The Murderer

    I didn’t see that dream last night, the dream that I used to dream so often. The dream was rarely the same, but it always went the same way. Two boys playing badminton, the smaller one trying hopelessly to beat the bigger and faster boy, or the same two boys handing their report cards to their parents, the bigger one always had more praise and many, many others. The worst one was when the two boys were talking to a girl, a most beautiful girl. The girl smiled radiantly at both, but walked together with only one, the bigger boy. But her heart was broken by him. The younger boy tried to console her, but she cried and left and went far away. Terrible and sad dreams but not anymore, I thought to myself and smiled.

     I jumped gleefully to my feet and headed to the bathroom for my morning rituals. I bathed, brushed my teeth and got dressed; I haven’t felt this good in years. From beginning to end, my plan was pitched perfect. I managed to convince everyone to come to this forsaken island resort during the monsoon season. Separating Liza from the group was easy; she thought she was so good at hiding her obvious smoking habit. I knew she had to take a smoke sooner or later. Getting the ring from Upin was even easier, that idiot can sleep through a carpet bombing. And now, finally it has all bared fruit; Upin is locked up and that high and mighty detective with the tacky red jacket felled for everything.

         After dressing myself, I put my trusty switchblade in my jeans pocket and decided to take a walk and enjoy the morning air. It was still raining, but instead of the heavy downpour of yesterday it was a thick misty rain. I strolled casually to the main lobby and stood at the veranda breathing in the fresh air and watching the misty curtain of rain cover everything. “Mr Ipin, I need to talk to you,” it was that red woman’s voice.

     I turned around and to my surprise Sofia was with her. The detective was carrying a large green coconut under her arm. My heart skipped a beat. No it can’t be it’s just a coincidence I thought to myself. “How can I help you, Cik?” I answered as nonchalant as I can.

    “I was looking for someone to crack upon this coconut and Sofia says that you’re really good at it,” she said with a big satisfied grin. This can’t be happening! My plan was perfect, I thought to myself. I don’t understand, if you want to crack it, I’m sure you can find a parang in the kitchen,” I feigned ignorance as best as I could

   “A parang? Sofia says you like to use a big stick to crack coconuts,” she answered.

    “It’s over,” Sofia interjected. “I saw you kill Liza, you hit her again and again. You murderer!” she persisted as tears streamed down her face.

   “You saw?! Why couldn’t you keep your big mouth shut, you bitch!”

    I slid my hand into my pocket and grabbed my switchblade. If I’m going down I’ll take that traitor with me. The blade gleamed as I flipped it open. Sofia screamed as I lunged, but a round, green coconut came flying at my face and I was knocked hard on my back covered in coconut water. Dazed, I saw the broken coconut on my chest and felt hands grabbing me and the heard the sound of handcuffs. I was pulled unsteadily to my feet, I could hear the detective saying “And that” she smiled “is how you crack a coconut.”

ELIZA MARIA BENJAMINE

A129321

Creative Writing Workshop: Critiques

•  You have put a lot of effort on using various metaphors that is related to the setting, which ignites the reader's senses. One of my favorite is " The crashing sound of the waves against the large vessel". 
• You have wrote this story with a lot of thought so that readers can understand and relate to their personal experience. It is undeniable that most people have experience a similar situation like this and are able to imagine it.
• In order for readers to understand a story, try not to use words that you are unfamiliar with because it could stir confusion among readers.One example of an awkward sentence is " ".
• This short story needs to be developed because there is more description on settings. The protagonist seems anonymous but the flat character is introduced as Innola. Try to introduce the characters and setting in a balance because most readers look forward to know what the characters are made of.
• It seems that you are taking a chance here because the structure and diction of this story appeals more towards the romantic readers. This means that you are narrowing the number and type of readers.

Creative Writing Workshop

It was the last day of the semester and holidays were going to start. Everyone in the hall was excited about going back to their hometown and being able to escape from daunting classes. Unlike the rest of them, Amelya does not even look forward to this joyful time of the year. She becomes a whole new person when anyone questions her about the vacation. Her face sometimes becomes as pale as the faded yellow paint on the front door. There was a time she yelled at one of her classmate “Just mind your own business and shut up lah”. Since then, no one bothers to know anything about her. They only know that she lives in the urban area nearby the university with her parents and three working siblings. But nobody really knows the reason why she hates to go home at all.

