Mindsets.

Perhaps many might have noticed him, but I’m confident most have not. He has camouflaged his hiding place well; even though it was so near a place where joggers frequent, he was all but invisible to them.

Four years ago, he was a successful businessman at the peak of his career. Then the financial crisis. Then the fall from grace to a pauper. Incompetent management of his finances brought him here, he says. Things he 
had once taken for granted now he pray to be given.

I wouldn’t have found him had I not gone for a nighttime stroll by the lake. Two burly guy decided to mug me since I looked vulnerable. Indeed, I had to fight tooth and nail to get out of the mess, and yet that wasn’t enough. Until he came to my rescue.

Mr. Alan, his name was. A shame to his ancestors, he says, not revealing his family name.

Paradoxical, it was. To live in an elite residential compound with a poor, homeless man a mere 100 metres away.

I looked at my diary and found this entry:
It was a night when the full moon was beginning to take shape. The birthday of an up-and-rising doctor; how fitting. All friends from each part of the country converged to celebrate the day of his birth.

Excellently done so. Pails were filled with eggs and detergent and all kinds of syrup. Just the kind of stuff you’d pick up in the mart and wouldn’t even bother about the price, you see. Definitely fun pouring it on a person.

Night came. The moon rose to its highest. The bash began. In a residential compound populated by hundreds, twenty gathered and made a din equivalent to a rock concert (emphasis put on din).

Residents woke and were expected to join in the fun, but then why such serious scowls and restless shouting? They should join us in the celebration! Come on, the one and only! He’s here to save, and affect, thousands of lives! All hail him!!!

Nah bother them. We are the kings of the world. Twenty and still counting. Oldie mindset, shoo!

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Smear the contents of the pail everywhere! Give the cars an extra coat of protein! The ants shall have a party as well! Honey!! Syrup!! Syrup!! Syrup!!!!!

Immature kids, says Mr. Alan. Rather be a maverick and not conform to the general society if you feel it’s wrong. What happened to the calibration of the moral compass by parents? There seemed to be no place for the future in the past.

All in the name of fun?

Take the money spent into this wastage of materials and send it to Africa. A family would have gotten a meal for a day. Take the time spent into this madness and call your parents. How long has it been since you last heard your mother’s voice?

Mr. Alan and I became good friends, and would occasionally gaze at the moonlit lake whilst having supper together. So many things Malaysians can do, but they choose to take the road much travelled.

Malaysians are rich, yet they don’t realize it.

Does our future still hold hope?

Angel On Bus

It is easier to go downtown nowadays as compared to the past.

Definitely. DUH.

With the completion of the Taman Perling – Danga Bay stretch of road, the journey downtown would be less time-wasting. At least the compelling, offensive traffic congestion at Jalan Skudai would be avoided.

However, many could not deny the charm of the good ol’ public transport system of public bus.

Even though the prospect of speeding down the road with an exhilarating speed would have made Alvin Peh salivate, he nevertheless appreciates a journey downtown on a bus once in a while. You might not understand the lure of taking a public bus but, Alvin is certainly fascinated by it.

Imagine sitting in a metal box with strangers all around you. You either stare out of the window hoping to see something special, or you chat with the person next to you.

Alvin does both.

Thus far, he has seen the beauty and ugly of Malaysians while on the bus. Road bullies, inconsiderate drivers and Rempit individuals make up the ugly side of the citizens, while touching tales of schoolchildren helping a blind man cross the road was something that has made Alvin see hope in the future for Malaysia.

At least the Moral Studies classes in school were a success after forcing students to remember the countless moral values.

Besides that, Alvin chats all the time to kill boredom. Other than chatting to the mak ciks asking them about their day, he too spends time talking to teenagers his age talking about random issues such as the Malaysian football team, government policies and almost everything that happened around the world.

These chatting sessions actually helped build Alvin’s communications skills, thus forming the present Dr. Alvin who was always praised for his ability to communicate efficiently with his patients.

However, whenever he’s having a holiday at his hometown of Johor Bahru, he would always find time to go downtown for a cup of tea with his classmates of yore.

Today was one of those days.

Alvin’s mother fetched him to the nearest bus stop (awww just like the good old days) and in his hand he held the already prepared fare of exactly RM2.50 in coins.

It was quite a joy standing at the bus stop reminiscing about the past. About the time a bird excreted on Ivan’s bag; about the time the old gang had ice creams as they waited for the bus.

Now you understand the lure public bus taking held over Alvin. There were memories he and his friends would remember till the end of time in it.

