An Old Wolf

Alright! Finally i got myself to write something that satisfies myself. I stayed up late just to write this piece, fearing that once I went to sleep i would forget about it. And here it is, after so long.

Jake was chasing after a wolf. An old performing wolf with less than a year left in it. He was amazed when he found out that the wolf could run so fast. All its life it worked so hard in the circus, and finally it would close those tired, old eyes for the last time and get the rest he deserves. That old wolf was the only companion Jake ever had. When he heard that the circus master was going to get rid of the old pack of performing wolves, he was devastated and tried his best to persuade them to let him, at least, keep that old wolf. They agreed, but even so, Jake would not be able to spend more than a year with it. At least, he thought, at least it could get a decent life before its death.

However, a decent life with Jake was not what the old wolf sought. It wanted neither adventure nor peace. All it wanted was its mate, another wolf that would be brought to a zoo. The old wolf was traveling at a speed no animal of his age could, even faster than the speed he had ran when he was still young. It did not know where it was going, nor where its mate was, but it believe that as long as it kept running, it would, one day, meet its mate. Perhaps by chance, or perhaps by instinct, its legs brought it to a lorry, where a few zookeepers were transporting the pack

Jake reached, seconds later, panting.

“Where is the old she wolf?” he asked, barely able to catch his breath.

“Ah, that one! She was so problematic. Struggling so hard at that age. She is gone now, resting the old bones of hers. Must have used the last of her breath struggling.”

There was no sad howl when the old wolf left. It just left, with its head hanging. Without noticing it, Jake followed the old wolf. They stopped at the seaside, the wolf’s favorite hide out, where Jake sat down. It placed its head on his lap the way he usually do, and closed its ancient eyes. Jake was left alone with his tears and overpowering sense of loneliness as the old canine departed without a struggle, still in search for its mate.

A wolf was running, again. Its legs were running, and its fur was flying. With a youthful spirit and a strong heart, it believed that as long as it kept running, it would, someday, meet its mate. Quite unknown to it, it left someone, whose love for it was so great, suffering in silence.

Disappointed

I'm rather disappointed recently, for I am unable to produce any piece that I am satisfied with. Many ideas have come and gone, mostly for long stories. I have given up any hope for developments for long stories, for the past 4 long stories that I have written did not reach any where, and I do not think they ever will end. This is the 5th one, and I have not thought of any titles for it, but here is what i have written so far. Not that I actually expect this story to end, but i really cannot write any short ones recently for reasons unknown to even myself. This one lacked many things, to me, that is. It lacks descriptions, is rather confusing and misleading to me. I will be making changes soon. Bare with it.

“Where am I?” Jake muttered to himself as he sat up.

“Nowhere,” replied something that looked rather similar to a wolf, but stronger, and larger.

Its coat was blood red, and its fangs were larger and sharper than a normal fang. Its size was similar to that of a horse.

Instead of being frightened by the beast, Jake growled, “It doesn’t make sense at all.”

“It is not supposed to.”

“What are you?”

“Something.”

“That doesn’t make sense either.”

“Stop asking ridiculous answers, will you?”

“Then give me a proper answer!” Jake bellowed.

He felt irritated by the “something”.

“If you ask a proper question, I will give you a proper answer,” the beast seemed to be totally relaxed, and that irritated Jake.

They sat there in silence for a while, and then Jake began to understand the situation.

“I want to go home!” he began whimpering.

“Quiet.”

“I WANT TO GO HOME!”

The beast suddenly stood up and growled at the bush.

“Warfire, you are befriending a human again,” another beast, similar to Warfire, emerged from the bush.

This creature’s coat was pure white, without a single marking on it.

“Snowclaw!” hissed Warfire, “what do you want?”

“That human with you, is suppose to be an offering.”

“I don’t care. I am sick of it, offering after offering. Why don’t we just launch an attack on the other party? I don’t want to be bossed around anymore!”

“That will start a war! We are the Peacemakers! We are supposed to avoid war at all cost!”

“You are so naïve if you believe that good will actually win evil. That is in stories, stories! Fight poison with poison, good will never win evil. We are far stronger that those cat like creatures. We can win the war!”

“That is so not true!” growled Snowclaw.

Another creature, one slightly larger that Warfire, pounced out from the bush and pinned Jake to the ground.

“Offering,” it spoke.

Jake was sick of being so helpless around those creatures and being treating like nothing but a mere turkey, ready to be slaughtered and served as a meal.

“I AM NOT AN OFFERING!” he yelled.

For a moment, all the wolves’ eyes seemed to be fixed at something distant, and they spoke together.

“Not an offering…”

Jake was rather satisfied with himself when he felt energy being drained from him rapidly.

“Stop, stop STOP!” he pleaded in pain and desperation.

The feeling just stopped. The wolves returned to the way they were before he said that he was not an offering. A second later, all of them collapsed.

Busy

I'm busy with a couple of things recently, all out of ideas and might not be writing for a while. Firstly, there is the P1 project to promote harmony, then the summery for a book less than 100 pages (I still think that finding such a book and getting myself interested to read it is the harder part), and then there is a writing competition hosted by my English teacher. I've finish the piece, but there is still loads of editing to do. It is a competition piece so naturally, I have to put in more effort. I don't expect myself to win anything, but the writing process is just fun (though I don't mind getting the prize either).

Without a Style?

I didn't know why I wrote this piece, but it just came out. i didn't put much thought into it, so i thought it lacked style. I don't know, but you might like to leave a comment, telling me about how i can improve, that is, if you're kind enough.

Deep down in the ocean,

A seal swims,

Penetrating through the water.

High up in the skies,

A falcon soars,

Leaving the land far beneath it.

