Becca's Journal

rebecca_c @ 2006-07-28T21:40:00

2006-07-28T13:41:57Z

It's been ages since I've updated. I'm just posting to say I'm alive and so that livejournal doesn't delete my journal for being inactive or something equally depressing. :D

(Most probably) Final Entry

2005-10-09T05:32:43Z

This is it. I finally got fed up with my livejournal account. I'm going to create a new one in livejournal while staying anonymous. It's going to be a private journal. I'm so going to miss this account! :)

Okay, I just couldn't to do it. Future updates may be less, but I couldn't bear to leave this account!

As usual..

2005-09-30T06:26:42Z

I felt like typing something. Unfortunately, I do not have any interesting plot-bunnies to begin at the present moment. Which is why I will type a rant on what happened on the past few days. Or just anything at random.

Anyway, the school class photo has been taken. I can't, however; post it online because I'm using the free livejournal account. Even if I do, it would be really crooked because I have no idea how to scan an object properly. (I might check out the help section for tips, though) The most interesting-looking person in the picture is Ivan, who winced and looked as if someone kicked him in the place the sun never shines. My father said Bryan is handsome - but he looks like a sissy. He also said Jing Li is athlethic looking. And the prettiest girl in class is Sue San. My mum said that Ivan was the most handsome guy in the class.

I closed my eyes in the first version of the photograph, though. And I had a goofy smile on my face. (But someone told me I looked cute when I smile. Do I???)

For me, I think the most photogenic guy is Jing Li, and the most photogenic girl is Shermaine. They looked absolutely gorgeous in that picture. (Even more so than in real life. If anyone else thinks it's possible.)

I can't remember who - but one of the girls was talking to me about this generation of boys seem to be growing shorter. In fact, the only guys with average height (that is taller than at least a handful of girls in my class) are: Keith, Kam Whye, Bryan, Vincent and Ivan. (somehow Ivan seems short this year) The taller guys are Omar, Vinoth and Jing Li. It's rather weird, after all; we're already 13. Isn't it already time for those guys to 'shoot up', as they all say?

I'm rather worriewd about my Art results. The best marks for my entire Form is 25/40 (Koh Zhuan Khye). The highest marks for my class, in the other hand is 23/40. (Chui Xing) Teacher said that mine was quite nice but I'm scared of getting less than the maximum marks. The only good thing about the entire thing is that I got 10/10 in painting the doll. Should I get about 6-10 wrongs for my objective, I might possibly get a B. Which would be really horrible for me - as I am trying to get at least the 3rd or 4th position in class. I really studied hard for it. I stopped using the computer for three weeks , for goodness sakes! I'll positively scream if I don't get good results.

Will add more later.

One of the many amusing e-mails that I received:

Warning: Foul language. Some of it. Mild. W/e.

ON WITH THE FORWARD!

COLLEGE THEME PAPER: HE VS. SHE

Remember the book "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"?

Well, here's a prime example offered by an English professor at an American University.

"Today we will experiment with a new form of composition called the
tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the
person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write
the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first
paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person
will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth.

Remember to reread what has been written each time in order to keep the
story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking and anything you
wish to say must be written on the paper. The story is over when both
agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of my English students:

Rebecca -last name deleted, and Gary- last name deleted.

-------------------------------------------------------------
STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
camomile, which used to be her favourite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about
him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of
the question.

------------------------------------------------------

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron
now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about
than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with
whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to
Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar
orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could
sign off, a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a
hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him
flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

----------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately but not before he felt
one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who
had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its
pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.
"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,"
Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously
excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her
youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no
newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of
innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one
lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

---------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed
the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had
left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were
determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage
of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying
enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop
them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion
missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his
top-secret Mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the
coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized
poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President
slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm
going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

----------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

----------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at
writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have camomile
tea? Or shall I have some other sort of FUCKING TEA??? Oh no, I'm such
an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele
novels." ----------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

Asshole.
----------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Bitch.
----------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

Wanker.
----------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Slut.
---------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

Get fucked.
----------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Eat shit.
--------------------------------------------------------

(Rebecca)

FUCK YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!!
----------------------------------------------------------

(Gary)

Go drink some tea - whore.

**********************************************
(Teacher)

A+ - I really liked this one.

Stuck in my head..

2005-09-05T06:24:00Z

I've got this quote stuck in my head the whole day:

If you always don't disagree with him, it's infatuation.
If you always don't agree with him, it's true love.

Gah.

I'm in computer class right now... It's really boring but it's way better than going downstairs to watch the participators in the quiz talk among themselves. I don't think Wei Ann will be very appreciative that her friends aren't there to support her - although I think she should be, as we won't be able see her embarass herself.

So here I am, listening to Vincent talking about some 'square thinghy' and playing Super Mario with Vinoth and Mei Yin.

As you can imagine, it is as delightful as anything can be.

Since there's nothing else for me to do, but ponder about Merdeka, my country's national day. Which was on 31st August. It must seem very patriotic for me not to post anything, even a exclamation of happiness or something related to Malaysia's national day. I don't see the point for the school to celebrate Merdeka than to listen to the Headmaster speak for an additional 10 minutes. Ok.. Gtg.

!!!

2005-09-03T05:48:59Z

OMG! This is the best layout yet!!!

What happened

2005-09-03T05:41:47Z

The virus is finally gone... Jeshua says that the virus is my fault.. I wonder which website caused the virus. I'm staying away from ff.net anyway, just in case. (Coz KC also was infected with a similiar virus)

Lots of things happened the past few days. I got contact lenses and a few hilarious episodes took place. The boys thought I said 'kotex' whenever I said contacts. 'Kotex' - incidentally was a sanitary pad brand. You can imagine how it probably seemed. I asked them : "How do I look in contacts?" What probably came out was: "How do I look in Kotex?" Which was rather disgusting.

Anyway, I'm back on Ranma fanfiction. My obsession with fanfiction actually started when I was 9-10 years old when I was surfing the net for the first time. I saw a "Takari" website (Takaishi Takeru (sp?) + Yagami Hikari)which featured fanfictions related to that couple. I read some of them, got hooked - descovered ff.net and began writing. That was my first touch of f.fiction. Of course, my writing was horrible at that time. (If you do not believe me, check my previous entries; I did a sort-of, not-completed MST on my old DGmon fic) My grammar was out of whack. It was really incohorent. Well, then again, what can you expect from a 10 year old? My next fanfiction obsession was Pokemon. I started digging ff.net for good Pokemon fics. Unfortunately, I could barely find any. I was directed to a CCS (Card Captor Sakura) by one of my favourite Digimon authors and began to read fics in that category. I got hooked - again, and I began to write pieced of CCS fanfics. I can't really remember any of them well though...

The following year, I finally started reading the Harry Potter books. (It was the year when the OOTP was released) I enjoyed it and began trying to find fanfiction with Hermione/Ron relationships in it. Which brought me to Sugarquill.net and checkmated.com. Soon, I started reading Hermione/Draco fanfiction. I think it was the story "Once Upon A Thyme" that converted me. After a while, I began to get bored of that couple and began focusing on my other hobby, drawing. I drew a few comics that I posted online. I loved the feedback that I got and began to draw about 30+ pages before I realized that my art sucked. Just then, I began to buy Ranma comics, trying to obtain the entire series. (I now have 1-33 and 36) My pocket money was dedicated to comics for a few months before I bought all the comics I could and found out that I had to wait for the monthly series to come out before I could - finally get the whole series.

