The hour of darkness continues. Here's the continuation of the way-too-short Chapter 11 I complained about previously.
Pray that my computer will get well soon. =)
Bye!
Monday, January 31, 2005
The Secret Room, 11th Chapter (b)
Suddenly Mrs. Banks' cell phone went off and she excused herself. Some kids standing nearer to her cringed as her booming voice reverberated round the floor.
"CHILDREN!" she cupped her hands round her mouth after the call ended. "I'll be going downstairs to sort some stuff out, stay where you are! Stella will look after you guys."
Will frowned deeply as she scurried off to the staircase. Already Stella was about to finish handing out the brushes, while most of the kids were huddling together talking amongst themselves.
He swallowed hard. Heart beating fast not unlike a young man about to ask a girl out on a date, he crept slowly towards her.
"Um...Stella?"
"Oh, hi Will!" she turned around and smiled at him. "You almost frightened me. So what's up?"
He giggled a little, talking with one of the nice ladies always made him do that. Then his face turned serious.
"I...I have something to ask you."
"Yah?"
"Welllllll..." he pursed his lips. Do it! Do it! his mind screamed.
"Can you tell me more about the Secret Room?"
There. He said it.
"CHILDREN!" she cupped her hands round her mouth after the call ended. "I'll be going downstairs to sort some stuff out, stay where you are! Stella will look after you guys."
Will frowned deeply as she scurried off to the staircase. Already Stella was about to finish handing out the brushes, while most of the kids were huddling together talking amongst themselves.
He swallowed hard. Heart beating fast not unlike a young man about to ask a girl out on a date, he crept slowly towards her.
"Um...Stella?"
"Oh, hi Will!" she turned around and smiled at him. "You almost frightened me. So what's up?"
He giggled a little, talking with one of the nice ladies always made him do that. Then his face turned serious.
"I...I have something to ask you."
"Yah?"
"Welllllll..." he pursed his lips. Do it! Do it! his mind screamed.
"Can you tell me more about the Secret Room?"
There. He said it.
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Writer's Block
Hey, sure you know something is wrong when I don't update my blog for like, 6 days or so without any prior notice. Yeap, you guessed right! My computer is down with some fancy computer virus-sy problem, which will probably require some computer expert-ty guy to come fix. And yes, I DO know what anti-virus software is.
Therefore, I'm now posting from the library at college, just in time before my 2.15 class. On a Saturday. Life tastes gooood...so gooood.
Do ignore the ridiculously short Chapter 11, will extend it a little more. Yeah, I was running late for my 2.30 class. What? 2.15? OH, SHOOT!!!!
GTG NOW, BYE!!!!
Therefore, I'm now posting from the library at college, just in time before my 2.15 class. On a Saturday. Life tastes gooood...so gooood.
Do ignore the ridiculously short Chapter 11, will extend it a little more. Yeah, I was running late for my 2.30 class. What? 2.15? OH, SHOOT!!!!
GTG NOW, BYE!!!!
The Secret Room, 11th Chapter
As they were handed their brushes and paints, Will twitched even more nervously than ever. Jimmy felt that he shouldn't approach Stella, while Jan thought otherwise. And it didn't help that the Secret Room wasn't far away.
"Here you go, Jack." The line inched closer to Stella.
She was a thin, waify girl in her early twenties. Not exactly the sort who would stand out in a crowd, but there was this subdued confidence she exuded. Or was it just his imagination?
"Will?" Stella pushed a brush into his hand. "You there?"
"Uh..yeah."
"Good, just checking. Next."
He was about to make way for the next child, but just couldn't. His feet refused to budge.
"Erm...Will? You've had your brush, haven't you? Now go get your paints from Mrs. Banks."
"Ehh..." Darn! Now his mouth refused to budge.
"Move it, kid." Dave, a not-so-friendly boy three years older than Will pushed him aside.
Reluctantly he joined the other kids to line up for paints, cursing himself for not just blurting out the question. At the same time however, he felt kind of glad that he didn't ask it.
"Here you go, Jack." The line inched closer to Stella.
She was a thin, waify girl in her early twenties. Not exactly the sort who would stand out in a crowd, but there was this subdued confidence she exuded. Or was it just his imagination?
"Will?" Stella pushed a brush into his hand. "You there?"
"Uh..yeah."
"Good, just checking. Next."
He was about to make way for the next child, but just couldn't. His feet refused to budge.
"Erm...Will? You've had your brush, haven't you? Now go get your paints from Mrs. Banks."
"Ehh..." Darn! Now his mouth refused to budge.
"Move it, kid." Dave, a not-so-friendly boy three years older than Will pushed him aside.
Reluctantly he joined the other kids to line up for paints, cursing himself for not just blurting out the question. At the same time however, he felt kind of glad that he didn't ask it.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
Writer's Block: Paper Frogs
Three paper frogs
Sat and talked.
"What do we do?
Now that we're here."
"We should jump,"
Said one frog.
"That's what frogs
Do all the time."
"Why should we?"
Asked another.
"We seem fine
Just sitting here."
"I have heard,"
The third frog quipped.
"That to jump
Is to be free
For eternity."
The frogs frowned.
"How do we jump?"
"Who can we ask?"
"Why should we jump?"
"I wish to jump,"
Said the first frog.
"By all means,
I will find a way."
"Bah, nonsense."
Second frog scoffed.
"Shallow-mindedness!
Jumping because
Others tell you to."
"Here's a thought,"
The third frog said.
"Create ourselves,
We did not.
Wouldn't it then,
Be fitting that
We seek help from,
He who made us?"
The other two
Listened and thought.
"Too much trouble."
Yawned the first.
"I never liked
Chasing others.
Are there no
Easier ways?
I think I shall
Seek answers
ALL BY MYSELF."
"You bunch of fools,"
Laughed the second.
"Frogs need not jump,
They can crawl.
Jump to be free?
That's funny.
HE EXISTS NOT."
Sadly the third
Shook his head.
"Very well then,
Let us part.
I hope we shall
Meet once more
And be happy
FOR ETERNITY."
With that the frogs
Went their ways.
Time passed on
They lived on.
Then came a day
All frogs dread.
He picked the three
And dropped them
In a hollow.
"Where is this?"
Cried One and Two.
"It's a dustbin."
Replied the third.
"What happens next?"
"We get disposed."
"And then where?"
"Filth, stench, dirt,
Rotting trash,
TILL YOU ROT TOO."
"No!" They both weeped.
"What can we do?"
"I'm sorry
You chose this path."
With one last tear
The first frog
Looked at his friends
"Come, join me."
A voice smiled.
First frog rejoiced
As a finger
Pressed his rear
And made him jump
Out of the trash.
Where he jumped
Happily
FOR ETERNITY.
Sat and talked.
"What do we do?
Now that we're here."
"We should jump,"
Said one frog.
"That's what frogs
Do all the time."
"Why should we?"
Asked another.
"We seem fine
Just sitting here."
"I have heard,"
The third frog quipped.
"That to jump
Is to be free
For eternity."
The frogs frowned.
"How do we jump?"
"Who can we ask?"
"Why should we jump?"
"I wish to jump,"
Said the first frog.
"By all means,
I will find a way."
"Bah, nonsense."
Second frog scoffed.
"Shallow-mindedness!
Jumping because
Others tell you to."
"Here's a thought,"
The third frog said.
"Create ourselves,
We did not.
Wouldn't it then,
Be fitting that
We seek help from,
He who made us?"
The other two
Listened and thought.
"Too much trouble."
Yawned the first.
"I never liked
Chasing others.
Are there no
Easier ways?
I think I shall
Seek answers
ALL BY MYSELF."
"You bunch of fools,"
Laughed the second.
"Frogs need not jump,
They can crawl.
Jump to be free?
That's funny.
HE EXISTS NOT."
Sadly the third
Shook his head.
"Very well then,
Let us part.
I hope we shall
Meet once more
And be happy
FOR ETERNITY."
With that the frogs
Went their ways.
Time passed on
They lived on.
Then came a day
All frogs dread.
He picked the three
And dropped them
In a hollow.
"Where is this?"
Cried One and Two.
"It's a dustbin."
Replied the third.
"What happens next?"
"We get disposed."
"And then where?"
"Filth, stench, dirt,
Rotting trash,
TILL YOU ROT TOO."
"No!" They both weeped.
"What can we do?"
"I'm sorry
You chose this path."
With one last tear
The first frog
Looked at his friends
"Come, join me."
A voice smiled.
First frog rejoiced
As a finger
Pressed his rear
And made him jump
Out of the trash.
Where he jumped
Happily
FOR ETERNITY.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
The Secret Room, 10th Chapter
Will, Jimmy and Jan threw glances at each other. Stella and Mrs. Banks in the same group? That would make interrogating her much more difficult.
Jimmy nudged Will on the shoulder. "Hey, supposingly one of us is chosen into Group Four, should we try asking Stella anyway?"
"Err..." he thought for a moment. "I don't know, sounds risky."
"I thought so too. But we might not get another chance so soon."
"CHILDREN! I SAID BE QUIET!" Mrs. Banks roared, making them both jump. "Start counting one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four and so on."
