Welcome to The Creative Writing Class Blog of Englit '45

The Shadow

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, November 28, 2008 | Posted in

When I was awake, I did know where I was. I could not recall what happened before I closed my eyes, I tried to remember but could not. It seemed that my mind was blank and there was no memory in my brain.

A woman entered my room by bringing me a breakfast. I did not know her because her face was strange to me. She put the food on the table beside my bed, after that, she went out of my room without saying anything. I got up from my bed and looked around my room.

I saw a girl standing beside the window who looks so pretty with her white skin, long black hair, and beautiful face but her countenance was pale. I noticed her trying to recognize her but I am not really acquainted with her. I approached her and tried to make conversation.

"I am bewildered what happened to me; I do not know why I am here in this room.” I said to open the conversation and expected that she could explain about what happened but there was no response from her, she just smile cynically. I could not understand about her cynical smile but I was sure that there was implicit meaning of it. I still noticed her pale face wondering about her presence in this room. "Do you know why I am here?” I tried to ask her and hoped that she would answer my question to tell me about what happened.

"Listen, everything what happened is because of you! I was trapped here because of you! You are the cause of what happened to you and me!” She answered my question angrily; it made me feel to be more confused. I could not think and recall what I did before I was not awake but there was still blank in my mind.
”I cannot understand what you said, why do you blame me happened? What thing that I committed making you implicated in my problem?” I asked her expecting that she would give me explanation about what she said to me. She looked at me angrily as if she would kill me.

”Follow me!” she asked me to follow her and hold my hand without asking my agreement to follow her or not. She brought me to a grave which its gravestone was carved a name that I think the name was not6 familiar to me, Claudia Smith (1988-2008). "Whose grave is it? Who is Claudia?" I was still confused but I did not want to ask my question to her. I tried to guess what it meant but I could not because I thought I did not know Claudia and my relation with her.

"Do not you remember her when she was alive?" she asked me as though she knew that I had ever known Claudia but I still did not remember anything. Before I found the answer of her questions, she urged me to follow her again to another lace. She brought me to the room again and asked me to notice a woman that brings me a breakfast but I thought she was strange to me.

"Do not you know why she did not say anything when she delivered breakfast to you?" she asked me as if I knew the answer but I was not able to answer it.
"Look at me!" She snapped. "Look at yourself! Do not you find the answer yet?" she urged me to answer all of her questions but I believed myself that I did not know it.

"Why do you do it to me? Why do you urge me to answer it? Why do not you tell me who I am and what happened to me? I cannot understand everything what happened to me? I do not know you! I do not the woman! I do not Claudia! Moreover I do not know myself!" I cannot restrain myself to say what I have on my mind for making her satisfied that I did not know everything what happened. I looked at her angrily and noticed her paler face, her hair was tousled, and her eyes became red. I was flustered to look her changing face. It made me afraid and I bent my head to avoid her cynical gaze.

She laughed uproariously knowing my fear. Then, she cried and laughed again. I could not interpret what she did.

"Do not you remember?” she asked me for reminding me my mistakes, " you have killed your sister, Claudia, for you are jealous of her beauty. You admired yourself but you did not want someone to be prettier that you. Moreover you have cut Ms. Mary's tongue, for she is the member of church chorus. You are the member of the chorus too but she is always chosen to be the best to sing the holy song because of her beautiful voice. You are very ambitious to make your self the number one of the others." She told me that I was an accused.

"Look at me and noticed me!" She snapped. "I AM YOU and YOU ARE ME, WE ARE ONE!" she emphasizes and let me think of what she said to me. I looked at her and noticed her pale face. I touched her face, she was trapped in the mirror, and it was my shadow. I approached her and touched her face; she smiled and whispered something to me. I smiled hearing what she said, I looked on her eyes but I thought it seemed that there was something loose from myself. I still disbelieved that she was me. I tried to make myself believe that she was me. I was crying, she was too, I was laughing, she was too, I was screaming, she was too but I could not understand why she cut her wrist by using razor blade. My wrist was bleeding but I still looked at her. She was smiling, and then she disappeared. I was crazy; I talk to my shadow in the mirror.

***

Me in the Boredom Room

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, November 28, 2008 | Posted in

(Silence...)

“Ohm…”

“I remember the last day off. That was I felt in this mourning holiday, cold and blue. I was locked in my own mind, stuck in a room. Couldn’t go anywhere like in prison, asking something without answer.”

“Ohm...”

“All the same…”

“Ohm…”

“It was like this”

(Silence, but wasn’t alone...)

“Ohm…”

“Is it right??”

“Ohm…”

“I love him.”

“Ohm…”

“But I was cheating at his back.”

“Ohm…”

“I love someone else from my past.”

“Ohm…”

“And I’m waiting for him…”

“Ohm…”

“I am bored!!”

“Ohm…”

“A nightmare”

“Ohmmm…”

“TALK TO ME!!!”

“Ohmmmmm…”

“IMBECILE!?”

“OHHMMMM…”

“Forgive me…”

“I want to sit there,”

“Ohm…”

In the corner of boredom room, waiting for someone show the truth. The more shouting, the more it’s like a grave yard.

(On the wall, there were shadows staring. Black. Waving. High.
Through the window; there were tears from the sky going together with sorrow and pain.)

“You know I am so angry with you!”

“Ohm…”

“I felt like I was lost. I was a loser, because I was just watching; watching people forgetting their past and their history. And I was the only one who lived in the memories. I obsessed with every single thing from my past. If I could I would do anything to bring them to present. Therefore, I refused to live here. I just wanted to live… living in the memories, to be eternal.”

