A Letter, Or Maybe Not.

Dear ---------,

Some days I still have this absurd belief...this strange idea, that one day I will wake up all of a sudden to find all of this a dream.

I would run downstairs to the Blondeau van that drove me all the way to Hawthorne, and you'd be there waiting for me along with Cuddly, standing under the shade of the rooftop. High school, growing up, planning for the future, and all those scary and confusing things would all vanish into the wind, and you would tell me that it had all been a beautiful nightmare, but I am awake now, and I will be alright. We would be in English class, back when it was still called language arts, and you would  laugh and say silly Emileaf, your verb tenses are all wrong! And why would you name the prince Charles, that's such an awful name. And never start your sentences with and, Cuddly would add. We'd laugh, and there seemed to be no concept of time. Colonel By and Cantebury and Lisgar would be such foreign names to us, because in our minds, we would stay like this forever, never change, and never leave. The play structure would wobble but never collapse; highrock would still be sitting dangerously behind that soccer goalpost; and everyone would never speak of maturing, changing, leaving, breaking.

So now I just haven't woken yet. Is that why I still see a place named Colonel By everyday? Is that why when I try to imagine your face again, I see it so pale and so heartwrenchingly unhappy?  It's all just a part of this dream, isn't it, this beautiful nightmare? But maybe I'll just wake up one day and you'll just be there again and it'd all seem so normal and wonderful.

I wished for a world with no change and endless repetition and cycling, a world where we can stay thirteen forever. Wouldn't you find it boring, if my wish actually came true? I would ask sheepishly. I don't hear you answer. But Cuddly says of course not, Emileaf, even if the whole world finds it so.

One day I cry, because I can't wake up. Maybe because of that alarm clock I smashed a long time ago. Or maybe because this is in fact the reality.

So maybe I have changed. I don't know if it's for worse or better.

Your rants will in no way seem silly to me, however serious Emileaf appears to be. Maybe I wouldn't know the right thing to say, but I will try my best to say things, and to understand you.

I care about you so much more than Firestar cares about his clan, more than kittypets care about their twolegs, and more than Jay cares about his stick.

So be happy for me, okay?
Cuddly and I will always be here for you if you ever feel like meeting us again.

Forever yours in clansmateship,
~E/M/H~

Valentine's Day Drabbles

It was from back when we weren't allowed to gift Valentine's Day cards unless we gave one to everybody in the class. Both she and I were very young (before she had moved away), and we were the best of friends. I watched her sit at the table with a bundle of cards from Dollarama, and she asked me to pick out the two prettiest ones. Then she gave one of them to me, and scribbled on the other card the name of the boy she liked. Those were such happy and carefree days.

~

Mr. Bear used to be named Sweetheart. He held a rose in his right paw, and he held a red, stuffed heart in his left paw, and in white, cursive letters it read "be my sweetheart". Then dad washed him, and the red from the heart and the rose almost dyed his white fur pink. Then the red heart fell off from his left paw, and the red rose fell from his right paw, and when dad scooped him out of the water he was simply a furry white bear. Now, Mr Bear sits on my piano, smiling at me every day.

~

I have never liked candy grams in particular...or hallowgrams, or candy cane-grams, or singing grams, or any variation the schools make up which involves gifting over-priced things in a publicized manner where popularity matters the most.
It was back on Valentine's Day in grade 5, and the young Emileaf watched the deliverers walk into the class, reading people's names off sheets of paper, knowing very well that no one had bought her any. Yet she quietly watched the other children run up to the basket, some receiving 1, some 2, some even 4 little bags of heart-shaped candy, until everyone but she had held an opened packet in their hands and a piece of candy in their mouths. Then she saw the deliverer walk out of the classroom with an empty basket, and she glanced around the room to find every single other student holding a pink bag of candy, a symbol of love and friendship, yet it seemed to mock her, being everywhere but in her hands.
Then they noticed and offered her their candy sympathetically. She smiled and shook her head.
What difference would it make, anyways?
Then the next day, she still found a tiny pink bag stuffed in her pencil case.
Thank you. You are all very kind and friendly people, yet I know I don't belong here.