This meant they both wouldn't be in the same group. Jan, on the other hand, was sitting with the girls on the other side and could still be paired up with one of them.
Like a well-drilled platoon the children called out their numbers as they had done so many times before.
"One."
"Two."
It was Jan's turn. "Three."
It looked like she wouldn't have the chance to meet Stella after all. Will couldn't help feeling slightly relieved, knowing now that there was no way she would let her curiousity get the better of her and get into trouble.
"Hey!" Jimmy 's voice invaded his thoughts. "Your turn!"
"Huh? Which number were you?"
"Three."
"Four." Will shouted without much thought. Then it dawned upon him - he was in Stella's group! An opurtunity which he didn't quite appreciate was being presented to him.
"You'll be with Stella," Jimmy said to him, lips unmoving. "Be careful, make sure you don't mess anything up."
He nodded lightly, trying to shake off this bad feeling which came suddenly.
The count ended and the children moved into their respective groups. Apparently, each group would be painting a different floor. Though it was pretty much obvious, Will couldn't help feel his stomach sink when he heard that Group Four would be doing the fourth floor. Which happened to be where the Secret Room was.
As they were being dismissed, Jan sneaked over to him quickly. "Ask her, Will. Don't let this chance slip away."
"But what if-"
"Jan! Hurry up, no talking please."
"Yes, Martha." she scurried off.
"Ask her." Will could see her mouthing fiercely to him as they exited the hall.
Jimmy nudged Will on the shoulder. "Hey, supposingly one of us is chosen into Group Four, should we try asking Stella anyway?"
"Err..." he thought for a moment. "I don't know, sounds risky."
"I thought so too. But we might not get another chance so soon."
"CHILDREN! I SAID BE QUIET!" Mrs. Banks roared, making them both jump. "Start counting one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four and so on."
This meant they both wouldn't be in the same group. Jan, on the other hand, was sitting with the girls on the other side and could still be paired up with one of them.
Like a well-drilled platoon the children called out their numbers as they had done so many times before.
"One."
"Two."
It was Jan's turn. "Three."
It looked like she wouldn't have the chance to meet Stella after all. Will couldn't help feeling slightly relieved, knowing now that there was no way she would let her curiousity get the better of her and get into trouble.
"Hey!" Jimmy 's voice invaded his thoughts. "Your turn!"
"Huh? Which number were you?"
"Three."
"Four." Will shouted without much thought. Then it dawned upon him - he was in Stella's group! An opurtunity which he didn't quite appreciate was being presented to him.
"You'll be with Stella," Jimmy said to him, lips unmoving. "Be careful, make sure you don't mess anything up."
He nodded lightly, trying to shake off this bad feeling which came suddenly.
The count ended and the children moved into their respective groups. Apparently, each group would be painting a different floor. Though it was pretty much obvious, Will couldn't help feel his stomach sink when he heard that Group Four would be doing the fourth floor. Which happened to be where the Secret Room was.
As they were being dismissed, Jan sneaked over to him quickly. "Ask her, Will. Don't let this chance slip away."
"But what if-"
"Jan! Hurry up, no talking please."
"Yes, Martha." she scurried off.
"Ask her." Will could see her mouthing fiercely to him as they exited the hall.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
The Secret Room, 9th Chapter
"Oh?" Jimmy cocked up an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"It starts off pretty much the same as yours - Stella staying here, being curious about the Secret Room and all. There were some friends mentioned, but I'm not sure how many or who they were."
"And so the story goes that Stella and her friends came up with some scheme to get into the room. However, this time around they try to blow the door up. Literally."
"Blow it up? How?"
"Firecrackers. They gathered however much they could find, buy, borrow, or even steal, and hid it well. Everything was meticulously planned, from the date and time of the explosion, to who would go in and what."
"Now here's the weird part. It appears that their plan failed, and only Stella got caught. Somehow, the rest fled in time before Mrs. Banks came along. She unselfishly took the blame for her other friends."
"What happened to her friends, then?"
"Beats me."
"So, in Jimmy's story everyone but Stella gets caught." Will deduced. "But in Jan's story only Stella gets caught."
"You got it."
"Know what, guys?" Jimmy slammed a fist on the table. "We've got to look for Stella right now."
Rrrrrring! A truly unwelcome sound signalling the end of breakfast time echoed across the hall.
"Oh, man! Not now!"
"Hurry up, children!" Pat, one of the nice ladies, shouted. "Clear your dishes and gather in the main hall! We'll be doing some wall-painting today!"
An inaudible groan could be felt all over. None of the children found dirtying their hands in a strenious repetitive movement the whole day long particularly thrilling. Furthermore, it was not like they got to paint them in many different exciting colours. Mrs. Banks, being the jolly old woman she was, had decided that ALL walls in the orphanage should be given a coat of light brown for "consistency". Ugh.
Ten minutes later, Will found himself on the verge of nodding off as the adreanaline-pumping Mrs. Banks droned on and on and on and on and on about the rules, regulations, what they should or shouldn't do, the way to do it, and so on and on and on and on and on, never mind that they were all virtually the same things. It was truly incredible how she could make a hundred active young minds bursting with energy almost crying in boredom.
"All right, everyone clear?"
"Clearrrrrr..."
"You'll now be split into four groups. Group One shall go under Ruth and Bessy, Group Two under Teresa and Pat, Group Three Martha and Polly. Stella and I will be in charge of Group Four."
"It starts off pretty much the same as yours - Stella staying here, being curious about the Secret Room and all. There were some friends mentioned, but I'm not sure how many or who they were."
"And so the story goes that Stella and her friends came up with some scheme to get into the room. However, this time around they try to blow the door up. Literally."
"Blow it up? How?"
"Firecrackers. They gathered however much they could find, buy, borrow, or even steal, and hid it well. Everything was meticulously planned, from the date and time of the explosion, to who would go in and what."
"Now here's the weird part. It appears that their plan failed, and only Stella got caught. Somehow, the rest fled in time before Mrs. Banks came along. She unselfishly took the blame for her other friends."
"What happened to her friends, then?"
"Beats me."
"So, in Jimmy's story everyone but Stella gets caught." Will deduced. "But in Jan's story only Stella gets caught."
"You got it."
"Know what, guys?" Jimmy slammed a fist on the table. "We've got to look for Stella right now."
Rrrrrring! A truly unwelcome sound signalling the end of breakfast time echoed across the hall.
"Oh, man! Not now!"
"Hurry up, children!" Pat, one of the nice ladies, shouted. "Clear your dishes and gather in the main hall! We'll be doing some wall-painting today!"
An inaudible groan could be felt all over. None of the children found dirtying their hands in a strenious repetitive movement the whole day long particularly thrilling. Furthermore, it was not like they got to paint them in many different exciting colours. Mrs. Banks, being the jolly old woman she was, had decided that ALL walls in the orphanage should be given a coat of light brown for "consistency". Ugh.
Ten minutes later, Will found himself on the verge of nodding off as the adreanaline-pumping Mrs. Banks droned on and on and on and on and on about the rules, regulations, what they should or shouldn't do, the way to do it, and so on and on and on and on and on, never mind that they were all virtually the same things. It was truly incredible how she could make a hundred active young minds bursting with energy almost crying in boredom.
"All right, everyone clear?"
"Clearrrrrr..."
"You'll now be split into four groups. Group One shall go under Ruth and Bessy, Group Two under Teresa and Pat, Group Three Martha and Polly. Stella and I will be in charge of Group Four."
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Writer's Block
Hmm...am I becoming more introverted? These days I seem to prefer eating alone more...perhaps it's just sometimes too tedious to be constantly coming up with interesting topics for conversation. Being alone allows me time to think of "stuff" such as...erm, what to do for the rest of the day...how I'm going to do my assignments...and of course ideas for my stories! =]
Of course, rarely does anything more than the colour of the food sticks in my mind. Heh.
But enough of that! I haven't been talking about The Secret Room much, have I? Which probably explains the lack of feedback I've been receiving about it as well. Yeah, you reap what you sow, ohoho.
I'd say the story just got a whole lot more interesting - you might want to know that Stella is a totally new character I've just added on to the original story. Jan too is much more developed now compared to her "extra" role previously, making our leads a Harry Potter-esque trio comprising 2 guys and a girl.
Like I promised, I'm gonna add in more dynamics to the story, even the ending! This way, both those who have read it and haven't read it are going to have something to look forward to. Not so sure now how to handle the relationship between Mrs. Banks and Stella well. You know, the more I see it, the more I think this Stella has the potential to be an extremely complex character which ties a lot of the past and present of the Secret Room together. I have two ideas: either she becomes an "unwilling evil sidekick" of Mrs. Banks, or "good person with tortured past, driven to insanity". Obviously, these two are just grains of sand in a desert. Or snowflakes in an avalanche. You get the idea.
And since we're all gathered here, may I interest you in a little:
http://www.simpsoncrazy.com/downloads/video.shtml
Cool Simpsons ads no self-respecting idler with no better purpose in life wants to miss!
