| Forums > General > "LOVE IN A STAVE - DISPLAY OF ESSAYS" (57 replies)
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Author: 狂然怪異
Posted: 3.2 years ago
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Due to low number of submissions HAHA, it's not quite difficult to show you guys the essays done by our dear members
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!slumber
!slumber
There are many names for your true love.
“Significant other”, “other half”, “soul mate”.
But to me, Dave was a soul mate, someone I loved ever since I was young. We were childhood sweethearts, Dave and I. Dave’s mother and my mother were the best or friends, and we often played together while our mothers met up. We were always up to mischief as our mothers got carried away chatting. Then as we got older, each of us changed, and we went our own ways. Dave’s family had moved to Australia, his father had been offered a job there. We no longer kept in touch.
Three years back, when I was eighteen, we met again. I was in Sydney, Australia, spending my time in university there. The last I heard of Dave and his family, they were still in Perth. I wanted a degree in doctor, and had failed the test in Singapore; thus my studying there. Coincidentally, I met Dave there, who was apparently studying for a doctor’s degree too. We would spent our studying time together. After a few months, we knew we’d fallen in love. He proposed to me soon after, and I had agreed.
“Jen.” I heard Dave calling my name, hoarsely. I was brought back to the present.
I was in the hospital, dying of 4th stage breast cancer. My grandmother had also died of cancer, so it was in my genes. We had both gotten our degrees in doctor, and spending our fifth year in marriage together already.
“Yes, baby?” I answered. I looked at him. He looked as if he was the one going to die, as if he were going through chemotherapy twice a week. He looked empty, lifeless.
“Promise me, find the will to live.” He plead.
“I… I promise.”
I felt sleepy, so my eyelids drooped. Dave hummed the song “Forever”, which he had sung and composed for me on our wedding day. It was the most meaningful tune, something I could recognize easily, I was attuned to it. He hummed it to me every night ever since we got married. I knew death was near now, and I had no regrets. I was content. Dave was my all, and it was selfish of me to hold him for so long, knowing I would die in the end. He should have the chance to fall in love again.
I drifted further into my sleep, the sound of Dave’s humming still clear and distinct. I was holding, in my hand, a letter to Dave. The last letter he’d possibly get from me. And then, as if my death were already planned, I fell into the deep sleep that I would never wake up from.
Dave, I love you, with all my heart. After everything, I know you love me too. But don’t be afraid to fall in love again, give yourself a chance.
Love, Jen.
===
ForThe!Wonder
The photo – it brought back so many unwanted memories, memories she thought she had locked away for good. She had spent months trying to erase everything that had happened from her mind, and finally, she had managed to heal from the heartbreak and the pain. Yet, all it took was one glance at the photo she had accidentally uncovered in her bedside drawer, and her defences broke down. Waves of sorrow crashed down upon her, as she remembered him - his broken promises, his betrayal. She remembered the songs he used to love to sing, and one in particular stood out.
A photo can say a thousand things
But it can't say the million things I wanna say
A photo can capture the way we were
But it can't capture the way we are
'Cause you're far away
What it's like to know you
What it's like to touch you
The lyrics rung true. Looking at the photo, she realised no one would have ever been able to predict what had happened to them. The photo captured her past, the past where everything had been perfect, where she had been deluded enough to take things for granted. He had been her perfect soul mate, the one who knew her inside out. She had loved him, and she had thought he did too. In the past, she could never have imagined her life without him.
That non-existent life had suddenly become a reality.
She remembered that fateful day - she had called him on his cell phone when a female voice had answered impatiently, “Hello?”
She had frozen in shock, rooted to the ground, as she pressed the phone to her ear, waiting in denial. In the background, she had heard a voice, a familiar voice she could recognise anywhere, “It’s probably a prank call, come on back here.” There had been sounds of laughter, then – nothing. Her knees had given away at last, and she had sunk to the floor in despair.
She had confronted him, and he had confirmed it. He had stomped on her heart and her dreams, and made a mess of her life. She had walked away with a bleeding heart, with angry tears leaking out of her eyes.
When you told me that you loved me
were those just words
You can't tell me you don't need me
and I know that hurts
'Cause I'm looking at your picture
'Cause it's all I've got
Maybe one day
You and me will have one more shot
She wondered how long he had been cheating on her. Were any of the things he told her true? Maybe he had been lying all along when he said he loved her. She wondered. She wished that it had all been a nightmare, that he would still come back to her, that she wouldn’t have to spend her life without him. She knew such a thing was impossible.
Then she realised the awful truth. She would never get over him. She could hide all her pain and sorrow, but they would always be there in one corner of her heart, waiting to re-emerge again, whenever something triggered her memories. There was no way to hide from him. He would always come back to haunt her in her everyday life, and in her dreams.
