The Girl who was Never Loved

Sorry if it sucks. :) It's Part One of two or three. Depends on how long my short story will be. XD This is only part of the plot. ;D

Amira woke up to the sound of the children playing. Groggy, she ran her fingers through her jet black hair and walked to the circle attic window and stared at the kids having fun at the slides and the swings. The sun was setting in the horizon, the fading sunlight clashing with the black night sky. Her eyes snapped up. She was thirty minutes late. Staring at the wooden hatch, she cowered in a corner, fearing for what would enter from it. True enough, as if someone read her mind, the stone floor rumbled. Suddenly, the hatch flew open, surprising the little girl. The dim attic was filled with light, until a gigantic figure struggled to get through the square opening, temporarily blocking all light from coming through. Amira shuddered in fear as the figure stormed towards her. Two big hands clenched tightly around her neck and shook the fragile girl furiously. Her cheeks turned from rosy pink to a pale shade of blue as she suffocated in the woman’s grasp. In a desperate attempt, she grabbed her assailant’s burly arms and dug her nails into them. The giant writhed in pain as she let go of Amira’s throat. The little girl gasped for air as she staggered around.

Wham!

Something hard struck Amira’s bruised back, knocking her down onto the cold, hard floor. She lied on the ground. The woman walked towards the girl, and crouched until her lips were close to Amira’s ears. “Amira, where’s my dinner?” Athirah cooed in her daughter’s ear. The little girl flinched as she felt her mother’s hot breath on her neck. The odourless attic air made way, and vodka and cheap perfume penetrated her nose. The fat woman stomped on Amira’s leg, causing her to scream in pain. “How dare you forget about my dinner!?” Athirah shouted. “I endured pain for nine months. We gave you shelter, we gave you food. This is how you repay us!?” Amira stayed silent. She knew replying would only infuriate her mother more. Athirah raised her fist in the air, itching to thrash the little girl.

“Athirah!” A low baritone voice boomed from below. “Don’t waste your energy on that wretched thing, love. Bring her to me.” The woman’s fist hung in the air, trembling softly in hesitation. She contemplated on the consequences, before letting out a sigh of frustration. She muttered something incoherent under her breath and shoved the little girl towards the hatch. “You heard your father. Get down there!”

Hassan and his wife were well known in the neighborhood for their short fused temper, their bad mouthed attitude. But what the people did not know was the two were not the only ones living in the residence. He had kept a dark secret from the whole world for fourteen years, two months, five days and ten hours, not that he was keeping count. He made sure it never left the house. That dark secret now was standing meekly in front of him, staring down at the marble floor. Her hazel eyes dared not meet her father’s steely gaze. “Look at me, Amira.” He ordered. Her eyes reluctantly looked up. “You’re a piece of trash.” He spat out. “You’re ugly, you’re idiotic, and you don’t deserve to be loved! Not that anyone does. You should be grateful we kept you!” She winced as the words that were repeated to her all her life pierced her heart once more. She fought back the tears that welled up in her eyes. He gazed at the girl keeping her emotions from spilling out in front of him. She has the same eyes as her mother, he thought. Pity the rest of her is useless. Hassan yanked her closer and stared deep into her eyes. “I’m going to give you one last chance.” He threatened the little girl. “You mess up one more time; I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

What kind of parents would kill their daughter without a second thought? A flurry of emotions came over Amira. She wailed silently in the dull grey attic, her home for the last fourteen years. Sadness overwhelmed her as she remembered her father’s words. Was it true, she thought? Am I hated by everybody? Am I ugly? Am I an idiot? Crystal tears rolled down her cheeks. She stared at the round window sill, overlooking the vast park and the starry night sky. Her eyes then moved to the wooden hatch. She yearned for freedom. How she wanted to feel the fresh autumn breeze through her long hair, against her skin. How she wanted to run on the bright green grass, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun beating down on her. How she wanted to experience the things that were kept from her for fourteen years. Suddenly, a new feeling washed over her.

Anger. All her wrath, her fury had been contained for all these years. She could no longer compress her growing emotion from spilling out like a volcano. They have done too much to get away with this. A mischievous smile appeared on her face. She would make them suffer. “Amira!” A shrill voice screamed. “Get down here! Make us coffee!” Malice glinted in her hazel eyes. Such a chance should not be wasted.