Amongst the trees of the forest,

A wolf hunts,

In search for precious food.

In the middle of the city,

A mother departs,

Unaware of the child she left behind.

In the midst of a battle,

People die,

With no one left to grieve for them.

Farewell

You could say that this is The Feast of the Wolves part two, it's up to you. Some bits doesn't make sense, but people, it is just a story.

The rocks rolled down the cliff as the wolf crept up. He gave a really long howl, though he did not expect the hairless creature to respond. They understand nothing. It was the season when puppies were produced. Spring was arriving, but lack of food was still a potential danger. There were jaguars around, and even snakes. The hairless creatures seemed to be just cubs, for they did not know how to hunt well. Despite that, they brought down a small deer. They will improve, gradually. That’s why they must be removed immediately. He howled again. Then, he led the pack down to where the hairless creatures were. They were dumb enough, for there was only one creature on guard. In its paws there was a sharp branch. It was probably used as a claw. They could reach it in one pounce when it noticed them. He moved a little closer to it. The creatures were so useless. It was almost deaf and blind, with no sense of smell at all. There were no hair on their bodies and they had no claws. Their teeth wouldn’t make any damage to wolf hide. It cried to its fellow pack mates as it toyed with the branch in its paws. Its pack barked back, but no creature came. He smiled. It ran, towards its pack mates. He smiled again. It was really untrained. When you faced predators, don’t lead it to your pack. Lead it away from your pack. He raised his tail to signal to his pack that it was time to attack. Almost instantly, the pack dashed forward and began the attack. He stayed back for awhile, looking at the victorious scene. The creatures couldn’t even defend themselves. He marched through the battle field, killing any hairless creature he saw. Then he found the guarding creature. It had a frightened look on its face. It made no resistance as he prepared to attack. He was about to sink his fangs into it when he felt it. Memories of the creature flowing into him. There was something that the creature could feel that he could not. That thing… … that thing… … it was a warm feeling, it felt safe. He felt truly happy for the first time in his life. That thing… … the creature called it love. He stopped, then backed away. He glanced at the creature. It was scared, but at the same time, there was something different about the creature. It was different from the other creatures. He thought deeply for a moment, then, ever so gently, tugged its hide. It breathed in suddenly, then understood his message. It began following him. He moved through the forest slowly, allowing the creature to keep up. He went to the other side of the island, where other hairless creatures were spotted. They were still there, with their large floating machine. The creature didn’t spot it at first, but as they drew nearer, it suddenly dashed forward. There were two creatures on guard there, and in their paws were a tube. There was no doubt that it was a weapon. These creatures were adults, and they were far more professional then the puppies. The two creatures wrapped their front paws around each other as the young creature said something to the adult. Another adult beside it raised its tube and pointed at him. It was going to kill him. Instinct told him to run, but he did not do so. He believed that even the hairless creatures had a heart. The young creature yapped at the creature with the tube, and the creature hesitated. Then the young creature went towards him. At first he drew back, but after considering that the young creature could not hurt him, he went forward. The creatures barked after it, but it didn’t seem to hear them. It stretched out its front paws and wrapped it around his neck. Uttering something, it ran back to its pack. It wasn’t long before they departed. As they left, he could see a tiny figure, some where on the machine, waving to him.

He howled a farewell howl.

When you live in 2007

I found this at one of the profiles of a member of Crunchyroll. Crunchyroll is basically a site where you get to watch anime and things like that. It loads videos fast but it is a bit blur.


---------------- You know you live in 2007 when... ----------------------
1.) You accidentally enter your password on a microwave.

2.) You haven't played solitaire with real cards for years

3.) The reason for not staying in touch with your friends is they don't have a screen name or my space

4.) You'd rather look all over the house for the remote instead of just pushing the buttons on the TV

6.) Your boss doesn't even have the ability to do your job.

7.) As you read this list you keep nodding and smiling.

8.) As you read this list you think about sending it to all your friends.

9.) And you were too busy to notice number 5.

10.) You looked back up to see if there was a number 5.

11.) Now you are laughing at yourself stupidly.

12.) Put this in your blog if you fell for that, and you know you did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Feast of the Wolves

I got this idea mainly from "the Lord of the Flies". the last sentence and the title was from "Feasting the Wolf". Basically, some bits are not original.

His grip around his spear tightened. It was nearly a fortnight since they landed, and they were beginning to lose faith in being rescued. The longer they waited, the less possible it seems to be. He glanced at the round moon. It was a fortnight, there was no doubt. He sniffed twice, and an overpowering smell was scented. It was the camp fire. They were roasting an old antelope. It was a tiny one, unlike what he imagined. He always thought that life in the forest would be fun. In books they always describe forest as such wonderful places, and hunting there was no more than hide and seek. But when it comes to real life, it was a different story. If you run too fast, there is a possibility that you will trip and fall on a dead branch. In their first hunt many people met such fates, and the number of people hurt was still increasing whenever they hunt. There were wolves about, posting potential danger to the teenagers, with howls that haunted the dreams of everyone. They were large, about a metre tall, and deadly to the teenagers. One wolf alone could do devastating damages to the whole group, not to mention a whole pack. There were about ten wolves, so when it comes to battling with them, one wolf would have to fight two to three people. Trust me, it was more than enough. They have also reported the sighting of large cats, probably jaguars. In short, it was a dangerous place. He toyed with the spear in his hand for a while. He never thought he would feel like that, but it was a fact. He missed his parents. For the past few years of his life he has always thought that he hated his parents , and they hated him. But he, for some reason, missed them. It was a strange feeling. Missing something you hate so much. Perhaps he doesn’t hate them at all. Perhaps he… …loved them? He then thought of all the things he had done. He cursed them, called them names, insulted them, and said bad things about them. He was, or so he thought, a very bad boy. It was two weeks, two weeks since he last saw them. It felt as if part of his life was missing. A very big bit to. It was as if someone took a bite out of him. It made him feel like crying. But he knew he could not cry, not where he was. There was no point. It would make things worse. They would call him a cry baby, or something like that. He would most probably be isolated from them. They did not understand that in that situation, team work was the most important thing. They thought that all those hunting and surviving was just a game, or a dream that they would soon wake up from. They understood nothing. Just then, a growl was heard from a corner. The wolf pack, it was preparing to strike. He shouldn’t have let his guard down. “Wolf!” he yelled to the rest of the boys. But they were too busy devouring the meat. “Don’t be stupid. You can join the feast if you want, but don’t make us all so tense. You know, you volunteered to do something all of us think is unnecessary,” one of them replied. “Please, it’s true!” he could not stand there any more, he had to run for his life. Without thinking, he ran towards the rest of the teenagers. Their eyes widened, then all hell broke lose. Yells of pain and cries of terror pierced the air. “We must all work together!” he commanded. But no one was listening, either that, or no one had the guts to carry out his plan. A wolf pounced onto him, but he made no resistance. It was all lost. There were just too many wolves, and the wolves were too strong.
The bodies were left to feast the wolves.

