Chapter Three

           Three days have passed since I first met Sean. It felt like I have finally found a friend or a companion after all these years after having graduated from High School. But it wasn’t like I had friends back in school. Staying in an orphanage doesn’t exactly help you fit in.

           

             It didn’t always used to be like this. I used to have a family, a place where I could call home. But that part of my life crumbled away when my mother died. No wait, it was way before that. It should be the time when my father left us when I was seven. After which, all the memories of my mother was of her beating me up when she was drunk and bringing different men home every other night.

 

            Yes, she was a whore, in every meaning of the word, and I hated it. Each time she staggered home into our one room apartment, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes with one of those disgusting men who didn’t take more than a glance at me, all it did was to fuel my detest. Little did they know that I still remember their faces, every single one of them, the colour of their hair, the shape of their eyes and the uplift of the edges of their lips with thoughts of what was promised to them in the room. She would just wave her arms at me, telling me to sleep on the sofa and then make her way into the room clinging onto the man.

 

The moans and cries which emitted from behind the door only made me winced. I couldn’t concentrate on anything and all I felt like doing was to bring hurt onto someone, to hit someone, to pierce someone with a knife, anything! But all I could do was retreat into a corner of the sofa and forced myself to sleep.

 

On nights which she didn’t bring a man back, she would probably be either too drunk to talk to me or would be hitting me, blaming me for my father having left us. My bruises and cuts increased day by day and so did my anger. The scars never went away, like a constant reminder of what I was about to do to my mother.

 

She was having a huge row with one of the men whom I have seen around for a few times. The quarrel soon became a fight, with him pushing her into a corner and placing blows after blows onto her face and body. But she wasn’t one to be left beaten up, she was trained from the days when my father used to beat her. It wasn’t long before they were screaming, shouting and causing as much pain as they could to each other.

 

All I did was to sit and stare and watched as the man finally pulled out a Swiss army knife from his pocket and stabbed her in the stomach. Specks of blood hit me in the face but still, I remained where I was. Was it due to shock? She let out a long and dreadful scream. The man panicked and fled, leaving the knife in her body. As she cried out to me for help, I got off the sofa and slowly made my way towards her. Her pitiful body lay helpless on the floor while she reached out her hand towards my leg and grabbed it.

 

            “Help me… Call the ambulance…” she cried out desperately, but I stood still, looking back blankly at her.

 

            “Chris… My dear boy… Hurry up and call the ambulance. You wouldn’t want your mummy to die would you?”

 

            Her final sentence struck me. This woman who had lashed at me when she was drunk, who didn’t care less that I was alone at home all the time and when I needed my mother. Yes! I wanted her to die! In a moment of furyand determination, I pulled the knife out from her stomach and stabbed her once, twice in the chest until she fell limb onto the floor.

- to be continued -

Chapter Two

The leaves rustled gently with the light breeze that was blowing pass. Being too relaxed always made me particularly emotional as I felt a tear trickling down my face. I should have kicked this habit of mine long ago but it stayed with me through my childhood and past my teens. Closing my eyes, I decided to take a quick nap lying down on the grass beside the lake. I deserved it, considering that most of my time the past few weeks has been spent on last minute coaching to prepare my students for their up-coming piano examinations.

Light footsteps were approaching me and I opened my eyes to take a look. A silhouette was blocking the sun and for a moment, it looked like an angel which has descended from the heavens. Rubbing my eyes for a bit, I saw that it was a man in his early twenties. I quickly stood up beside him and the first thing I noticed was his dark brown eyes which stood out from his pale complexion. His silky hair danced along with the passing wind like they were one and I made a mental note to myself about his too long fringe which blocked his beautiful eyes when the wind wasn’t blowing.

His thin pink lips spread into a soft smile, which further emphasized on his good looks along with the two dimples at his cheeks. Any girl would have swooned at him on the spot, including me, if not for the fact that I am a guy. If not for the requirements of my job, I doubt I would have any contact with anyone at all. I wasn’t exactly sociable which explains why I am all by myself on a Sunday when most people are out with their close ones.

“Perfect weather for a day out isn’t it?” he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes while looking up into the sky.

Oh my gosh, doesn’t he knows that’s the worse thing to say as a first sentence to a perfect stranger? “Ya, it sure is”, I replied like nothing was wrong. It has been a long time since I last spoke to anyone around my age. All I get to talk to are kids who don’t do much as conversation partners as they spend more of their time talking than listening. Other than that, I also get to speak to their parents who are too busy convincing you that their children are rather good for their age and I don’t bother to correct them seeing its best for both me and them.

