The Liar in the Elevator (Trash Trio #2)

“You saw him what now?”

This was something that is too good to be true, there is absolutely no way Ru would believe this blonde girl who also happens to be the daughter of Mr Langley, the rudest adult she had ever met in her life, would have something important to share, with her and Max no less. She felt a bit calmed as she looked at Max, and he had the same skeptical look on his face, albeit he covers it well as if he was not as intrigued as Ru was with what Jean had said.

“I saw him, Mr Bob I mean. I saw him in front of my house the night before he was found dead,” Jean said again as her eyes darted left and right looking worried as if someone might heard the three of them.

“What did he want? Why did he go to your house? Did you hear anything they talked about?” Max was barreling with questions, and yet he still manages to look like he’s not interested in what Jean had said, as if it might not have helped his uncle’s situation. Ru is most definitely intrigued. Is Max not as naive as he always made himself out to be?

“What? Like you’re not going to ask the same questions, Ru? Jean, is it? How can we trust you? For all we know, you’re the daughter of the man who, more than anything, only wants this so-called scandal to not be associated with his business, and not to mention that he was so rude to the lady that was with him at the police station the other day. My Mum said, you shouldn’t trust people who are rude to other people.”

Ru was sure something is off with Max, he never talks this much except for when he’s frustrated by his math home works, and that is mostly because he hates numbers.

“You’re right, my Dad is not the nicest person when it comes to his work, but I am not him, okay? You can’t judge me based on who or how my Dad acts. I’m telling you because something does not add up, and I love mysteries, and I think the both of you would want to know about what I saw and heard after I saw Mr Bob came to our house.”

“Wait, this really does not make any sense,” Ru was almost screaming at this point. Everything was swirling inside her head, Ru thinks this could probably what it means when adults are experiencing what they called information overload. First, the strange girl, Jean, showed up saying she had something to tell them relating to Mr Bob’s death. Second, who and what have they done to Max? He’s not talkative per se, but he’s like an entirely different person the moment Jean showed up.

Both of them looked at Ru with huge eyes as if it’s about to pop out of their eye socket, and with incredible reflex both Jean and Max took both Ru’s hands whilst putting everything on the table inside Ru and Max’s bag, and they just drag Ru away from the library right before the librarian even managed to tell them to be quiet for the second time.

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#FictionFriday: Crossover


I lost my siblings in a train accident. That is what I told anyone curious enough to ask why I live alone. But, if I’m being honest, I lost them long before the accident. We believe in different things, and I would have believed it too had there were more times to have, but time is not what I have.

I am not sad, because I know my sister wouldn’t want me to be sad. She would have want me to have courage, and my brothers would want me to forgive myself and to live with more faith in life and the unknown. But, oh dear, it was so very hard to do. I couldn’t save myself, even if I wanted to. But, maybe I can save other people.

I became a therapist for children with traumatic experience. Sometimes the job gets the best of me. I took the dread home, and feeling empty after a day full of therapy with my patients. But seeing them overcoming their traumatic experiences were worth it. It reminded me of when Ed, my younger brother, came back from being abducted. He was a hollow of a young boy, but Lu, my younger sister, convinced me that we can help Ed get better.

We showered him with patience, love, and space; anything he needs we gave it to him with trust that we are the same as we were before, during, and after Ed’s abduction. The effort Lu and I did to bring Ed out of his shell made me want to be a therapist. I wanted to help children with traumatic experiences, because it reminded me of Ed. Doing the job and trying all measures available, reminded me of working together with Lu. And seeing the family whole and happy reminded me of Pete, my older brother, when he and Ed started hanging out together again.

Being a therapist was the only thing I know what to do now. But I am getting old. And, much to my dismay, even I know when I must retire. But, the clinic said I should at least take this one last patient. He had  a horrible childhood in the hands of his relative, he was abused and was malnourished.

I am meeting him today, and probably I would have to reassigned his case to another therapist. I’m good at my job, but I’m not the best. Others can do what I can. It was time to give the next generation a chance.

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#FictionFriday: The Cure.