Snow Storm

I don't think I have the mood to type my PSLE exam piece any time soon. Here's another piece. I didn't know what to write back then, so I started off with my favorite title. The rest just flowed out of me like a torrent of unending ideas. Many were eliminated and the rest was translated into words.

It was a dark and gloomy night, with a snow storm menacing the town. The windows rattled as the mighty wind crashed into the window. Without stepping outside, you could already hear the wind howling furiously and it felt as if much heat was produced as the wind grazed against each other. The steps of the stairs creaked as a boy put his weight on it. He paused, ears strained to hear anything different. Nothing, the coast was clear. He crept to the side of the stairs where it didn’t creak. He stole his way up the stairs, and lay down on the floor in front of the second door to his left. He peeked into the gap between the door and the floor and saw claws. As the child stood up and placed a shaky hand and turned the knob… … a wolf-like puppy pounced out of the room and landed right on top of the boy. It was a large hybrid of a wolf, and could be easily mistaken as a full grown wolf because of its size. But a puppy was still a puppy, no matter what its size was. Covering the boy with licks, the puppy’s tail wagged rapidly. The boy smiled for the first time in a long while as he gripped the puppy’s collar. “Come on Rover, let’s go,” whispered the boy as he urged the hybrid wolf forward. The puppy gladly obeyed. It barked once, then twice. “Hush, Rover!” spoke the boy in a soft, pleading voice. His ears were strained once again. Nothing, it was still normal. The boy led the puppy down the stair. The puppy, being a puppy, was too young to understand the urgency in the boys words. It fumbled down the stairs rather nosily. The wooden stairs groaned and creaked, and the boy intensified his grip on the puppy’s collar, hoping that the sound of the wind along would be enough to mask the racket made by the young dog. The boy grabbed a coat that he left on the sofa and wore it. Then, with a wobbling hand, he opened the main door and stepped outside. The unwilling puppy whimpered twice, but was dragged outside. “Rover, please. Come on, I know you are a brave wolf,” spoke the boy who didn’t bother to whisper. He doubt that the puppy could even hear him, for the wind would most probably blow his words away from the reluctant puppy.

A teenager stepped out of the door as she stretched and inhaled the early morning’s fresh air. She was about to go back into the house when she spotted a rather large wolf-like dog on the streets. Being a dog lover, she approached it in a friendly and yet defensive manner. The dog did not retreat or bark. Instead, much to her surprise, it stared at her with such yielding eyes. She smiled and patted it twice. Then it tugged her sleeve and stood up to leave. She sighed as she saw it walk away. The dog looked back at her, and barked twice. Without knowing the reason, the confounded teenager followed the dog to a rather deserted alley. A scream that rang through the whole neighborhood woke practically everyone in the town.

The Survivor

NOTICE: THIS IS NOT MY EXAM PIECE

All of the survivors were not alive. I believe that the ship was cursed. She was a new ship, one that was thoroughly tested. She passed all of them, and was considered the ultimate ship. Only the richest could afford to board her. It was the last night of her first voyage, and I was sitting at the balcony, savoring the stillness of the ocean. It was then when I saw her, the magnificent ship, sailing back to port. I felt proud for such a ship to be built in my country. Then it happened. I saw it with my very eyes. She lost control, gained speed and smashed into a cliff. I heard a dog bark, and many people screamed. The police was summoned, but they arrived too late. She had already sunk. It all happened so fast I could hardly react.

The next day it was reported on the news that more than half of the passengers on that ship died, and the reason why she sank was still unknown. I was shocked. After passing the tests, half of the passengers died. But there was more. In the subsequent few days, all of the survivors died one by one. My shock soon turned into fear. Only a young boy, who lost both of his parents and his dog, survived. I presumed that his death day was near.

It was two weeks since the accident, and the boy disappeared. Nobody except me has seen him since. That night, I was at the balcony again, glancing at the sea and the very spot she sank. Ships have been avoiding that spot, thinking that it was cursed. It was then when I saw him, at the shore, staring at the ocean before him. The waves of that beach were well known for its vicious waves that gobbled up both the shore and anyone there at night. I feared for the boy. I ran towards him, shouting, “GET AWAY FROM THERE! YOU’LL DIE!” But he didn’t seem to hear me. He took a step towards the sea, and as I approached, I heard him say, “Rex, bring them back, please. I’ll be waiting.” Then he was gone. Just like that. He disappeared. I leaped back in fright, sitting on the sand, confounded. After my desperate attempts to comprehend what had just happened, I could not find any answers. I left the beach, running as the ocean swallowed the sand.

