Publishing Hotline: +60 3-2630 8352

Notion Press Singapore Short Story Contest 2017

Top Rated


Seven Deadly Sins
Published on 09-13-2017 10:37 PM

"Help."Learn More "Help."The girl with French braids stood before me, staring at me as if she could burn a hole through me. She had freckles all over her chubby cheeks, chapped lips and curious eyes. I took a step forward towards her and she flinched. Her small figure was shaking. "I'll help you. What's wrong?" I tried to sound nice, slowly approaching her. She blinked a few times in a short second. I had no idea what she was thinking. She seemed scared - the way she held her worn-out china doll told me so. "Little girl," I said, stooping so that my eye level was around hers, lips curling into a small smile. "Are you lost?" She nodded in a split second. Her small hands were still clutching the doll tightly, as if her life depended on it. "Where do you live?" Instead of answering, she tugged my wrist and pulled me along the street. Her short legs were incredibly fast for someone around her age that I had to tell her to slow down at times. After a few turns of right and left, she stopped. A rather big house that seemed kind of old appeared before me. I really had a bad feeling about this but I shrugged it off as the girl ran inside, pulling me together. The furniture was old but I couldn't examine the house quite well. The little girl brought me into a room at the end of the hallway, which was filled with dolls. She turned to me as she took a deep breath. She told me her name was Sylvie and she was twelve, and then she showed me her collection of decapitated china dolls. The dolls, especially the faces, crept the hell out of me. Their red lips grinned from ear-to-ear, eyes wide, staring right at me. Perhaps it was just my imagination. "Sylvie," I breathed, "where are your parents?" The little girl slowly smirked before pressing a small white button with her small index finger. Loud machine sounds suddenly rang in my two ears as a door at the corner of the dusty room opened wide. Sylvie told me to follow her as she sauntered towards the door. I sensed danger but curiosity took over me as my feet dragged me behind her, into the darkness behind the door.When the metallic smell of blood approached me, my head literally screamed, telling my body to run away before anything bad happened. My feet, however, couldn't stop. They just kept trailing behind Sylvie, deeper and deeper into the pitch of darkness. A glimpse of light finally appeared from afar and the petite short girl stopped her track. She then turned to me, saying, "be prepared." I sensed a hint of creepiness in her nasal voice but I shrugged it off. What could a small girl do to me? I was pulled into a dimmed room full of her another collection of decapitated large dolls. I assumed they were her favorites, from their expensive-looking clothes of Gucci and Chanel and some other Chinese brands I didn't know how to read. However, it hit me right in my chest that these were not just some large dolls with no heads. They seemed like real humans, only without heads. Oh God. My eyes then landed on an old wooden rack at the corner of the room. Twenty heads were arranged neatly on the rack, looking horrified as ever. Their eyes were widened in terror as if they reflected the horror they were facing before their last breath. Their lips were parted as if they were screaming in terror. Oh God."Come here, Rose," Sylvie said. I paused. My breathing hitched. My head was spinning.How did she know my name?I never told her.Oh God."Come here, Rose," she said again, louder this time. She instructed me to come closer to a tall grey metallic cupboard with two locked doors as she unlocked the left door. When she opened it, I was engulfed in terror. I blinked. I tried to suppress my inner scream as Sylvie said, "this is my father." His head was still attached to his body, but his lips were sewn to form a creepy smile. His eyeballs were hanging. On his forehead, the word 'GREED' was written with what it seemed like blood. "Father wanted to conquer everything, including this world, if he could. But it was funny though, how he was so greedy of the wealth that he abandoned his very own daughter." Her voice was laced with slight disappointment, eyes glued straight to her dead father.I took a good look at the girl before me. She was almost 4 feet tall, too small for a twelve-year-old girl."This," Sylvie said as she unlocked the other door, "is my mother." Different from her father, her mother's heart was ripped out and her hair was shaved, revealing some deep cuts. 'ENVY' on her wide forehead. I gulped."She is jealous of everyone," Sylvie spoke, keeping the door ajar as she moved to another tall cupboard. "Including me," she added, unlocking another door. "Wait," I told her, not wanting to look at another scary body. I needed a break for just a little while."Are you scared, Rose?" She whispered in my ears as I kneeled on the carpeted floor. Honestly speaking, I didn't like how my name sounded in her voice. She sent chills down my spine every time she called my name. It felt as if she was hinting that I would be next - dead, like the bodies I had seen."Why is your mother jealous of you?" I asked out of curiosity despite the goosebumps I had. Sylvie moved to stand before me and her lips formed a visible frown. "She said I had it all easy in my life, that I had all the love I needed and I would inherit my father's wealth." She almost broke into tears before she laughed out loud, exclaiming, "I killed her after that. She doesn't deserve to live, you know?!" Her deep eyes were turning red in an instant.It took her five long minutes to stop laughing and finally gained her sanity- or not. She revealed a body behind the third door. This time, it was a fat man with a stinky dead rat in his mouth, eyes stitched fully. I almost threw up at the sharp smell that entered my sensitive nose, but I held myself back. Pinching my nose with my fingers, I examined the man. He had 'GLUTTONY' on his forehead."Who is he?" I carefully asked, pointing to the dead body. Sylvie looked amusingly happy, saying that he was her neighbour. The problematic one, she added. "He ate a lot. And he was always drunk. It was awful to see him vomit in front of my gate every night after he came home from the nearby night club. I had to clean up his mess after that, which was annoying." Sylvie spat on him and added, "he vomited on me one night. It was a little too much. He needed to pay the price."Moving on to the next door, a horrified-looking dead male who was barely wearing anything appeared in front of me as Sylvie spoke, "I hated him the most. He was my cousin. He used to touch me a lot those days. I thought it was nothing- until he entered my room in the middle of the night. I sensed danger. So when he took off his clothes, I took away his life."I gulped. The man had no skin, only flesh. On his forehead, instead of written with blood, the word 'LUST' was carved with a very sharp knife, I supposed. "And this one is my maid," Sylvie told me, revealing a woman in her mid 40s with no arms nor legs. Both of her eyeballs were gone and her lips were stitched close. Somehow, the necklace attached to her seemed so familiar.Oh God.I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly out of anger, lips forming a straight line. My chest heaved. Oh God.I knew her.She was my mother. Or my ex-mother, as I would call her, because she dumped me at the orphanage when I was 10. She had 'SLOTH' written in dried blood on her wrinkled forehead. "Too lazy. Too slow. Too worthless." Sylvie turned to me with her right hand in her pocket. "Too bad she was your mother," she faked a chuckle. "What the hell is this all about?" My voice echoed in the four walls of the room. Sylvie giggled before she smirked at me slyly, whispering, "seven deadly sins." She then showed me an empty cupboard with two doors under the bulb. "The left one is mine. You can take the right one." Sylvie pulled out a sharp knife from her pocket, handing it to me. Her eyes stared right into mine and she stated, "I represent wrath. You represent pride." I took a step back."I- I don't- I don't understand," I breathed, mentally cursing myself for stuttering. Sylvie took two steps forward."You have the knife now. Do what you have to do," she said before she held the knife in my hand. Blood dripped from her palm as she said, "I am wrath because I have revenge on them. I am wrath because I was born this way." She tightened her grip on the knife. "You are pride because you are proud of who you are. You are proud to be a surgeon, to have a good-looking boyfriend by your side. But you are too proud to say that your boyfriend cheated on you. You don't want people to pity you. Tsk. You are just like the peacock. Full of pride."I could feel my cheeks burning up right that moment. It was too much information.How did she know?"Help me finish my collection of seven deadly sins! You promised you'll help!" she shouted, pulling the knife right into her heart. She fell backwards immediately, pool of blood surrounded her in no time. I gulped.What should I do?Slowly, I opened the left door of the empty cupboard. I sighed. Lifting the little girl, I put her into the small space. My index finger dipped into her blood and wrote 'WRATH' on her small forehead. Oh God.What had I done?How would I face the world after this incident?Would someone accuse me for killing all these people?Oh God.I looked around to find a mirror or anything that would allow me to see my reflection and to my luck, a broken mirror appeared before me. I took the biggest piece and looked at myself. I looked miserable as heck. Without thinking, I dipped my index finger into Sylvie's blood and wrote 'PRIDE' on my forehead. Then, I took out the knife from her chest before locking the door. What the hell was I doing?I stepped into the empty space on the right side of the cupboard and closed the door. It was pitch black now. I took a deep breath."Pride," was the last thing I said before I stabbed myself right in the chest.I was now free from my deadly sin.Goodbye, pride.... Read more

