"... And that was the last time I saw her."

  She promised me that she will stay, but she lied. It has been years since I saw her, however, her touch, her scent, her smile and her voice still bare at the back of my mind like it was just yesterday. Every time I thought of her, a disturbing, mortifying scene looms before me. Nothing could change what happened that horrendous night, which caused our separation, preferably a lifetime.

  It was graduation day and I was over the moon. Finally, I fulfilled not just my dream but my parents too by becoming an engineer. Everyone was ecstatic as I was, except Emily. Part of me did not fathom why because she was the one who told me to be happy. She peered unwillingly at me, trying to avoid any eye contact and ignored me. I do not remember when she was ever this down and that literally killed me.

"What's wrong?" I queried with concern. "Nothing." She replied.

  The hall was getting crowded so I told her to continue our conversation at the parking lot right outside. To my flummox, she begun acting like everything was normal again. Even though she gave me her best smile, I knew deep down something wrong is about to happen. And on cue, a black colored van stopped right before us. Four men bolted out of the van and yanked both of us in, with our mouths closed. We were helpless, even our adrenaline did not come in handy.

  I remember waking up beside her,on the cold hard ground. My head was pounding and bruises was all over my arms and shoulder. Emily was still unconscious, so I took the opportunity to look around. We were locked up in a room, an empty dark room. No furniture, fan or light, just a room with two small windows. For the first time of my life, I was petrified. I loosen up my tie, took off my shoes and moments later, she was awake.

"Where are we?" She asked, sleepily.

"I have no idea, but it's someplace far because I can't hear a single vehicle or people."

  And again, that tactful silent. She knows something about this incident but she is not telling me. I tried not to question too much, instead I muffled next to her, trying to comfort her. And we remained the same position for hours, finding a solution for this mess. We have been kidnapped! My heart beats frantically, my hands starts sweating, while a thousand and one question starts appearing and invading my thought. To my horror, the door opened and revealed two tall black figure. They only grabbed me out of the room, leaving Emily alone.

  I was palpitating, in fear and for some reason, nervous when they tied me up to a chair outside the room. There was light and fan here but still, scary. My heart sank when a familiar face stood before me. He smirked down at me while my jaw hung in mid air. I was baffled at what I saw and wish I was dreaming. How can I not see this coming? After being warned a hundred times, I should have seen this coming, I should.

"I told you to stay away, you don't listen, so this happens."

  His words registered in my brains faster than ever and I now understand Emily's silent treatment. She knew something bad was definitely going to take place but not like this. Kidnapping your daughter's lover? This had gone too far. I fought back, telling him I am never going to let go of Emily and what we had. Clearly, he did not like what he heard and immediately slapped me. After that, his men tortured me, badly. But everything was blurry, misty yet painful.

  I was like a living corpse when they tied my hands and chucked me at the back of the van with no compassion. Watching Emily being held back by two men was the worst thing to watch. I felt like saving her but I was already worn out by all the beating. Tears starts to stream down my face and I have never felt this way before in my life. It was just days ago when we were planning a future together and now, I am at the back of a car, to nowhere. She was terrified, remorseful and worried when the car started to accelerate and that was the last time I saw her.

10 years from now?

  A very good question indeed, but where do I start?

  It's the time of my life when questions like this do make a difference. I'm seventeen for god sake! -So old. However, I am excited to enter a rather challenging chapter of life. Besides, I'll be legally eighteen next year... isn't that cool?

  Where were I?

  Ten years from now, I'll surely be someone successful -positive thinking- clearly because I'll work so freaking hard to achieve it. And if I didn't, somehow somewhere something went really really wrong or probably I've gone crazy or in jail. Literally.

  At the age of twenty seven years old, I would already be able to host shows or become a television personality like Giuliana Rancic! Yet, my ultimate dream is to be like Oprah -Big and successful, not to mention she has billions- and have a live television show. Pretty cool isn't it? I mean, I get to talk about anything and everything!

  Furthermore, how can I forget my life long passion. Fashion. Personally, I would rather be a celebrity stylish or any kind of stylish would do. But styling for movies? That seize the deal. Somehow, I prefer becoming a fashion designer. I like to create something better than what people already have, and by designing, not only I can have people where my clothes, I could style them too.


  And yes of course, my writing career. Maybe around fifty books published? Having your name print on the cover is a feeling I can't describe.

