Tuesday, December 27, 2005

The New Girl, Chapter 18

In a desperate attempt to at least reach double figures before the month (and year) is out, here we go again - the next wholesome-to-the-bone installment of The New Girl! By the way, I won't be around from the 27th all the way till the 30th - yups, it's that time of the year again: Youth Camp! Don't think the absence will be very much noticable though, with the slew of breaks I've taken so far...see ya around for New Year's Eve!

"I know it feels awfully weird that I'm here." Saras' words mirrored the exact thoughts in May's head.
"Um...pretty much. Where're the rest of your friends?"
"Most of them need to help out with their parents' businesses after school. I'm only able to be here because my elder brother is back home for this month."
"Mm," May nodded. "By the way, you must be wondering how I grew fifteen years older in a day."
"Not really. I've seen it happen before."
May sat up, very much more interested now. "You mean that girl Misha?"
"Yes. But she took a lot longer than you. Say, three months."
"And you saw it all?"
"They sent her to the hospital at about the same age you got to, 30 or so. Maybe later I think. It was when the changes became too great to ignore. I only saw her once more after that in the hospital, and it was terrible. She'd become all shrivelled up and bedridden, almost like a grandmother approaching 100. Her mother kept crying, but there was nothing the doctors could do. She didn't make a single sound; all she did was stare at us like we weren't there."
"Did...did she die in the end?" Her hands had strangely become clammy all of a sudden.
"I don't know. Her parents took her out of town, vowing to find a cure."
A very scary question raced through her mind over and over like a sadistic carousel - Will the same thing happen to me? She dared not ask it however, for fear of an answer even worse than the question.
"And I should let you know this," Saras continued. "Jean's missing."
"Missing? Where is she?"
"How would I know? Her aunt came to school this morning and said that she didn't come home last night. She's worried sick."
Don't tell me she's still in the secret garden.
"I think I know where she is," May got out of bed. "Come, we've got to look for her."

Monday, December 26, 2005

A Not-So-Regular Edition Of Writer's Block, I Hope

O Come all ye faithful to Twisted Tales! It's the warm fuzzy time of the year again, if the marketing people would have you believe, and I hope you've all had a Christmas as good as I had. What makes a Christmas special? For me it's not so much on how well the year went, but how great you think the next year's gonna be. Kinda like how you don't feel relaxed at the start of a long day, but at the end. Of course, that's speaking in very humanistic and selfish terms which misses the meaning of Christmas altogether.

ANYWAY. Like always, you didn't come here for smart-alecky philosophical stuff which you can read elsewhere. We gather here today because...sigh, people never learn. Once again, I've been made to submit to a sissilicious...oh, how I dread the word...TAG!

Hehe, you're lucky Charmaine that I'm a sucker for praise - thank you for all that you've lavished upon me this entire year, undeserved though it might be. One of your 5 joys in life, fancy that. Since we're on the topic, big thank yous too for people like Beatrice, Jill, Zhi Yong, Estee, Chern Lye, Cherie, and the other ton of anonymous readers who think I don't know exist. Thank you sooo much guys, you're all that seperate me from being a self-delusional hack typing away in vain hope of someone noticing.

Alllll...ritey then! Heads up, as we get set for the Return Of The Tag:

10 years ago I was: 10 years old and very much the unknowing freak of the class.

5 years ago I was: I was 15, in Form Three, and going through very much of a transitional stage between kiddyhood and youthhood. Still not sure if I've completed the transition. =p

1 year ago I was: Beginning my final year of college and about to meet a man whom I would very much aspire to be.

5 snacks I enjoy: Kit Kat! Pringles Sour Cream and Onion! Koko Krunch! Chipsmore! Pringles Sour Cream and Onion! Heh, can't blame me for having good taste.

5 songs I know including the lyrics: Uhh...there's this Chinese Christian song "You Yi Jian Li Wu" which we sang for laughs so many times during carolling that I think I've miraculously gotten it. The Powerpuff Girls theme song, the Thundercats theme song, the Pinky And The Brain theme song, the Angela Anaconda theme song, and lots more cartoons than you probably care to hear about.

5 things I would do with a million dollars: Put Twisted Tales up on the stock market. Set up some sort of charity for obnoxious wannabe writers wasting bandwidth with their online stories. Erm...erm...I dunno...hey, don't you get enough overimaginative stories here alerady?!