With nothing else to do but wait for the rest of the month to pass, I found interest in Ranma fanfiction. Since this entry is beggining to seem very long-winded, below is the summary of my interests. (excluding sports and other hobbies unrelated to internet)

1) Digimon
2) Pokemon
3) Card Captor Sakura
4) Harry Potter
5) Ranma
6) Harry Potter
7) Digimon
8) Card Captor Sakura
9) Harry Potter
10) Ranma (current status)

These few days, I've been rather resigned - nice, in other words - to Chan Hui Yee. I don't actually understand why myself. I guess it happened during tuition. I attended night class (where she was attending as well) and she didn't understand something.. and she asked me.

Me.

Someone who hated her since year one. Someone who looked down on her all the time.

She swallowed her pride to ask me a simple Maths question which she could very well solve by asking somebody else. Just then, I felt so bad and decided to be nicer to her. It helped that I made a vow in Youth the following week to treat better. Anyway, Mei Yin's grateful 'coz she doesn't have to listen to Hui Yee whine anymore.

I'm also going to make a new fanfiction account (should I ever return to ff.net.. ((the virus!))) next time. I thoroughly embarassed myself after posting a fanfiction with the name "Wo De Meng Zhi...". I claimed to have researched (which I did) but the website that provided me information was inaccurate. Some of the Mandarin mistakes was pointed out by someone else. I cannot understand why I was so embarassed but I deleted the fic anyway. And it was one of the fanfiction that I wrote that I was proud of. That was a blow to my ego...

In school...

- We're having a minggu Sejarah this Monday. Omar's entering the fashion show. I suggested that he wore a baju kebaya. If he didn't have one, I told him I would borrow him mine (which is actually my mother's) although it might be too short. Here is the list of people participating.

History Quiz

Faun Hao Yan
Au Wei Ann
Chai Kar Yee

Fashion Show

Faun Hao Yan
Omar

Singing Competition

Aryle
Afiq

There is also a little anger management problem that surfaced. I'm getting rather annoyed by Aryl and his stupid attempts to be cute. He keeps going: "Rebecca, Rebecca" this, "Rebecca, Rebecca" that. It annoys me to no end. I changed place just to escape his wrath. Omar does not even come close to Aryl's degree of causing irritation on his worst day. And Omar brought up the subject of Darryl Soh. When teacher asked him to join, he said: "Let Afiq join la. He's an expert in showcasing underwear." I said: "But you'd look beautiful in a baju kebaya!" He replied: "You wear swimsuit la, Darryl sure will stare wan." Stupid asshole.. As if I need reminding about that pig...

I don't understand some girls sometimes. Some of them complain about the size of their chest. They have no idea what those who have nothing to complain about suffer as the butt of guys' dirty jokes. Luckily I don't get subjected to it much, as most of the guys in my class are immature while the rest know better than to cross me.

Has anyone noticed that my entries are slightly longer than what they used to be? Well, after writing lengthy essays in school - there's bound to be some improvement somewhere...

Oh yeah, nearly forgot to mention. Wei Ann, Khye Chwin, Fiona and I are in a sort of changing-place plan. It prevents me from suffering insanity due to Aryl and prevents Fiona from suffering insanity due to Michelle. The only problem is that Jing Li might change place with Aryl, which - at the end - will be a constant pain in the ass. In order to do so, I might sit in my old place for a while until Jing Li comes in...

Gonna change my layout.

rebecca_c @ 2005-08-21T00:22:00

2005-08-20T16:23:28Z

bvcvbcvcvb

rebecca_C's Word Usage

1. the (556)	26. at (57)	51. this (30)	76. now (22)
2. to (342)	27. but (55)	52. time (30)	77. go (21)
3. a (254)	28. all (51)	53. an (29)	78. after (21)
4. was (225)	29. have (50)	54. person (28)	79. very (21)
5. of (223)	30. would (47)	55. we (28)	80. didn't (21)
6. her (213)	31. out (47)	56. from (28)	81. think (20)
7. i (212)	32. by (46)	57. into (28)	82. or (20)
8. and (210)	33. are (45)	58. what (27)	83. projek (20)
9. she (178)	34. there (44)	59. get (27)	84. kami (20)
10. it (164)	35. were (44)	60. like (27)	85. still (20)
11. that (141)	36. when (44)	61. people (26)	86. which (20)
12. in (121)	37. one (43)	62. i'm (26)	87. ricky (19)
13. he (104)	38. no (42)	63. red (26)	88. felt (19)
14. you (92)	39. so (42)	64. eyes (26)	89. day (19)
15. on (89)	40. they (40)	65. him (26)	90. many (18)
16. had (86)	41. about (38)	66. do (26)	91. where (18)
17. is (80)	42. me (37)	67. can (25)	92. then (18)
18. for (79)	43. just (36)	68. someone (24)	93. some (18)
19. not (78)	44. even (35)	69. it's (23)	94. other (18)
20. as (75)	45. could (34)	70. only (23)	95. than (17)
21. my (74)	46. your (34)	71. them (23)	96. did (17)
22. be (70)	47. said (32)	72. how (23)	97. more (17)
23. his (64)	48. who (31)	73. up (23)	98. through (17)
24. with (62)	49. will (31)	74. knew (22)	99. cobra (17)
25. penelle (59)	50. if (30)	75. girl (22)	100. been (17)

Username:
Word Count by Hutta.

rebecca_c @ 2005-08-20T20:49:00

2005-08-20T12:57:11Z

There is a rather determined virus attacking my computer as of now. Everytime I type http://www.livejournal.com/update.bml into my browser it will automatically close it. I'm battling against it by opening many tabs in Mozilla. (And they tend to warn you when you are about to close all the tabs, so I kept clicking 'Cancel'. It's a never ending battle so far.) The virus tends to slow everything down, disconnect from certain websites and closes them. There was once a notepad appeared saying:

Fuck you Larissa!
You n00b!

Or something like that. I have no idea who this bitch Larissa who got an enemy who attacked my computer is.

This entry is written later:

It's still very difficult for me to do anything with LJ. I have to update in less than 1.5 seconds (in which the window would appear to close Mozilla) and edit it.

Wow.

2005-08-13T13:50:12Z

Love Calculator by EbonyScythe
1st Person Name
2nd Person Name
1st Person Gender
2nd Person Gender
Compatibility Percent	64
Time Together	Eleven years

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Love Calculator by EbonyScythe
1st Person Name
2nd Person Name
1st Person Gender
2nd Person Gender
Compatibility Percent	4
Time Together	1 day

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Love Calculator by EbonyScythe
1st Person Name
2nd Person Name
1st Person Gender
2nd Person Gender
Compatibility Percent	9
Time Together	Twenty years

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Too bad, Wei Ann.

ROTFLMAO!!!

Mua

2005-08-13T13:21:33Z

Your Icon is..... by d3athofs3asons
Your Name
Your Age
Your B-day
Your Icon Is....

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Your Icon is..... by d3athofs3asons
Your Name
Your Age
Your B-day
Your Icon Is....

Quiz created with MemeGen!

Civics Project

2005-08-13T13:01:45Z

LAPORAN PROJEK

Projek Khidmat Masyarakat Pendidikan Sivik dan Kewarganegaraan SMK Kepong Baru

Nama: Rebecca Choong Shu Wen
Tingkatan: 1B
Nama Guru Penasihat: Puan Yap Lian Chin

ISI KANDUNGAN

1) Tajuk
2) Objektif Projek
3) Perlaksanaan Projek :
a) Perancangan
b) Kerja Amali
c) Refleksi
4) Penghargaan

-------------------------------------------------------

TAJUK

Tema : Pencapaian Kendiri
Nama Projek: ‘Learning To Say No”.
Tarikh/Tempoh: 2 bulan
Perlaksanaan Projek: 1) Perancangan
2) Kerja Amali
3) Refleksi
Ahli kumpulan projek: 5 ahli
Guru Penasihat: Puan Yap Lian Chin

-------------------------------------------------------

OBJEKTIF PROJEK

1) Kami dapat mengenal past kesan perlakuan negatif di kalangan remaja terhadap masyarakat dan Negara.
2) Mempunyai keyakinan diri untuk tidak terlibat dalam kegiatan negatif.
3) Mengamalkan kemahiran menolak kegiatan negatif.

