Saturday, September 29, 2012


There are specific reasons why I don’t let people in so easily anymore.

Relationships and friendships are difficult notions to understand; especially as we progress to becoming adults.

When we were teenagers, we all thought that love, friendship and relationship were all as honest as their meanings in our dictionaries. Too bad, life would’ve been a totally different story if everything had its literal meaning, no?

Unfortunately for me, I’ve always had bad luck both ways. I do not wish to say beyond that, but what I can truly say is that after 22 years of living; with endless heartaches from broken friendships and relationships, I am very scarred and shattered deep inside.

I just can’t let anyone in anymore.

And at this very moment, I’m trying hard to purge certain people out of my life. Not because they did anything wrong, but I guess because I’ve let them in too close to me that they have the power to hurt me; and I just can’t allow that to happen for the umpteenth time, right?

Anyhow, I hope everyone else is doing alright and able to trust others. I hope no one becomes like me; because being unable to trust others; and building walls will you pained, scarred and hollow deep inside your soul.




Thursday, July 19, 2012

Mr H (part 5)

“That was incredible! Bravo bravo!” A thundering clap and an unfamiliar voice echoed from the far-end of the stage. It was the director himself, Daniel Collins; a third year who’s been directing plays ever since he came to the school two years ago. “That was utterly brilliant! That song and your voices; how did you two manage to come up with that?”

He walked up towards us, looking very pleased with what we did a few moments ago. Yes, it was Daniel Collins in flesh and blood. I was always a fan of his directed-plays (He used to date Viv), but at that very moment, I was really second-guessing my decision. He was now standing before me and H; his eyes wide and his face happy. “You are right, Vera. We all have underestimated your abilities as well as Haru’s choice. I truly apologise on behalf of my production crew members if they were being harsh on you, but they were right for pushing you. You did well.”

“Really Daniel, your words are very kind but I do not intend to continue on assuming such a role. I was merely stating my point and just proving to everyone that I am really not another goth-chick who knows nothing. For starters, I’m not even label-able.” I snapped rather quickly at him before making a mental map of the complex; trying to figure out potential escape routes. This was my chance of running away for good! “Why, aren’t you Kuhn-Kaioh’s all the same? Rebels with beautiful faces; awkward with popularity?” Daniel held my wrist rather swiftly before I could make any further moves; forcing me to confront him myself. It didn’t help the fact that I was already blushing from that idiot H’s doing; now to face a person I’d admired? 
Geez, what did I ever do you wrong, God?

So I got my gameface on as soon as possible and turned towards him. “And what are you trying to do, Mr Collins?” “Trying to stop you from making your exit. I can’t let the star of the show walk-off just like that, yes?” “Well, I’m still quitting. Good singing won’t help a poorly written script. You, of all people, should know that better; Danny C.” Upon listening to this, he let my hand go.

At that point in time, I thought I’d won. Like, come on, the director let go of me after he heard my perfectly reasonable reason for quitting such a wretched play! Oh boy, I was never more WRONG!

The next few weeks went by rather swiftly, with classes in the morning and practice in the late noon. It was practically tiring and of course, soul-sucking. Me and my big mouth! If only I hadn’t said anything about the play; I wouldn’t have been in this position of having to juggle between studying, doing my own thing, acting. (The director changed everything and decided my opinion was right) And then, of course, there was that other issue: Spending late evenings/nights over at H’s place to rehearse.

Look, I am not complaining now the fact that at least people see me as an individual that’s not label-able, but honestly I am just uncomfortable about having to spend more time with another person than myself, especially not with the guy who became the sole reason why you were in this mess in the first place.

Yes, I admit it; I have to spend at least 2 hours practicing privately; just me, him and our singing. I needed extra practice-sessions with him as our voices didn’t really have the sort of beautiful-we-finish-each-others-sentences kinda chemistry; it was only present during our first spontaneous practice performance.

And it really didn’t help that we’d started on the wrong foot when tackling our problems; especially with his over-powering voice and my rather shaky lower-chest voice during the singing parts of the play. There was this one time we’d basically lashed out for outdoing the other and taking too much of the spotlight instead of sharing the stage; we both had wanted to own it. Funny, I thought I’d met a guy like him once back in The US. Perhaps I’d gone totally bonkers as a result of too much interaction with other people or it might just be that my own body was undergoing withdrawal symptoms as a result from not getting enough time for myself. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

So it was Daniel who suggested that me and him get together to spend more time rehearsing. It was only natural to decline and oppose of such a terrible idea, but when we tried singing over and over again, the cracks became bigger and we were running out of time. So, there. That’s the story.

The end.

Okay so no, of course the story doesn’t stop there. Okay, okay. I’ll be real now; and so this was what happened when I decided to run off to ask for a favour from H about the practicing.

It was during recess that I decided to go look for him at the usual table number 6; the cool kids’ table in the cafeteria. Yeah, whatever that means. As I came closer to the table, the whole bunch suddenly went all quiet and everyone turned to look at this alien who’d never spoken to any of them nicely, walk up to them to ask for a favour. I must be really desperate then, for me to actually walk up to this disgusting lot! But I was already here, so might as well just get to the point, right?

“Where’s...H?” I asked in the ugliest voice ever; sounding almost like a plea.

“You mean Hatsuharu?” A ginger-haired guy answered me casually as he continued to sip the Vanilla Coke.
I nodded, not wanting to make any further comments. I didn’t know any of these people, but I definitely recognise this guy; he was always hanging around H in school.  He had a particular aura surrounding his being. I can’t seem to predict what he’s about to do; just like that idiot H!

Everyone else kept a close eye on me, as if I am some kinda weirdo who’ve just came up to their table to ask for an application form to hang around with them. Really, do I look THAT weird? It's not that I don't have eyes or a mouth on my face!

Argh, contented brats!

The boy stood up; almost towering me in the process (he was slightly shorter than H but of course looking almost like a skyscraper to me), and before I knew it, he’d pulled me into a light embrace. My body, automatically, froze and tensed under this total stranger’s control. (Yes, I wonder up till today why I still get surprised when these crazy idiots do unpredictable things to me and still remain quiet-something TOTALLY out of character for me) But yes, he hugged me in the cafeteria and I did hear many, many gasps from the pretty girls table on my left and loads of whistling on my right. Social outcast, here I come! Not that I really care anyways.

We separated quickly as he pulled on my wrists; leading me out of the cafeteria asap. I was now even more puzzled; almost throwing a fit but then I’d remembered that tantrums won’t really help me with boys like this hugger and that Haru idiot.

The next thing I know; we were on level 2 in the gym; facing the indoor basketball courts where I saw H shooting hoops in his school uniform from above; or what is left of it for that matter. I was pretty much dazed at what I was witnessing. Somehow, H seemed...agitated and worried about something. He had a frown decorating his soft features underneath all of the controlled dribbling and constant perfect-shots. I wonder what it is.

