. detective Maria Bennet .

  The era looks like the early 1900’s. I was a female private detective, by the name of Maria Bennet. That was how I introduced myself at the client’s door. I was with two other people; one man, who looked like my assistant detective, and a woman, who wore a white coat like a doctor. We were investigating the mysterious death of a young woman and her new-born child, upon the inquiry of her father. His name was Dr. Sterngal, a man well-known for his practice and was a man of pure science. But he could not explain rationally his daughter’s cause of death. When we arrived at the home to inspect the body, it was ghastly.

  Her body was pale grey, with a slight blue-purple hue to her skin. The veins in her body were visible and her eyes were wide open, white as the moon and bloodshot at the corners. Her mouth was left open and gaping, as if she were screaming. Her eyes and mouth were too dry and stiff to close, so they had no choice but to leave her as she was. What was even more frightening was that the baby looked exactly the same, but it seemed it was still struggling to live. I don’t remember much what happened after we inspected the mother’s body, but I recall seeing the distraught look on Dr. Sterngal’s face when the baby tried to cry. It sounded more like gurgling wails, like it was choking on its own saliva. Or blood.

As the detective, of probably the occult, I concluded that the girl was the victim of demonic possession. But the goal wasn’t her, rather it was the child the demon was after. The whole thing reminded me too much of the movie ‘The Exorcism of Emily Rose’. Probably what invoked the ‘demonic possession’ Dream in the first place xDD

.: just for us :.

Aster and Fou; Dream 29.03.09

Just thought I'd post up this recent illustration I did of two characters from a Dream long, long ago. One of the earliest Dreams I blogged about even. When I first wrote down the details of what went on in my bobble-of-a-head, the story was not smooth, characters were intangible, things shifted and disappeared and just like any Dream, most of it didn't make any sense. So I rewrote it as a real, concrete story, at the same time experimented with a writing style and plot that still left it vague and surreal. I call it 'Just for Us'.

Enjoy~ And as always, feedback is always appreciated~

. island wedding .

  I’m on a large, tropical island with my Dream fiancé. We were either supposed to get married or we already got married with a beach wedding. All of my friends were there. We were all dining at a restaurant that sat atop of the ocean waters. The restaurant also owned a Ferris wheel so my fiancé and I rode it after dinner. At the top of the wheel, we stopped because another ceremony was going on. Everyone at the restaurant was like a guest at the wedding. But before the priest could finalise the vows and wed them, the bride ran to the edge and jumped into the ocean. We got down from the Ferris wheel asking what happened, the groom just calmly answered, “It’s ok. She probably had cold feet.” The girl might have been a mermaid because when friends and family went to look for her in the water, she was gone.

  Even though we weren’t friends with the bride or groom, I took my fiancé to the shallow waters by the restaurant to look for her. And when we were searching, we found an entrance to the insides of the island under the restaurant. It wasn’t like a huge discovery of a cave or anything adventurous like that. It was actually another tourist attraction where they had a mall constructed in the underbelly of the island. So as we went inside, we went through a long corridor of glass and saw sea creatures swimming on the other side, which meant we were underwater. And the shopping complex under the island was simply HUGE!

Unfortunately the Dream was a short one and it just ended there. Or at least I don’t remember much of it now. An underwater mall; I wonder if it’s actually been built before.

.: late for valentines as well :.

Blueberry and Lime celebrate another Valentines day.

Might as well be late for this one too.

But anyway, don't just save your 'I love Yous' for Valentines day.

You should say it more often, 365 days a year! Why wait?

*~* Hope yall had a great Valentines this year *~*

. 05.08.12 special daughter .

  I'm a little girl, maybe 10 or 11 years of age. Two adults are bringing me to the bank for a day out. I know they're not my parents but I cling tightly to the man. He's young and handsome, with light brown, short, wavy hair and brown eyes. I am more attached to him and I call him 'daddy'. As the adults go ahead to the counters, I wander around observing the other people in the bank. The tellers, the clerks, the other customers, and then the security guards. I notice one in particular. A young African-American man sitting near to where the main counters are. He's just sitting there with his gun and when he smiles at me, I get the most uncomfortable feeling. Then I start to cry. I find the nearest corner and cry hysterically. The woman comes back to check on me and asks me what's wrong. I can't form words but I'm holding the sides of my head as if I have a headache.

