In Un-onomatopoeic Terms

Three Stages to Saying Thank You

2012-01-01T18:07:00.001+08:00

Song in head: Things I'll Never Say - Avril Lavigne

Things I want to feel again:

The agony of keeping a straight face when people are talking about someone I like
The bursting joy of seeing him, and seeing that he looks healthy today
The heaviness of the worry I feel when seeing him and noticing that he isn't feeling okay
The thrill of keeping my feelings a secret, even from the one who understands me most
The unspeakable shock when he catches me staring
The unspeakable coolness of keeping a straight face when he catches me staring
The simple joy of having a conversation with him about everything and nothing
The complicated turmoil of not hearing from him - to call or not to call?
The cheesiness of sitting under the cool, shaded Sun, with the wind blowing, and imagining sweet nothings that will never happen.
The pathetic joy of him wishing me Happy Birthday at the strike of midnight - even when he got the date wrong, that silly man.
The exciting goal of being the first to wish him Happy Birthday, despite how eager it makes me look
The ease with which I make excuses for him.
The exciting promise of having a chance with him, slim though it may be (har, a pun on my weight. Nice one, brain)
The simplicity of it all, years ago.

Song in head: Just be Friends - Megurine Luka

Things I don't ever want to feel again:

I can list them down, but there will always be times when I will feel them again. They never go away - not really. You'll be seeing a lot of them throughout reading my blog anyways, so why bother casting a gloomy shadow over this post of reminiscence?

Song in head: Coming Around Again - Simon Webb

Things I am thankful for:

Everything.

Things I hope for:

Everything good. Period. I may be poetic, but I'm not masochistic. Good things are good =D Not going to wish for bad things to happen just so I can learn from them - they will come in time. Why wish them to come sooner?

It's a new year. Let's try not to look back at the bad times too much, and not to cry over them. They happened, you survived - everybody's been hurt before, and you are never truly alone when it comes to heartbreaks and overblown misunderstandings. You came out stronger, and even if you went down, you went down swinging. It's time to sit back and catch your breath, and give yourself the proverbial pat on the back (unless you're a fan of truly patting your own back with your hand, then by all means, go ahead. I know I've done it more than once myself). You made it.

Now, send a quick prayer up above - time to get your hands dirty again.

My thank yous, I say them silently

In my heart - because that's where I'm most vulnerable to you.

Thank you.

My Kids - take #2

2011-04-19T17:07:00.004+08:00

I'm thoroughly fascinated by the amount of foreign children who go to KUMON. Okay, it actually takes less than the fingers of 4 hands to count down their numbers, but it's still a lot.

Foreign Kid #1 (OMG, I totally forgot to ask for his name)

I was teaching Aiman (the brother of the kid) when I first saw him. He looked nothing like Aiman (and I'd never seen him in the English section) so I sorta ignored him.

Until he opened his mouth.

You know, how I wish I had a voice recorder then.

I was going through the flashcards with Aiman (who scored 35/35 for both sections. *hidung kembang with pride*). Since he did so well, recording his achievement was easy-peasy (I didn't have to count the number of mistakes and blah blah blah). As per usual, kids were hanging around my table. I eagerly ticked off all of the words Aiman had said.

And then I heard a voice with the same colonial accent as Aiman (whom I adore).

"It makes it so much easy, eh?"

Very, very cute accent. I can't talk to Aiman much, since he's still so young and rather shy of strangers. But his brother was eager enough to talk.

Me: Where're you from, actually?

Him: (somewhere I don't quite remember)

Me: Oooh.

Him: But I was born in Scotland though.

Me: *uber excited* Ah! Speak Scottish!

Him: *shakes head, grinning* Can't. I only lived there for three years. Can't even remember it even.

Me: Oooooh.

Him: My dad's an Iraqi, my mum's the one who's Malaysian.

Me: That's so uber cool.

It really is, considering their whole family looks so pretty. BIG eyes.

Foreign kid #2

Her name's Umulkhayr. Actually, almost all her siblings are studying at KUMON, except a sister who is currently sitting for her A-levels.

She was reading her assigned passage, and I corrected a few of her pronunciation mistakes. At THAT moment, I was actually REALLY glad I took linguistics and we've covered Phonetics.

Umul: "And they withdraw--" (what was written was "withdrew", but she said it wrong.

Me: Withdrew.

Umul: What?

Me: It's pronounced "with-drew"

Umul: But it's an "e". I thought words with "e" sound like "a"

And I started explaining to her all about sound and spelling. And how conked English is in relating writing with pronunciation.

Me: So where're you from? *marks her work*

Umul: Somalia.

Me: Wow.

Umul: Yeah. We're not Malaysian. *smiles* Obviously. You? Oh wait, you're - of course you're Malaysian.

Me: Haha. Yeah. Don't I totally look Malaysian?

Umul: Do you travel?

Me: *blinks* Not really. The furthest I've ever been is - pfft, Thailand.

And then Umul starts talking about the places she's been to. Tibet (she lurrrves Tibet), and some other places I don't remember. Only Tibet got stuck in my mind. She doesn't like Thailand though. Haha. Says it's too disorganized. But she loves Singapore and Johore. Quiet and tranquil.

We then talked about schools.

Umul: Do you go to an international school?

Me: ME? No. Just government schools.

It doesn't shock me as much anymore when people ask me that. Apparently my English sounds too English for a Malay.

It was nice talking to her. She grumbled a little about how hard it is for her to look for clothes that fit her. The thing about Umul is that she may be only 13, but she's almost as tall as a full-grown average western man.

Umul: I hate it when the clothes fit me, but they're too short.

Me: *snort* You're in shorty country. We're dwarves compared to you.

Umul: And I'm only thirteen!

She's adorable.

Her elder brother is too. LOL.

...Oh my God. I am totally a paedophile.

Spouting.

2011-04-17T21:09:00.004+08:00

I can't seem to find my Ballroom Dances DVD. Gah.

Just walked over a warm spot on the floor. I suspect that's where my cat has been sleeping for 7 hours. Great. Free heater. Not that we need it considering this hot weather.

Does anyone feel a sense of foreboding/fear/"Oh no, what did I do wrong now?" whenever their parents say "*insert your name*, come down for a moment, will you?" Gah. I totally do. Every time. Even when I am completely innocent, period.

I trawled my friends' profile. Some of them have totally lost weight. Total jealousy. Will work doubly hard to lose weight now.

While I was exercising this morning, one thought went through my head: "...I wonder when I can get my MUET results." I can't believe how eager I was. I mean, I thought that while my body was suffering. MUET's something, alright.

____________________________________

I love love love his genetics.

He is the result of...

This...

...plus this lecherous Sim who impregnated her.

Yayyyy!

A Wretched Undoing

2011-04-17T00:02:00.006+08:00

I totally relate to the song "I Hate This Part" lately, by the PCD. Along with "Sick and Tired" by Anastacia, and "I Don't Need a Man" (if you don't know the singer, well...).

And since I felt the sudden need to grasp on something old and comfy, I went back to the videos that I've watched ages ago.

Nicole looks prettiest at this moment

"Everyday, seven takes of the same old scene,
Seems we're bound by the laws of the same routine."

Sometimes you just can't help the bitterness.

Ashley was carrying this. A portrayal of lost innocence?

"All we do is linger,
Slipping through our fingers,
I don't want to try now,
All that's left's goodbye
to find a way that I can tell you."

Sometimes, I'm just too tired of it all.

The lines here were "I know you'll ask me to hold on,
Carry on like nothing's wrong." Small-ish flower, hold on!

Telling someone to hold on only works for so long.

I wish I could carry on and you'd just fade away.

Because pretty much, I'm sick and tired of always being sick and tired.

Melody's image seems so ethereal (sans the cleavage)

But overall, I dread the words. I wish you'd say them instead, so I wouldn't have to be the next "bad girl" in your memories.

God, give me strength.

My Kids (OMG I totally am NOT a mother but my workplace makes me feel like it so I am talking about it, etc. etc.)

2011-04-16T00:59:00.003+08:00

The kids at my workplace lurrrrrve to hang around my table. My job constitutes assisting the kids (awwh) to read in English. They have to come to me or another English teacher and read for the day.

Apparently, I seem to amuse quite a few of them (and I suspect they enjoy playing around me because I am the only teacher who hasn't grown enough fragments of a backbone to really banish them from my realm - my table, in simple English). And so, my table would be the noisiest. The male teacher would occasionally shoo them, but then, like any hardy child worth their salt, they came back again and again.

Once, since it wasn't so hectic, a group of them sat around me.

Shahrul: Teacher, *yak yak yak about something I don't quite remember*

Me: Hmmm *nods distractedly while marking through some work*

Another kid: Eh, mana adalah! *and yak yak yakk*

Some smart kid: *grabs my extra red pen, and starts to play by clicking it, and unclicking it*

Me: Eh, jangan... *distractedly*

Another smart kid: *grabs another red pen, and creates a cannonball by strategically clicking and unclicking*

Me: Eh!

Another kid: Wahhh... nak buat nak buat!

Me: Eh, dah dah!

Another kid who wasn't even a part of the English class: *walks in* NAK BUAT GAK!

And so, I have a legion of admirers, even including kids who don't study under me.

Hm. Not sure how well I like that.

A Choice of Mentality

2011-04-16T00:13:00.007+08:00

Since my new glasses have thick sides, I occasionally see "things" from the corner of my eye - HAH! Actually, they're caused by the fact that the sides of my glasses are shiny and reflects light, and hence, I see "visions".

Well, that's not really the off-putting point about thick sides - it's the fact that it's hard for me to glance at different sides of the road without turning my head fully (which I, as an inexperienced driver hate to do because I HAVE to look at everything in a glance and I HAVE to speed off at the junction - "What if I GO TOO SLOW AND A CAR BANGS INTO ME FROM MY LEFT?!" etc., etc.) which annoys me.

My dad used to say "...Won't the thick sides obstruct your vision?"

I was - at that time - cleverly successful at avoiding having to drive, hence I answered sweetly, "Nope."

"Oh, okay," said he, giving in.

Meh, I should have listened. When will we children get it inside our thick heads that our parents really HAVE lived longer than us (and naturally know certain things better)?

It takes a while, I suppose. This time, I won't blame it on hormones, and the oft-used reason which is the "We are Teenagers, of course we're like this." Blaming things like that, to me, is like you're saying you accept how horrid you are, simply because you were made to be that way. People sometimes say it like it's a reason that justifies horrible manners and temperamental bickering - like it gives you the okay to act however you feel like. "I'm a teenager. That's what teenagers do."

No, I don't think so. That's what you did. Not "a teenager", but you.

Aaaand, of course, it goes with (OMG, I didn't really want to say this but) PMS. We bite people's head off when we get PMS, and then justify it by thinking "He really had it coming. Doesn't he know he shouldn't mess with people who are PMS-ing?"

We let slip an angry outburst, and once the fire has faded, we pause and think "Well, I was PMS-ing. She should understand."

The truth is, deep inside, people don't. They most probably say "Ah, I see. So, it's that reason." But then, don't you think deep inside their heads, they'd think, "But still...she could've held it in a bit better."...?

"She could've tried."

Trying. Working. That's what we need to do. Blaming your circumstance pretty much leaves you in sinking quicksand - you have nothing solid to grasp on. Just an imagined problem that really can't be fixed.

I believe you're not stuck in this role God put you in. You can work your way out of it. Try your best.

Humans are malleable. We CAN be better. We just choose not to be.

It's our choice of mentality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Off to bed, and off to my MUET test. Salam and God Bless.

To Impose on an Impossibility - Epiphany #242

2011-02-24T21:25:00.004+08:00

From now on, "it's impossible!" really will lessen its effect on my mental dictionary.

_____________________________

A review of the academic year at Nilai of sorts (I'm half-petrified writing this).

(note to readers: this is a highly personal post. What I feel does not in any way mirror that of other students, unless stressed upon)

Lecturers - Part 1

(hands are cold while writing this, but that aside, must push on)

Overview: The lecturers here are awesome. But then again, the word "awesome" really does feel a bit too vague a word to explain what they really are. Hence, shall we go through them one by one?

My first lecturer - Madam Azimah

Taught me: Drama and Linguistics

My first lecturer should have been Madam Adibah, but I had (luckily, to some people, unluckily to some) missed her first class (this will be explained later).

Critically, I think it is alright to say that Madam Azimah is the BEN lecturer with the light of da'wah in her heart. Hers was the first BEN class that had exuded the Islamic essence of knowledge and goodwill - even from the get-go. For a BEN student, I think it is very easy to fall into the trap of learning just English, and not English that is equipped with Islam. In fact, I had rarely thought of English and Islam going side-by-side much, but Madam Azimah really remedied that. My first impression of her was a slight sense of intimidation (during her speech in Taa'ruf Week) and whole lot of awe (which was followed by a gushing stream of thought that went along the lines of "I want her as my lecturer - PLEASE!!!").

When I had checked my schedule, it still had not registered to me that I had her as my Drama ELM 2253 lecturer since I was still a bit clueless. But when I finally got into class, I was shocked, and relieved. Shocked that it really was her (I think that sense of awe aforementioned still had not faded) and relieved because she was a very kind person, even from the first class.

Throughout my first semester, she had guided all of us onto a better path. She really tried to embody the spirit of Islam, and urged us to do the same. She talked to us, and she listened. She rarely - if not never - gives up on her students, and that is absolutely wonderful of her. I still remember (not by word, of course) what she had once said to me at the end of a semester - "Take this as a time for you to grow up. And take this advice as an advice from a sister you never wanted."

Me and my friends laughed at it, but I remember wanting to say "Madam, who could ever not want a sister like you?" Because I did. =)

The Quirky Character - Madam Adibah

Taught me: "Oral Comm." and "Poetry and Prose"

I heard from friends that she had allegedly said very controversial and shocking things during the 1st class. Something along the lines of "I hate humans." Now, being a fan of House (the cynical doctor who swallows down vicodin like people gulp down water), I was not at all shocked by her. I was in fact amused (this is what happens when you expose yourself to too many cynical, jaded characters in real-life and in shows).

She is by far the most colourful character I know.

"You know why this subject is named Oral Comm.? Because we know you people would be scared out of your minds if it were named Public Speaking."

When we are doing an analysis of a poem or a prose, and we would occasionally (oh, alright, ALWAYS) grow silent as Madam Adibah prods us to tell her what we think. She would then sigh when she doesn't get the response she waits for. "You people are so boring. Are you bored? You have a dead look in your eyes."

And when we analyzed a short story called "A Rose for Emily" that had a lot of connection with the Civil War (which I was privy to, but Madam Adibah never looks at me), and half the class looked clueless as to what it is, she pretty much went sarcastic. "Come on. Aren't you guys American-wannabes? Isn't that it? I mean, listening to how you talk, you are American-wannabes. So how can you not know about the Civil War?"

From that, you can pretty much deduce that she dislikes people speaking in an overdone American accent - especially one that is adopted from TV. I have the same sentiments as her as well. I have no idea why, but the excessive rolling of the R is grating to my ears. But then again, I digress.

Madam Adibah is colourful (in clothing too. How does she manage to look to well put together?) and so, we love her, despite her declaration that she hates humans. =)

Madam Shamimah - a kind, kind soul.

I dislike how people make fun of lecturers who "do not fit the bill" of a fun lecturer. She is around to teach you, not amuse you. If you want entertainment, go to an amusement park.

Madam Shamimah taught me Grammar and Basic Methods of Academic Report Writing. Within the two semesters of learning with her, I think I got quite a lot of new information. What she may lack in quirkiness, she makes it up by being the best information-giver for us. She really taught me a lot. And she had tried time and again to keep us upbeat in class. It really worked, most of the time.

I think I can say from the bottom of my heart that I do love Madam Shamimah. She's helped us a lot in our studies, and I'll never forget that, insyaAllah.

Sir Alizaman D. Gamon

Taught me: Understanding Islam

When I first met him, it was because he could not find our class, and we didn't know he was the one teaching our class (he had the old schedule, so it was pretty confusing), but Nadia cleared it up. My first impression was that he was adorable.

And then there was mention of Glocks and M60 and I was in awe. He's not your run-of-the-mill lecturer. I don't know how much I should impart about him, Glocks and M60s, but let's just say that he wasn't talking about how impressive they are without prior knowledge.

When he started teaching, I was again in awe. His style was a bit different than other lecturers. Many lecturers go by the book, as in "Alright, look at page bla bla bla..." but Sir Alizaman pretty much told us NOT to open our books. Take out your test pad instead and start writing. He reffered to books beforehand (he's read plenty, and written plenty of papers on a lot of issues, so he pretty much knows what he's talking about) and began lecturing. He followed the syllabus, but gave us more. I didn't know in the beginning, hence I was a bit worried that we would be in deep trouble. But then he said, "You can refer to your book later. I'm giving you what's not inside the book," which hinted that he's giving us more. He trusts that we will understand what's inside the book, and he wants to give us more. Since then, I looked at it like he was teaching us not for exams. He was teaching us for the sake of Islam. He really wants us to know Islam. To understand Islam - because that's the real objective of the course. And because of that, I hold him in high esteem.

He's also a really kind lecturer. I have to admit, I had trouble submitting my article review. Instead of slamming his hand on the table and putting me on the spot, he had told me he wanted to see me later, when there would not be an audience, and then had asked me what the problem was. He really listened. And after he did, he gave me a chance. I was touched then. He really did want the best for us.

I know in the posts before I had said that we were scared of him. In a way, we were. But that was only because we were made to speak up in class, and bring something original up. But that aside, he has been the most accommodating lecturer I know. He makes us laugh with his comical expressions and he really does do his job well.

When he talks of his life, in certain ways, I feel like emulating him. He's one of the people I look up to in life. I know it sounds childish, but I want to grow up and have his sense of mission in life. He has a goal to achieve, and he's very good at keeping focused. I hope I were to be that way one day.

I've heard from Madam Azimah that Sir Alizaman read my blog. If he ever reads my blog again, I would like him to know that he is a wonderful lecturer, and I did not mean to suggest that we are all petrified of him. Sir, do you remember your students who bought you warm karipap? Would they do that for you if they were scared of you? (it could not have been a bribe because they gave it to him in front of many other students) No. Hence, rest assured. Your students - me included - love you. Uhibbuka fillah =)

To be continued... primarily because I have started sneezing again and I need to recoup from today. Hence, for tomorrow, Insyaaallah, I will resume my post. =)

Salam, all.

/aɪ heɪt juː/ - Teh Yee Ming

2011-02-07T17:37:00.006+08:00

Teh Yee Ming, how dare you leave Malaysia (even if it IS for your education)?

And without telling me, no less. Hmph. What was it - "I haven't heard from you for a long time."? *pouts*

That aside, I don't think I've written a dedication post in quite a while. It's about time I started again, no? (my friend had just looked over my shoulder and scorned my writing. An "English-essay" writing, said she. Hmph. But then, yet again, I digress. Back to the dedication post)

I just went back to my blog dashboard and (after gloating about the sudden increase of the number of followers I had) I went on to search for posts where I've written about dear Teh Yee Ming.

One was in the post Because He Expects It, which was an adorably hormoronic (new word I came up with. Guess what it means) post. And another post was just a draft, but reading it made me laugh. It was an excerpt of our online conversation. We were working on his piece for our school year book. We were Editorial Board members, hence we needed to come up with ideas for the Focus On section - a special section (the name is self-explanatory, I presume).

At that time, it was decided that he would be writing of the evolution our school went through over time, from our 1st principal, to the most recent (a principal not many of us were fond of).

Yee Ming: Ok, this is going to be a very tough question. ... What did Kamariah contribute to the school?

Me: ... (speechless)

Yee Ming: Exactly. Even Erin [our editor] has no idea. But I'll try something. ... Maybe in some disturbing way, she encourages us?

Me: Maybe you should say that she's still spreading her wings and (don't hold your breath) she will doubtlessly bring SBU to dizzying heights (shudder)

Yee Ming: hbadhdfkjfhsbkrfvjkbsdbvjdrfvbfdobjrjbvrjk
Sorry
I smashed my head against the keyboard

Me: I can tell

Yee Ming: Ok, maybe "Pn Kamariah encouraged us to spread our wings and constantly reminds us to achieve and accomplish. Under her guidance, we believe SBU will reach new heights."

Me: ...

Yee Ming: omg, I can't believe I lied

Me: OMG, I KNOW

Yee Ming: I lied in an article

Me: And I helped you.

Yee Ming: I could get arrested
I could go to prison

Me: And I'd have to follow you.
OMG NO.
What about NS?
AND LOSING WEIGHT? THE PROPER WAY?!

Yee Ming: How can we earn the trust back from the student body if we tell such shameless lies??!!!
omg
Erin will lose her job as editor
We'll live on the streets
Shunted by society
Forbidden to write or type for the rest of our lives!!

Me: um, shunned, not shunted. xD

Granted, I think the both of us were worn out like mad.

But this was most probably the most adorable chat I'd ever had with Yee Ming. He's even cuter than Tarrant, even, especially when he takes off his glasses. (Yes, Yee Ming, I concede that you do have wonderful eyes when you take your glasses off. They are even prettier than mine)

He has been around since form three, I think. The tall, gangly boy who likes to tease people who are less endowed in height with his own awe-inspiring vertical growth. He liked to stand beside me, then bend his knees (a lot) just so he could be the same height as me. He'd then gush, "OMG, I can't see anything! How do you live being so short, Hana?"

Jahat kan?

But then, that's my lovely Yee Ming. The tall dude who has been a source of laughs to me in more occasions than one. Believe me, talking to him is no chore. I once kept quiet and let him continue talking for a while. He managed the (one-sided) conversation just fine.

And now he's leaving for Australia. I was shocked, to say the least. But I guess it was about to happen. No wonder I felt the urge to text the dude. Thank God he had not left yet. True, during times as these there is always Facebook to stay connected. But being physically far from my friends still makes my heart miss them no less.

Teh Yee Ming, you had better take care of yourself in Australia! When you get back, I will be a skinny Farhana (who has grown no taller, but has accepted her height as a part of her)... maybe. Haha. So, long, dearest. Enjoy life there.

Asterisk-ed!

2011-02-05T16:49:00.003+08:00

It's finally out! (it was out a few days ago, but only now could I muster the tenacity and grit to post it up in my blog)

Tada!

In black and white, of course. I was so tempted to do it in multi-colour, print one, and keep the multi-coloured to myself, but GAH. That aside, I think I did a pretty okay job at designing. 1st time doing so, and on Paint.net no less. I deserve a pat on the back, I think.

*pats self*

Ahem.

Now, moving on.

The whole newsletter was designed by me. Used a lot of basic brush work, but the tacked notes needed more work, and the metal balls at the back were something I learned from a tutorial. Overall, I finished the designs within 48 hours (of hell) - thanks to a very rushed schedule and ~~people who forgot what what they needed to do and pretended like nothing happened~~ a very hectic academic week. When Ata' (the leader of the team) suggested we make another issue, I nearly wanted to grab a stapler and smack him across the forehead (realistically difficult, but not so when you're pretty much teeming with rage), but then I held it in, and told him "Well, if you want to do a new piece, I need to get the articles on time." I seriously do NOT want to suffer another 48 hours of mental hell, and 720 hours of self-pity. That ship has sunk and I would be damned before I want to unearth the carcass.

