The Soap

The Soap

I penned down lust, on paper shreds

     As entirely known by humanity, the indiscriminate facts of leisure and prohibiting the pleasurable flows of lust is a mockery whether publicly or in a unison state of awareness. Some people do actually think of the consequences and were strictly attentive to the mistakes and banes into understanding the world as a whole. Of all malignancy could bring, this story will only contemplated on one fellow; Mr Andrew Baker. He was a character of a mischief pleasure, in a tale of an amenity to survive a distorted life.

  Mr Baker had been lurking around the aisle, pointing out opinions in reluctance. He himself had only realized that how the openness of society demanded him to cower in his defenceless rendezvous. His demeaning favour in sodomy and lustful intention to boys at work really does have an effect on him. The creamy sensational independency was a fool’s distraction and the damn they gave to him was rather annoying; he thought, let it be in secrecy, he did not want anyone else to know, except for his loved ones. In this open society, people always come to him; questioning, disturbing him almost in every nick of his time. He did not flicker, he answered them all.

   “Mr Andy, want to have lunch?” all apart from one, his secretary, Harold Lim; a Chinese man, 5 feet 8 inches lad.

   “Don’t mind if I do” he grinned. He was always so comfortable with Harold, he loves to hear stories from him, and to spend time with him is a moment he awaits every single day. Lunch was always so exquisite.

  After lunch, he pulls out of the eatery. His tears broke in the car, flowing down almost meanderingly.

..…..

    The next day, as Mr Andy proposed earlier, he wanted to convey his thoughts to Harold; he wanted Harold to experience the love he had been longing to propel. Inexplicably, that particular day, Harold was absent from work, he asked almost everyone for him, but no one have any idea on his whereabouts. Harold was not at work for the next day and the day after.

    Mr Andy was very fragile indeed, after 4 weeks of Harold’s absents, he could not really take it anymore. In one of those days, he met a new man; a seductive lad from DYMK, a drinking establishment in Neil Road. They met in a lustrous state of affairs; Mr Andy was smoking Chocolate of Madelaine Gold, sipping Cognac as his Chocolate smoulders. Not long after that, a handsome fellow approached his cubical, putting on a soothing smile, allocating his warmth around Mr Andy, he was a young adult from his twenties, with shimmering blue eyes and a flaxen blond crown – he was a beauty and Mr Andy agreed. Soon he learned that his name was Jack, Jack reflected the loving warmness in Harold’s face.

   Moments after that, they started to mingle; they starting to know each other, learnt each other’s feelings and in those few hours they also treated each other’s lust, exchanging jokes and unveiling flirts. This guy really gives him an arousal, Mr Andy will only dreamed for his smooth lips, his overall cute behaviour, those caring side of his and his sweet words. His handsome figure was a plus. He knew it at this very encounter, he need to bring him home.

…….

    “Taxi,” a Malay-driven taxi pull over to his side of the pavement, inviting him and supposedly Jack into the executive taxi. “Drive me to Tanjong Pagar please,” he ensured.

    “All right sir.” The driver replied, leaving a disgusted look on both of them, which were as if glued together in immense adoration. Chauffeuring drunken men had been a very lethargic job for taxi drivers in that area; comforting and picking up folks from Neil Road was always so troubling, especially to the Malays who were the exact opposition to LGBT, let alone in a country which openly accepted this kind of people. After a few turns, the driver stopped in front of the Tanjong Pagar Plaza and drove off in a hasty manner. 

      In sober, Mr Andy led Jack’s way to Yan Kit Road, one of his reserved condo in The Arris (an upscale loft type condominium) was still available, he lighted his chamber and steered him on his silk mattress. Jack woke up and suddenly recognized the man holding him, in a close embrace; Mr Andy was slithering around him, groping around his exposed flesh. Jack liked this kind of treatment; he then sensually kissed Mr Andy’s bumpy lips and has a taste of his tongue, his tongue was warm and stiff at the same time. Things were about to get real when impulsively Mr Andy backed off. He made an excuse to go to the toilet, although in a very profound state of denial, Jack let him go. His breath was fluctuating, sweats swarm all over his naked body. 

    Then, he mysteriously smelt something, he could not recognize it, but it felt awful. It was a pain to his nasals; he got up, and searched the cubicle for the source. He opened the cupboard, drawers and even looked outside the windowpanes, but had found nil. All of a sudden, the smell came back to him and it was really sickening, it came from under the bed. He leaned to the bedside, approached it slowly and pulled the beddings off. In astonishment, he saw a head lying under the bed - a rotten human head, it was dark and the hairs were left to strains, there was no uplift on the face, everything went down, all of the features were distinctively dead, Jack cried his lungs out. All of a sudden; a figure rushed for him, hugging him from behind. He was big, and held him tight enough so that it was hard for him to let loose. Jack trembled in fear and tears started pouring down his cheeks. He looked up and shivered, he was held by Mr Andy himself. Mr Andy bent down, got a gentle bite on Jack’s left ear, and licked the tears on his cheek. He said, “You are going to be okay sweetheart…”

…….

