December 31, 2009

You Sux !!!!!1!!1!

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Did the title seem idiotic?

To me, it seems a bit dumb. But maybe it's because I've never been so excited that I'd miss pressing the Shift button when wanting to type '!'.

And maybe because I am - in general - correct grammatically (e.g. I don't make you wince in agony with each subject-verb agreement). 'You suck' would suffice. In fact, there is no point in putting the exclamation mark there.

"You suck."

It seems perfect enough. But then again, that might be due to my bland sense of humour.

Why am I unloading a whole box of crap here?

I am leaving in less than 48 hours. It's called a panic attack, dear.


These last few days, my mom hasn't been going around hen-pecking me about playing Magic: The Gathering on the XBox for more than 15 hours a day, doesn't mind me using the computer till midnight, doesn't say a word about me hoarding the TV all day.

When she offered me the last nugget despite me already eating three of them I finally realised what she was trying to do. Of course, what she said clued me in further.

Me: Umm, no, it's okay, Ma. You take it.

Ma: How many have you eaten? (she's only eaten one)

Me: Three. Why don't you take it?

Ma: No, no, you take it. Go ahead.

Me: You take it, Ma.

Ma: You sure you don't want this?

Me: Yeah. I'm sure.

Ma: You sure you won't miss this at NS?

Me: ...



I've cut my hair. And I look... different. Not really boyish, but slightly bit stylish.

And these last few days, I've been purchasing more things than I've purchased in a whole year combined. Ruz was nice enough to suggest that I bring anti-bacterial swipes (for the toilet seats), sunblock (which I did purchase, in paranoia) and many, many other things.

Ruz: Always travel with at least two luggages.

Me: ... Ruz, dear, they allow only one.

Ruz: OH. Well, thank god I'm not going.


As to WALB (I'm just a teeny-tiny bit tired of typing When the Autumn Leaves Blush), I'll post it up when I can - BUT I promise I'll continue writing it at NS and by the time I come back, I should be done with the plot and story-line.

And no, I will NOT put Soph and Sean together. It's like incest.

Oh, by the way, Chi, I know I suck. I just get my kicks where I can.

And no, you can't divorce me. I'll end up finding a new stud at NS and I'll make him my sex slave. For the sake of this faceless man, you must remain married to me.

It's what you do with the seconds that count,
Not the time you spend counting them.


December 28, 2009

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part IV

As dictated by Faranza Syns

This time, it's for fun.

Thanks to Aja, Amanda and Ruz for getting me back into perspective.

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

Chapter 3

At the shrill sound of what she regrettably recognized as Sean's personal ringtone - he liked to make her jump to attention for him - Sophia groped around for her handphone and found it inside her pillowcase. Grunting and pushing strands of hair away from her face, Sophia answered while still lying down. "Hnn?"

"Meet me downstairs."

She rubbed her sore, tired eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm leaving town today."

Still groggy, Sophia laid back and stayed quiet for a few seconds, then said, "Huh?"

"I'm leaving Harlow's Bayou today, Soph. I'm going away. Look," he said, now starting to sound impatient. "Would you come down, please?"

"Going away?" Sophia said on a whisper. "What are you talking about?"

"Again, come down. I'm at the door. I need to say some things."

"I'm not decent." Then, what Sean was trying to say diced through Sophia's grogginess. She inhaled sharply. "Wait - you're only leaving for a while, right? Geez, don't scare me like that, Sean! God, you know how I hate having people leave just like that. Stop dropping bombs - "

Sophia paused at the beginnings of her tirade as her anger was met with the dull sound of the dialing tone.

For the first time in their relationship, Sean Hayes had hung up on her.


Sean stood on the grand patio of Dorwood Manor, his hands tucked nonchalantly in the front pocket of his jeans. His eyes surveyed the glory of the well-tended grounds of the manor with a degree of detachment. A sudden sense of bitterness surged in his chest and he clamped his jaws tight, taking in a deep breath.

Was she up there, in her room, lounging about in lavish bed sheets, laughing at the stupidity of a boy who had waited hours for her?

His lips twisted in a vicious snarl. Well, screw her. He was done - especially after what he saw last night when he walked past Dorwood Manor.

It was disgusting, vile, and he never wanted to see her ever again. She was sick, alright, and she was not the girl he used to know.

Holding on desperately to stay calm, he closed his eyes and tried to push the thought away, succeeding by a very narrow margin. Still strung tight, he turned on his heels immediately as he heard the door swing open.

"You hung up on me!" Sophia fumed. "You've never ever done that!"

Sean stood back and stared at Sophia. Why could he not fall in love - or even lust, for that matter - with Soph? She was beautiful, having inherited the highly acclaimed beauty of the Dorwood blood, and she was twice as smart as he was. She was aggravating at times, but she always wanted the best for her friends - for him. Even when it was unnecessary and insignificant, she still worked her ass off trying to make a certain person happy. It was that one thing that had made them close since that day many years ago when he had finally approached her and asked about Danielle. She had glared dirks at him, asking with tight lips why he wanted to know about Danielle. When he had told her that he was just trying to thank her...

That was when she had clapped her hands in delight and declared that they were now friends, despite him being abominably male (she was sure he would take a turn for the better one day, a thought that bewildered and amused Sean without end).

So why not Sophia?

"What did you mean by you were leaving?"

Sean reinserted his hands into his pockets. "I'm going back to military school."

He brushed his feet against the gleaming wood underneath him. "I hate shitting my pants whenever people grab me by my shirt collar, or jumping a mile high whenever people shout my name."

Sophia frowned. "You don't ... get bowel movements whenever people grab your collar," she corrected. "Last time Foster did that, he ended up on his behind."

"Yeah, well... I don't like feeling like I can't handle something as stupid as military school."