I spent many nights at the balcony, enjoying the company of the ocean. Occasionally, on the most peaceful nights, I’ll have another companion, a shadowy figure, who always stood at the shore. I never attempt to rescue him anymore, for I know what would happen next. I doubt that he died, but he’s not quite alive either. A figure in the shadows of the waves, waiting.

PSLE!!!

Today is PSLE english for me. I was looking forward to the composition exam until it started. It was not as promising as it seemed to be. The situational writing was about a complain letter, and the composition topics were some one throwing eggs from the building above and a power failure in a MTR train. Of couse, as usual, I chose the third question, the power failure one. i can't say that i'm happy, but at least satisfied. i could not think of anything special, so too bad. But i still think that i wrote quite well. I wrote in my style of writing. My sentence structure and ending felt good to me. i will post it here soon, of course, it'll be based on memory.

Bird

A flying bird,

Can soar, can circle, can swoop.

A hunting hawk,

Shall find, shall catch, shall eat.

A hungry crow,

Must dig, must look, must eat.

A desperate ostrich,

Might run, might escape, might die.

All kinds of birds,

Have feathers, have beaks, have life.

Hawk -- the first piece

I opened my eyes. The crimson sun rose unusually. It looked the same, but something was definitely wrong. The world smelled wrong. I looked around me. I was in a forest. I’m in the forest. I need to get out of here quickly, before the wolves devour me. I tried used my arms to help me stand up, but again, something was wrong. I looked at my ‘arms’. There, right in front of my very eyes, was a pair of wings

Something in the grass suddenly darted away. A wolf was near. In a few quick seconds, I surveyed my whole body. I was, without a doubt, a bird. To be precise, a red hawk. Why? I asked myself. The answer came almost automatically. Because I killed a red hawk yesterday. I stabbed it in its heart. I deeply regretted my action, but would it make a difference now? With a wolf stalking me, will regretting make a difference? It might, but only a little bit. I would die feeling sorry for myself. Is there any thing I can do now to make a huge difference? Something like saving my life? Yes, of course, I can escape, but can a hawk out run a wolf? No, but it can out fly one. I began to flap my wings. No good, I’m not flying. I could hear the wolf advancing towards me. A soft paw step. I flapped my wings again. Yes, I could feel my light body rising bit by bit. But, it was too slow. I flapped my wings harder. I’m still not fast enough. Faster! Faster! FASTER!

Swish! I was flying. The wolf howled angrily behind me. I flew clumsily through the sky. “Hey!” another hawk screech when I bumped into her, “you’re flying like a new born!” “I am a new born, sort of,” I muttered to myself. The hawk stared suspiciously at me. “You’re not really a hawk, are you?” I stared back in surprise. “How did you know?” “I saw you, you appeared out of nowhere!” “I… … I… …” “What are you?” “Well I’m… … I’m a human.” It was the hawk’s turn to be shocked. “Human! The hated species! I’m going to claw every single feather from your skin!” I flew as quickly as I could.

Just as I was feeling happy that I was flying, I flew into a tree and fell to the ground with a small thud. “Groan… …” The hawk swooped down. “Are you okay?” she asked. I groaned again. “Sorry, I was just playing, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she cried. “It’s not your fault. I’m clumsy.” “You are not really a human, are you?” she asked. I hesitated, the said, “I am.” And I told her about my story. “You’re the one who killed Hawkstar!” “I… … was stupid back then, but I got my punishment, okay? Look, I’m a hawk now!” “Well… … I you want to live as a hawk, then you’ll have to learn to fly properly and catch your won prey. Nobody’s going to feed you. I’m Hawkrain”

For the rest of the day, Hawkrain taught me about maintaining balance while I was in the sky and how to ride a rising current. I was interesting. I managed to catch my first prey at evening. “You learn fast,” Hawkrain said. I was happy. I flew as high as I could, as if I was chasing the clouds, the sent myself flying towards the ground. Ah! To feel the wind in my body! Just as I was about to hit the ground I changed direction and flew towards the sky. I circled in the sky for a while to catch my breath then began to fly upwards again. “WATCH OUT!” Hawkrain yell. But all was too late. I felt a bullet penetrate through my body. I plummeted downwards. Help, I yelled silently. But, there was no use. Death was all that lie in my future. A stunning impact, a blinding flash of light.

Thump, thump, thump. What is that sound? Can it be… … can it be? … YES! That sound was, without a doubt, the beating of my heart! Thump, thump, thump. The sound, oh! How I love it! I opened my eyes. I was back in my room, face whiter than apiece of paper.

Evening soon came. I went to the forest just in time to see a hawk plummet towards the ground. That was I. Another hawk circled in the air, screeching loudly. The hunter reloaded his gun while his dog went to fetch ‘my’ body. “STOP!” I yelled. The hunter did not hear me. I jumped onto him as he pressed the trigger. A pain shot through my hand as the bullet pierce through it. “FLY AWAY! HAWKRAIN, FLY AWAY!” I yelled. Hawkrain understood my words. She flew away. I thought that it would be the last time I would see her, but when I went home one day, I found a hawk sitting on my windowsill. It was then when I finally found my best friend.

Predator and Prey

I grabbed the stupid blanket of mine and threw it onto the floor. It was a warm night and I could not sleep. Dawn approached steadily and there was a major exam for me the day after. I needed all the sleep I could get. After lying on my bed for a moment, I got up and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of cool water. I filled the glass and held my hand under the tap for a while, allowing the cool water to cool my hands. I gladly drained the water for the glass and went back to my room.