     A couple of months later, the state’s police had taken Mr Andy into custody. He was then accused of three murders; his secretary, Harold Lim, a tax officer, Jacob Mosey and a businessman by the name of Imran Razlan. All these victims were found with no parts from their body except Imran. He said nothing during the appeal session, but in court, while his tears appeared visible from his seat, he mentioned, “I ate them so that I can immortalize their love inside me, but in all extend, I am still human, and I can’t eat them whole... I love them, I really do, to make sure they are still with me and still in love with me, I kept their heads as to where they had shown their love… ”

mY m0st HaTEd n0veL

"Tick," the clock is ticking slowly on the wall - in a much slower pace than before; leaving this boring 'me' unattached to the things Pn Fatimah said. Her conclusions about Madera, Lektuan, Jidin Omar and almost every character in the boring old 'Bukit Kepong' is getting on my nerves. Pn Fatimah is cool and Bahasa had always been one of my subjects, but it is just 'Bukit Kepong' that makes this day just a plain boring one. I do not know what to expect from this novel accept for it to be boring boring boring and more - it was like a huge chunk of boredom being laid at the peak of your cranium. So annoyingly boring, actually i had no attention and prior at all to write this post. It is just that, i want to say it from the bottom of my heart, "i will never love Bukit Kepong as a novel."

postscript: (as a syllabic text. Ermmm maybe )

i was given a task to end an essay with "I regretted the decision for the rest of my life", and the result is...

CHOICES

The rough intolerant wind was really giving Danny a gyp. He was cold, hungry and alone. The silk mattress felt like stone as he slept on it. He suddenly realized that he was no longer needed in bed; he woke up instantaneously and hoofed towards the kitchen door.

“Instant noodles, again?” he thought, he had been consuming instant food for three years now. No one is there to cook for him, his stove were covered by spider webs: had not being used for a long time. His eyes were searching for something, and it lay on a packet o ‘Coffee-Mix’, he took the packet, tore it open and started filling the powder in a coffee cup. The water heater was turned on.

While waiting for his water, Danny stared at his kitchen table; the chairs were all in place, he realized that he never touched that table for quite a few years now. He sat on one of the seats while monitoring the living room. He remembered back a few years past when the living room was filled with joy and excitement; sounds of his kids playing combats and all were still fresh in his memory. Then he could still hear the sounds of his wife: Elena, nagging around the boys, pleading them to stop playing. Elena indeed was a loyal wife, he missed her: the way she took care of their family could not be perfectly done by anyone else.

He remembered the first time he met Elena. They were together in Oxford that time, applying for the same course: Information Management. They were indeed a sweet couple, and were married after graduation. Since then, they lived a happy life with their two children. He could still see Elena’s face; those luscious lips, a pair of cerulean blue eyes and the body that perfectionist craved: she was made perfect.

Inexplicably, tears ran down his pale dry cheeks; he remembered the boys. Drake and Justin were just as great as Elena. Drake was still an infant while Justin studied in James K. Polk International: an international school fully sponsored by The Embassy backers.

Danny works as a Librarian of Congress under the supervisions of James H. Billington from The Library of Congress, Washington. His mission was to make the library resources available and useful to the Congress, not including protecting all government information and secrets from public’s eye. A big responsibility was on his shoulders, and his life was always at risk.

He abruptly remembered that day. When he reached home from work, and as he stepped in his mansion, he didn’t hear those nuisance’s sounds from his two princes. He searched the entire building for them, but they were out of sight. He was worried and it got even worse when he suddenly realized the lost of Elena. His whole family was as if taken away from him. He became half mad; he was harassing his place while suddenly everything went black.

He opened his eyes slowly and was taken aback when he observed himself tightly blanketed with ropes. In front of him were Drake, Justin and Elena; they were also fully tided up and still unconscious.

He looks up, even higher than before, and to his astonishment; the Germans: they were the cause of this menace.

“What do you want Germans!” the faces of the generals evoke his mood towards them. “What are you going to do with my family?”

“We will let them live if you give us the information we need.” A pale, fully attired general spoke. Danny knew they wanted the information of the government, but he stated a ‘no’.

“No, I don’t have it,” he said solemnly.