“You’re very warm and your heartbeat’s really fast; just like he said.” This hugger was now whispering into my ear; he was standing behind me, his body weight supported by his hands on the balcony railings. I started to feel breathless and stuffy; I just didn’t like being treated like I’m a toy and I disliked people penetrating my personal space. It’s just...too much. I could feel anger overwhelming in my veins and I could feel my face redden with both angst and embarrassment.

“What is the meaning of this?” I braved myself to utter such words although fear resonated very clearly as I ended the sentence.

“You smell of fresh sakura blooms and lilies, Vera. H was right after all.” His right hand pulling a strand of curls and tucking it behind my ear, his left pulling on my waist and I could feel the warmth from his skin growing closer to my neck. I couldn’t move now; I didn’t know what to do! SHIT! NO! This wasn’t happening again!! NO! And...automatically, I screamed loudly, “H!H!H! Make him STOP, H!” Clear droplets were now streaming slowly down my cheeks as I fell onto the floor, knees weak and wobbly; the world was spinning rather fast and before I knew it... I felt the touch of those familiar long fingers before my world turned pitch black.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Mr H (part 4)

“No! No! NO! Good God! Put more soul into it; put more feelings into it! Be afraid, be terrified! Jesus Christ, is that SO hard to do?” screamed the assistant director, Charlotte Branch. She kept telling me my walking style, my intonation were just all wrong. *sigh*

This isn’t anything new to me; this has been going on for the past few days since the practice for the play started. I’ve been dragged against my own will by some idiot guy who thinks he owns this whole school to participate in this stupid Spring play in which the script is POORLY written, the costumes designed to be too modern for its time and the production crew is just a nightmare to work with! I initially refused to work with everyone as a form of protest as I so adore the original book and so to have witness such a bad interpretation of a genius’ masterpiece is really killing me from the inside. But, unfortunately for me I’d counted my blessings a little too early and now here I am; playing the lead female character, Christine Daae, opposite that idiot guy H as Raoul.

“Really, Haru, she isn’t cut out for this role! Christine Daae is supposedly played by a beautiful woman who sings well, has a kind heart,...not a totally ugly goth-chick who doesn’t like people, can’t sing for shit and gets annoyed at the slightest of comments! She’s not even taking my comments seriously! And she either nods or out! Are you SURE she’s the girl for this? Cause I’m beginning to second-guess your decision, Haru. ” The blonde snapped at H, who was sitting quietly at the grand piano in the middle of the stage. Everyone else had stopped what they were doing and were now looking at us. GREAT, just what I needed!

 As usual, the tall lad had a huge grin plastered on his face upon hearing such a complaint. “Have you ever considered asking her of what she thinks of this play?” He asked; sipping on the hot-chocolate he was holding in his left hand, eyeing me at the same time.

Geez, now what? My heart grunted at the thought of Charlotte asking me such a question; but then I became even more frustrated knowing my answer would just trigger world war 3.

I watched Charlotte silently throwing a fit mentally before turning to me; face as frustrated as ever and finally asking me, “Vera, why are you being a total pain in the arse?”

I giggled hard. Rude? I believe so, too. But that really was the first time anyone’s ever asked me such a direct question instead of beating about the bush. She’s definitely got guts; this blonde girl.
“I believe that wasn’t the question you’re supposed to ask me, Miss Branch.” I replied calmly, looking her straight in the eyes. The blonde rolled her eyes as I ended my sentence, but before she could say anything more, I’d stepped in again, “But since you’d asked me such a direct question, I shall answer it. But I warn you; I am only responsible for what I say, not what you or anyone else in this hall understands.” The crew were now gathered around the stage, some nodding and some whispering in hushed voices.

“I am being a total bitch because number one, I was being forced to take on Christine Daae’s role by some idiot who thinks he can do basically anything just because everyone worships him.” Even more whispers and murmurs could be heard from EVERY angle of the place as it was an open secret that Haru insisted on Christine Daae’s role to be handed over to me.

 “Number two, I can’t take this whole play seriously because of this horrendous script; it is full of shit and the interpretation is just awful and depressing. Number three, the costume-designing department should really be sued for coming up with the most ridiculous designs as the costumes are just too modern for such a play. Number four, you’re not really the director, Miss Branch; you’re the assistant director acting like you’re in charge just because the director is sick.”

“Yes and when he is sick I am in charge!” Her screeching voice interrupted my speech; but of course, I had ignored her completely and continued on.

“And for your info, I am a trained singer, I have a beautiful 4-octave vocal range with a strong and clear chest voice and a sweet sultry head voice; and I have undergone a few training sessions for opera singing since I discovered that I could sing. I’ve been acting in theatres and plays since I was 3 when my family was staying abroad in the States, so do not underestimate me when you haven’t even given me the chance to do things my way for a change.”

The whole place fell silent. That was the first time in my whole life that I’d bothered to state my personal opinion out loud to everyone. I could hear faint whispers here and there but I couldn’t care less. As I turned around to walk towards the exit, I heard Charlotte’s voice telling me to “prove my argument.”
Fine. She wants a show, I’ll give her one heck of a show! My heart yelped as I stormed up to the grand piano; only to find that idiot, H casually flipping through the score sheets, showing of how oblivious he was about what I’d said.

“Can you play the piano?”

The tall bloke looked at me with questioning eyes, and made space for me to sit on the piano bench. He didn’t answer me and somehow it kinda made me feel tight-chested for some reason. But it really wasn’t the time for me to start caring about such a foreign feeling inside of me; I’d just wanted to prove everyone, especially Charlotte Branch that I am nothing like what she’d described before I take my absolute departure from such a pathetic stage. I should play the best version of The Phantom of The Opera song I could ever, ever play and sing my heart out.

With a long, deep breath, my hands touched on the keys softly, almost caressing the beautiful whites and blacks; a slight warm-up I always do before I start any piano playing. As I’d started to play the intro, I felt another pair of hands mimicking my hand movements before making their own dance routine, making the starting of the song sound even more haunting and so awfully emotional.

I started singing when the time came, and to my surprise, H sang along with me (during the male parts). It felt really....surreal. I’ve never had a singing partner before; and to sing with someone who could sing along and know my singing pace is just...beyond comprehension for me. His voice complimented mine and he sang pitch-perfect as well as having a beautiful timbre with an impressive vibrato that is well controlled. Okay now I sound like a freak but really, his singing is just mesmerising!

As we finished our piano/singing session, I found him staring deep into my eyes as he pulled my face close to his. If this was some chick-flick movie, this would probably be the time when the hero kisses the girl of his dreams and dramatic music comes into the background. But alas, this is my life-story so he didn’t kiss me, but he did compliment me; something I am not used to getting. “You sing well. I know I didn’t make the wrong decision about choosing you, V.” I felt my whole face burning up as he gently caressed my cheeks with his long fingers for a bit; rubbing his thumb constantly on my left cheek-bone.

Again, total silence filled in the room, though its presence right now seemed much more appropriate. And then, it happened.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Cowards vs Fighters

11:32 pm,
3rd July 2012,

I’ve noticed many of my flaws in the last few years; the betrayals and lies that have been exchanged between these lips and others.