5 places I would run away to: Hmm...I'm trying hard to think of some faraway glamourous/ mystical country but guess I'm really boring. I'd rather leech myself to my home and at most, the homes of my good friends. Of course, names shall not be revealed for the fear of them being mobbed by autograph-wielding fans.

5 things I would never wear: Pink clothes, sleeveless shirts, hair dye, matching "couple" outfits, basically anything that threatens my apek gimmick lah.

5 favourite TV shows: Used to love Futurama. Powerpuff Girls has to be in the list too. Pinky And The Brain? Sure, on the back of being IMO the cartoon with the best premise still. And I was just watching an old episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway today, which reminded me plenty. Last but not least, in fact the most, is a no-brainer...um, WWE programming. Yeah. No Desperate Housewives, Alias, CSI, Lost, anything normal? Yeah, I'm w-e-i-r-d. Speaking of which, shouldn't "weird" be spelt "w-i-e-r-d" if it's prnounced that way?

5 bad habits: Oh man...do we have to go through this again? Time management, time management, time management. Can be pretty careless with what I say at times. Lacking initiative. Always cheating when I answer tag questions.

5 biggest joys: Friends lah. You lah. Ya lah, you, the one sitting at the computer reading. Thank you for reading my blog loh. Hope I'm gonna find my career a joy too...and wouldn't it be terrible if I didn't include my family? Unite, all ye better-looking-and more intelligent-than-average Moks! (inside joke with my sister). Then of course living in the light of Christ leh. Veli the joyful that one, I tell you.

5 favourite toys: How about I make it "5 favourite games" instead? Year 2003 produced THREE fantasticulous games which still gives me and a certain friend hours of conversation. The first one's a party game called Mafia, where you have murderers, a doctor, and a spy, and the objective is to catch all the murderers. You've probably played some version of it before. Mid 2003 all the way to early 2004 saw some of the most thrilling rounds ever at almost every gathering og high school friends. We even played it at eateries, for crying out loud. Next would be an online game called Utopia, which I've explained about previously. Finally we have Dota (Defense Of The Ancients), a Warcraft map which you MUST have heard of. It is with great pride that I claim to be the one who introduced it to my high school friends, who've since taken it far, far away.
And for the heck of it, Yahoo Graffiti and...oh, I dunno..."chai mui"? You know, that game where you guess with your hands whether the opponent will do a "zero", "five", or "ten"? Had great fun with that in high school...

5 fictional characters I would date: May. Jean. Saras. Kat. Belinda Froster. HAH! You know me better than to pass up a chance like this to subconsciously remind you of my much-loved stories, don't you?

5 people I want to tag to do this: Go knock yourselves out, Devoted Readers Number 4, 5, 7, 9, and 12.

And a winner is you, because this tag is now officially OVER! Like Charmaine says, "Smiles widely". =)))

Thursday, December 22, 2005

The New Girl, Chapter 17

(Egad, it's the 19th already and we're only into our SIXTH post of the month? That's like the blogging regularity of a regular person with a healthy social life! Has Twisted Tales' moment in the sun passed, or is the busiest stretch of the year to be blamed? Oh well, let's just give your harried writer here the benefit of the doubt and hope that the goodies will start appearing come the new year. But wait, then there's Chinese New Year...
Bleargh, passion, passion...that's what I'm supposed to write with, right?)

Okay, I'll be honest. The part in brackets was written three days ago, which was when I started writing this chapter and have been unable to finish since. Between the rushing to and fro college for the graduation exhibition setup, some dumb interview with the college, designing, redesigning, and re-redesigning the church bulletin which I still insist sucks, trying my hardest to feel like I'm on holiday, and lots of other menial stuff like eating and sleeping, I can't believe I'm still almost as busy as I was at the end of the term. Talk about reliving a nightmare.
But the biggest bombshell came yesterday. As I was driving home, I suddenly received an SMS from Zhi Yong which went something like, "Eh, did you hear? Ju Liang is in the hospital for suspected leukemia. Pls pray for him.". Ju Liang is, in case you didn't know, a pretty close friend of mine in church. Rather numbly I just deleted the message and muttered a half-hearted prayer or two when traffic was slow.
The severity of the situation didn't strike me still this morning. Watching Narnia with some friends. Fetching them back. Doing my usual crappy high-pitched sing-along to Phantom Of The Opera to amuse them. Driving to college. Doing minimal work. Goofing around with a digital camera. All the while Ju Liang was on my mind, but I still somehow assumed him to be having some sort of high fever. I don't know why nothing bad crossed my mind. Maybe I'm just like that.
It was only when I was at Zhi Yong's house later, about to leave for the hospital to visit Ju Liang, that Zhi Yong's father let me in on the diagnosis. Apparently Ju Liang was confirmed to be suffering from leukemia and has to undergo chemotheraphy. The expected life span for a leukemia patient after treatment is five years.
Now he was talking about life spans.
I've read countless such stories and articles, and not one of them has left a lasting impression on me. I don't expect this one to change you in any way, unless you know Ju Liang too. It doesn't have a moral lesson at the end. It's not a feel-good story, nor a heartstrings-tugging one. In fact, the story hasn't even started yet. I'm writing this down just because I need to.