~

"Rosey rosey rosey!" chanted Violetpaw and Cuddly, for the billionth time of the day.
"Stop it! You know that it could be for any of you, too!"
The three friends had spotted a rose in the candy gram basket, and two of them clearly insisted that it must be for Emileaf.
"Technically it's one-third chance, but most likely it would be Emileaf!"
"Rosey rosey rosey! I wonder who it's from?"
"Gahhh!!"

*Later on in the afternoon*

"Aha, Violetpaw! It was for you!!!!"
"Rosey rosey rosey!" It was Emileaf's turn to chant.
"Hey, it was a prank!"
“Don't care. Rosey rosey rosey!"

~

Emileaf's Valentine's Day mission 2012:

1. Make chocolate with Violetpaw and Cuddly, but will make sure that none of the dysfunctional male members of HLS come within a 2m radius so that they don't knock the whole thing over XD

2. Convince Jay that the chocolate he received was poisonous and that he should throw them out to the garbage can. Then "take better care of the chocolate so that stray cats don't accidentally eat it".

TBC...maybeeee.

Winter Thoughts

Snow.
Outside the math classroom window, the treetops were coated by glittering white, rocking back and forth in the cold winter wind.
The ground was pure white, as far as my sight reaches. Flakes of snow continued to fall from the sky, like a gift from heaven.
So beautiful.
"Emily, what is the answer to question 4 c)?"
"The formula is 4x+2y-9=0."
"Very good. Now let us move on to the next question..."
I exhaled in relief. I was caught off-guard, and I hoped he didn't notice. Not like I really pay attention to math class anyways, but usually I do check once in a while to see if I'm still following the teacher.

"Ugh, It's still snowing!" I hear my seat partner whisper.
"Isn't it pretty?"
"Annoying, too!"
I said nothing.

Winter's wonders are uncountable.
Snow is the number one.

~

Wonderful teachers, wonderful friends, wonderful people.
I do like this place indeed.
I don't like this place at all.

I loved my memories from so long ago. Yet they will be no more.
Long gone. I must learn to love the present.

Amazing talents. Amazing personalities.
People in my memories, people in front of my eyes.
People who have changed. People who have stayed the same.
People who I've known for many years and seem like strangers
People who I've just met a few months ago and are some of my best friends
People who have faded out of my memory forever, like melting snow.
Gone without a trace.

---In Business Class, Bored to Death---

Coldness.
The bitter wind blew past her face like daggers. People hurry past her, staring blankly and unaware of their surroundings.
Or perhaps too aware of their surroundings.

One should never daydream on a public transport vehicle. She remembered sprinting out the back door that almost closed on her at the last second. Ironically, she was daydreaming about a story that took place on the bus.

Emileaf told herself to stay awake as she slowly dragged herself towards the stop. She noticed her bad habit of constantly turning her head and looking around her, as if waiting for someone.

Yet she had no one to wait for.
It was perhaps from paranoia.
Or maybe she just felt the need to do something, rather than standing stiff like a post
Or maybe because she wanted something miraculous to happen.

As Emileaf exhaled deeply she noticed how cold it was already. Everyone's breaths turned white as it came into contact with the cold November air. Can't it snow alreay? December was coming.

Winter is the season of death.

Unconsciously she turned and glanced around again, meeting rather unfriendly, or maybe indifferent looks.
Why did she just do that? Again?

The bus appeared far away, and suddenly she realized.
I am regretting something, and it's not coming back now.
Something about the bus station feels empty.
Things change.
But Emileaf doesn't
And she will suffer the consequences.

Leafpool's Tragic Tale

(A Power of Three Production)

I.
Poor poor poor poor poor
Poor poor poor poor poor poor poor
Poor poor poor Leafpool.
~A/C/R~
~T/H/V~

II.
She once loved a cat
Coward with many lovers
--Leafpool's tragic tale.
~E/M/H~

III.
Crowfeather, that's all.
Liar, traitor, and coward
May he go to hell.
~E/M/H~

IV.
How she fell in love
With that coward Crowfeather
I will never know.
~T/H/V~

V.
Then when she had kits
For him she betrayed her clan
He loved another.
~E/M/H~

VI.
Not medicine cat
As warrior in battle
She CANNOT survive.
~A/C/R~

VII.
I guess she was right
Holly dropped those deathberries
It's worse that she lived.
~A/C/R~

(Nah, no matter how much Holly hates her, she is very unfortunate, and I wish her a good life as a warrior)