  To perfect my dream life, I would own a house. Correction, an apartment. Just a simple apartment. Probably I would be living with my best friends or maybe my sisters, it depends. A nice car -Volkswagen please. Traveled around the world, visited many many places and meet so many people -my idols would be nice.

  I mean, all these are just something I play over and over again in my mind. Whether it comes true or not truly depends on what I'm willing to do to have it work. It seems like nothing much when I typed it out but at the back my head, it's chaos over there! Cause there's just so many things and not everything is fathomable.


  Though I do hope I could life a fairy tale life like I've pictured. Sometimes, we just gotta dream a little bigger.

Promises

  My friends forbid me to drive home because I was clearly drunk. But it was my stubbornness that fail to cooperate. Halfway on the road, my vision started to loss its power. All I could see were blurry roads, lights and sign boards. Without any warning, I lost control of my steering wheel and the car went swerving on its on. Before I could pull the hand break, my car went lurching towards another car ahead of me. I was thrown forward violently, the seat belt biting into my chest and knocking the wind out of me. The sound of raining glass echoed in my ears as an airbag exploded in my face.

  After locating a spare knife near my seat, I poked through the airbag forcing it to burst. I check myself for injuries and my nose were bleeding. Several large bruises were starting to bloom on my hip, arm and thighs. Somehow, I was still dopey. With the help of my strength, I unfasten my seat belt and grabbed the handle. My legs were numb and excruciatingly painful but I had to identify who was in the other car. I stumbled and dragged my feet towards a crumpled, dented black CRV. The bumper and headlight were badly damaged. That stench of regret crawl up my spine, I wonder, "Are they alive?"

  My heart pumped rapidly, my stomach tangled, tears start to stream down my cheek, all I could hear was my heavy breathing and I was devastated with what I had witness. A man in his mid forties with his wife at the passenger seat and a toddler at the backseat. All demise because of my reckless behavior. I heard the police siren from afar, and I collapsed on the floor. With the thought of serving in prison through my college years for killing a family disappointed and weakens me.

  The ticking of the clock was getting on my nerves. Every second, every minute, every hour felt like forever. I was in pain, literally in pain just staring at the blank and dull white painted wall. All I could think of is what is next? There is so many things in my life I left incomplete. For example, making my parents proud. I never did that, and judging by where I am right now, I never will. My fear of loosing their trust again grows bigger, somehow I should have expected this. With my behavior the night of the accident, who in the right mind can ever rely on me? I am a perfect model of a failure. 

  "Kara, come down this instant!" My father summons me. 

  As if the very essence of life itself did not suck at that particular moment, I was not in the mood to bicker with him about my attitude. Before I approached him, I found my mom staring at a painted canvas near the window. "Mom?" She stared at me with a slight anguish of grief. I spent so much of my time outside with my friends and neglected her. I had a feeling akin to regret but it did not prevented me from repeating it. Before she could hardly string a sentence, my mind forced me to move forward, leaving my mother forlorn. It was an apt decision to make, I could care less. 

  "Don't you ever walk on me like this! There is a limit to everything! Kara, listen- " He warned me with a stern voice but I shut the door behind me and left him without completing, as always. I grabbed a cigarette from my jeans pocket and lighted it up. The nicotine coursing through my veins and I was relief. All my problems disappear, no more headache, quarreling at the background, it was the perfect escape. It was December three years ago, when I lost my sister, the only sister I had to cancer. Nothing was the same anymore so do my innocents. Befriends with the wrong group of peers, got addicted to drugs at the age of fifteen. I was heartbroken, naive and was ready to do anything to get rid of my sadness. 

  My mom held my hand during her first visit at the prison, and as expected my dad was nowhere to be found. He must be so disappointed at me. With my sister gone, he wished I could magically take over her position and become the perfect daughter she was. But the truth was, it was not that I do not want to, however it is because I could not. A replica of her would mean she is gone for real. I took out a piece of paper from my breast pocket and unfolded it. My mother's face wrinkled and was curious with what I had planned on confessing. 

  And I started, "Never in a million years I thought, taking someone's life could be an option. Seeing that it happened to me, I am lost for words. The paradise of my childhood loomed before me at times and I saw a free spirited little girl who dream of becoming someone in life. She promised to bring affluent into the family and live in a fairy tale life. Until something made her stop on her tracks. She misread the situation and handled it in a different way. An unhealthy way that drive her family to fury and despair."

