The Colour Red

“Mommy?”

“Hmm…?”

“What does red look like?”

I glanced up, wondering how on earth to explain something so simple.

“Mommy? Are you listening?” she asked again, my beautiful little girl. She stared up at me.

“Yes sweetheart,” I answered, “Well, remember the time when you accidentally spilt hot tea all over yourself?”

“Uh-huh…”

“That’s how it looks like,” I smiled.

“So it’s burning?”

“Uh-huh,” I ruffled her hair fondly.

“Oh…” her eyes thoughtful as she went back to brushing her doll’s hair.

I gazed at her, feeling a jabbing pain in my heart, wishing I could do more for her. I had always scorned my mother’s protectiveness. I always thought she was being over-protective and was constantly wincing at her actions. Now, I realized, it was something she couldn’t stop. It was there, whether she, herself, liked it or not. I realized that I was repeating her actions towards my daughter. The feeling of wanting to shield her from everything and just keep her within her happy little bubble was natural and I couldn't stop it. As I took in her perfect features once more, I felt an overwhelming sense of love welling up within me. She had her father’s straight, dark hair. Otherwise, she was a complete copy of me. Except for her eyes. Again, the feeling of my inability to do more filled me. Her eyes were a mysterious cloudy, grey color. You see, my sweet little baby was blind.

I recalled the very first time I saw her. My husband at my side as I screamed as the pain ripped through me. However, I knew it was worth it as I heard the cries of my baby for the very first time.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Toh, you have a baby girl!” a relieved and tired doctor announced. Tears began to flow down my face, “Let me see her!” I held out my trembling hands as I impatiently waited for the nurse to wrap her up. She was covered in blood and was nothing more than a tiny thing, no bigger than a stuffed toy, all wrinkled. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I held her tight, whispering “I love you” over and over again in her ears.

Weeks past, we begin to notice something was terribly wrong. “Why hasn’t she opened her eyes doctor?” my own eyes wide with fear. My husband beside me held on to my hands, quietly giving me assurances, trying to calm himself at the same time.

The doctor cleared his throat nervously, “Well, I can’t say for sure but sometimes, certain babies tend to take slightly longer than normal to open their eyes. But I’m sure that there is nothing wrong with your child. She seems to be a rather active one, so she should be fine.”

He was right. She soon opened her eyes. But they were a wrong color.

We tried everything, from modern to traditional medicine, but there was no changing the fact that my child was blind. How and why, we’ll never know. However, she was still our perfect little baby.

“Mommy?” my child asked again.

“Hmm…?”

“What color is the sky?”

“It’s blue sweetheart.”

“Oh…” she thought about it for awhile, her brows drawn together, “What does blue look like mommy?”

I grinned. It would take a long time before this conversation would end. “Well sweetheart, remember the water you showered in…”

Happiness

“I like him. I really do,” I said, not daring to meet your eyes, “But he isn’t the one who will make me happy.”

“Isn’t happiness something you decide?” you smirked at me, “Just make yourself believe you’re happy, like you always do,” you said, so calmly, like it didn’t bother you.

I glanced up for a second, meeting your eyes, before letting my eyes dart away. I didn’t say a thing. How could I? You’ve already made up your mind and I should have known by now that this was nothing more than a fling. Still, the ache in my heart refused to stop hurting.

“What’s up? Why the sad face?” you studied my face. I shook my head. “I need to go,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. I untangled myself from your arms, suppressing a shiver from the sudden chill. I looked around the room, looking for my missing clothes.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your hair in disarray, causing you to looking even more arresting. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything…” your voice trailed off, unsure of how to respond to my sudden coldness.

I ran a hand through my already bedraggled hair. “What if I can’t?!” I spun around, tears stinging my eyes. “What if I can never be happy with him? No matter how much I try to make myself believe it?” my heart was thumping furiously as I pulled on my clothes. How could you not understand? “What if you’re the only one who can make me happy? Then what?”

You stared up at me, stunned. “I…I…” your brows furrowed.

Frustrated, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the room, not even bothering to look back.

“Meina! Wait!”

“What for? I’m just wasting time here!” I cried out.

“I’m sorry,” your arms came around me and held me tightly. “I can’t. This is the best I can do. I thought you understood.”

“So did I,” my voice barely above a whisper, "So did I, Leo," I struggled out of your arms and run out the door, knowing but refusing to acknowledge that I would come back sooner or later anyway.