“Ohm…”

“What’s the time now?”

“Ohm…”

“It seems already morning, isn’t it?”

It was raining outside but the sky so beautiful not blue but grey.

“Ohm…”

“Dark again”

“Ohm…”

“Damn!”

“Ohm…”

“Why are you just following me??”

“Ohm…”

“Please talk to me! I just want one thing. I want to go back to my past!”

“Ohmmm…”

“OF COURSE, I DO!!”

“OHMMM…”

“I do, I remember date and time; September twenty second, Sunday… twenty five after nine.”

“Ohmm…”

“I want to wait for him. He promised me he can bring me to the past in where I know I can mix my memories and desire. I want him to come. It’s been a years and nothing happen. So please help me, but I won’t get out of here either. It feels like I am about to die.”

“Ohm…”

“Why are you just…! Please talk to me. Where is he?”

“Ohm…”

“I am tired.”

“Ohm…”

“Huh??”

“Ohm…”

“You just don’t care! Stupid!”

“Ohmmm”

“Irresponsible!”

“Ohm…”

“I know someday will come and today will be the PAST. But I don’t like a day TODAY!!!?”

“Ohmm…”

“You are disgusting!”

“Ohm…”

“I am tired waiting.”

(In the boredom room, on its wall, there were shadows, laughing, waving, black, and whispering.)

“Just get over it!”

“Why don’t you just leave?!”

“NO!”

“Just leave and let me here alone!”

“NO, we have to be always together.”

“For what? We are just shadows and nothing will be changed”

“You are so pessimistic.”

“I am realistic”

“You are tired”

“Yes I am, just go!”

“No, I’ll wait for you.”

“There is no use to wait!”

“Excuse me??!”

“I said there’s no use to WAIT! Just go away and reach your future in front of you. With me you’re just being only a shadow.”

In the boredom room, on its wall, there were just shadows. Gloomy. Still raining outside. It became cooler, will be more shivering.

“Not anymore please!”

“Ohm…”

“Dream”

“Ohm…”

“Nightmare…”

“Ohm…”

“What else?”

“Ohm…”

“Ohmmmm…”

“Ohmmmm…”

“Ohmmmm…”

“Ohm…”

“Ohhhhmmmmmmmmm….”

Crack! Crack! Grrrrrkkhhhh! Grrrrrkkhhhh!

(There were no more shadows. In the boredom room, on its white wall, clean, it’s stained by the blood spots.)

Silence…

“Ohmm…”

***

Empty

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Friday, November 28, 2008 | Posted in ,

I was motionless but I could feel my body was fallen down the asphalt. Felt down into the darkness and the frozen silence. In eternity. I thought I knew what this darkness felt like and the frozen silence tasted like. It was like an end of mine.

I saw there was totally dark everywhere but I was certain that I always kept my eyes on along the Broadway. “Where is everybody? Is there any body here?” were the questions I asked myself repeatedly. Then I deemed it, I was all alone and there was soundless. I was listening but there was no sound.

Out of the blue, I thought I heard and saw something was moving in the dull.

Something frightening…

The wings of that monster started to spread out like a sail of a boat. It looked like a dragon with the wings. Its eyes flared up violently like a flash light and I felt an earthquake when it walked its foot near to me.

It was getting near.

The flame was drawn out from its big mouth and its sharp teeth blinded my eyes with its glare. I was so scared; I didn’t even dare to stare it, I hid my eyes with the both of my hands. I did nothing when its wings crashed into the power cable. The crash brought about the magnificent fireworks from the electric cable. The cable was severed and struck down the cars around it.
The eyes of the monster looked intently at me. An enormous fear made me scream but no voices out. And I couldn’t do something. I felt pain in my breast, crawling into my arms and moving on my legs. It put together a throbbing heart of mine.

And my heart…

I guessed my heart would blow up in a second, my eyes jumped out, and my brain got out of my opened mouth that was screaming when I opened my eyes and saw the features of the dragon changing into my father’s countenance.

He’s getting nearer then I could smell an alcohol from his mouth. And he’s staring at me in an angry face and ready to confront me.

Well I knew it would be the end of my life. But wait! I didn’t realize that I held a knife in my hand, why wouldn’t I use it?

All of a sudden, the frost covered my whole body when I tried to plunge the knife into his eyes.

But I touched my body was frozen like a slab of ice.

In a few moments later, the frozen ice of mine disappeared. I awakened by a warm wave flowing through over my body. The darkness had already changed into the sunlight that came through the window’s gap, when you opened it.

“Sam, c’mon, gets up! The school bell won’t wait!” said you.

“I hate school, Mom.” I murmured.

“But you have to, honey,” your voice calmed me down. You was sitting in the bed side now and starting to lay drawn my blanket.

“Is it hurt Mom?” asked I.

“No, just get up and take a bath now!”

I knew it was hurt you. I knew how terrible he broke your heart into pieces. Why won’t you set yourself free from him? If I could do something for you it would be an honour for me.
“Sam, have you finished your bath!?” you yelled at me while I was washing my entire bad dream on my head.

“In a minute Mom!”

As soon as I got out of the bathroom with a strange spotless mind, you’re still at my bedroom, standing with a disappointed and depressed glance into mine.

Damn! I forgot that thing, the one now you held in your hand.

“Will you tell me what it is for?” You started say angrily.

You must find it under my pillow—the thing I used to kill the monster of my dream.