CRASH! Oh no, I thought. My neighbours were at it again. First the weather, now my neighbours, what is next? They were a few classmates who shared the same apartment. They could not seem to lice a day without arguing. At times, they would throw things around and break them. Wait a moment! I saw them leaving for a holiday overseas just a few hours ago! They could not be back so soon. I sat upright, and then lay down again. If it was a robber, he could steal all he wanted. He is not stealing my things anyway. Then again, that thief was too clumsy. Probably my ears were playing a trick on me. I held my breath and listened. There were no shouts, and no one was hurling vulgarities. With my heart thumping hard against my chest, and a lump in my throat, I anxiously glance at the window. There were no lights on. “It is none of your business, go back to sleep,” this irritating voice in my head said. “Oh shut your trap,” I muttered as I crawled out of my bed, planning to deal with something none of my business. I groped in the dark until I found my keys. My parents were out and my hopeless brother was snoring like a pig. You could get an orchestra to play the loudest music and he would not even stir in his sleep.

I opened the door, which seemed to be aware that something had happened and opened without its usual creak, with a pair of shaky hands. I stepped out and made my way towards my neighbours’ house, unaware about the fact that I was not wearing any shoes. As I drew nearer to my neighbours’ house, I could sense a strong tobacco in the air. My neighbours did not smoke. As I crept nearer, I could see that the door was left ajar. Even my stupid neighbours would know that you had to lock your door after you got in. I could fell my heart racing faster and faster. If there were a race, my heart would have won.

“I have to think properly,” I murmured to myself. I breathed in deeply and allowed myself to calm down. Now I would list the facts. First, I had an important exam the day after and there I was, standing in front of my neighbours’ door in the middle of the night. Second, I could be sleeping soundly in my room instead of acting like a detective. Third, I was standing barefooted there, when I could just call the police and tell them everything to close the case. I wanted to call the police, but when I reached into my pocket, I found it empty. I sighed and reached into the other one, expecting to find my keys. It was empty. Great, I must have dropped it somewhere. I looked around frantically and saw it. My keys were inside my own house, out of my reach, wonderful. I rand the door bell a few times, although I did not expect that pig brother of mine to come to my rescue. He never did.

I sighed again. Slowly pushed open the door, I made my way into my neighbours’ house. I picked up the cordless phone and wanted to call the police, but I saw the thief advancing towards me slowly, the way predators sneak upon their prey. I, the prey, had to run, for I could never camouflage. However, where should I go? If I went out, the “predator” would just catch me. Then an idea struck me. I took a few steps backwards. The “predator” increased his speed. I felt for the doorknob behind me. Bingo, there it was. I opened it slowly… then dashed in, slamming it close, then locking it. Safely inside the room, I called the police and waited. I smiled to myself. I had outwitted my “predator.”

After a while, the thief seemed to be aware that something was about to happen. He stopped trying to force open the door and bolted towards the exit. Too late, I had won the game. A few police officers were waiting for him, and he dashed straight into their hands. Handcuffed, that “predator of mine was gladly brought back to the police station by the police officers. They thanked my and I made my way home. After ringing the doorbell for the ninety-ninth time, a grumpy faced pig opened the door. Satisfied that I had outwitted the thief, I lay on my bed smiling to myself as the rising sun cast its golden rays upon a city that was soon to be awaken. Suddenly, I sat up again. My exam! My sleep! “oh no,” I groaned. The curiosity killed the “prey”.

______________________________

PSLE is tomorrow. i got back a few of my exam pieces today. my main problem is my grammer, so i typed out one of my pieces as corrections. since it's typed out my as well post it here. there it is.

Vacancy in the Heart -- my daydream extract

The female staggered, then fell onto her knees. She could no longer walk for she had no strength. A distant rumbling was heard, and it pushed her to stand up. Without walking more than two steps, she collapsed again. This time she lay still on the ground, still breathing, absolutely exhausted. She knew that she had to hurry if she wanted to live. Every cell in her body knew that. Despite that, her body would not move. There was too much fatigue. Totally, thoroughly, drain of stamina. Her mouth felt dry, for it was days since she last drank. The rumbling grew louder as the snow storm drew nearer. I and the dead, she thought. It was snowing again. Large flakes of freezing snow rained onto her. It was not long before she was totally submerged under the white substance. Then she heard the soft thump made by trotting horses. She wanted to move, to seek help, but her body felt numb. Help was so near, but yet so far. The thump stopped. For a moment that seemed like years, she heard nothing. Then gloves were scraping against the snow. Paws too. Soon, she was above ground. It was a man, with his dog. He carried her limped body onto he carriage, then started it. She was aware of her surroundings, but was too tired to react. Darkness ate away the corners of her vision as he eyes fell close.

There was not much to eat during the storm. The man did not have more that some antique bread crumb and sips of water. It was confounding. It took weeks to travel from town to town, and yet the man brought no food. She never saw him eat anyway. When she was strong enough to remember more then mere scraps of information, she found that she never remember seeing his face. He wore a cape with a hood, casting a shadow over his face, and a sword fastened to his belt, concealed by the cape. He spoke little, sheer grunts of orders. But his dog seemed to understand even the slightest grunt from him. it was as if he could talk to his dog. The carriage was in a cave, and the horses freed from its hold. The man didn’t seem afraid that they’ll run away. The man never spent more that five minutes in the carriage. He slept under it. The question of how he stood against the cold was never answered. Neither was the question of how and why he did not eat. They all remained as mysteries to her till this day, long after her death. Finally, the storm stopped. He brought her home and left without even looking back. It was not that she expected him to do so, but when ever she looked at the back view of the departing carriage, she felt a strange sense of belonging. She called out to hum, asking him to stop. Then she requested for his name. Without seeing his face, she felt the presence of a sad smile. “A shadow,” he spoke, “in your life. That’s what I am.” And so, he left. Reserving an empty, vacant spot in her heart. A shadowy, unsolved mystery in her mind.

