of the best musicians of my era at a young age of my 30s, all with no connections ever coming across. The often fleeting nature of fame and fortune is to make connections with people but I see it as a dumb obstacle everyone should be able to realize. Love is nothing but something that blocks you from your true potential and as long as nobody sees that, my passtime will remain the same, for my love of it and as a lesson to these impeccably naive humans.                         The next day was the day of my long awaited opus performance in L'Opera de Paris, the biggest opera house in my hometown. It had been so long since I went there the last time. Now, the walls look more worn and the seats that fill the huge majestic room smelled of old fabric. I sat backstage as I awaited for the crowd to finally calm down and take a seat. Again, I was fastidious and kept staring at the ornaments that decorated the once dormant room but instead of adoring the chandeliers, I wondered if one day I could somehow get the chance to bring it down onto the crowd as a grand finale of my performance. That would be magnificent! What a grand splash of blood and tears it would be, but what a great goodbye it would be to my career too. I roll my eyes as the backstage crew hints for me to go on stage. I played the instrumental piece I produced the day before very eloquently. As my fingers dance on the keys, I couldn't help but notice a familiar figure sitting in line with the audience. Her curly black hair and blue eyes could be distinguished from far away. She was wearing a beautiful red dress, very unlikely of her. Just as I thought, she was really enjoying this piece of music I brought about as if she knew it was meant for her. She swayed at her seat the way my fingers crossed from left to right ever so elegantly. Well, she wouldn't be so surprised if I played this as her life leaves her eyes later on, would she?                          As I walked to my car after the crowd had finally left to their respective homes, I sensed someone following me which was rather weird since it usually goes the other way around. I turned and Agathe was stunned beyond belief. "Oh, w-well, I j-just wanted to say th-that new piece really m-m-moved me, I loved it." Her gaze fell to her toes as she passed me a notebook, which I assumed meant she was asking for my autograph. Instead, I took the notebook and went into my car, leaving no other word. I nodded, as a sign of appreciation as she stared at me with her mouth agap, probably wondering the purpose of my actions. Well, I thought, she'll be getting that autograph right before her vision turns into nothing. A wonderful gift it would be.                          That night, I knew what I was going to do. I already changed into my favourite black shirt, the best way to hide any evidence of crime and I had my pair of lucky gloves too. I slipped the knife into my pants and was completely equipped to kill. Agathe's house was only a few blocks away which was rather convenient as well as it was coincidential. I took a look into her window and saw that she was ready to go to bed. Perfect. With my meticulous skills, I managed to get into her house without getting caught, as usual. I pulled out my tiny speakers from the pocket of my worn jeans. It could almost pass for a broken piece of useless machinery but its imperfection makes the scene more dramatic. I clicked on a few buttons and it started to play the song she had come to love. Her room was filled with her paintings and I've always wondered why she never tried selling them. They'd definitely make a lot of money though it wouldn't be of much use now. As I played the song, she looked rather confused, like she was wondering if she was going crazy listening to tunes coming from nowhere. Then it was time. I came into her room from her unlocked door (very unprofessional, I know) and I pulled the knife as I slashed it swiftfully across her chest in sync with the music. As the music got to its crescendo, I gave her the autograph she so desperately wanted in between muffled screams. The music was always loud enough to block the screams from everyone else hearing it. It just sounds like a huge afterparty all occuring in one room. Yes, an afterparty of blood splatter and what not. As the life began to leave her eyes and the feeling of gratification consumed myself, the song also was coming to an end. As you see, it really only took a few minutes but it felt like a lot more than that. Oh, how much pleasure it is to be the last thing someone sees before seeing nothing but an endless abyss. I ran out through the window with my clothes soaked and changed in the bushes of her backyard and later on burned the clothes I worn before. No signs to track me down. The next day was going to be just like any other Sunday, a day of flipping through newspapers while drinking a cup of Joe and waiting for my money to come in.                             I got a phone call two days after the fiasco asking for me to perform in someone's funeral. It's rather weird because I've never played for a funeral before. It just seemed too realistic of a place to perform, somehow rather ironic too. I later came to find out this person was a huge fan of my music and that it would really be nice if I could perform for her, not that I cared. I showed up in the funeral with my favourite tuxedo, ready to be the only sadistic person there to enjoy knowing of someone's death instead of weeping in the sidelines with the rest of the mourners. I later found out that this death belonged to that of Agathe. How brutal the symmetry is between art and death. Both are clearly romanticized way too much but both are withheld so dearly even if neither gives in return to what it takes. My breath hitches. Some attendees look at me peculiarly. I quickly adjust my body language to that of a confident man. I sit down on the piano chair and launch into Chopin's Funeral March, playing it more expressively than ever. Little do they know, I was the cause of her demise.                    As the familiar piece ended, I pretend to choke back tears. It just gives me such a rush to think that these people think she was killed by a head-on collision. I find myself an expert in meticulous and fastidious crime scenes, leaving nothing to the police or investigators. Famous musician by day, serial killer by night. Ah, how their tear stained faces give me life.  Suddenly, I reminisced of Agathe and her very familiar features. The girl, probably in her twenties, looked like the spitting image of my daughter who tragically passed away a few years back. Besides the stupidity of mankind, I believed that if my beautiful daughter couldn't live then nobody that resembled her should. Her love for music was the source of my joy and now everything that reminds me of it is my source of joy. I planned to erase all traces of the only love of my life. Her blue eyes remind me of the aura of the sky, the rocky ocean waters.                  Agnes, my dear, I do this all to avenge you. But alas, this is the day that I will join you, I thought, as I drove knowingly into the rocky ocean waters, the exact colour of her beautiful eyes.                                                                             ... Read more
By Izlyn in
Reader Points: 520
Editor Points: 57000
Rank: 2
Views: 3266
Vigilante
Published on 09-01-2017 05:33 PM