And I have come to a very simple conclusion; that in every situation:

1) Cowards run and hide; claiming pitiful votes from people who are weak and just as ignorant.

2) Fighters analyse the overall situation, accept, make changes and move on; despite of whatever others might say.

Please be aware that the conclusion I came up with above can be manipulated and extended to all sorts of situations that we face in life.

Why? We’ve been programmed to malfunction at certain points, but fret not; as we always have room for improvement. Improving one’s self is the best goal a person can ever have; and I hold on to that belief whole-heartedly.

I have been a coward countless of times; yes I shall plead guilty on such accusations. I’ve blamed everyone for many things; the worst is for my own faults way back in 2006. But when I have finally gotten my conscience clear, I see both sides of the story; both faults to the overall situation. So, in the end, I was just as pitiful, just as stupid and just as egoistic.

It takes courage and strength to be able to look and admit fault, just as how it takes a lot to say sorry. These are the things I’ve learned to do in the past few years; things that my 150-dollar-textbooks won’t ever be able to teach me.

The inner strength, the ability to have faith in the Divine, the willingness to say sorry, the courage to face the consequences, to be able to trust others and still celebrate this gift of life; that’s the challenge.

Blaming others, spreading bitter stories, all those behaviours are the easy ways out. To control one’s emotions, to keep one’s silence and hold your head up despite of the hateful looks, the hushed-whispers and the negative-aura emitted from almost everyone when present in the same room, that’s the real deal.
It definitely isn’t easy becoming a fighter. But it’s not impossible.

A fighter must be able to accept his faults, accept the situation and make the best of it for a better future. A fighter must be able to live on, forgiving and extending apologies when necessary, never letting his ego and pride cloud his judgements or poison his conscience. A fighter must live life in an even better way after such things happened; and still be true to his values and fundamentals. A fighter, too, must learn to draw the line between trusting his head and trusting his heart. A fighter keeps his emotions and logic separated far from one another, so that he wouldn’t ever be influenced by the former when making a decision.

Now that’s a fighter, along with a thousand other definitions and conditions I just can’t manage to extract from my head.

So, the next questions to ask are do I have all the requirements to become a fighter? and where do I stand between being a coward and a fighter?

Haha! That’s definitely a tough one to answer, but at the position I am standing now, I am a cadet; a cadet in the Becoming-a-Better-Person-Academy. Sounds funny? Sounds hilarious?

You may not take me seriously, but this time, I really want to become a strong, independent, determined fighter. I really, truly do. I am tired of going through painful heartaches, saddening separation, sour faces whenever I go to parties, situations. I want to become a better person, become a stronger person. Even if it means that I have to stand alone for some time.

I believe that I am my biggest enemy, therefore to become a full-fledge fighter, I have to train myself the way a fighter trains; strict, disciplined, determined and I also have to become a strong-willed person.
I must learn how to handle my emotions; I should learn how to accept differences in opinions. I must accept that not everyone likes chocolate and designer sunglasses; also some people may dislike the notions I introduce to the table.

I know what you’re thinking; you think that I’ll never achieve such things because I’m a rotten-hearted person, an acidic solution with the pH of 1.0 that will corrode anything and leave only sadness and crumbs behind. I know what all of you think about me, and, contrary to what I’d always say (I don’t care), I do care.

Okay, so maybe not to the extent of trying to please everyone, but I’d like to change so that people don’t get offended by my words and actions, so that people don’t get me wrong. Little things that I should pay more attention to, so that I do not sin for no reason. I think maybe these past few years, my attitude of not-caring-at-all has been repulsive to no end, and I should, I must and I am obligated (as a Muslim) to become a better person; hence the changes are necessary, be it as big as an elephant or as small as an ant.

I want to change; I want to become a fighter! A fighter who knows his personal limits and has boundaries, a fighter who’s willing to give it all out to celebrate this life that’s been entrusted upon him by the most Merciful One above.

So right now, in black and white, this is my letter of promise; to change and become a better person, insya-Allah. And I shall strive, everyday, to be better, stronger; a winner.

Thank you to those who’ve been standing tall for me, my guardian angels; especially Manissa S & Syafika Z. & Wan Zanariah who've never failed to leave my sight when my world became a dark, never-ending tunnel, and some other people; you know who you are.

And thank you to those who've helped me realise such things. It may not be easy at first, but I am at peace with everything and happy that I've gotten to realise all this.


Alia R.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Mr H (part 3)

After that incident, I found myself getting even more detached with people and the outside world; almost avoiding any contact or communicating with others in any form possible. It wasn’t that I was suffering from inferiority complex of any sort; it was the total opposite of that! I didn’t stutter when I spoke, I’ve never failed to make eye-contact when I spoke to others; it was just that I didn’t like people. I don’t know, I’d always had this perception that people who don’t try are just nuisances; and that’s exactly what I’m seeing in all these useless and insignificant people around me at school. They either talk about getting their nails done, hair done, dates, who’s sleeping with who; all sorts of unnecessary and stupid dramas and gossips; things that won’t help us improve ourselves as human beings. That’s why I’d rather sit at home, curled up in bed; reading books whilst listening to Pink Floyd. Bob Dylan’s fine, too.  

But this was what I found interesting; even though I found myself restraining myself even more from other people, I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d meet H again. But whenever I remember that he was the first guy to has ever treated me with such brutality and that disgusting forehead kiss I'd received from him, I feel like jumping down a cliff all of a sudden -.-

A week passed by in a flash; and, as usual, not a care, damn or fuck was given by me to whatever was going on at school. “Guys will always torment and play around with your heart as long as you let them do so” Daddy would say to me every time my 18-year old sister, Vivien walks out of the door for her date.  God knows how many times she’d gotten her heart messed around with, but somehow she’d still do it. (Viv says it’s hope that gets her going; but all I see is sheer stupidity)

Anyways, so Monday morning came; with the routine weekly assembly, hangovers and Monday blues; everything went on like any other Mondays of my school year; or so I thought. It was during lunch break that our eyes met again. Yours truly was sitting quietly at table number 9; and if you readers were wondering; NO, not exactly the rejects’ table but let’s just say the whole table was monopolised by me. (I hate people, remember?) I was reading The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling (Fantastic read, I tell you!) when I felt a warm breath; purposely blowing down and tickling my neck. SHIT it’s happening all over again; I almost had the whole, heartbeat-too-fast and pale-face symptoms all over again.  But yes, this time I was much better prepared, so I mustered enough courage to ignore such weird and alien feelings going through me and turned around; only to find him sipping on his orange juice; smirking. The whole cafeteria was silent by now, all eyes on us.

“Can I help you?” were the only words I could utter without swinging my fists in his face.

“You most certainly can, V.” His smirk was getting wider; his face the mirror image of that meme-troll-face I keep seeing on the net.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool. It was almost as if he was testing my patience; first for interrupting my reading and two for calling my name as V; something NO one has ever called me before. Automatically, I’d turned my seat to face him without jeopardising or penetrating this invisible boundary line; one we both somehow, indirectly have agreed on respecting.