But that aside, I'm pretty proud of the articles in the newsletter. At first. But me and Ata' had a word with Sir Alizaman D. Gamon, and somehow, after that, I felt that I needed to do better. Being in Alizaman's class is like being under fire and under siege. If you don't have a critical brain, you might as well shoot your own foot just so an ambulance would come and rescue you from the class (I sound like I'm exaggerating, I know, but some of us are that scared of him). He had taken a look at the newsletter (Asterisks) and asked who the editor was. Me. Then he nodded in approval and started talking of when he had been a part of a newsletter too, when he was in University. They were an active movement, of sorts, that they once even wrote a letter to the president of the university. I was in awe. That was when I took a step back and really analyzed our Asterisks.

Considering that I want to be in the publishing/editing business one day, I think this has been a really good experience, despite the many evenings I had spent with Madam Azimah, trying to work things out. I guess self-reflection is good, but being proud of what you've accomplished is just as important, after all.

It's easier to tear down than to build up.

__________________________________________

Asterisks*, 1st Issue

PDF version: Download!
(right click, Save Link As...)

Please do not claim any part of the articles as your own. If you are going to refer to it in any of your blog posts or your writings, please credit the authors (even if the name of the author is Mr. Social Syndrome). These articles and designs are all the work of students and staff of CFS IIU, Nilai, insyaallah.

More Than Time

2011-01-19T20:58:00.011+08:00

I have no idea why my passion to blog makes a comeback only now, when I'm about 5 weeks to graduating (2 academic weeks, 3 examination weeks). Soon, it'll be bye-bye IIUM Nilai, and helloooo Gombak.

Aen: Kat Gombak nanti aku nak cari boyfriend baru ah.

Lol. Gombak, International Islamic University of Malaysia's main campus is a mating ground of sorts for college students. IIUM even has rooms for married couples to rent. Me and Aen were like "WOW." Especially since those rooms have hot water and oh-so-cool facilities.

Me: We need to plan now. Make sure that we get a husband at the campus.

Believe me, Aen has even started scouting for IIUM students in Gombak. She has her heart set on an Engineering Kuliyyah student. These past few nights have been really focused and serious nights where she stalked blogs and Facebook profiles - it's for our future after all.

But those thoughts aside, I can't help but feel that I'll miss Nilai. It's been my home for close to a year now. Nilai is like my home. We learned to say that in Arabic today. How did it go again?

كأن الجامعتي أسرتي

Awesome.

I'll miss our scary-crazy schedules here, especially term two. 8 subjects in a semester. Heck, on Tuesdays, our class starts at 8, breaks at 1 to 2, then resumes until 7! I can't believe we still got what Madam Shamimah taught during the last two hours. I guess we're freaks (as Madam Adibah so fondly calls us).

In fact, last Tuesday, when I finally escaped the C Block (academic block) at 7.10 p.m., I saw that the street lights had already come on.

Then did it really occur to me that we really do end our classes really late.

Gah.

---------------------------------------------

BEN students' latest addiction:

Transcribing. Heck, in BAW, we passed along "secret" messages using the English IPA symbols.

Refer to above picture.

The second line was a response by Nadia herself. Haha.

Nadia loves Ata'
--> No!

Teeheee.

Madam Azimah once had to say the word shit, but instead, she transcribed it.

/ ʃɪt /

Madam Azimah: Now you can all write in codes. *smiles*

Tarrant wasn't really happy with the new sort of knowledge I gained.

Tarr: So... it's just a glorified way of writing shit.

I know he's just setting up his own little strawman, so I didn't fall for it.

We all know it's really more than that. =)

------------------------------------------

\
Shafawati Shaharizan, you are truly talented. =)

Kudos!

------------------------------------------

On my way to buy lunch (at around 12.30 p.m.), I saw a girl carrying a bag, and walking into a taxi.

SHE. WAS. GOING. HOME.

Wargh! So jealous! I've class tomorrow and Friday, hence I'm stuck here. This week has been hectic (Alhamdulillah my shoes are are already broken in - I almost can't feel my pinky toe), and I was really hoping that tomorrow we would be free (Thaipusam!), but Madam Adibah told us we have to present out Poetry presentations on Thursday.

Mdm Adibah: Unless - of course- if you're celebrating Thaipusam. In which case I would need pictures. *insert typical Madam Adibah laugh*

Anyways, that did not really matter since we had a FIM1113 class for the whole day instead. Hmph.

But all that aside, I know I'm gonna miss all this one day. It takes time, and a little bit more, for that sense of longing to crop up, as is always with life.

Oh, we ungrateful humans.

Madam Adibah: Us humans are always looking out for trouble. It's why my husband married me.

I miss BEN Nilai already.

/aɪ lʌv juː
aɪəl mɪs juː/

Headful of Coconut Trees

2010-12-27T22:22:00.004+08:00

Currently listening to: Love is Ouch - 2NE1

It's the holidays now. Wheeee~

Actually, at first, I was a bit reluctant to go on a midterm break because I know with utmost certainty that I would definitely not finish any of my assignments at home (article review, research fieldwork, poetry presentation on William Wordsworth, article for BENSS Newsletter, Arabic phonetic research for Linguistics - GAH, SO MUCH!) which is definitely what I am doing now.

Am currently at my grandma's house in Penang. Dad set up the internet - WHOOT! I guess I feel kinda bad for making him go to such lengths for me. Usually we just sit around - bored - at Maktok's house. Hence, I showed great reluctance in coming here. And I hate having to pack and having to rush in the morning (no matter how early I wake up to get ready, I always seem to be late). But now, I don't seem to feel so bad - partly because of the internet, and partly because I don't have to clear the table since we had dinner outside. Teehee.

Currently playing: Genie (Japanese Version) - So Nyuh Shi Dae

I'm fine with doing the dishes, but I prefer to leave it in the hands of my sisters since all this time I've been doing the dishes while they lazed away. I know, I know, lazing around is not a good example for my sister, but turnabout is fair-play.

Anyways, I've been thinking of resuming my writing career, since I'll be having a very long holiday after my finals. And I'll be going to the main campus in Gombak within 6 months - WHOOT! Since I'm not taking a short semester (7 weeks), I'll be getting a damn long resting period.

Aim for pre-Gombak hols:

Get back on the road - renew driving skills.
Work at Kumon with Aunt Atie
Brainstorm with Amanda on new, realistic novel (driving skill will come in handy for research purposes)
Attend Arabic classes with Mama (might have to pay for classes with own money?)
Go on a run at least 4 days every week
Hunt down new 2NE1 songs

-TBU-

Hmm, maybe a bit ambitious.

Listening to: Go Away - 2NE1

There's a 80% chance that I'll be doing then what I am doing now - not doing what I've told myself I'd do.

Gahaaa. I've got my head in the clouds - and it's damn hard to be any way else.

Signing out again,
Faranza Syns

Epiphany #23

2010-11-28T22:59:00.002+08:00

Will I ever get to leave Malaysia?

Or be bigger than I am now (not in size)?

I guess when I chose to study English (not TESL), I expected to be in an environment most conducive to internationalization. But I don't feel any bigger - I feel smaller. Like my life is ... dull.

GAH.

Maybe it'll be better in Gombak.

Hoity-fied.

2010-11-28T21:52:00.004+08:00

I admit, I've been a very bad girl.

I haven't been to debate practices. Gah.

My superficial reasons:

Excuse #1: To go to practice, Nilai campus debaters have to board the bus that leaves for the PJ campus at 5 o'clock every Thursday so that we could have the practice at PJ.

...which leads to the next superficial excuse...

Excuse #2: When we finish with our Thursday night practice, we'd have to find a friend in PJ so that we could sleep over in their room (which is needless hassle, I'd say, though it does tighten bonds)

...which irreverently brings the third reason to effect...

Excuse #3: We have to wake up bright and early to board the bus back to the Nilai campus.

...which in turn makes the following occur...

Excuse #4: We'd reach the campus late and as a result, we'd be late for our Friday morning classes.

...and ultimately...

Main excuse: Madam would be pissed and strike us off as tardy. And we get marks cut off for attendance.

Gad.

What's more, it's Arab class I'll be missing. Despite the 8 contact hours that has been set per week (which is a lot of hours to meet your lecturer), I know I wouldn't be able to survive the term with two hours lost each week. I'd get an exam barring letter. GAH.

And so, I didn't go for practices. Haha.

But actually, if you scratch the surface, I guess the real reasons would be that I was petrified when I realised just how high the stakes were. To debate in the IIUM team, be it that it's just the CFS (Centre for Foundation Studies) team, it means a lot. It means guts and grit.

I once had it in me. But then, looking at the level of the debates, I got scared. Petrified. International debates at Macau and what-not - heck, the furthest I've ever been on a plane is Sabah!

But last Thursday, I got dragged to PJ to see the Dean (most people thought it was because I got the Dean's List last term, but it's WAY WORSE...).

Ata': Farhana, you HAVE to go to PJ! The Dean wants to see us (debaters). It's COMPULSORY.

WTFOMGBBQ.

And so, despite the fact that I had a presentation (that I had not prepared for) the next day, I got onto the bus with Nadia (and got bus sick from doing the work on the bus).

When we got there, I didn't recognise ANY of the debaters, except the Nilai debaters. I felt like a fish out of water, like Bambi on ice. Awkward. Guilty.

When we got into the meeting room to meet the Dean (OMGWTFBBQ), I panicked. Before the Dean came in, the Deputy Dean for the Leadership and Training Department (LEADTRAIN) told us to introduce ourselves and tell him our achievements so far in debating (OMGWTFBBQ again).

In my head: Um, sir? Yes, My name's Farhana. My achievement's AWESOME. You know why I say so? I'm the only debater here who has SUCCESSFULLY managed to skip trainings since day one. I mean, seriously, Sir, I am awesome. Everyone's been to at least ONE session. Me? NIL! Awesome, right? I knew you'd say so, sir!

Another senior debater from the Gombak campus who is also named Farhana told us to pretend it was a beauty pageant question. All I heard in my head was "OMG. WTF. BBQ." I was so distraught and strung up that I turned to Kak Mastura (our senior debater in Nilai) and grabbed her arm. "WHY THE HELL DID YOU DRAG ME HERE? I'VE NEVER BEEN TO ONE FRIGGIN TRAINING."

But it turned out that the Dean merely wanted to talk to the leaders of the team. All of us who sat at the outer circle heaved sighs of relief.

But still, my nerves were so shot that even when the Dean stepped out, I couldn't relax.

I told myself, "at least the worst is over."

Hell no. The trainer for the team then turned to us all and said that he wanted to see us all for a short meeting.

Again: "OMG. WTF. BBQ. OMG OMG OMG."

I thought of hiding in the small pond in front of the meeting room, but even that's denied me; I'm not good at holding my breath, and seeing as I'm HUGE, that's never gonna work out (the water would be overflowing. Duh.)

But as it turned out, it wasn't so bad - the meeting, not the idea of hiding in the pond. The trainer thought I was a new debater. Yay!

But I guess this time I'd have to be really dedicated to debating.

I just wanna adjudicate, but it would be fun, I guess, getting a new team. Of course, I still love my old team: Dharr, Sheng Rei, Jasmine, Amanda, Kim, Eugene, Pave and the others. But...maybe a new team's not so bad.

Besides, did I say how hot English debaters are? ;D

Not a Villanelle, nor a Riddle;
Just a Sestina, broken up in the middle.

A Petrarchan Sonnet of sorts.

2010-11-28T16:47:00.004+08:00

Except I'm no Italian and all I have is introductory info on it.

Did you guys know that there are stressed and unstressed syllables in the English words that you use daily? Like the word "republic". If you check an Advanced Learner's dictionary, you'd see the apostrophe-like sign either before or after the syllable "pub" (my old Collin's dictionary puts it after the syllable. My friend's latest edition Cambridge placed the sign before the syllable "pub". No idea why). This apostrophe sign that you is an indication that the the syllable is stressed. It's accented a lot more clearly within the word. Re-pub-lic. If you listen to a native-speaker with that thick-as-molasses accent, you'd hear it ten times clearer. Fascinating, yes?

GAWD, AND I LEARN THIS IN POETRY.

There's a pattern of stressed and unstressed sounds in poetry. The pattern is called a metrical pattern. That's why poets take up to 10 years sometimes to finish a poem. Just to get the right word, the right tone, the right rhyme and sound. To choose the right word with the right stress pattern.

That's when I realized how awesome literature can be. The little thing we've learned in form 4? Pfft, nothing compared to this awesomeness that I've learned in Reading and Analysing: Poetry. Whoot!

Memory Lane's Not Closed at 10.

2010-10-19T02:53:00.003+08:00

I've forgotten just how much I loved words. Not until I read my older posts from days gone by.

Just because you've fallen, it doesn't mean that you're too broken to stand up again.

Just because you've lost, it's no excuse to forget the way you've once roared.

___________________________________________

Finally got to catch Scha (one of my besties at National Service) at FB. It's surprising how much I miss her, and how hurt I felt when she never replied to my wallposts. But I guess she felt ever the more hurt that I never called, texted, or met up with her.

Hence, I've decided that we WILL meet when term is over, or when our holidays somehow collide. Me, Iza Ramos (of Sabah) and Scha Izzati. It'll be like NS all over again, except we'd do it in KL.

These past few days, I've wondered what I could do or post in my blog to bring it to life once again. Because once upon a time, it used to be a happening place where people read my posts, laughed and came back for more. And I was a proud writer who was rarely out of things to discuss. So what happened? What should I do to get that back?

When I reread my older posts, I recognised a pattern in them - they involved people around me. My cousins, my friends, my acquaintances and my family. I wrote about them - their stories.

I suppose I've always liked telling other people's stories. I guess you could call it my story as well. Our lives are all intertwined. And we can't really undo that knot that we've made, we can't unravel that connection that we've fostered.

What I had learned from Usrah, my IIUM unofficial family programme, is that friendships and acquaintaceship - all sorts of relationships - when broken or cut off, hurts. No matter how new it is.

And so, when me and Scha stopped connecting, it hurt. When me and my other friends stopped connecting, it hurts. It began to ball up into a ball of frustration in my gut - like an uneasiness I can't soothe away.

But just now, when Scha and I finally got some time to talk, it sorta faded into the background.

Me: Schaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Scha: sob sob, I'm only gonna be online for a while. I've got a Bio paper tmrw. btw, congrats on making Dean's List!

Me: Thanks! Alaaaa... I miss you lah. =(

Scha: Though you say you miss, it's not like we've ever hung out together at KL, huh? It's like Iza says "korang duduk kehel (KL) pun ndak (tak) pernah jumpa kaa?"

Me: hahahaha. lain masa la cuti. aku dh nk habis cuti, ko plak baru nak start nanti, kan? xD takpe2. habis 2nd term, kita jumpa kalau free. xD

Scha: i'll take that as a promise. kite jumpa 3 ekor sekali.
imy farr..
rindu tgk kau bawak palmolive shower gel pg toilet.
rindu tgk kau sembur febreze kat baju.
rindu tgk kau bukak tutup poket kt baju loreng.
...rindu tgk kau minum air teh kt dewan.
rindu tgk kau main netball.
rindu tgk semangat kau.
rindu sangat.
*dah,dah. nanti terserlah kelesboan aku.
lol!
tc sistaa. ily. aku out dulu tau. buhbyyye. :)

Haha. It's funny how other people remember things about you that you never even remembered about yourself. So hey, it's not harm to walk down memory lane, and maintain that friendship, because inside everyone you know, there's always one itsy-bitsy part of you. You just haven't seen it yet.

Your Two Extremes

2010-10-17T05:49:00.003+08:00

He's gonna kill me.

Reason #1: I didn't get any form of sleep last night despite the fact that I told him I'd be asleep by 2.

Reason #2: Refer to Reason #1.

He gets freaky when I a) sleep late or b) eat late or c) bathe late.

I get pissy when he a) replies late or b) picks up my calls late or c) wakes up late.

If you look at it real close, you'd probably see the major distinction between us two.

Yup. His pet peeves are actually things that are good for me if I avoid.

Mine? ... Well, they're good for him to avoid if he doesn't want me to kill him. So my list is not all that bad either, eh?

Mutilated and Misunderstood.

2010-10-15T16:19:00.002+08:00

I didn't stop blogging because I didn't have time. I didn't stop blogging because there was no WiFi at campus (which I have now obtained, so that excuse is null and void). I did not stop blogging because I lost the feel for it.

Hell, I stopped blogging because my Public Speaking lecturer once asked the whole class, "Who here has a blog?"

A lot of us raised our hands.

She then proceeded to make a bored-slash-annoyed face (which most of us had quickly idealized into the expression of a wondrous eccentric since the first class) and clicked her tongue. "So you are all apart of the self-centred generation, eh? No wonder."

Mind, she studied in the UK and she had insulted the Dean during her interview to become a lecturer but still got the job (to her chagrin since she didn't want it in the end). So, it stands to reason that we all practically revered the very air she breathed.

"I mean, look at you. Bloggers. What more do you do but write about yourselves?"

Granted, she said this months ago, and I'm a little dicey as to the words she really used, but all in all, this was the gist of it.

It felt like lightning struck me.

Hell, no, I thought. She's friggin right. I am self-centred. Heck, all that moaning, and whining, and secret posts with the font set the same colour as the background - that was all drama. All pathetic, all desperate, all attention-hungry drama.

I was so moved by my involuntary epiphany that I sat back for a while and tuned out my lecturer's lecture.

And then, I stopped blogging. Every time I open the main page, log in and reach the dashboard, I find some lame-brained excuse to not write that day. The most common and most effective excuse being that I haven't written in a while, and heck, I'll never be able to write as good as before, so why bother? The excuse gained strength the longer I stayed away from my blog. And here we go, another cycle, not so vicious yet harmful still.

It all went okay I suppose, until lately. I find myself crying more and more as I get ready to sleep. And my poor Hariz has had to bear the brunt of it, being the only one I regularly text - and him being a slow learner at how to not tick me off was a definite contributor to him being threatened by yours truly too.

Until today. Today, this morning was the worst. The suffocation that I felt was nearly driving me insane. Then, I realised... when I stopped blogging, I've lost my channel of catharsis. I couldn't purge my bad feelings as easily as I used to. I couldn't just laugh things off like I normally do. And this... this was bad.

So, here I am, writing again, and discarding my lecturer's words for a later time when I think I don't need my blog anymore. Other people kept diaries, but I have a blog. It's just the way I am, just the way I like it. And I see no reason to stop something I like, as long as it doesn't harm others.

Blog, I missed you so. Being apart from you has been hell.

Or maybe it's because I'm gaining the 10 pounds I'd lost.

But hey, that's a story for a later date.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part IIX

2010-10-07T16:14:00.001+08:00

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

I've gotten sloppy with language. I feel like retiring.

Chapter 7

Drake's roar of frustration rent the air, so alike that of an enraged lion that Danielle was quick to jump off her make-shift bed on the floor, tangled hair standing on end, eyes bleary from disturbed sleep.

"Clark!"

Danielle flinched at Drake's bellow, and closed her ears while her tired eyes tried to adjust to the piercing glare of morning sunlight.

Through the blur shadowing her vision, Danielle saw Drake stalk around the room, going down on his knees to check under beds, then moving towards a closet, pushing aside clothes in a flurry of movement. "Where the friggin' hell is my Chemistry assignment, you--"

Clark, in total contrast, sat on his bed, calmly lacing his black class shoes. "It's in your bag - where you ordered me to put it."

With the final remnants of sleep finally rubbed off her eyes, Danielle took in Clark's smart, sharp-looking uniform. The crisp white shirt had nary a stray crease on it - all clean lines and near-perfect, smooth planes. The dark gray pants had been pressed neatly, and a smartly designed tie of black, gray and silver diagonal stripes with the emblem of the military academy boldly emblazoned in the middle, swung between his opened legs.

"Robin," Sean called out from the other side of the room. "Your tie—” A gray blur swung in an arc above Danielle's head and she watched as Robin snatched it out of the air. Taking a deep breath and sitting still on the pile of jackets the boys had turned into mattress, Danielle took in the general state of the room, somewhat buzzing with activity.

They had all had a late night last night, finishing up some last minute revisions on various subjects that would be tested at school the next day. It turned out that none of them had any visitors and since Sundays were really resting days, they were all bent over their books, ignoring Danielle who merely slept the day through, trying to reserve as much energy as she could to fight the lingering fever. Also, sleeping kept the pain of her throat at bay. Occasionally, Sean or Robin would approach her and ask her if she wanted food or water. Once, when the other boys had gone to the mess hall for lunch, her fever had spiked, and thoughtfully, Sean had cradled her body against his, patiently spoon feeding her isotonic drinks. Then, although very, very uncomfortable (she could tell by the dark slashes of crimson red across his cheeks and the way he gritted his jaw), he had sponged down her body with a cool, wet cloth.

Now, come to think of it, it was very endearing how he really avoided the 'Danger Zones' of her body. When he was done wiping down her arms, her legs up to her knees, her face and her neck, he had dampened the towel himself, then handed it to her. "Here. Do it yourself,” he had muttered. Although very lethargic, Danielle had been thankful for the cooling feel of the wet cloth. And only when Sean had removed her from his embrace did Danielle realise where she had been the whole time.

And it was odd how she had not responded negatively towards it.

Thinking back to yesterday, Danielle pressed her palm against her forehead, testing the amount of heat given off there. Not bad. Sean had sneaked out again last night, and had gotten the results of the throat swab done, and found out that she was clear of strep throat. But just to screw with Drake's head, Sean had pretended like he had not gotten the results yet. It was adorable how Drake had practically begged to go on Sean's behalf.

Danielle smiled to herself as she watched the boys prepare for school. She had only been here two full days, and yet, she felt like she had adored them since forever.

"Hey."

She looked up as Sean sat on the bed beside hers. He smiled, looking extremely smart in his shirt and tie. "Good morning," she croaked, and then closed her mouth in surprise at the sound, embarrassingly aware of her parched throat. Sean laughed low in his chest, and passed her a bottle of mineral water. He watched pleasantly as she twisted the cap then chugged down the water like it was the last droplets ever to be given to her to quench her thirst.

"Good?" he asked. Danielle nodded, smiling, when she was done drinking. "We have classes till four today. It's extended because we have intensive classes for the major exam we're sitting for." Danielle nodded as she absorbed this information. "So... we might not be back for lunch."

"Oh." At the mention of lunch, her stomach gurgled for attention. Danielle pressed her hand against her stomach, as if pressing it would muffle the sound and lessen her embarrassment. Too bad, Sean had already heard it. He stared at her with concern as he got up. He moved to his closet, then opened it wide, he grabbed a few packets of instant everything - soup, noodle, porridge. He then put them down at her legs, practically showering her with food. "Here. If you're hungry, feed on this for a while. I'm gonna have to figure out how to bring you food."

He could always bully one of the junior boys to bring their food over to this room, but Sean really was not up for a bout of ragging. And besides, he did not want anyone dying of hunger. Buying some food at the canteen should be okay. But how to bring the food over to Dee Dee when he most probably needed to be back in class as soon as lunch was over?

