Living In Her Shadow (Poem)

She was the life of the party
Wherever she went.
I merely followed,
Like a shadow in her wake.

We will always be best friends, she tells me
Sounding so sure of herself
As if words alone could cement
Our dying friendship.

She does not know
How ugly I imagine myself to be,
Whenever I'm around her.
Like some worthless person
No one would ever notice.

She does not know
How insignificant I feel
Every single time
She tells me all about the latest guy
In addition to the many others

They try to woo her
Vying for her affection, her attention
Showering her with gifts and calls
In an attempt to win her heart.

While I sit at the sidelines,
Always listening,
Always watching,
But never participating.

Like a substitute player,
Overlooked by the audience,
Lowly regarded by my friends,
Unnoticed by everyone.

She does not know,
How hard I try.
To be like her.
To look like her.

Hiding my face with cosmetics
Applying them thickly,
To erase all the flaws,
Both imagined and real.

Yet I knew,
No amount of make-up
Could disguise the insecurity within.
What I could only borrow,
Was false confidence.
And pretended arrogance.

For she has stolen mine away.
Cursing me to live in her shadow
Forever and always.

Lost Inside (Poem)

You rummage through your wardrobe,
Wondering which personality you should wear out today,
Acting out a different character,
Each time you hit the streets.

You go through life searching
For a chance to say 'I' proudly.
For a change that will remain.
For a true identity.

Your words are typed out lines from a script,
Smeared with fake emotions & false sincerity.
You seem to be acting out a scene from a play,
In which you place yourself as the star role.

Constantly seeking attention,
Yet never getting it,
Your cry to be noticed goes unheard.
Lost within the throngs of people,
As they push past you.

Who would notice someone without an identity?
Who would notice someone without a sense of purpose?
Who would notice someone who, despite everything,
Is still a little girl

lost inside.

The Lady In Black (Short Story)

"Brother, let's go to the park today!" I sang cheerfully, tugging at my older brother's arm insistently.

He was busy doing his homework like the nerd that he is, complete with geeky glasses and bad skin.

There was one time, out of the goodness of my heart, that I'd tried to improve his looks by applying make-up to his face while he was sleeping.

As he was a heavy sleeper, he did not stir at all while I happily smeared dark red lipstick around his open mouth and brushed his cheeks with Mother's bright pink blusher.

I thought he looked ever so pretty after I was done. Honestly, I did.

Sadly, he did not seem to share the same sentiments when he woke up and went to the bathroom. He even yelled at me for being 'so horribly idiotic and mean'.

I think he was still rather mad at me over that incident because he didn't even glance up when I was talking to him, only pausing to sigh dramatically when he heard my voice.

"I have to do my work, little sis," he proclaimed to me self-importantly, rustling his papers to give me the impression that he truly had a lot of 'important stuff to do'.

I was not to be put off so easily.

"But it's such a nice day, brother!" I protested. "The sun is shining ... the sky is the clearest shade of blue ..."

My big brother sighed again as he adjusted his thick black glasses.

"Haven't you heard of the story, little sis?" he asked, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"What story?"

"The story about The Lady In Black?"

My curiosity was instantly captured as I started pestering him to tell the story to me. Amazingly, he consented.

Putting down his pen, he started talking ...

"Now, it is whispered all over the town that every Sunday without fail, a mysterious lady would take a stroll around the park together with her dog.

This lady was always dressed in a jet black trench coat and bright red high heels. The brim of her large black hat always covered her eyes, revealing only a pale complexion and strikingly crimson lips. Her hands were always gloved in white, no matter what the weather was. It made everyone wonder whether her hands had been disfigured for her to sheathe them in gloves.

Her dog, on the other hand, cut a decidedly less impressive figure trotting beside his mistress. No one could put a finger on what breed it actually belonged to, thus it was classified as a mongrel.

Every Sunday, this lady and her dog would stroll around the park three times. She spoke to no one and minded her own business. Thus, she was not noticed by many at first.

The first sign of her bizarreness only started to show after a few weeks. Having become a regular park-goer, others began to recognize her upon sight and nicknamed her 'The Lady In Black'.

The children were more interested in her dog, for it looked so adorable and harmless and they longed to play with it. Yet they did not dare to approach the Lady for she exuded an air of sheer aloofness.

Then, after a few weeks, on a sunny Sunday morning, she suddenly stopped beside a group of them and gave them a tiny smile and a nod.

