Tami Hoag - Secrets to the grave

Now, i'm on with my long-term holiday which whirlpool of boredom and twinge of halfheartedness drain me all out but i have borrowed this novel from the library and the description at the really front page is quite strikingly driving me attentive!

This is how's it going..

The house stood by itself back off the road in a field of dried golden grass, half ridden by spreading oaks. An amalgam of styles- part Spanish, part ranch- the once- white stucco building was weathered in a way that made it seem a part of natural surroundings, as if it had grown up out of earth and belonged there as much as any of the hundred-year-old trees.

The scene was a plain air painting,  soft and impressionistic: the golden grass, the dark trees, bruise-purple mountains in the background, and the whisper-blue sky strewn with long, thin, pink-tinted clouds; the small white house with its old tile roof. On the other side of the mountains the sun had begun its descent toward the ocean. Here, the day seemed to have paused to admire its own perfection. Stillness held the landscape enraptured.

Nothing gave away a hint of what lay within the house.

The driveway was a path of dirt and crushed rock with grass and weeds sprouted up the the middle like the mane of a wild pony. Falling-down fences the colour of driftwood created the lane between two overgrown pastures that had once been home to cattle and horses.

A vintage Woody station wagon well past its glory days was parked at a casual angle near an open shed full of rusted farm equipment. An old Radio Flyer red wagon had been abandoned near the front porch with an orange tabby cat sitting on it, waiting for a ride. On the porch two kittens played peekaboo among overgrown pots of parched geraniums and kitchen herbs. One propped herself up on the screen door and peered into the house, then squeaked and leapt and dashed away, tails straight up in the air.

Inside the house nothing moved but flies.

A horrible still life had been staged on the Saltillo tile kitchen floor. A woman lay dead, her hair spreading out around her head like a dark cloud. Her skin was the colour of a milk. Her lips had been painted as red as a rose- as red as her blood must have been as it drained from the wounds carved into her flesh.

She lay discarded like a life-size broken doll- made up, torn up and cast aside, her brown eyes cloudy and lifeless.

Beside her lay a smaller doll-her child- head resting on her shoulder, face streaked with the last of her mother's life's blood.

The flies buzzed. The wall clock ticked above the sink.

The telephone receiver dangled near the floor, stenciled with small bloody fingerprints. The last words spoken into it were a whisper still hanging in the air: 'My daddy hurts my mummy...'

A tinge of suspense hanging in the trail of the air enticing me to flip on pages to see how it would end and it's really exciting and enthralling! This author is the new york times number one bestselling author after flanking it to the cover adding with three lines of sub-headline that serves a heady spice for sending a scintillating thrill down my bottomless pit of my spine that predisposes me to take on reading.

The crime is unspeakable.
The secrets are unfathomable.
The only witness is a child.

I like reading but i would have a dilemma in choosing a better book for reading and i wouldn't want to be regretted if the book seems so boring to me.

Anyway, i have something to read for this holiday and i'm sure i would try my best take it all in me!

I wonder if i have settled in form 4 life.
Someone told me that it's a brand new life and i doubted it.
But then, I won't doubt it again.
It's only tiring and another dreadful world.
With a resigned sigh, I would have to bend myself resiliently in this so unpleasant circumstances.
I know i have to grow mature and that's life i have to learn, never stop learning.
Learning from the past, I have slaved away my youth for life of me taking up extreme studies.
and every now and then, I try sparing time at facebook but it's about to be impossible.

Hello 2012

Yesterday was new year eve and what I did when all the people standing overjoy with a new year come was wheezing sleeping.

I first decided to go countdown but my mum didn't approve since we would have to gear up for tomorrow morning worship. So, I stayed at home watching tv then went sleeping unexpectedly early.

This morning I went to church and I eye only a few people I could count on the fingers of one hand. I could guess that those people might have been to countdown last night.

Anyway, my new year doesn't seem special for me. It's just as usual as the other mundane Sunday.

My resolution for 2012 are:
1) Become a sociable person, get rid of my introversion. (barely possible)
2) Become sporty (involve in one sport at least)
3) Have my pimples cured.

Can't think of others right now but I will add on soon!

Happy New year everyone! Have a great days in 2012!

How life lived through the Greatest Love of All

Yesterday my sister came out with a problem required me to really mulling over how to deal with so-as I do hope so- it could be out of the way . That problem was what I had tried so much to shun and still, it couldn’t always be in the condition I left. It’s all about social problem.