“Your husband should have been died this morning Mom.” I straight to answered you, I tried hardly to be that calm.

I had the nerve to saw your face; it had become a deathly pale.
“Sam, what are you talking about? He is your father.” You threw the knife and shaking my body hardly.

“No, he’s not!” I shouted you at the face.

“Look at you Mom! You are so miserable. Are you just fine in the situation like this? There you are. You are not anymore the woman I used to know!” added I showing you a mirror so that you could see how awful you were. Then there were tears finally bathing your cheek and you left me alone in a silence.

***

The sun that was shining brightly in June that made me felt a warm breeze in my shoulders. It was very contrast with the gloomy heart I had. It made me feel so hard to forget the bad thing came about me last night. Those hours of darkness all the hatred of mine being a huge mountain, I was losing control. Because of him all of the pain of mine started.

The thing happened again on the next day, I was just about a minute arriving at home, wishing to show you the paper of my biology and English which had a very good score from school. Bella and Tom were sitting outside looked so sad.

“What happened? Where is Mom?” I asked them.

Bella—Tom’s twin sister—ran to me and crying in my embrace. “He’s drunk anymore. He slapped Mom and rammed Mom’s head against the wall twice and it’s currently bleeding. Sam, I’m so scared.”

“He also broke my pig and took away all of my money!” witnessed Tom.

I heard the crash, boom and bang inside home, I knew you were fighting anymore. But when I came inside, he passed me through with the hand full of money, I was sure that were Tom’s.

It made me stood as a mannequin does nothing to do but watching the tears of yours. I squeezed the paper of my good score that now became a ball of paper and I threw it all away. I walked inside my bedroom and locked the door.

There I sat, next the window watching the bustard leaving home and probably back in the middle of the night or probably not.


There I closed my eyes and started to think why there was too much pain and sorrow occurred to this family. It was all because of him. But what if…

I wished he died.

The empty feeling was dancing in my head…

I tried to open my eyes, felt that the anguish of mine no longer in control. For all the things he had done to me, to you, Bella, and Tommy now he had to die.

In the middle of that night I got up and soon my foot led me to the kitchen looking for a knife that surely had been hid somewhere by you. I would use it to kill him when everybody was drowning in their dream.

It would be easy to kill him when he was drunk and slept in the couch. There was no knife I found. Maybe you had vanished all of it before something happened to him.

A desire to kill him was being an ambition of mine. If I didn’t kill him quickly, you and all my sisters would feel more pain in your life and I couldn’t let it in.

I sat at the chair on the kitchen, I was worried if couldn’t find that knife. I felt a burning hatred on my head. A whispering voice of the devil insisted me to do that but it was soon broken by a sound of a crying. A crying of a woman was heard vaguely. I was sure that there were you who cried in the middle of a silence.

What had he done to you? I was convinced there was something bad happened to you. I moved towards you at your room. But…

I was shocked with the thing that I saw.

There on the floor sat you with the hands full of blood and the knife in front of you. The death corpse of my father was lying next to you with a red fluid flow from it. The monster of my nightmare was gone and there would be no more flame drawn out from its big mouth that spread out the wretched of my life.

“I kill him, Sam. I’m a murderer. Forgive me…” you said with the tears bathed your cheeks. Suddenly I felt weak. I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there like a stone.
I built up all the nerve into mine and took the knife on the floor. I dragged myself into the telephone in the corner of the room.

“I’ve killed my father…” said I in the end of the call.

***

Grandma

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 27, 2008 | Posted in ,

The sun spreads its warmness to the ground. It makes human beings, animals, and plants stay alive in this world. An old lady is sitting on the white bench in front of the big house and looking at the flowers which grow in the yard. Every morning she does it. She likes the shining sun in the morning.

While looking at some flowers, the lady also can see some people who walk in a narrow path in front of her gate house. Sometimes they greet the lady. She is very happy when people come to greet her. She often gives some vegetable or fruits for them whom visit her house. She doesn’t mind if people come to her house only for asking some fruit or vegetable. She plants some vegetable and fruit tree in the back garden. Many children play in the garden.

They like to eat fruit in the tree.


The sun is getting very hot. The old lady enters the house. She sits in the living room. There are some chairs and painting on the wall. The color of the room makes the atmosphere very silent. One thing that make it different, there is no picture of her family on the wall or on the cupboard. Only some statues stand next to the stairs.


“It’s time to tell a story.” Says the old lady.


She stands up and moves to the front of the big cupboard. She opens on of the drawers. Her hand goes inside the drawer taking a big book. She opens the book and reads it for a while then put it back. She closes the drawer then opens another drawer. There are many books inside it. She reads every book’s titles. She still hasn’t find the book that she want.


“I’m so sorry, dear. You have to wait. I will find the book. Just sit down.” Says the old lady.

No one answers.


She goes to the kitchen. She takes a small thin box then opens it. She uses a spoon to take some white powder from the box and pours it into the glass. She also pour some hot water. She shakes it using the spoon. She brings the glass of white liquid to the living room and put the glass on the table in front of a big sofa.


“I made a glass of milk. Be careful! It’s still hot.” Says the old lady.

After she puts the glass, she goes upstairs then enters the room. The room is very clean and tidy. The color of the room is blue and purple. There are many toys on a small cupboard, in the big yellow basket, and on the table. The pictures of cartoon movies cover the wall.

The old lady takes a teddy bear doll which sits on the bed with its friends. Then she goes back to the sofa in the living room.