This was all the encouragement they needed and they scrambled over each other to pet the dog. At first, the dog seemed to enjoy all the petting and cooing that it was receiving from the children. The children too, were happily stroking the dog's fur and generally enjoying themselves playing with the dog.

All seemed well.

Then, the Lady slowly pursed her lips and made a soft, sharp whistle.

Almost immediately, there was a subtle shift in the change of moods.

The dog, which had seemed happy up to that point of time, suddenly snarled at the unfortunate child who was petting it at that point of time and sank its teeth into his fingers.

The sudden ferocity of this attack by the dog threw the other children off balance and they could only stare in shock as the unfortunate boy's fingers were ripped clean off from his hand.

Shrieking in agony, the boy collapsed to the grass, pressing his mutilated hand tightly against his chest.

"Oh dear, I do apologize for my dog's horrid behaviour," the Lady spoke suddenly. It was the first time anyone had ever heard her speak.

Her voice was soft and musical, yet her tone was merely puzzled politeness. She then proceeded to pick up the bitten off fingers one by one in a methodical fashion and carefully placed them in a plastic ziplock bag that she'd whipped out from her trench coat pocket. Her white gloved hands were stained with blood now but she did not seem particularly bothered by it.

It was only after she'd left that one of the children had enough sense to run and call their parents to the gory scene. There was something about her voice that had hypnotized them, caused them to freeze like frightened animals rooted to the spot.

Strangely enough, the Lady still continued to go to the same park every Sunday, acting as though nothing had happened. She did not seem to think she was the one responsible for the mutilation of an innocent child's fingers.

The angry father of the injured boy had tried to confront her but for some reason, she always seemed to elude him no matter how hard he tried to follow her. Eventually, he had no choice but to give up chasing her.

The buzz over this bizarre event eventually died down and everything seemed to be back to normal again. Until the Lady struck again.

This time, she targeted a young girl not more than 6 years old. The girl had been sitting on the grass and happily brushing her fingers against the mimosas when the Lady approached her.

"My, what delicate fingers you have, little one," she said in an admiring tone as she bent down to survey the girl's hands. The dog also moved forward to sniff at the girl's fingers.

The little girl looked up, curious to see who the stranger was. Her mother had gone off to the nearby grocery store to buy something and she was waiting at the park for her to come back.

"Who are you?" she asked innocently. She did not mean to sound rude but sometimes, young children had a tendency to be direct in their questions.

The Lady laughed merrily. It was a pleasant sound tinkling in the air and the girl could not help but smile too.

"My dear, surely you must have heard of me," the Lady said, her crimson lips curving up slightly. "I'm known as the Lady in Black in this park."

Now, the little girl was not a regular park-goer, but the buzz over the previous incident had reached her ears and she had not forgotten all the gory details that her friends had told her.

Before she could open her mouth to scream, the dog attacked her hand with its sharp teeth. The girl stared at the bleeding stumps of where her fingers had once been.

At first, she was too shocked to feel anything. Then pain and blackness took over and she lost consciousness.

The Lady tutted as she proceeded to gather up the freshly bitten off fingers and deposited them into a new ziplock bag. Then she knelt down, took out a white hanky and slowly dabbed at the girl's bleeding hand.

"Goodness me, I am really sorry for my dog's foolish actions," she said gently, talking to the girl as though she was still conscious. "Do forgive him."

Standing up, she casually strolled off with her dog trotting beside her. It was as though nothing had ever happened.

The girl's mother almost had a nervous breakdown when she came back to find her only daughter sprawled in the grass, unconscious with a bloodied hand. The news spread around like wildfire. The Lady in Black had struck again.

Soon, parents did not allow their children to play by themselves in the park while many others simply stopped going to the park.

The place grew deserted and to find a child playing alone in the park was exceedingly rare.

For those that did always ended up with a mutilated hand and a lasting memory of the Lady in Black ..."

My brother finished the gory tale with a sinister smile. Though I thought he could do with some improvement on his villainous smirk, I couldn't help but shiver inside. I was already having goosebumps, yet this only made me more keen about going to the park.

"And that is precisely why we should go to the park, my dear brother!" I announced excitedly.

He blinked one or two times, momentarily taken aback by my statement.

"But ... but the Lady In Black will get you," my brother protested weakly.

