Sunday, 20 July 2008

Teddy Bear Anonymous

Scarlet Brown was a young teenager, full of life, sugar and spice. She was a cheerful and helpful girl and though she led a very-near-perfect life, she was never proud or boastful. Everyone loved Scarlet Brown, and really, she had everything she could wish for. However, one day, Scarlet Brown, with her brown eyes and brown hair, wished for a teddy bear.

So there they were, on that fateful day, in the first toy shop they saw. Scarlet browsed the shelves of soft toys, fingers lightly sweeping the dark mahogany panes, but found nothing to her liking. Disappointed, she shook her head at her parents and they made their way to the exit. As she glanced around the cluttered shop one last time, she suddenly spotted a matted brown ear poking out among the junk at the back of the shop, half hidden in the darkness. Scarlet’s hope now rejuvenated, she hastened towards it, and pulled out an old but soft and fluffy brown teddy bear with a matted ear. She instantly fell in love with the second-hand teddy bear. It took some persuasion and Scarlet’s big brown puppy-dog-eyes before her parents finally relented and bought the teddy bear.

Scarlet was absolutely smitten with her new teddy bear and she carried it around with her everywhere, showing it off whenever she could with such eagerness and pride, it startled a lot of the elderly. Even though they found it unnerving, they just smiled and shrugged it off, thinking it was just a phase.

One night, however, Scarlet suddenly had a nightmare. She was in a sea, and water stretched for miles all around her. Rain poured and lightning forked through the sky, illuminating the dark sky and dark sea surrounding Scarlet. No one heard or responded to her desperate cries for help. She swam for what felt like hours. Fatigue overtook her and she struggled to stay afloat. Slowly, but surely, she began to drown.

Scarlet woke up screaming, bathed in sweat. She at once grabbed her teddy bear closer to her and buried her face in its fur, whimpering softly. She did not dare go back to sleep and she stayed awake, murmuring prayers till the first rays of dawn filtered into her room.

She did not have this nightmare again until a fortnight later. This time, however, it was accompanied by whispers. She heard their mournful voices all around her, enclosing her in this empty void filled with fear and hate. It terrified Scarlet to no end. She told her parents about these nightmares as it began to occur more frequently, getting more horrible each time. For fear of falling asleep, Scarlet continuously took medications and coffee, becoming addicted to the drugs. Soon dark rings formed around her eyes and she became frail and weak. Her face had a ghastly look and she looked years older. Of course, Scarlet became very ill due to her insomnia and she lay bedridden, confined to the vicinity of her room. Her parents were worried sick, but no doctor or psychiatrist could cure her.

A week later, Scarlet disappeared thoroughly, taking her beloved teddy bear with her. No one knew how it happened. She was just suddenly gone. The police looked high and low, but there was not a trace of Scarlet Brown and her unnamed teddy bear. Driven by grief, Scarlet’s parents barred the door of her room and gloom reigned over the Brown household.

Two months later, a body was washed ashore and DNA proved it to be the Brown’s missing daughter, Scarlet. Everyone mourned for Scarlet’s death, for she was such a lovely girl, but none were as affected as her parents. Now mad beyond grief, they made an impulsive decision to move away. As the workers trudged out of their house from unbarring the doorway to Scarlet’s room, her mother pushed open the door. As she took in the dust-filled room and cobwebbed corners, she saw a small brown teddy bear sitting harmlessly on Scarlet’s pillow, dripping wet, with a piece of seaweed dangling from a matted ear, its mouth curved into a small smile.


FIN.

-Christine Ling


*written by Christine Ling, Ben Ling's sis and Eu Fern's classmate. Reprinted without permission.

Whoa, Malaysia's got talent.

Wednesday, 16 July 2008

Finding Peace

"anger arises shadowing the love,
pain pierces raising the questions and the doubts,
counts of one to ten then ease them all out,
and bring one back to where one IS."