By Aida Sabrina in
Reader Points: 0
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 191
Views: 62
Here lies a story
Published on 09-13-2017 10:35 PM
I pulled the trigger of the gun within my hand. ‘Bang’ shouted the pistol. “Huh?” the sound of confusion slipped out of my mouth almost immediately as I try to comprehend what was happening in the midst of the skipping heartbeats and the fluttering butterflies in my stomach on this battlefield. Day 99 of 2034. Adam confessed to me and a split second after, my bulle...Learn MoreI pulled the trigger of the gun within my hand. ‘Bang’ shouted the pistol. “Huh?” the sound of confusion slipped out of my mouth almost immediately as I try to comprehend what was happening in the midst of the skipping heartbeats and the fluttering butterflies in my stomach on this battlefield. Day 99 of 2034. Adam confessed to me and a split second after, my bullet went through his left thigh. Even with the sirens wailing and the screams of innocent bystanders were deafening, I could hear absolutely nothing but the 3 words of love he uttered before plummeting back first towards earth. The police ran to the black haired, sun kissed lanky man and held him captive. He looked at me and mouthed ‘I will wait for you’  before he was dragged into the police vehicle. Sirens then dialed down as the swarm of black and white vehicles drove further away into the distance.  Ambulance came to the scene to attend all those who got injured during the massacre. “Good job today, Ree” congratulated one of my higher ups. “Just doing my duty, sir” I thanked him.  After an interview with the reporter and some small talks with the team, I headed home. “Yet another tragic massacre happened here at Melawati Boulevard. But rest assured, the man behind these killings, identified himself as Adam Laren, has been apprehended by the authorities” told the news reporter on the tv. I let out a sigh. “Mommy! Mommy! You’re home! You were on tv!” cried little Arnold, smiling ear to ear, behind him stood a broad shouldered, bearded man. “Welcome home pumpkins” he greeted. “It’s good to be home dad” I replied. “Hey, uh, may I talk to you in the kitchen, dear?” he asked, stuttering a bit and made his way to the kitchen without waiting for my answer. ‘At the age of 26 I still don’t get why he asks me a question and then decided for himself the answer’ chuckled my little heart, but followed my old man to the kitchen anyway. “So you put a bullet in him aye?” Damn. He never fails to just go straight to the point, does he? “He’s a wanted criminal. He deserves it” I replied, monotone. “He’s the person” he paused and put his right hand on his chest and continued “who makes your heart go wubwub faster” imitating the beating of the heart, he laughed half heartedly “and your thoughts; irrational” his mouth curved upwards and he let out a heavy sigh. “He is my ex-husband, dad. EX.” Suddenly I could feel my temperature burning up. My hand pulling out my pistol. Huh? What am I doing? I fired a bullet into the head of my father.  I knew at that moment - when the shot was fired - my son came running into the kitchen and screamed “Grandpa!” at the top of his lungs. But my ears were ringing, I fell down on my knees, my eyes wide opened. What have I done? Everything seems to be moving so slow, except the beating of my heart which was accelerating. The sight in front of me was horrid.  A little kid crying beside his grandfather, whose head owned a hole with thick red liquid surrounding it. “I HATE YOU MOMMY! I HATE YOU!” Arnold shrieked with tears streaming down his now red cheeks. *** What happened to Arnold yesterday? Flashbacks from yesterday played in my head as if it was a thriller film.  ‘I hate you mommy!’ I heard him shouted. My eyes darted for his figure. Suddenly he laughed and took a deep breath. “I thought I had to kill this old geezer; but you went ahead and did the dirty work for me. Thanks mommy” he grinned cynically before continuing laughing hysterically. “I’ll help you clean this mess, mommy.” “Wh… what do you mean baby?” I hesitated. “Don’t you love your grandpa?” I continued. “Love? Hah. I loathed him” he replied. The sound of fingers snapping brought me back to reality. The officer in front of me seemed rather unpleasant of my presence.  Day 100 of 2034. Today I was shipped off to Planet Arachnide 34, a planet for prisoners, specifically; killers.  “You are no different to your husband. And to think I looked up to you” she spouted.  I felt ashamed of myself. I couldn’t even lift my face up to see the officer. “Have fun being together with him here” she said in a sarcastic tone.  “wh.. what? He’s here? My ex husband is here?” I asked, surprised. “Listen, officer, I cannot be here. With all due respect, I cannot be here, officer” I begged, clinging onto her collars.  “With all due respect, prisoner, show some.” The officer pushed away my hands and dragged me into the center court where all other inmates placed soul-killing gaze upon me. Most of these inmates are the ones I have put them to justice. It’s going to be a problem for me now. I let out a heavy sigh. “This is your new ‘humble abode’” she said air quoting the word that meant home. With that, she left me with the other inmates. As I awkwardly walk to the cafeteria ‘lady’ – if it was a female – I could feel the gazes of the prisoners on me all the way across. Suddenly a tall guy with a built body size advanced towards me, he pulled me into a chokehold.  “Fancy seeing you here officer Ree” He whispered in a deep voice. I felt so helpless and powerless. I couldn’t ask for help because there was none. In the year 2030, the officials have decided that Planet Arachnide 34 is free from any person who have not commit any type of crime. Even the officers who were stationed here were brought back to Earth II when the statement was announced. This planet is truly a place only for criminals.  The officer who sent me here was already in the spaceship to go back to Earth II. His hysterical laugh dragged me back to where I was. His arm felt way more muscular than the last time he held me I thought to myself. Here I am, and standing behind me was the person I once loved. Adam Laren. “Keep your mouth shut and follow along if you want to live” he continued.  Adam dragged me out of the centre court through the back door. While still in his chokehold, I tried to jab him with my elbow as hard as I could. “Hey you didn’t have to do that. I was already going to let you go” he chuckled casually. “YOU HAD ME AT A CHOKEHOLD” I screamed at him. “And what the hell do you want from me?!” I could not stop my heart from racing and aching at the same time. ‘he makes your heart go wubwub faster and your thoughts; irrational’ dad’s voice echoed in my thoughts. Unexpectedly, I finally realized that I have tried to choke Adam almost to death. The other inmates came rushing to the scene and pulled me away. I… I couldn’t control myself I thought to myself. “Oi! What did ya think ya was tryna do to Adam?” asked an orange haired guy in a southern accent. “My oh my, he was trying to save your life and this is what you do to him?” blurted a woman maybe in her 30s. Question upon question were asked and all of them left me puzzled. They are... nice?  A little voice inside my head spoke. Adam let out a heavy sigh and dusted his shirt. “Chill guys, she is just under a temporary spell” he took a deep breath “just like I was”. That night Adam brought me to a room and explained everything to me. From how he had no control over his body for all the killings to why the inmates didn’t attack me earlier on  until how he knew I would be sent here too. “Are you serious right now?” I asked, shocked to hear the lies he spouted right in front of me. “Look, I know it is hard to believe. But your dad is behind all of this. I swear.” He raised his right arm shoulder height. “I WAS SENT HERE BECAUSE I KILLED HIM, ADAM. I KILLED HIM” my vision blurry as tears started to find its way out. “That is what he wanted you to believe. Think of it Ree. He is the person in charge of Earth II. He wanted to have his ‘utopia’ by eradicating those who question his authority. Thus, the existence of Arachnide 34. You questioned him when he ordered us to divorce” Adam explained. “Look, Reeneé, we have a plan. A plan to save all of us here and the citizens there” interrupted a woman with dark skin and white hair and blue streaks. “Wait. He ordered us to divorce?” I questioned. “HE ORDERED US TO DIVORCE?! THE DIVORCE WAS ALL ON YOU, ADAM. YOU DIDN’T THINK YOU HAD WHAT IT TAKES  TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILD. So you left. Without leaving anything behind. Not even a goodbye” I could feel anger seeping into my veins.  “I was under your dad’s spell. Goddammit! I couldn’t do anything, Ree” I could see he was struggling to find the right words to say “I couldn’t control my mind. But you won’t believe me would you?!” He shouted. The woman with white hair and blue streaks gave Adam a file. “You want proof. Well here is your proof Ree” he threw the file to me and exposed pictures of my dad dealing with the criminals I once apprehended. One picture stood out from the others. A picture of Adam and dad. In dad’s hand, a book of dark spells. The same one in our living room; the one dad says to never touch. Adam was held down by someone in the picture. A little boy. It couldn’t be, but it is. It’s my son! My eyes widen in horror. “Ree. I love you and forever will. Join me to eliminate this evil” Adam invited, holding out a hand. ... Read more
By Nizua Inas Alysha in
Reader Points: 360
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 159
Views: 1656
The Sacred Waters...
Published on 09-13-2017 08:32 AM

                                   THE SACRED WATERS…

By Thanaletchumi RAMAYAH in
Reader Points: 200
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 307
Views: 934
Punished or Dead?
Published on 09-13-2017 03:05 AM
"Is that a smudge of blood on the ground?" asked Bella. "Shall we take a closer look?" she added. "No, Bella! Just stop. Haven't you heard, curiosity killed the cat? We better walk back home quick before anything or anyone follow us," I warned her with a stern voice. "Anything or anyone? Like what? Zombies from The Walking Dead? Aliens from the outer space? Or a serial killer on the loose? You are...Learn More"Is that a smudge of blood on the ground?" asked Bella. "Shall we take a closer look?" she added. "No, Bella! Just stop. Haven't you heard, curiosity killed the cat? We better walk back home quick before anything or anyone follow us," I warned her with a stern voice. "Anything or anyone? Like what? Zombies from The Walking Dead? Aliens from the outer space? Or a serial killer on the loose? You are so silly, Ave!" Bella joked with a cynical tone. I know how adventurous Bella is but it is half past 12 midnight now and we didn't manage to get any taxi to reach Perdana Lagoon, our apartment near Sunway . Being a thrill seeker, Bella suggested that we should walk home after having our dinner at the Vegan Freak Restaurant. To be frank, I disliked the idea but to my dismay, we couldn't manage to get any public transportation whatsoever. Looking at the blood stain at the pavement, Bella refused to walk away. She was adamant and nonsensical. She believed that it was human blood and literally dragged me by my long sleeved blouse to have a closer look. "Please stop, Bella. If you want to see it closer, go ahead. Let me go!" I screamed. It was very dark with no moon in the night's sky and one of the street lights was flickering which scared this scaredy-cat even more. Standing 10 centimeters away from the blood stain, Bella knelt down and touched the crimson liquid and slowly let go of her hand from my sleeves. I took a few steps back as I found her action to be revolting. "It feels like blood and I could smell the iron properties in it. Something bad has happened here, Ave. Maybe there is a dead body around," Bella looked at me while uttering those words.  She has always been a curious girl since she was small. We knew each other since we were 5 years old.  We lived in a neighbourhood called Taman Rishah in Ipoh and have been best friends for the past 18 years. Now, we are residing at an apartment near Sunway, Selangor to pursue our undergraduate studies at a local private university. This night seemed like a normal night except for the part that, suddenly there was zero public transportation in the neighbourhood, which is practically impossible. Sunway has always been a busy town, be it day or night. But this night, it was different from the other nights; something was fishy, something felt so wrong. Being a little imtimidated by the current situation, I looked at Bella. She was still looking at me for a response; a response which never reached my mind. She was expecting me to react but I was dumbfound. I started shivering. My eyes widened. My jaw dropped. Bella kept asking, "What happened to you? Are you okay?" I couldn't respond. I was distressed. Why? Because there was a dark figure standing right behind Bella , with its hands wide open. Bella didn't see it as she was busy looking at my lips for an answer. My mind went blank. All I wanted to do was to grab Bella's arms and run as fast as I could but my legs were sort of glued to the ground. The figure was inches away from Bella and suddenly, all the street lights went off, all at the very same time! It was pitch black and I heard, "Ave! Ave! Someone is dragging me!! Help!" It was Bella's voice; full of terror and agony. "Oh, God, No! No, please help! Help!" I screamed franticly for help. I ran all over the street. The darkness made me clueless. I could hear the heavy breath of Bella but she was no longer talking or screaming. "Bella! Talk to me! Bella! I'm scared! Oh, god, please!" I yelled! No one was there. No one came to help. All of a sudden, the tall street lights came back on. The one flickering light was no longer flickering at all. The street was in dead silent. Bella was nowhere to be found. No more sound of weeping, no more sound of heavy deep breaths and NO MORE BELLA!  I was in the heat of the moment. This whole scenario stupefied me. I pinched myself to check whether it was a dream and the pinch felt extremely real & painful. I thought to myself, "This is the moment of truth." I realised something terrible has happened to Bella. I promised to myself that I would never leave her alone in this dark streets with that dark, scary figure. "What should I do? I am so scared!"  I couldn't move a muscle. I could feel the chills deep in my bones. I looked for my mobile phone in the front pocket of my new, blue jeans but it was missing. I looked on the road, at the pavement, everywhere but the phone was mysteriously missing from my sight. As I turned around, in the blink of an eye, the dark figure stood right next to me. This time, its face was crystal clearly visible to my dark brown eyes. It was not human at all. Its cold soul less eyes stared right into mine and that was it! Without a second thought, I ran and ran and ran and, "Thud!" I fell, on a pool of sticky, dark fluid, right next to a body. A human body! A human dead body! Bella's DEAD BODY! I wept and tried to get back up but I keep falling on the ground because it was very slippery. I could hear the heavy footsteps of the dark figure approaching me. At that moment, I knew that this is the last moment of my life; last scary moment. Who could have thought that a silent Tuesday night will end up being a night full of horror and panic. "Bella, if you could just mind your own business and let sleeping dogs lie, we both would have been alive for the next day," I thought to myself as I was still trying to get up from the pool of blood. From all the unsuccessful escape attempts and scary thoughts to myself, I didn't realise that the dark figure was already there, just right beside me. And then, "Bang!" "You are sleeping in my class again?! How dare you?!" I heard a loud, annoying, shrieking voice. My head was aching and I could here many laughing voices. "Get up and go and wash your face now!!" The voice was louder and clearer now. As I look up, there she was, standing tall and in anger, my History teacher, Miss Mia. Sitting right next to me, Bella looked at me in shock.  She whispered, "I tried waking you up a few times but you didn't bother at all. I even pinched you but you were sleeping like a dead body". Seeing her alive and talking thrilled me. I, on the other hand, smiled; I jumped in joy. "You're alive, Bella! I am alive!" I screamed. I was in seventh heaven, at least for that very moment. The next thing I know, I was the laugh of the school for the next one week because Miss Mia made me wear a lanyard with a big card which says, "I will never ever sleep during History lessons". It was quite an embarassing one week for me. I blushed crimson with mortification most of the time but still, I was glad that Miss Mia woke me up at the right time. Being punished is way better than being dead, I guess.... Read more
By Avene Raj in
Reader Points: 220
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 306
Views: 633
Published on 09-12-2017 12:46 PM

Faster and faster Victor ran, but in the vacuum of darkness there seemed to be no end.