She needed a door to a different life, the life that she would have lived, had she not met him. She needed to escape his shadow. The answer clicked in her mind, and she knew what she had to do. Entering her parents’ room, she opened the bottom drawer of her father’s dresser and took out the Glock lying inside. She went back into her room and stared at the gun for a long while. This would be her ticket to escape her nightmare of a life, and she would finally be able to leave him behind her. She was sure of her course. She lifted the gun to her head, and smiled.
Then there was a shot.
===
j0AnNe
He was my best friend, my favourite “hugging machine”, and the only one who gave me a helping hand on the first day of high school. His parents were famous composers, and he had inherited that gift. The gift I had always longed for. Sometimes I even felt jealous of him. He was so lucky in so many ways – he was rich, he was well-bred and he was talented. He even had a job, playing the piano in a grand hotel somewhere.
He was the one who taught me to play the piano; my dream ever since I was a young child, and he had helped me fulfilled it. I came from a poor family, with parents who could barely afford to send me for piano lessons. He was my life-saver. It feels so weird to think that just a month ago he had been by my side while I sat on the piano stool trying my best to play Canon in D.
“Come on, Eloise. Curve your fingers, don’t get distracted…”
I couldn’t do it. My fingers slipped off the keys. At that point, I was so frustrated I just wanted to blame the shiny black piano’s keys for being so… stiff. But I thought twice and decided to stop pushing the blame around.
“I can’t do it.”
“Yes you can. Remember what I told you?”
I sighed. “I know, I know, there’s no such thing as ‘can’t’.”
“So keep trying, and eventually you will succeed.”
He had always been extremely patient with me. Every Monday we would meet up at his apartment and he would begin the lesson. He would demonstrate the piece we were about to play once first, and then he would coach me. He laughed at the way I drew crotchet notes and called them lollipops. In college, we were teased and proclaimed a couple, but in truth, we were just best friends. I treated him like my big brother. There was never any romance. But I can confidently say I loved him.
Jake had been struggling with leukemia for some time now, no matter how well he had seemed to me. And just two weeks ago, he died. It was such a painful day. I couldn’t accept it at first. I yelled at his parents, accusing them of lying to me. But after a while, I knew they were telling the truth, and I broke down and cried my heart out all night.
For two days after Jake’s funeral, I stayed home all day practicing Canon in D over and over again until it was perfect. I had succeeded. Jake would be proud of me.
“Eventually you will succeed.”
These words still ring every so often in my head. And I had made it come true.
===
LolariousBrillance
"...?"
I stopped in my tracks. It was that familiar tune. The one that Mama used to play.
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"MAMA!" I yelled as I padded into the kitchen. I ran to the familiar figure and latched my 5-year-old body onto her leg. "Mama, let's go play the piano today!"
My mother looked down at me with her beautiful sky-blue eyes. Those eyes which I had inherited and took pride in. "Not now, honey, I'm making dinner," she replied in that affable tone of voice I loved so much. I pouted. "Please...?" I replied. However, I knew that in the end, Mama would always give in to me. Mama looked at me and stared right into my eyes. "Alright," she said and I gave her the biggest grin I could managed. She switched off the stove and led me into the living room, where our grand piano was.
Mama had received it from one of our relatives who had moved away. It had been there even before I was born and I'd spent my childhood just sitting on the floor, listening to Mama playing the piano. "Now, what would you like me to play today?" Mama asked as she settled down onto the soft piano chair. I thought for awhile. "The...um...Camera Indeed!" I said, quite pleased at myself for remembering my favourite music piece's name. My mum let out a chuckle. "It's Canon In D, not Camera Indeed. Very well," she replied and started playing.
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Slowly, I inched forward towards the door of the Music Room. I couldn't deny it; I was half expecting my mother to appear in my school's Music Room, playing that oh so familiar tune that I loved. Although there was a part of me that reasoned that that was out of the question, I still had to see for myself. I put my face close to the glass panel on the door and used my hands to cup my face so as to block the light out. My heart sank. It was just some random student practicing.
I inevitably let out a sigh of disappointment as I made my way out towards the school gates. Mama had left when I was 11 years old, leaving only a single letter of contrite apologies and explanations.
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To my Darling Princess,
I'm so sorry I have to leave. I know I'm probably going to cause you lots of heartaches but I'm sure that when you grow up you'll understand why Mama had to go. As you know, your dad and I are going through a divorce right now and the law states that we have to live separately for awhile. I'm really sorry I can't bring you along with me, but I'm going to live at your Aunt Mariam's house for the time-being and there simply isn't any space for an extra person. I'm very, very sorry, honey. I promise I'll come back for you some day, OK? For now, please be a very good girl and listen to your father. He's not having it any easier than me, so I want you to bear with his temper for the time being, alright? Thank you, darling. I promise I'll come back for you, I really will. I love you.