If you can't view them, you need to download the codec at:
http://download.divx.com/divx/DivX511.exe
Tata! DOH!!
Of course, rarely does anything more than the colour of the food sticks in my mind. Heh.
But enough of that! I haven't been talking about The Secret Room much, have I? Which probably explains the lack of feedback I've been receiving about it as well. Yeah, you reap what you sow, ohoho.
I'd say the story just got a whole lot more interesting - you might want to know that Stella is a totally new character I've just added on to the original story. Jan too is much more developed now compared to her "extra" role previously, making our leads a Harry Potter-esque trio comprising 2 guys and a girl.
Like I promised, I'm gonna add in more dynamics to the story, even the ending! This way, both those who have read it and haven't read it are going to have something to look forward to. Not so sure now how to handle the relationship between Mrs. Banks and Stella well. You know, the more I see it, the more I think this Stella has the potential to be an extremely complex character which ties a lot of the past and present of the Secret Room together. I have two ideas: either she becomes an "unwilling evil sidekick" of Mrs. Banks, or "good person with tortured past, driven to insanity". Obviously, these two are just grains of sand in a desert. Or snowflakes in an avalanche. You get the idea.
And since we're all gathered here, may I interest you in a little:
http://www.simpsoncrazy.com/downloads/video.shtml
Cool Simpsons ads no self-respecting idler with no better purpose in life wants to miss!
If you can't view them, you need to download the codec at:
http://download.divx.com/divx/DivX511.exe
Tata! DOH!!
The Secret Room, 8th Chapter
"Sit down, Will!" Jan glared at him. "You don't want to make Mrs. Banks any more suspicious than she already is."
Reluctantly he sank back into his chair. "Jimmy, what do you know about this Stella incident? I've never heard you mention it before."
"That's because I hardly even remembered it, till you brought up this whole Secret Room craze now. I couldn't have been more than five when my brother told us this."
"According to him," he continued. "Stella had two best friends when she was staying here. Both were about the same age as her, and well...they three were the inseperable sort."
"Stella herself was also highly curious about the Secret Room, and somehow managed to get her two friends involved as well. They tried all sorts of ways to gather information about the history of the room, and in some ways did find out a little. However, that didn't help much since it was mostly on the construction of the room, not what was inside it now. Furthermore, they were starting to attract attention from Mrs. Banks and it would be too risky to continue."
"So one summer, the three hatched a plan: they would break in the old-fashioned way. They read up all they could on picking locks, and sourced for any saws they could find in the orphanage. Heh, well, most of the time this meant stealing from the poor janitor and stashing it somewhere."
"Now, this is the part where the details are rather blurry. In the version my brother tells me, Stella and her friends take their chance during a fire drill. Then..."
Will and Jan swallowed hard.
"Nobody knows the conclusion. All I know is, Mrs. Banks caught them and her two friends were never seen again."
"But what about Stella? Why is she still here, then?"
He shrugged. "No idea."
"Well, now this is interesting," Jan said. "The version I heard is quite different from yours."
Reluctantly he sank back into his chair. "Jimmy, what do you know about this Stella incident? I've never heard you mention it before."
"That's because I hardly even remembered it, till you brought up this whole Secret Room craze now. I couldn't have been more than five when my brother told us this."
"According to him," he continued. "Stella had two best friends when she was staying here. Both were about the same age as her, and well...they three were the inseperable sort."
"Stella herself was also highly curious about the Secret Room, and somehow managed to get her two friends involved as well. They tried all sorts of ways to gather information about the history of the room, and in some ways did find out a little. However, that didn't help much since it was mostly on the construction of the room, not what was inside it now. Furthermore, they were starting to attract attention from Mrs. Banks and it would be too risky to continue."
"So one summer, the three hatched a plan: they would break in the old-fashioned way. They read up all they could on picking locks, and sourced for any saws they could find in the orphanage. Heh, well, most of the time this meant stealing from the poor janitor and stashing it somewhere."
"Now, this is the part where the details are rather blurry. In the version my brother tells me, Stella and her friends take their chance during a fire drill. Then..."
Will and Jan swallowed hard.
"Nobody knows the conclusion. All I know is, Mrs. Banks caught them and her two friends were never seen again."
"But what about Stella? Why is she still here, then?"
He shrugged. "No idea."
"Well, now this is interesting," Jan said. "The version I heard is quite different from yours."
Friday, January 14, 2005
The Secret Room, 7th Chapter
"You've seriously got to be kidding," she narrowed her eyes. "There's no way of going in, and you know that."
"Yeah, that's why we need to figure out some way."
"But...why? I mean, if she doesn't want us to enter, there's bound to be some reason."
"Exactly. And that's what we're dying to find out."
Will explained what he had come across a few months back. Everything from the muffled screams to those two fingers slipping out beneath the door.
"So?" he clapped his hands together. "Interested in the Secret Room now?"
She nodded lightly. "A little."
"Well, how do we go about this now?" asked Jimmy.
"We could try asking the nice ladies."
An awkward pause ensued.
"Hey," Jan chipped in. "Do you guys know Stella?"
"She's one of the nice ladies, isn't she?"
"Whatever, I'm assuming that means she works here. Anyway, she's actually a friend of my cousin."
"Which means...?"
"Stop interrupting. If I remember correctly, she used to live in the orphanage as well, and once got into some minor trouble over that Secret Room."
Will and Jimmy appeared to be in deep thought.
"But that was a looong, looong time ago...probably seven or eight years back." she added. "I'm guessing she wouldn't want to talk about it anymore."
"Hold on there," Jimmy said. "Did you say seven or eight years back?"
"I sure did."
"That was about the time my eldest brother was here. And I think I do recall him mentioning some incident about the Secret Room which not many knew of. It involved three girls, didn't it?"
"I-I'm not sure."
"Oh, come on," Will got up impatiently. "Let's go ask Stella."
"Yeah, that's why we need to figure out some way."
"But...why? I mean, if she doesn't want us to enter, there's bound to be some reason."
"Exactly. And that's what we're dying to find out."
Will explained what he had come across a few months back. Everything from the muffled screams to those two fingers slipping out beneath the door.
"So?" he clapped his hands together. "Interested in the Secret Room now?"
She nodded lightly. "A little."
"Well, how do we go about this now?" asked Jimmy.
"We could try asking the nice ladies."
An awkward pause ensued.
"Hey," Jan chipped in. "Do you guys know Stella?"
"She's one of the nice ladies, isn't she?"
"Whatever, I'm assuming that means she works here. Anyway, she's actually a friend of my cousin."
"Which means...?"
"Stop interrupting. If I remember correctly, she used to live in the orphanage as well, and once got into some minor trouble over that Secret Room."
Will and Jimmy appeared to be in deep thought.
"But that was a looong, looong time ago...probably seven or eight years back." she added. "I'm guessing she wouldn't want to talk about it anymore."
"Hold on there," Jimmy said. "Did you say seven or eight years back?"
"I sure did."
"That was about the time my eldest brother was here. And I think I do recall him mentioning some incident about the Secret Room which not many knew of. It involved three girls, didn't it?"
"I-I'm not sure."
"Oh, come on," Will got up impatiently. "Let's go ask Stella."
Writer's Block: The Cendol Stall
It was a blazing hot afternoon, like most Malaysian afternoons are. You know, the sort that makes you all sticky and agitated and envisioning mattresses and pillows everywhere? Yeap, it was 3 something in the afternoon, and there I was, driving back home...
Oh sun, go hide behind a cloud or something. I could barely keep my eyes open. My brain was overflowing with...brain-dust, if I may coin that term.
Down a long, long stretch of road in Sri Petaling. It wasn't really that long, but it did seem so, given the speed I was driving at (why does my petrol meter like the letter "E" so much?). Noo! When would this ever end? Traffic light! Green...green...ORANGE. Great.
Oh joy, a red light. Condemning me straight into the deepest bowels of misery. I could almost feel the wicked, wicked traffic light cackling away.
Green. It HAS to turn green now. I said NOW. NOW! HEY!! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM ANYWAY? There were no cars coming from the opposite direction, and still I @#$(^%*#@%>:{&^?!!!!
Abandon all hope, laughed the hysterical red light. I have captured Green Light and taken him far, far away where you shall never find him.
Aha! But what was that coming from the opposite way? Another car from afar, racing full speed to try and make it just before the lights turned red.
Consider yourself fortunate, snarled Red Light. I shall get you next time. The other car slowed down, coming to a halt eventually and I realised that THIS WAS IT!! Vroom, vroom, GREEN! I was FREEEeeEeeEEeEEeeeeee......till the next traffic light.
Then it appeared. A beacon of hope, so inconspicuous that anyone could've missed it. An oasis in the midst of the desert of hopelessness.
It was a cendol stall. How much I would've loved a bowl, but this little guy in a suit and tie, sitting on my shoulder said: forget it, you're broke. Save every bit you can.
But there was no possible way I could resist. Just one bowl. One ringgit wouldn't make a difference.