  I tell her that something bad is going to happen. And when I look at the security guard again, his eyes have changed. They're no longer smiling. He stands up with his gun and starts shooting the ceiling and soon everyone is down on the floor like me. I think there were other people in disguise like him in the bank but I couldn't see them. All I could see was the man walking up to the counters where daddy was. He was threatening him. Daddy was in trouble. The moment the phoney guard hit daddy's head with his gun, something took over me. I slowly walked up to the man with anger in my eyes. He was about to smack me with his gun but somehow mid-way, his arm couldn't move. In a blink of my eyes, his gun was sliced into two, and all I could say to him was, "Don't hurt my daddy.." Then I grab him by the collar and lift him up, him weighing as light as a feather in my hands. And I threw him at the counters, his body crashing through the glass barriers.

  And after all that, I feel my anger leaving me and my body weak. I fall to the floor unconscious. I feel strong arms cuddle and lift me up. I remember the warmth as he brought my body closer to his. I remember daddy holding me. And then I remember nothing.

  Possibly it was the next day. The adults are dressed in white coats and seated down in a large canteen of some sort with their supervisor. The adults talk while I just sit idly by, eating. "It's remarkable. First she has Level 5 telekenesis, and now she can see the future?" says the woman. Daddy takes a plate full of small buns and gives me a few. I like the buns and happily eat them one by one, dipping them into the saucer of chicken curry nearby. Daddy talks, "She can't see that far into the future, but perhaps just the immediate possibilities according to the situation and time she's in. Call it a sensitive case of farsightedness."

  The adults talk some more and I've long lost my interest. Soon after we're back at 'home' and I spend quality time with daddy. He is sweet, kind, gentle and considerate. Even as we're doing tests, I'm not afraid as long as daddy is around. In the playroom, I draw some pictures and daddy picks one up, "What's happening here, sweetie?"

  "It's me flying, daddy."

  "Hmm can you actually fly, I wonder?" he smiles at me. I take the picture and show him that he and the woman were below on the ground. "You and mommy give me wings so that I can fly, see?" "That's very poetic of you, sweetie. It's very nice." He sits on the floor and cuddles me from behind so I continue showing him pictures.

If it were up to me to continue this story, I'd say that by the time the little girl (whom I shall call Annie) grows into a young woman, or teenager, she'll have developed more mature feelings towards the man. Annie has always felt safe and secure with her fosterfather, and in times of danger she's always capable of protecting him. Despite the 10 years age difference, Annie falls for the man who's always taken care of her, but unfortunately it's one-sided because he only sees her as his fosterdaughter. She'll probably find another 'special' kid they have in the organization, except that he might be someone who doesn't like being cooped up in a super-secret basement. In the end he turns on the organization and the people who have been experimenting on him and escapes. And then Annie will be forced to choose between the boy whom she shares so much in common with, or the man that will never be able to love her back. Dun Dun DUUN!!

.: late for 2013 :.

Hello dearies~ How are you all? I'm not here to welcome 2013 because that would be really late. However I did forget to post up this bit of poem I wrote right on the brink of new years and I thought it'd be nice to share it here as well. Sorry Dreams have been a little slow. Been pretty busy with university, and when it's not university, it's family.

Hope 2013's been good so far to everyone :)

Shifting like the mist that veils the starry night

Gently moving like ripples across the water’s face

We can never change, even with all our might

The time that moves with so much grace

The sands fall, and fade, and they disappear into

the memories of now, and dreams of what may

And though the next dawn brings us something new

We will always have the dusk of yesterday

*~* HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE *~*

Hope you all have a good one! Wishing everyone a lovely ‘nother year of health, happiness and good fortune, God willing and God bless! :)

. 08.05.12 peeves .

  I remember only bits and pieces of how the Dream began. I was traveling somewhere. At first I was with my mom, but then I was surrounded by my group of friends. It looked like we went to some kind of program. The one in charge was a tall middle-aged man. He looked a little Caucasian. I remember he had a distinct broad, square jaw and thinning hair. He wore a dark grey collared shirt and black slacks, and looked like some middle-school teacher. We were minding our own business when suddenly he comes up to us and rudely tells us off, making irrational demands of what we should be doing at the moment. Things we couldn't possibly do at the program or at that period of time, and the way he was barking orders at us really got on my nerves.