"That's nonsense - "

"I just need to go back there and see it again as an older me. I was young when I went there the first time. I'm tougher now. I just... Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Sophia held onto the doorframe. Her expression of puzzlement soon gave way to comprehension and defeat. To her, this was a repeat of the many times Danielle had flown off, leaving her alone. "I think so."

"I'll write." Sean watched as Sophia grimaced, looking away. He understood. In fact, he always somehow knew that he would not be writing back home anymore.

"What about Danielle?"

"Don't ever say her name in front of me."

Alarmed, Sophia stared at him. "Sean?"

"It was stupid and I don't want to think about it."

Discomfited, Sophia inched forward. "Sean, something happened last night."

"Of course something happened - "

"No," she cut him off urgently. "I think it was something bad. Very bad," a look of fear and uncertainty crossed over her features. "Danny was crying last night, screaming that it was someone's fault - that someone did something. I don't know what happened - "

Sean raised his hand. "Stop it, Soph. I'm done with Danielle."


Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm done, alright? I hate to admit it, but I've been obsessing over her, and it's unhealthy. I'm stopping it now."

Incredulous, Sophia gaped for a moment, then rushed to make amends. "No, you haven't been obsessing. And Danny - Danny needs our help. Something awful happened last night."

"I saw her last night - sneaking into your house. Nothing bad happened from the way she was acting last night alright."

"No! She wasn't home until later. She was crying when I got home and -" With each word, Sean could feel his faith in her blossom back to life. Maybe it really was not her and maybe he had been wrong. Maybe she needed him now, more than he needed her years before. Maybe...

He steeled his resolve against the pleadings of his affections. "Soph, it's done. Done." The finality in his tone ceased Sophia's desperate words. Anger quickly replaced it.

"How can you just toss her aside like this? She needs us -"

"Wrong!" Sean snapped. "She needs you. She doesn't need someone she doesn't know. She doesn't need someone she stood up," he jeered. "Just can it, Soph. I came to say goodbye. Don't ruin it."

Sophia's breathing remained laboured for a while, then, stiltedly, she stared back at him. "Can't you just give her one chance?"

"No," Sean answered quietly. "I gotta go, Soph."

She frowned, and his heart buckled when he saw the tears in her eyes. He grabbed her gently and hugged her, regretting the harsh words. "I'm sorry."

"Promise to write," she muttered.



"She's gone!"

"What do you mean she's - "

"Her clothes are missing, her cellphone, her wallet - everything! Ryan, Watson, she's gone!"

"Call the others and check if they'd seen her! She must be with the others. Me and Ryan'll get the car - she can't have gone far."

"Let her go. Maybe we should teach her a lesson - cut her off for being so damned stubborn."

"Ryan, how could you say that? She's you daughter!"

"No daughter of mine runs away from home - no daughter of mine lies to me, and shames me."


Danielle sat quietly, a counterpoint to her noisy, buzzing surroundings. Her eyes devoid of emotion, she stared at her hands, letting a sense of false peace envelope her being. The now-familiar vibration of her handphone against her thigh did nothing to budge the stillness that was spreading like bushmaster poison in her veins. Somehow, she felt that the less she moved, the slower it would spread. But spread it did.

Moving as slowly as she could she took the handphone out. Names flashed on the screen. She bit her lip and stood up, pocketing the device.

As she dragged her bag forward, cutting through the dense crowd, she felt her cellphone vibrating again. Pausing, she took a calming breath, and took it out. At the name on the screen a flood of emotions choked her. Anger and rage conquered. Without thinking, she raised her arm and threw her phone towards a decorated, marble pillar.

The phone shattered into unfixable pieces. So did the only connection between her and her family of once-upon-a-time

Hardening her resolve, Danielle walked away from the mess that was her emotions and her past. She'd get through this - support, or no support. Alone, but who cared?

Within two days, nobody could find Danielle no matter how hard they searched.

By the time they realised it wasn't the normal sulk of a hormonal teenager, Danielle had vanished.


-end of chapter 3 -



As dictated by Faranza Syns

"Ah. A black bra. The perfect weapon for a woman who doesn't like to do her laundry."

- Sophia Dorwood, when asked by Sean Hayes on her reaction if to be given a black bra.


December 25, 2009

Bah. Lol.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I think not many would get the true meaning of my title. Hah.

I'm a little too tired and it's really affecting the way I write, so I think I'll put off posting up a new chapter until tomorrow night.




As dictated by Faranza Syns

I just came back from Lumut. I think I need some time to let the fact catch up with me. It's sorta like jet lag except I haven't really felt it before.

It was a swell-schmell time there. Of course, there was the sea. And I loved it. At around 7, the waves were pretty strong, and it made things all the more fun. Once (for me, twice for the other girls, since I didn't get to go to the beach the day before) Abang Joe, one of my unmarried, 30-something cousin dove underwater as the other boys circled the girls in the water. Then, as he resurfaced, he let out a battle-cry and splashed all of us. Needless to say, the girls put up one hell of a fight and everyone ended up laughing their asses off, panting. Heck, I've forgotten how fun and taxing playing in the water is at times.

The Girls' and Guys' chalet are adjoined, and we were separated only by a thin wall of wood on the inside, and a short wooden fence on the outside. Mostly, the guys liked to crash at our place and despite the girl's attempts to herd them out, hell broke loose on our heads. In the end, it was a battle for sanity.

I slept early just to escape the noise. But whaddya know? Their ruckus could penetrate even the most thickened fog of sleep. I stuffed my ears with my earphones and turned the volume up to somewhere around "CAUTION: MIGHT CAUSE SEVERE EAR PROBLEMS."

I could still hear them in my sleep.

It was hell intermingled with heaven.

Heck, that is so wrong.

I don't like living under your spotlight.