An elderly man was waiting for the bus as well and Alvin wasted no time in engaging him in a talk. The weather, the new developments in Johor Bahru, the Raya holidays. It was a pleasant chat.

The bus arrived in no time at all. Once on the bus, Alvin selected a window seat and proceeded to look out of the window. He had left his home so long; he almost couldn’t recognize the place the bus was passing through!

The bus filled up gradually as it drove along its usual route. People were going downtown to celebrate the upcoming Raya holidays. There was quite a joyous atmosphere on the bus, with the radio playing lighthearted Raya songs and people chatting happily.

As the bus stopped by a shopping mall, an old lady climbed up the stairs, her hands laden with heavy plastic bags. Being impregnated with the thirty six Moral values since his primary school days, Alvin leapt out immediately and flashed a friendly smile towards the old lady.

He beckoned at her cheerily but realized she was having difficulties moving her groceries. So, he walked towards her to help.

He had barely taken a step towards her when a man, in his mid-twenties, took his seat.

So furious he was, he wanted to roar and fight with that insolent man. 
So incensed he was, he wanted to confront that atrocious man.
So enraged he was, he wanted to let the monster inside him run amuck on that impertinent beast of a man.

A woman sitting next to him grabbed his hand and flashed a warning look at him. She jumped up from her seat and called out to the old woman, ‘Auntie, have my seat please!’

What a heartwarming scene.

If only all Malaysians would ditch the Third World mindset for the more prudent First World attitude.

The old lady smiled gratefully at her and took up the offer.

At that instantaneous moment, a dazzling light illuminated the woman who gave up her seat to the old lady.

She is one of the most beautiful women Alvin has ever seen and, it wasn’t from the physical aspect.

It was her heart. Her heart of exquisite gold. One so rare that many people fail even to see one in their entire lifetime.

Alvin left the bus before he reached his station. The invaluable kindness shown by the woman was so beautiful he was sure she was an angel.

This is why Alvin likes to take the public bus, even though it is a hassle. On one trip he managed to be awestruck by the beauty, and stunned by the ugly of Malaysians. However, when there is a sparkle of light in darkness, hope will always be present.

The inconsiderate man will reap what he had sowed; and the thoughtful woman has definitely planted the seed of kindness in the hearts of the other passengers.

All is not lost yet.

The Unheard Whisper

The empty road stretched on forever in front of me. Alone on it, I felt good. No obstacles, no hindrances – a perfect antidote to the poison building up in me. I had to vent it all out; I had to release myself from the prison of guilt I felt.

I like the feeling of my foot on the accelerator. Hard and firm; the corners of my mouth twitched upwards as the needle on the speedometer zoomed towards 200kmph.

My mind, however, was still in a mess. Contrition was never absent in my everyday life. Regret washed over me. Ashamed of myself, I was.

I should not have gotten myself into this mess; never should I have hitched her along in my trip on the highway to hell.

I was driving all around with no specific destination in mind. The images in my mind showed only of the girl whose life I had destructed in a moment of folly. The high speed escapade was soothing; unfortunately, it wasn’t enough for me to get further than the range of my conscience’s nagging.

Funnily I had the sudden urge to revisit the place it all happened the very first time. The very first time I saw the symmetry of the universe. I never knew if the universe revolved around the earth or around the sun. But finally it’s plain.

It was the girl with a dazzling smile that held me then. She was the center of my universe.

Racing uphill, the avalanche of memories continued its cascade. I shook my head, hard, and asked myself that simple question, do I love her?’ Indeed, we were happy together. We could make the sun shine and the rain fall.

I would want to spend the rest of my life with her.

It has been a mere three months since I last saw her; Ireland has definitely separated us. Though did I even take a look of lust at any other? Nope, never came across my mind. I missed her dearly.

Slowly, I parked at the tip where the whole of Kuala Lumpur was at the tip of my feet. This was my comfort zone, where she and I once called home. I stepped down from the car with reasonable deliberation, unsure of what I was going to see.

Had the commencement of the developing projects made this place unrecognizable? No, it stayed the same, as if waiting for my return. Even the girl sitting on the bench looked familiar.

Hold on, that was the shirt she loved the most. The Liverpool jersey with my name etched on it was a part of our first month anniversary as a couple. I looked down and realized I was wearing the jersey with her name on it.

My eyes widened in shock and my heart skipped a beat. Could it be? I have been looking for her since my return, and here she was, right in front of me.

I walked towards her, moving each leg with considerable difficulty. It took every single ounce of concentration for me not to fall to the temptation of running forward and hug her; for the fear of mistaking a look-alike girl for her.

