The Boy Who Ate His Books
Part 1
When I was born, I had no idea I had some strange power inside of me. As a little baby child, my curiosity dominated over my pain and uncomfort. Putting stuff into your mouth was forbidden unless it was something on a spoon, but I never did pay attention to that grown up woman and man, always watching over me.
I sort of lived to regret that, but still, it was a great discovery, yet a horror too. One Tuesday morning when a drowsy and bored feeling was overpowering the atmosphere, the woman and the man decided to leave their vulnerable and innocent little baby boy all alone in the house he was trapped inside.
They say curiosity killed the cat. This was the first lesson I learnt when I grew up. Barely a year old, I crawled towards a mysterious yet fascinating rectangular item left on the floor by some irresponsible woman. I brandished the object and felt its touch, it was a sensational feeling, as if something exciting awaits you inside. Instinctively, I lifted the object from the floor. It was a light and thin item, with the words "Mini Dictionary" on it. The feel of the leather bind in contact with my palms was a feeling I could not comprehend at such a tender age, but it was a feeling I enjoyed.
With clumsy and stubby fingers, I dropped the object on the floor, and the object was broken. I was panicking. I broke the object, that woman was going to kill me with her deadly long stick. As a toddler, there was no other fear in the world than a cane. I tried my best to fix it, clawing at the unfolded broken object but to no avail. In a moment of panic and fear, I ripped apart a piece of the object. I was now in deeper peril. There was no way that woman would let me live. I had to get rid of the evidence. I had to. I crushed the piece into a ball, and placed it in the only place I knew things would disappear, my mouth. This proved to be effective even though it was uncomfortable to my throat, so I decided to get rid of the whole damn object, ripping it into pieces, crushing it and swallowing it down. It was a tedious process, but I knew it had to be done, lest I get that stinging feeling on my bare buttocks again.
The deed was done. Nothing was left, even the leather binding was lost somewhere inside my tummy. I marvelled at the beauty of this vanishing device which was a part of me, but my marvel was about to get even greater. The man and woman were home, and they weren't in a good mood.
"Oh no. Kelvin is crawling on the floor again. Oh. John, can you please help him up?" said the woman irritably.
"Why is it that I always have to do all this baby stuff? You're the mother, you should do it!" said the even more irritable man.
Very soon, an apocalyptic quarrel commenced, and yet I was not carried off the ground. Somehow I felt a new emotion I never felt before. It was the same feeling the woman and man felt.
"SHUT UP!"
The annoyed looks of the woman and the man faded, a new look overlapping their faces. It was a look of horror and shock.
"Did.. Did Kelvin just.. talk?" said the woman.
"I think... I think he did, Sandra,"replied the man.
Somehow they were looking at me with confusion now, and they seemed to get closer and closer. Soon, I was lifted up by the woman, being cradled in her arms felt safe and secure, almost like a protective barrier from the dangers of the outside world.
"Say that again," the man asked, and for the first time, he looked at me straight in the face.
"that again," I said, and it felt strange, as if it was a disembodied voice, I knew I was the one who said it, yet at the same time, it felt like it wasn't me who said it. What am I saying. I said it, and I knew I said it. Maybe its because this was the first time I heard a voice totally new.
This time, the man's face was filled with glee.
"Sandra! Do you know how much money we could make from this boy? Do you know that a talking baby is something unheard of in the history of mankind? Think, Sandra! With this amazing son we have, as his parents, think of the fame and fortune we would receive!" he yelled in delight.
"No, Kelvin is our baby. We cannot let anyone know about this. He's... He's special." the woman said, there was a certain tenderness to her voice.
The man nodded in agreement, but with a hint of reluctance expressed on his face.
"Tell us everything," the woman said again, this was the second time an adult looked at me straight in the face and talked.
Slowly, I began speaking words that made sense, and very soon they understood how I became the boy who ate his books.
[END OF PART 1]
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Perspective
currently trying to write a book called Perspective. maybe i'll try to write a simple draft of it. its about this boy who is constantly being bullied, and takes revenge on those that bully him by haunting them at night.
-
He deserved it. I swear he did. Nobody can get away for what they did to me. Nobody.
There he was, I saw him. Just a few hours ago at school he taunted me as I walked pass his gang, clapping at my face as if daring me to retort back. This time, he was going to pay. There he was, lying in his bedroom sound asleep, little did he know he was being watched. He was alone this time; no gang members to protect him, no more hiding behind a shield of bigger sized bullies.
I reached out my hand and unlocked the window latch. The window gave a squeak. I froze instantly at my position, determined not to give away my presence. He squirmed in his bed, and I waited with abated breath. He shifted his position, this time with his back facing me. It was then I was sure he dismissed the squeak as an insignificant sound. This was my chance.