Love,
Mama
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I took out my key and inserted it into the keyhole. I wondered about the promise Mama had made in that letter. Why had she even bothered to make it? I hadn't received a single call or letter from her ever since that first and last letter. I'd always yearned to see those familiar blue eyes at school events, ballet recitals, Sports Day...and yet...
I closed the door and locked it. Dad was still at work during that time of day, so I had the whole house to myself. I went up to my room and changed into more comfortable clothes. As I walked past my stereo on the way on, I suddenly stopped in front of it. 'Maybe just once,' I thought to myself. I opened the CD case that I had chucked haphazardly next to my stereo and put it into the stereo.
I plopped down onto my bed as the music started playing. Canon In D was still my favourite music piece, after all these years. I closed my eyes and just completely relaxed.
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"Mummy, teach me how to play Canon In D!" I said as I ran over to the piano. I pulled out the piano bench and sat on it. "Not now, darling," Mama said in this weird voice, kind of like she was struggling to get the words out. "Mama? What's wrong?" I asked, but she just shook her head and headed up to her room.
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I must have fallen asleep for quite awhile, because the next thing I knew, the orange sunlight of the evening sun was shining through my windowpanes. I sat up and stretched for while before pressing "Eject" on my stereo. I slowly made my way down to the living room. The coat rack was still bare and empty, meaning that Dad wasn't home yet. Just as I was about to heat up some TV dinner, there were three precise and clear knocks on the door. "Coming!" I said as I ran over and opened the door. "May I help-" I paused mid-sentence.
I stared straight into those blue eyes. Those oh-so familiar yet so distant pair of clear, blue eyes.
"Mama?"
THE END
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maskeraid.!
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place,
suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace.
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste;
it all revolves around you.
I recall the day of your birth with fondness; the way your cries penetrated the walls of the delivery room to the waiting area outside, where I was looking forward to the doctor’s happy news. When I could finally enter the room, I remember dashing to your mother’s side and pecking her on her forehead before I started playing with you. You grabbed my finger with your tiny hand that day; I remember it because the world stood still for that one minute, while you had me entranced by your innocent gaze.
You were the most beautiful baby girl I’d ever laid my eyes on, and I was so proud of having the honour of being your father. Your mother’s name was Ruby, so I thought it apt to name you Violet.
And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide
Sing out this song and I'll be there by your side.
Storm clouds may gather, stars may collide;
but I love you until the end of time.
You used to cry a lot when you were growing up. I supposed that was to be expected; you were born with a slight touch of autism after all, I should have known from the pamphlets that change affected you more than anyone else. Even though I was impatient at times and struck at you unnecessarily in spates of anger, parts of me tried to reign in my temper for your sake. The other parts just refused to acknowledge the fact that you, of all the children in the world, were autistic. Compounded with the fact that I had no preconceived notion on how to raise girls, I assumed it was the same as raising a boy, which explains my strict discipline –my reign of terror- over you.
This is not what I intended
I always swore to you I'd never fall apart
you always thought that I was stronger
I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start.
I admit I turned into a paranoid maniac during your early teenage years; with your mother’s unexpected death and my retrenchment, it was hard to be three people at once: a mother, a father and a breadwinner. One of the only things I was relieved off at that time was that you were officially diagnosed as cleared of autism. I knew you were trying to help by wanting to find a part time job but I just didn’t want to let you. I led you into thinking it was due to arrogance just so that you wouldn’t go ahead, and I remember your screaming fits over this matter. The truth was that I didn’t let you go ahead simply because I wanted to provide the easiest life for you that I could, and I didn’t want you to suffer with me.
I suppose it was then when I started losing you. You fell in with the wrong crowd in time and you indulged in all the things I should be protecting you from – alcohol, drugs and promiscuity. Oh, you thought you hid it well away from me but I wouldn’t have found out if I didn’t swallow your ecstasy pills thinking they were painkillers, or stumbling across the stash of condoms in your room when I was cleaning it. The only reason why I never confronted you about it was because I didn’t want to lose you any further than I already had.
I would hold you in my arms; I would take the pain away.
Thank you for all you've done, forgive all your mistakes.
There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again.
Sometimes I want to call you but I know you won't be there.