  I vividly remember the day when I stood in front of my classroom and made a list of promises. I muscle my way and stole my teacher's attention and manage to earn a spot at the center of the classroom to share. "I promise to keep my family happy in all circumstances. I also promise to love and cherish them while I could. Besides, I promise to study hard and become somebody in life so my parents would be proud of me and I promise to never let anyone down."

  Looking back at those words seem to trickled back and I sounded like a hypocrite. Though this tragedy changed me tremendously and I am remorseful for my wrong doings in life. I made few more promises to my mother as she is now wiping off her tears. "Furthermore, I promise to renew my unsavory character, I promise to be a better daughter, I promise to earn the believe you both had in me, I promise to never look back and walk straight ahead and I promise to be happy, very happy and as the saying goes, the happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything but they just make the most of everything that comes along their way."

  With that, I folded the paper into four and place it under my mother's hand. I told her to convince my father with what I wrote, and that two years from now I would be free. Away from prison, and into the future carrying along the promises I had made. She stood up and gave me a hug, as if she was never going to see me again. Her raisin shape eyes filled with tears and I saw something which I had never seen for many years now, it was faith. She believed in me and she knew my intentions were pure. That I will be a changed young lady, and with that, she flashed her beautiful smile at me.  

  

  

Guilty Pleasure.

Every answer has its question but not every question has its answer. Figuring out a reason why you love something so much that it hurts, seems absurd. You just love it, and that is why it is interesting.  But then again, curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but wonder. To someone’s perspective that could be obsessive or a tad weird but what’s wrong in loving something so dearly that letting it go is impossible.

  Everyone has their little secret that they can’t let go of and mine is fashion. Probably most normal adolescent would to. Fashion is awfully difficult to fathom but that’s the beauty of it. It’s completely mysterious, you just want more. If you understand why there is so much to love about it, the world would slowly revolve around it. Everywhere you go, you see fashion. A fabulous world filled with colours, pattern, people being themselves and comfortable in their own skin. Isn’t the world just beautiful that way? A perfect guilty pleasure.

   To keep us on our toes, we at least need an inspiration. Someone to look up to whenever we lose our touch. My inspiration relies on my sense of style some goes to everyone else. It is like a life long journey in finding who you truly are, instead of changing who you are. Change is good but why waste all that away for something you are not. Yet some people choose trends to define them and what’s not follow?

  People make trends; in fact everyone is their very own trendsetter. The latest trend to make a comeback is the skater skirt which is inspired by the short flirty skirts worn by ice skaters. And of course, how can we forget tribal prints? This Native American inspired print is taking this world by storm. Literally it is in every store I’ve seen here in Malaysia! Like forever 21, Kitschen and etc.

   However, when someone forbids you from loving something you love, you’re crushed. It’s like you lost your very own comfort zone, and into the world of full with mundane and plastic people. Well, at one point loving something so much that it hurts is cumbersome. Especially when you’re separated from it. Each moment you move on without it, is each moment you are closer to heartache. Heart breaking tragedy, indeed.

   For people to call you a fashionista when you are thrown away from it seems pretty absurd. Think of the barriers people go through just to be fashionably happy is pathetic. But remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck. Probably after going through a road packed with disapproval, finance difficulties or even size problem, we could pull through it.

  Getting yelled at because the peplum skirt you’re wearing is too short, slowly glaring through stores window display because you can’t afford a leather jacket or can’t seem to fit into a perfect dress to your prom night. What a nightmarish affair! Worry not, where there’s a way, there’s a will. Be firm when you get yelled at, purchase online goodies for half the price and of course, search clothes with number sizes instead of alphabetically.

   Being different from anyone else will take you far in this fashion industry. It’s a big world filled with people ready to step on each other to the top. That’s life. Set your goal; reach for the stars, stamp your mark on something you’re passionate about and it will take you far. Even if it takes a while, always have this in mind, “Be patient, good things happen to those who wait.” And good things might as well happen to you.

  Having your name on a billboard is such a dream, that I fond of and wish to never wake up. If only dreams like this could come true. And it only will if you truly believe in yourself. The reason why you are still alive is because you are meant to make a difference in this world. Even if it’s a small difference, it’s still a difference that could possibly change one’s life.

