Beast

There's a new hedgehog to my family!! It's a male this time ☺️ 

Welcome, Beast! Your arrival was long awaited. Now Bella has a friend!! And hopefully, I'll have a few hoglets popping out of you 😏

Love, mum

Homeward Bound

"So, do you want to go home for Christmas? I'll book your flight ticket ASAP if you say yes," my mum said at the other line.

"Ahh…I'll think about it." 

"Okay." And the line went dead.

I heaved out a long sigh. 

"Home, huh?"

I mentally counted the last time I saw my mum. The last time I saw my darling dogs. The last time I had a warm shower and slept snuggled in my warm duvet.

It didn't take long for me to made up my mind.

I picked up my phone and activated Siri.

"Call mummy," I commanded.

…

It was time to go home.

Birthday Blues

I realised the older I get, the lesser the significance of my birthday is for me. I no longer look forward to surprise parties or blowing candles or cutting cake or opening presents.

 I guess I just grew out of it. It seemed like any other normal day to me. And this year, I felt no different. I stayed up until past midnight, like the norm, even though I was dead tired from MUET exam and food excursion at Morganfield's with my love. No wishes(Bernard's pre-birthday surprise doesn't count, but I DO APPRECIATE WHAT HE'S DONE!!). Good Lord the wonders that happen when you change your Facebook birthday settings.

In the morning, I was awoken to the sound of my phone ringing. It was my mum. "Happy birthday pumpkin!" she said. A few minutes of conversation and it was over. 

Then came the text from Bernard Thian. A lengthy, heartwarming, and somewhat cheesy birthday message from him. "Cute," I thought.

I spent the day at Midvalley eating at the new miniature cafe…and then at that tasty ramen shop at the food court. Yum! Basically I added hundreds of unnecessary calories to my body that day. Oh well.

As night approaches, came a few more birthday texts from my aunts as well as my best friend, Erisa. My sister was kind enough to buy me a slice of chocolate banana cake from Secret Recipe's. It was my first birthday cake since…form three? God knows.

….

And that's pretty much how it ended. Nothing fancy. Everything was a pretty average. But this year was slightly better than the rest. Perhaps because I finally reach the grand age of eighteen.

Bella

Let me introduce to you my pet hedgehog, Bella! Her favourite activities include sleeping, eating, cuddling, exploring and as shown in this video, playing with her toilet paper roll! Enjoy the cuteness ^_^

The Gentle Melody of A Mother's Broken Heart

He was three months short of his third birthday when the authorities finally legalised all the paperwork required for him to be hers. She recalled the first time she took him home, a newly remodelled shotgun house at the end of the street leading to the cemetery. 

She remembered how challenging it was for her to coax him out of his shell for the first few years. How forlorn she felt whenever he decided to retreat into his own world, shutting everyone out for hours, sometimes for days until end.

When he was eight he finally learned to call him mummy. Oh, how her heart blossomed when she heard the long awaited word came out of his small, chapped lips! She shed a tear or two that day; for it was also the first time she saw him smiled at him.

…

He didn't come home on his fifteenth birthday. She grew anxious as each second pass by. Tick, tick, tick. It was 25 minutes to 2am. Yet she hasn't moved an inch from the dining chair, her index finger gently tugging the string of a party popper.

"Where is he?" she wondered? She had tried calling him numerous times, each time reaching only to the same monotonous voice of the voicemail lady. She closed her eyes and prayed for solace of mind. It didn't help.

She jolted up when she heard someone knocking her front door. She quickly ran to open it, hoping it would be her son.

"Damien-" She stopped. In front of her stood two police officers, drenched from the pouring rain. Her eyes wondered wildly at them. Somehow she was expecting what they were about to say. "It's about your son," they started. She inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the news.

"We're sorry ma'am. Your son is dead." 

…

The funeral ended hours ago but she remained rooted at the foot of his grave. The tears streaming down her face seemed endless. She was inconsolable. Each time she shut her eyes, she relived that fateful night when she had learned of his death. 'Fatal gunshot at the skull' the autopsy report read.


She felt she has failed as a mother. Just like how her mother had failed her. 
She was alone again. The one person who brought light upon her lonely soul has passed. How was she to live?

Never again will she hear her son call out for her. Never again will she able to kiss his scarred cheek each morning before he went to school. Never again will they be able to exchange "I love you" or "Goodnight."

Despite her sadness, she had prayed for his journey to the afterlife. "Rest well, my boy. Someday we'll see each other again." 

On The Notion Of All Things Beautiful

Most often I see beauty in the simplest things; a baby's first laugh, for instance, or when I see an old couple holding hands while walking down the boulevard. Even when I see a young family of four eating their dinner at the local diner. 
There's also beauty when I see a people dance in the rain, not caring the about the cold bullets of water seeping through their clothes.
.
.
.

They're all beautiful.

I see beauty in sadness too.

I think when you're beautiful when you cry. Your salt like tears streaming down your cherub cheeks as you huddle at the corner of your room, trying to block out the pains that the world is causing you.

I think you're beautiful when I see you so focused in what you're doing. Your desolate eyes transfixed on the computer, your long, thin fingers typing away each word by word the sad story of a young murder victim you so carefully narrated in your head.

I think you're beautiful when I see trying your best to hide away the evident pain plastered on your face. You're beautiful when you try to convince the world around you that you are okay, even when your whole world has crumbled down to nothing but debris ready to be washed away by the endless sea.

.
.
.
Learn to believe that you are beautiful. Because you are, no matter what those demons in your head say. You are.

I hope when you can finally see the beauty in you, you will be able to see beauty in other people too.

Late Night Thoughts from Your Ex-Lover

I wonder about you as I lay on my bed that creaks each time I toss and turn to find comfort.

I wonder how you're coping after our goodbyes. 

Do you feel the same tinge of sadness I do?

Do you reminisced our good days and our bad?

Like when you first said "I love you," and "You look beautiful today."

Like when we had our first fight over dinner at my place.

......

When did everything went south for us? 

Was it when I started developing ugly emotions over the new girl at wor? Was it when I realized how different you are when we're together? Or was it when she started to seek for your 'guidance' in everything, even when there were other guys who were lining up begging for her attention?

I think it was everything. And we did nothing to fix it. You and I just went with the act until the final blow.

Good God. The final blow.

It was a ticking time bomb waiting patiently to explode. When it came, it sent you and I hurling through the cold winter air and we landed head first on the snow...at least I did anyway. When I came to my senses, I realized you were gone. 

Strangely enough, I didn't call out for you like how I always would. I laid there staring at the snow as each snowflake landed gently on my face; kissing me ever so gently. It was comforting enough.

Eventually I found the strength to rebound. And never once did I look back since then.

.....

But tonight, as I lay here on my bed listening to the chilly summer rain pouring outside, my thoughts came to you. 

Are you crying over her death? The death of your love and your unborn child?

Are you thinking of following her to the afterlife, like how you said you would when I broke the news to you in the emergency room?

Or are you thinking of me? And our baby boy who will be turning 5 tomorrow, and will never learn who his father is?

Deep in my heart, I hope you'll come back to my arms.

.....

But I know you won't.

And that's okay.