December 23, 2009

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part III

As dictated by Faranza Syns

A lot of people seem to have forgotten that this story is actually a continuation. If you guys don't remember, click on the link named "Prologue" on top and it'll bring you to the beginning. No worries, I keep all of them in the archive, so it's not going anywhere. Oh, thank you on the feedbacks. It helps a lot since there are some parts that seem vague and people don't understand. By asking me these seemingly irritating questions, I get to modify them accordingly for ... better consumption. Thank you. And thanks to Google search too. Over the years, you have become my best compadre (it began when I became friends with Tarrant). Without you, I am - most of the time - a lost lamb.

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

Chapter 2

When you read a book authored by a sixteen year old girl twice a day, everyday, it was either she wrote really good fiction, or you were pathetically obsessed. For the sake of his dignity, Sean decided to let himself believe the former.

Exhaling on a breath laden with reminiscence, Sean closed the book in his hand. Arms draped over the back of a garden bench, his ankles on his knees, Sean closed his eyes and dropped his head back, savouring the crisp, cold autumn air.


The fall.

He remembered. She had once said she loved autumn, loved the colour of the leaves - loved the fall. Opening his eyes, he looked around. Being here, at the compound of Harlow's Bayou Elementary School made him feel tamed, nonvolatile - safe. It had a calming effect on his nerves.

And his nerves had been pretty wracked since 6 A.M.

Rubbing his free hand on his thigh - a habit he had picked up since he was thirteen, and battered beyond his own body's limit - Sean stared at the scrawl of the title on the handmade cover of a book he had grown to know so well over the past four months.

N.O.T. in Words

Danielle D.O.

He smiled. Danielle. He never knew that. The one time he had tried to ask anyone what her name was, he had unthinkingly asked the wrong sort of people, and came away empty handed, with only a few girls snickering amongst themselves at his retreating back. The girls he had questioned still had not changed - they still bitched regularly, loudly and shamelessly.

But, he was thankful for one thing.

Sophia Dorwood.

He jumped onto his feet at the shrill sound that pieced the air. After a few seconds, he finally recognized the sound for what it was - Sophia's self-appointed ringtone. Fumbling around in his jeans pocket, he took out his cellphone. "`Lo?"

"Sean Hayes, get your arse down here, imme-jitly."

Snorting at her snotty, uppercrust accent - the one she unknowingly affects whenever she had a point to nag about - Sean brushed the book against his thigh. "Quit biting my ear. What's the rush?"

"It's three-thirty and you know it. You have to get here - now. Or god help you, I will grab Uncle Lewis' baseball bat, hold you down, and bring that bat down right in between your pretty little -"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Sean brought the book to his chest and brushed it there. "But I don't... this is a bit..." He halted, not knowing how to explain to her that what he was about to do - what she was about to force him to do - was a daunting move for him. Not that it was not something he did not want to do. Heck, he wanted to do it. But after three years of merely relegating her to his thoughts only, and never seeing her, having to face Danielle now was scary.

Heck, he read her books everyday. Meeting Danielle was not only scary - it was tearing his sanity apart bit by bit. What if she had changed? There was a definitely high possibility that she would not even like him. Heck, the last time they had communicated was when he had his head in a toilet bowl - a mortifying thought, that. She'd remember him as Toilet-head Dude.

Worse yet - what if she did not even remember him? He had seen her three years ago. She had seen him seven years ago, if you did not count the last time he saw her. No one could recognise him then - he had been too messed up to even be identifiable.

"Look, Hayes, if you don't get your ass down here by three-forty one, I will -"

Before he lost his nerve to go against Sophia, he blurted, "Latest by six."

Sophia was silent. In his three years worth of experience that usually meant two things. It was either she was stupefied, or she was contemplating mass-murder. "What?" she asked.

It was definitely mass-murder.

"Look, I really - I need some time to, you know, take some fresh air-"

"You've had fresh air since 6 A.M. when you desperately called me to make sure that I've set everything up to perfection and when I tell you to get back to sleep, no, you just couldn't, you had to stay awake and pester me every few seconds, asking me the stupidest of the most stupid questions, acting like an ee-jiet - "

"Soph," he called out softly over her tirade. He took in a deep breath. "Please?"

Miraculously, for the first time, he heard her growl. "God, I hate you sometimes, Hayes," she gritted out.

"You say that, but we really know you love me a lot."

"Yes, I love you. Fine." She harrumphed. "By six, you got me?"

"Aye, aye, Capn'!" he gave a mock-salute just for fun, standing ramrod straight, hand to his forehead, adding to the air of camaraderie in their on-the-line dialogue.

Sophia could not quite contain her snuffle of laughter. "Six, Sean, remember."


"Who was that?"

Sophia turned around quick enough to twist her ankle. "Sean." Her answer was automatic as she looked at her cousin lounging comfortably on her bed.

"Oh?" Danielle perked up. A naughty grin spread over her lips. "Your boyfriend?"

Sophia's eyes widened. "No!" she said, sounding mightily insulted.

"You can tell me, you know."

A frown marred the perfect arched wings of Sophia's eyebrows. "He is not."

"Hmm..." Danielle, nodded, smiling indulgently from where she lounged, as if knowing Sophia did not mean what she said, but pretending to believe it, just to placate her.

Sophia stood akimbo, eyes narrowed. "You know, that's rather annoying."

Grinning, Danielle sat up. "You think so?" Merriment in her eyes, Danielle sat cross-legged on the bed, barefoot. "If you guys aren't a couple, I don't know what you are. 'Oh, Sean, I hath loved you since the day I hit puberty'," Danielle teased breathily. "'Say, say you love me, or I shall perish in ashes and flame,'" Danielle shrunk herself into a tight ball, depicting Sophia's supposed misery. She added mewling sounds for great measure.

