The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

My life with the landlady and her family was short-lived, though there were ups and downs while it lasted. Some of the incidents I remember were: I indirectly killed their dog because I took pity on her always chained at the pole, so I let her loose to allow her to run around at the streets, thinking she would be like other dogs, returning to the master once they had their fun, but I forgot that our housing estate led to the big road outside and minutes after I let her go, she was run over and became roadkill My mom made Adeline and Alvin let go of the pup Snowy because she was getting skin problems that they couldn't afford to heal. She drove us down to some random school and we just dropped the poor pup in a nearby bush. Poor thing. She was so confused when I looked back to see her, and that was the last time I ever saw the pup. I hated my mom even more for that Soon after, the family received two puppies, a male and a female, courtesy of the father, in which we thought safer if ...

Returning home from Taiwan was both a familiar and strange feeling. For starters, being away so long from home was giving me a sense of detachment, like someone having amnesia and they're trying to pick up the pieces to remember what they have lost. Everything looked different yet same to me somehow, and part of me wish I was back in Taiwan again, on familiar grounds. Coming back to school was even more awkward for me, especially meeting my old friends and my old childhood flame (whom I had a crush on since first grade and rekindled after seeing him upon my return to school) again. They bombarded me with questions of where I've been and how was life and why did I just disappear and such, but of course, I had to deal with my homeroom teacher who seems to see me as a pet hate. School semesters and school syllabus were different between Taiwan and Malaysia (especially a little bit on the timezone as well), and I distinctively remember that I was supposed to be put in Primary 4 bec...

I think somewhere almost to the near end of Primary 3, my mom and I were going back to Taiwan for the hols. It was fun, though the biting cold of winter was no joke. I remember on the second day of me being in Taiwan, I actually spent the whole afternoon with my maternal grandpa, taking very long walks in the nearby park and chatted about stuff, and only came home almost near dark and my mom and grandma jokingly saying that if we took any longer, they'd call for a search party. Being around people was nice, because it would act as a shield for me from being demonized by my mom (because I knew of all things, she treasured face-value and reputation above anything else), but of course, in private, my mom would still whack the socks off me and told me to shut up. Personally I WANT her to beat me in front of everyone so that they will see what her true nature is, but it's wishful thinking. I thought this time it would be a routine holiday where it would be instead of spending it wit...

My time spent with my mother when I finally returned to her care was rather short-lived and in bits and pieces, really, that I barely even remember that time period. Sometimes deep down inside me, I wish I was back at the family's home, and until now, I tend to wonder whether they were upset that I was no longer in their lives or whether they just went on with their lives, relieved that I'm gone, or maybe just plain forgot about me (although when I was in high school I actually returned to meet them once and they were so happy to see me, talking about the good old days when I was around, and that was the last time I have ever seen them). As I said before, I live with my mom soon enough in a double-storey home deep down the district after a public trekking park area, which was also the same route towards my dad's home. Going home was always something I hate a little because we would pass by the same route where my dad stay and my mom would taunt me about "that man"...

After the divorce, life was more or less alright for me. I went to school. I made friends. I had crushes. I had my ups and downs in class. I go to tuition every day. I make more friends there. I learn new languages and dialects (well, mainly Hakka and Cantonese Chinese). It's all good. Except the fact that I was living with my mom the demon and the weekend visits. I both look forward and dread the thought of visiting my dad because every Friday, my mom would ask me if I want to go see my dad. It's a lose-lose situation. If I said no, I won't get to see him and I'll have to suffer being with my mom and her insufferable temper. But if I said yes, she'd throw a fit, demanding me to tell her the reason why I should go visit “that man” and beat me black and blue before releasing me to my dad. If I don't give her a good reason, black and blue ensued. If I give her an honest reason she will freak out and retaliate and black and blue ensued as well (like the last time I...

The very first memory I had was probably being in my room, suckling at a milk bottle and my maternal grandmother looking down at me and talking to me something that I couldn’t understand or couldn’t even remember, and my mother was there as well. I was probably barely 2 years old at that time, and from there, my memories started to pick up, collecting and storing into the cranial archive that is my brain. As my child-like mind began to absorb this thing called life, I began to learn bits and pieces of reality, starting with my own family. My mother, since the dawn of my cranial recollection, is a woman of fine tastes. She was born and bred in Taiwan and a typical city girl who had witnessed the ups and downs of a busy, sociable life of fast tracks and high rollers. She has high ambitions and very headstrong, always wanting things to go her way. I remember my godmother telling me that she was her first and only best friend she had ever made since my mother came on her own to Kota Kinaba...

I climbed the last few steps and heaved a sigh. The huge twin watch towers were in sight, facing each other like two entwined brothers who were so close and yet so far. Complimented with dark green metallic roofs that reminded me of Peter Pan’s cap, they were painted in brownish-maroon, which were the same colour as that old easy-to-learn Malay guidebook that sat in my bookshelf. It technically doesn’t belong to me and I never really have a use for it. One good thing about being multilingual is that it’s a gift that provides you the leverage to communicate and interact better with people. Although, it can be a curse, because you understand everything, even the bad stuff they speak behind your back even though you try to ignore them. My friend Qiang was ahead of me, so I quickly caught up with him, walking around the foundation base of the watch tower and trudged on higher ground to gain leverage to get on it. Before long, we were sitting down on the stairs of the tower, catching our br...

The alarm went off at 8:00 am and Tim drowsily reached over to hit the snooze button. Ten minutes later, the buzzer sounded again. This time he sat up and silenced it. Looking over at Kate fondly, he thought of the previous night’s events. He shook his head. The whole thing was a mess. Some terrible mix up. He still felt sorry for the person whose body was laying in the morgue, and for their family. But the most overwhelming feeling was of relief. When he saw his wife standing in the hallway after the police had left, he almost wept with joy. And when she suggested that it was time for them both to sleep, he agreed eagerly, ready for the night to be over. He ran his hand lightly over her blonde hair and she stirred, still asleep. With a loving smile on his face, he got up to take a shower. Even if it hadn’t been her in the accident last night, he needed to speak with the police and clear things up.  As he finished pulling on his shoes, he leaned over and kissed Kate gently on the ...