Stylistics : Magic in less than an hour

The Escaped Killer

I sat across from father in the living room and expelled a loud sigh. In a quick nano-second, I vomited everything that had been haunting me for the past several days. I saw in my father's eyes all his hopes and dreams in me shattered. Mother dropped the bowl of fruits; she couldn't believe her baby boy had committed murder. As she screamed, I shuddered as I realized how similar mother's shriek was to Nurul's, as I brought the knife down on her. Father barked at me to get out of his sight. As I retreated, I saw him fidget with his gold-club as he anxiously watched the news. He was probably looking for any sign of Nurul's murder. Suddenly, I heard a thunderous rapping on the front door. Without hesitation I crouched behind the cabinet and shuddered.

Just as father got up, a large bald man burst into the room, brandishing a glock. I recognised him immediately. The last face I wanted to see; Pak Samat. Father and Pak Samat stared daggers at each other in stunned silence. Just at the right moment, a sneeze plagued me and I was discovered by the two men. As if God was trying to avenge Nurul, mother walked into the room with a cell phone glued to her ear. Mother screamed shrilly. In the confusion of the moment, I saw father lunge at Pak Samat, attempting to bring down the golf club on his head. A flash of light and an explosive clap befuddled me. Father collapsed to the ground, clutching his shoulder, the club slid away from him. Mother screamed yet again and fainted. Pak Samat approached me. He cursed me for taking his precious daughter's life; tears cascading down his face.

I looked up to the barrel of the gun. The only word that came to my wretched mouth was sorry. I squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating death. The same explosive clap sounded again. I felt warm tricklings of blood on me. There was no pain, so I realized the blood was not my own. I opened my eyes and saw Pak Samat sprawled spread-eagle on the ground; blood leaking from his forehead. That was as far as my sanity could take, I broke.

Written by Arththi Sathananthar, Eliza Maria Benjamine, Daniel Madrigal & Yee Woan Fung

Setting exercise

• the beach is paradise
• sensual breeze
• sun and moon light as the source of comfort
• soft sand on sea shore
• ambiguous waves , friendly but wipes achievements
• sea water is a peaceful bed
• satisfying

The warm breeze that gently brushes against her skin reminds her of the sandy bay. A place where the sun shines cheerfully during the day and the moon glows solemnly through the dark night sky, not over-shadowed by soaring concrete trees. The same light that shines through the day and night wraps her worries like a blanket.The soft white sand that cushions her every step creates a trail of foot prints, eventually fades off as the waves tenderly hits the shore. The cerulean coloured water gives her a calm feeling, as if she was floating in the sky. No one else but her feeds on such satisfaction from the abandoned paradise.

Character exercise

• ·         21 year old girl named Amelya
• ·         Pursuing her degree in Psychology
• ·         Artistic and jovial
• ·         Tough and secretive
• ·         Secretly in a relationship with Alex for the past 5 years
• ·         Lives among gender bias family members
• ·         Does not have a voice of her own
• ·         Yearns for freedom

Her palms were sweaty as her father questions about the box of cigarettes on her study table, just beside several little post-it notes of Jung’s Collective Unconsciousness. While the dark skinned man kept throwing words of threats towards her, she steadily looks at the cupboard door swamped with her recent colorful sketches. She recalls advising Alex earlier this morning to quit smoking as it would rob his life even before they could legally make babies. Coming back to reality, she heard her father barking out loud “Better go and die!” and left the room. She swiftly rushes for the door knob to lock it and instantly rang up her friend, Natalie. Instead of pouring out her sorrows of what just happened, she continues their conversation about a funny guy named Rustin Hieber. It is as if she laughed and danced through the field of grave without feeling any pain inside. She knew that even if she had defended herself a moment ago, the old man would still glorify her brothers for being such righteous beings.

Hyperlink Poetry Project - Musings in an Aquarium

Draws a question

Braid of thoughts, conflict feelings

The lush tree dances

Please mom, a fish like rainbow?

Comfort the lonely other


Eliza
A129321