He smiled at me again, which didn’t have quite the effect it did the first time, but it was charming nonetheless.

“By the way, I’m Sean. What’s your name?” he held out his right hand for me to shake and I took it politely. Although it wasn’t part of my plan to meet anybody today, I welcomed his appearance rather happily although questioning his intention for talking to me.

“It’s Chris here. Nice meeting you” I gave him a smile of my own which I usually reserved for students who have done well during practice.

“Nice meeting you too. So what plans have you got today?” he asked.

“Nothing much actually. I though I would just get out of my house for a walk to get some fresh air.” I replied, taking note of the fact that he is talking to me like a long lost friend.

“So, would you mind if I interrupt your not-so-busy day with an invitation for a drink at the nearby café?” he asked confidently, as though already knowing the answer.

“Well sure. Nothing would be more interesting than getting a drink with a complete stranger. On top of that, I think I would treat myself to some light snack.” I jokingly replied.

He stuck out his arm to guide me towards the direction of the café. We chatted as we walked and I got to know more about him in the process. Little did I know that this coincidental meeting would be the start of a joke fate was playing on us.

 

 

 

Chapter One

Slipping Through

 

Missing each other each time we crossed this path,

Slipping through the time we thought would always last.

Looking back at those hell-like days we though would never end,

Listening to your singing which brought peace in the end. 

———————————————————————————-

         Streams of blood flowed relentlessly from the deep wound in his chest, further coloring the already dark red carpet. The accursed Swiss army knife was lying unwanted at the far corner of the living room. I must have flung it away from the shock of the spraying blood. His lifeless body looke  so peaceful, as though he is just taking an evening nap on my lap.

             A faint smile played on his pale face, as though thanking me for the horror that I have committed. He lured me into this. It was all part of his plan, to let it end off in my hands.

           This wasn’t supposed to happen. This must be a joke! How can he be dead? Oh damn that police siren. They are going to wake him up if they don’t turn the volume down. His fringe is still as long as ever, shining like threads of gold under the setting sun, which was coming in from the light fabric of the curtains.

             Who is that knocking on the front door? It must be the old hag, Miss Hitch from next door, inquisitive and irritating as ever. Guess I should just ignore her as Sean always hated her ever pressing questions, poking around in our business as she doesn’t have much of her own. Now I can hear muffled voices coming through the door. It doesn’t sound like the old hag. Wonder who it is then. I will just leave them be and maybe they will go away and leave me to be alone with Sean.

            The knockings got louder and more persistent and I felt that I could no longer ignore it. Placing my lips on his forehead, I gave Sean a soft kiss before getting up to answer the door. Two policemen were standing on my porch and their police car was parked clumsily halfway up the pavement. Before I could say anything, they shoved me backwards and rushed into my living room without even taking off their dirty boots. How rude can our country’s defenders of the law get? Before I could react, they grabbed and pinned me to the floor, face down, and started putting handcuffs on me. One of the police went over to Sean and placed his finger on his neck, as though feeling for a pulse.

           “He’s dead.” he uttered to the other policeman.

            What do they think they are doing? Sean is jus sleeping, he’s not dead! He looks just as beautiful as the first day I had met, where I mistook him for an angel. Where was it again? Oh right, it was at the lake, under the old tree.

 

 

 

 

National Novel Writing Month

just awhile ago, milton introduced me to this event that is going on around the world. as i am lazy to talk more about it, here is the link for you guys to find out more.

http://www.nanowrimo.org

anyway, it sounded rather interesting to me so i decided to give it a shot. i am working on it now although my novel doesn’t have a concrete plot. the title is “slipping through” for now. i may decide to change it if i can think of a better one. will be updating the novel on this blog so those who are interested can take a look at it. wonder whether i will ever be able to complete it in time. never know when i will give up too. oh well, just going to do whatever i can and see how it goes.

i’m home

Pushing open the door silently, he peeked in cautiously, scanning around for his mother. Was she in a good mood today? Or was she prowling around, waiting to get at him?

With trembling hands, and shaky legs, he approached the kitchen towards the sounds of clanking plates and rushing water. He called out meekly to make known his presence, anticipating the kind of welcome he was going to receive.

He is long used to the moments of escalating fear which were followed by either relief or bouts of pain and hopelessness. However, the intensity of dejection does not decrease with time.

He called out again, thinking that she might not have heard him the first time. As she turned around slowly, he could feel the acceleration of his heart beat with every passing moment.

