Q

        

            

When I was a child, I suspected that there was something wrong with me. I mean, people would not see me. It was as if I was invisible. When I play, I will play alone, in the middle of a crowded place and no one would even look me in the eyes. When I cry, and scream for attention, not a single ear twitched to my screeching scream. I mean, I yelled pretty loud because I was quite sure that I was deaf for a fraction of a second. But seriously, no one turned.

My childhood was the loneliest part of my life.

But as I guess, loneliness fits me like a lover’s hand today. To be lonely is to be at home. Cozy, in my jammies and a cup of hot green tea. That’s what loneliness is to me today.

You must be wondering, “what about family?”

Let me tell you something, no. I do not have a family, I was never with a family, I did not grow up with a pair of humans like the rest of you do. I was just suddenly on Earth. I do not remember myself being an infant. I guess that is quite normal, "infancy amnesia" as they call it, but believe me, I was and still am not owned by anybody and nor does I have anybody to own. I am just me and myself from ever since I can remember. And also since I’ve grown up and everything, I realized that I am invisible. It was not like what I thought when I was a child. People cannot see me not because they do not want to, it is because they cannot. Believe me, I have tried. I bet you are wondering whether I’ve ever walked naked in public before. And my answer to that is, OF COURSE! I am invisible for God’s sake. Why would I not do that? But despite the fact that I am unseen, I still prefer being clothed because the wind is really uncomfortable when you are naked out in the open. Really uncomfortable. It is as if the wind is trying its best to caress you but somehow it will become perverted and I do not want to perceive wind as a perverted element.

Anyway, continuing on why I am telling you this story. Oh my goodness, how rude of me. Please, forgive me because I am not usually involve in any social conventions hence, I often forgot my manners. I am. Well, I am not really sure who I am since I was never given a name before. But I am used to calling myself Q. I do not know why, it is just what it is. I was going through the alphabets during kindergarten, yes I went to kindergarten even though no one asked me to, and while we were going through the alphabets with our teacher, this letter Q grabbed the lust part of me. It was as if I was attracted to this letter, too attracted if I may. So, do call me Q.

I keep getting sidetracked. Anyway, one day as I was sipping my tea in the middle of the night, I felt like there was something poking out of my skin. It was so sharp and the pain was beyond my vocabulary. I screamed but again, screaming can only get me so far. This very excruciating pain left me crumbling, breaking and crying in my bed for three days straight. I cannot move, I can barely talk and I thought I was left to die. And at that moment, there was nothing more that I desired than death, I wished for it, craved, as a matter of fact I begged for the angel of death to come and face me, to tell me that my life in this horrible, lonesome world is coming to an end. But that did not happen. I lived in pain and on the fourth night of my dying days, I felt something tickling my back. Something very light and very ticklish. Though I was in pain, I just had to laugh. I reached my back and tried to grab whatever it was that was tickling the fucking crap out of me. When I touched it, it was soft, at first I felt one, then two and suddenly, there are tons of ticklish crap on my back and it stopped being funny. I tried to grab one but it was attached to my skin and it hurts really badly when I tried to pull it out. When it came the time that it stopped hurting, the thing on my back still did not stop growing. My back was killing me and I could no longer sleep normally. I had to somehow sleep in weird angle so that I would not crush that thing behind me. I lived with that fear that this thing was soon going to consume me if it was still growing for another week. It was not until a week later that I solved the question of what was growing on my back all this while.  

It was a pair of wings.

I did not recognize it because I am invisible and the mirror and I are not exactly the best of friends because it will not and I suppose never will reflect me. I only realized that it was wings when I woke up one day on my ceiling instead of my normal comfy bed. And when I turned my head to my back, I could see these white feathers spreading like an eagle’s wings as I flexed the muscles on my back. I felt alive more than I had ever felt in my entire 19 years of living.

But what are the purposes of these wings? Why was I given wings in the first place? Am I not human? Or an invisible human? Is being invisible not enough? Why? Why was I given a pair of majestic wings? Why?

At that moment, I did not have the answer, so with newly evolved wings, I flew away, from one continent to another. Sometimes I just sat on the tree with the birds, you know, chilling with my flock. But then one day, from up above a tree I saw a girl walking with the world on her shoulders, it was so heavy I could see her aging faster than she should. She was so young, and I could see that all she could feel was pain and pain alone. And not from far from her I saw a boy, he was so happy, but there was no one for him to share his happiness with. And so I flew down to the boy and tapped on his shoulder. Yes, human beings cannot see me but from my experiments, results, both quantitative and qualitative data and countless attempts to interact with them I found that if I touch them, they’ll notice. So I tapped on the boy’s shoulder and guided him to her. By “guide” I meant I pushed him until he stumbled on the girl with the world on her shoulders. And there I saw, a sparkle. Oh, it was so beautiful, I almost cried. I wish I can imagine actual words to describe what the sparkle looked like. I’ll try.

The sparkle was like when the night sky is so dark, pitch black, without a single star present but there’s the moon. Spreading its light, igniting the whole sky with colors which will make memories come to life for those who are seeing it. It is like the only flower in the green meadow, standing on its own, but spreading colors that it possesses to the greens making the whole meadow bright with colors. It is like the most colorful fireworks that are ever known to mankind. It was just so beautiful, and I just knew that that sparkle is what humans call love. They cannot see it but apparently being invisible has its quirks.

Later that month, I have “guided” six persons into one another’s arms and I saw the sparkle igniting with every first look and first fall that they took for one another. And I became addicted.

So I decided to raise the ante. I read from books on Greek Mythology and I adapted this idea from there.  I built a crossbow with my bare hands and I carved my arrows. I carved it finely so that when it strikes the human body, it will not hurt them, but only enough to “guide” their attention.  The first two tries was a failure. First it was too fine and thin that the human cannot even feel it. The second one was slightly too thick from its appropriate thickness and I think I might have hurt that girl’s left buttock cheek. But my third arrow was perfect. It was so perfect, that I could fly and sit on top of the highest trees, aim from above, and “guide” that person into the arms of a lover from afar. And I can tell you this. The sparkle is even more beautiful from high above. Enchanting, fulfilling and an ecstasy to me.

Remember how I told you that my name was Q? It was not until the day that I read the Greek Mythology book that I realized this; my name is a short nickname for another, longer, complete name. My full name. It’s funny how things work.

