Rain poured heavily from the darken heavens. Lightning flashed above the many black umbrellas, casting a ghostly ray of light on everyone. Everything looked so somber, something I would call as the colours of death. Thunder shook the muddy and wet grounds that they were standing on. The atmosphere was grave and tense. Diminished sounds of crying and mourning could be heard over the sound of the raindrops falling onto the ground. Even though, the heavy rain took away nearly fifty percent of the visibility, nevertheless, the faces of those crying over their loved ones could be seen distinctively.
I looked around sadly. Death was a part of everyday life. Death must happen in order to keep the world balanced. Life and death must be equal. I saw a black hearse parked by the side of the cemetery and I saw that whoever the poor soul who died was, he or she must have had a big family or either, a famous person. I could hear and see the priest praying together with those who attended the funeral.
Queerly though, I couldn't locate where the coffin was. Unless they had lowered it down into the six-foot deep grave that was already dug, I thought. But that was simply unfeasible because coffins was only lowered at the end of the funeral, after the priest was done with the praying and readings. There must be some logical explanation why the coffin wasn't present. The sight of a coffin-less funeral was almost...macabre...I shivered, not because of the cold but because of the sight of the coffin-less funeral. No matter how macabre it was, I still had to pay respect at a funeral and not have all these improper thoughts. How offensive this would have been if the dead could actually read my thoughts. I laughed silently at the thought of the dead reading thoughts and continued to wonder where could the coffin be.
I began to let my mind wonder. What would it be like to be dead? To be able to leave this world and travel to another? Would it be like...starting a whole new life? Was there really life after death? Was there really eternal life? I slapped myself mentally at my doubt against eternal life. What was I thinking? I'm a Christian, I believe in eternal life and life after death! How could I actually doubt my faith in eternal life and life after death with God in his kingdom! I slapped myself mentally again and reminded myself to never ever doubt my faith again.
Out of the blues, I realized something so consternating that it hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't standing up, neither was I sitting down but I was lying down. I was perplexed and almost inquisitive about why was I lying down on muddy grounds. That was when I realized that I was lying on something soft and with a silky texture. I nearly screamed out loud. I was lying in a coffin lined with the finest silks. A coffin! I could still see the sky because the lid wasn't closed yet. They are burying me alive! The thought crossed my head. I tried to scream but I couldn't and I couldn't even move any part of my body. Then, I felt a sharp and burning white-hot pain in my side and I winced in pain. I was frustrated and angry, who dares to drug me and try to bury me alive! Of all the nerves this psycho had! I tried to scream again but all I could manage was a barely audible whisper. I bet ants couldn't even hear me let alone those fools who actually fell for the thought that I was dead can hear me.
"—may Jenna rest in peace forever," those were the last words from the priest, indicating that it was time for me to be buried. They closed the lid of my coffin and that was the last time I ever saw the world anymore.
I groaned inwardly, I'm going to be buried alive??? I couldn't believe all these. Then I felt a jolt of sadness, at least I knew the feeling to be 'so-call' dead. I'll never see my family or my friends anymore. This was starting to get plain preposterous again. I tried screaming while they began to lower my coffin into the six-foot deep grave. At least this coffin is pretty comfortable, I found myself thinking then I felt annoyed by my obstinate folly. What do you mean by at least this coffin is pretty comfortable! I thought irritably as my coffin hit the muddy bottom of the grave with a violent thud.
They began to shovel mounts of dirt onto my coffin. I could hear every single thud when the dirt hit the lid of my coffin. It's going to be a long wait down here, I thought in frustration, counting every single thud. My sight began to swirl before me, everything became hazy. My head began to throb and then everything went black.
When I woke up. I started to feel panic rising into my chest again. Then I blinked, it was bright and everything was this bright white light. I was introduced to another colour of death.. I was confused, why is it bright now? Shouldn't it be dark like it was six feet under? Then, I slowly registered something in my mind, maybe the whole being-buried-alive-thing was just another absurd dream. While I was busy pondering, a voice called out to me.
"Welcome home Jenna," the voice echoed.
I turned around and saw nothing but bright, white light everywhere. I squinted at tried to search for the direction of the voice. I can move...I realized and then felt faint, I really wanted to know what was going on now.
