Goodbye, Trevor

Have you ever met Trevor? Trevor was my best friend. Everywhere I went, Trevor would follow me. When I was scared, he'd be there so I could always count on him. He helped me get over the boogeyman under my bed. Even the bad green monsters in the closet. Every time I called him, he was always there, coming towards me and  I to him. Once, I went to camp and he was there waiting for me when I came back. When I was feeling troubled, I'd always be able to tell him everything. Even my deepest and darkest secrets! When we went to the mall, he sat with me in the car. When I went to school, he stayed at home 'cause mum said Trevor couldn't go with me. One day, I got a new bag and wanted to show Trevor what surprise was inside it. But unlike all the other days, he never came. I searched up and down. Left and right. In the attic and the basement. But he was nowhere to be found. Where? Oh, where was my Trevor? Sad and disappointed but still determined I continued  searching for him. And there I found him lying there by my bedside. My Trevor. Sound asleep. Forever and always.

P/S: I wrote this short story a long ago time.. Sound abit lame.. But what do you think?

-MichelleTan-

What a funny thing life is. We tend to always think about what is ahead of us instead of what is happening around us at a particular moment. I was sitting on a chair with a crimson cushion beside my room window. I’m guessing it was still dark out. I got myself out of bed after being woken up by a terrible nightmare. As I sat there, I leaned my head a little to the window sill. At that time, I saw many good things and some made me smile. The leaves on trees were moving gracefully. As though, they were synchronizing a perfect routine swirling in the empty road. As I sat there, my mind wandered off and soon reminded me about the nightmare that had woken me.


“I was standing in a room full of tables and chairs. Wondering why I was here, I walked around curiously. Then I heard laughter hammering me in the ear. Quickly I pressed my palms against my ear. Unable to stop it, I quickly look around again. I saw nothing but a sheet of blank parchment. As I reached for it, I felt myself floating for a brief moment and then I feel into a pit of nothingness. All black with just a single light at the end which seemed like forever. As I fell, horrors of going to a new school and not fitting in entered the dream. Not wanting to accept the fact I was the new kid I fought back.”

Later I woke, and now I’m still sitting beside the window. Leaving the nightmare behind me, I focused my attention on the magnificence of the moon. Not wanting to fall asleep after that, I gently took my guitar and started strumming a melody. Soon, human nature came by and I rushed to the toilet. After relieving my bladder, I washed my hands and decided to freshen up since I was already awake. A warm bath later, I wiped myself dry and dressed up in a cream long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. Jumping on the bed, I pulled out my diary from my secret hiding place, well, honestly, it was only under my bed. I soon scribbled ‘Today’s the big day… again. As long as I don’t screw-up, I gonna be absolute fine.’ Kayla.

Well, after that awkward moment, we didn’t talk much throughout the journey to Illinois.
On the way to Illinois, we stopped for gas and some food.
Once we were up and ready once again, we hit the road.
Mum would start mumbling to herself, so I reached for my backpack and grabbed my mp3 player, jacked in my headphone, turn it on, and hit play.
Somehow music is one of the best remedies to calm me down.
Each beat of the music is like blood pulsing in my body.
Mum always complained about the music I liked. I guess she found it “head-banging”, but honestly, are 21st century music “head-banging”, excluding all that heavy metal and x-treme rock.
Whatever mum says, Avril rules! And the best part, her words are so true.
It was beginning to get dark by the time we reached Springfield, Illinois.
It would be where I(we) would have to start over again.
The new house was neither new nor old, well, it was the sort of house that mum felt fit.
It’s a double storey semi-detached house with a small balcony at the front.
There was a small area round the perimeter where we could put some benches and laze around.
The back of the house was filled with uncut grass and thick bushes that looked like a mini jungle.
The movers had arrived earlier and had already unloaded the truck that carried the interior of our soon to be home.
Well, mums at least. I’m moving out in a few years anyway.
After we got settled in(when we had taken a little tour around the house to be exact) and mum told the movers to put the furniture in place and it looked more like a home.
But, it just was a different home with another atmosphere around me. It felt light and empty. 
My room was the nearest to the bathroom and it had a reasonable size closet on the second floor.
So, I decided to get my room done-up. The movers helped place the bed, the desk and several other items.
I had put everything else up independently.
I had hang up the soft-board above my desk and started unpacking my things.
I tried to place everything as it was back home to have some of it with me.
Then I placed mattress and made the bed and used my favourite sheets.
Then I placed my CD collection on a shelf I'd asked the movers to bring up and arranged them accordingly. I also sticked my favourite posters up on the wall.
After all that, I took out my guitar and placed it beside my bed. It was my first, and dad taught me how to play.
There were many other things I hadn’t put in my room but it was satisfying to have done so much in such a short time.
I had a little of home with me and that made me a little happier too. Another part of me was just beginning to morph into a sad being.

It was Saturday around noon, we were driving down the road. Mum was humming off tune and I was watching the view of trees like the replay of a boring sitcom. I soon got tired and tried to get some shut-eye but for some reason mum said, "This is fun, isn't it. Driving down the road together, we can finally have that mother-daughter bonding like in those classic movies." Of all the things to say. I wanted to say something sarcastic like, "Yeah mum, it is so fun I just want to jump up and down like a 6 year old that got a new bike." But instead said, "Huh? Oh, yeah... Fun." I knew she was trying her best to perk up the dull mood, but moving to Illinois was just going to be hard to adapt to. Making new friends, new school, new house, new neighbours, it just seems to difficult for me, after all, how much can you put on a 14 year olds shoulders?

"Are you okay, honey?"
"Doctor, is she okay?"
"Please, honey, listen to me;
don't leave me, here the sound of my voice."

Shoutings and cries that sounded like soft gentle murmurs to me. I was 14. An average teen that just loved to mingle by herself away from everyone else. Why? Well, lets just say I found it complicated on my behalf to "fit-in" with the crowd. As every school no matter where in the world, there will be the jocks, the popular aka wanna-be's, average kind of guy or girl like the girl-next-door type, and then there are the smart one's as I like to call them even though mostly people bully them and call them "nerds". But thats not what I want to tell here. Not exactly at least. I had just moved from Arkansas, my birth place, my home. Back home I had the best of friends I wouldn't want to trade for anything ever. Especially my best friend Jamie. Every time I think of home, I remember streams of salt water just flowing out of my eyes. All the things I would miss, the smell of the fresh pine growing at the backyard, and the sweet smell of pancakes every Saturday when Jamie would come over for a study group and school projects we used to love doing together. Remembering all that I knew later on I would have to stop glistening around the past and move on to a greater challenge; Reality.

My name is Kayla Janine and this is my tale of how I got through a year of neglectance. Well, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn't brutal or fatal. It was more of emotional suffering rather than physical torture, and pain. It was the wounds and scars, the lies and stabs that just wouldn't heal. Then hate washed me, and I soon forget every ounce of happiness I had and swam in misery. That little light I was holding on to was mearly faint.