   I've seen it in my dreams, far too many times than I could count; it is all too familiar to me now.      Running through a dark alley way, turning left corners and rights. I was chasing after someone...something. Then I stopped to the sudden bang of a gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. I turned to the directio...Learn More   I've seen it in my dreams, far too many times than I could count; it is all too familiar to me now.      Running through a dark alley way, turning left corners and rights. I was chasing after someone...something. Then I stopped to the sudden bang of a gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. I turned to the direction where I heard those two things and there, I came upon a woman, weeping over her bleeding husband..."It's okay...dear...everything...is...okay....""Please...no...don't leave me...darling, no!"      I approached them. The woman saw me and pleaded, "Stay away...don't hurt us, please..." I answered, "No, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me, what happened?" She told me, "They shot him...and took something important..." I asked to clarify, "What is it?" She replied, "A briefcase"       Suddenly, as if the scene had changed instantaneously, I found myself running again. This time, I knew what I was searching for: a briefcase. Although I knew not what it was exactly, I knew it was important. Before long, I came across a parking lot and there I found two men in suit and tie, with the briefcase, getting into their car. So, I ran after them. One of them noticed me, took out his pistol and...BANG!              There was a blackout. Immediately, I jumped out of bed out of sudden shock. However, this was no new thing. These dreams would come quite frequently--the same dream, over and over again. It was often vague. Blur. Unclear...Void of detail.   *beep* *beep* *beep*                I looked at my alarm clock at my bedside. 6:30 am. It was a dull Monday morning, and I had to get out of bed and get ready for school. Oh! Pardon me. Where are my manners? My name is Matt Damien and I'm 17 summers of age...if we even have summer, of course. Haha. It's mostly dull here, in Tetraville, especially with the increasing crime rates and such; it's not just on Mondays. We live in a time and place where evil lurks at almost every corner at any time. You have to be careful here, especially in the heart of the city, because the most crime happens where the money can be found. That's right. The central banks, jewellery stores, gold exchange stores, shopping centres, and etcetera; they are all here. In these parts of Tetraville, it is a busy shopping haven, but also an ideal spot for all sorts of crime.                   There have been cases of theft, shoplifting, bank robberies, murders and assassinations. God knows what else could be happening that we don't already know. But don't worry, the police have got it covered...sort of. There is something I forgot to mention. Let's just say, I make the police's job easier for them.  Without further ado, I quickly got out of bed, brushed my teeth, took a shower, got into my school uniform, made and ate my breakfast. Then, I rushed out of my apartment, and sprinted to school. Tetra High is no less than just 5 blocks away, which was a 15 minute walk from my apartment, or 7 minutes if I sprinted.                I reached school just in time. I looked down at my wristwatch. 7:10 am. Assembly begins at 7:20 am. I dropped my bag in class and I hurried out. As I was heading down the hallway to the school field, I bumped into two of my classmates: Bob and Harry.   "Hey man, watch where you're going!"  "Dude, are you alright?"  "Sorry, guys. Yeah I'm fine" I quickly hurried along but Harry caught me by the arm. "Wait"  "What is it, Harry?""What is it? What is- oh come on, Matt. Bob you tell him""What!? Why me?""Just. Tell him."           Bob took a step forward. "Dude, where were you? You can't just keep disappearing from time to time like that."Harry spoke up, "Yeah. Ever since a few months ago, you'd be absent from class once in a while." Bob continued, "Yeah, and now, it's getting more frequent!" "Guys, I'll talk to you later. I'm going to go assemble at the school field. I suggest you two do the same." _____________________________________________________________________               School days are quite the usual. Especially on Mondays like this one. Assemble at the field, sing the school anthem, pledge the creeds, hear the announcements and finally, the Prinicpal's speech. Oh boy, the Principal's speech. He would just drag on and on; but I mean, hey, these are the usual formalities. Which school doesn't have them? This time however, it was a little different.               His speech went along the lines of "vigilantism is against the law because when the individual takes the law into his own hands, he executes justice that can only be done by the authorities. If you're not even a cop, don't even think of trying to play the hero!"Pfft, please. Like the police could do it. I mean, not to say they aren't good. Professional? Maybe. But slow.I'm just saying: even with the police, crime is still rampant. Anyway, this speech was brought up due to the rumours about a vigilante roaming around Tetraville during the night. Yes, you guessed it. It is yours truly.But I'm not going to tell Bob, Harry, or anyone else... ___________________________________________________________________ You must be wondering, how do I survive on my own in this harsh world? I'll just keep my backstory simple here:My mother died, and my father left me. The only things I have ever gotten from him were envelopes of stacks of money with a note saying "Take care of yourself. -Dad" in the mail every once a month.             Gee, Dad. Great to know you still "care". Anyway, I use that money for just about everything. From living expenses and basic needs to certain wants. After being a little fed up with the "normal" life of a high school student, I decided to take up crime fighting as a hobby.          I took martial arts classes, bought myself a baton, designed a dark costume for myself, and I did some research by reading all the news reports and criminal records on the Tetraville Police Force's crime database. Yes, I can hack. Having lived by myself for all these years made me into a strong, independent, person.             I couldn't care less about school. I try to balance it but as I'd say, it tends to get boring. I was desperate for some adventure. So I go out from time to time, at night. Why night? Because crime happens more at night than in broad daylight. The typical night would go something like this:I suit up, mask on, hood over my head, gloves on my hands, baton in my belt's holster, and I would be out of my apartment by 10:00 pm. Then, I roam around Tetravile. First, around the residential areas, the alleys, the nearby stores. Sometimes, I'd come across things like petty thieves and robbers, or slum dogs high on drugs beating up innocent passers-by in the alleys, or some gangsters extorting money. Same old, same old. Easy. Confront them. Push them aside, give them a few hits, knock them out. Then I discreetly return whatever is stolen and whip out my phone to call the police, inform them, and flee the scene.             After that, I'd run into the heart of the city--easy, since it's not far from where I stay-- and I go ahead and make my patrol. There was once a time I stopped a bank robbery, and prevented a few murder cases. By the way, just because it is late at night, it doesn't mean the city square won't be any less busy than it is at day. The thing is, at first, I didn't think I'd be so into crime fighting. But now, I feel like I was made for this!It feels prophetic.As for that recurring dream, however, it seems like that one's definitely bound to happen. ___________________________________________________________________________________BANG!*beep* *beep* *beep* *be-*      I shut my alarm clock, and looked at it. 6:30am. Last night wasn't much, though. It was actually peaceful for once. I encountered one or two hooligans, but that was all. I went freerunning around town and then came back to my apartment at 1:15am, slightly earlier than my usual 2:00am return. It's Tuesday morning. School's as usual. I jumped out of bed, did my morning routine, got out and headed straight to school. ____________________________________________________________________________________            When I came back from school today, I quickly took a shower, ate my lunch, and then turned my laptop on.               There was all the talk going on in school regarding a certain Professor Emerest today. Something about a large scale project he's been working on. If I'm not mistaken, he is pretty well-known in the software and systems engineering fields. It just so happens that I don't really pay much attention to certain public figures, what more scientists? So I went ahead and researched the news sites: it seems that there will be a conference held today at Tetraville City Hall, in conjunction with Science Week, and he's going to be there. This will be interesting. ____________________________________________________________________________________              I suited up and got out of the house by 8:00pm. Usually, I'd sprint all around the place but this time, I was cycling there. When I arrived there, it was 8:10pm. I parked my bike at the back of the hall and then proceeded in through the back door. I hid myself neatly backstage to see what they were all talking about, or presenting. I managed to take a peek at the attendees present there. Some were journalists, news reporters, and I saw some other well-known scientists too. I kept on looking around and before I knew it, it was Professor Emerest's turn to present his project. He showed a slideshow and presented the large scale project he was working on: a high-integrity network systems that connects and secures all servers in Tetraville for the secure flow and access of data and information. Most of the attendees posed him questions, of which one of them went, "How are you so sure it won't be easily hacked and the data misused?" I smirked a little. "Good question, but I can't really reveal much of it as of the moment, as it is currently still under development," the Professor replied. "All will be known in it's due time."                                           