"I'm just being inquisitive," I voiced up uncertainly then I continued what I wanted to say, "am I dead? Or is this some sort of...dream?"
"It's no dream. You are dead," the voice confirmed the worst on my mind.
"How did that happen to me?" I questioned curiously. "I thought I was drugged and buried alive," I muttered under my breath and then regretted saying that almost immediately.
"You were not drugged neither were you buried alive," the voice said and gave something that I was pretty certain, it was a laugh. "You died in a plane crash two days ago."
I nodded like I was some sort of puppet, my mouth hanging open. I was standing here, listening to my own death story. It felt like some sort of over-dramatic soap opera. "Why did I have to go now? Couldn't you have let me spent more time?" I questioned.
"I hadn't had the change to graduate from secondary school yet. I hadn't had the chance to even know what stands in front for me. Would I have been a successful engineer or would I have been a scavenger on the streets, begging for money? Would I have lived a happy life?" more and more questions were pouring rapidly out of my mouth.
"You would have been what you chose to be. I don't choose your roads for you but you are the one who chose your roads."
"Then why couldn't I have chose the road to be alive? I never chose this road. I thought you said I get to choose," I complained, having the feeling that it was rather unfair.
"I never chose for you to board that plane, did I?" came the voice.
Those words felt like as if a bombshell had dropped out of the blues. I felt a pang of regret, if I never boarded that plane, I would still be alive. I wouldn't have had to go through all these so soon.
It was a long rest. Nothing but black, pitch black and as dark as night. These were the colours of death...
(1331 words)
PS: this was my Commonwealth Essay competition essay...copyrighted!!!
|
|
|---|
Sunday, February 19, 2006
A Lesson To Learn
It was a controversy that happened over nearly seventy years ago among two different families of the Chinese race who lived together in the same village with the natives in Sarawak. They were the Wu family and the Yin family. It had caused a formidable war to break out in the village. It was like a bloodbath. There were bodies sprawled on the ground infested with flies and houses were so charred that they were reduced to cinders.
Although neither family knew what was the actual cause of the controversy, after seventy long and cold years, they still refused to interact with each other. To them, that would be taboo.
Despite their hatred and loath towards each other, the natives who lived with them in the village did their very best to try to get both families to make peace. The natives felt that it was unessential for the Wu and the Yin family to carry on their altercation now and then over trivial things.
***
"Don't you think that it is rather fatuous of you to keep all these abhorrence towards the Wu family when your family hardly knows the actual cause of the controversy that happened all those years back?" the chief of the natives, Loggia asked.
Loggia and the head of the Wu family, Er Xin were at the river that afternoon. They were hoping to catch some fish to bring back as dinner for their family later. So far, luck hasn't was not with them.
"That doesn't matter at all. The importance is that we fight for our family's rights and pride. My ancestors wouldn't be too exhilarated if I were to suddenly forget all about the fight between them and the Yin family and start talking and laughing with those conspirators!" Er Xin said fiercely with a strong look of determination on the old man's face.
"I understand that, my friend. But don't you think that it is necessary to find out the actual cause of their fight?" Loggia said wisely. The old chief had always been a very wise man whom most people seek for when they needed advice.
"I think that will be all for today," Er Xin said shortly, he then got up abruptly with a trout in his hand and walked away briskly, leaving the old chief shaking his head by the river.
***
The natives had harvested their crops and threw a gathering. They invited both the Wu and the Yin family to join them for a gathering, anticipating that both families would get along and make peace to one another.
Then both the Wu and the Yin family arrived, they scowled at each other with looks of antipathy on their faces and sat as far as possible away from each other. The natives heaved sighs and shrugged helplessly. The natives hoped that perhaps after several helpings of rice, both families would drop their antipathy for one another.
Unfortunately, that never happened. Halfway through eating, the head of the Yin family, Shan Her suddenly spoke up.
"I don't think it was very wise of you natives to invite the Wu family over to dinner," he declared, standing up at looking at everyone.
"That is not a very nice—" Logia began but Shan Her interrupted him harshly.
"Considering that they have a family of thieves who would steal from my family!" Shan Her acrimonious shouted, pointing his long, crooked finger at the Wu family.
"Calm down, both of you," Loggia tried to halt both old men but was ignored as if he was just a wall.