"Nonsense! That is why we need to prove that she never existed! Then people will come back to the park again," I said cheerfully.

"I'm still not going, no matter what you say," my brother said stubbornly.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Fine! I'll go by myself then," I retorted and ran out of the house before he could say another word.

It was indeed a beautiful day to be outside. The sun was shining and the sky was the clearest shade of blue possible. I sighed happily as I skipped along in the direction of the park.

Humming a little tune to myself, I decided to touch every single daisy I saw. It was my favourite flower.

For good luck, I whispered, as I brushed my finger against the velvet smooth, white petals.

In this way, I reached the gates of the park sooner than I'd expected. As it was a weekday, there were less people in the park and most of them were adults.

A few of them looked at me in surprise for it was probably strange to see a young girl go to the park by herself. Yet when I smiled to reassure them that I was fine with being alone, they quickly looked away.

It was as though they'd just witnessed something they did not wish to see.

My bright smile could not help but fade somewhat at the very notion.

After walking around the park for a while, I decided to sit down on the grass and rest for a while. By then, the blue sky had decided to cover itself with ominous rainclouds, but I found myself not caring and laid down on the grass.

As the rain started to fall from the skies above, I closed my eyes and stuck out my tongue to taste the first drops of water. But then, I sensed a shadow abruptly fall over my face and obstructed the raindrops from falling onto me.

Puzzled, I opened my eyes and saw a pair of brilliant, ice-blue eyes staring down at me. Then my eyes travelled to the outfit she was wearing and the dog that was beside her.

Black trenchcoat, crimson lips, large black hat, porcelain white skin.

My eyes widened as my mouth shaped into a wordless 'O'.

It was The Lady In Black!

"Hello, little one," she said in that musical voice of hers. "For some reason, you seem to recognize me although I do not recognize you. What are you doing out here in the rain all by yourself?"

"I ... I was just ... having some .. having some alone time," I stammered as I slowly sat up. In my mind, I was desperately thinking of how I was going to make a run for it when the Lady abruptly sat down beside me.

She was carrying an umbrella in one gloved hand so at least I was shaded from the rain. Temporarily.

Her dog seemed harmless enough, wagging its tail at me in a friendly manner as it came to sniff me. I screwed my eyes shut tightly and started to tremble.

The Lady laughed.

"Oh dear, I did not know you were afraid of dogs," she said apologetically.

"Y-yes .. I'm v-very afraid of d-dogs," I said, trembling even more as I buried my hands tightly into my coat. I had no intention of losing any fingers today if I could help it.

"Well then, let's get you to a shelter, shall we? After all, it wouldn't do to stay out in the rain without any form of solid shade," the Lady said merrily.

"Oh no ... no ... I'm perfectly fine just sitting where I am right now," I quickly replied in a weak voice.

"My, you're a feisty little thing," the Lady laughed. "And yet you're covering your hands as though you were sitting through the coldest winter! I'm afraid I must insist, little one."

I could detect a thread of steel woven into her light-hearted voice. I did not dare to find out what would happen if I continued to be stubborn.

Thus, I had no choice but to stand up. In the pouring rain, I miserably walked with her underneath her big, black umbrella; her dog trotting just alongside me.

I buried my hands even deeper into the folds of my coat.

In my heart, I was regretting not having written a will sooner, for if the dog mutilated my right hand, I would not be able to write it properly before I died.

And now I can't bequeath my piggy bank to my brother so that he can at least have some money to support himself after I die, I thought to myself sadly.

Life was so full of regrets sometimes.

The Lady did not talk much as we walked to a nearby pavilion. I was already dragging my feet. It did not matter whether I was soaked in the rain or not, for the mood I was in was fit for being soaked during ten thousand rainy days.

As we sat down in the pavilion, I knew that my doomsday had come.

This is it, I thought, trying to be as brave as possible about the whole situation. In just a few moments, I am going to lose all my fingers.

Thrusting my hand out at the Lady, I screwed my eyes shut and said, "I know you want my fingers ... just quickly do it and get over with it!"

There was an overwhelming pause before a voice said, "Little sister?"

I thought I was dreaming when I heard my brother's voice call me tentatively. But it was really him!

I'd never imagined I'd be so happy to see him and his thick black glasses again.

I squealed with joy and bounded over to him, hugging him tightly. He was drenched to the bone. Apparently, he had not thought to bring an umbrella when he ran out of the house to look for me.