Do you remember how I told you that my name was Q? Well I still am. But now, I am no longer the letter Q standing on its own. I am Q-Pid. Cupid.

To be continued....

Jazmin.

aufhocker

i used to love rainy weather. i guess in all fairness, everyone loves weather as such. how the rain pitter patter on your rooftop making sounds that have the power to put you to sleep. and the kind of temperature that it provides, the kind of cold that you can let yourself snuggle inside of your blanket without shivering to death. the kind of cold that you would embrace instead of hiding away from and of course with rainy weather, you can enjoy your cigarette more that you usually do on ordinary day. both the rain and the smoke clouding your eyes thus, clouding your mind too. everything just goes blurry at the edges and soon they just does not seem to matter.

i used to love rainy days, until that day. here is what i want to tell you; i didn't know why i can't run, i can't scream, i can't cry. i was just petrified with the sight of a tiger in front of me ravishing my father's inside. it started like any other rainy days, i went outside to puff on my cigarette while my father was writing furiously for his next journal for the daily newspaper, but when i came inside, instead of seeing my father with his hair out of place and papers scattered on the floor as usual, i saw a tiger, yes, a life size tiger leaping on my father and without giving him the chance to even let out a tiny scream or giving me a chance to react to that situation, it clawed on my father's throat then thrust the flesh into his mouth. i was still standing on the wide opened doorway but like i had said earlier, i can't move. at all. as i recall, i'm positive that i was barely breathing at all. i just stood there, witnessing the whole event as the tiger peel the flesh of my father then with its sharp teeth, it engulfed, sucking clean all the blood, muscles, flesh, clean to the bones. right to this day, i can still smell the blood that ran across the floorboard towards my feet and soaking my white socks. when i finally had the courage to part my lips, i projected the tiniest voice that i could possibly project, "please...." i begged. "please stop eating my daddy."

i knew the tiger heard me because it turned its head to me, slowly, and i was shocked to see what i saw. the tiger's eyes, they were so human-like, and it looked as if it was on its verge of bursting into tears and it's face showed nothing but pain and regret. as if my emotion was reflecting upon it. i didn't know if the tiger understood what i said but i kept on begging, "please........ please, at the very least, please let me have pieces of him that i can bury." slowly, the tiger distanced itself away from my father's body and it curled itself next to my father and i saw it's body shiver. i took a closer step, braving myself to go beyond for the sake of my father, and it shocked me as i saw the tiger was weeping, choking on its own tears. and in that moment, all the feelings that i can't feel when i was watching this animal, this fucking beast feasted on my father, i felt all of it at that moment, the anger, the pain, the vengeance, the sadness, every fucking feeling that are related to pain, i felt them all at once and with all that feelings, i  stomped my feet on its feet, its stomach and its head as hard as i fucking could. how fucking dare it took away the only person on this fucking damning world that loved me for whoever i was. how fucking dare it cry when i was suppose the be the one who bleed my eyes! i kicked the tiger with all my might, i took the nearest chair that i could grab and slammed it on the tiger until the chair burst to pieces in midair but the tiger just curled itself tighter and continued on crying by my father's side and soon, i too collapsed between my father and the tiger and started crying my eyeballs out like i should. both the sound of my breaking soul intertwined with the sound of the tiger weeping, creating an orchestra of sorrow.

after what it felt like forever of crying, i heard a voice behind me saying, "i am sorry." at first i was too shocked to move, had the tiger slipped away and left me alone or had somebody else came in to kill me too? if so, i so badly wanted to be killed, to die beside the man that i had love my whole life, but instead of having a knife being stabbed onto my back, i felt a hand, grasping on my shoulder urging me to turn to him. and so i turned. i saw a man but instead with a pair of legs, it was the lower half of a tiger. just like centaur but instead of having the lower half of a deer, this creature had the lower half of a tiger. the tiger that had stole my stole my soul away for eternity. i stared at the creature with all the hatred in the world and i spitted at him. "may God damn you." those were the words that i gritted out from the gap of my teeth to him. and i meant every bit of it. then i collected what was left of my father, all the flesh, his head, his amputated fingers and i held it close to my chest. i looked at the creature one more time before i stormed out of my house and into the woods to find a place for my father to be buried in.


to be continued.

jazmin


confession: i am not really sure whether this is going to be a short novel or just a couple episode of short stories. entah. i guess i am just going with whatever the flow is.

eksperimentasial.

when i was 24, i married my husband who is a scientist. like any other scientists, they all share the same trait that has made them who they are and that is curiosity. my husband's curiosity is on the verge of genius. his curiosity has the same dose as any other scientist, just enough between sane and insane but my husband fed his curiosity with something bigger.

he studies humans behavior, i, by far was his greatest experiment. i love my husband's curiosity but it was what i love that killed me.

my name was marissa. i was caged. yes, caged by my husband in our basement. we lived in quite a large house, isolated from human population. though my husband research is about humans behavior, ironically, he does not like humans. my cage was not that spacious, but much more spacious than in prison. like i said, i was caged, not imprisoned. the cage was the size of what you usually see a tiger in. yes, that size. and in this cage, i was only provided with water that did not taste like water. maybe he took that water from a puddle somewhere, but that was the only source of food that i have.

let me explain further on what my husband's curiosity was all about. he wants to know how long does it take to bring out the animalistic behavior in a person. i did not volunteer. i just woke up one day and found myself with only my sports bra and panties on, and in a cage. he told me to live then locked me up. like i had said before, the only source of food that i had was muddy water. on the third day, he came to visit me with a piece of raw steak. he did not put it in a plate, he just tossed the raw meat at me from afar and left me to my own devices. at first, i was neglected to eat the raw steak because it was raw, still fresh with blood and warm. but after days of screaming and crying and not eating anything, i was hungry beyond words, so i put my humanity aside and gobble down the raw steak. after that, i sat in the corner of my cage and i cried. but after awhile i stopped because if i waste another tear, i  will die out of dehydration. i can't bring myself to drink my pee that was in a box at the other corner of the cage. i just can't.

i did not know how long i was kept in that cage but long enough for me to lose track of time and date. in seven days, my husband would come down and visit me for only twice. he would come bearing some meat for me to eat. i did not know nor did i care what kind of meat he had fed me with, all i knew was i needed to eat. after a while he no longer provided me with water. one day i surrendered myself and drank my own piss. it was bad. and i cried the whole day.