He concluded his presentation, removed the thumbdrive connected to his laptop, and placed it in a briefcase. Inside were another thumbdrive, and some documents. Then he closed it, and left the stage. Wait a second, I thought, that's the briefcase! I looked around and I spotted, among the attendees, two suspicious men in suit and tie. One of them held a detonator, and pressed it. BOOM! Everyone became shocked. It seemed that somebody's car that was parked just outside the hall had just exploded-- the Professor's! The two men immediately moved toward the Professor. Apparently, Professor Emerest's wife, Lady Sophia was there. He took her by the hand and they both rushed outside. "Come on, Sophia, we have to go. They're coming for us!" Was this the fulfilment of the dream? I ran outside looking for them, clueless of where they went. I then ran to the back of the hall. They were not there either. Then I noticed the two men going into one of the alleys. So I took my bike and chased after them. The alleys were dark and dimly lit. I turned left corners and rights, but to no avail. Suddenly, I heard a gunshot and a woman's scream. Bingo! I turned left again, went straight and then I stopped and parked the bike there. I got off it and approached them."It's okay...dear...everything...is...okay....""Please...no...don't leave me...darling, no!"               The Professor was bleeding. Lady Sophia, full of tears, looked up to see me standing there "Stay away...don't hurt us, please..." I answered, "No, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me, what happened?""They shot him...and took-""The briefcase?""Yes"              "I'll go find them. You stay here and call the ambulance and the police." I quickly cycled out of the alleys and into an area which seemed like a parking lot. I spotted the two men, with the briefcase, just about to get into their car. One of them spotted me and tried to shoot me. His shots didn't hit me but trying to dodge them made me fell off my bike. They sped out of the parking lot and drove off. I picked up my bike and pursued them from a distance. Lucky for me, they didn't seem to bother about me at all. The car then stopped at an abandoned building, and the two men got out of the car and entered through the front door. I called the police. "Tetraville Police Force. What's your situation?" "Hey," I said, "This is urgent. I found the men who stole Professor Emerest's briefcase and attempted his murder. I'm leaving the call on so you could trace my location. Be here where I am ASAP!""Location is locked on your call. Dispatch team is on their way."             I sneaked into the building by the back door and saw what looked like a meeting of Mafia, about 10 of them. There, on the table they were at, was the briefcase. Suddenly a man called from behind me, "Hey! What are you doing here?" I quickly turned around and knocked him out cold with my baton.  "What was that?" I quickly hid myself. "Did you hear anything?", one mafia member asked. The other replied, "I'm not so sure" "Mr.V, did you hear anything?" Mr. V then spoke, "I think we may have been compromised, men. Search the area!"        Strange. Mr. V's voice sounded awfully familiar. I didn't want to wait any longer. I proceeded to reveal myself. I took them head on, one by one. Some took their guns out and started firing at me. I remembered my training well. I dodged the bullets, rolled and countered them, disabling some of them. Then I saw one Mafia with a mask take the briefcase and was about to leave. That must be Mr. V! I quickly threw my baton at him. It hit his head and his mask fell off. Wait, is that...my..."Dad?"            It made sense now. V for Victor Damien. My father. He looked at me, puzzled. Everyone else stopped. I took off my mask, and let down my hood. I looked at him straight in the eye. "Matt. Son, it's been a long ti-" "No, don't call me that! Just tell me, why? After all this time you left me, and this is what you do?"BOOM! The doors flung open and we were surrounded by armed police. "Freeze!" ... Read more

By Aaron J. Patrick in
Reader Points: 260
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 304
Views: 1029
Vigilante
Published on 09-01-2017 04:14 PM
    I've seen it in my dreams, far too many times than I could count; it is all too familiar to me now.Running through a dark alley way, turning left corners and rights. I was chasing after somone...something. Then I stopped to the sudden bang of a gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. I turned to the direction where I heard those two things and there, I came upon a woman, weeping ...Learn More    I've seen it in my dreams, far too many times than I could count; it is all too familiar to me now.Running through a dark alley way, turning left corners and rights. I was chasing after somone...something. Then I stopped to the sudden bang of a gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. I turned to the direction where I heard those two things and there, I came upon a woman, weeping over her bleeding husband..."It's okay...dear...everything...is...okay....""Please...no...don't leave me...darling, no!"I approached them. The woman saw me and pleaded, "Stay away...don't hurt us, please..."I answered, "No, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me, what happened?"She told me, "They shot him...and took something important..."I asked to clarify, "What is it?" She replied, "A briefcase"     Suddenly, as if the scene had changed instantaneously, I found myself running again. This time, I knew what I was searching for: a briefcase. Although I knew not what it was exactly, I knew it was important. Before long, I came across a parking lot and there I found two men in suit and tie, with the briefcase, getting into their car. So, I ran after them. One of them noticed me, took out his pistol and...BANG!     There was a blackout. Immediately, I jumped out of bed out of sudden shock. However, this was no new thing. These dreams would come quite frequently--the same dream, over and over again. It was often vague. Blur. Unclear...Void of detail.*beep* *beep* *beep*I looked at my alarm clock at my bedside. 6:30 am. It was a dull Monday morning, and I had to get out of bed and get ready for school. Oh! Pardon me. Where are my manners? My name is Matt Damien and I'm 17 summers of age...if we even have summer, of course. Haha. It's mostly dull here, in Tetraville, especially with the increasing crime rates and such; it's not just on Mondays. We live in a time and place where evil lurks at almost every corner at any time. You have to be careful here, especially in the heart of the city, because the most crime happens where the money can be found. That's right. The central banks, jewellery stores, gold exchange stores, shopping centres, and etcetera; they are all here. In these parts of Tetraville, it is a busy shopping haven, but also an ideal spot for all sorts of crime.There have been cases of theft, shoplifting, bank robberies, murders and assassinations. God knows what else could be happening that we don't already know. But don't worry, the police have got it covered...sort of. There is something I forgot to mention. Let's just say, I make the police's job easier for them.Without further ado, I quickly got out of bed, brushed my teeth, took a shower, got into my school uniform, made and ate my breakfast. Then, I rushed out of my apartment, and sprinted to school. Tetra High is no less than just 5 blocks away, which was a 15 minute walk from my apartment, or 7 minutes if I sprinted. I reached school just in time. I looked down at my wristwatch. 7:10 am. Assembly begins at 7:20 am. I dropped my bag in class and I hurried out. As I was heading down the hallway to the school field, I bumped into two of my classmates: Bob and Harry. "Hey man, watch where you're going!""Dude, are you alright?""Sorry, guys. Yeah I'm fine"I quickly hurried along but Harry caught me by the arm. "Wait""What is it, Harry?""What is it? What is- oh come on, Matt. Bob you tell him""What!? Why me?""Just. Tell him."Bob took a step forward. "Dude, where were you? You can't just keep disappearing from time to time like that."Harry spoke up, "Yeah. Ever since a few months ago, you'd be absent from class once in a while."Bob continued, "Yeah, and now, it's getting more frequent!""Guys, I'll talk to you later. I'm going to go assemble at the school field. I suggest you two do the same."                            _________________________________________________________________________School days are quite the usual. Especially on Mondays like this one. Assemble at the field, sing the school anthem, pledge the creeds, hear the announcements and finally, the Prinicpal's speech. Oh boy, the Principal's speech. He would just drag on and on; but I mean, hey, these are the usual formalities. Which school doesn't have them? This time however, it was a little different. His speech went along the lines of "vigilantism is against the law because when the individual takes the law into his own hands, he executes justice that can only be done by the authorities. If you're not even a cop, don't even think of trying to play the hero!"Pfft, please. Like the police could do it. I mean, not to say they aren't good. Professional? Maybe. But slow.I'm just saying: even with the police, crime is still rampant.Anyway, this speech was brought up due to the rumours about a vigilante roaming around Tetraville during the night.Yes, you guessed it. It is yours truly.But I'm not going to tell Bob, Harry, or anyone else...                                  ___________________________________________________________________             You must be wondering, how do I survive on my own in this harsh world? I'll just keep my backstory simple here:My mother died, and my father left me. The only things I have ever gotten from him were envelopes of stacks of money with a note saying "Take care of yourself. -Dad" in the mail every once a month.      Gee, Dad. Great to know you still "care". Anyway, I use that money for just about everything. From living expenses and basic needs to certain wants. After being a little fed up with the "normal" life of a high school student, I decided to take up crime fighting as a hobby.I took martial arts classes, bought myself a baton, designed a dark costume for myself, and I did some research by reading all the news reports and criminal records on the Tetraville Police Force's crime database. Yes, I can hack. Having lived by myself for all these years made me into a strong, independent, person.I couldn't care less about school. I try to balance it but as I'd say, it tends to get boring. I was desperate for some adventure. So I go out from time to time, at night. Why night? Because crime happens more at night than in broad daylight. The typical night would go something like this:I suit up, mask on, hood over my head, gloves on my hands, baton in my belt's holster, and I would be out of my apartment by 10:00 pm. Then, I roam around Tetravile. First, around the residential areas, the alleys, the nearby stores... Sometimes, I'd come across things like petty thieves and robbers, or slum dogs high on drugs beating up innocent passers-by in the alleys, or some gangsters extorting money. Same old, same old. Easy. Confront them. Push them aside, give them a few hits, knock them out. Then I discreetly return whatever is stolen and whip out my phone to call the police, inform them, and flee the scene. After that, I'd run into the heart of the city--easy, since it's not far from where I stay-- and I go ahead and make my patrol. There was once a time I stopped a bank robbery, and prevented a few murder cases. By the way, just because it is late at night, it doesn't mean the city square won't be any less busy than it is at day. The thing is, at first, I didn't think I'd be so into crime fighting. But now, I feel like I was made for this!It feels prophetic.As for that recurring dream, however, it seems like that one's definitely bound to happen.                  ______________________________________________________________________________________BANG!*beep* *beep* *beep* *be-*I shut my alarm clock, and looked at it. 6:30am. Last night wasn't much, though. It was actually peaceful for once. I encountered one or two hooligans, but that was all. I went freerunning around town and then came back to my apartment at 1:15am, slightly earlier than my usual 2:00am return.It's Tuesday morning. School's as usual. I jumped out of bed, did my morning routine, got out and headed straight to school.           _______________________________________________________________________________________________    When I came back from school today, I quickly took a shower, ate my lunch, and then turned my laptop on.There was all the talk going on in school regarding a certain Professor Emerest today. Something about a large scale project he's been working on. If I'm not mistaken, he is pretty well-known in the software and systems engineering fields. It just so happens that I don't really pay much attention to certain public figures, what more scientists? So I went ahead and researched the news sites: it seems that there will be a conference held today at Tetraville City Hall, in conjunction with Science Week, and he's going to be there.This will be interesting.          ________________________________________________________________________________________________              I suited up and got out of the house by 8:00pm. Usually, I'd sprint all around the place but this time, I was cycling there. When I arrived there, it was 8:10pm. I parked my bike at the back of the hall and then proceeded in through the back door. I hid myself neatly backstage to see what they were all talking about, or presenting. I managed to take a peek at the attendees present there. Some were journalists, news reporters, and I saw some other well-known scientists too.          I kept on looking around and before I knew it, it was Professor Emerest's turn to present his project. He showed a slideshow and presented the large scale project he was working on: a high-integrity network systems that connects and secures all servers in Tetraville for the secure flow and access of data and information. Most of the attendees posed him questions, of which one of them went, "How are you so sure it won't be easily hacked and the data misused?" I smirked a little."Good question, but I can't really reveal much of it as of the moment, as it is currently still under development," the Professor replied. "All will be known in it's due time."He concluded his presentation, removed the thumbdrive connected to his laptop, and placed it in a briefcase. Inside were another thumbdrive, and some documents. Then he closed it, and left the stage. Wait a second, I thought, that's the briefcase! I looked around and I spotted, among the attendees, two suspicious men in suit and tie. One of them held a detonator, and pressed it. BOOM! Everyone became shocked. It seemed that somebody's car that was parked just outside the hall had just exploded-- the Professor's! The two men immediately moved toward the Professor. Apparently, Professor Emerest's wife, Lady Sophia was there. He took her by the hand and they both rushed outside. "Come on, Sophia, we have to go. They're coming for us!" Was this the fulfilment of the dream?  I ran outside looking for them, clueless of where they went. I then ran to the back of the hall. They were not there either. Then I noticed the two men going into one of the alleys. So I took my bike and chased after them. The alleys were dark and dimly lit. I turned left corners and rights, but to no avail. Suddenly, I heard a gunshot and a woman's scream. Bingo! I turned left again, went straight and then I stopped and parked the bike there. I got off it and approached them."It's okay...dear...everything...is...okay....""Please...no...don't leave me...darling, no!"The Professor was bleeding.Lady Sophia, full of tears, looked up to see me standing there "Stay away...don't hurt us, please..."I answered, "No, it's okay. I'm not here to hurt you. Tell me, what happened?""They shot him...and took-""The briefcase?""Yes""I'll go find them. You stay here and call the ambulance and the police." I quickly cycled out of the alleys and into an area which seemed like a parking lot. I spotted the two men, with the briefcase, just about to get into their car. One of them spotted me and tried to shoot me. His shots didn't hit me but trying to dodge them made me fell off my bike. They sped out of the parking lot and drove off. I picked up my bike and pursued them from a distance. Lucky for me, they didn't seem to bother about me at all.The car then stopped at an abandoned building, and the two men got out of the car and entered through the front door.I called the police. "Tetraville Police Force. What's your situation?""Hey," I said, "This is urgent. I