A few feet away from her, I was absolutely sure. My dear XXXX. Her left hand reached for the right arm, just like every other time when she couldn’t believe what she saw.

Her eyes, the soft chocolate brown, never for once even left mine. Hungrily, they bore into mine without blinking, just like every other time. My breath staggered; they reminded me of every touch, every kiss.

My lungs felt like they were going to burst. I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her about everything I missed about her but, sanity left me before I could do anything else. My lips parted, but it wasn’t a crooning that left them.

‘What are you doing here?’ I whispered.

She froze. Her expression hardened. For so long I had been dreaming, missing, thinking of this sweet face, but now etched onto her features was pure hatred.

So little time had passed but so much had changed. This time, her favourite perfume and this intense gaze made me tremble. Before I could unlock my petrified muscles to hug her, to bring her closer to me, she answered indifferently, ‘making a decision.’

I bit my lip in confusion. I had never understood the complex mystery of a woman’s brain. What could it be that was bothering her? Was I still in her heart, the way she never left mine? I could not decide; I could never know.

Our gazes were locked firmly together. A deep breath I took and I left my mind to the control of insanity. I had long given parts of myself up to commands of insanity, yet it was now that I finally saw fit to embrace its might.

‘Let me decide for you.’

I took hold of the railings and put my hand on your back. ‘I love you,’ said I.

As the good old times stirred at the back of my mind, I was glad finally we would be doing something together. A final push, that was it, and you fell off the cliff with the grace of a ballerina.

Right before my eyes, you fell off the cliff and my hands were the cause of it. I did not cry, I did not howl. Finally fate brought us together again, and this is the only way to make sure we take the next step together.

‘Babe, I’m coming with you. You wouldn’t be alone any longer.’

As my last words left my lips, I took two quick steps backward, and launched myself forward, hard. My eyes were closed tight and the wind stung my face viciously. My heart beat loyally as it galloped towards the last beat; determining to fulfill a lifetime’s beat before the end.

I felt not fear, but joy.

“THUMP”

That was the last thing I heard.

This story is produced through a collaboration with a friend. Written from the boy's perspective, maybe it would be inadequate to fully understand how complicated their relationship was. To know more about their sad story, please click here <---

The Mortar Board

A cup of freshly brewed home roasted coffee in the middle of a mountain of books emitted fragrance equivalent to that of the kopitiam coffee her dad loves.

The aroma was so tempting that Susan had to put her book down and take a sip. She felt her drowsiness disappear in a fleeting second.

She rubbed her weary eyes and they lingered momentarily at the mirror on the wall. Her reflection scared even herself. Was it possible the woman with bloodshot eyes and a pallid face Susan? Gosh, she looked like a zombie!

She took in a deep breath to pull herself together. It is not the time to lose her focus.

She threw a nervous glance at the round clock on the wall. It was nearly two in the morning. She heaved a sigh and carried on with her revision.

“The next book…one more after this…there’s still time for this…”

These were the words Susan kept repeating to herself as she went through her notes. Her mind, already saturated with information, went into an overdrive, absorbing information like sponge absorbing water.

She had come too far, further than what her critics have thought her possible of. They have been hostile towards the first ever girl taking an engineering course in the university. Told her she would never make it. Picked on her since the first day as she arrived on a wheelchair.

Ahh, her legs, a casualty of the fatal accident that occurred years and years ago.

It was a perfectly normal day for any family.

Tuan Sheng had taken a day off from work to spend time with his family. Being a people’s leader in the state of Kelantan, the title ‘Tuan’ did not come easily for Sheng. However, he had been doing well over the past decade, and the fruit of labour ripened fast for him.

A challenging job, a perfect family, and respect from the people were everything he ever wanted. Happiness was a possession for the Sheng family.

Alas, fate intervened. He was driving home from the beach in Bachok when a blue Honda rammed into his car from the passenger’s side. The screams of his wife and daughter made the blood drain from his face.

He was powerless to prevent the car from turning turtle.

The massive jam that resulted from that crash delayed the arrival of the ambulance. Had the traffic been more relenting, Sheng’s wife would not have passed away on the way to the hospital. As she was rushed to the Operating Theater, Susan was in a critical condition, fighting for her life.

Sheng blamed himself for the tragedy. Had he approved the construction of a wider road in that area earlier, his wife would not have died. Had he drove with more vigilance, Susan would not be in mortal peril. Why, of the three of them, did he receive the least injury?