You filled my heart with despair that fateful Monday evening when I returned from work only to find you gone. As if the wound wasn’t deep enough, the three simple words you scrawled on your mirror only succeeded in plunging the knife deeper. I spent the rest of that night, as well as subsequent nights for the next two months, searching for you until 4 a.m. in the morning. When I wasn’t looking for you, I’d be crying in your room while looking through photographs of the ghost of our past happiness, while hoping the police would call with good news any minute. I didn’t care about anything else anymore; I just wanted my baby angel found.
And when no hope was left in sight
on that starry, starry night,
you took your life, as lovers often do.
My heart broke on my 40th birthday when the police called to announce that you were found dead in a motel room. You were only 16 when you swallowed that fatal mix of ecstasy and sleeping pills. Every subsequent day would pass with me drowning in more and more regret. I would tell myself over and over again that I should have been a better father; that I should have tried to get you to kick the habit… I rebuked myself to sleep every night.
I'm sorry for blaming you
for everything I just couldn't do
and I've hurt myself by hurting you.
Two butterflies, one a shining ruby red, the other a perfect violet hue, pass by the window chasing each other in a gaily waltz. And I notice all this as I close my eyes for the last time on my death bed, while my last hope is to see you two in heaven.
Would you know my name
if I saw you in heaven?
Will it be the same
if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong, and carry on
cause I know I don't belong
here in heaven.
===
//& tessa *
My bare feet constantly brushed against the cold, hard cement floor. Sticky bodies bumped into mine from all directions and moans dominated the airwaves. I flung my arms everywhere, hoping to find something to sit on or at least a wall to lean against. But the only things that my arms came into contact with were bodies, filthy ragged bodies. I let out a weak sigh and felt my knees buckle under the sheer weight of my haggard self. I landed with a heavy thud on the dirty floor and pulled my skimpy, bedraggled clothes tighter around me, afraid that I’d die from all the shivering.
I slowly closed my eyes as exhaustion washed over me, slowly recalling what lead to my arrest.
I’ve had a little bit too much, much
All the people start to rush, start to rush by
How does he twist the dance? Can’t find a drink, oh man
Loud, hypnotic beats pumped through the gigantic speakers of Club  ance, sending numerous pulses through the dance floor. Disco lights flashed in all directions over the club, highlighting everything it touched. The bar was jam packed with drunkards, always ordering their “last” glass for the night. I fought my way through the crowd and made it to the glass counter top.
“Vodka and lime please, Tim,” I was a regular, and before I could even place my order, Timothy, the bartender was already stirring up my drink.
“Alone, Madisonne? Here you go,” Tim grinned as he gently laid my drink on the counter top.
“I’m never alone, Tim. You know that! The crowd follows me wherever I go,” I let a giggle escape from my mouth as I took my glass, slapped a ten dollar bill in its place and stalked off.
What’s going on on the floor?
I love this record baby but I can’t see straight anymore
Keep it cool, what’s the name of this club?
I can’t remember but it’s alright, a-alright
I slumped myself into my usual booth at the back end of the club and sipped my drink. As I set my glass back down, a lean figure slipped into the empty seat beside me.
“What will it be tonight, Maddy?” Desmond asked in a baritone voice.
“Hmm, how about some Ice? It’s been about a week since I’ve last had it,” I reached into my glittery handbag and fished out my wallet.
“Sure, Maddy. No problem. The usual number yeah,” Desmond mimicked my actions but produced five packets of Ice instead.
“Thanks, Des. You’re a lifesaver,” I pushed a few fifty dollar notes into his hands as I slipped out of the booth.
“Anything for you my dear, anything,” I glanced a smirk on his face in my peripheral vision as he too, slipped out of the booth stealthily.
I had to fight through another wall of bodies to make it to the ladies’ at the other end of the room. When I finally arrived at my destination, I wasted no time in finding an empty cubicle and locked myself in its tiny constraint. I groped my bag, desperately trying to find the precious packets of Ice. Something cold and soft came into contact with my fingers and I pulled it out. Transparent, crystal chunks stared back at me as I instantly felt awake. I emptied the whole packet into my mouth and felt my head go all light. I took the remaining four packets and stuffed them into a hidden pocket in my top. I stumbled out of the cubicle, out of the toilet and on to the dance floor.
Just dance, gonna be okay
Just dance, spin the record babe
Just dance, gonna be okay
Dance, dance, just, j-j-just, dance
Drugs may give me the high I need, but what took it to the next level was music. I lost my mind as I let the music flow through me, through every vein and organ. I flung myself in all directions and laughed out loud. I had no idea what I was doing, but I didn’t care.
Wish I could shut my playboy mouth
How’d I turn my shirt inside out? Inside outright
Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say
And we’re all getting hosed tonight
I bumped my body into whose ever body was next to mine. I swung my head left and right, up and down. A few women shot me angry and irritated looks, but I took no notice. I was just concentrating on the music.
