Outside, the wind breezes through my hair. The smell of newly-washed clothes gives me a sense of assurance. I am always paranoid about being smelly ever since I was 7. I love furry animals-stroking their fur is a must for me. The same actions was done like so at the pet shop I frequent, I remembered a brown Cocker Spaniel puppy. He was rather jumpy and I wondered why. My question was resolved when grace gave me poo. Yes, the brown muddy lump of god-knows-what.
Imagine the terror, the smell, the stain left.
Ever since then, I like the word cleanliness quite a bit. Ok, a lot. Being spick and span is a top priority, changed my clothes every 6 hours at the very least. This might have been a sign of OCD, but I don’t really care that much, since I know the root of it all. Never could forgot that day.
Maybe that’s why they picked on me.
The girls.
Queen Bee, Betsy. The two other girls-Alex and Jamie. Tell me, what else could I fault on?
Look into that mirror and see,
That ugly bitch who can never be me.
What a dreamer she is,
Hoping to see the impossibility.
Look at how she walk,
Each leg with no grace.
Now let her talk,
See how disgusting she can be.
The queen bee threw me on the floor,
Laughed alongside with her gang and left.
No one saw anything, on one heard.
That is my fate, my destiny.
Oh, then again. I might just have been an eyesore.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Chapter 1.
I traced the scars on my left arm.
Fierce slashes, of memories so vivid.
Remembering the emotions was easy,
But forgetting the pain was the toughest.
I closed the booklet with open palms. Another poem was written as I hid it away, Mum did not need to see this. There is much on her mind. Lately, the economy has been changing and she got retrenched. Her attempt to keep it under wraps failed within a month. Money is an essential in reality; no one could ever deny it.
New Year is like happening now, for us Chinese anyways. Supposedly to be gatherings of family members, but we are trying to stay away from them as far as possible. Giving money in the form of red packets is part of the tradition-but the quantity of it can be quite an issue.
I made plans to go shopping later to get some new clothes or rather some alone time. My little brother, Joe has been trying to wreck the CDs I own. Yes I know, that is pretty pathetic; no mp3, no ipod. Just a plan old disc-man is what I survive with.
“What is A1?”, “Some grade that you should have gotten…”
“It looks so tacky”, “You should listen to BSB, and at least they are back”
“GET OUT OF MY LIFE” I screamed.
As usual, Mum asked me to keep it down. Not him, yes, me. I reckon that it is the Parents Association’s rule for guidance sometimes. The oldest child you carry around you should have control, and know better. Hence, scolding them first will teach the younger ones in years to come. Bull.
Went straight into my room and changed quickly to another set of clothes. I need my ass out of there. Now or else, it shall explode like the micro-wave oven we had last week. There are touchy incidents a person should be limited to, this includes the space my dear brother has the right to invade. I took the key and pushed it in to the knob. Twisted it left to secure my privacy.
There, I shall head out now.
Fierce slashes, of memories so vivid.
Remembering the emotions was easy,
But forgetting the pain was the toughest.
I closed the booklet with open palms. Another poem was written as I hid it away, Mum did not need to see this. There is much on her mind. Lately, the economy has been changing and she got retrenched. Her attempt to keep it under wraps failed within a month. Money is an essential in reality; no one could ever deny it.
New Year is like happening now, for us Chinese anyways. Supposedly to be gatherings of family members, but we are trying to stay away from them as far as possible. Giving money in the form of red packets is part of the tradition-but the quantity of it can be quite an issue.
I made plans to go shopping later to get some new clothes or rather some alone time. My little brother, Joe has been trying to wreck the CDs I own. Yes I know, that is pretty pathetic; no mp3, no ipod. Just a plan old disc-man is what I survive with.
“What is A1?”, “Some grade that you should have gotten…”
“It looks so tacky”, “You should listen to BSB, and at least they are back”
“GET OUT OF MY LIFE” I screamed.
As usual, Mum asked me to keep it down. Not him, yes, me. I reckon that it is the Parents Association’s rule for guidance sometimes. The oldest child you carry around you should have control, and know better. Hence, scolding them first will teach the younger ones in years to come. Bull.
Went straight into my room and changed quickly to another set of clothes. I need my ass out of there. Now or else, it shall explode like the micro-wave oven we had last week. There are touchy incidents a person should be limited to, this includes the space my dear brother has the right to invade. I took the key and pushed it in to the knob. Twisted it left to secure my privacy.
There, I shall head out now.
About this.
Hi,
I am a writer, a poet. Plainly, I am taking a risk here.
This is a story, based on blogging. It can be known as a short story, or diary, it is just to note down some of the memories. Watch it unfold with each post and do come back for more.
Generally, these posts are with accordance to the date it was written. Hence, this is a piping hot, served up blog.
Enjoy.
Signing off,
Angie.
P.S There are no images.
I am a writer, a poet. Plainly, I am taking a risk here.
This is a story, based on blogging. It can be known as a short story, or diary, it is just to note down some of the memories. Watch it unfold with each post and do come back for more.
Generally, these posts are with accordance to the date it was written. Hence, this is a piping hot, served up blog.
Enjoy.
Signing off,
Angie.
P.S There are no images.
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