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The Serial Killer — Part 2

Part 1

You take out the gun, your hands’re trembling

You pull the trigger, you’re shocked

The person is killed

There is fear inside you

Yet, you are thrilled

You kill more and more

You are addicted

You have found the love of your life — Killing



Stop killing!


Note to myself

Another quick production of poem without much editing. I am not a smoker. I have this idea from a Cantonese movie where a man finds the thrill of killing people after his first killing. The killing metaphor is just like the smoker’s killing.

Smokers may not realize how much the life of a non-smoker has changed. The least that a smoker can do to his / her loved ones, is not to kill them a.k.a. smokes in front of them.


The Life of a Domestic Helper

The weather in Singapore is unpredictable. It can be raining early in the morning and extremely hot in the day. Sometimes, it is the opposite, an extremely hot day with a sudden heavy rain within minutes. That’s why I always bring an umbrella with me. If it is a hot day, I use the umbrella to keep myself away from the scorching sun. If it is raining, I have a walking shelter.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Nana, where is my whiteboard?”

“You keep it yourself. Check your bag.”

“I can’t find it!” shouts the eldest boy.

“Your mum said I cannot touch your bag, you find it yourself.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I want iPad! I want iPad!” cries the youngest boy.

I walk slowly backwards into my room, avoiding the punching from the youngest boy. I cannot beat a three-year-old boy, but I need to protect myself too. If not for the help from his grandmother, I think I will retreat to the corner of my room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The middle boy does not shout or cry. But he always snatches toys from the youngest boy or damages the toys from the eldest boy. That’s when chaos and disaster start and I have to solve the problem.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Nana, there is a spider here!” shouts the eldest boy.

I do not understand why the eldest boy likes shouting so much. It is not a spider, just a spider web. Oh, I have missed some corners of the house. I quickly clean the spider web.

“Don’t worry, I have cleaned it. I will clean the whole house when you all are having holiday at Malaysia.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

An outsider has heard the above conversation on the spider web.

“Your maid is not going to Malaysia with you?” asks the outsider.

“There is a lot of work to do and taking care of the dog,” answers the eldest boy.

That means I am not going holiday with the family. While they are away, I need to clean up the house and take care of the dog.

That’s my life. Three boys, two adults and a dog. I take care of all of them. Life has its ups and downs, just like the weather in Singapore.


Note to myself

Time spent: 20 minutes of continuous writing.

We have heard some stories of domestic helpers who torture the children, who steal, etc. Nonetheless, there are good ones out there. Appreciate their efforts and children should learn to respect them, not shouting at them.

The Old House

I call it my old house because I lived there for more than 20 years and my family has moved to a “new” house a year ago. I was at overseas when my family moved to the new house. My things were moved by my family. The old house is rented to two young men.

In my memory, though small, the old house is where I grow up. There is a green field just outside the house. We had a small garden too. I requested a hibiscus plant from my grandmother and planted it outside the house. The green field has a few trees along the roadside. When we were younger, my brother and I used to climb up a tree each and claimed it as our tree house.

Inside the house, two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and two bathrooms. We seldom have visitors. It is because the house is small. A group of three people will make the house looks like a packed sardine can. Yet, the children can always go outside and play. It is in a five-storey flat with no lift. We used to climb up the stairs to find our neighbours and play with them.

There was an old grumpy man living on the fourth storey. Do you know children? When children play, noise is inevitable. We always got scolded by the old man. I remembered once, the old man was chasing after my brother with a cane! Naughty boy. Of course, we still enjoyed our childhood.

The old house is now rented out. I miss it so much. One day, I unpacked my things and asked my mum to bring me to the old house. I have thought of a great reason to be back there. I have cleared two drawers to give to the tenants. I have had great hope to meet my old house. The house is full of fond memories.

From the outside, we saw that the lights were on. We went to the door.


A man opened the door and led us in. Wow, the living room was full of cans of drinks and the kitchen was full of shoes! I am shocked. The house was clean and tidy. Now it is dirty and messy. I tip-toed in and out of the house. What a disappointment. The man must think that I am crazy. No, I am just sad that my old friend is in such a dirty and messy state.

Ah… I think I need to accept the new house as my new house. The old house is dead.

Happy Day!

Our family does not celebrate any special occasions. The reasons are:

1. My parents are not well-off

2. My parents appreciate family time at home rather than having fun outside (which is linked to number 1)

3. My parents want the children to excel in studies.

As a result, if I have good results for the year, the whole family can go to the hawker centre to have meal. Even though it is only at the hawker centre, we (the children) are excited about it.

I am a picky eater. Every time I go outside with my family, I order the same dish. My mother saves all the trouble of asking me what I want to eat. The dish is Char Kway Teow.


