[FanFiction] A Walk To Remember: Epilogue

A/N: After reading 'A walk To Remember' I desperately wanted to know what had happened at the end, or, at Jamie's end, to be exact. I had watched the movie a very long time ago that I can't recall how the ending was so I made one up.

The book ended with these lines:

It is now forty years later, and I can still remember everything from that day. I may be older and wiser, I may have lived another life since then, but I know that when my time eventually comes, the memories of that day will be the final images that float through my mind. I still love her, you see, and I've never removed my ring. In all these years I've never felt the desire to do so.

I breathe deeply, taking in the fresh spring air. Though Beaufort has changed, the air itself has not. It's still in the air of my childhood, the air of my seventeenth year, and when I finally exhale, I'm fifty-seven once more. But this is okay. I smile slightly, looking toward the sky, knowing there's one thing I still haven't told you: I now believe, by the way, that miracles can happen.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or the main plot. They're Sparks' as featured in the original work of 'A Walk To Remember', the novel and later, the movie. This is merely a fan-made fiction based on the book: My perception of the ending.

A Walk To Remember
FanFiction: Epilogue

Landon Carter
I'd be lying if I said that memories of that particular day doesn't come back chasing me. You see, after all these years, I still remember the first and last love of my life: Jamie. As I also remember the day when I flipped open the yearbook, looking for a candidate to ask for the homecoming dance and wonder: What if I had chosen someone else? Would I have never gotten to know her?

After she passed away, I couldn't keep myself from blaming and regretting both at the same time. Blaming myself for not noticing the reason behind the spirit and the beautiful smiles Jamie used to spread wherever she went. I thought her good heartedness was over-rated that I didn't fathom it.

The regret part then comes in for not spending the remaining moments of her life with her before our marriage: Of course, I couldn't, with Hegbert breathing down my neck even after our love for each other was no secret. I regret the days I wasted in trying to get rid of her and the fact that I always hated to have to make the 'right thing' around her.

She was a thief, a sweet and angelic one at that who stole away my bad behaviours, thoughts and misconceptions about everything. Without her, I wouldn't have forgiven my father and moved on to focus on starting all over again which I didn't think I'd be able to.

Jamie made me fall in love and know the incredible meaning of it. Love is, I learned, when you prefer to live the rest of your life with your beloved, in good and bad times.

Watching her suffer because of Leukemia on her final days on bed broke my heart every time I had looked at her; pale-faced, sleepy-eyed yet the stunning smile never failed to linger there, no matter what. The realization of having no power to protect her of the pain made me weak to the point that I'd sink in my chair, wishing I was the one in bed instead. But when I had gone through the Bible she gave me, I'd suddenly recall her words about the Lord's Plan.

The day she walked through the aisle, against our protests, to meet me right there on the altar, I saw the angel again. Jamie was wearing the same white dress she wore at the Playhouse and I couldn't have been more grateful. That day, when I first caught a glimpse of her behind the curtains I knew I was in love as I did at our wedding night. The wedding, she told me later, was just like her dream.

As surreal as the wedding was for her, the day Jamie passed away was the most painstaking day ever, for both of us, but I am sure for me, the most.

I took a nap that day and out of habit, woke up an hour and a half later to check on Jamie. As I turned around to face her, she was staring blankly at the ceiling, as if she'd never seen it there before. I let my hand rest on hers and she gave me a little squeeze while turning her head to face me.

'What are you thinking?' I asked.

'Of us' she answered breathlessly 'of you', she added.

Pulling myself up, I squeezed next to her and gently took the weight of her body onto my chest. Taking a strand of her hair in my finger, I said 'I love you, do you know that?' She rested her head near to my heart and I wanted the moment to last for eternity.

'I think it's time', she whispered soundlessly that I thought I'd imagined it.

With that, my tears started rolling down my cheeks and falling right into her milky-brown hair. She slowly raised her head to look at me up-side down and kissing her forehead, I wiped away my tears with the hem of my sleeves and helped her lay on the bed once more.

Smiling faintly at me, 'I love you more' she breathed for the last time.

There are certain moments when you feel like you're in space, and after a while, the oxygen which is keeping you alive cuts down. When life was sucked out of Jamie, it did for me, at the same time.