I squeezed through the window with fluid motion, and crept towards him silently. I stared at him with fury, and my heart was filled with malice. I wanted to tear him apart, to rip him into pieces. Suddenly he bolted straight up and looked around, fear gripping his spine. With an agile leap, I crawled under his bed.
"Who's there?" he cried, his voice shaking with terror.
"You will pay for what you've done, Rob." I roared, anger overwhelming me.
He must have heard where my voice came from, and in a matter of seconds he peered down under his bed. I instantly kicked at his face, and he yelled out in pain.
I was on my feet, and he dashed towards the door. I was too fast for him. Seeing that his only exit was blocked, he shifted back from me steadily, as I walked towards him menacingly.
"Who... Who are you?" Rob said, his voice quivering with fear.
"Don't you remember?" I asked, smiling maniacally at him. I held out my two hands to my face, and clapped.
Terror flashed in his eyes. He tried to speak, but he seemed to be choking on word he could not comprehend.
He begen bawling, and mucus spilled down his neck, a pleading yet pathetic look.
"Hide behind a wall of threat, but alone, you are just a coward." I spited him, and kicked him hard in the face. My words echoed about the room, and he cowered in front of me, covering his sight from me with his hands, the only defence he had against me.
"Please... spare me... I'm.. I'm sorry," he pleaded between sobs and sniffs.
"Its too late," I said.
Suddenly he let out a shout, and I knew it was a trap. I immediately lunged at him and pinned him to the floor, he tried to call for help; he was buying all time all this while.
"YOU BASTARD!" I swore in his ear, almost like a whisper. He struggled against me, twisting and turning, but I was too strong. He was choking on his breath, I had him in my tight grip. Then his muscles relaxed, and he crumbled to the floor, unconscious.
-
I woke up with an aching pain on my face. Somehow everything felt like a dream, yet it wasn't at all, I was tied and bounded to a chair in my own room. There he was, the maniac that did this to me, standing in that dark corner glaring at me with fiery eyes. I tried to yell out, but my mouth was gagged, I was completely subdued. The maniac must have saw me conscious, as he walked towards me with menacing footsteps. He peered at my face closely, close enough for me to punch him, but yet I couldn't.
"Weak," he laughed, and he clapped at my face once more in a sickening manner.
"You do love doing that don't you?" he asked maliciously.
I shook my head violently, mumbling for him not to hurt me. I didn't mean it. It was just a joke. A harmless little taunt. Somehow I was sweating something fierce, as my soaked and sticky pyjamas was clinged to my skin.
The maniac yanked up my hair, and placed something around my neck. I tried to see what it was, but in the darkness I could barely see anything, just two terrible eyes and a threatening shape of a figure.
The maniac unbounded my mouth, and my first instinct was to yell, but fearing another knock out, I kept my mouth shut.
"Tell me Rob, do you regret what you did?" the maniac asked.
"What kind of question is that, you sickening bastard?" I retorted.
The maniac slapped me hard across the face. I began tearing again.
"OK, OK, I regret what I did. Please, let me go," I begged, knowing fully well that my attempt was to no avail. I was just buying time to get an opportunity to escape.
"I'm sorry, you have to die." the maniac said calmly, as if he was really apologising to me for a mistake he did.
"Please, I'll do anything... Anything!" I cried out, my throat was feeling dry and my breathing became heavy. I did not want to die. I do not want to die. Please don't kill me. Please.
The maniac did not say anything. Instead, he carried me along with the chair towards the window. For someone I thought a weakling, he was stronger than he looked.
"What are you doing?" I yelped.
"You'll find out," he grunted.
He held me at the window edge, and suddenly everything became clear to me. The thing around my neck, it was a -
-
I threw him out of the window with sick satisfaction, and he fell, screaming bloody murder. But it was not over. The noose around his neck was tied to the tree outside, and before he landed, the tree branch shuddered. I climbed back up to the roof, observing the outcome of my work. There Rob was, hung up on a tree lifelessly, with the chair hanging loosely on him. I smiled sickeningly, as I crept down his house and up the tree. There he was, his body swinging left to right like a disgusting parody of a pendulum. I stared down at his ungazing eyes, and laughed maniacally.
Clapping thrice at his contorted face which was still filled with anguish, I leapt down from the tree, feeling more than satisfied with myself. He would not be haunting me, or anyone, anymore.
-
He deserved it. I swear he did. Nobody can get away for what they did to me. Nobody.
There he was, I saw him. Just a few hours ago at school he taunted me as I walked pass his gang, clapping at my face as if daring me to retort back. This time, he was going to pay. There he was, lying in his bedroom sound asleep, little did he know he was being watched. He was alone this time; no gang members to protect him, no more hiding behind a shield of bigger sized bullies.