“No one must know about the cure, do you understand? No one.” She said it with so much conviction that I didn’t dare to go against her will, which is stupid looking back. I created the formula, I did all the trials and errors day in and day out until it became what she dubbed as The Cure. But, hindsight is always 20/20.

We walk calmly, as if we, no, as if I didn’t just discovered The Cure. Well, to be completely honest, she was walking calmly, I was trying to walk calmly. How do you go about your day as if you didn’t just discover the ultimate truth? There is no way we can ever go back to the way it was supposed to be.

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Where the hungry comes to feed.

“Welcome back Sir,” the strange woman said.

“You must be mistaken, I haven’t been here before,” I say in a confused tone.

“Sir, I never make mistakes,” she says sure of herself. “Come, please. Have a seat, and I’ll get you a cup of tea. No sugar and a lot of milk, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am. But how do you know?” I asked, again with a confused tone, borderline scared.

“Sir, I told you, I never make mistakes,” she says as she left me in what I assume the receiving room of the mansion.

“Your tea, Sir,” she says as she offered me a cup of tea brimming with milk. “I reckon you still don’t quite remember nor do you know what this place is?”

“It would be nice if you can tell me what this place actually is, Ma’am. Assuming you never do make any mistakes,” I say as cheeky as possible.

“Sir, this is where the hungry comes to feed, the angry comes to cool down, the defeated comes to practice, the helpless comes to train, the worried comes to be safe,” she says all the while looking directly into my eyes as she took a seat from me. “Now the question is, why are you here?”

“I don’t know,” I say, feeling unnerved by her intent gaze but not scared.

“Don’t be quick to say you don’t know. You always know. Everyone always know about something, they are sometime too lazy, too scared, too ignorant, or too angry to let themselves know about the things they thought they don’t know,” she says sure of herself, again. “So, let me ask you once again, why are you here?”

“I’m angry, but I feel helpless about the things that made me angry. I don’t feel defeated but I know if I fight for the things that made me angry, I will lose. It worries me,” I say it with as much conviction I can muster under her strong gaze as if she was judging me for something. “Did I give you the right answer?”

“There are no such thing as the right answers. Answers are just responses to questions. Come to the next room, you need to see something,” she took my cup as she motion me to follow her.

“And what exactly am I suppose to do here?” I asked, baffled that the room had one of those long sofa where a patient would lay down as they open up their innermost thoughts to their shrink, as the said shrink sat in an uncomfortable looking chair next to the patient. But what baffles me even more was the fact that there was a huge screen across from the long sofa and  a weird looking helmet-like device on the sofa. I sincerely hope that thing will not go on my head.

“If you’re wondering about the helmet, don’t worry, it’s there for decoration and to spook people off when they first entered this room,” she says as she motioned me to sit on the long sofa.

“I guess I’m now supposed to tell you about my problems?” I asked her, as I tried to make myself comfortable.

“Only of you want to. Remember Sir, this is where the hungry comes to feed, the angry comes to cool down, the defeated comes to practice, the helpless comes to train, the worried comes to be safe. Whatever you decides to do solely relies on your choice,” she sat on the sofa next to me, cross her legs, and clasped both her hand on top of her knee, as if waiting until I come to my senses.

But my senses never came. I kept to myself as I wait for the time to pass. I welcome the silence that envelopes us. It was comfortable. I haven’t quite felt like this in awhile.

“I still don’t quite understand why I am here, or what this place actually is, or what I am supposed to do or say to you, or to no one in particular. But, I like it here. I feel safe. It has been a long time since I feel safe. For quite some time, I felt like a part of me has gone missing and I’m always on the lookout for it. Do you mind if I come here again? Because lately I feel like I’ve been fearing for my life, like I am on a constant battle before someone seizes what is left of my true nature,” I sounded hopeful when I made the request.

“You are always welcome here, have a good rest now, Sir. The sun is up and surely you are not planning to go up in ashes now do you, Sir?”



#FictionFriday: The shop.