What Keeps Me Going...

With days passing by so fast, my writer's block keep occurring more often. I'd be clueless on what to write about for my column and on every Sunday night, I switch on my laptop and place my fingers on the keyboard, waiting for some miracle to happen and hit me with ideas.

Last night, while my Dad and I were cutting and pasting his own articles and placing them in a portfolio, this mini conversation happened:

Dad: What day is it tomorrow? Saturday?
Me: No, it's Sunday.
Dad: Okay.
Me: Why?
Dad: You haven't written your article yet.

I should have known, one way or the other, that he'd bring it up even though I had repeatedly asked him not to.

While I was browsing through his articles that dated back to 2003, I'd noticed how, over the years, the papers have turned to yellow-ish brown. He'd had 2 pages full of his coverage on a specific event and I had asked him if he really did all of that in one day. He'd said yes: He'd attend an event at night and would come back home, note down the details, even if it meant staying up till mid-morning, because, he said, he is supposed to turn it in by the morning.

I wondered if I'd be capable of doing that when I'm reluctantly writing for my column before the day of submission it self. Dad showed me his column; it was full of interesting articles and plots, rich in meaning and vocabulary and I wondered if I could ever live up to his achievements.

If Dad, I decided, wasn't pressing me in about sitting down to write up something for my column over the past few months, I know for a fact that I'd become careless by the day and forget all about it. Keeping the fact of having asked him that it truly bugs me aside, I am happy to realize that this is exactly what keeps me going: Him.

Healing ~ Sami Yusuf

An ad in MBC (I guess) featured this nasheed by Sami Yusuf in Arabic that I absolutely loved and thought to share it;

قلب بين يدي قلب و بيد الله كل قلب

عين ترعى عينا، وعين الله ترعى

كلمة طيبة صدقة

تبسمك لأخيك صدقه

كل معروف صدقة

اللهم اشف شفاءً لا يغادر سقماً

Here's the English version of it.


In His Late Memory

March, 11th 09
'Why!' she continues screaming, her voice the only audible one above the others.

His children are done with cleaning him and now, they are taking him to his room, the one he used to sit in, with Oman TV switched on at all times. His body is covered with white linen passes across my eyes as I fight to shut my eyelids so that I won't see him like this. I just don't want to.

Some of them are walking in on him now, praying for him and sobbing. The women next to me watches me carefully as I let out my tears drop down my cheeks, not caring, I let them fall and as they do, I feel my heart sinking down to the floor. This isn't supposed to happen, I say inside my head.

'Let her be....'
'This is too hard for her…'
'Poor girl...'
'She can't....'

They think I can't hear their whispers but I can…and I am hearing them.

'Come with me….'
'This is your last chance….'

Her words echo through my ears and I finally make my decision and stand up. The woman who is a total stranger to me and who was hugging me moments ago so tightly let me go as I am standing up now and making my way to my mother across the crowd of weeping women.

My foot carried me till the final inches of his door. People are everywhere so as the tears and grief that are hanging in the air, wrapping all of us, especially his children who were brave enough to actually wash and watch his dead body.

I am here now and all my senses are numb. The next moment, my aunt holds me in a tight embrace and whispers in my ear 'Are you afraid, honey?' she says 'Don't be. It's just like he's sleeping'. And because I am a fool, I believe her and enter the room.

There he is, lying on the floor. Someone says 'kneel down and kiss him...'

'Go on now...'

But I can't. I am too weak to do that. Catching a glimpse of him there, I walk out quickly, thinking of how stupid I am to believe that he is sleeping. He is not, simply.

I go back to where I was before I made the bravest and stupidest decision in my life. I watch my brother, so tough that his face is the colour of bright red without any tears. I look around and watch my two cousins, the same state of face as my brother's. And then, I lay my eyes upon my Dad and my uncles. They are too numb to what's happening that they are not crying, I decide, because only that explains why they're actually holding on.

Where's my grandmother? I ask myself. Then hushed whispers flows in and I know they were about to take him to the grave. I close my eyes as they pass his coffin and out to the door although I catch a slight glimpse of the brown wooden coffin.