Jave's cousin, Sylvia

Monday, 7 July 2008

I could have

I could have


I really could



I could





But I didn't





























But now I will




A sign of gratitude? Or the opposite?

Tuesday, 24 June 2008

Real

it
is breathtaking
magical,exciting
so they say

it
is resolute
intuitive, beautiful
so they portray

not lies, but
ideals, perhaps
for what i found
was reality
blunt and clumsy
less than
perfect

yet its value
soars
because
what we are
is real



-Maia-

Sunday, 15 June 2008

Far (part 3 - End)

As soon as I regained consciousness, I slowly got up into a sitting position. I was still in the same room, but alone this time. I sighed as I recalled Ben-Garth’s effort to “cheer me up”. Perhaps he thought I still had my long-gone promiscuous habits because when I was younger, beautiful women seemed to always take my mind off my problems. But not anymore – I had gotten married and I had a son... HAD a son...

Seth...

I loved him with all my heart. When he was a boy, I would play with him. Running in the fields, exploring the woods, swimming and fishing in brooks, practising magic... But as he grew, we drifted apart. I had to maintain a “macho”, steely outward appearance because it was needed, he needed to become a man on his own, and I believed he had it in him. I mean, come on, he’s my son, is he not?

But his becoming a man at the cost of our relationship... I wonder if my decision was the wiser one...

About 20 years ago, my son sent me a letter while he was at a faraway land. Here was how it went:

“Father,

Happy Father’s Day! I want you to know that I respect you. You are such a responsible and strong father, and I really appreciate that. I always look to you for guidance and I know you won’t fail me. Thank you for everything, father. I love you, my mentor and father.

Your son,

Seth.”

Well, it was more of a note than a letter but the length wasn’t an issue for me. That note brought me to tears because for the first time in a very very long time...I felt like a father, I felt like I had a son! I was a father – my pride restored!

I replied with a note which was almost just as short:

“Dear Son,

Thank you so much for the letter. I love you too, and I’m so proud of you! Keep working hard at whatever you do. Put your back into it!

Your father,

Asheroth.”

It took all the strength in me to pen down the word “love” because it would reveal the parts of me that have lain dormant for decades but now have been resurrected by my son’s note. A few years passed since that Father’s Day, and I was at the docks waiting for my son, hours before his ship’s arrival. Finally, after a long and patient wait, his ship came in and the gangplank was extended. As the passengers trickled out of the ship and passed by me, I craned my neck to catch sight of my son. And ho, there he was, the last one to get off the ship. He saw me too, and his face broke into a smile. Hurriedly, he half-dragged, half-carried his massive suitcase as he rushed towards me. I started walking towards him, yearning for our embrace.

He dropped his suitcase and began to run. And he was waving frantically. I spun on my heels, and time slowed down...

Poison dart... Too late...

The dart pierced my forehead between my eyes, and my body fell limp to the ground. People screamed and scattered in fear.

BIND!

I immobilized the assassin and pulled his mask off, revealing a very shocked face. I did not recognize him, and to my surprise he did not have a tattoo on his left cheek. Assassins were mercenaries, and each guild had their own tattoo.

“Nice shot, but that was my clone,” I told him coolly. “Now tell me, who sent you?”

He started to mumble some words.

“What? Speak up!” I shouted in his ear as I shook him roughly. I was very perplexed at that time because someone wanting me dead...was a very odd notion. Something fishy was going on!

The unmasked assassin continued mumbling, and I realised that he was repeating his words.

Curses, he’s chanting! No!

I barely managed to push him as far away from me as possible before I jumped aside to avoid the explosion. Who in the Blazes of Hell came with the idea of a suicide bomber? But why? WHY? WHY? WHY???

My head was ringing, and I was temporarily deaf. I couldn’t see properly. All I could do was lie on the ground, groaning and trying to make some sense of my surroundings. Seth rushed to my side.

“Father! Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“What a clever question...” I muttered.