With a bland face, Sophia grabbed a small plushie from on top of her computer and tossed it at Danielle who broke into laughter, rolling onto her side, on the bed.

"Har, har. Funny, Danny."

"Well," Danielle sat up. "You did say 'I love you' to him."

"I was just -"

Her cousin held up a hand . "Save it, Soph. You are so in love with him. I know. You talk about him a lot." Pushing back strands of wavy brown hair, she sat forward. "What is it that makes you so scared to admit it? Embrace the feeling, Soph - the truth shall set you free." She said it with a cheesy enough face that Sophia laughed. She knew Danielle was not serious.

For one minute there, she was scared it would all backfire. The only reason she mentioned Sean multiple times a day on their daily phone call was because she wanted Danielle to get used to him. Tell her a lot about him in hopes that she would get irresistibly interested in him, hence making Sophia's job all the more easy.

And now that Danielle was back for good, she could definitely start introducing them to each other. At that thought, she smiled. She had never known a guy more hell-bent on holding on to the memory of a girl who had so enthralled him when he was but eight years old.

But of course, that could also be because Sophia had never met many guys. The number of candidates who have tried out to participate in her love-life was as sparse as the number of tall, green, fruit bearing trees in Siberia. The last time she checked, the number was abysmally low.

"So, what do you think?"

At the question, Sophia focused at the topic at hand. She stared at Danielle, then at the shoes Danielle was modelling. Danielle did a pas de bourrée, her hands arching up in a funky move, her smile beautiful. "So? Is it hot?"

Sophia made a thoughtful moue with her lips. "Definitely. But on you..." she made a so-so gesture.

Danielle laughed. "You're catching up on insult, aren't you?" She sat down and took the shoe off again.

"Where'd you get them?"

"Isn't it the weirdest thing - Uncle Lewis gave them to me," she smiled with a bewildered expression.

"Wow. What're they for?"

"The prom tonight."

Sophia's eyes widened. "You are going?"


A brilliant idea formed in her head.

"Hey, cousin, I need to go get a dress. Very last minute, I know, but do you think you could -"

"Of course! Let's go!"

Danielle laughed as Sophia dragged her out, and right to stairs. "You go first," Sophia urged.


As soon as Danielle was halfway down the stairs, Sophia took out her phone.

"Change of plans," she texted. "Buy a ticket, and rent a suit. We're goin to prom."

"Soph!" Danielle called out, whining in impatience. "Hurry up! Papa's waiting!"

"In a second!" And Soph nearly tripped out the door.


Ryan stared with his hands in his pocket as his daughter waved goodbye at him. She slid into the car, still smiling and happy as Sophia's father started the engine.

He stirred from his immobile silence when he felt his wife's presence behind him. "I worry about Danny," he said as his wife wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"We both worry, sweetheart."

Ryan finally had to wave back when Danielle blew him a flying kiss from the backseat window. "I'll see you tonight Papa. No later than 12, I swear!" She waved again, and Ryan took in a deep breath of unease.

"This is different - you don't know boys like I do, Sara."

Sara shook her head. "Our daughter will be fine. Besides, she has her Virtue Protection Programme on," she said, chortling.

"Well, sure, go ahead and make fun of me, but it was a good programme. But lately I think it's a bit faulty. Sophia has a boyfriend - some boy named Shane?"

"All the more reason for you to relax. If Sophia's fine the way she is, our daughter will be, too. She won't be as silly as some other girls who would fall for a silver tongue, you know that, don't you?"

Ryan was slow to answer, and his answer was one that was non-committal and unsure. For just a second, Sara felt her heart quicken in panic. But quickly she reined the feelings in. Nodding to herself, she said, "Our girl will be safe. What could happen? It's only prom night."


The air was bitingly cold, and it was definitely not a night for short skirts, bare arms and deep decolletages. But being the strong, mighty, sometimes aggravatingly obtuse creatures they were, the teenage girls of HB High persisted, and wore what made them look their best.

In other words, clothes that made the guys notice - and if they were lucky, clothes that made the guys drool.

Sean, being a guy, was supposed to be majorly affected by this. But -

Really, could a collar get any tighter? Sean pulled at his tie, and fidgeted with the collar. He swore that a few days ago, the shirt was a perfect fit for him. He brushed his feet against the carpet lavishly spread out on the foyer floor. These shoes - was there a scuff mark on the tip? Crap. He bent to look but let out a frustrated sigh when he realised how out of sorts he was. He let out a nervous laughter, then cleared his throat and tried to look like he felt normal.

Unable to stop himself, he thought of her. What would she wear? What would she say when they met? Heck, what would he say? Hey, remember me? Ummm, I was the guy you saved from dying in the toilet.

God, no.


"Come on," Sophia tugged on Danielle's hand. "I want you meet someone."

Danielle cast a furtive glance around the foyer. "Okay."

"You will be super glad to meet this person - I just know it," Sophia grinned, eager beyond her own comprehension. This was the moment she had waited for all her teenage years and she would savour it - despite the fact that it was a depressing thought that she had to focus on other people's love-life instead of her own dismally non-existent one.

Then, Danielle paused, jerking her and her thoughts to a jarring stop. "Danny?" Sophia turned to look at Danielle's frowning face. There was horror - like she had just realised something important that she should have noticed moments before.

"Ummm... Why don't you go first? I'll call your cell - I'll be back soon." Danielle pulled away and began dissolving into the crowd.

"Wait - Danny! Where are you going?"

Danielle reappeared. "Here, I can't get this on yet. Keep this, will you? I'll be back for it."

Sophia stared at the beautiful corsage within her hands, then looked up.

Danny was gone.