He seemed fine at the hospital.

At the end of the night, I asked Zhi Yong, "Hey...he'll be all right, won't he?"
"Will he...die?" I just had to ask.
"Everyone does."
"No, seriously."
"I'm serious."
Fair enough.
"Oh well," I looked up at the stars, dotting the black sky like silverdust. "I could think of a million things to say beginning with 'I think God is trying to...', but who am I to speak of God's will?"
Dear Lord Jesus, please take good care of my friend Ju Liang.

Wow, that almost qualifies as a seperate Writer's Block. Never mind, the story's gonna be an added bonus...

The New Girl, Chapter 17
Jean eyed the unguarded window at the far end of the room. The other two patients between her and the window were fast asleep in their beds though it was still bright. The annoying nurse who checked on them every hour was still fifteen minutes before schedule. Plenty of time for her to climb out and hail a taxi to school before anyone noticed.
Ha ha.
She'd been stuck here for an entire morning and afternoon, ready to wither from the boredom. Her parents were still out there consulting with the doctors on the A to Zs of her condition and from what little bit she could gather, still nobody had a clue what was happening. Each time the doctors told them that in their medical gibberish, her father grew increasingly agitated while her mother inched closer to a nervous breakdown.
May was positive that black magic was behind it all. The only question was whether it was Saras' doing or Jean's. Both of them would want her to believe that the other did it, and had perfectly valid reasons to back themselves up. To make matters worse, she still didn't know if Jean was all right after her tantrum in the garden.
"Excuse me, Miss Leong," the nurse poked her head in. "You have a guest."
A guest? It had better not be the first in a dreaded never-ending slew of relatives asking the same questions over and over.
"Let him in."
She heard the nurse speak softly to someone and then the door opening. It was Saras.
"Saras?" She looked very much different from her usual rowdy self in school, almost docile with her neat untied hair and cotton skirt. "I-I didn't expect you at all."
"I won't take long." she smiled and sat beside her bed.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

The New Girl, Chapter 16

Man, this can't be good...yet another long story update-less streak, this one lasting six days. And I'm still supposed to start on Ghostopia before the year is out, haha...looks like that's gonna have to wait till January. What?! I did say I couldn't be trusted, didn't I?
Anyway, today's chapter is another ground-breaking one because...we have our first male characters of the story! I said MALE CHARACTERS~! TESTOSTERONE, BABY! Yippee.

"I've run her through all the tests," the balding doctor said grimly. "All her physical traits are similar to that of a 30-year old."
"Ridiculous!" May's father was livid. "Tell us, doctor - what's this?"
He shook his head. "It's incredible. I've never seen anything like this before in my life."
"My daughter was sixteen yesterday, and today you're telling me she's thirty. Don't give me that."
"Um, maybe I can refer her to another hospital in the city."
"It's okay. We'll do that ourselves." said her father in a disgusted tone as they left, though May was very sure the poor doctor had done nothing to deserve his wrath.