He smiled apologetically and replied, “Well, your sarcasm is still intact, so I guess you’re pretty fine.”

“That’s a very clever answer too,” I told him.

He sighed, slight frustration showing in his face. I cackled, and then coughed in pain because my chest was hurt by the blow from the blast.

“What’s the point behind all this?” asked Seth, as he slowly propped me up into a sitting position.

“I don’t know. A dart, then a suicide bomber? Targeted at me?” I said. The pain was slowly dissipating as my son used a healing spell on me.

“Save your energy, son,” I wanted to say but before I could utter a word...

Someone cast a spell!

A bolt of lightning zoomed towards us and it barely missed me, but it hit Seth and sent him flying into a wall almost ten feet away. Seth slammed into the wall, cracking it and he fell to the floor. On all fours, he coughed blood. His elbows shook then it gave way and he toppled.

“SETH!!!!” I called out.

I got up into a battle stance, ready to reap whatever arcane energy needed to defend ourselves and to capture the attacker. As I rushed towards my son’s motionless body, I watched the strands of energy in the area, watching for any minute changes in the flow that would betray the hidden attacker’s position.

“Come out and face me, magician!” I shouted. “Duel me!”

Still nothing happened. He must have fled. After a few moments, I decided to let my guard down in order to tend to my son. I started to weave the healing spell when he put his hands on mine, halting my progress. He knew it as much as I did. His internal wounds were beyond repair. Death was imminent. Death was sure.

Damn it!

I took him in my arm and tears welled in my eyes. My son, my son... My negligence caused all this. No, no, no...

“You know what Father... When you replied my letter, for the first time in a very very long time, I felt like I had a father,” Seth struggled to speak in between coughs. He smiled, as beads of tears flowed down his bloody cheeks.

“Asheroth...”

I turned and saw Lady Sixor.

“I am most grieved by the loss of your offspring’s life, not only because I fathom your feelings, but also because of a greater cause. However, I am not at liberty to disclose to you the reason behind all these tragic events.”

I clenched my jaws and fists. Greater cause? She reached out her right hand with her palm facing upwards, and gently flicked her fingers.

Then life left Seth’s body.

I buried Seth myself. And I wondered if I ought to feel any anger or hatred. Vengeance? I don’t know, I was just... numb. I bought myself some new clothes, and burned my blood-stained ones. When I got home, Es-Qara asked me where our son was. I lied to her, saying that he never came back. I assumed that she didn’t believe me because she didn’t ask anything else.

“Asheroth?” Ben-Garth called out to me, waking me from my reminiscing. He and Reuben entered the room.

“Don’t say sorry,” I said. “Just give me my clothes back.”

Camelia walked in with a cake in her hands. It had a long, lighted candle.

“As an apology,” she said demurely, sincerity showing.

I sighed and waved them over.

I blew the candle and cut the cake.

Happy Father’s Day, Asheroth.

Thursday, 12 June 2008

Lost

A swordsman without his blade
A musician without sound
An artist without his brush
A singer without melody
A warrior without a cause
An army without a banner


Scattered and defeated
Weathered and worn
But worse of all







Lost.

Sunday, 8 June 2008

Colour

Black and white, black and white
Shades of grey in between
Right and wrong, left and right,
Oh, so simple, so clean

But nothing is ever so simple, is it?
Nothing is ever so fine
Life's more than just rhythm, more than just beat
It's MUSIC, melody and rhythm combined

See you not the colours between?
The brilliant hues and subtle shades?
White is but a disguise, black an illusion
Put to shame by colourful confusion

Red, blue, yellow and green
Mixed and matched with shades in-between
I can't see them all, but I don't care
I see enough to be aware

Aware that sometimes the colours matter
Aware that perspectives are monochrome
Aware that trying to build something better
Requires eyes more than just my own

So even when the music dies
So colour lives, vibrant and ALIVE

-Asheroth-