"Hello. We've met before. I'm not surprised that you don't remember - I don't entirely want to remember that moment, too." Sean had to force himself not to grimace when he said it. "But I've been wanting to say thanks to you since that moment - and I really... appreciate? No, treasure. Umm, well I really appreciate your help that one time. And I'm honoured you'd spare some time to amuse your silly cousin, here." Cue: self-deprecating grin.

There. That was a good speech, considering the circumstances. He had recited it more than thrice under his breath as he stared at his shoes. Now, all he had to do was muster some gumption and present it to Danielle with his best, debonair charm and in five seconds flat, hold her spellbound to his irresistible, seductive personality.

Holy crud, he was hyperventilating.

Trying to calm his jumping nerves, he leaned against a marble pillar and tried to look as suave as he could be. He hoped he could pull it off. Then, his eyes caught sight of Sophia. His breath seemed to be slammed into his gut as he realised what the sight of Sophia meant. She was here. She was close-by, he amended, as he did not see her. He frowned as Sophia came to stand beside him, her expression as sour as grapefruits.

"She said she'll be right back." Sophia slapped something soft and prickly into his hand. He stared at the corsage. "That's hers. She's going to come back for it - and so help me god, when she comes back the first she's going to beg for forgiveness from would be you."


"I left her a message to look for you here when she's done."

"What?" Sean was on the verge of exploding. "Are you crazy? You shouldn't have done it! What did she say?"

"No idea," she shrugged. "She hasn't replied. But I figure she's going to be here soon."

Sean grinned. Maybe this was better. He wouldn't have to say anything about their past memories - alright, his past memories of her. He could just easily start a normal conversation and see where their chemistry would lead them. Smiling to himself, pleased, he felt more relaxed. He looked at Sophia who was lounging against the pillar with him, shoulder-to-shoulder. Eager to get rid of Sophia, he asked, "Aren't you supposed to be elsewhere?"

"Boy, you practice no subtlety, do you?"

"I'm a desperate guy," he fiddled with the corsage, feeling it as connection to the girl of his past.

Sophia pushed herself off the pillar. "I'll be around if you need me, okay?"

"Hah, not likely."

After four hours of waiting, Sean Hayes finally had to eat his words.

After four hours of being an idiot, Sean Hayes finally gave in, and corsage in hand, he told Sophia he was about to go home, and this whole thing was a stupid idea, anyway.

When he got into his car, he thumbed the corsage and a sharp pain of disappointment pierced through his chest. "I guess we're just not meant to be."

He stayed there for an hour more, wallowing in the feeling of being the jilted one.


Sophia stomped up the stairs, ready to rain hell on Danielle's hide. But as she neared her door, she passed the room that Danny's parents used. And she heard Danny from inside. Alarmed, she paused, not moving a muscle.

"But it was him - I swear it!" Danielle sobbed. Sophia had never heard that sort of pain, anguish and desolate hopelessness come from Danielle.

"Danny, sweetheart, you're tired and cranky. Maybe - "

"I won't get this wrong even if I'm dead! It happened to me! Don't you care what happened to me?"

"But, sweetheart, it's impossible. He's your ... uncle and - "

"He did, Papa! He ..." Danielle's voice dropped into a whisper.

Sophia frowned as she tried to overhear.

"It's one of those boys, isn't it?" came Uncle Ryan's stern, unforgiving voice, harsh and accusing. "They did it, but you're blaming someone else from the family. Danielle, tell me the goddamn truth!"

"I am!" Danielle screamed.

Unable to bear it anymore, Sophia escaped from the hallway. It was okay, she told herself. She would ask Danny what happened tomorrow.

If she had known that Danielle would be gone from her life come tomorrow, she would not have put it off,

Had she only known.

-end of chapter 2-

Note, I did this in a rush, so if there're typos, etc. ignore them as I'll go through this once more. Chapter 3 will be up when I get back from Lumut. Muahx.


December 22, 2009

I'm too settled, so it's shocking for me.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

As you guys might have noticed, I've changed the layout of my blog. I'm still trying to fix a few things, so don't bite my ass off just yet.

I call this layout the "Haha, YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" layout since there's no navigation bar for me to easily go to the Dashboard, the New Post section, etc. It also automatically deleted my links list, so now I'm gonna have to ask around for the address of other people's blogs. I am sooo not putting up Timothy's blog. (boycotting him because he left his blog unattended.) Those that I remember, I'll put your links up in a jiffy, but otherwise, just make sure you drop me a comment so that I can add you to the list.

Bah. I tell you, change is such a pain sometimes.

But you know what I like about this template?

I don't need to change the colour of my previous fonts. You don't know how much of a relief that is.

p/s: to those who are trying to keep track of When the Autumn Leaves Blush, look at the bars on top that read "Prologue" and "Chapter 1". You can click that and it'll direct you to the page immediately. So, whenever I'm done with a chapter, I'll update that section. Whoot, factor of this blog, non?

Drown those fears.


My Hero.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Three guys huddled behind a computer - that had better not be porn, because if it is, I want in.


Sometimes, he's just so aggravatingly him.


December 20, 2009

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part II

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I've actually already posted another continuation for the story that had been published in the school mag. Which reminds me - the story that had been published was not the final version of my work. I've edited the piece a few times before the final cut, but somehow, the original version went to print. Technical problems, I guess. But from the good comments I've received, I guess that's okay. Anyways, if you guys want to read the final cut, check my sidebar. I've edited that version so that it's the same as the one in my computer. As to the matter of the old continuation I've written, ignore that. I have a feeling you people prefer if I keep Sean the way he is.

p/s: I recommend you copy this, then paste it elsewhere and change the font to black. Green hurts the eyes too much, I think.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

Chapter 1

Sophia Dorwood liked some things hot, and some things cold. She liked her tea hot, and she liked her floors cold. In fact, she liked a lot of other things hot. But then again, at the age of thirteen, it really had not occurred to her that there are other things in her life that should be hot.

