Phew! Just in time to finish off March with one more post than last month's dismal record of seven. Was actually typing out this post in the office (where I started unofficial work yesterday) before I came to the realisation that it was still too early and too risky for anyone to find out that I was getting paid to blog. So here I am, in the still of the night when I should be sleeping, crafting a masterpiece for you...you people so owe me one.
But hey, you know what? I did spend some of my time in the office today making a list of characters for Blogspot 2, their skill sets, and even imagining how their fights against one another would be like. Fancy that! This brings back good ol' memories of "re-scripting" those potong stim (anti-climatic) Ultraman battles I watched when I was much younger. And heck, looks like my unknowing employers still aren't getting their full money's worth yet. Muahahaha. I so should get fired.
Ouch. I tried opening my eyes, but my head was hurting too much for me to do anything. Someone was talking around me. I tried to listen, but he was too distant to make out any words. It sounded like U, though.
"Ah!" I accidentally cried out in pain as my throbbing head rested against a stony surface.
"Why look, Linnie. He's come to."
Slowly I parted my eyelids. I was apparently in some sort of cave. Standing before me was U and another girl I didn't recognise. She appeared tiny and frail in her tattered clothes, barely twelve or thirteen, peeking shyly from behind him.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," I stroked the tender spot at the back of my head and winced. "Guess so. What happened?"
"Heh," U smirked. "Basic war strategy - if you can't beat the enemy, grab the spoils and flee."
Sheesh. Being referred to as "the spoils" wasn't exactly a roller-coaster for me.
"It was brilliant, really. Knowing that the Archiver uses a lot of energy in Loading every detail from a scene, I purposely timed my Paste to coincide with the moment he Loaded. Once he had to add in the detail of me Pasting, I Cut and Pasted myself in rapid succession to create even more work for him. Eventually, he couldn't bear the overloading and the entire scene crashed on him. Which brought us back here."
I nodded in understanding. Then shook my head again. "Wait...now you're making me even more confused! Who're the good guys and who're the bad guys, really?"
"Hm," U pondered for a moment. "It wouldn't mean much if I claimed to be the good guy, that I'm sure. Let me try to explain it all to you. Then you make the decision."
"The new Him's mission is simple - after he inherited Blogspot from his predecessor, he found too much "dead weight" lying around - blogs that add nothing to Blogspot's legacy of excellency. Therefore, he wants to rid Blogspot of all blogs deemed mediocre and unite every blog into a single master blog monitored by Him. From then on he shall have total control over what they say, what they think, what they look like...all these blogs must adhere to specific guidelines and templates provided."
Rid Blogspot of all mediocre blogs? That was a come-from I couldn't agree with more.
"However, Garrick, there is one thing you must understand. For each blog that is created in your world, an inhabitant of Blogspot - or Blog - is born. Should His plan become reality, it would mean..."
"Death for the scores of so-called mediocre Blogs?"
"Exactly."
I stared at him wide-mouthed. "That can't be right."
"He begs to differ, however. Now that the sign of the Revolution has arrived, the battle can no longer be avoided. Sooner or later, He will seek us out and come for you. The time to fight draws near."
"What's the sign of the Revolution?"
U smiled at me. "You are."
Friday, March 31, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Chapter 6: "Reload"
Omigosh! It's already the 27th, and I haven't even pushed all of last month's posts out of the most recent posts you can see if you scroll down! Yikes! What a far cry from the mad, mad days of 2004 and early 2005 when I would do 20+ posts a month.
Oh, and by the way...screw the reCAPPENINGS. Don't pretend you'll miss them. =p
Archiver stepped forward, psyching U out by pretending to pounce. U didn't finch. He sure seemed overly calm for someone who was fighting a losing duel.
"YAH!" U charged with his sword raised.
"Fool! You already tried that!" Archiver reached for the sword and tried to grab it. However, U deftly lowered his sword and spun out of the way. When Archiver spun around to face him, he was no longer there.
"Buying time again. A foolish tactic to use against me."
He perked his ears and readied himself for U to show up. "Come on now," he swung his fist at the air around. "This would be a pitiful end to the first battle Garrick is watching. Eh, my child?" He winked at me.
That was all the opening U needed. He Pasted himself behind Archiver and delivered a swift kick to his knees, followed by a swipe of his sword. It struck him square on the back, forcing him on his knees.
"You have gotten quicker." He said through gritted teeth.
With agility you wouldn't expect from a frail old man Archiver sprang back to his feet and somehow managed to extend his grip around U's sword. U tried to wrench it away from his grasp, but he was too strong.
"Not good enough," Archiver drew the sword to himself, making U go forward. "I win again."
Even with both hands around the sword trying to wrest it back, U could still muster a smile. "That's what they all say before they burn, old man."
"What the..." Archiver's eyes went wide. With a furious roar he flung the sword in the air along with U. Only the sword came back down, embedding itself neatly into the ground.
"A Cut in mid air? How impressive. You sure have run out of tricks." Archiver sneered. "Time to start all over."
Everything stopped moving. He was Loading the scene again!
One second...two seconds...three seconds...suddenly I could feel a my hands jerking like hiccups. Before I knew it, they were shaking violently out of control. I looked around. It was happening to everything else in the scene as well! And this freeze sure was lasting longer than the previous one when Archiver Loaded.
Then I felt this incredible force tightening around my head. I tried resisting it, but it was rapidly grew so intense that I passed out.
Oh, and by the way...screw the reCAPPENINGS. Don't pretend you'll miss them. =p
Archiver stepped forward, psyching U out by pretending to pounce. U didn't finch. He sure seemed overly calm for someone who was fighting a losing duel.
"YAH!" U charged with his sword raised.
"Fool! You already tried that!" Archiver reached for the sword and tried to grab it. However, U deftly lowered his sword and spun out of the way. When Archiver spun around to face him, he was no longer there.
"Buying time again. A foolish tactic to use against me."
He perked his ears and readied himself for U to show up. "Come on now," he swung his fist at the air around. "This would be a pitiful end to the first battle Garrick is watching. Eh, my child?" He winked at me.
That was all the opening U needed. He Pasted himself behind Archiver and delivered a swift kick to his knees, followed by a swipe of his sword. It struck him square on the back, forcing him on his knees.
"You have gotten quicker." He said through gritted teeth.
With agility you wouldn't expect from a frail old man Archiver sprang back to his feet and somehow managed to extend his grip around U's sword. U tried to wrench it away from his grasp, but he was too strong.
"Not good enough," Archiver drew the sword to himself, making U go forward. "I win again."
Even with both hands around the sword trying to wrest it back, U could still muster a smile. "That's what they all say before they burn, old man."
"What the..." Archiver's eyes went wide. With a furious roar he flung the sword in the air along with U. Only the sword came back down, embedding itself neatly into the ground.
"A Cut in mid air? How impressive. You sure have run out of tricks." Archiver sneered. "Time to start all over."
Everything stopped moving. He was Loading the scene again!
One second...two seconds...three seconds...suddenly I could feel a my hands jerking like hiccups. Before I knew it, they were shaking violently out of control. I looked around. It was happening to everything else in the scene as well! And this freeze sure was lasting longer than the previous one when Archiver Loaded.
Then I felt this incredible force tightening around my head. I tried resisting it, but it was rapidly grew so intense that I passed out.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Chapter 5: "Loading"
Oh yeah! Sing along with me now, WELCOME WORKING WORLD! That's right, I finally got myself a job as a copywriter in a medium-scale ad agency opposite Mid Valley. Really gotta thank my brother (who recommended me the job as he knows someone there) and God (who well, did His God stuff =p), it's such a dream job in terms of working hours, transport, salary, learning experience and all! Starting work on April 3rd, let's hope that doesn't translate into even less blogging for me...
"You dare challenge me?" The Archiver's nostrils flared in rage. "It shall be the last thing you ever do!"
U charged forward and thrust his sword at him. Archiver caught it with one hand and punched him in the gut.
"What in the world..." U clutched his gut in pain.
"Surprised? Many things have changed since the last time we fought, you fool. He has bestowed me with far more powers than you could ever dream of. Give up, and go home. You cannot touch me."
"Hm." U got up and ran at him again. Moments before reaching him though, U vanished.
Archiver's eyes darted left and right. "You Cut yourself."
Pow! Without warning his left knee bended awkwardly, making him fall. As he tried to steady himself, another unseen force twisted his arm. He screamed in agony.
"You are finished." U reappeared, wrenching his arm behind his back. He held the tip of his sword at Archiver's throat. "Take me to Him now."
"Heh heh heh heh heh." Archiver cocked his mouth one side. "How quickly you forget, my dear."
Suddenly everything froze. I couldn't even move my eyelids. Another spell?
It lasted no more than five seconds, but what happened after that was truly weird. I found myself back beside the Archiver with U drawing out his sword. Just like before the fight started.
"In all my eternities as the Archiver of this land, I have lost only once. And that is because of the power of Save and Load which nobody but I possess."
Save and Load? What on earth was he talking about?
"Oh," Archiver glanced at me. "Our friend here wonders what the secret behind my Save and Load is."
"You see, as the Archiver who sees all and lives through all in this world, it was only fitting that He gave me the power to capture a single moment in time and relive it whenever I want. Only then, He deduced, would the precious moments of excellency never be lost."
"And I have taken this to a whole new level by incorporating it into my battles. You see, I never was the stongest or fastest fighter around, but no matter what my enemies do to me, all I need to do is to Load the scene before the battle began and we are back at square one. Time will run out on them eventually, but it never does for me."
My lips quivered at his words. Indeed, there was no way U could win if the Archiver kept reloading the scene.
"You seem perplexed." Archiver grinned at U. "Why not come over and find a way around my powers?"
U gripped his sword tightly and swallowed.
"You dare challenge me?" The Archiver's nostrils flared in rage. "It shall be the last thing you ever do!"
U charged forward and thrust his sword at him. Archiver caught it with one hand and punched him in the gut.
"What in the world..." U clutched his gut in pain.
"Surprised? Many things have changed since the last time we fought, you fool. He has bestowed me with far more powers than you could ever dream of. Give up, and go home. You cannot touch me."
"Hm." U got up and ran at him again. Moments before reaching him though, U vanished.
Archiver's eyes darted left and right. "You Cut yourself."
Pow! Without warning his left knee bended awkwardly, making him fall. As he tried to steady himself, another unseen force twisted his arm. He screamed in agony.
"You are finished." U reappeared, wrenching his arm behind his back. He held the tip of his sword at Archiver's throat. "Take me to Him now."
"Heh heh heh heh heh." Archiver cocked his mouth one side. "How quickly you forget, my dear."
Suddenly everything froze. I couldn't even move my eyelids. Another spell?
It lasted no more than five seconds, but what happened after that was truly weird. I found myself back beside the Archiver with U drawing out his sword. Just like before the fight started.
"In all my eternities as the Archiver of this land, I have lost only once. And that is because of the power of Save and Load which nobody but I possess."
Save and Load? What on earth was he talking about?
"Oh," Archiver glanced at me. "Our friend here wonders what the secret behind my Save and Load is."
"You see, as the Archiver who sees all and lives through all in this world, it was only fitting that He gave me the power to capture a single moment in time and relive it whenever I want. Only then, He deduced, would the precious moments of excellency never be lost."
"And I have taken this to a whole new level by incorporating it into my battles. You see, I never was the stongest or fastest fighter around, but no matter what my enemies do to me, all I need to do is to Load the scene before the battle began and we are back at square one. Time will run out on them eventually, but it never does for me."
My lips quivered at his words. Indeed, there was no way U could win if the Archiver kept reloading the scene.
"You seem perplexed." Archiver grinned at U. "Why not come over and find a way around my powers?"
U gripped his sword tightly and swallowed.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Chapter 4: "U"
Hello! It's been waaay too long since I last updated the story, so though I still claim a lack of inspiration and motivation, Chapter 4's coming at cha today.
Yesterday in church we had a disruption of power supply 20 minutes before Sunday service, and a big kudos to the worship team for managing to string together an impromptu song set of all hymns. It was kind of surreal really, having to worship with no microphones (save for a cheapo "pasar malam" one), PA system, air conditioning, and the little electric-powered things we take for granted. In an utterly nice way, of course.
But enough talk for now. Let's head on to where the action is.
I whirled around. It was a tough-looking guy who couldn't be much older than I was.
"I knew I would find you here," he said, quite out of breath. "My name is U."
"U?"
"Yes, U as in the letter U. I'm sure the Archiver has told you about Antagonists. Well, I was once one myself."