"Nothing? Nothing at all? Are you sure?"
"Yes mom, I'm positive I didn't take any funny food yesterday. In fact I didn't take any outside food."
"How about the last week?"
"Oh please, have you ever seen anyone grow fifteen years older just because they ate something wrong?" May snapped irritatedly. She glanced at her absurd womanly face in the rear mirror and quickly looked away, feeling exasperated and worried at the same time. Who or what could have done this? If they didn't find a way to turn her back the way she was, she would probably have to start looking for a job tomorrow. Or worse still, a husband.
"Don't you worry dear, everything will be just fine," said her mother. "It's just some infection, that's all. They'll know what to do."
"I can't for the life of me understand this," her father flashed his lights at the car in front impatiently. "I saw her with my very own eyes just last night. And now she's become older. It's like magic."
It's like magic.
Suddenly a thought crossed May's mind. Black magic. Could what was happening be caused by Saras' black magic, just like Jean had warned her? Or maybe Jean's black magic like Saras had warned her. For the first time she could fit the pieces together to grasp an inkling of the situation. The way she'd outgrown her skirt the past few days, it was already one of the early signs that Saras noticed. And didn't Jean mention that the other girl, Misha, eventually suffered from some strange disease? This one was as strange as they came.
It was highly improbable, but she was now living proof that this hocus-pocus wasn't the far-fetched nonsense she'd made it out to be. There was no way any hospital or doctor or medicine would be able to change her back. Only Saras and Jean had the answers.
"Mom, Dad, I need to go to shcool. Someone might be able to help me."
"Don't be silly dear, we're reaching the hospital in ten minutes. You can ask your friends to visit you later if you want to."

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Writer's Block

Picture a dude who tells great witty jokes which you can't stop laughing at. He invites you for a cup of tea, and before you know it you're laughing your head off. Good one, you say. He nods in agreement, and starts rattling off another joke. And before you know it, you're trapped in a never-ending joke fiesta which has outlived its welcome by an hour.
Okay, okay, I'm really inviting trouble for myself by coming up with illustrations like these, but that's quite about what happened to me today. My sleepy, hungry, thirsty, and call-of-naturish self sat through three hours of King Kong. That's the new movie, lest you think I haven't outgrown the zoo.
Perhaps it was the after effects of my sucky day (more on that later), but I didn't exactly have a blast of a time. I mean, there're only so many nail-biting near-death sequences one can take before you realise that if Character X is going to die at all, he'd have died sooner. You know those thrilling climaxes at the end of monster movies where the lead characters have to ward of the Monster(s) Starring In The Movie to stay alive? My gosh, I swear the entire second hour of King Kong was an extended scene of that. Every possible monster, and I do mean every last possible monster showed up to prove that there is life after Power Rangers. Okay, so maybe one or two were absent, but I assure you there was a ridiculously high number of them.
I dunno, maybe the movie was also too long for its own good. I mean, three freakin' hours for this? :

(Spoilers my foot)

a) Dude wants to film movie.
b) Dude and other dudes and one dudette sail to mystical island.
c) Natives capture dudette to offer to some ancient fearsome beast that ain't Godzilla.
d) King Kong likey girl.
e) Dudes enter jungle to rescue girl. King Kong no likey.
f) Dudes manage to capture King Kong to bring home, cos they likey money.
g) King Kong no likey city, breaks free.
h) Humans no likey.
i) Humans hunt down King Kong. Girl no likey.
j) Humans kill King Kong. Me no wakey.

Urghh...okay, to be fair Point G onwards was great to watch, but the rest just seemed a bit too much of a good thing. But hey, I'm not complaining - it's actually really worth your money! Cos for the price of ONE movie, you get to watch loads of scenes which remind you of other movies like Titanic, Jurassic Park, Village Of The Damned, Aliens, Bats, Eight Legged Freaks, They Nest, every Jackie Chan movie ever made, and Home Alone 2 (I'm betting you won't spot this one) =p. Go check it out and you'll see what I mean. Plus, I'm guessing Hazeline Snow is the secret sponsor for this one. You know something subliminal's going on when our female lead's face stays smooth as silk after a dozen treacherous escapades through the wet jungles.