“This is your lovely Teddy bear. Hey…the glass is still full. You haven’t drunk the milk yet, right? It’s bad. You know, the milk is very sweet. It’s good for your health. I will look for the story book and I want you to drink it all down. OK!” says the old lady.


She leaves the teddy bear alone and goes to another room.


“There it is!” says the old lady. “Dear…I found it!” the old lady run to the sofa and sits on it.

“I found it, Dear; this is a story from America. The story is about a boy who realy likes fishing.”

Then the old lady starts to read the story.


“No! I haven’t read the book yet. I want to wear my glasses first. I can’t read the written without it. If you want to be a good story teller, please tell something factual about me.” Says the old lady. Hey eyes is looking at the sky.


“Dear…Listen to the story.”Says the old lady to the teddy bear.

“One day in Antarctica, there was an Eskimo boy, named Pingi. He lived with his parents. He was good at fishing. His parents are very proud of him. Unfortunately, whenever he was fishing, he forgot about anything else. He always ignored his parents who asked him for help.”

The old lady stops reading for a while. She fixes her glasses.


One day, Pingi’s father got seriously ill and the family was running out of firewood. Pingi’s mother asked Pingi to get the firewood in the forest. Pingi went to the forest to get the firewood. On the way home, he saw a lot of fish in the river. He put the fire wood down and started fishing there. He got many fish. After some time, he was hungry and then she grilled the fish with the firewood. There was no firewood left. Pingi went home empty-handed. His mother was very angry. The father then died because of cold weather. Then Pingi’s mother chased him away. She cursed Pingi become an animal which really like catching fish.” The eyes of the old lady drop some tears. She opens the glasses. She closes her face with her hands. She is crying for a long time.


“I miss my son…he left me alone here. I need him. I don’t know why he didn’t understand!”

After some time, the old lady wipes off her tears with a handkerchief.

“Do you like the story, dear…?” says the old lady to the teddy bear.


“I know you also miss your father. I promise he will be back. He just lost his way. One day, he will understand and go back here. Because of that, you have to be a good son for him. He will be proud of you if he sees his son become a smart boy.” The old lady looks at the glass of milk. “Hey… you don’t drink your milk. Are you bored with the flavor? I will buy some milk in the nearest store. Which flavor do you like? Yesterday, I watched a milk advertisement. There is milk which has many flavors. There are chocolate, strawberry, orange, and grapes. Oh… I will buy all of the flavors so you can choose your favorite milk at home. Wait for me I’ll be back as fast as possible.”


She takes her purse and an umbrella. She lock the door. She walks to the store with following the narrow path.


“Could you leave me alone? Please don’t always follow me! Stay at home and take care of my grandson. It’s better than following me to the store and telling about my activity all the time. Oh…I forgot. That’s your job as someone who always speaks.”


On the way to the store, the lady meets some people who are talking under the big tree. They stop talking when they see the old lady. One of them greets the lady respectfully.

“Where are you going, Madam?” says the mean who is wearing glasses on his head..
“I’m going to the store to buy some milk for my grandson. Why do you wear the glasses on your head? It should be in front of your eyes.” Says the lady to the man. “ you look like a Looney man.” Add the old Lady.

Then she leaves them and continues walking to the store.

“I’m not crazy! In fact she is crazy now. Everybody knows that her grandson passed away one year ago.” Says the man

“Don’t say that, maybe she is lonely because of that. You know, she chased her son away because he always played gambling. He gambled away his entire worldly possessions until he became bankrupt. He left his wife and his son. The old lady then asked them to live with her. Six months after her son left. Her grandson passed away because he got poisoned after drinking milk. His mother was very shock because the milk is made by her. The old lady couldn’t accept this. She started to be crazy after that,” says the man who has long nose.


“Where do you know about that?

“I worked at her house as a servant but I quit two years ago. She always talks to her self. Sometimes I see her like talking to a child. She also likes reading story about a boy who ignore his mothers. All of he story books have the same theme.” Whispers the long nose man.

“Really? Poor the old lady.” Says the woman who listen to the man.

The old lady arrives at home. She puts the paper bag on the table in the kitchen.
“Could you tell an interesting story than this? I don’t like it. I want the plot of this story make people laugh. That will be a great story. A story about lonely old lady because her family was killed is boring. People can find a hundred stories like this in every book store.” Says the old lady.

“But I want a story like this. I think a story about lonely old lady is more qualified than comedy. You are only a character! Just follow the flow. Don’t claim! You cannot change the theme.” Says the mysterious sound.


“As the only one character, I mind if I take role on this story. Find another cast to continue this story. I quit!” Says the old lady. She starts to be angry.

I

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Sunday, November 23, 2008 | Posted in ,

Time has gone
For me as the invisible
Nothing's left for me
Love has gone
For me as the abandon one
No one will cry for me
Don't don't walk away
Too lonely down here
I still need you to stay
Listen, listen my crave
I'm here without presence
And you can only see my grave

Catching Star

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 20, 2008 | Posted in ,

In the afternoon, I walk alone on the lakeside where my dearest friend and I used to spend our time together to enjoy a very natural view there. I sit on the big stone which we used to sit on together to see the scenery, feed the starving fishes in the lake, and sharing our life either happy or sad.

I remember we were ten years old at that time that I consider it was beautiful childhood with my dearest friend, Anna.

Anna was a cheerful little girl; she has a sharp well formed nose, slant-eyed like crescent moon, and dimples in her cheek making everyone looking at her admired her at the first sight.