"How did you know where to find me?" I demanded, wanting to know.

"Uh, it's a park, little sis," my brother said, rolling his eyes. "Not the world."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry but there seems to be a terrible misunderstanding ..." the Lady began hesitantly. She seemed terribly confused. Was this some kind of ploy to get us to let our guard down?

"Oh, right ... I'm sorry, Miss," my brother said politely. "You see, my sister here has not been in the right frame of mind lately ... oww, don't stamp on my foot ... but I'm sorry if she'd caused any kind of trouble."

"Not at all, she was a pleasure to talk to," the Lady smiled at me graciously. I almost wanted to stick my tongue out at her but managed to resist the temptation.

I smiled back as sweetly as I could, but I did not say a word until we got back home.

"What is going on?" I asked the minute the door was closed. "I'd really like to know, for once."

My brother hesitated before saying, "Actually I made the whole story up."

I threw my hands up in disbelief.

"Of all the ..." I did not know how to continue my sentence.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to go to the park today ... and I based my story on the real Lady ... who in reality, isn't actually a psychopath who collects fingers," my brother said sheepishly.

"Oh. Well, then I suppose the good news is that at least I still have my fingers intact," I said sarcastically.

I stomped over to face the window in a huff, bitter with disappointment and hurt. The raindrops were still falling steadily but it did not shield the familiar figure that I saw standing there on the pavement.

For the second time today, my eyes widened in disbelief.

The Lady in Black. This time, her hat shielded her eyes and she was not carrying an umbrella. Her dog was there too, staring straight at me.

"Another time, little one," I imagined her musical voice talking to me as she mouthed those words. "Another time."

She lightly tapped one slender gloved finger against her crimson lips, which curved ever so slightly, as though this was some kind of private joke that only the two of us knew.

Then she turned away, melting away into the falling sheets of silver rain ...

And She Was Gone (Short Story)

She was so different from the rest of us. Therefore, we did not accept her into our group. It sounded like a reasonable explanation. Like a complicated Math equation, you did not question the logic. You simply accepted the answer.

If there really was an equation for it, it would have looked something like this.

Topic: Lunatic Girl
Equation:
Different from the norm + the rest of us = do not mix well.
Explanation:
Refer to Page 1 on Life’s theory of logic.

"Hey, is she going to come too?" I asked Brenda, sounding decidedly reluctant for her to tag along with us. I certainly did not want an irritating loony following us all around.

"I don’t know," Brenda whispered back. "I’ll ask the others."

But all of them shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads. They had no idea whether she was coming with us or not.

"Hey Tina," one of them called out. "You coming with us?"

"No!" she said, smiling to herself as she doodled something onto that notebook of hers she was always carrying around. Then she looked up and grinned at us, "Why? You mean you guys want me to come along too?"

She said this in a joking manner, but I could see the flicker of hope in her eyes before it faded away.

"Er, no … actually, we’d much rather you didn't," Brenda muttered, narrowing her eyes in disgust. I could literally read the thoughts running through her mind.

How dare she even suggest that we'd want her to come along!

"Oh. Okay then, bye," she said.

In that extra high-pitched, cheery voice of hers that sounded strangely out of place in the gloomy school atmosphere.

She laughed to herself as though this was one big joke. Even her wide grin did not seem to belong here.

But as she turned her back and walked away, it suddenly struck me that she looked very lonely.

Like an odd piece of jigsaw puzzle placed in the wrong box, unable to fit in with the rest of the puzzle.

The florescent lights flickered. I blinked. And she was gone.

Deep down inside, I felt slightly guilty for not wanting her to come along with us to go out for New Year’s countdown. But I kept quiet.

The fireworks were spectacular. Everyone was laughing and wishing each other a Happy New Year when the clock struck midnight. I joined in the general hugging and ushering in of the New Year. Yet somehow, I was beginning to feel uneasy.

Perhaps it was because I’d seen Tina in a different light. Perhaps it was the way she’d walked away from us.

Whatever the case was, I had a premonition that something bad was going to happen and it was proven true on the first day of school.

As I hitched my bag up and walked into the school gates, the first person who rushed up to me was Brenda. I was about to greet her cheerfully, but stopped short when I saw the terrified expression on her face.

"Tina's disappeared," she said, trembling as she grasped my hands tightly.