“Become my partner in the upcoming Phantom of the Opera musical and you’ll get a second chance at living” He continued, as he traced the outlines of the shape of my bag on the table. His face was hard to read, but he was now wearing a different sorta smirk, so I was guessing that he felt that victory was his.

“Was that a demand, an ultimatum or a threat, Haru?” I heard a huge gasp behind me as soon as I finished my sentence, which had caused me to almost turn away from him; before I felt a hand pulling me back.

“It’s a favour; I need you to do me this favour.” Then, as he finished his sentence, once again, another kiss on my forehead!  He walked away almost abruptly after that light peck on my forehead, and joined his whole gang before vanishing out of the cafeteria.

Like a total idiot, I stood there; face as red as ever; swearing inside my heart. I was cursing the same way I did when I ran away after our first encounter. There were whispers all around me now; eyes leering at me as I packed up to get back to class. GREAT, I should be careful with what I wish for after this!

Mr H. (part 2)

So back to how we first met, well, it was during the final period of class; on a rainy April noon; when all the prefects were called for an emergency meeting with all the teachers. We were all given specific group projects to finish, and I, being a people’s-hater, miss I-am-Superior-Than-Thou, decided to tackle such a project on my own ( with special permission of course), hence finishing the overall work earlier than anyone else. Second after second, minute after minute, it just got frustratingly boring to the point where I decided to just take matters into my own hands and explore the abandoned block next to our classroom block. Such action was almost made impossible by the class monitor, but I had managed to use my charms or in layman’s term; threaten him with several photos of him frolicking around with the teachers and got my permission pass. (I know, my school is screwed-up quite abit)

With my trusted ‘Class Pass’ hanging over my head, I trotted around the abandoned building with a never-ending fascination for the historical structure. The building was a beautiful faded-peach, with wooden frames seen here and there. It had served as a studio for the arts students of years 3 and 4 respectively, until a small fire engulfed a classroom on the top-floor. There were no reported injuries or deaths, but the principal decided that it was to be abandoned and demolished for fears of safety. Since then, no students were allowed to wander around that area. And, just as I’d decided to run back to class, I’d passed a small corner at which, I swore, I saw a pair of human eyes staring at me. At my own stupid curiosity, I back-tracked, only to feel a pair of strong arms pulling at my waist.  I wasn’t as frail and weak as people had perceived me, but my strength couldn’t match this person's. Also, I wanted to scream, but the rain was getting heavier and all efforts of such an action would’ve only gotten drowned by the pouring water. The building, the corner itself, wouldn’t echo, too.

It’d felt as if I were in a trance, because I’d totally forgotten everything else until I’d felt myself being pushed softly onto the wall. My eyes met those human eyes I saw earlier; and oh God they had to be the coldest I’d ever seen.  And the thing is, I’d never seen this peculiar person before; really! He was also standing dangerously close to me; to a point where I could feel his breath on my face; smelling of clorex mints and burnt-tobacco. He’d been smoking, and he wasn’t doing anything to hide the burning cigarette he was holding between his fingers. All he did was looked at me; and it was as if we were playing a staring competition. My heartbeat was so friggin loud, I knew he could sense that I was afraid. Swallowing hard, I looked away and bit my lip; the atmosphere was super tensed. I hated people for enough reasons already; I really didn’t need another one to be added to that never-ending list.

“Don’t be afraid. I won’t do anything. I’m just here for a ciggie-break.” His soft voice broke the awkward silence between us, and before I could say anything, slowly, in almost a register lower than a whisper, he said. “You won’t tell a soul, would you, Vera?”  Before I could bombard him with a million questions of all sorts, I felt a soft caress on my cheeks and a soft stare; making me even more flabbergasted. I was trembling in confusion now; I didn’t understand and I couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on at that moment.  I, literally, felt I was getting pale and supporting myself against the wall harder, fearing of collapsing there and then.

“It’s Haru. People call me H. Remember the name, Vera. You’ll be seeing me more often after this.”  And with that sentence and a kiss on my forehead, he parted from our close proximity and sucked on his cigarette.

Me? Oh I made my exit alright; running as fast as I could, cursing throughout my entire journey back to class; my heart pounding even faster than it normally would when I ran, both my foot stepping carelessly into the puddles of water. I was just braving through the heavy storm; all I wanted to do at that point was run to the classroom, get my stuff and go home. The class pass was wet but it wasn’t a concern; a cold was set to be visiting me that night but it just wasn’t as important as getting myself in the confines of my bedroom wall; my solace. I needed to be home, and I really just wanted to sleep such an encounter off. 

Mr H.

H is the initial to his first name, Haru.  Standing at an amazing 6'2”, I am indeed, a midget when we walk side-by-side. Mortals say ‘Tall, dark and handsome’, right?  But he’s more of ‘tall, tan-ish and...normal’ (Of course, I won’t admit that he’s.....Let’s just get on with the story)

We met, for the first time, in high-school, at some miserable, totally deserted, dead-end corner where I caught him smoking during school hours. His eyes resembled black diamonds although mysterious, with a perfect nose and small lips. Everyone knew his award-winning smirk, and he was, most-definitely, the school’s bad boy. Given that everything he did was being made a school affair, some girls establishing a fan-club devoted to him and only him, his parents being one of the richest families in the whole of Auresia (twice the size of Australia), he is, surprisingly, a very quiet and reserved guy.  Do note that I came to understand all this only AFTER we became close.

No one had ever held a proper conversation with him; or at least one that had lasted more than a good ten-minutes without being brushed off. Rumours were saying that he gets shy around girls, but this theory was proven to be totally untrue when he dazzled in the school spring musical in the first year of high-school; him taking on the role of Raoul, one of the protagonists; as well as the love-interest of the lead female, Christine Daae in Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel, Phantom of The Opera.  And as you’ve guessed it, I, the annoying, revolting, feisty, ugly and a devoted-antropophobic, played the beautiful, angelic-voiced, Miss Daae.  

(FINE FINE, H! Okay, H, I was lying; so maybe the beautiful, angelic-voiced was wrong to describe ME , but at least I tried singing, yes? J)

H. (introduction)

26th June 2012,
“when it all falls and the only one left up there; in denial, is me.”

*Strictly for people who speak sarcasm as their first language; DEFINITELY NOT for babies-in-denial*

You know; I’ve got a secret.

This is a simple secret I’ve always kept buried under my skin; as I fear that people would judge my parents for encouraging me to hold on to my childhood memories.  (Judge away, anyways. Like I really care now.)
But I’ve decided that maybe by writing it out, I might have a chance at a normal life; like everyone else; or at least try to. So there might be lips that utter ugly and horrifying words, there might be ears that listen without actually caring after reading this, but whatever the outcome is, I welcome any comments. After all, this post will still be mine, and your opinion; yours, yes? J

Not only did I re-discover my ability to completely ignore people as if they weren’t there, I’ve also found that I’m still capable of having an imagination; which also comes with my own, made-up imaginative characters.