-------------------------------------------------------

PERLAKSANAAN PROJEK

Ahli-ahli kumpulan saya terdiri daripada:
1) Au Wei Ann
2) Faun Hao Yan
3) Gho Khye Chwin
4) Rebecca Choong
5) Chan Hui Yee

------

1) Perancangan

- Selepas guru Sivik 1B memberi tajuk dan langkah-langkah membuat projek ‘Learning To Say No’, ahli-ahli kumpulan saya membuat perancangan awal untuk projek ini. Kami membincangkan cara-cara mengumpul maklumat yang akan kami gunakan.
- Akhirnya, kami membuat keputusan merujuk internet yang luas dengan maklumat, mencari informasi di dalam buku rujukan, kamus, surat khabar dan mendapat maklumat dan pandangan daripada ibu bapa kami.
- Maklumat yang dicari dikumpulkan di sebuah buku nota yang disediakan khas untuk projek Sivik ini. Gho Khye Chwin bertugas untuk mencari informasi yang diperlukan. Bahan-bahan yang diperlukan dibeli oleh Faun Hao Yan. Kami merancang untuk berkumpul di rumah salah seorang daripada ahli kumpulan kami untuk memulakan projek ini.

2) Kerja Amali

- Kami meneliti maklumat-maklumat yang telah Gho Khye Chwin cari serta mengeluarkan isi-isi yang tidak diperlukan. Kami berkeputusan untuk meninggalkan ruang untuk melukis tajuk sebelum menetapkan kedudukan papan-papan tanda yang akan dilukis. Rangka-rangka lukisan disediakan. Huraian dan nama papan-papan tanda tersebut ditulis dengan pensil.
- Setiap ahli ditugaskan untuk mengambil peranannya yang tersendiri. Au Wei Ann mengunakan computer dan mencetak nama dan maklumat papan tanda tersebut supaya kelihatan kemas. Saya melukis papan tanda di atas sebuah kad manila sebelum Faun Hao Yan mewarnainya, ~~Chan Fuck Pat Pat~~ Chan Hui Yee pula melukis dan mewarna tajuk projek kami.

3) Refleksi

- Sepanjang perlaksanaan projek ini, saya mendapati bahawa kami dapat menanam sifat menguruskan masa di dalam diri kami. Ini kerana kami terpaksa mengimbangkan masa kami untuk menyelesaikan projek ini di samping menghabiskan kerja rumah kami yang biasa. Tambahan pula, kami juga mendapat tahu maksud papan-papan tanda yang didirikan di sekiling kita.
- Kami juga belajar untuk berkerjasama dengan satu sama lain. Maksud ‘seperti aur dengan tebing’ dapat kami hayati sepenuhnya. Kesan-kesan perlakuan negatif di kalangan remaja dapat kami kenal pasti dan hindari. Secara tidak langsung, kami juga membina keyakinan diri sendiri untuk tidak terlibat dalam kegiatan negatif serta berkemahiran menolak kegiatan negatif.

-------------------------------------------------------

Penghargaan

Di atas kejayaan projek ini, saya ingin mengucapkan terima kasih kepada beberapa pihak yang telah mengambil peranan yang besar di dalam perlaksanaan projek ini.
1) Puan Yap Lian Chin
Guru Sivik saya yang telah banyak memberi tunjuk ajar serta rangka projek ini.
2) Ibu bapa saya
Ibu bapa saya telah banyak mendorong dan memberi pendapat sepanjang projek ini.

It's really shitty. But I tried.

A little about the haze...

2005-08-11T08:04:14Z

There's a haze enveloping a large part of Penninsular Malaysia. It's mostly due to the forest fires in Sumatera, though open fires in Malaysia also contribute to this cause. People everywhere in the affected areas are forced to wear masks as soon as they take a step outside. Klang valley's A.P.I. has been rated: "hazardous" while Kuala Lumpur is: "very unhealthy". Schools in Klang Valley and Kuala Lumpur are closed for today and tommorow due to the worsening haze. Many people are getting sick. Asthmatic people are getting worse. I am one of those asthmathic people. Now I am forced by my father to stay at home, wearing a mask as well. The carbon dioxide makes the mask warm, and suffocating. But I have no choice.

I may sound dramatic. But let me assure you that I'm not.

Our sight is limited to less than 600 metres. Everything else is a hazy blur. Our once beautiful blue sky has vanished entirely. The smoke is choking us. We can't even see the Petronas Twin Towers anymore. Everyone is worried...

The deputy Prime Minister has announced that once the A.P.I. exceeds 500; there will be a 'darurat'. I don't think we had one since 13 May, when there was a horrible war between the races. Our current A.P.I. for Klang is 424. It isn't long now. The haze is worsening, and there's nothing we can do about it but try to prevent ourselves from getting horribly affected.

Someone really needs to take action on those Sumatera fires.

Pic!

2005-08-07T16:33:27Z

http://www.deviantart.com/view/21468813/

I really liked how I drew Harry and Hermione. They look really sweet.

^_^

2005-08-07T08:52:01Z

I've got the recorded video of Bryan singing the "Kumitha" song! It's really very stupid, all the more reason to see it! Anyway, it's easier if you get it from Keith, than for me to post online.

Carnival Day wasn't much of a success. I had a horrible headache throughout the day; and I spent 3/4 of my time sitting behind the pathethic counter-table, handing out ice-creams. There was drips of ice cream and small messes of sugar rice and milo everywhere. It looks completely repulsive. I have no idea why in the world anyone would want to buy BIFlurry, so it's kinda a success that we sold so many; if you look at it in a positive light. I've just transferred all my old stuff to this computer. The un-edited copy of 'The Red Iris' is even with me now. I'm probably going to edit it when... soon. (I hope) I will be posting that certain copy later. I need to go through it, filter it for mistakes and finally, adjust the plot so that it goes smoothly. It is actually the first story that I wrote that surpassed three chapters. Usually, I abandon the story after two chapters.

There's still the 'Sex God' story for me to sandpaper, along with some of my old works that are rather horrible. When I'm done with everything, and sure that the stories are acceptable; I am going delete my previous pennings and submit my new ones. At www.fictionalley.org . I don't think I want to post anything much in fanfiction anymore. At least at fictionalley, I can be sure that my story has good grammar because they have beta-readers there that go through your fics before you can post them.

These few days, I've become quite intrigued with Greek Mythology. Unfortunately, there aren't many websites based on them these few days. Should anyone find a good website based on this particular topic, I hope you can post the link to it in the 'Comments' section.

Installation Day... Right.

For most of the day, it was boring. After all, I do not think a joint installation day is as fascinating as the speakers seem to. The person in charge of the whole activity (one Chinese girl) could barely speak English. They way she pronounced some words made some of us laugh. Not that my English is that good though... (But still, she's in Form 4! Wouldn't her English be at least - slightly better than what it was?) We (as in the girls) were supposed to wear a long sleeved white blouse (Which had automatically made us think that we were supposed to wear a long sleeve version of our school uniform. At least, Khye Chwin, Hao Yan and I) and a black skirt. And formal shoes. Seriously, I wanted to wear a sort of sandals that was rather formal. But my brother said we must wear 'a-po' shoes. (Which made me trip twice, due to the lack of grip of the shoes. It was really embarassing, falling down in front of the school gate!!!) When I reached school, I saw - all the girls, wearing stylish blouses. (The ones that are form fitting, not the uniform kind.) I felt embarassed at what I wore. (Not that anyone cared, after all Amy Tan wore a white polo shirt, which was tonnes worse) I must seem very clothes- centered... I guess it comes with being a female.