And so my weary soul (not to mention butt) plonked itself onto a tattered plastic stool. Deftly the Indian man scooped a spoonful of red beans and those long green stuff into a bowl. Rrrr, rrrr, rrr went the spinning block of ice as it was turned into shavings. Then came the syrupy brown sugar and my favourite part of all, the giant pot he opens and ladles coconut milk out of. Clonk, clonk.
This seemed familiar. I'd once always sat down for a bowl of cendol before going for tuition back in Form 3. Back then things were...no, I simply had to let go of the past. It was dangerous to keep harping on memories. Faces came to my mind, faces of friends whom I had knew and loved through the years. It wasn't like I would never see them again, but it just wouldn't be the same. It was more than the people involved, it was the circumstances and the times.
I took another slurp of the sweet liquid, worried. Sooner or later, this bowl of yummy cendol would come to an end. And it was time to pay for it and go back into the hot sun. I had still so much to learn, to see, to experience, and I just didn't know how.
A final gulp, and I was done. "Terima kasih, bos."
Then the sun went behind a cloud, casting a much needed shadow over the people at the stall. From the hardworking Indian man, to the loud-mouthed Chinese businessman, to the chattering Malay ladies, all continued tucking into their cendol with much pleasure.
Have you had your bowl of cendol today?
Oh sun, go hide behind a cloud or something. I could barely keep my eyes open. My brain was overflowing with...brain-dust, if I may coin that term.
Down a long, long stretch of road in Sri Petaling. It wasn't really that long, but it did seem so, given the speed I was driving at (why does my petrol meter like the letter "E" so much?). Noo! When would this ever end? Traffic light! Green...green...ORANGE. Great.
Oh joy, a red light. Condemning me straight into the deepest bowels of misery. I could almost feel the wicked, wicked traffic light cackling away.
Green. It HAS to turn green now. I said NOW. NOW! HEY!! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM ANYWAY? There were no cars coming from the opposite direction, and still I @#$(^%*#@%>:{&^?!!!!
Abandon all hope, laughed the hysterical red light. I have captured Green Light and taken him far, far away where you shall never find him.
Aha! But what was that coming from the opposite way? Another car from afar, racing full speed to try and make it just before the lights turned red.
Consider yourself fortunate, snarled Red Light. I shall get you next time. The other car slowed down, coming to a halt eventually and I realised that THIS WAS IT!! Vroom, vroom, GREEN! I was FREEEeeEeeEEeEEeeeeee......till the next traffic light.
Then it appeared. A beacon of hope, so inconspicuous that anyone could've missed it. An oasis in the midst of the desert of hopelessness.
It was a cendol stall. How much I would've loved a bowl, but this little guy in a suit and tie, sitting on my shoulder said: forget it, you're broke. Save every bit you can.
But there was no possible way I could resist. Just one bowl. One ringgit wouldn't make a difference.
And so my weary soul (not to mention butt) plonked itself onto a tattered plastic stool. Deftly the Indian man scooped a spoonful of red beans and those long green stuff into a bowl. Rrrr, rrrr, rrr went the spinning block of ice as it was turned into shavings. Then came the syrupy brown sugar and my favourite part of all, the giant pot he opens and ladles coconut milk out of. Clonk, clonk.
This seemed familiar. I'd once always sat down for a bowl of cendol before going for tuition back in Form 3. Back then things were...no, I simply had to let go of the past. It was dangerous to keep harping on memories. Faces came to my mind, faces of friends whom I had knew and loved through the years. It wasn't like I would never see them again, but it just wouldn't be the same. It was more than the people involved, it was the circumstances and the times.
I took another slurp of the sweet liquid, worried. Sooner or later, this bowl of yummy cendol would come to an end. And it was time to pay for it and go back into the hot sun. I had still so much to learn, to see, to experience, and I just didn't know how.
A final gulp, and I was done. "Terima kasih, bos."
Then the sun went behind a cloud, casting a much needed shadow over the people at the stall. From the hardworking Indian man, to the loud-mouthed Chinese businessman, to the chattering Malay ladies, all continued tucking into their cendol with much pleasure.
Have you had your bowl of cendol today?
Writer's Block
My, my, a Writer's Block at such an hour? I wouldn't dare, would I?
Well, actually I was looking through blogs of my ex-classmates from CD26 (foundation year in college), and I suddenly realise what a year that truly was. I came to college after having similarly fallen in love with my Form 5 class, thinking "no class could possibly be as great as 5sc1" (that's my Form 5 class to you).
But hey, you know how the rest of the story goes. Hard to believe as it is, I was actually one of the less creative/crappy (it's a thin line) among those deranged beings even on my best day. It always is a most wonderful experience sitting down brainstorming on some "groundbreaking concept" with new ideas flying in from all four corners. Singing in class, on field trips, spontaneous "musicals", the infamous "Class Wars" against the nefarious CD27, Wisecrack Of The Day with an unfortunate lecturer...and don't even get me started on Drama Class.
Haha...sorry if I'm boring you out of your wits, but I'm just pouring out this sudden rush of emotions here. What makes an interesting class interesting? The way the different "social groups" interact and complement each other so perfectly? You know...rich people, smart people, lazy people, happy people, lonely people, jerkish people etc coming together in a melting pot of CONVERSATION where infinite possibilities could occur? There's something still very mysterious and magical about this phenomenon, but yeah...here's a big shout-out to the five most-loved classes I've ever been in, all were one-of-a-kind: 1S2, 5sc1, CD26, AD26, and Canaan Church (well, technically we're all studying the Bible ;^)
And ah yes...as I was waddling through the swamps of daily-experience-blog-siness, I couldn't help thinking why I don't write blogs like those. Do I always need to be so different from others? Or maybe I feel shy talking about my thoughts, or have trouble putting them in words. I mean, I have had friends who visited my blog and said, "Hey, it's from some storybook.". Wouldn't personal testimonies, social commentaries, criticisms and the like truly help me be the "drop that overflowed the ocean" I cherish so much? I'm starting to come to terms with my potential and what an awful waste it would be to just sit by and be proud of it. (No, I am NOT boasting, ALL of us have our individual potentials waiting to be discovered).
But possibly the question is, why should I write blogs like those? Like the irrepresible June Loh mentioned in her lovely blog, it's sad to be outspoken without substance. Many are in a hurry to seem knowledgable without first seeking knowledge. Perhaps I myself have been guily of this many times. Never, ever think yourself wiser than others because you know something they don't. They might know everything else that you don't. The funny things is, the more you learn about something, the less you feel you know. Arghhh, why am I muttering these wise man quotes? Who wrote this stuff anyway?!
Excuse me while I dust off my "Danielle/Moulin Rouge Parody" VCD. ;^)
Well, actually I was looking through blogs of my ex-classmates from CD26 (foundation year in college), and I suddenly realise what a year that truly was. I came to college after having similarly fallen in love with my Form 5 class, thinking "no class could possibly be as great as 5sc1" (that's my Form 5 class to you).
But hey, you know how the rest of the story goes. Hard to believe as it is, I was actually one of the less creative/crappy (it's a thin line) among those deranged beings even on my best day. It always is a most wonderful experience sitting down brainstorming on some "groundbreaking concept" with new ideas flying in from all four corners. Singing in class, on field trips, spontaneous "musicals", the infamous "Class Wars" against the nefarious CD27, Wisecrack Of The Day with an unfortunate lecturer...and don't even get me started on Drama Class.
Haha...sorry if I'm boring you out of your wits, but I'm just pouring out this sudden rush of emotions here. What makes an interesting class interesting? The way the different "social groups" interact and complement each other so perfectly? You know...rich people, smart people, lazy people, happy people, lonely people, jerkish people etc coming together in a melting pot of CONVERSATION where infinite possibilities could occur? There's something still very mysterious and magical about this phenomenon, but yeah...here's a big shout-out to the five most-loved classes I've ever been in, all were one-of-a-kind: 1S2, 5sc1, CD26, AD26, and Canaan Church (well, technically we're all studying the Bible ;^)
And ah yes...as I was waddling through the swamps of daily-experience-blog-siness, I couldn't help thinking why I don't write blogs like those. Do I always need to be so different from others? Or maybe I feel shy talking about my thoughts, or have trouble putting them in words. I mean, I have had friends who visited my blog and said, "Hey, it's from some storybook.". Wouldn't personal testimonies, social commentaries, criticisms and the like truly help me be the "drop that overflowed the ocean" I cherish so much? I'm starting to come to terms with my potential and what an awful waste it would be to just sit by and be proud of it. (No, I am NOT boasting, ALL of us have our individual potentials waiting to be discovered).
But possibly the question is, why should I write blogs like those? Like the irrepresible June Loh mentioned in her lovely blog, it's sad to be outspoken without substance. Many are in a hurry to seem knowledgable without first seeking knowledge. Perhaps I myself have been guily of this many times. Never, ever think yourself wiser than others because you know something they don't. They might know everything else that you don't. The funny things is, the more you learn about something, the less you feel you know. Arghhh, why am I muttering these wise man quotes? Who wrote this stuff anyway?!
