. 24.08.12 a girl in a grey world .

  If the world were a colour, it would be grey. Well, it’s not really grey. But for this girl, it was. She was an odd little girl in an odd little world. Well, she wasn’t really little, nor was the world she woke up in. But one thing was true, it was all very odd.

  When she woke up, she wasn’t really lying down. She was standing up straight and felt a bit disorientated, as if she had fallen in a daze in the middle of the corridor. She can’t remember where she was or how she got there in the first place. And everywhere around her was very strange and unfamiliar. The decrepit structure of the buildings, the damp, grungy decor and the foreign smells thick in the atmosphere; it was not a pleasant place to be, but the girl was not frightened.

  As she explored the place, she found her reflection in a large, piece of mirror shard, sticking out like a jagged piece of ruin. She seemed like the only thing in the world with colour. Her short hair and top were a bright, dark pink, almost a magenta shade. Her skin was porcelain white, with a blush of colour on her cheeks, like a doll. Her pants and knee-length boots were black as tar, and so were her eyes. But her eyes had pink pupils in the middle, like buttons.

  Not a moment too soon after inspecting herself in the shard did she hear a strange sound. Further down the corridor she spots a large frog-like creature. Or maybe it was a child. Perhaps it was both. Its skin was swamp-green and it was hopping about like a frog, but there was something child-like or impish about his face. Whatever it was, it seemed like the only moving creature besides her. In a lonely grey world with nothing to do, she follows it through the maze of the worn-down building. The creature bounced off the walls as the girl nonchalantly followed. It seemed as if it wanted to be followed because whenever the girl stopped and took her time to inspect something, the frog-imp-child would wait for her close by.

  Through corridors and corridors, the girl passed by shadows and old ghosts and people whom she was sure were no longer people; all residents of this forgotten grey world. The girl found a staircase and was enticed to go downstairs to see where it led. But she heard someone coming up the stairs. It was a woman singing. Suddenly fear overtook the magenta-haired girl and she hid around the corner. From a safe corner, she saw the woman’s black gown trailing behind her as she sang softly, but cheerily. She was dressed in all black, like a mourner’s gown, with a long, black-laced veil covering her face. The atmosphere was eerie and cold and for the first time, the girl was frightened. She went to look for the frog-child.

  Finally the girl sees a curtain at the end of a large hallway, with bright light creeping in through the gaps and moth-bitten holes. Without hesitation, she pushes through the curtain and her eyes are blinded, for a moment, by a vast spectrum of colours. She finds herself in the outside world. She looks up to the blue, azure sky and she can feel the warm sunlight on her porcelain skin, still feeling cold from the grey world behind her. She finds herself standing on a patio garden, with greenery of all kinds in pots of different shapes. On the wooden floor and a number of them handing above her head. Some of them even had flowers and they were a beauty for her button eyes to behold.

  Just then, she feels arms wrap around her and someone is hugging her from behind. The girl hears a voice speaking, saying things like ‘how much I’ve missed you’ and ‘it’s good to see you again’. The girl turns around and she stares into the chocolate eyes of another girl, not much older than she was. She had brown hair and was dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans. She looked at the girl as if she were expecting a response to the warm welcome. The magenta-haired girl looked confused at the stranger and asked, “And you are...?”

  And the girl with chocolate eyes was stunned. “Don’t you remember me, Magenta? It’s me! You do remember me, don’t you?” A second later a lifetime of memories flooded the girl’s mind, shocking and terrifyingly abrupt. The girl with chocolate eyes was just a child when Magenta came into her life. Woven by threads of dreams and wishes of friendship, Magenta was brought to life by the little artist and her world of crayons and bright paint. Whenever she needed a muse or a friend, Magenta was always there for her. But one day, the artist fell ill for the longest time and her world of colour was turning pale from malnourishment.

  Months passed and the girl remained in a coma, and unconsciously sought dreams from everywhere else except her own. But though Magenta was almost forgotten, she never left her little artist. She remained in limbo, where she awaited her canvas world to be restored to life. But after a while, Magenta lost her memory and wandered through limbo aimlessly, constantly forgetting what and who she was and what and who she was supposed to be. Finally the day came when the artist awoke. And she sought to find her muse once more. “I’m sorry. I never intended to forget, especially you.” Magenta replied as she hugged her artist tight, “You never forgot me. Your heart remembered. You were always there, while I was the one who lost memory of my master.” And painted on her porcelain face was a smile.

This was a sweet story with loads of abstract concepts, but I loved it to bits. I especially liked how blur and nonchalant Magenta turned out to be. There are still a few things I didn’t get, like who the frog-child and the lady-in-black were supposed to represent. After all the grey world is actually the grey matter in the artist-girl’s head. I love the special relationship the artist has for her muse, like she really loves her and protects her, because she has been a part of her ever since she was created. And now reunited they can make worlds again <3>

. poor Harriet .

  Harriet is a 17-year-old girl with chestnut eyes and frizzy dark brown hair. Harriet is a disturbed 17-year-old girl. Her eyes are always blood-shot and her chestnut color has dulled with tears. Her wavy locks have become more of a frantic mess. Her eyes are sunken from restless sleep, and she’s been tired of the world for the longest time. Her skin is pale from hiding from the sun. She rarely goes out anymore. She lives with her uncle and aunt. But her father lives with her.