in the first two weeks when i was caged, i cried, screamed and talked a lot but as time passed by, i no longer spoke a word. all i did was grunt and sigh. 

my husband kept his regime on feeding me well. i did not died out of hunger. sometimes he would start giving me muddy water again. but somewhere along the way, he stopped feeding me. thoroughly. i did not receive any food or water for approximately 5 days. i did my living from drinking my own piss, but after a while, the taste of my urine did not only cause me much greater dehydration that i had felt before but such great hunger. the kind of hunger that cannot be described with words. all i can say is, i laid on the floor, clutching every side of my abdomens that hurt, and curled myself into the tiniest shell i can manage and waited for death.

you might be wondering why the fuck didn't i kill myself. well, i tried. there was this one day when i gave everything up and took off my bra and panties and stuffed them down my throat. i cried through the whole process when i pushed both of my bra and panties through my mouth and down through my throat with hope that these clothes will suffocate me to death. but i guess my husband saw what i did and paralyzed me with something that he shot from afar and took out the attire out from my mouth. since that day, i was no longer clothed. 

continuing on when i was no longer fed for almost 5 days, on the 6th day, my husband came down with another person alongside. but that woman was tied and her hands were already chopped off. my husband threw that woman into my cage and said, "bon apatite." i was dumbfounded. did he expected me to eat this woman? i can't and i wont. but i was so wrong. the smell of her open flesh from where her hands were chopped off smelled so similar to what i have eaten before. i get closer to smell, and i heard the woman begged and begged for me to get away from her. but i can't. there was something inside of me that desired her flesh so much until it overpowered my cognition. then i realized, all these while my husband was feeding me with humans' flesh. something inside me clicked. the demon of hunger controlled me and made me tear her flesh apart bare handed. i used my nails and teeth to tear her to pieces and i cried when the woman cried. and i continued on crying when the woman no longer cried. i ate her clean, cut through her skin, and muscles and eat every flesh that i could get my teeth on. 

then my husband started a new regime, once every two weeks, he would toss a person into my cage. sometimes man, sometimes woman, sometimes an adult, teenager and once, a baby. i ate them all, crying as i do so. i had no choice. i was too hungry. 

my victims sometimes came with chopped legs or hands or both. i think my husband made it easy for me to eat, because they can't fight back. but one day, he gave me a perfectly fine man. that man's eyes was terrified. i no longer knew how i looked. i bet i was not that pretty anymore. 

"please... please don't hurt me." he pleaded. "please." but i just walked closer to him. when i reached out my hand to choke him, he punched me in the stomach. i blacked out for a while and when i woke up, i was already eating his flesh. i guess that i killed him somehow. i don't know. 

but then, he stopped giving me food at all. for 30 days, i went on without food. i came to a solution. with my sharp nails, i tear off the skin from my leg and ate them. i drank all of the blood that spilled from my body. ohh it hurts beyond words but that pain subsided as i fill my empty stomach. after a while, i can no longer eat. i was just dead.

dead. just like that.

my husband's experiment was a success. he made me an animal. beyond animal. he brought out the monster within me. something that i never knew existed. 

i, marissa died with my hands clawing inside my stomach, pulling out my intestine for me to stuff in my mouth. 

i am marissa.

my name is the only thing about me that is humane. please. keep that name. please.

jazminfauzan.

confession: cannibalism. wuttttttt~

jazmin's fairytale : Purple Dust

Once upon a time, in a neighborhood far far away, existed a community where the undead and the living lived peacefully. This was the time when the ecosystem between them was not yet broken by what we so called as "progress". And during this time, existed a girl who looked just like any other ordinary girl would look like at that time. But this particular girl who shall remain nameless throughout this tale had a pixie-cut hair with the color of purple. Not the normal kind of purple but the kind of purple that you will make you wonder how on earth can hair be that purple.  A kind of purple that gleamed under the heat of the sun and glowed under the luminescent of the moon. Yes, the kind of purple that defines the color of magic.

And unfortunately, like any other girl at the age of 18, the girl with the purple hair found love. The hardest kind of love there is to love. Every single night after she surrendered herself to this love of hers, she will climb the highest mountain in the neighborhood to get as near as possible to the sky because that was where her lover was waiting for her. She would lie on her back from night till dawn looking at her soulmate, the Moon. 

"One fine day my love, I am going to come to you. Hold my word against me because I will never break it. Just you wait." She whispered. Then, just before the dawn came, when the night was the brightest, she would close her eyes and feel as the Moon shined on her, kissing every atom of her skin. "I love you too." She whispered back to the Moon. 

When the girl with the magical purple hair turned twenty-five, her "one fine day" came along. She had built a rocketship with the help of some of her zombie and dracula friends. You can never imagine how excited the girl was. After being in love from a far for too long, she can finally be reunited with the only love she had ever loved. And....

BLAST!!! 

Her journey went smoothly for approximately 4 hours. Do not ask me how and so on because I am as astounded as you guys are. When she finally met the Moon, oh, her poor little heart crumbled to the tiniest pieces ever known to mankind because all those kisses she had felt before were not from the Moon. The Moon did not shine at all, the Moon was only reflecting the ray from somewhere else. The Moon was never alive for her to be in  love with.

But she was determined to fine the ray that had kissed her more than a million times every single night. So she followed the light which the Moon was reflecting until she saw it. The shine that she had fell in love with from then till now. The shine that was so bright and colorful until it blinded her eyes but never, and I emphasize, never, had she felt so alive. She steered her rocketship  closer to the ray and she felt her tears trickled down her face. The happiest tears.

"I've been waiting for you." She heard the sweetest voice seeping in her ears that cracked her ribs and took her heart away for good. Then all of us from the Earth watched as the girl with the purple hair burned herself to death swallowed by the kiss of the Sun. "Oh Sun, it was you all along. How can I not see." That was her last words we heard coming from her.

Nowadays, when you are just sitting in the park, or somewhere outside in the open and you came upon a dust, purple in color, the magical kind of purple, that is the soul of the girl with the purple hair, spreading her love from the Sun to the Earth.

The End.

confession: just like any other fairy tale, this one too, comes with an advice

spread love, not hepatitis. 

ps: i've been meaning to post this fairy tale of mine for a long time. this was an experimental attempt. so pardon the errors along the way. 