Oh well. He was an SUO. He'd figure something out.

He turned back to Dee Dee. "Will you be okay?" He inspected the not-unhealthy flush on her cheeks. She still looked a bit peaked, but none the worse for wear. Thank god her health was turning around. He could not be here for her on the other times if she had been sick. He had classes to attend to, and SUO duties to perform. Again, Sean was astounded by the amount of energy he expended on worrying about Dee Dee's well-being. He shook his head mentally, and pushed the thought aside for a while.

The remnants of his worries were allayed when Danielle smiled up at him. "I have all this," she motioned to his secret stash of emergency food, and Sean could not help but grin. "I'm gonna be a-okay."

It was 2 o'clock. Danielle O'Connor was definitely not “a-okay”. She hated to admit it, but Sean's predictions were coming true - she was feeling slightly restless from being cooped up. The need for fresh air pressed on for dominance in her brain, making her stare yearningly at the windows. Should she open the window, or keep it shut? Was it a hostel rule to keep all the windows closed when at classes? Should she take the risk and crack it just a little? The military people were no doubt very freaky about neatness and discipline. She hated to be the one to get her new friends into trouble. A flashback of how Clark had closed the window as if on automatic this morning helped Danielle make her decision.

No open windows.

The final say given by her logical mind agitated the restless creature prowling inside her head. She really needed to get out. Just for a while. A bit of fresh air, after being so weak for so long. Again, Danielle gazed at the windows with dejected hope in her eyes, the realisation of how much the outside world had become a part of her touching deep into her heart. After being something of a nomad for months on end, having no place to stay was a bitter fact that she had been forced to accept and live with. Little had she known then that it would soon become the only way she knew how to live, the only fact that sat well with her.

Humming to herself in boredom, she moved to the row of study tables lined up against one side of the wall. The way they kept their things neat and tidy somehow felt a bit alien to her. Everything had a place of its own - even the pencils and pens looked like they were grouped together in a complex arrangement that made a disturbing sort of sense.

She moved towards Drake's study table, seeing that it had the highest pile of books stacked on one side. Browsing the titles, she felt a daunting sense of inferiority. The books consisted of serious titles, discussions of serious matters and eye-opening subjects, some of which were slightly political. Despite Drake's general air of lackadaisical whimsy, the books he read were scarily grave.

Robin's table predictably held books of medicine and also a few fictions that Danielle would never have thought to read in a thousand years. On Clark's table, there were mostly revision books with very little evidence of any other sort of books. Danielle smiled at that. So, Clark probably was not much of a reader. Smiling to herself, envisioning how the quiet boy had talked with her last night, as if he knew at that time that she was feeling a little bit neglected what with the other boys really ignoring her in favour of their books. Danielle moved on to the last table - Sean's table.

If the other boys' tables were merely clean, his was extremely spick-and-span. Everything was organised, from the tallest book, to the widest, it all had a system of its own. Danielle was almost scared to breathe around the table for fear that she might misplace or shift something with that breath.

Moving cautiously, she leaned over the table, and scanned the books that were held up together by two bookends. Some of the books were those that she had read years ago, some were titles that looked rather interesting - thrillers and also a few contemporary literature, nothing overtly grotesque or embarrassingly feminine, but eye-catching titles all the same. She grabbed one book, biting her lip like a child who knew she could get caught anytime, but still unable to resist the temptation of the forbidden. She chanted in her heart that she would put the book back at the exact same spot when she was done, as if the silent avowal was a silent promise and assurance that she could channel to Sean.

With keen interest, she turned the book over and read the general description of the story. Fade Away, by Harlan Coben. Again, she gnawed on her lower lip, looking out the window. It was so long since she'd read a book - a long time since she had the time and luxury to. Hugging the book close to her chest, she walked over to the window, leaning against the windowsill as she stared out - staring at the green lawn of the hostel building. It was a bit scary to start reading this book. What if being able to read again became the wonderful addiction it was once upon a time in her past? She would be leaving this place soon. There might be very little chance for her to read again - she would need to find work, and a place to stay.

The question of leaving brought up millions other in her head, more than a few tearing her heart apart; would she be able to continue her studies, would there be people who would hire an unkempt little girl who really had very little market value, how long would she need to work to be able to afford a roof over her head, would she ever be able to retrieve what little respect she had once had in her life, would she ever be able to find a small sense of security ever again...

She shut her eyes and gripped the paperback to her chest, her knuckles turning white from gripping the book so hard. She took a deep breath, as if the air rushing into her lungs would soothe the open wounds in her heart. She held the breath, then released it. It was probably best to let go of the problems too, and not worry about the bridge too much until the moment came when she had to she cross it.

Calming down to a degree, Danielle smiled to herself.

Until her eyes caught sight of something that made her heart freeze.

It was a familiar face, with familiar hair, and familiar features. A face she had seen contorting in pain, twisted with anger and agony. It was her - that woman who had been--

The woman looked up. Both sets of eyes collided.

Danielle pulled away from the window swiftly, her heart hammering a loud staccato beat of fear and anxiety. Did the woman see her? Oh God, if she had seen her...

Swallowing, she gripped onto Sean's book tighter, moving further away from the window, eyeing it like it was about to grow fangs and chomp away at her bones. God, what should she do? The boys would be murdered if the woman had seen her.

Looking around in distress, trying to figure out what to do, Danielle ran her fingers frantically through her short, brown tresses. A million prayers were sent up in her heart, hoping beyond everything that she would not be the death of Sean. She just could not bear the thought of being a disappointment in his eyes. She had only been here a few days - what more damage could she do?

"Hold up, Hayes."

At that call, Sean stopped jarringly in his heated tracks, and spun around to look at the direction of the voice. His eyes scanned the hallway, and landed on Fahran Maiza, immediately recognizing the Echo SUO in the crowd. He raised an eyebrow as Maiza strode towards him, the SUO's walk as proud as it was confident. The other Heroes made way for him, as if he released a powerful wave that shifted them without them realizing it.

Sean stood sideways and waited for the SUO, his books held lazily at his side. "What do you want, Maiza?" he said as soon as the SUO stopped two metres away from him, forcing the two of them raise their voices, letting the stern notes of their vocalizations stand as their show of authority.

"A private word," Maiza nodded his head sideways to the general direction of the common toilet. Sean narrowed his eyes at that, his lips thinning with annoyance. He needed to get back to his room to check up on Dee Dee, and then rush back to the Mess Hall for lunch and limp back to class for some extra classes right after that.

"We can talk fine here," Sean stated, his voice hard and unmoving.

Maiza's stare hardened at that, turning swiftly into a controlled glare. "You really don't want your crap blurted out all over the hallways, Hayes."

Sean's cheek muscles twitched, then he gritted his jaw harder. He sensed Maiza's challenge and hated the bastard for it. Since day one, Maiza had been out to get him. In fact, it was a resentment that ran deep and old. It was an eight-year silent feud between them, and it did not look like their animosity for each other would ever abate.

"Then don't blurt my crap all over the hallways." His tone was cool, calm and scarily controlled. Just like that, he turned on his heels and went on his way, leaving Maiza staring at his back disgustedly.

Maiza turned around and walked away, his mind racing as he focused on what he had been about to tell Hayes. That bastard really wanted his ass screwed, Maiza fumed. This was an important matter, and as much as it pissed Maiza off, he needed to warn Hayes, or that idiot was going to get what he's asking for.

He paused as he recalled the direction of Hayes' hasty retreat. The guy was headed towards the hostel, probably going to grab something in his dorm. Maiza smirked at that. He should intercept the guy in his room. The other SUOs in his dorm probably needed to be warned off, too. Good. Killing two birds with one stone always appealed to him.

Danielle had wound down enough to stop cowering in the hidden corner of the room and instead of that, she sat on Sean's bed, reading his novel as she munched on a packet of biscuits. Crumbs fell on his bedspread, but so entranced was she by the book, everything else ceased to matter as much as the next word in the book - the next twist, the next heart-gripping phrase, the next impossibility overcame.

Her stomach growled a little louder in protest, the biscuit working its way leisurely down at a pace not fast enough to please her stomach. She sat up straighter and patted her stomach. "Chill. I'll get something else to eat soon. You're very noisy," she chided.

The next sound that came to her ear was one that made her jump with joy at one second, and caused chilling dread to trace its way down her spice.

The doorknob rattled. And continued to rattle. Danielle sat in frozen shock as she stared at the doorknob being tried, and she felt the blood drain from her face. People who sleep in a room have keys for the door – and people who have keys do not try the doorknobs...

Loud staccato knocks on the door echoed inside the room, and the sound reverberated within Danielle’s chest.

…neither do people who have keys knock.

“Open up!”

Danielle jumped at the sound, but relief quickly consumed her.

It was Sean. She knew that voice. Smiling giddily with a lightened heart, Danielle got up and chuckled at her silliness, trying to soothe the remaining jitterbugs that hopped around in her stomach. Jumping off the bed, she paused for a while to catch her breath. Then, she moved to the door and twisted the knob open.

Swiftly, Sean hustled her deeper in, closing the door behind him. “Sorry, left my room key in the locker and I had to come back here quick.”

“No, no, that’s ok,” Danielle replied, unable to cease smiling widely. It was not entirely something she was even aware of; hence, it was hard to stop. She watched as he lifted a small gift bag of sorts.

“Yours,” he said.

“Mine?”

“Food.”

She was quick to snatch it away from him. Sean smiled at her reaction, pleased at first. But then, he slid his hands into his pants pockets, when a sudden sense of insecurity crept out from nowhere as he watched her rummage through the bag. Would she like what he got her? Would she eat it? Was it enough? Gauging her reaction was nearly impossible since she had her face almost buried inside the bag. Unnerved at himself for worrying about her reaction, he balled his hands into fists in his pockets. “There are only cans of tuna, and some canned fruits. I’ve bread, so you can eat it with that. The bread should be okay. I bought it last week, but it’s still recently, and it should be okay. And it should be enough, right? And the canned fruits – they might be a bit sweet, but if you put it in plain water it should taste okay. The sugar makes it sweet. The tuna – I’m sorry if it tastes bland, it’s a new product and I wasn’t sure—it was all I could get.”

She looked up from the open bag, seemingly amused. “Canned fruits?”

“It was gift basket—” he began defensively, but stopped when he saw her bite her lower lip, her eyebrows crinkled with emotion, her face giving the message that she was touched.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“It’s no big deal,” he muttered. Silence passed by for a few seconds as he avoided Dee Dee’s eyes. He cleared his throat at the end of it, and moved to the door again. “I guess I’d better get going. Gotta go to the mess hall.”

Dee Dee smiled, her expression softer than before. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” Sean paused at that. The atmosphere felt oddly intimate, and suddenly, it came to him that the way he said it sounded like he was telling her he would pick her up on a date that night. His eyes quickly met hers, and the way hers were wide open showed that it sounded the same to her.

Sean rushed to the door, all awkward movements and jerky motions as he straightened his ever smart-looking uniform. “I’m off.”

“Okay.”

“Bye,” he rushed out, closing the door loudly and quickly when it registered to him that she sounded just as awkward as he did.

See you tonight? What was he – insane? Grunting at himself in disgust, Sean picked up his pace and rushed over to the mess hall before anyone would miss him.

Danielle blinked once, as if to pull herself away from the spell-binding web Sean’s words captured her in. Why did it feel so … warm yet so awkward? She bit her fingernail, then turned to stare at the things she had been given. She smiled. He remembered about her, despite his busy schedule. It was… sweet. To have someone mind about her at all once she was out of sight was a great feeling – a feeling she had not experienced for a long while. She never stuck around long enough for anyone to start caring who she was. All they knew was that she was a runaway, and they left it at that. No one cared if she had eaten or not. But Sean did.

It felt good. Sean made her feel good. It was enough to make her smile wider—

She nearly jumped as the door slammed shut again. She caught her breath, then turned to stare at the door. She grinned gleefully. It was probably Sean again. After that one “tonight” statement, he probably would not feel too good having to talk to her again. Danielle sat on Robin’s bed and shook her head. His awkwardness was endearing and endlessly adorable.

And she would never want to be the one who would cause him any trouble.

That thought brought her worries to the forefront again. The woman who had or had not seen her…would that come back to haunt her one day?

Danielle’s eyes quickly went to the door. At the sight of it unlocked, she lunged at it, and quickly locked it.

Once that was done, she heaved a sigh of relief. She was safe now. Perhaps. But again and again, the image of that woman staring up at her came to her mind’s eye. Somehow, doom and disaster felt like it hovered over her shoulder, and this time, unlike her pain and her sorrows, this was one feeling Danielle could not put away into a little box. It lingered throughout the day, and Danielle felt an ache in her gut, knowing full well that those same piercing eyes that had found her this morning would one day stare at her again as punishment is meted out. And she was not the only one being punished.

That thought ached her the most.

_______________________________________________

Chapter 7 - End

Gah, I need to re-read the whole thing again. I've gotten REALLY sloppy.

What are scratches made of?

2010-07-04T01:33:00.002+08:00

He disappoints me yet again. I wonder how many times he intends to apologize because frankly, that nearly cliched line from "Gone with the Wind" keeps on playing in my head.

Maybe one day, I really won't give a damn.

Sigh. Off to bed. And a long night of nothing.

Awesome-possum!

2010-06-25T20:38:00.005+08:00

I think the impulse that I have to constantly be around awesome people has lessened lately. Because I'm already so awesome! =D

Lol. Masuk bakul angkat sendiri.

I used to feel so attracted to witty, humorous people, wanting to be close to them, to get to know them (and impulsively add them on Facebook. After either challenging them, or joking with them in comment boxes, of course. I'm no cheapo stalker), to drink in the essence of their joie de vivre.

But lately, since I seem to be constantly surrounded by that type of people without me even bothering to look for them, I don't feel the need to trawl profiles on Facebook to feel awesome (whoa, how much more Life-less can you be?).

Kudos go out to Madam Adibah: "I hate humans. I don't even like my husband. Don't worry. He knows it." - her Ta'aruf (introductory) speech for Oral Communications class.

Madam Azimah : "No, sister, BLEEP, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BLEEP AT THE F-WORD PART! Hahahahaha!" - to me as I read the character "Person" for Drama class on the drama Tape. I had forgotten to *BLEEP*, and said out the F-word with much passion instead. Well... I was on a roll. Couldn't stop myself. Haha.

Madam Anisah: the best Human Sciences teacher on earth. I like how she uses touch to make me feel good. ... That sounded wrong, but I meant it in the most platonic way possible. Haha.

BEN Core Course, Group 6: We are the Awesome Possum ;D

______________________________________

Madam Adibah says the funniest things. And sometimes without meaning to.

It was Oral Comm. (Public Speaking), and we were reorganizing the Speech Outline that Madam Adibah had jumbled up as an exercise. The speech was about a jump shot. Something related to basketball. Naturally, since the class has mostly girls, a lot of us got the answers wrong, but what the hey.

Madam Adibah: Alright, let's go through the answers. Oh, does anyone play basketball here?

Azham (Am): *silence*

Class: AMMMM!

Azham: *acts shocked*

Madam Adibah: Oh, so you play basketball, then?

Azham: *nods*

Madam Adibah: Hmmm... no wonder you're so long.

Zaffan: Soooo LONG.

Me: HAHA.

If you didn't get it, you'll never get it. ;)

_______________________________________

She also sometimes veers away from the main subject... and say some funny things without meaning to. Again. We were discussing Architects, blueprints, and how much it costs to just sign a blueprint (RM 5000!) and then somehow, we got to discussing her husband's snoring habits.

Madam: My husband snores. ALL THE TIME. There are people like that, you know. And there are idiots who married them.

Class: HAHAHAHA.

And there's also Zaffan (a girl, by the by) who always sits in front of me, and seems to be the only one besides me who understands the double entendres in Madam's words (ref: the "LONG" conversation above)

A few seconds later...

Madam: I like Sketchers. My husband has to wear Crocs though. He has big feet.

Zaffan: Whoa... BIG FEET *looks at me suggestively*.

Me: HAHAHA.

I love my class. It's just so awesome.

They Mentioned Your Name.

2010-06-20T16:06:00.004+08:00

It never really occurred to me what my family's latent response to me studying English would be. I suppose it was no big deal - something that would not make ripples, much less waves - that I am studying English. Heck, I've been studying English since I was in preschool, so going to college to study English felt almost... normal.

But yesterday, I got the first indication that my family really feels the impact of me doing BEN at IIUM (Bachelor of English).

We were all going out for dinner with my relatives. While everyone was getting ready to drive over to the restaurant, one of my cousins, Abang Arnez, walked over and charmingly reminded dad about where we were all headed to (since his parents are the ones who planned the outing). As he walked away, I admired his profile and smiled. Abang Arnez was such a good guy, you can't help but want to give him a huge bear hug. He was so unlike my other male cousins that even my sister could not help but comment.

Jaz: Abang Arnez is a good example.
Me: Mmmhmm.
Mama: What? (she didn't catch it because my sister mumbled)
Jaz: Eh, no, nothing.
Me: Just say it out loud. Jaz said that Abang Arnez is a good example.
Mama: Yes. He is.
Me: Yes, yes. *nods enthusiastically*
Mama: Very dependent.

It struck me as odd. Being dependent meant that he was dependent on people to survive. That he needed help consistently. Which could not be further from the truth.

Me: You mean, independent?
Mama: No, dependent.
Me: Oh, you mean dependable?

There was a general moment of 'Aha, yes, that's the word' in the car, then Mama laughingly turned and said "I'm the mother. You keep quiet."

Dad then said something along the lines of, "We have a pro in here now."

It clued me in that in their head, I'm most probably very, very good at English, just because I'm doing BEN now. But to be most truthful, I think I'm still the same as before. I do correct people's English occasionally - it's what I've been doing for years. Yet somehow, the knowledge that I am one day going to pursue a degree in English - the fact that I've narrowed down my studies to just learning English - would make people somewhat intimidated, or a bit defensive with me when I correct them. Like I know too much, and I'll find all their faults, and bring them down. A few months back, they would not have put too much weight on my off-hand correcting habits, but now it seems the impact of my correcting people are just increasing two-fold.

I don't want people to be too intimidated by me. It's bad.

And to be really honest, I'm a bit scared that even my family will think that I'm full of myself, when it's the last thing I want to be.

I'm still me, despite BEN.

Because he lives and loves to the fullest.

2010-06-04T16:26:00.003+08:00

LOL. My dad just forwarded me a link to my Uncle's (who's now actually 50 plus) youtube video account.

OMGAH, I rolled on the floor laughing at a short video clip he made of himself and his daughter lip-syncing to "Don't Lie" by the Black-Eyed Peas. The daughter is now only in form one, but the video was taken when she was in standard 4. Lol, in one part of it, it showed them both wiggling their bodies, dancing in the most cute manner to the song.

I can't believe Pak Teh (or some of us occasionally call him Uncle Malik) has time to do all these cute things. There was once he sang "Sway", and sounded a lot like Michael Buble. I was definitely awed.

Pak Teh is in some ways very awesome. But to know that he's already more than 50 years old, I sorta stopped short for a while.

I swear, he has the vitality of a someone much, much younger. I always think of him and my dad as being nearly the same age, but the age gap is actually very big. Of course, my dad is more handsome (ahem), but Pak Teh is still quite a catch (gah, these fair-skinned males. They turn pink when the sun hits).

I heard from mom that Pak Teh once never wanted to come back to Malaysia, wanting to spend his life in Australia, even after he has long finished his studies.

But I'm glad he came back. I would've been one awesome uncle short had he stayed there.

And of course, I'd probably never be able to see those videos coming up. xD

Of the Mushroom Fritters and the 5-year Delusion.

2010-06-04T16:19:00.002+08:00

My first direct close encounter with a male at CFS IIUM:-

Me: *Spots a boy who looks like a BEN-ner*
Him: *sees me spotting him, and tries frantically to avoid eye-contact*
Me: *wants to find out if the boy got an exemption. very determined, approaches, smiles* Eh, awak budak BEN kan?
Him: Um. *stares at me, stares at my Matric Card* Bukan. Saya budak Econs. *stares at my matric card again, reading the details there*
Me: OH. Ya? *smiles beatifically* Sorry! *walks away*

I must've blown a fuse in my mind for not sticking around for a bit and making a male friend. Sigh.

But just for shits and giggles, the next time I see the bewildered boy, I'll wave at him. That should probably make him start thinking that one of us has lost his/her marbles.

_____________________________________________

I got the upper bunk of the double-decker in Room A-1-8 of Mahallah Ummu Salamah (MUSA). The funny thing about the dorm is that all the beds are lined up against the wall, and the fan is placed smack dab in the middle of the room, nowhere near the beds. And OH MY LORD, I think someone raped the ceiling fans till they're lifeless because apparently speed 5 feels like speed 3.

Have I ever mentioned that Nilai is hot? I got blacker just by standing outside in the sunshine.

But despite these trials and tribulations, I've survived (by chickening out and going home every weekend).

The upper bunk is hot as hell at night. What with my bed being so close to the neon-green EXIT sign that flashed eerily at night. After Night 3, I gave up, and dragged my mattress down on the floor, sleeping with Alifah who had also placed her mattress under the merciful cool wind of the fan on the first night. We put our mattresses together and slept peacefully till the Subuh prayers in the morning.

At Night 4, Kinah and Mira dragged down another mattress, and all four of us slept on the 3 combined mattresses.

Is it any wonder that I love the girls with all my heart now?

____________________________________________

Anah, from Kelantan, somehow likes having someone else reply her text messages for her. Or so I'm assuming from her blase attitude towards Dilla's question of "Anah, aku jawabkan, eh?" when her phone flashed with a new message.

And Dilla... omg, Dilla.

She replied the text messages in the Kelantanese dialect at first, getting guidance from Anah.

Next, she went full-throttle Javanese.

Then, it became Mexican (getting much inspiration from the telenovela, Rosalinda).

Laughing our asses off, we then composed a sentence in Hindustani (which translated into "I'm sorry. Do I know you?")

There we all were, cackling like a bunch of loons on the three mattresses on the floor, the sheets untucked at most places, limbs sprawled on top of each other, each of us full from eating Kulat Goreng (our nickname for mushroom fritters) and reading novels.

A few days before, I cried in frustration of not having anyone whom I could relate to.

But yesterday, my heart was so full, it was bursting.

The sixteen of us: Fathimah ("Ada H, ya. Bukan Fatimah, tapi Fathimah."), Awatif (we call her Awat, just for fun), Mira (a BEN-ner like me), Wani (with her checkered pants that she wears everywhere), Rosmah (the gal who always waits up for her friend), Dilla (of the broken phone key-pad persuasion), Anah (the youngest of the lot, and always being teased that she'd take 5 Tahun 5 Bulan to finish a novel), Alifah (the quiet girl with goo-goo eyes and a welcoming smile), Syima (the other quiet girl with the big, big heart), Pija (the adorable Econs girl), Yati (the one who pretended to be me by wearing my Matric Card when she goes out), Ain (the one who compulsively grabbed me to take a picture with me), Mirya (with the hard to pronounce name. And we both love Big Bang. Wheee!), Sakinah (with the incredible humour, and so-awesome warmth), and Mastura (our lovely Sabah-Kedah BAR student).