Athirah and Hassan snatched the cups of coffee from Amira’s hands. Not a word of thanks escaped their purple lips. “Now get out of my sight! I’m sick of seeing garbage in front of me!” Athirah sneered. Amira nodded meekly, and shuffled her way quietly to the stairs. A crash was heard behind her, and she stopped abruptly, her right foot hanging in the air. She craned her neck to see what happened, her lips curled into a malicious grin. Hassan was on the floor, his hand clenching his throat. He shook lightly, before his whole body limped. His grip loosened, and his hands fell to the floor. “Hassan!” Athirah screamed frantically. “Darling, what happened?” She ran to him, checking for signs of life. No pulse. Her beady eyes locked on to Amira. “What did you do to him?”

If looks could kill, Amira’s would shred her mother into little pieces and fed it to the hungry pigeons. Her eyes widened in fear, as she saw something different in her daughter’s hazel eyes. There was no longer fear in those eyes. Fury and anger had replaced it. Seeing her fiery gaze made her hard to breath. In fact, she realised, she was really suffocating. Athirah gasped for air. “What did you do to us?” She asked frantically. A thin smile appeared on Amira’s face. “Nothing,” She replied, feigning innocence. “I only added a little something in the coffee to make it sweeter.” She held up a small black vial, with a word that Athirah recognised so well. “Poison.” Her eyes widened. Unlike her husband, who gulped the drink in one go, she was the type to savor the taste. She stole a sideways glance at her porcelain cup. It was half- full. Before she knew it, she collapsed to the floor. The poison was starting to take effect. It was then she noticed two things; The leather sling bag on Amira’s shoulder, and a giant container beside her feet. Petrol. “What are you going to do?” Her face grew pale. Amira broke into a maniacal laughter. “Oh mother, you’re so funny. You ask so many daft, obvious questions.” She said. She walked closer to the collapsed Athirah, her face inches away from her mother’s. “I’m going to burn down this hellhole, of course, along with the bitter memories that came with it.”

Athirah tried to scream for help, but her throat burned. She could not move as Amira splashed the petrol all over the furniture, all over Hassan’s body, all over her body. She could not breathe as the fire burned the last of the air that still lingered in the house. All she could do was beg for forgiveness from God as the flames engulfed her whole.

Amira watched as the fire swallowed the houses. The redness of the flickering flames collided with the dark night sky. It was over. The days of her abusive past had ended, making way for the bright future paved ahead of her. She twirled happily on the lawn as the flames danced along with her.

She was free.

Santa

I know this is a bit off season, with it all being the end of August and start of Eid. This is actually my August test story. I liked it, and so did my teacher, so she asked me to type it for her. Forgive me if you think the story's not-so-great. I had only two hours to write this story, excluding the 15-minute period of which I went blank. XD

Enjoy. :)

The knocking on the door was getting louder and louder, each thump piercing Adam’s heart with fear. He cowered in his bed sheet, his hand clenching a dead phone as if it would protect him from the monster. All the boy could do was cry helplessly, and hope that the mahogany door would last through the night. The knocking stopped abruptly, filling the room with a chilling silence, and Adam with hope. The victory was short lived. A horrendous laugh came from outside, causing Adam to flinch. ‘Don’t think locking the door would stop me, little boy!’ The monster screamed. ‘After I’m through with you, I’ll have your parents for lunch!’ It then continued knocking on the door. Adam wailed, thinking of his parents. Mummy, Daddy, where are you???

*****

What kind of parents would leave their child at home?

Adam sighed heavily, wondering when Mummy and Daddy would come back home. ‘‘We’re just going to the supermarket, dear,’’ he muttered under his breath, imitating his mother’s high-pitched voice perfectly. ‘‘We’ll be back before you can say ‘Rainbows and unicorns’.’’ Haha, very funny. He’d lost count of the times he said that phrase. Only after the 234^th time did he realize it would not work. Mummy will about to find out the consequences of keeping an eleven year old waiting. ‘Let’s just hope the fire department isn’t busy tonight.’ he snickered in loathsome delight. He got up from the sofa, and ran towards the kitchen, searching for the box of matches Mummy hid from him.

Then a sudden train of thoughts stopped him in his tracks. ‘Wait a minute…’ Adam said. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s going to be Christmas in a few days’ time. I don’t want to get into Santa’s naughty list.’

Adam’s face lit up. He realized what was taking his parents so long. ‘They’re buying me Christmas presents!’ They probably bought too much to fit it all in the van so-

Ringggg.

Adam looked at the door. Who could it be? No one usually visits at this time of night.

Ringggg.

Cautiously, he tiptoed to the window and looked outside to see who the visitor was. His eyes widened in shock. The stranger’s silhouette was big, bigger than the door. And it was in a shade of red. Blood red. The hair at the back of Adam’s neck stood up. He would have ran away and let him ring the doorbell a few more times, but he could not help feeling he was someone familiar. It’s Christmas, surely somebody big and red would…

Adam put two and two together.

He screamed in delight, flung the door open, and leaped at the enormous figure. ‘It’s really you, Santa!’ Adam squealed. He tried to hug Santa, but failed to completely get his arms around the visitor. Adam let his eyes wander up and down. He felt there was something wrong. Santa’s eyes were covered by his red hat, and his face was mostly covered by snow white beard. What was out of place was his pale blue skin, which can be seen by his pointy, impish ears and his rough hands. The most peculiar thing was his long, beaky nose, which looked as if somebody stuck a cone on his face and painted it blue. After a while, Adam shrugged. ‘Oh well,’ He reached out a hand to the towering figure. ‘Santa’s still Santa. You’re a bit early. Going out for dinner, aren’t you?’ The little boy chuckled. Santa shook Adam’s tiny hand. Silence filled the atmosphere. Adam started to feel nervous and contemplated on shutting the door, when Santa replied, ‘… Yes, I was thinking of taking you for dinner, since your parents aren’t around.’ He lifted the boy with his hands. Adam broke into a grin. ‘Really? Are we going to the North Pole? Am I going to see the elves?’

“You’re going to be such a splendid addition of my Christmas Eve’s broth.’

Adam stopped. He grew pale. He tried to wriggle out of Santa’s grasp, but to no avail. The monster’s grip tightened, his yellow claws digging into the boy’s skin. He started to suffocate, and in a desperate attempt to escape, kicked Santa’s head when he smelled the boy, knocking off the red, fluffy hat. Both stumbled on the ground, and Adam could finally see what was concealed beneath the hat. A pair of flashing red eyes glared at him as he shut the door on Santa.

He dashed upstairs as the front door fell down and the wall crumbled by the gigantic being’s entrance. Santa gave a loud, terrifying roar, which can be heard throughout the neighborhood. And then he began his search for the boy.

*****

Half an hour passed, and Adam was sure the whole house was wrecked, except his own room. And there Santa was, at the other side of the mahogany door, deliberately pounding on the door loudly to instill fear in the little boy. He knocked four more times before stopping. A long silence filled the cold air, before Adam broke it by letting out a sigh of relief. He wiped the tears that ran down his cheek and got out of his bed.

A cold, pale sapphire hand stretched out from under the bed and grabbed his feet. ‘Where do you think you’re going, boy?’ Santa growled menacingly. ‘Dinner’s almost ready…’ And as Adam was pulled under the bed, the last thing he could see was a pair of red eyes glinting in the dark.

A Poem for a BLated BDay Friend

Hello there, people. Welcome~ :D This place is dedicated for my other works that I'd like to share. Even though it's gonna be crappy. ._______. Never thought my first post here will be 'bout a friend. So here it is. Let's just hope she won't find it. XD

A Message to A Friend

Wei Ying, Wei Ying,
you're so mature,
you're sarcastic, you're lovely,
your heart is pure

I bid you congrats,
you're 16 this year,
tried to find the perfect present,
but failed to, I fear

So I forgot to buy a gift,
go ahead and slap me,
but I'll promise to buy one,
just you wait and see

I'd like to thank you,
for being my friend,
And I hope this friendship lasts,
lasts until the very end

I know, it sucks, right? Oh well, it's from the bottom of my heart. :D