As I am very much aware of the fact that I cannot stand people and vice versa; that I am very revolting to the eyes; that I only make everyone else’s life a big misery, I decided to just sit and live peacefully in the realms of Auresia. (Derived from the light phenomenon, AURORA)

At the moment, I’ve been living happily with H. H is my best friend; my make-believe best friend.  Whilst you’re all asking why have a best friend instead of a boyfriend, I say, WHY NOT?

I’ve lost many many people in my life; significant people. They’ve all drifted far from my grasp, because of mistakes I made, because of their egos. So, in the end, I am, as usual, alone, miserable, desperate for attention, lonesome, sad, angry, regretful, and just basically living in pure pain and confusion. Okay, so maybe that part was exaggerated. I am actually doing alright, it’s just that sometimes things happen and I just cry silently under my blanket.

All those stupid dramas aside, I’d like to talk about him tonight. I think I’ve been fairly calm and able to live like nothing bad is happening because of him. He deserves this, and I know that he isn’t just a make-believe character, he is real and is currently in search of me, too. J


26th June 2012,

Like a wilting rose,
Silently & slowly,
Bending down
And falling onto the ground

May it be the midnight dew,
The summer, July rain or
Even the monsoon hurricanes,
These tattoos of pain
Won’t go away.

What if I told you,
I cant feel my feet
Or chew my food?
What if I told you,
I don’t trust my judgements,
Or want to speak,
Would you believe me?

Being incapable of talking,
Being tired of listening
And being bored of boredom,
What is there left to life?

For once,
Let me travel my own mountains,
Get comfy under my own quilt,
And disappear.

I wont move,
From here,
From my fantasy world.

Because I’m more sheltered and wanted here.
Than in reality.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Motels and Gasoline

23rd June 2012
“Who will fight?”

Key-cards and bleached sheets,
I don’t know where we are.
You’d thrown away yesterday’s slurpee,
I’d burnt your last cigarette.
And embraced till dawn

The air smelled of detergent & smoke,
The warm June breeze is here.
I still don’t know where we are,
But you were holding my hand
And that’s all I needed.

The accord was clear
We’d be lovers at night,
Best friends in daylight
But forever,
You and me
Me and you

We were young, free and hopeful,
And we were rebellious.
And we’d sworn high up the sky,

You and me,
Me and you

Our destinies were far from reach,
This road trip would last forever,
You’d said it would.
You’d promised it would.

Refuelling, rerouting,
Everything was now too tiring
No more key-cards,
No more check-ins.

Tears, lies and ego
We never found;
Our final destination

Denver and Austin,
Port Villa and Oslo,
Guess it was all just
Innocent, raw, adolescent love.

And last stop.
Hearts at war,
Pain uncontained.
Screaming and shouting,
There was nothing more.

No more bumpy roads,
No more silent drives,
No longer you and me,
Me. You.

Guess my mama was right.


23rd June 2012
“And I told you to be balanced”

2 degrees Celsius,
Winter’s come once again
And I’ve forgotten my gloves.

Watching the clouds,
And staring at the aurora,
Pink and blue, green and yellow;
The northern lights are well-choreographed
I am content

Why did you have to come here?
When you’ve got warmth and shelter
When you’ve got love waiting
On the other side of the world

Yes, this coldness is enough.
No, this warm body is enough.

Yes, this silence would suffice
No, this noisy mind would suffice.

That vase of dead roses have broken,
That house will never be built,
There is no you and me.

Why have you come here?
When you’re unwelcomed,
When I’m unwanted,
When we’ve decided?

The grass is greener,
The lakes are clearer,
The oceans are deeper.

Leave me be,
My grey eyes can see better,
Through your colourless soul

Friday, June 15, 2012


Silence is a friend of mine.
It is a furry, vermillion creature.
It speaks in ciphers
Swears in the wind,
Laughs in time.

We play in the nursery,
With balls and building blocks,
We scream and we shout,
This tower shields us from anything
And everything.

At times, others knock on the nursery door.
I refuse to answer.
Life’s much better,
When it’s just it & I,
Silence & i.

Standing behind the line,
Of sophistication and what makes sense,
I am untouched
And it is unspoken.
And I am insignificant
And I am still laughing.
And I am content.

Please don’t knock.
No one can ever hear you.

Euro Trip

Your blue lips,
The world’s upside down!
And the galaxies are on the ground!
 My bloodshot eyes,
The sounds of unicorn crying,
And the queer voices all around.

Yes, yes!
Gliding purple hills and stagnant blue fairies,
Rain is about to come!
Of red hot droplets of fire,
We shall walk to the next civilisation,
Seeking refuge from pain

When shall we walk together?
Comprehending is confusing,
Laughter is inevitable,
 And the minds aren’t parallel.

Starvation for a new life,
We run towards the southern light
Hoping to find chances,
Only to realise
That we’d never moved
from our respective places
at all.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Tea Party with The Madman (part 2)

Let’s play hide and seek, sire
Your runs are as good as my guesses
This maze here is vast
But this brick of white pillow walls
Won’t lose to you

A litre of blood gone,
Whatever will you do?
Run, sire, run.
Make this more fun for me, too.

This is your last humour.
So laugh your soul out, sire.
For i’ll be the only one
With the last chuckle

Quite the game, i’d say.
You tried very hard,
My dark sarcasm did haunt you
Run,sire, run,
To the dead end upon those enclosed bushes

You’ve lost again, sire.
Another round?
But I see you reek of your own vile,
And you smell of more salt and rust.

What would you want to defend now,
Your left feet or arm?
But if I may, sire,
It doesn’t matter which one now.
For you,sire,
Shall lose all, eventually.
Amputated by your own curiousness
And courage
For walking into a madman’s lair.

Tea Party with The Madman

Ahh, you sir!
Come in, come in!
Would you like some tea, sir?
Such a wet, sunny night yesterday,
Such a hot rainy day today!

I don’t often have tea parties,
I seldom get company
I never invite.
So, for you sir; are a lucky man to be here!

We shall talk of ivory whales,
Fuchsia oceans and red skies.
Stories from our deepest faculties

I’ll tell.
And you’ll listen
Of stories over the rainbow,
with beheaded humans,
and decapitated rabbits.
And you’ll laugh
At my poppycock,
Until I tell you
Of how I skinned your brother alive.

Bars in, bars out.
Chained hands, tied feet
We can still have tea with our swollen lips.
Can’t we?

You’ll ask
In the midst of fear,
Where’s the sugar?

And I’ll answer
We need no sugar, sir
your blood is sweet enough.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Young, hopeful and heartbroken part 2

The weeks that came after that were a total, complete blur. I had never thought about settling all the necessary issues; like filing for a document of legal separation and dividing our assets; because I thought that we’d be together forever. It was already hard enough for me to wake up in bed alone every morning, not knowing the real reason why you’d left, and now it was time for me to face the even harsher reality; to put it on writing that we’d both separated for good in the eyes of the law.

The call from your personal and company lawyers were the ones that shocked me the most initially; when I was told that all of the assets we purchased together were all mine; and that included all of your shares in the company. It was more puzzling than ever, and that I could even ‘keep the dogs’. Most girls would’ve felt beyond happy for the least; that their ex-partners had left them a fortune after separating.