I try my best to not think of what this means but I fail to do so, because, for the
first time, it's all real to me:

He's gone….
Not coming back again….
The last time…

And I cry and cry in silence, not letting out any voice out as I am sure there isn't any.

'Allahuma sakinho fi fasee7i janaatik' a woman starts praying for his soul and I keep crying and saying Amen all along. For the first time, I hear my grandmother's voice. She lets out a high-pitched scream that make me jump off my feet. She's crying so loudly that I can hear her even though she's at her room and I'm in the living room, surrounded by strangers.

After the prayers, a woman says to me 'Do you know who I am?' I look at her stupidly. I do not care if I am rude or not but this isn't the time. She just says 'Your grandmother used to bring you to my house and you were running around with diapers' she laughed at a memory of mine that I didn't recognize or didn't actually care to.

Some of the women look at me and acknowledge each other 'She's X's daughter'. I look around once more and notice that I'm the only granddaughter who dared to attend my grandpa's funeral. The rest are not capable of doing this, my older sister included.

Flashes of his last moments with us are appearing in front of my now-foggy eyes.

When I first knew about his condition, I wanted to visit him at the hospital. He has been there for a week and I knew I must visit because I'm usually the one who does. My sister hates hospitals and can't watch sick people sufferings and miseries. I can't too but I vowed to so as to be there for the people I love no matter what.

I entered his room and he immediately asked 'Where's Mohammed?' Mohammed is my brother and has always been my grandpa's favourite. 'He wasn't allowed to come', I said because he's under-aged.

One week later, I heard Dad talking to Mom about his condition and how the doctors asked to take out the respiratory device that is helping him breathe. My Dad's brothers and sisters, Dad said, insisted on keeping him alive.

And Dad made the right decision, because, once, when it was dad's turn to sleep next to grandpa's bedside, he woke up and said 'You're a good son'. He lived another 2 weeks before passing away. Dad still remembers what he last said to him. It means a great deal to him and I'm proud of their relation for eternity.

May god bless his soul, I loved him so much and I still do.

Neoteric Glance [Finale]

Neoteric Glance ~ Finale
By Kitten

A/N: The final part! Yes. Too soon? I understand and because I do, I chose to end it right now. Another idea of a story jumped into my mind two nights ago and I just knew I had to finish this one or the latter would vanish and this would clash with my thoughts for the upcoming one. I tried as hard as I can to lengthen the story but luck wasn't on my side during the process so why would it hit me now? Without further ado, you may proceed to find out what happens...

I wanted to stand there, in case if she felt like coming out but I didn't know what to tell her exactly because, I decided, I was the stupidest man alive, a total failure, which is no surprise, at all. Even though I couldn't have known, I regret acting foolishly and admitting about what bothered me, I only knew later that I should have kept it to myself.

I hurt her beyond measure and I took full responsibility for that but I couldn't allow that scene to be the one that would end our relation. I wanted to be there for her no matter what, even if it were outside the borders of the school. At least, of that, I was sure.

Giving her time, I fought the urge to call Sarah for two long nights in which I spent in and out of sleep, reluctantly. Only on Sunday did I build up the courage to pick up my cell.

'Hello Kate. Can you send me Sarah's address?'


Nearly two minutes passed till I heard light footsteps on the other side. 'I'm coming', Sarah said.

She opened the door and was surprised to see me, of all people, standing there. 'Hey', I said immediately. It didn't take long for her to whisper back, 'Ryan. Hi'.

I then asked a simple question 'How are you doing?'

'Fine', was the word that pierced my ear the most as I knew for a fact that she wasn't.

'Sarah', I wanted to cut right to the chase and say it, 'I'm so sorry for your loss, I wouldn't have said a thing if I knew'.

'I am too', she said, in a distanced-voice that wasn't hers.

Then she gestured for me to come in. I walked inside her house knowing that there were people who lived here but no longer did. People whom were so dear to Sarah that she might have taken a long time to get over them and I brought their memories back, ignorantly.

The living room had a nicely decorated shelf containing over two hundred books, I assumed. The bookshelf was so wide that it covered the entire right side of the room and gave it a rectangular outline.