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, it’s symphonic
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, electronic
The beat of the music got louder and louder, and slowly it started ringing too loudly in my ears. I instinctively covered my ears with my hands, but the throbbing seemed to be stuck in my head. The room started spinning around and around and my vision blurred ever so slightly. Suddenly, a piercing scream broke the party atmosphere.
“Everyone run! The police are here! Run! Run!!” I didn’t hear this, like I said, all I could hear was the music.
I released my ears and let my arms fall slack.
Just dance, gonna be okay
Just dance, spin the record babe
Just dance, gonna be okay
Dance, dance, just, j-j-just, dance
I had no idea what my body was doing, all I did was to listen to the music, let it control me. This was the main reason why I only get high in clubs – only they have loud and powerful enough music to satisfy my needs.
A pair of big, sturdy hands suddenly clasped on my shoulders, preventing me from letting my hair down. The whole world stopped for a heart beat – I saw people frozen in their respective positions, I couldn’t hear the music I was so addicted to, I couldn’t feel the drugs I love pulse through me, and I felt as if nothing was holding me down.
Then it all came crashing down. My head had that horrible feeling again, as if the music was ten times louder than it already was and all the sound was trapped in my skull. A horrible, vile liquid started climbing up my throat and the room starting spinning awfully fast. My shoulders were aching too from all the weight those hands were putting on my frail frame.
Metal handcuffs bit into my wrists as the hands that were on my shoulder swept both my hands behind my back in one fluid movement.
“Follow me, Miss. And don’t you dare try anything funny, you’ll never get away with it,” A gruff voice breathed into my ear.
Before I had time to respond, I was being dragged unwillingly on my heels through the club to the main entrance. I wanted to fight back, talk back, do anything, but I simply did not have any energy left. I felt so hopeless, so small and useless. I began to weep – big, fat, salty tears streamed endlessly down my cheeks. Before I knew it, I was thrown hastily into the back of a police van.
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, it’s symphonic
Half psychotic, sick, hypnotic
Got my blueprint, electronic
The city passed me in a blur of sound and lights. I was thrown around the van as it went over uneven road and blue blacks were beginning to form. Slowly the throbbing went away as the Ice lost its effect, but I felt worse. I wanted more, I needed more Ice.
The van screeched to a halt and the doors flung open. Another pair of burly hands that seized me was the brusque welcome I received at the station. Once again, I was dragged through the automatic glass sliding doors of the station and into an interrogation room.
I was pushed into a plastic chair in front of an oak table while someone else shoved a table light in my face and switched it on.
“Ouch! What the hell! Switch it off,” I turned my head away swiftly and made a “tsk” sound.
“You better not complain, Miss Madisonne. You’re in a hell of a lot trouble. Tell me, what were you doing at the club just now?” Officer Andy, according to his nametag, bore at me with sharp gleaming eyes.
“What else can I do? Having a nice drink and dancing to the greatest music ever,” I smirked at him and enjoyed immensely watching his face turn a deeper shade of red with every passing second.
“Could you then explain why you were seen buying drugs from a particular Desmond at 2200 hours?” It was his turn to have the upper hand.
“You must be mistaken, officer, I wouldn’t do such a thing,” I tried my very best to pull off the most convincing puppy eyes.
“So you’re saying that you have an identical twin eh, Miss Madisonne?” He slipped several shots of Desmond and I having the exchange, and several close ups of me.
Before I could say “I am screwed”, Officer Andy ordered one of his men to escort me to the washroom.
“Take this and be quick,” He removed my handcuffs and jabbed a small transparent plastic container into my hands.
“Oh my god,” I thought to myself, I’d never clear the urine test. I reluctantly stumbled into the toilet and made my way to the nearest cubicle.
Go! Use your muscle, carve it out, work it, hustle
I got it, just stay close enough to get it
Don’t slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it
Spend the latso
The second I stepped out of the washroom, I was once again handcuffed by deft hands and the container was rudely snatched from me. As usual, I was pulled across the floor towards the end of a narrow corridor of which stood several metal bars parallel to each other. The guy took off my handcuffs and thrust me into the cell.
“Enjoy,” He gave an evil laugh before slamming the wrought iron gates in my face.
I turned around and that’s how I got myself here. My buttock was starting to ache from sitting on the adamantine floor and I was shaking uncontrollably. I’d never survive in jail, I can’t and I won’t. I’d simply die without drugs and music. That’s when it hit me. I will die eventually. It was just a matter of where and when. I smiled to myself as I realized all my previous worrying was for nothing.