I was amazed at her beauty that I think it was a very perfect beauty like a fairy in the world; there is no girl as beautiful as her whom I ever meet in my life. Her curly long hair is nicely waved when the wind blow touching it like the waves on the sea. Anna and I were close friend, we used to go to lake, we called it the dream lake, in the afternoon after school until night came. We spent our time together for freeing our feeling.

We used to sit on a big stone beside the lake and look at the twinkle stars which we pretended to own them. The one bright green star was mine and the one bright red star war hers, each has her own star to be catched, held and put it in our life. The stars were our life, they were our hopes.

I still really remember when we looked at stars; Anna told me a story about a beautiful fairy bringing starlight everywhere she goes.

“Guess what?” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“Thing that I am thinking about”, she answered.

I thought for a moment and tried to guess what she was thinking about in mind, I thought she was feeling happy because of getting “A” for math but I guessed it was not the answer because by observing her face, she looked unusual with her calm face. She still waited for my answer, her face seemed saying to me that you did not know the answer so, let me tell you the answer. Finally, I gave up for guessing it and let her tell it.

“I think I do not know what you are thinking about” I said.
“Are you sure that you do not want to try to guess the answer?” she asked.

“No, I give up” I answered surely.

“Look at my bright red star” she pointed the star and began to tell about what she was thinking.

“There was a beautiful fairy wearing white dress and having wings on her shoulders in the sky. She lived everywhere, in the moon, in the planets, in the heaven even in the stars but I believe she live here in my heart too, she also lived in your heart, in our heart, for she always brings her starlight like us.”

I did not understand what she meant; I wonder who the fairy was that she trusted living everywhere even in our heart too. I tried to interpret it but I cannot.

“Do you know what her name is, Angie?” she asked.

I was confused why she asked it to me; I believed she really knew that I surely did not know what the fairy’s name is. It seemed that she wanted me to interpret it.

“No, of course I do not know, Anna.” I answered.

“Hope, her name is hope, Angie.” She told me.

It seemed that she gave clue to me for guessing what she was thinking about related to the story. She still wanted me to interpret it but I was still bewildered of it. I thought she really knew it and started to continue her story with its explanation about it.

“Hope always goes everywhere every where bringing the starlight which she took from her bright star, she has ever been here and lived in our heart. Before she goes to other places, she gives us the starlight living forever in our heart. Therefore, you must hold and save it because if not you would hurt her and your self.” She said.

I still did not understand what she meant; I thought it was an implicit message that she wanted to convey to me but I did not get it yet, probably, one day I will understand the meaning of her story. Moreover, I felt something different at that time; the day was different with the days that we have passed together by sharing our life story but the day when she told about the story of hope seemed that we would be separated.

Next day, Anna disappeared, she did not come to school and there is no any message giving information what happen with her. Therefore, I had initiative to visit her house for getting information about her after school. There was no one in her house; it was strange that she disappeared with her family. I looked for information until night but I still did not get it. I was afraid that last night became our last meeting.

Seven years passed after the disappearance of my dearest friend, Anna. I could not forget our last meeting when she told me about Hope; I thought she wanted me to keep hope in my life. I always tried to interpret what she meant by telling the story about the beautiful fairy always bringing starlight named Hope.

On day in the morning, there were people claiming that they were Anna’s family and they wanted to meet me and asked me to go along with them for meeting Anna. My parents allowed me to go with them because they knew that I really missed my dearest little friend, Anna,
On the way, I was confused what was happened with Anna, there was nothing that I could do but expecting she would be fine.

The car stopped in front of e hospital. The people bringing me to meet Anna did not let me ask something, they only wanted me to follow them without saying anything; we entered the hospital and passed room by room until we stopped in the front of the room 202. My heart pounded for entering the room, I hoped Anna would be fine; God please let me meet my dearest friend with her good condition. I entered the room with a pounding heart; I did not what would happen.

I was shocked looking Anna lying on the bed weakly with infusion. I could not restrain my tears flowing from my eyes down my cheek, I was very sad looking her in this condition after long time we did not meet.

Her family started to tell me about what happened with her. The last seven years, the next day after our last meeting, Anna was not strong enough to endure her illness, leukemia; her parents took her to hospital. Anna asked her parents to keep her illness secret for me because she did not want me to be sad. She had fought against her illness for long time because she had hope that she would be recovered from her illness. In fact, there was no hope for her. The doctor could not cure her illness.

Anna opened her eyes; I wiped away my tears and approached her. She looked happy to see me after long time we were separated; it was our first meeting again. She smiled and apologized to me for leaving me without giving information. I forgave and asked her to be strong.

“Do you still remember about Hope, Anna?” I asked.
She just nodded her head without saying anything.
“I had kept Hope in my heart for you believing that I can see you again after you left me, Anna. Now it comes true, I can see you and hold your hand again. Hope brings me to you so you must keep Hope too for your life, we will sit on the big stone beside our dream lake to see our stars again.” I gave spirit to her.

“Yes, Angie, I always keep Hope and bring her starlight in my heart, therefore I believe I will be recovered from my illness but I think my life is not long enough again, forgive me Angie, I could not be strong enough for restraining all; I am tired and want to take a rest; can you do something for me, Angie?” she asked me.

“Yes, yes of course, Anna, I will do everything for you if it can make you happy and forget you illness.” I answered.
“If I die, please keep my hope and catch my bright red star because every time we looked at our stars in our dream lake, I wanted to catch it and give it to you to make you happy. I asked you do not cry and keep my star, the stars were our life and they were our hopes.” She begged me.