"Wait...then that makes you a bad person, right?"
"Not any more. Fortunately, when I fought my Protagonist he made me see how I was merely a pawn for the Writer. Eventually we teamed up and went on to defeat the Writer."
Slowly I began to understand. So this was the Antagonist of the guy who defeated the Writer, or the previous Him.
"But then where is your Protagonist now? Are you the only one left here?"
U looked dumbfounded. "Y-you mean you don't know?"
"Don't know what?"
"It's sad, really. My Protagonist went on to succeed the Writer as the new Him."
What? That guy was the new Him?
"Oh, now I get it!" I exclaimed excitedly. "The Writer brought your Protagonist in, but apparently he rebelled and joined forces with you to fight the Writer!"
"Bingo."
"And after he defeated the Writer, he went on to take his place as Him!"
"Precise to the last word."
Now that I had sorted out who this Him was and how he came about, something else befuddled me - was U working for the Him?
"Speaking with the enemy, I see." It was the Archiver!
I fidgeted back over to his side. Better the devil I knew than the devil I didn't.
"Garrick," murmured the Archiver. "Stay clear of this man. He is the enemy of our master, and he is mightily dangerous."
"Still as charming as ever with the newcomers, eh? You used the same lines on Him once, I believe."
"Save it, U. There is nothing you can do to stop the Revolution from happening, and you know it as well as I do. As well as He knows. As well as Garrick will soon know."
"You speak as though it were already a foregone conclusion. Not if I cut you down myself right here." Blurry sqaures formed and shaped themselves into a sword in his hands. "Prepare to fight!"
Yesterday in church we had a disruption of power supply 20 minutes before Sunday service, and a big kudos to the worship team for managing to string together an impromptu song set of all hymns. It was kind of surreal really, having to worship with no microphones (save for a cheapo "pasar malam" one), PA system, air conditioning, and the little electric-powered things we take for granted. In an utterly nice way, of course.
But enough talk for now. Let's head on to where the action is.
I whirled around. It was a tough-looking guy who couldn't be much older than I was.
"I knew I would find you here," he said, quite out of breath. "My name is U."
"U?"
"Yes, U as in the letter U. I'm sure the Archiver has told you about Antagonists. Well, I was once one myself."
"Wait...then that makes you a bad person, right?"
"Not any more. Fortunately, when I fought my Protagonist he made me see how I was merely a pawn for the Writer. Eventually we teamed up and went on to defeat the Writer."
Slowly I began to understand. So this was the Antagonist of the guy who defeated the Writer, or the previous Him.
"But then where is your Protagonist now? Are you the only one left here?"
U looked dumbfounded. "Y-you mean you don't know?"
"Don't know what?"
"It's sad, really. My Protagonist went on to succeed the Writer as the new Him."
What? That guy was the new Him?
"Oh, now I get it!" I exclaimed excitedly. "The Writer brought your Protagonist in, but apparently he rebelled and joined forces with you to fight the Writer!"
"Bingo."
"And after he defeated the Writer, he went on to take his place as Him!"
"Precise to the last word."
Now that I had sorted out who this Him was and how he came about, something else befuddled me - was U working for the Him?
"Speaking with the enemy, I see." It was the Archiver!
I fidgeted back over to his side. Better the devil I knew than the devil I didn't.
"Garrick," murmured the Archiver. "Stay clear of this man. He is the enemy of our master, and he is mightily dangerous."
"Still as charming as ever with the newcomers, eh? You used the same lines on Him once, I believe."
"Save it, U. There is nothing you can do to stop the Revolution from happening, and you know it as well as I do. As well as He knows. As well as Garrick will soon know."
"You speak as though it were already a foregone conclusion. Not if I cut you down myself right here." Blurry sqaures formed and shaped themselves into a sword in his hands. "Prepare to fight!"
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
A Ride On The LRT
This is an idea I had in my mind for a good few months now, I just never found the right message to nail it down with. Last week in 95 Percent though - sorry I never explained it to you guys, it's a part-time copywriting course I've been taking for six weeks - it finally hit me smack in the face when I presented my Cause To Champion and received some excellent feedback for it. My cause was ending racism in Malaysia and the way I saw it, governmental policies harking all the way back from the British colonisation was the root cause of segregation - and ultimately racism - in Malaysia.
A brilliant plan then alit, inspired mostly from my college second year Malaysian Cultural Studies where we had these small group discussions about May 13, ISA, national identity, and the like with a certain Marion D'Cruz and Mark Teh. These were basically issues I had never cared to give much thought to before, and it really opened up my eyes to the big picture that had never existed in our little coccooned worlds. Suffice to say, the three months that subject lasted were three of my most patriotic and wanting-to-make-a-difference months.
And my plan to overcome racism? To go round having these little discussion-cum-forums for teens all over Malaysia. In other words, issues which were swept under the carpet and deemed taboo would be slowly brought up again in the open for the next generation. After all, if they were going to bitch about it after work in the mamak stalls anyway, why not let them bitch publicly and channel the negative energy into a positive one? A foolproof plan, or so I thought.
It all became crystal clear on a ride on the LRT...
Bing Bong! "Stesen berikut, Sungai Besi." The LRT announcement guy mumbled in his usual incomprehensible tone.
The doors puffed and slid open, swallowing in an exodus of workers and students back from a long day. Those who were standing shifted uncomfortably to make space for them. Of course, most didn't bother and mind-numbingly continued clogging up the entrances. Dumb Malaysians.
An ominous beep sounded, counting down the five seconds before the doors shut again. The train whistled down the tracks, making everything whizz by too quickly.
I stared at the advertorial board plastered on the LRT wall. "CINTAI MALAYSIA" , it said. Feh. I took a good look at everyone again. How in the world do you Cintai Malaysia when everyone from the giggling schoolgirls in tudungs to the loud-mouthed Chinese towkay booming on his handphone for all to hear was sitting with their own kind?
Suddenly a crazy thought overpowered me beyond rationality.
"Hey!" I jumped up from my seat. "Look at all of you! Look at all of you, I said!"
Dead silence. A million pairs of eyes trained themselves on me.
"You!" I pointed at a Chinese lady in a tacky suit. "You despise him for his sepcial privileges, right?"
The Malay apek I was pointing at glared at me, indignant. "And you!" I continued at him. "You think she should just shut up and be happy that you're allowing her to stay in your land, don't you!"
Everyone looked to the ground and shifted uneasily.
"Speak up, you morons! You!" I pointed to an Indian schoolboy with his uniform untucked and messy. "You think I'm a self-righteous leech who only accepts my own culture, don't you! Well, I think you're a hopeless gangster destined to contribute to our country's escalating crime rate!"
A heavy hand slapped me on my shoulder. "Kau ni orang Cina memang bannyak tahu cakap je...siapa yang merdekakan negara ni, ha? Siapa? Bapak kau ke?" A moustached ustat burned his narrow eyes into mine. I swallowed.
"Malay pigs," Someone whispered too loudly. "So unrefined."
"Apa tu?"
A spectacled Chinese businessman stood up. "My father had to work himself to death beacuse your Malay government did everything they could to make life difficult for him. And how have you pigs repaid him? You can't even speak English, for God's sake!"
"You want to talk about working to death?" A pakcik in a skullcap roared, all red-faced. "My father was in the army fighting the communists for your satefy, and what were you Chinese doing? Planning how to suck us dry and hightail back to China? Ungrateful dogs!"
"Malay pigs!" Someone else shouted.
"Chinese dogs!"
Without warning a punch landed against the face of the ustat, making him fall to the ground. At once loud screams sounded as a group of Malays in the carriage got up from their seats and beat up the Chinese man responsible. A mad melee of fistfights and brawling ensued. I could only watch in horror at the sea of Malay and Chinese bodies swarming over and tearing into one another.
Crazed cries of Malai si and Hutang darah dibayar darah drowned out the terrified screams of the women and children clawing frantically at the shut doors. The handlebars were ripped out from their places and bashed against heads and stomachs, splattering the floor with blood. A bloody body was sent flying through the window to the tracks below, then another. And another. All cried out in agony as the speeding carriages crushed them to death.
Bing Bong! "Stesen berikut, Salak Selatan."
I nodded dreamily and opened my eyes for the umpteenth time. The Chinese towkay was still blabbering away too loudly for me to sleep. The ustat had started a conversation with his friend beside him as well. The advertorial still beamed "CINTAI MALAYSIA" proudly with a boy in a songkok with his fair and dark friends standing plasticly beside him. And all around, everyone was eager to get home safely.
Maybe when it comes to racism in Malaysia, doing nothing is the best thing.
A brilliant plan then alit, inspired mostly from my college second year Malaysian Cultural Studies where we had these small group discussions about May 13, ISA, national identity, and the like with a certain Marion D'Cruz and Mark Teh. These were basically issues I had never cared to give much thought to before, and it really opened up my eyes to the big picture that had never existed in our little coccooned worlds. Suffice to say, the three months that subject lasted were three of my most patriotic and wanting-to-make-a-difference months.
And my plan to overcome racism? To go round having these little discussion-cum-forums for teens all over Malaysia. In other words, issues which were swept under the carpet and deemed taboo would be slowly brought up again in the open for the next generation. After all, if they were going to bitch about it after work in the mamak stalls anyway, why not let them bitch publicly and channel the negative energy into a positive one? A foolproof plan, or so I thought.
It all became crystal clear on a ride on the LRT...
Bing Bong! "Stesen berikut, Sungai Besi." The LRT announcement guy mumbled in his usual incomprehensible tone.
The doors puffed and slid open, swallowing in an exodus of workers and students back from a long day. Those who were standing shifted uncomfortably to make space for them. Of course, most didn't bother and mind-numbingly continued clogging up the entrances. Dumb Malaysians.
An ominous beep sounded, counting down the five seconds before the doors shut again. The train whistled down the tracks, making everything whizz by too quickly.
I stared at the advertorial board plastered on the LRT wall. "CINTAI MALAYSIA" , it said. Feh. I took a good look at everyone again. How in the world do you Cintai Malaysia when everyone from the giggling schoolgirls in tudungs to the loud-mouthed Chinese towkay booming on his handphone for all to hear was sitting with their own kind?
Suddenly a crazy thought overpowered me beyond rationality.
"Hey!" I jumped up from my seat. "Look at all of you! Look at all of you, I said!"
Dead silence. A million pairs of eyes trained themselves on me.
"You!" I pointed at a Chinese lady in a tacky suit. "You despise him for his sepcial privileges, right?"
The Malay apek I was pointing at glared at me, indignant. "And you!" I continued at him. "You think she should just shut up and be happy that you're allowing her to stay in your land, don't you!"
Everyone looked to the ground and shifted uneasily.
"Speak up, you morons! You!" I pointed to an Indian schoolboy with his uniform untucked and messy. "You think I'm a self-righteous leech who only accepts my own culture, don't you! Well, I think you're a hopeless gangster destined to contribute to our country's escalating crime rate!"
A heavy hand slapped me on my shoulder. "Kau ni orang Cina memang bannyak tahu cakap je...siapa yang merdekakan negara ni, ha? Siapa? Bapak kau ke?" A moustached ustat burned his narrow eyes into mine. I swallowed.
"Malay pigs," Someone whispered too loudly. "So unrefined."
"Apa tu?"
A spectacled Chinese businessman stood up. "My father had to work himself to death beacuse your Malay government did everything they could to make life difficult for him. And how have you pigs repaid him? You can't even speak English, for God's sake!"
"You want to talk about working to death?" A pakcik in a skullcap roared, all red-faced. "My father was in the army fighting the communists for your satefy, and what were you Chinese doing? Planning how to suck us dry and hightail back to China? Ungrateful dogs!"
"Malay pigs!" Someone else shouted.
"Chinese dogs!"
Without warning a punch landed against the face of the ustat, making him fall to the ground. At once loud screams sounded as a group of Malays in the carriage got up from their seats and beat up the Chinese man responsible. A mad melee of fistfights and brawling ensued. I could only watch in horror at the sea of Malay and Chinese bodies swarming over and tearing into one another.
Crazed cries of Malai si and Hutang darah dibayar darah drowned out the terrified screams of the women and children clawing frantically at the shut doors. The handlebars were ripped out from their places and bashed against heads and stomachs, splattering the floor with blood. A bloody body was sent flying through the window to the tracks below, then another. And another. All cried out in agony as the speeding carriages crushed them to death.
Bing Bong! "Stesen berikut, Salak Selatan."