Victor Lee began to panic....Learn MoreFaster and faster Victor ran, but in the vacuum of darkness there seemed to be no end. Victor Lee began to panic. In the black nothingness, there was no direction, no guidance. For what felt like forever, he was groping in the darkness, not knowing where he was. He was even beginning to doubt who he was. With his hands and feet, he had tried reaching out for something—anything. But there was nothing. Not a single hint of a solid object that he could use as a guide or at least just a hope that there was something in the vast emptiness. Not a wall within reach, not a table to bump into, not a person, not an entity—nothing at all. There was only him and him alone. It was the shadows. The shadows had engulfed him. He was trapped in a chasm, and there was no escape. “Please! Let me out! Abra! Kadabra! ANYBODY!” There was nobody. His chest tightened. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. It was just a dream. He knew it was just a dream. Even after the stupid wish, he should be able to wake if he wanted to. He willed the blackness away, but nothing happened. The reality that was his and only his would not leave. Victor Lee was desperate. Why was it that the boy, whose name sounded so much like victory, had never tasted victory? Even his own dream dominated him. If he was so pathetic, what was the point of anything? “Abra! Pleaaassse! Help!” He pleaded, conjuring images of the benevolent little guy with blonde moustache that extended down to his chest. But the dwarf that he came to love gave no answer. Then he called for Abra’s old wise sidekick. “Kadabra!” As he feared, Kadabra the bald old man would not come to his aid either. Kadabra used to come to him in his cosy little hut holding a silver spoon in his left hand. It might have been because of his childhood obsession with Pokémon that his dreamt-up friend was called Kadabra and held a spoon. Victor did not ponder the details; he was just glad of the company—the company of people who were always there for him when he needed them. Except now. Where were they when he needed them most? Even Munchies the rabbit and Serene the butterfly were unavailable. He had tried reaching out to them with his mind like he always did, but there was no answer. He was all alone, lost in an infinite emptiness. How could it be? This world was so promising—so safe, so perfect. It was a dream come true; he was living his dream—literally.  It was a haven, his haven. Why did it turn against him? Where did it go wrong? On his first visit, years ago, there was only a small, barely furnished hut in a desolated forest clearing. The days were bearable enough—it would be warm and not too sunny and he would spend it going for a walk or fishing. The nights were cold and uncomfortable. Whenever he started shivering, he would tell himself it was just a dream and then he would wake. As the visits became more frequent, the hut evolved. Each time, more furniture would appear, and he loved every one of them. Miraculously, they were exactly what he would have chosen. If he were told to picture his dream home, it would look precisely like what the hut became. Then came a time when the hut changed no more. It was perfect, just the way he wanted it. The kitchen was always fully stocked, there was a bookshelf with his favourite books, and neatly chopped firewood was always piled up at the back, ready for him to use in the evening. Sometimes he would just lie on his bed. He loved the bed. It was soft and cosy, with a simple blue duvet, and his favourite childhood toy—a Mickey Mouse that he lost at least a decade ago—always sitting at the edge, waiting for him. The weekly visits turned into nightly visits. Without fail, he would dream of his lovely hut the moment he dozed off. During the weekends, he would take nap after nap, just to live in his dream. He spent more and more time there. It was a welcomed escape, because he hated his rented apartment. And because whenever he was awake, he had to deal with his demanding, overpowering girlfriend; a chaotic, pointless, low paying job; and parents who would not talk about anything but marriage. He was approaching 30, and they wanted him to settle down with the high-flying Su Li as soon as possible. But the only place he wanted to settle in was his hut. Over months, Victor managed to build a garden behind his hut. Butterflies and bees started to drop by. There was one butterfly, he noticed, that was bigger and brighter than the rest. It was a striking Monarch butterfly, with brilliant orange wings. And it was always there. One day, it landed on Victor’s hand. Gently, he stroked its wings. “Hi, beautiful,” he whispered absentmindedly. That was when he first heard her voice, soft and smooth and clear. “Hi!” It echoed in his head, and it was so beautiful he wanted never wanted it to stop. “Is that you, darling?” “Of course it is,” the butterfly responded almost immediately. She was Serene, she told him. Serene was here because she knew he needed company. “I would be here with you for the rest of your days, if you wish,” she spoke into his mind. “Of course,” he replied. “I would love that.” He really did. Victor did not realise how lonely he was in the hut until then. Munchies the rabbit came a few days later. He communicated psychically too, but in a deep, manly voice. Victor offered him some carrots, but Munchies refused and wanted to have tea with him instead. Victor soon found out that he preferred a human’s diet—which was great, because he would have someone to dine with. A few days later, Abra, and Kadabra turned up together. They were waiting for him at his doorstep and he invited them in for tea. With their arrival, his dream-world was complete. For a few years, Victor enjoyed their time together. They would go hiking, swim in rivers and waterfalls deep in the forest or just stay in the hut. When they got bored of having only a garden to tend to, they built a farm. Slowly, the farm grew and soon, there were dozens of chickens, cows, sheep, goats and horses to tend to. Sometimes, they would spend their evenings riding the horses and when it gets dark, they would retreat into the hut to have dinner. Before bed, they would read, play games or watch strange television programmes that Victor could never remember. Munchies would join them if he was not sleeping. Often, Serene would observe them silently, ever present, like a guardian angel. Once in a while, a third person—an enigmatic character who claimed to be a wizard and was able to grant any wishes—would make an appearance. He called himself Alakazam. Alakazam was a tall, slender man with a silver spoon in each hand and bore an uncanny resemblance to Kadabra. He was a man of few words, and when words did escape his thin, almost non-existent lips, it was to encourage Victor to make a wish. Sometimes, he would linger and watch them from a distant; sometimes he would just make a statement and depart. In each dream, a few days or only a few hours may play out. On rare occasions, a month may go by in one dream, and Victor would wake up feeling as if he had just gone on a long vacation. But no matter how much time had passed in dream-world, he was always reluctant to return to reality. He loved his perfect little dream-world. He never wanted to leave. Victor slept more than ever, and the people around him started to notice. His parents branded him lazy, Su Li labelled him useless and his one and only good friend mocked his asocial tendency. Then one day, without warning, Su Li left him. She only sent him a short text telling him that it was over and then emailed him a long list of reasons why she knew it was the right decision, ending with ‘you’re not good enough, and never will be’. Instead of talking it over with him, she had sent him an email, as if he was just one of her clients. For days, he tried reaching her, calling her over and over again, hoping to speak to her, hoping to change her mind, but she never answered. A week later, he was fired for a mistake he never made, but he had no say. He never did. And so, Victor had all the time in the world to dream. Most of his days were spent sleeping, dreaming of the world he knew so well. As reality shunned him, his dream embraced him with open arms. Every time he reached his hut, Abra and Kadabra would be standing at the front door, welcoming him, and tea was always waiting for him in the kitchen. It was the perfect life—he had a supportive friend in Abra, always ready to listen and comfort and motivate. Then there was Kadabra, caring and wise. He would be the one to look after the hut when Victor was awake, and was the one who planned their daily routine when Victor was around. Everything was great—except that he had to wake. In the end, it was just a dream. Even when he was there, enjoying life in his precious little hut, he knew. Each morning, he would arise, empty and defeated. Victor wanted to be there, always. It was a world where he could make things happen. It was a world where he could taste the sweetness of victory. There, he was king; there, he was everything. But when he discussed his wishes with Abra and Kadabra, they unexpectedly disapproved. Their faces darkened, and they warned him against it. “We love you, but this is not where you’re meant to be,” Abra said without a hint of his usual optimism. “It’s not right, and it’s dangerous,” the little man added. “You don’t know what it’s really like,” Kadabra admonished. Serene remained indifferent. “This is your dream, after all,” she told him. Munchies was the only one enthusiastic about his plan. Victor fed him well, and he loved Victor for it. Despite the objections, Victor carried on with his intention. The next time Alakazam dropped by, he made a wish. “I wish I could live here forever and never wake,” he told the wizard. Alakazam nodded, did some dance with his spoons, and just like that, Victor’s wish was granted. He never woke. Abra and Kadabra soon forgotten about their dissent, and for many days, Victor lived happily in the hut without any interruptions from reality. Days were spent gardening, hiking, farming and tending to the hut. The garden thrived, with flowers of all kinds blossoming, painting a lovely mix of colours. The farm expanded as the animals began breeding. Everything seemed to work out. But amidst the peace and tranquillity, dark, menacing, shadows lurked. They were there, and had always been there, waiting for their time to come. Those dark creatures had been dormant for far too long. Lately, Abra noticed their activity had increased, and one of them actually took the trouble to attack him. It was an aggressive thing, and it almost succeeded. He was alive for now, but he knew the shadows would destroy everything soon. Abra and Kadabra had always known what the shadows were, just as they had always known what they themselves were. They knew, but Victor—creator of the dream, creator of them—did not. And so, Victor spent many blissful days in his own dream, oblivious to the threats that await them. Until one day, he saw them. Two dark, formless shadows casually made their way to the stable and with a forceful lurch they pounced on one of the horses and swallowed it. Nothing of the horse remained. Terrified, Victor ran inside the hut, slammed the door shut, and proceeded to lock all windows. Abra and Kadabra, who were in the kitchen, listened to him calmly before revealing the truth. “Everything here will be gone one day. It has already outlived the average lifespan of a dream-world. The shadows will do their job anytime now,” Kadabra explained. Victor was horrified and brooded for the rest of the day. In the evening, the shadows took half of their garden. He finally decided to accept his fate. Even in his own dream, he could not win. He had to leave—it was imminent. The next few days were spent hunting for Alakazam, but no matter how much they called for him and how fervently Victor willed him to appear, there was no Alakazam. How was he going to return to reality? While he contemplated that question, a group of shadows emerged from the ceiling of the hut and within seconds, he was consumed by their darkness. He tried running, walking, touching, jumping and practically everything he could think of, but there was only infinite blackness—nothing else. He screamed and screamed for help but no one heard him. Maybe there was no one to scream to. Maybe his precious world was no more. Victor steeled himself. If he was still there—still moving, still breathing, still existing—there was hope. He would not be eaten by his own dream. Alakazam was his creation. He himself enabled Alakazam to grant wishes. All he had to do was believe otherwise. Earlier, he had willed the darkness away, all the while still believing in Alakazam’s power. Now, he told himself that Alakazam was just an old man, incapable of granting wishes. He repeated this thought to himself until he lost memory of the wizard’s power. There was no Alakazam the wizard, only a queer man with spoons. This was his dream, and he could leave if he wanted to. All of a sudden, he felt a jolt, and the blackness brightened to deep orange. Whispers could be heard. He realised he was awake. Then, for the first time in weeks, Victor opened his eyes. The black emptiness was gone, replaced with pure whiteness. His lips curved into a triumphant smile. He knew he had conquered his dream. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, a face came into focus. It was a man in a white coat, staring down at him. “Victor? Can you hear me?”  “Viiic…torrr…eee,” Victor Lee murmured.  ... Read more