But me? I was different. I had always been from a family who had no issues with money, and believe me; I know too well that money couldn’t buy happiness. I know how obsessed and conceited my father became; evolving into an even bigger monster as his power and assets grew. Money and houses; women and mistresses; those were the pains and sufferings of my family.

 I saw how fame and richness broke my whole family apart; of how strong my mother was. She took all of the truth to her grave the day she decided to end it all; the day she took away her own life eight years ago. Money didn’t solve anything in the end; it couldn’t take away my mother’s ache for what my father had done. And I was as sure as hell; that any amount of money wasn’t gonna do the same for me this time.

Young, torn and tired; I decided to take one day at a time. To face reality at that moment felt like a never-ending torment; especially when I walk past the coffee shops we used to frequent together. The State Park; where we used to take our evening strolls downtown from our penthouse; I could never look at it the same way ever. Your hollow face kept reappearing in this weak mind; as if you were a ghost that didn’t get closure from his past human-life. I broke down almost every night; weeping and crying over and over again as I hugged our wedding album. There was nothing extra special about our wedding; it was the same, dull wedding theme with the only twist being our cake. But somehow, the memories of us and all the dreams we used to share together were just so vivid to me. At times, too vivid. A few nights after you left; I recalled getting up at 3:00 am because I heard the sound of the front door. I swear I heard it loud and clear; and when I ran out of the bedroom, I finally saw that it was just the balcony door banging since I’d forgotten to lock it.

I was falling from grace, slowly stumbling down my career ladder a few weeks after the incident. I started seeing several counsellors, life-coaches and even psychologists. The mask I was putting on in front of everyone; the family, society was cracking bit by bit, till I finally snapped at my mother’s death anniversary. That was also the day I literally fainted onto the perfectly manicured grass in just a blink of an eye. All that I could recall was my father telling his best friend of how much he had loved my mother and me feeling so pissed at my old man for telling such BS. The next thing I know...I was in my old room; on my bed with a weird, funny looking woman who seemed like she might’ve been a doctor.

“You’re seven weeks pregnant, Mrs James. Congratulations”

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Young, Hopeful and Heartbroken

27th of May 2012
12:35 am,
Misread-Kings of Convenience.

You never keep your promises. It’s always a constant game of tug-of-war with you; and my hands hurt too much already. I never know what you’re really up to. Sometimes I do regret that I’d stumbled upon your soft gaze that first time we met; you in your running shoes and me; enjoying the sweetness of doing nothing more than stare into the clear blue sky. You said ‘hi.’ I answered your greeting with a totally cold look; not wanting to engage any further in small talk with some random stranger who thinks electric yellow trainers were a perfect match to his neon blue running shorts. How I wish I could turn back the hands of time and erase all the memories that haunt me. If only I could.

Can you please tell me where I went wrong; why you ran? I tried to catch up with you, God knows that I tried! But you never stopped and I never saw the light in your eyes the moment you turned for one last time to look at me; with that hateful expression decorating your facial features and your almost-contradicting body language. Your pleading eyes told me of the thousand secrets you had kept all this while and yet the mask you wore that sad night forced me to acknowledge the harsh reality right in front of me; you were leaving and I couldn’t do a single damn thing about it.

Those haunting and pleading eyes of yours; whenever I look into them I feel as if I was reaching deeper into your confused soul; even though I didn’t understand the underlying alien feelings that were lurking within. I remember clearly as if it was yesterday, you were packing your suitcase and dumping all your designer clothes, your favourite Paul Smith tie I got for you for your birthday. It was 9:30pm on a stormy Friday night. We had initially argued about which coffee brand was better and I ended up suggesting that we should start drinking tea instead. You got rather annoyed; telling me that they weren’t even in the same zip code.  One thing led to another and out of the blue, you started screaming for god knows what. I, being a typical egoistical creature myself, for sure, yelled right back. I don’t know what happened next but from what I remembered was that you started to just pack your bag all of a sudden, going on some rampage, saying ‘just sell off this bloody penthouse, throw away all the furniture and burn the piano; cause we’ll never raise any child here together anyways’.

There, right there. That was your confession out in black and white; my biggest fear. It was such a hard path; being together with you. From all of those crazy parties you attend, your wild nights out with all those unknown, drug-induced women in the skimpiest of clothes when I was home waiting, and your hardcore obsession over every new drug available on the streets to being hunted here and there when those gangsters came to find us for the money your partners took and couldn’t pay. I had gone through AND to hell for you throughout the past, gone against my parents, threw a total fit just to break-off my engagement with that Phillip guy you called a ‘combination between a clown and a hippopotamus’. You had broken my heart for just countless of times, made me cry till I could only bleed out tears. You promised me forever, you promised that you’d change. And you did, eventually; or at least in terms of providing me financial stability. You had managed to build the most successful accounting firm in the whole of Auresia in a short time and you were only 24 when everything fell into place. But that was the only thing that changed; your lifestyle wasn’t going anywhere near the word.

But you know, a girl wants to believe the guy she loves; a girl hopes. And that girl, was indeed me. I’d stood by you for the whole six years because I believed in you, and I’d never stopped believing. Remember the day you took me to that carnival to ride the Ferris wheel? You told me that you wanted me to be with you forever; told me that you wanted me to be by your side as you faced your world that was like the Ferris wheel, it has its ups and downs. Those were the days, you know? The days that I’d thought that you were the sweetest most honest person ever; that I was the luckiest to have those pair of strong arms to hold me close and never let me go. Ahh, memories. Precious, sweet, innocent, genuine, painful, sad memories with you.

My love, what did I do wrong to deserve all this? After that confession, I knew I had tears in my eyes and you had pain in yours.  We were both arguing the same way we always did, and we were back to where we started. We were fighting the way we used to, the way we came to know of each others’ flaws. You asked where your perfume was, I said it wouldn’t matter. You asked where were the rings, I told you that I’d threw them off the balcony when you were busy packing; a lie I shouldn’t have made up. I was sobbing uncontrollably; you were punching the mirrors, breaking down the cupboard doors. My heart shattered into pieces that night, I trembled with every step I took as I ran after you, trying to get to the front door to stop; you ran with only a small luggage bag, your 48 pairs of dress shoes were still in your side of the walk-in wardrobe.  I begged and pleaded, told you I’d change, promised you a million things I once did before; reminding you of what we've gone through and all the crap we used to take for one another. I stood quietly behind you, my shaking hands pulling weakly on your charcoal Zegna trench-coat; I was completely quiet. You turned around to look at me for the last time, your eyes full of emotions I knew too well of; albeit your angered face.

You  offered me one last embrace; kissing my forehead and rubbing off those big droplets of tears off my cheeks. You told me that we couldn’t ever be together no matter what we did, no matter how hard we tried; we were just gonna be the death of one another.  The sudden rainy night became even worse as I felt a cool breeze enter the room from the balcony. I felt my world was crumbling down again, all OVER again. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair! Why is it that when I’d finally found love again, God was taking it away from me? I rebutted all your ugly words; your negative opinion and offered my point of view. I told you that I wouldn’t mind burning in hell for you, going through any sort of form of torture for you as long as you were by my side. ‘I love you! What other reason could there be?’ I screamed whenever you questioned my arguments. I saw you cry, I saw how it pained you to leave me at that very moment. Your ego was nowhere near the man I held in my arms, and for one last time, I knew the very figure that was in that house with me had genuinely loved me all this while; and would still love me from afar.