And I did mention a sucky day, didn't I? Well yeah...I was majorly pissed off with myself for putting myself through the dreaded Last Minute Experience again. And by again, I mean more times than you can count. Seriously.
It was my last official college assignment, supposedly due by 1.30pm. Of course, it wouldn't be really "nice" to hand it up at 1.30pm, since that meant the lecturer having to wait four hours for you. And guess what? I only managed to hand it in at 2pm after a couple of apologetic phone calls.
Let me explain to you how being caught in the Last Minute Experience feels. Time starts like normal, but slowly accelerates as you inch closer to the deadline till you know you have to take a minute to cool down, but just don't have that minute to spare. You know your throat is dry, your stomach is hungry and your eyes are weary, but you don't feel it. The feeling only comes after the ordeal is over. As you rush on with your work, you try to concentrate but you can't. All sorts of scenarios are forming in your head, usually revolving around what the person who is waiting for you is doing now. It's doubly worse if you're alone, and the worst thing that can happen is your phone ringing. If you're a jitterbug, this is when your hands might even start shaking. Yup. That bad.
Well, it happened to me today. I'm usually pretty calm in the face of such situations (what can I say, practice makes perfect), but this morning there really seemed to be no chance for me to weasel my way out of this one. At 1.20pm I was becoming the sort of person I always pooh-poohed away - a nervous wreck. I couldn't stop mumbling to myself. My breathing was exactly the sort you hear from horror movie victims. And yes, my hands were shaking badly.
But wait, that's only the Pre-Last Minute ordeal. The Post-Last Minute works in a more long-term way, the sort you don't forget and laugh back at once everything's over and done with.
You feel disappointed when you realise that your labour of love, your work, has been reduced to a half-baked borderline product concocted just to meet the deadline (which is what happens most times). You screwed it all up, you killed your baby not with a lack of competence, but a lack of effort.
Your friends shake their heads at this attitude of yours, asking you what you did with your free time. If it's difficult to give your friends an answer to that, it's far more difficult to give yourself an answer.
The most painful part comes when you look back and realise that it isn't the first time, nor the second time, nor the third time that this has happened. And each time you vow to not let it happen again, it does. You wonder to yourself, what's so hard about meeting a deadline that everyone else could meet? But alas, that's also something that's been asked more times than you care to count.
It's become a chronic illness to me, a drug if you will. Like a struggling addict, I just can't help it. I enter and re-enter rehab, but each time I think I'm making progress, bang! I'm late for something again.
Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on myself. But deep down, I'm insanely jealous of those who know what exactly they're doing with their time. I'm jealous of those who will not budge from a job till it's complete, and are willing to do whatever it takes to get there. Me? Maybe what I need is time.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

reCAPPENING: The New Girl, Chapters 11-15

The next day in school, May receives a note from Saras warning her of Jean, and how she will end up like the "girl before her". Against Jean's wishes, May speaks to Saras during recess. Saras tells May that she and her friends were never really witches; they only pretended to be witches to frighten Jean. Unfortunately, Jean took it too seriously and became involved in black magic herself to protect herself from them.
That afternoon in the secret garden, May tries asking about Jean about this but Jean becomes furious when she finds out that May has been talking to Saras behind her back. She runs off in a fit of anger, making May unable to find her after almost an hour's search.
The next morning, something very strange happens - May wakes up to find that she has grown older by fifteen years. In a state of shock, she calls for her mother, leading us into Chapter 16.

Friday, December 09, 2005

The New Girl, Chapter 15

Okay, so now the official school term's over, and I'm technically no longer a student. Of course the change won't really set in till after my graduation ceremony in March and when I "step into the industry" and all (before March hopefully), but that's it. I have ceased to become a student after six years in SRK Salak South, five years in SMK Taman Desa, and three years in The One Academy.
A time will come soon for the soppy teary-eyed recollections, but today we go on with the show while waiting for the nostalgia to set in. Updating's been slow, and I thank you for all your infinite patience, but today's chapter is the one that's gonna make it all worthwhile. For Chapter 15, ladies and gentlemen, is where the shockingest of all developments so far and what will ultimately become the focal point of the story is revealed. Read on. =)