She followed my gaze and said, almost soundlessly, 'They used to be my Dad's'. At that, I couldn't breathe.

'They passed away in an accident', she whispered and I didn't bring myself to look at her face, her used-to-be cheery face that I forever distressed.

'Oh, Sarah', I exhaled heavily and went up to her this time. Sitting next to her made me realize how pale her face had become since the last day I saw her. She kept staring at her hands while speaking, 'A young driver hit their car. My Dad was driving and Mia and Lizzie were playing rock, paper or scissors at the back seat'. She smiled halfheartedly and continued, 'They all died at once'.

'Sorry', I choked out the only words I can say even if it wouldn't make any difference. Without thinking, I opened my arms and she fell right into them. She hugged me back so tight that I nearly gasped for air.

'They left me all alone', she sobbed, tears flowing right into my white shirt. 'Shhh', I wanted her to shake off this idea, 'if they had the choice, they wouldn't. No one would. I know I wouldn't ever leave you'.

We sat there for several minutes, Sarah crying and I, well, trying my best to sooth away her pain. Suddenly, she backed away from me and eyed my now-ruined shirt. 'I'm sure you didn't come here so that I could ruin your shirt', she said and reached her arms for some Kleenex. She wiped away her tears with trembling hands. 'If you ever felt like talking to someone', I started saying, 'then know that I'm here'.

When she nodded, I held both her hands between mine and said, 'Sarah, I know this isn't the time but, when I first met you, I knew you were different and that's when I became a different man. I had insomniac nights in which I began thinking of what I would do about my feelings, the ones that I have for you. My parents divorce forever changed me, made me sulk in a whole other world where its population was one person; me. And you, well, you amended that. Watching you every day with the kids made me get in touch with my little siblings that I haven't heard of in weeks and overall, enjoy the little things I had'. I felt like I said all of that in one breath. What the heck, I thought and finally said it, 'I like you, Sarah, very much, and I even think I'm falling in love with you'.

She seemed to digest all of this. God! This is way too much for one night, she must be thinking.

'Ryan' she said my name with a special tone that made me adore her every time she uttered it. 'I think I do too'. She smiled right this time because it reached to her eyes. 'Your arrogance and stubbornness makes you unique', she said and I felt my heart pounding hastily.

'Is that a good or a bad thing?' I asked, grinning.

This may sound bossing around but, I would like you to give me honest comments on how to improve my writing. That being said, I also tried to get into the male character here (Ryan); Let me know if I did. And special thanks goes to Squinty, Naba and Rummy.

Neoteric Glance [4]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Four
By Kitten

A/N: I know it's been a week but what can I do? Ramadhan is growing on me and I'm determined to a5tim the Quran this time, inshallah. Other than that, Ryan & Sarah keep fading in and out of my mind during the whole time so I wrote this one small chapter.
Waking up on the next morning, I wasn’t so shocked about having dreamed of her, blazing under the sunlight, her hair waving behind her like sun rays spreading across the ocean.

I took a long, steamy shower in the hopes of washing everything away. By the time I reached the main center, there she was, looking as beautiful as ever. I watched Sarah tuck her hair behind her ears while being deeply engrossed in whatever she was reading. When I interrupted her, I felt like a thief, stealing the peacefulness that surrounded her completely.

I was reading a trivial book, one that has all the useless information normal people wouldn’t want to read and was fascinated by the cool facts about animals.

“Dolphins evolved from land animals. The land ancestors of dolphins lived about 50 million years ago and looked a little like a wolf”.

When a silhouette formed above my head, blocking the light, I raised my head and saw Ryan eying me as if I was from a different planet.

'Hi there', I said to catch her attention because she only noticed me when I got too near. She replied back and after shutting the book, she stood up and off we went.

The day passed by in a blink of an eye and before departing, Ryan shocked me by asking about my phone number. My face might have given the information away which is why he quickly explained ‘In case, you know…Kate had another emergency and would like you to take some of her classes. I just thought you might want to know before-hand’. He was considerate and I liked that. After handing him my number, both of us went to separate ways.

Another smooth day has passed, I wanted to say at the end of our final day together but I couldn't. When I walked in to class earlier, I was amazed yet again. Sarah gave her students a 10 minutes recess in which she had them play hide-and-seek. I saw her pretending that she couldn't see James, the little guy whose hiding place was under the table. At long last, she surprised the boy by saying 'boo!' and at that, the bell rang.

Furious for god-only-knows-why, I hurried outside, without escorting Sarah this time because she had learned the place by heart already. Reaching the main building, I stopped there to sign on the board and searched through my pocket for my keys.

'Where did you go?', she said out of the blue and instead of responding, I found my keys and started walking away with a quicker pace and when I couldn't ignore her anymore, I turned around and said, 'Okay, I give up', raising both hands in defeat. She gave me a puzzled look and I resumed, 'I don't know how you do it…' I trailed off. Her eyes just kept watching me in silence like I was some sort of lunatic, speaking gibberish. 'You come out here, all happy around kids, for every single damn day, not to mention, doing all of this for nothing when I- - I…’ stammering on my words, I finally confessed, 'when I can't even stand my own little siblings'.

The twinkle in her eyes cut across my heart as sharp as a knife as that tear escaped from her chocolate-brown eyes and rolled down her left cheek. That drop of salty water alone froze me in place and did all the talking and even if she didn't say it out loud, I was sure as hell that I understood.

After what seemed like a decade, Sarah said flatly 'Mine died'.

I wanted to jump off my place and hug her, with the promise of protecting her or comforting her, I didn't know which one is which, because for the first time, it felt as if she had all the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders.

Fighting back tears, Sarah ran to the ladies room.

And I couldn't have hated myself more than I did back then.


Couple Of Advices

(1) Praying Taraweeh have never felt more beautiful than having to do it at the mosque almost every single day. Take this from me and don't waste this rare opportunity.

(2) Mosque is a place for praying, reading Quran and not for women to bring their babies along. Coming to the mosque is important but you can leave your kids back at home or at your family's, let the others worship Allah in a quiet atmosphere. Of course, I'm talking about 1-4 years old who would not only speak loudly, but keep running around causing havoc for one whole hour.

(3) If an act of kindness was presented to you, please welcome it with a warm heart. Even if it were simple things like someone is trying to open up the door for you, and most importantly, take the time to thank them.

(4) Set every hour after every prayer to at least read a single chapter of Quran, that way, you would finish reciting the Quran by the end of Ramadhan.

(5) TV is a total waste of time, especially in Ramadhan with what the Khaleeji shows, etc. Watch some good & beneficial shows like Khawatir and the like; you'd learn a lot in a mere of 20 minutes.

First Taraweeh Prayers In Years

Remember how in my previous post I mentioned about wanting to do the Taraweeh prayers in a mosque? Well, last night, I did just that. When Dad knew about the women-area in the same mosque he and my brothers go to, he agreed to drop me by. I entered, made the wu'9oo and joined the ladies lined up for prayers. The women next to me tugged at my arm, asking me to squeeze in so as to make room for the others. Gladly, I made it just in time for Ishaa prayer and we all prayed with the Imam. This brought a rush of memories of my previous years in praying in a mosque as a jama3a, and there are absolutely no words for this heartwarming feeling.

After finishing the 4 ruk3ats of Ishaa, people rose again to pray the sunnah prayer and copying them, I did the same. Immediately after I finished, the Imam started the Taraweeh prayers that consisted of 8 ruk3ats. I couldn't help but remember how I used to get tired of standing for the long prayers back when I was 10. I also recalled the fact that my aunt used to tag my sister and I along in the same period of time to a mosque both at noon and night, and once, I drank water from the tank, thinking it was night and we came for Taraweeh instead of spending few hours of noon in reading quran at this same mosque. Then, my aunt told me, god loves you so much that he allowed you to drink few drops of water and that I'm supposed to continue fasting as it obviously was a silly mistake. I can see the incident so vividly as if it happened last night and not few years back.

The witar prayer followed (I knew this because the mother of the child next to me explained so before we started) and the reason I found the explanation useful is because the Imam prayed two ruk3ats, ended the prayer, prayed another single ruk3a, then ended it once more. I was confused and thought better than to ask Dad as I’d be accused of not paying enough attention, but thankfully, Dad explained it all later on: Some Sunni and Ibhadi people do it this way: Two shafa3 and one witar, each separated. Also, the other minor difference is at the salam part, some do it once, and others like me, twice.

If if ever got the chance to do it all again, then I'm sure there will be no hesitations.

The Concept Of Ramadhan

(1) With Ramadan approaching, the TV seems to be flooding with various ads about new shows that had started featuring since today. Why, we should ask, is this so? Have the concept of spending the days of Ramadan in worshiping Allah and increasing our faith changed into anticipating these useless shows?

It reached to a point where we now refer to them as Ramadan TV shows, hence the title. I’ve been pondering on this for a while now and some answers have been ‘because we don’t have anything better to do during fasting’ Is this right? How is Ramadan any different from the rest of the months? Are we too hungry that we’d spend the time from sunrise till the Mugrib prayer watching TV? What bothers me the most is that these shows were especially done for Ramadhan, and to make it worse, by Khaleeji people, or Arabs.

(2) Come to the other part where it's all about preparing various dishes, many of them that end up in the trash. It's both saddening and depressing to spend the whole day cooking this as the main course and that for dessert. Again, you'd notice how this relates to the first idea of watching TV all day long so as to be full, as if food & TV shows are important in this holy month.

I, for one, never cared about following a certain show during fasting, but once a while though, I'd watch some cartoons with my little siblings. If I liked a specific show, then I might watch it later on, as they'd obviously re-play it after Ramadhan. The same goes to food, if it weren't for my family, I wouldn't have participated in cooking, but then again, that (they tell us) IS the spirit of Ramadhan; being with and helping the family.

On a different note, some have been complaining about the weather and how unhelpful it would be for fasting, but let me tell you this; my sister & I have been fasting for the past days (something we do before Ramadhan so as to get used to fasting) and it's nothing out of the ordinary (considering the fact that we're indoor most of the time). And since my parents were in UAE, they fasted along with them and we sensed the Ramadhan-ish vibe on today's Futoor, with all the family gathered around. What I couldn't enjoy is the Taraweeh prayers, even though I insisted on going, there's no women-area in any mosque nearby. (Hopefully one day, I could, inshallah!)

Ramadhan Kareem to all of you, hope we could make the best out of this one.

Note: Follow my dear friend and blogger, Sarz, who has such interesting and informative posts in regards our beautiful religion, Islam. Also, check out her advices on how to invest the days of Ramadhan here.

Neoteric Glance [3]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Three
By Kitten

A/N: Since part 2 was extremely short, here’s a long one. Also, a comment about the character Mohammed in Shattered Hope said that he wasn't manly enough, so I figured to get more in character in Neoteric Glance, hence Ryan get to speak most of the time. Let me know if I'm doing a good job at it or not.
8:15. I wanted to be late by 15 minutes so that I could meet Sarah based on her own timings. We were supposed to meet up at the main center, at the waiting hall but she wasn’t there. For five minutes, I kept wishing if I had slept off till the day after, since I stayed up all night yesterday, watching WWE Monday Night Raw.

Jeanne walked past me smiling and said, ‘Good morning, Ryan. I see you are alone’, this was her usual joke the moment she seems me without the company of a teacher. ‘Guilty as charged’ I shrugged and nodded.

Seating myself on one of the empty chairs, I grabbed today’s paper and went through the headlines. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, I rested my face in the hems of my palm and sighed heavily.

‘Hey, sleepy-head’, it only took me a second to figure out it was Sarah’s soft voice. Raising my head, I was dazzled by her mini red dress. I have always hated bold colours, but on her, it looked…right.

‘Hey’, I surprised myself by smiling and trotting off, closely followed by Sarah. ‘You are late, you know’, I said without facing her.

‘C’mon, I have been here since 7:30 in the morning’, she replied.

Leaving this aside, I thought we could stop on our way and grab a bite at the cafeteria. Before knowing it, we were there when Sarah said she had hers already.

Since she was supposed to stick around with me at all times, I bought a waffle for her, even though she insisted on being full, she ate it afterward. We did not speak much on the table, although I noticed that I was not as tensed as I was with her yesterday. She’s just a natural, I assumed, at making everybody at ease around her or at least, me, in particular.

At 8:45, we were heading to the kindergarten’s section when Ms. Kate abruptly stopped us and asked me to let Sarah fill in her place for the day as she had an emergency back at home. I wondered what the hell was it this time?

I knew Kate for three years now, and she is the kind of person who would do anything to stay in here. Which was weird, if you ask me, because a lot of teachers have confided me in about how hard teaching can be and that I should be grateful for having an awesome thing to do everyday instead. What is so good in repeating the same thing billion of times, but with different people?

Knowing me, I only do this for the cash. If I did not, my landlord would have kicked me out ages ago and I would have to suck up at Dad’s for money every time a new music album came out.

After pointing out the class she’s supposed to be teaching I said, ‘Hello kids, this is your new substitute teacher, Ms. Sarah’, then I seated myself at the back like Sarah did yesterday.

‘Thank you, Ryan’, she whispered as she lifted up her black purse, took out flash cards with the alphabets printed on them and soon, started asking this one and that to pronounce them out loud, though mostly, they struggled in differentiating between d and b, n and m. Later on, she had them write those over and over again.

Here and there, she would crack a joke or two, sing a song and watch them all struggle upon catching the lyrics. It was funny, I should admit. And Sarah, well, she was a different person right then and there.

Today’s highlights would have been getting all attached to Ms. Kate’s class that I secretly wished if she’d have some kind of emergency everyday. I know it makes me selfish, but hopefully, nothing bad happens to her or her children. If only it was urgent enough to be allowed to teach the class again tomorrow and, the day after that…

On the way back to my flat, I kept thinking of Sarah. I have seen many good-looking, if not attractive, women before but they weren’t Sarah… In the back of my mind, flashes of her smile faded in and out while I am not even brave enough to actually admit them to myself, in the first place.

Ever since my parents’ divorce five years ago, I have been afraid of committing to anyone. I sort of pushed the idea of getting involved completely away as I obviously feared ending up just like Mom and Dad.

I am twenty-five now and my thoughts are filled with Sarah to the point that I forced myself asleep the moment the clock struck 9 PM because, I figured, if I get to shut down my brain, I will be fresh tomorrow and Sarah will be gone as fast and she came in and took control of my remaining senses…

Click here to view part One, Two & Three

Neoteric Glance [2]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Two
By Kitten

A/N: Based on the feedback I got (Okay, two of them but they're highly appreciated people) I decided to post the next part, which isn't as long as the first one.

Day one was a success, I would say but I am not so sure my new instructor would agree. Ryan was his name and I do not know for how long I have been in love with his name and if someone was to ask, I would say I haven’t got a single idea why. While spending a few hours together today, I noticed that Ryan had a lingering irritation, the one that is not hard to figure out no matter what.

Apart from his attitude, the kids were amazingly cheerful and adorable hence I cannot wait to get back tomorrow. After leaving Ryan to himself at the end of day, I decided to take Ms. Kate aside so that I could be filled in with the day’s schedule, all the while, she repeatedly pressed on drawing a smile on my face all day long, because, she said, ‘teachers are supposed to’. ‘This’, I told her, ‘you wouldn’t have to worry about’ as I am always happy around children, and who wouldn’t be, if I may ask?

Ever since I was given the honour of teaching here, in the North Creek institution, I haven’t heard anything of volunteer work. So this Sarah girl comes up with something new and generally, to be honest, I hate new-bies. My friend Jeanne thinks I’m being paranoid but I do have the right to be ‘the one’, not just anyone, and this will probably happen if someone, like Sarah today, fills in my place. Just saying.
Click here to view part One, Two & Three

Neoteric Glance [1]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter One
By Kitten

A/N: I came back from China
on Tuesday and I've been meaning to blog about the trip but I haven't finished uploading the pictures so that might take a while. But then I hated the idea of abandoning this place that yesterday, at around 2 AM, I picked out my notebook and searched for a story I've started writing sometimes back but haven't finished. I'd started scratching this line and adding that, in the hopes of publishing a polished piece of writing to you. Enjoy and let me hear your thoughts.

She’s late. Why I am not surprised?

I checked my watch and realized that I have wasted 15 minutes of my time waiting for this new teacher, or as they call her, a volunteer. And for the life of me, I cannot seem to understand how can someone, in his right mind, willingly volunteer for babysitting children. Or maybe, she had lots of free time and is desperate for a job that she would try to delude these co-workers of mine into believing she is capable of pulling this thing off so easily. As if.

‘Hi’ a woman approached me. ‘Are you the instructor? Hmm...’ she has forgotten my name. Perfect.

‘Ryan..?’ I guessed.

‘Yeah’, she answered.

‘I am your instructor, Ryan. Remember the name or you will get lost around here someday’ I hope, I muttered under my breath and I didn’t care if she heard me because she seemed busy, registering the shapes of the similar buildings nearby.

‘If you will come with me’ I gestured to the right direction, ‘we will be done with this in no time’.

She turned around and considered me for a second and said, ‘I am the one who is supposed to be grumpy. It is not your first day here, is it?’

‘No’, I replied back, ‘less chatting and more touring, okay?’ When she didn’t say a thing, I added, ‘Come on,’ and walked off to lead the way.

It is going to be a very long day, I assured myself.

It took us merely two minutes to reach the second building which had the kids’ classes. We walked in silence till I broke it and explained the locations of all classrooms. She just nodded without further questions and I thanked god for that.

On the second floor, one of the classroom’s doors stood ajar that I pointed out as the kindergartens'. Without a word, she walked over to the class, introduced herself and began asking weird questions like, ‘what are your hobbies?’ and ‘do you enjoy drawing?’ I stared, gaping over her behaviour. Why did she care about their favourite colour and whatnot?

When I came forward, I noticed them responding back. She had made friends already, I guessed because they all gathered around her, forming a round circle, asking and answering questions. She, unlike me, seemed to be enjoying herself and laughing for the first time since I met her a while ago.

A teacher came in her class and was shocked to see an intruder. Sarah introduced herself again rather briefly, took permission and seated herself at the far end of the class. I wanted to get in but I was kind of relived to have a few minutes break so I quickly hit the cafeteria and ordered a snack. When the bell rang announcing the end of the lesson, I climbed the stairs in a hurry and stepped in my track the moment I saw students hugging Sarah and asking her if she would come back tomorrow. A bright colour of red rose on her cheeks as she said goodbye to her little friends. Spotting me over their little heads, she came forward and looked at me, waiting for my next sentence. I blinked repeatedly and said, ‘what was THAT all about?’ almost screaming.

‘What?’ she asked, innocently.

I wanted to yell at her for abandoning me because it’s my duty to have done so, yet, the stupid and innocent face she had on made it all the more impossible for me to even resume staring. ‘Nothing’, I fumed. ‘Where are we going next?’ she inquired almost immediately. ‘Over here’, I led the way again, past the main center to the third building on the left. ‘This the building of the older group of students’’, I repeated what I usually said, ‘aged 12 to 17’.

She nodded and we entered. The atmosphere here was a bit serious than the latter. It was quiet and I could sense the surprised look on Sarah’s face. I laughed and said, ‘They are supposed to be studying’. She didn’t seem to get the joke yet she smiled politely, showing the same dimpled, perfect smile of hers.

Her silence, I have to admit, was irksome for she wasn’t like the other teachers I have encountered before. They had asked about when the school day would come to an end, where are the meeting-halls, ladies’ room or if they would get to meet up with me a second time and they would flirt a little when asking, but all of this…doesn’t seem to interest Sarah in any way possible. Based on what I observed, she had this habit of staring at every corner, like she is contemplating mysterious beauty, which I found quiet fascinating.

‘Ryan,’ she interrupted my thoughts, ‘what are we doing here?’

‘Huh?’, I asked.

‘I mean, why aren’t we touring around the place?’

‘Uh-oh, I guess we have done that part already’. I shrugged.

‘Oh, then, what are YOU doing here?’ she asked again.

‘I do not know,’ I said ‘maybe I am your instructor and I am not supposed to leave you till you get the place, and that’s hmm, let see…a week from now?’

Click here to view part One, Two & Three