By Chin Siew Teng in
Reader Points: 630
Editor Points: 33000
Rank: 204
Views: 1765
the strange red shoes
Published on 09-12-2017 10:10 AM
THE STRANGE RED SHOES Written by Marina Bansing Amora went to school early that morning. As usual she woke up and prepare for her breakfast. Amora live with Aunt Julia in the house. Her parent went out at overseas to do some important business trip at the pearl island. Amora is 15 years old now. She loves to drawing and singing very well too. She has long blonde hair and red pink lips. In the sch...Learn MoreTHE STRANGE RED SHOES Written by Marina Bansing Amora went to school early that morning. As usual she woke up and prepare for her breakfast. Amora live with Aunt Julia in the house. Her parent went out at overseas to do some important business trip at the pearl island. Amora is 15 years old now. She loves to drawing and singing very well too. She has long blonde hair and red pink lips. In the school she was also top student of form three sakura.  At the bus stop, Amora saw something strange. She was a little bit curious because she saw the small box lying under the buses. She walks near to the box and take it slowly. She tries to open it but it was stuck inside.  “ I wonder what inside this things “ she said slowly. At the same time the school bus arrived and quickly she put the box inside her school bag. Amora walks fast and she gets in the school bus and sits at the back. Her friend, Nora asked her. “What are you doing there? “ “What do you mean? “Amora asked. Nora smile.  “ I saw you took something from the ground. Tell me what is it? “ Amora didn’t say a thing.  “ ahh… its nothing. I swear. It’s just a piece of paper “  Nora didn’t ask anymore so she remains silent.  The school bus arrived exactly around 7.00 am. Amora get down from the bus and she went to her class.  At the mean time, before the school bell rang, amora went at the back of the school building. She picks up the box from her bag and she tried to open it again. A few minutes later, at last the box was open! She opens the box slowly and she was very surprises when she saw a pair of red shoes in it.  “This shoe is very beautiful. I wonder who is the owner “ She said. She lifts up the shoes and she trying it on. Amora feel very happy and she jump and dancing by using the red shoes. At the moment later, she didn’t remember where she was. As she dancing and turning around, she was shocked the she was not in the school anymore. Her school dress also has change. It was a yellow dress and she was like a princess!  “Where am I? “She said. Suddenly a white rabbit come to her. Amora was very shock when the rabbit spoke to her. “Come on, Over here! “ He said. Amora and the rabbit went to the sea. The sea was so beautiful that she never seen before. The rabbit asked amora to wait for the moment.  “ What are we waiting for in here? “ Amora asked. The rabbit didn’t answer her. He just stood still.  At the moment later, there was a very huge wave coming.  Amora wanted to run away but the rabbit hold her hand. “Don’t be afraid. Trust me “ He said. Amora keep quite. Both of them keep on waiting. A minute later, Amora saw a big turtle.  “ What a very big turtle! “ Amora said.  “ Follow me “ said the rabbit. Amora didn’t refuse and keep following the strange rabbit. When they at the turtle shell, it opened it slowly. It’s almost like a big door.   When Amora and the rabbit inside the turtle shell, Amora then feel more surprises again. The rabbit show everything to Amora. “ Welcome to the turtle island “  “ Turtle Island? “ Amora asked. The rabbit nodded.  “ Who live here? “ Amora asked again.  “ Everybody live here “  “ What do you mean by everybody? “  “ Look over there! “ Amora look at the tiny village. She was almost didn’t remember that she was inside the turtle shell. This place was very big.  Amora went to the tiny house and she sit near to it. At the moment later, a tiny people came out from the house. When he looks at her he was very happy. “ You came at last! “  Amora didn’t notice it until the rabbit said that she was needed to stay at the turtle island.  “ The tiny people here were called ‘The Smamash’ “ “ The Smamash? “  “ Yes. The Smamash. They have live here more than 100 years “  The rabbit explained. Amora nodded. The rabbit show all over the place until they rest at the top of the hill.  “ Are you tired? “ said the rabbit. “ No. why? “  “Good. Soon we will meet the prince “ “ The prince? What prince? “ Amora asked. “ You must help the prince, Amora “ the rabbit said slowly. Amora looked at the rabbit.  “What happen? “ Amora said. On by one the rabbit explained everything to Amora.  “ You are saying that the prince was sick? “ “ Yes, quite sick. He needs help from the outside world. So he asked me to send the shoes “  “ What shoes “  “ The shoes that you are wearing right now. Who ever found and wear it, the it must the right person prepare to help our prince “ “ What can I do? “ “ You will know it soon “ “ I am a bit sleepy. Can I have a short nap? “ “ You go on, I will wake you up when all ready “ Amora lying down and she sleep quietly.  “ AMORA, WAKE UP! “  Amora open her eyes. She looks everywhere. She was now in a garden full of blossom flowers. Amora stand and trying to find where the voice coming from. Amora walks slowly. “ Is that you, rabbit? “ Asked Amora. Amora keep on walking until she found a big house. It was dark.  “ What is this place “ Amora whispered.  Suddenly the rabbit come to her with wide smile. “ You came at last “ “ How did I come here? The last thing I remember that we were inside the turtle shell. Where am I now? “  “ Stop questioning Amora, the important thing now, you must help the prince. He is waiting for you at the house. Go inside and go to the red door. Don’t open if it’s not red door. “ “ You are not coming? “ Amora said. The rabbit didn’t answer it. “ No. You have to go alone. Good luck “ Amora come to the front door. The door opened slowly. Amore went in. She walks slowly too. It was a beautiful place but no one in the house. Amora saw a door. Each of the doors was painted in color. Amora looked the color of the door one by one. Blue door, yellow door, black door, green door, and at last she saw the red door. She went through the door and the last door she stand still. She knocked the door and the door opened slowly. Amora went in. She saw a big bed.  “ Hello… “ said Amora. “ Come here “  said a voice. A young voice. Amora come to the bed and she saw a young boy. The young boy smiled in joy. He was crying happy. He holds Amora hand and said, “ I know you are coming “    Amora sit near the boy. “ Are you a prince? “ Amora asked.  “ Yes, I am “  “ What is your name? “ “ Call me Minolta “ “ Prince Minolta? “  The boy nodded.  “ The rabbit told me that you need help. What kind of help do you need? “ Asked Amora. Prince Milonta didn’t say a thing at first.  “ Did he told you about me? “ “ He just told me that you are sick and need my help. You send this red shoes and who ever wears it must come ….. “ Amora stopped. She remembered something weird. “ Why are you stop? Is something wrong? “ “ Are you really sick Prince Minolta? “ “ Why you asked like that? “  “ Tell me what you want me to help? You said that you were sick but when I saw you, you look healthy “ “ You don’t trust me? “ asked the Prince. His face turned red. Amora were realizing that the Prince already getting mad.  “ You don’t trust me, are you? “ he asked again. Amora became afraid. She ran towards the door. But it couldn’t be opened. It’s stuck from the outside. Amora screamed. “ HELP!! “  She turn back and she was very scared because the boy became bigger and bigger.  “ What are you! “ Amora asked to the prince. Prince Minolta laughs.  “ You took my things and you must repay be back! “ he said.  “ What things? “ “ Don’t be a fool! That shoes that you stole! “ “ I wasn’t stole it, I found it! “  “ No, you’re wrong! Whoever stole my shoes I shall eat it alive! “    Amora began to smash the door. But she could not do that. The door was too hard to open.  “ Don’t run away, Amora. Stay with me and I will give you anything you want “ Prince Minolta began to stand and he moving closer to her. Amora run again from the door. Then she saw the window.  She must think fast.  “ Don’t run away from me! You are mine now!!! “ said the Prince. Amora did not hear anything. She began to run towards the window and she smashed it with her own body. She fell down to the ground. “ ouch! “ she screamed. She tries to stand up and she ran away from the house. “ Don’t run away!! “ said the giant prince. He also goes out.  Now he is 12 feet tall and he trying to catch Amora. Amora run as fast as she could. Her heart beat fast. She was very afraid if the giant prince is going to eat her alive! Amora went to the forest. She keeps on running until she meet the rabbit. “ What happen? “ says the rabbit. “ You said he was a prince! “ said Amora angrily.  “ He indeed a prince! “ “ He a giant prince!! And he was going to eat me! “ Amora said. She began to continue running when she heard her name were called from the giant prince! “ Please help me! How can I return back to my world! I need to get back now before the giant prince eats me! “ Amora keep on begging the rabbit. The rabbit feels pity and at last he said, “ Open the red shoes and give it to me. Then, you have to go the highest cliff and jumps from there to the sea. Do it now! “ “ If I jump from the cliff, I will be dead! “  “ You said you want to go back, right? You have to trust me. Now, go!! “ Amora took off the red shoes and she keep on running away until she saw the highest cliff and she start to jump before the giant prince catch her.  Amora still can hear the giant prince screamed. “ NOOOOOO…..!!!! “  Amora closed her eyes and she doesn’t remember anything again. “ AMORA, WAKE UP! “  Amora open her eyes widely, and she saw Nora in front of her. “ why are you lying in here, the school bell are ringing now!  Come on! “  Amora see her bare feet. The strange red shoes were gone now. Amora and Nora went to the class. That’s was a nightmare to Amora if she saw the strange red shoes again.  ... Read more
By marina bansing in
Reader Points: 20
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 322
Views: 102
48 Hour Miracle
Published on 09-11-2017 08:49 PM


Read more

Reader Points: 610
Editor Points: 21000
Rank: 371
Views: 1709
A Reason To Stay.
Published on 09-11-2017 01:19 PM

The sound of a music box filled the air. Placed in an ill-lighted room, the seemingly innocuous box was a burst of colour, with delicate pink roses and crawling vines etched onto its porcelain sides. The box sat upon a quartz pill...Learn MoreThe sound of a music box filled the air. Placed in an ill-lighted room, the seemingly innocuous box was a burst of colour, with delicate pink roses and crawling vines etched onto its porcelain sides. The box sat upon a quartz pillar, surrounded by a pool of effervescent water. The hypnotic tune it played enchanted those who were cursed to hear it. It whispered a pleasant, though oddly chilling, series of notes, a symphony expertly designed to draw in its victims, capture and eliminate. Click, clack, click, clack. Footsteps echoing from a nearby hallway cautiously approached the room, the owner holding a torch that was already close to burning out.  The music box jumped and whirred, excited for the chance of a delicious dinner. Click. The music became louder, the song full of glee, Clack. "So close, so close was she!" the music box sang in beautiful music that came to a magnificent crescendo- The music stopped. It seemed that unfortunately for the music box, Lady Grythanos was wearing ear plugs. With a triumphant smile, the music box was plucked off the pillar and tucked safely away in the Lady’s leather pouch. - I could hear the sound of the curtains being enthusiastically grabbed and pulled to the side. It was an effort to allow the soft light kiss my eyes awake I suppose. Alas, I was no longer in the dystopian world that I had built from rubble. Instead, I was brought back to reality with the blazing sun urging me to shake off my blanket of protection. Not at all the welcome I had hoped for. Clothes were scaterred helter-skelter around the room. As usual. I created these worlds. In my head. I dream of them every single night, hoping to become Elleanore. Elleanore was not real but she embodied everything I aspired to be. The epitome of perfection. My throat felt dry. I reached for the glass of water on my bedside table next to the bottle of prescription pills. But seeing as I was ever so clumsy, that simple action caused the glass to fall to the carpeted ground. It was my fault really. I should not have tried to take it whilst buried under a mountain of pillows. Thankfully it did not break. So I turned in my bed, facing the ceiling. Here, I was not Elleanore Grythanos, not your dedicated and dependable Lady ready to save the realm from evil forces. I could not capture targets like the seducing music box, I was not at all the confident, strong woman. I was awkwardly quiet instead. Of course I had friends, but only one was someone I could talk to on a daily basis. Lady Grythanos killed those who deserved to be brought to justice. I on the other hand, have only tried to kill myself. Emotional and full of angst, I know. The worlds distracted me from my anxiety and my urge to self harm. I hated myself. Even more so, I hated that I hated myself. It was an odd paradox that often consumed me whole, leaving me awake at night with threatening thoughts and a blade. The worlds I make were an escape from the terrifying reality I had to face. I let out a sigh. I did not enjoy these thoughts. Nor do I find joy in sharing them as some people might assume. They would all just think I crave attention or don’t receive enough love or care.  But it wasn’t that. I had a family that loved me. And for my family, I had to at least try. And I do try, every day. I reluctantly forced myself to leave the comfort of bed and went through my daily routine. I ate my breakfast of cold and soggy cereal alone. Alone mostly because my brother who had opened the curtains in my room earlier had already went to work, also because I preferred eating alone anyway. I think. After wiping my mouth with some tissue rather uncouthly, I took my empty bowl and put it in the sink, letting the water flow and trickle down. "I’ll wash it later," I thought with a lazy shrug, turning the knob to stop the stream. I turned around to see my backpack leaned against the white dining chair. My backpack was unique to say the least, for it was a slightly translucent, cyan blue with golden stars. It attracted people in ways that were both good and bad. I threw it over one shoulder and ventured out the door. It wasn’t a breathtaking day outside, nor was it an awful one. It was average.  I walked down the paved sidewalk, grateful for the trees that stood high and mighty, forming a canopy. Not that it was hot or anything, I just preferred the serene shade over working up a sweat.  I could see someone wearing an adorable sundress grinning vivaciously at the school gates awaiting my arrival. "Elle!" she chirped, skipping towards me and wrapped her arms around me. I was taken aback by the sudden display of affection, but I returned the hug all the same. Anaise had bright curly orange hair that looked like flames in the sunlight. I looked bland in comparison, what with my dull jet black hair. She took my hand and placed in it a piece of grey paper. "What’s always coming but never arrives?" it wrote. I let out a small chuckle, the answer was obviously ‘tomorrow’. She does this for me everyday. At times the riddles were very simple, other times they boggle my mind and leave me wondering how she came up with them. The riddles were attempts to brighten my day.   Anaise had a certain sadness to her. I couldn’t explain it. She was bubbly and goofy and merry and yet, there was something in her eyes I couldn’t quite place. Something that never went away. I squeezed her hand as I told her the answer. "Correct! Oh Elle, you’re so smart," she says and proceeds to talk about her day and how it had been. It seemed as though the past weeks had been rough for Anaise. It was evident in the stories she told as we walked along the halls and into class together. We trusted each other a great deal and frequently divulged our secrets with one another. She knew of my harsh distaste for my life. No matter how many times and hours I take up as I rant and complain about the littlest of things, she was always there to listen. Her gentle advice would put me at ease, but it was her mere presence and listening ears that calmed the most dreadful of storms in me.   I guess the dark attracts light. Or the other way around. I’m not sure. Either way, she was the sun to my storm. No, more like the rainbow after the rain. Nothing out of the ordinary happened today other than Anaise telling me she had errands to attend to when class ended.  I was slightly disappointed not to be able to spend time with her, but I did not let it get to me as I made my way home. I knew that I could count on Anaise until hell freezes over, even if at the moment we couldn’t hang out together like we usually did. Upon reaching home, my father gave me a quick hug and kissed my forehead. It seemed like my brother wasn’t home yet since his room was unlit. I made up my mind then that it was going to be an early night before my thoughts could catch up to me. I made sure my blade was far away as I reminded myself that tomorrow was a new day. Our mornings usually went like that. The next morning was no exception – except that Anaise wasn’t at the school gate. I figured I would meet her later. I paid no mind to the dissonant sounds in the school hallways and went straight to class. Wasting time only left me feeling more worried and anxious. I was greeted in class with a piece of paper that had red scribbles with almost undecipherable handwriting on my desk. After careful analysis of the peculiar document, it turned out to just be the daily riddle from Anaise. I couldn’t help but smile. I went into the hallway and began the search for my friends. It was cramped and excruciatingly uncomfortable trying to weave through the crowd. However, the noise today was unbearably louder than usual. For good reason. I could not believe what was reaching my ears. I could not believe what they were showing me. So, I ran. I pushed away the people who were in the crowd, not bothering to apologise, not bothering to look back. I ran and ran and ran, not knowing where I was going, tears utterly blinding me from noticing all my surroundings. I ran as fast as I could, which honestly wasn’t fast at all since I wasn’t an athlete. Ran and ran with questions fogging my brain until finally, finally I stumbled on the root of an oak tree and fell to my knees. I screamed and sobbed and thrashed around. Screamed until my lungs gave out and my voice left me. I screamed, arms flailing around, pulled out my hair and kicked the ground sending dirt into the air. I screamed as if it would numb the pain. I lost track of time. Miri and the others found me in silence, defeated under the tree we used to sit under together. They hoisted me up and for once in my life I couldn’t feel my legs. Perhaps because they were overpowered by my heart that felt too much. Sorrow. Anger. Hurt. Disappointment. Guilt.   Everything after that was a blur.   Upon arriving home, my father and brother tightly embraced me. They offered words to console me. Everyone offered words to console me that day. It never made a difference. Nevertheless, I appreciated them.   Even climbing the stairs to reach my room took too much of an effort. But miraculously I did reach it, and then I fell on to my bed face first.   What seemed like only seconds later, though in reality were a few hours, my laptop let out a buzz. I felt myself looking up. I noticed Miri was inviting me for a call on Skype.   Although I was exhausted, I accepted the call. Miri was not alone. She was surrounded by our group of friends. I didn’t give a care of asking where they were. We talked about random things, I’m sure they actually just wanted to check up on me. The atmosphere was tense, as expected considering someone we held dear to our hearts was beaten to death with a broken wine bottle. We all shared the same bloodshot eyes, tired faces and heavy hearts. But we carried on. That was the only logical option.   All things come to an end, even if it was early like Anaise’s life. The call ended. I turned the lights off and tried to fall asleep.   I couldn’t.   The questions were plaguing my mind. How did she know her death was near? How could she pretend to be so happy and not tell a single soul that she was abused? Was she so happy on the morning of the day she passed because she knew it was all coming to an end? Am I the one to blame? I didn’t notice my hand wrapping around a familiar blade. Perhaps the answers were in her last note. I did not want to read it. Not because I could not read her incomprehensible handwriting, but because it meant saying goodbye. We did not realize how broken Anaise truly was. I did not realize it. She was more broken than me. More broken than her home. More broken than her family. More broken than her mother’s arm courtesy of her wonderful father. And so I began to draw pictures into my arm with the blade. Questions and sentences that I hoped could reach Anaise no matter where she may be. My best friend. My soulmate. Someone I considered to be a sister. Gone and never coming back. I let out a whimper of pain as the blade slashed a red line from my forearm and slowly reached my wrist. But I was not afraid. Not afraid anymore. The blade pressed down but it did not draw blood for I had paused. Indeed, I was no longer afraid of the voices tempting me to let the pool of red erupt from underneath my skin, to let the pain eat me up and join Anaise.   But for whatever reason, I stopped. The blade never reached my wrist. Then the world faded to black. - The graveyard was solemn. I placed a bouquet of flowers on her grave. It was the third anniversary of Anaise’s death. It was also the third anniversary of my survived and final suicide attempt. They had found me the morning after barely breathing with the words carved into my skin. To this day, some scars had healed, but not all of them were shallow cuts. My friends and family were eternally grateful I had made it alive. But of course, they wanted to know what had made me stop. I smiled whenever someone had the courage to ask me. And that is because Anaise saved me. On the day Anaise passed I had told her of my dream. I remember the ghost of a smile on her face when I finished. She told me to find meaning in it. To understand. I continued living because the world was cruel and Anaise was one of the many unfortunate victims. I live, because I refuse to concede to death. Instead, I live my life to the fullest for her. To show death it cannot bring everyone down with its sweet promise of closure. Anaise could have allowed herself to be as miserable as I was. She too could have held the blade. But unlike me, she didn’t let life become her murderer. She loved life still, or at least she loved and lived every single good time in between. There are those good times you don’t think about – the canopy’s protection in the morning on the way to school, the father’s kiss on the forehead, the brother’s pulling of the curtains. The little things to love and live for. Anaise taught me that everyone is worthy of love. Even me. Even you. My dearest, Anaise. On the night you passed, I was in an ill-lighted room. I heard the chilling sound of a music box. It called to me, singing the tragic yet alluring song of death. It whispered to me and sang of the peace death would grant and I almost gave in.   I guess you could say, Anaise, unfortunately for the music box, I was wearing ear plugs. And they were you. ... Read more