I clumsily tried to find the hidden pocket in my top. When I finally did after what seemed like an eternity, I found the packets of Ice I stored away. I emptied and swallowed the contents of all four bags at breakneck speed, then took a final glance at the apathetic people surrounding me.
I closed my eyes as I removed burden by burden from my mind and body. Slowly but surely, I felt lighter, happier and most important of all, free.
“I’ll have no regrets for falling in love with drugs and music, no regret at all,” I told myself as I drew a final breath and collapsed on the floor.
The End
Acknowledgements
Song: Just Dance – Lady Gaga
Lyrics: www.metrolyrics.com/just-dance-lyrics-lady-gaga.html
===
thesockparody (A series of firsts)
The first time she saw him, it was at the playground.
She sees the pain in his eyes.
His messy auburn chestnut hair that looked tantalizingly beautiful enhanced his features – making him appear mature for his age.
And the pain compliments his look.
It was as if it was always meant to be there.
She blinks, but never looks away – oblivious to the stares that the adults were giving her.
She knew that she wanted to understand him more.
She wanted to understand his pain.
The first time he saw her, it was with her friends.
He sees the fiery passion in her eyes.
Her sweeping ocean blue hair made her look extremely graceful.
He knows that she was watching him.
He was always tempted to approach her, and understand why, just why she would take an interest in someone like him.
But he never did.
Perhaps it was cowardice? Or maybe, just maybe…
He did not want to put out the passion in her eyes.
The first time she hears him speak, was at the grocery stall.
His voice was deep and gravelly, with a hint of maturity in it.
It was just like his appearance.
So mature.
So perfect.
And she wanted more of it.
The first time he hears her sing, was along the streets.
It was enchanting.
Simply just… enchanting.
And he, the helpless slave to her voice, was captivated.
At that time, he made an uncharacteristic choice in that moment.
He spoke to her.
The first time she speaks to him, was when she finished singing.
He had just walked up to her, with that indifferent look of his.
Unconsciously, her heart skipped a beat.
Unconsciously, she let out a deep breath.
Unconsciously, she clenched her fists.
She was nervous in meeting him, and as incredulous as that sounded, it was true.
So, she smiled.
And she let him do the talking.
The first time he had ever felt so nervous, was simply the first time he was with her.
Alone.
They had coincidentally bumped into each other on the streets.
And when I say bumped, I mean literally – bumped.
She was running for her life, when she spotted him.
As he saw the scene unfurling before his very eyes, he knew that he had to protect her.
Those thieves, chasing after her, running… running… running…
So monotonous, so mechanical – as if it was a part of their lives.
She had become a part of his life.
And just as he had to protect himself and his life, he had to protect her.
So he got ready to fight.
The first time she ever felt so frightened, was when she was with him.
It was when he fought for her.
While she just crouched there, huddled in a corner, too petrified to even move.
Too frightened to even help him.
But as she gazed at the scene in front of her, he seemed to be effortlessly fighting them.
She knew she was in safe hands.
The first time he ever defied anyone, was when her parents disapproved of him.
No, this was wrong, he thought.
He had to be with her, it was an unwritten rule that he had included in his life.
His mother once told him that you had to fight for the girl that you like.
And so, he fought – or more appropriately, negotiated.
He had to win.
And he would.
The first time she had ever broken the rules, was at night.
She was in her bed, when he threw stones outside her window.
So Romeo and Juliet style, she thought amusedly.
Still, she answered his call.
Walking towards the balcony, she slowly lowered herself down.
And as they met in the garden at night, they knew time was ticking.
But they knew that no matter what, it didn’t matter as long as they were together.
It did’t matter at all.
The first time he ever dared try something out of his mind, was when he wanted to hear her sing.
When she met him at night at the very same playground where they first met, he simply grabbed her hand and beckoned for her to follow him.
He did not know if she would even understand what he wanted to do.
Nor did he know if she would even agree to it.
Still, he did it anyway.
Passing twists and turns, he finally brought her to a particular street.
It was the street where he first saw her sing.
The first time she ever got confused, was when he was pulling her so harshly.
She did not know what had gotten into him, but her heart told her to trust him.
And so, she followed on.
She followed her heart.
She followed him.
But as soon as she saw the street, she immediately knew what he wanted.
Smiling that beautiful smile of hers, she opened her mouth.
She began to sing.
For him.
And only for him.
And so, their series of firsts would end someday, when the routine of their lives finally kicks in.
But they know, that their song would continue playing on.
Their song would continue playing on.
===
unholycress (Sorry, I forgot.)