found the men who stole Professor Emerest's briefcase and attempted his murder. I'm leaving the call on so you could trace my location. Be here where I am ASAP!""Location is locked on your call. Dispatch team is on their way."I sneaked into the building by the back door and saw what looked like a meeting of Mafia, about 10 of them. There, on the table they were at, was the briefcase. Suddenly a man called from behind me, "Hey! What are you doing here?" I quickly turned around and knocked him out cold with my baton. "What was that?"I quickly hid myself."Did you hear anything?", one Mafia askedThe other replied, "I'm not so sure""Mr.V, did you hear anything?"Mr. V then spoke, "I think we may have been compromised, men. Search the area!"Strange. Mr. V's voice sounded awfully familiar. I didn't want to wait any longer. I proceeded to reveal myself. I took them head on, one by one. Some took their guns out and started firing at me. I remembered my training well. I dodged the bullets, rolled and countered them, disabling some of them. Then I saw one Mafia with a mask take the briefcase and was about to leave. That must be Mr. V! I quickly threw my baton at him. It hit his head and his mask fell off. Wait, is that...my..."Dad?"It made sense now. V for Victor Damien. My father. He looked at me, puzzled. Everyone else stopped.I took off my mask, and let down my hood. I looked at him straight in the eye."Matt. Son, it's been a long ti-""No, don't call me that! Just tell me, why? After all this time you left me, and this is what you do?"BOOM! The doors flung open and we were surrounded by armed police. "Freeze!"... Read more
By Aaron J. Patrick in
Reader Points: 0
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 202
Views: 36
The Phantom Of New Orleans
Published on 08-30-2017 04:56 PM
 It was 2003 when I started my job as a detective,I was just a young rookie at the age of 19 when i entered the academy.Through daily struggles I worked my way to be at the top of my class.At the end of the academy, I ended up with the best scores among the other worthless recruits.I guess thinking about it now,I didn't have as many friends in the academy because of my competitive spirit.Anyw...Learn More It was 2003 when I started my job as a detective,I was just a young rookie at the age of 19 when i entered the academy.Through daily struggles I worked my way to be at the top of my class.At the end of the academy, I ended up with the best scores among the other worthless recruits.I guess thinking about it now,I didn't have as many friends in the academy because of my competitive spirit.Anyways enough of my backstory,my name's Jacques Lawliet and today I am known as a world renown detective or as some people call me the living 'Sherlock Holmes'.Throughout the past 6 years I have solved more than 264 murder cases, from gruesome murders to silent ones. It was always sickening observing the body of a victim but i grown fond of it. Working alone suits my taste when solving the murders, I do not like other people slowing down my progress. I must admit it has been lonely. All those sleepless nights thinking about how to connect the dots of each murder or observing the autopsy of the body or even questioning witness and the heartbroken relatives of the victim, but then again its always the same thing over and over again. There will always be a someone who will be locked up. It was the same routine for me in every murder.   It was a cold night, rain was heavy. I got a message from chief saying he needs me to be in New Orleans as soon as possible. "Damn It! It's a public holiday" I thought to myself. So I got dressed and left my house to leave for the airport. (3 hours later....)When I arrived at airport, I remembered the chief said that he'll fetch me. As I went up the escalator to the waiting area, I looked left and right searching for the chief but the old geezer wasn't there. Then, I noticed a woman wearing a red dress with a lovely smile holding a sign saying (WELCOME SHERLOCK).So i approached her and she said "come on lets get it the car sweetie". I had no other choice but to go with her. We got into the car and she said that the chief was feeling under the weather and decided to ask her to fetch me instead. We arrived at the autopsy room,I thought to myself this will be like any other day doing my job. As I looked at the body it seemed to be no ordinary victim. It was Jones Mcmicheal the stockbroker who made millions in just a few months. He was notorius for his power hungry attitude to use people for his own gain but sadly karma got the best of him, everything seemed normal about the body but I knew something was off. The pathologist said that Jones was on medication. He was reportedly diagnosed with Coronary Artery Disease and has to take aspirin daily. His body was found at the basement of his house last week and has been requested by family members to do an autopsy of his body. It isn't known if it was a case of homicide or natural death but I knew I needed to solve it. Then the chief arrived and greeted me "Its great to see you again inspector Lawliet, I didn't want to say this but you will be assign with Miss Emillia Clark here to solve this case with you". Then Emilia spoke saying "Oh pardon my rudeness Mr Jacques I forgot to introduce myself, I am Emillia Clark or known as The Crimson Widow you may heard of me". Then I remembered there was a detective who was also as famous as me named The Crimson Widow her backstory was quite tragic,her husband was a billionaire but died and his wealth and properties were given to a few unknown people. She was known for her detective skills when it comes to autopsy and discovering the cause of death, she might be useful in this case iIthought to myself eventhough i liked working alone. So we agreed to both work together to solve the case but it was already at the dead of night and we were all tired. I grabbed a taxi and stayed at a hotel nearby, Emilia on the other hand was born here in New Orleans and didn't need to stay in some lousy and dirty hotel like me.   Next morning, I took a taxi back to the hospital and walked to the autopsy room, I was the first one in there the morning.Then i noticed something white on the body of Jones Mcmicheal.There was a letter and a red rose on it, I opened the letter and it said (THE GAME IS ON MR LAWLIET).Too my suprise I thought to myself "This isn't going to be an easy case to solve".Then Emillia arrived and was shock too when reading the text she said "Well Mr Jacques lets play the game together". The chief arrived too not long after that and asked the hospital staff to check the CCTV cameras for any suspicious figures, the camera footage showed that what appeared to be a woman figure wearing a masquerade mask of coloured red and carrying a bonquet of roses. We could not see what the suspect was saying to the body of Mr Jones because of the heavy thunderstorm outside last night which also interupted the sound, so me and Miss Emillia begin our case. Firstly we suspected the murderer to be the wife of Mr Jones because according to the close family members of Mr Jones. His wife named Rebecca Jones was a so called gold digger and since Mr Jones didnt have any kids nor trust any of his family members.The personal belongings of Mr Jones will be given to his wife,so we called Mrs Jones to the police station and questioned her at the investigation room. I asked her "Good afternoon Mrs Jones,how are you today?" "fine" "So today we will be asking a couple of questions." "Go ahead." "Where were you in the night Mr Jones was murdered?" "I was at the mall with my friends" "How was Mr Jones condition the day before he died" "It was strange he started to cough uncontrollably and whispered he regretted doing something or some sort and said he felt he didn't feel so well" "Where were you the night before today?" "Ugh please stop asking me like you're my dad" "Fine, was it true that you had a so called afair without Mr Jones knowledge and It was reportedly that you married Mr Jones for his money, is this true?" With tears coming down her face she shouted "I loved My husband with all my heart, he changed me into a better person!"   