Under the Crescent Moon (exploring new writing styles)

He paced up and down in his living room. To tell, or not to tell? He could not make up his mind. She was the first person who accepted him as a friend since that day. He should have never kept it a secret from her. But now all that mattered was whether he would tell her and how. Would he risk it? Could he risk it? Would she judge him for who he was, or how he is now? The questions lingered in his mind long after the incident. The doorbell rang. His mouth felt so dry it kept sticking to the top of his mouth. In a few quick steps he rushed to open the door. There she was, beautiful as ever. Her sapphire blue eyes were mesmerizing. Her scent, it filled his eyes, nose, and mouth. Their eyes met, and they stood there in silence for a while. Then she asked him if he was going to let her in and what the important thing he wanted to tell her was. He invited her in and went to get some water for the both of them. Finally, they both sat down, facing each other. She told him to tell her what he wanted to say, and he asked her if she really wanted to know. She nodded. He toyed with his fingers for a while, the told her everything, stammering every now and then. He saw the colour got drained from her face. When he finished, he asked for her forgiveness. He reached out to stroke her hair. She shoke her head, backed away and told him that she was leaving. Without hesitation she ran out of the open door. He sat there for a while in bewilderment and sorrow, then raced out after her. He called out to her, but she ignored him. He reached out to grab her arm and pulled her back. Only then did he realise that tears were flowing down her cheek, only centermetres away. Their eyes met for the second time. In the midst of the night, two shadowy figures kissed, bathed in the soft light from the crescent moon.

Sunset

I watched, the sun, as it left,

A huge blazing ball,

Plunging into the huge mass of water.

It called to me,

Pleading me to follow it.

Far into the horizon,

A place where no one ever went,

A place that no one ever dreamt of.

To the fading light,

I waved.

See you, my friend, tomorrow.

Outlaw

“This is the end,” spoke the knight, “or shall I say, your end.” “You will fall,” sneered the other, hacking the air before him with his heavy battleaxe. “You,” spat the knight as he pointed his sword at his opponent, “shall not live to see the sunrise.” He immediately regretted what he had declared. “Fine, if I see the sun, you lose and die.” “There is no one here to witness what I had just said,” he paused, letting a sour expression creep onto the warrior’s face, “but I shall keep it.” The warrior toyed with his battleaxe and pointed at his own forehead. “If you can even scratch my forehead, you win. I doubt this will last more than five minutes.” “Agreed. Enough of this junk, start!” almost instantaneously, the knight disappeared, wanting to surprise the axe wielder from the back. But the latter knew his style and slammed his axe into the space behind him. Doing so, he used both of his hands. A whisper was heard, “Not bad, but end of show.” Holding his dagger in his free hand, he reached up and marked a single line across the warrior’s forehead. The warrior, totally taken by surprise, stood there, aghast, then he closed his eyes, deep in thoughts. “That’s what you think,” the warrior said, despite his promise, “The real show has just begun. Good will always overcome evil, I will never lose” Sighing, the knight jumped out of the warrior’s way and concealed himself. “In a battle, my friend, what you fight for doesn’t matter. How you fight does.” His voice seemed to come from all sides and the warrior was unable to distinguish where it came from. “ I’ll never be your friend you son of the –“ Everything halted. The breathing of the man not far from death paused, even the passing wind ceased. After a long silence, the knight spoke, “What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?!” The warrior smiled and replied, “bitch.” “Never insult my mother I’m telling you! NEVER!” The warrior’s head went flying and blood was spilled onto the ground. The knight walked away as if nothing every happened. So, he thought, I have not choose the way of the knight, the one I’ve always wanted, but the way of the outlaw. Having killed such an important warrior of the city, the knight found no other category that he could classify himself in. the people in the city would never look at him like a normal person now. He was an outlaw. What would he do now, as an outlaw? Rob? Steal? Or kill? None suited him. I need to find a place to settle down. He walked away from the scene of murder, never to be seen again. The crimson sun rose, marking the start of a new day.

I hate my life

Ever thought that your life suck so much you fell like just smashing everything infront of you? Congratulations, join the club. Today can't be worse. I woke up at five in the morning, realizing that it's only five, and then after spending like half an hour, i finally went back to sleep. Then i had to wake up at six again to go to school. When i went to school i found out that i left my maths worksheet at home. Then i found another copy in my bag, totally blank. When my teacher was going through i had to scribble like mad. After school i still had to stay back for supplementary lesson until 3.30, which meant that i will only reach home at 4. Yay, i forgot to mention that i have 4 four worksheets which i need to finish by tomorrow and tuition from 7 to 9. 'Lucky' me. I'm telling you, I'm NOT doing.