  Every morning she has to wake up to the sound of his voice; his sharp, snarky remarks about everything she is and everything she isn’t. When she brushes her hair, he is there in the mirror, speaking to her in his cold, condescending tone. He would tell her not to bother with her looks when she’s not even worth looking at. She would fight him at first, with silence, not knowing what to say. But deep down, her heart was breaking. When she cries, he just brushes it off and leaves in a huff.

  Every morning she has breakfast with her aunt and uncle, at the round dining table with the quaint white-red chequered cloth. And every morning her father sits between her and her relatives and continues the verbal abuse, while drinking coffee as black and bitter as he was. After attempting a few nibbles of her toast and scrambled eggs, Harriet doesn’t dare eat another bite at the constant nit-picking of her father. She just sits at the table, head down low, and silently tears trickle down her freckled cheeks. Her aunt and uncle look at her pitifully and say nothing.

  This morning, her aunt and uncle were taking her out for a drive. Her aunt sits with her in the back, and her father sits in the front passenger seat. The whole time her uncle drove, her father just could not stop barking at her; calling her names and belittling her every being. She cringed every time his voice rose. Even as her aunt held her, she was trembling from the fear and anxiety and the tears.

  Finally Harriet snaps. And she screams.

  She screams with all her might, staring into his heartless eyes in the rear-view mirror. She screams, “I don’t need you anymore! You’re nothing to me! Why can’t you just leave – me – alone??!!” Her aunt struggles to keep her calm and her uncle focuses on the road, not wanting to hear this. Her father, however, smiles. And slowly his figure disappears from existence, like mist. He is gone and the passenger seat is left empty. But his sadistic smile burns into Harriet’s mind.

  Her aunt and uncle are taking her to a hospital. Hopefully she will have some peace there.

  Harriet is a 17-year-old girl with chestnut eyes and frizzy dark brown hair, and exhausted hopes and worn out dreams. Harriet is a disturbed 17-year-old girl. Her father died 2 years ago so she lives with her uncle and aunt. But her father lives with her. Forever inside her. And he’s not going to go away.

Poor Harriet. The whole Dream played out like a movie so I tried narrating it as it was. If you still don’t quite understand what’s going on here, basically it’s about a teenage girl who has been abused by her father for the longest time. Probably ever since she was a child. I’m not sure whether it was sexual abuse or just physical, verbal & emotional abuse, but it was traumatic nonetheless. She suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the sense that she began hallucinating about her father, since he died 2 years back. Even though he was gone, his memories still lived within and tormented her.

.: Slenderween :.

In my latest Dream post, I mentioned how I was a fan of Slenderman and how it would've been cool to have his as a dad, or a foster dad, or a demon guardian or something of the sort. My friend, Ash, has always been a fan for all things morbidly awesome so she joined the bandwagon. Last Halloween, I drew this as a tribute to Slender-daddy with us as his demonic hybrid Slenderspawns.

I wanna draw more fanart of him now.

. 08.08.12 Slender child .

  I was a young girl with long black hair and a petite red dress, and a cute red hair-band. I lived in a great, big, wooden cottage in the middle of a grey forest. Very rarely did I see people in the forest, let alone children. But when I did see children, I was very happy. I’d go out and play with them. The children never stayed for long though. They were either frightened of me or stayed away, or they just disappeared eventually. But there were two boys that did not mind the fact I lived in a forbidden forest and that I had slightly morbid tendencies. I liked them a lot. They were my first friends.

  The older boy had chestnut hair and eyes, and wore a plain white shirt with denim overalls, with one strap hanging loose from his shoulder. His younger brother had darker hair, almost black like mine, and wore a red shirt and knee-length, brown pants. They lived in a village near to my forest and stumbled upon me by chance one day. Though they were told time and time again not to go near the forest by their parents, they would visit me every day just to play with me. I was their little secret as they were mine.

  But one day they visited me while I was still inside my home. I was in my bedroom upstairs and they saw me through the window. Though I was afraid we would get caught, I opened my window and hurried them to come inside before ‘daddy’ would see. So they were let into my home and we played for a while. But once I heard ‘daddy’ come back home, I had to rush them out the window and had them carefully climb down. ‘Daddy’ doesn’t like it when strangers are in the house. He doesn’t like strangers at all.

  The moment the boys disappeared from plain sight, running back to their village, there was a knock on my door. ‘Daddy’ entered, looming and tall, so much so he reached the ceiling and he had to hunch. His tentacles were twisting and twirling behind him, restless, as if he was disturbed. He took a look outside my window then turned to me and I smiled as innocently as I could. Once his tendrils calmed down, his faceless mask softened as well and a large tentacle patted me on the head. I loved ‘daddy’ but it can get rather lonely sometimes when everyone’s afraid of Slenderman.

Yes I was Slenderman’s child and I really enjoyed the Dream. The way Slendy was so affectionate with me, and protective of me. It made me wonder if I was really his biological, monstrous child or just some child he kidnapped and liked having around. Or perhaps I was demonically possessed and he adopted me for that interest in me. Or perhaps I was a normal child who was already dead, but resurrected due to Slendy’s supernatural powers; cus he was awfully lonely himself and needed someone to play with. Asides from all this, what is up with the iconic girl with black hair and red dress? Is it really symbolism for something pure evil?

. 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.