Teratai

how should i start telling my story? should i introduce myself properly or should i go straight to the point? maybe i should start properly. my name is Teratai. i do not know why out of thousands of flowers in this world, my parents decided to settle down with a name as such. Teratai. the flower in which seated by frogs. unlike the real teratai, i am not exactly a fan of frogs. even if it is proclaimed as "so fucking cute" by others. i just don't like them. okay, i am getting side-tracked. let me get this straight again. this story is about me, Teratai, and how i fell in love. 

Kuala Lumpur is a big city, not as great as New York but nevertheless. it is one of the most popular city in our well developed country which was found in the year of 1857 with the size about 243 km². Kuala Lumpur alone in 2010 was inhibited by 1.627 million people, give or take. and i guess by now, the numbers are constantly increasing. and out of those 1.627++ million people in this great city, i had my eyes laid on just one particular individual.

i do not know how can i describe this man as precisely as i wanted to because sometimes when i look at him, i just feel that he is just too big for words and i want you to look at him the way i do so that you will get the picture. he is a soldier. his posture and the way he stands give that away, how proud he stands when no ones watching. not in a proud filled with vanity kind of way but just proud enough. his piercing eyes, i can see them even when i am way behind, stuck between the sea of people finding their way in the city. his stare is so deep that sometimes i find myself drowning in his cornea. the way his hat perfectly covers the top of his head. and his enthusiasm. that is the characteristic of him that is too big for words that i had mentioned earlier. his is just full of spirit and it affects every single person around  him. you cannot walk pass him without feeling pumped. he might not know me but i love him.

everyday after i'm finished with work, i would walk to the place where he usually hangs even if it meant for me to walk another extra mile from work to home. but i wouldn't want to miss him. and everyday, and i will emphasize  on this, everyday as i'm getting closer to him, my heart will just melt. my knees, my very strong knees that hold me upright all day long get wimpy as i see him. my stomach will be filled with more that just butterflies but elephants. gigantic bigass elephants. my head will just go fucking insane. man...... you have no idea what kind of feelings this guy gives me. the way my hands shiver and my pupils dilate. my heart pumping more than once per beat and my very cold feet. how my cheeks flush and my teeth chatter. everyday.

but one day, i do not know where the hell did i get the courage, i approach him. 

"hi." i say. out of gazillions of words i can choose from, i used hi.

"hi."

"nama i Teratai." after hearing my name, his lips starts to curve upward. just, beautiful.

"Ramli. nama i Ramli." 

"askar?"

he nods.

"i selalu nampak you dekat sini. i was curious apa you buat dekat sini so i tegur." dubdapdubdapdubdap my heart goes.

"oh, kerja i memang dekat sini je. that's why i selalu dekat sini. i pun selalu perasan you jugak." and he smiles at me. ohh holy guacamole! he notices me. oh my god..... i just can't breathe. fuhh fuhh fuhh.

"ohh, you kerja area ni ke? patutlah.." come on Teratai, come up with some cute or funny line. come on come on. don't keep on repeating your conversation.

"yep. you kerja area mana?"

from that moment on, everyday after work, i will meet him and talk until it's 9 o'clock then i will take a cab home. i've never been happier.

aku ni jual aiskrim dekat jalan duta. tiap-tiap petang aku lalulah situ. tapi sejak kebelakangan ni aku perasan macam ada benda ganjil ganjil sikit. biasalah duduk bandar memang selalu terserempak dengan keganjilan. sesuatu yang normal tapi, ini lain. tiap tiap petang dari jam 6 hingga 9 malam, akan ada seorang perempuan yang akan pergi ke Tugu Negara dan kemudian berdiri sendiri dan bercakap dengan monumen tersebut. 3 jam lamanya. kadang-kadang, dia capai tangan patung Tugu Negara tersebut dan ketawa sendirian. entahlah. gila kot.

jazminfauzan.

perempuan

ini cerita tentang perempuan yang kosong. kalau kamu orang ada semangat untuk baca hingga ke penghujung, serius, saya angkat tangan dan ucap, 'tahniah'. hebat.

pada suatu hari. ada seorang perempuan yang kosong jiwanya. kosong. tiada cinta, tak pernah muncul rasa sayang, tak bertemankan siapa-siapa yang dibiarkan untuk menetap di hati. bukan bapanya yang tinggalkan dia terkontang-kanting. ditinggalkan dia dengan si ibu yang tak pernah ada secalit rasa kasih pada perempuan. ibu seorang wanita yang hidupnya dikelabukan dengan asap rokok, di tiupkan haruman alkohol dan diserikan dengan maki-hamun. aktiviti yang memberikan kebahagiaan serta keseronokan bagi si ibu adalah perempuan.

tiap petang, musik yang didendangkan dirumah perempuan dan ibunya adalah teriakan yang menyatakan betapa hodoh, bangang, bodoh, perangai babi yang dipunyai oleh perempuan. tiap malam, pipi perempuan bersantapkan tamparan yang berdesing, terngiang-ngiang hingga ke malam. pagi pula, perempuan ke sekolah, dipaksa oleh ibu, katanya, tanpa education, baik kau mati macam bangkai je, babi! disebabkan dia tidak mahu menjadi babi, dia kesekolah, walaupun tidak berteman.

biarlah. ujar perempuan sendirian kerana, buat apa teman jika semuanya bertopengkan syaitan. jadi, hidupnya di alam persekolahan, memang sunyi, tanpa bunyi. tetapi musiknya bersama si ibu masih lagi dimainkan setiap hari. rutin katanya. desingan bunyi yang melekat di gegendang masih lagi terngiang-ngiang. terkesan katanya.

hinggalah satu hari, perempuan di kejutkan dengan deringan talifon daripada seorang lelaku di sekolah di siang hari. lelaki itu berkata, ibunya terlantar di hospital. dikejarkan kakinya sepantas mungkin ke hospital yang diperkatakan oleh lelaki tadi.

ibu. katanya sebaik saja perempuan bertemu dengan ibunya yang diam, kaku, terbaring. bibirnya seakan warna bibirnya sendiri, pucat, putih, dan di hujung bibirnya, ada bulatan biru. persis seperti dia. ibu? panggil perempuan lagi. diam.