Year 2540 -- the World's end

The clan leader was a man of great wisdom. But no matter how great you are, you cannot overcome the power of Mother Nature – or what’s left of it. We humans don’t consider ourselves as part of the natural environment, for we think that we are the mightiest and the greatest. But I’ve always believed that we are part of it. My tribe staggered along, with the tribe leader in the lead. It was days since we last drank and the grey clouds looked ominous, but promising. The tribe leader sniffed the moist air. “It’s about time.” I believed I heard a groan. I smiled to myself silently. The time has finally come, the time when humans finally realize that they are part of nature. Rain began to fall as the tribe scaled the cliff. And along the way, a few fell and didn’t make it. But no one turned back. With the same fate before us, no one cared. We found a small modest cave, where we took refuge from the rain. No one spoke a word; we just sat down in silence. Form the cave I could see our far away city, which used to look so grand and magnificent. But now it’s just like all the other cities, standing there, abandoned. I closed my eyes and waited for the world to close itself, with only the sound of breathing and the patter of rain interrupting my concentration. We waited. The sound of breathing softens, then stopped completely. Everyone was limped and cold. I sat there, alone, and waiting… … waiting… …

Some thoughts

Actually to me, I don't really like Singapore's primary school education system. It's like you can just score by memorizing and memorizing. Just after the exams you can forget all that you've learn. For schools that force pupils to memorize compositions, I think that it's even more pointless. Writing, to me, is a kind of enjoyment, not a chore. But if someone made me memorize compositions when I was young, I'll think that writing compositions is a chore. I don't have my own style, I'm just rewriting something that someone else has written. You might say that you get high marks and things like that, but is going to school just about scoring in exams? Is writing just about scoring in exams? I don't enjoy writing Chinese compositions, particularly because it has little room for imagination. It is a chore to me. Totally meaning less since I can't really express myself in those compositions. In my school, writing Chinese compositions is just memorizing good phrases, not actually enjoying it. What, I always ask myself, is the point in doing that?

Kiba, Thank You

It happened a few years back, when I was still studying in primary school. For me, my happiest moment of my life was back then, when I am still in primary school. When I was twelve, I was trying my best to be obedient and wishing that I’ll grow up quickly.

I was walking under the boiling hot sun and wondering what was the meaning of my life. Back then, I spent the last six years of my life in primary school, doing tons and tons of homework. They’re supposed to improve my knowledge, but till today, I find them useless. We humans work and work and work without knowing why. We just work. We lived and die. Just like that. We come and go, and most of us don’t make a huge impact to the world. We spend much of our lives doing what we detest – either working. After doing much thinking, I found that I could not stand the heat and sought refuge at a nearby void deck. It was, perhaps, the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. Waiting for me at the void deck, was a huge white dog, or maybe it was a wolf, I’m not sure. The dog was not a stray, for it wore a collar, but was really thin and I could see its rib cage. I was told by my mother not to feed dogs, stray or not. But there was this voice in my head that say, “Look at that poor thing. You have a half-eaten sandwich in your pocket. Just feed it. You live only once, if that’s what you want, do it. Rules are made to be broken.” I hesitated, then offered it the sandwich.

The dog was probably starving. After two quick sniffs at the sandwich, it gobbled the sandwich down. I took a close look at the collar. “Kiba” was written on one side and on the other was some kind of address I didn’t bother to read back then. I smiled and patted Kiba on his head and left. He followed me all the way home. I ran, I walked in circles, but he still followed me. Defeated by Kiba’s patience, I turned around and stared into his eyes, saying, “Shoo! Don’t follow me. You’ll only get me into trouble.” He seemed to understand and whined a couple of times, flattened his ears and gave me a sorry look and left. For a moment I regretted. It might be the last time I’m seeing him.

The shocking thing was, when I stepped out of school I found Kiba there, waiting for me. For the next month he appeared there everyday, waiting for me. I would buy a sandwich and offer it to Kiba, who gladly accepted. Then, for the second time in my life, I deliberately broke another rule of my mother. The reason why I did it was simple. We only live once, and I’m going to enjoy mine. I told my mother that I was going to the library, but actually I was at the park playing with Kiba. We continued doing it until the end of my primary school life. That was, perhaps, the happiest moments in my life.

Happy times are bound to end. One day my mother questioned me why I was always sweating and smelled like a dog when I came back from the air conditioned library. I didn’t want her to find out about Kiba, so I made an excuse and escaped as soon as I could. My heart raced. If she did find out about Kiba, I would be in deep trouble. But it would be really suspicious if I just stopped sweating and smelling like a dog. From that day onwards, I spend lesser and lesser time playing with Kiba. Then we stopped going there. I changed school but despite that, he still waited at the school gate and I never fail to offer him his sandwich.

There was this day when Kiba didn’t turn up. I was really worried. I don’t know why but I ran all the way from my new school to the void deck where I first met him. I’m still puzzled why I could do that without stopping to rest. Back then, there was only on thing in my mind. Kiba. As I approached I heard the whimpering of a dog. I knew immediately what had happened. Just like I expected, a few teenagers was crowding around Kiba, kicking him. Powered by rage I threw myself onto them, although one of them was nearly twice my size. They threw me onto the floor and kicked me hard. I curled up like a snail, desperately trying to protect my head. When they finally stopped, I could taste blood in my mouth. I managed to catch a glimpse of Kiba, whose fur was stained with blood and turned red, attacking them before I lost conscious.

After that incident I often wondered why no one came to my aid when I was unconscious, and that mystery remained unsolved till today. It was raining when I woke and it washed away all evidence that the battle every occurred, all except my wounds. Neither Kiba nor the teenagers were around. When I stood up shakily, I found Kiba’s collar in my hands. I staggered home disappointedly, inventing a lie to prevent my parents from learning about the truth. When they demanded for more details, I merely said, “It’s my fault,” and retreated into my room.

One of the many mysteries in my life was why I decided to visit Kiba’s owner after the incident. Maybe I wanted to know more about Kiba’s condition, for he had never visited me since the incident. A small, lean face of an old man appeared after I rang the door bell a few times. “What do you want? I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer. I’m a poor lad myself.” I could not speak and help up the collar. His eyes widened and he invited me in. His apartment was small and neat, with no sign of dog hair anywhere. “Kiba’s at the vet?” I quizzed. “Nah, he’s probably with god. He was a saint when he was alive.” My heart missed a beat. “Kiba’s DEAD!” “Of course he is. In fact, he’s dead for almost twenty years now. Tomorrow’s his twenty fifth birthday. Where did you get that collar? It was burned together with Kiba’s body right before my very eyes!” I stared at the old man, aghast. “But… …” and so I told him about my tale. He laughed. “He has always been a playful dog. Perhaps he’s just stretching his old bones.” I offered to give the old man Kiba’s collar, but he refused. With that, I said goodbye and left, still thinking.