  

  

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LOVE

  I stood in front of the class wondering, "where should I sit?" Everyone was staring at me, coldly and then it hits me. I certainly have stepped into a territory that is not meant to mess with. People here are not friendly, and never will. However, I am forced into this and yet to be thankful for getting an education in this elite High school. Moreover, I should have picked a sit by now and I choose to sit beside the underdog of the class. A coy brunette whom resembles myself a lot and vice versa. 

  I vividly remember the day when Miss Betty, our guardian at our orphan, introduced me to my foster parents. They are from a wealthy family but unfortunately were not able to have a child of their own, so they decided to adopt a grown fourteen year old girl for some reason. For the first time in my life, I felt wanted. Two individual struggles to have a child to call them mother and father whereas my parents? They clearly did not wanted that. I guess I was accidental.

  "So, how was first day of school?" queried my mother, Julian. A very beautiful entrepreneur who is at her late forties and she loves me, dearly. Not brushing aside my father, Corey. He is indeed a dashing gentleman at his early fifties with a successful law firm in his hand. Though everything seems perfect with them giving me unconditional love, I still felt empty, in the inside. After being an orphan from the day I was born, I always look at things from a different angle but this was never it. I never knew how it feels like to be living under a roof with someone who I can come home to and just, feel like home. Instead, I am always with twenty others back at the orphanage and like they say, "Everyday is a celebration!" 

  I startled for awhile. Because I did not quite answered her question. "It was alright, I made friends." I meant, I met a girl and she happens to look like me though we barely spoken more than two sentences. "That is great! I know you would fit in right away." My father was convinced by my lie but my mother was not. "You sure?" After all, it is a school, filled with rich brats. "Yup!" I was not sure whether telling her my first day was a wreck a good idea, so I decided to avoid the truth. "Glad to hear that. More soup?" I live in a triple-story bungalow and its interior is designed fit for a rich, upper class socialite unlike Julian and Corey. Somehow I am blown away by their way of life. They are such an amazing people and never take things for granted. From the bottom of my heart, I do feel that they deserve a better child. A child who can forget about the pass and look forward to the future with them because clearly, I am not that child. A part of me wonders, what if I never manage to find my family? 

  It was Christmas when I first realized I had a guardian angel. I use to call her my "God-mother" when I was little but slowly, she fades along the years. Sooner or later, she disappears and after that, Miss Betty was the only one took care of me. But it was my intuition telling me my "God-mother" is there, guiding me and watching me every step I take. Until, I was adopted. It has been more than two years since I have become a "Sebastian" yet finding who my real parents are still my ultimate goal. 

  For awhile now, things between Tasha -the girl who I sat beside with- and I are getting better. She is now my best friend and the only one, of course, plus I do not feel alone anymore here in high school. Next week is my graduation and I am sure looking forward for it. I have a family that takes good care of me, a great friend by my side and graduating from a high school only the luckiest can go to... I am indeed in cloud nine. I adjusted my graduation hat and I went on stage while flashing my set of white teeth at my principal whom promptly handed me my certificate. A slight bow and I run down stage to immediately hug my parents. Out of the blues, a familiar face stood behind us with Tasha by her side. I had butterflies in my stomach and I could not articulate how anxious I became. It was her!

  "Hi Mr and Mrs Sebastian, this is my mother. And mom, this is Jenna's family." Tasha kindly introduced us to her mother. My mother reminded me to introduce myself but I was too shocked until I left my manners behind. I just needed to know, was she the one? "Hello, I'm Jenna." I offered a handshake but instead, "Heck, give me a hug!" And she threw me into her embrace. It felt right. We connected with just that mere second. As always, my guts was right. She is my "God-mother" and I was over the moon to acknowledge the fact. 

  My biological father met an accident just before my mother was in labor. Things went out of hand and my mother did not knew she was having twins. With my father gone and stacking bills to pay off, she had no choice but to scarifies one child. She knew it was the right thing to do and she left me in front of Betty's orphanage several days after I was born. Remember I told you I had someone guiding me all along? It was my mother. She was there when I first started walking. She was there when I turned one years old. She was there when I fall off my pink bicycle which turn out to be a present from her. She was there watching me but never there when I needed her the most. However, I did not hate her for what she have done. In fact, she was left with no choice and yet she have never forgotten her duty as a mother, as my mother.