Singularly, we're pretty quiet, pretty normal. But when combined...

I think I busted my gall bladder.

Is it any wonder why I love 'em to bits?

While we were making lurrrrrve...

2010-05-21T17:52:00.002+08:00

It was weird listening to the main actress for Carolina Moon say "making love" in a scared, anxious statement because how she said it was sort of like "making luuuuve". It seriously spoiled the whole scene.

But that aside, I digress. Tomorrow is the registration day for IIUM. The funny thing is, I haven't even finished packing. I've signed the contracts and agreements and the dastardly declaration form, but I haven't put all my stuff into my bag, nor have I completed the Personal Details Form... and I have to fill up two copies of it. Eeesh.

Seriously, I don't think I'm even mentally prepared for IIUM. I keep thinking "Hey... you have more than 17 hours left - what's the rush?" when really, in stark reality, I really don't have that much time to prepare, if I discount sleep.

Gah, I'm doomed.

*deep breaths*

Wish me luck for BEN, guys. I think I'll need lots of it. Lots, lots of it.

Oh, and as a silver lining of sorts, I think I can now proudly declare myself a legal user of the road. (translation: I finally got my P license. Whoot!)

Reminisce

2010-05-18T11:24:00.006+08:00

When you've been a slacker for more than two months, it's nearly impossible for you to not develop the habit of sleeping in. Heck, you don't have school to rush to (and homework to finish last minute) so why bother? I have to be honest, I've completely forgotten what it feels like to have an early morning shower. The first time I did take one this month (because I had to get ready before 7 a.m. to go for my driving exam) I shook, shivered and basically walked out of the bathroom stiffly with my teeth chattering non-stop - it sounded like bones rattling in a bloody coffin. It was that cold (and the fact that my sisters didn't switch off the air-conditioner really wasn't contributing to my comfort and peace of mind).

Anyways, today, I went to school with my sisters. Hence, again, the early morning shower. Let me tell you something about early morning showers - you go in, get under the shower for a minute (quick! Wet your body, lather on the soap, wash your body, exit!) dry your body, get out of the bathroom, and jump into your clothes. That was my routine for early morning showers this morning. Partially because I had 5 minutes to get ready, and my dad was already starting on the Subuh prayers.

But it's purrrty ("pretty" said in a very blearghy tone) nice knowing that I've not lost my touch at getting ready under 5 minutes. Gad, we were trained to be quick at NS, damn it. The JLs (jurulatih) cheated, I tell you. We had to go for Wirajaya, and the KJL (Ketua Jurulatih) told us that we would be going on the next day, and that day itself was "full-dress rehearsal", to make sure that we could get all the materials and stuff we needed (mess tin, check; backpack, check; ponchos, check).

But it turned out that at around 2 in the afternoon, we were all called to the hall to supposedly listen to a briefing on Wirajaya. Fair enough, we thought, and sat there on the floor, hunched with our sleepy faces (briefings were bohhhhring, but since I'm a goody-goody two shoes, I listened). After the briefing, we were called to get into our groups within our platoons, and the group leader and assistant group leader (me. Hee. I was assistant to the Ketua Wirawati, you know. She was from our company, and she hand-picked me to be her assistant. Wah, bangga) had to go get the stuff that we needed for Wirajaya.

What was suspicious about it all though, was the fact that we were all given a tablet each to be eaten (in case we get malaria and stuff). We all ate it, but went sort "Eh? Wirajaya hari ni ke?"

So, me and Pui Yi (Ketua Wirawati) went to take the stuff for our tent. After we've stuffed everything into our backpacks, and everyone was settled, the KJL got us all to sit down. Then, he said, "Baiklah, sekarang, saya nak kamu balik ke bilik kamu, dan pack barang kamu macam mana kamu nak bawa pergi Wirajaya esok. Sekarang pukul 2.40... saya nak kamu siap pukul 4."

That was when everyone went "Alamak, mati! Wirajaya hari ni, dowh!" Me being a person who doesn't fall for rumours and conjecture, I ignored that, and went back to my dorm. In Pollux (the name of my dorm, It's the name of a giant star, by the way. Bigger than the Sun) however, all the girls were in a frenzy, moving about in a nervous wreck of worry. Everyone believed that Wirajaya was going to be on that day. And suddenly, it clicked. I knew that they were really serious. The staff were bamming us! Saja-saja nak kenakan orang! So, we packed seriously, half rushing off to the bathroom to take a bath, half stuffing as much stuff as they can into the given backpacks. My darling Ketua Wirawati (whom we joked was actually secretly a Wira in disguise due to her very short hair and very tomboy-ish tendencies) even put a can of red beans into our team backpack. It was hilarious. But it wasn't hilarious when they blew the whistle at 3 o'clock.

Heck, we got ready within 20 minutes! We weren't given a chance. So, there we were, in full celoreng, jumping around with our boots half on, half off, our feet clad in worsted grey socks, and "PREEEEEEEEEEEET!" the whistle went.

I think the one sound we all hate (and probably miss till this day) is the sound of the whistle. Morning Physical Training at 5.30, "PREEEEEEEEET PREEET PREEET!"; rollcall (6 times a day), "PREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"; emergency meetings, "PREEEEEEEEEEEEEEET PREEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"; when Pui Yi gets annoyed that we haven't made a move to where we were supposed to go, "PREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-PREEEE-PREEE-PREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! (otherwise translated into "Cepatlah, bodoh. Nanti kena kawad kaki, kau juga yang bising)".

Mahai. (note, the length and degree of annoyance of the sound depends on who blows the whistle, Pui Yi or Qayyum)

And so we rushed to Dewan Wirajaya again, with our stuff in tow.

That was when the bomb was dropped on us.

"Sebenarnya, kamu akan pergi Wirajaya hari ni."

There were a lot of excited faces amidst the pissed-off glares.

"Tapi cikgu bangga yang kamu semua boleh siap dengan begitu cepat. Memang hebat."

Hmmh. Silver tongued, I say.

After giving us a briefing, we were given 10 minutes to do with as we will. To the Muslim candidates, it was either pray, or get your evening snack. It was a tough decision, but I'm proud of those who forwent the meal. We only got to eat about 6 hours after that. Well, it depended on when you're called out to do a mission (navigation, search and rescue, Kembara Duga, etc.)

I was leader for Navigation. =)

Wirajaya is a very big deal. It's when they take us into the forest and they test how we apply what we've learned up to that point. It's the climax of a pretty awesome adventure, or something like that. We were be brought to our "base camp" in the forest, and we set up camp according to platoons and company. Then we guarded our camp from intruders, namely JLs who were given the role of spy, which was a funny scenario, but we pretended it was damn DAMN serious. And that just made it even more fun.

I can't post up any photos since we went into the forest pretty late and by the time the missions were underway, it was already dark. Only Kembara Duga was done in dwindling daylight. Even Cikgu Jach (the acknowledged "pro" photographer) couldn't take any pictures because we were guarding our camps so tightly. If any of the "spies" get into our camp, we're considered inept Wira and Wirawati and our training pointless since the it would be assumed that we have failed Wirajaya, the final exam of sorts.

... Wow... I think that was my longest digression. I was talking about how we were trained to prepare quick and fast at NS and I ended up reminiscing.

But it feels good to reminisce once in a while.

I think it's a bit... weird... and sad that I was the only person at the NS camp who shed merely a tear or two instead of a whole river when it came to the time for us all to part ways. I was the one comforting people and taking things very sensibly. Even the Commandant looked at me with some sort of admiration (he later on texted me asking if I were an elder child and I said yes. He said "patutlah you tak menangis.")

Haha.

I don't like crying over things that I knew I was going to lose. And I don't like acting like we're never going to see each other again. There's always that chance meeting, one day. And even if you do not meet each other again, why cry over it? Instead of regretting the parting, you should rejoice in the meeting. Because we were lucky enough to have met each other, and to have had to share a special bond (heck. 3 months of sleeping together and bathing together counts for something no?). Don't cry and regret the fact that you won't see another person again. It's not like technology died in the wake of you leaving. There's still ways for you to keep in contact.

Move on, but keep in touch. Eventually, in this world, you'll have to part with things and people you think you can't live without. But then, till you do, you'll never know your own strength.

That's what parting is I guess - a test of your inner strength.

Or maybe just a test of how hardhearted you can be when you want to be. =)

________________________________

As I've mentioned before, I went to school this morning. And decided on the new debate team. Before that, I lingered around school and met a lot of teachers (who most went "Wah, dah kurus!") and also bumped into a few prefects and students who knew me ("waaah!", *gasp!* and "hiiii!"). Gaik Xuang's reaction is the best; she looked at me, and then went in her most monotonous voice "hi...". Sigh. So happy to see me till you get lethargic? I wonder. Sheng on the other hand merely looked guilty (itu la dia... skip debate yesterday lagi.)

Didn't do much today except I had three contracts in my bag that needed to be signed by the Principal.

Until I found out that the Principal was not around. *cue: dramatic music (dun dun dunnnnn)*

Then, I re-read the guide to the contract and found out the Principal's Right Hands (as in the Head of Administration, Head of Students' Affairs and Head of Co-Curricular) can sign it too.

So I looked for Pn Rohana. And found out she was not around too. *cue: dramatic music (dun dun dunnnnn)*

Nearly giving up hope, I looked for Pn Ng instead. Alas, I was quite brutally cut off by a very busy Pn Ng (*cue: discordant sound of piano key being smacked*) so I searched for Pn Rozita next.

*cue: heavenly sound*

She finally signed it.

Now, I am free!

By the way, I read the Declaration form inserted in the Admission Form Booklet for IIUM and CFS.

This was very interesting:

"...not to indulge in an form of relationship with the same or the opposite sex as is forbidden by the Shariah (divine law) in and off the campus..."

I told you I can't get a boyfriend in IIUM.

"...This Declaration Form is a very important LEGAL DOCUMENT..."

Yeap. Very serious. I can't break that deal I made. Nope, no boyfriend. My sabbatical is safe.

Wow. That means I really don't have to worry about boyfriends. Ever. For five years. Wow.

.... Awesome.

__________________________________

Mom's bouquet. I wonder who took the picture.

Not a moment for crossing fingers.

2010-05-13T11:18:00.003+08:00

This is the fifth post that I guess might end up as a draft because I can't seem to force myself to finish it.

Hah.

I got an email from someone a few days back. It made me get that "awwwh" sensation all over again. Honestly, I'd thought the said person would not be reading my blog anymore, but instead, this person has tried to read my blog. Yay!

Hence, I've decided to make my blog temporarily public again, but of course, I'll keep the old reader's list.

I think the reason I've seemed to stop blogging is because I feel pressured to finish the next chapter of Hayes, and if I don't, and I post something else instead, it would feel like I've disappointed a lot of people. So, I think it might be a wise idea to shift the WALB novel to another blog. To the 2nd blog that I have. What do you guys think? Should I?

Hell, I'm gonna end up doing it anyways, so what the hell.

Any updates will be posted on FB, and here, I suppose. =)

_____________________________

I think I can handle the "jalanraya" part of my driving now. It really helps that Abang Nizam doesn't snap and wrench the wheel like Abang Man does whenever I drive. He talks calmly, and chides me in a firm, but reasonable tone. Of course, he does get pissed off, but that's only because I keep doing stupid mistakes. But hey, I learn better when you don't bite my head off, so kudos to Abang Nizam for figuring that out.

Abang Nizam is... funny. He, of course, teases me about falling asleep, and he also sings out loud when I drive. Yesterday, he was singing a malay song about "satu pasangan tak cukup, dua simpanan juga tak cukup". Finally, I said to him "Hai, Abang Nizam, bila nak kahwin, oi?"

When I drive, he also turns on the air-conditioner full blast, and my fingers end up being freezing cold, and involuntarily numb. When I complained to him, he adjusted the air-conditioning vent, and it ended up being more focused on my hand. He cackled in amusement when I grumbled about it.

In the car, when he drives me and Lyn to the circuit and back home, he always comes up with funny things to say and mostly, it had a lot to do with old Malay movies, Malay movie stars, Malay music, Malay artistes, so on and so forth. When we talked about it, the only contribution I made to the conversation was me laughing. After a while, I sorta realised that I really have not been brought up to care much about Malaysia. Somehow, I've overlooked whatever happens here, and skipped right ahead to what happens outside.

Not very patriotic of me, I know. But then again...

Oh well.

Speaking of driving, I'm having my driving exams tomorrow. And courtesy of the worry and paranoia, I ended up dreaming all about driving last night. Went comatose at 12, and dreamt all about me in a car. Which is pathetic, really.

Today's my last class before the JPJ test tomorrow. I hope it goes well. I really hope it does.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part VII

2010-04-11T15:20:00.048+08:00

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

The one thing I learned from writing WALB: Roman numerical.

Chapter 6

Danielle massaged her lower arm - around the bandage of her wrist - as she stared at Sean leading the way in the small, narrow tunnel. Her back was starting to ache from bending over as they walked. She had to wonder how she had ever gotten in and out of this tunnel before.

Just hours ago, she had been prowling the area outside of the military camp, stalking in the relative darkness as she sensed the oncoming rain threaten to unfurl into a full-blown storm - or so she believed it to be in her head.

Suppressing a shiver at the remembrance, Danielle paused in her walking.

"You alright?" Sean asked.

Nodding, she pressed on, trying to push aside the lingering fear she felt at being so exposed to the elements. Her breathing became shallow as she felt the fever that she had pushed to the back of her mind start taking over again.

As if sensing Danielle's weakening state, Sean turned and grasped her uninjured hand. "Come on." And they pressed on in silence.

It was by pure, unexpected and shocking chance that she had found this one and the same tunnel a few hours before. The entrance had been hidden amongst bushes and covered by layers of dead leaves and roots. The entrance had also been so narrow, like it had been dug out by some small creature as a burrow. Frustrated and wound up, Danielle had stamped the dirt ground in fury. When the ground shifted, Danielle had paused and went back down on her knees. Working mostly on auto-drive by then, her fingers clawed deep into the earth, and she dug, tearing apart roots and shifting the soil. Little by little, the hole grew bigger and bigger.

When the hole had expended enough to allow her to slither in, she had stepped in gingerly, holding on to the sides of the hole as she tested the with her feet to see how deep the hole is, hoping beyond hope that it was big enough for her to huddle in as she waited for the rain to stop. When her feet had touched solid ground, she was dismayed as she had only gotten in as far as her waist. But holding on to a shred of hope, she had wiggled in some more, and found room for her legs to bend. As she slid into the hole, eyes closed, almost sitting on the dirt, she lost her balance, and rolled down an incline.

That was how she had rolled into the tunnel, bumping her head against the hardened wall. Not really thinking ahead, she had dusted off her jacket, stood up and began walking.

After that, it was all a blur of actions that had been carried out without taking into account possible consequences - hence the twisted wrist and the worsened fever.

And her landing a spot in a military school's hostel - with only boys.

The gravity of the situation struck her at that moment, with her hand in the grip of a boy. She would soon be surrounded by many, many males - and that was an abundance of testosterone.

She looked up ahead at Sean. It was funny, but after spending so much time alone with him, she finally registered in her head that he was a guy at that point. The ramifications of that realization came soon after as well. But as he looked back at her, his face contorted with focus and sheer determination, Danielle felt her fears sit back on its haunches, wary, but not yet ready to attack.

He seemed like a decent enough person - a person who respected a female and knew the limits. He had after all been the one who was so adamant against her staying in his room. She finally saw his logic now. There would be four very male, very virile boys sharing their room with her. It was bound to stir up many, many problems.

Oh boy.

She nearly jumped when Sean used his other hand to uncurl her fingers from around his. She swallowed as she realised just how hard she had gripped his hand but let out a sigh of relief when he did not comment on it. "Wait here. I'll open the trap door, check if everything is secure, then I'll boost you up. Got it?"

Danielle nodded and he did likewise, his firm, almost regal nod an antithesis of her weak, wimpy one.

He reached up above their heads and slid the metal door open to the left. He boosted himself up on a ledge, then peeked his head out. Almost as stealthily, he came back down. "It's safe, but you need to be really quiet."

"Okay," she whispered, but her throat was so dry, she was not sure whether he heard that pathetic sounding croak or not. He positioned himself on her right, his feet braced apart, his knees bent. "Here, step on this with your right foot, hold on to the top and boost yourself up. Use your elbows - and please God, don't grab the ledge with your twisted hand."

Danielle frowned, but did not complain. He was the pro here after all - he could bite her head off all he wanted, she would not say a word edgewise.

She did as he said and struggled to pull her weight up with her elbows. She could feel herself slipping - almost shrieked when it happened - but a push from below steadied her and she found that she was already up to her thighs. She manoeuvred herself up and out.

Only after she was fully out and sitting on solid earth did it dawn on her where the push had been exerted.

Her ... behind. It was probably the wrong time to worry about it, but out of nowhere, her refined up-bringing reared its ugly head and began tinging her cheeks pink.

Sean emerged a few seamless seconds later, crouching beside her with nary a catch in his breath. "You okay? Damn, that fever's acting up again, isn't it?"

"I'll be fine."

"Good girl."

He then grabbed her hand and they were off.

"Where're we?"

"Behind the Chief Instructor's place."

"Is he important?"

It took a while for Sean to answer through gritted teeth. "Basically, if we screw up, he's the one who gets to cut off a chunk of our asses with a carving knife and feed it to the sharks."

No wonder his whole body was tense.

"Why are we going through here, anyways?"

"It's the only spot that's the least guarded around here. Come on," he urged as they stalked through the trees, trying to move as silently and as quickly as they could. Danielle's feet were almost flying off the ground as they crossed the back of the fenceless house, which made the crash even more powerful when Sean stopped abruptly.

Stumbling, Danielle held onto Sean tightly, trying to regain her balance and her wits. "What's going on?" she asked.

Sean was silent, staring with wide eyes and slackened jaw at the Chief Inspector's house.

"What's wr--" Danielle never got to finish her sentence as she saw what Sean was seeing.

It was a horrifying scene to stomach. A man, full-grown and muscled, stood over a woman who was on her back on the bed, her upper-body lifted up and supported by her elbows. From the fast and furious movement of her jaws, Danielle could only deduce that she was angry and was demanding for her own pint of blood. The man roared in response - it was freaky and weird to watch. There was no sound that accompanied the disturbingly turbulent feelings on display.

What happened next made Danielle's stomach churn further, made chills and shivers run a maddening stampede all over her body.

The man tore open the woman's clothes and lunged. Again, no sound. No rustling of the sheets, no snatches of quickened breath, no cries of desperation. But those were all sounds that began to echo in her head.

She saw the man lift a hand, and saw it strike. Saw the woman's head snap sideways. Saw him take off his clothes. Saw hands claw and grip viciously.

Saw more than enough.

Sean turned her around, then began pulling. When Danielle did not budge, but continued staring with wide eyes and choppy breaths, he turned her fully to face him. "Forget all you saw," he commanded with a harsh voice she had never heard him use before.

"How...how could--"

Was that her voice that shook and faltered?

"Listen, Dee Dee. We need to go--"

They both jumped when they heard a muffled thump of flesh against a window. On instincts that were unquestionable, they burst into a run, trying to save their lives, affording themselves a narrow escape.

An escape that Danielle knew would never extend to the catharsis her soul so desperately craved - a chance to maybe, just maybe, allow her to live her life without the haunting shadows stalking her dreams. Visions of what she saw kept coming back to her. With every step she took, her heart shook with a potent mix of fear and outrage.

But at least now her heart was brutally aware of the fact that she was not the only who has suffered through such show of bestiality.

Sean shoved Dee Dee's small body into the then empty room and tried to not slam the door closed.

Before he even had time to catch his breath, she was all over him, fury and fired-up indignation flaming in her eyes. "How could you! That woman was - was ... was being ra--"

He pulled her deeper into the room and dragged her into the bathroom, locking them in. He then turned to her again. "Listen, I need you to forget everything--"

His head snapped back at the vicious slap dealt by her small, seemingly harmless hand. As the sting faded and as his vision cleared, Sean stared down at her small frame, not really taking in the heavy breathing, the tears, the clash of emotions in her eyes. Instead, he saw the hand that shook from the force of the blow she had delivered and he felt anger burst like an inferno in his chest.

"What the hell!" he snapped.

"She was being raped."

"She wasn't," he gritted out, seeing the crushed expression on her face. Unable to accept the fact that someone else was emotionally affected as him - knowing that he could not handle both their emotions for them - he turned away from her, only to be pulled back by a surprisingly strong grip.

"How would you know?" she hissed, moving up and forward on tip toes. "You've never been raped, have you?" she jeered. When her eyes were close, he finally saw the confusion and anguish - the shattering pain and suffocating fury. For one moment, he was still - everything inside and around him seemed to cease moving for a breath, and understanding dawned in him. With that enlightenment, came the expected squeeze in the vicinity of his ribcage.

A thousand questions raced in his mind. How? Why? How could someone like her have gone through something as vile as...

Sean stopped himself from contemplating. All he knew now was that he had to be gentle - as gentle as he could allow himself to be.

"Dee Dee..." he began, trying to reach out for her arms. But as he saw her stiffen and shift backwards, he dropped his hands, trying to not let the frustration gnaw at his composure. "Calm down," he told her.

"You're telling me to calm down when--" she heaved in breath after breath, looking both sick and sickened. Pushing aside the fact that Dee Dee most probably did not want a male touching her, he dropped the cover of the toilet seat and forced her to sit down. He sat on his haunches and stared up at her. "Deep breaths," he whispered, trying to convey as much calmness as he could, hoping she would accept what little strength and equanimity he could offer. "Come on, you can do this," he urged gently.

She began with ragged breaths that soon slowed to deep, forced inhalations. She reached out, and Sean was quick to extend his own hand in offering. She grasped the tips of his fingers with an iron-strong grip, her nails digging into his flesh, but he held steady, looking up into a face of such open naivete, he could not help but grip her own hand tighter.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Her nod was slow in coming, Sean almost expected her to not respond at all. But respond she did, and her tiny, defeated nod sufficed for Sean.

He held onto her hand with a firmer grip as he tried to gather his wits. They should not have seen what they did. It was something that bordered on catastrophic to have accidentally stumbled over that scene. The fact that it seemed like forced intercourse was one thing, but the fact that the woman was not the Chief Instructor's wife was another.

But his hands were tied - Sean cannot say anything. If he did, one thing was that he would be questioned as to how he knew. Second, the Chief Instructor would make his life a living hell. He was going to graduate in two months. Two months was a long time, and it was a long enough to time for the Chief Instructor to bring him down to a level lower than dirt. He was an SUO. The shame would be monumental - he'd never be able to hold his head up anywhere if he had been demoted out of the blue.

Sean rubbed his temple with his free hand in exhaustion. It had been one thing on top of another since three o'clock in the morning. He really did not know what had made life deal him this deck of cards, but it sure sucked to high heaven.

But he had to handle this, before it got worse, or out of hand.