Till this day I haven’t found a convincing reason why Kiba came back, but I’m glad that he did. I don’t believe in supernatural things. You might say that he changed my life, turned me from a angle to a devil, but it was Kiba who taught me how to live, it was him who gave me a personality. If not for him, I’ll still be following the rules. I’ll either become the most boring person on earth, or a robot. Thank you, Kiba.

__________________________SPOILER___________________________________
This didn't happen to me. I'm still twelve for haven's sake

Devoured -- an exam piece

“Are you scared. Jake?” mocked Stefen, my best friend. “Definitely not!” I retorted. But there was this feeling somewhere inside my saying, “Come on! The mere thought of going into the forest can send shivers down your spine, not to say actually going into it.” “Then let’s go, unless you’re… …” I growled and stepped into the forest. Cautiously walking into the forest, I turned around to make sure that Stefen was following me. He was not. “Hey, you should come in too, unless you’re … …” I never got to finish my sentence. As I turned around again, I heard the bush rustle. “Who’s there… …” Wrong move. What ever that thing was, it pounced onto me. I yelled and pushed it off desperately. I felt something warm, and saw something black. Without looking, I pushed it off and headed for the abandon construction site. Yet another wrong move.

With Stefen behind me, we soon reached a dead end. Blocked by a stiff brick wall, we had to think fast. I grabbed a stone nearby and hurled it at the thing that was chasing me, what appeared to be a huge, black dog. The dog evaded it professionally and growled at us. Once or twice we tried to scale the wall, but to no avail. There was nothing that could help us climb. Behind me, I heard the dog growl again, preparing to pounce on its prey. “I have an idea,” whispered Stefen. “What is it! Tell me before that dog gobbles us up or before I die of old age!” “Fine, fine, but you won’t like it.” He told me his idea, and I didn’t like it. It could save at least one of our lives, but I didn’t like it anyway. “It’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard in my life!” I spat. “It’s not. You’re just too cowardly to accept it, or even carry it out. We’ll just sit here and let that stupid old dog devour us.” I inhaled deeply, then said, “Fine, let’s do it.” Stefen smiled. “I’ll be the one to run first, since it was my idea to go into the forest.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he interrupted, “That’s what friends are for.”

He stuck out his fist and raised one finger. The second one went up. Then the third one. Before you could say “STOP!” he was off. The dog pounced onto him just as we expected. I ran pass the dog without it knowing. Before Stefen was out of sight, I turned my head for the third time in the day. There he was, desperately fighting with that dog, defending his neck and here I was, running away. “GO!” he yelled, “AND DON’T TURN BACK!”

I could feel the boiling hot tears welling up me eyes. I ran, stumbling several times. I continued running despite my wounds, they didn’t hurt back then. “It’s over, his dead,” said the voice in my head when I heard Stefen scream. I shoke the thought out of my head and dodged every obstacle I encountered until another brick wall stood before me. Angrily, I howled, “DON’T YOU DARE BLOCK MY PATH AGAIN!” and I scaled it. This time, there were a few boxes beside the wall and I used them. I soon arrived at the busy street. “HELP! HELP! A BLACK DOG IS DEVOURING MY FRIEND.” But everyone just stared at me as if I was mad. I might be, but I’ll never know. Knowing that no one would come to my aid, I ran to the nearest police station and informed the policeman on duty. They rushed to the construction site without delay, but all was too late. They were gone. Stefen and the black dog, both gone. Traces of blood were found, but no body nor bones. I cursed the dog, and joined the policemen in searching for Stefen. His body was not found after hours of searching. “That’s it, it’s over,” said that voice again. I thought for a while, then replied, ”No. That’s what friends are for.”

Mere plate of rice

Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, there was a poor town. Somewhere in the town, there was a posh restaurant. Only the rich could afford to go there for meals. Why it was built there, nobody knows. Most of the people there walked along the street, eyes looking for food. They fought for every grain of rice or every bread crust. They would have robbed the restaurant if not for the guards there. They were heavily armed with guns that could kill easily. It was not an offence to kill someone there.

A crash was heard on the street outside the restaurant. It was a plate of rice. The people outside froze and then they crept towards the restaurant. The guards pulled their pistols out of their sheaths and pointed it at one of the men.

“Stop right there!” hollered one of the guards.

Everyone halted. The guard paid full attention and gave them no chance of closing in the restaurant. The chef threw the plate of rice out the window. Again, everyone froze. One more step and they’d get their meal, but would anyone dare? One starving man could not resist the temptation anymore. He dashed towards the rice, hoping that the guards would have mercy and left him alone. It must be his first time here, for everyone else knew that the guards have no mercy for anything.

Bang! Down he went. The rest of the ravenous men dashed towards the food, their only meal for a few days straight. The guards shot the ones who ran first or the ones who left last. They always did, they always will.

As the crowd began to scramble away, leaving the dead behind. There was no one left to grieve for them, for even their loved ones left them behind. One guard whispered to the other, “The war did it. The war changed everyone in town.”

Just to say hi

I'm starting this blog because I'm so bored. I've got nothing to do, as in, nothing i really want to do. I've been playing a lot of computer, but I'm starting to get bored of lagging when I play. I'm always losing anyway. I don't feel like doing homework and things like that such as revision. Right now, my sole past time is reading and writing stories. I still play a bit computer games, but not so much. I'll be publishing my stories and pieces here.