I did a poll in class, and guess who four out of five boys thought was the ugliest girl in class??? Someone really unexpected!

Hui Yee came as second, but that was rather perdicted. (Though I thought she was first)

Oh yeah, and I got my results or KH - 27/30, got 75 for Geography and 70 for History.

Ironically...

I'm history.

T H E R E D I R I S
C h a p t e r O n e
Assignment No. 1#

Shards of glass dug into my skin. Yet, I cannot to anything but endure the sharp pain. The thick ropes cut into my skin after being tied up for so long. Kinneas was still playing with the piece of glass, cutting it into my arm, seeing how deep he could go.

I wanted to scream in pain but I knew. Kinneas enjoyed seeing his victims in pain just like every typical villain. Although I am captured, I would never give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. Besides, I couldn't even scream if I wanted. Gagged with a piece of cloth, only soft, barely audible groans of pain could be heard. I had tried to spit the cloth out but it was useless. How old fashioned Kinneas is, I could never figure it out.

How I got into this situation into the first place?

Let me tell you...

***

I am Penelle Derish. Unlike some other normal teenagers my age, I was born with a certain psychic ability which I thought was pretty cool in the beginning. (Of course, a few years ago, you would considered fantastic if you could do anything supernatural and now they name you a freak)
But now, I absolutely loathe it.

I've been adopted by The Prim Institute. A place for unnatural people like me. It's sort of like X-Men but the tricks and all are very lame. We get trained and at the end, go on weird missions for the people there. I have never gone on a mission. I barely passed level three.

My parents?

My dad died before I was even born while my mum died when I was twelve. Dad was said to be some sort of hero in The Battle in 3332 seventeen years ago. I was born the next year. Whoever that was born in year 3333 were always considered very lucky.

But I wasn't lucky at all.

Instead; far from it.

The money my parents left me were not enough to cover for my apartment and I had to move out. My mother and father had no relatives I knew of. No one would want to adopt a girl and add to their burdens of 'another mouth to feed'. At least, none of mum's friends. Frankly, I do not believe that anyone would rent a place to live to a twelve year old.

I stayed in the community hall near some of my friends homes. I got shoo-ed away and insulted when I take a step in my friend's homes. Therefore, I only slept in the community hall and spent the rest of my time wandering aimlessly. I stopped school. I could not afford it. Furthermore, which normal (maybe not-so normal) twelve year old loves school? I bought food with the money I had, trying to make it last as long as I could. I cleaned myself in an unusually clean river near my make-shift home. A month later, all the money was gone.

I spent three weeks digging through rubbish bins and begging for food. Until, I accidentally used my 'powers' in front of someone. I was caught by him and brought into the institute. There, I was officially declared an adopted child of the Prim Institute.

***

Penelle walked towards her locker slowly. Her heavy bag dragged behind her. Developing all sorts of weird abilities was clearly not one of her best talents. Her hands sagged to her side as she racked her brain to remember her flying locker code.

Trying to choose between 8-7-1-3 and 8-1-7-3, she almost fell over in surprise when someone greeted her.

"Hi, Pen." the blonde guy who she didn't even recognize after four years in the institution, said. "See ya." Then he took a jet off.

Penelle's eyes and mouth could not be wider. She was never greeted but in fact, ignored. Many of the people in the institution think she's different as she was the only adopted child of the institution. The rest of the kids had parents. Only that their parents thought that the institution was strictly for education. Every student in P.I. was forced to take an oath not to tell anyone about the school and abilities. No one had ever been expelled from the school before. Amazingly, everyone there were quite well behaved. Except to Penelle.

Penelle tucked her hair behind her ear self-consciously as she felt a presence of another behind her.

She recognized it.

And groaned.

It was Chris Sanders, the most popular, handsome guy in the institute. You know, one of THOSE people who are undeniably perfect in every way except their over inflated ego and of course, the lack of brain cells. Of course, Chris was never alone. Like other egoistic guys, he was flocked with his fan club.

Penelle knew what kind of person Chris was. She absolutely despised him.

"What do you want, Sanders?" she said in between gritted teeth.

"Just coming by to say, hi." said Chris, leaning on Penelle's flying locker. "Why? Is that a criminal offence, Penny?"

His fan club giggled. (Yes, even the guys; if there were any)

"Don't call me Penny." Penelle almost-growled.

"Why, Penny?"

"This is the last time I'm going to warn you," said Penelle, her voice dangerously low. "Don't call me Penny."

Any one with a brain that functions even 5% of the time would have stopped taunting Penelle. Unfortunately for Chris, he had a vacancy on where his brain was supposed to be.

"I'm so scared, Penny." mocked Chris.

Even his fan club did not giggle anymore but quickly walked away. THEY had brain cells, even though only a few.

Penelle had a vision of red.

Her anger rose to a extremely dangerous level.

Everything in within five meters from her exploded into flames.

***
Later...

"Miss Derish." said the 'principle' of PI. "Have you realized what you have done?"

Penelle bowed her head down. She regretted the explosion. Mainly because all of her stuff was inside the locker that was blown up. Yet, she rather liked it as Chris Sanders received the worst of the explosion. (With was very little because Penelle wasn't THAT angry...) She was not affected, for some strange reason.

"Mr. Sanders had been sent to the Infirmary where he had third degree burns on his face." he said as though it was the end of the world. "Luckily we have very EXPERIENCED medics here and we were able to fix him up although he would have to carry a scar."

Penelle resisted the urge to laugh.

"But..." started the principle.

Penelle looked up immediately.

"We are going to have something special for you, as you are a special young lady, with special abilities." said the principle smiling. "Yes, something special."

Penelle raised her eyebrow, her heart full with dread.

***

A girl wiped the sweat off her brow. Her heart was beating so loudly that she expected the people in the boat to look up at the ceiling and spot her. Her muscles were sore. She had been on the ceiling with Ricky's experimental stick-gloves. Yet, no one had entered the safe room.

Her first mission: To take the platinum ring in the safe room that the owner of the gigantic ferry-like boat stole. At least, it was what she had been told.

Unfortunately, the girl had not even entered the safe room yet. No one wanted to check on the ring. Frustration ate into her. She had no idea why Ricky called them stick-gloves... You don't wear gloves at your feet, do you? She shook her head. It was no time to be curious.

Using her stick-gloves she crawled on the ceiling slowly to the entrance of the safe room, making it easier to enter the room if someone opened the door. Sweat was trickling down her face. Her heart was beating faster and faster. The stick-gloves were beginning to loose its stickiness. Slowly but surely, her right hand was beginning to follow gravity and droop down.

Her weight seemed to add. She felt like falling down. Many elegantly dressed people were chatting and sipping their glasses of red wine, not noticing Penelle at all. A few minutes later, her left leg began to follow her right hand.

The girl hoped the many gymnastic lessons issued to her by the principle would pay off. Her right hand was about to fall when someone finally opened the door to the safe room. The people were oblivious to the girl and the 'door-opener'. The man who opened the door closed it after just a few moments. He felt as if he was being spied at. He looked up.

There was no one there.

He shook his head and simply assumed he was being paranoid.

***

The girl never really thought Maths to be important until that day.

As stated in her briefing, there was only one place that a grown human being could stand without alerting / getting killed by the dozens of lasers strategically placed there. And through very advanced calculations her superiors made, it was that exact spot where she was supposed to stand. she had forgotten where to go but used her instincts.

The girl thanked her lucky stars for her psychic ability. Although, if it wasn't for her ability she need not have to go through this mission in the first place.

She was supposed to deactivate the lasers and then make her exit. With another strange tool given by Ricky, she stuck it at the side of a small device that seemed to be the device that controlled the lasers. Numbers appeared on a tiny screen. It seemed to flash immediately and suddenly went dead. She felt very relieved that her mission was almost over when someone barged through the door...