  Everything happens for a reason and I will hold on to that. I wish I could have met my father. I also wish he is still alive and none of this would have happen but then again, I am who I am today is because of my past. If everyone had given me so much love since the beginning of my life I never would have appreciate love as much as I appreciates it now. The importance of love in life is undeniable, it almost seems like a cliche. But the fact is, we all know what love is and I love my family.

  My best friend who turns out to be my not identical twin. In addition, I am also thankful to my foster parents. They gave me a taste of how real family felt like and I am also glad they finally found a way to obtain an offspring of their own. I spent my adolescent phase of my life with my family and that is more than enough for me. Now, my mother supports me every single decision I make and not from a distance yet, by my side. Digging deep into my story I realize, everything around me revolve around love. The definition of love, I believe, will always remain elusive and unclear to us all and we have yet to come to a conclusion about this familiar feeling.

Hope.

  The agony and bewilderment with which I awoke after a tossing half sleep. It was a tad cumbersome to fall asleep last night after a nightmarish affair, I was devastated. My initial reaction to my problem was to cry, but I guess it did not come in handy. It has been a while since I felt this way, I suddenly became indecisive of my choice and regretted every decision I made. Almost felt like I have disappointed everyone, including myself.

  "What's your dream?" I baffled whenever I've been queried the same question. My answer was still in the middle of an oscillation that had many pro's and con's, I was torn apart. I have big dreams, massive to be precise! However, I have to muscle my way through various obligations to achieve it. It's tough in my perspective especially when you don't want to let your parents down and of course, yourself.

  Ever tried so hard that in the end, it just didn't work out? Everything shattered into pieces. All your hard work is in vain. Yet, you thought to yourself, "I should have tried harder." but it trickled back. I mean how many times will take to get it right? The harder you try, the worst it gets. Then I learn to never force something that is not meant to be. For example, setting a target you'll never reach.

  Giving up hope is the easiest thing to do but the aftermath of it is definitely hard to cope. It is with that kind of fear that I begin loosing the optimistic side of me. I have, as it were, a strong determination that is about to disappear. A few impression stand out vividly from the times I merely gave up and of course the lessons I have learnt from it. I wish I could have forgotten it but it came haunting me whenever I tried. I demurred I would ever brush aside away.

  Driven by demons, I could drive those around me to fury and despair. I let everyone down, especially the ones who had hope and faith in me that I would somehow make it in this fast pacing world. At first it didn't hurt as much but at one point, I felt I was never a part of anything successful.

  There was this once when my sister aced her examination with flying colors, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. She made my parents so proud and happy, yet what I did? I flunked. They expected so much from me and when I didn't achieve it, they were disappointed. Truly. They remain a tactful silent but I know I  didn't do great. Whenever we unexpectedly came to that topic, I would casually stray away from it. It was too upsetting to even articulate.

  But the paradise of my childhood suddenly loomed before me. How happy I was doing what I love, tried so hard to ace my Chinese exam, win almost every basketball game and most of all... I never gave up in everything I do. That made me stop in my tracks. Even though it was years ago, but I'm known for being positive at any circumstance and so far it made who I am today. I had a feeling akin to regret. But I cannot remember any instance in which this feeling prevented me from repeating it.

  I hope one day the beam of my charm would suddenly refocus on me after I succeeded. I hope I could pant a genuine smile on my parents visage and be proud of me. I hope I'll never give up in chasing my dreams no matter the circumstance. Even if I fail, I hope I would regain my confidence and turn silicon into gold someday.

Back in the game.

  I was at the age of 10 when my coach carefully selected me to join the school team, which is, kinda weird. I don't seem to fathom the possibilities of me becoming a basketball player. Clearly, because, I'm not as tall as the others. But judging by the fact that I've been chosen, actually made me happy.

  I'm into basketball as how other 10 year old would too. It's fun! However, trying to  represent the school for tournaments are not that fun when you have tough rivals by your side. Heck, my mother and father is having the fun because it seems I'm the first child whom is interested in sports.

  Fast forward, 2 years later... I made it from representing my school "Mun choong" to my state "Kuala Lumpur". Representing your state is totally different feeling compared to school. The importance and priority became solid and we are ought to follow it. It's hard to make it that far and I'm stunned that I'm able to reach it, it's no easy game, it's all pure determination.