Boys, for example.

"I swear, Danny, if only boys didn't exist!" she scrawled on a piece of paper, tore it off the test pad on her table and stormed towards school, her heavy bag in tow. On the way, she paused at the door of her cousin's house, folded the piece of paper and all but tore the paper with the tip of her pencil as she wrote her cousin's name. Huffing indignantly, she bent and slipped the paper under the door. Satisfied, she walked on towards school.

Danielle, a more articulate and highly more lucid correspondent than her irate cousin, snatched the paper up from the other side of the door and read the message. Smiling to herself, she took out a small stub-like pencil from behind her ear, and leaned against the wall to scribble a reply.

As she rushed to her class, her white shoes made thump-thump noises that were drowned out by the somewhat comforting noises of adolescents being the rowdy creatures they were. She skidded to a halt in front of a row of lockers. Folding the piece of paper into a smaller strip, she slid the paper through one of the crevices of the locker's air vent. Smiling giddily, she ran to her class and plopped herself into her seat.

Sophia turned the dial on her locker key, and the door swiveled open. Her hawk-like eyes immediately caught sight of the paper as it fluttered down to the floor. She snatched it up, and unfolded the paper. She held her breath as she read, anticipating the full force of her cousin's wisdom and understanding.

Oh, how she could strangle Danny.

Soph, despite popular belief, we really didn't come from storks.


"Har, har, very funny."
Danielle looked up at her cousin, beaming. "Well, it made you laugh, didn't it?" She grinned, and shifted her books aside to clear a spot on the canteen table for her cousin.

Sophia pouted, then put down her sandwich and took a seat. "It did not," she huffed, nose high. Taking out the note, she read out loud. "'You still need boys, if not for anything else, then for giving you babies - you know, those thingamajigs that you've been dreaming of having since 5. No, not your Barbies.' Indeed. Very funny, Danielle."

Danielle nodded indulgently as she ate her yogurt. "It was brill, if I do say so myself." Then, putting down the spoon, she looked at Sophia, her eyes softening. "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

She jumped in her seat when Sophia slammed her books onto the table. "That boy. He is so aggravating. I feel like just... crushing him. Shrink him, then tear him limb from limb like Aunt Leticia's roast chicken, dip him in lye then toss him in a vat of toxic by products of -"

Danielle's eyes widened at the colourful outburst.

"- a million primates from the beginning of creation!"

Smiling, Danielle propped her chin on her fist. "But he seems rather adorable, don't you think so?"

Sophia gaped. "Collin?" She made a disgusted sound. "Boys are vulgar."

"You know, I think the reason Papa doesn't worry about me talking with boys is because I have a cousin like you. My own Virtue Protection Programme."

Sophia gave a snort. "We're Dorwoods. No one dares to besmirch our virtue," she stressed with confidence. When Danielle merely looked at her with an amused look, Sophia gave her cousin's arm a resounding smack and unwrapped her sandwich. "I don't know why I amuse you."

"Besmirch is a new word - where did you see it?"

"It was in one of Papa's books." She took a mighty bite out of her sandwich, chewed as delicately as she could, then swallowed. "And the other reason your Papa doesn't mind you being around those atrocious boys is because you are so very good."

"I don't think I sensed any sarcasm in that."

"I was not being sarcastic. Truly," Sophia said. "Since you saved that boy's life a few years back, people look up to you. Truly!"

Danielle smiled softly and stirred her yogurt, staring absently-minded at the milky, opaque swirls of the strawberry colouring. "I didn't do anything. Just made sure nurse made it there on time. She did, so it was fine."

Sophia took another bite, then mirrored her cousin's pose before, chin on palm, and stared into nothingness. "I heard he was very likable. All his friends fairly loved him."

Eyebrows furrowed, Danielle looked at her cousin. "What happened to him? I haven't seen him around."

"Oh," Soph straightened. "I heard he moved four years back. Some people said that his parents were outraged at the school administration because of the bad food. But I think that was very mean of them to move him just because they think it was the school's fault. How could you do that? That was very mean."

Hemming, Danielle thought for a while. "But then, there wasn't a health inspection carried out here, right?"

Lips parted, Sophia stared at Danny. "Oh. I keep forgetting that you moved away a while after that. No, there wasn't. Why?"

"Then, maybe his parents shifted him for a whole different reason. If the issue did come up, they'd have done the inspection, you know. Who knows, right?"

Sophia inhaled sharply. "You're right." She gave a sheepish smile. "I guess I shouldn't listen to people that much. But -" she lifted her index finger to make a point. "I heard he looked for you for about a week before he left. He never approached me, though, so I didn't say a word."

Danielle smiled. "It was probably just the girls trying to make gossip. Don't mind them - you're smarter than that."

Sophia smiled. Then, her face changed, and she sighed."God, Danny, I'll miss you a lot when you leave. Can't you talk to your Papa and beg him to let you stay with us for a while? We can go to school together. It wouldn't be fun without you here. Who's going to keep me in line?"

"Gee, Soph," Danielle grinned. "A few minutes ago you didn't even like my jokes, and now you can't live without me?"

Sophia pouted. Then, real sadness crept into her eyes, her shoulders slumped in inevitable defeat. Danielle grabbed Soph's hand. "I'll call daily. You wouldn't even miss me."

"This sucks."

"I'm still coming back to Harlow's Bayou, you know. I'm not leaving like that boy - whatever his name was."

Sophia nodded listlessly. Then, knowing that it was a much too depressing subject, she tried to ease both of them away from it. "Do you suppose he'll come back?"

Danielle grinned, and let go of Sophia's hand. "Maybe?"