"How dare you call us thieves! We never stoop so low to steal from your family!" Er Xin roared, violently shaking his fist. "We do not need your gold!" he added roughly.
"My wife's jade necklace is missing and I know you took it! This means war!"
Those were the last words the natives ever heard from both families before war broke out the next day before sunrise.
It was like watching history repeat itself. Blood everywhere and bodies lying around. It brought a nauseating stench of rotting flesh.. The only two survivors of the Wu and the Yin family was Er Xin and Shan Her. Both leaders received appalling news when Loggia showed up with a jade necklace in his hand. He had found it in one of the pots Shan Her had given to him as a gift. Apparently, Shan Her's wife had left it there and had forgotten all about it. When both men heard about it, they regretted starting the war which, caused their family members to die.
Now, both the Wu and the Yin family forgave each other and made peace. They had learnt that it was important to live together harmoniously. They had learnt a very important lesson.
(800 words)
PS: copyrighted ya...this was my essay for the Azam Petronas essay competition. The theme is Good Moral Values. Kinda dull if you ask me...reminds me of How Dalat Got Its' Name...ugh...
~Gabrielle~
Although neither family knew what was the actual cause of the controversy, after seventy long and cold years, they still refused to interact with each other. To them, that would be taboo.
Despite their hatred and loath towards each other, the natives who lived with them in the village did their very best to try to get both families to make peace. The natives felt that it was unessential for the Wu and the Yin family to carry on their altercation now and then over trivial things.
***
"Don't you think that it is rather fatuous of you to keep all these abhorrence towards the Wu family when your family hardly knows the actual cause of the controversy that happened all those years back?" the chief of the natives, Loggia asked.
Loggia and the head of the Wu family, Er Xin were at the river that afternoon. They were hoping to catch some fish to bring back as dinner for their family later. So far, luck hasn't was not with them.
"That doesn't matter at all. The importance is that we fight for our family's rights and pride. My ancestors wouldn't be too exhilarated if I were to suddenly forget all about the fight between them and the Yin family and start talking and laughing with those conspirators!" Er Xin said fiercely with a strong look of determination on the old man's face.
"I understand that, my friend. But don't you think that it is necessary to find out the actual cause of their fight?" Loggia said wisely. The old chief had always been a very wise man whom most people seek for when they needed advice.
"I think that will be all for today," Er Xin said shortly, he then got up abruptly with a trout in his hand and walked away briskly, leaving the old chief shaking his head by the river.
***
The natives had harvested their crops and threw a gathering. They invited both the Wu and the Yin family to join them for a gathering, anticipating that both families would get along and make peace to one another.
Then both the Wu and the Yin family arrived, they scowled at each other with looks of antipathy on their faces and sat as far as possible away from each other. The natives heaved sighs and shrugged helplessly. The natives hoped that perhaps after several helpings of rice, both families would drop their antipathy for one another.
Unfortunately, that never happened. Halfway through eating, the head of the Yin family, Shan Her suddenly spoke up.
"I don't think it was very wise of you natives to invite the Wu family over to dinner," he declared, standing up at looking at everyone.
"That is not a very nice—" Logia began but Shan Her interrupted him harshly.
"Considering that they have a family of thieves who would steal from my family!" Shan Her acrimonious shouted, pointing his long, crooked finger at the Wu family.
"Calm down, both of you," Loggia tried to halt both old men but was ignored as if he was just a wall.
"How dare you call us thieves! We never stoop so low to steal from your family!" Er Xin roared, violently shaking his fist. "We do not need your gold!" he added roughly.
"My wife's jade necklace is missing and I know you took it! This means war!"
Those were the last words the natives ever heard from both families before war broke out the next day before sunrise.
It was like watching history repeat itself. Blood everywhere and bodies lying around. It brought a nauseating stench of rotting flesh.. The only two survivors of the Wu and the Yin family was Er Xin and Shan Her. Both leaders received appalling news when Loggia showed up with a jade necklace in his hand. He had found it in one of the pots Shan Her had given to him as a gift. Apparently, Shan Her's wife had left it there and had forgotten all about it. When both men heard about it, they regretted starting the war which, caused their family members to die.
Now, both the Wu and the Yin family forgave each other and made peace. They had learnt that it was important to live together harmoniously. They had learnt a very important lesson.