To Be Continued...

***

T H E R E D I R I S
C h a p t e r T w o
New Environment

The girl jumped in shock. Sweat trickled down her face when she realized how close the laser was to her right leg. She faced the newcomer.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The man was around six feet tell, with broad shoulders and thick black eyebrows. His eyes were red and menacing, which held the forbidden promise of terror and pain. The girl blinked, reading his moves. She turned back and studied Ricky's machine. The lasers were almost completely deactivated. The girl tried to find her way out. Masking her fear, her eyes searched the room frantically. She knew she had a teleport but it could not work here as there were anti-teleport alarms in this particular room.

She had an idea. It was risky, but it may just work. She waited for the right moment then she looked at the man and raised her eyebrow, taunting him. A soft beep was heard. The lasers were deactivated. The man was about to take a step towards the girl before she walked right in front of him, bravely. Without skipping a beat, the man reached for his pocket to take out a pair of handcuffs. He was about to handcuff her hand when she somersaulted and kneed the man where the sun never shines. He fell on his knees, groaning in pain.

An alarm rang loudly.

The girl ran out of the metal room where the foolish injured man had left the door wide open. The girl swiftly ran out where a dozen armed men surrounded her. She cursed and searched for escape routes. There was only a wall behind her. Suddenly remembering that the 34th century walls were made out of glass. Five-inch glass. Without wasting anytime, she did a back flip. The girl was worried that the glass wouldn't break. Fortunately for her, she had nothing to worry about in the first place. Her weight shattered the glass. The girl winced as the glass pierced through her skin. Yet, they were only minor injuries. As soon as her feet were about to touch water, she tapped the button on her teleporter.

She vanished.

The girl was a little unlucky though, the men had saw her face and would be sure to recognize her.

But when the security guards and the armed men looked out at the sea, they could see the face of the girl dissolving in the warm sea-water. The face was just a mask.

One of the guards reached out to the mask. His fingers barely grazed it when he shrieked in pain.

The mask had burned his hand as if it was acid. The skin on his hand began to wither and began to fall out. Blood oozed out of the corners of the peeled skin. Pink flesh peeked out of the guard's hand.

They now knew why the girl wore very thick gloves.

***

The girl who just went on the mission was Penelle.

Penelle had thought her mission was over and it was time to relax and nurse her wounds.

She was wrong.

***

Penelle was teleported to a strange place. A place which she failed to identify. She looked around, trying to recognize the place she was in. Red sand and rocks was stretching in every direction. Reddish-orange dust was flying around her. Her eyes soon watered. Her confusion rose.

Suddenly, a soft, barely heard ring filled her senses. In order to be a psychic in mission, one had to have the sharpest hearing and fantastic eyesight with excellent observation skills. Not to mention, being able to rely on one's senses. Including one's sixth sense. One's instincts had to always be accurate. A single mistake can cost someone's life.

Penelle took out a complicated looking device, barely the size of an egg. A hologram appeared from one of it's many screens. It was the 'principal'. His tanned, wrinkled, yet stern figure frowned at Penelle. She glared back at him.

"Where in the world am I?" she asked, her voice low, yet threatening. She was cranky after her previous mission as she wasn't used to the near-to-death experience and her body lusted for rest. Tiny shards of glass were still in her arm. Her entire arm felt as if it was burning. Her dark eyes demanded the truth.

"You're in another dimension." said the principal, in a monotone voice. "Here you will go through other important missions as there is an uprising there."

"What? Another dimension?" cried Penelle. "Did you even ask me on my opinion on this 'other missions', on how I felt, on whether I would approve or not? Besides, being in another dimension requires a passport or something. And I don't have one."

"This is a special case." said the principal. "Details will be sent through your beeper (he pointed to the source of the hologram) and your equipment will be arriving very soon."

Before Penelle had a chance to protest, the hologram flickered and vanished.

Penelle could barely blink before a beep was heard.

Digits flashed on her beeper's screen, so fast that she could interpret what it had meant.

Her heart constricted as she knew it wasn't from The Organization. They would have sent holograms. It was their signature. Digits, words, alphabets were all out-of-date. Except, of course, to Ricky. Her hand reached for the button to check for the strange message which has saved itself into her inbox. Unfortunately, Penelle's legs buckled under her from exhaustion as she checked the wounds on her body. She was only an ordinary human with psychic powers, after all.

The red sand nestled in her wounds, making it more painful than ever.

Twenty minutes passed, there was no sign on any life on the dimension she was in. The teleport couldn't work, after all, it was under the command of the principal.

With a throbbing head from the heat that radiated from the three red suns above her, Penelle felt helpless. Her head hands sagged to her sides.

Penelle's scream of frustration could be heard miles around. If there were anyone to hear her scream in the first place, of course. She had taken off her black bodysuit leaving a sleveless shirt and a pair of shorts.

Suddenly, there was a loud beep.

Penelle sighed in relief and took out her beeper immediately. As soon as she opened it, a *Rickatious bottle appeared. She took the bottle and began to drink the liquid inside it at an alarming rate. The cool, liquid slid down her throat easily. She gave a soft sigh of contentment as she wiped her lips with her arm and poured some of the cool liquid on her pounding head.

"Thirsty?" a teasing voice asked.

"Dehydrated." replied Penelle sarcastically. "There are three damn suns here. How can anyone survive here?"

The hologram smiled.

"I can think of many ways..."

"Of course." said Penelle rolling her eyes. "Can you tell me where am I? Thanks for the Rickatious bottle, by the way."

The person in the hologram turned around and began to type furiously at what seemed a device with three screens. It was barely the size of his palm.

"No. 5#." said the man. "Anyway, isn't the name Rickatious cool?"

Penelle rolled her eyes again.

"Whatever, Ricky." said Penelle. "Can you give me the information about my current mission and tell me where the hell to go?"

"You are supposed to go to one of the nearest cities. It's called Mewah." said Ricky, frowning as he read the information from the object he was holding. "You are supposed to investigate about a gang called the Revengers who wants to overthrow the government there."

"Wait a second..." said Penelle as she racked her brains, trying to remember where she had heard about Mewah before. "Mewah, the place where drugs dealers dominate and illegal weapons are largely sold?"

"Yes," said Ricky professionally. "There is also a rumour where the gang holds meetings. It is just a rumour but we still want you to investigate."

"Well, where is it?"

"The Red Iris."

"What???" cried Penelle, standing up suddenly. "That's suicide! Does the people there want to get rid of me?"

"Penelle..."

"Don't 'Penelle' me you traitor!" shouted Penelle. Her face was reddening in anger. "If you are my friend, or even my acquaintance you would have at least tried to stop them!"

"I'm..."

"Why don't you just...." began Penelle furiously. Her eyes turned blank for a moment. She gave a soft, barely audible groan and fell down unconscious.

"Penelle..." whispered Ricky, shocked.

"You seem to care about this... Penelle." said a steely voice. "But everything is not what it seems. You should have not sent her here then."

"Ignitis." said the voice again.

Penelle's beeper burst into flames.

***

The last thing Ricky saw was a man between his mid- thirties with bulging muscles and long silver hair. The thing that frightened Rick the most was the man's flaming red eyes.

TBC

***

T H E R E D I R I S
C h a p t e r T h r e e
Capture

Whispers buzzed around the barely lit room. The soft orange glow itself looked like a threat. Jacob bent his head and tried to blend in with the surroundings. He sat at the counter, sipping an unidentified drink that he suspected contained a fair amount of alcohol. Jacob didn't care. He wasn't affected by alcohol.

His eyes fixed on the fleshy bartender who had a skull tattoo on his shoulder. It was the tatoo that attracted his attention. The bartender's eyes seemed lifeless, as if devoid to life and emotion. Music began to fill the room as a barely clothed woman entered the room and began to dance. Jacob didn't take his eyes of the bartender. He eyed his every move. He drained his drink.

It was time.

He tossed a few coins on the counter and left.

***

Ricky remained at the blank giant screen for a few seconds.

He had seen one of the highly respected members of The Cobra. The red eyes had confirmed that. Eyes were one of the markings of rankings in No.5#. Black represented the lowest rank, yellow; the commoners, blue; the rich, orange; the nobility and the highest rank, red; the Rulers of The Cobra. The people in No. 5# were ruled by the dark organization, The Cobra. The Cobra was feared by everyone as it was made clear quite a while ago that any rebellious person would get punished. Ricky shuddered.

Everything he had told Penelle was a lie. There was no 'Revengers'. If there was a group called 'Revengers', The Organization would be more relaxed. All Penelle was to do was to spy on them and listen on their latest plans. Penelle could use her psychic powers and not get hurt at all. Or even detected.

Not even a day into the mission, she was revealed.

Ricky groaned and buried his head into his hands.

It was not good.

He reached for the transmitter and began to contact the headquarters.

***

Penelle winced as her untreated wounds stung her. She looked around. Somehow she knew she had been here before. There was nothing she could recognize as all she could see was inky darkness. But there was this feeling that she had felt before that she could not place. Her psychic powers pierced her mind, warning her. Reminding her.

Loud footsteps interrupted her thoughts.

Without warning, she was thrown onto a wall. It was so sudden that Penelle did not even had a chance to scream.

Her head throbbed as she could feel warm liquid trickling down her neck. Her vision blurred and gradually darkened.

She knew nothing solid touched her. It was as if an invisible force had attacked her. Then, she drifted into unconsciousness.

***

The Principle shuffled through a few old letters, frowning. He remembered there was a snippet of information about The Cobra in No. 5# Orlando had sent him. He had dismissed it and left it... somewhere as it did not seem important that time. He had a sudden craving to learn about The Cobra but it vanished just before the letter arrived. Now it was important. Undeniably important.

The life of Ms. Derish was very valuable. She had all the signs that she was a Mage. Not just a psychic, but a Mage. And a powerful one. Many of the high ranked people in The Cobra were Mages. Mages were uncommon and all that was known about them was that they were able to perform Magic. All he could hope was that Ms. Derish would perform Light Magic and not Dark Magic. He knew it was a risk to make a lie about the Revengers but he could not tell her about The Cobra.

Yet.

The Cobra had a dark past with Ms. Derish. So dark and complicated that only three people in existence knew about it. Him, the Leader of The Cobra and a man bound to a Magical contract, sworn to secrecy or he will suffer a fate worse than death. The Leader had no personal interest with Ms. Derish. At least none that he knew of. But he knew once the Leader found out the truth, the exact truth, he would try to get his hands on Ms. Derish no matter what it takes.

Finally, he found the letter he was looking for. It was of course, not stylish for any kind of information to be put onto something solid, yet it was not by his choice but by Orlando’s.

He scanned its contents and groaned. The principle began to program his beeper.

***

Principle,

The Cobra is consisted of half Mages and full fledged Mages. Half Mages are weaker while full fledged Mages are powerful. Many mages that currently exist do not even realize that they are magical. You will not be sure that someone is a mage or just a duplicate until he is dead. The Cobra consists on the two top ranks red and the rarer in-between, reddish orange.

The People at the top rank are not completely magical but some of them are duplicates which are normal people who learn to use the simplest spells. Some of them teach themselves to trickier spells and succeeds into the rank of a quarter Mage. Do not attempt to go against The Cobra. It would be suicidal.

Most of the members of the Cobra have black hair. Rumors had said that the top five members of The Cobra have silver hair. They can do intensely powerful magic and can kill without effort. The are the main promoters of ‘the fate worse than death’.

As an acquaintance, I would like to tell you that your research on The Cobra is completely useless and fruitless. As your friend, I advise you to stop this nonsense immediately. I am only sending this information as it is my job and I have sworn an oath to help my ‘customers’. Stop this insanity. Right now.



***

Dark red curtains was the first thing that Penelle saw. Not as if there was nothing else to see.

She wanted to escape, she needed to escape. She didn’t even understand why. She pulled the curtains apart, hoping so see a window. All she saw was the red painted wall. Penelle realized that everything she saw was red. Red cushions on maroon marble floor. Red ceilings and wall. And even a red metal door (locked and bolted shut, of course). Everything was red, or at least a shade of red.

The back of her head seem to sting horribly.

She winced and brought her hand to the back of her head. It was coated with a sticky moisture. She inspected it. It was blood. Her blood. Suddenly, the day events rushed back to her. She was in a prison. A prison in red with cushions but a cushion nonetheless.

She walked closer to the blood red door.

One of the locks needed the correct combination to open. The other was a bolt that opened from the outside. The last lock needed a key.

Suddenly, she felt a sting on her head. Penelle instinctively looked above her. There was nothing strange about the ceiling. Until she closed her eyes and concentrated anyway.

She pushed away every thought that had been nagging at her.

A few moments passed but she could not detect anything unusual. Frustration began to eat at her. Then, she felt a magical presence. It was barely there. A normal person would not have felt it. Nor would a level ten student without psychic abilities. She remembered her stick gloves from her last mission and quickly put them on. They would not be effective for a long time as Ricky had made it only for a one time use. Besides, her last mission had forced her to push the gloves to its limits. It was no surprise that it could be used for only a short period of time.

Anger surged through her as she thought for Ricky. She shook her head. She had no time. The person who was keeping her captive was very powerful. She knew that in the very least. She crawled up the wall Spider Man style and reached the ceiling. She inspected every inch of the ceiling before realizing the magical presence was an illusion of the ceiling. She brushed her fingers over the ceiling, searching for an opening before finding a hole. She crawled into it and discovered that se was in an air vent. It was also then when she found out that her kidnappers (for the lack of a better word) had expected her to find her escape. There were no guards posted in her ‘prison’. If they truly intended to keep her captive, they would not have gave her so much freedom. She suspected her escape was a test.

She kept her stick gloves back into her pocket.

Another proof that it was just a examination.

They would probably have searched through her pockets to find whatever she have and dispose it so that she would have no chance whatsoever to escape.

Penelle frowned.

This was one exam she was not going to pass with flying colours.

This time, she was not going to even sit for the test.

She crawled for a while and saw a opening. The exit of her examinations. She ignored it and continued crawling through the air vent. There was a particular smell that made her feel uncomfortable. She could not place where she had smelt the stench before. She began to feel dizzy and her eyes became unfocused. She saw a small trapdoor right under her. She opened it and squeezed herself through.

She landed soundlessly on the ground.

Penelle took a few moments to observe her surroundings.

She was in a kitchen. It was not even a kitchen. It was a large white room with many, many stoves, refrigerators and everything else you can expect a normal kitchen to have. There was no body around. Suddenly, she heard foot steps and the voices of many people. It would be a safe bet to assume that they were the cooks.

The voices became closer and closer to Penelle. She was dumbstruck. She didn’t know what to do. She could go back up. It was impossible to jump. Her stick gloves had ceased to function anymore.

The doorknob turned. Penelle’s breath caught.

To Be Continued...

***

T H E R E D I R I S
C h a p t e r F o u r
Escape

Rain poured down on her head, smudging her make up. Her hair hung down like rats' tails as she continued to pace quickly along the puddled pavement. She storm was strong but she could not let a small thing like nature's obstacles to stop her from her aim. Unless she didn't value her life, of course. Her ankles hurt from walking in her three inch high heels. More like high hells.

She continued walking. She reminded herself of her purpose. Of her goal. It didn't seem that important anymore that gloomy night. The streetlights were old and some of the lights were even flickering. She felt cold and numb. She wrapped her coat tighter around her arms. It was drenched in water and made her feel even colder.

The wind blew.

She shivered even more.

Finally, she reached her destination. She held the large black briefcase in her hands protectively, not that it would do her any good but it gave her a sense of security, a small shred of hope that she may go back to her family. She herself knew it was hopeless. She was only a *yellow eyed. They would throw her away after finishing using her.

She felt a tap on her shoulder.

She turned.

A gunshot.

Darkness.

***

Jacob shut his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket.

The murder of Ingrid Forester was not unexpected. At least to him.

He went back into The Red Iris.

A few pairs of eyes were on him. They were probably suspicious of his emerald green eyes. Which indicated his lack of rank. Most of them would have shrugged it off and assumed he was a rich commoner, an in-between.

He sat down on his usual seat at the bar.

The eyes were still on his back.

He ordered a drink and waited. It was not his turn in the little game yet. He knew, as every game player should know. If he moved out of turn and broke the unspoken rule, he would be eliminated.

Just like Ingrid Forester.

***

Penelle sighed inaudibly in relief.

It was a miracle that the cooks did not see her. She had merely stood behind a corner and yet they passed her without noticing.

A huge wave of paranoia took her by surprise.

What if they knew that she had escaped here instead of the opening in the air vent? The cooks not noticing her could have just been pretending they didn't.

Penelle shut her eyes tightly, trying to calm herself down. It was not an easy task as she was in a life-threatening situation, with no gadgets and most possibly; no back ups.

The cooks wore long sleeved shirts and ankle long dirty white pants. They also had a mask with no openings for their eyes, mouth or nose. The mask would have made them impossible to see, breathe or communicate in any way. Or so that is what an outside observer would have thought.

Penelle, on the other hand was no ordinary outside observer. Her ex-best friend was an inventor after all. And inventors tend to get their hands on these kind of unusual yet handy objects.

Someone put their hand on her shoulder.

Penelle could almost picture a wicked smile under the mask as she froze in horror.

***

Yean did not understand completely what she applied for when she saw the advertisement in the newspaper. She simply made an application and she was accepted. Her uniform arrived at her house by mail the next day. When she went to the assigned place, she was given a mask by a masked person. No one would be able to recognize each other because of the mask. She was not even sure what gender the person who gave her the mask was. The person's voice was rough and low. It didn't sound a slightest bit natural.

When she put on her mask and spoke, she found out her voice was exactly the same as well.

Yean didn't know why everything was so secretive for. She didn't want to find out. By all means, she should be thankful. She didn't need anyone to find out her true identity if she didn't want to go to prison.

Her mother prodded at her, inquiring about her job time after time. Yean had just used the standard reply for questions like these. "Okay."

Her mother would then stop asking about her job and sulk a little. Yean knew her mother better than she knew herself. She would recover almost immediately, chatting about her neighbors and all different types of gossip. Her mother, on the other hand, didn't really know Yean. For her, Yean was a perfect daughter, creating little illusions to cover Yean's flaws. But as all illusions will, Yean knew that her mother's little fantasy will soon be shattered.

Yean blinked as someone tapped her shoulder and pointed at the stove.

She nodded and began walking towards the giant fridge where she needed to take out a bottles of spices.

A year ago, Yean would always try to figure out why her employers, whoever they were needed such a secretive environment and the large amount of food she and her colleagues cooked. But now, she was experienced enough to follow the rule of the kitchens. Ask no questions and you won't get killed.

Yean was determined not to get killed.

***

"Looks like someone has been sneaking around..." the person behind her drawled softly.

Penelle began to regain her composure. No one noticed what was going on. At least, not yet. She gave a small smile and tried to flip the person over with all her strength. The person's weight slammed on the floor as if by slow motion.

By some stroke of luck, on that exact time, the microwave exploded. Everyone rushed to the microwave, trying to figure out the amount of damage done.

Penelle dragged the unconscious figure to her hiding place and began to take of the person's uniform, wearing it. The person was a woman around her mid thirties with red hair.

Just after she was done, she took a deep breath and put her last minute conducted plan into action.

"SPY! A SPY!!!"

***

He tried to concentrate again and again.

But Ricky failed. Every time he started to think up of something that would seem useful he would somehow be reminded of Penelle. Penelle had always helped him with his inventions, giving helpful suggestions here and there. They had been close friends, best friends. After he graduated and started to work for the Institution, they have drifted away.

He had sent his SOS signal. He had done his part.

He still felt nervous.

It was natural of course, to care for a friend. Who might be dead. Ricky felt guilty. He knew. It was not his fault. But he could have tried to change the Principal's mind by suggesting other candidates. Actually he did. Suggesting Chris Sanders was the first thing he did. Unfortunately, Chris Sanders was repeating his last year and didn't seem capable enough for the job. Then again, Penelle had just passed level three.

It was a fruitless thing to do, begging the Principal to change his mind. He, of all people should have known that above everyone else that the Principal was mind was set when he made a choice. He had over read the letters that were supposed to be sent to someone called Orlando which were sent to him by accident. He didn't see the name and address written on the envelope but just tore the envelope open and listened to the holograph from the principal. At the end, he took a new envelope identical to the previous one, stamped it, put in the contents of the letter he had received and sent it.

He had no idea why most people still used the twenty-first century word : letter as a make shift name to a holograph box. It didn't even look like a letter, according to an old picture he had found on the internet. The coloured picture was so old, the people in it didn't even move. He could never understand how people could survive in that time.

His beeper began to vibrate. He opened it quickly, anxious for some news on Penelle.

The principal's face appeared, looking old and withered.

"I have a job for you."

Ricky knew then by the tone of his voice that the job was no ordinary job of equipping students gadgets.

***

Yean was one of the last few who rushed to the scene of crime.

She didn't mind blood and gore. She was used to it when slaughtering animals for cooking. But she hated the way someone who was killed looked. Their eyes would usually would be wide open in shock or horror. The expression of fear, pain or intense hatred made her stomach turn.

Which was why she was ultimately relieved when the culprit was not dead, merely fainted.

"Why didn't you kill her?" accused someone at her left.

"Hey, if you are so partial to deaths, who don't you do it?" argued the one who discovered the spy. "I don't mind."

Yean shut her eyes, in case the one who spoke first suddenly drew a knife and hurled it at the woman's stomach.

If the person at her left responded in any way to the second speaker, Yean did not see it. Two of her 'colleagues' took the woman by her arms and dragged her to goodness knows where after giving a tiny, barely visible, nod to the person who found the red haired woman.

Silence filled the large kitchen again.

Yean was about to steam the chicken she had prepared when she noticed someone sneaked out of the kitchen. No one noticed, they were too absorbed into their work. Yean followed the exiting cook.

***

The Principal had finally reached Mr. Ricky Leon's beeper. It took a lot of passwords to get through. He regretted his sudden obsession with security a while back and decided to disable all the passwords when the whole thing messed up was over. IF the whole messed up thing could be over.

The letter had been of little help. Everything that was stated, he already knew. Except; for that little snippet of information about duplicates. Which had made everything slightly simpler. Most of the top members were duplicates. It was why when he had entered the Cobra's nest to sign the Magical contract. In fact, there was only one Mage in Cobra. Even the guy who kidnapped Penelle whom he recognized as Muetre* was a duplicate.

Just then he remembered a little something that Ricky had said to him about one of his new inventions.

**FLASHBACK**

"It's a Negative Fake. Sorry for the lack of original names... It wipes out fake copies of stuff. Like you know, disguises... It can delete masks, body make up, anything that makes someone appear to be someone else. Um... *blush* It does not wipe out clothes. Just masks! Really!"