He looked back up at Dee Dee who sat stiff on the toilet seat, her face impassive, but her hand shaking in his grip. She was another problem. Sick as a dog, and in no condition to be wandering around on her own outside of camp - what with the rough weather that's bound to come around. It was mid-August after all. Soon, it would be autumn, and rain would be the least of her concerns.

But she saw something that even Sean wanted to erase from his mind. The gut-churning scene replayed in his head, and he shuddered.

"You have to tell someone."

Sean stared into eyes that were green and clear. "We can't. That was... the Chief Instructor."

The calm, nearly lucid face then contorted again with anger. "Even if he were the bloody Prince of Russia, he should be hanged!"

"You don't get it!" he cut her off. "If he finds out I know, I'm as good as dead."

"He can't kill you--"

"Yes," Sean forced through gritted teeth. "He can."

That seemed to take the winds out of Dee Dee's sails, but she was quick to regain it. "Rape is serious, Sean. How can you just ..." she waved her hand around in a sign of helplessness. "You can't just let it go like that." There was a loud plea in her voice, but Sean closed his heart off from her voice.

"Yes, I can," he said, his voice laced with cold steel. "And so can you." He yanked his hand away, and stalked towards the sink, leaving behind a disillusioned girl in his wake.

Danielle could not stop the shaking of her body as she stared at Sean's broad back. She could just let it go? Danielle did not know what to feel at that point - anger at the boy who had so callously regarded a helpless woman's dire situation as something that could so easily be pushed aside? Sheer disappointment because she had expected something short of a miracle?

Before she could separate and examine the feelings, Sean turned and looked at her. "You know, I'm starting to think it might not be such a hot idea to have you around here."

She inhaled sharply, unexpected pain in the region of her heart making her breath stuck in her chest. "What?"

"Two months is a long time - who knows what could happen within that period of time."

"But..." An alien yet strong feeling of needing to convince someone overtook Danielle, making the words tumble out of her mouth, unchecked and unfettered. "You just need to keep me here for a few days - it won't even be that long!" Danielle leaned back on the toilet seat when she realised how frenzied she sounded - like a desperate woman clinging onto the arm of a lover who was leaving without a backward glance. With a sinking feeling, it came to Danielle that this feeling was something familiar. She had done this once before, and failed.

She had thought the pain of the past had been dulled by time. Alas, time merely made the pain slice like a finely sharpened blade - the sting was unbearable, and it lingered.

Sean hesitated. Feeling the familiar taste of bitterness rise up like bile within her, Danielle looked away. She should not have expected anything. Nothing at all. It was a lesson she should have learned years ago with what used to be her family.

It was apparent Sean did not trust her to be around here and keep a low profile. He probably thought she would somehow slip up, and proceed to make everything blow up in his face. His SUO position was such an important thing for him, and she was just a stranger. What right did she have to demand his trust?

But it still made her feel betrayed.

Pissed off, Danielle forced herself back up onto her feet. "I'll leave tomorrow morning. I'm sorry for being an inconvenience, but I need to stay here until tomorrow morning. After that I'll leave - and your life will be saved." Sean frowned at the jeering note in her voice, but Danielle could not give a damn. "I'm sorry about the money you guys had to fork out for the throat swab - I'll repay you somehow. You probably don't trust me when I say that, either," she laughed at herself.

Sean pushed his hair back frustratedly, feeling his resolve slip and flounder. This SUO spot and graduating with it would be the final frontier for his catharsis. If he graduated with this rank - one of the highest ranks to be held by a hero in the military school - it would prove his mettle to himself, thus banishing the feeling of agitation that seemed to grow more and more restless by day.

He wanted to face his ghosts and come out the victor - the only way was to graduate with a high rank, to leave this place being one of the people whom many looked up to. And Dee Dee was going to ruin. She was bound to blow her cover. No matter how careful they were, someone would eventually find the hidden fuse - and that's when everything would fall apart.

This was too important to him - it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to exorcise his demons.

But listening to Dee Dee's jaded laughter, Sean felt his heart contract painfully. Something inside him did not want to disappoint her - at the price of his own downfall. Oddly, he found a part of him willing that to happen, having no qualms against it at all.

"Dee Dee," he began, his tone grave and low. "This is difficult for me. And this is a military school!' he said, trying to reason with her. "You'll be surrounded by guys - it'll be horrible for someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

Sean held himself back. He didn't entirely know for sure that Dee Dee had gone through what he thought she had, so it was probably best to hold keep that scrap of suspicion to himself for the moment. "You look... refined." With that said, he finally realised that she did look refined. Like someone from a family with old money. Someone who would probably never end up on the streets even if an earthquake shook her home into shambles - there would be plenty who would give up their beds for people like her.

But what bothered him most was how familiar she looked. Those eyes - whose did they look like?

As it came to him that he was deviating from the matter at hand, Sean shook his head and recollected his last words. "You won't feel so good around so many--"

"I've been on the streets for over a year. I'll survive." Again, that jeering tone. Somehow, it didn't suit her.

"No, you don't get it --"

"Are you trying to convince me, or you? Because I said I'm leaving tomorrow morning. If it makes you feel so scared that I'll ruin things for you, just put me under a bed and I swear I'll keep quiet till tomorrow morning."

It was probably best to leave it at that.

But he did not want it to end that way. Despite it all, despite the surety of this turning out to be a disaster, he knew he could not kick her out. He just could not.

Angry at himself for being so weak, he grabbed her arms. "Fine. But I need you to keep this in your head - you must keep quiet. It'll be hell for you here. You won't be able to walk around outside. If you get cabin fever, I'm sorry, I can't do anything for you."

"I won't get cabin fever."

"Not if you're staying in here for 2 months."

It took her a few minutes to get what he was implying. "You want me to stay here for two months?"

He really thought the question was stupid, so he deemed it not worthy of an answer. Besides, answering it would most probably make one of his veins pop, so he shut up.

Doubt clouded Dee Dee's eyes, and despite her less defensive pose, he knew she was still wary. He had after all changed his mind half-way through, just because she saw a crime in progress, and he had told her to keep it quiet when she wanted him to do the right thing.

It was something he could never do. It would jeopardize too much of what he had worked so hard to achieve. It was too important to him - he could not do it.

"You don't have to keep me here for two months," Dee Dee spoke after a while, her voice small and faltering. "I just need a bit of time to get my feet back under me."

Unbeknownst to him as to the reason, Sean felt a deep, ingrained sense of responsibility for her. It was as if now that she was in his care, she was his responsibility until he left school. He felt a need to set her up somewhere and make sure she was fine.

It was definitely a need he was not going to voice. It was weird enough that he was giving in to the softer side of him - but to eagerly take up the responsibility of looking out after a runaway girl?

No, thank you. He would do some intense psychoanalysis on himself some other time.

But in spite of that, he still could not deny the fact that he felt as if something deep within him had made a promise to her, and breaking that promise would be going against the grain of his whole being.

And so, he let her think that she was leaving soon. He'll think of some other way to make sure she stayed safe, although he had no idea why it meant so much to him.

"But you need to tell someone about what ... happened."

He let go of her arms and stepped back. "I can't. I'm sorry. There are times you just have to keep quiet about these things."

He saw the disappointment on her face, but he steeled himself against it.

"I need you to keep quiet about it, too. No telling the other guys. If word gets out about it, it's bound to circle back to us, and there'll be hell to pay."

"But a woman was... raped."

"And we can't do anything about it. I'm sorry. I hate doing this, but we really can't."

Danielle watched as Sean moved to the door leading back to the dorm room. She stared at her hands - one bandaged and the other roughened by a year of scrounging the streets.

It was not a matter of could not but a matter of would not. And it was because her family would not do anything that she had ended up like this.

It was painful to know that it was now her turn to close one eye - and let someone else suffer the same fate she had had to endure, to swallow the same bitter pill that did nothing but destroy whatever faith she had in life.

Vicious cycles were always a bitch.

"So?" Drake snapped as he saw the door crack open.

Sean jumped backwards in surprise, bumping against Dee Dee who followed close behind. He frowned at Drake when that movement caused Dee Dee's head to smack against the doorjamb, hissing painfully at the contact. "You don't have to kill anyone to get information from us, Drake." He grabbed Dee Dee's head and pressed around for the sore spot. "Where? Here?" Dee Dee nodded as he found it, and she grimaced as he proceeded to rub.

"So? Was it strep?"

"Not sure." Sean moved her hair around to look at the scalp, looking for bruises and cuts.

"Not sure?"

"Yeah," Dee Dee said, biting her lip. "I'm fine," she said, grabbing Sean's hand to remove it.

"What do you mean 'not sure'?" Drake's voice rose in displeasure at being ignored.

Annoyed, Sean threw him a sharp look. "The doctor says the results will only be out tomorrow."

"WHAT?"

"So you're staying here?" Robin asked from his study desk, turning in his chair to fully absorb what was going on. Dee Dee looked up at Sean in question, but Sean was already staring ahead at a point on the wall as if bracing himself for a blow.

"Yes," he answered, the one word sounding like a death-sentence on his lips.

"But... doesn't she have strep?" Clark asked.

Dee Dee shook her head slowly. "Doctor says it's most probably tonsillitis. Besides, I don't feel so bad anymore."

At that, Clark got off his bed in an energetic leap and moved to Dee Dee's side. He put his arm over her shoulder. "You should lie down," he led Dee Dee to his bed. Sean frowned at Clark's over-familiarity, noting Dee Dee's wide eyes of surprise.

"Yeah," Sean put in. "Lie down on my bed." He threw a look of silent challenge at Clark as his fellow SUO turned to look at him. The boy of very little words stood still for a few seconds. Then, he said the words that won him the argument -- point-blank.

"I washed your sheets."

Sean's eyes widened at that, and he gaped at his bare bed. That was right - he told them to wash his sheet for him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Clark throw him an 'oh well, too bad' look.

That boy better watch out. Sean stared as Clark guided Dee Dee to the bed at the farthest corner of the room. His glare was intensely fixed on Clark, reading every move like a leopard calculating the moves of its prey.

He only relaxed when Dee Dee shook her head, telling Clark she was fine, and she got into the bed - dragging the sheet over her body, and turning away from Clark. A silly sense of cockiness enfolded Sean at that. It almost felt like Dee Dee had chosen him over Clark. At that line of thought, Sean's eyes widened and he mentally slapped his head. This was stupid. He turned away and cleared his throat, moving towards his desk in an act to put it to rights.

"You guys spent quite some time in the bathroom," Robin commented.

"Just laying down some ground rules about her staying here." Sean kept a bland face when Robin looked like he did not buy that explanation.

"In the bathroom?" Drake asked, his arms folded in front of his chest.

Sean looked over his shoulder and raised a challenging eyebrow at them, his face cool and calm. "Do I look like I care what you think?"

Drake looked over at Robin. "I hate it when he does that 'I'm above you, so move over, you plebe' thing."

Robin shrugged and turned back to his work. "He never does it to me. Probably respects me more than he does you."

"Oi."

"By the way, Sean," Robin called out without looking up from his work. "Maiza from Echo was looking for you again at lunch."

"What did he want?"

"Another fight, most probably," Drake surmised. "He hates your guts."

"I don't see why."

"We don't, either," Drake shrugged.

"That aside," Robin began, finally looking up from whatever he was doing. "Is your mom coming tomorrow? I need some detergent."

Sean paused. That was right. Tomorrow was Visitation day. The thought of his mother coming to see him always put him a little bit on edge. But he was not sure if his mother really was coming tomorrow, or if she would come the next week, so he tried ease the knots in his stomach, telling himself that maybe she won't come this week.

"Oh, and is Sophia coming tomorrow, too?" Drake asked eagerly.

At the mention of that name, Sean smiled. Really, that girl would not let him forget her. She came almost weekly these days (the joys of coming from a rich, and influential family), and when she came, she almost always rendered the guys speechless. She was a whirlwind of energy, and it seemed like Drake really fancied her.

Sean shook his head at that, chuckling to himself. Sophia thought of Drake as an annoying little puppy - she was not sure what to make of him. Hell, Sean was looking forward to watching another episode of 'Sophia Murders Drake Without Really Knowing'.

It could not be, could it?

After all, what were the chances that the person who would be visiting Sean was the one person Danielle missed so dearly after months of separation?

Nearly down to nil, that was how high the chances were.

Danielle closed her eyes again, and told herself it was alright. Sophia Dorwood was not about to see her in this sad state anytime soon.

...Or ever.

That thought brought tears of sadness and regret to her tightly shut eyes, but Danielle dealt with them the same way she dealt with her pain.

She ignored it.

_______________________________________

End of Chapter 6

Author's note: I had to slap myself a few times to get the real feel of a slap. Am I taking this a bit too far? Hell no. It's good experience. =)

The part where Sean was having his inner battle on whether to let Danielle stay was a bit of a funny part for me. I kept on thinking "sepandai-pandai tupai melompat, akhirnya jatuh ke tanah juga." I've been on a mental block for a long time, so idioms don't come to me as quick as they used to. So I sorta winged it, and tried to type non-stop to see what idiom would come to mind off the bat. I wrote down a part of a song instead -

"someone would eventually find the burst pipe, and as fast as they bow down they'll leave you behind." It's from Baby, Be Brave by the The Corrs. Haha. What the hell.

By the way, I wrote this after going through a rough week, so I would really appreciate comments on how bad I've written this chapter - it'll teach me to not be so down on the dumps too long.

Apologies for typos or grammar mistakes. I am only human (and a lazy one at that. I need a BETA reader, la).

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part VI

2010-04-03T12:00:00.000+08:00

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

Chapter 5

A few years back, due to her very refined and rather protected upbringing, she would have cringed inwardly at the crude sound of a curse on someone's lips. But now, after years of disillusionment and shattered security, Danielle barely blinked as Sean -- or at least that was what she thought his name was -- let out a very colourful streak of curses in response to her announcement that he was her brother. That, and also because the cold was getting to her. Body weak and heating up very quickly - it was hard to care about curses in that situation.

"That's so much bullshit, I don't even know how to say it's crap!"

Drake made tutting sounds of admonition at Sean, his face full of mock-disapproval. "Watch your mouth, Hayes."

"But still!" Sean's voice rose, nearing a high falsetto. Realising just how much this was affecting him - and how inevitably it was bound to embarrass him - Sean took a few steps back, away from the girl lying on his - his - bed. God, the audacity she had to lie about him when he had been anything but cruel to her.

Robin dabbed Danielle's forehead with the folded woolen cloth in his hand, wiping beads of sweat off her face. Then, he tossed the cloth into the water-filled container beside the bed and took out a thermometer from his first aid kit. "Open your mouth." When she did, he placed the thermometer in her mouth and patted her chin gently, motioning for her to close her mouth.

Danielle stared up at Robin, wary and thoughtful. Maybe it would've been better to say that this guy was her brother. She could always drag him aside and beg for him to help her - just this once. She would leave once she could figure out how to move on - without being caught in the rain ever again. She shuddered, then Robin removed the thermometer from her lips.

"Damn," he sighed. "Fever."

Despite it not entirely being her fault, Danielle still cringed, feeling as if Robin was blaming her for being such a pain in the ass. Leaning forward, Robin stared at her, his eyes serious. "How long were you in the rain?"

"It wasn't that long," Sean cut in, arms folded over his chest, his face the image of recalcitrance, clearly not appreciating his friends' move at trying to protect his sham sister. "How high is her fever?"

Robin gave a look of disbelief mingled with exasperation. "Pretty high, but not too alarming."

"But she wasn't in the rain long enough--" Sean rushed forth, closer to the bed, looking down at Danielle as if he had caught her red-handed, and he was going to celebrate the victory most eagerly.

"It's not that,"Robin threw a look over his shoulder at the charged-up Sean. He then frowned. "Why do you look so happy your sister's sick?"

"She's not my sister!"

"Still," Drake stopped him with a look of deceptive geniality. "She's sick. How can you look happy?"

Sean glowered at his friend, then at the Danielle. This Dee Dee girl was really pushing it. "Maybe it's God's way of telling her to stop... sinning," he said tightly. At Drake's narrowed eyes, Sean added in a forced smile for good measure.

A sense of trepidation came over Danielle as her eyes collided with Sean's heated ones. Maybe she really should not have said that he was her brother.

But if she took it back now, they'd all toss her out on her ear.

Danielle closed her eyes and looked away from the boys surrounding her, focusing instead on the scratchy feeling in her throat. It had been there for almost two days now - and no matter how much water she forced down, it would not go away. And god, why did she feel so whoozy?

Lately swallowing had been increasingly difficult, so she stopped trying to eat anything all together, not wanting to torture herself anymore.

"What's your name?" Robin asked.

"Dee Dee," Sean answered on a growl. Robin and Drake exchanged pointed looks, then gave Sean a bland stare.

"What now?" Sean looked heaven-ward, waiting for the next conspiracy theory his friends were going to cook up.

"You know her name - stop denying she's your sister," Robin said gruffly.

Danielle opened her eyes and stared at Robin. The obligatory smile he gave her told her that at least he believed that she and Sean were related. A quick glance at Drake who was leaning his shoulder against a wall as he shook his head in Sean's direction assured Danielle that she had at least half the room at her disposal.

They fell for it.

Sean however, looked ready to mutilate a puppy. And the other boy had been sitting quietly since the beginning, Danielle really could not say whose side he was on.

Further thought on those lines were blurred as the feeling of being hot and highly uncomfortable - what with her throat feeling as if it had been stuffed with a spindly ball that were tearing gashing wounds into the walls each time she swallowed - continued to taunt her body and mind.

"Dee dee," Robin called out firmly. "I need you to tell me - have you been sick lately?"

Danielle swallowed the drool that had pooled in her mouth - and her eyes teared up at the pain of the forced movement. "My throat hurts," she whimpered.

At that, Robin's eyes widened. "Open," he pressed him thumb to her chin as his other hand fumbled around inside his first aid box and he took out a small tube. He poised the tube over Danielled's open mouth and pressed a button flashing light into her mouth. "A bit bigger, Dee Dee." Danielle's eyes teared up further, against her will, as she forced her mouth to open wider. The feeling was short, but excruciating - like the walls of her throat were being stretched beyond their limit and just like thin rubber strings, they snap.

"Whoa," Robin said in a cross of awe, shock and slight repulsion.

"What?" Sean leaned forth to look.

Drake and the other boy rushed over, eager as schoolboys, to take a gander at her oral cavity.

"It's so..." Sean began to say, but hesitated, shooting a quick, indecisive look at Danielle's face. It almost seemed as if he was scared to be graphic about it in case she freaked out.

Which just made her stomach cramp worse at the millions of possibilities.

"It's red," Drake stared.

"...and big," the quiet boy added in.

"It's not that bad," Sean added in hastily, as if trying to convince his friends so that they would stop giving her bad visions of horror and death.

Danielle shut her mouth slowly, staring up at Robin with worry. "What's going on?"

"Your tonsils are swollen."

"What does that mean?" Sean asked, before Danielle could get even a word in. "And what're those... white.. thingamajigs..." Sean rubbed the back of his neck, looking like someone was breathing down on it.

The look of queasiness on Sean's face embarrassed Danielle. She looked away, keeping her face impassive as it faced the ceiling. It's funny - a few weeks ago, she would have been fine with people sneering at her, telling her they didn't need a runaway to deal with, telling her without words how repulsive her mere presence was. She was even used to parents pulling their children away from her - when all she wanted to do was talk, or ask for directions.

But now, somehow, being around this group of boys - two of whom had already accepted her - made her feel like she needed to measure up to something. They reminded her of a time when she never had to worry about anything bigger than what was going to be on the pop quiz at school tomorrow morning.

She missed being around people like this - educated, clean, decent people. And it made her vulnerably shy to be sticking out like so much beeswax. To finally be amongst people who reminded her of who she was supposed to be and still make a spectacle of herself made her insides ache and her heart break.

This was not how she planned her life. This was not how she wanted to feel. But then again, since that night a year ago when she had been thrust into the fate that was not supposed to be hers, Danielle rarely felt surprised.

____________________________________

Sean swallowed as he looked at Dee Dee's closed-off face. It was either she was trying to deal with her fever, or his stupid words made her uncomfortable. Damn. Alright, he resented her for lying and putting him on the spot, but Sean recognised a sick person when he saw one, and he was a person who prided in reining-in his alter-ego. There were better times to harangue the girl, just not now.

"Well, it's hard to say. I think I read somewhere that these are the signs of tonsillitis. But it could also be strep throat," Robin offered.

Drake and Clark stepped back at that.

"Do you feel nauseated?" Robin asked.

Dee Dee seemed to think about it for a while. She rubbed her stomach over Sean's comforter. "A little? But it could be just gas." When she finished saying that, she seemed to start, then look away hurriedly, seemingly embarrassed. Sean found it very odd.

As he quizzed over that reaction, Robin queried Dee Dee as to her condition and her discomforts.

Once he was done, Sean moved to Robin's side, standing in front of his friend, his stance impatient. "Well?"

"I can't really say. Her fever's not that high, but she has most of the symptoms. Dysphagia, slight malaise... no red rash yet, though."

"Red rash?" Dee Dee croaked, eyes wide with horror.

"That would be Scarlett fever, another form of strep throat. You get this sandpaper-like rash on your tummy and it might turn bloody." Robin's eagerness at volunteering unwanted information to the obviously distressed Dee Dee annoyed Sean.

"What should we do, then?" he butt in before Robin could get it worse.

"Doctor. Do a throat swab."

Sean looked at Dee Dee and took in her flushed complexion. If he was not wrong, she would most probably be very, very lethargic, judging from the half-lidded eyes and the stillness of her figure.

And most importantly, they could not just waltz out of campus. Oh, he could see it now.

"And who's that you got there, Hayes?"

"Oh, nobody. Just a girl who says she's my sister. She sneaked in - smart huh? Oh well, I'll catch you later, Sir."

Definitely a no-go.

Drake came over, munching on a biscuit. "Look at this way - it's 4.20. Sneak her out."

"Today's Saturday, anyways. Nobody'll miss you," Clark added in slowly.

"And even if they did, they won't question it. You're a busy SUO after all."

Sean absorbed all of this information thoughtfully, rubbing his nicked jaw - then realised something. "Wait - I'm sneaking her out?" he asked, baffled.

"It's an obvious choice," Drake shrugged, tossing his folded underwear into his closet drawer.

"Why the hell is it?"

All three SUOs stared at their friend like he had lost his head. "Dude," Drake began. "You're like her brother - of course you have to bring her."

"Come on - you guys don't really believe that!"

Robin moved his head side to side as if contemplating the answer. "I can't say. You both have brown hair."

"So do you!"

"But I'm partially bald," Robin deadpanned.

"And she looks like she knows you," Drake put in.

"That's just crap."

Drake threw a look at Dee Dee, then relaxed when he saw she had obviously fallen victim to exhaustion, sleeping fitfully. He turned back to Sean, his eyes serious. "Look, she's obviously in some sort of distress, so put whatever you feel aside for now, and just help her, okay?"

Sean's teeth gritted at his friend's logic. One part of him nodded in humble agreement, but the other was miffed at being told what to do. He stared at a spot near Drake's elbow to collect himself.