(800 words)
PS: copyrighted ya...this was my essay for the Azam Petronas essay competition. The theme is Good Moral Values. Kinda dull if you ask me...reminds me of How Dalat Got Its' Name...ugh...
~Gabrielle~
Crossing The Boundaries
The sky was a pale shade of purple with streaks of orange nestling in between. The sun had barely broken over the horizon. The streets were dark and silent. Occasionally a cat would streak across the road like a phantom, breaking the stillness of the early morning.
It was barely even six in the morning, Mr. Leroy was standing in front of his house. Dim orange light from the street lamps cast an eerie luminescence over him. Mr. Leroy looked over to his neighbor, a young boy approximately around the age of sixteen, who was all bleary-eyed and glancing across the streets from the window of his bedroom. His face displayed a mixture of shock and consternation as his glance landed on the mid-age man. Judging from the look on his face as if he had just seen a revenant, Mr. Leroy must have appeared rather cadaverous under the dim lighting. The young boy quickly withdrew himself from the window and pulled the curtains shut with a flourish.
Mr. Leroy began to move swiftly and quietly down the street. His footsteps bearing no whatsoever echo on the hard gravel-paved surface. He gave the impression of a lion stalking its' prey. When he turned left as he reached the corner of the street and continued walking for a rough estimation of twenty minutes in the cold, bitter morning before he came to a halt at the end of the street.
The street was a rather well kept area. Rows of neat white houses with rosebushes and garden ornaments decorating their lawns. Everything was fitted in perfectly well just like something you would see on an oil painting. The only thing that stood oddly out was an old Victorian manor that had half of its' roof tiles missing. The door was already splintering and the paint was already peeling due to age. The windows were grubby and black with filth and grime. The lawn was overgrown with weeds and the shrubs badly needed some pruning. Everything about that old Victorian manor just needed a lot of touch ups and repairs.
Mr. Leroy pushed the iron wrought gate open. The heavy gate creaked open and shut loudly. Mr. Leroy made his way around the house and entered through the back door.
Inside, the house was simply too filthy that there were no words left to describe it. Cobwebs hung from corners to corners and clouds of dust rose every time the moth-eaten carpet was stepped on. A musty and damp smell hung around in the air.
There was a silhouette of a man standing in the shadows. He stepped out of the shadows and towards Mr. Leroy.
"Good day my friend," he shook Mr. Leroy's hand with a firm shake.
"A very good day to you too," came Mr. Leroy's reply.
"I presume you came here to accept my offer? I give you my word that it will be ten thousand dollars."
"I have no doubts about your word with money. You have never failed me with that. Are you positively sure that this is the person you wish to have me assassinate?" Mr. Leroy asked quietly. He was looking down at the other man, who apparently appear to be half a head shorter than Mr. Leroy.
"I am sure of it. Then, ten thousand dollars it shall be and you, my fellow friend, you have never failed me as well," the man smiled a sinister smile. His eyes glinted with evil as he leant closer to Mr. Leroy. "27, St. Mark's Street," he said in a whisper that was barely audible before he left the room with a flourish.
Mr. Leroy mentally wrote the address down in his head, preparing himself mentally for what he was about to accomplish. It was something so inhuman and cold-blooded that it would give people cold feet to even cross the thought of doing it, let alone carry it out. Mr. Leroy was amused with himself as how he could just stab a man at the medulla oblongata, a section at the base of the brain that was uncovered that could leave a man dead within seconds and then walk away as if it was nothing big. Mr. Leroy had been doing this for more than ten years. He killed for a living, his duty was to assassinate no matter who or where.
It took him another twenty-minute walk to get to 27, St. Mark's Street. It was a rich man's area. Mr. Leroy shook his head. Such a pity, so much money on Earth but it was a shame that his victim couldn't take all his money with him to heaven. Mr. Leroy gave a short, low laugh before climbing through the window. For a mid-age man, his agility and speed was astonishing.
Once inside, he moved quietly and swiftly across the polished mahogany floor and up the wooden set of staircase. He was careful to place his weight properly on each step so that the wood wouldn't sink and creak under his weight. He managed to reach the landing of the staircase without making a single sound. Mr. Leroy was possibly one of the best assassins ever.