Char Kway Teow — Penang variation

You may see different spelling of the dish because it is in Hokkien (one of the Chinese dialects). Kway Teow is flat rice noodle. It is white. In Chinese language, we call it “河粉”。Char means stir-fried. Thus, Char Kway Teow is stir-fried flat rice noodle.

The white rice noodle is stir-fried over very high heat with light and dark soy sauce until it becomes dark colour. It is commonly stir-fried with egg, prawns, cockles, bean sprouts and other ingredients. Different countries may have different variations. I like the Penang variation where only the white rice noodle is used. The Singapore variation is stir-fried the white rice noodle with the round yellow noodle.

The reason why I do not like the Singapore variation is, I do not like to eat round yellow noodle. My friends have suggested me that I order “Char Kway Teow without yellow noodle” when I am at Singapore. But, isn’t it weird? Char Kway Teow means stir-fried Kway Teow, I do not ask for yellow noodle!

Char Kway Teow is best to be stir-fried in pork fat, which makes the dish smells good. Beware though, the dish is high in saturated fat. When I was younger, I ate some of the pork fat pieces. Now that I am older and more health-conscious, I still prefer those stir-fried in pork fat, but I choose not to eat the pork fat pieces.

I love Kway Teow. Thus, I love Kway Teow soup too, another dish that uses Kway Teow. Kway Teow soup is healthier, plainer in taste and less oily. I normally have Kway Teow soup when I fall sick or when I want to have something light.

I love Kway Teow! By the way, my father loves the same dish as me 🙂


Note to myself

Time spent: 30 minutes of continuous writing with picture.

Day 9: A Day at the Park

A man and a woman walk through the park together, holding hands. They pass an old woman sitting on a bench. The old woman is knitting a small, red sweater. The man begins to cry.

The man

I like walking in the park. Mum used to walk in the park with me, like now. Of course, without the holding hands. There is even a dancing session weekly. I love to shake left and right, the shaking moves my muscles. I know my muscles are getting weaker. I hope she does not notice it.

I think of mum. I am not sure when I will join her in the heaven. Nonetheless, I cry because I do not want to part with the lady besides me, who has accompanied me since young. We spend time together, she knows me well and she understands me. If possible, I want to grow old with her. If I leave her, she will be all alone.

The woman

I feel his fingers clutching to my left hand in a hard way. I feel a little pain. Something must be wrong with his muscles. Ah, yes, I forget he cannot tell me, his vocabulary is like a six-year-old’s. Maybe I need to bring him for a body check-up some day.

I love being with him, holding hands, walking together in a park. We used to walking together, three of us, mum, him and me, after dad has passed away.

There are tears in his eyes. Why? Are his eyes deteriorating too? I must bring him for a body check-up tomorrow, no more waiting.

My one and only brother, now that both our parents have passed away, I do not want something bad to happen to you. Though mentally retarded, you still deserve the best in life. I will do whatever I can to be with you.

Oh, we walk pass an old woman. We should walk back to her and chat with her. She looks like an old wise woman.

The old woman

Knitting, knitting, knitting…

Is this the only thing that an old woman like me can do? I want to be free and enjoy my life. This muscle is killing me; every knit takes all my effort. It is so tiring. How I wish I could be younger.

The weather is warm, I like warm weather. The couple is walking towards me, maybe I can chit-chat with them. I am all alone here. Would they chit-chat with me? I am just an old, useless old woman.

Wait, they are not couple. They are brother and sister. Believe me, I do not grow this old to mistake a couple for a pair of brother and sister. Yes, they will chit-chat with me. The woman will ask me to give some life advice. The man is mentally retarded, he will sit there and listen.

They walk pass me.

I told you, they turn back towards me. What a lovely day.

Note to myself

Time spent: 15 minutes of continuous writing.

I have the idea before I start writing, thus less editing and can complete within shorter time frame.

Overall satisfied with the writing.

On a Hot Day

Weather forecast: There will be rain in the afternoon. The temperature for today is between 24°C to 31°C.

“Arghhh… the weather is so hot! Are they sure it is only 31°C? Maybe it is 41°C.”

Walking out from a temple, Martin can feel the scorching hot sun above his head. Today is his day off and he has been wondering where to go next. Things are not going too well for him. The air-conditioner at home is leaking water and the technician can only go to his house to check on the air-conditioner at 4 p.m. today.

Because it is hot at home, he goes out for lunch. He passes by the temple and goes in to pray for smooth life ahead. “Smooth” means no faulty air-conditioner, nice weather with some rain, more OT at the company and of course, nice colleagues at the company who will not pick on him everyday.

