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Child of God  ~[Lily Soon] ~Belongs to God. ~I don't bite. ~Music is beautiful. Here & There Talk To Me Definition of Love Love is kind It does not envy It does not boast It is not proud It is not rude It is not self-seeking It is not easily angered It keeps no record of wrongs Love does not delight in evil But rejoices with truth It always protects Always trusts Always hope Always perserveres Love never fails) 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 God's Words Pray with Me -Sister's spiritual growth -Auntie Christina Sim's health & healing -Developing countries -Spiritual growth -Knowing what God has in plan for me -Relatives to know about Christ -Gift of Giving -Studies -Health and well-being of family -Discipline and focus in goals -Perserverence in reading the bible daily Bros & Sis<3 Aimst Fellowship Crystal Bian Bian Lily姐 小云姐 Teddy哥哥 Alex^^ Jasper Max Mic Mic Shi Yi Edith Val Yee Loi Larry Joy Kelvin C Kawaii Kevin Evelyn Felicia Jacinta Rome Serenne Lawson Blogs I Read Yuu~Chan Vain Kenny Xiu Wen Fai Fai Stephy Vincent Joey Shaunnie Christine Baby Bear(Li Ann) Papa Bear(Zhang Huai) Amelia^^ Angeline(Dolphin) Clement Yi Cheng Zhi Hui Rachael Kuan Wen Wei Lian Have a Look Cheesie Xia Xue Vivian Su Ann May Zhee Jessica Peggy Yan Wen Dawn Nira Gwendolyn Cai Weii Esther Pei Yeeng Feisty Charmaine Michelle Justice4BengHock YMI Isabella Chukei-Baby Let bygone be bygone. July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 June 2010 July 2010 October 2010 March 2011 |
Wednesday, October 10 ( Future Horror - A Spur of Creativity @ 19:28:00 ) Future Horror - My Nightmare I woke up this morning, With the sunshine boasting itself, Penetrating my plain curtain, Casting a beam of light, On the floor of my dark room. I looked at the clock hung on the wall, 7 a.m in the morning, Dad had just taught me how to read the clock, Just two days ago. I jumped out of bed, Getting all excited, Anticipating a brand new day, Rushing to the bathroom, Banging on the door, Asking Brandon to hurry, So I could washed up, And rushed down the stairs, To give momma a morning kiss, And to have my breakfast, I can smell toast and ham up here. It was a special day, It was a beautiful day-or I so thought, It was show and tell day at the kindergarten, I rubbed my tiny palms in glee, As I thought of my story, That I would tell in class later on, How my classmate will ooh and aah, Over my new toy, A robot that grandpa had bought for me, From the toystore just yesterday evening. I saw momma setting down the scrumptious breakfast, I saw dad reading the papers, Shaking his head as he complaint about something, Must be the stock market, Maybe it was an accident? or a Robbery? I was almost immune to all those news. Every evening at 6pm, We will sit around the television, Watching the news, I was there just to wait for the 6.30 cartoons, But, I did took a glimpse of all the news on TV, There were violence, politics, war and disasters, Momma always sighed in dismay, But I never understand why. As I finished my breakfast with grandpa sitting next to me, And Brandon with earphones jammed in his ears, And his MP3 blasting, Momma with her laundry, And Dad, finishing the last sip of his coffee, I got up and bid everyone goodbye, For one last time. I happily skipped out of the door, Into my waiting schoolbus, Brandon had skipped school again today, Must be his usual 'headache", I could have care less, As I hugged my bag tightly, Feeling the robot, Safely tucked in the there, I could not wait to reach school. I bid Good Morning to Miss Adeline, As I took my usual seat, Right next to Natasha, A naughty and michievous girl, That give all the teachers, Great Headaches. It was time for show and tell, As I had imagined, Everyone crowded around my new toy, I felt so proud and happy, Because It belongs to me. After lunch and nap, It was already 3, It was time to go back home, To tea, And to momma, Who would be watching the talkshow, On the TV. I would take a bath, And wait for dad to come home, So he could bring me to the park, Where I can cycle on my new bike, And maybe-just maybe, Play with my new robot near the sandbox. As the bus pulled up, I gladly step off, Bidding goodbye to all the classmates, And watched the bus slowly diminished, With the loadful of cheers and laughter. I turned towards the frontdoor, Eager to tell momma about my day at school, Tell grandpa, How my classmates love my new toy. But, something seems wrong, The rose bushes that momma planted, Had been stamped on, I could not hear Johnie barking as usual, Everything was so quiet, The neighbours were as usual, not back yet. I approached the frontdoor, To find it ajar, I stealthily took a peek inside, Just to