"Hah! Imagine if he came back when you leave again. Wouldn't that just make you laugh?"


Sean sneezed. It was more than once, so he immediately discarded the notion that someone was talking about him. Really, lately he felt insignificant enough to know that no one was going to repeat his name more that once. And even if they did, they'd get it wrong.

"Hastings - 50 push-ups. NOW!"

"Schwayze, wash my plates!"

"Haynes! Get that bloody arse off-"

Well, the myriad of names are nearly countless, really. And he did not get how a simple name such as Hayes could be mistaken for Hollander in the first place. Out of all names, Hollander. Geez.

Sean looked out the window of the airplane and sighed through his nose. These four years had been agony. He gritted his teeth and pursed his lips into a straight, mulish line.

"Dear?" his mother called. Tensing up more than before, he did not move. Sighing, his mother placed a hand on his hand. "I'm so sorry." Sean did not move, his rigid, unforgiving back still facing his mother as he stared out at the blue skies and clouds below. He knew she was sorry, but dumping him at military academy was something he really found hard to forgive.

It was one thing if the academy had been an outstanding academy with strict discipline and a no-nonsense philosophy. It was another when they beat the crap out of you - daily. Sean gripped his fist on his thigh, feeling the dull throb of the lacerated skin. He blocked out what had happened and shut his eyes. His breathing labored as he felt the anger rise and echo in his chest. One of his toes was missing a toenail. He curled that toe and welcomed the pain.

He did not want to think about that place.

His mother took a ragged breath. "We'll reach Harlow's Bayou in a few hours."

Harlow's Bayou.

Sean opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. It sounded like something so distant in his memory. His friends, his class, his seat, his lunch-table, the pranks, the jokes, the laughter.

And her.

The prettiest girl he had ever seen. It had been four years. How much had she changed? Was she still there? Did she still smile the way she did? Did she still go around being the kind soul she was?

Sean shut his eyes once again, and tried to envision her - her smile.

Nothing came.

With a mounting sense of panic, he opened his eyes. He could not remember. What was the colour of her eyes? How did she look like? He remembered the feeling - he just could not remember the image. He knew how much giddiness and happiness suffused his being whenever he thought of her.

But he could not remember how she looked like.

Harsh, scalding tears filled his vision. The frustration escalated, and he leaned his forehead against the window. What else could they take from him?

He clutched his thigh and took in a haggard breath. Just once, he wanted things to go his way.

He wanted to see her. Just once was all he asked for. And if she weren't there... just the thought made him pray harder.

Please, be there.


Danielle rubbed her neck as she felt something call out to her.

"You ready, punkin'?"

She smiled up at her Mama. "Nearly." Disconcerted, she looked around the airport, twirling strands of her hair around her fingers. Someone - she needed to see someone. Did she actually miss out on saying goodbye to someone important? Surely not. She had said goodbye to everyone.

Pushing her bangs back, she scanned the bustling crowd. There was a boy, jumping up to get his parents' attention. There was an older woman, scolding her grandchildren for making a ruckus.

There was a boy - and the sight of him tore her heart out. One of his arms was in a cast, and his face was battered and bruised, one eye swollen shut. He limped, and kept his eyes down. But despite the impairment in his movement, he moved fast. He looked to be about her age, although he was shorter than her. Anger and outrage filled her. He was wearing normal clothes that looked clean and comfortable - he had a family. So why did they let him suffer that way? Had he been hit by a fast-moving vehicle? Her thoughts raced on as she watched him rub his thigh and saw how he shook unsteadily. Was he in pain?

Disgust filled her as she saw none of his relatives or guardians deemed it necessary to help him out, opting to let him move on his own, not wanting to trouble themselves.

Then, he looked up and stared at her, his bruised face still, unmoving.

"Punkin'! We have to leave now!" Mama called out.

He looked familiar.

"Danielle?" her Papa called.

She squinted to get a better look.

"We're late, sweetheart!"

For some reason, she lifted her hand - and waved.

Hopeful, she stared at the boy - waiting for a response.

When seconds passed and he merely stared, Danielle dropped her hand in disappointment, pursed her lips as if saying it was okay, then she turned.

It was time to leave.


Sean took in a deep breath and shuddered.

Thank you.

-end of chapter 1-


Like We Are.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Ruz said me apologizing looks pathetic.

I agreed. It just looks so out of its element in my blog.

So, buh-bye apology post. You've been there long enough.

Count the seconds - they matter.


Pinky Promised Me.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

My aunt sorta made me realise how little time I have left.

Aunt #1: So, you've basically two weeks left before you're leaving, huh?

Me: Errr, I haven't counted.

Aunt #1: No, really. You have two weeks.

God. Even my aunt's feeling a lot more eager than I am. And since she so delicately reminded me of my rapidly dwindling time, I started thinking about my blog.

And its soon-to-be stranded pages.

Here's two pinky promises I'll give you:
  • I'll post up a continuation for Sean Hayes' story (the one that's been published in the school rag) before I leave.
  • And I'll make a come-back after March.

You remember what I wrote about pinky promises?

The one who breaks it has to swallow a thousand needles.


On prom:





December 14, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

Need a natural moisturizer for your lips? Easy. Just wear a face mask (you know, those thingamajigs that seem to be produced thousand-fold whenever there's a pandemic? Yeah, those suckers) when you clean your room.

Oh, make sure to breathe very heavily. A bit unhealthy, but still, it keeps the dust out, keeps the germs in and more importantly, keeps the stale water vapour trapped.

Voila - natural moisture.

The beauty of it is, it obeys the law beauty: it's disgusting - it's agonizing - it'll make you beautiful. 97.5% guaranteed.