May could swear she had never in her life felt so tired after a good night's sleep. She tried to get up, but her muscles just refused to let her. Never mind. The ceiling was worth a minute's stare.
Yesterday sure had been one heck of a day. After almost an hour of searching for Jean - who was inexplicably nowhere to be found in the secret garden - she came back so drained that she just took a shower, went straight to bed, and didn't wake up till dinner time. She tried calling her house after dinner but nobody picked up the phone. Nearly the entirety of the night was spent reassuring herself that Jean was okay and pondering various possibilities of where she could've gone.
She might be awfully strange, but she's still my friend.
"May!" her mother rapped the door. "You're not still sleeping, are you?"
"Uhh...just getting dressed. I'll be downstairs in a minute."
"Okay, better be quick. You're running late."
May sat up, stretched, and did the first thing she always did in the morning - look in the mirror.
A mirror is at most times one of the most useful things around, but it has the potential to be the most terrifying as well. The trouble with mirrors is that they cannot fail. You must see your own self in it, and nothing else. A million times you look, and a million times it must be your own face gazing back at you. Should there be anything else, you know that you're in deep trouble. This was one of the very rare moments when the mirror failed May.
It wasn't her face. It resembled hers very much, but it most definitely wasn't. The features were more defined, the skin a darker and duller tone, and her ears and nose had grown somewhat larger. It was the face of a 30-year old woman. What made it even more scary was that it was a 30-year old her.
With trembling hands she pinched her cheek. The reflection pinched its cheek as well. Oh, Lord.
"M-mom...?" she scrambled her voice out of her throat. There wasn't much difference, barring the slightly more mature tone you can't describe. "Mom!"
She felt herself. Crap. She'd become a few inches taller and...well, wider.
"What is it, dear?"
"Come in!"
Her mother burst into the room anxiously. "Oh my..." She took one look at May, barely able to keep herself from collapsing.

Monday, December 05, 2005

The New Girl, Chapter 14

So, you ask, what plausible explanation do I have for so thoughtlessly deprieving you of ANOTHER five days of Twisted Tales? Well buster, I ain't gonna spew lengthy stories, just two words for ya - Internet down!
Strangely though, despite it being the final week of my term I still managed to get along fine without being online. In fact, it was kind of a blessing in disguise; my 36-hour Internet-less ordeal turned out to be one of my most productive periods ever! With no MSN, Yahoo Graffiti, Dota invitations, and other evils of the Net to bother me, I can finally have a weekend to look back at without the slightest tinge of regret. Apart from not being able to blog, of course. But wait...that's an evil too. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
On an unrelated note, my tagboard has gone over 15 days without a single new tag. And if you bother to go through the tagboard archives, it is now officially the LONGEST dry spell ever! Woohoo~! At Twisted Tales, we're all about constantly setting new standards.
But does it bother me? Nahhhh. I sort of deserve it with the recent lack of updating. And I know, oh yes I know, that somewhere out there exists at least 1 (ONE) doting reader following my blog devoutly everyday, checking every two hours for new updates. Yups, Mr. Doting Reader is out there, and he's merely not posting. It is for your sake, and yours alone, Mr. Doting Reader, that I continue faithfully posting stories online. For the rest of you, here you go:

"What's wrong? You seem very quiet today." Jean asked with concern.
May didn't know what to say. She'd followed Jean to the secret garden as usual after school for their umpteenth picnic, but Saras' words kept playing themselves back over and over. Should she bring it up to Jean? Jean would surely be furious if she knew that May had been talking to her.
They spread out the cloth and sat at another new part of the place. Here the grass grew in little tufts that kissed your feet if you took off your shoes, dotting the stone path all the way to a stream which at times didn't seem to be there.
"So what do you think of this place? I'm still trying to come up with a name for it." Jean beamed proudly like an artist surveying her finished masterpiece.
"Beautiful. As always."
They sat in still silence enjoying the specialty of the day: undercooked hashbrowns with tartar sauce. Jean was probably enjoying the serenity of their surroundings, but May knew she wasn't.
"May, I know something's bothering you. Spill."
"Huh, me? What makes you say so?"
Well, she asked for it, so it wasn't her fault.
"Errr...Jean?" she started very slowly. "Have you been dabbling with black magic?"
"Oh why, that reminds me!" she excitedly fished in her bag. "I promised to tell you how we can counter Saras' magic."
"No," May grasped her arm firmly. "I refuse to get involved in any black magic. And you shouldn't too."
Jean's eyes grew narrow. "It's our only chance, silly."
"Not true. I've went to Saras, and she says that they're not-"
Uh-oh. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. Jean's mouth dropped wide open in horror-cum-disbelief.
"WHAT? Didn't I tell you not to talk to her?"
"Wait, liste-"
"You lied to me!" Was that a teardrop in the corner of her eye? "YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TALK TO HER!"
Jean got up and darted across the stream, running wildly till she became a dot at the far end of the fields. May, petrified, didn't know if she should go after her. She'd never seen her like that before. She felt a little guilty inside for breaking her promise to Jean, but something was obviously very wrong. If she didn't get to the bottom of it, someone be badly hurt soon.