Excuse me while I dust off my "Danielle/Moulin Rouge Parody" VCD. ;^)
Thursday, January 13, 2005
The Secret Room, 6th Chapter
Jimmy bit his lip, glancing at Will. Clearly Mrs. Banks, sharp as she was, could see through them. "So," her eyes grew cold. "You directly violated the rules."
"No, Mrs. Banks," A girl's voice rang out from the top of the stairs. The petrified boys looked up to see that it was Jan. And not a moment too late.
"I left something in the toilet, you see, and was afraid to have to go all the way up myself to get it. Therefore, I asked the two of them to come along with me."
Mrs. Banks shot Will and Jimmy a dirty-cum-disbelieving look. They lifted their fingers to form "peace" signs in unison while flashing dazzling smiles.
"The toilet upstairs has been shut down since Tuesday for maintainance. I hope you realise that."
"Exactly," said Jan with all the credibility in the world. "I left it there last week, and only found out that it was missing today. I'd hoped it would still be there, but it appears we couldn't get in. Too bad for me then."
She is gooood, thought Will to himself while nodding his head to affirm Jan's account.
The half-convinced Mrs. Banks scratched her chin. "Something still smells fishy to me."
"It's true, Mrs. Banks. We would never dream of going against your orders."
"Okay, I'll take your word this time. But make no mistake about it, I will NOT have any more children up here. You three will be held accountable if I catch anyone else in future."
"Yes, Mrs. Banks." they chorused.
Silently the three trooped back down to their breakfast tables, not daring to utter a word for fear that she could hear them.
As soon as he was positive they were out of earshot, Will asked softly, "Phew! That was close! You literally saved our skins Jan! But what were you doing upstairs?"
"I was curious why you were in such a hurry to go upstairs...and who said curiousity killed the cat?"
"But, I must ask," she continued. "What were you guys doing upstairs anyway? I kind of hope it isn't what's in my mind right now."
"Well..." Jimmy twiddled with his fingers. "I guess it is what you're thinking."
"No, Mrs. Banks," A girl's voice rang out from the top of the stairs. The petrified boys looked up to see that it was Jan. And not a moment too late.
"I left something in the toilet, you see, and was afraid to have to go all the way up myself to get it. Therefore, I asked the two of them to come along with me."
Mrs. Banks shot Will and Jimmy a dirty-cum-disbelieving look. They lifted their fingers to form "peace" signs in unison while flashing dazzling smiles.
"The toilet upstairs has been shut down since Tuesday for maintainance. I hope you realise that."
"Exactly," said Jan with all the credibility in the world. "I left it there last week, and only found out that it was missing today. I'd hoped it would still be there, but it appears we couldn't get in. Too bad for me then."
She is gooood, thought Will to himself while nodding his head to affirm Jan's account.
The half-convinced Mrs. Banks scratched her chin. "Something still smells fishy to me."
"It's true, Mrs. Banks. We would never dream of going against your orders."
"Okay, I'll take your word this time. But make no mistake about it, I will NOT have any more children up here. You three will be held accountable if I catch anyone else in future."
"Yes, Mrs. Banks." they chorused.
Silently the three trooped back down to their breakfast tables, not daring to utter a word for fear that she could hear them.
As soon as he was positive they were out of earshot, Will asked softly, "Phew! That was close! You literally saved our skins Jan! But what were you doing upstairs?"
"I was curious why you were in such a hurry to go upstairs...and who said curiousity killed the cat?"
"But, I must ask," she continued. "What were you guys doing upstairs anyway? I kind of hope it isn't what's in my mind right now."
"Well..." Jimmy twiddled with his fingers. "I guess it is what you're thinking."
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
The Secret Room, 5th Chapter
"You don't think..."
"Will," Jimmy stared at him grimly. "You're right. There might be more to the Secret Room than meets the eye."
He stuck a finger into the dent. "Would you believe it, there're even some traces of dried blood stains."
Will frowned, then gasped. "Y-you're right! But Jimmy, what made you-"
"You know, I didn't quite at first buy what you told me last night. But on second thought, why would you make that up? So I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and came over to have a look."
Suddenly they heard noisy footsteps coming up the stairs. "I bet it's Mrs. Banks! Quick, let's get out of here!"
The two boys dropped their conversation at once and tried their best to run quickly yet silently to the other staircase at the other end. This was no easy feat, given that the footsteps were growing louder and would be catching them in the act any moment now.
"Oh, what the heck, just RUN!" Will shouted, making the two go helter-skelter. He was hoping that at least this way Mrs. Banks would just know that someone had been up here, but not know who.
Finally reaching the staircase, they clambered madly at the railings and dashed down three steps at a time. A collective sigh of relief was just about to be heaved when to their horror, she stepped out of nowhere!
"What's the hurry, boys?" Mrs. Banks glared at them suspiciously through her horn-rimmed glasses. "I hope you two weren't snooping around that room on the top floor."
"Uh...no...we...ehh..." Jimmy felt his heart sunk upon seeing Will's feeble attempt at lying.
"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times - that room is strictly off limits to all children. Now, tell me what the two of you were doing upstairs at breakfast time, or I shall have you dealt with severely."
"We were in the toilet, that's all." An instant air of seriousness followed Jimmy's words.
"Nonsense," she sneered. "The toilet on the fifth floor is shut down for maintainance. You could very well have used the first floor toilet."
"Will," Jimmy stared at him grimly. "You're right. There might be more to the Secret Room than meets the eye."
He stuck a finger into the dent. "Would you believe it, there're even some traces of dried blood stains."
Will frowned, then gasped. "Y-you're right! But Jimmy, what made you-"
"You know, I didn't quite at first buy what you told me last night. But on second thought, why would you make that up? So I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt and came over to have a look."
Suddenly they heard noisy footsteps coming up the stairs. "I bet it's Mrs. Banks! Quick, let's get out of here!"
The two boys dropped their conversation at once and tried their best to run quickly yet silently to the other staircase at the other end. This was no easy feat, given that the footsteps were growing louder and would be catching them in the act any moment now.
"Oh, what the heck, just RUN!" Will shouted, making the two go helter-skelter. He was hoping that at least this way Mrs. Banks would just know that someone had been up here, but not know who.
Finally reaching the staircase, they clambered madly at the railings and dashed down three steps at a time. A collective sigh of relief was just about to be heaved when to their horror, she stepped out of nowhere!
"What's the hurry, boys?" Mrs. Banks glared at them suspiciously through her horn-rimmed glasses. "I hope you two weren't snooping around that room on the top floor."
"Uh...no...we...ehh..." Jimmy felt his heart sunk upon seeing Will's feeble attempt at lying.
"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times - that room is strictly off limits to all children. Now, tell me what the two of you were doing upstairs at breakfast time, or I shall have you dealt with severely."
"We were in the toilet, that's all." An instant air of seriousness followed Jimmy's words.
"Nonsense," she sneered. "The toilet on the fifth floor is shut down for maintainance. You could very well have used the first floor toilet."
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
The Secret Room, 4th Chapter
"But Jimmy! How could you sleep right after hearing something like that?"
"Mmm..." he ignored him and sank deeper under the covers.
"Oh, come on! Stop pretending you're tired!"
Only loud snores replied Will, a clear indication that his roommate was done with talking for tonight.
"Hey, Jan," Will called out to the girl across him at breakfast the next morning. "Say, have you seen Jimmy anywhere around this morning? It's not like him to skip the most important meal of the day."
She gazed at the ceiling, a gesture he always found annoying for some reason. "He was somewhere around earlier today...upstairs, I think."
"Upstairs? What's he doing up-"
Will cut himself off mid-sentence, already guessing the answer. But Jimmy wouldn't do such a thing, would he? Hurriedly he gobbled up his bacon and dashed up the stairs.
The rest of the floors were deserted as they always were this time of the morning, save for some late get-uppers. But that wasn't the object of his concern now, for he was headed to...you guessed it, the fourth floor.
Will stepped into the corridor, rather out of breath. He thought of calling out for Jimmy, but decided otherwise for fear that Mrs. Banks or some of the nice ladies might be around. He was, after all, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Sure enough, Jimmy was where he'd guessed: standing in front of the Secret Room. What was strange though was this focused expression he bore, studying intently the mechanisms of each lock and latch securing the door.
"I knew you would find me here," said Jimmy without looking at him.
"Yeah."
"Check this out," he pointed at the floor beneath the crack of the door. Will kneeled down to take a closer look.
"What the..." It was a tiny mark made by two fingers repeatedly clawing away at the cement, barely distinguishable to the unobservant eye.
"Mmm..." he ignored him and sank deeper under the covers.
"Oh, come on! Stop pretending you're tired!"
Only loud snores replied Will, a clear indication that his roommate was done with talking for tonight.
"Hey, Jan," Will called out to the girl across him at breakfast the next morning. "Say, have you seen Jimmy anywhere around this morning? It's not like him to skip the most important meal of the day."
She gazed at the ceiling, a gesture he always found annoying for some reason. "He was somewhere around earlier today...upstairs, I think."
"Upstairs? What's he doing up-"
Will cut himself off mid-sentence, already guessing the answer. But Jimmy wouldn't do such a thing, would he? Hurriedly he gobbled up his bacon and dashed up the stairs.