Then Emillia went in the room and asked me to review this footage at the parking area at the mall where it can be seen that Mrs Jones was there alongside her 3 friends and so Mrs Jones was released and been pledge as innocent. Not long the results of the autopsy was here and it was founded that Mr Jones was killed by a toxin that can only produced by the rarest kind of rose named Red Death. "It doesn't make sense there wasnt any record of death caused by this flower in modern times either because it was already extinct back in 1890s, the mystery only deepens" Emillia said to me in a unsatisfied tone. Soon we received a message from the chief saying there was another death in New Orleans of another famous person named Richard Wiliams, he was also a man who made millions in just a few months. So me and Emillia drove there, his body was also placed in the same hospital. As we went in the autopsy room to investigate, the nurse gave me a letter and a rose that was found on the body. I opened the letter and it said (YOUR TURN MR LAWLIET). I thought to myself "This woman is insane but there must be a reason why she is killing people who specifically made millions in a few months" Jealousy? Revenge? or maybe for sport".The body was still intact and no harm was done externally,then Emillia asked the pathologists to open up the body and see if there is any damage to the heart. Overwhelming enough, the heart was damaged which was caused by the toxin of the same rose that killed Mr Jones. "The more questions we answer the more questions pop up, this is getting out of hand" said Emillia. We both were tired after having one hell of a day and decided to go back to our seperate places.  Next day, I received a message from Emillia saying that "Jacques i am sorry but...the chief is dead...he was found in the bathroom of his house by his wife and has been hospitalized but sadly..its too late". I dropped my phone and with an angry smile i said to myself "The game is on indeed". Me and Emillia attended the funeral of the chief, and with a heavy heart I said "Dont worry chief i will find you justice". After the funeral we asked his wife about any strange behaviour occuring. She said that her husband was a healthy man and was not diagnosed with any kind of sickness but recently he has been acting strange and was always coughing. I knew all these deaths had to be connected somehow or another, it was already 9:00 PM and Emillia asked if me I could stay at her place to talk about the deaths and how we can connect the dots. I agreed because its better to stay at a friend's house rather than a lousy hotel. We arrived at her home and i could say it was rather cozy, her wallpaper were all red in colour and I saw a few mask hanging on the wall asked why does she like the colour red so much and why are there masks hanging on the wall. Emillia said in a sad tone "It reminds me of the colour of blood which I always hated to see, but ironically I work as a detective and as for the masks, it's a hobby I picked up when my husband is still alive". There was only one bed in her house and I asked her "Do I sleep on the coach?" she said  "No sweetie you are going to share a bed with me and i am going to make you the happiest man in the world in bed". I thought to myself  "I never really find love interesting or even had a first love but Miss Emillia is one of a kind and also has a devilish body" and so I agreed.  The next morning I woke up from the bed still feeling tired, I turned my head left and right but Emillia was no where to be seen. I then decided to walk outside her room, then I saw the same bonquet of roses in the CCTV footage on her table,"It was her, it was her all along how could I not see it" I thought to myself.Then Emillia snuck up behind me and said "Good morning sleeping beauty". As I pretended to not notice the flowers "Morning Emillia" as I said this I looked left and right to find a door to escape. Then she invited me to the kitchen for breakfast as she said "You cant go crime solving with an empty stomach". On the table were coffee and pancakes, I Thought to myself "It'll be safer if I only ate the pancakes" to avoid suspicion, but then she asked me "Whats the problem Mr Jacques, dont like coffee?" as she smiles. I grabed my phone and excused myself to go to toliet, I called the police and explained the situation "We'll be there in 5 minutes" said the operator My heart was racing as I knew my life was in danger, *knock knock* "you okay in there Jacques?" she asked I opened the door and there she was holding a knife. "I wanted to let you die peacefully by the poison Mr Lawliet but you forced me to do this" she said this as stabbed me in the gut with a knife. I couldn't countered her attack due to the shock "Why would you do this Emillia?" I asked. "Why you ask? Let me ask you something, Do you know who the chief really is?" As I remembered, I had flashbacks of a document I read in the chief office about a cover up of some sort, of a billionaire and it stated he was working with two anonymous men as well, but I brushed it off because I trusted the chief and thought he was a man of justice. "The roses where the perfect kiling instrument for this crime. They were extremely rare to find and there was no recorded cure for it, when the host swallows the toxin it will take 4 to 3 days for it to travel to the heart and ultimately lead to death of the poor victim" as she explained. As I begin to faint from blood loss I said "It was you, you all along" while hearing police sirens outside.   I woke up and was greeted by my colleagues, they said the ambulance arrived on time and delivered me to the hospital where they fixed me up. As I look down towards my stomach, I saw my bottom half was treated and bandaged. The police also came and questioned me about Emillia. They told me "Emiliia manage to escape from the us with a secret tunnel built underground that we discovered". I thought to myself "Well Emillia the game isn't over". ... Read more
By Geraldton Gukang in
Reader Points: 100
Editor Points: 30000
Rank: 261
Views: 376
Mental
Published on 08-27-2017 06:38 PM
 

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By Sarah L in
Reader Points: 20
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 187
Views: 132
Economical Condition
Published on 08-27-2017 05:47 PM
The developments of the world raises a question on How Ethical economies are functioning. It almost seems to be imposible to be very ethical in todays rapidly developing world. The intrest of profit has changed the economy into a mess. By being ethical could a nation win in the great competitive economy is a question being raised to reason the unethical behavior of the globe. It makes no sense to ...Learn MoreThe developments of the world raises a question on How Ethical economies are functioning. It almost seems to be imposible to be very ethical in todays rapidly developing world. The intrest of profit has changed the economy into a mess. By being ethical could a nation win in the great competitive economy is a question being raised to reason the unethical behavior of the globe. It makes no sense to talk much about quality of life without exploring the dangers of todays economy.This rapidly growing economy has created much of inequality leading to crime and poverty.There are many references to the poverty rates in USA.Despite the poverty trap USA is undergoing ,we see USA as a developed nation. It has been quite long that we have been exepting some immature ideologiest about ethical behavior in the global economy.I would clearly say and voutch that the idea of development in today's world is very childish.The power and victory of some citizents in one Economy shows the large inequelity.USA is facing a tread of too many migrants ,poverty,unhealty lifestyle.If this issue goes on  with it's population it would lead to severe problems.  In the recent few years there has been a increse in the crime and poverty rate in Asian Country.There is a lot of strategic atmsphere needed for a successful economy.I would point Singapore to be a developed country with the trap of unhealty citizens.Citizents are the assets of a Country.It is important for a country to have healty citizents to run the economy.The productivity and participation of the citizents in economical activity is one of the most important issue to be tackeled in a economy. If there is full participation and inspiration to work in Citizents ,the economy would have low inflation,low employment rates and higher productivity.This would lower the crime rates and poverty of a country.Huge countries such as China with much facilities had opportunities to increase it's productivity.I would say that despite of much issues going on in China,China has been more succesful in developing it's nation than in USA. Crime is a ongoing war waged by many developing and develped nations of the world.Crime rates has been crazyly incresing in developing countries.Crime can be controlled with strict laws and practises.But the fuldemental proplems of victimology can't be easy solved in todays world.Poverty is a huge tree behing Victimology.Poverty gave courage to criminals do be unethical,inhuman and illegal. The