If only,
If anything, I thought my life to be a dime in a dozen. Excogitating I was a commonplace adolescent in the midst of battling puberty. Juggling school, family and friends. Dealing with stress, examinations and studies. Boiling others behind their backs with people I libeled as “friends”. Acting ignorant and rebellious when being carped at.
All these seemed to be thoughts I would have until I reached quietus. Until the moment when I would cease to exist, I thought, my life was normal.
I could remember
The prosaic alarm jingle came on. I trundled unto my side, reached out a weary arm and snagged the snooze button. I slouched up, trying to pry open my heavyweight eyelids. After finally summoning sufficient strength, I slid off my bed and droopily trudged towards the toilet, bone-tired.
The frosty tap water felt wonderful on my skin. It took a ton off my eyelids and had me ravenous. The usual Saturday morning breakfast, Jean’s delectable ham and cheese. Just the thought of the toasted delight made me salivate. I skipped down the auburn oak stairs and settled in my usual seat at the dining table.
I chirped a cheery “Good Morning!” only to receive echoes of my very own voice from inside of me. I finally took notice of the intense atmosphere, impatience palpable in everyone’s actions. Did something horrible happen?
In any case, my appetite was reduced to scraps. I needed to get out of this dreadful place, to escape from this barrier of repugnance. I promptly stood up, announced I was going for a stroll in the nearby park and made a beeline for the main door.
You.
The gentle spring breeze blew and tossed my hair around in carefree abandon as a cloud mercifully shielded me from the blistering Sun. As I strolled along the park, passers-by who spotted me began giving me sympathetic smiles.
What was going on? I slumped unto a park bench and closed my eyes for a moment. Everybody was acting peculiar today. April the fifth, my birthday. It’s my birthday today. Did nobody remember? I let out a reverential sigh, and laid down on the welcoming bench, drifting off into a light sleep.
And see
“Joan, Wake up!” I squinted to see who had interrupted my temporal amity. It was my brother, Joe. “Hey, what’s up?” His voice felt like sunshine after a rainy day. I sat up to give him space, and snuggled back down unto his lap. Joe of all people would understand. He was always there for me. His smile seemed to brighten up my days. With him, I knew not the meaning of sibling rivalry. What would I ever do if I lost him? What would I ever do should he someday leave? He always made troubles seem far away. He was like the trusty door of the little room in my heart, the one that provided security, the one that protected me with utmost love and concern.
He began humming a lullaby Jean had always sung to us when we were toddlers. It was our all-time favourite. Joe and I would always sing it together. Although he began going out of tune when his voice began breaking. That was when he stopped singing it altogether and only agreed to hum it to my singing. I grinned and sang softly along, “Sleep now, little one. Sleep when the blue moon rises. Wipe away your little frown, for tomorrow will be filled with surprises…”
Suddenly, his smile morphed into a frown, creasing his handsome features. His legs began to turn charcoal black, as if rotting and blood streamed down his eyes. I stared goggle-eyed with a level of horror and was stunned into speechlessness. As my screams pierced the air, and my tears streamed down my face like the Mississippi, Joe was as if consumed by the flames of hell right before my very eyes.
I felt like the bottom had just fallen out of my world, and I was at a complete loss. “Joe, don’t go.”
That beautiful face
I rose from the bench with my heart racing and cold sweat dripping down my chin unto my over-sized black American Exchange shirt, which was Joe’s. Was that a dream? Thank goodness it was a dream. What would I do if Joe were gone? What would I do if…
The fright I received from that ghastly dream had not vanished. I got up and sprinted in the first direction my body felt obliged to go. Sweat began beading all over and my legs trembled uncontrollably. I was quaking inside.
Of yours
An intrinsic bridge came into sight. Puzzled, I scurried up to see Jean sobbing in John’s arms. Why was my mother crying? John was attempting to console her, to no avail. Jean must have spotted me for she ran over and began hitting me, trying to say something over loud sobs. “Murderer!” was all I could pick out. Murderer? Me?
John grabbed Jean and cast a look toward a flower patch the bridge was overlooking, as if signaling for me to go look. I hurried over and my heart cringed at what I saw.
The flowers were in full bloom and they were breathtaking. They spelt out the words, “Happy Birthday, Joan.” I twirled back and asked, “Who?” At this question, Jean sobbed even harder as John managed to squeeze out, “Joe.”
I was utterly confused. “Where is he?” I was now desperate to know what was going on. I was sinking every moment. Sorrow was like quick sand, constantly pulling me into its fiery grasps. An indescribable desolation swept over me when Jean screamed, “He is dead! Dead!”
Pictures and words began flooding into my head, memories of my favourite lullaby, memories of Joe, memories. And the final memory, one that showed me possibly the biggest fear buried in the depths of my heart.