Susan woke up from comatose a few weeks later, by which Sheng had taken to alcohol to ease the pain of losing his wife. And another blow hit the Sheng family.

Susan was paralyzed from waist down.

It was a setback that would deter many from moving on in life, but not Susan. She knew it was her mother’s wishes for her to excel in her studies, and she vowed to fulfill her piety to her mother by doing just that. The positive energy radiating from her managed even to rouse her father from his drunken stupor.

It was a long, long journey before she made it into University Malaya (UM). She had survived jeers from her parents, biased teachers and even the cruel hands of fate far too long to give up now.

No, she will be undertaking her ultimate paper in her fourth and final year and there is no room for quitters. She will soldier on no matter what!

Tuan Sheng, who had requested to be transferred to the Klang Valley upon his daughter’s admission into UM, was sitting at the kitchen table when Susan emerged from her room.

“Are you ready for it?”

Susan nodded confidently.

“That’s my girl.”

A fire rose in her chest. The wrinkles around his eyes showed how much Sheng had aged, and Susan was determined not to let him down.

At nine o’clock sharp, the examiner gave the go-ahead and the scribbling began. Susan’s hand flew across the paper at breakneck speed. Her peers around her looked at her in awe as she filled the blank papers with formulae and calculations.

Finally, exhausted, she put her pen down and closed her eyes.

Susan woke to the sounds of machines beeping. She was in a white room filled with weird devices and tubes. The sense of déjà vu filled her eyes with tears. She adjusted her right hand and it brushed against something soft.

Tuan Sheng woke to a start, and couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw his daughter smiling at him. For two weeks he had slept beside the unconscious body of his daughter and finally she has woken!

The result for the finals was announced a fortnight later. Susan gave the honour of opening the envelope to her father.

With trembling hands he slit the envelope open and gave an enormous gasp.

Susan had obtained first class honours despite fainting in the middle of the last paper!

On the day of her convocation, Tuan Sheng, the proudest man in the universe that day, put on his best suit and went to the ceremony with his daughter at his side. When Susan Sheng was called, the crowd gave her a standing ovation, to the girl who had proven that nothing is impossible.

As she received her honours from the chancellor, Susah held her father’s hand tightly and touched her mortar board. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Mum, I’ve done it!”

A Matrix Love Story

Two things I hate most in this world. Homework. And boys who compete against me.

Life, was always tough on me. First, I've been sent to this "college" in the rustic town of Kuala Pilah. The homework load was terrible. Then when I thought nothing could go any worse, he was assigned to my class. Now I have lots of homework, and a boy who competes AGAINST me to complete our homework!

Life is extremely kind to me. I hope you heard the sarcasm hidden in the sentence.

This kid, is seriously a pain in the neck. He wouldn't stop talking to me! Not in the talk-about-polite-stuff sense. He just wouldn't shut up about Arsenal FC and stuff that only people with a Y chromosome would like. Don't get too impressed. I only remembered the Arsenal thing because he wouldn't stop showing off his jersey.

Like I would be interested anyway. I AM A GIRL, DUH!

My friends keep telling me he likes me. OH MY GOD that had better not be true because you know what? I never felt anything towards him. Just two ordinary classmates, that's all. End of story.

Still, I've been feeling quite well the past week. It was the Chinese New Year holidays! Five days of glee in the shopping heaven of Kuala Lumpur. Yes. Yes. Yes yes YES!! Most importantly, I wouldn't have to see his face for five whole days.

Now that's music, to my ears. *Winks*

Usually he would pester me with his incessant text messages but I wasn't that bothered with the absence of his messages this holidays. Probably fooling around with some other girls.

But time flies. I'm now back in the college, heading to class on this devastatingly cold Monday morning. See, even Life is making it extra tough for me.

I walked into the class, late as usual. Weird, he's not here. It doesn't matter; it's better for me. :)

Suddenly, there was a frantic knock on the door, and he rushed in.

"Sorry I'm late sir."

Gosh. My personal nightmare returns. I stole a glance at him; he was looking at me intently, the cheeky smile back on his face.

The rest of the day passed by as usual. I left the classroom first, and he caught up with me. We walked all the way to our classes, went to look for the teachers and even ate together. Along the way, he couldn't seem to stop talking.

It's like being tortured in Hell. Everyday for the next eight weeks. Thank God it's not for eternity.

We were walking to our Chemistry lecture when it happened. Being extremely late for the class, I finally opted for a shortcut that required me to run across the field. I was halfway across the field when I realised he wasn't with me.

"Alvin?"