question of what does this polite word 'inhuman' actually tries to refer has been a question many peoples minds.Are 'inequality,poverty and suffering' human qulities?Without a solusion,guidance or accurate answer criminals are brough up like viruses in a economy destroying the economy of a country.Criminals should be though skills and retrained for employment.This would be a ideal solusion to have a larger human working capital and low poverty in an economy. In developed countries there is higher competition for jobs creating high unemployment leading to poverty.This shows some inefficiency in training and educating the citizents to be higly productive.This issue has been very nicely handled by CHINA. Poverty means low economical activity,unhealty lifestyle and low life quality. In one of the researh on beggers it was found that 70 percent of the beggars would like to be employed.This shows that the resources in a country is not enough to employ all this workers.Poverty seems to be a disaster in the USA.This disaster was caused due to the economical structure of FREE MARKET ECONOMY. Ths shows the importance of goverment intervention in any country.Too much of development may not be always goog for a country.Once a country is higly developed there will be redundancy due to tecnology.This is the curent issue in USA.Production has been simplified with higly skilled workers and machineries leading to unemployment for entry-level workers. But in China,productivity similarly increases as tecnological factors improve.There are many invesments going on in China due to cthe availability of Cost-effective labour. Developing and Rapidly Developing countries such as Cambodia,Malaysia and Indonesia are enjoying development due to large investments and tourism beucause of its depreciation of curency and cost-effective labour.  Many potential investment are withrawn  from USA due to the high cost leading to poverty.This investments are being atracted by developing countries. In developing countries there are high rates of economical activity causing more job opportunities.USA has been undergoing very high inflation compared to many developing countries. China is a country with rapid economical activity.Labour productivity in China is higher than USA due to the opportunities and skills available to citizents in China. Small countries such as Singapore has been suffering with very minimal resources.The availabilty of natural resources is one of the major factors in the development of a country. Most of the development in Australia is due to the availability of natural resources.Many developing countries depend on Primary sector for development. China has great control,power and authority over many products of the world through internationalm trading.It is almost imposible for many countries to produce their own products without the help of China beucause of it's unbelievable experience in Production. China has made many countries depentend on thier production.This shows that there would be a great sloop in the development of many economies if there is any traiding issues with China. China has conquered the production industry by making proction cost-effective in China.China has done something that seems to be nearly imposible in the global economy.China is in a leading position to command many changes in the global economy. The power that China has attained over the yearse throught international trading is not only nearly imposible but also dangerous. This creates a question on how productive are many developed countries compare to China.It seems to be almost like abattle with China's capabilities and skills. Communication and many more tecnological development are due to the unexplainable development and strategic planning of China.It is important for other ecomies to have some production in their own country to be indepentend from China. ... Read more
By Karthika in
Reader Points: 0
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 341
Views: 52
The Gentle Sex
Published on 08-24-2017 11:15 AM

The Gentle Sex    (  by Dr Salina Abdullah  )

( 2,357words )

 

Learn MoreThe Gentle Sex    (  by Dr Salina Abdullah  ) ( 2,357words )   The word  Gender  visualizes  the Male and Female . But we forget the existence of yet  another  few . They are the Transgender  which again varieties exist in the form of character or personality . The 3 gender groups are the Creations of our beloved 0ne Creator . Behavioral  Science and Medicine have done intensive study and there is restricted treatment and acceptance into the normal society . From the chaos, something beautiful is emerging -- people's movements are destroying the darkest dreams of the far-right and carving out a new and exciting path forward for all of us. Vision of the  Soroptimist International  club : Vision : To be a global voice for women through awareness,advocacy and action. : Human Rights for all : Equality ,development and peace The Core Purpose : of SI is to advance human rights and the status of women . The core values : of SI is  committed to :  Service to local,national and international communities  Active participation in decision making at all levels of society . Sustainable Development Goals The SDGs replace the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs ), which in September 2000 rallied the world around a common 15year agenda to tackle the indignity of poverty . With the job unfinished for millions of people we need to go the last mile on ending hunger, achieving full gender equality , improving health services and getting …………. Now we must shift the  world onto a sustainable path .The SDGs aim to do just that with 2030 as the target date . This new development agenda applies to all countries , promotes peaceful and inclusive societies, …… SDG 3 : Good Health and well - being . (There has been a rise in HIV/ AIDS  amongst the Transgender group ). 2.3 Goal 3: Promote gender equality and empower women SDG5 : Gender Equality 2.5 Goal 5 : Improve maternal Health 2.6 Goal 6 : Combat HIV/AIDs  (?) …. Goal 3 SDG10: Reduced inequalities SDG16 : Peace , justice and strong institutions . The United Nations Millennium Campaign Spread of AIDS, MDG 6A :  It is thought that the current MDGs targets do not place enough emphasis on tracking gender ……. To encourage women’s empowerment and progress towards the Mdgs , increased emphasis should be placed on gender mainstreaming development policies and collecting data based on gender . GOAL MDG 7A : Integrate  the principles of sustainable development into country policies and programs: …….. Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Disrimination Against Women (CEDAW) Is an International treaty adopted in 1979 by the United Nations General Assembly.  Described as an Internationsl bill of rights for women , it was instituted 3rd September 1981 and has been ratified by 189 states . Languages include Arabic , Chinese , English , French , Russian and Spanish . Summary 1.    (Article 1-6 ) focuses on non discrimination , sex stereotypes, and sex trafficking . 2.    (Article 7-9 ) outlines women’s rights in the public sphere with an emphasis on political life , representation and rights to nationality . 3.    (Article 10-14)……….. 4.    (Article 15-16)outlines women’s right to equality  . TRANSGENDER These are people who have a gender identity or gender expression that differs from their assigned sex . Transexual are so referred when they desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another . In the year 2000 a clean 17 yrs ago a couple came to my private clinic . They requested me to come and see thier 3 children lined up on the bench of the waiting room outside my consultation room , they were very concerned and polite and pleading . I was pretty shocked at the site of the 3 babies  as they were literally naked except for a t-shirt they were wearing . .. one was a new born , the second was about  7 months old  and the 3rd was about a year plus ! The man whispered in my ears  “ please check their private parts” ? The kids had a normal penile growth as per the age but the testis were not clearly defined and there was indeed a vaginal passage underneath the penis !  