mungkin betul.

perempuan terfikir sejenak.

mungkin dia manusia. mungkin dia mati.

betul, ibunya mati. perempuan cuba memanggil. menjerit. memaki hamun ibunya di khalayak semata-mata mahu ibunya bangun, menggubah musik derita di telinga perempuan sekali lagi. perempuan memekik. ibunya tetap kaku. dia pegun. ini ibu aku kah? bisiknya pada lelaki yang duduk dengannya. lelaki mengangguk diam. bukan.perempuan berkata perlahan. dipandang wajah lelaki yang dari tadi diam, melihat perempuan menjerit meludah air di wajah ibunya sendiri. bukan.

lantas, perempuan bangun dan berdiri tegak didepan ibu. badannya menggeletar, seperti tali violin yang sedang digesek. airmatanya beralun indah di kerak pipi. lelaki hanya melihat dari belakang. indah. kata lelaki di dalam hati. lelaki melihat tangan perempuan yang menggeletar naik ke udara perlahan-lahan seperti menari-nari memanggilnya. tetapi, dia duduk diam dibelakang. hanya memerhati kelembutan perempuan yang menggeletar. indah jernih airmatanya, ingin si lelaki usap perlahan. tetapi, sekali lagi. dia terlampau pegun untuk bergerak.

perempuan setan. bisik perempuan di dalam benak jiwanya. tangan yang tadinya berada di udara sekarang, menjadi bekas penampar di wajah ibu. hoi! perempuan terdengar suara dari belakangnya. dia tak menoleh kerana, buat pertama kali setelah sekian lama, ada perasaan yang terbit di dalam jiwanya yang dulunya kosong. seolah-olah, dia baru sedar, yang dunia ini bukan lagi hitam dan putih. terdapat pelbagai lagi jenis musik yang si perempuan dengar selain suara bengis maki-hamun ibu.

ada yang memegang tangan perempuan kuat. bukannya dengan cara dendam, tetapi, berhati-hati, perlahan, walaupun kuat, ianya tenang. perempuan menoleh.

awak. dia dah mati.

lelaki hanya diam dan memerhati wajah perempuan yang ada lebam hitam di bawah matanya, sepeti lima hari berturut-turut, dia tidak melelapkan mata. di hujung bibirnya ada kerak darah yang menunggu masa untuk menjadi halimunan semula. pipinya yang ada lebam biru gelap yang menyerlah. air mata menyanyi lagu ngilu buat si lelaki mendengar.

sakit.

lelaki sekali lagi mendiamkan diri. takut dia akan kecaikan si perempuan kerana di begitu halus dan rapuh. tetapi, dikuatkan genggam tangannya, kononnya memberi semangat padahal, si lelaki takut dia yang jatuh melihat pedih perempuan.

awak. bisik perempuan itu perlahan.

ya? 

tolong. 

lelaki tergamam. apa saja yang mampu dia tolong? wang ringgit pasti sekali perempuan itu takkan terima. daripada wajah perempuan itu sahaja dia sudah tahu bahawa dia bukan jenis manusia yang meminta harta. senang kata bukan jenis bangsat yang meminta. jadi apa yang perempuan itu mahukan daripada dia?

tolong apa? kalau boleh, dan jika saya mampu, saya akan tolong. jawab lelaki  dengan tenang.

perempuan memandang tepat ke mata lelaki. tolong lepaskan tangan saya. 

lelaki tergamam. perlahan dia melepaskan genggaman tangannya yang tadi menghalang tangan perempuan daripada menampar muka ibunya. perempuan yang berwajah derita itu kemudian berikan senyuman yang paling lembut kepadanya dan dua saat seterusnya PAP!

matilah kau perempuan! biar mampus perempuan celaka! binatang! aku doakan kau pergi neraka yang paling jahanam dekat sana! 

tamparan dan jeritan perempuan memenuhi  ruang tingkat tersebut. semua tergamam dan terpegun. tiada siapa yang berani menghalang perempuan itu daripada mencakar, menampar, mencarik rambut ibunya. tiada siapa. semua orang di tingkat tersebut seolah olah faham akan derita yang membara di dalam jiwa perempuan tersebut, yang membuatkan dia terbakar di dunia ini. 

kau matilah sendiri. takkan aku kuburkan. ludah perempuan ke wajah kaku ibundanya.

kemudian dia berlalu pergi.

diam. pada waktu itu dunia berhenti berputar sejenak. 

buat pertama kali daripada lahirnya perempuan ke dunia ini, dia tersenyum. 

lelaki yang tadinya memegang tangan perempuan tersebut ketawa. rupanya ada yang lagi gila daripada aku di dunia ini.

encik Abu, jom balik ke wad. doktor cari awak.

lelaki memegang tangan jururawat dan membiarkan jururawat tersebut memandunya ke arah wad psikiatri di tingkat 2. 

kejap lagi aku ada kawan baru dekat wad! woohooo!

dan 2 bulan kemudian, pernyataan lelaki tersebut menjadi kenyataan.

jazminfauzan

confession: ini cerita lama yang terbiar. aku habiskan.

parallel

i am dedicating this short story to Haifaa Ghazali.
with a message: cerpen cinta buat mu.



this is a story about parallel lines which are always equidistant with one another but never will they ever intersect. this is a story of Jibrail and Ana. how they meet but never really met.

Jibrail

hari ini terlampau berangin untuk hari hari biasa di KL Sentral. entah semacam beranginnya. bau pun semacam juga. yelah, baru balik kerja, dekat KL Sentral pulak tu, memang adatnya begitu. either kau tak bernafas ataupun kau mengalah dan serahkan hidung kau pada takdir dengan harapan, balik rumah nanti, hidung kau lega kembali.