“The information or your family!” The general threatened, with a long black rifle situated on the head of his wife. Danny did not know what to do. If he gave the information, he would be a rebel citizen and the chance of being killed after they got their information was undoubtedly high.

If he did not give the information, all his family would be dead-meat. He was not good at making decision so he think logically. If he sacrifice his family then the nation would never be at risk; millions of life would be save and what was the value of three life compared to the upcoming blood war of the whole nation. That was it, which was the Hobson’s choice. He took the Hobson’s choice.

“I would never lend you the information!” Suddenly, the general fired a dozen bullets into his wife’s head, making his conscious wife shrieking in pain. His wife was as if paralyzed by the gun shot. She lay in front of him, dead.

“Now!” The general cried.

“No!” he refuses. The general cut Justin’s throat out and smashed the head of Drake until he can see the remnants of the three year old bloody brain. The Germans beat him up and left him in the building. He was alone, with the bodies of Elena, Drake and Justin. The CIA turned out late to stop those bloody murders. But the Germans were caught.

The next day, the CIA entitled Danny with the Medal of Bravery for his sacrifice and bravery in protecting the national information. He took the title with soaked–eyes, crying almost unstoppably at home. He realized all that he had done for the nation only worth for a piece of metal, if he knew that earlier, he would never let The Germans hurt his family.

But that was all three years back. Now even though he was lonely, he realizes that what he did back then was the right thing to do. But he always prayed to God of his stupor, for his acts: because the line in his prayer was always, “I regretted the decision for the rest of my life”.

Family

"Johnny, am i really into this?" a pointed face teenager asked; loading her gun with inaccurately shaking hands.

"You were born to stop him Selina, go for it!" Johnson Cavanaugh reassured her; leaving a fine tap on her shoulder. Selina hid the gun in her suit and opened the door on the upper deck. Maverick was underneath, gazing through the horizontal line between the night sky and the blue-black sea. No sooner that he realizes that her daughter was on the upper deck.

"What are you doing up there Pumpkin? Catching the night's breeze?" Maverick Ferndale said, expanding his hands towards Selina.

"No Daddy, i just want to say goodnight..." she said, aiming her gun downwards and shot her father right at his heart, "...forever," she uttered, with a distinctive smile on her evil face. She felt gloomy sadness and sensational relief all at the same moment. As she turned backwards, she found out that Johnny was behind her the entire time. "i've made it Johnny, i've made it!" she said; smiling.

Johnny took her hands and pulls her into a close embrace, "i'm glad you are, Selina," he said, with a welcoming smile. "But, i don't think you can live without him. So, i'm going to send you to him!" He said, firing his gun on Selina's stomach, laughing hard as Selina began to tremble in front of him. Inexplicably, a bullet was fired from the lower deck; the bullet smoothly planted itself into Johnny's heart. Although he was puzzled and dying, he still tried to find the gun responsible for the bullet in his torso.

To his surprise, he saw Maverick pointing a gun at him on the lower deck. "Confused Johnson?" Maverick said; fastening off his bullet-proof jacket.

"Poor Johnny, i would never kill my own father you know?" Selina's voice was heard. "We had vowed to keep our trusts, and we will never break it." She walked towards the lying Johnson and bends down gracefully with Maverick on her side.

"As family is the only place where we can put our trusts on," the Ferndales said; leaving poor Johnny alone - lying dead.

I don’t / I do?

My hand trembled through the veils of shames, as I am getting more turgid to seeing such an enormous remnant of my deliberative state. Although the signals had called off the mission, I remained there - unmoved. Maybe something is wrong with me or is it something is unclear for me. Never, the less shame I had ever endeavored in my whole life and never, the more pride I had ever planted in my soul. Before the wedding, everything and everyone was all fine, no problems were in sight. Not until the Father’s words were pierced through the eardrums of my inert ears.

“Will you William Tennyson, take Christina Evans as your lawfully wedded wife?” he asked. I’m stuck at the middle of an awkward situation, a situation in which no man had ever passed flawlessly before; I prayed to God for the agility of my tongue.

I answered, “I …don’t,” every rolling eyes were on me, my fiancé almost fainted, the father of the bride looks like he will be butchering my flesh and tears almost ran down my mother’s cheeks. “No, I … I do!” I uttered abruptly, correcting my rather stupid statements on the most glorious day of my life. I held my head downwards - at first, no one seems to notice my idiocy, but, after seconds of silence a fine gentleman starts smiling, two giddy teenagers giggled, three women whispered and everyone laughed. Father Joseph even slapped me hard on the shoulder. Everyman Jack were laughing including Christy – oh, I can’t wait to divorce her.

FIN