By Ghina Hijanah Abdul Ghani in
Reader Points: 400
Editor Points: 42000
Rank: 77
Views: 1514
Autumn Leaves, Falling
Published on 09-10-2017 09:36 PM

A wretched cry escaped from her mouth, feeling like she wanted to tear her heart out.

Read more

By Arianna Kugendran in
Reader Points: 20
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 183
Views: 94
Into the Looking Glass
Published on 09-09-2017 05:13 AM
Reader Points: 280
Editor Points: 27000
Rank: 303
Views: 732
A Present from the Future
Published on 09-06-2017 10:49 PM

When I was twelve, I found myself in the middle of the street...Learn MoreWhen I was twelve, I found myself in the middle of the street I had never seen in my life. The sky was clouded over with grey clouds, but still light enough to pass for daytime. A slight breeze was ruffling my hair, blissfully cool for a summer afternoon. Faded pavements bordered the gravelly road with equally faded shops sitting quaint and patient in an orderly line down the street to the other end where the street curved to the right and disappeared from view. There was only a few occasional passers-by, all hurrying to goodness knows where, not bothering to spare a glance at the young girl staring at them much longer than is considered polite. All these I took in with fascinated apprehension. Being the age I was, this was all but an unexpected adventure that only ever happened in books. The nearest shop to me next to the florist was a cafe that had the most amazing display of iced cakes and muffins in the window. I was tempted. I had some money leftover from lunch. How much would a muffin cost? It wouldn't hurt to ask, my brain decided, succumbing to the loud symphony consisting only of percussions my stomach was rumbling out. A few steps took me onto the slightly crumbled pavement and right outside the cafe door, where a handwritten sign told me that it was, obviously, 'open'. I pushed open the frosted glass door, wincing slightly as invisible tinkling bells announced my entrance. The first thing I noticed was the most heavenly smell of cinnamon and butter and fresh bread, all mingled together into a grand feast for the nose. Beanbags and couches formed cosy communities around sturdy tables. Infinite amounts of books stacked the shelves lining the walls, enclosing the dining area with faint smells of polished wood and crinkly old paper. I picked my way through the beanbags to the counter. There was a woman busying herself behind the counter with her back to me. She seemed deeply engrossed in whatever she was doing because apparently the bell on the door had not alerted my presence to her. I cleared my throat. "Um, excuse me." The woman turned and flashed me a smile. "Yes, sweetheart?" She couldn't have been older than my own sister of 24 years. Her eyes were the deepest shade of brown I'd ever seen, and as warm and kind as the colour was deep. Her features were soft and somehow familiar. I liked the look of her immediately. "I was wondering," I started, "if I could get something for, um…" I made a hurried count of the coins I had in my pocket. "Yes, of course," she replied before I could finish. "Help yourself," she told me with a bright smile. "You get a book to read too while you're at it." I thanked her and chose a muffin from a plate on the table. Not in much of a hurry to get home, I browsed the book shelves, noting that I had quite some of the books myself and marvelling at the several titles that I hadn't seen before. Almost all of the books looked second handed, yellowed and well-fingered. There was a particularly old one that caught my eye. The spine was a dark velvet blue and the title printed in gold: Meeting Myself in the Future. It wasn't a catchy title at all, more of a cheesy essay title teachers would ask of students in school, but somehow it captured my attention. Cramming the last of my muffin into my mouth, I slid the book from its place and examined it. The cover was velvet like the spine, and there were no illustrations whatsoever- just the title, in elaborate cursive. It was a hardcover, the expensive kind, and though it was a little battered on the edges, I could see that it was well cared for. "You like books, huh," A voice beside me made me jump. I was so intent on the book that I hadn't noticed the woman had come up beside me. She was looking at the book with a funny expression on her face. I nodded. "My dad buys me one every month if I'm good," I told her. She smiled at that information. "My dad used to too," she said, surprisingly. "He bought me a book every month until I went away to college. Most of the books here," she waved her hand around the cafe, "are my collection." "Cool!" I had thought the books were donated, or bought from flea markets. I had a small library back home myself, and I took pride in watching it grow over the years. I told her so. "So this is one of yours, too?" I showed her the book. "Actually," her expression was thoughtful, "I'm not sure where that book came from, but I've had it for ten years. Exactly ten years today," she added, her eyes twinkling at me. "Really?" Ten years was a long time to a twelve-year-old. "So what's it about?" I asked. "Well, it's mostly about a girl who accidentally found herself in the future and met herself," the woman told me. "Her future self gave her a journal containing some advice to last her for ten years." The plot sounded as boring as the title. “It’s a pretty good book,” the woman continued. “I learnt a lot out of it. In a way, it made me who I am today.” She paused, her expression thoughtful for a moment. “Tell you what,” she said suddenly, looking straight at me. “You can have the book. I’m sure you can learn out of it as well.” I was taken aback. “What?” “Sharing is caring, child.” She took me by the arm and steered me out of the cafe. "The muffin's on the house," she said briskly. "As for the book... It's yours now.” I understood her as far as muffins went, and no more beyond. "You're giving me the book?" "Yes." Her reply was short. I looked at the book in my hands. It wasn't very heavy considering its thickness, but it had the comfortable weight of a good quality book. I hesitated. "Are you sure-?" "Very. You have to go now," she said. "You'll know in the future." I would have been highly annoyed if any other adult had said that to me, but somehow her tone had an effect on me. "All right then. Thank you very much." I tried to be as formal as I could. She replied with a wave and a smile, and disappeared into the cafe again. It has been ten years since. I never found that street or the cafe again, which had been quite a disappointment, but the book was reassurance enough that my little adventure had happened. It is still with me, and just like I was told, it had taught me a lot, and had made me who I am now. Today, though, was the last chapter in the book. The bell on the door tinkled, signalling the arrival of a customer. A timid voice piped from behind me: "Um, excuse me." I turned and smiled. "Yes, sweetheart?"  ... Read more

By Chan Huey Yung in
Reader Points: 420
Editor Points: 57000
Rank: 3
Views: 1149
Last Christmas
Published on 09-06-2017 06:49 PM

