Rooney Warrd leaves for another country today.

Oh yes, she is a horrible being for leaving me in this over populated borough filled with either rich high class people or some other Asian people.

Then again I am terribly selfish and insensitive for saying that.

This "thing", according to her, was much unplanned and all of a sudden, it had something to do with a business deal, something about her parents' company being moved or let's say "relocated" to another place for better purposes and whatever reason there is. I am honestly not interested to further explain it since I am very sad.

Not the "sad" depressed, just the emotional "sad", you know what I mean.

And since Rooney isn't much of a "direct" person either (by direct I mean, not being good in confronting a person in the most important hour in her whole life, then again I'm exaggerating. This happened right before the beach trip, so, it happened when it was the official start of the Christmas break.


Rooney and I were cleaning the dishes after we ate a really "too good for my life" meal of Mrs. Warrd's famous "Pan Roasted Chicken with Lemon Garlic Beans".

"My goodness, your mom cooks really really really really good, she should really try baking, I bet it's gonna taste like complete heaven, I bet she can even beat those Japanese cakes."

"I know, right? " She was scrubbing off the pan with the excess oil in it. She was in soaping duty and I was in rinsing duty.

Hmm, odd, old Rooney would have denied the Japanese cakes thing and would have said something like "NO, YOU INSANE PERSON, not Japanese cakes, those are total heaven, like it was made by God himself. Maybe if she did bake, it would have been better than those cakes in The Confectional."


"Did you hear about the Coldplay concert coming up this month? We should really watch together, I have already spent my days watching Youtube videos of them live, my goodness they're amazing." I was looking at her carefully, apparently, she's not even bothering to have eye contact, yeap, something's definitely up.

"Oh cool, you should really watch then, I bet it's a once in a lifetime gig, haha."

That was a really awkward laugh at the end.

"Did you hear what I said Rooney? I said we should really watch together. And Rooney, you've been scrubbing that pan the whole time, I think it's pretty clean now."

"Oh right, yeah, listen Fize, you ever heard of those relocating company deals thing?"

She finally handed me the pan and I started rinsing it.

"Um, I don't think so, maybe I heard it somewhere. Why?"

"Oh nothing, just wondering if, hypothetically speaking, that if I -"


Oh, Rooney has a brother named Rocco, and yes, he is incredibly good looking too.

If I say that he is incredibly good looking, maybe he would not make an appeal to you since we may have a difference in taste, but I will describe him anyway.

Imagine, the most tragic but beautiful story you have ever read, it can be something by Chbosky, or Salinger, or Green, or any other amazing author, imagine feeling the sudden liveliness or joy when you read it, it's like, you're taken by the pages of the story, it's like you're glued to the pages since you seem so captured by it. That's how gorgeous he is; maybe I'm describing him like that since I used to have a crush on him when I was still in the 6th grade I guess. Okay, to make things simple, I would describe him in "English".

He has a pair of brown eyes, not the ordinary Asian dark brown eyes that we see everywhere in this neighbourhood, brown eyes, maybe the color of the lovely pages of an old library book, the old book that has that "certain" smell, that really good smell. Anyway, yes, the colors of his eyes are like the old library book pages, yes, I know my comparisons are "unusual". Anyway, his build isn't that bad too, I don't mean those scary Venice beach boys build, those builds looks like they're on steroids or something, plainly, not the scary BIG build. Rocco's build is actually like, a "Holden Caulfield" but a tad bit more formed.

As you can see, I am a sucker for those lanky guys. Oh, just weep for me-

"Don't call me 'Ron', what do you want?"

"Well, RON, mom's asking where your boxes are, she said that it has to be ready by this week since there won't be any more time when your lazy ass finally agrees with your brain to fix your stuff."

"Okay, people don't just come in and interrupt people when they're -"

"Hi Fize! I'm sorry for 'this', it was a direct order by 'The Boss' so it was rather important, I'm sorry you have to be stuck with my lazy ass 'kin' here."


Oh the joy of pissing off Rooney

"No problem Rocco, it's all good, we weren't talking about anything important anyway." Oh my goodness, talking to him makes me feel so giddy.

Boxes… Pack… This is really leading to something or somewhere, I am positively sure that what I'm thinking is about to happen.

"So, what are the boxes for anyway?"

I am hoping for another answer. I was hoping for the good old 'Oh we're just having a spring cleaning thing.' Or the 'Oh, we're donating some of our stuff to charity, no biggie' or the "Oh, we're just planning to put them in the den cause there's not a lot of room left.'