‘You don’t deserve any of this bull shit anymore, Amylia. I love you, God knows how much I love you but I can't. I am being unfair and selfish. I love you, my love. Don't you dare say I didnt and don't you dare think that I'll ever stop. You're my everything Amylia, but I'm sorry’ And with that and a long, goodbye kiss, you left me without looking back; as I saw for the very last time; the face of the only man I’d ever came to love in this lifetime.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

This year's love had better last

18th April 2012

This year's love had better last-David Gray

I've gone through such a hard few years, but I am thankful that I'm still standing up.

Though I've learned so much, I'm still left with many other fears and I've become more of a 'boring' person in that sense. *sigh*

I've stopped trusting and I've stopped caring; two of the worst things to ever give up on.

I guess this is for the better. Yes, somewhere along most my blogposts I have hinted and discussed about my past pain. This year, the birthday celebrations need not be a big one like the last few years have been; the only thing I want this year is to be able to sleep at 12 am and wake up feeling fresh for work the next morning.

I took out my birthday date from my Facebook profile; I'd thought that it was just going to be a nuisance when people start spamming my wall with short, ridiculous wishes like 'HB' or HEPPY BEZDAY or something like that.

This year, all I want is to be happy for once. Happy and content with my ownself, with my own company. I'm gonna blow my own candles and say happy birthday to myself. I highly doubt that anyone remembers, but that's okay; for once, I wish to be insignificant. I want to fade away, so that people won't talk and I won't get hurt for no solid reason.

I've given up too much for people; and I get upset when people don't do the same; and that is SELFISH of me. No matter how hard I say that what people say doesn't matter, at the end of the day those harsh words bother me in some ways.

The stinging feeling I have to bear all alone is hard, but it teaches you many things. People aren't always nice, and at the end of the day, we all should learn to set boundaries. I have gone too many betrayals and I, too, had stoop as low as they did just to protect my own rights and pride. So in the end, I will be a big girl, admit my faults, apologies and walk away for good.

This birthday is not just about being a year older, it's about maturing in mind, too. It's about finally getting my principles right, learning to protect my own heart above the rest. It's about knowing my limits; it's about setting boundaries with people. It's about loving myself more, about never putting anyone above me. It's about letting go and pushing all the pain away and moving forward.

It's about believing that God loves you no matter what happens. It's about trusting that you'll get a better future ahead. It's about being strong for yourself and saying that you'll get through this.

"Get up, Alia. You'll get through anything if you just believe."

and believe.


Alia Rujhan

Sunday, April 15, 2012

part 30

“Do you believe me now when I said that I’d do anything for you?” David smiled as he approached the now emotional Natalia, who’d just managed to separate herself from her brother’s bear hug just a moment ago. The girl was clearly an emotional wreck now; her big eyes all red and puffy as if she were mourning for a dead husband and Nathan on the other hand rocking on the same look with as his sister; minus the tears. He seemed to be as confused as ever as he hugged his teary-eyed girlfriend.

“I told you that you’d tear up just as well.” Nathanial cried as he wrapped his arms around the gorgeous 5’7” girl; her shoulder-length, jet-black hair dancing in the direction of the wind. “It’s just that it’s so amazing that she’s the spitting image of you; if I didn’t know you I would’ve thought that she was your twin-sister.”

“How rude of me; I’d forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Audra Atkins.” The taller girl greeted her, extending a hand. Natalia accepted it happily; offering a friendly hug in the process. “Yes, yes. You’re the aspiring model Nathan was telling me about over the phone few weeks ago. I’m Natalia. I’m so pleased to meet you.” David left the two girls to chat about as he walked with Nathan to check-in. They were booked in two of the Royal Over Water Two Bedroom Pool Vila of the St Regis Bora-Bora Island; one of the most exquisite and extravagant places to stay; with crystal clear water surrounding their entire view. David was happy; his plan was a complete success. Natalia had no mask of any sort on her face now; all she had on was her beautiful and sincere smile; and he was definitely the one to take pride in making that face happy.


Once everything was finalised, the four of them retreated to their respective villas; all jet-lagged and awfully tired from the journey of travelling and stopping over many places for refuelling. David had purposely asked for the two bedroom villa since he knew well of his position in Natalia’s life and although they've always bunked in together,he didn't want to be seen as taking advantage of the whole fucked up situation back in Melbourne. It wouldn't hurt to be extra cautious, no?

“Is it okay if we shared the same room? You know how I don’t like sleeping alone in strange beds.” David knew too well what she meant; so he nodded as he started to unpack his luggage. That was the second when he felt small arms encircling his waist; and he felt the familiar body warmth pressed up behind his back. “What’s wrong sweetie?” He muttered softly as he continued with his unpacking. “Dave? Thank you so much. You have NO idea how much all this means to me.” David smiled; he knew the brunette was tearing silently as he felt tiny droplets soaking up his t-shirt. He knew how hard it was for the two of them to meet up; just like how hard it was for her to trust him with her deepest darkest secrets. “ Hey, hey! Don’t get cocky, woman! I did this for me! I wanted to go diving with you and I know you that you hate diving so I’m only dragging Nathan and Audra just as to get you to join in,too.” He was lying through his teeth, but Natalia ignored him. Instead, she let go and walked in front of David, pulling him towards the king bed; kissing him all the way through.

“Mmm... princess?”


"What’s this for?”

“Your reward.”

“I don’t want one.”

“Wow, why not?”

“Let’s just enjoy our time now, okay?”

“What do you mean, Dave?”

“I’d...I’d like to you.”

Natalia’s jaw almost dropped, but before she could say anything else, David scooped her off her feet and walked towards the private pool.

“OMG NOOO YOU’RE NOT THROWING MEEEEEE!” She was already screaming and giggling loudly; attracting attention from Nathan and Audra who came by their villa to hurry inside to see what the commotion was about. Ignoring the fact that they were now the centre of attention, David kissed Natalia’s lips softly, and as she attempted to deepen the kiss, he threw her into the pool.

part 29

“That’s your forth ciggie, Tal.”

“What are you, my mother? And stop calling me Tal! Talia is short enough already!”