"Making through... Excuses!" She jostled through the crowd thick with stale sweat and vinegar sour, pushing anyone that's in her way, right after the door of the tube was wide open. She couldn't be more panicked, after realizing she had 5 minutes left before getting reprimanded for the first day of work. Her hair bun was a tangled mess, with some strands left ...Learn More"Making through... Excuses!" She jostled through the crowd thick with stale sweat and vinegar sour, pushing anyone that's in her way, right after the door of the tube was wide open. She couldn't be more panicked, after realizing she had 5 minutes left before getting reprimanded for the first day of work. Her hair bun was a tangled mess, with some strands left untied gently taking flight in the summer breeze. But all she concerned at that instant was her punctuality, praying and hoping that the consequences would not get in her way before stepping herself out of the aspirational entrance. Her heart pumping as hard as it could manage, she took the mere risk by gullibly taking the junction up ahead, even though the road was piled with big and small vehicles, some were prestigious as it seemed, and some were in the range of average. Neglecting on how sore her legs must have been after sprinting without stopping, the glint her eyes stayed calm. "Just a little bit further," she muttered under her breath, trying everything within her power to suppress her anxiety over this, but it seemed that her heart had massively invaded her mental interpretation. Looked like nothing could resist her temptation. Just as she was few blocks away, unintentionally, her body bumped into a guy, who was about 10 inches taller than her. His hair was like flaming sunset until you could observe a slight tint of halo casting over his head. His failed-to-be-tanned porcelain skin appeared to be the underscore of his general figure. Nonetheless, disappointingly, she didn't help herself to look any second longer on the bumped victim, but instead, she just went off without an apology.  The guy looked at the runaway girl doubtfully, as he was curious on what was happening to her. Giving up his time for the morning wrap in his hand, he rushed forward to expect an explanation. "Miss, slow down. Is there anything I can do to help you? You seemed lost," his voice resonated in the air, although it was mildly cracked at first, it was audible enough in the end. She stood at the spot where she’d last placed her foot on, physically frozen when an immediate offer which sounded as cordial as it seemed ringing behind her ears. She turned her head back momentarily, trying to make up her mind whether she should irrationally put up a smile. But as soon as she realized every second was ticking away, she knew she had to decide fast. "I don't know how to reward you back, but I would request a short-distance ride from you to work." She beamed absentmindedly, as he gave in her eyes and smirked like he just found something enlightening. Taking the car keys out from his pocket, it dangled between his fingers like cathedral chimes. "Let's get moving," *** She hopped into the passenger’s seat in his classic Volkswagen, feeling some quite taunting for someone who would treat her in such prosperous hospitality. As far as he got into his driver’s seat and have the safety belts secured, it was already 8:57. Three more minutes, her breathing quickens. Three minutes before the door will be locked from intruders permanently. The engine roared in pain as he skillfully rammed the keys into the keyhole, hands on the steering wheel and began speeding like a reckless professional. Her mouth gaped and was dry in fear as he dashed through the red lights, morphologically beyond her expectations. It made her weak stomach did a little churning flip, and what tired her more was when the overwhelming speed, as she was on the brink of passing out. It was then when she halted him contradictorily, a vile tang of remorse remained stagnant in her mouth. "I think it's wise if you could bring the speed a little lower, I'm not used to crossing the borderline," his aware eyes transfixed on her for a while, before put off the excitement. Until then when she took in and scrutinized, his eyes were the most alluring shape of hazelnuts, immersed in the color of the serene crystal blue water. What arrested more of her attention is from the mass of sincerity in his eyes, the one of a kind that you presumably wouldn't usually find, as there was more intangible ology masked like a hidden blade behind those beautiful eyes, as no one except himself could understand the depth of his inner soul. His eyes found hers for a moment and snapped away before she could read them attentively. "Slow, yeah, of course. Sorry 'bout that." His words were soft and husky at the same time, but somehow cracked a little as it got to the end. It killed her at that instant. Suppressing her temptation to laugh, she sat quietly beside him while fixing her eyes on the immaculate window frame. The journey was stranded in complete silence, except for the heart-wrenching soprano Rhapsody hoovered in wane kept them entertained, in an arid quality. There was so much for her to say, or to be cordial, to gratify him, for his willing personality and his heart of an angel, technically lend her a hand despite both of them are radical strangers. But her mouth was abruptly dry with speechlessness, and her hands gained cold sweat from the second of his offer. Instead, she just sat there like a paralyzed victim without making any verbal activity. But in the end, he spoke before her just as his car halted in front of the traffic lights. "Your office is right after this junction where we're heading. We'll reach there in no time at all." Just a few twenty more deliberate seconds before we would be apart? How's that possible? Wait, what was she even thinking? She blamed herself without rhyme or reason. What made the scenario more hilarious was that she did actually it for someone that she's just bounced into amidst the aisle, and that mindful interpretation of hers made her hoovered in thoughts for a moment. After attempting all his effort taking her there, she thanked him with her face flushed with embarrassment, and insisted on the right to pay. But he declined as what she appeared to her like a gentleman although he explained the need for him to do so. Indecisively, she shoved the notes into her coat pocket and rushed the prime entrance of her office. Before she shook her legs, he converted something to her out of the circle of expectation. "The reason why I helped you, is because I find you familiar somehow. I don't remember where we've met before, but I have a feeling it was a few weeks before Thanksgiving." His eyes shimmered reflectively in the golden daylight. "I was selling a basket of Christmas cookies, and for me it was a tiring task. No one noticed me standing beside the aisle in the relatively violent snow, as if I was some ghost to them. Until you came approaching me, and paid for 30 bucks for all the cookies in the basket. What's more to that, is you gave me this," he paused as he took out a tiny wretched notebook, wrapped securely with a Georgia brown hardcover. It was torn at the edges, but if you neglect the distortion masking the book, it's fresh with inspiration. His fingers curled and encircled the binding strings along the spine of the book, saying "Your writing is decently enthralling, and utterly a thoughtful form of composition. I read it every single night since that day, my love for this book gets firmer and stronger each time I lay my eyes on your compelling motivation within. It gave me hope to a new beginning each and every morning, at the very start when the birds began chirping in optimism and the clouds drifting along the cerulean bright sky. I couldn't love it more, but I believe it's time I return it to its rightful author. It is the time when it needs to realistically provide its penniless but profound service to the one who produced it. Here," he said, with his hands extending the book to her. She breathed in, as she retrieved it in response with uncertainties. It felt good under her fingertips, the smooth surface of the few-centimeters-thick cover accompanied by the silent call from itself. Despite it was supposed to be given back to her, a feeling inside urged her to steer the expected decision away. "You know what? I think it's best if you keep it to yourself, since it has encouraged you so much in various aspects. God knows what it will bring to you in the future. Please, take the honor on my behalf," She enunciated like a knowledgably substantial women, her hands covering his while giving him the book in person. The lights in his eyes went dancing in delight, those wild expressions coming from the pair of sapphires made her stomach churned, in a badass way. "I don't know what to say. Thank you so much," his smile perched at the edge of his lips for a while. She was glad that made him happy. As soon as the party of gratitude was over, she bid farewell to him with pure satisfaction and turned away. But her keen on him didn't stop there, until he proposed, "May I know your name? ... Read more

By Sophie Tan Yi Kah in
Reader Points: 0
Editor Points: 24000
Rank: 365
Views: 125
A Story about Seert
Published on 09-06-2017 06:20 PM
She touched the tiny, thin, piece of green. There were millions of them at least, all connected by a series of wire-like strands. The delicate strands were attached to a solid brown structure. It was breathtaking; she was mesmerized by the intricate detail that covered the solid brown structure, parallel lines and loops with unique wrinkles all over. She then placed the palm of her hand gently ...Learn MoreShe touched the tiny, thin, piece of green. There were millions of them at least, all connected by a series of wire-like strands. The delicate strands were attached to a solid brown structure. It was breathtaking; she was mesmerized by the intricate detail that covered the solid brown structure, parallel lines and loops with unique wrinkles all over. She then placed the palm of her hand gently but cautiously on the detailed surface. “How beautiful,” she thought, as she slid her hand through the grooves and felt every nook and cranny. It was rough, yet she was admiring the texture as one would when examining silk. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally let her sight trail off to her surroundings: more structures of what she was observing, all tall and mighty green soldiers that stood up straight. This was unbelievable because these structures were supposedly nonexistent. She continued to thread cautious steps as she explored the confined space of greens. Every step she took was a risk in her life and safety; she would be seriously harmed if she was caught. Nonetheless, this was a view that she’d willingly die for. ​“Heal the world. Make it a better place.” this melodious tone came out from the buds of my earphone. I was nodding to the beat, thoroughly enjoying myself by the enchanting lyrics. I don’t normally listen to such old music and I often feel embarrassed when my friends laugh about my two centuries old song. But I felt a connection to the song, it is as if it was written for a noble reason, and only I truly understood what the singer wanted to convey. It touched me in a way that no other song did, it inspired me to study and learn about why it was written in the past, yet conserved till the present. This leaded to where I am currently. I was in deep thought when I was suddenly interrupted.  “Daydreaming again, Miss Katy?” It was my intelligence counselor, Mrs. James. She has been monitoring my progress at the study institute for the past 10 years. She knows me like the back of her hand, all my perks and pet-peeves more than in check. “Just excited about the trip, Mrs.” I smiled sheepishly as I accepted her glance of approving disapproval. I chuckled to myself as I thought about how much this woman has taught and nurtured me with information and knowledge. At the same time, she has been dealing with my easily diverted attention and mischievous antics. Today, she serves as my guide to where we were heading to.​ She was immersed in her surroundings. She felt extremely blessed to have been given the opportunity to be one of the very few individuals to witness such impeccable masterpieces of nature. Truly, she was not the first to intrude this top-secret property. She was on a quest that could possibly solve all environmentalists’ questions that have haunted the society for the past few decades. All efforts done in the past to solve them concluded to be futile. It was also a quest to further solidify the existence of human beings on planet earth with its resources. Hence, only talented and skilled individuals were chosen to bear the task. They were also given years of training to perfect their abilities to make them successful in their heavy responsibility. ​It was currently her turn. She had the same mission and her task was simple. She was more than capable of doing the deed in her sleep having being walked through the same scenario many, many times during training. She was warned to complete the task as fast as possible, just like the others before her. Yet, most of them lost themselves in the so called Garden of Eden. It was a forbidden place that made them lose focus on their task, resulting in fatal consequences. Shaking her head to snap out of her trance, she proceeded to look for her target.​ The transportation vehicle that we were on was travelling at an extremely high speed. Everything outside the window was an unmistakable blur of grays and yellows, artificial colours that drowned the surroundings of the city. Natural hues were no longer present in normal civilization in this period of time. The green pigment of chlorophyll in plants exists only theoretically in archives from decades ago, along with the other colours of flowers and fruits. But we’ve come quite some distance since those dark days. Real specimens are currently only available through special mediums and are to be protected from further harm. The destination that we were close to approaching was one of these mediums. To think that something that was once an abundance in our lives was gone all because we took them for granted. I shook my head at the foolishness of humanity. “That’s what Michael warned us about, he knew since back then,” I came to realise. The rest of the journey was filled with silent thoughts. Her black attire made her stand out of the green background, but that was pale in comparison to the bright reds and pinks that decorated the taller structures. Her heart skipped a beat with excitement. She had not heard anyone mention seeing them before. She trudged a few more steps when one of the red objects fell gently to the ground. Carefully, she picked it up and examined it. It had small velvety textured pieces surrounding it and there was a thin strand sticking out in the middle. Even though it was something that was she did not expect to find, she named all the parts that she touched, ‘stigma’ and ‘petals’, she mouthed wordlessly as she was equipped with the knowledge. She put the exquisite object into her pouch, she intended to show it to the others when she gets out. If, she gets out. “We’re here,” Mrs. James led me out of the vehicle as she gestured to the large building in front of us. I was anxious to finally see what existed behind those grand doors, but more importantly, what existed in front of everyone’s door long before my time. I pictured the scene that seemed so unreal to me. It felt impossible for everyone to have such priceless structures everywhere around them. It was not a luxury I suppose; it was a way of life. Humans depending on them for naturally produced oxygen instead of wearing specialised masks like what we do now. How did we even muster the strength and power to cause destruction on such an epic scale? To the point where nothing is natural anymore, to the point where we live and breathe technology?Ridiculous. ​I flipped through the floating image on my palm and read silently. ​“The last known one was located at Optamatrix Square. It was believed to bear fruit that contains seeds. Many scientists also believed that the seeds were suitable to germinate under specific conditions that could easily be manipulated in their laboratories. If their theory was correct, the seeds would have been the key to the survival of these species. Unfortunately, before any tests could be carried out on the seeds, the entire structure vanished suddenly in one night. Some speculate that it was stolen by people who were hungry for the power that it could provide; others speculate that it had been moved to ensure its safety. Elites and experts from national organizations teamed up to locate it. Nonetheless, there was no luck in their search. It was gone without a single trace or a clue. ​“This lead to the formation of secret organizations that dedicated themselves to solve the mystery. They were considered to be highly exclusive and were only known by a handful of people. These people were tediously chosen from different aspects to fulfill the requirements of becoming a member. Shielded from the eyes of the public and government, they were highly active around the world. Many believed that they were funded by officials and was kept private to protect the high profile members.” ​She crept towards the centre of the garden. And there it was: what she had been searching for. It was smaller and shorter compared to those beside it. Yet, it was the most precious thing in the room. She kneeled down, pulling out a tool from her belt. It was designed to make a perfect hole so that the extraction was efficient and quick. She grabbed the structure with a strong but soft touch, gently holding it in place while her tool did the job. A silent beep was heard when the task was completed. She smiled to herself, contented that she had made it this far. “Now for the hardest part,” she gave herself a sense of fake assurance to continue. She was determined to be successful or she would die trying. In that moment, a loud and shrill sound deafened her. It was an alarm from the security system that she may have accidentally triggered. Her covert identity was compromised. She had only mere seconds to escape before she was caught. ​She placed the extracted structure into her pouch in one swift movement. Then, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her.  ​“You should really start reading an updated version of the story, Miss Katy,” Mrs. James smiled at me as I finally turned off the floating image. I looked up at her and said: “You know how well I know the story already. You were the one who shared the complete version with me in the first place. Have you forgotten?” She winked at me and walked ahead without replying. We were there, a few feet away from the magnificent structure. Its broad canopy was well in sight, lush and green with a tinge of yellow peeking out in some places. As I walked closer, I could see the thick brown bark that supported the structure. Although a thick glass was bordered around the structure, I could clearly see that it was carved with svelte lines that seemed to reach to the very tips of the structure. The sunlight shone through the gaps of the greens, highlighting a few bright patches on the marble floor that I was standing on. A hologram appeared as I stood right in front of the glass. Words formed in thin air and it read: “The first tree that has been restored in the history of humanity since the past 150 years: The Tree Of Life. It is currently over 60 years old and is the sole producer of the other descendant trees around the world. It was discovered by Mellaney Adams, a member of a secret organization called the SEERT Society. The Tree of Life opened many doors in various fields of scientific research that allowed mankind to replant and bring life back to Planet Earth once more. To this day, we owe it to Mellaney Adams for being the only pioneer that was successful in her quest to relocate and restore this tree to the general public.” “And if you really try, you’ll find there’s no need to cry. In this place, you’ll feel there’s no hurt or sorrow,” I smiled. “Well done, grandma.Very well done.” Her legs were badly injured; she had a few deep wounds from an open fire. She dragged her profusely bleeding feet across the barren land. Every step required excruciating effort. She gritted her teeth and went on. Her arms had bruises all over them too due to an old school fistfight with her opponent when she ran out of ammo. Luckily, she managed to slip away as she tripped the man with a low sweep. That was about a few hours ago and she had not stopped running since. ​Finally, she arrived at the secured base. She was the only one there as she lost contact with the people in charge of the SEERT Society, the ones who sent her into the mansion where the miniature forest was hidden in the beginning. She couldn’t care less about the lack of welcoming party. She only cared about the final procedure of her long task. She sighed in relief as she saw the destined patch on the ground. She calmly took the small plant out of her pouch and began to dig a hole for it to be planted. Alas, she dropped her digging tool during combat and was forced to dig with her bare hands. The soil was firm and sandy giving her minor cuts and epidermal lacerations. She ignored the sting as her task was way more important than her fingers and palms, at least to her. She continued to dig up the earth with her hands - the hole was nowhere near big enough yet, but soon it would be.... Read more
By Mellaney Goh in
Reader Points: 20
Editor Points: 33000
Rank: 234
Views: 100
Published on 09-05-2017 01:39 AM

I rubbed my temples as they started throbbing painfully. I downed some painkillers out of habit. Ears ringing, perhaps a sign of pending tinnitus. Alas for me, that was not the case.