"Gosh, what happened?" was all I could manage to say. I was in shock.

"She ... she visited me last night," Brenda said, before completely breaking down. I tried comforting her, but my heart was racing with fear. Something really bad must have happened for Brenda to cry like this.

"Okay Bren," I said soothingly. "You must have been very tired. It was probably just a dream or a silhouette."

"No ... no it wasn’t just a dream. She was there," she protested. "I saw her with my own eyes!"

"All right ... so tell me what happened," I said, thinking that it'd be better for her if she got it out of her system.

"She ... she was just sitting there on my chair, singing and laughing to herself. And you know how freaky I find her laughter sometimes," Brenda sobbed. "So I quickly sat up on my bed and demanded to know what she was doing in my room in the middle of the night."

I nodded encouragingly for my best friend was showing signs of inability to continue with her story.

"When Tina heard my voice, she slowly turned around and smiled at me. But she never said a word. She simply sat there and stared at me with those insane eyes of hers. Even without the lights turned on, I could see that she’d totally lost it.

And that’s when I totally lost it. I started screaming and yelling at her to get out. But when my parents came into the room and switched on the lights ... she was gone."

I couldn’t help but shiver at the last statement. She was gone.

The florescent lights flickered. I blinked. And she was gone.

"And now, I read the newspapers in the morning and find out that Tina's disappeared because her parents put her photo up under the Missing People section. She was missing since New Year's Eve. Which means she never went home. Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence? I ... I'm scared ... I'm really scared."

"Look Brenda, you were probably just tired," I said firmly, steering her to a nearby seat. “You just need to relax, okay?"

She nodded silently, her face pale and tear-stained. I had never seen her so scared before. And this made me feel frightened too. For Brenda had always been the brave one. The outspoken one.

If she was scared, then where did that leave me?

I tried my best to be brave, even when I went home late that night. Brenda had refused to go home until I reasoned with her that this would only make Tina happy in achieving her goal.

"But I can always call you if there’s anything wrong, right?" she sniffled.

"Yes, I’ll be there if you need me," I said reassuringly, even though I knew that if Tina wanted to try anything funny, a phone call would be the last thing on Brenda’s mind.

The house was empty and quiet as I pushed the door open. My parents had gone out for a wedding dinner and would not be back until midnight.

Normally I did not mind being alone in the house, but after what Brenda had just told me earlier during school, every single sound seemed to be amplified ten times its normal volume.

I started imagining things and shadows that were not there and my heart gave a start at the slightest bit of noise. Telling myself that I was just too overwrought with nerves, I decided to turn in early. So I bathed, changed and got into bed.

As I switched off the lights, I almost screamed in fright when I saw Tina standing at the foot of my bed, her head bowed and hands clasped together.

I had no idea how she’d manage to get into the house, for I’d locked both the gate and the door. Nonetheless, I forced myself to calm down and looked her in the eye. I tried my best to be brave even though I was literally shaking.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, in the loudest voice that I dared to use.

At first, she did not reply. But she did not laugh or smile to herself either.

"I just wanted to say good-bye," she finally said in a forlorn, little-girl voice.

"Good-bye?" now I was puzzled. What did she mean?

"Good-bye," she repeated the last word softly.

And with a sudden, bright smile, she was gone, leaving behind no trace of her.

Or so, I thought.

I discovered her notebook the next morning, lying innocently at the foot of my bed.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I flipped it open. To my amazement, instead of the mindless doodles and undecipherable nonsense that I’d expected to find, it was filled with sketches of all our faces.

She’d drawn with an unbelievable accuracy and it was obvious that she was a talented artist. But what gripped my heart the most was the heading she had written above all of our faces. Friends.

Up to this very day, no one knows whether Tina killed herself or ran away from home. She’d simply vanished into thin air.

The florescent lights flickered. I blinked. And just like that ...

She was gone.

Dandelion Seeds (Poem)

I wanna blow dandelion seeds
And see them dancing away on the wind
Whisk every seed off,
Close my eyes and make a silent wish

For the world’s cries to stop
Or at least be heard
For the gun-shots and bloodshed to cease
And peace to be restored.

I wanna lie on the soft, green grass
And look up at the sky
With nothing on my mind
Except the clouds passing by

But as I stare at the endless blue
I cannot help but wonder
How we all live under the same sky
When the world is torn asunder.