"Besides," Clark leaned back in his bed, speaking in his usual low tone. "She's a pretty girl."

Drake laughed, turned and patted Clark's shoulder. "That's the spirit!" He looked at Sean. "See? Even he gets it."

Sean cast a glance at Dee Dee's face and took in the face. He frowned when that face reminded him of someone he knew - someone buried deep within the recesses of his mind. It tweaked his memory, but not enough for him to come up with a face, much less a name.

"Here, we're pitching in some money for the test," Robin handed a few notes to Sean.

"Wha--"

"I took it from Drake's wallet."

"Hey!"

Sean snatched the money away before Drake could get it back, and pocketed the money. He sent Drake a look of smug satisfaction. Drake responded with a dirty look. "You'll pay, Hayes."

"I definitely will - thanks for the money to do so."

Drake sneered, then let it go, sinking back into bed. It was Saturday after all.

Reluctantly, Sean moved to his bed and tapped Dee Dee on the shoulder gently. She stirred, and Sean sighed in relief. "Hey, get up. We need to get you to the doctor's."

She seemed rather unwilling to respond, but she moved nonetheless. He removed the covers and draped her arm over his shoulder, offering her as much support as he could, wrapping his arm around her tiny, tiny waist. It struck him that she felt awfully thin and scarily brittle.

"Use the old passage beneath the vines," Clark reminded. Sean nodded.

"If it's strep, get some antibiotics for yourself - it'll help decrease possibility of infection."

Sean nodded as he steered Dee Dee towards the door. "Speaking of infection - clean my sheets for me."

He felt Dee Dee stiffen at his words. God, she wasn't affronted, was she? "I'm just being cautious," he explained, his tone grave.

"I know," she muttered, then fell silent, leaning against his body, letting someone else besides herself support her this time.

At the meantime, Drake was about to get into the opening of his diatribe when Clark put in quietly, "We will."

Satisfied, Sean opened the door to his dorm, and proceeded to that old passage SUOs have been using for years. He never knew why a passage like that existed. He scoffed further at the thought that this sort of thing had happened to one of the SUOs before - it was too romantic a possibility, after all.

As the door clicked shut, Drake, Robin and Clark exchanged looks laden with hidden import. No words were spoken, but a silent pact - a silent agreement - was made in those soundless moments.

Robin cracked his fingers to break the atmosphere. "Well, Clark, since you offered to wash the sheets, you do it."

Clarke shrugged, too lazy to respond in indignation. "What if one of his JUOs look for him?" he asked. Both he and Robin turned to Drake.

"You know how Sean hates having more than one JUO report to him at a time - so if they see that he's not around, they'll be smart enough to assume one of the JUOs are with him. They'll cower in silence. Besides, knowing the Bravo company JUOs, they'd be too stubborn to ask anyone where Hayes is - thinks it makes 'em look stupid or something."

Robin scoffed, then brushed his hands together. "Well, I'll go wash-up -- don't wanna get strep." He threw a glance at Drake who was munching on another pack of biscuits. "Although someone is definitely going to be infected."

Drake paused, mid-chew. "What?" he demanded. "I didn't even touch her!"

"Right. Like I didn't see."

"Well, you touched her too."

"I'm not the one eating biscuits with the unwashed hand."

Another streak of blue curses rent the air as Clark fell back on his bed and laughed.

___________________________________

"There's a high chance this is just tonsillitis," the doctor said. "But if you want, I can do a throat swab and see if it really is strep throat."

Thank god.

Sean nodded from where he stood behind Dee Dee's chair. Dee Dee nodded as well, but at a much less slower speed. The doctor smiled. "There's of course, two types of tests. One takes about twenty-four to forty-eight hours to get the results, but it's highly precise. You'll have to come for the results tomorrow. The other one takes just a while, but the results might be a bit iffy. So which--"

"The long one!" Dee Dee cut in.

The doctor nodded and called for a nurse. Sean stared at Dee Dee's bent head and sighed, reading the apparent guilt in her pose.

Obviously the kid wanted to hang around a little longer.

The thought of having to allow her to stay brought to life many conflicting emotions and opposing arguments in his head. But as the nurse guided a weak-looking Dee Dee out of the room, Sean stared after their retreating figure.

Maybe for just a day?

_______________________________

"Here," Sean handed her a bottle of sports drink, uncapped and fizzling slightly. Dee Dee accepted the bottle quietly and stared into it. Sean watched her closely, then realised her hesitation. He rummaged around in the paper bag in his hand and took out a drinking straw. "Here," he said again, pushing the straw through the head of the bottle, into the sports drink.

Dee Dee cast him a look of gratitude from beneath lowered lids, a small, weak smile curving her lips. Her slightly bent head kept her face shielded from him, but Sean saw nonetheless. He smiled back in acknowledgment.

She sipped from the straw and swallowed slowly, grimacing as the pain pulled at her throat for the thousandth time.

"Can you swallow?" he asked, unable to mask the worry in his voice. Dee Dee nodded quickly, capping the drink again, holding it between her thighs, head still bent. Sean stared at her, and weighed the wisdom of taunting her right now, here, sitting at the bus stop near the hospital. His compassion won out, so he just stared ahead, keeping his mouth sealed shut. Besides, he knew the silence would kill her.

It certainly did.

Within a few seconds, she lifted her head and turned her body to look at him. "Please help me - I have nowhere to go. Not yet. I need to get my head and plan where to go - then I swear I'll leave!"

Elbows on thighs, Sean kept his eyes averted from her beseechingly bright ones. "How old are you?" Unbidden, flashbacks of when they were at the hospital came back to him. The girl filling up the form while hunching all over it, trying to block him from seeing her details. She even covered the columns and boxes with her hand for full effect. When he had grabbed the form to pass it over to the nurse at the reception, Dee Dee had snatched it away, her eyes wide with accusation and fear.

"I'm... eighteen."

Sean was not even sure if she was telling the truth - she could still be a minor.

"You should be at home - running away won't solve anything."

He felt her turn away from him, and like waves of heat, he felt the tension emanating from her. A look from the corner of his eyes told him that she was sitting as stiff as a pole. Bulls-eye. A runaway.

She offered no explanations - both remained quiet. It became a battle of willpower - who could stay silent longer, who could hold themselves back the longest.

Soon, the feeling of uneasiness and awkwardness overcame their prides. Sean sighed, and sat straight again. "What's your real name? We should call and tell your parents you're fine."

"They're better off not knowing."

Sean frowned. "You're right - at this rate, we shouldn't call them at all. Soon, after you die, I'll call them. At least they don't have to suffer over your stupidity for such a long time before they get that final bit of peace when you're dead."

The speech had been made up to cause indignation and hurt in any normal girl. But Dee Dee did not respond in rage - her lips merely tightened. "So be it."

He stared hard at her, trying to fathom what was actually going on beneath that skin, beneath the flesh. She seemed too much like a troubled, angered human being - the hatred and grudge in her seemed to singe her soul red.

"Listen," she bit off. "All I ask, is that you let me stay at your place for a while, until I can plan where to go--"

"Where do you want to go? And besides that, any idea how dangerous it is for a girl to be hiding in a military school? I'm an SUO. I can get sacked for sneaking in a girl like this morning."

"SUO?"

"Senior Under Officer."

"Oh," she breathed. "Are you one of the highest..."

"Yes."

"I see. Well, me being there would be bad, huh?"

Sean looked at her, not understanding the sudden defeat he heard in her voice. She had been vehement about staying, but as soon as she knew he was an SUO, someone very important, she retreated. It was like knowing she was really threatening someone cowed her.

She looked like a girl who had been in the streets for so long, but somehow, she seemed utterly naive at the same time. She was not the ball-breaker she was expected to be.

"Yes," he answered.

His answer made her flinch, but only slightly. He could see a flash of devastation on her face - but then it was gone much too soon.

"Well, bye then."

Her sudden words shocked him. "What? Your stuff are still in my dorm."

"Throw it away. I don't need them anymore. There's nothing inside!" her voice rose to a high note, something between the sound of despair, desperation, and hilarity. Like the fact that there was really nothing of utter importance in the bag she had been carrying around for years was hilarious.

Sean frowned. "I'm not throwing your things away. You're taking them."

"Screw you, dick head."

_______________________________

Frankly, Danielle could not believe she had said it. It was just too hard to hold in. Her anger, the bubbling hate that was burning up her insides - it just would not be contained. She hated the world - hated it for what it had forced her to go through, hated it for the pain and anger she held on to everyday.

She hated her life, and the shambles it had turn out to be.

One day, daddy's little princess lost her crown and was banished to the Netherlands for a mistake that was not entirely her own.

And now, when all she wanted was a safe place to search for the pieces of her life and try to put them back together again, Mr. I'm-Too-Great would not allow her the luxury -- would not offer her a safe haven where she could slow down from her harried pace and try to make sense of her life.

Just like that, he became the enemy. He was with the world - all of them gathered against her.

"What?" he demanded.

"You heard me, you spaz. Screw you!"

"Dee Dee," he said in a low, warning note, but then, Dee Dee was too worked up to give it much credence. The anger inside -- the one she had been suppressing for so long, the one she had told herself time and time again was gone and dealt with -- fought free like compressed steam.

"Go back to your pretty little dorm and throw my things away. Nobody cares!"

"Dee Dee, calm down."

She rose to her feet, the sports drink boucing off the ground, rolling away. "I don't want to calm down! Don't tell me what to do! I hate you - I hate this! Screw you! Screw everyone! No need to call my parents - I don't want them."

At the mention of her parents, hatred overwhelmed her, and she sank back onto the bench, exhausted, but still worked up beyond her capacity as a sick person. Her whole body shook with rage, and her breathing remained shallow - the pain in her throat forgotten in the heat of the moment.

But as the moments passed, as Sean stayed quiet to, allowing her to collect herself, the initial anger faded away, leaving her drained.

Sean waited a few more seconds. "What's your full name, Dee Dee?" he asked, gently. "Give me that, at least."

She shook her head. "You're better off not knowing."

He paused a moment. "Do you want to talk about what... happened?"

For just a second - for just the length of a breath - Danielle wanted to tell all, and damn it all. To finally unload all that was weighing down on her heart and let someone else understand. But there was too much to let go in one breath, and so many dark places to venture. She couldn't.

"When people stop believing in you, that's when you feel like dying - especially when at that moment, you really needed someone." Unable to go on for the feelings were too strong and too potent, Danielle shut her eyes, and willed the tears away. She could not do this. Not now.

She stiffened when she felt an awkward arm curl over her shoulders, pulling her closer for a slight embrace. Danielle forced herself to relax enough to allow the hand to stay - a part of her rebelled at the notion, but another part of her welcomed Sean's awkward try at empathy. That part of her appreciated it - and his awkwardness made it all the more heart-warming.

She felt him shift, pat his shoulder, then remove his arm. "You act like a person who doesn't have fever," he said after a while.

"It's probably the sports drink talking," she croaked weakly.

Both smiled self-deprecatingly at each other and lapsed into silence.

In her head, she accepted the fact that her presence at the school would most probably trouble more than one person. Sean's friends would be pulled in too. She could not bear the fact that she could be so selfish. She might have lost most of things in her life, but she refused to lose what little education and up-bringing she had in her. But despite all that, she could suppress the urgent questions popping up in her head. What now? Where to? How?

"Does..." she began, hesitating. "Does it always rain around here?" she asked, just in case she could not find a place to stay, and ended up sleeping in whatever alley she could find, under whatever tree was nearby.

________________________________

Sean paused to consider his answer. "Not really. Rarely." Sean noted the look of relief on her face, and recalled how she had reacted when the rain poured over her. "Are you scared of the rain?" he asked.

Dee Dee did not answer, but her eyes were wide as golf balls. She stayed silent, as if trying to trick him into thinking she had not heard, then opened a new subject entirely. "Why did you join a military school?"

This time, he pretended he did not hear. His face remained bland, but his lips could not quite resist showing a smile. When he saw Dee Dee frowning, he grinned. "You didn't answer my question - I'm not answering yours."

For the first time, a real, show-your-teeth smile bloomed over her face. "That's playing dirty!"

"No. That's playing fair," he said matter-of-factly, somehow unable to stop smiling.

Dee Dee nodded, then looked at her hands thoughtfully. "I'm... I just hate being in the rain. The last time I stayed in the rain, I fell awfully sick. It was horrid and I..." She stopped there, not knowing how to convey her fear. Just the thought of rain brought back the memories of the unceasing shivers, the cold, the gut-churning sensation before she began splaying her innards on the tarred street. "I just don't like it."

Sean saw more than what her words revealed. This girl was homeless, and lost. It was clear what she wanted was just somewhere safe to stay for a while. Maybe bringing her back won't be so bad? After all, he was graduating in two months. He would be stepping down soon. And nobody checks the SUO's dormitories - it was a quietly acknowledge fact for everyone that SUO's were superior and they never broke the rules. To make sure that other students accepted the fact that the SUO's are the authority, teachers limit their ragging on the SUO's. Hence, no spot-checks. All he had to do was hide her for a while and make sure she stayed quiet during his classes.

That decided, the stood. "Well, let's go back."

"Bye," she said, sullenly.

Sean smiled. "I'm bringing you back, dolt," he teased.

Her head snapped up. "Just throw my stuff away."

He gave her a droll look. He grabbed the sports drink that he had put aside. Then, he grabbed her arm. "Let's go. It's nearly lunch-hour. We need to get in before everyone gets back to their dorms."

"What?" she blinked, eyes wide. "You're taking me back?"

"Yes," he said. And hoped to God he was not making a huge mistake.

____________________________

"You never answered my question."

Sean looked away from the window of the bus and looked at Dee Dee. "What question?"

"Why'd you enter a military school?"

He stared ahead, at the seat in front of him, thinking of an answer. He chose one that allowed him to be as honest as he could be without revealing too much. "I find it hard to trust people."

Preditably, Dee Dee blinked in question. "How does military school cure that?"

"Not really. I just have to face my ghosts, that's all."

"Who are they? Your ghosts?"

He smiled at her, as if just the smile could appease her curiosity, then turned to his window again.

"Well, whatever or whoever your ghost is, you clearly haven't laid it to rest, much less faced it."

"Why do you say that?"

"You don't talk about it."

Sean twisted his body to look at her, and caught the serious look on her face.

Indeed.

.END OF CHAPTER 5.

Author's note: Actually, I was going to reveal more about Sean, but since we've focused so much on him for so long, I think we should shift the attention to "Dee Dee". Okay, three guesses as to what happened prior to her running away from home! Haha. This chapter was done in a regrettably slapdash manner. Feedback is REALLY appreciated. By the way, do you still think Sean should be with Sophia? Hmm?

I forgot about you the moment I got on that plane.

2010-03-30T08:43:00.009+08:00

Yesterday was a horror-cum-awesome string of events that still make me laugh, cringe, shake my head in baffled wonderment, and ~~smile idiotically~~ smile with self-deprecation.

It began with 2 o'clock in the morning when I went to bed. Which would explain why I -- ~~stupidly~~ unwisely -- fell asleep in my instructor's car on the way to the 6-hour driving workshop.

A silly mistake that will cost me a whole life of disturbed peace.

Abg Nizam: Kau ni, kerja tidur aje. Semalam aku call kau, kau buat apa?
Me: ... Tidur.
Abg Nizam: HA. Tadi masa kau tidur dalam kereta tu, takut Abg Nizam nak gerakkan gear - ya lah kan, takut nanti terjaga, siapalah nak buatkan susu?

Har-har. Oh very funny. I admit, my knee was probably wedged against the gear-stick, but it's not my fault I sleep wantonly. He put on soft rock on the radio! How was I supposed to hold on to my sanity and maintain consciousness at the same time! Nobody has that much willpower to overcome something I would like to call aggressive-full-throttle provocation. And what with the air-conditioner on at full blast - how could I ever NOT fall asleep?

Abg Nizam: Masa kau balik dengan Abg Man tu, kau tidur juga ke?
Me: Tidur.
Abg Nizam: KAU TIDUR? Eh, kepala kau tak terlentok kat bahu dia ke?
Me: Mana ada! Masa tidur tu, saya pusing ke kiri lah.
Abg Nizam: Itu namanya membelakangi guru!
Me: =_=''

Must say, he craps the most amongst us all. Lyn and Mumtaz, the two girls who went to the place with me were victims of his teasings as well, but nobody gets it more than me.

Me: Kenapa saya? Kenapa saya sahaja yang jadi mangsa? *drammatically, puts hands against heart.*
Abg Nizam: *grins wolfishly*

My sleeping in the car became an upstanding joke amongst the four of us there. More like them ganging up against me.

Right before we were going to leave (Lyn, Mumtaz and I were rather restless for having to spend an extra three hours going around doing nothing, waiting for 4.30 p.m. to roll around), we all had to scan our thumbs for prints so that we could get our L as soon as possible. Mumtaz grabbed a form since she wanted to change the address that would be on her L license because the one on her IC was her old house. After we were done, Abg Nizam made us wait for him by the car. Mumtaz brought her form along. Me and Lyn bought our drinks then three of us waited by the car, me drinking (I can barely type 'sucking my tea through a straw') my tea as I played around with the kittens there.

Abang Nizam came by.

Mumtaz: Borang ni nak isi bila?
Abg Nizam: *deadpan* ...Sekarang la. Kau nak isi bila lagi?
Mumtaz: La! Kenapa tak bagitau awal-awal?
Abg Nizam: Eh, budak ni. Aku kasi satu kang, patah hidung.

So Mumtaz began filling up the form. She has some trouble with the Bandar and Negeri section. She wrote Kuala Lumpur for Bandar and guess what she wrote for Negeri?

Malaysia.

When I saw the form, I stared at it with wide eyes, my drinking straw between my lips.

Abg Nizam: Ish, kau ni, Mumtaz! Tengok Farhana tu. Sengsara dia - dia nak tidur!
Me: ... *deadpan*
Abg Nizam: Sabar eh, Farhana. Kejap aje lagi. Tak pe, tak pe, masuk kereta dulu. Nanti Abg Nizam bukakan air-cond.
Me: =_=''

Meanie.

But despite it all, he's pretty fun to be around. He likes photography. We spent the whole time going back with him pointing out stuff that I should take pictures of on the highway with me happily snapping away.

The coup de grace would be a picture of Lyn and Mumtaz at the back seat sleeping (they forced me to sit in front). Serves them right. Hah!

Hohohoho.
Cruel me.

It was a joint effort between me and Abg Nizam. I Bluetoothed the picture to him.

They'd probably kill me, but so what?

_______________________________________

I went out with Amanda the other day. It was a four-hour, strenuous, back-breaking hike around the most trecherous, dangerous areas of all Malaysia.

Yeah, we went to Times Square and Sungei Wang.

Amanda: This proves that male mannequins are anatomically correct - it's just small, that's all.

It was the first thing that caught my eye. It fit, so I bought it. With much persuasion from Amanda. Gad, it was Kitschen top, and it was pricey!

I'm gonna have to cut on ... everything. Oh, the agony.

Mama: Oh, that's nice. How much was it?

Me: Oh, 30 plus.

Hell yeah, it's above thirty. I just omitted the fact that the difference between the price of the top and RM 30 is huge.

__________________________________

I never knew Italian sounds so awesome.

Here's to my new friend - Fra from Italy. Hee. Hugs and kisses!

Yatta!

2010-03-27T13:30:00.001+08:00

It says it all.

If I made the headlines tomorrow, no one would notice.

2010-03-27T01:09:00.000+08:00

IMVU's back, baybe.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part V

2010-03-23T21:43:00.023+08:00

When The Autumn Leaves Blush
Faranza Syns

Tadaa! It's the time you've waited for! Chapter 4 is (finally, after many broken promises) out! I've made a few changes to the storyline, so to those of you whom I've leaked the storyline to before I went to NS, sorry. I changed it. Hope it's not too bad. By the by, if there are any typos, please ignore. I'll get back to it after my online test on Saturday. This time, it's for Hariz (who has helped me a lot on shaving), Amanda, Kye Li, Alia Ilani, my Dharrling, Afzy and also my ghost readers. Drop a comment, will you? I need feedback. ;D

Sleeping positions in this post was (I'm proud to say) stolen from Ju Yee's album of Geo Cosmo Wiras sleeping in their dorm. Call it a breach of privacy, but it was funny. Now, on with the show!

Chapter 4

Sean groaned in muffled agony as his muscles protested violently against his sudden move to sit up. Ignoring the tearing pain in his limbs, Sean pushed himself up on suffering arms, anchoring his weight as best as he could. Looking to his left, and then his right, Sean frowned in puzzlement.

Everyone was in bed.

Well, that was the normal part of it. The odd part was... no one was snoring. Shaking his head, Sean sighed.

Blessed peace.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, he grimaced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and let his feet touch the cold, tiled floor. He forced himself onto his tingling toes - standing straight and tall, he stretched his sore muscles, trying to wring the stiffness from his shoulders, arms, legs and back.

Holy hell. It never got easier. With a grim smile, he thought of how hopeful he'd been for the physical torture to let up. He had always thought that one day he would be at the top of his game, and no amount of violent physical grilling he received would ever wind him even a little.

Boy, was he wrong.

Sean took a look at the plastic clock that hung on the wall and scanned his dorm room again. All of his roommates were fast asleep. One was - they would kill him if they knew he thought of this word and them in the same sentence - adorably curled into a ball, one hand with curled fingers placed near his cheek, like a - again, they would kill him if they knew he'd used this word - baby. One looked like he was performing the bicycle kick in his sleep, live, frozen mid-kick on the bed. Another had his legs splayed wide apart, facing the ceiling with something that looked suspiciously like a bunch of underwear crumpled together and hugged tight against a strong, muscled chest.

Should he take a picture of this very interesting situation? An evil grin spread over Sean's face. Most of the time, they all leapt out of bed at the same moment having all had nearly the same programming for their internal clocks. But today was a bit different for Sean - and hell, he had no idea why.

With that thought he shrugged and struggled to move towards the clothes rack where towels had been hung haphazardly. He had been in this academy for a year now. And god help him, it was not the same as before. Not the same as the horror many years ago. Thinking back to the years of bitterness, hate and sheer helplessness made his shoulders tense. His hand reached down to touch the jagged scar on his thigh, the glower on his chiseled face intense and burning. Inhaling deeply, he opened the door to the shower stall, trying to ease the knot in his chest as he exhaled.

Things were different. He'd faced his fears, and now he would become the victor of the war waged within himself.

He stepped into the shower stall and locked the door. As the chilly spray of water hit his face, he gasped and cursed. Maybe he should not have bathed at such an unholy hour of the morning. If nothing interesting happened soon, he swore he'd take a picture of those guys in their undies and post it up somewhere embarrassing.

Dirt and sand stirred above the ground as boot-clad feet moved agilely, supporting a lithe female body as it jumped from a big, noisy truck. "Thank you, sir!" the female called out above the agitated whirring of the truck. Fixing the position of her rucksack strap on her shoulder with one hand, she waved vigorously with the other.

The driver of the truck was less jovial in his goodbyes. "You..." he pointed a finger at her. "You're a lady," he reminded her gravely. "So you watch out, you hear?"