Jibrail menyandarkan tubuh kuyunya di balik tiang. KTM memang kadang-kadang macam celaka. tapi, itu sahaja kenderaan yang dia punya untuk pulang ke rumah dan tidur. mahu tak mahu, tunggu kan saja. sambil dia sandar, Jibrail keluarkan sehelai kertas bersaiz A4 dari beg sandangnya dan menggunakan kelebihan kraf tangan yang dia punya untuk membuat sebuah kapal terbang kertas turbo. Abah dia yang ajar. katanya, dengan kapal terbang ini, sampai ke matahari ia boleh cecah. tapi bila dah besar, dia sedar Abahnya cuma filosofer semata. jarak paling jauh yang pernah kapal terbang kertas ini capai cumalah beberapa ratus meter.

selesai dengan perincian kapal terbang kertas tersebut, Jibrail layarkan dia ke udara dan entah mengapa, kapal terbang kertas tersebut kelihatan megah semacam di udara. terbang, terbang dan terbang sehinggalah kapal terbang kertas tersebut terpacak di atas kepala seorang perempuan yang berdirinya melepasi garisan kuning. riaknya tersentak. matanya membulat mencari tukang pembaling kapal terbang kertas itu ke arahnya dan mata perempuan tersebut dan mata Jibrail bertembung. Jibrail sengih busuk dan mengangkat sedikit tangannya tanda meminta maaf.

sesaat kemudian, keretapi di platform perempuan itu tiba dan beberapa saat kemudian, dia hilang dari pandangan. "comel." bisik Jibrail sendiri.


Ana

She can already hear the train churning towards her platform. She takes a deep breath and let it out. "Today is the day Ana." She whispers to herself and with that, she takes a little step further in front of the yellow line that separates the people from the danger of being snatched by the speed of the train and into the railway which is the exact opportunity that Ana wants. "Today is the day. You promised yourself this." She clutched her hand to her heart, to stop her heart from the pain, the agony of simply existing on this corrupted world. "This is your way out." She can hear the train coming closer towards her platform.

Then something lands on her pixie cut hair. Huh? Quickly she grabs it. "The hell?" She whispers slowly when she sees that it was a paper plane and her eyes quickly squandered across her platform and almost immediately she catches the eyes of a guy, smiling a guilty smile with his hand raised a bit. A second after, the train stops in front of her and the opened doors rapidly vomit a sea of people pushing one another to get out and to get in. Ana gets in.

"Fuck. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will." She says whilst looking at the paper plane that landed on her head in her hand. This thing had denied her wish to die today. But not tomorrow. Before the train moves, her eyes search for the guy who threw this thing at her and she sees him, looking for her and a couple of seconds later, the train moves. She keeps her eyes on him until he is out of sight and from KL Central to her next stop, she keeps on wondering, why don't her eyes want to leave the sight of that guy.


Esok/Tomorrow


Ana

Again. She stands more than a couple of steps ahead of the yellow line. Awaiting for the angel of death to snap her out of this world. She glances at her watch, anxiously waiting for the train to drive full speed ahead against her and how happy she would be to finally escape. And the moment of pain whilst dying, she is going to not only endure it, but embrace every single second of the pain of the train that will soon hit her because that pain is literal and that will be the last hurtful thing that she will ever feel. ever again.

Funny how talking about death is the only thing that is keeping her alive.


Jibrail

Sedang Jibrail sibuk melukis di atas kertas A4 untuk membazirkan masa sementara menunggu keretapi, matanya sengaja melilau untuk mencari kelibat perempuan comel semalam. Entah, perempuan tu bukanlah comel macam Nora Danish or Sara Ali tapi dia cukup comel untuk buat Jibrail tertarik. dengan rambut pendeknya dan cara pakaiannya yang seolah-olah mahu menyorok daripada pandangan dunia. dengan sweater kelabunya dan seluar skinny jeans kelabunya dengan kasut converse rabaknya. entah. serba serbi kelam. "apa nama minah tu agaknya." tanya Jibrail sendirian.

tiba tiba, matanya jatuh pada perempuan tersebut. Jibrail tersenyum sendirian. "ini kira jodoh dah ni." dan kemudian dia ketawa sendiri. lantas dia menghabiskan apa yang sedang dia lukis di atas kertas A4 tersebut dan dilipatkannya untuk menjadi sebuah kapal terbang kertas seperti hari semalam. perasaannya semangat terlampau lah pula. apabila kapal terbang kertasnya sudah sempurna, dia acukan tepat pada perempuan tersebut dan terbanglah ia.


Ana

"Untuk perempuan berambut pendek yang konon lutsinar." was written on the paperplane that appears out of nowhere and landed right in front of her feet. Her eyes quickly scanned the opposite platform to find the guy from yesterday whom she assumed flew this paperplane to her today. And when she found him, he was already staring at her with his guilty smile and a raised up hand, as if he was trying to catch her attention before she even looked at him. His mouth is saying something and it takes awhile for Ana to understand what he is trying to say. "Bukak! Bukak!" She looks at him and she looks at the paperplane questionably. Then she looks at him again with her eyebrow slightly tilted, as a question mark sign. She then points at the paperplane and the guy nods happily. Slowly, Ana unfolds the paperplane hoping for a curse word or a bee, or maybe poison but she only sees herself in a form of cartoon staring back at her. For what it seems like the longest time, she smiles.

Without noticing, the train had already arrived when she folds the paperplane into its original form. Again, this paperplane, no, this guy had denied her wish to die.

"Tomorrow. I will do it tomorrow." But inside, she only wishes for another paperplane.


This, what i assume as a relationship goes on for a couple of weeks. everyday without fail, Jibrail will draw a caricature of her doing something stupid like the other day, he drew that girl pole dancing and from afar, he saw that girl laughed, timidly. And Ana, who promises herself to jump off that railway every day in her life had gotten distracted by the paperplanes. 


Jibrail

"alaaaa, fuck fuck fuck! aku nak baliklah!" jerit Jibrail dalam hati apabila dia terkandas di dalam lif di pejabatnya. "oooi!!!! bagilah aku keluar!!!!!!!!!!!" jeritnya dari dalam lif. gedegang gedegung sepak Jibrail di dalam lif tersebut. frust menonggeng tak dapat nak jumpa perempuan lutsinar itu hari ini.


Ana

Her eyes wander from left to right to front and back looking for that guy. Her heart beats faster that it should and her eyes, oh her weary eyes are teary. "Well it is time I suppose." She says to herself regarding her postponing her suicidal attempt for weeks. That guy, his paperplanes are the only thing that keeps her wanting to breathe until now.

Now, all Ana wants is to die.
From behind the yellow line, she takes a few steps crossing it.
Then, another, closing the gap between the railway and herself.