Her piercing scream and bloodied hands haunted my dreams. But I failed to see her face. “Damned woman....Learn MoreI rubbed my temples as they started throbbing painfully. I downed some painkillers out of habit. Ears ringing, perhaps a sign of pending tinnitus. Alas for me, that was not the case. Her piercing scream and bloodied hands haunted my dreams. But I failed to see her face. “Damned woman. I don’t even know who you are,” I cursed.   The dark circles around my eyes were the testimony of my frequent insomnia episodes. Fresh water for facial absolution could not provide instant remedy to the temporary biological damage. Eye-Mo drops would do, just to relieve the dryness and irritability.   Staring at my torso, I frowned at the scar to the left of my sternum. I once asked my mom about it when I was at the age where curiosity got the best of me. She simply said that I was born with that. “That’s your birthmark,” her words echoed in my mind as my right fingers traced the outline. I swore that it looked more like a stab wound, and sometimes it hurt like hell, especially when the nightmare occurred.   I wriggled myself into the office wear. Weapon harness was fastened securely, housing my Beretta 92. Glock 26 was secured at my ankle. All firearms were concealed nicely. I shoved my badge into my pockets, along with other IDs. Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my leather satchel and stormed out of my apartment to catch the early morning MRT ride.     “You look awful. Coffee, black?” she offered the steaming mug. I just shrugged and shook my head vigorously. My satchel landed on my seat with a thud.   She rolled her eyes. “Excuses, excuses. Anyway, how is it with the investigation?”   I knew which she was referring too albeit I caught her pouting towards the mountain of papers on my work desk. Time for serious updates.   “Sir, I’m meeting Prof Ku tomorrow to have his opinion regarding the weapon used by the killer.”   ASP Kavitha took one of the files. She maintained her professionalism but her scorching gaze literally burnt my soul.   “Detective Arman, we’ve been dragging this case to almost a month. This is not like you,” her voice sounded edgy. Yes, she was right. I had not been myself lately.   “Look, sir. I admit that it’s my fault for the delay. But, I will do my best to close this case,” if I have other leads and angles, were the words remained unspoken. To mention that this case somehow was related to my dreams would be a catastrophe. There was no way the work of a medium would be recognised as standard police procedural.   The door flung open. A lady in red made a remarkable entrance, like a prima donna under the spotlight on a centre stage delivering an aria. Her red summer hat hindered her face from full exposure.   “Officers, I want to lodge a report,” her breaths were shallow, almost hyperventilating.   “I have witnessed a murder,” with those words, she fell into Kavitha’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Kavitha removed her hat, revealing the most familiar face.   Our eyes met. Her eyes widened, a pleasant surprise spread across her face. And judging by her expression, she knew. Goddammit, she knew.   She steadied herself, detaching herself from Lydia. She approached me, her hands shook as she grabbed mine. Her palms cold in my grasp. She leaned closer and whispered, “This time, you won’t turn your back on me, would you?”     She was Mirandized prior to the interview. I let Kavitha lead the interrogation. I did not pay attention to the content of the interrogation as I tried to assess my feelings. My gaze flew on her features. After all these years, she was still a vision. Something caught in my throat so I excused myself to exit the interview room.   At the water dispenser, I chugged down the cold water.   “Are you trying to intoxicate yourself? If you are, you have a poor choice of a drink, Arman,” her sultry, seductive voice caught my attention.   I spun around and found myself vis-à-vis with her.    “Pei Ni,” was all I could muster.   She smiled easily. Her hand reached for one of the paper cups. The cold water jet-sprayed into her cup.   “Who would have thought my former beau is now in the royal police force.”   I made no comment on that. Her eyes scanned me.   I swallowed hard. “So, the murder is connected to a case I’ve been investigating. You are now our valuable asset. We really appreciate every information you have.”   She sighed. “Au contraire. I can also be a liability. I don’t want to be in the witness protection programme, you know.”   I crunched the paper cup and tossed it into the waste basket that was ten-feet away. Triple point score.   “The murder weapon was a folding fan. Similar to the one that I’ve lost when we were in Form Five. No, let me correct that version. The one that you threw away when we were in Form Five,” she thoroughly had given a thought on that.   “At least that eliminates you from being one of the suspects. We couldn’t find the fan after all,” at least I was relieved to know that she did not own the fan anymore.     On the stage, where the auditorium was dimly lit, she expertly flicked open the folding fan and began to dance. Slowly, gracefully, in sync with the invisible tune. Until she eerily sang a haiku.   Taint this fan with blood Of the heart of a true love Death by my own hands   And she continued to dance. I could not understand the rhythm. The steps were too complex and complicated. I called out to her but she did not listen. Or refused to listen. Until she collapsed on the floor, the fan clasped shut, pearls of sweats drenching the wooden parquet.   I rushed to her side but I gasped when she turned to look at me. I felt my blood draining. I could only see the reds of her eyes. No pupils. Why could I not see the whites?   Perhaps it was just the reflection of the crimson lanterns hanging as stage props. She was the one who mouthed whether I was all right. Weird, I could not hear her words. At least her pupils looked normal.   “What?”   She grinned and playfully hit my forehead with the folding fan’s head. “I was asking whether you were OK. Gees, you looked horrified, as if you’d seen a ghost or something.”   I tried to help her on her feet. A cloying jasmine scent clung strong to my nostril. I sniffed around but it did not come from her.   She eyed at me suspiciously. “What are you doing?”   “I’m trying to smell something,” and sniffed closer to her.   She shoved me away in annoyance. “Pervert,” she muttered.   “No, there’s this overbearing jasmine scent. Can you not smell it?” I tried to grab her but she edged away from me.   “There’s seriously something wrong with you. If you want to ask what kind of perfume I’m wearing, just ask. Sheesh…”   Hurt by the accusation, I surrendered. “Fine. Anyway, next time please don’t sing something scary.”   She was bewildered. “Huh? Sing?”   I was desperate. “Well, you did, during your recital. A few minutes ago?”   She threw me a confused look. “I didn’t sing. And I don’t sing. My recital doesn’t involve singing. Just dancing. What’s wrong with you? If you’re doing drugs, please stop.” She said accusingly.   I wished I could say something. Instead, I clamped my mouth shut, teeth clenched.   And I stared at the folding fan in her hand. Call it illusion but I swore that I saw something crimson dripping. I yanked the fan from her and threw it as far as I could. I grabbed her hand and led her away from the stage. She cursed and hit me as we ran from the place but I never let her go. How could I when I heard screams, cries and the haunting haiku echoing from the edge of the stage where the folding fan lie. I just ran with her until the evil sounds faded.     She was crestfallen. “I searched high and low for it the day after. But somehow, the fan vanished. Untraceable. You don’t know how hard it was to explain to my dad about the fan went missing. It was one of a kind. Just imagine the cost.”   “Did your dad tell you where he got the fan?” this detail was very crucial.   She rolled her eyes. “Not got. Bought. From Japan. It was handcrafted. That’s how rare it was. And you just threw it away!”   “It scared the shit out of me, Pei Ni. I thought you were possessed. But you were not. The fan was playing a mental trick on me!” enraged, I blurted out everything that I had bottled inside for years.   It was akin to a physical blow. She kept quiet. She refilled her cup with another douse of cold water. The silence was overwhelming.   “That was the reason you turned cold towards me, wasn’t it? That’s why you left me. You thought I was possessed,” her voice was still.   “No,” I took a seat on the nearest bench, my head in between my legs.   “I left because I saw your death. It will happen if you stay with me. I’ve been cursed by the spirit residing inside the fan,” I moaned.   She sauntered towards me, kneeling in front of me. She held my cheeks and looked directly into my eyes, dead serious and with determination. “Well, our paths have crossed again. And this time, we’re in this together.”     “As you can see, the folding fan doubles as a weapon,” Professor Ku, a renowned anthropologist, demonstrated by pressing a button guised as a rivet. A dagger automatically sprang out, the sharp blade glinted, and once the button was released, it retracted into its sheath.   “Although this is just a duplicate, it provides an accurate explanation about the murder weapon used by the killer. Thank you, Prof Ku, for your insight and time,” I turned off the video recorder and made a mental note to have the footage analysed.   Professor Ku watched me intently. “Detective Arman, I would like to show you something.”   “What is it, Professor?” intrigued, I was more than welcomed to see what kind of surprise he had for me.   Behind his magnificent mahogany desk, Professor Ku retrieved a rolled parchment from his drawer. The parchment contained a painting as magnificent, portraying the majestic Yamato era.   “It was more of a tale, you see. Around 600 AD, about a young geisha of Indian origin falling head over heels with a Sino warrior during the Battle of Baekgang. She saved him and would be tried for espionage should the court learn about this. Her extravagant lifestyle prevented her to spend time with the warrior so he was left under the care of a maiko. So, the warrior was deeply in love with the maiko who nursed him back to health.”   I was mesmerised by the realistic drawing. I wondered why the dark-skinned geisha had a veil on her face. “The warrior… he looks like me.”   Professor Ku nodded. “The resemblance is uncanny.”   I gulped, my heart was palpating wildly. “How did he die?”   “A blade pierced his heart as he tried to save his bride from being mutilated by the lunatic geisha. And the geisha performed seppuku due to grief,” Professor Ku grimly explained.   And the maiko, the bride-to-be, resembled Pei Ni. How weird could this be?   “How about the bride?”   Professor Ku rolled the parchment and again kept it inside his drawer. “She was safe and fled from the scene, carrying his unborn child. She travelled far and finally sought refuge in Langkasuka, or Kedah as it is known in the modern world.”   I was born in Kedah. This information was very unsettling. I left Professor Ku’s premise after properly thanking him for his immense help.   I went home and did my research on my family tree via online. It was deep-rooted. The more I dug, the more I marvelled at how the history unveiled in front of me.   The truth set me free. I was one of his descendants.     Staying late at the office, I examined the photos of every victim. All females had the same features. There was something here that connected them all but what was it?   I received a text via SMS from Pei Ni, saying that she would be having late practice at the theatre. A few minutes later, I received another text but it was from Kavitha, saying that she would keep an eye on Pei Ni.   Frustrated, I moved from my work desk and ambled towards Kavitha’s. I saw her family photo and felt a hard slap on the face when I saw her in veil.   I ran to my desk and pulled all photos together on the computer screen, inclusive of Pei Ni’s and Kavitha’s. This was it. This was the missing link.   And this meant Pei Ni’s life was in danger.     Pei Ni was gagged and tied to one of the columns. Tears streaming down her cheeks and drenched the gag around her mouth.   Kavitha played with the folding fan, the retractable dagger was out of its sheath. “After centuries, you still appear.”   Pei Ni struggled in the bondage.   “You had him before. Now, he will be forever mine,” Kavitha cackled and was about to drive the dagger home.   Gunshot was fired. Sulphurous odour filled the air. I meant to unman her. But my shot was fatal. It went straight through her heart   The folding fan dropped to the ground. Lydia spun around. Crimson cloud darkened her white blouse.   My clutch piece was in my hand. I was crying. “Why, Kavitha? The other victims… They were innocent.”   “Call it vengeance so none of them take you away from me,” you are my love, my one sweet warrior.   She slumped face-down on the floor. There was a detailed report that I needed to file. Yet I put it aside first because there was a funeral early in the morning that I must attend. Who would have believed my superior was a serial killer? Who would have believed supernatural was at fault? Yet it happened.   Somewhere deep within, my heart felt somewhat pulverised. Somehow, I felt my eyes misted. Get a grip, I told myself.   I unceremoniously placed the folding fan next to her frozen body before the Hindu priest performed the mukhagni. I offered a silent prayer of peace for her soul. She was part of my past. My future and destiny was standing right next to me, in flesh. I turned and saw that her face showed a mix of relief and concern. And love. Always love.   “Let’s get out of here,” I whispered.   We both exited the temple, hand in hand, walking towards the sunrise.... Read more

