ace of clover

part 1 – kidding

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The abstract form in front of me frowned and gave out a ‘ckckck’ sound, making me want to throw anything at it. But sadly, I couldn’t – because it was abstract and all I would gain was the poor thing I threw to it just hit the wall.

“I’m serious here, child,” it said in monotone. “I give you three wishes here, and all I have got are wide-eyed, a glass is thrown at me, and you have got to be kidding me sentence.”

I stared at it blankly. “What do you think I am? A child with supernatural beliefs?” I responded dryly,

“All children would be in awe,” it snapped, and I just rolled my eyes in response.

“Doesn’t mean all children should include me.” A lot of people told me that I was too mature for my age – eight, mind you. Yes, I was mature because I didn’t grow in a lovey-dovey place with loving parents, mischief siblings, even a family. From I was a baby till now, a big eight years old, I never felt love, I grew up in streets where a law stated the strongest will stay alive and the weakest will die.

It put a finger on its chin, gesturing that it was thinking. “I guess… you are right,” it muttered. “So it should be most of children, right?”

“Go away.” I snapped in annoyance. “Go find another child to tell your ‘I give you three wishes’ things.”

And a thing that I never imagined before happened. It pouted – freaking pouted like a child that didn’t get a candy.

“Nah, I guess I’ll stick with you until you believe I truly give you three wishes.”

I face-palmed, thinking what this thing would be done to me in later days.


part 2 – laughing out loud

What does lol stand for

I stared at my smartphone blankly, and typed a reply.

… what

The reply came faster than I could think.

just freaking tell me what lol stands for

Seriously? Of all good things in the world, he – the smartest person I had known – didn’t know what the hell lol stands for?!

After a few seconds thinking, I grinned. Yes, my mom told me that I should never make fun of people, but this was too fun to be passed, dammit!

Silently apologizing to my mom because I ignored her advice, I typed faster than the speed of light.

you don’t know? really? i expect you higher, mr. i-am-genius-than-you-thanks

It took a few minutes for him to reply my message. Apparently his pride was hurting because of it. Thinking of this, I didn’t realize my face held an evil smirk now.

i should never ask you about this, i’m regretting my decision.

Licking my upper lip, I smirked.

you ought to be

My finger stopped at enter button. From his message, he seemed like desperate right now.

Sometimes I really hated myself for being soft-hearted person.

and lol stands for laughing out loud, for your information.


part 3 – first

In front of me, sitting proudly a stack of paper contained my first ever story. The paper is full of dust because I placed it nonchalantly – in a warehouse – for safety purpose.

It has been so long…

I still remember the first time I wrote it. Yes, at that time I always hid at the trunk of a car owned by my family when writing a story. Too shy to show it to other people and too afraid to be judged – sadly these treats are still in me till now.

First story of mine is about Naruto fan fiction. Akatsuki especially.

My writing was so damn awful at that moment. But still…

I smile then lift up the stack. I’ll read this later, after dealing with this awful warehouse.


yes, yes, sorry for absent too long ;A; i missed so damn much challenges and to make it up, i wrote this. to tell the truth, i got stuck at the third part because i had no idea, but yeah. that’s it.

anyways, pardon me for grammatical mistakes.

 

rain, rain, go away

rain, rain, go away–
(pretty white clouds she saw earlier were now changed to dark, stormy, nasty black clouds, blew by bad, bad, bad north-east wind.)


You limped, your gaze clouded by fog from nowhere.

One, two, three–stumbled.


 

come again some other day
(blue, blue bright, wonderful sky which used to contain hopes, loves, dreams–)


 

What is it?

You blinked, trying so hard to focus your gaze to search what made you stumbled before–and lied on the earth by face.


little johnny wants to play
(–now it was empty.)


It turned out into a worn-out, dirty, and ragged white beach towel. Its color was like your fur’s–it used to be white, pure beautiful white. But due to world’s harshness, it changed into a dull one.

in the meadow by the hay
(there was no hope anymore but frustration and darkness.)

Such a pity.

You tried to smile, but what you managed to make was a grimace.


rain, rain, go to spain
(no smiles, no laughters, no happiness–)


To the world you were one of unlucky kittens which was abandoned by heartless people. To the world, you were such an useless animal, knew nothing except to mewl.

The world was harsh.

But you had to be strong, strong to live. Or else, you would die.

And you didn’t want it to happen. Not yet before you found your mother, people who threw you away… heartless people who separated you from your mother.

never show your face again
(but cries in agony and disappointment.)

You curled yourself in the worn-out towel. At least, you had a thing to warm yourself, which was enough for now.

Lifting up your face to see the gloomy sky, you saw that it understood your feelings, for it was raining now.