Jibrail

kalau boleh lari lagi laju, tambah booster ke, pakai jetpack ke, gerenti Jibrail sudah pakai. "sempat. tolonglah sempat." entah kenapa jantungnya meragam tak semena. macam ada benda buruk nak jadi.

fuhhh
fuhhh
fuhhh

sambil berlari, nak bernafas pun tak sempat.


Ana

The train. She can hear it coming. The sweet sound of escape. She closes her eyes. Today. Today there will be no guy and no paperplanes to stop her from what she was meant to be doing for a long time.


Jibrail.

Jibrail dengar akan ketibaan keretapi di platform perempuan lutsinar tersebut. lagi lajulah di pecut lari turun tangga dengan kapal terbang kertas di tangan untuk diterbangkan ke arah dia.

"tolonglah sempat."


Ana

Even as death awaits her, sub-consciously she is still hoping for something to stop her.that guy, a paperplane, a hand, a smile. Anything that will make the world looks livable for another day. Anything worthy of her breathing and enduring this pain of hers. Anything.


Jibrail

"Awak!!!" jerit Jibrail daripada jauh. keretapi makin dekat.


Ana

Ana's ears pick  up a voice among the sea of voices and the churning of the train. Her eyes land on the guy. He smiles at her. She replies his smile with a smile of hers. He waves his hand excitedly.

Ana laughs timidly. Calmed by the presence of the guy.



And she jumps.


Jibrail









fuck.





parallel kan?

jazminfauzan.


confession: i know that this is a long and quite slow. but i am experimenting. please forgive me. but i need to try.

fiksyen 2

klik sini untuk fiksyen episod 1


hai? ingat aku lagi. si pelacur.

hari ini sudah setahun aku dengan Orked.

jangan risau, aku masih lagi melacur seperti biasa sebab Orked pernah bagitahu, "asal bukan perempuan yang kau ranjang, aku tak ada masalah." ya, kami berpasangan, bercadang mahu berkahwin tahun depan, tak tahulah di mana ataupun macam mana, tapi memang kami mahu berkahwin. butoh lah Malaysia. bukankah perkahwinan itu adalah di atas dasar cinta? kalau aku cintakan Orked sepenuh hati aku, kenapa kami tak dibenarkan berkahwin. sial. tapi Orked sering bilang, "Tasha, Malaysia ini negara Islam. aku tak mahu rosakkan ekosistem negara kita semata-mata untuk kehendak kita berkahwin. tak kahwin pun aku masih dengan kau. bukannya kena tangkap basah pun."

kembali pada perhubungan aku dengan Orked. Orked malu dengan aku. mungkin sebab kawan kawan dia tahu yang aku  ni pelacur. atau mungkin dia malu dengan diri sendiri kerana berhubungan kelamin dengan aku. aku sendiri keliru yang mana satu tapi, yang pastinya dia malu dengan aku. contoh, sebelum kami kalau keluar, memang tak ada masalah apa apa untuk pegang tangan, cium pipi, kata Orked, "buat apa nak malu, aku kan kawan baik kau." tapi sekarang, bila kami berdua di khalayak, berselisih bahu dengan aku pun dia tak mahu.

tapi itu jika kami di khalayak. bila kami berdua, bilik kecil kami, masing masing di hasut nafsu, heh, tak adalah dia nak malu.

satu hari, aku tak tahan sebab, waktu kami konon mahu dating lunch bersama, pandang aku pun dia tak mahu. apatah lagi berbicara. memang sepatah haram tak keluar daripada mulut dia. aku confront dia.

"Ked, apahal perangai kau macam lancau akhir akhir ni? melampau lampau!" laungku pada  dia sebaik saja aku balik dari kerja jam 7 pagi.

"apahal kau ni? balik balik nak menengking aku." sambil gosok mata. lawa sial perempuan ni. kalau aku bukan tengah baran, sudah pasti aku akan ranjang dia sepantas kilat. tapi aku marah.

"kau kenapa macam haram dengan aku bila kita berdua dekat luar?!"

"ahhh, bising lah. aku nak tidur. jangan kacau aku."

aku tergamam. itu? itu jawapan dia? aku sayang dia, aku cintakan dia, sepenuh nyawa aku. aku sanggup mati untuk perempuan ini, tapi dia jawab itu pada aku?  aku tak minta banyak pun. yang aku minta cuma janganlah perangai macam bangsat sangat bila dekat luar dengan aku.

"perangai kau, macam bangsat. boleh mampus." dan aku keluar semula dari rumah. dia tak tahu, kalau dia mampus, aku pun bunuh diri juga.

airmata merenjis keluar tanpa henti. muka aku yang lebat ditatarias kini banjir dengan bahan kosmetik. aku melangkah laju ke Restoran M yang bertentangan dengan rumah kami.

duduk.
menangis.
mengah.
letih.

"hey." suara menegur.

aku tersenyum dalam hati. aku tahu dia akan kejar aku.

dia tarik kerusi dan duduk di sebelah aku.

dia pandang aku.

aku pandang dia.

di meja itu, di saat itu juga, dia rapatkan muka dia padaku dan perlahan lahan dia kucup bibir aku. jari jemarinya merayau senyap di tubuh aku, buah dada, perut, vagina.......

dengan 10 mata yang memandang. tapi aku rasa seperti satu dunia yang memandang. lebih ghairah dari biasa. Orked, Orked, kau wanita sempurna.

di tengah tengah kami beraksi, Orked bisik di telingaku, "visa, passport, bagasi, duit semua sudah siap. petang ini kita pergi ke amerika."

jarinya masuk ke dalam aku.