I nodded dreamily and opened my eyes for the umpteenth time. The Chinese towkay was still blabbering away too loudly for me to sleep. The ustat had started a conversation with his friend beside him as well. The advertorial still beamed "CINTAI MALAYSIA" proudly with a boy in a songkok with his fair and dark friends standing plasticly beside him. And all around, everyone was eager to get home safely.
Maybe when it comes to racism in Malaysia, doing nothing is the best thing.
Writer's Block
Dang, I was hoping not to do any non-Chapter posts (preambles, Writer's Blocks, poems etc) for this entire story to give it a more "realistic" feel, but...stuff happens, you know. Heh heh.
My past week went from being a terribly low one to peaking at a nice little high on Sunday. High or low however, it was all non-stop breakneck speed from the unbearable church 30th anniversary souvenir booklet design deadline to my computer threatening to die at anytime to even the flurry of copywriting classes BOTH in college and 95 Percent (this is gonna take some explaining). Then on Saturday came my graduation ceremony plus dinner, followed by almost the entire Batch 26 storming into an overcrowded Halo Cafe. The grand finale? Not quite yet. That came on Sunday, where I groggily woke up on Sunday at 6.30am and rode all the way to Port Dickson for Gospel Camp one day late. Of course, it was already the second day where you had games, games, and more games. Urgh.
But much as I expected myself to be dead tired and all stressed out by the time Monday came along, I was actually quite "feeling it". Yeah, dead tired was a given but I don't think I've felt more relaxed and happy in a long time. Sure, some of the games we organised reeked of last minute preparations and sounds-good-on-paper-only, but the newcomers seemed to have a fun time! And thank God really, that the way the participants played Capture The Flag fitted perfectly into our message of how everyone has broken the rules and sinned in their lives. Not to mention Mafia as well! It's now like the official "unofficial" game of camps. =^)
Okay, that's all for now...gotta catch some sleep. Will update later in the day - stay safe, kiddos!
My past week went from being a terribly low one to peaking at a nice little high on Sunday. High or low however, it was all non-stop breakneck speed from the unbearable church 30th anniversary souvenir booklet design deadline to my computer threatening to die at anytime to even the flurry of copywriting classes BOTH in college and 95 Percent (this is gonna take some explaining). Then on Saturday came my graduation ceremony plus dinner, followed by almost the entire Batch 26 storming into an overcrowded Halo Cafe. The grand finale? Not quite yet. That came on Sunday, where I groggily woke up on Sunday at 6.30am and rode all the way to Port Dickson for Gospel Camp one day late. Of course, it was already the second day where you had games, games, and more games. Urgh.
But much as I expected myself to be dead tired and all stressed out by the time Monday came along, I was actually quite "feeling it". Yeah, dead tired was a given but I don't think I've felt more relaxed and happy in a long time. Sure, some of the games we organised reeked of last minute preparations and sounds-good-on-paper-only, but the newcomers seemed to have a fun time! And thank God really, that the way the participants played Capture The Flag fitted perfectly into our message of how everyone has broken the rules and sinned in their lives. Not to mention Mafia as well! It's now like the official "unofficial" game of camps. =^)
Okay, that's all for now...gotta catch some sleep. Will update later in the day - stay safe, kiddos!
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Chapter 3: "History"
"Whoa!" I expected the usual spiral staircase going downstairs, but only barren brown earth met my eyes. What had happened to my house?
"You are no longer in your world, of course," The Archiver answered my thoughts. "Welcome to Blogspot! A world where only excellent things happen. Then we tear them down and make even more excellent things happen. Excellency never ends."
Oh-kayy. I nodded cluelessly.
"You do not comprehend, of course, for you have yet to meet Him. Absolutely understandable."
"Erm...Archiver?"
"Yes?"
"Who exactly is this He or Him that we're meeting? And what am I supposed to do when I meet Him?"
He stopped in his tracks and cackled softly. "You are asking too much for your own good, my child. Just like how He once did."
"Just like how He once did? You mean, you brought Him into Blogspot as well?"
"Why yes, I did," The old man stroked his beard. "For entirely different reasons, though. You see, the previous He, also known as the Writer, had another idea to bring back glory to Blogspot. He took in people from your world and created Antagonists - exact replicas of those people, just evil. The people who came in would then seek out their Antagonists and battle them, providing Him with the great stories that He desired so."
My mouth grew wide in amazement.
"Then He had another bigger, wilder idea. Unlike the previous people He brought in who were weak and easy to manipulate, He would bring in someone that was strong-minded and rebellious in nature. The mere thought of having such a character battling his Antagonist made us tremble in anticipation."
"Heh heh heh heh heh," Archiver laughed so hard his whole body shook. "Glorious days! What glorious days they were! OH, YES THEY WERE! HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
Suddenly his euphoria evaporated. His eyes flared with a consuming rage. "That is all you need to know. That He I mentioned is gone, and now we have a new He."
He marched onward in an apparent temper, leaving me behind utterly clueless. Maybe the best thing to do was to tag along and not ask too much till we met Him.
"Pst!" Out of nowhere a finger tapped my shoulder sharply, making me jump.
"You are no longer in your world, of course," The Archiver answered my thoughts. "Welcome to Blogspot! A world where only excellent things happen. Then we tear them down and make even more excellent things happen. Excellency never ends."
Oh-kayy. I nodded cluelessly.
"You do not comprehend, of course, for you have yet to meet Him. Absolutely understandable."
"Erm...Archiver?"
"Yes?"
"Who exactly is this He or Him that we're meeting? And what am I supposed to do when I meet Him?"
He stopped in his tracks and cackled softly. "You are asking too much for your own good, my child. Just like how He once did."
"Just like how He once did? You mean, you brought Him into Blogspot as well?"
"Why yes, I did," The old man stroked his beard. "For entirely different reasons, though. You see, the previous He, also known as the Writer, had another idea to bring back glory to Blogspot. He took in people from your world and created Antagonists - exact replicas of those people, just evil. The people who came in would then seek out their Antagonists and battle them, providing Him with the great stories that He desired so."
My mouth grew wide in amazement.
"Then He had another bigger, wilder idea. Unlike the previous people He brought in who were weak and easy to manipulate, He would bring in someone that was strong-minded and rebellious in nature. The mere thought of having such a character battling his Antagonist made us tremble in anticipation."
"Heh heh heh heh heh," Archiver laughed so hard his whole body shook. "Glorious days! What glorious days they were! OH, YES THEY WERE! HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
Suddenly his euphoria evaporated. His eyes flared with a consuming rage. "That is all you need to know. That He I mentioned is gone, and now we have a new He."
He marched onward in an apparent temper, leaving me behind utterly clueless. Maybe the best thing to do was to tag along and not ask too much till we met Him.
"Pst!" Out of nowhere a finger tapped my shoulder sharply, making me jump.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Chapter 2: "Revolutions"
I went agape, dumbfounded at how this scraggly old man with a ridiculously long beard could've materialised out of nowhere in my room.
"Who in the world am I?" he grinned like a madman. "I already told you, I'm the Archiver. But perhaps that does not suffice as a proper introduction."
"Are you familiar with the Blogspot Revolution?"
"Nuh-uh."
"It has happened only twice before. The first time around, He was successful and it spawned an utterly mad flurry of blogs around the world, mushrooming faster than anyone could have imagined. I was there; I watched on proudly as each blog was created and lovingly authored into becoming a part of everyone's lives."
"Then years went by, many new Hes came and went, but none were able to grab Blogspot by the reins and steer it to true greatness. I wanted so much for that to happen...but all that happened was the downward spiral. Blogging became a dirty word. Everyone associated it with mediocrity and irrelevancy. The second Revolution was just waiting to come about. Eventually it did, but something went wrong."
"It failed," he shook his head sadly. "I could not believe my eyes when Climax City burned to the ground and this one boy - just one boy, mind you - defeated our Writer."
He paused, presumably wiping a tear from his white eyes.
"But you see, some good did come out of it. Because of the failure of the second Revolution, the seeds have been planted for a third. Now, nobody in the world knows it yet but something big is about to happen; something that will change the way everyone perceives blogging. All He needs is someone who shares the same passion like we do. Together, we will rid Blogspot of all that has tarnished it and restore the glorious days that once were! What say you?"
I didn't even hesitate to answer. "Sure thing."
"Excellent, truly excellent. Follow me."
I stepped out of the door of my room behind him.
"Who in the world am I?" he grinned like a madman. "I already told you, I'm the Archiver. But perhaps that does not suffice as a proper introduction."
"Are you familiar with the Blogspot Revolution?"
"Nuh-uh."
"It has happened only twice before. The first time around, He was successful and it spawned an utterly mad flurry of blogs around the world, mushrooming faster than anyone could have imagined. I was there; I watched on proudly as each blog was created and lovingly authored into becoming a part of everyone's lives."
"Then years went by, many new Hes came and went, but none were able to grab Blogspot by the reins and steer it to true greatness. I wanted so much for that to happen...but all that happened was the downward spiral. Blogging became a dirty word. Everyone associated it with mediocrity and irrelevancy. The second Revolution was just waiting to come about. Eventually it did, but something went wrong."
"It failed," he shook his head sadly. "I could not believe my eyes when Climax City burned to the ground and this one boy - just one boy, mind you - defeated our Writer."
He paused, presumably wiping a tear from his white eyes.
"But you see, some good did come out of it. Because of the failure of the second Revolution, the seeds have been planted for a third. Now, nobody in the world knows it yet but something big is about to happen; something that will change the way everyone perceives blogging. All He needs is someone who shares the same passion like we do. Together, we will rid Blogspot of all that has tarnished it and restore the glorious days that once were! What say you?"
I didn't even hesitate to answer. "Sure thing."
"Excellent, truly excellent. Follow me."
I stepped out of the door of my room behind him.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Chapter 1: "Back"
"Sheesh." I half-winced and headed straight for the "back" button as the words "Welcome To My World" flashed across the screen with dancing ponies galloping round star-shaped icons. Not another soppy, generic blog.
My name is Garrick and I am, as you might guess, an on-holiday 18 year old who doesn't have much of a social life. For the past month, most of my mornings and afternoons have been spent dropping by random blogs of friends of friends of friends. Before you shake your head and dismiss me as yet another idle loser, let me assure you that that is the most productive way of spending time within the four walls that make up my house, apart from playing Minesweeper or Solaitre.
Love Is Life, To Live Is To Love. Meh...next!
The World According To Jason The Great. Ugh.
My Blog, My Life. Whoa. How original.
The Crazy Blog. Rrrrrrite.
My, my. What a pitiful state of things. I had barely been reading actively for a month and already there didn't seem to be anything new on offer. The last interesting blog I read, apart from my own, had been this one where some guy wrote fictional stories and updated them chapterly as posts. And that was a good five days ago.
Then suddenly a link from Enter If You Dare caught my eye. Squeezed obscurely between names of people who sounded like wannabe-bimbos or boy band members was a link that got my ears prickling a little. It was just simply, "Blogspot". No description, nothing out of the ordinary. But still I couldn't help feeling mightily curious.
So click went my mouse, and the address bar on top read: http://www.blogspot.blogspot.com/. "What the...well, this guy's sure got a creative bone in him."
"The requested URL was not found on this server. Please visit the Blogger homepage or the Blogger Knowledge Base for further assistance."
Phooey. All that hype for nothing. I led my cursor to the "Back" button, clicked it, and SWOOSH! Like a pop-up ad a bearded old man appeared out of nowhere beside me. Only that he couldn't be X-ed away or blocked.
"Hi there," He flashed his bad row of teeth. "I'm the Archiver."
My name is Garrick and I am, as you might guess, an on-holiday 18 year old who doesn't have much of a social life. For the past month, most of my mornings and afternoons have been spent dropping by random blogs of friends of friends of friends. Before you shake your head and dismiss me as yet another idle loser, let me assure you that that is the most productive way of spending time within the four walls that make up my house, apart from playing Minesweeper or Solaitre.
Love Is Life, To Live Is To Love. Meh...next!
The World According To Jason The Great. Ugh.
My Blog, My Life. Whoa. How original.
The Crazy Blog. Rrrrrrite.
My, my. What a pitiful state of things. I had barely been reading actively for a month and already there didn't seem to be anything new on offer. The last interesting blog I read, apart from my own, had been this one where some guy wrote fictional stories and updated them chapterly as posts. And that was a good five days ago.
Then suddenly a link from Enter If You Dare caught my eye. Squeezed obscurely between names of people who sounded like wannabe-bimbos or boy band members was a link that got my ears prickling a little. It was just simply, "Blogspot". No description, nothing out of the ordinary. But still I couldn't help feeling mightily curious.
So click went my mouse, and the address bar on top read: http://www.blogspot.blogspot.com/. "What the...well, this guy's sure got a creative bone in him."
"The requested URL was not found on this server. Please visit the Blogger homepage or the Blogger Knowledge Base for further assistance."
Phooey. All that hype for nothing. I led my cursor to the "Back" button, clicked it, and SWOOSH! Like a pop-up ad a bearded old man appeared out of nowhere beside me. Only that he couldn't be X-ed away or blocked.
"Hi there," He flashed his bad row of teeth. "I'm the Archiver."
Friday, February 24, 2006
Writer's Block
I'm back!
Oh, wait...I probably shouldn't be saying that. I've come across more than a few blogs which had that as their final post before they died off. So nope nope, I'm not back, just that I'm posting a little later than I should.
Okayyy...I was hoping I wouldn't need to mention this, but it has been more than a week since I posted my presumably mind-blowing finale to The New Girl and...yeah. You know what I mean.
All around me it seems that blogs are dying...even my own. Has blogging outlived its usefulness? Has society finally caught on to how there are much more meaningful ways to spend your free time than describing your day which no one cares about and ranting on social issues designed only to make you appear informed and intellectual?
Maybe. Maybe not.
(At this point the writer pauses and stares at the screen for twenty minutes. I kid you not.)
That's it! THAT'S IT! Why, oh WHY didn't I think of it before?
Ladies and gentlemen, my next story...Blogspot 2.
Oh, wait...I probably shouldn't be saying that. I've come across more than a few blogs which had that as their final post before they died off. So nope nope, I'm not back, just that I'm posting a little later than I should.
Okayyy...I was hoping I wouldn't need to mention this, but it has been more than a week since I posted my presumably mind-blowing finale to The New Girl and...yeah. You know what I mean.
All around me it seems that blogs are dying...even my own. Has blogging outlived its usefulness? Has society finally caught on to how there are much more meaningful ways to spend your free time than describing your day which no one cares about and ranting on social issues designed only to make you appear informed and intellectual?
Maybe. Maybe not.
(At this point the writer pauses and stares at the screen for twenty minutes. I kid you not.)
That's it! THAT'S IT! Why, oh WHY didn't I think of it before?
Ladies and gentlemen, my next story...Blogspot 2.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Where Do We Go From Here?
Where do we go from here?
This isn't where we intended to be
We had it all, you believed in me
I believed in you
Certainties disappear
What do we do for our dream to survive?
How do we keep all our passions alive,
As we used to do?
Deep in my heart I'm concealing
Things that I'm longing to say
Scared to confess what I'm feeling
Frightened you'll slip away
You must love me
You must love me
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I'll let you see how
Nothing has changed
Deep in my heart I'm concealing
Things that I'm longing to say
Scared to confess what I'm feeling
Frightened you'll slip away
You must love me
You must love me
You must love me
Okay...so this is my first time ever posting song lyrics on my blog like regular people do. Welcome back to the mainstream, Twisted Tales. =p
For some reason this song You Must Love Me from Evita has been playing over and over in my mind for the past few days. Not that anyone I'm in love with has left me or something, but there's just something about the first line which asks where do we go from here that gets my goosebumps a-tingling.
Sigh...that's such a difficult question for me these days in all aspects - from my working life to my walk with God, and to even yes, this blog here. Maybe this Daniel has a thing or two to learn about facing changes from the Daniel in the Old Testament.
This isn't where we intended to be
We had it all, you believed in me
I believed in you
Certainties disappear
What do we do for our dream to survive?
How do we keep all our passions alive,
As we used to do?
Deep in my heart I'm concealing
Things that I'm longing to say
Scared to confess what I'm feeling
Frightened you'll slip away
You must love me
You must love me
Why are you at my side?
How can I be any use to you now?
Give me a chance and I'll let you see how
Nothing has changed
Deep in my heart I'm concealing
Things that I'm longing to say
Scared to confess what I'm feeling
Frightened you'll slip away
You must love me
You must love me
You must love me
Okay...so this is my first time ever posting song lyrics on my blog like regular people do. Welcome back to the mainstream, Twisted Tales. =p
For some reason this song You Must Love Me from Evita has been playing over and over in my mind for the past few days. Not that anyone I'm in love with has left me or something, but there's just something about the first line which asks where do we go from here that gets my goosebumps a-tingling.
Sigh...that's such a difficult question for me these days in all aspects - from my working life to my walk with God, and to even yes, this blog here. Maybe this Daniel has a thing or two to learn about facing changes from the Daniel in the Old Testament.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 28 (Conclusion)
If you'll be kind enough to check the archives, you'll realise like I did that it's been an exact 11 months since I last posted a story conclusion. This ain't no pre-planned anniversary thingy I'm telling ya, everything was written in the stars. So pardon me if I'm a teensy bit jumpy and blabbery in my preamble today...
Was feeling majorly down for the most part of yesterday and today due to this personality test which pencilled me down as (horrors!) the "thinker" sort who's boring, meticulous, one-plus-one-equals-to-two, and (not my words, mind you) "refers to manuals while having sex". Argh. I mean, like, really ARGH.
After the usual soak, rinse, and dry routine of being dumbfounded at the result, then feeling as though all the things I ever liked and prided about myself were a huge self-pleasing scam, and then reflecting on all the times in my life when this part of my personality had been dominant, the funny thing is this: I would have no qualms about being the "thinker" sort in primary school, and neither would anyone who knew me. I was, in short, the kid who always received encyclopedias and "Here's More Tell Me Why" books for Christmas. Sad, but I didn't know better. Secondary school, college, and my time in church (which coincides with college till now) would be when I made a name for myself more as the funny/ creative/ lame/ crazy fellow - take your pick. "Thinker" was always in there, but very much under wraps to those who didn't know me well enough. And now here I am back again at "thinker". The more things change, the more they stay the same?
One of the conclusions I came to this morning was that no matter how much I try surrounding myself with artsy stuff and humour, the black-or-white dude who is unable to just "let go" and "feel" lives on. And before you think I'm overreacting to a dubious personality test, let me tell you that this wasn't a one shot incident, it's been hinted at me slightly for quite a while now.
And here's the funniest thing of the whole issue - back when I was at the pinnacle of lame, I always resented not being taken seriously enough. And now that I'm drifting back to the OPPOSITE of lame, heh heh...you get what I mean.
Oh well...perhaps Joey McIntyre got it right after all.
May held her breath as she uncapped the black marker. She could take the funny medicine odours in the hospital pharmacy with enough practice, but the choking smell of thinner was something she'd always resented since that time she helped her dad fill up petrol.
Dad. Mom. It's been a while since they came. I wonder how they're doing now.
She leaned over to the calendar by the window sill which filtered some of the sun's inquisitive rays and put a big "X" over today's date. It wasn't a big day, nor did it bear much significance any more. Maybe it did two years ago, but not today - three years since that fateful day in the garden.
Jean wouldn't stop crying that night. She kept holding on to May's shoulders, not wanting to let go even when the police and paramedics finally arrived. It was a scene that would be burnt into May's mind forever - the moment they handcuffed her before her auntie who never said a single word. As she was escorted to the police car Jean turned to her, a sorrowful smile taking the place of her sobs. She, in return, shook her head and walked away. It was hard to tell who was more regretful of the way things turned out.
And surprise, surprise, the paramedics found a pulse in Saras. May hitched a ride on the ambulance to the hospital where they wheeled her straight into the emergency room. However, the damage had been done. The prolonged asphyxia, or what the doctors told her was lack of oxygen to the body, had left her severely handicapped mentally. Her parents, being both financially and time constrained, made the heartbreaking decision to have her sent to a government institution in the capital to be taken care of.
Most unfortunately for May, her age never returned to normal even after the secret garden disappeared. Not wanting to stay on in the town and be reminded of all the terrible things that had happened, she chose to move out to the capital herself and volunteer as a nurse in the institution where Saras was in. It was a choice that her parents strongly objected to, but May believed that she was now old enough to make her own decisions. Strangely, the rapid aging had matured her mind as well. She could now latch on to things and examine different perspectives much faster than she could when she was sixteen (granted, she still was technically sixteen). It had taken a very long time for May to come to terms with how the best years of her life were gone just like that. No prom nights, no double dates, no hanging out with friends till the wee hours in the morning. However, every day she woke up May made herself count one blessing that she had swept beneath her losses. Well, at least i didn't age as much as that Misha girl. Well, some people don't even get to live to sixteen. Well, I can still walk on my two feet and hold a proper job. Who am I to be complaining? Look at poor Saras.
And before she knew it, three years passed.
Then another. And another. And another. So many anothers that she did not bother counting any more. Her parents stopped visiting her a long time ago. So had Saras'. May didn't mind, though. There was enough to do in the institution to keep her busy and fulfilled. Sadly for Saras, her physical condition was deteriorating as well as mentally. Even sitting up became a challenge for her. "Don't you give up yet." May always told her. "Not till I give up on myself."
But words alone weren't enough to mask the truth. One still night, without anyone knowing, Saras left the world.
It wasn't that May never imagined this happening, but you never can prepare for death. It hit her hard for a few months, losing her only remaining friend from St. Francesca's Girl School. Now she truly felt alone, disconnected from her past. Without a past there didn't seem to be a future as well.
Gradually her disillusionment showed up in her work, so much so that she could not continue doing the only thing that had kept her going all these years - nursing. Barely two weeks from her termination notice, May Leong See Mei was found passed out from an overdose of prescription pills. Being an experienced druggist, there was no way she would have taken too few. No farewell notes or sentimental touches; May had left with no baggage whatsoever from this world. The coroner estimated her physical age to be 60.
Now that would be fitting enough as an end to this twisted tale, don't you think? No? Huh? Was there anything left unresolved?
Why, yes...now I remember. Jean.
Now, here's what happened to Jean.
Neither Saras nor May ever saw her again after that day, and vice versa. She was subsequently charged in juvenile court for attempted murder and sentenced to twelve years. Most would agree that she was extremely fortunate to have escaped life imprisonment or death due to her being a junior, and that Saras did not die.
Juvenille centres aren't exactly the best places to spend your teenage years in. Whether you were the strong type, the silent type, or the fearful type, getting bullied was a certainty if you were new there. The ways the other girls intimidated and ragged her made what Saras did seem like child's play. A favourite trick of theirs was "Liquid X", where a certain liquid would be poured into her food while she was blindfolded, and then having her guess what it was by tasting the food. Of course, Liquid X was very rarely water.
So many times she had stared at her bony wrists, wondering whether she could end it all like they did in the movies.
"We all have things we don't like about our lives, and it's how we go about them that make some people happier than others. You've been trying to hide, trying to run away all your life. There's a real world out there and you need to face it."
These words, which Jean never understood till May hugged her with so much compassion were all she held on to in the worst times of her life. She had to take whatever life threw at her the best she could and live on till she met May again. May would be so proud of her if she made it through this.
Jean was eventually released after seven years on account of good behaviour. As she stepped through the prison gates which had held her captive for a good part of her youth, she didn't know what to feel. She had nothing to begin with, and now she still had nothing to start over with. It was like a clean slate being wiped out white again. All she knew was that she had to seek out May and thank her.
However life has a way of giving you the best when you expect the worst. Out of nowhere Jean found out that she had inherited half a million ringgit from her late parents, to be given to her on her 21st birthday. After a fruitless few months of searching for May, Jean forgot about her and kept herself busy with the mini fortune. With an uncannily imaginative mind that very few people had and a mixture of being at the right place at the right time, Jean Khoo found herself the head of a chain of amusement parks around the country just ten years after being released from juvenille prison. Her amusement parks were not regular bang-zoom parks with rides and carnivals. They were Secret Gardens - places where you could hide from all the fears and troubles of the outside world. You did not have to share the Secret Garden with everyone else; it was yours and yours alone. And a best friend or two, probably.
Gradually as the years piled on top of each other and the prospect of expanding the business internationally grew more and more exciting, May was pushed so far back in Jean's mind that she forgot that the girl had existed. This was probably when May and Saras passed away.
Sometimes when you are wearied enough of the world and the people in it, your personal Secret Garden blooms somewhere only you know. Now, it doesn't happen often and you only see it if you put a whole lot of faith in it. It isn't always a lush flowery meadow like what Jean's was, everyone has it written in some hidden corner of their mind what their own Secret Garden will look like.
For the lucky few who have been there, and have been patient to stay long enough for the wind to die down and nightfall to cover, the fairies always paint the story of three unusually bright stars in the sky for them to hear. The story of three girls - one who drove the other to seek her Secret Garden, one who gave her life to help the other break free of the Secret Garden, and one who held on to all the Garden had taught her.
THE END
At this point the writer decides that the title of this story is hereby changed to "The Secret Garden". Frances Hodgson who?
Was feeling majorly down for the most part of yesterday and today due to this personality test which pencilled me down as (horrors!) the "thinker" sort who's boring, meticulous, one-plus-one-equals-to-two, and (not my words, mind you) "refers to manuals while having sex". Argh. I mean, like, really ARGH.
After the usual soak, rinse, and dry routine of being dumbfounded at the result, then feeling as though all the things I ever liked and prided about myself were a huge self-pleasing scam, and then reflecting on all the times in my life when this part of my personality had been dominant, the funny thing is this: I would have no qualms about being the "thinker" sort in primary school, and neither would anyone who knew me. I was, in short, the kid who always received encyclopedias and "Here's More Tell Me Why" books for Christmas. Sad, but I didn't know better. Secondary school, college, and my time in church (which coincides with college till now) would be when I made a name for myself more as the funny/ creative/ lame/ crazy fellow - take your pick. "Thinker" was always in there, but very much under wraps to those who didn't know me well enough. And now here I am back again at "thinker". The more things change, the more they stay the same?
One of the conclusions I came to this morning was that no matter how much I try surrounding myself with artsy stuff and humour, the black-or-white dude who is unable to just "let go" and "feel" lives on. And before you think I'm overreacting to a dubious personality test, let me tell you that this wasn't a one shot incident, it's been hinted at me slightly for quite a while now.
And here's the funniest thing of the whole issue - back when I was at the pinnacle of lame, I always resented not being taken seriously enough. And now that I'm drifting back to the OPPOSITE of lame, heh heh...you get what I mean.
Oh well...perhaps Joey McIntyre got it right after all.
May held her breath as she uncapped the black marker. She could take the funny medicine odours in the hospital pharmacy with enough practice, but the choking smell of thinner was something she'd always resented since that time she helped her dad fill up petrol.
Dad. Mom. It's been a while since they came. I wonder how they're doing now.
She leaned over to the calendar by the window sill which filtered some of the sun's inquisitive rays and put a big "X" over today's date. It wasn't a big day, nor did it bear much significance any more. Maybe it did two years ago, but not today - three years since that fateful day in the garden.
Jean wouldn't stop crying that night. She kept holding on to May's shoulders, not wanting to let go even when the police and paramedics finally arrived. It was a scene that would be burnt into May's mind forever - the moment they handcuffed her before her auntie who never said a single word. As she was escorted to the police car Jean turned to her, a sorrowful smile taking the place of her sobs. She, in return, shook her head and walked away. It was hard to tell who was more regretful of the way things turned out.
And surprise, surprise, the paramedics found a pulse in Saras. May hitched a ride on the ambulance to the hospital where they wheeled her straight into the emergency room. However, the damage had been done. The prolonged asphyxia, or what the doctors told her was lack of oxygen to the body, had left her severely handicapped mentally. Her parents, being both financially and time constrained, made the heartbreaking decision to have her sent to a government institution in the capital to be taken care of.
Most unfortunately for May, her age never returned to normal even after the secret garden disappeared. Not wanting to stay on in the town and be reminded of all the terrible things that had happened, she chose to move out to the capital herself and volunteer as a nurse in the institution where Saras was in. It was a choice that her parents strongly objected to, but May believed that she was now old enough to make her own decisions. Strangely, the rapid aging had matured her mind as well. She could now latch on to things and examine different perspectives much faster than she could when she was sixteen (granted, she still was technically sixteen). It had taken a very long time for May to come to terms with how the best years of her life were gone just like that. No prom nights, no double dates, no hanging out with friends till the wee hours in the morning. However, every day she woke up May made herself count one blessing that she had swept beneath her losses. Well, at least i didn't age as much as that Misha girl. Well, some people don't even get to live to sixteen. Well, I can still walk on my two feet and hold a proper job. Who am I to be complaining? Look at poor Saras.
And before she knew it, three years passed.
Then another. And another. And another. So many anothers that she did not bother counting any more. Her parents stopped visiting her a long time ago. So had Saras'. May didn't mind, though. There was enough to do in the institution to keep her busy and fulfilled. Sadly for Saras, her physical condition was deteriorating as well as mentally. Even sitting up became a challenge for her. "Don't you give up yet." May always told her. "Not till I give up on myself."
But words alone weren't enough to mask the truth. One still night, without anyone knowing, Saras left the world.
It wasn't that May never imagined this happening, but you never can prepare for death. It hit her hard for a few months, losing her only remaining friend from St. Francesca's Girl School. Now she truly felt alone, disconnected from her past. Without a past there didn't seem to be a future as well.
Gradually her disillusionment showed up in her work, so much so that she could not continue doing the only thing that had kept her going all these years - nursing. Barely two weeks from her termination notice, May Leong See Mei was found passed out from an overdose of prescription pills. Being an experienced druggist, there was no way she would have taken too few. No farewell notes or sentimental touches; May had left with no baggage whatsoever from this world. The coroner estimated her physical age to be 60.
Now that would be fitting enough as an end to this twisted tale, don't you think? No? Huh? Was there anything left unresolved?
Why, yes...now I remember. Jean.
Now, here's what happened to Jean.
Neither Saras nor May ever saw her again after that day, and vice versa. She was subsequently charged in juvenile court for attempted murder and sentenced to twelve years. Most would agree that she was extremely fortunate to have escaped life imprisonment or death due to her being a junior, and that Saras did not die.
Juvenille centres aren't exactly the best places to spend your teenage years in. Whether you were the strong type, the silent type, or the fearful type, getting bullied was a certainty if you were new there. The ways the other girls intimidated and ragged her made what Saras did seem like child's play. A favourite trick of theirs was "Liquid X", where a certain liquid would be poured into her food while she was blindfolded, and then having her guess what it was by tasting the food. Of course, Liquid X was very rarely water.
So many times she had stared at her bony wrists, wondering whether she could end it all like they did in the movies.
"We all have things we don't like about our lives, and it's how we go about them that make some people happier than others. You've been trying to hide, trying to run away all your life. There's a real world out there and you need to face it."
These words, which Jean never understood till May hugged her with so much compassion were all she held on to in the worst times of her life. She had to take whatever life threw at her the best she could and live on till she met May again. May would be so proud of her if she made it through this.
Jean was eventually released after seven years on account of good behaviour. As she stepped through the prison gates which had held her captive for a good part of her youth, she didn't know what to feel. She had nothing to begin with, and now she still had nothing to start over with. It was like a clean slate being wiped out white again. All she knew was that she had to seek out May and thank her.
However life has a way of giving you the best when you expect the worst. Out of nowhere Jean found out that she had inherited half a million ringgit from her late parents, to be given to her on her 21st birthday. After a fruitless few months of searching for May, Jean forgot about her and kept herself busy with the mini fortune. With an uncannily imaginative mind that very few people had and a mixture of being at the right place at the right time, Jean Khoo found herself the head of a chain of amusement parks around the country just ten years after being released from juvenille prison. Her amusement parks were not regular bang-zoom parks with rides and carnivals. They were Secret Gardens - places where you could hide from all the fears and troubles of the outside world. You did not have to share the Secret Garden with everyone else; it was yours and yours alone. And a best friend or two, probably.
Gradually as the years piled on top of each other and the prospect of expanding the business internationally grew more and more exciting, May was pushed so far back in Jean's mind that she forgot that the girl had existed. This was probably when May and Saras passed away.
Sometimes when you are wearied enough of the world and the people in it, your personal Secret Garden blooms somewhere only you know. Now, it doesn't happen often and you only see it if you put a whole lot of faith in it. It isn't always a lush flowery meadow like what Jean's was, everyone has it written in some hidden corner of their mind what their own Secret Garden will look like.
For the lucky few who have been there, and have been patient to stay long enough for the wind to die down and nightfall to cover, the fairies always paint the story of three unusually bright stars in the sky for them to hear. The story of three girls - one who drove the other to seek her Secret Garden, one who gave her life to help the other break free of the Secret Garden, and one who held on to all the Garden had taught her.
THE END
At this point the writer decides that the title of this story is hereby changed to "The Secret Garden". Frances Hodgson who?
Saturday, February 11, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 27
Here's the more completed version of the second-last Chapter of The New Girl which replaces the slightly inadequate one I posted in a rush last night. Do re-read it if neccessary, under all esteemed recommendations. And just like the Chapter before this, I ended up writing something different for the last paragraph than what I had in mind during the first. Strange, that keeps happening lately...spontaneity at play?
Have fun while it lasts, you don't get second-last Chapters around here everyday.
May had seen enough madness here to last her a lifetime. It was no longer a matter of who was behind what or whether Jean or Saras was wrong. The most apparent thing now was that the garden was no longer the safe haven that Jean had had her believe. It was a devil's playground masquerading as an angelic paradise which had ruined both their lives in different ways.
"Jean," she cried in desperation. "What have you done? When does this all end?"
"I-I don't know," she seemed dazed as well.
Saras' limp body, sprawled on the grass, cast a long shadow over the two girls. May didn't even realise that the sun was already setting. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed a sunset in the secret garden, but this one was somewhat different - darker, more sinister, as if bringing closure to the final chapter of her life.
"Is she dead?"
"Probably."
"There's no way we can leave now," Jean's bloodshot eyes reflected in May's. "We'll just get thrown in jail and executed. Let's just stay here forever."
"HELLO, THAT'S NOT GOING TO SOLVE ANYTHING! Let's leave this place already! I can't afford to get any older!"
"Oh, please don't say that May. Please don't leave me now...it's all become such a big mess. This garden is all I have left now. I'll talk to the fairies and see what they can do about the age thing. Just don't go. I'm begging you."
"You're crazy."
"Maybe I am," she wept. "But all I ever wanted to become was a normal girl like you and Misha. I try really so hard that it makes me tired, and still people are so cruel. Life itself is so cruel to me. I-is it really that wrong to want to be happy?"
An uncontrollable pity for the desperate girl pleading before her squeezed tears out of May's eyes. "No, Jean. It's not wrong."
"We all have things we don't like about our lives, and it's how we go about them that make some people happier than others. You've been trying to hide, trying to run away all your life. There's a real world out there and you need to face it."
Her head hung low.
"It's the only way, girl. Forget this garden. It's only temporary."
Bit by bit the leaves in the trees detached themselves and fell to the ground. The grass morphed into a muddy brown till it became a part of the soil. The wind, the birds, the streams - everything disappeared before May's eyes. She couldn't describe how or why, but it just did.
"There. It's over."
Jean was now an unconsolable sob. "No...no...why..."
Often words were the last thing you needed for times like this. May put her arms around her and hugged her for all she was worth.
Have fun while it lasts, you don't get second-last Chapters around here everyday.
May had seen enough madness here to last her a lifetime. It was no longer a matter of who was behind what or whether Jean or Saras was wrong. The most apparent thing now was that the garden was no longer the safe haven that Jean had had her believe. It was a devil's playground masquerading as an angelic paradise which had ruined both their lives in different ways.
"Jean," she cried in desperation. "What have you done? When does this all end?"
"I-I don't know," she seemed dazed as well.
Saras' limp body, sprawled on the grass, cast a long shadow over the two girls. May didn't even realise that the sun was already setting. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed a sunset in the secret garden, but this one was somewhat different - darker, more sinister, as if bringing closure to the final chapter of her life.
"Is she dead?"
"Probably."
"There's no way we can leave now," Jean's bloodshot eyes reflected in May's. "We'll just get thrown in jail and executed. Let's just stay here forever."
"HELLO, THAT'S NOT GOING TO SOLVE ANYTHING! Let's leave this place already! I can't afford to get any older!"
"Oh, please don't say that May. Please don't leave me now...it's all become such a big mess. This garden is all I have left now. I'll talk to the fairies and see what they can do about the age thing. Just don't go. I'm begging you."
"You're crazy."
"Maybe I am," she wept. "But all I ever wanted to become was a normal girl like you and Misha. I try really so hard that it makes me tired, and still people are so cruel. Life itself is so cruel to me. I-is it really that wrong to want to be happy?"
An uncontrollable pity for the desperate girl pleading before her squeezed tears out of May's eyes. "No, Jean. It's not wrong."
"We all have things we don't like about our lives, and it's how we go about them that make some people happier than others. You've been trying to hide, trying to run away all your life. There's a real world out there and you need to face it."
Her head hung low.
"It's the only way, girl. Forget this garden. It's only temporary."
Bit by bit the leaves in the trees detached themselves and fell to the ground. The grass morphed into a muddy brown till it became a part of the soil. The wind, the birds, the streams - everything disappeared before May's eyes. She couldn't describe how or why, but it just did.
"There. It's over."
Jean was now an unconsolable sob. "No...no...why..."
Often words were the last thing you needed for times like this. May put her arms around her and hugged her for all she was worth.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 26
One thing I forgot to mention in my Writer's Block - a decision has been made on the publishing of Ghostopia. I'll be publishing it only after I complete it, rather than go chapter by chapter. Less stressful for me, more waiting for you. And by publishing I mean Blogger Publishing, so go ahead, finish off all your MPH Vouchers. Heh heh.
Today's chapter of The New Girl would be a perfect example of writing the last paragrpah differently than what I had in mind when I wrote the first. Still, I think it's better this way. You judge. Not like what you think would make a lick of difference though, but you judge...
Saras ran her finger over the spot where Jean had slapped her. It was still the colour of an undercooked slab of mutton.
"Let's play that game we always played together," Jean grinned wickedly. "It's called 'I Point, You Eat'. Surely you remember that - right, Saras?"
She scowled and got back on her feet. "I'll give you no more than ten seconds to fully explain all this nonsense. Then we'll talk about that most unfortunate slap."
"Shut up already," said Jean through gritted teeth. "I said we're playing."
Saras' face could not have been more than two inches away from Jean's. Amazingly though, Jean still wore the same look of superiority that was present when slapping Saras. Not a trace of intimidation you would expect from a victim facing her bully.
"I'm gonna make you cry!" Saras poked her forehead tauntingly. "Then we play."
Jean pursed her lips so tightly that her face reddened. Her breath came out in short noisy snorts through the nose.
"So now you're angry, huh? You're gonna fight back? Sure you are! This is your world, right? That's what you said, I'm sure! Come on! Enough of the pig noises already!"
"Uh, Saras..." May wasn't too sure if this was the right thing to do now.
"It's okay, May, I know exactly what she's doing. First she makes you feel sorry for her. The traumatic childhood, the tough times I gave her in school, all that same ol' drivel. Then comes the "How I wish someone would give two craps about me" and "Why is this all happening to me" drill. You're everyone's victim, aren't you?"
"Do you know why we picked on you in the first place, Jean? Not because you were weird, or because you seemed weak and helpless. Simply because you were the most self-pitying, delusional, attention seeking, paranoid brat I'd ever come across in my life!"
"And now," she concluded with a smirk. "We're supposed to think that you're scary."
There was absolute silence in the garden. Not a single leaf rustled, nor did a single bird chirp. The grass could very well have stopped growing.
Jean stared hatefully at Saras for a long time. Now Saras was the one wearing a smug expression.
"I...I..."
"What was that, Jean? You gotta speak up, you know."
"I..."
"Speak up, you cretin."
"I HATE YOU!" Jean sprang up and pinned Saras to the ground, hands locked around her throat. May gasped in shock.
Saras tried to break free, but her grip grew chokingly tighter like a hangman's noose. She heaved in and out, attempting to throw Jean off her chest instead. Nothing happened. She couldn't understand it.
It didn't last long. May was still struggling to understand what was happening when Saras stopped thrashing about. No more stifled croaks were heard coming from her colourless lips. She became as still as the sky.
"I still hate you." Jean whispered and finally released her fingers. Saras lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, a perfect picture of a confused girl who never had any clue how the tables could have been turned so mercilessly on her.
Today's chapter of The New Girl would be a perfect example of writing the last paragrpah differently than what I had in mind when I wrote the first. Still, I think it's better this way. You judge. Not like what you think would make a lick of difference though, but you judge...
Saras ran her finger over the spot where Jean had slapped her. It was still the colour of an undercooked slab of mutton.
"Let's play that game we always played together," Jean grinned wickedly. "It's called 'I Point, You Eat'. Surely you remember that - right, Saras?"
She scowled and got back on her feet. "I'll give you no more than ten seconds to fully explain all this nonsense. Then we'll talk about that most unfortunate slap."
"Shut up already," said Jean through gritted teeth. "I said we're playing."
Saras' face could not have been more than two inches away from Jean's. Amazingly though, Jean still wore the same look of superiority that was present when slapping Saras. Not a trace of intimidation you would expect from a victim facing her bully.
"I'm gonna make you cry!" Saras poked her forehead tauntingly. "Then we play."
Jean pursed her lips so tightly that her face reddened. Her breath came out in short noisy snorts through the nose.
"So now you're angry, huh? You're gonna fight back? Sure you are! This is your world, right? That's what you said, I'm sure! Come on! Enough of the pig noises already!"
"Uh, Saras..." May wasn't too sure if this was the right thing to do now.
"It's okay, May, I know exactly what she's doing. First she makes you feel sorry for her. The traumatic childhood, the tough times I gave her in school, all that same ol' drivel. Then comes the "How I wish someone would give two craps about me" and "Why is this all happening to me" drill. You're everyone's victim, aren't you?"
"Do you know why we picked on you in the first place, Jean? Not because you were weird, or because you seemed weak and helpless. Simply because you were the most self-pitying, delusional, attention seeking, paranoid brat I'd ever come across in my life!"
"And now," she concluded with a smirk. "We're supposed to think that you're scary."
There was absolute silence in the garden. Not a single leaf rustled, nor did a single bird chirp. The grass could very well have stopped growing.
Jean stared hatefully at Saras for a long time. Now Saras was the one wearing a smug expression.
"I...I..."
"What was that, Jean? You gotta speak up, you know."
"I..."
"Speak up, you cretin."
"I HATE YOU!" Jean sprang up and pinned Saras to the ground, hands locked around her throat. May gasped in shock.
Saras tried to break free, but her grip grew chokingly tighter like a hangman's noose. She heaved in and out, attempting to throw Jean off her chest instead. Nothing happened. She couldn't understand it.
It didn't last long. May was still struggling to understand what was happening when Saras stopped thrashing about. No more stifled croaks were heard coming from her colourless lips. She became as still as the sky.
"I still hate you." Jean whispered and finally released her fingers. Saras lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, a perfect picture of a confused girl who never had any clue how the tables could have been turned so mercilessly on her.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Writer's Block
Why hellllo, nurses!
The last three days have been the epitome of purposeless living and idleness, if you'll excuse me for saying that. I'm sure there were more than a couple of occassions when I just stared at my handphone waiting for someone to call and ask me to go save them from a raging fire or something. Ah well, it's the sort of times that you wish would never end and would end quickly both at once.
Of course, no rotting of the mind is complete without an incredulous number of hours staring at the computer screen from dawn till dusk. However this time around, it isn't some lame-o project that only the likes of ME would even dare dream of - I have proudly managed to coax my elder sister into watching (and falling head over heels in love with) one of my most favourite shows ever, Rurouni Kenshin (or Samurai X).
Now now, I sure am not an anime person - heck, I don't even watch that Naru whatsthenameagain show - but believe me when I say that Kenshin is one of the best shows I've ever watched. Nay, one of the best stories I've ever heard. Even if you took away the beautiful art and music, it would still be blow you away whether you're the lovey-dovey mushy sort or one that enjoys a good heated fight. Trade Secret #26: Up till now each time I concoct a story in my head, I use Kenshin as a measuring stick. Is there enough reason to care for this character? Are the situations and explanations too "yeah, right" to buy? Yups, "what would Kenshin do" always is the question.
Hoh boy, better stop now before I go on and do something as dumb as THIS.
Indeed, these are special times as we draw close to another end of a story. Which means the coming of a new one. Ack. This must be the closest I've ever been to the end of a story without any idea how the next one will be like. What I would really like to do is going back to the basics...a straightforward "good versus evil" story, kinda like that first one I wrote here. "Blogspot" was it? Yups...not the sort of story that leaves you with a dozen points to ponder staring at the ceiling, but a delightful romp through the park that doesn't take itself too seriously. Though I would never agree to Blogspot being the best of the four Twisted Tales so far, there is no denying that the reader response for it was the best, making it such a joy to write. So pencil it down people...Story Number Five, coming your way some time in the near future!
The New Girl? Whoops yeah, we should be waiting breathlessly for the climax now. Sighh...what can I say without making it sound like self praise or pointless criticism? The most dangerous thing to do at this point would be to make things too far-fetched or ridiculous, now that the element of magic has been introduced. More so when everything has been soooo subtle and curiousity-inducing all this while. But how then, can Jean become a fearsome villain if you don't have her brething fireballs? Bwahahahaha, go figure.
And is there enough time for a twist for Saras? She appears to be on May's side currently, but there's just so much you could do for her background with Jean. You could have her pulling the strings for Jean. Or maybe be the mastermind behind the secret garden. Or defeat Jean in an epic showdown of sorcery. Or maybe not.
It makes me tingle with excitement, ah yes. Be seeing you, kiddos. :-)
The last three days have been the epitome of purposeless living and idleness, if you'll excuse me for saying that. I'm sure there were more than a couple of occassions when I just stared at my handphone waiting for someone to call and ask me to go save them from a raging fire or something. Ah well, it's the sort of times that you wish would never end and would end quickly both at once.
Of course, no rotting of the mind is complete without an incredulous number of hours staring at the computer screen from dawn till dusk. However this time around, it isn't some lame-o project that only the likes of ME would even dare dream of - I have proudly managed to coax my elder sister into watching (and falling head over heels in love with) one of my most favourite shows ever, Rurouni Kenshin (or Samurai X).
Now now, I sure am not an anime person - heck, I don't even watch that Naru whatsthenameagain show - but believe me when I say that Kenshin is one of the best shows I've ever watched. Nay, one of the best stories I've ever heard. Even if you took away the beautiful art and music, it would still be blow you away whether you're the lovey-dovey mushy sort or one that enjoys a good heated fight. Trade Secret #26: Up till now each time I concoct a story in my head, I use Kenshin as a measuring stick. Is there enough reason to care for this character? Are the situations and explanations too "yeah, right" to buy? Yups, "what would Kenshin do" always is the question.
Hoh boy, better stop now before I go on and do something as dumb as THIS.
Indeed, these are special times as we draw close to another end of a story. Which means the coming of a new one. Ack. This must be the closest I've ever been to the end of a story without any idea how the next one will be like. What I would really like to do is going back to the basics...a straightforward "good versus evil" story, kinda like that first one I wrote here. "Blogspot" was it? Yups...not the sort of story that leaves you with a dozen points to ponder staring at the ceiling, but a delightful romp through the park that doesn't take itself too seriously. Though I would never agree to Blogspot being the best of the four Twisted Tales so far, there is no denying that the reader response for it was the best, making it such a joy to write. So pencil it down people...Story Number Five, coming your way some time in the near future!
The New Girl? Whoops yeah, we should be waiting breathlessly for the climax now. Sighh...what can I say without making it sound like self praise or pointless criticism? The most dangerous thing to do at this point would be to make things too far-fetched or ridiculous, now that the element of magic has been introduced. More so when everything has been soooo subtle and curiousity-inducing all this while. But how then, can Jean become a fearsome villain if you don't have her brething fireballs? Bwahahahaha, go figure.
And is there enough time for a twist for Saras? She appears to be on May's side currently, but there's just so much you could do for her background with Jean. You could have her pulling the strings for Jean. Or maybe be the mastermind behind the secret garden. Or defeat Jean in an epic showdown of sorcery. Or maybe not.
It makes me tingle with excitement, ah yes. Be seeing you, kiddos. :-)
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
reCAPPENING: The New Girl, Chapters 21-25
May takes a taxi back to her school and heads straight for the secret garden, where she searches high and low until Jean finally shows her face. When May presses for answers to her sudden old age, Jean rambles on about how everyone thinks she's the cause of everything that has happened and how difficult her own life has been, with Saras' bullying and her parents' death.
Eventually Jean reveals the truth - some years ago, after another round of bullying from Saras and gang, she sobbed in a corner of the school field and was then mysteriously led here by "fairies". The garden was like an escape where time stopped, and the lost time would be made up by the years in May's life. As the horrified May comes to terms with this, Saras suddenly appears from behind the bushes. Surprised to see her, Jean nonetheless asks her how she entered and bravely slaps her on the face, leading us to Chapter 26.
Eventually Jean reveals the truth - some years ago, after another round of bullying from Saras and gang, she sobbed in a corner of the school field and was then mysteriously led here by "fairies". The garden was like an escape where time stopped, and the lost time would be made up by the years in May's life. As the horrified May comes to terms with this, Saras suddenly appears from behind the bushes. Surprised to see her, Jean nonetheless asks her how she entered and bravely slaps her on the face, leading us to Chapter 26.
Monday, January 30, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 25
Chinese New Year is like the noisier, more dashing and outgoing cousin of Christmas. Or at least that's what I feel, hehe...you gotta love this year's celebration for the almost week-long holidays we're getting with Federal Territory Day and Awal Muharram thrown in. More than that, if you conveniently get sick on Friday from too many packet drinks and mandarins, nyek nyek nyek. Unfortunately, there's always the downside of enduring long and repetitive visits to Auntie A's or Uncle B's house where you put on your best smile and engage in meaningless conversation for as long as you can. Oh well, guess all good things (read: angpows!) come at a price...
Every time Jean or May entered the secret garden, May grew older by the minute. This simple logic became more and more horrifying each time she repeated it.
"W-what...kind of evil magic is this?"
"It's more than magic," An unsettling glint twinkled in Jean's eyes. "It's given me my life back."
"At the expense of mine?" Her fear rapidly melted in anger. "There are so many other ways you can get a life, and you take mine?"
"Once again, you're not looking at the big picture. Here you stand, shouting and screaming at me as though I wanted any of this to happen. Was it my fault when my parents died before I even understood why? Was it my fault when Auntie Lilian thought she could take Mom's place? Was it my fault when Saras bullied me like crazy, and everyone shrugged it off as good-natured fun? Before you dare talk about me taking away your life, maybe you should ask about those who took away my life."
May didn't know what to say. "L-let's get out of this place first. Then we can talk."
Jean didn't reply. She seemed to be concentrating on something.
"Shhh." Suddenly her ears perked up. "I think I hear something."
Sure enough, a tiny rustling soon echoed from the bushes leading to the walkway. It sounded too heavy and noisy to be an animal. Not the cutesy varieties that the garden only had, at least.
"Im...impossible!" Jean was agape in disbelief. "It's a human. But the fairies would never let someone in without my permission!"
With fists clenched tight she stormed over to the bushes. "Come out! Whoever that is, show yourself!"
The noises stopped, as if the person was hoping that Jean didn't know he or she was there.
"I said, show yourself."
Timidly two dark hands popped out, followed by a head most unsure of the wisdom in revealing itself. It was Saras.
"You. YOU. You." Jean said in varying tones. "I would never have imagined. How on earth did you enter?"
Saras looked at her in bewilderment, then May. "What the..."
"ANSWER ME!" Jean slapped her across the face. She buckled, then fell backwards more of surprise than force.
"Not so tough now, eh?" Jean grinned smugly like a fisherman would at the one that almost got away. "You might have pushed me around like a piece of crap out there, but realise this, Saras - inside here I am the queen. This is my world."
Every time Jean or May entered the secret garden, May grew older by the minute. This simple logic became more and more horrifying each time she repeated it.
"W-what...kind of evil magic is this?"
"It's more than magic," An unsettling glint twinkled in Jean's eyes. "It's given me my life back."
"At the expense of mine?" Her fear rapidly melted in anger. "There are so many other ways you can get a life, and you take mine?"
"Once again, you're not looking at the big picture. Here you stand, shouting and screaming at me as though I wanted any of this to happen. Was it my fault when my parents died before I even understood why? Was it my fault when Auntie Lilian thought she could take Mom's place? Was it my fault when Saras bullied me like crazy, and everyone shrugged it off as good-natured fun? Before you dare talk about me taking away your life, maybe you should ask about those who took away my life."
May didn't know what to say. "L-let's get out of this place first. Then we can talk."
Jean didn't reply. She seemed to be concentrating on something.
"Shhh." Suddenly her ears perked up. "I think I hear something."
Sure enough, a tiny rustling soon echoed from the bushes leading to the walkway. It sounded too heavy and noisy to be an animal. Not the cutesy varieties that the garden only had, at least.
"Im...impossible!" Jean was agape in disbelief. "It's a human. But the fairies would never let someone in without my permission!"
With fists clenched tight she stormed over to the bushes. "Come out! Whoever that is, show yourself!"
The noises stopped, as if the person was hoping that Jean didn't know he or she was there.
"I said, show yourself."
Timidly two dark hands popped out, followed by a head most unsure of the wisdom in revealing itself. It was Saras.
"You. YOU. You." Jean said in varying tones. "I would never have imagined. How on earth did you enter?"
Saras looked at her in bewilderment, then May. "What the..."
"ANSWER ME!" Jean slapped her across the face. She buckled, then fell backwards more of surprise than force.
"Not so tough now, eh?" Jean grinned smugly like a fisherman would at the one that almost got away. "You might have pushed me around like a piece of crap out there, but realise this, Saras - inside here I am the queen. This is my world."
Friday, January 27, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 24
Hello once again! Been working part-time as a data entry clerk for the past three days, which isn't exactly tiring, but can turn out to be one of the most boring jobs ever. It's also kinda reassuring that Charmaine commented on the MSN piece being one of the best ones...more reassuring than delighting or satisfying, actually. Does that make me insecure? Well, I did stay up quite late to finish the whole darned thing. And btw Beatrice, yes, Caller Three does seem terribly familiar now that you make me think about it...
We're done, then! The New Girl rolls on, and it's time to give y'all the big payoff to the suspense you've endured so far. Drumrolls, please!
"So this is how the story has to end. No one can be trusted."
May could feel something unswallowable cling on to the insides of her throat. What was this maniac thinking? Was she going to kill her?
"You're thinking whether I'm going to kill you."
Beads of cold sweat slithered downwards May's forehead. Is she reading my mind?
"I'm not really reading your mind," her lips sneered lopsidedly. "The fairies told me that."
"F-fairies?"
"I still remember so well...Saras and gang had been extremely mean to me that day. They snatched away my Geography research folder which was due that day and wouldn't give it back. Nobody would help me. I don't think anyone even believed me. Exasperated, I ran to the school field after reccess and hid there crying. I didn't know how long I was planning to stay there, or what I was going to do after that. Everything just seemed so hopeless."
"I must have been crying for an hour. Maybe more, I don't know. All I know is that I felt this warmth coming from the top of my head. It was like a candle slowly burning up, calling out to me in this sleepy yet soothing voice. I never once felt afraid as they lifted me over the fence and down the dirt path into the most splendid place I had ever seen. Everything I had ever dreamed of, right down to the bunny holes and purple butterflies, they were all there."
"For a whole afternoon I was no more the lonely weird girl with no parents and getting picked on for no reason. Since Mom died, I had never once felt so happy. But before I knew it the sun was setting and I had to go. Once they brought me back over the fence an entire search team was waiting for me. My auntie, the teachers, some students, and even the police. I was in big trouble for over a month."
"And that is why," Jean dug out a packet of very-familiar little red cubes. "The fairies gave me these."
She had offered them one of those when they first met. It tasted no less than horrible, May recalled.
Jean nodded. "Yups. You had one before. Ever noticed how time seems to stop when you're inside the secret garden? Well, that's because it does. That's why we were never late for classes or had search teams coming after us while we were here."
Oh my gosh. She's right.
"The pieces of the puzzle are falling in place, no? But of course, that stolen time can't just appear like that. It has to come from somewhere. Care to take a guess?"
May wrinkled hands started shaking uncontrollably as she finally understood everything that was happening.
We're done, then! The New Girl rolls on, and it's time to give y'all the big payoff to the suspense you've endured so far. Drumrolls, please!
"So this is how the story has to end. No one can be trusted."
May could feel something unswallowable cling on to the insides of her throat. What was this maniac thinking? Was she going to kill her?
"You're thinking whether I'm going to kill you."
Beads of cold sweat slithered downwards May's forehead. Is she reading my mind?
"I'm not really reading your mind," her lips sneered lopsidedly. "The fairies told me that."
"F-fairies?"
"I still remember so well...Saras and gang had been extremely mean to me that day. They snatched away my Geography research folder which was due that day and wouldn't give it back. Nobody would help me. I don't think anyone even believed me. Exasperated, I ran to the school field after reccess and hid there crying. I didn't know how long I was planning to stay there, or what I was going to do after that. Everything just seemed so hopeless."
"I must have been crying for an hour. Maybe more, I don't know. All I know is that I felt this warmth coming from the top of my head. It was like a candle slowly burning up, calling out to me in this sleepy yet soothing voice. I never once felt afraid as they lifted me over the fence and down the dirt path into the most splendid place I had ever seen. Everything I had ever dreamed of, right down to the bunny holes and purple butterflies, they were all there."
"For a whole afternoon I was no more the lonely weird girl with no parents and getting picked on for no reason. Since Mom died, I had never once felt so happy. But before I knew it the sun was setting and I had to go. Once they brought me back over the fence an entire search team was waiting for me. My auntie, the teachers, some students, and even the police. I was in big trouble for over a month."
"And that is why," Jean dug out a packet of very-familiar little red cubes. "The fairies gave me these."
She had offered them one of those when they first met. It tasted no less than horrible, May recalled.
Jean nodded. "Yups. You had one before. Ever noticed how time seems to stop when you're inside the secret garden? Well, that's because it does. That's why we were never late for classes or had search teams coming after us while we were here."
Oh my gosh. She's right.
"The pieces of the puzzle are falling in place, no? But of course, that stolen time can't just appear like that. It has to come from somewhere. Care to take a guess?"
May wrinkled hands started shaking uncontrollably as she finally understood everything that was happening.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Writer's Block Presents...So You Think You Know MSN?
So you think you know all there is to know about MSN Messenger, huh? You keep telling youself that buster, and maybe someday you'll start believing yourself. MSN Messenger (from now on referred to as "MSN") can at the best of times be a handy program that allows you to chat with friends, transfer files conveniently, and even show off cool display pictures. When the other side of the toast shows up, however, you have a deranged sub-culture festering with loonies who think the Nudge button is the greatest thing ever invented, embarassing nicknames, 50MB file transfers, and what-have-yous.
Knowing full well of the growing number of problems faced by disillusioned MSN users, our resident MSN expert (who also happens to be - who else? - the author of this blog) squeezes in some time to take questions on Netiquette. And no, that's not the new boutique in Times Square.
Note: The following article is almost entirely a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, events, or places are purely coincidential and satirical.
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller One: Hello. I'm having a conversation with this friend whom I have not seen in a long time, but we don't seem to have much to talk about after exchanging greetings and news. What should I say?
MSN-okkies: If the last sentence was from him, say "oic", "ok", or "haha". Then WAIT for 5 minutes before switching your status to Away. All replies from him in the meanwhile should be ignored. This way, it'll seem as though you left your computer to go into sleep mode while you went elsewhere. Totally acceptable.
Caller One: But what if he keeps asking me "Hey, r u there?" and Nudging me?
MSN-okkies: Sign out. It'll seem like your mom accidentally turned off the computer while cleaning up. Happens all the time.
Caller One: Oh wow, that's neat. I'll try that next time. Thanks a lot, MSN...ok...kies? They actually let you come on air with that sort of name?
MSN-okkies: There is no they. I am the they.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Two: There's this girl I want to chat with, but her status is at Away. Would it be appropriate to just say hi?
MSN-okkies: (stifles laughter) Of course not. She's definitely not at her computer - her status wouldn't be Away otherwise, would she?
Caller Two: But what is she doing with her MSN on if she's not at the computer?
MSN-okkies: Downloading songs. And, uh, transferring them through MSN.
Caller Two: All the time?!
MSN-okkies: So she has a slower dial-up connection. You got a problem with that?
Caller Two: Umm...I guess not. But sometimes I see her status change to "Busy" instead. What's up with that?
MSN-okkies: Duh...what do you think? She must be so busy with something else that requires her undivided attention that she actually bothered to turn on her MSN and take the trouble to change her tag to "Busy". Yups, that's got to be it.
Caller Two: (sighs) Guess I'll never have her, then.
MSN-okkies: Ew. Go change your MSN nick to "I love you forever and ever, will you pls be my girlfren" or something. And get a life while you're at it.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Okay, now all the weirdos are coming in. Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Three: Uh, yeah, hi. So, there's this friend of mine who, like, keeps sending me huge files of lame stuff everytime I meet him online. I don't like refusing him - you know? - but it's really slowing down my com and all. What's a guy gotta do?
MSN-okkies: Sounds pretty easy to me. You accept his file, count to ten, and click "Cancel". Sure, the dude's gonna be all "Hey, what happened?". And you can say "Aw man, problem with the connection. Send again." He'll try once more, and this time you count till TWENTY before cancelling. Repeat process, counting up to a different number each time until it's safe enough to say "gtg". Should be fun enough to put you off whatever you're busy with at the moment.
Caller Three: But won't he, like, get suspicious and all?
MSN-okkies: Nobody can ever be justifiably suspicious of the opposite party on MSN. Remember that, naive one, and all shall be well with your future conversations.
Caller Three: Will try to. Thanks, Mr. MSN...uh, uh...
MSN-okkies: It's a play of words using MSN and Mokkies. Go read up on a word called intelligence, for crying out loud.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think...
Caller Four: Some idiot's put my name in his MSN nick, followed by "I love you forever and ever, will you pls be my girlfren". It's really, really, embarrassing. Please get him to stop.
MSN-okkies: Yeeps...doesn't seem to be a pretty case, missy. You tried talking to him?
Caller Four: No way I'm talking to that creep! Should I block him?
MSN-okkies: I would advise against that. MSN Block Checkers are floating around everywhere these days. Then you might have to switch to ICR or something.
Caller Four: You mean ICQ.
MSN-okkies: Yeah, whatever. All right, tell you what...create a new e-mail account that sounds as much as possible like it came from the actual MSN company. Send him an email with that account detailing - in corporate language and all, of course - how he has been "reported for violating privacy rights of other users via means of defamation, harassment etc as detailed in Guideline 13 of the Registration Rules And Regulations", making his "continued usage of the current account an offense punishable by federal and international law." Should he disregard the email, take it to the next level by creating an MSN Messenger account with the new email and adding him into your contact list. Chat up with him while imposing as an MSN high-up staff the best you can. That should scare the living daylights out of him.
Caller Four: Wow, thanks! You really are a great help!
MSN-okkies: Why, you make me blush. Have a nice day.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: My, my, look at the time. We'll take one last caller before going off air. Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Five: Uhh...hi, it's me again. You know, the one who was being ignored by the girl.
MSN-okkies: (chokes on laughter) Oh yeah, I remember you. So how did it go?
Caller Five: Not so good. I changed my MSN nick, and she's still On The Phone. It's been six hours already. Should I call her?
MSN-okkies: She's on the phone, doink.
Caller Five: Then maybe I should send her an SMS. She'll reply me after she finishes her call, right?
MSN-okkies: Of course she will. Keep it short and sweet too...just ask "where r u". Everyone loves receiving and replying to messages like that. And while you're at it, ask "r u there" through MSN, followed by a Nudge.
Caller Five: And if all else fails?
MSN-okkies: Nudge repeatedly. Remember - nothing, and I mean nothing, in this world is more powerful than the Nudge. Except for Winks, maybe.
Caller Five: Okay, I sure will try that. Hey, I received a new email from MSN Anti Stalkers! Cool.
MSN-okkies: Goodbye, sucka.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: (sniggers) It's a complicated world out there, and someone's gotta provide us with comic relief. Boy oh boy, do I smell a money-spinning franchise coming up. That's a wrap, people, hope you enjoyed the show and took it more seriously than I did. ;)
(Appears Offline)
Knowing full well of the growing number of problems faced by disillusioned MSN users, our resident MSN expert (who also happens to be - who else? - the author of this blog) squeezes in some time to take questions on Netiquette. And no, that's not the new boutique in Times Square.
Note: The following article is almost entirely a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, events, or places are purely coincidential and satirical.
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller One: Hello. I'm having a conversation with this friend whom I have not seen in a long time, but we don't seem to have much to talk about after exchanging greetings and news. What should I say?
MSN-okkies: If the last sentence was from him, say "oic", "ok", or "haha". Then WAIT for 5 minutes before switching your status to Away. All replies from him in the meanwhile should be ignored. This way, it'll seem as though you left your computer to go into sleep mode while you went elsewhere. Totally acceptable.
Caller One: But what if he keeps asking me "Hey, r u there?" and Nudging me?
MSN-okkies: Sign out. It'll seem like your mom accidentally turned off the computer while cleaning up. Happens all the time.
Caller One: Oh wow, that's neat. I'll try that next time. Thanks a lot, MSN...ok...kies? They actually let you come on air with that sort of name?
MSN-okkies: There is no they. I am the they.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Two: There's this girl I want to chat with, but her status is at Away. Would it be appropriate to just say hi?
MSN-okkies: (stifles laughter) Of course not. She's definitely not at her computer - her status wouldn't be Away otherwise, would she?
Caller Two: But what is she doing with her MSN on if she's not at the computer?
MSN-okkies: Downloading songs. And, uh, transferring them through MSN.
Caller Two: All the time?!
MSN-okkies: So she has a slower dial-up connection. You got a problem with that?
Caller Two: Umm...I guess not. But sometimes I see her status change to "Busy" instead. What's up with that?
MSN-okkies: Duh...what do you think? She must be so busy with something else that requires her undivided attention that she actually bothered to turn on her MSN and take the trouble to change her tag to "Busy". Yups, that's got to be it.
Caller Two: (sighs) Guess I'll never have her, then.
MSN-okkies: Ew. Go change your MSN nick to "I love you forever and ever, will you pls be my girlfren" or something. And get a life while you're at it.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Okay, now all the weirdos are coming in. Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Three: Uh, yeah, hi. So, there's this friend of mine who, like, keeps sending me huge files of lame stuff everytime I meet him online. I don't like refusing him - you know? - but it's really slowing down my com and all. What's a guy gotta do?
MSN-okkies: Sounds pretty easy to me. You accept his file, count to ten, and click "Cancel". Sure, the dude's gonna be all "Hey, what happened?". And you can say "Aw man, problem with the connection. Send again." He'll try once more, and this time you count till TWENTY before cancelling. Repeat process, counting up to a different number each time until it's safe enough to say "gtg". Should be fun enough to put you off whatever you're busy with at the moment.
Caller Three: But won't he, like, get suspicious and all?
MSN-okkies: Nobody can ever be justifiably suspicious of the opposite party on MSN. Remember that, naive one, and all shall be well with your future conversations.
Caller Three: Will try to. Thanks, Mr. MSN...uh, uh...
MSN-okkies: It's a play of words using MSN and Mokkies. Go read up on a word called intelligence, for crying out loud.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: Hello, so you think...
Caller Four: Some idiot's put my name in his MSN nick, followed by "I love you forever and ever, will you pls be my girlfren". It's really, really, embarrassing. Please get him to stop.
MSN-okkies: Yeeps...doesn't seem to be a pretty case, missy. You tried talking to him?
Caller Four: No way I'm talking to that creep! Should I block him?
MSN-okkies: I would advise against that. MSN Block Checkers are floating around everywhere these days. Then you might have to switch to ICR or something.
Caller Four: You mean ICQ.
MSN-okkies: Yeah, whatever. All right, tell you what...create a new e-mail account that sounds as much as possible like it came from the actual MSN company. Send him an email with that account detailing - in corporate language and all, of course - how he has been "reported for violating privacy rights of other users via means of defamation, harassment etc as detailed in Guideline 13 of the Registration Rules And Regulations", making his "continued usage of the current account an offense punishable by federal and international law." Should he disregard the email, take it to the next level by creating an MSN Messenger account with the new email and adding him into your contact list. Chat up with him while imposing as an MSN high-up staff the best you can. That should scare the living daylights out of him.
Caller Four: Wow, thanks! You really are a great help!
MSN-okkies: Why, you make me blush. Have a nice day.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: My, my, look at the time. We'll take one last caller before going off air. Hello, so you think you know MSN?
Caller Five: Uhh...hi, it's me again. You know, the one who was being ignored by the girl.
MSN-okkies: (chokes on laughter) Oh yeah, I remember you. So how did it go?
Caller Five: Not so good. I changed my MSN nick, and she's still On The Phone. It's been six hours already. Should I call her?
MSN-okkies: She's on the phone, doink.
Caller Five: Then maybe I should send her an SMS. She'll reply me after she finishes her call, right?
MSN-okkies: Of course she will. Keep it short and sweet too...just ask "where r u". Everyone loves receiving and replying to messages like that. And while you're at it, ask "r u there" through MSN, followed by a Nudge.
Caller Five: And if all else fails?
MSN-okkies: Nudge repeatedly. Remember - nothing, and I mean nothing, in this world is more powerful than the Nudge. Except for Winks, maybe.
Caller Five: Okay, I sure will try that. Hey, I received a new email from MSN Anti Stalkers! Cool.
MSN-okkies: Goodbye, sucka.
(hangs up)
MSN-okkies: (sniggers) It's a complicated world out there, and someone's gotta provide us with comic relief. Boy oh boy, do I smell a money-spinning franchise coming up. That's a wrap, people, hope you enjoyed the show and took it more seriously than I did. ;)
(Appears Offline)
Sunday, January 22, 2006
The New Girl, Chapter 23
The oooodles of fun continues with nutcase Jean almost starting to show signs of cracking up! Nothing full-blown yet, but it's so much scarier when it's subtle as heck. Have fun, kiddos.
"Did I frighten you? Oh, I'm so sorry." Jean changed at the snap of a finger to a soft-spoken concerned friend. "P-please don't think I'm crazy or something. I'm like that sometimes."
And one of those sometimes you're going to kill me, thought May.
"That's why I need this secret garden, May. The people out there are so mean and nasty to me, not like everything in here. I was hoping you would learn to love this place as well, but apparently you don't."
Now May was making no attempts to mask her uneasiness at Jean. "Listen, we've both got problems."
"You mean I had problems. I never have any problems in the secret garden."
Suddenly the cerulean sky and bobbing leaves didn't seem just that. The beaming trees. The velvety grass. The rabbits and picnics and brooks and see-through streams...all of them could almost be taken straight out from story books and paintings.
"I thought you were having problems with Saras as well, you see, that's why I brought you here. But then you go and become friends with Saras, and she makes you think I'm the psycho around here. Kinda the story of my life, huh?"
"Don't be silly. I'm not friends with Saras. And even if I was, why would that bother you?"
"It shouldn't," Jean smiled sadly and shook her head. "But you know...I'm weird. Misha was like that too. First she was all buddy-buddy with me, hanging out together here four, five times a week. But once she became old like you, she didn't want to be friends any more. She became scared of me."
"Sometimes I wonder to myself - what does it take to have a friend that stays true to you? Everyone tells me to just be myself and I do that. Some others tell me to treat my friends well and I give them a whole perfect garden. And others tell me to be open and share each others' problems. I do that too. Remember me telling you about my parents' death?"
May nodded vaguely.
"But they all end up betraying me. How sad."
Her voice cracked a little. But still she was smiling sweetly as ever.
"I know what Saras told you about me, May. And I know what you're thinking about me. You think I don't know, but I do."
"Did I frighten you? Oh, I'm so sorry." Jean changed at the snap of a finger to a soft-spoken concerned friend. "P-please don't think I'm crazy or something. I'm like that sometimes."
And one of those sometimes you're going to kill me, thought May.
"That's why I need this secret garden, May. The people out there are so mean and nasty to me, not like everything in here. I was hoping you would learn to love this place as well, but apparently you don't."
Now May was making no attempts to mask her uneasiness at Jean. "Listen, we've both got problems."
"You mean I had problems. I never have any problems in the secret garden."
Suddenly the cerulean sky and bobbing leaves didn't seem just that. The beaming trees. The velvety grass. The rabbits and picnics and brooks and see-through streams...all of them could almost be taken straight out from story books and paintings.
"I thought you were having problems with Saras as well, you see, that's why I brought you here. But then you go and become friends with Saras, and she makes you think I'm the psycho around here. Kinda the story of my life, huh?"
"Don't be silly. I'm not friends with Saras. And even if I was, why would that bother you?"
"It shouldn't," Jean smiled sadly and shook her head. "But you know...I'm weird. Misha was like that too. First she was all buddy-buddy with me, hanging out together here four, five times a week. But once she became old like you, she didn't want to be friends any more. She became scared of me."
"Sometimes I wonder to myself - what does it take to have a friend that stays true to you? Everyone tells me to just be myself and I do that. Some others tell me to treat my friends well and I give them a whole perfect garden. And others tell me to be open and share each others' problems. I do that too. Remember me telling you about my parents' death?"
May nodded vaguely.
"But they all end up betraying me. How sad."
Her voice cracked a little. But still she was smiling sweetly as ever.
"I know what Saras told you about me, May. And I know what you're thinking about me. You think I don't know, but I do."
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