The rest of the floors were deserted as they always were this time of the morning, save for some late get-uppers. But that wasn't the object of his concern now, for he was headed to...you guessed it, the fourth floor.
Will stepped into the corridor, rather out of breath. He thought of calling out for Jimmy, but decided otherwise for fear that Mrs. Banks or some of the nice ladies might be around. He was, after all, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Sure enough, Jimmy was where he'd guessed: standing in front of the Secret Room. What was strange though was this focused expression he bore, studying intently the mechanisms of each lock and latch securing the door.
"I knew you would find me here," said Jimmy without looking at him.
"Yeah."
"Check this out," he pointed at the floor beneath the crack of the door. Will kneeled down to take a closer look.
"What the..." It was a tiny mark made by two fingers repeatedly clawing away at the cement, barely distinguishable to the unobservant eye.
Friday, January 07, 2005
The Secret Room, 3rd Chapter
"I used to not care less about that Secret Room as well, thinking it was maybe some office they used to hold important meetings or keep stuff."
"But you see, there was this one night a few months ago I suddenly felt the call of nature. Right in the middle of the night when the whole world was asleep. Try as I could, there was nothing I could do but creep up to the toilet on the fifth floor."
"And as you know, I had to pass the Secret Room on the fourth floor to get there. So as I neared it, suddenly I heard voices coming from inside."
"That's not surprising," Jimmy cut in. "Maybe the nice ladies were having a meeting inside."
"That's what I told myself too. Only thing was, why on earth would they hold one at such an hour? It had to be something so important it couldn't wait till next morning. That was when my curiousity got the better of me."
"I pressed a ear against the door, trying to figure out what was going on inside. However, the voices were so soft and blurred that I could hardly make out the words."
"Then as I pressed my ear closer, that's when things started becoming weird. The whole door shook for no reason, first gently then slowly rougher."
"And here's what I swear happened: someone inside was screaming their lungs out; though I wasn't sure what the whole sentence was, it contained the word "Help". And then...then..."
"Then what? Come on, spill it out!"
"I saw the most terrifying thing I could ever imagine," Will's face was flushed with cold sweat. "Two long bony fingers poking out underneath the crack of the door, reaching out for me. Thank God that by some miracle I didn't faint, and found the strength to fly back to bed, terrified out of my wits."
Jimmy looked down, showing no emotion whatsoever. "It's been a long day, Will. Let's go to bed."
"But you see, there was this one night a few months ago I suddenly felt the call of nature. Right in the middle of the night when the whole world was asleep. Try as I could, there was nothing I could do but creep up to the toilet on the fifth floor."
"And as you know, I had to pass the Secret Room on the fourth floor to get there. So as I neared it, suddenly I heard voices coming from inside."
"That's not surprising," Jimmy cut in. "Maybe the nice ladies were having a meeting inside."
"That's what I told myself too. Only thing was, why on earth would they hold one at such an hour? It had to be something so important it couldn't wait till next morning. That was when my curiousity got the better of me."
"I pressed a ear against the door, trying to figure out what was going on inside. However, the voices were so soft and blurred that I could hardly make out the words."
"Then as I pressed my ear closer, that's when things started becoming weird. The whole door shook for no reason, first gently then slowly rougher."
"And here's what I swear happened: someone inside was screaming their lungs out; though I wasn't sure what the whole sentence was, it contained the word "Help". And then...then..."
"Then what? Come on, spill it out!"
"I saw the most terrifying thing I could ever imagine," Will's face was flushed with cold sweat. "Two long bony fingers poking out underneath the crack of the door, reaching out for me. Thank God that by some miracle I didn't faint, and found the strength to fly back to bed, terrified out of my wits."
Jimmy looked down, showing no emotion whatsoever. "It's been a long day, Will. Let's go to bed."
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Writer's Block
Heh, I hadn't planned on writing one so fast, but since I'm free today, why not?
Actually that's only the sub-reason I'm compelled to write this...the main reason being THE REASON MY WHOLE DAY JUST FLEW BY UNKNOWINGLY!! Yes, I sometimes cringe in horror at the dumb things we...okay, I use to fill up time which would have been much better spent...I dunno, helping blind people cross roads?
And without further ado, I give you:
http://kmb.com.hk/chi/wonder/finaleasy0110.swf
and all the other games in:
http://www.ferryhalim.com
(make sure you try out Runaway Train and The Amazing Dare-Dozen and...oh, try them ALL! Now, now, don't blame me if your life whittles away into nothingness...
Um...well, this is the part where we usually talk about the current story. All rite, all rite, I have a shameful confession to make: it's not a thought-on-the-spot story like Blogspot was. I wrote it previously, but somehow it didn't get read by many people.
Now, now, put down that piece of barb wire first. It's all about an enjoyable story isn't it, no matter where it came from (as long as its not someone's else work, obviously)? I've had my eye on giving this twisted tale the credit it deserves for a while now, and no worries...like I previously mentioned, there will be changes here and there to the original plot. The basic premise will remain the same, that's all. Of course, any suggestions are still very much welcome.
You might have noticed as well that the posts are shorter now compared to those mind-numbing final chapters of Blogspot. Yeap...it's a different story, which means a different approach and all. I'll still try to end every chapter with a cliffhanger, but I won't make sure it happens. I mean, let the poor story unravel itself the way it wants. Besides that, this story will certainly end much faster than Blogspot, I'm guessing 10-15 chapters. Whee!
Oh yeah, briefly went through the entire Blogspot story today, and it gave me sort of a warm fuzzy feeling to see my baby grow up, mature, get married, have kids, and....okay, okay, I'll stop...lol. Corrected some spelling/ grammar mistakes and the like, not that anyone would notice anyway. ;^)
Man...I'm running out of ways to end these Writer's Block thingies...how do you go about it anyway? Let me see, let me see...
P.S. Btw, Sarah thought I was 14!! Dunno whether I should laugh or cry, but I understand...20 year olds don't usually write stories about...er, scary storytellers writing stories to store writings...now that's another reason why I seem 6 years younger.
Nice one gal! 8^D
Actually that's only the sub-reason I'm compelled to write this...the main reason being THE REASON MY WHOLE DAY JUST FLEW BY UNKNOWINGLY!! Yes, I sometimes cringe in horror at the dumb things we...okay, I use to fill up time which would have been much better spent...I dunno, helping blind people cross roads?
And without further ado, I give you:
http://kmb.com.hk/chi/wonder/finaleasy0110.swf
and all the other games in:
http://www.ferryhalim.com
(make sure you try out Runaway Train and The Amazing Dare-Dozen and...oh, try them ALL! Now, now, don't blame me if your life whittles away into nothingness...
Um...well, this is the part where we usually talk about the current story. All rite, all rite, I have a shameful confession to make: it's not a thought-on-the-spot story like Blogspot was. I wrote it previously, but somehow it didn't get read by many people.
Now, now, put down that piece of barb wire first. It's all about an enjoyable story isn't it, no matter where it came from (as long as its not someone's else work, obviously)? I've had my eye on giving this twisted tale the credit it deserves for a while now, and no worries...like I previously mentioned, there will be changes here and there to the original plot. The basic premise will remain the same, that's all. Of course, any suggestions are still very much welcome.
You might have noticed as well that the posts are shorter now compared to those mind-numbing final chapters of Blogspot. Yeap...it's a different story, which means a different approach and all. I'll still try to end every chapter with a cliffhanger, but I won't make sure it happens. I mean, let the poor story unravel itself the way it wants. Besides that, this story will certainly end much faster than Blogspot, I'm guessing 10-15 chapters. Whee!
Oh yeah, briefly went through the entire Blogspot story today, and it gave me sort of a warm fuzzy feeling to see my baby grow up, mature, get married, have kids, and....okay, okay, I'll stop...lol. Corrected some spelling/ grammar mistakes and the like, not that anyone would notice anyway. ;^)
Man...I'm running out of ways to end these Writer's Block thingies...how do you go about it anyway? Let me see, let me see...
P.S. Btw, Sarah thought I was 14!! Dunno whether I should laugh or cry, but I understand...20 year olds don't usually write stories about...er, scary storytellers writing stories to store writings...now that's another reason why I seem 6 years younger.
Nice one gal! 8^D
The Secret Room, 2nd Chapter
"Hey Jimmy, what do you think's inside the Secret Room?" asked Will to the boy who slept above his bunk bed one night.
"Huh? What Secret Room?"
"You know...the one Mrs. Banks warns us to keep out of all the time."
"Oh, that Secret Room. Try something new, Will. You've been asking that same question for months now."
"But, Jimmy! What could possibly Mrs. Banks and the nice ladies be trying to hide from us?Why are they so afraid that we'll sneak in?"
"Because we don't want you to get hurt." Jimmy mimicked Mrs.Banks shrill voice, making them giggle. "But hey, why are you so curious about it? I mean, I know it must seem like there's something interesting in there, but that's all! I bet it's all some overrated junk they invented just to scare us kids off."