She stopped soaping and I stopped rinsing. Then we had a stare down.

No, we did not have a stare down.

"Ta daaaa!" said Rooney, while doing those Jazz hands like what a show girl would do.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh you loser! Oh how humanity weeps for you! You did NOT tell your BESTFRIEND that we're leaving? What? So you were planning to tell her while you guys are swimming in the water? 'Oh hey Fize, by the way, we're leaving for another country in a few days' Oh you poor creature, Rooney."

"You. Are. A. Douche. I was getting to that until I was interrupted by your insensitivity. Last time I checked, I remember this was only a conversation between me and Fize, AND, words hurt Rocco, not everyone is as insensitive as you."

OH NO, it's Rooney's death stare.

"Humanity STILL weeps for you dear Rooney."

Well, he did get out of the kitchen

" 'Ta da' what, so, you're moving ey?" Surprisingly, I don't feel mad like those girls in the TV, those girls who would actually get all pissed and would want to (forgive my language) "bitch slap" the friend and would stomp of the room dramatically and wait for the friend to go to them and explain and apologize and the whole drama scene goes on.

Actually, there are billions of things that I wanted to say (an exaggeration again)

Then again, the only word I was thinking of was "WHY". Why this, why that

Why. Why. Why. Why.

I am being left by my only friend in this forsaken place, actually, better yet, being left in that forsaken school which we have to get back to in 2-3 weeks.


Why am I a sad sad sad pessimist?


"You know, it ain't that bad right? There's the internet Fize, bless the soul of the person who invented it, besides, I bet I'm coming back here when the holiday seasons kick in, you should smile, people deserve to see that pretty smile."

I was sitting on her stripped bed, stripped were the bed sheets that were now covered with a sunset like ray, illuminating the whole room and bringing all the delicious sun rays in our profound system.

"Yeah, I know, and you can buy me the books that I always wanted and mail it to me so I won't have to spend money anymore."

I was staring at her study desk.

Gone was the corkboard that was sticked by those sticky thumbs, or maybe thumb tacks, gone were her pictures of our adventures throughout the borough of the wrecked.

While we were still in the 6th grade, we'd always take pictures whenever we would go around the sun kissed pavements along with our bikes, her bike was the better one, it had the big old wheels that seemed like it came from the 17th century, and it was purple, an electrifying purple with streamers on the handle bars, she'd place stickers of her name tags all over her bike, but the bike never lost its beauty, for some reason, even it was covered with the names:


there was that feeling, of being accepted I guess, maybe it was because I find blemishes on the skin beautiful, by blemishes I mean scars, pimples, zits, whatever the definition of "blemish" is. I just find it creepy, well not really, just odd, that people who have the skin that feels like rose petals or have a complexion the color of skim milk or have a height of a sky scraper wherein King Kong can climb any minute. (Yes, my comparisons are a little weird) it's just weird; it feels too perfect for our world, just too perfect. Since our world isn't perfect at all, why will there be a perfect human being?

"Hey Fize, you okay there? You do realize that there is a waterfall coming out of your windows to the soul."

Ah my good life, yes, I was in fact crying and I didn't notice it, I am indeed an oddity.

"Yeah I'm fine, I'm being sentimental Rooney! You always wanted me to have more feelings right?"

"Please stop it Fize! My nose is getting all red and hot now, please stop. Fize, we're gonna see each other again! Just like what we promised, we're going to Peru, Machu Picchu here we come right? Just imagine Morocco, Switzerland, Greece, Bangkok, we're even going to New Orleans to hear the jazz and to taste the beignets and that Buddha Mountain place in China! Just like what we promised, we're gonna be vagabonds for 1 year! God Fize, stop it, I don't want to leave the house with this depressing memory, and I don't want my stupid brother to see me like this okay?"

Ahhh Rooney, always making jokes even in the darkest hours of her life, same old Rooney.

"Yes yes Rooney, see? I'm okay, you're oka-"

"We're okay." She knew me too well.

This sucks.

Sadly, we are the victims of our own faults.


Helloooo? I don't think anyone's reading my stories ... I understand, it sucks, I know, but can you at least gimme some constructive criticism? please? :D no? okay... :( tell me what you think please! I really need to improve my writing, so sorry friends, i'm really hoping things will change, thanks :)

ohyes, please, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :D