November 1, 2018 in Short Story/Cerpen
She loved him and never recovered. He came for a season and left when the day becomes warmer. And she ate ice-cream under the sun alone, while staring at smaller kids on bikes. She’s on a hand-me-down swimming suit, red and white, striped. She stared at the small vase in front of Mrs Fisher’s yard, and thought it was him, but it’s just Baby’s Breath. They looked similar but she recognised him by heart. And the day became so white and chilly. She still waited for him. Every sled trips, every snowball fights, she thought of him. Until the eve of red and green, until she was asleep. That morning, she unwrapped the boxes, hoping to see him. But she was wrong. He wasn’t there. “Probably, not yet”, she said to herself.
And all the leaves turned golden, the floor was brown and gold. The smell of pumpkin spice latte filled the air. But still, no signs of him. Mrs Fisher’s Baby’s Breath was still steady in the small pot in front of the azure window. She greets her once in a while. She waited patiently.
Then, the white ground slowly disappeared. Many of his friends-she could spot them emerging from beneath the floor. There were Peach Blossom, Apple Blossom, Brodea and Corn Flower. And there he was, smiling.
May 30, 2017 in Dan lain-lain
(or probably i did, after i lose them)
1. how breathing easily is a blessing, bila selesema baru rasa sedih sebab dah tersumbat
2. the joyful things as a kid-Raya, Ramadan, getting upah for doing errands, mandi sungai/lecah/parit, getting 100% for examinations, playing with pebbles and sticks and insects and felt very happy about it-you know there’s like lotsa lotsa things to be listed
3. the innocence of a kid. not gonna explain further tho.
4. how certain things seem and sound unimportant but it’s kinda sad if u don’t know about it because you’ve been living with it: 1. how many steps of stairs in your own house, that you’ve been living since you were born (imagine being kidnapped and the only way to escape is to tell the kidnapper the number of steps in your own house, um nah that’s quite impossible) 2. how a cabbage can be a rose when it is being cut into half (try this at home kids!)
5. how moms cook certain dishes and when you’re a grown up and she’s not there anymore, you’ve been regretting for not asking how to make the food (that happened to my mom because it’s been 16 years after my opah passed away, but my mom’s still finding how to make kuih cakoi as delicious as my opah’s)
6. how we didn’t notice our younger siblings getting bigger (maybe because we lived faraway from them or we just don’t care about it) then we missed how small they were once, which not gonna happen anymore.
7. the feeling of confidence of knowing a knowledge, when you were younger because when you’re getting older you i mean i became soooo insecure of what people would think and how they are more superior than you and you’re standing there thinking he must be smarter than me i should just shut my mouth and avoid displaying my incompetency.
8. the feeling of gratitude of the smallest things you get. syukur is so so so hard to be compared to being a patient person because to be patient is quite bearable you see since you can imagine the struggle, the pain you need to go through while to be grateful is that you are the one who need to find the things to be thankful of. it’s difficult, i tell you. dah hilang, baru terngadah.
honestly, there’s a bunch more to be added to the list, but these are some of them.
uh gtg need to find something to appreciate!
Salam Ramadan al-Mubarak to all.
May 5, 2017 in Dan lain-lain
Friends are one of the precious blessings that one could ever ask for. I am not a friendly person, but once you get to know me, you’ll find ways to make me stop talking. I mean, almost everyone behaves that such since strangers are strange things we never know of. I have a lot of acquaintances, many friends and few best friends. People often ask how do you even measure friendship? How do you rate, ok this is best friend, this is only a friend. The answer is that, you don’t. Importantly, friendship is not measured by how long you have known each other. At least, for me, I don’t think it works that way. Because the period of knowing a person will not prove anything. From my toddler years, I encountered many kind of friends. Good, bad, cheeky, smart, competitive and clingy. Kindergarten was so long ago, but I can still remember how I bullied Adib Razak. Sorry, Adib. I wanted to be friend with you but sadly I failed. And to Hidayah Arbi, thank you for making me stepped a frog under a plank. Primary school was amazing, the place where I set the track of my life. To befriend with a particular group of friends, to not befriend with another group of friends. It was the thing that matters the most at that time, though. Luckily, my bunch of friends were the kind of naughty but still smart. To be punished together for playing Batu Seremban at the back of the class during Ramadan was one of my best experience with my friends, let alone being punished for copying Aizat Amdan’s Hanya Kau Yang Mampu lyrics in a small notebook (Buku 3 Lima) that was supposed to be our Buku Sifir at that time. I’ve felt teachers’ cane, I’ve stood on the chair & I’ve tasted small but super painful pinches of Cikgu Zainon & Cikgu Jamilah. Because of my friends. But that was primary school, the act of an immature human being trying to look mature. Secondary school brought me to reality where not everyone will like you. To be close friends today and strangers tomorrow? Possible, really. Honestly speaking, I met my few best friends during high school, and plus my one friend who will never be separated from me, since primary school. Friends in secondary school are said to be friends for life. I admit it is true. I mean, at least for how many years since I left school. We still keep in touch, regardless of the whereabouts of the person. India? Japan? Or even Malaysia. And moving on to my current life which is university life. Yikes! Strangers are everywhere but I still managed to collect one or two good friends. This is my third year in college, so I keep seeing familiar faces around. But that is the thing that carves a smile on my face. When I see them, I feel grateful for sending me these bunch of people, who constantly feel insecure despite of being perfect with beautiful flaws, sleepy despite of sleeping a full-night sleep, tired despite of resting the whole day on bed, hungry despite the fact we have just eaten and many more behaviour you can’t even brain, but those are things that keep my life going. Thank you for all the rants of how hard Physics is in Nihongo, thank you for being crazy and for the saree fresh from the land of Taj Mahal, thank you for ranting me again and again of your past lovers, thank you for telling me a story of how a cute guy picked your lanyard up during Noh’s gig, thank you for every single time you share your umbrella (which is many many times), thank you for saving my name as Daebak, thank you for all the Panic! and Twentyone Pilots moments, thank you for speaking Bahasa Melayu baku with me for sending you a Writing Presentation recording, thank you for a Passport Picture-Quality Video, thank you for being a senpai in the things you do, thank you for staying up with me until it was 0300 a. m. for Linguistics test, thank you for replying to my Whatsapp after I replied to you a week later, thank you for sharing all your knowledge and be a part in my poetry documentary and the best of friends, thank you for all the memories. As what one of my favourite author mentioned in his book, a friend is one who shares with you your life that you will never experience without them. Well, now that makes sense.
February 6, 2017 in Dan lain-lain
I went to my old house, where I grew up. The house looked…sad? I still remember how colours of red, charming roses and bright, joyful sunflowers wreathing the compound. Now, the land seemed crying for green hands to bring them out from the drought, the dry drought. I went around and saw a small pile of anthill. I thought it was a mountain before; I even raced with my sisters who got at the top first wins. And next to it was a very small hut, the place I bleed my hands, cooking dirt and grasses. That was my second house, which my Dad built for us. At our backyard, Mum planted various kinds of plants- from Pokok Inai to Misai Kucing; all of them lived happily. On the right, you could see a pen; with roosters and their hens, and if you walk into it, you’ll hover a shoal of chicks. But that was then. Now, the pen lost its roof, lost its door even. And of course, its residents. I bowed down to see what’s under the house, well-things I could call trashes? Broken TV, a big, black tire and some unidentifiable loads of trashes. This place was once my secret HQ of a secret organisation I used to play-pretend with my siblings and close cousins. And it is a dump site now.
I want to go in, but the current person who resides the house are unavailable. Not gonna risk myself of being a trespasser though. I’m just gonna take a last look of this house of memories, before my last breath, because you can actually count how much black hair on my head. I lost track of my own name, sometimes. I forgot my current house number, I couldn’t remember my caretaker’s face. I barely remember how to read too, even though they said that’s the thing I like the most.
But, those descriptions are the things I had never forgotten, with the reasons, well, I don’t know. Or maybe I forgot. It seems like the tape of the memories keep playing in my mind. So, before my poor soul get ripped, I want to cherish my last memories, that stayed with me. I hope you’ll not fade. Forever.
I miss you, House.
December 19, 2016 in Uncategorized
I want to know
Was it right for me
To grin at Whatsapp messages
That you replied
How amazing a person could be
Was it right for me
To feel happy
Every single time
Your name popped out
On my cellphone’s screen
Reminding you’ve liked my photos
Was it still right for me
To think about you
Every seconds in my life
When you’re buried
Six feet deep under
And is it right for me now
To utter my apology
For my mistake
My love blinded me
I was wrong that night
He’s a friend, aite?
I shouldn’t have swing the axe
And you shouldn’t have died, darling.
December 10, 2016 in Short Story/Cerpen
That day, I still remember it like it was yesterday. Because suddenly a man’s voice loudly filled the air, defeating the sobs.
“You cheater! Don’t you act innocent as if you knew nothing about all this!”
A very deep, coarse voice could be heard, in the entire church.
Ainsley was right beside me, looking so puzzled. Tears still remained on his cheeks.
The man was wearing a Fedora and a pair of sandy-coloured overall. He looked peculiar, with his boots some more. His face was composed, as if he knew the Earth and all its truth hidden within.
“Sir, this is a funeral. Please leave quietly if you do not have any business around.”
The priest carefully asked the man to leave.
I looked at Ainsley’s face. The sadness wasn’t there. Anymore. His pair of eyes were shaking, but he still as calm as he would always be.
“I’m sorry but who are you, Sir? Do you know Tesse?”
Ainsley’s voice slowly reached the audience.
The frown in the man’s face turned upside down to Ainsley’s action.
“You knew me, well, very well. It’s been a long time, amigo. ”
The man laughed and pointed a Walther P99 to Ainsley’s forehead and pulled the trigger, without even a second of hesitation. I was surprised and froze to the action. Blood was splattered everywhere, making Ainsley’s white shirt crimson. Chaos. Priest called police. The man was arrested. Had second funeral, for both of the late.
Post-mortem results revealed that Tesse was suffering heart disease. She passed away after a very serious heart attack. Sigh. Ainsley should know this.
The police found out that the man was a patient of an asylum, going maniac after his lover was married to her family’s choice, and acted like she knew nothing about the decision. He’ll go around crashing weddings and funeral and shout as he wants. It was just fate that he came to Tesse’s funeral and took Ainsley’s life away. Maybe it was the time for Ainsley to be with his wife.
The accident was one memorable moment in my whole life. Like how fragile a human life is. Like how lucky I am to add something new to my collections. Okay, one new man and one new woman. May you guys rest in peace, my latest collections.
December 4, 2016 in Short Story/Cerpen
It’s me, your old buddy.
Mother is okay, don’t worry. She took all the meds properly.
Laboon, he’s still fat cute, but he’s quite grumpy these days. Old Laboon.
Oh yes. How’re you doing?
It’s fall. Here. Fading green leaves to golden. Wet benches at parks. Late sunrises, shorter dayside. And I don’t look weird in my sweater and the scarves you knitted last Winter. The scents of my favourite cup are everywhere now. You can actually count with a single hand how many person who hold neither Venti nor Grande nor Tall in their hands.
I went to the Farmer’s Market at the corner of Aunt Joyce’s place. There were a lot of sweet pumpkins, freshly brought from someone’s good farm. It costed quite some bucks, but it was surely worthwhile to spend.
On my way home, I looked up to the sky, wondering: Is this beautifully painted sky I am looking at is the same sky you’re admiring?
With fluffy cotton candy clouds-your favourite guilty pleasure- the sky looked magnificent.
I reached home, lights weren’t on. Maybe Mother was sleeping, in this cold weather. I pushed the leaf of the door, revealing very dark view of the house’s inside. I switched on some lights and lighted up the chimney. Mother was sleeping on the couch, hugging Laboon in her hands.
You must’ve remembered the first time we saw Laboon, right? Good old times.
I tried your recipe. That Honey Pumpkin Pie. I mean, Your Famous Honey Pumpkin Pie. It turned well, too!
I wanted to wake Mother up, but she was sleeping like a baby so I didn’t. She tasted the pie the next morning, and she thought it was great.
I write to you this time, twice as long as usual, as I didn’t reply the last time. You might miss this kind of writing later on, when I start to use short reply again.
Well, please tell me how are your days, and are the people there friendly to you. I’ll wait.
And that was one of the letter that I always felt guilty reading because it was a letter to a dead wife from a longing husband, being placed on the tombstone every two or three weeks.
I am a graveyard keeper, Mordecai. But people called me Old Mo. I’ve been a keeper for almost 4 decades, but I had never seen such loyalty.
The couple weren’t locals, they moved here 7 years ago, because I heard the guy got a new job. Joanne, my wife, was quite close to the late wife because they worked under a similar publishing company. They were both authors. I met Ainsley frequently, at the Farmer’s Market because I love to shop there. I was surprised to know that Lily was gone, I was on my day off, Saturday, if I’m not mistaken. I heard the phone rang, I was at the living room while our phone was hang at a corner between the kitchen and the living room. The sound ended a few seconds afterwards-Joanne picked up the phone. I could see her reflection from the cupboard’s mirror, she nodded a few times, but I couldn’t really see her expression. With my decreasing eyesight, you can’t actually expect too much. I continued to read Baltimore Sun, the headline was “Old Case Reopened: Justice For The Gone”. The story was about a very respected man here in Baltimore, our former Head Officer of Police Department, late Benjamin Eaton.
They found the murderer of his ex-wife. His new brother in law.
World isn’t even a place to live anymore. It’s too dangerous, people with ill-intentions are everywhere, so be careful. That would be my very advice to Joanne whenever she goes out to work or to meet her friends.
So, back to the story of a loyal, longing husband.
Joanne came to me with remaining tears in her face. I was a bit surprised, and when she spilt the reality, my mouth couldn’t utter a word. I stood up and get ready for the funeral.
She was laying in white in the coffin, and sobs filled the air. Joanne sat in silence, similar to me, didn’t know what to even talk about. Ainsley’s face was miserable and messy. He looked confused and dumbfounded. Losing your wife in a blink on an eye, that ain’t easy, mate.
I pat his back, and he replied with a bitter smile. Be tough, man.
November 5, 2016 in Uncategorized
i wonder if you knew these or not
you’re a flower, soft and beautiful
you’re a sun, bright and joyful
you’re a river, composed and bountiful
and you’re a keeper, patient and dutiful
you actually knew,
but you insist not to learn the truth
you keep believing
as a flower, you’re weak and sad
as a sun, you’re scorching and bad
as a river you’re raging with fear
and as a keeper, you’re stern without desire
wake up & realise
all of these words
August 20, 2016 in Uncategorized
how does it feels when you are in love?
is it happiness? like when you get presents on your birthday or when you scored all A’s in your exams?
or is it like you have a mixed feelings? like when your friend asked you out but you’re super lazy but he’s your best friend so you don’t wanna get into a brawl or when your basketball team won the tournament against your twin brother’s team?
or it might be the feelings of sadness? like when cars ran your cats to death or when your favourite show had a bad ending?
at least somebody please answer me?
I’m tired of being a love doctor without experience :’)
August 20, 2016 in Uncategorized
It was 4 years ago.
I was in my junior high. Too naive to realise that world is not a safe place for a dreamer.
So, I dreamed big. Bigger than no one else ever imagined.
Then, life started to pick up lemons along the way. But my courage won against them. Until the real day came.
Shattered. Broken. And all the synonyms that you could find in any thesaurus.
Life is not only about sunshine, flowers and tasty food. Rainstorms and rancid trashes are parts of life as well.
The thing is, you cannot constantly get whatever you want. Because what you want is not necessarily yours & what you need.
Sekian rant saya pada pukul 2 pagi.
August 5, 2016 in Uncategorized
i try to avoid you
every single time
we cross our paths
because it’s like deja vu
your face makes bells chime
and heart scaths
too strange for me to describe
what is this alien yet close vibe
like wind blows
chilling my nose
during every autumn
firm and solemn
i know it’s not you
i know it’s not deja vu
it’s just me seeing things
it’s just my heart’s missing
even if i cry till my eyes turn pitch black
i know you’re not gonna come back
July 19, 2016 in Poetry/Puisi
you were trapped in a mind labyrinth of insecurities
while you actually have nothing to think, no worries
you mistook a bright sunlight with scorching fire
which actually it was a knot of rainbow forming into a single ray that you should admire
you even had fear of looking to your own reflection
why would that be when you are perfection
even if you crossed thorny mountain and dark alley
none of them should change your identity
you are what you are
put overthinking in a jar
throw it afar
and heal the scar
May 17, 2016 in Uncategorized
of kompang and bunga rampai
of bunga telur and inai
of pelamin and bunga manggar
alongside with a bunch of makciks whom are your relatives
but you cannot keep track who is maklong and who is maklang
looking good, aite?
the thing is
to be married is
and to cooperate
and many other verbs you can insert
not just to have a fancy event that you get called as raja sehari
May 15, 2016 in Uncategorized
Grey clouds were rolling over the hills. I was alone, on my bed – covered by blood red bed sheet . It was almost 6 p.m. when I glanced over the clock on the wall. Yes, the clock. We fought over it because nobody wanted to buy the battery, replacing the old ones. At last, we got it for free from Kak Ita, the hostel supervisor. Stingy little girls from Nova, aren’t we? I stood up and walked leisurely. To the corridor. Dark and gloomy. I saw her. That girl with messy hair – Liyana. My roommate. Smile was all over her face and I greeted her. I went to the toilet, and heard someone’s singing. Singing lullabies. Who the hell would sing lullaby in gloomy evenings like this? Peculiar but whatever. I should be going, I thought. After I washed my hands, I took my toiletries out.
That morning, I woke up. Zarifah was still on her bed. Sweat made me uncomfortable though, I rubbed my face to rid of them. Surprisingly, they were crimson. As red as my bed sheet that the Government had provided. Spooky thoughts started to race into my mind, I peeked at my right side. She was smiling brightly but creepily. I automatically stood up and took a step back. She was not there. I sighed. Do this upcoming examination make me insane? It is not that bad, isn’t it? I took a deep breath and got back to sleep.
Frantically, I heard a knock at the door. I turned to the direction of the sound, and saw the figure. IT SAW HER! I froze, and she was coming to me. I screamed…………………
“Jom,jom,jom! Chem class! Ey get up you lazy bum!”
‘Aifaa’s annoying voice demolished my castles I just built in the air. Really, I was daydreaming ? Don’t believe myself but continued to get my Chemistry’s buku limau & put it in my beaten-up bag pack. While carrying my body and soul to Dewan Kuliah, I kept thinking. Who the hell is she? What the heck that she wants from me? Why does she keep appearing like that in my dream/days/life? And the most crucial thing is why did we look alike? Do I had a twin? But she died? Or I ate her during pregnancy? Did Ma hid that secret to me? Saw Ms Azliza came out from her Viva, I fastened my pace. Chemistry class should end at 12 p.m. I looked at my watch, 10 more minutes to face all this crappy science stuffs. Ms Azliza was still scribbling the formula to remember reactivity of metals on the whiteboard and some of the girls were busy copying in front. ‘Aifaa, Nabilah and Wafa too. But not me. Her appearance made me uncomfortable today, none of the lesson made it in my mind.
“Okay guys, that’s all for today. Make sure you guys come here tonight. It’s Sir Suhazri’s turn okay? Pandai?”
And everyone replied, “Pandai!”.
I quickly picked up my bag pack and fastened my pace out of the lecture hall. My adrenaline rush did made me rush, though. I saw Afina but my agony overpowering my mind to even talk to her. I reached Nova at about 5 minutes later.