The first thing she noticed was the sky, how it turned to a lovely hue of blue but gradually turned into dark grey. Slowly the clouds are congregating, as if they have a meeting to attend high up in the sky. The next come the pitter patter of rain hitting her wind breaker. Slowly she brought out her green umbrella. Standing motionlessly under the rain, she can hear all the droplets of water clearly, she can feel the wind blowing, and most of all she can feel the thunder brewing high above the sky waiting patiently to unleash its sound and light.

Slowly the lights began to flicker, illuminating what once was a crowded street but now empty due to the falling rain. She walked slowly, trying to enjoy the splashing of rain around her, the smell of rain if there is one, the flashes of thunder and the quiet street. The slow walk might have something to do with her anxiety over where she was supposed to be fifteen minutes ago.

There was a shop at the end of the road, and they had a Christmas tree set up, complete with twinkling lights that serves its purpose as fake snow. A Christmas tree on a July? The shopkeeper must have gone mad, she thought to herself. For what other reasons could there be for a shop to set a up a Christmas tree five months before the actual Christmas? And yet she can’t help herself from stopping in front of the shop and just stare at the twinkling lights. She pull out her left hand from under the umbrella and felt the rain had wet her hands. She hoped that the water might have turned into snow soon. A foolish wish, she knew.

The door to the shop was open, she was startled, she lost her balance a bit, she thought she was going to fell on her backside, but a pair of bony hands shoot out and pull her up straight in time.

“Oh, dear me. Did I startled you, young Lady?”

The owner of the bony hands was a lady with an all black clothes, from her immaculate top hat to her pointy boots are black. She cannot decipher how old the lady was. She seemed ancient, but young at the same time too, if she were to judge by the strength of the bony hands that pull her up straight.

“Oh not really, I was just lost in thoughts from staring at your Christmas tree. It’s gorgeous,” she manage to say, “but, why a Christmas tree? Christmas is still quite far away.”

“Oh dear, this is not a Christmas tree. Surely you can see this is not even a pine tree. This, my dear, is the tree of wishes. Each sparkling lights you see here represent people’s deepest wish. When someone wishes for something, strongly wished for something, sometimes, we are alerted of it and we try to locate that person and help them grant their wish,” the Lady was speaking in such a soothing tone to her ears, “I would love to chat with you but I am needed somewhere else. Have a good day, dear.”

She stood there, slowly shaking her head as she watched the Lady walked purposefully followed a black cat. Oh, surely whatever this shop is, the owner and whoever works there have gone mad. Tree of wishes? Whatever happened to this world?

With that thoughts in mind, she drags herself slowly trying to locate her destination. The rain grew harder and she doesn’t feel like walking anymore. She saw a bench, she didn’t care about the wetness of it, she was going to sit on it because she doesn’t feel like walking anymore, and so she sat down.

“I think I’m supposed to find you, clearly you’re the only person wandering around in this deserted street. Everyone else has gone inside a building, either to keep themselves warm or just to keep themselves dry until the rain stop. So, tell me dear, are you the one I’m looking for?”

She was close to screaming when she heard it. She thought a cat was saying those things to her. There was a cat in front of her, looking at her with tilted head. The cat has the shiniest black fur she had ever seen. Strangely the fur doesn’t seem to be wet. Thankfully, she realised that it wasn’t the cat that was talking to her, it was the Lady from the shop with the Christmas tree. She was not going to call that tree of wishes, she is not mad, yet.

“I’m sorry, what?” Her question came out like a squeaky mouse if ever a squeaky mouse can talk.

As the Lady took up the seat next to her, she said, “Well, I did tell you about how we go out and try to help people when they have wishes to be granted. We’re like a genie but without the hassle of living in a bottle and wait until some poor soul rub their grimy hands on the bottle. I was told to find a girl who would be wandering around the street, I was told she would joining us in training. Since there’s no one here except for the both of us, and Jimmy the Cat here, I assume you’re the one that I need to found.”

“Again, I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh for goodness sake, mate. I don’t get paid enough to go around and be inspirational and shit and whatever. Look, Are you or are you not Emily Henderson? And do you or do you not wish to join the Fidelia Greenwod Witchcraft?”