My secondary school team, 2013. It's been almost 7 years now since I joined basketball :)

  Moving on, netball. I'm no expert in netball but I made it to school team! The thing is, I joined netball because my best friend forced me into and it seemed kinda fun. How I started? When I was 16 years old, which is last year 2012, with no knowledge whatsoever in netball, I proudly "interrupted" a training session with my best friend. Topic closed.

  Just kidding. She actually dragged me into training with her team and told me join their team for a tournament held by 'Sikh society' every year. So, why not right? Interest started to develop on its own and I'm loving it. Till now, I'm so pumped to even join the school team.

My school team, 2013. It's my very first and last year.

  And last but not least, futsal? It's something like football, but smaller field, heavier ball and less tiring for sure. When they said, "Wanna join futsal?" the first thing came on my mind was, "Why not?"

  We played for a tournament held by a sikh society as well, so it was all kind of a sudden play but we really enjoyed it. Only one training, we managed to win one game and draw one game. Pretty impressive I must say.

  Hope there's more next year, and I can't wait.

My futsal team :)

My yellow book.

  Her way of life made me wonder, "Why didn't I think of that before?". She makes clutter seem tidy, dust seem cleanly and hard seem easy. Despite everything she have been through in life, yet her charming smile never fail to help others. Well, what does not kill you makes you stronger, right? She is my solid support system I thank God for everyday. I have, as it were, the greatest sister on this planet.

  They call us twins, but we are not. Her four square glasses above her raisin eyes tore our resemblance apart, and her height made it seem like I am the elder sister. But I did not mind at all, it was fun being the taller one. Much to my believe, her habit of eating basically anything at all made her cheek chubbier and her body, curvier. Certainly she does not plan to hit the gym anytime soon because according to her, it will never work out.

  What makes her my inspiration? I remember she told me once, "Every answer has its question but not every question has its answer." But to this, it is a whole different story. It is merely impossible to put it in words better yet sentence. What she goes through in life is way complicated because sometimes, things are harder than you thought, deeper than it seem and larger than it is. Till today, not a single regret was felt and all she does is thank God for the life she have given. What is the point of crying over spilled milk when you have better things ahead of you?

  She was over the moon when I step into this world seventeen years ago. She knew exactly what her duty was and since then, she took care of me whenever I am sick. Goes through lengths to protect me from getting yelled at by my parents. Compose a tactful silence if ever I got caught. Manage to teach me additional maths although she have forgotten half of it. And, last but not least, advising me and guiding me.

  It have become a challenge when I grew slightly older and matured. All the playing games or stealing each others toy begin to fade away and now all that is left, is guiding me towards making decisions in life. Never knew that one day I would lay beside her in her room and slowly queried, "What should I do?" and as always, she would advice me. However, there is times where my stubbornness creep in and refuse to cooperate and, as expected, I would regret not listening to what she have to say. It have always been this way since there is things I feel uncomfortable to dwell on it with my parents.

  A few impression stand out vividly from the first time I felt moved by her. My father summons me to the room and told me everything what my sister have said. Becoming a doctor or a lawyer have always been my father's choice, and still is, until my sister successfully changed him from hindering my success, in something I love about. "She is more of a creative person instead of 'by the book', let her be what she wants and trust me, she will succeed in life." That brought tears to my eye. In order, therefore, not to be emotional I remain nonchalant and still in disbelief that my sister, the one who tease me, slaps me occasionally, refuse to talk to me for days and fights with me would be the one to turn my dreams into reality.

  Being two years elder than me never distance our relationship, instead it brought us closer. Never mind her hectic schedule, she will always be there for me whenever I needed her. At first, I thought writing about her was going to be a difficult task but somehow, it felt right. She knows me better than I know myself, my strength and weaknesses, laugh at TV shows together, share the same dream, dance to the same song and even love the same band. She is not just my sister, she is my best friend and I love her to death.

Pain Killer.

 

  The ultimate reason why we often find "Partying" a getaway because, simply, life is a mess. There is times where we need to unleash yourself and have fun. Which, in my book, never existed. Thanks to my not-so-brave instinct, I can't do it.

  That temptation to have a sip of vodka, party away, dance till we past out or even just one shot of tequila is stronger than an attracted magnet. Just something to get this "clutter" in my life forgotten, even for just one night.