“So, what do you want? I’m here already. I know it’s you who makes me rushing all the way here. ”
Sounds of footsteps approaching made me turned my head. It was Nabilah.
“Iman! What make you so fast eh? Pheww, I’m out of breath!”
I was standing in front of the dorm when Nabilah came. I turned again. Where is Nabilah? I turned back and frantically saw her. It was her again, the girl. She was wearing a long navy blue gown, nicely pleated at the bottom of it. It looked like old
school uniform somehow.
“Hello Iman. You came. I’m Sabrina.”
“Yeah. Are we what, classmates that we can make an ice-breaking session now ?” I smirked.
“Hey, no. Don’t go.” She pleaded when I turned my back to her.
“I just want to seek for help”
“What help? What crap are you trying to tell me now?” I replied.
“I want to be you.”
When I heard the word, I tried to escape. I ran across the floor and headed for the stairs. Okay, only one floor to go. I descended the stairs and found more stairs. Wait a minute. More stairs? I thought this is first floor….crap! She was playing on me. Okay, this is ridiculous. I looked around and saw no sign of the girl. I stopped in front of Tulip 3 and sighed. I looked at the windows because I thought I heard somebody was talking. I really hope this was some kind of absurd dream I usually had during BM class or whatever but I was pretty sure I was not dreaming. So I walked slowly towards the door until I felt somebody (or maybe something) was putting her/his (or it) hands on my shoulder. Really, man? Do you need to do this kind of greetings? My pace was halted and the hands were gone. I was quite relieved, but yeah, God knows what was in front of me. The hallway was bare and the only sounds penetrating the air were made by my breath. “Hello, anybody there?” I knocked the door politely. I pushed the door. It was unlocked? An amazing sighting was in front of me. Everything seemed very classic. The beds, the locker, and even the curtain. What is happening, really? Then, I hear footsteps. And voices.
“You know what, the new girl?”
“Yeah, what’s her name again?”
“Yeah, yeah. What about her?”
“She’s dead” “For God’s sake, really?”
“She came here like…2 months ago? Geez, she’s really got the creep anyway,”
“Hey, don’t say that she might hear you!”
“What? Hey you little superstitious girl!”
“No, it’s true. She’s been haunting the murderer.”
And the voices became slower and slower as the girls passed by. And my heart was racing so fast, as I felt a touch on my shoulder along a slow, yet creepy lullaby.
“You must help me. No matter what. Help me to find my murderer.”
She started crying. I was not sure where did I got the strength to turn around, but I did. Thank God she was beautiful and all but one thing that bothered me to be brave was her pair of sad eyes.
“What? How can I help you? You said earlier you want to be ME. I REPEAT, ME! As in Iman Addin Shah. The fabulous. Okay, no. And you make me ran around like an idiot and descending stairs like crazy. Therefore, you can’t”, I replied.
I don’t know why I talked like that. Maybe influenced by Khairunnisa the Fab, one of my closest friend. And….why am I so brave to talk to her, to reject her request and to say no!? Losing my mind, I guess?
She stood up.
And I took a step back. It is super weird see someone who looks exactly like you, in front you but it’s not you.
“Please, Iman. You’re my only hope. I don’t see any other path.” …..and she started sobbing.
I sighed. Loudly.
“Alright. But how am I going to search for this killer? Is he even alive? I mean seeing you right now, your school uniform, it’s like looking at my grandma Chee in her teenage. No offence.”
I raised both my hands up.
Hence, she opened her mouth to spit out the truth.
She was alone at the library until it was 4 in the evening. Physics class was canceled because Teacher Aida was not around, she sent Robotics student to National Robotic Competition. The page of the book was scribbled with Physics formula that should be memorised as they won’t be provided at the first page of the examination paper. To say that, yes, exam was around the corner at that time. She peeked at the clock, and it was 4.30 p.m.. She got up and packed her things. She walked back alone. Sabrina said that she had no friends. So I ask. Even classmates? She said they were too busy with their own life they unable to bother with my existence. Okay, that was pathetic, I thought. So she continued the story.
