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The Brat

“You brat! I hate you!”

That was the last thing I said to Dwen, my best friend’s 12-year-old brother. He is the world’s most notorious, the cheekiest, worst promise breaker I have ever met in the entire galaxy! I wished he had never exited in the first place.

His name is Dwen I.C., but I call him Dwen the dweeb. I never knew what ‘I.C.’ meant or stood for and I have no intention to find out. He has short black hair which looked a little like Nick Carter’s hair and always has a red and black cap on it worn the other way round, ruining the perfect image. He stands up to my chin and wears a pair of thin white-rimmed glasses and I still remember the prescription; about 100 degrees. He is quite tanned and has those ratty-looking eyes which you which you could just punch them black and blue.

We used to be friends at first, since we met for the first time at his big sister, Melissa’s birthday party. We share the same interests: playing computer games, surfing the internet and watching the same cartoons as well. But ever since that incident, I wished he is never born.

It all started when our favourite cartoon, Mighty Max, was about to reach the peak of the series. As I was in the morning session and could not get to watch it much, except during the holidays, I often asked him to help record the series for me so that I would not miss an episode. When I heard that the next day and the next will be the last two episodes of the series, I bought an empty video tape straight away and passed it to my best friend, Fay, and told her to remind Dwen to record it. I even called him on the telephone as soon as I got home and begged and reminded him again and again to record the show.

“Please, Dwen, please! Don’t ever forget! Please!” I begged him for the 10th time. I was so desperate, as you can see, and it shows what a big fan I am of that cartoon.

“OK! OK! I will remember! Cross my heart,” he replied for the 10th time too.


“Really! If I ever forget, I swear I’ll get what I deserve.” That was when I finally trusted him and hung up. I was so happy that I did not know what was coming.

2 days later, I followed Fay home to do my homework with her and, most importantly, to collect my recorded tape. Melissa said he was not home so I was allowed to get it myself. I recognized my tape immediately, for I wrote ‘Mighty Max’ in bold letters. It was left lying under his bed with his other heap of rubbish like sketching paper, rags, broken toys and computer game discs. After I finished my homework, I ran straight home to enjoy my video tape, feeling jolly and excited all over.

But when I slipped in the video and turned on the television, it was empty. Nothing was recorded on the tape, just plain blank shown on the screen. I could not believe my eyes at first and thought that if I waited a little longer, it will pop out on the screen in no time. Yet the screen still stayed blank for the next 60 minutes, despite my eagerness.

I telephoned Dwen later in the evening, trying to control my anger that was boling like brew in a cauldron. When I asked him what happened to my tape, he just answered nonchalantly, “I’m sorry. I forgot to record it.”

“Why?” I asked, saying as less words as possible so that I would not erupt like a volcano.

“I went to my friend’s house to watch a better cartoon on tape. It’s called ‘The Slayers’, and it was so cool! With the fighting and graphics and all. You should watch it! It’s better than that boring Mighty Max!”

“But you promised! You swore!”

“Yeah, yeah, big deal. The same thing I swear to everyone anyway. It gets old,” he replied in a sinister tone, then insincerely he apologized.

“Sorry won’t bring Mighty Max back!” I yelled and called him all the names I can think of. Finally I called him Dwen the Dweeb and hung up.

I was so disappointed. I know this is childish, but this not fair either! He promised me something and even swore, and yet he forgot about it just for his own pleasure. Since then I ignored him and called him names whenever I see him during visits or doing homework with Fay at their house. I glared at him every time he wanted to talk to me and refused to answer his calls. I began to hate him and resent his presence ever since.

Then last month, I heard news from Fay that Dwen the Dweeb has gone to live with their uncle and aunt at Australia to help them recover from the shock of their only son, Kevin’s death. He was also the same age as Dwen and has the striking resemblance of him when Fay showed me the picture of Dwen posing with him at Mount Kinabalu. She also said that he might be there for quite a long time.

Good riddance! I hope I will never see that brat again for the rest of my life!


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