That was my last meeting with my dearest friend before she died. Now, I am alone here in our dream lake looking at the stars but I believe she still here with me looking at our star too. My dearest friend I will always keep Hope for you to see your smile in the heaven.

The End

A Little Girl and Me

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 20, 2008 | Posted in ,

The wind blew softly, the weather cool enough and the smell of the fresh grass created a harmony even in a grave yard. The sound of a crying little girl in a front of a grave brake a quietness on that place. She cried slowly but every creatures on that place which was used to with the loneliness definitely was hampered by the sound even just a little.

She was a beautiful orphan girl. She looked pale with a pair of sad grey eyes and brunet hair. Her legs was very dirty because she didn’t wear sandals or shoes, she was barefeet. She spread some wild flowers on that grave with shaking hands which described that she could handle the emotions and what she felt on that time.

A black dove bird flew toward her which looked like it already there to share the little girl pain. She suddenly realized that not only her but also there was other lives which already existed there before her. She shook her head by hoping could find someone else and not only the bird there and she smiled a very charming smile because her hope was granted, she found me.

“Why you always cry little girl ?” I asked her.
“Because I feel so lonely without anyone beside me.”
“But you always cry everyday”
She smiled.
I looked at her eyes deeper “Hey, it doesn’t mean that you can cry like that.”
“Yeah, I know that isn’t good for me.”
“Um…OK” I couldn’t anymore to not caressed her hair “But what can I do for you to make you stop crying, dear ?”

“I will stop crying if I can go out of here, how is that ?” She said that with her innocent face.
“But I came here almost everyday to play with you. I always tells you a different story and gave you a candy when I came everyday.” I touched one of her chubby cheeks.
She showed me all her candies to me “you can take them back if you want to.”
It surprised me “Are you boring with the candies, honey ?”, “why you didn’t tell me since I gave it to you for the first time, six years ago ?” , “how about chocolate, hmm... ?”

She shook her head “No…I don’t anything from you. I know that I’ve already had you beside me and that’s enough but I promise you for not crying like that anymore with one condition that you will let me go, will you ?” There were tears on her face.

“OK !”
“Are you serious ?”
“Yeah, I was falling in love with you since I saw you for the first time; with your eyes twelve years ago and your crying for the first time in your life, Julia. And because we have the same destiny, to complete each other.”

She smiled and hold my face with her two little white hands “So, it’s the time right ?”
“Yup, it’s the time. It’s the right time, dear.” I convinced myself.
She whispered some strange air into my face and suddenly I felt free. We flew together through the sky. I looked down to the grave yard and saw her grave which was written “Julia Anniston, R.I.P on 12 October 2002”. Yeah, the Bali Bombing has token her life six years ago when I took her for vacation but unlucky me because that accident not took my life also but only her. That’s why I couldn’t let her go because I didn’t have anyone else in my life.
“We will be sister forever?” she asked.
“Yeah, we will be sister forever.” I convinced her and myself .

A Brief Talk

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 20, 2008 | Posted in ,

(Inspired by Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s An Angel With Enormous Wings)

I saw an angel.

He was standing under a dying tree in middle of an abandon grassy yard. Afternoon sun gave me a perfect glance of him, an unhandsome old man with almost bald gray hair. The wind breezed his dreary dirty shattered wings, a type which you wouldn’t ever see at immaculate Christmas’s postcard image.

But I knew he was an angel. His feet didn’t touch dry and cloaked soil under him. Instead, he was more like vague resemblance than flesh and blood substances like me. And I knew he was an angel because my heart said so, and what you could ever believe more? He gave me his toothless smile as I moved toward him. He talked, with universal language, which didn’t have to be uttered. But you would understand it instantly because your heart, the very trusted part of your body, said so.

“I was lost”

“From what?” asked me, with mortal language, which have to be uttered since my mortal nature hindered me from not doing so.

“ A battle”

“What battle?”

“Of humanity” Then he cried, with tears that you wish you wouldn’t ever see or imagine, in the rest of your sinner days.

I instantly felt some kind guilt, the one that you felt after you yelled at your parents or hurt someone you loved the most. I didn’t know why, but I assumed it was simply because he was an angel, the most sacred being after God himself. I hope you would nod to my statement if you also believed in them.

I asked him again, “What battle that you lost and why you cried?” Instead of answering my question, he asked me to walk with him. I, who was charmed by his uncanny irresistible charisma, couldn’t resist his invitation. Therefore we strode between wild bushes until reaching the borders of city and abandon land. I immediately shouted him, “Don’t go to the city, the place was burned out with the inner hell.”

He answered me, with a beatific smile instead of an uttered language. I guessed he wanted me to follow him first then the answer would come afterward.

Then I chose to follow him first.

We arrived at the Islamic clergy elementary school in the suburban area. The class was already started; students were listening their teacher with full-adored attention. “There is no God besides Allah, and Mohammed is His prophet.” Said teacher. My memory wandered to my own childhood days in clergy school.

“When you did naughty things, you will suddenly enter hell, the place of eternal fire where sinners become its fuel.” Said my teacher. His words rose hair at nape of my neck. Then I asked him back, “What we should do to avoid hell?” He answered with solemn voice, “Don’t do naughty things and prayed to Allah all the time.”

Hell, what a chilling word. Afterward, I became a very nice young child toward my parents. I didn’t want entering hell after I die. I prayed to God and behaved in nice attitude only for avoiding hell. I didn’t want to be eternal fuel in Hell. But then I got bored easily; being a nice child didn’t bring any fun side. You couldn’t yell, play, and do anything as you pleased. Life was full with burden.