But for you, it looked like the sky pitying you for your fate.


rain, rain, pour down
(however, you had to know–)


You turned your face. None should be pitying for your fate. None even the sky. The sky supposed to be bright and contained happiness and hopes and loves.

A droplet of rains fell upon your dirty yet warm towel. You counted it; one, two, three, four…

Your once beautiful yet unusual violet eyes began to close slowly.

Will I die here?


but not a drop on our town
(–that after the rain–)


“Uwaaa~! Look at the poor kitten at there, Flee!”

“… you know that I don’t like kittens, so shut up.”

“Nyaaaah! Flee, you are such a cruel bastard!”

“Shut up.”

You blinked when you felt you were lifted up by a person.

“Should we bring it home?”

“No.”

Your violet eyes saw the person who lifted you up pouting when she heard the answer given by a person she called Flee earlier.

“Give it a bowl of warm soup?”

“Absolutely no.”

“Fleee!” She pouted and looked at you, blinking in curiosity when she saw the color of your eyes. “Say, Flee, do you know a kitten that has a pair of violet eyes?”

“… no?” Flee answered. “Why?”

“This kitten has!”


rain, rain, go away
(–there will be a rainbow.)


this is meant to be an angst story, i swear for the love of my teddy bear! but it turns into failure orz orz orz

anyways! sorry for awol for a few days xd

telepathy

“I hate you,” yet I love you.

“So do I,” I know.

“Now, go away,” don’t you should feel disgusted?

“No. It looks like my presence in here brigtens the mood,” why should I?

“I detest you,” there are many things that should make you feel disgusted to me.

“Have I said I detest you more than you do?” cheer up for i don’t feel disgusted to you!

“I think no,” I know, thank you.

“So let that graze in your mind,” you are welcome.


another random post to update this blog. no i’m not okay. bye

cheers,
fleur // june 30th, 2014

 

let’s moving forward

Sometimes I wish I’d never born.

Althea laughed bitterly when thinking about this. Yes, I wonder what’ll the world do without me – nothing, maybe. Because I’m such a trash, she thought, kicking some pebbles – to satisfy her heart because the best thing to do without hurting your friends when you were at your limit was to shed your pique, vexation, exacerbation on unliving things. Yes, it was the best thing to do.

The last time she shed her angriness to a living things – to Astrild – resulted the friendship between her and Astrild cracked. Fortunately Astrild wasn’t egoistical – no, Althea was the egoistical one – and she saved their precious five-years friendship.

Now, Althea didn’t want such a silly reason to crack her friendship again – once was enough. She had learnt her lesson – never ever shed your bitter side of emotion on human. Newton’s Third Law stated that if there was an action, there’d be a reaction. Althea gave bad action, and the reaction was same.

She looked up at the sky. The night sky was always peaceful, never judged her; the moon and the stars were the best listener she’d ever got. They were quiet to let her talk until she couldn’t mutter a single word anymore, they were quiet when the tears rolled down to her face, dropped at the ground. Didn’t mutter any comment, just silence. Yet, Althea always thought it was the best thing, at least she had the moon and the stars to listen her.

However, she couldn’t deny that somewhere at the bottom of her heart, she wished that she could be heard by human, a person, not just the moon and the stars. Sometimes she’d get bored to talk and what she got was no response. She needed that. To rant about her life to a person, to cry, to let out all her emotion… and get at least a response. Even though what she’d got was everything’s gonna be okay, just keep patient.

Althea sighed out loudly. The moon wasn’t at the top of her head anymore, but it slowly but surely sink down at the horizon. The stars were getting invisible too. Part of her heart was screaming to the sun to just wait longer because i wasn’t ready to face the morning but another part was saying quietly that she needs another fresh new morning to start over her life again – to get the real happiness she’d always been dreaming of.

She pressed her lips together, to make a thin smile. A new fresh morning sounded like the best idea. Maybe that was what she needed. Letting go of the past and facing the future with a bright smile.

Because, you couldn’t dwell on past forever, right?


for this nice challenge.

signed with lots of love,
fleur // june 27th, 2014.

 

labyrinth of timberland, sort of

– complexion of white canvas collection –
{ labyrinth of timberland, sort of }


The moon shone at the best, its full circle adorned the cobalt sky, along with sowings of stars. Nevertheless, their lights couldn’t hide the mystical and enigmatic side of the night contained. Night animals – or we could say in here; beasts – howled, filling the silent yet tense night with their unique sounds.

Yet, it seemed that they couldn’t gain a single effect to a certain person.

“I don’t know why you all are wasting your time with dragging me here.” Fleur frowned, arms crossing in front of her chest. She clearly showed irritation to a group of people who brought her in a forest at the suburbs instead of a nice red building that she called as her own house.

“But, Fleur! You don’t afraid of ghosts, supernatural things, insects, even cockroaches!” Gabriella complained. She was a member of the group that brought – or in the victim’s word: dragged – Fleur here. Beside her, Gilbert – her twin – elbowed his sister’s rather painfully, mouthing something like ‘don’t tell her!’.

They both received an eerie glare from Fleur.

“You hauled me from Grace’s party, claiming to bring me home but in fact you two had a ‘plan’,” she made quotation marks with her index and middle finger, “and brought me here to know my fears.”

Gilbert saw no chance to tell a lie, so he sighed heavily then nodded. “More or less like that,” he answered, while hoping that Fleur could drop her mortifying glare just now because he began to sweat in fear. Gabriella looked like she saw a monster right now – because Fleur in scary mode wasn’t the best thing to be seen in a creepy forest.

Five seconds – seemed like a century for the twins – later, Fleur rolled her eyes and lowered the frequency of her glare. She strolled past two of them, stopped about five steps from them. With the mysterious tone, she said to Gilbert and Gabriella. “The annular eclipse – I hate the most hence its shine hurt oculus. Gravity called and then it closed not by its own will, but as the punishment. I shall not dwell in dreams but face the reality, the world where gravity exists and everything has its own formula. This is all I can tell thee.”

The twins turned around instantly. Even though Fleur couldn’t see them, she could swear that they eyed her with bewilderment. “Good luck with that.” She finally whispered quite loud to be heard by them, and left.


i’m more straight-forward but, yeah. forgive me for making such a senseless riddle – but i assure you, it has meanings. i tried to make it in old english, however i’m suck. i became lazy to do it near the end so, i just changed ‘you’ to ‘thee’.

memoirs xvi of capital w

for daily prompt and writing 101. im too lazy to do make one post for each, so i combine it, and here’s the result. 


and you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
 or the moment of truth in your lies


I’m originally not a person who likes to brag over something. But, sometimes I give my pride a moment to express its desirability to be shown. I’m not often to give it, because every time I do it something bad would happen. Like the bible said; for all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

Anyways, ignore those two sentences on the top. It really has no business with this post; I just like the lyrics so much so I put it there. It’s from Iris song. I have only a song sung by Sleeping with Sirens. I highly recommend you that, it’s good.

Ah, where were we? Sorry, I got a little distracted earlier. Right. Here you all go.


ii.

memoirs xiv
sugar-loaf, tenderness and memory of childhood—


When I was not-too-little, approximately six or seven, still pure and innocent and as awesome as always—right, sorry for the narcissism—I always went to a bakery next to my elemantry school. It sold many kinds of bread, from mozzarella sandwich, club sandwich, crouton, brown bread, bun, sugar-loaf, hot dog, milk bread, etc. I always bought sugar-loaf, in case if you want to know. Hey, kids like sweet, right? The sugar-loaf was always tasty, and I ended up buying it nearly every day—spending much of my pocket money. It lasted for many years until I graduated from elementary.

The bakery is still there—next to my alma mater. The sugar-loaf is as good as always, and I am remembered by the bakery’s employees, being the faithful consumer for nearly half a decade. As I’m growing up, get older and have to continue my education—which is unfortunately getting further and further from the bakery—I rarely visit that place now. But still, that place is a part of my childhood, the bakery of sugar-loaf and memories of childhood.


i.

capital w
—where everything’s meant to be started again—


“What do you mean about this ‘capital w’?” Fineena peered over my shoulder, so did Alex—her six-months boyfriend. I inverted my head so fast I could even break my neck.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, hurriedly minimized the Microsoft Word I had been using for hours. “Sneaking to my house, eh? When did you consider changing your occupation from astronaut to burglar?”

Fineena huffed, her expression rather hurt because accused to be a burglar. And I suddenly felt guilty. “I did ring the bell many times but you didn’t answer it. I checked the door and found it unlocked, so I entered with Alex.” She explained, and then looked at Alex. “Right, Al?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. It seems like you are rather absorbed in ‘what-you-are-working-in-your-laptop-now’.” He added after a while.

I sighed. “Alright, sorry, okay? As you said before, I’m rather absorbed in things I’m working in my laptop now. I’d prefer you two don’t disturb me, anyways.” I said, “you can wait in the living room while I prepare drinks for you two.” I got up and made a beeline to kitchen, but Fineena stopped me.

“No, no. We are here for a while, no worries, Flee.” She said cheerfully. “Just sit, and talk.”

I shrugged. “If that’s what you want.” Then I sat down again, looking at the two suspiciously. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Do you have something you can be proud of?” Fineena said quickly. I looked at them, bewildered, because what kind of question is that?

So, I did what a normal person would do. “What?”

Fineena rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you hear the question? Do you have something or anything you can be proud of?” She repeated once again. She held a paper and a pen—where the heck did she get it? I was sure there was no pen nor paper in this room, and neither she nor Alex showed any signal that she brought that—and stared at me seriously. Suddenly I was getting impression that they were interrogator and I was accused to commit a crime.

This is creepy, I thought. “Well, there’s something I can be proud of.” I replied. Fineena raised her eyebrow, and making a silent question ‘what-is-that?’

“I’m quite proud that I’m thin and not easily gain a weight. So I don’t have to worry about diet and things like that.” I answered nonchalantly then returned my focus to the things I had been working for hours and ignored both Fineena and Alex who face palmed.

i’m in the static –

because: a) i’m in love with this song and b) the prompt sounds cool.


“i’m in the static, i’m an addict.” – hopeful romantic, this century.


“I’m absolutely fed up.”

Stella raised her eyebrow elegantly—everyone had been wondering how she did it—while drifting her gaze from the fashion magazine she read to look at her brother. “And why are you fed up?” She asked, then looked back and flipping the page of the magazine.

“Everyone in school has been starting to say ‘static’!” He said in exasperation, quoting the word ‘static’. “It’s my word, y’know!”

His sister deadpanned at him. “Last time I checked dictionary, static does in that, you know. So technically it is not your word.” She replied nonchalantly. When her brother didn’t reply, she lifted her face up and looked him. “What’s wrong?”

Dan—who was buried his face in his palms—sighed. “Sis, do you know how many years have I used that word?” He asked, his sentence was rather muffled because he didn’t want to lift up his face from his palms. “Do you know how many words I’ve created by using the word ‘static’?”

“Let’s see.” Stella said. “You always say ‘I’m in the static’ when you’re happy, then ‘my static’s kinda drop right now’ for moping mood—”

“I’m not moping,” Dan interjected. Stella shot him an ‘are-you-sure?’ look then when she noticed there was no respond from her brother, she continued.

“You also modified some greetings like; good morning to ‘shining static greeting’, good afternoon ‘yellow-ish static’ and kind of weird stuffs,” She paused, “which is getting weirder time by time, in case if you don’t know.”

“Hey! I modified it more awesome, y’know?” He objected. “Shining static greeting is when I was ten. Now, the greeting’s changed to static’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Stella swayed her hand, “but it still is weird. Odd. Peculiar. Queer. Strange.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for supplying my vocabulary,”

“That’s what older sisters are for.”

Stella grinned when she saw Dan twitched. She knew that Dan was really… touchy when it came to their birth—since they were twins. Dan, being the one who had pride too high, always proclaimed that he was older brother to Stella. That was until their mother said that Stella was the older one.

As mentioned before, Dan had too much pride and being the man and blah-blah-blah, he never acknowledged it. He often twitched when she mentioned about it until now, much to Stella’s amusement.

“Do not mention it.” He said pointedly, but Stella just put her tongue out.

“Make me.” She challenged, smirking rather priggishly. She put the long-abandoned magazine from her lap to the wooden table in front of her and crossed her arms.

Dan smirked. “Alright.” He rose from his seat. For a moment she thought he’d do what she suggested him indirectly. Instead, he made a beeline to the place where Stella kept her magazine. He took two or three and showed them to Stella. This activity made Stella’s brow shot up.

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, bewildered. This question answered after Dan showed her a lighter. Her eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t dare.” She growled.

“Oh, I dare,” Dan said cheekily. Then he ignited.

“DAN!”


“and you’ve got to know.”


i nearly type a kissing scene. a kissing freaking scene! /goes hysterically/ but, well! i decided not to. but i put a lil bit of incest there. my deepest apologies if you’re not comfortable with that kind of relationship. /bows down/ anyways! give me a high-five for succeeding to keep myself! yeah!


“Anyway,” Dan said suddenly, “I still don’t accept that whole static virus in my school.”

Stella stared at him grumpily, didn’t say anything. She still mad at him because he burnt her magazine. It was lucky that he decided just to burn one instead of three. But, unfortunately, it happened to be Stella’s most favorite magazine.

“What’s with that luck, dear sister?” He asked cheekily. Stella huffed in exasperation then forced herself to focus to the magazine on her lap.

After a few minutes, she gave up and stared at him with the piercing look of hers. “Static sounds stupid. Abso-bloody-lutelly stupid.”


“hopeful romantic, hope-ful rom-an-tic.”