Principal’s List was pasted on the dormitories boards.
And she ranked first for the past examination. Without the distraction of peers, studying was an easy task for her. Nobody ever wondered her intelligence nor jealous of her as she was lonely. What’s the point of having the happiness of getting first in your batch, but you could not celebrate it with the one you love? She sighed, after saying that. I reminded to all my friends-Nabilah, Wafa, Izyan, ‘Aifaa, Afina, Liyana, Zarifah,- grateful to have them in my life. So you didn’t call your parents? I will surely call my Ma if I ranked first in examination, so that Yi Ma stop bothering with questions like ‘How your Chinese?’ ‘When is the examination’ ‘Did your team wins?’. Duh, old folks.
Then, I asked. I won’t be here just to hear your life story? I still got stuffs to do, I said. She nodded and continued.
When she got back to her room, she noticed there was a letter on her desk. She tore the envelope and tossed the remaining into the waste basket.
It’s your sister, Mel.
I will be moving to your school, in a few weeks time. I told Dad not to, and persuade Ma to talk to Dad, but I failed. I am very very sorry if you hated my presence but there is nothing I can do other than obeying Dad’s command. So, I will be in class 4 Usaha, my dorm is Tulip 3. I can’t wait to see you despite what you feel about me. See you soon!
I shook my head because I could see the letter, with all those cursive writings that I really hate because my handwriting’s sucks and I felt like I was experiencing the situation myself.Get a grip, Iman.
“So, you hated your sister and she moved to the same school as you are?”
“She is more than a sister. She is my twin sister”
“Woah, so she got same face like you lah?” I asked, revealing my home Chinese-English accent.
“You’ll find out, just later.” she said.
“Well, okay.” I smirked.
She pulled my hand and I froze. I am surely not okay with skin ship…..I felt weird.
“Where are we going? Won’t you finish your story? So I can help you?”, I asked abruptly.
“This is the climax. Come.”
She walked at a moderate pace until we reached my dorm, there was a signboard hanging by the door, “Kamar Pengawas Ruby Aras Satu” which now called as Nova. She reached out her pale, slim hand to me and I held it, closely. I don’t know, I thought I was hypnotised. Suddenly, it felt like the room was rotating very very fast and my head hurt. Then, I saw stuffs. Premonition or, accurately post-monition.
Sabrina was standing alongside of the corridor with a blue gown that I saw her earlier. Then, came a figure, almost as same as Sabrina, the height and stuffs but she had longer hair. Frantically, she choked Sabrina harshly and I was dying to see her face. Sabrina struggled her life and her feet were kicking out trying to save herself. However, the criminal with a long, almost brown hair was stronger than her. Then, to my surprise, she brought out a voodoo doll which looked exactly like Sabrina. Curly hair, rosy cheeks….and she stabbed it with a knife. Sabrina screamed her lungs out and that was the end of her. Then, satisfied, the criminal laughed as she turned her body around. She smiled to me…..Grandma Chee?
Lights shone very brightly till I was nearly unable to open my eyes. It was morning again. And I am still laying on my bed. Oh God, what a long night for such weird, scary and absurd dream. Thank God it was just a dream. I should call my Ma when it is lunch time and tell her about this and might as well ask if I ever had a twin sister. As usual, with Liyana in front and ‘Aifaa by my side. I tried to get up. Strangely, I felt very light. But I kept on walking. I stopped when I realised, I was floating. I turned around there was me on the bed. Still laying and sleeping soundly. I rushed to the mirror. Zilch. There was no reflection. Last thing I saw was her again. Grinning without mercy.
May 14, 2016 in Uncategorized
an orange-yellow light glows from a room
at a double-storey house with small yard
the family is laughing, i can hear
i look up to the sky
and i vow to the star
that i will be happy
i reach the house which i still cannot call as home
an orange-yellow light glows from the room
the family is arguing, i can hear
i look up to the sky