The angel grinned; I thought he was reading my own self-sin confession. I felt little bit embarrassed. But the Angel said that I was not the only one who felt like that. Hell is not only a horrifying but also captivating word. Most of people, prayed to God in order to avoid Hell only.

But was it the only core of worshiping?

How about love toward God?

I guessed no one could give me exact answer besides the Angel himself. Then I turned to him for exact answer. But I was wrong, instead answering my question; he just smiled and said that I was the only one who could answer my own restless question.

Then we continued our journey until he stopped by in the university. Again, he shed his tears. I was confused and then asked him the reason behind his tears. He said that university is the place where human starts to reject God by assuming that they are already finding ultimate knowledge of everything.

“Was it wrong? Was it human’s mission to find ultimate knowledge of everything?” Asked me.

“No, but the arrogance was the down side. When human starts to feel they are already being the source of knowledge, you only have to wait the catastrophe of humanity fall cruelly on them.”

I didn’t want to continue our debate. It would only begin another conflict, one which didn’t have any final solution since Icarus failed to fly conquering the sun. I guessed he realized it and continued our walk to the inner city.

Another stop was Internet cafĂ©, the new restless shrine of modern human. People starred at the computer with full attention, some giggling and some expressing their horny face. The Angel was stand still. We talked no more but watching them. After few seconds The Angel asked me with archaic question, “I couldn’t understand but wonder why so called modern human built it.”

“It is new stage of modern communication, human could cut the distance and communicate easily with other people.” I answered with kind of proud toward internet, the best human’s invention ever. But he grinned instead of admiring, “Don’t you think internet is kind of oxymoron. When human say that they build new stage of communication, they also cut the real communication at same time. They are so called virtually talking to people.”

“Don’t you think, God is also kind of modern communication. When I prayed to God, I felt like talking in private chatting room which giving me nothing but empty reply.” I answered him with full rage, which I didn’t understand where it came from.

He didn’t give me any answer, I think he would never give me any answer and our journey would never end.

The Hardest Thing

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2008 | Posted in

The hardest thing is not leaving
But standing here while pretending
As if nothing had change
And I talk to you, not your grave

The pain is not yours but mine
As well as every remorse
For every good things I couldn't say
For every good deeds I couldn't pay

My Dear Dessy

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2008 | Posted in

At first I encountered her, I just noticed her as a typical girl next door who was living in the strict standard of a nice girl and the positive laws of our country. She seemed happy with her family, her friends, her boyfriend, and the most important thing, herself, which including her body and other physical appearances, a part which I never, ever could do with my own until my age reached twenty something.

She is smart, the fact that I think can’t only be proved by her perfect GPA but also by her attitude and her maturity. I think a smart girl is not only the one who could prove her brilliant GPA or her handsome stud but also the one who could put herself in perfect place in every situation, no matter how difficult her situation it is. An advertisement said that maturity is a choice and she chose to be mature in her early twenty.

She always looks perfect in every situation. I never, ever look at her with frown face due to personal problem. Despite I don’t know about the things that happen behind the closed door but I think she is truly happy with her own or she can handle her own problem without being drama queen like used to do. I think it is because she considers every problem as light as air. Once I ever envied her perfect GPA but she made me realized that life is not only about it. She gave me advice to loose myself and enjoyed life more. I did and it made much happier about myself.

She talks very calmly, a thing that I adore the most (Please don’t ever give this note to her because I will die in shame). I never see her with full fury, like I always do every day. I always want to imitate her calmness and mature soft-spoken attitude but it always ended with awkwardness.

In the other words, she is as normal as you can see. I thought she had no desire to live outlaw behind the standard of our dear society. But I was half wrong. She did live in standard but it was only in the surface. After I hung up with her pretty closely, I recognized her brain as deviated as a mental patient, partially.

She has kind of multiple personal disorders in written forms. Don’t ever judge the book by its cover and it will be good advice to know her better. Despite her good girl without any deviation appearance, you can read some of her works and notice that she has pretty many ideas to kill someone or such plots, which would make Poe nodding his head from his eternal grave.

It didn’t shock me the most because I think she must be has some dark side, like other person. But the part that interested me the most is how she could manage herself to look as normal as any person did and go on living with cruel stuffs in her head. As the conclusion, I grab many good things from her to make me better and put aside her bad ones as the remainder that nobody is perfect.

In the End

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2008 | Posted in

When I was laying beside my rose.
He came to me with all the sharp sightly.
I ran to mars, saturn, nearly pluto.
But, He hold me fast and slowly.

The two of his wings are complicated.
The right is woman, the left is snake.
pity, the lamp was turned off by him.

My Terrible Holiday

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2008 | Posted in

Holiday seems to be the precious day in my life. I can sleep, watch TV, play games and hang out with friends all the time without thinking of school task. I always feel excited if holiday comes.

But I couldn’t feel happy when I met holiday last month. I spent my holiday with crying and regretting. I didn’t know who the trouble maker is. It could be me or Dedi. I also didn’t understand the reason why I decided to break up my relation with him.

Before holiday, I had to finish my final test. The last test was Interpreting class. For your Information, Interpreting subject was my favorite subject. I was always got good scores in this subject.

But I think I can’t get good scores anymore. An hour before the test started, Dedi sent me SMS. He said he would ask me to come to his house to meet his mother. He would introduce me to his mother next week. Because of that, during the Interpreting class, my brain always asked many questions. “What am I going to wear? What about my hair? Should I wear it high or just let it loose?”