  I couldn't stand it. I stood up to face him. I was at his shoulder length, which was weird considering he's supposedly Caucasian, and I looked him in the eyes. I told him off, explaining our situation and exclaiming how he could be so rude. He doesn't listen and shouts even louder, belittling me just because I was a student. He had a roll of newspaper in his hand and was threatening to hit me with it. That was the last straw. As he was waving the newspaper in my face, I grabbed the thick roll of paper – crushing it – and I grabbed the collar of his shirt. I pulled hard till he was inches away from my face. I said, “I dare you to try. I dare you.” He's taken aback but tries to remain his ground. He warns me and threatens me more, while slowly backing away. I just move forward, giving him my best scowl. I was not amused at his behavior.

  He directs his frustration to the other students, my friends, and I get in between them, defending them from his authority. Furious, he continues his insults but I just stepped forward, intimidating him with each step. I taunted him, psyching him the closer I got to him. With my arms out wide, it was like I was saying 'come at me bro, show me what you got!' After the third time, he was finally dissuaded and left us alone. However soon after, I noticed he was having a problem of his own. Some technical difficulties or something with the program, and because of his earlier behavior, no one wanted to help him out. I knew how to help his situation, but I didn't entertain him. I also didn't mock him, even though I thought that problem of his was really simple to solve.

  The next person I had the 'pleasure' of meeting was a student from our group. She was the supervisor for our group for the program, but she was an incompetent leader. She was completely arrogant, bossy, mean, and just downright immature with how she handed people she didn't like. She acted as if she knew what she was doing, but in reality she wasn't doing anything right. She hated admitting mistakes and didn't like people pointing them out as obvious as they were. I don't remember arguing with her, just her horrid personality. Ironically when she encountered some technical problem, just like the teacher earlier, she needed help.

  No one in her clique, like herself, was competent enough to do the job. When she realised I was the only one who could help her, she suddenly became sweet and charming, holding me by the shoulders and calling me her friend. If it's another thing I hate, its two-faced people. But I felt mature enough to help without feeling any ill-will towards her. I just did the work (some technical thingiemajig on the computer) in quiet dignity. Even as she praised me or made jokes, I just didn't entertain her as I normally would people. In the computer room we were in, I noticed there was a child playing on the floor not far from us. I wondered what the child was doing but I didn't approach her till after I was done with the computer.

  I went to the child to see what she was doing on the floor. She was surrounded by a mess of cards, those kinds that kids would collect in packs like Digimon, Pokemon etc. But all of a sudden, the brat screams hyperactive nonsense and throws cards and other toys at me. In real life, I really can't stand bratty children. Those kind of children that have temper tantrums when they don't get what they want, or when they just be downright obnoxious cus they think it's funny. In the Dream, I just felt like I wanted to slap that little kid. She hid under a table and tried throwing the cards at me one by one, like those ninja Shuriken. But her throws were flimsy, and I almost laughed.

  Then I picked up a card and flicked it properly and it hit the table hard, which gave her a shock. I flicked another one and it hit her, I think. That's when she came out from under the table with a yelp. Those cards looked flimsy from the outside, but once you flick it properly, it hits you like a rock. And from some angles, they're really sharp. But instead of running away from me, she came to me asking how I was able to do that with the cards. And instead of slapping the kid silly, I spoke calmly and taught her how to flick the cards properly. It was funny how I could change from utterly frustrated to a relaxed, mature adult; especially when it came to the kid.

Each person I encountered could represent segments of each generation and flaws at which I'm peeved at. The teacher is an older adult, who is supposed to be wiser and more knowledgeable than a person within my stage. However, I get really pissed when older people are still so narrow minded and foolish. What's worse are those that tend to deny whenever they are at fault, especially leading or authority figures.

The girl might represent how angry I am at the declining quality of youth nowadays; how shallow, selfish, and plain stupid we've all become. People my age should be mature adults by now, but some of us are surprisingly as immature as the little girl I met last. The little girl represents the generation under me; how naïve and stubborn they are regarding the life around them. Many have lost the good old-fashioned family values, becoming spoiled little brats who don't know the meaning of hard work.

But then, I still have hope for them. It is the responsibility of my generation to take care of them and teach them about life, and not to repeat the same mistakes. I still have hope for the next generation, and I will do my best to do my share.