"Hey slowcoach Caroline, what's taking you so long?" He was standing in front of the lecture hall.

I was stunned. There was no way he could get there so fast. I mean, I was the one taking the shortcut and, he was still next to me twenty seconds ago. I wasn't possible; I didn't see him running or...even fly.

I frowned, but threw it to the back of my mind. He was fond of coming up with new tricks to surprise me. Bother him.

That was the start of many events.

You see, Alvin is an extreme-outdoor person. He loves soccer more than his life (I mean, he did get so many injuries and accidents while playing the sport that I flinched every time I imagined him playing) and he's the most auntie-like boy I've ever seen - once a rumour reaches his ears, you would bet it'll reach the ears of everybody in the college.

The thing is, nobody seemed to want to talk to him anymore. I was with him all the time, and nobody even gave him a glance. None of my classmates teased me about him; nor did any of my friends mention him when we were chatting. They acted like he never existed.

And nobody seemed to want to talk about him anymore. Whenever I mentioned his name, the topic would change instantly.

He started to shun company; he started to skip meals. The only thing he intensified his effort in was...his care to me.

Every night, he would have his dinner with me in the cafe in front of my dorm. He would always get a carton of milk and watch me eat. Then, as I prepared to leave, he would force me to finish that carton of milk. I pretended to be annoyed by his antics, but truly, I was touched to the core.

His hoodie, always the same one, was always in his bag. Whenever I felt cold Alvin would help me put it on. My friends were like, "It's his hoodie!!" with surprised expressions on their faces but I didn't care. Alvin...was starting to melt my heart.

As we all know, time flies. Soon, February was ending. We both received our results for our middle-of-semester-test. I got a pointer of 4.00 and he was a little behind with 3.87. It wasn't too bad, but we were having a study group consisting of the two of us nightly. All the time his gaze would not leave my face, and to tell you the truth, I was totally basking in happiness.

He gave me my first ever Valentine chocolates, and they were the sweetest chocolates I have ever tasted.

As March came creeping along, he was getting more and more protective. We were spending all our time together. Eating, studying, looking for teachers....you name it. Except for the time when I was in my room, we were never separated.

As April approached, he was always with a grimace on his face, which immediately turned into a sparkling smile whenever I look at him. It was all very mysterious, but with the final examinations looming, I didn't care much.

I was very, very, very touched with the attention he gave me, and I myself was basking in happiness each and every time we were together. When two people are in love, even silence is sweet when being together.

I never thought I would fall for him in this hell of a place. But...the attention he gave me, the adoration he has for me, they were...indescribable.

Finally, the day reached. The final paper was taken, and we were now going home. He pulled me to a side, and gave me a letter. His face was shining with tears and, without saying a word, he sprinted off.

I tried to follow but, he seemed to vanish into thin air. I stopped, and opened the letter.

There was a stack of photographs; pictures of us. Ah those happy times, wonderful to reminisce. Behind every picture, there were words of love.

"Caroline, don't forget to take more vegetables k!?"

"Carol dear, next time, please snug closer to me if you're cold..."

I couldn't stop myself from tearing up a little. There was a newspaper cutting at the bottom. I picked it up, and gasped.

Boy Killed On Journey Home.

There was a picture of him lying sprawled lifeless on the tar road, with a wrecked car next to him.

He died on the journey home from the college during the Chinese New Year holidays.

So that's why my friends ignored him. They couldn't see him at all. Only I could.

So that's why my friends refused to talk about him anymore. They were grieving.

So that's why he wouldn't walk under the sun anymore. He couldn't.

"Carol, I know you would be crying when you read this. I'm sorry I can't wipe your tears from you this time. Happiness doesn’t come easily for those who seek it; as it possesses wings and tends to fly out of our reach.

I rue the day I met with the accident, as it cost me the chance to walk down the aisle with you. I regret not listening to your advice, for if I did not speed, I wouldn’t have met with the mishap. Now I couldn’t be with you for the rest of your life, and it was all because of a moment of folly.

The play has yet to reach its end, but the lights have dimmed on our story.

Rub your tears off, dear! Be strong. Take care of yourself properly in honour of my memory. Don’t forget the milk; and get an optimistic outlook on life. If you do believe in reincarnation, then I would never want to separate with you just like this.

If there is a next lifetime for us, I hope for me to be your Guardian Angel once again. I want you to know I would be waiting for you for all eternity. Forever and ever.

I just came back to spend the last eight weeks with you. It was seriously the most genuine eight weeks of my life, and I hope it was a part of your best memories too."

All I could do was to hug my knees and sob.