He reached over and turned the doorknob of the door at the end of the hallway. The door swung open smoothly. In there was a large and robust man lying deep asleep on his bed. He was lying on his side with his mouth wide open and snoring. Mr. Leroy made a disgusted noise in his throat, he had always found people who snore as uncivilized. The sleeping man jerked awake at the sound of Mr. Leroy. He looked at Mr. Leroy in half fear and annoyance.
"Who are you? What are you doing in here? I am calling the police," the man struggled to get out of bed.
"I am Anthony Leroy at your service," Mr. Leroy made a quick move towards the man and brought his pocketknife down at a well-placed stab at the back of the man's head before the man had a chance to move towards the telephone. The man collapsed onto the floor like a puppet and lay motionless.
Mr. Leroy congratulated himself mentally for another job well done and left the house quickly. He knew that this would be a piece of cake as it had always been.
The following day, Mr. Leroy was sitting in a coffee shop for his daily cup of strong, black coffee.
"Here's your coffee sir, can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked, placing a cup of coffee onto Mr. Leroy's table.
"Thank you, that's enough," Mr. Leroy replied in his usual curt manner. He flicked his newspaper open and brought it to his face. What he saw on the first page brought a complacent smirk onto his face. He stroked the brim of his hat in delight as he read through the details. The news read about the mayor, Mr. Rink was found dead beside his bed by his maid. The police were now searching for the assassin but there were no clues and evidence left by the assassin so that made their work almost impossible.
Mr. Leroy smiled once more. He had broken the law once more by killing another man. He prefer to call it as crossing the boundaries...
(1223 words)
PS: this was my second essay for the Commonwealth Essay Competition but I didn't hand this one in. I handed the Colours one instead. COPYRIGHTED!
It was barely even six in the morning, Mr. Leroy was standing in front of his house. Dim orange light from the street lamps cast an eerie luminescence over him. Mr. Leroy looked over to his neighbor, a young boy approximately around the age of sixteen, who was all bleary-eyed and glancing across the streets from the window of his bedroom. His face displayed a mixture of shock and consternation as his glance landed on the mid-age man. Judging from the look on his face as if he had just seen a revenant, Mr. Leroy must have appeared rather cadaverous under the dim lighting. The young boy quickly withdrew himself from the window and pulled the curtains shut with a flourish.
Mr. Leroy began to move swiftly and quietly down the street. His footsteps bearing no whatsoever echo on the hard gravel-paved surface. He gave the impression of a lion stalking its' prey. When he turned left as he reached the corner of the street and continued walking for a rough estimation of twenty minutes in the cold, bitter morning before he came to a halt at the end of the street.
The street was a rather well kept area. Rows of neat white houses with rosebushes and garden ornaments decorating their lawns. Everything was fitted in perfectly well just like something you would see on an oil painting. The only thing that stood oddly out was an old Victorian manor that had half of its' roof tiles missing. The door was already splintering and the paint was already peeling due to age. The windows were grubby and black with filth and grime. The lawn was overgrown with weeds and the shrubs badly needed some pruning. Everything about that old Victorian manor just needed a lot of touch ups and repairs.
Mr. Leroy pushed the iron wrought gate open. The heavy gate creaked open and shut loudly. Mr. Leroy made his way around the house and entered through the back door.
Inside, the house was simply too filthy that there were no words left to describe it. Cobwebs hung from corners to corners and clouds of dust rose every time the moth-eaten carpet was stepped on. A musty and damp smell hung around in the air.
There was a silhouette of a man standing in the shadows. He stepped out of the shadows and towards Mr. Leroy.
"Good day my friend," he shook Mr. Leroy's hand with a firm shake.
"A very good day to you too," came Mr. Leroy's reply.
"I presume you came here to accept my offer? I give you my word that it will be ten thousand dollars."
"I have no doubts about your word with money. You have never failed me with that. Are you positively sure that this is the person you wish to have me assassinate?" Mr. Leroy asked quietly. He was looking down at the other man, who apparently appear to be half a head shorter than Mr. Leroy.
"I am sure of it. Then, ten thousand dollars it shall be and you, my fellow friend, you have never failed me as well," the man smiled a sinister smile. His eyes glinted with evil as he leant closer to Mr. Leroy. "27, St. Mark's Street," he said in a whisper that was barely audible before he left the room with a flourish.