The brunette spat right back as if on auto-reply mode; as her mouth blew out clear, white smoke. David only managed to shake his head; before succumbing to temptation of pouring himself a glass of red wine. The young couple were now chilling in the garden; both acting like the incident prior to the tea-party meant nothing to neither of them. Beautiful hardenbergias and luculias were seen decorating almost every corner of the green scenery, with the occasional daphne flowers in between the lot. Winter was in its full bloom, and yet one could’ve easily mistaken the weather for being late spring; especially with the specks of sunlight beaming through the clouds that were currently over-crowding in the evening sky. It was during teatime when Natalia decided to use it as the best excuse to go outside and have wagyu beef instead of scones accompanied by, of course; red wine. David knew better that it was just another opportunity the brunette had to seize since no one was at home and smoking was apparently permissible on the compound. Those were one of the few things her parents would have never agreed to; their young daughter smoking in the estate; which he found to be very odd. His opinion was indeed logical and favourable; since the girl was crazy from the start and had done so many bad things in the past and is definitely capable of many other malicious and nasty acts; why stop her from doing the smallest of sins which was smoking; right? He shook his head in silence as he took a sip of wine.

“This is exquisite, Talia. It’s similar to the wine we had on your 16th birthday, yes?”

“Yes, that was mother’s idea of ‘making the party more adult-ish’.”

David raised his left eyebrow as he finished his meal; savouring the sensations his taste buds were experiencing as the piece of wagyu cheek melted in his mouth; paying no mind towards the girl. It had been roughly four hours since the incident happened; since the infinite girl-world declared war. David thought that Natalia was going to keep moping and be all dramatic after what had happened, but instead she decided to learn how to make ‘Indonesian-styled fried rice’ OF ALL THINGS AND WITH HIM OF ALL HER BRILLIANT 5-STAR CHEFS! She was clearly going out of her mind in his opinion, but as long as she wasn’t putting a long-face in front of him; it didn’t matter of what she was feeling on the inside. She’s a handful already; and she will eventually tell him (regardless of WHEN) so there was really no use of trying to crack her open. He knew that too well already, so for now, he decided to just ignore any curiosity building up in his mind and enjoy the food.

“Dave? When does your semester starts?”

“In a few days’ time. Why?”

“Are you planning to go uni for the first few days?”

David laughed at the girl’s reply. Of course, he knew that she knew the answer already; and somehow he knew where this conversation was going.

“It still amazes me at how stupidly naive you’re making yourself sound by asking me such questions you already have the answers to.”

“It amazes me at how you manage to take up a double degree, not attend classes nor tutes and yet still score High-Distinctions.”

“The same principle applies to the previous statement I made about you. You’re such a show-off, woman; you should really stop flaunting what others already know you have.”

Natalia smirked as she heard his reply; the two of them at another one of their ‘I-am-better-I-am-superior-than-you’ games.

“What did you have in mind, Talia?”

“Where do you wanna go, Dave?”

“Can we discuss this later? I want to enjoy the breeze and food first.”

“More like the wine.”

David smiled slyly; he had a plan at the back of his mind, and he knew too well of where they should head off for their ‘short’ vacation.


“Now can I open this stupid blindfold yet? I can smell the salty sea-breeze in the air, you know? I know we’re somewhere near the beach" The girl kept asking the handsome chap for the 30th billion time; trying to annoy him to wits ends so that he’d end up finally agreeing to let her see the surprise destination they were at. She could feel the wooden flooring underneath her feet; she knew almost immediately that they were already there; wherever they were. It was only a mere 48 hours ago that they had talked about going somewhere; but it didn’t occur to her that David took the vacation idea rather too seriously or even go to this extent of surprising her.

What got her annoyed was that he gave her strict orders of what to pack as if he was her mother, and then decided to kidnap her all of a sudden without telling her a single word about the trip. All she remembered was packing and waiting; when someone came by the estate and choloroformed her (or rather blindfolding her, sticking ear phones into her ears with Pink Floyd’s songs on full blast which made other noises mute to her, tying her hands although loosely and throwing into the limo without her total consent) and the next thing she knew, she was already in the confines of the Leigh’s private jet.

Not only that, David was being an even bigger a-hole when he had refused to breathe even the slightest of hints of where their destination was. Even the cabin crew wouldn’t tell her where they were heading. She’d never felt so irritated her whole life, especially with the blindfold and the earphones. This game didn’t seem fun; especially when she had to promise David that she’d just accept whatever that was going to happen. Natalia definitely wasn’t the kind to actually follow orders, but since David spoke to her in this scary tone as in that he’d literally kill her if she messed up or got some smart ideas of trying to misbehave; so she decided to play the nice girlfriend/daughter role.

“I told you earlier right? I told you specifically to pack your dive gears. Obviously we’re heading to the beach! Geez, since when did you become soo....stupid?” He smiled as he pulled the girl closer to him and hugged her from the back. A playful smile was clearly seen on planted on her face, and she began to relax as she felt their bodies swaying to the rhythm of the incoming sea breeze.

“David, what do you think you’re doing?! Can’t you wait till we get into a bloody room first?” Her voice echoed the stillness of the atmosphere, and before she could turn and hug him right back, he let her go. “Hey, come back here! You’re such a tease, Dave!” She stood there for a while, her hands still searching for his figure, but it proved to fail miserably. “David?David. Come on, this isn’t funny you know!” She shrieked as she started to walk slowly and even worse, without knowing in which direction she was heading. Stopping almost abruptly, she decided to pull her blindfold, before suddenly feeling a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her.

She knew too well that it wasn’t David; the scent this body wasn’t David’s; this figure was definitely not his, but it felt all sensual and calming; so she ignored her inner protests and decided to give in; sinking into this stranger’s embrace. Deep down, she’d wanted to scream her hearts out, wanted to beat up this alien figure with all her might, but she kept telling herself to not do anything rather too drastic in fear of having being killed or something. (Yes, her mind does many mind-fucking tricks to scare her logic sometimes)

It was then when she felt someone pulling on her blindfold, and the next thing she saw was a woman she’d recognised from all the photos on Facebook; standing a few metres away from her; this girl staring right back at her, crying as the latter struggled to smile back at the brunette. Oh no, she wasn’t mistaken alright; she knew who that face belonged to.

Almost immediately and automatically, she screamed her heart out as tears started streaming down her cheeks. She knew who this embrace belonged to, it was his. It was Nathanial Adams, in flesh and blood. His midnight-blue eyes greeted her with the prettiest of shines, his face looking as excited as ever. Time seemed to stop for a while; the other people around them didn’t matter. She couldn’t even comprehend of what was happening around her! It wasn’t real; this couldn’t be real. Natalia felt her whole biological system stop all their functions and she, herself, had literally stopped breathing. This didn’t seem right, it must be a dream. She kept pinching herself as Nathanial stared into her chestnuts, stroking her cheeks. At this point, the two siblings were hugging each other loosely; and he seemed to be reluctant of letting the brunette go; so he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much, beautiful” He whispered softly into her temple. There was a different warmness in the air; and she’d felt so happy her heart could burst. Big fat tears kept streaming down her cheeks as she quietly hugged her brother, her soul thanking the Lord above for this wonderful sudden surprise. It wasn’t just the beautiful crystal clear waters and the white sandy beach that had taken her breath away, but it was also this human hugging her so close, as if he’d refused to let her go. It was her brother that she was holding in her arms, and for the first time in so long, she’d felt so much love over-whelming her veins.

‘Thank you, Dave. Thank you.’ Her heart whispered as she finally caught the glimpse of David standing on her left corner.