Devil's Playground @ NSMC

Fung Sheng Fatt is nineteen years old. He studies in the “prestigious” Negeri Sembilan Matriculation College for “brainy” students. Pretty impressive, isn’t it? Besides that, he is a member of the student council. Now that’s cool. I mean, twenty nineteen-year-olds being representatives of two thousand teenagers living away from home? Wow.

Now, it so happened that the student council, being aware of the general inability of the students to take care of themselves properly without the chaperoning of their parents, organized a “Love Yourself” programme, designed to give the students awareness on taking care of themselves properly.

The act was pretty commendable huh? Yeah, obviously. However, who was to know that the free dental checkups were part of a drug trial by the government? For those who went for the checkup, a jab (of the H4N3 virus strain that was said to give immunity against the next wave of influenza which would drastically hit South East Asia) was given to them.

Sheng Fatt, being an active member of the student council, was among the first to volunteer himself for the checkup. Positively filled with glee after receiving the jab, he was seen boasting around, describing how stronger he felt after the checkup. The rest of the day passed as usual. Class. Quiz. Homework. You get the idea.

But when the night came, and the moon rose, everything changed. My name is Sean, and I live in the college compound as well. There is a really tough, buff guy called Tilak, and he lives in the room right above mine, We are in the same lecture and we study together in the ironing room of our hostel whenever we are free.

Everything was as usual. Our discussions comprised of a wide range of topics from Biology to automobiles; from the tyrannical school rules to girls. All of a sudden, screams shattered the peaceful serenity.

That was the sign of danger.

I am a boy, and no girls were allowed in the hostel. The only time a boy would scream with such enthusiasm would be when he was caught naked by a woman, unless he woke up and saw a cockroach on the back of his hand.

But it couldn’t be, because the screams came from everywhere! Different directions, different people. There couldn’t be so many cockroaches in a place at a time. Or SNSD (the Korean pop group, anyone?) couldn’t be in our hostel.

“What the?”

“Hey bro, let me go check out what’s happening. You want milo?” Tilak asked.

“Nope, thanks. Just go find out why – “

Just then, there was a crash and someone I didn’t know stumbled into the room.

Hey, hold on, it wasn’t someone I didn’t know. It was Eiswaran, Tilak’s roommate. I couldn’t recognize him at first because….his features were so badly disfigured.

He struggled to keep himself standing. “Run….Tilak…” was all he managed to say before collapsing onto the floor. Being a first aider, I rushed to his side immediately. He wasn’t breathing anymore.

Around us, the commotion was getting louder by the second. Howls, groans, moans and other inhuman screams were deafening from every direction. Without pausing to think, the two of us sprinted to Tilak’s room.

And what we saw made our hearts freeze.

Shawn, Eiswaran’s best friend, had changed completely. Not his size though, he still was expanded horizontally as the day before. The difference was, he was pale white, with blood oozing out of his orifices. In his hand he held Eiswaran’s guinea pig, and as we watched, he stuffed the rodent into his mouth, making an inhuman growl as he did so.

We did the most sensible thing we could think of. We ran.

We rushed to the room of our warden. It was empty. Fearing the worst, we tried to look for his car keys, only to see the warden, half transformed into one of the undead zombies, staggering into the room.

He stumbled towards us, but Tilak, an accomplished archer, took the warden’s set of bow and arrow, and shot him. The arrow flew through his left eye and he collapsed.. One zombie down, two thousand more to go.

“C’mon Sean, get the car!! I’ll cover you!”

I fished the keys out from the back pocket of the warden’s tight jeans. So much for banning the wearing of jeans in the college. Around us, the zombies, it transpired, had the ability to smell humans. They rushed out from the blocks towards us, the fresh meat that had not been devoured.

As we made our way to the car, the zombies started attacking us. Their speed and strength were obviously devastating assets to them. They clawed and roared, trying to get to us, but Tilak’s arrows were equal to their attack. A shot from his bow took out three zombies at once. Awesome.

“Hurry Sean!”

“Hop in!” The engine was started but there was no clear path in front of us. We were COMPLETELY surrounded!

“Sean, step on the accelerator!”

“But…but…they were our friends,” I wailed, suppressing a sob.

“And they want to eat us now!”

A crash brought me to my senses. An arm smashed through the passenger seat window and grabbed Tilak’s bow. I stepped on the accelerator, hard. There was a great ripping sound and the arm was detached from its owner. The zombies in our path were knocked down like pins in a bowling alley.