I know I have only a few friends to live my life and that’s the thing I give way to helpless misery. She said I was an utterly different person when I went outdoors, compared to being at home. At home, I could flung off any anxiety and going happy-go-lucky and on the contrary, she didn’t see one time of my face wasn’t lodged in a worried line over my anxious eyes when I was outside.

‘So, you always have to be set in your way of putting on mask to live your eternity?’ it’s a rhetorical question instead of a statement.

I think I really do good in concealing my really hideous identity but actually it fails to the extend that I feel I’m doing nothing but to mocking myself. To reserve remoteness towards others' way of thinking is a tough thing to do. I think myself could have easily done presenting myself affably and maturely in peoples’ perspective of view.

My hideous identity is a foolish clown making people laugh the whole way and would not let them stop thinking of making fun at me like a freak. The hell don't they know how frail my self-esteem and dare to shatter it so cruelly. Every night thinking of my stupid childhood life has made me recoiling in the waves of pains and fears that have only lapped at me before now and I could bet them rear high up and wash over my head, pulling me under.

Time passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but passes it does. It’s unfortunately to say but, it has perforated a hole in my chest, a very negative impact in my life bigger even larger than you can imagine. It’s bad to have plague in the very past, flashing now and maybe the future that I couldn’t seem to shake.

I know it’s all too abstract and only profession in psychology can help to bring a solution in due course. I am so lucky and blessed to have a religion I have hold to. God have always been the refuge during the most painful spasm. If I have recognised it, I could have foreseen my prospective future. It’s so negative that I could have been psychopaths, drug-addict or even worse. I can feel my gloomy future as I- now and then- having a gnawing  craving raging inside me which never been quenched out of the way. This desire coming up against me from my discontented mind every time I feel no sense of security which always picking up from disorientated emotion that I would have to quench it right at the moment.

It’s inexplicable but so true in every sense of my whole sinew. Thank God, He’s always my safe harbour and He’s always IS. His plans are far better than my destiny. Because of His love, I learned to hold Him tight and never let go.

I wouldn’t know exactly how long would it take for my aberrant behaviour to end and without any idea I could know how long would it take for myself to phase mutation. I would not like to put anyone around me out and I was trying to learn fending for myself. I should take life as challenges and live it to the fullest. But first and upon of all, I should learn to love myself only by the grace of God. And it always should, taking and giving the greatest love of all.

http://hk.myblog.yahoo.com/jw!whHowkyRHxuooBLc7ETmsc.dVrpg/article?mid=195

When I watched this really short clip, I paused for a while before I continued. I could feel the pain they had in their lives and how they emerged through the adversity they had. It's only by the grace of Lord they survived from the excruciating pain. The excruciating spasm they had was nothing but devoid of the most integral part in lives: parental love. I could not deny the inestimable spasm they had experienced without the vital love of all.. But there's the most vital of all, God's love which we could get it neither any effort nor price, but confessed to Lord we were sinners and responded to God's love.

No one and nothing could deny the orphans' refuge in the most horrible storm they had. It's because God loved without reasons, mended their broken hearts, and filled the starvation of their souls.

Fun Trip at Borneo Rainforest

 

I still remember the evocative trip at Borneo Rainforest Resort. Plentiful wilderness.

First of all, the students were told to assemble at somewhere around Block A or between Block B and Block C. I think is just them altogether.

We got on the bus, and I was still straggled behind the crowd anyway. We were all aboard in the bus and they were all in riotous laughter, and the party so was perked up!

First, the bus was organized and well-controlled for only its halfway before we were on a bumpy ride. When the bus went across untamed ground, the back seats of the bus bounced upwards on the spur of the moment, and the passengers seated at the back extolling how the ride rocked! Elisha was bantering with his peers sometimes interspersing with loud hoots of amusement.

After the bumpy ride that caused butterflies' assaults in my stomach, the students got off the bus, spreading themselves all out. Then, we took snapshots and went into the resort blithely. The workers there invited us affably at the resort; but somehow, some of the employees were seemed no genteel civilities. They groaned it’s too crowded. But anyway,  that’s excusable.

We then sent to a hall that had simply equipped with basic outdoor games equipment. Great, the students started their impromptu games instead, yet it lasted no longer when the employees came at last and gave speeches about the safety precautions in the forest which I couldn't afford to listen nearly or mostly everything as where I seated was further back.

Then, it's time for watching the short clip prepared by the workers there. It's blunt, yet short, in a way better than the long speeches that driven us to slumber. Whatever it was presented would not be a big deal because we would not get any trouble if we stayed closer with the workers there. Then, we were aboard some kind of transport, like a coach with no doors or windows but a windshield instead. There're also four humongous monstrous-truck-like wheels and a driver seated in the cockpit.

Then, there's barely even a seat after the students wrestled to go aboard the coach. I was too slow in a tortoise motion, and so ended up sitting between ladies. I viewed the scenery there. It was beautiful. There were insects of varied kinds and myriad fauna everywhere. Linley whose seat was beside me was taking photos of the people at the back seemed bland with the flora and fauna surrounded her. She said she was getting sick with the plants and invertebrate insects that she had seen in her 15 years life. Esther was chattering with her friend, Sherry, also seemed no interest at the tropical scenery. I slumped back to the seat and listened to the indigenous worker who was in substantially dark complexion fudged a little about the tour euphoniously but actually sounded otherwise.

I rather enjoyed the impressive scene there. There's precipice of mountains, evergreen shrubs, palm oil farm and the list went on. The serene ambience soothed me into composure I sought for.

Then the transport's engine stalled before the outré exclamation from some students directed a lake with green water to the forefront of our view. We then went aboard the deck of the man-made motorboat. And for safety precaution, we would have to put on the mildewed life-jacket. I regretted after donning the orange musty-smelled life-jacket. We were surprised to peek so many fishes swimming by our boat in the mottled green water. The sweet breath of the soothing wind fanned across my cheek and it snapped away all my frets. Some photographers took many picturesque snapshots of the majesty of swimming fishes jolted against each other for the scattering food.

Then, we went to somewhere below the tarred road. We had to go down the stairs there and our intrigued eyes were still intent on the nature's beauty.  We saw sparkling-clean water splashing down from the crevice of the rocks and maybe between brackens. Wan pei took an opened umbrella and held it under the falling water, whipping the water into eddies around her. She's exultant about it.

Then, we went jungle trekking. Borneo rainforest provided trekking tracks in the jungle for avid people enjoying wilderness galore in the nature's embrace. Yes, I couldn’t help but admitted for sure that never before had I used to have the opportunity to do this. I came across flora of hundreds or thousands kinds and we were still unsatisfied with the outlook but to search for more. I picked up the air was quite humid since my perspied chest hove to inhale and exhale for having my lungs a workout. Then, we saw some monkeys that might be caught there during their enjoyable freedom in the jungle. They made so many way-out moves in the cage that amused us. In a negative perspective of view anyway, so bad they were in custody.

Then, we passed by a bridge dangling high from the ground below, but we were unfortunately couldn't experience walking on it. Anyway, we went to the latest construction of the Borneo Rainforest and it's the swimming pool! Whenever I passed across the wooden bridge, I felt very scared as to stand on a wobbled wood under my feet. I was feeling like staggering my feet in mid-air.


Then, I knew people who had paid for playing water in this swimming pool, they would be having fun I wouldn’t seem to experience.

Then, we went jungle trekking again. Time wore on very slowly, and probably had worn me out. I felt exhausted after padding on the long bridge. Seeing farther from the bridge, we caught the resort building in sight. The worker held our attentions that we had to go on only inches to the resort for once and the walk would be so soon over. The people walking about in decades were all starved and sagging over for more walking. Feeling it's too lifeless when the distance walked off our feet.

Then, we saw foods like squadron of tiger packs met stags. lunch time! Walking a long bridge and two staircase were worth to have this as our rewards. And the most integral part I thought was the room was air-conditioned for us whose bodies had been drenched by sweat uncomfortably. The girls all squealed in frenzied intensity and rushed into the room which held invisible opened arms for us. Then, we put down backpacks, bags and everything and then sprinted for foods in quick shot. The foods which i thought was unlimited was otherwise limited, and it felt stifling in the air-conditioned room after sudden influx of people from different groups strained the space of rooms to its limit as to come for the party. I knew it's so bad.

Then, we assembled at hall again. The teachers geared students who had paid for playing in the swimming pool gathering then scurried all the people in order to the swimming pool. I went overboard to see those people playing water. Then, I decided to go by following those people. When I scooted there, the men stripped off their tops unabashedly before heaving  themselves into the waiting cold water. The teenage guys in the pool buffeted by the strong undulated current the divers made. The waves rammed the people in water back and forth as if determined to share by pulling into halves.

There was a slide built high in the air about 12 metres high or sketchily higher. A couple groups of girls who already snuck a change of clothes went against the extreme height and wasn't seemed pinning down by the pressure. Then, when they slid down so quickly that the bodies flung round and round like a rag doll, their shrill squeak wafted distantly into watchers’ ears, jarring them ferociously into shreds, then instantaneously spraying big white clouds of pool foam in the air. The lanky built peers slid from different sides of slides-in catatonic shocks- pounded together at the convergence before plunged into the water with no less outpouring thrill. I was a heartbeat away from them until the icy beads were striking against my face and arms. I ought to feel an ounce of coolness.

Some of my friends were playing flying fox. I didn't know much about it but only what I knew was that the individual had to slide from the higher brink to the lower outcrop. Taking away all the craven attributes they had, they’d geared up so much for not paralyzing with extreme heights. Hopefully they strapped with parachute or else they might quail with large mass of fears. I heard that roughly from my other friends which so only could I vaguely visualised.

I thought it's fun but unfortunately it did cost. And it's wet blanket for who I was so stingy in so many ways. I wouldn't bother to see the people playing flying fox, but i just a little listless to manoeuvre the uneven ground before reaching there.

Then, i wanted to phone mum to send me back home in an exact time which was 4.30pm. However, a slight mishap proved that there wasn't any connection line as we are at where a place situated around green forest. I loped around the serpentine lane for any signals of connection until i stomped back to the resort alone. I phoned mum while the menacing bank of clouds churned sluggishly in the sky before I picked it up. I apprehended it in a blink before i trudged back to the swimming side where my backpacks situated. Till arriving there, I could feel it’s slightly drizzling and people already strained at the leash to returning to the hall. I ripped my glance off from the unacquainted faces flitted with enigmatic range to rake for my bag.

Distant images seen smeared through a downpour under my opened umbrella. Somehow i managed to shelter under a refuge where the rainwater pelted upon the roof. Running by swaying and leaning trees and enduring the whipping of strong gust of wind, I was able to strain every nerve and arrived at the hall where i had seen in the first place.

We gathered and crumbled into groups. Then, we all huddled against one another to rush headlong in the direction to the bus for a better seat. We filed in the beeline and headed into the welcoming door. After got onto the bus, I lolled over a comfy velveteen seat beside the window. The rain picked up and it poured down exactly I expected after drawing the drapes. Peers all drained out and gave way to tempting slumber when the bus en route back for school. Stuffy and uncomfortable, I mouthed silenced goodbye to the resort where only memorable moments could bind tautly inside mind of the my very soul.

I shot the last glance out the vaporized window to the resort blurred by sheeting rain before it finally got out of sight.

Victory. I was never been so happy than victory. All the PMR exams were claimed to be the past. I was glad to say that I'm one of the survivors. It was truly 煎熬 (torment), like it sung by Jess Lee, the outstanding singer from the Chinese Million Star. She was rebuked by audience about her high-pitch was kindly ear-piercing, though i thought it's all otherwise.

Yet, I was obsessed with New Moon, sequence of Twilight and i wondered if it's better to watch the movie rather reading it or the other way round.. I finished Twilight about months ago and i thought that New Moon was equally engrossing. I would have in my halfway flipping pages.

Now, the Form 3's students were busy with those PASCA thing and it's bothered to me anyways. PASCA was compulsory to all Form 3's student but I'm not dealing with it otherwise, I chose reading instead. It's much boring than some common clubs that I had known through. However, to escape is much harder than the literal means, as those stupid AJK were around our corner of eyes.

They plagued me from the outside to the inside, but i was pleased to escape successfully. And i heard from some other people- much older than the others and in the age like me- although differed from only about 1 year and months- scolding those 'young kids' as they forced them to anticipate. I was to agree with her disapproval except for the deroatory slurs anyway.

It still have some days to go but I preferably not to go for PASCA tomorrow to the extend that i deserve demerits. Hope i can arouse from slumber lately as possible.