I reached out my hand and unlocked the window latch. The window gave a squeak. I froze instantly at my position, determined not to give away my presence. He squirmed in his bed, and I waited with abated breath. He shifted his position, this time with his back facing me. It was then I was sure he dismissed the squeak as an insignificant sound. This was my chance.
I squeezed through the window with fluid motion, and crept towards him silently. I stared at him with fury, and my heart was filled with malice. I wanted to tear him apart, to rip him into pieces. Suddenly he bolted straight up and looked around, fear gripping his spine. With an agile leap, I crawled under his bed.
"Who's there?" he cried, his voice shaking with terror.
"You will pay for what you've done, Rob." I roared, anger overwhelming me.
He must have heard where my voice came from, and in a matter of seconds he peered down under his bed. I instantly kicked at his face, and he yelled out in pain.
I was on my feet, and he dashed towards the door. I was too fast for him. Seeing that his only exit was blocked, he shifted back from me steadily, as I walked towards him menacingly.
"Who... Who are you?" Rob said, his voice quivering with fear.
"Don't you remember?" I asked, smiling maniacally at him. I held out my two hands to my face, and clapped.
Terror flashed in his eyes. He tried to speak, but he seemed to be choking on word he could not comprehend.
He begen bawling, and mucus spilled down his neck, a pleading yet pathetic look.
"Hide behind a wall of threat, but alone, you are just a coward." I spited him, and kicked him hard in the face. My words echoed about the room, and he cowered in front of me, covering his sight from me with his hands, the only defence he had against me.
"Please... spare me... I'm.. I'm sorry," he pleaded between sobs and sniffs.
"Its too late," I said.
Suddenly he let out a shout, and I knew it was a trap. I immediately lunged at him and pinned him to the floor, he tried to call for help; he was buying all time all this while.
"YOU BASTARD!" I swore in his ear, almost like a whisper. He struggled against me, twisting and turning, but I was too strong. He was choking on his breath, I had him in my tight grip. Then his muscles relaxed, and he crumbled to the floor, unconscious.
-
I woke up with an aching pain on my face. Somehow everything felt like a dream, yet it wasn't at all, I was tied and bounded to a chair in my own room. There he was, the maniac that did this to me, standing in that dark corner glaring at me with fiery eyes. I tried to yell out, but my mouth was gagged, I was completely subdued. The maniac must have saw me conscious, as he walked towards me with menacing footsteps. He peered at my face closely, close enough for me to punch him, but yet I couldn't.
"Weak," he laughed, and he clapped at my face once more in a sickening manner.
"You do love doing that don't you?" he asked maliciously.
I shook my head violently, mumbling for him not to hurt me. I didn't mean it. It was just a joke. A harmless little taunt. Somehow I was sweating something fierce, as my soaked and sticky pyjamas was clinged to my skin.
The maniac yanked up my hair, and placed something around my neck. I tried to see what it was, but in the darkness I could barely see anything, just two terrible eyes and a threatening shape of a figure.
The maniac unbounded my mouth, and my first instinct was to yell, but fearing another knock out, I kept my mouth shut.
"Tell me Rob, do you regret what you did?" the maniac asked.
"What kind of question is that, you sickening bastard?" I retorted.
The maniac slapped me hard across the face. I began tearing again.
"OK, OK, I regret what I did. Please, let me go," I begged, knowing fully well that my attempt was to no avail. I was just buying time to get an opportunity to escape.
"I'm sorry, you have to die." the maniac said calmly, as if he was really apologising to me for a mistake he did.
"Please, I'll do anything... Anything!" I cried out, my throat was feeling dry and my breathing became heavy. I did not want to die. I do not want to die. Please don't kill me. Please.
The maniac did not say anything. Instead, he carried me along with the chair towards the window. For someone I thought a weakling, he was stronger than he looked.
"What are you doing?" I yelped.
"You'll find out," he grunted.
He held me at the window edge, and suddenly everything became clear to me. The thing around my neck, it was a -
-
I threw him out of the window with sick satisfaction, and he fell, screaming bloody murder. But it was not over. The noose around his neck was tied to the tree outside, and before he landed, the tree branch shuddered. I climbed back up to the roof, observing the outcome of my work. There Rob was, hung up on a tree lifelessly, with the chair hanging loosely on him. I smiled sickeningly, as I crept down his house and up the tree. There he was, his body swinging left to right like a disgusting parody of a pendulum. I stared down at his ungazing eyes, and laughed maniacally.
Clapping thrice at his contorted face which was still filled with anguish, I leapt down from the tree, feeling more than satisfied with myself. He would not be haunting me, or anyone, anymore.
Friday, May 7, 2010
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