Laughing, the girl waved away the trucker's worries. "I will." She smiled affectionately up at the man who had been her companion for more than a few nights. "You take care too, y'hear?" she piped.

The elder man finally broke into a smile, and tipped the bill of his cap at her. "Bye," he waved.

And as the truck roared away, the brave, devil-may-care smile on the girl's lips slipped away and disappeared. Tense fingers gripped the shoulder strap of her rucksack as she turned to survey her surroundings. Where the hell was she?

There really was not much around her. There were trees and the bushes with flowers abloom, but there was definitely no traffic, no public phones and the only building around the area was a military school. Where was she?

Nowhere.

Eyes widening at the thought, she stood still to absorb it all. Nowhere. She was in the middle of nowhere. She waited for the feel of pure joy and release to enfold her being - waiting for a sense of relief and acceptance to cloak the increasing sadness that had quietly become a staid compadre of hers as the months passed.

She looked up to the sky, trying to look beyond the mosaic of leaves above her towards the limitless stretch of pre-dawn grey. It was not supposed to turn out this way - things were supposed to be better. Was a year not long enough?

Apparently not.

Anger twisted its tawny fingernails deeper into her soul, ravaging the already torn part of her further. Seething, she tried to push it away, and turned on her heels, taking in fully what was around her, quickly calculating her chances of survival - the mean temperature, the colour of the sky, humidity of the wind.

Thunder rumbled as stormy clouds rolled and roiled above her head. Dammit. She had not noticed the clouds when she'd stopped her beloved trucker and said she would get off there - saying she had a brother to visit at the military school.

A brother to visit at the military school.

Her eyes swiveled towards the low gates of the brick-and-stone building. An impatient clap of thunder made her look up in panic at the skies. Days where she had fallen sick from being so wet, dirty and muddy had taken their toll on her mental endurance of this condition. If there was one thing she used to love but had grown to hate, it was getting wet.

No way was she going to endure being so sick she'd spew her guts out.

There was no other way around it - the only true shelter she had against the rain was the military school.

She squared her shoulders and tipped her chin up. She was prepared for stealthy infiltration.

Sean brushed his hands back and forth over the top of his head and surveyed his image in the mirror. Frowning, he ran his hand over his jaw and neck, feeling the fine bristles prickling his fingers. Shaving time. He turned the tap and let warm water gush out of the spout. He patted the water onto his face, warming his face up, readying the skin for a good bout of shaving.

As he lathered shaving cream on his face, he heard a suspiciously muffled thump - like a sound... that came from outside-

Acting on barely leashed instincts, he swung around in a powerful arc and slid open the window near his sink. His eyes focused and alert, he scanned the perimeters for any freshman stupid enough to go moonlighting at three o'clock in the morning - way past curfew hours. The earliest anyone could roam the grounds would be around five in the morning, even for a senior maven. Sean pursed his lips at that. Senior Mavens were the hardest to rein in these days - knowing that they were about to graduate seemed to make them think that they could step all over their platoon leaders. Senior Heroes were a lot more lucid as they have not yet specialised in any field - in other words, they were not popular for any sort of achievement in school; academically or athletically. It was as if being a Senior Maven made them think they actually had a rank in the school's hierarchy.

They were dead wrong.

Still wary, pulling away from the window was hard for Sean. As the Senior Under Officer of the Bravo Company, the last news he wanted to hear from any of his Junior Under Officers was that one of their company had been caught being an ass - not now. Not when they were so close to graduation and the final 'Reckoning' Awards ceremony.

From the corner of his eyes, he kept a clear view of the window although at his angle, he would not be able to see what was happening below. Living on the second floor had its perks - but sometimes he wished they had a bottom dorm. Him and the other SUOs.

Picking up his razor, he began shaving, forcing himself to look away from the window to focus on the task at hand. Being paranoid helped nobody shave, that was for sure. As he cleared away the whiskers on his face, he began shaving the underside of his chin.

A loud bang and the eerie sound of something sliding against wet glass jarred the steady movements of his hand and it resulted in a quick cut to the skin of his jawbone. He cursed and tossed the razor into the sink, running to the window. If he did not see anything again, just like before, there must really be something wrong with his brain.

And there, on the ground directly beneath the window, he saw a body writhing in pain, clutching an arm. The body looked fully clothed, but the clothes looked drab and old - the person also had something of a shaggy, long-haired cut.

Sean groaned. Not another smart-ass freshman thinking he could become Superman for the night and leave campus by power jumping off the ledge dressed as a homeless.

He grabbed a piece of paper tissue and pressed it against his bleeding skin. He rushed to his bed and put on a sweater and a pair of pants. Fuming at the fact that he - once again - had to save the ass of an ungrateful newbie, Sean raced down the stairs and out into the open. Cold droplets of rain touched his skin and he sighed at his luck. No use whining about it now. The poor kid probably broke his arm from the fall.

The lump near the dorms had stopped writhing when Sean approached it, but he could clearly see how raggedly the kid was breathing - possibly trying to keep in the cries of pain. The kid lay reposed on grass, as if accepting the defeat that had been dished out to him. Thank god. Sean was not prepared to accept the news that he might have to chase the newbie down at three in the morning.

He raised his hand to shield his face as he felt - and heard - the rain turn slightly fierce. What amazed him was that the body on the ground tensed - then began shifting at a very high speed. Hands were brushing away dirt and what puzzlingly seemed like rain-water from body, face, arms and legs. It almost seemed like the kid was scared of rain-water - well, he sounded like he was.

But that sound... that squeaky sound of panic... was it not a bit too high for a male? Sean squinted, then moved closer, until he was just a few inches from the figure.

And he saw the face.

"What the hell," he breathed. What he saw was... Unable to believe his eyes, he crouched in front of the person - no longer sure what to call it - and grabbed the person's shoulders in a vise-like grip. He squeezed hard until the person stopped squirming, and he got a good gander at the person's features. "Holy mother..."

The person shook in his grip, eyes glassy and face streaked with debris and water - a face that was decidedly feminine.

Sean inhaled sharply. The body continued to shake, but the eyes focused on Sean's face, wide and wary.

"Who are you?"

Danielle could feel the cold envelope her from all sides, reaching deep into her bones, running its long, cold, prickly fingers along every vein, injecting a system-jarring chill into her bloodstream. The droplets of rain that hit her face felt like they were hails of ice, piercing her skin, further chilling her. They suffocated her - made her feel like she was being hit with the full-force of a thunderstorm.

"Dee... dee," gritted out between chattering teeth.

"Deedee? Deedee, what are you doing around here?"

She gripped the sweater of the guy who was currently holding her upright. She knew it was his strength she was depending on because somehow the rain had sapped her of hers. "Please," she begged in short, choppy breaths. "Get me out of this rain."

The guy looked up at the clouds above them. "It's just a little rain - it won't be too heavy yet. Listen, Deedee, I need you to tell me--"

A loud crash of thunder shook her insides. She whimpered as she felt her hands begin to freeze up. She moved closer to the guy, practically throwing herself into his arms. What little warmth he had, she absorbed in an almost greedy manner. Her hands were shaking, her body felt awfully cold... and her head... felt more than a little light...

"Deedee? God, you can't do this to me."

Danielle did not give a damn. In fact, she did not think she could even speak - her tongue felt too weak. It was happening again. In a few seconds, her body would be burning up - and then the next thing that would happen is her splayed across the floor as an aftermath of a violent bout of vomiting.

"Holy crap," the guy cursed.

"Please," Danielle breathed out on an agonised sob.

The last thing she could register in her memory was the feel of a pair of arms gathering her against a warm chest. She leaned against the chest - relief washed over her in tender waves - and then, everything else blanked out. Blessedly.

Drake frowned as the fog of sleep in his head thinned out and consciousness began poking at his brain. He groaned, then scratched his chest - only to be hampered by a thin layer of underwear that covered that area. His frown intensified when he saw the bundle of underwear on his chest. Must have slept without putting them away.

Holy damn, did anyone see --

Quick as a flash, he spun and crouched on his bed, scattering his underwear as he scanned the room. Right. Robin was in bed, Clark was in bed, and Sean was in bed too. Drake let out a quick huff of air in relief. He gave himself a self-deprecating chuckle, then began collecting his underwear. Then, from the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of something that made his blood freeze.

Was that Sean sitting at the study table? So... who was the one on the bed?

"Fuck, I'm seeing double." Drake pressed the heel of his hands against his closed eyes, really thinking he was insane. "It's a dream, I'm sure."

"You're talking to yourself, dude."

"You think?" Drake asked heatedly, removing his hands from his eyes. "I'm seeing two of you, you prick! Of course I'd be talking to myself!" he pointed vehemently at Sean's bed.

"Wow," Sean said. "I thought you were the brains amongst the SUOs. That's not me on the bed."

"How can it not be - Who is it, then?"

As a look of gravity shadowed Sean's face, Drake grew alarmed. "See for yourself."

Clad only in boxers, Drake bounced off his bed, then approached Sean's bed. He leaned over the bed and stared. And stared. And stared.

Clearly unnerved by Drake's unmoving stupor, Sean swiveled his chair around and faced him. "So?" he asked impatiently.

Drake leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "She's pretty."

"What?" Sean burst.

The two boys in bed murmured in protest and shifted, pulling covers and pillows over their heads.

"Well," Drake said matter-of-factly, "underneath that dirt she is pretty."

Sean tensed. "She's a girl."

"Obviously." Drake looked at him like he was an idiot. "We haven't been secluded from them that long, you know."

Coiled like a tight spring, Sean sprung up off his chair and began pacing. "Let me see if I get you straight. There's a girl in the SUOs dorm, where no females should venture, and all you can say is she's pretty?"

"Where'd you find her?"

"She tried to climb up the building into one of the rooms is my guess. She fell. I think she sprained her wrist."

Drake moved to other side of the bed to see the girl's hand in an ice-compression. "We should wake Robin up - he's a medic maven."

"No, don't wake him up!" Sean stilled Drake's move. "He'd freak and tell everyone a girl came to the dorm -"

"Bull," Drake moved, fluidly avoiding Sean's big frame, and moving towards one of the boys. He grabbed Sean's towel and whipped it across Robin's bottom.

"I'm up," Robin shot up in bed drowsily. "I swear I am. Yes, I'll do the laundry. Yes, the grass, too..." Robin leaned to his side, then slowly, began to move into the sleeping position again until Drake smacked him behind the head.

"Up, Robin."

Robin cursed, then got off his bed. "Geez. Whiner."

"There's a girl here."

"What?" and Robin's eyes seemed to immediately latch onto the girl on the bed.

It always amazed Drake and the others how Robin could easily shift gears from Sleep to Battle in just a split second. It was like he never actually went to sleep at all. He moved to the side where the girl's hand was in a compression. "Good job, guys. Now we just need to get her up and--"

"She has fever," Sean put in.

Drake's eyebrows rose. "She has a fever and she climbed up our building, fell, sprained her wrist--"

"She just got the fever." Sean looked uncertainly at the girl. "It was raining and all," he muttered.

"Was it that heavy?" Robin asked as he rummaged through the opened first aid kit.

"Not really. That's why I don't understand why she got the fever in the first place." Sean paused, crossing his arm over his chest. "It was like... she was scared of the rain."

The boys were silent as Robin moved around and pressed a wet cloth to the girl's forehead. He took another cloth and wiped away the dirt on the girl's face. "Who's she, by the way?"

Sean raised both hands. "I have no idea. I don't know her."

"That's mean of you."

All three pairs of eyes swiveled towards the girl currently lying down on the bed. Her eyes were glassy, but they were open and aware. Robin moved to sit on the side of the bed, one leg folded and placed partially on the bed. "What do you mean?"

The girl's eyes held on to Sean's for a long seconds. "How could you say that?"

"What?" he asked, then looking defensively at his friends, he shrugged his shoulders.

"That's very mean of you."

"I don't get--"

"How could you say you don't know your own sister?"

Both Drake and Robin's eyes immediately sought out Sean, staring at him with wide eyes that narrowed into accusative gazes. Sean froze at what he heard - disbelief making him utterly speechless. It was too stupefying a moment to ruin with words. Sean backed away at the increasingly fierce glares of his fellow SUOs.

Then, his restraint broke when he saw the supposed-to-be-asleep Clark glaring at him as well from his bed, joining in the group mutiny heartily.

Sean sputtered. "Bullshit!"

-end of Chapter 4 -

God, when I started, I couldn't stop.

Is it better, is it worse?

2010-03-23T19:05:00.002+08:00

I am - inadvertently - suffering from writer's block. Chapter 4 of Sean Hayes' story is most probably never going to come out unless I break this wall between me, my fingers, my brain and my muse.

A few days ago, I'd promised myself that I won't post any new posts until I'd finished the 4th chapter of Hayes' story. But thus far, I've only gotten till 'Sean groaned in muffled agony as his muscles--'

Yup, practically nowhere.

But it does whet the appetite, does it not? Giving you just a sentence - I could get used to this. Alas, I must continue writing now. Suddenly, after speaking of this writer's block I am suffering, the walls feel rather shaky. I think I see my muse through the cracks on the walls. He's shouting, "My love, stop dallying! Hurry - help me with this stupid wall!"

And who am I to refuse what my lover wants of me?

Wall, begone. I have had enough of you.

Promise: I will get that chapter done tonight even if hell freezes over. (Just a figure of speech.)

Through painted windows, I smile.

2010-03-20T17:21:00.008+08:00

Lately, I've been taking pictures of a most interesting subject. A subject so diverting, so riveting, it leaves me staring in awe most of the time.

I take pictures of me.

Well, mostly it's me staring out the window of my (dad's) car.

Talk about being full of oneself.

________________________________

I know it's definitely not wrong to say that many SBU-ians have held on with bated breath to see the completion of this place.

Ring any bells? Duh, of course.

Remember when we used to plan: let's meet up after school and go to 1Shamelin one day after school!

Except the place did not show signs of being complete by the time we'd graduate. So, ever the hopeful, some of us who live nearby continue to plan: let's walk to the mall one day and spend one whole day window shopping! It'll be great fun!

Silly us.

This doesn't look all too complete to me.

Scratch the plan, kids. You're not gonna be hanging out at a mall anytime soon.

What was the expected date of completion? From January 2008, to August 2009, to God-Knows-When. Seriously, it's aggravating to wait for the day when the mall would finally be fully-constructed. It's starting to feel like Mission Dammit-It'll-Never-Be-Possible.

I need to go read a book.

_________________________________

Two red cars parked together. An oddity. I love my dad for choosing red. We're so special.

You're so cheesy, you make me smile as I wake up.

2010-03-19T18:57:00.006+08:00

Today, I did the one thing I never thought I would do. Okay, I'll cut the melodramatics - I knew I was going to do it, but it didn't feel real enough until I actually went to the place, sat in the chair and signed the receipt.

Hell, I'm taking driving lessons. Have I ever mentioned how paranoid I get when I'm behind the wheel - okay, when I'm imagining myself behind the wheel? What if I'd stopped too soon? What if I'd stopped too long? What if I'd taken the corner too soon? What if I day-dreamed and forgot where I was headed - lost? What if the friggin brake won't work? What if someone put a bomb beneath - okay, I think you get the gist of this, right?

I mean, how would you know when to do what you're supposed to do?

Okay, I suppose I should have a "deep breath" moment.

Shane: That's odd. You're never paranoid.

Correction: I've always been paranoid. It's just that Kimberly Hong's gargantuan paranoia overshadows my small squeak of worry. It swallows mine up (not to mention that she's very vocal about her fears - vocal and loud) and makes it seem like whatever I was about to worry over never existed after all.

But yes, I am paranoid at times. Ask Amanda. The things I worry about are so laughable, it's annoying.

So, it's understandable that I have a fear of being responsible of a metal-made machine of huge proportions (granted, it's just a Kancil, but people have died in Kancils, okay?) with the power to squish a cat into goo. I don't even want to hold a wheel, for God's sake, if it means someone will die from it.

But then again, I'll be going to classes. And the teacher (Abang Man?) is an alumnus of UIA, a place I'm planning to go to. Abang Zul (the other teacher) is also an alumnus. A blessing in disguise? So far, I've only spoken to Abang Zul, and he's pretty sweet and sporting, more than willing to share and talk of his time at UIA, telling me about how horrid orientation is (dead tired, he said, and then they'd start testing your Arab, which I suck at, by the way) and how he used to be in the same room as a Russian and an African. It was fun in a way.

A blessing in disguise? Maybe it's too soon to tell. But I'll put the paranoia to rest - it's tiring to keep up.

_________________________________

Aja's driving herself up the wall with boredom. Someone save her, please.

Kidding.

It's only for someone special.

Eventual Paradoxical Embolism.

2010-03-18T17:43:00.005+08:00

It serves me right (or in classic - if not very offensive - Malay: memang padan muka aku) that applications for the JPA PILN Scholarships have closed. ON MY BIRTHDAY. AND I HAD NO IDEA.

This is what's going on in my head:

"Haaa... tu la. Be a lazy ass and procrastinate everything. Padan muka."

"Oh, dad's gonna beat my ass blue all through Monday."

"No more scholarships? Oh what the friggin hell am I gonna do?"

"FCUK."

But hey, let's not be dramatic about this, huh? It's only the matter of our future, right?

Hell, no. So there I was, screwing myself senseless (you blue-heads had better not snicker at that), convincing myself quite convincingly that I "sucked" (again, please do not snicker), when Wei Jie butt in to save the day.

Thank you, dear, for reminding me to keep a level head and giving me a hand on those scholarships. You rock!

But as I chatted with him, I came to realise something.

Me: I might have to depend on IPTAs

CWJ: IPTA?

Me: Local U.

CWJ: Hmm. Where is it located?

I had a "..." moment right then until it came to me that he thought IPTA is a local university. IPTA (for the benefit of people who also do not know the meaning) is Institusi Pengajian Tinggi Awam. As I explained this to Wei Jie, I thought of all SBU students - present and past - and had a =_='' moment when I imagine most of them not knowing what IPTA means. Possibly because as the years progress, many of us turn to IPTS, not giving even an ounce of attention to Pn. Song's adroit announcements on IPTA Edu Fairs.

"IPTA? Whazat?"

Granted, some people just forget the meaning, hence they can be forgiven. But the others really don't know - and it's amusing to think of it.

The memory of IPTA is currently battling its ass off to stay alive in the hearts of SBU students.

We really don't care that much about IPTA, it seems. Until after the dreaded slip comes out.

Him: So what'd you get?

Her: 8A, 2B.

Him: Ah, doomed. I guess it's Matriculation for us.

Her: I guess.

Him: Ah, damn, IPTA, here we come.

Her: Is that a university? Where is it? Near HELP?

Him: ...

UIAM, here I come.

When I look to my sides.

2010-03-16T18:30:00.003+08:00

I think I said 'no' in the most delicate, considerate terms.

I think he's rejecting the 'no' in the most mule-headed terms.

Or maybe he's really taking my suggestion to "be friends" into serious account.

Him: Kita message malam ni eh?

Seriously.

After saying no, I think I felt happy for a while. Until that phone call. Sigh.

Because I'm too wimpy to say no.

2010-03-16T16:50:00.004+08:00

I never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever [I think you get the drift] expected this to happen.

In fact, I deduced that it would only happen after the shedding of 20 more pounds and the gaining of tonnes of personality. But indeed, I was mistaken.

Someone has popped the question.

For someone who has never ever generated much male interest, this is a big friggin' deal, okay?

Granted, the way he asked was ... very unromantic. On Facebook, goddamnit.

Him: So... sekarang boleh ke?

Me: Hmm? Nak message sekarang?

Him: Tak, tak. Nak couple sekarang boleh ke?

Me:... [I took ten minutes to reply this question] I fikir dulu boleh tak?

Him: Ok. Tapi jangan lama-lama sangat tau.

What the feck.

We (supposedly) "met" at NS. It was a short, sweet, and highly uneventful meeting.

Him: Hi [smiles]

Me: [stares at him, turns and walks away]

It was during our last day there - we were gonna leave the next day. That night, we were going to have Malam Citra Puisi where the companies compete by staging the best performance based on Malaysian literature. So, during the evening, we were doing full-dress rehearsals. After my company (Bravo/ Rentap) had finished our rehearsals, I went off-stage to sign some shirts at a table. Near the table was a sofa, and he was sitting there. He turned to say hi. I stared at him, eyebrows raised, then I looked away, putting him out of my mind.

Really, I am a cold, cruel, heartless woman. I know that. No need to flatter me.

But anyways, all that aside, I think I already have my answer.

Wish me luck.

How can I not love you guys?

Come-back is too strong a word.

2010-03-15T19:02:00.005+08:00

Tadaaa!

I am now officially ending my self-imposed hiatus.

-The end of another I'll-never-follow-through declarations-

My new phone:

Nokia 7230 Graphite

I love my dad despite the fact that I had to pay for the phone myself. It's really fun shopping with him, actually. Me and Ma like making fun with him.

If nothing else, I think NS made me realise how much I love my parents - flaws and all.

Mackerel Skies

2010-03-14T20:23:00.000+08:00

I ... actually

... really can't believe it.

Cutting through the clouds.

2010-03-11T09:17:00.001+08:00

And I am back from NS.

Boo yah!

NS, you rock my socks off.

KBBR 4ever, baby.

Suffice.

2010-01-01T18:15:00.002+08:00

Must say, J'aimerais Tellement by Jena Lee (who is deceptively French) is like a haven for people who have had their hearts stomped on and thrown over the cliff. But still, the poetry of the lyrics, though dulled because I don't entirely read, speak nor understand French that good, was beautiful (after being fed to Google Translate, that is).

J'aimerais tellement te dire que je n'ai plus peur mais ces mots sonnent faux.

I'd love to tell you that I am not afraid but these words ring hollow.

Ce n'est qu'une larme, juste un reste du passé dont je m'éloigne.

This is a tear, just a relic from the past, I digress.

So far, I've managed to painstakingly follow the chorus and I can now pronouce J'aimerais Tellement properly. And it made me irrevocably happy that I've found out my pronunciation for faux pas all this while has been spot on (it's pronounced fo-pa).

J'aimerais tellement te dire ce que veut mon coeur mais je n'ai pas les mots, non.

I'd love to tell you what my heart wants, but I have no words, no.

Baby pardones-moi si je fais un faux pas.

Baby, forgive me if I make a misstep.

I'm leaving in a few hours. I'll miss you guys. Occasionally.

Alright, maybe a bit more frequently, but don't expect too much. I don't want to get too homesick.

"Je vous aimais,
mais je suppose que cela n'était pas suffisant," said the mother.

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

2009-12-31T18:56:00.006+08:00

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: ...

Crud.

_______________________________

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.

Laaaaaaaaaaaugh.

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.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part IV

2009-12-28T19:19:00.009+08:00

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."
"What?"

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."

"What?"

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.

"Promise."

_____________________________________

"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 -

Linger

2009-12-28T00:26:00.003+08:00

"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.

Bah. Lol.

2009-12-25T23:30:00.002+08:00

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.

G'night.

Interval

2009-12-25T22:13:00.002+08:00

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.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part III

2009-12-23T00:00:00.013+08:00

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.