  Everything does happen for a reason and in this case, it's nothing unusual. I don't see a better solution than this... I might sound cliche but the truth is, I can't take it anymore.

 

From Drab to Fab.

  Maybe not exactly Fabulous but I'm working on it. Before 2012 came uninvited, I was locked up in Fashion crime because whatever I feel like is gorgeous actually isn't. Most of my clothes in my closet are actually tacky and low looking but yet, people find it rather interesting. Some of them of course. Besides, I prefer wearing something more comfortable than risky. I was afraid people might judge me, so why not blend in.

  But no more. What's the point of being safe anymore? If I want to stand out, I have to create a stand out piece. That proud moment you'll have when your outfit turns heard, not a bad way of course -If so, I might be wearing shorts with tight, so 2009- I mean in a more Fashionable way.

Siti and I. Both wearing mullet skirt and I totally love it ! Mullet skirt is in trend now. 

-On her Birthday celebration,2012-

  Mullet skirt is a rather tricky one. If you paired it with a wrong top, you'll look more of a 'trying to be fab' instead of actually are one. Yet, it's risky and fun... that is what it's all about.

A silent applause from me to you.

  It goes on every child's mind, "What can I do to make my parents proud?" and I'm no exception. Seeing them flash a benevolent smile at something you've done right, gives you utter motivation to continue and of course, satisfaction.

  But what if we fail at it? What if our parents looses hope in you and leave the situation as it is? As a failure, will we stand back up? The answer is, we must.

  I've been in a situation where I felt I wasn't apart of anything successful. Neither I was the brightess student in school nor in class but the one thing I manage to have my father pad me on the shoulder, was my achievement in basketball.

  Was it enough to make them proud? I'm guessing no. It's been a while after I sat for my examination -PMR- and I didn't achieve as expected. I remember shedding tears every night, every time I shower and sometimes, I felt I let everyone down, especially my parents.

  I knew deep down they were proud of me but I also knew they wished I could have done better. That fact literally kill me, but it didn't let me down hard. I stood back up on my feet and in my perspective, I did.

  I have many other responsibilities but making my parents proud is one I ought to succeed in. My goals in life might not please my father or mother but I assure to do my best in it and be the best I can be.

See beneath it all.

  Writing about life is tough, there's just so many to point out. Yet, all those meaningful quotes came from a story, someone's story and they began painting the journey of life..

  I couldn't articulate how it feels like to be in my shoes. It's neither a great thing nor a bad thing, it's just how it is. The idea of describing and putting into words felt like a challenge, better yet explain it. In order, therefore, not to be tedious I shall be honest. The issue here is, where to begin?

  Since I'm a student, it's easier to start of with that. Have you ever cried so hard in the middle of the night after reminiscing, a painful truth, that you fail to make your parents proud? I do. That feeling of fear that you'll repeat your horrible mistake again, that excruciating pain down your throat, stomach tangled and the only thing to make you feel better is to scream, literally killed me after my dad gave up hopes on me.

  According to my sister, I'm the most determine of all, yet, my effort is never promising. What should I do? Answer is, self motivation. Despite all the shit I've gone through to make my parents proud, I haven't seen a single genuine smile on their visage, it hurts, truly. Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, am I right? At first, I took it the hard way and gave up. What I fail to realize is that it doesn't get better, it only aggravates. Somehow, I manage to rebuild my confidence in succeeding in my life, especially reaching for my giant size goals and most vital, planting a genuine grin on my parents face.

  Moving on, family struggles. Blood is thicker than water, and I believe that saying is true. I don't fathom those who runaway from home because of misunderstood. I've always been misunderstood, yet I stayed through it all. Imagine I'm always judge by my dressing, the way I look at life and on top of it, financial difficulties my family face fail to complete my demands, somehow, I took it positively. Whats more important? Family is. I'll be dead in sorrow, speechless, shocked and devastated if they're not by my side. It's simply unimaginable.

  It's fair to say that I've hated the obstacle and fail demands, but after listening to my dad's side of the story. I felt guilty. If I were in his shoes, I'll pray for my child to understand and with just that, it'll help the situation better.

  I strongly believe that everything happens for a reason, so I'll just move on with this Happy-go-lucky disguise and make the most out of it. Like they say, the happiest person in this world, hides the deepest story.