"selamat setahun sayang."

aku, Tasha, adalah milik Orked. dan Orked sahaja.

jf.

confession: entah kenapa aku nak sambung cerita lesbian ni. macam menarik plotnya dalam otak aku.

fiksyen.

aku ada kawan.

dia pelacur.

tapi sungguh, dia tak pernah malu dengan pekerjaannya. katanya, "orang kata aku lebih baik pergi mengemis daripada melacur tapi, entah, tuhan bagi aku muka cantik, badan cantik dan pantat sedap, baik aku gunakan betul-betul. cari rezeki kan?"

betul dia cantik, badan dia, aku yang perempuan pun kadang-kadang inzal dengan pemakaiannya yang tutup-mana-yang-patut. pantat dia? entah, ramai pelanggan puas, jadi aku rasa gred A juga.

aku kenal dia daripada tingkatan 1 hinggalah sekarang, kami umur 19. lama. kawan paling baik. aku dari dulu tahu yang dia tak berminat dengan belajar, bukannya dia tak pandai, tapi, dia awal-awal sudah beritahu, dia tak mahu belajar, jadi aku biarkan. bila kami umur 16 tahun dia cakap, "aku mahu melacur." awalnya aku dengar meluncur jadi aku iyakan. hinggalah satu hari aku kerumah dia dan ternampak di balik tingkap samar-samar seorang lelaki meramas enak tetek ranumnya. aku tak terkejut, cuma terdetik sedikit, "ooh, melacur.. bukan meluncur." jangan kamu orang judge aku sebab aku tak mahu betulkan dia, cuma, entah, aku sendiri tak betul sangat, macam mana aku mahu betul kan dia. lagipun dia sendiri kata, duit senang, banyak.

hinggalah satu hari dia datang di kolej aku:

"Ked.. Tolong aku." pinta dia dengan muka yang merah. aku pelik. gegas aku keluar dari bilik aku dan tarik tangan dia ke kafe dan duduk di tempat yang paling sikit orang. dia kelihatan gusar, mahu menangis, marah, semuanyalah.

"Ok... Relax... Kenapa?" tanyaku.

"aku...... ak.. aku....."

"mengandung?" tekaan pertama aku.

diam.

"kau nak gugurkan?"

diam.

"mahu aku teman?"

diam.

diam.

kemudian perlahan dia bisik pada aku, "ada perempuan, bayar aku." dia tarik nafas. aku tak tahu apa yang dia cuba sampaikan. "dia bayar aku."

bayar. melacur. perempuan? aku cuba sambungkan klu-klu yang dia berikan. "she fucked you?"

diam.

"how much did she paid you?"

diam.

"how much?!" entah kenapa aku makin marah. aku sendiri pelik.

"dia cuma bayar aku sekali. kemudian, aku ajak dia balik rumah aku. percuma."

entah kenapa, aku menangis. aku sendiri tak tahu, yang aku tahu, hati aku pada waktu itu ranap. hancur. berkecai. aku pandang mata dia, "apa yang kau nak bagitahu aku sebenarnya? kau suka perempuan? itu?" suara aku payah nak keluar. tersekat di benak jiwa. mata aku tika memandang mata dia terasa pedih. seksaan apa yang aku rasakan ni, aku sendiri tak tahu.

dia geleng.

"Ked......" dia panggil nama aku perlahan, aku katup mata aku. ahh, payah untuk aku terus pandang dia, baik aku dengar suara dia saja.

beberapa saat kemudian, aku rasa sesuatu yang lembut mendarat perlahan di atas bibir aku. seperti bibir. bukan bibir lelaki, tetapi perempuan. seminit selepas itu, aku rasa ada lidah yang cuba masuk dari celahan bibir aku dan gigi aku.

dubdapdubdapdubdapdubdapdubdapdubdapdubdap

aku buka mata aku perlahan.

fuck.

aku horny.

fuck.

fuck.

bibirnya kemudian melepaskan diri dari bibirku dan perlahan dia kucup leher aku. berkali-kali, leher, tekak, dagu, tengkuk.

diam.

nafasnya dan nafas aku kini disekalikan sehingga menjadi awan tebal di atas kepala kami.

"masalahnya," ujar dia perlahan, sambung kucup telinga aku. berderau darah perempuan aku. bulu roma aku semuanya menegak. jantung aku pecah. air aku mencurah. "bila aku dengan dia, muka dan badan kau yang aku inginkan."

fuck.

jf

confession: entah kenapa aku nak buat cerita lesbian.

cerpen typical.

"i miss you." she said in front of him. as a way of begging him to come back home with her. but he just stood there, stoned face and weary eyes.

"here's the thing, my love. why would you even miss me. i am not even worthy a minute, scratch that, i am not worthy a second of your time. i am not meant to be missed. i am meant to be forgotten. don't waste your feeling on me my love. find a person who's worthy of your everything." he answered with a flat and defeated voice. though he looked like he's feeling nothing, the girl knew that he was breaking silently inside. pieces by pieces crumbling and shattering all over. oh, the girl would do anything, gave her life up just to pick up those broken pieces of him but he already built a wall, separating him from the world.

"why would you say that. come on-" her voice stuck between her low sob, "come home with me. i'll watch all the Star Wars series with you. pinky swear."

the guy stood still, not even the roar of the wind moved him. the girl slowly reached for his hand, took it and put it on her face, "fuck all the rest darling. fuck them. they know nothing about you." she kissed his palm and said, "darling, i know you. come home with me."

"i'm going right back where i belong." he pulled the girl slowly by her face, closing the distance between them thus making the air around them heavier. his eyes stared right through hers, forcing her to see all the painful glory that had slowly tortured him, the hatred, the sadness, the loneliness, the love he had for her.

the girl felt every ounce of pain he felt, right to the core of her bones, carving tattoos on them. "i'll take care of you. come home. i love you."

he snickered, "who am i to be loved, i was made to be loathed, oh, i love you, but how i wish i could love myself too." he kissed her forehead, "don't worry, i am going back. just-" he swallowed his pain and his love just to say, "just, don't miss me."

slowly, he let go of her face, her hand, his body, his soul and his life as he spread his arms wide like an eagle and let himself go from the ledge of the 45th floor he had been standing on.

"fuck you world! fuck you god! fuck!!!!" the girl heard the guy's screamed whilst he was falling and then nothing at all.

"don't you realize, i am dead too now?" and she collapsed on the floor and slowly, she became let her soul fly away.

jf

cerpen

i should start writing short stories again. i need to let my brain to imagine the about the most fiction thing in life again. i need my imagination to run free and wild and restless. i need to learn how to write with or without a muse. i need to be the best writer the world will ever encounter.

or maybe the best scriptwriter.

or director.

or a traveler (i am not sure if that's even a job).

or maybe just a plain old writer with the magic of words.

tapi mula-mula, aku kena mula menulis semula. cerpen. puisi. lagu. aku perlu. harus. wajib. kerana, tanpa penulisan aku, siapa yang mahu kenangkan aku kelak?

kan?

so, brain, lets begin our new journey. it going to be both bright and dark. both colorful and colorless. it will be both scary and fun.

lets. lets.

j