I looked at their birth certificate and three of them were designated as  “ males “. We know from empirical evidence that “ biology  with its “ male “ and “ female”hormones , do not dictate gender identity .There are biological males and females who are  with the other gender . Along with biology is the genetics and epigenetics consideration : perhaps a set of genes contribute in whole or in part a “gender identity “. Genetics DETERMINE GENDER FROM A BIOCHEICAL PERSPECTIVE , BUT  I DON’T  KNOW of any evidence that suggests genetics determine “ gender identity “. Biology and attendant hormones do not  cause gender identity , even though hormones certainly shape the gender experience . Delusions of Gender IS PERSUASIVE AN AGUING THAT SOCIETY DRIVES THE PARAMETERS OF GENDER CONFORMITY  but does not examine the origin of  “ gender identity “ Social and Cultural rules do not dictate gender identity , even though society and culture druve conformity of gender behaviors. PSYCHOLOGY AND NEUROLGY MAY NOT BE VIEWED AS DETERMINANTS OF GENDER IDENTITY , EVEN THOUGH BOTH ARE USED AS FACTORS WHEN SOCIETY IMPOSE “RIGHTS AND WRONGS “ ABOUT GENDER IDENTITY . NOW LET ME BRING YOU BACK TO MY HOME FOR UNWED MOTHERS AND ABANDONED CHILDREN 6YRS AGO . The unwed mother was from an Orphanage . When she was 18 she was asked to leave the HOME with an address of her biological mother . Sadly when she went to her house she was told to leave because she was a happily married woman with 3 children and her husband is not aware that she has a child at the orphanage .She was left all alone not knowing where to go ….She lived with the first man who opted to help ….He left her when she told him she was pregnant She delivered a normal child and left the child in my home . Around six months later she came back with a another female who had also delivered a child secretly with some illegal foreigners much earlier  and left the child with them because her parents threw her out of the house on realizing she was pregnant . As they had no place to go to they requested they would like to stay at my home until they find their own place . I gave them permission to stay on and look after the baby . I was pretty shocked when I saw ( on cctv ) the older girl hugging  kissing the lips of the mother of the child ! She was also holding a cigarette and a bottle of beer ! The older girl found a job and the mother and child left the home . They were staying close by and they would visit me at the clinic for treatment and medications . This was a LESBIAN LIFE THEY WERE LEADING . Two years ago the young mother married a man and has delivered another child … while the other male personality lesbian found another female and living together . … smoking and drinking ! What we are seeing as “ gender identity “ are really products of biology, society, family, government, attitude ,psychiatric ,culture ACTING UPON the original conscious quality ,and assigning a moral value to a phenomenon  of  CHOICE : “ facing life to the best of your ability rather than suicide “ . LGBTQ community  is the  Western-born  aberation – a “ threat “ to national sovereignty . In India the LGBT community move from house to house where a child is born or return from hospital where they sing songs and play music and dance to entertain the mother and bless the new born . No one need inform them and yet they know! They are also noted to perform during weddings . I did see one wedding performance in Singapore about 10 yrs …..now they are a dying or dead breed . BUT in India they still perform . ADDRESSING GENDER DIMENSIONS IN LARGE –SCALE MOVEMENTS OF REFUGEES AND MIGRANTS Women migrant workers labor is often undervalued, underpaid and deskilled, due to gender stereotypes and discrimination. Ensuring that rights are protected throughout the migration process (across origin, transit ,and destination countries) and addressing root causes of forced movements is essential to empowering migrant women and girls .In the design, implementation, monitoring and evaluation of the new international framework on migration. States will benefit from hearing the voices of women and girls, and responding to their rights and specific needs to ensure that no one is left  behind . SEXUAL FIENDS 1.PAEDOPHILES They can be of any age . The children they attack are from toddlers to pre schoolers to teens . They can be any gender . Countries that practice this are the poor countries like Thailand, Nepal, India , Pakistan , etc . 2.Child Traffickers : 3.SURROGATE MOTHERS : This is legally done in India 4. ADOPTED CHILDREN :  There are many illegal children who do not possess a birth certificate . CHILDREN BORN OUT OF INCEST : These children also do not possess legal documents . ORPHANAGES : Whatever religion they belong to they are sent out of their homes at the age of 18yrs . Those who have relatives are given the address to search out for them , the rest end up with agents who literally end up in “black market “    CONCLUSION I will bring you back to my clinic and the Home for unwed mothers and abandoned babies . It is very tragic to receive a patient brought by the parents with a story that their daughter is pregnant and 1. her boy friend has disappeared .The police do not accept these cases because the couple lived together without getting a marriage licence . 2. The child born out of wedlock only carries the name of the biological mother . 3.The biological father is free and safe to marry any one the parents choose or even his choice . 4. In the case of rape the police are active  should the girl get pregnant  then “they” might agree to get them married avoiding all criminal charges .In my Home  after the child that is abandoned  turns 2 yrs the law allows me to  register the child as a Guardian .   This is what the GOVERNMENT should implement . 1.    The biological father’s  “name”  must be written in the birth certificate of the child . There is no necessity to get “nikah” ( married ) . The child should not be punished for life without the father’s name  ( Bastard ) . In the case of Rape and Crime the biological father who is imprisoned can still pay for the child’s Insurance and his name given as biological father .    2.     The biological father should be made to pay the Education and Savings Insurance and the unwed mother as  the beneficiary until the child turns 18 yrs . If the child is given up for adoption then the ADOPTIVE PARENTS MUST buy the insurance to continue higher studies . 3.    In the case of Gender issue , Parents need to  play an even bigger role . They should bring the child to a Psychiatrist and follow up until that age ( 18 yrs ) where parents notice that he /she is sexually prepared  and parents initiate a partner with honesty on the gender . In India parents even advertise “  Gay son needs a bride . contact mother … “ 4.    In the same way if the child is ADOPTED then the adoptive parents will need to do the same The government must allow them to Marry and Register their marriage . This clearly shows the magnanimity of the Government . After all they were created by GOD . They did not choose that gender on themselves . RESPECT THE CREATIONS OF GOD FOR THE GENDER IS BUT HUMAN . 5.    SAME SEX INDIVIDUALS who are recorded as such in their BIRTH CERTIFICATES  should be seen and followed up by doctors , psychiatrists and parents : should be allowed to get married .The Welfare department should be responsible to collect data and get such eligible educated responsible staff . 6.    Legal aid should be there for them . 7.    When there is gender identity and biological /social/culture influences and religion influences ,we don’t think twice about  ‘gender identity “ even as we may debate on the frameworks that society , culture and religion  have on gender roles/rules . 8.    It’s all a stunning reminder that in humanity’s darkest moments, the brightest lights can flicker into life           Sexual Revelations            : Can you see a naked portrait of a woman beyond the sexual revelations ? Can you enjoy a ballet performance beyond the sexual revelations ? Can you teach sex in the classroom without exciting or stimulating the young minds on sex as in fonography ? Young and old alike indulge in sex everyday with the strength they have . An 80 old male with a 37yr old female addict , there are real life reports on sex thirst described in local papers that have left leaders thirsting for more !         Are we ready for sexual education in the classroom ? Leave it the professional ? Who are the professionals ? Sex Education Professionals are those who go through workshops with their peers and youth to gain more and more knowledge . It’s a series of workshops and the experience gained . The moral decay in our society is due to attitudes of the elders . They refuse to understand the youth of today . Money is important . Without money you cannot persue higher studies . You cannot live a luxurious life . Marry well and live a comfortable future . At least you give a brighter prosperous life for your children . Familiar lines ?   2,346 words Author : Salina Abdullah... Read more

By Salina Abdullah in
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