What I was going to say for this post was "Yay. I cleaned my room. Whoot." You know all those exam papers we've painstakingly kept for "future references"? That's gone. Those exercise books? Kapoof. Those novels I've written so far? Gone off the deep end. Those souvenirs from Sports Day (who the hell started the trend of BEGGING for souvenirs from other houses anyways)? That's already in the trash. Remember those trophies and medals we got during various events, competitions, debate etc.? YEAH, those.

Hell no. Who's crazy enough to throw those away?

But that aside, my room is now - in the strictest, most truthful sense of the word - clean.


(Has anyone noticed that I sound extremely blase in this whole post?)

They are idiots.


December 12, 2009

La. Near-Awesome.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Sleepover at Nurul's is now officially stamped as an NC-17 event.

Boy, that girl...

And people say I'm bad.


Nurul was sleeping on her bed, and me and Amanda were on the floor.

In Pn. Rashidah's words, me and Amanda were perpendicular to Nurul.


Amanda: Nurul, please be careful.

Me: I'm lucky. If she rolls over and falls down, she'll only hit me with her legs. You, however... [looks at Amanda] You'll get smothered by her boobs.

Nurul: EEE! [panics. shifts lower on her bed]

Me: Nurul! Don't! If you roll over you'll hit me with your crotch!

Nurul: Wah, dangerous la!

That's what we did the whole night. Crap-talk version 9.7

It's a near-perfect version.

Then, we went to a bistro at 1 A.M., drove past a group of gay men rendezvousing at the park, and basically being roadkill at 2 A.M.

We fell asleep at 3. Nurul nagged at her friends till 5. Then, she was comatose.

Thank god? Thank god.

You were da bomb.


December 6, 2009

On the matter of...

As dictated by Faranza Syns

On a response by Mr. HD whom I assume responded to Ms. R's post:

Nothing's bad about being rich, really.

It's just how lavishly you live, that's all. And how much you flaunt your bloody-rich-glittering arses in people's faces.

And, truthfully, people wouldn't call you a spoilt brat unless you act like one. Hey! What's up with thinking that the term belongs to rich people only? Poor people deserve to be called spoilt brats occasionally, too, you know! Stop hogging!

It's not all black and white. You're rich - it doesn't mean you're spoilt beyond redemption. You have money - it doesn't mean you have a stick up your arse.

It all depends on how you were brought up, and how you've turned out. Having money's not really your green-card to idiocy. Neither is the lack of it your God-given excuse to not get educated.

In an ideal world, what people would measure you by is your strength of character, and your morality, and your knowledge in life. Not your degrees, not your doctorates. Just your wisdom.

But really, an ideal world is too much to ask for. Heck, dream on for utopia - what we really have is dystopia. There's no such thing as perfect. That's why we have shades of gray. That's why we have people like (I'm so sorry, but please don't sue me) Bush.

But I digress.

My point was: you won't be called a spoilt brat, until you act like one. Being rich is no passport to being an arsehole. And being poor is no justification for being a slacker.

People who are well off should, of course, help people who are not so well-to-do. But don't help them too much till one party becomes too dependent on the other. You've helped them: fine enough, you have fulfilled your part in the grand scheme of things. If they take the chance that had been proffered to them, and make the best of it, good. If they don't, well, too bad. Don't bemoan the fact that you've helped them and you gain nothing. In God's eyes, you've done your best, and you have gained something: (hopefully) God's approval.

Again, I stress upon the fact that you are not a spoilt brat until you start acting bratty.

I apologize if my views offend some people. Please inform me if it has.

I will definitely NOT write a retraction.

Har, har.
I so know I'm screwed on the wrong side up.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

I showed my brother the blogs.

And we finally agreed on something mutually.

He didn't get neither head nor tail, shoot nor root of what they were writing.

It's a good news, bad news situation you'll never fully fathom, actually.

Sorry, sorry,
I have to stop apologizing, I know.


December 3, 2009

A not-so-good Tribute.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I'm tired, but not brain-dead.

And definitely not too sodomized to turn down a bitching session.



On a dude who wrote: I'm starting to work tomorrow. I need luck.

Me: it's like saying "omg, i'm starting to pee now!"


Anonymous: What I don't get is that they go to international schools. How can they have such miniscule vocabularies? How can their grammar be so shitty, that a person suffering from diarrhea gets jealous?

Sometimes, I feel bad bitching about people. Yes, seriously, I do.

But when you sodomise the English language so badly, that even a lawsuit-smack on the face would be a paltry sort of retribution... you're really asking for it.

'Maybe' is NOT the same as 'may be', and you don't 'work drastically'. You react drastically, you make drastic decisions. You don't wake up one day and drastically go to work.

It was enough to make me say the F word. And I just told Tarr that I'm reforming.


It's a sad, sad case we're reviewing. Sad, sad case.

Anonymous: Although i felt sort of intimidated (for god knows what reason) at first, but all i feel is hatred.

Me: Probably because Money = Status = Power = A sodomy case waiting to happen.

Bad, bad BAD wolf;
You should be ashamed of yourself.


The Abduction of Julia.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Is the title of a book.

If you came here to read about Julia Pan being abducted, I'm sorry. She hasn't been. Give her a call yourself and you'll find out. And even if by some twisted, sadistic quirk of fate, she has been, I doubt my brain cares anymore.

This morning, I set the alarm to 5.30 A.M. I didn't wake up.

In the grand scheme of things in my life, this is catastrophic.

We had the easiest paper today.

And yet, all through the exams, my hands were shaking. Not cold, not damp - just shaking.

When I'm focusing too hard on a certain something, my shoulder-blade starts to throb.

I am worried. Very.

But I suppose ... I suppose.

I found out that I'm leaving for Sabah in January. It's a moment that requires a burst of pleasure.

But I doubt it's within my ability to muster.

She signed the note with a flourish and dot.