We sped uphill, all the way to another of the boys’ hostel. As I drove past the building, a body was thrown out of the first floor window. It was Petra, a good friend of mine.

There were no zombies around us so I hit the brakes. Tilakrushed down the car and in no time at all, Petra was in the back seat of the car, moaning for painkillers.

Nothing could be done to save the rest of our friends. It was all about escaping this Devil’s playground or being turned into tasty snacks for our ‘friends’. The zombies were advancing towards us at an alarming rate. It was an alarming sight to behold.

“Sean, we have to get out of here now,” Tilak whispered.

Petra moaned, “the girls’ block. Mickey, Mickey…”

I stepped on the accelerator. It was a tad too late. There was an almighty crash and both Tilak and Petra yelled. I looked into the rearview mirror and saw a zombie standing on the boot of the car.

Lucky I watched Initial D. I turned the steering wheel as hard to my left as possible. The car drifted as if it was a Subaru AE86 and the zombie was thrown off. I sped down the road to the girls’ hostel.

There was a riot at the area. Zombies were tearing the place down, looking for fresh meat. I knew there was no hope left. Mickey couldn’t be saved, nor the rest of our friends whom we have gone through thick and thin with.

And then I heard a scream. Not the inhuman scream the zombies make, but something…hmmm…human. Once again I looked into the rearview mirror, praying I wouldn’t see the sight I saw a while ago, and what I saw surprised me.

Mickey and two of her good friends were climbing out of a drain.

I stopped to let them in.

A girl named Felicia, supporting a bloody cheek, was helped into the back seat by the two girls. The other girl, Sung Cheng, leapt into the passenger’s seat (which was vacant because Tilak was caring for Petra in the back seat).

“Are there anyone else we might be able to save?” I yelled.

The girls were crying uncontrollably. Their inaudible answers were drowned by the inhuman growls from every direction.

“Sean, GO!” Tilak shouted.

I sped away.

You know I managed to drive all the way to safety now you’ve read this story. I expect to be arrested under the Internal Security Act for whistleblowing this national secret but don’t worry, I’ve gone into hiding just like Paul the Octopus. The Malaysian government is in the process of destroying the college and the town of Kuala Pilah, just to remove all traces of this destruction, and of course, those whom we had, once upon a time, addressed as friends. And so, I’m making a correction to the beginning of the story.

Fung Sheng Fatt was nineteen years old. He studied in the Negeri Sembilan Matriculation College and was a member of the student council …until the government’s sinister plan was put down to action.

My Idol

Thousands of years of civilization have witnessed the coming and going of many great names; among them we’ve seen King Solomon, the wisest king of all time, Zinedine Zidane, the outstanding football maestro, and Florence Nightingale, who revolutionized our mindsets on nurses, not to mention the rest who have left their mark on history. Now, everyone should have a person whom they look to when they call for inspiration; one that makes them dream, and consequently reach for their dreams. We call them our idols. Who is yours? Take a guess at mine.

Sit back and relax; enjoy this story.

When I was a child, I was a subject to much prejudice. I was fat. Some people might have been so kind to suggest that I was ‘chubby’ but no, I had to face reality. I was overweight. Obese. My so called friends laughed at me. The kids at the playground teased me and refused to play with me. They pulled my hair. They pinched my cheeks. The ‘Fatty’, they called me, bringing me to the brink of tears each and every time they did this. I was only a ten year-old; what did I do to deserve such treatment from them!?

Every time they pointed at me, pulled my hair, chanting the sobriquet they gave me as well, I would run home straightaway. I would hide in the darkest corner of my house and weep uncontrollably, until her warm and gentle hands wrapped around my shoulders. She would then pull me into a tight hug, stroking my head at the same time and whisper, ‘sweetheart, it’s alright.’

It was just a simple act, yet it was enough to make me stop crying. Yes, my mother has been the pillar of my strength since I was a little girl. She taught me that clothes do not make the man; a person’s appearance does not foreshow his abilities. She taught me to climb up where I fell, and hold my head up high, just to prove the critics wrong.

In the few years that followed, I began to observe mum more. Even though she was often busy with housework, she nevertheless did her utmost best to give us, her family, the best. When I was sick, she was there beside me. When I was hungry, I could always look forward to a hot meal on the table. When I was down, she was there to lend me her shoulder. She was the best mother ever, a devoted wife and a dutiful one.

Alas, this is not Hollywood. This is a small town, where good endings never occur. I took her for granted and abused the care she had for me. I screamed and shrieked and shouted at her, but she never once lost her temper towards me. Instead, she just hugged me tight until my tantrums subsided. I didn’t notice that she was getting more and more fragile. She got weaker and weaker by the day until one day; she collapsed in the living room.