“Oh yes. To both questions, I mean.”

“Well, let’s get a move on then. We were waiting for you. I’m a witch but it doesn’t mean my clothes can’t get wet and honestly, the water from this bench is seeping up my knickers already.”


Twisted lies we tell ourselves.

A/n: Not posted on Friday, I know, but I swear it was written on Friday. So it’s still FictionFriday, right? Yeah, it is.

“Where is she?”

“She said she’s on her way to Nan’s place.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Dad is picking her up.”

“And how does that explains anything?”

“I don’t know, mate. I hung up the moment I realised I was not going to have a proper conversation with her. I haven’t had breakfast to deal with confusing conversation this morning.”

What I would give to have my Saturday just lounging around, but here I am waiting for my brother at the ER. He was complaining of chest pain, he fears he might be having a heart attack, which is completely bogus if you ask me but then again heart failure thing runs in the family so there might be some truth into it somewhere.

We were told by our eldest brother that our Mum was to come and meet my younger brother and I at the hospital. I honestly don’t know what to do in a hospital. I’m fairly healthy most of the time, ergo I really am a complete utter trash right now. I really need a proper adult in dealing with the administrative things.

“You know, I just don’t get it. I’m sure Sean said something about Mum coming here after her lunch was done. Why is she going to Nan’s place?”

“Honestly, it’s like you don’t know Mum.”

“I mean I get that that Dad picked her up and he might want to go to Nan’s place, but can’t she just tell Dad that I’m in the ER? I’m sure Dad didn’t know about me being in the ER.”

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t even bother telling Dad about it. Probably she just went sulking about, which is just completely idiotic because how the hell Dad would have known that you’re in the ER. I didn’t call him or anything, neither does Sean, I’m sure.”

“You know, it’s not like I need her here. You’re doing fine so far, it’s just that she promised she was going to come. She can’t just bail out like that, and we wouldn’t even know had you not called her just now.”

“Again, it’s like you don’t know Mum.”

“Are you pissed that you have to be here and taking care of me? I mean, you could be excused if Mum is here.”

“Surprisingly, as much as I’d rather be at home and sipping on tea, I don’t mind being here. It’s just that I’m miffed because she’s not committing to her commitment to us. She made the commitment to come here before Dad told her they were going to Nan’s place. She could have either told that you’re in the ER or just straight up told Dad she promised to come here. I mean, we all know Dad’s priorities in life are a bit messed up. Pretty sure he would still go to Nan’s place whether or not you’re in the ER.”

“Forget it, I’m probably discharged soon anyway.”

“I’m just up to meeting her when she’s back from Nan’s place. She’s always pissed every time she came back from Nan’s place. She always does, you know. And then she gon’ be telling me about she’s pissed that Dad ruined her plan to come here by bringing her to Nan’s place. Like I said, pretty sure she didn’t even tell Dad she promised to meet us here. So, technically she brought it on herself now that she’s stuck at Nan’s place.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she has crazy ass need to have constant drama in her life. She needs to have something and/or someone to blame for things that didn’t go right.”

“Gosh, that’s.. twisted of her.”

“I think it runs in the family. Have you seen how dramatic Sean was last week when he proposed Kim?”

“Hi Mr Chavis, so how are you feeling right now? Still experiencing chest pain?”

“No, I think it has lessen after that tablet you gave me, Doc.”

“Alright, I’m going to write you some prescriptions and then you’ll be discharged. Is this your brother? I need you to wait in the waiting room for the prescription and the discharged papers.”

“Yeah, sure, so what’s wrong with my brother?”

“Oh it’s his gastric acid. Mr Chavis here haven’t been having proper meal at proper times. Sometimes when your gastric acid escalates rapidly, you either throw it up or it suppress your chest causing some chest pain and trouble breathing. Nothing to serious, but he would need to pay attention on his meal and to take enough rest.”

“See what I mean with it runs in the family? Heart attack, my arse. It’s your damn gastric acid, son.”