Saturday, December 4, 2010

[ . . . . S.S.1 . . . . ]

With Allah's love
Assalamualykum to my dear

Dear, tonight, there's something I wanna tell you. A story, of course. It's been such a very long time since I wrote a story. At this moment, my mind just full of negative thoughts about what's around me and I need to buy sometime to clear this up from my mind. I need my focus back so I guess I'll try to overcome this matter with a story. Dear, you don't have to hear the story all along. Just spare me some space for my own, okay? That should be just fine with me. =)

* * *

She looks around the table and just can't find it anywhere. This is weird, too weird. She is certain that she put her notebook on that table just now. What is going on with me lately? I kept forgetting things and it's driving me crazy every day in my life! Abby talk to herself.

She tries harder and looks around. Looking around for once more under the table, between the cushion, and even at the ashes in the flaming red fireplace. Well, it is the last place she would like to check on.

Abby starts to scream in her herself. Her breath is becoming faster because of the panic. 'What the heck am I gonna do? He's gonna kill me like a duck with his gun! Oh dear, where is it?' Abby murmurs by herself.

"Mom! Did you see my notebook I put on this table this morning?" Abby gives up. She goes to the kitchen and look straight to her mother, Mrs Parker who is trying to bake some cookies.

"Mom, I'm searching my notebook. Did you see it?" she asked, again.

"No, dear. Where did you put it?" her mom still concentrating at the flour she's pouring.

"I put it on that table at the front but now it's gone. I need it because my story is in that book."

"The story that the guy had been wanting for?"

"Yes, mother. And he's coming to get it today. I really need it, mom. Did you have any chance seeing my notebook?" Abby began to feel the chill, imagining the face of that guy, waiting for her to explain.

"Well, you know what Abby, I guess you shall tell that man to get away from you, and from this house the moment he come by. That is, IF he ask for your explanation."

'What?!' "Mom, how could you say that! Did you throw away my notebook? Did you?" Abby starts to feel the pain.

"No, I didn't but your mother over here is trying to protect you, my dear Abigail from that guy whose being such a nuisance since the first time he came into this house." Mrs Parker stops her work and look at her daughter. "Dear, can't you please for once, think back about what you have done to your life? You've been stuck in this house for years, writing stories to be submitted to that man which is for me, they are wonderful but never been appreciated all this time. You leave aside your true life out there just to make yourself become a total invisible to your pals, your neighbours, and even to your cousins."

'Argh... Here it come again.' Abby starts to feel annoy.
"Mom, I didn't. I didn't waste my life on something that's not worth it. I love writing, and I love telling stories to other people so that at least, someone in this world that reads one of my stories and starts to think like how I did when I jot down the story."

Mrs Parker has had enough with her daughter. She can't let it be like this anymore. She just wants to see her daughter be like all of the other teenagers out there. Living a life with social connection, seeing the world and knowing the reality instead of creating imagination and having a pale skin, lack of the sunshine.

~ To be continue ~

Thinking of . . .
~ Creating Ideas, Developing Words ~
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