**END OF FLASHBACK**

It was then when he made a decision to call Ricky and ask for his help.

***

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2005-07-29T16:01:25Z

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d) Chocolate syrup

BUY BIFLURRY FROM THE AFTERNOON SESSION ENGLISH SOCIETY ON CARNIVAL DAY!!!

rebecca_c @ 2005-07-29T23:46:00

2005-07-29T15:47:52Z

Okay fine, I'm being soft. But I can't help it.

I cannot believe that : according to Omar: a) Jing Li is a chest nut.
b) Jing Li said that Michelle is attractive because of her boobs. (Which I personally think are non-existent!!!)

Gah.

More rants in 'Friends' section.

Embarassment

2005-07-29T15:44:22Z

As of now, this journal will be made private; so that it can only be viewed by me as a product of a painful betrayal by someone I trusted. By the way, Khye Chwin:

From our class.
the one Omar hoped he doesn't like: Mei Yin
the other one that Omar thinks he likes: Melissa

OK everybody

2005-07-25T12:40:07Z

I lied to Keith that I had a crush on Kendrick (coz he asked when I put my nickname "Finally over a silly crush") so I'm making him pretend to be my bf to get free cookies. (Keith promised if I told him who I had a crush on he would dedicate cookies to me) So play along ppl!

How to fall out of love

2005-07-24T12:06:23Z

How to fall out of love (Article reposted without permission; dedicated to a certain friend I shall keep anonymous. DISCLAIMER: This article is not written by me)

By Paul McKenna, Ph.D., and Hugh Willbourn, Ph.D.

When you get out of a relationship, you find yourself suddenly on your own, rattling around with a set of habits built for two. You are used to coming home to someone in the evening, to having someone to discuss things with, to having someone to go out with. And whether you go in or stay out, you keep finding reminders of your ex all over your life.

Other habits are more subtle. They are the automatic patterns of thought, the pictures we make and the things we say to ourselves every day. When even a brief relationship ends, these patterns can still be running. We don’t mean to do it. We make ourselves unhappy by accident.

One of the most powerful ways to start mending your broken heart is to change the habits of your thinking. For example, part of being heartbroken is still feeling in love with how your ex used to be. It hurts because part of you is still attached to your ex. This exercise will help that part of you release itself from those painful feelings.

1. Recall five times you felt very in love with your ex and make a list of them, so you can easily call them to mind.

2. Start to recall the first memory again, then step out of it and move the image of that event away from you so that you can see yourself in the picture. Move the image away until it is small and the emotional intensity is reduced.

3. Drain out the color so that it is black and white, then make it transparent. When you look at the event like this it will seem like it is happening to someone else and the emotional intensity will be further reduced.

4. When you’ve finished, do the same with each of the other memories.

5. Next, spend some time remembering in detail five negative experiences with your ex-partner, where you felt very definitely un-attracted to them. Think of the times when they did something that really hurt you, turned you off or offended you.

6. Now take the least appealing memory and fully return to that moment. Go back and run through it all over again. Step into the memory so that you are seeing the things you saw, hearing the things you heard and fully feeling the things you felt all over again.

7. Now turn up the color and the clarity. Make the memory as bright and clear as you can and feel the feelings getting stronger and stronger.

8. Go through each of the other four memories and step into them. Carry on until you feel you have had quite enough of them and even the idea of thinking about them is totally unattractive.

Take your time over the exercise. Some people have found that doing this just once makes them feel totally different. Other people like to do it every day. To make sure the effect sticks, do it every day for two weeks. Each repetition will strengthen the neural pathways you create, so it gets easier and quicker until the feeling becomes automatic.

From the book How to Mend Your Broken Heart by Paul McKenna, Ph.D., and Hugh Willbourn, Ph.D. Copyright (c) 2003 by Paul McKenna and Hugh Willbourn. Published by Three Rivers Press.

Great

2005-07-24T06:35:48Z

I'm having a horrible problem with my eyes. I shouldn't be staring at the computer screen as well. My eyes sting all the time and it goes all small and squinty-like. I'm most probably going blind. Yay.

EXHAUSTED

2005-07-23T15:10:24Z

It's been a really long time since I went on lj. I'm too tired to type about what's been going on. Expect a long entry tommorow.

CHY lyrics

2005-07-18T07:00:47Z

Joy to the world,
Hui Yee has died,
Annoying pest has gone.
The world is purged
Of all evil
We'll all rejoice just then
We'll all rejoice just then
When oh when, Hui Yee has died.

- Written by mua.

Dedicated to Chan Hui Yee

rebecca_c @ 2005-07-16T22:42:00

2005-07-16T14:43:27Z

Ok, maybe I don't hate --- so much. It influenced --- I guess. After all, it was impossible to ---. I'm still --- though!!!

-- was put in because I was too lazy to make a lj-cut.

A little spoiler anyway, just because I'm feeling creative...

I thought he would redeem me.

I thought wrong.

It was I who snuffed out the only candle left in my darkness.

I have failed.

---

Severus Snape looked at Albus Dumbledore's grave, expressionless. He could barely see the golden letters engraved on the cold, white marble as the dark enveloped him. He couldn't help but reminisce about his mentor, the only one who had actually trusted him when he had joined the Order.

"The greatest journey of all, begins after death."

He could still remember his words, hoarse with age. His continuous twinkling blue eyes and his long beard that he had once hoarded fascination with when he was eleven.

The power of the Unbreakable Oath was weighed on his shoulders. As was the guilt of the one who truly cared.

He called himself the Half-Blood Prince, prided himself on being a Prince. He had never thought the once proud, arrogant sixteen year old would be reduced to the person he was now.

Even though Severus didn't believe in doing it, even though he thought that doing it was just a waste of time and effort; he formed the words of the incantation in his mind and waved his wand.

A beautiful bouquet of lavenders, entwined with deep purple ribbons (his favourite colour) appeared on his grave.

With a dramatic sweep of his robes, he left, his shadow trailing behind him.

***

-ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE-
-May your journey never end....

!!!

2005-07-16T14:30:44Z

This is getting incredibly annoying! First, HBP turned out not as I liked it to be - and Streamyx was having problems again!

%$#$@#$^@@#$@#@#@#$@##$#$%%^&^*%&*%&^$%$$^$#*$*&%^(%&$%^*^$%^*#$^@#$*@##$@*%^$* HALF-BLOOD PRINCE!!!!!!!!!!!&*^*(&%&^%&^&*%(^&*)

I CAN'T BELIEVE SEVERUS SNAPE KILLED DUMBLEDORE!!! FRIGGIN ASSHOLE HE IS! I HATE IT! I HATE IT! AND TO THINK I ACTUALLY LIKED SS/HG! %^$%^#$%$%@#%@#$#%%^!!!! F*** HIM!!!!!

Quotes that I'm going to steal...

2005-07-15T15:37:57Z

"I like life. It's something to do." - Ronnie Shakes
"We were born to die anyhow." -Mexican Proverb
"I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them." -Jane Austen
"An appeaser is one who feeds the crocodile, hoping it will eat him last." -Winston Churchill
"Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right." -John Donne
"Why attack God? He may be as miserable as we are." -Erik Satie
"Those who are too smart to engage in politics are punished by being governed by those who are dumber." -Plato
"Love your enemies in case your friends turn out to be a bunch of bastards." -R.A. Dickinson
"All that is gold does not glitter. Not all those that wander are lost." -J.R.R. Tolkien
"If you want an audience, start a fight." -Gaelic Proverb

You are outgoing. Socializing and communicating is
what you live for. Parties a heaven to you, an
making new friends is easy. This is good, but
you should learn to be comfortable alone as
well.

I hate to be obnoxious, but please rate.

What kind of girl are you? -great pics, many outcomes-
brought to you by Quizilla

If that is true, what am I doing on the internet?