Buried Under

"It's called 'soul murder'. That's what you're talking about, aren't you?" her hushed tones, afraid to break the silence. Amber eyes stare back at yours, waiting in anticipation. You look at her, tears forming at the corner of your eyes, unable to answer her. "Oh god..." she whispered, reaching out to hold your now trembling form, "Oh god, my baby." She cries for you, crying the tears that you refuse to let go of, holding you tightly, as if you would slip away.

Then again, you might. Just so that it would all go away; the unwanted memories that terrifies and shakes the very core of your heart. Because even though you said you're all over it now, you still can't believe that it happened to you. Till today, you can't bear to say the word out; you can't bear to tell others what happened to you. It's a heavy burden and a huge secret that you carry. One that you can't really tell others in fear of their reactions.

Some might pretend that it never happened. But you know differently. No matter how much you try to hide from it, or how far you can run from it, you know that it'll always come back. And you can't do anything to stop it. You can cover your ears and close your eyes; you can probably pull the covers over your head as well. But it'll still be there, waiting, haunting you, and never releasing you from its claws.

Others might pity you; sympathy in their eyes every time they look at you. Trying to understand what you're going through, or worse; pretending to know what you're going through. But they don't really understand; they don't really know. They can try, but they will never. And you'll hate it. Being pitied, having others pretending to understand. You just want to scream at them and call their bluff. The hypocritical people who only wish to help.

Certain people might hide from you. They'll run away, leaving you even more lonesome and insecure than before. But you can't stop them. They have a right to choose; free will, which sometimes isn't that great after all. You start doubting yourself, and stop trusting everyone. You’ll barricade yourself in, refusing to let anyone see within you. Hiding from everything and anything, losing yourself in the process. But then again, you'll never know. Not until you tell them.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Old Flames and Passionate Nights Series

The Morning of Yesterday

 You walked in; heels dragging on the rosewood floorboards, shoulders slumped. You looked as though you have not slept well in days; world-weary and wanting to give up. I sensed your presence way before I saw you. What was it that made you so special?

“Hey…” you sighed, as you dumped yourself on the wooden stool, “What’s the strongest thing you have here?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Drinking away your problems? That’s new.”

“Yeah well, that’s all I can think of right now. And there’s something about this place that somehow makes me feel better.”

“Huh… Even so, you shouldn’t be drinking the problems away.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Can you just get me the strongest thing you have?”

I shook my head as I got to work; my body moving automatically after months and years of practice. I wondered briefly if you still like lemon-flavored drinks.

“Here,” I said, slamming the whiskey glass on the table, spilling some of the mix, “Enjoy,” sarcasm evident in my voice. You looked up, shocked.

“You know I can complain to your boss about this,” you said haughtily, spoiling for a fight.

“Well, go ahead, ‘cause she’s standing right in front of you,” I shot back.

Your eyes widened. Obviously, nobody kept in touch with you. “You own this place?”

“Yeah, anything wrong with that?” I challenged, raising my chin.

“No… No… I just thought… well that this was temporary… that you’d go back doing your PhD…” you struggled to make sense of it all.

“As I said, people change.”

“That’s obvious,” you eyed me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time in years. Defiance swept through me. A bar job had requirements and one of them was the skimpy clothes.

“So,” I leaned forward, “What’s bothering you? You never drank your problems away before.”

“Problems… Trina… You know the rest…” you mumbled, as you picked up the whiskey glass and sniffed it carefully, “Hey… this smells lemony!”

I shrugged, “Sun under the Tropics; another house special,” I paused for a moment, “Actually most of our drinks are special. Of course we do offer the usual though.”

You sipped the mixture cautiously, as if you expected it to explode anytime soon, “What’s in here? It tastes like lemon juice…”

I smirked, “Maybe because it is?” I turned and walked away, “You shouldn’t be drinking your problems away. Get up and solve them,” I said to you as I walked away, leaving you there speechless.

You left your drink on the bar as you run after me, “What time do you end? Can I take you out?”

I cocked an eyebrow, “Does the phrase ‘You have a girlfriend’ ring a bell in your thick head?”

You stepped back stunned. You did not expect the harsh tones or the cruel words. “Hey, I was just asking. If you don’t want to then it’s fine with me. Didn’t need that,” you bit out, before turning around, “Wished I hadn’t come,” you muttered as you grabbed your coat and walked out of my bar.

Once again, I stared at your receding back, torn between the desire to run after you and the need to walk away like did before.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Stay Gold Forever

We sat there, me chugging on my Starbucks Vanilla Latte, you on your Mocha. I lit a cigarette up and took a deep breath. You wrinkled your nose, hating the "disgusting cancer-making stench of smoke". You didn't say anything though. Even if you did, you knew it would fall on deaf ears. JLS played on the speakers as we sat there not talking, watching the world pass by. I had so much to say to you, to ask you, but back then, I couldn't form the sentences I needed to speak. We had too little time left; it was running out.

"Found myself asking
What are you waiting for?
'Cause everyday I love you a little bit more

"I like this song," you broke the silence, "Feels nostalgic, doesn't it?"

I nodded and took another puff.

"Ironic isn't it?" you asked wryly, "Me, oh-so-healthy, has no time left, and you who wants to die, have a long way ahead."

I stared at him, not knowing whether to grin or frown, not knowing if it'll turn into another round of depression.

"Do you ever wonder why?"

I jiggled my leg and took another puff, "I guess it's 'cause of 'His Will be done' and all that jazz."

You chuckled, a sound I hadn't heard in a while. "So what?" you asked, "How is that fair?"

I could see the fear in your eyes.

"I'll be forgotten. Just another somebody who died. Nobody will remember me. Y'all will carry on with your lives and move on. 'Cause I'll just be another somebody who kicked the bucket."

I opened my mouth to say something as 'The Wanted' cut in.


We could rule the world someday, somehow
But we'll never be as bright as we are now.

We're standing in a light that won't fade,
Tomorrow's coming but this won't change,
Cause some days stay gold forever.
The memory of being here with you,
Is one I'm gonna take my life through,
Cause some days stay gold forever.

Both of us stared at the speakers in shock.

Butterflies, butterflies..
We were meant to fly,
You and I, you and I..
Colours in the sky,
When the innocence is dead and gone,
These will be the times we look back on.

We're standing in a light that won't fade,
Tomorrow's coming but this won't change,
Cause some days stay gold forever.
The memory of being here with you,
Is one I'm gonna take my life through,
Cause some days stay gold forever.

I won't, I won't
Let your memory go
Cause your colors they burn so bright,
Who knows, who knows
What tomorrow will hold
But I know that we'll be alright

Cause some days stay gold forever.

The song faded out and I smirked at you, "I think God just answered you."

That was last month. I said 'goodbye' to you last week. I still keep the memory of you with me, because some memories stay gold forever.

Picture By: Royston Toh ; Trinity

Story Inspired By :
The Wanted ; Gold Forever
JLS ; Love You More

Beauté

“Has anyone told you, you’re beautiful?”
I stared at you, cocking an eyebrow, “Countless. And only ’cause they want something.”

“I mean that they mean it when they say it,” you narrowed your black eyes at me. I never knew that one could have coal black eyes like yours.

I laughed, “No one mean anything they say sweetheart, unless they are bitchy.”

You glared at me, annoyed that I wasn’t taking the conversation seriously. “Can’t you ever be serious? Must you always take everything as a joke?”

I raised my eyebrows, slightly stunned by the seriousness and frustration in your tone. “Well, I’m sorry, but that wasn’t necessary,” I stood up and started to leave.

“Yeah, go on, leave. Run like the coward you are,” you sneered.

I shuddered at the venom in your voice, wondering what had gotten into you. You were normally quite easy-going. Whatever brought about this change in attitude must have been something huge. “Whatever!” I shot back, refusing to let you have the last word.

Picture by: Royston Toh

Piano

Faint strains of the piano tinkled in the background. Her slender fingers skimmed across the keys, belting out a cheerless, melancholic tune. The stale stench of cigarettes and alcohol hung in the air. Dusty lamps cast a warm orange glow around the room, lighting up certain areas, darkening the already shadowy corners. The usual crowd had thinned due to the harsh weather. Most would rather stay home in front of the cozy fireplace with their family, drinking a steamy cup of hot chocolate. The only ones left were the loners, who had gotten so drunk that the barman had to kick them out before they cause a ruckus.

That lone barman now stood silently behind the bar polishing the beer cups with a grubby looking rag in a feeble attempt to appear busy. Swaying slightly to the sorrowful melody, he stacked the dusty cups behind the counter and began to polish the wooden counter-top. The ballad stopped in mid-tune as the lady reached up to adjust the microphone.

From afar, you’d think that there was nothing special about her. Up close, however, men and women alike were stunned by her subtle beauty. She wasn’t much of a head-turner, but there was a quiet grace about her in the way she walked, sat or just simply asked for a mug of beer. She made it sound like she was asking a favour instead of the usual demanding tone you’d normally hear from a buyer. Her hair was a flaxen colour which hung halfway down her back. It was mostly tied up or plaited, but kept out of her face all the same. She was petite and her eyes were in the most peculiar shade of green; at times it was a deep emerald colour, others, it was a clear turquoise shade. Her voice was gentle and dulcet, her snub nose and slightly full lips fitted her tiny, pale heart-shaped face.

The music commenced once more, she played a different song this time. Its tune however, held the same desolated, morose feel as the one before as she begin to sing a song never heard of before; her song:

I remember the time when you told me
That you couldn’t get enough of me
Even though we had just part
Did you know that those words touched my heart?

I remember that day you told me
That the best day of your life
Was everyday that you saw me
Did you know how blissful that made me?

I remember everything about you
Do you remember things about me too?
In my heart you’ll always be
Even though we’ve already part
I know I shouldn’t be saying this but
I miss you

I remember how you used to call me every night
But slowly, those calls somehow stopped
And even when I tried to call you
You couldn’t be bothered to talk

I remember everything about you
Do you remember things about me too?
In my heart you’ll always be
Even though we’ve already part
I know I shouldn’t be saying this but
I miss you

Now you’ve moved on, I see you with her
Does she make you laugh like I used to?
I see you holding her hand so tightly
And I really hope that you’re happy
Cause I know I’ll never be

Glass Heart

“It’s broken,” she said it simply, emotionlessly. Her long legs folded beneath the skirt of her torn dress. The cerulean color set off her brilliant azure eyes. Her gold ringlets, which lay in disarray, hung half-way down her back. Her tiny, gentle hands were bruised and bloodied. Still, she did not hesitate. Grasping the broken shards which lay on the marble floor, she moved them around, sliding them up and down; trying to piece them back together.

“What is it?” I asked, my hushed voice breaking the deafening silence. She looked up and gazed deeply into my eyes with her glittering cobalt ones, dotted with sapphire specks. For a moment, I felt as if time had stopped, leaving me and her trapped in its abyss. “Don’t you know?” she asked in her faint voice, detachedly. Dropping her gaze, her bleeding hands continued to slide the shattered pieces around. Warm, crimson blood smeared the marble floor, her hands shook with every movement.

“Don’t!” agony and confusion pierced through my voice, “Don’t,” I croaked. Grief coursed through me, as my legs unable to stand no longer, gave out under me. She looked up at me once more, startling me with her wet eyes and trails of tears slipping down her alabaster face. “I can’t fix it,” she choked out, panic and fear clinging to every word spilt from her full, coral lips. “It’s okay. It’s alright,” I pulled her towards me, holding her thin body, trying to believe my own words. Wet, salty droplets fell from our eyes as we sat there hugging each other, giving each other strength and assurance.

************************************************************************

The blood I saw from the last time no longer sullied the beautiful marble floor. She wore the same dress from the last time, but no longer torn. Her golden ringlets, however, still lay in disarray on her back. Her hands, healing, held scars and scabs from the cuts. The broken shards were blunt and less threatening and her eyes held a different light, more optimistic from the last time. The broken pieces were half-fixed; parts unable to be mended scattered around.

“I’m not sure how to fix the rest,” she grins sheepishly. I laughed, loud and unrestrained, happiness bubbling out from me, “It’s alright, take your time.” She looked at me, assessing me, as if she was trying to figure out if I truly meant what I had said. Then she beamed, “Okay.” Relief streamed into my body, my eyes filled up with tears as hope saturated my being. “We’ll fix it,” I smiled a watery smile at her. Her fragile fingers brushed my tears away as she nodded. “What is it?” I asked once more. Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding, right?” she tittered nervously. I frowned, bewilderment filled me. She smiled wryly and shook her head. “You’ll see,” she said mysteriously, “You’ll see.”

************************************************************************

Her hair no longer in tangles, her hands no longer held those horrifying scars. Glass shards no longer covered the cool, stone floor. In its place lay an exquisite mirror that no words could ever describe the fullness of its beauty. “It’s done,” she let loose an excited laugh. “We managed to fix it after all!” Exhilaration reverberated in her voice. I giggled, echoing her enthusiasm.

Despite everything, confusion nagged within me. “You haven’t answered me, actually. What is it?” I gazed deep into her eyes, mystified by the magnificent mirror. She stared at me, gaping; stunned. “Don’t you know?” her jaw seemed to be incapable of closing. Silently, she took my hand and led me to the mirror, “What do you see?” she asked gently. I gasped, my hand reached out to touch the image before me, an image of me, smiling with the color high in my cheeks. “Me,” I breathe out, “Me!” I giggled delightfully.

She nodded, her curls bouncing in the light, “It’s us, just as we should be. When he left us, we didn’t think we could survive. But as time passed, we stood up again.” She smiled, “Love can tear you apart, but it also put you back together.”

Because when love breaks, love also heals.

Infatuation

He looks at me with eyes filled with infatuation

Just a little push

It can be turned into love

Oh, I’m so tempted

He’d be sweet

And good for my broken soul

For once I’d be able to speak my mind

For I won’t feel afraid

All we’d do are sunset walks

Holding hands

Whispering sweet nothings

He’s only thirteen

I can’t do that to him

For I look at him

With infatuation filled in my eyes as well

He knows it

As do I

Love’s too quick to say

Infatuation’s all there is

But I guess that’s just another one of those heart-stopping crushes for you

What would everyone say?

I’d be shunned I guess

Everyone would be stunned

But that’s just me I guess

Centre of attention

Stealing everyone’s breaths

My heart’s pumping

Even as I say this

It’s thumping

Like it’s going to pop right out of my chest

But I guess that’s just another one of those heart-stopping crushes for you

He messes up my head

I wonder if I do that to him as well

He takes my breath away

I can’t help but smile for the rest of the day

For once I’m jumping out of bed once more

For once I’m ready by seven o’ clock

I can’t wait to get to school

I start humming senseless love songs under my breath

But I guess that’s just another one of those heart-stopping crushes for you

And I can’t help but

To fall freely for him

He looks away when I look at him

But he’s drawn to me, I know that

I look at him with questions in my eyes

Wondering if we’d be able to make this strange love

Or perhaps we wouldn’t stand a chance at all

After all, he’s only thirteen

And I am, unfortunately, sixteen

But I guess that’s just another one of those heart-stopping crushes for you

Old Flames and Passionate Nights Series

The Beginning of The End

“What happens if I leave and you’re wrong?” you glared at me, voice loud, making me cringe. I stood there stunned. Never once have you ever dare to raise your voice at me. Defensive, I crossed my arms. “I don’t care. Go on then, leave,” my voice challenging, refusing to believe that you’d actually leave me.

“Fine!” you said your tone straining against your anger. Turning around, you walked away, away from me and out of my life. Hurt and disbelief echoed within me. They quickly turned into anger. “Fine!” I screamed at your receding back, “Fine! Leave! Just leave!” I turned and ran, as far as I could from the place. Wanting and wishing with all my heart that it was just a nightmare; that it did not happened. But you did not see. You were too busy leaving me.

Days passed, turning into months and finally into years. Each day I wondered what would have happened, had I ran after you. I wondered if we would still be together, if we could be that couple I saw just the other day, happily shopping for groceries. I never had the courage to face up to it. You were the one for me and there could be no other. No one else could be as giving to my unreasonable ways as you. I never dared to pick up the phone to dial your number. The number you left on my table, asking me to call you, asking if we could talk.

It’s too late for regrets now.

It was another day at work. Despite a university education, I had opened a bar, much to my parents’ horror. ‘Old Flames’, I had christened it. You brought her in, the perfect girl, who would make you happy, who would complete your life. Glancing up, I didn’t see you at first, not till it was too late to run. “Oh… hey…” shock and disbelief clear on your face. My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe it. “Hey…” I managed, looking into your eyes, the eyes I remembered so clearly.

“Dan, what’s taking you so long?” she came up beside you, her eyes curiously darting from me to you.

“Erm… Trina, this is Abriella, from my secondary school and junior college,” you gave yourself a mental shake, gesturing to me.

“Hi,” she said far too brightly, “I’m Dan’s girlfriend. Pleased to meet you,”

I glanced at you before smiling slightly at her, “Hi,” I nodded, “So… what can I get for you guys?”

“Umm… well… what do you recommend?” she asked, in a sugary sweet way. Funny. I never thought you’d fall for this kind.

“For starters, you might like to try the ‘Fire’s Spit’. It’s easy on the alcohol. But if you’re looking for something hard, you could try the ‘Burn’. However, if you’re feeling really daring, you might want to try one of our house specials, ‘Passion’.” I rattled off without thinking much.

I remembered how we only had eyes for each other. Was it the same now?

“Oh… Well… I suppose I’ll have the ‘Fire’s Spit’ then,” she said, oblivious to the electricity that passed between us. The memories rooted us to the spot, “What about you Dan?” she looked up at you with adoring eyes. It was clear to any passer-by that she was deeply in love with you. As you should have been with her.

“Umm… Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “I’ll take you up on your house special,” you stared deep into my eyes, challenging me, daring me to speak out.

Lucky for you, I took the challenge, “Daring aren’t we? Or do we just need some liquid courage tonight?” I raised an eyebrow. Turning to your girlfriend, I smirked, full of spite for her, “He’s always like that. Always trying to prove himself; always trying to impress people. Unfortunately for him, it never worked for me. I simply couldn’t be bothered,” I glanced at you, as I dumped two inches of crushed ice and added strawberry syrup into the cocktail shaker.

“Yeah, well, you were always hard to get,” you shrugged, smiling genially. Your girlfriend looked lost, caught in-between an ex-lovers’ fight.

I smiled, pouring Captain Morgan spiced rum, Wild Turkey bourbon whiskey and strawberry liquor. I shook the cocktail shaker hard, before pouring it into a martini glass and serve it to her.

“How’d you end up here? I thought you wanted to do you PhD in biochemical?” you asked, trying hard to make a conversation.

“Well,” I started as I rinsed the shaker before ending another two inches of ice, “I guess I got tired of that dream,” I measured a shot of Tabasco sauce with Jones Soda Berry Lemonade and Blue Curacao liquor. I added Barcardi 151 rum to give an extra hit.

“Why? I thought it was your childhood dream?” your voice reflected your shock and concern.

“People change,” I answered simply as I jiggled the shaker once more. I poured the transparent blue liquid out. It reminded me of the non-luminous flame from the old chemistry lab. I threw in a cherry for presentation’s sake and served it. Watching carefully, I gazed at the both of them. “How do you find it?” my eyebrow raised.

“I love mine,” your girlfriend nodded at me, “You can’t really taste the alcohol, so its really light,” her eyes sparkled.

“Mine’s really strong. You weren’t kidding when you said it was daring,” you grimaced as the liquid went down your throat. I smirked.

“Well, I guess we’d better go now,” you said as you took out three 10-dollar notes and put it on the table, “Is that enough?” you asked.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll see you guys around then. Come again and I’ll give you one on the house,” I winked.

The both of you were roaring with laughter as you left the bar, like the perfect couple you should be.

Picture by : Royston Toh

Santa's Promise

December 2008

It was long past Christmas. For the second year in a row, I lay in bed, curled tightly into a ball. My tears were still flowing. I was surprised I had any left. My eyes felt swollen as I looked up at the clock beside my bed. The hands showed a bright 4.56am. I buried her face in my pillow as a fresh bout of tears came once more, wracking my entire body. I bit my lip to stop the sobbing from slipping past my lips. I had dreamt of him again. The memories I kept locked up during the day ran amok at night. I could not stop them from reminding me how pathetic I was, how lonely I felt. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping for the feeling to fade. I still did not have the courage to delete his sms-es yet. I hugged myself tight, trying to erase everything from my mind. In the distant, I thought I heard sleigh bells ringing. It was probably a figment of my imagination, but still, I looked up to the purple sky anyway.

“Santa,” I whispered, as the tears continued to pour down my cheeks, “Please. I don’t want to feel this way next year. Next year, I don’t need any expensive gift. All I want is to smile again, because I think I’ve forgotten how,” I sobbed, my shoulders shuddering once more and the tears streamed down my face, like a never ending flow…

January 2009

I smiled and tried to look confident, pretending not to feel the panic welling up within me as I search fruitlessly for my classmates. “Over here!” a loud shrill, yet familiar voice caught my attention. I felt my knees go weak with relief as I walked over to the memorable face. I plastered a grin on my face. It felt wrong somehow, like it didn’t fit. I felt safe now that I was surrounded by the well-known faces. Against my will, my eyes were drawn to him. My mouth went dry and my heart gave a painful twist as I watched him walked past me like he didn’t care. Quickly, I averted my eyes and pretended to be immersed in my friends’ conversation. I didn’t want to care.

March 2009

I became a cougar. Exhilaration rushed through me. I felt like I could do anything. But, it was not meant to be. Still, it helped erase some of the pain that gave me sleepless nights. I slept fitfully now, the first in many months. It was a small step, but a step nonetheless. I decided to push how far I could go. I pressed that delete button that I had dared not dare to do months before. I closed my eyes and waited with bated breath for regret and pain to wash through me. They did not come. I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on my face. It was a small victory.

June 2009

I met a new guy. Okay… I’ve known him for quite awhile now. But this was the first time we had ever really talked. Usually we’d only talk about school things and homework. Now we’ve progressed to a place where we could enjoy each other’s company. I found him to be a great friend. One who understood and could sympathize in my plight. I didn’t have to say it out loud, but he knew. Somehow, we forged an unlikely connection.

September 2009

“Well…maybe I do like you,” I grinned, knowing full well my face was red. He grinned back at me, “Well…maybe I like you too.” We sat there staring at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.

December 2009

I had long forgotten my wish. Christmas came and went. Santa remembered. He taught me to smile again. I stared out at the inky black sky and once again thought I heard sleigh bells ringing. I grinned. Something I had once thought I forgotten how to do. “Thanks Santa,” I murmured sleepily, with that silly grin still stuck on my face, “Thanks for your brilliant Christmas gift this year.”

1 January 2010

Today’s the New Year. The night before was spent together with him. We didn’t go to any fancy parties or took part in any countdowns. We just spent it like we always did. Together. Poking fun at each other, laughing at each other’s inane jokes and yet reveling in its magic. A New Year resolution? Stick together with this guy for awhile. He may not be the world’s perfect guy, but he loves me despite my silliness.

Picture by : Royston Toh

Travelouge of a Daydreamer

My dream

Is to travel the world

Visit the seven wonders

With you by my side

We’ll go to Japan

Come spring

With snow melting and flowers blooming

And you and I will sit on the porch and sip miso soup

We’ll fly to France

Once it’s summer

So we can still wear t-shirt and jeans

And it won’t be hot

We’ll travel to UK

In the autumn

And see the stone hedges

Ancient castles and curious lochs

We’ll sail to Russia

Once it turns grey

And see how the snow

Will cover the Tsar’s palace

And once we’ve seen enough

Come January

We’ll go home

Wherever we make it be

Picture by : Royston Toh

8 March 2010

I scrolled through my documents, relishing the moments, enjoying and discovering my new desktop. One particular document caught my mind. That one story I had written for you just last year. Me, so silly and foolish, so caught up in the moment. And you, only god know what you were thinking. Wave after wave of memories wash through me. The past year had been eventful.

We met, one afternoon. I was keeping to myself, only talking to the cross-country runners, as I knew them from before. You were laughing with your track-and-field teammates. We barely knew each other. We spoke, only because of a chance given by fate. Honestly, if it weren’t for fate, I wouldn’t be this happy now. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, I would most probably be alone now.

“I need to leave early on Wednesday,” I told my physics teacher, CCA teacher-in-charge, and above all, my friend.

“Why?”

“Church. It’s Ash Wednesday,” I told him, with a don’t-you-know tone.

You cut in, “Why don’t you going in the morning?”

I glanced at you, “My friends are all going in the evening, plus, morning mass starts at 5.30am. I’ll die.”

“C’mon, go with me and Michael, it’ll be fine. Then we can go to school together after that. School starts late anyway,” you badgered.

I bit my lip. You were cute. That was all. Nothing else. But, me, being so caught up in the moment, agreed. It was an impulse, and a foolish one. But if it weren’t for that one foolish impulse, I wouldn’t be so contented right now.

You and I fell for each other from the start. Yet, we weren’t meant to be. Your heart wasn’t loyal, wasn’t true. You weren’t what I wanted. I was left once again alone, and betrayed. Looking back, I’m glad you did that. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have found what I was really looking for. Where there are endings, there will be beginnings.

Thanks to you I made new friends within your group, especially with two certain boys. Or rather two, very gallant young men. They knew, what you did to me. They knew how hurt I was, even though I tried hard to cover it up. And one of them began to touch my heart.

It was a chance that fate gave; a beginning for an ending. He and I started out as mere friends, where he would ask me for help with Literature and such. We would hang out, go for movies and basically be friends. I don’t know when it happened, but it did. Suddenly, everything thing changed. Something happened, and I realized I was slowly falling for this person. My feelings reciprocated.

On 6th September 2009, it happened. Nothing asked, nothing said. We just got together, our quiet, little romance. We have ups-and-downs like any couple would, but otherwise fine. It is like we are made for each other. Where I am rash, he slows me down. Where he is planned, I am spontaneous. Like ying-and-yang, we matched each other in every way. So honestly, I have you to thank. If it weren’t for you and what you did, I would most probably still moping somewhere else now, getting hurt all over again. So even though what yoœu did to me was somewhat unforgivable, thank you. Because it was what you did that help me find such happiness today.

Picture By : Royston Toh

8 March 2009

I looked at the clock. Its glow-in-the-dark numbers showed a glaring 11.45pm. "Shit! We’ve got school tomorrow!" My voice scratchy from tiredness, "Die man!" I hear your soft laughter on the other end, stifled so that your parents won’t hear. I hear my soft giggle echoing along repressed so that my parents wont come rushing in.

"So," I whispered, grinning madly for no reason, beyond caring, "Why did you choose me?"

I never got to hear your answer. Maybe you managed to avoid it. Or maybe it was because my mind was too sleepy to comprehend. (I found out later that it was because I’m unique, very super duper fun to play with, not so serious and best of all pretty)

But I remembered wondering out loud; about where we stood, what were we together. I remembered agreeing to wait. I remembered agreeing to wait for each other. Two years sweetheart. Two years.

The time was 11.55pm when we made that pact

I remembered my last thoughts before dozing off:
"How long will we last?"
"Will I get heartbroken again?"
"Why am I smiling?"
"Oh gosh, he messed my brains up! I’m smiling for no freaking reason again!"

So now here I am, wondering if we'd last that long. It’s still too early to say, but there will come a day, when we'll snap at each other, when we'll have cold wars with each other. Would we be able to pull through? Would we be able to hang on? Would we be able to give and take? Or would I end up picking up the bits and pieces of my heart again? I guess I’ll never know. Not until 2011.

I’m counting the days down darling. Are you?

picture by : Royston Toh

I am You

I looked up, blinking hard as the intense light glared into my eyes. Staring into her eyes, a sense of déjà vu crept into me. “Who are you?” I whispered breathlessly, wonder and astonishment slipped into my voice. Her smile, oh-so familiar, like I had seen it some place before. Lips, full and pale pink in colour. Her dark brown eyes gazed into mine. If you looked closer, you would have realized the gold flakes sprinkled in them.

“Have we met?” I murmured. Her laughter, tinkling like bells, resonated in the cool weather. Faint freckles dotted her cheeks, a blush spread across her face. She arched an eyebrow, “Don’t you know?” I shook my head, stunned, as my eyes tried to comprehend the magnificent vision before me. Awkwardly, I stood up and dusted bits of grass and dirt from my jeans. She grinned and giggled, a dainty shoulder shrugged gracefully, a lady-like shrug. Her hair wasn’t black like I thought it was. It was a dark, yet warm brown colour as the sun filtered through the thick strands. It lay untied, curled on her shoulders.

She wore a pastel yellow doll dress with tiny ginger-colored flowers dusted all over. I ran a trembling finger across her cheekbone. It felt cool under my fingertips. “I feel like I know you,” my voice barely audible. Her smile widen, eyes sparkled. Gracefully inclining her neck, she twirled and strolled elegantly away. I wanted to go after her, but instead, remained rooted to the spot.

*****

I saw her again. Her soft, brown hair tied up into a high ponytail, the color high in her cheeks. The beads of perspiration that dotted her brown made her glitter instead. She grinned at me as she carelessly brushed her fringe from her eyes. I gawked at her, unable to believe how one can still so paradisiacal despite have ran three rounds around the school. Her shirt was drenched and droplets of salty water plopped noisily onto the concrete ground.

“What is your name?” I begged her, “Please,” I whispered, desperation seeping into my voice. My breath shortened as I waited in anticipation or perhaps it was due to the dreaded sense of hopelessness which coursed through me.

She smiled sadly, her sorrow evident in her eyes, tearing at my heart. “You know me. You’ve just forgotten, that’s all.” Her russet eyes stared intently into mine, “Please, remember,” she pleaded, eyebrows drawn, face scrunched, as she turned and hurried away. Her hair danced around her pale oval face, her eyes held the mystery that I couldn’t solve. “No, don’t! Come back! Please!” I screamed in anguish. “I don’t. I don’t remember at all,” I choked, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. She was so beautiful, so perfect. Every part of her was made immaculately; she was faultless, amazingly incomparable. She was also a mystery. I know her and yet, I do not remember her. Was this some kind of test?

*****

I raised my head from the cool, porcelain sink and stared into her eyes once more. Warm ruby liquid spilt from the slash marks, on to the ceramic tiles, causing a continuous ‘tip-tap’ sound that echoed hollowly through the quiet cell. No one was about. Pleading quietly with my eyes, I stretched out a quivering finger to stroke her icy cheeks once more. “Please,” my mouth moved along, soundlessly, “I need to know.” She regarded me, pity palpable in those exquisite eyes I’ve grown accustomed to. A wave of dizziness swept through me, I felt my body go limp and sank to the floor. Just before everything went black, she murmured gently, wistfulness unmistakably etched in her voice, “I am YOU.”

picture by : Boris Vallejo