Obsession

She watched him move lightly, across her screen. She was watching him be raw and emotional and adventurous. She loved it when he behaved like that. So excited it infects you, slight sprinkle of mania to it.  Another episode ended on another cliff-hanger. She had to see more of him, so she hurriedly clicked “Play Next episode”. She settled in to her sofa again. Her wide eyes fixated on him again, this time her lashes were wet. He was saying such sad beautiful things. Her heart thumped in her chest. Her poor darling! She just wanted to hold him and tell him it’d be okay. Stand next to him and feel his fiery energy, maybe feed some comforting energy back at him.

Her father called out to her. She sighed. She put a hand on her heart as if to help hold all the pain inside. She’d have to leave him for a second, but she’d come back.

Her father proceeded to remind her to study, reminded her that she had to do well in school so that she could take care of the family. Reminded her of her _responsibilities_ . She was tired of hearing about her responsibilities. She shot out a quick burst of lies to appease her dad and walked back to her room.

Once safely tucked in her room, she glanced at the screen again. She felt a headache. She felt a tightness in her chest. She sat down at her laptop and looked at his face again. All at once she realised that she’d never meet him, never know him. This wasn’t even really him, it was just a character. He wasn’t real. But her life was real. Her responsibilities were real.  She put her hand over her mouth this time, she didn’t want anyone to hear. She ground a curled knuckle into an eye and then the other one. She couldn’t watch him anymore, knowing she’d never meet him. The fantasy was -too broken now.

 She closed the tab.

Runaway Bug

We had just finished watching an episode of Sherlock and my sister and I were discussing the episode when she had a craving.

I'm going down to get a..." Clearly at a loss, my sister began to gesture wildly; she swung her fist around as she said,
"The..umm.. you know what i mean."

"Keys? I really don't know. What?" I replied, utterly bamboozled.

"See? This is why you don't catch on as quickly while watching Sherlock. " there was a slight pause as she finally grasped the word. "I meant lollipop. You should have known that! I was eating it in front of you just earlier today!"

"Were you? I can't remember.." I said as i wondered how I could forget my sister chewing on a gigantic rainbow colored lollipop. I formed a rather ridiculous image in my head so I was stuck on how I could forget something like that.

We walked downstairs to the kitchen and Sheena opened the fridge,  where she had stored her lollipop. Right on top of it was a teeny tiny cockroach baby.

She made a disgusted face. "Ick. How'd that get in there?" She peeled off the remnants of the lollipop from the fridge tray.

"Oh! Look! It's getting away! EEEEEE!", I exclaimed.
The cockroach had indeed scurried to the bottom of the fridge and was scurrying away on the floor.

"No use eating this anyway.. Here goes!", said Sheena.

SPLAT

She struck the cockroach with the lollipop stick.

And it shattered into countless pieces.

"You should have seen that one coming!, Sherlock!" I said as I burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Tis a pity that the cockroach got away anyway.

The White Cross

She stared at the rusty white gate. She looked down at the parcel she was holding. It was wrapped in newspaper. As if the parcel was a talisman giving her strength, she pushed open the gate as much as the rust allowed and walked through.

"I wonder which one it is. Oh god. I dont want to leave it on the wrong one". Her thoughts were racing. She walked towards the far end of the cemetary. The numerous crosses that marked the final resting place of each person there, didnt have any markings.

Some were large and some were smaller. most of them were the same brown wood, fairly old. Some graves had grave stones. Some had flowers and others laid bare. Some crosses were ornately carved and others were simple.

But each marked the place of a person. Someone who was once loved.
which one was the one she needed to find?

Year End Review

Year end review 2013

Yay! I've had this blog for two whole years now.

It's been two years of writing monthly. Two years of expressing my thoughts and ideas, and knowing that I have done it to the best of my abilities. But its time i take things a step forward.

So this year, I'm going to put out short stories. Or my daily antics as short stories. I need to practice other forms of writing. Of course i will continue my irregular columns such as Sunday book review and Stories from my scandalous life. but the latter will be told differently. I can do better and  i will. I want to spend mroe time on posts rather than just hammering away at a key  board. This blog has always been my personal endeavor at improving my writing and its time to move forward.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Who I Am

I recently came across all my school certificates and medals. There are various kinds from all the way back in 2003. Ten years ago. Finding those awards really made me think about all the changes that have happened in ten years.

Ten years ago, I was in third grade. In 2003 I was a very reserved child. Yes, I was shy but I have to insist that I was a reserved person because I didn't like fraternizing much. I have always been an introvert.  Back then, I used to make a HUGE tantrum about going to school. I never wanted to go. I didn't like my classmates, I usually liked my teachers and my study material but I never liked going to school. Maybe I had an extended version of the Monday Blues all week long. I'm still not sure. But all I knew when I was that young was that I didn't like school. 

This shy girl is from 2006

I wasn't the type of girl who had many friends. Even to this day, I have very few friends. I was a judgmental child, very defensive and I disliked any rowdiness from other children. As a result, no one really liked me. Who could blame them? I was the one who thought she was better than them. And I frequently showed it. So I quietly settled in with my books. Fiction was my friend. While I was immersed in fiction, I felt understood. I felt like I belonged. All through my elementary and middle school years, I spent my breaks with my nose in a book. I read at every interval i found; in the bus, in free periods and sometimes during P.E. Even today, I love to read.