This was not fair. Dedi should have told me about this weeks ago. How could I prepare myself in so short a notice? Because my brain couldn’t stop thinking about tonight, I didn’t understand any single word that the lecturer said.

“Yayu, are you still with me? I’m waiting for the answer,” the horrible woman sitting in front of me asked, sounding annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss. could you repeat the question?”

The lecturer rolled her eyes and heaved a big sigh. “ You have been asking me to repeat my question so many times that I lost count, young lady. You can use a little concentration here. Or maybe you forget, you are now taking an oral test. So please pay attention to the speaker and stop daydreaming,” she said angrily. She stressed every syllable of her words.

Actually she was a nice lecturer. My attitude made her angry. She was right I couldn’t focus on this test. I guessed I would get bad scores this semester. I was glad after the test, I wouldn’t meet her at least for three months. So, after I failed to translate her next two questions, she impatiently sent me out. I took my test card and went to the door without even saying thank you or goodbye.

Next week, while I was putting on my make up, I couldn’t stop thinking again about Dedi’s mother, “Is she a sweet cake or a fierce dragon lady?” how I wish I didn’t have to through this.

After looking at my reflection in the mirror, I applied some more pearly-lilac eye shadow on my eyelids. As a final touch, I brushed some glittery baby pink lipstick on my lips. Then I checked my reflection in the mirror again. I looked perfect; perfect hair, flawless make up, tight-fitting burgundy sweater, black skirt, a matching handbag, and a pair of black leather boots.

I turned around twice, and suddenly I started to worry because again my brain asked, “ am I trying too hard? Am I overdressed? “ the doorbell cut off my reverie. It must be Dedi. Before I left my room, I sprayed some perfume behind my ears and on my wrists.

I went to the kitchen to say goodbye to my mom. She was busy stirring something in a pan.

“Mom, I’m leaving.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek and went to the front door.

“Take care, sweetheart. Good luck,” she said while she was stirring.

When I opened the front door, I saw the gorgeous guy on earth. Dedi is wearing a blue sweatshirt and a pair of cargo pants.

“Hi Yayu. You look great.”

“Thanks, you too,” I replied.

“Shall we? Do I have to say hi to your parents?”

“No, that’s OK. Mom is busy cooking and dad isn’t at home. Let’s go.”

We went to Dedi’s house by Dedi’s blue Honda Jazz.

When we were on the way, my heart beat fime times faster than usual.

“Are you OK, honey?” Dedi asked. “you look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I look at him adoringly. My Dedi looked very much like a gorgeous actor. Is he look like his mother or his father?, my brain again asked.

I remembered the first time we met. It was at the mall six month ago. I was waiting for a movie when dedi came over and introduced himself. I was very surprised and delighted at the same time.

He asked for my phone number and called me later that night. One week later we went out on a date. At the time, Dedi spoke a word of English. His English was very good. In fact, Dedi was the reason why I began learning English seriously. Now, of course, my English was getting better. Sometimes we spoke in English.

“So here we are,” dedi announced, he took me back to reality. After turning off the car, he got out and opened the car door for me. “ is he a gentleman or what!” my mind said.

“Let’s go inside.” He took my hand in his.

Inside the house, we were greeted by the barking dog. That was the biggest dog I have ever seen. I was really scared.

“Shut up, Scooby!” Dedi cried to the dog then looked apologetically at me. “Scooby is Mom’s pet. Don’t be scared by his size. He is actually tame and sweet/”

He took the dog away. “I’ll take him to the back yard. I’ll be right back,” he said. “Please sit down”

I went to the sofa and sat down. Before I got a chance to look around, a woman with Muslim veil entered the room and greeted me. “Hello. You must be Yayu. Nice to meet you.”

I stood up and shook her hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you too.”

I guessed she was Dedi’s mother. At that time I knew the reason why dedi was so gorgeous. He obviously got his looks from this beautiful woman. “ You have a lovely house, Mrs. Yohanah,” I tried to start the conversation.

“Well, thank you, dear. Too bad. This isn’t my house. I’m just visiting. And I’m not Mrs. Yohanah.,” she said.

I was really confused.

The lady smiled before she continued. “I’m Fitriah, Dedi’s aunt. Dedi’s father is my brother.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s OK.”

Fitriah and I had a little chat. It was funny but I realized that I knew so little about Dedi. three years ago he lived in Samarinda and came to Bekasi six months ago. From Fitriah I learned that Dedi’s parents got divorce when he was six years old. Dedi moved to Samarinda with his father. And after his father passed away one year ago, dedi lived with Fitriah in Samarinda. Our talk was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind us. Then came Dedi’s voice.

“I see you’ve met my aunt, Yayu. Now I’d like you to meet my mother. Mom, this is Yayu.”

I turned to greet Dedi’s mother. But when I saw who she was, the world seemed to stand still and time freezes. I felt feverish. Oh my God! She’s so much scarier than Scooby the giant dog! Dedi’s mother was someone who gave me Interpreting test this morning! She was Miss Lusi! I was speechless and really embarrassed.

First Posting

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Posted by Creating Class 2005 | Posted on Thursday, November 06, 2008 | Posted in

Last week, we didn't study Creative Writing at class like we used to because the lecturer and most of the students went to Puncak to join the orientation of a new Englit students!!! Unfortunately, the student of creative writing class couldn't join because some of us are very busy. Hehehe...

But for me, it's a kind of holiday, yuuupiiee.

But I don't really like it. I want to write.