By Izwazi in
Reader Points: 380
Editor Points: 36000
Rank: 157
Views: 1177
Three Men in a Room
Published on 09-05-2017 01:21 AM
Somebody ate the pizza.Pete just came back. The door was locked when he came in, the windows were closed, no signs of a break in. Yet, it was gone. "What in the blazes?" Pete was in disbelief. He was sure that he checked the pizza in the refrigerator this morning, sitting there, waiting for him to eat it. The large pepperoni, sausage pizza, topped with extra mozzarella cheese, green peppe...Learn MoreSomebody ate the pizza.Pete just came back. The door was locked when he came in, the windows were closed, no signs of a break in. Yet, it was gone. "What in the blazes?" Pete was in disbelief. He was sure that he checked the pizza in the refrigerator this morning, sitting there, waiting for him to eat it. The large pepperoni, sausage pizza, topped with extra mozzarella cheese, green pepper, and laced with Georgie's Secret Sauce. (He drooled at the thought of it). But now, it's gone. Pete flumped onto his chair, recovering from his stupefied state. Pizza. Gone. He was saving the pizza for tonight's dinner while catching up on Oi no Yugi. I'm three episodes behind. He checked his watch, and the proceeded to stare into space. "I've only been gone for 4 hours. Did any of them get back here before I did?" He was of course, referring to his two other roommates, Andre and Mike. Andre was too health conscious for pizza, Mike, hates cheese. The only person who would scoff down a large pizza all by himself was in fact Pete himself. Well, he did accidentally spill some spaghetti sauce onto Mike's artwork the other day, but he was cool about it. Or was he? Pete's eyes shot to the toilet. What if Mike was holding a grudge? What if he flushed his pizza down the... His phone pinged before he completed the absurd thought. Pete checked the message and gave a sigh. "Really? Now?" He figured that he would ask Andre and Mike about the pizza later. But now, he had to go. "I guess it can't be helped, then." And he went out. *** I caught Jenny half-opening her mouth as if to ask something while I was sipping my cappuccino, but instead proceeded to sip her latte instead."What's the matter, Jen?" I inquired. She sighed at me with her soft eyes and cute smile. Oh, was she beautiful. "Andre, who do you live with again?" "My roommates, Pete and Mike." Why was she asking this question? "Mike is the artist and Pete is the... ah..." "Geek." I sipped my coffee again. "He has this entire comic book collection stored on a shelf. Nasty stuff." Jenny didn't sense my indifferent tone. "You don't talk about them much. Don't like them?" "I like you more." I gave a wink. Please don't ask me anymore about my roommates. Jenny turned pink and smirked. "Your cheesy pickup lines worked three months ago. It's not working now." "Your face tells a different story," I smiled. Jenny sat up straight to look more serious, but ended up blushing even more. True, we've only known each other for three months. It was just another boring day at the shop when suddenly this graceful doe came prancing in looking for something. "What can I do for you, miss?" I froze when she turned around. "I'm looking for a hat that goes with my dress." I tried my smoothest line, impromptu. "You're looking for a hat? We sell hats here. My, isn't that a coincidence? Or is it fate?" Really, Andre? That was the best you could come up with? Jenny still laughs at me for that."If you don't like your roommates," Jenny leaned closer, "you could always come stay with me." I almost fell off my chair. I did however, manage to spray some coffee on (thank goodness not Jenny) my trousers. Jenny merely chuckled. Then she laughed."Oh, Jen. I can't," I tried to wipe off the coffee, hoping it doesn't stain.  "I'm just kidding, Andre," she replied, as she took a tissue and wiped my mouth. "But, why would you still stay with them, though? Aren't there better places to rent?" I hesitated, but decided to tell her, "Well, we've been roommates like forever since uni. As fate would will it, we've end up in the same town, and decided to stay together." I shrugged at my half-lie."Not convincing enough," Jenny sneered. "But I'll leave it at that. I'm sure you have some deep dark secret with them that you're not ready to tell me yet." I only smiled as I checked my watch. I got up. "Sorry, Jenny, but I gotta get going." Jenny cocked her head. "Mike promised he wouldn't paint in the room for a week if I fetched him to see the hills today. I don't want him flailing his brush all over the place. He's doing abstract." Jenny scrunched her brow. "Mike is odd." "Artists are odd people." I shrugged some more.  "I'd like to meet him someday." "Yeah, maybe. Bye, Jenny.""Bye, babe."She smiled with her beautiful big grin as I went off.  *** You breathed in atop the buildings as you took in the atmosphere. The clouds, the sky, the air, the birds. The scent of acrylic fills up your nose as you glanced over to your finished masterpiece. Fire engine orange covered the top part of the canvas, with violet and purple for the hills. In the center is a blot of angry red, because the Sun has seen much agony over the world and was going to bed angry. In reality, the Sun is no more, and your painting is what that's left of the melancholic scene."That's an ugly Sun," you spite yourself. "I shall call it 'Angry Sun'." You laughed at the inane name. To be honest, people would know it's a painting of a setting sun only because you named it that way. "Feh." You didn't care. Today's work was done and it was time to call it a day.Or so you thought. Something didn't feel right today. You felt bloated, coupled with a mild headache. Pete was complaining about the pizza going missing, which was a rather odd thing to happen. The T-shirt you were wearing was immediately off. (There was a Master Yoda on it, something only Pete would wear, not you, not Andre. Why was there a red sauce stain on it?) You took a not too precarious step towards the edge of the roof, taking one last look at the scenery. Andre's car wasn't too far away. You looked at your watch. Guess it's time to head home. "Why do I have a feeling that something bad is about to happen?" You muttered to yourself.Unbeknownst to you, you were right. *** Pete checked his phone on the way down the stairs. "Ugh, they don't know either?" Both Andre and Mike didn't know anything about the pizza. "But who could have done it? Only three of us have the keys! Unless, there was someone elARGHHH..." Pete missed a step and feel down the stairs. He thanked the gods that he was at the last three steps when he fell as he came to his senses. "Ow. They're not gonna like this." Then, as if struck by lightning, Pete suddenly had a theory. "Oh, no. I think I know what's going on. I gotta tell them fast." Pete walked off as fast as he could. *** "What the hell, Mike?" I couldn't believe it. Mike's bag was leaking purple and red. Also some orange. Maybe yellow. "It's gonna leak all over the car!" I threw his bag out, only to feel a sharp pain on my right elbow. Wow, was the bag that heavy? I quickly grabbed some tissue to wipe off the paint off the seats. "You better hope that acrylic doesn't stain on leather. Else, I'm not taking you anywhere anymore!" As I went to find any large plastic bag to put Mike's bag of art gear, I suddenly thought about Jenny. You could always come stay with me. No, no ,no ,no. We're not that far into that relationship yet. These things take time. I'm hopelessly in love, am I not? I just can't stop thinking about her. Something else I couldn't stop thinking about was Pete's message. I checked my phone again. OMG guys I think I know what happened to the pizza you might think I'm crazy I'm not I'll tell you my theory when we get back pls asap. Pete was always a bit paranoid, but not like this. Earlier on he was ranting about safety of our room and who could've eaten the pizza. He did suspect Mike and I, but he knows us better. But, if Pete really did have pizza in that refrigerator and it was missing while three of us were out, then truly we had a breach of security. I didn't find any plastic bags, but there were some old newspapers. Mike's bag was now leaking blue. I spread the newspapers on the backseats as I placed the bag on it, swearing I would drive a bit slower than usual. "We'd deal with the bag and Pete's pizza when we get back, Mike." I revved the engine, sighed, and thought about Jenny again."Oh Jen, if only you knew my secret."*** You dropped the room keys onto the floor in aghast. Your easel was flat on the ground with the painting, canvas side down. "Oh, please no." You lifted your painting up, praying that it was still intact.It was. Well, there was a smear of spaghetti sauce courtesy of Pete from last week, but you had no other inspiration for any new pieces at the time, so you told Pete that, "It's alright. In fact, thank you. This could be a new series! Food drawings with actual food on it." He apologised frantically.You turned around, only to find something else odd. The bedsheet was all wrinkled, the blanket was tossed onto the floor, and the pillowcase was... slightly ripped? You went in closer. "Goodness guys, who had nightmares yesterday? At least have the sense to make the b..." The scent hit you. It was faint, but it was there. The smell of your paint in the room masked it a little, but no doubt, it was there. Human perspiration. Sweat. But the sheets were washed Monday, no? Then something else hit you."For goodness sake, Andre! Did you bring that Jennifer girl back here?" Colour drained from your face as you stormed off. "I thought we had an agreement! This is our bed!" *** I stopped right outside the room, trying to make sense what was going on. "No, Mike, I did not bring Jenny back here! She doesn't know about us. Not yet." The pizza, the painting, the bed. Earlier on, I felt bloated so I didn't order cake at the cafe and Jenny followed suit. And then, for the whole day, I was irked by this slight nausea. Something weird was definitely going on here.  Pete said had a theory. With no other options in mind, I went back in. "Let's see what he has to say about this." *** Pete booted up the computer. The clues were all adding up. This was the most probable explanation. If only Mike and Andre would calm their butts for just a bit. His headache was getting worse. "Guys hold on. Just let me do this first. One sec..."On the desktop were folders, among others, labeled Andre, Michelangelo and Pete's ULTRAPRIVATESTUFFDONTOPEN. Pete double-clicked the folder labeled Us. He then opened a new document, labeling it with today's date.  Pete cracked his knuckles. "Let's do this."*** Hey guys, y'all here? Andre! You didn't bring the girl back here, right?  No of course not! She'd find out about us. That smart girl, Jenny. I don't have to remind you about situation, Dre. Things won't work out between you and her. Us and her. Chill people. Let's talk about this some other time. We have more pressing matters to discuss now. Oh, my poor pizza. I don't know what theory you have Pete, but we didn't eat your pizza. And I most certainly did not flush it down the loo. I am not daft. Yeah, I trust you guys. We've been together for how long? Twelve years? Only me and you, Pete. We met Sir Michelangelo five years ago. Ugh, drop it. Oh, yeah. Right. Five years. Pete, didn't you notice the chaos in our bed before you went out today? No. I only realised it just now with you guys. I guess I was too distraught about my pepperoni. Dre was in a rush to meet Jenny, too, right? Yes, I was. So, what's this theory you have? Let's hear it. Alright. Drum rolls, please! Just say it. We have a fourth roommate. Aw, hell naw. No way. I mean, it the most probable explanation, right? Only three of us have the key, there was no break in. Even if there was, why would a crook make a mess on the bed and eat pizza? Our money is right here in the desk, why didn't he take it? Maybe he was hungry? Hungry and angry so he messed up the bed. Mike, this is serious! And, Andre, remember when we first met Mike, we had this mild headache and nausea? Yeah, you're right. What, what happened when I came here?  We get headaches when we couldn't decide who would be 'on', or if one of us really wanted to get out to do something. But I thought we were way past that. So, what does that mean? Someone else is really...? Somebody wants to get out. And he wants to meet us. No, no, no, no, no. We have everything in delicate balance now. Our schedules are perfect. We each have our own time. We can't have someone else just barge into our lives just like th.. OH HI EVERYONE!!!! WHAT'S GOING ON WHAT'S UUUUUPPPPPP!!!! Uh, hi. Damn it. Where's my pizza? *** Wolfie was new here. Wolfie woke up one day and got hungry, so Wolfie went to the cold box and found this round thing in a square thing but it smelt good so Wolfie ate it. Wolfie became full so Wolfie wanted to sleep but the bed was so fun so Wolfie went boing boing boing on it till Wolfie was tired. Then, Wolfie realised there were other people in this room. Wolfie really wanted to be friends with them but didn't know how, so Wolfie tried his best to get out. Then suddenly, like magic, Wolfie could chat with Wolfie's new friends with the computer. Yay! They finally noticed Wolfie! Will they become Wolfie's best friends? ... Read more
By Gabriel H'ng in
Reader Points: 220
Editor Points: 33000
Rank: 211
Views: 965
Connect with us: