Note: Haven’t written fictions in a long time. Me is getting rusty, ne? Just a simple fiction, but do endeavour to enjoy it.

Had enough rambling, on with The Night Child: Throat.

———-

"Munchkin?"

A pebble came his way and he thanked his extreme cat-like reflex in dodging it. He turned his head over his shoulder and watch the pebble bounce on the roof. He turned back to pout at the thrower.

"You know, that one could have hit my perfect nose." He took a seat on her right. A metre and a half away, just to be safe.

She gave him a smug look that clearly meant it was intended.

"So, how was your day, munchkin?" Another pebble wheezed past his left ear. He grinned.

A death glare. This time, the words ‘leave me or shut it.’ were clearly etched upon her face.

"Aw, cold tonight, aren’t we?" He leaned on the roof with his arms crossed behind his head.

Silence ensued and he glanced tentatively at his stubborn neighbour. As usual, she sat on the roof hugging her knees and her chin laid contentedly on top of her kneecap. The usual deep blue blanket was wrapped around herself.

"Don’t you wash that thing?" He gestured with his pouted lips towards her blanket.

Silence ensued.

"Munchkin?" He braced himself for any flying pebble. Fortunately yet strangely, none came. He blinked. He sat up slowly, slightly taken aback at her not retorting in anyway at him calling her that nickname.

"You okay?"

She glared at him with the corner of her eyes.

"Oh?" An eyebrow arched up. He watched as she repeatedly throw a pebble up in the air and catch it.

Silence ensued. She merely stared ahead, her eyes roaming everywhere except at him.

"You’re not seeing someone else, are you?" He asked with mock disappointment.

She remained completely silent.

Feeling suddenly unease, he slowly peeked at her face. As usual, the stoic girl was expressionless. Her eyes shone slightly and they roamed the whole area overlooking the neighbourhood they live in.

He mimicked her posture. “I’m not used to be ignored.” 

He waited for her reply patiently and for a full minute, only the whispering of the wind and the yowling of cats could be heard breaking the silence of the breezy night. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He asked softly.

She yawned and blinked twice to moisten her eyes.

Okay, so that didn’t work. How to make this stubborn kid talk? Plan B.

He fumbled for that pack of M&M he kept in his pocket. “Now where is that bliddy chocolate…” he muttered slowly, just audible enough for the words to reach her ears.

She heard the word chocolate, he was very positive of that. Yet she kept impassively ahead and threw her last pebble towards a cat trying to pee on her gate.

He took out the azure packet of M&M, the one with crispy biscuit inside. It was his favourite and hers as well. He tore it swiftly and smacked his lips. “Ah, the perfect snack on such a beautiful night.”

He put one inside his mouth and chewed. She merely leaned her forehead on top of her folded hands.

Two more were popped in. No response.

Four more were chewed. A sudden chilly breeze swept his hair and he saw her tightening her blanket around her.

“Seriously, you haven’t utter one word tonight.” He gentlemanly gesture the packet towards her. “What have I done to receive your silent treatment?”

No response.

“Dear me,” he slowly tapped her shoulder. “You’re not sleeping on me, are you? It’s only-” he glanced at his digital Levi’s watch on his left wrist. “-12.08.”

She tilted her head upwards and opened her eyes slowly. She turned to face her unwavering neighbour who had a slight concern look on his face. Her lips twitched upwards and she stretched her hand towards him.

He grinned and obliged to her silent request for some M&M. She mouthed a thanks and popped one into her mouth.
“So, wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

She faced him and cleared her throat. Twice. He waited, popping M&M’s one at a time.

“Sore throat.” Her curt voice broke the silence. He frowned. She coughed twice.

Standing up, he grabbed her arm and started to push the startled girl back towards her open bedroom window.

“What the hell were you thinking, staying out on chilly night when you have a sore throat, munchkin?”

“Hey-” She coughed and made a move to protest but he effortlessly pushed her towards the window, forcing her to climb in.

“I can’t believe you’re so careless!” He shook his head, auburn hair swaying left to the right. “And here I thought I’m the childish one between us!”

“I take no orders from you.” She glared and coughed twice.

“See, munchkin?” His shook his head, arms akimbo. “Your throat’ll get worse if you get cold. Listen to me; I’m older by four years!”

She tsked and crossed her arms. “I’m more matured by eight.” She coughed heavily this time. She sauntered towards her nightstand and took a sip out of a glass of water there.

“You are the most hopeless munchkin I’ve ever met.” He shrugged and turned to leave. “Don’t stay up late.”

She coughed in reply.

“Oh, and munchkin?” He peered through the open window and threw the packet of M&M towards her.

She absentmindedly caught it without even glancing back. He grinned and pocketed his hands. “Night, munchkin.”

A glare at the annoying nickname followed her curt nod as she closed her window shut.

———-

This may be a series of enjoying life on rooftops, as I like to call it. The two characters may remain anonymous until Fate gives me the needed pang of ideas.

Truthfully, the only names I can come up with are Mitsui, Kaoru and Haru.

Till then, Allah bless, odaijini.

SPM is still in session but I felt like putting something right. Pardon me.

I met Kak A’isyah today as she and Maryam-chan went to visit us at Maahad Pengajian Islam [us SMIans had our SPM there]. As we talked and talked, she asked me about the guy I hated a couple of posts back.

The thing with me is I lack emotion. Even if I had, it’ll be temporary. I suppose that fact is proven for my junior [Ali-san, to be exact] once commented in passing that I "hardly know what feelings are."

I can’t stay mad for a long time. If you irk me and I officially declare I hate you, I’m most likely to have you back on my good book once we had a decent, sarcasm-free conversation. One that doesn’t involve any party raking up the past.

And we [me and that guy] had a rather lengthy talk on future of aeroscience, the spitball of current politics and whatsit and just like that, the hatred was lifted.

With one exemption, though. There is an idiot I still hate. Him and only him. May he rot in hell if he refuse to repent.

And why am I writing this? For my future reference, I suppose. I have to write down my thoughts or it’ll get lost amongst other things I have in mind.

I can’t get me. I’m officially clueless about myself, except the fact that I live for Him, I love my family, love my books, my bed, my bags, my Zen-san, my…

Good day, people. Be blessed and enjoy your day.

Actually, I’m scared. I’m scared that my SPM result will be more abysmal than my already abysmal Trial result.

I’ve tried to calm myself down, but I’m still not convinced. Even if I share this one thought out to any random person, I’m positive she or he will tell me the exact same thing I keep repeating to myself.

What’s the point of listening to empty thought again and again?

Note: I miss my blog! It’s been ages since my last rambling, and I miss the feeling of hitting my fingertips on the keyboard.

This post will be the last until the SPM is over for good. I am so going to miss my blog! T~T

*wipe tears* You guys didn’t seriously think I’m crying over petty things, right? If you do, a severe beating to the face should do the trick. On with the post.

—–

My parents have just arrived from Cameron Highland and I’ve stuffed my tummy half-full with strawberries, sweet corns, strawberries, dried Roselle, strawberries, fresh sweet vegetables [yummiest!] and more strawberries. There’s more, I think. And there’s even some strawberry juice.

Hazim, Yaya and Hakim went with them. I, of course, stayed at home for obvious reasons.

They brought back four potted plants. Mom said to me just before Maghrib. "Kak ngah, would you like to keep a plant?"

I stared at her in disbelief. "Mom, my SPM is tomorrow. Of all things I have to do, you’re asking me about keeping a plant??"

For the record, my dearest Percy the turtle ran away on me. I don’t think that plant will make it through the first week of being under my care.

"You don’t have to watch plant 24-7." Dad interrupted with a grin. "Just plant and water it."

"I’m so very busy at the moment." I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Won’t you give it a try?" Mom asked. "I bought them for my friends. There’s one extra. If you don’t want, I’ll give it to someone else."

"Hmm." I touched my chin thoughtfully. Kakashi had a potted plant called Mr. Ukki. I suppose having a potted plant won’t be half that bad.

"Okay, I’ll keep it." I declared. "I’ll name it Cik Tama."

Their reactions?

Mom:  -_-”

Dad:  ^^"

Don’t ask what kind of plant Cik Tama is. All I know is that it’s a non-flowery plant, with long green waxed leaves and a brownish stem. 

I think naming things are cool. My watch’s name is Kaede, my MP3 is Zen-san, and I have bags named Hantenmaru, Uryuu, and Naruto. 

And my soon-to-be potted plant’s name is Cik Tama, but you can call it Tama-san or Miss Tama.

Have a greater day than mine, everyone!

p/s:

1. I am under the impression that you guys have learn to live with the fact that I’m weird.
2. SPM starts tomorrow, for sure. Prayers and more prayers are more than appreciated. And not forgetting wishes of good luck.
3. I hereby wishes myself good luck and hope that I’ll get through this turn of event in one piece.

Remember the dream I wrote a couple of posts back? In the dream, she asked something unrelated to me and I answered. Having heard my answer, she left.

Well, it sort of materialized to life. She called me, had her message across and hung up.

I had no room to say anything except nod, laugh a bit, and said thanks.

Ouch. So much for communicating.

First, an apology is in order. The past posts were influenced by hormones, so do excuse me.

Today was a special day for us Form 5. There was a Majlis Restu Ilmu (MRI) down at Dewan Gelanggang Seni, and the ceremony was a blast!

I looked forward to the ceremony since a week before, since I missed my own Majlis Restu Ilmu when I was Standard 6.

Head, Vice Head 2, Ehsan and Farhan sang two songs with enthusiasm, but I didn’t gave their performance any heed, actually. I was busy busying myself with anything worthwhile.

Remember the guy I was mad at? Well, he grinned and spoke to me. Rather nicely and that took me by surprise. Well, I suppose it’s the soft side of me who grinned back and talked nicely at him, instead of giving him one of my infamous death glare.

I didn’t just admit I have a soft side, did I? Oh, I did.

Still, I won’t talk to him unless initiated by the other party.

Hmm, as usual, I listened to the speeches given by the elders, and Ustaz Omar’s was rather interesting. And Head’s.

Head talked on behalf of us Form 5, spontaneously blabbing [don't kill me, Head. If I die, who's gonna make fun of you?] about the teachers’ and parents’ sacrifices in bringing out the best in us. And a lot more.

The food served was rather delicious, I suppose. I was never a food critic, but I do know how to enjoy a good meal. And the daging kicap was tasty despite its rather thick gravy.

The souvenirs each of us received consisted of a clear folder, a face towel [mine's purple] and the Book.

The Book compiled all the teachers’ name, address, motto and you-know-what as well as the students of Form 5. I gave mine to all classmates and teachers and had them to write a small advice specially for me and autograph under their respective names.

Aiman Ibrahim was the first to write in my book. He obliged and asked for duit raya.

I said I’ll give it to him on Sunday.

His message? Semoga hidup diberkati. Jangan lupa kami semua.

Owh, who’s gonna forget the hoary guy with afro-like hair? [I've told him yesterday to cut his hair, but he showed up at the ceremony in his bushy head, grinning, "Tak sempat nak kerat semalam."]

I’m evil, I know.

Ehsan’s message: Sediakan duit syiling sebelum tiba di tol lebuhraya.

Izzat’s: Berhati-hati di jalan raya.

What is it with guys and jalan raya, eh?

The banats’ message, you might ask?

Nikochan wrote: Good luck!

Man, I felt like biting her head off. To think that she replied my four line of message with two words?

Nikchan’s message was inspiring: Allahuakbar!

Faezah’s was… creative? She wrote in riddles and I yet to decode it.

Zainab wrote: Atiqah, mari kita bersama menegakkan Islam!

Bob was down with chickenpox and couldn’t make it to the ceremony.

And I wrote a message to myself, too. Fool around and I’ll show you some wrath!

Scribbled somewhere down the page…

I love me!

I don’t think I’ll be able to forget them. I think I like my classmates. I can see myself ten years from now, laughing my head off as I remember my school hood.

School’s ain’t that bad, if you got the right company. And when you minus out one irritating guy.

p/s:

Kak Radja, Kak Tyrah and Kak Marhan were the guest of honour.

I asked that irritating guy to write in my book. He said, "Nanti dekat sekolah la." Yeah, right. I’m not talking to you at school!

I’m still forbidden from  the laptop. Blame the rebellious side of me. [which comprise of 94% of me, haha]

Okay, I’ll go sleep now. Thanks for your time and have a blessed day.

I’ll just beat about the bush, this time.

I’m grounded. I am prohibited from surfing online until SPM is over. Which is on 4th December 2007.

Why? Well, it’s because of my SPM Trial result. I got 2 A2 and 1 B3.

A2’s are Biology and English for Science and Technology.

Arabic is B3.

Fate must be laughing at me.

So, what am I doing here? Well, it’s currently 1.51 in the morning and parents are asleep.

I have to tend to my needs, too.

Should go now; I’m accustomed to waking up to smack my adorable handphone cum alarm clock at 5 a.m.

Have a great day, everyone.

p/s: For the remaining 9 subjects for Trial SPM, I got A1. Gotcha.