"Well, ehh..." Will knew that he was possibly right, but something about the Secret Room just fascinated him so. The air of mystery? The forbiddance? Truth be told, he wasn't the sort who usually shook presents to figure out their contents. Same went for the Secret Room, most of the times Mrs. Banks warnings had went in one ear and out the other. It was only after he saw it when he knew that was no ordinary room.
"Will," Jimmy sat up. "You've stayed here for so many years, but yet you've never been this way about that room. Why are you so hyped up about it all of a sudden?"
The reddish tone on his ears gave away the fact that Will was hiding something. "What is it, Will? Tell me."
"Well...okay, I'll share this with you. But make sure no one else knows."
"Huh? What Secret Room?"
"You know...the one Mrs. Banks warns us to keep out of all the time."
"Oh, that Secret Room. Try something new, Will. You've been asking that same question for months now."
"But, Jimmy! What could possibly Mrs. Banks and the nice ladies be trying to hide from us?Why are they so afraid that we'll sneak in?"
"Because we don't want you to get hurt." Jimmy mimicked Mrs.Banks shrill voice, making them giggle. "But hey, why are you so curious about it? I mean, I know it must seem like there's something interesting in there, but that's all! I bet it's all some overrated junk they invented just to scare us kids off."
"Well, ehh..." Will knew that he was possibly right, but something about the Secret Room just fascinated him so. The air of mystery? The forbiddance? Truth be told, he wasn't the sort who usually shook presents to figure out their contents. Same went for the Secret Room, most of the times Mrs. Banks warnings had went in one ear and out the other. It was only after he saw it when he knew that was no ordinary room.
"Will," Jimmy sat up. "You've stayed here for so many years, but yet you've never been this way about that room. Why are you so hyped up about it all of a sudden?"
The reddish tone on his ears gave away the fact that Will was hiding something. "What is it, Will? Tell me."
"Well...okay, I'll share this with you. But make sure no one else knows."
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
The Secret Room, 1st Chapter
William, or Will as everyone called him, had lived in the orphanage for as long as he could remember. Ever since his parents passed away ten years ago when he was barely even two, Will was cared for by what he refers to as the "nice ladies" in the orphanage.
Life was simple there, though Will sometimes missed his parents and he didn't always get his way. However, all this was way too insignificant for him to not like the only home he'd ever known. To cut a long story short, he was as happy as could be living in the orphanage, unlike what we are sometimes led to believe in television.
But as is all too familiar in such stories, there's always a catch. You see, there was this little room with a purple door on the fourth floor which Will had never been and was not allowed into. Now, that wasn't the problem as there were plenty of rooms in the orphanage which he had never been and was not allowed into. What made this room so special, that made ALL the children desperate to know what was inside was something else.
Each one of them had been through it since day one: an unfailing daily reminder to stay away from the room. No kidding! Every kid in the orphanage knew the rule: NOBODY, absolutely NO-BO-DY could enter the room. Mrs. Banks, self-professed head of the orphanage drilled that into their heads every chance she got. Why, with all the padlocks, bolts and grills fastened around it, you would be forgiven for thinking that the room contained mountains of treasure. Or maybe it did.
Life was simple there, though Will sometimes missed his parents and he didn't always get his way. However, all this was way too insignificant for him to not like the only home he'd ever known. To cut a long story short, he was as happy as could be living in the orphanage, unlike what we are sometimes led to believe in television.
But as is all too familiar in such stories, there's always a catch. You see, there was this little room with a purple door on the fourth floor which Will had never been and was not allowed into. Now, that wasn't the problem as there were plenty of rooms in the orphanage which he had never been and was not allowed into. What made this room so special, that made ALL the children desperate to know what was inside was something else.
Each one of them had been through it since day one: an unfailing daily reminder to stay away from the room. No kidding! Every kid in the orphanage knew the rule: NOBODY, absolutely NO-BO-DY could enter the room. Mrs. Banks, self-professed head of the orphanage drilled that into their heads every chance she got. Why, with all the padlocks, bolts and grills fastened around it, you would be forgiven for thinking that the room contained mountains of treasure. Or maybe it did.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
An All-New Writer's Block
Heya all you lovely faces out there! I got myself a new template - ALL RITE!! Pardon my almost embarrassing excitement, but I'm pretty much a newbie when it comes to these things. A big thank you to my friend Zhi Yang (not his real name) who helped me out a lot on those scary HTML thingies which...yeah, enable us to see those words we're reading now.
Not sure yet what to do with those link thingies on the left, but something good will probably come out of it sooner or later. And oh, in case you didn't notice, I adjusted the posting times as well. Couple that with the new layout, and some of the things said in previous Writer Blocks might no longer apply...and what happened to my lovely italics? But oh well, I guess bold isn't so bad either. At least now I can scan through Writer's dialogue at one glance.
Speaking of which, there still isn't a title for that story yet, is there? Does it even need one? It most likely does, for future reference. Let's call it...hmm, I dunno, "Blogspot"? Or "Story"? "Writing"? Blogspot sounds good to me.
Of course, everyone's curious about my second story. I mean, many people are curious. Okay, maybe some people are curious. But anyhow, I've been pretty curious myself these past few days. To be honest, Blogspot had what I feel was a perfect plot for such spontaneous conditions. The unwitting protagonist thrown into a strange world, slowly exploring his surroundings while more new mysteries popped up, leading to the eventual final battle where the psychotic villain's wicked yet intruiging scheme is revealed. In a way, it was the story I'd always had in my head but never sat down to write!
Hey, wasn't I supposed to talk about my new story? Umm...do give me another night to sort out those sketchy patches still floating around in my head. Haha, ~SUSPENSE~! But seriously, I'm quite decided on combining and refining one or two of my older stories. A few of you might have read them before, but heck, let's see if I manage to add in any "brilliante" ideas along the way. All it takes is...ONE!
Signing off is always difficult, and with the heaviest heart I now bid you all...AHAHAHA. Somebody's being possessed by Shakespeare. See all of you in the orphanage! (Where the next story is set in, apparently) ;^)
Not sure yet what to do with those link thingies on the left, but something good will probably come out of it sooner or later. And oh, in case you didn't notice, I adjusted the posting times as well. Couple that with the new layout, and some of the things said in previous Writer Blocks might no longer apply...and what happened to my lovely italics? But oh well, I guess bold isn't so bad either. At least now I can scan through Writer's dialogue at one glance.
Speaking of which, there still isn't a title for that story yet, is there? Does it even need one? It most likely does, for future reference. Let's call it...hmm, I dunno, "Blogspot"? Or "Story"? "Writing"? Blogspot sounds good to me.
Of course, everyone's curious about my second story. I mean, many people are curious. Okay, maybe some people are curious. But anyhow, I've been pretty curious myself these past few days. To be honest, Blogspot had what I feel was a perfect plot for such spontaneous conditions. The unwitting protagonist thrown into a strange world, slowly exploring his surroundings while more new mysteries popped up, leading to the eventual final battle where the psychotic villain's wicked yet intruiging scheme is revealed. In a way, it was the story I'd always had in my head but never sat down to write!
Hey, wasn't I supposed to talk about my new story? Umm...do give me another night to sort out those sketchy patches still floating around in my head. Haha, ~SUSPENSE~! But seriously, I'm quite decided on combining and refining one or two of my older stories. A few of you might have read them before, but heck, let's see if I manage to add in any "brilliante" ideas along the way. All it takes is...ONE!
Signing off is always difficult, and with the heaviest heart I now bid you all...AHAHAHA. Somebody's being possessed by Shakespeare. See all of you in the orphanage! (Where the next story is set in, apparently) ;^)
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Writer's Block
Oh boy...I'd hoped to write a super long one to wrap things up for this year and this story, but it's like 3:53 am now and I have a wedding to attend in church tomorrow.
However, for the sake of my f... (wild screams) CONTROL YOURSELF, PEOPLE. Ha...ha...ha...ha...it's frightening what sleepy-ness can do to the human mind.
Wow, I sure did it didn't I? Managing to end the story on the very last day of my self-imposed deadline. It's been two and a half months since this story began, I didn't even think it would last that long. And just CHECK OUT the length of the final two chapters! It takes 2.8 seconds to scroll down by keyboard (yeah, that's how I measure the length of my posts).
Still not sure on the general verdict of how I handled the final scene, but there's one comment that it suffers from the "Matrix" syndrome: build the reader's expectations and intrigue to levels so high that they cannot possibly be fulfilled, and then an "OK" ending which couldn't do much. Maybe it was too long, maybe it was too corny, maybe the freshness of the plot had worn thin by then, but I tried my best and well, I guess I deserve to be proud of my pre-sios! Especially the Epilogue, which I feel helped lessen the "what the...you mean THIS is the end?" feel by a lot.
And yeah...I'll most likely change the template to usher in the new year + story, something more fancy I hope. While waiting, here's some fun stuff we can do:
a) figure out a title for this story - it can be more than one word, I guess.
b) comments, alternate endings, etc.
c) discussion: ending every chapter with a cliffhanger seems unneccessary and difficult for the story to flow smoothly. Do away with it in future?
d) last but not least but most...a theme for my new story! Something to get the ball rolling, I hope...I've had some thoughts running through my head these days I guess...but most still seem pretty weak or too similar in style to the first story. So why not YOU think of the story, I write it, and I get all the credit? Hey, I'll use your names for my characters, if that's what you want! >^p
All right, I'll let you in on a teeny little secret...I'm leaning more towards a mystery/murder sort of story at the moment. So, if you don't mind, I'm off now to take in a breath of 2005!