Mr. Leroy mentally wrote the address down in his head, preparing himself mentally for what he was about to accomplish. It was something so inhuman and cold-blooded that it would give people cold feet to even cross the thought of doing it, let alone carry it out. Mr. Leroy was amused with himself as how he could just stab a man at the medulla oblongata, a section at the base of the brain that was uncovered that could leave a man dead within seconds and then walk away as if it was nothing big. Mr. Leroy had been doing this for more than ten years. He killed for a living, his duty was to assassinate no matter who or where.
It took him another twenty-minute walk to get to 27, St. Mark's Street. It was a rich man's area. Mr. Leroy shook his head. Such a pity, so much money on Earth but it was a shame that his victim couldn't take all his money with him to heaven. Mr. Leroy gave a short, low laugh before climbing through the window. For a mid-age man, his agility and speed was astonishing.
Once inside, he moved quietly and swiftly across the polished mahogany floor and up the wooden set of staircase. He was careful to place his weight properly on each step so that the wood wouldn't sink and creak under his weight. He managed to reach the landing of the staircase without making a single sound. Mr. Leroy was possibly one of the best assassins ever.
He reached over and turned the doorknob of the door at the end of the hallway. The door swung open smoothly. In there was a large and robust man lying deep asleep on his bed. He was lying on his side with his mouth wide open and snoring. Mr. Leroy made a disgusted noise in his throat, he had always found people who snore as uncivilized. The sleeping man jerked awake at the sound of Mr. Leroy. He looked at Mr. Leroy in half fear and annoyance.
"Who are you? What are you doing in here? I am calling the police," the man struggled to get out of bed.
"I am Anthony Leroy at your service," Mr. Leroy made a quick move towards the man and brought his pocketknife down at a well-placed stab at the back of the man's head before the man had a chance to move towards the telephone. The man collapsed onto the floor like a puppet and lay motionless.
Mr. Leroy congratulated himself mentally for another job well done and left the house quickly. He knew that this would be a piece of cake as it had always been.
The following day, Mr. Leroy was sitting in a coffee shop for his daily cup of strong, black coffee.
"Here's your coffee sir, can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked, placing a cup of coffee onto Mr. Leroy's table.
"Thank you, that's enough," Mr. Leroy replied in his usual curt manner. He flicked his newspaper open and brought it to his face. What he saw on the first page brought a complacent smirk onto his face. He stroked the brim of his hat in delight as he read through the details. The news read about the mayor, Mr. Rink was found dead beside his bed by his maid. The police were now searching for the assassin but there were no clues and evidence left by the assassin so that made their work almost impossible.
Mr. Leroy smiled once more. He had broken the law once more by killing another man. He prefer to call it as crossing the boundaries...
(1223 words)
PS: this was my second essay for the Commonwealth Essay Competition but I didn't hand this one in. I handed the Colours one instead. COPYRIGHTED!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Valentine Oops
Argh, thought I was being all low-profile. Something must have slipped. Gave away the chocolates and brownies to Christine. Gave the rose to my mum and the necklace and the earings. God have mercy on me.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Happy Valentine's Day
It's 10th of Febuary, four more days to Valentine's Day. I doubt I'll be online on that day, so Happy Valentine's Day to you all! ...emmm...early V'day....hahahhaha! By the way...my first day as a probation prefect...mmmm...maths test today, dentist this monday...cyaz!
Sunday, February 5, 2006
Meet Dr. Dentist
Hey, just came back from piano theory class. Tomorrow I've got dental appointment, extraction for braces. Bored now, I'm appearing as offline on my msn messenger cos it's just way too boring cos there are so few people online. Gtg, watch TV, darn bored here. Cya.
Thursday, February 2, 2006
Gaming
Hii...it's 10.16am now. I should be in school but oh no...my mom made me stay home because I was sick although I was insisting to go. Now I got to do my homework in the afternoon and that plain sucks. Plus no violin and piano lessons today, not quite sure about BM tuition though. So bored..reading Sejarah F1 now, if not I would be in school...don't know doing what...church maybe in the morning then classes. Arghh...bored...nvm...I'll go play Times of Conquest...cyaz!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