A fire had started in the old “playroom” Joe and I had set up in the gardening shed behind our house on my tenth birthday, April the fifth. Desperate to save the antediluvian recording tape of our favourite lullaby, I cast away all cares, blocked out the worried cries from my worried family and rushed into the collapsing childhood wonder.
When I got my hands on the precious tape, the fire had devoured everything. The flaming planks of what used to be the roof of the shed threatened to fall onto me. Just at that moment, Joe rushed in and covered me in his muscular body, in the body that I would never embrace for warmth, for security, again.
His last words, I vowed never to forget, “Hey Joan, what’s up? Seems like you got the tape. Great job.” He died for all our precious childhood memories, he died for our favourite lullaby, he died, for me.
I collapsed when the vague words I had overheard at the hospital floated in, “I am terribly sorry Mrs. Trent. I’m fear the worst for Joan. The loss of her brother was too great and has triggered an a chain reaction, leading to amnesia. I’m afraid that she might never recover her memory.”
For four whole years, four years, I had forgotten the lullaby, our lullaby. I’d forgotten Joe. I’d forgotten the sacrifice he made for our memories, our happiness, for me. “Sorry Joe, sorry.”
Summoning all my strength, I looked up, and for a horrifying moment, I thought I saw an alabaster white figure behind my sobbing mother, flashing me the warmest smile I’ve ever seen, humming that ever-so-beautiful tune. “Happy Birthday, Joan.”
Once again
Edited 3.2 years ago. |
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Woahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. @.@
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Shoots, my essay for display again! D: -hides face in shame-
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awesomeeeeee!
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@.@ I'm dizzy. Those essays are simply fabulous!
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i thought maskeraid.! 's was the best
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-shy shy-
No lar, I not that good lar...
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Yea, maskeraid.!'s rule.
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Thumbs up.
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They're so touching.
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Eeek. -hides from embarrassment-
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Why?
It's not as if your story very lame!
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But it is!
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Everyone's good lah 
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My name is missing for my essay D:
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Author: 狂然怪異
Posted: 3.2 years ago
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SHIT! REALLY
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Yeah, Lolarious' one is the one with the Camera Indeed.
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XDD Thanks!
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Author: 狂然怪異
Posted: 3.2 years ago
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noprob hahas
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omg i cried at maskeraid.! 's. it was really good.
and Camera Indeed!!!!
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Awwww, really? Cos I don't think mine's that good, I wrote it while having a writer's block. XP
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OMG CAROLYN HOW DO YOU WRITE LIKE THAT D:
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I think maskeraid.! 's was the best
unholycress you've got good vocab but it's cheem to the point that you kinda use words wrongly. :/ "Intrinsic bridge" for one...
I liked //& tessa *'s too! Lady GaGa, how unique, hehe ^^ But I felt that it could have been given a deeper meaning apart from the narrator's love for drugs. And the first scene was freaky, it was like she was in some grave or something O_O
Please don't take offence at what I've said, these are just my comments (:
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FT!W, just barely? The only thing that kept me writing was the deadline, to be honest : P
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I actually agree with Hasegawa-San
If I'm not wrong you're Karen, right?
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Which one are you talking to? LOL. XD
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Lol thankz for the comments lovelies will work on it
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God I suck this so embarrassing.
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All of us were good in our own ways lah X)
I originally wanted to write mine as a father-abuse-daughter story then the story wrote itself even when I had a writer's block...
I dunno how to explain. XP
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Lol today sucks manzxz.
Ehm, sorry completely irrelevant.
(:
Yay congrats Carolyn!
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Lol. Haven't even win yet : P
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We all know you gonna win la lol
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-shy shy-
XD You'll never know what's in the minds of the judges. (Besides Doraemon for Jeremy.)
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Lol @ maskeraid
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True what : P
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Author: 狂然怪異
Posted: 3.2 years ago
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woywoywoy maskeraid what did choo say!
haha jialormee is not that kind of unporhfairshornal judge hor!!!
ROFL
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Doraemon heart pain liao! Cos you make it seem like he's not on your mind for once!
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._. Lol
When are we getting the full results may I so rudely ask
Edited 3.2 years ago. |
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Author: 狂然怪異
Posted: 3.2 years ago
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doraemon doesn't have a heart maskeraid as you can see from his anatomy belowwww :
sorry tessa im really sorry but honestly it's not within my control that ernest and helena post the results, so let's just wait for them. im really sorry, i posted this results up to satisfy u guys temporarily. looks like this satisfaction is expiring ~~~
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Omg you guys damn good at essays. I failed essay once this year.
'''!!!
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The essays were wanderhool!
Why doesn't doraemon has a heart? o_o
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