Maybe he can improve himself by reading some self-help books. Thus, the next destination is the library. Today is also a school holiday. Many children are in the library. A boy and a girl are discussing about their school holiday homework. They are whispering, one may wonder if they can really hear each other. Nearby the boy and the girl, is a mother who is holding a story book, muttering to her toddler.

“What am I doing at the Children’s Section? Even the library is bullying me.”

Martin goes upstairs to the Adult’s Section. There are a lot of people. The row of tables and chairs are occupied. Most of them look like students who are doing homework. Some adults are doing leisure reading. Martin ambles to the bookshelf with the label “Self-help”.

He picks up a book and starts reading. Since there is no space to sit, he just stands there and reads. He can hear some whispering now and then. But he only wants to be in a cooling environment, so what other people do does not bother him. The book is interesting, it teaches people how to take counter-action for a colleague who back-stabs you. This is what Martin needs.

Suddenly, he feels a strong vibration inside his pocket. Oh, it is 3.30 p.m. already. He must rush home to wait for the technician from the air-conditioner shop. He dashes down the staircase and borrows the book.

It is 4.45 p.m. but no sign of a single soul. Martin calls the shop.

“I am sorry, Sir. Everyone seems to have problem with their air-con because of the hot weather. The technician should be on the way already. Please be patient.”

Another 30 minutes pass by, no sign of a single soul, again.

“I am sorry, Sir. Let me call the technician and get back to you.”

Sometimes life plays a trick on you. When you need something, it wants you to wait. Save the best for last, you say. But Martin does not want to be the last one to get his air-conditioner fixed. Martin stomps up and down in the living room. He is going to shout at the technician when he sees him.

“Hello, Sir. I am calling from XYZ Electric Shop. Sorry, Sir, the technician has met with an accident and he is now hospitalized. We can only send you another technician tomorrow.”

It is a bad day. It is a hot day too.



Note to myself

1. Time spent: 45 minutes of on and off writing.

2. A bit of writer’s block and need to check out the different words to describe an action. Though I don’t usually use a lot of adverbs in my writing, today’s assignment is tough for me because I start thinking about different adverbs!

3. Learnt some vocabulary, the words have been learnt before, but they are seldom used.

4. A bit off topic, more on Martin rather than the public place.

5. Not satisfied with the writing, but I like the ending. Hope you like it too.

Two Twin Sisters

Today is the school sports day. Jane and Jenny reach home and throw their school bags on the floor.

“I take shower first. Later we have tuition,” says Jenny.

Jane, though tired, grabs a book and sits down to read. After taking shower, Jenny joins Jane and starts reading another book from the same genre.

“Won’t you go shower? The tutor is coming soon,” says Jenny to Jane, after some time of reading.

“Don’t bother about me. I know what I am doing.”

“Later you will be late.”

“Shut up,” shouts Jane.

Jane takes her shower just 10 minutes before the tutor reaches the house.

“Where is Jane?” asks the tutor.

“She is taking a shower. Today I need to do a difficult English assignment,” says Jenny.

“I see. Let’s get started,” the responsible tutor starts the class immediately.

Jenny takes out her laptop and starts the writing while Jane joins the class.

“What do you need to do today, Jane?” asks the tutor.

“Something…” says Jane while taking out her laptop and starts reading some non-academic articles on the internet.

“Jane!” the tutor looks at Jane sternly.

“Okay, okay,” Jane goes to the e-learning website and starts doing homework.

“Jane, don’t you need to write about sports day like me?”

“Yeah, I will do that later,” the unconcerned Jane answers.

“I like sports. I have had fun today.”

“I hate sports. It is tiring.”

“Yeah, tiring but fun,” says Jenny, who is still excited about the sports day.

The tutor reads “I have done well in today’s sports day. Our basketball team won the second prize…” from Jenny’s writing.

“I am done,” says Jenny.

“Good. Your next assignment is …”

“We need to write a report on natural disaster. I have chosen flood…”

“What?” interrupts Jane.

“I have chosen flood. Did you choose flood too, Jane?” asks Jenny.

“Yeah, I have borrowed some books to do research on flood,” says Jane while looking at a pile of books.

“Good, then you can share the books with Jenny,” says the tutor encouragingly.

“No, I don’t want to share, she does her own research,” protests Jane.

“It is okay, Ms. Joey. I can do my own research. I am happy that we have that twin instinct,” says Jenny.

Yes, Jane and Jenny are twins. Though they look-alike, they have very different attitude towards each other, studies and life. Nonetheless, they are twins, after all.


Note to myself

Time spent: 38 minutes of continuous writing with no editing.

I have always wondered if twins share the same instinct. I have two aunts who are twins, but I hardly find anything similar between both of them. Jane and Jenny are two fictional characters that I create based on a young pair of twins. I believe that when twins are younger, they still share similar interests.