The doctor diagnosed her as a patient of third stage leukemia. I was too young to know what leukemia was, but I could see her getting frailer. And that was a torture I could not describe with words. It was like being crucified on a burning cross; or being hit time and again by a spiked bludgeon. I began to surf the internet, to find ways for her cure as she lay fragile in the hospital.

She passed away on a cold and chilly morning. I was fifteen. Her parting words were, ‘Samantha, I’m sorry mummy couldn’t accompany you anymore. Be a good girl, and listen to daddy. Maybe you weren’t in time to cure mummy, but do amass enough knowledge, and save more people in the future, alright?’

I wiped the tears from my eyes.

In all honesty, despite the legions of great people whose stories inspired millions to bring out the very best in them, she was the one who provided me with the spark that ignited my passion to become a doctor. Being such a dutiful mother to me, her memory was the most vital asset on my obstacle-filled journey to achieve my goal. She was the foundation of my motivation, the source of my power and the fuel of my spirit. In the face of impediments, the memory of her was the only thing with the ability to generate my fortitude when I look directly at the jaws of defeat.

She is the force behind me; my strength. The one who guided me; my mentor – my idol.

No Smoking

I stopped my car in front of Kim’s Florist. How fast does time fly. Felicia likes the bouquets they sell most. She said they were much fresher, and were more elegantly arranged.

I chuckled under my breath.

I knew how she liked her flowers arranged. The colours had to be just nice, not too colourful nor too dull. The flowers have to be of the right size, and there must be at least nine violets. To symbolize September, the month we were both born. So sweet.

I walked into the florist.

Today is her birthday. I remember this day, exactly twelve years ago, when I first met her. We both were taking our driving test. There she was, a sweet and cute girl, sobbing pitifully because she failed her test.

Fast forward seven years, and there she was, being walked down the aisle with her father. All these were memories, distant but clear…

I paid for the bouquet, and turned to leave. Behind me, an old couple was having a heated argument. As I walked past them, I heard what they were saying.

‘George, how many times must I tell you not to smoke!? Can you please not smoke!!?’

I stopped in my tracks. A tsunami of sadness crashed into me…

* * *

Felicia was a sweet girl. She was good-tempered and patient, not to mention being very caring towards her friends and families. However, she whose father had passed away due to lung cancer was extremely stringent when it comes to smoking. Anyone who smoked in front of her would immediately get a severe tongue trashing.

Of course, there was an exception. Me.

She loved me so much that she would let me off the hook when I took one or two puffs. I told her I was trying to kick the habit, yet she didn’t know I was puffing away like nobody’s business at my workplace.

She did attempt to reason me out a few times, but I just laughed her words off.

“Gilbert, can you please not smoke anymore?” she had asked me nicely but…

“Erm Felicia, can you not play the piano?” I replied cheekily.

She grumbled but didn’t say anything more. I knew I would win; she gave in to me too much. Yet I didn’t feel elated at all. Something in her expression bothered me much.

How I was to know that was the last time she would tell me not to smoke….

In the few days that followed, I continued to smoke in the house. The feeling was heavenly. Have you ever filled your house with the sweet scent of burning tobacco before? Well, that was it. Alluring.

I smoked when I read the papers. When I watched football. And even when I ate. Felicia didn’t say anything and I felt guilty. However, I thought she was using the old ‘make-him-feel-guilty’ routine again. So I wasn’t that perturbed by it.

Until she collapsed at the dinner table.

Lung cancer.

Why must every story end in the same way? Why? WHY!?

I could do nothing but to stay by her side for the remaining two months of her life. Seeing her lifeless body in the hospital ward, my heart was crushed. Into thousands, no, millions of pieces. Looking at her suffering I could never forgive myself, just for the fact that I was the one who brought death to her…

She passed away. During her final moments, she did all she could to keep me from being sad. Typical Felicia. Trying to give me the best even though she was suffering. I was in total agony, but I kept the smile plastered to my face. No, I didn’t want her to be sadder.

She told me she didn’t forbid me from smoking anymore. I couldn’t reply her. In spite of everything that made her body fragile and weak, she didn’t care about anything but to make me happy.

I knew it was too late; that nothing I could have done would bring her back again.

* * *

I snapped out from my reverie. Turning to George, I said, ‘for you not to regret; for you not to harm your loved ones, don’t smoke.’

I have never touched a cigarette since the day she collapsed on the dinner table.

Felicia, I love you.