His day was not meant to be. A look of irritation flashed across his mother’s face as she looked at him. He knew what was coming but it did not lessen the heaviness in his little heart.

She screamed profanities and threw whatever she could get her hands on, at him. It would all end soon, he told himself. And it did, but not before having been cut on his forehead by a piece of shattered glass and having been bruised on his arms and legs.

Despite all the pain, he did not blame her. He knew he deserved it, he knew he did. That’s what she told him right? Why else would he be going through such agony? He once read in a book about retribution. “You reap what you sow”, it said. So all this must be due to something bad which he had done. Maybe it was the time he stole his classmate’s new mechanical pencil. Or maybe because he took a peek at another person’s paper during the Maths test.

But there was a time when life wasn’t like this. Sure there was, when Daddy was still around. However, Daddy went out one day and never came back. He heard relatives talking about “mistress” and “eloped” and wondered what those words meant. All he knew was that Daddy was never coming back.

It wasn’t that he didn’t try waiting. Wait he did, but it was all to no avail. He used to sit at the door, straining his ears to listen for the sounds which Daddy used to make. The nostalgic tip-tapping of feet as he walked along the corridor and jingling of keys when opening the door. But after 5 months and 13 days of waiting, he gave up. It was also around that time when his mother started ignoring him. Neglect slowly turned into irritation and finally random periods of hysteria.

i hate having to think of titles!!

as you can see, most of my stories are placed in the setting of the office. can’t blame me as i am in an office most of my time nowadays. by the way, all characters in my stories are mere fictitious beings. so if you see any simlar traits, please forgive me as i may have adopted some of it from people around me. but they are truly no one in particular but rather a mix of characteristics of various people.

in the office

There she goes again, Miss BMW (not the car, it stands for Big Mouth Woman) sashaying around the office in her frilly dress and over done cheeks with bright pink blusher (commonly labelled as baboon’s butt by the rest of the staff). She goes about with her usual morning routine of informing everyone about how busy she would be for the rest of the day.

Counting down to 3, 2 and 1 more cubicle before she reaches my seat, I mentally prepared myself for her shrilly laughter and fake smile.

“Morning! So have you had your breakfast?”

I replied with a bored “Ya~~” before going back to my work.

“Well, do you know that you should have a healthy breakfast…”, she continued as though it didn’t matter that there are others who seriously had work to do. I listened to her attentively and waited for the moment to chase her away.

“Oh! By the way, I have got so much work to do today. There is this report..”, I cut her off before she could tell me more about her imaginary report.

“Wow! Really? Then why are you here instead of working on it?”

Her cheeks flushed through her thick makeup (which seems almost impossible), and she quickly stomped off. Well, I will be looking forward to my usual source of entertainment tomorrow.

the subordinate

She’s shouting her head off again. It has been like this for 7 years now, slogging my life away in this nameless company. Okay, so I screwed up on this proposal but the customer was never interested in the project to begin with. So what’s the problem?

A mental picture of me ripping her throat apart amused me even though right now I felt as though I was the one getting torn into pieces

If only I could leave my job. But I can’t imagine the kind of hell my wife would bring upon me if she finds out, especially with the piling up of bills and a baby coming soon.

I will tolerate with this for just one more month till I can find a better offer. Just one more month…

swing

The rusty chains creaked, straining with every jerk of the hand and push off of the feet. The swing was groaning beneath her weight when it seems just like yesterday her feet merely scraped the leaf-filled ground.

The sky dimmed with every passing moment, changing from shades of yellow to orange, and finally dissipating into tiny specks of dust glistening in the dark blue sky.

Her smile has grown weary with the passing of time. She has now experienced the bitterness along with the sweetness in life. As she recollected on the events of the day, a tear rolled down her cheek and joined the dance of the light drizzle that was falling from the heavens.

time-out on my journey

this is the post which pauses my never-ending quest to curb my boredom. wonder how long this would last before i start on my journey again. or maybe this is the journey i have been looking for. who knows? the main purpose of this blog would be to put down my ideas and thoughts in words rather than allowing them to continue wandering around in my head. have been thinking about doing this for quite some time. in fact, it has been years but i never actually got down to it as i was lazy (i am a professional procrastinator) and i kept convincing myself that i didn’t have the time. well, it finally seemed like the right time to do it so here it is. those of you who are tired of reading, please scram. there is this “x” button at the top right hand corner of your screen. just click it. this is purely for my own entertainment purpose and along the way, i hope to amuse beings like myself, just looking for a place to gather around with overflowing creativity juices.