notice great big muddy footprints on the tiles, I opened the door wide, And shouted for momma, But no one answered. So, I bravely take a few steps more, Just a few more, To reach the kitchen, There on the floor, I saw momma, Sprawled on the floor, In a pool of dark blood, And a carving knife stabbed on her chest, Right at her heart, I backed up and gasped in horror, And swallow a wail that were drowned in my throat. I ran away from that scene, Just as any 6-year-old would have done, I ran to my room, Where i would be safe, But NO, I was horrified, To find Brandon, Laying face down, On the parquet floor, With his earphones still in his ears, And the volume blast to the max, Someone had taken him by surprise, For the back his head seemed crushed, I scanned the floor, To find a hammer and a bat, Smothered with blood, Next to him. I was petrified, I expected worse as I backed out of the room, Covering my mouth, Overcoming the wave of nausea, That had washed upon me, My throat felt dried, As I looked into Grandpa's room. I closed my eyes, I dare not see what would be in front of me, I opened my eyes, To my relief, Nobody was there. I rushed to the bathroom, And there was he, On the bathroom floor, It seems that someone, Had sawn off his fingers, With the razor blades, That dad had used to shave every morning. Grandpa was laying there, With his eyes opened, The pupils had rolled to the back of his head it seems, And His mouth gagged open, As I imagined he must had shouted, For that last few moments of his life. But Dad, Dad was not home was he? He was not supposed to be home until 5, What would he say, When he sees this torture chamber? I rushed to the phone downstairs, And punched dad's number on the telephone, I brought the earpiece near to my ears, And the comforting "toot toot" rand at the other end, But Wait. What is that I hear? I heard someone's mobile phone rang, It seems to be coming from outside, Just at the porch, The ringtone seems so familiar, I was sure of it, As sure as the sun rise from the east every morning, It was dad's phone. My heart was thumping so loudly, I was sure any other living soul in the quiet room could hear it, I stepped out of the front door, Silently wishing everything was a nightmare, I dragged my feet reluctantly to the porch, Dad's car was there, Where is Dad? Just then, I saw it, A big man, sitting in dad's car, With a mask on his face, Trying to start the engine. I must have shouted as he turned to look at me. I heart the engine running, And that was when it hit me, hard, When I realised where I was, I was already lying on the lawn, With pain and agony, I saw my backpack just next to me, The car had ran over my body and my bag, I saw one of the robot's arm dropped out of the bag, As I gazed a little more to my left, I saw the car driving away on Street 15, Where I had played all my life, I turned my head right and i saw dad, He was on his back, His legs were bent at a weird angle, His face recorded fear and excrutiating pain, And then i scream again, His severed hand was just next to the axe, I could feel myself passing out, As a result of the car ramming into me, I was losing consioucness, I knew it would be the end soon, A simple but violent robbery, How cruel of the robber, To kill my whole family. I was sure we would make headlines tomorrow morning, But will it be just like any other violent events, The ones that were reported in CNN at 6pm, The ones that I was so immune to, It was just another violent event isn't it? The robbery and murder, That snatches the life of our whole family, In the most gruesome way. Along with my bliss and happiness, And innocence and life as 6-year-old. I sat up in bed, With heavy perspiration on my brow, I shouted for Dad, He came in the door, I was relief to see him, It was all only a nightmare, With dad, Everything will be fine. But it was exceptionally quiet, I could not hear momma in the kitchen, With the usual clanking of pots and pans, Something was not right, And then I saw it, Dad was holding a chopper in his right hand, I looked at him with pleading eyes, Before he brought the blade down, Again and again, I saw blood spurting everywhere, On my plain curtain, And my bed linen, The ones with flowers, That mom bought for me last week. I felt warm blood, I fell down, I saw dad, He chopped off his own hand, And brought down the chopper into his own chest, So, my dream had been quite real, Only that, the murderer, Had been Dad. -just something that popped into my mind, more of a spur of creativity, not impressive but something I would like to record down. It was suppose to be war but as I typed it started to end this way. Oh well, don't squeal at me for it is too squeamish or violent. It is just a writing. Tata~ 0 comments |