However, for the sake of my f... (wild screams) CONTROL YOURSELF, PEOPLE. Ha...ha...ha...ha...it's frightening what sleepy-ness can do to the human mind.
Wow, I sure did it didn't I? Managing to end the story on the very last day of my self-imposed deadline. It's been two and a half months since this story began, I didn't even think it would last that long. And just CHECK OUT the length of the final two chapters! It takes 2.8 seconds to scroll down by keyboard (yeah, that's how I measure the length of my posts).
Still not sure on the general verdict of how I handled the final scene, but there's one comment that it suffers from the "Matrix" syndrome: build the reader's expectations and intrigue to levels so high that they cannot possibly be fulfilled, and then an "OK" ending which couldn't do much. Maybe it was too long, maybe it was too corny, maybe the freshness of the plot had worn thin by then, but I tried my best and well, I guess I deserve to be proud of my pre-sios! Especially the Epilogue, which I feel helped lessen the "what the...you mean THIS is the end?" feel by a lot.
And yeah...I'll most likely change the template to usher in the new year + story, something more fancy I hope. While waiting, here's some fun stuff we can do:
a) figure out a title for this story - it can be more than one word, I guess.
b) comments, alternate endings, etc.
c) discussion: ending every chapter with a cliffhanger seems unneccessary and difficult for the story to flow smoothly. Do away with it in future?
d) last but not least but most...a theme for my new story! Something to get the ball rolling, I hope...I've had some thoughts running through my head these days I guess...but most still seem pretty weak or too similar in style to the first story. So why not YOU think of the story, I write it, and I get all the credit? Hey, I'll use your names for my characters, if that's what you want! >^p
All right, I'll let you in on a teeny little secret...I'm leaning more towards a mystery/murder sort of story at the moment. So, if you don't mind, I'm off now to take in a breath of 2005!
Chapter 43: "Epilogue"
Unbelievable as it was, the battle was finally over. And I had won. Somehow.
I reflected back upon all I'd been through, and only then did it dawn upon me what an incredible episode it truly was. From the moment I found myself mysteriously trapped here, meeting Toby, Melly, Moby, and Telly, then meeting and fighting U, not forgetting the omnipresent Archiver. And of course, coming face to face with Writer and truly understanding his motivations to create the best story ever told.
Did he succeed or fail? In a paradoxical way, I could almost relate to him. Creating Blogspot was at the start just an act of cutting the nose to spite the face, to show his sister how much he hated reality. Little by little, as he came to realise and relish the power he actually wielded, Blogspot became the reality he embraced. And only by making others embrace it the way he did could his world, his story, his life, go on. It was hard to tell whether most would've done the same thing in his position.
Kicking the pure white sand uncertainly, I uncovered something at the spot where Writer had vapourised. A closer look revealed a glittering pen finished in gold and an ordinary-looking notepad. I flipped open the first page and was puzzled to see some rough sketches of a gaunt old man. The second page showed neater drawings of the same old man. He was unmistakably...Archiver.
Without warning the pen lifted itself up and began writing. "CREATE ARCHIVER - YES/NO?"
Stunned beyond words, I tried to let go of the book but I couldn't. Couldn't more in the sense that I didn't want to.
"Yes." I whispered without even thinking what I was saying.
And presto, Archiver magically faded into sight before me. The very same Archiver I'd fought and seen sink into the sand.
"My Lord, my Creator." he kneeled at my feet. "I am yours to command."
Mine to command? What was going on here?
"Your Majesty, let us first create a pair of Antagonists and a pair of Protagonists. Then only shall we commence with the construction of your abode."
"Errr..." I was still trying to come to terms with the situation. Had I somehow taken over the throne of Blogspot?
I turned to the next page of the notepad and couldn't believe my eyes. More sketches, but this time they were of a pimply-faced boy and a pony-tailed girl. Toby and Melly. Or Moby and Telly.
The pen started writing again. "CREATE TOBY - YES/NO?"
"Uhhh...yes."
Toby materialised just like Archiver had.
"This can't be real," I rubbed my eyes. "Weren't you dead?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the pen asked again. "CREATE MELLY - YES/NO?"
"Y-yes."
Melly appeared as well.
"HOW? Can someone tell me what's going on here?"
"My Lord," Archiver said. "Do not be confused, these two shall not fight each other. They shall instead fight another pair of Protagonists. May I suggest two winged lizards?"
"No...don't Protagonists always look exactly the same as their Antagonists, but with different powers and names?"
"An excellent idea, Your Highness! They shall be called Moby and Telly then."
Another boy and girl who resembled those two down to the last hair appeared from thin air.
"Now split up, you four. Toby and Melly, you shall track down Melly and Toby and battle them, and vice versa."
They nodded and ran off their seperate ways, two by two.
"Come, my Lord," Archiver took my hand. "Let us now ponder upon the sructure of your domain."
Now I understood - with the old Archiver and Writer dead, whatever stories that had been created were now completely erased. No one would ever know, but I was apparently the successor of Blogspot. They, of course, would still think me the first and foremost Creator. The only difference was, I wouldn't make the same mistakes as that foolish Writer had. My Blogspot shall live forever.
As I gazed down at Toby Tabbing all over with Melly in search of their opponents and Archiver explaining his grand designs for the yet-to-be-named Climax City, I thought to myself: Perhaps I'll really grow to like this.
THE END
I reflected back upon all I'd been through, and only then did it dawn upon me what an incredible episode it truly was. From the moment I found myself mysteriously trapped here, meeting Toby, Melly, Moby, and Telly, then meeting and fighting U, not forgetting the omnipresent Archiver. And of course, coming face to face with Writer and truly understanding his motivations to create the best story ever told.
Did he succeed or fail? In a paradoxical way, I could almost relate to him. Creating Blogspot was at the start just an act of cutting the nose to spite the face, to show his sister how much he hated reality. Little by little, as he came to realise and relish the power he actually wielded, Blogspot became the reality he embraced. And only by making others embrace it the way he did could his world, his story, his life, go on. It was hard to tell whether most would've done the same thing in his position.
Kicking the pure white sand uncertainly, I uncovered something at the spot where Writer had vapourised. A closer look revealed a glittering pen finished in gold and an ordinary-looking notepad. I flipped open the first page and was puzzled to see some rough sketches of a gaunt old man. The second page showed neater drawings of the same old man. He was unmistakably...Archiver.
Without warning the pen lifted itself up and began writing. "CREATE ARCHIVER - YES/NO?"
Stunned beyond words, I tried to let go of the book but I couldn't. Couldn't more in the sense that I didn't want to.
"Yes." I whispered without even thinking what I was saying.
And presto, Archiver magically faded into sight before me. The very same Archiver I'd fought and seen sink into the sand.
"My Lord, my Creator." he kneeled at my feet. "I am yours to command."
Mine to command? What was going on here?
"Your Majesty, let us first create a pair of Antagonists and a pair of Protagonists. Then only shall we commence with the construction of your abode."
"Errr..." I was still trying to come to terms with the situation. Had I somehow taken over the throne of Blogspot?
I turned to the next page of the notepad and couldn't believe my eyes. More sketches, but this time they were of a pimply-faced boy and a pony-tailed girl. Toby and Melly. Or Moby and Telly.
The pen started writing again. "CREATE TOBY - YES/NO?"
"Uhhh...yes."
Toby materialised just like Archiver had.
"This can't be real," I rubbed my eyes. "Weren't you dead?"
He didn't answer. Instead, the pen asked again. "CREATE MELLY - YES/NO?"
"Y-yes."
Melly appeared as well.
"HOW? Can someone tell me what's going on here?"
"My Lord," Archiver said. "Do not be confused, these two shall not fight each other. They shall instead fight another pair of Protagonists. May I suggest two winged lizards?"
"No...don't Protagonists always look exactly the same as their Antagonists, but with different powers and names?"
"An excellent idea, Your Highness! They shall be called Moby and Telly then."
Another boy and girl who resembled those two down to the last hair appeared from thin air.
"Now split up, you four. Toby and Melly, you shall track down Melly and Toby and battle them, and vice versa."
They nodded and ran off their seperate ways, two by two.
"Come, my Lord," Archiver took my hand. "Let us now ponder upon the sructure of your domain."
Now I understood - with the old Archiver and Writer dead, whatever stories that had been created were now completely erased. No one would ever know, but I was apparently the successor of Blogspot. They, of course, would still think me the first and foremost Creator. The only difference was, I wouldn't make the same mistakes as that foolish Writer had. My Blogspot shall live forever.
As I gazed down at Toby Tabbing all over with Melly in search of their opponents and Archiver explaining his grand designs for the yet-to-be-named Climax City, I thought to myself: Perhaps I'll really grow to like this.
THE END
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