Autumn.

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?"

"Definitely."

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.

"Okay."

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."

"What?"

"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.

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

2009-12-22T21:39:00.003+08:00

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.

2009-12-22T11:36:00.003+08:00

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

-Castle.

Sometimes, he's just so aggravatingly him.

When the Autumn Leaves Blush - Part II

2009-12-20T17:51:00.001+08:00

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.

2009-12-20T14:40:00.002+08:00

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.

2009-12-20T00:29:00.003+08:00

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:

Spot.

Zoom.

WIN!

Swagger

2009-12-14T21:09:00.003+08:00

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.

Yay.

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

They are idiots.

La. Near-Awesome.

2009-12-12T00:57:00.002+08:00

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.

Then,

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.

On the matter of...

2009-12-06T16:10:00.004+08:00

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.

Boo-hoo.

2009-12-06T00:04:00.002+08:00

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.

A not-so-good Tribute.

2009-12-03T23:13:00.004+08:00

I'm tired, but not brain-dead.

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

Quotes:

#1:

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!"

#2:

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.

Bah.

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.

2009-12-03T18:50:00.002+08:00

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.

Spindles.

2009-11-28T17:39:00.000+08:00

I am going to Sabah for PLKN. Way cool, or what?!

Whooooooooooooo!

That was the reason.

It's a fight I'll not lose.

2009-11-25T19:14:00.006+08:00

I made a deal with Mei Yin.

If I lose 15 kilograms, she'll shut up about her face.

For our peace of mind, I'll try hard. Really hard.

___________________________________

Goals for December:

At least lose 4 kgs. At least.

Re-learn four dance routines.

Save money for new car. Kidding. New phone. Or maybe, a new dress. I really can't make up my mind. And notice that it gets cheaper as I proceed. Next, I'm gonna succumb to books.

Hey, Additional Mathematics is done. It was like an awful bout of night terror, but hey, it's over and done with. I'll settle for a B.

Hell, no. That was a lie. I'm only settling for an A, I tell you.

I'ma fight till we see the sunlight.
Does that make sense?

One down, on the floor.

2009-11-20T13:46:00.002+08:00

I must be crazy because I think Daniel looks waaaay hot today.

KIDDING.

Why so serious? We just finished off four - FOUR - papers in three days! And if that's not a big deal, I don't know what is.

Meanwhile, it's time to go cram some stuff into our heads and get ready for some deep-sea diving.

Hey, Torchy.

Tra-la-la.

2009-11-18T18:39:00.002+08:00

In exam hall, a few minutes before BM paper 2:

Me: *walks over to Dharr's table, snatches her IC from her*

Dharr: Heyyyy!

Me: *walks away, looking at picture on IC* Hey, cuuuute. *Sits at chair. Slips IC into pocket.*

A few minutes later,

Dharr: Farhana, gimme back my IC.

Me: It's not with me!

Dharr: *snatches my IC from the table*

Me: HEYY.

Dharr: Hah ha!

Me: *hands IC over.*

Dharr: Okay, we barter.

Me: ... *still holding out her IC*

Both: * holds on to each card with a hand*

Dharr: We swap together, kay? One... two... THREE!

Me: *Snatches both away*

Erin: *LAUGH*

Dharr: HEY!

I LOVED that moment.

Anyways, back to the drawing board.

Second stomp-a-round.

The Final Frontier (for now)

2009-11-11T16:34:00.005+08:00

I used to think that I'll never go through the awkward stage of teen-dom awkwardly.

Now, I really can't wait for it to end.

________________________________

4 days. In 4 days, it's doom and disaster.

So, I'll log off now, and blow you a final kiss goodbye,

For I'll see you on the other side.

Good luck 5th Formers, 2009.

You're gonna make it. I just know.

No giving up when you're young and you want some.

Who Gives a Damn

2009-11-08T16:05:00.004+08:00

I have my waistline back now, but if any of you suddenly clasp my waist at school to check, you are dead meat.

____________________________

A few days ago:

Shikin: If I text you back a little late, that means my phone's with my bro.

Me: Ohh. Okay.

Today:

Me: *stands in front of mirror.* Oh hey ho. *grabs phone*

Text body: Wow. I look nice in a sports bra.

After one hour of gruesome exercise and a brief check at my inbox, I just realised that there's a possibility my message has been intercepted by *gasp! look out for it!* a male. Shikin's brother, to be precisely exact.

4 hours later:

Shikin: You knw, there's a high possibility my brother read that message.

I sorta guessed it since you took a while to reply.

Oh well. Better luck next time. I'll just go draft out a few more girl-to-girl, originally-non-embarrassing messages to send her. If her brother gets it, well, whaddya know. Life's funny after all.

Do you want some?
Well, that's too bad.

Behind.

2009-11-07T12:04:00.004+08:00

Dad told me not to switch on the air-conditioner when I'm studying.

I switched it on anyways.

Teenage dreams in a teenage circus,
Running around like a clown on purpose.

- Mika, We Are Golden.

And We Loved the Things We Spoke Of.

2009-11-07T11:39:00.002+08:00

AMANDA HAS MORPHED INTO A WOMAN.

I'd make it the headline of a magazine except I don't own one.

Whoo, talk about late bloomers, she's making a boom! I'd have thought the transformation would begin slowly, and progress at a painstakingly leisurely pace. But no. It had to come bite me in the ass.

It started with a haircut. Then, a discussion about handbags. She has never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever talked about handbags enthusiastically. EVER.

And then, she talked about clothes shopping. "Hey, after SPM, can you join me to shop for a dress? I need one for my friend's party."

People, she looked plenty excited talking about it.

Then, came the mother of all doozies:

"Awh, I need to lose weight."

NOOOOOOOO.

She has stolen my part in the relationship. It's usually me who moans about my weight, not her. The other day, we went to the Mall, and what books did she look at in the Big Bookstore?

Books on slimming down.

That scenario scared the jeebs out of me. A person who once only had a passing regard for her weight and body-shape now is going all out on getting fit and into shape.

During recess:

Amanda: Hmmm, what should I eat?

Me: *headed towards the Char Kuey Teow stall*

Amanda: *talks mostly to herself* I can't eat oily foods. Watching my weight.

Me: *pauses*

And a mighty long pause it was in my head. If it were Mei Yin saying so, I'd be smiling and nodding, but Amanda saying it made me feel a bit nonplussed. Just for the moment.

But truthfully, I'm a bit glad she's making waves with her transformation.

After all, now she'll taste the agonies of being a girl. The real pain.

I must admit, it's also quite refreshing to have her able to relate to whatever I moan about. I won't be talking to myself now. There'll be two of us bemoaning our fate.

Good for me, bad for you?

Haha.

Amanda, be happy. I've immortalised you in my blog. ;p

Don't bother to fill in the blanks
We don't want to know.

Strength

2009-11-04T16:54:00.006+08:00

Aja had an orgasm yesterday. I didn't say it. Although, I did intimate it, and someone picked up on what I meant and said "She looked orgasmic!"

I love how I taint people.

HA?

[orgasmic moment]

She heard about Tokio Hotel going on live at Fly.FM from Yin.

Aja: HANA!

Me: ?! (there were no words for my shock)

Aja: HANA, THEY'RE GOING LIVE!

Me: HA?

Aja: Tokio Hotel [insert agony-face]. They going live from LA on Fly.FM from 1 to 2 o'clock.

Me: Wow.

Aja: [writhes in agony since she doesn't have a radio and we were nowhere near a radio]

Me: You know... my mp3 has a radio.

And that was when she had another ahem... la petite mort.

By the way, Aja, my arms are bruised from your death-grip.

________________________________

I stumbled across this at Facebook. Makes good comic.

Nope... I jus dun get it

We can't take addmaths!

Shuck it.

So we cleaned our table

And pretend to study

While Hana

Really really REALLY is studying

Hahahaha

laugh.

Basically, that was what they have been doing the whole time. And me... well...

Sigh.

Bye, hottie.

This record in my head.

2009-11-03T18:26:00.003+08:00

I hate the school now. Truthfully, I do.

And you know the thing I said about there being no hot guys? I take that back. He was just out of sight, that's all.

And my my, what beautiful eyes he has.

Psst. He sat in front of me. (though, if you want to be technical about it, I actually sat behind him, but hey, what's technicality in matters of hotness, eh?)

_________________________________

We had the deepest, longest discussion on how... (god, I can't even type the word out) some of the girls in our form are.

And now that I've paused to look at it, I can't help but feel a sharp sort of discomfort. Dismayed, maybe?

Because these girls whom I've known for so long, these girl who have been nothing but nice to me, were really not so nice to others.

I can't believe I missed it.

Back to the drawingboard, Psych.

________________________________

Text at 11.00 A.M. at SPM Seminar:

Me: Eugeeeeeeene. Ah. am. bored. Entertain me with your gullibility.

Eugene: Haha. You're bored this early in the morning?

I couldn't believe he thought it was early. I had to check the time again just to be sure.

We were in our 3rd hour of the seminar, and he thought it was early.

I swear, that boy...

You play it again and again,
And now, you lost the seams.

Sieve

2009-11-02T15:34:00.003+08:00

Yee Ming, you were wrong.

There were no hot guys.

____________________________________

I have to be truthfully, brutally honest.

Helmi, the school driver, scares me shitless.

Why? WHY, YOU ASK?

He's like a bloody stalker.

I've never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever (you get the gist) talked, much less communicated with him before. But when he walks past me, he smiles AT ME.

Okay, is that not creepy enough for me to freak out over?

He is big, bald, and dark. As in DARK. And he has the scariest moustache ever.

And people, help me. He is acting as if we were on cavalier terms.

The only time I've ever been at least a foot close to him was when we had to ride the van to debate.

AND NOW HE'S CALLING ME FARHANA.

The other day, during Pn K's farewell, me and Mei Yin were walking down the corridor towards the Ladies'. Then, Helmi who was walking behind us, TAPPED MY WRIST USING HIS STUPID CANE.

WHY WAS HE EVEN HOLDING A STUPID CANE FOR GOD'S SAKE? HE'S NOT A DISCIPLINARIAN.

Then, he walked by me. And smiled down at me in that cloyingly sweet way. I was going to barf.

My face most probably had "WHAT THE HELL" stamped on it.

Today, we went to a seminar (where there were no hot guys) and Helmi bought us there and fetched us home.

Since the organizers supplied food for us (which was curry and rice) we packed up, and got into the van.

And since Helmi fancies himself an F1 driver, we were all nearly overturned every time he goes round the curve.

Shouts of "Whooo, jaga-jaga kari!" and "KARI, KARI!" could be heard. It was funny enough. But then as I got out of the van, Helmi called out to me.

"Farhana, esok jangan kasi diorang bawa kari."

"Screw you."

Okay, I didn't really say it. I just smiled a I-feel-your-pain sort of smile. But really...

God, I can't wait to leave school. He's so full of himself, it's sickening.

I'm the one at the back,
The one you missed when you tossed the chalk.

If I Weren't.

2009-10-31T00:04:00.001+08:00

Maybe I say the wrong things.

But I was unhappy.

I am unhappy.

But I appreciate you.

Ungrateful wench.

And...

2009-10-30T15:06:00.007+08:00

... there I was, standing outside of the school with Mei Yin, waiting for Ma to finally come and fetch us home.

Aggravatingly, one name kept popping up in my head. On and on and on and - ah heck, you get the bloody drift, don't you? With that name reverberating in my head, I began to pace.

"Mei Yin," I snapped. "You're such a- " I halted. Knowing me, I'm sure the lot of you can guess what my most favourite crude word currently is. (in case you don't know, it starts with p, ends with y, and Jet started it.) "... wuss. God, I am such a wuss."

Bewildered, Mei Yin stared. "What?"

"Mei Yin," I spun around. "Why do you have to be so obsessed?"

"I am?"

"Since you're so obsessed with -insert name-, I can't help but be obsessed with the one person I should not be obsessed with."

The wench had the gall to laugh at me. "Who?" she asked. "Who is it? Is he the one who's the same age as us, or not?"

Appalled, I gaped. "Same age? Puh-lease, no!" Of course, I was thinking of someone else entirely. Who on earth would be obsessed over someone the same age as themselves? I mean, who, right?

Okay, maybe they're the species called "Normal Adolescents" but I seem to be an anomaly in all aspects.

"Wait," I stood before her, as realization dawned. "Who would I be obsessed over in Form 5?"

Mei Yin laughed giddily. "Oh, you know..."

"No, I don't." I paused. "Wait... Jia?!"

It's a revelation for me, even.

"No," Mei Yin stretched the syllable.

"Who? I mean, I'm obsessed with Jia's whiskers, but then... Oh my god, no, not Daniel?!"

"No, la!"

"Who? Oh my god."

"Kessler."

After this point, I don't think I remember my reaction. It was either I laughed very hard, or shouted very loudly.

No, dear, wrong again. There's only one person I'm obsessed with. And he ain't the same age as us.

One clue?

What is the melting point of beeswax in Celcius?

No, actually, don't answer that. It has nothing to do with anything. ;)

_____________________________________

In the Multipurpose Hall, I was sitting down with my skirt hiked up a little, focusing really hard on the Chemistry questions I was not supposed to be answering. It was supposed to be a Physics Workshop, but who the heck cared?

Then, out of nowhere (actually, from the east side), Eugene approached.

"Does it hurt?"

I looked up from my book, shocked. "HA?" came the indelicate sound.

"That. Your leg," he motioned with his chin.

"Oh. That," I looked away, sullenly. Seemingly embarrassed, I tugged down my skirt, masking the dark pink imperfection marring the skin.

"Why? What happened?"

"Hot water," I muttered.

"What?" he said, alarmed. "When?"

I stifled my laughter. Hell, hot water? I had a big birthmark, that's all!

"... I..." came the crack of a smile. "...can't believe you believed me!" And I burst into laughter.

And I didn't stop laughing for a long time, believe me.

Sure, Eugene was pissed off, but he forgives me. Don't you, dear?

What were his words again?

Eugene: I'd hit you, but you're too adorable to hit.

Thank you.

A few minutes later, he sat facing me, reading Gears of War. After a brief discussion of the book, we lapsed into companionable silence. Then, I noticed something else. People like him (Yee Ming, etc.) always regard the books I read condescendingly. (flashback: what's so nice about romance books? It's always the same old plots, bla bla bla.) So, it's only fair that I threw it back at him. I was pretty geared up for an intense discussion.

Me: Say, what's so great about Gears of War, anyways? What's the story about, besides gushing goriness?

Eugene: ... *too focused on book*

Me: ... *pissed.*

Eugene: ...

Me: Eugene.

Eugene: ...

Me: EUGENE!

Eugene: Huh? What?

And since Puan Rashidah conveniently entered the Workshop at that moment...

Me: There, Puan Rashidah called you.

Eugene: She did? *stands up and approaches Puan Rashidah.*

She definitely did not.

I made sure to wait till he was halfway there before calling out to him, "No, she didn't."

And guess what? I laughed my guts out again.

And Eugene wanted to kill me again.

And well whaddya know. He couldn't.

Eugene: You lied to me.

Me: No, I didn't. I just tricked you.

Eugene: YOU LIED!

Me: And you believe me! HAHAHA.

And it sucks, and it rocks,
And it's a bloody good time.

It's a Feeling

2009-10-28T16:39:00.002+08:00

We're leaving school soon.

It sure as heck doesn't feel momentous. I don't even care much if my parents are going to my graduation. Probably because I'm stuck in limbo.

Or probably because it just seems too anti-climactic, to graduate before sitting for SPM.

________________________________

We were attending the Kasturi Seminar. But unluckily, our prized spot at the front was nabbed by some other people. Darn it. So, we sat at the back. And I sat directly under the merciless blast of the air-conditioner.

Hah. Awesome.

And I don't know why, but I can't stop using the word awesome. Daniel, you prick. How dare you ruin my verbosity.

He was sitting behind me.

Daniel: *sniffles*

Me: *ignores him*

Some other guy: *sniffles*

Me: ...

Someone else: *sniffles*

Someone: Eh, shut up la.

Daniel: Eh, I cannot breathe la.

Me: Yes, you can. Through your mouth, idiot.

And Nurul burst into laughter.

Sometimes, I don't even have to try to be amusing. Nurul makes it sound as if everything I say is a punchline in itself.

Anyway, since I was so sleepy after Chem class, I crept away and bought some coffee during the short rest we had.

Daniel spotted the coffee.

Daniel: Oooh, Farhana, coffee! Come, let me pop the can for you.

Me: No.

Daniel: Thirsty la.

Me: ... NO, Daniel.

Daniel: Alaaa.

Me: Fine. But later.

In the middle of class,

Daniel: Pssst, Hannah.

Me: Hnn?

Daniel: *motions with finger* Coffee.

Me: ... I already finished it.

Daniel: What? Why? So fast?

Me:...

Daniel: Hannah, you owe me coffee.

Apparently, according to Daniel, the whole world owes him at least one thing.

I think we owe him his ... Nevermind.

Choose:
Hello goodbye, goodbye hello.

Burn Post

2009-10-27T23:43:00.005+08:00

If anyone wants to prank someone, please send spam/prank/bullshit to this email: esosaea@hotmail.co.uk.

I gladly laud your efforts.

pssst. Please do not redirect to this post. Haha.

Note to guys: please don't lie to us girls. The consequences are dire indeed.

Dishing out advice when you know you're in the wrong.

My poor punkin.

2009-10-24T18:34:00.004+08:00

Updates for the week (not in chronological order):

Nurul claims she's a lesbian.

Daniel claims he's gay.

My English is... atrocious.

I'm wearing purple nail polish. My mom thought it was coloured henna.

Gaik Xuang is currently leading in my list of Top Form 4's. Sheng has dropped to 2nd place.

I think Ken is at 21st.

The number 2012 means nothing to me but trash.

Jia Xiang suddenly looks manly. Dear, please shave. You're giving me shivers looking at your whiskers.

I miss (haha! YOU HIGHLIGHTED! CAUGHT YOU!)

Had the most awesome Hari Kecemerlangan Kokurikulum ever. (mostly because I'm finally getting a certificate.)

Managed to complete 75% of Paper 1 questions on AddMaths without checking the answers.

Caught a cold, and coughing like mad.

I stopped checking for his name all the time.

Kye Li finally realises that I think she's pretty.

Julia seems to have a knack at misinterpreting things.

People still talk about my blog. Whoot.

They misspelled Erin's name in the booklet. I have to laugh. Sorry, Erin.

Petai sucks when you have to eat 2 of them. Raw. My mouth stinks. Thank you, petai.

Am flattered that Nurul's mom is very concerned that I am breaking school rules. ("Nurul, Farhana's in trouble! She's sms-ing you from school!)

Understood each and every joke of Mr. How's.

Asked Daniel if he was going to "show" anyone his "private fireworks" after SPM. (he went "eww, Farhana!". He hasn't come into terms that I love teasing him.)

Tried to pull up Erin's skirt. Nearly succeeded.

Tried to pull up Dharr's skirt. Failed.

Again, people are asking me what they should wear. Really, what if I'd said, "Go naked."?

Promise: I will call you, Hariz. Come hell or high water.

People said my 'Secret Ingredient' was the best-tasting. Considering we were supposed to make them puke, I don't think it's a good thing.

I got over a crush that lasted for 2 minutes. And I'm proud of myself?

And I can't turn back now,
You've brought me too far,

For you.

2009-10-17T17:53:00.003+08:00

We walked miles and miles.

And we ended up buying nail polish.

Gah.

And Kye Li wore a dress.

Thank god she looked pretty in it or I'd make her burn the dress.

Run, run, run,
Even when your legs ache bone-deep.

It's not an issue.

2009-10-15T19:47:00.002+08:00

Happy Birthday, you dweeb.

(bleargh.)

______________________________________

It's scarily fun playing cards with Kessler. I mean, we played a severely altered version of bridge. And apparently, it required us to have "eye-contact" with our partner. Ahem. Kessler was my partner (since we were the only newbies in the game and Amanda and Nurul just HAD to be with each other).

Our communication through eye-contact was... embarrassing. I had a Queen of Hearts and really, we could have won a set.

I shook my head at him to NOT disagree with the one card laid down.

He disagreed flat out.

I gave him a more vigorous, desperate shake of the head, begging him to not disagree.

He goes all out on disagreeing with the suit.

I was going to smack his head.

But all in all, we won three rounds out of six. Whoot! Not bad for newbies.

And then, we sat next to each other when we played Cheat, and also Bullshit. I cannot lie to save my life. Although, there were those times... but no one knew anyways. Gahaa.

Anyhow, Cheat was easy-peasy. Bullshit however, was a bit tougher.

Kessler won first.

But since he was too bored, he called someone else's bluff while knowing full well that they weren't bluffing. Hence, he was back in the game.

After winning a second time, he asked to play my cards with me.

He's the greatest Bullshitter ever. Seriously. I am awed.

We won after a few moves.

I suppose it's because he's very tactical. How awesome. I can't be tactical in some things. I'm a bit too scatter-brained.

But all in all, today was awesome. Stupendous, awesome.

A couple of years,
And you'll find out my name.

Fabio.

2009-10-12T15:13:00.007+08:00

One thing a girl who is studying does not need to hear:

Her parents flirting behind her. In Arabic.

Good god.

But come to think of it, it's sort of sweet. Imagine you flirting with your husband in Arabic while your daughter's struggling with her Add Maths just a few metres away.

Okay, a bit hard to imagine, since you've rarely - if ever- seen your parents flirt. I see it every-bloody-day. It's rather scary since your friends' parents rarely do so. Some have the most platonic marriage I've ever heard of.

My parent's are rather touchy-feely. Sometimes. Occasionally. Well, they really like to show affection.

... I think I can now justify my butt-smacking.

It's all apart of the love, dears.

You didn't just take those memories.
You stole them.

Manipulation

2009-10-11T15:13:00.002+08:00

Last night, I was bored out of my mind. And since Hariz has no credit (boooo!) I texted both Zi Kang and E Von.

E Von replied late.

Anyways,

Me: Jordan says you have a belly. You know, a "belly". xD

Z: Hahaha. What does that mean?

Me: xD Jordan was just making a point. He says he's a better Romeo to my Juliet than you are. Oh, and I think he meant something equivalent to a beer belly.

Z: Genuine love can stand the test of time and shock of adversity. Although we haven't been meeting for a couple of months, I believe that a century of time will just intensify our love coz it is made up of our truest sincerity. Unless your sincerity is fake, then our bond will be weak. N oh yeah, my belly is so sexy! Wait 4 me, I will come back. Ditch him!

I wet my pants reading that one.

I think Zi Kang's on a rebound. 19 months ago, he seemed like he had a stick up his arse (harsh, Zi Kang, but a lot of people thought you needed to relax). But now, he's spouting pseudo-romantic prose to his unceasingly amused junior. Tsk tsk.

I wonder if I'll become reserved one day.

Zi Kang made a transformation from Oxford-bound Preppie to I-Sleep-Around Mr Lothario.

Me, Modern-Day Jezebel to Self-Proclaimed Virgin?

Tsk, how our emotional upheavals manipulate us.

I know you tried to play the good girl.