When I 5 years later..

Where do I see my self in five years I have many dreams and goals in my life. I had aspirations of being a accountant something I had wanted to be since I was take course account. But I realize that there are so many other steps I need to take in order to achieve these so-called goals. This includes graduating from college, finding that special someone and finding that perfect job. My expectations in five years is that I see myself well educated and living my life to the fullest with my son. Now seems to be the time to start taking life seriously and making responsible and educated choices. Now I come to a crossroad in my life where I choose what to do with my future and choose what will make me happy. My plans for the future is having a great job with a loving family who’s willing to support me in my good and bad times. I have begun to realize that I have yet to begin my life everything up until now has been practice, as if I have been in a cage and it is only now that I am beginning to break free and do things for myself. I must work really hard to give my kids a better future so it will be easier for them to concentrate more in school, because without education there’s really no future for anyone. I want to be satisfied with my decisions to be able to accept and forgive, and most of all to be able to live up to the expectations I have for myself and my son. I will only accomplish my goal in being happy when I am able to live my life for myself and still able to provide love and support to others.

Composed by: Aizat Azharuddin

MY IDOL

Many people around the world have a family. It consists of father, mother, brothers and sisters. One of them could be the best one. I have a small family. It consists of my father, my mother and my oldest sister. According to me, my grandmother is the best one in my family. She is my idol over the world.
          My grandmother’s name is Hafsah Binti Talib. She is 80 years old now. She was born in Besut, on September 20th, 1936. My lovely grandmother is in well shape. She is also pretty and very beautiful with her dimples, tan skin, thin lips, and brown eyes. She also has straight gray hair.
          My granny is someone who full with love. She always gives her pure love to her family. She loves us more than herself. She raises me and my sister with her love. She is also fair to gives her love, for instance she never differentiates between me and siblings.
          The woman who has married with my grandfather is also the best teacher for me in my life especially to sociable for other people. One thing of her lesson that I always remember is be useful for other people because we are not an individual person, we need somebody else to help and we have to help each other. I had never got this lesson in my school, just from my granny.
          The strong woman who always gives me many motivations is her. She is the best motivator for me. She always gives some motivations to me to face my life, for instance when I dropped, she gives me a good motivation and I can stand again suddenly.
          My lovely grandmother is also a good career woman. She works as food vendors when she was young. According to me, my grandmother is very responsibilities with her job. She is the best granny in my life.

Written by: Aizat Azharuddin

Supernatural Novel .... The last i never read

All I needed to read of the description was “boarding school for highly intelligent emotionally fragile teens” and I immediately placed myself #1 on the hold list. In fact, I didn’t even read more of the description than that so I could enjoy just letting the story unfold and surprise me. (if you like that experience you can take my word that it’s great and stop reading this review now, otherwise read on and I will give away a few details.) Let me say that I loved The Interestings, but have not been very interested (sometimes actively disinterested) in Meg Wolitzer’s other novels. But really, she is a terrific writer.

I loved the supernatural/mysterious element of this book. I loved the surprises, the emotions, the construction of it. It was all around terrific. And I’ll be honest-I also appreciated that it wasn’t 500 pages and was a fairly quick read, very engrossing, but not dragged out.
I want to call out one bit of the book that I loved and am sure is Meg Wolitzer’s own voice coming through and to it I say, “right on sister! I totally agree and love it that you call this out so specifically.” Near the end, when Jam has had her life changing semester, she says:

“People are always saying these things about how there’s no need to read literature anymore–that it won’t help the world. Everyone should apparently learn to speak Mandarin, and learn how to write code for computers.  More young people should go into STEM fields: science, technology, engineering, and math.  And that all sounds true and reasonable. But you can’t say that what you learn in English class doesn’t matter. That great writing doesn’t make a difference….Words matter.  This is what Mrs. Q has basically been saying from the start. Words matter.  All semester, we were looking for the words to say what we needed to say. We were all looking for our voice.”

Words and stories do matter. They are worth studying, enjoying, interpreting, internalizing, and more.

AIZAT

The Worst Eerie Story I Never had..

Tonight was a cold and stormy night. The doors slammed shut as the rustling sound of the leaves could be heared. The storm had been like this for the past three days. I sat on my bed thinking if I had upset the Gods above in heaven. As I lay my head downsoft and gently on my comfy pillow, I wondered if mom and dad were ok. They had gone for a vacation to the bahamas and I had to stay back because of my exams. I wasn't worried about it as I've stayed alone many times.

Suddenly, the lights went out.  My heart  raced in agony as the storm got worse. I could see lightning lashing onto my gate and the roaring sound of thunder that came along. I  pulled myself together and realised I needed to light some candles. So I headed downstairs with my trusty torchlight and worked my way to the storage room. I found the candles and begun to light them all over the house. I couldn't stand the fact that the darkness was playing games with my mind.

An hour had passed till I realised something wasn't right. I felt as if something elsebesides me was in the house. I panicked. My mind filled with fear but I had to be sure I was right. So, I searched all the rooms on the same floor and found nothing. So I carefully walked down staircase. As I was walking, I realised all the candles that I had lit were put out. I was surprised but aware that there could be someone else in thehouse. My mind pondered as to how i was going to sneak around without alerting the possibly dangerous stranger.

Then, it happened. As I hid behind one of the room's doors. I saw someone walk by me. He was a huge muscular guy who wore a beard and had hair that was so curly a fly could get stuck if it went through it. I was puzzled. Why would someone want to break into my house, I asked myself. I noticed the man had a huge revolver on his belt. Thesame one the cops used. I didn't want to stick around and aak questions. I had to call the cops. So I crept towards the phone and thank God it was still working. I made adistressed call and the cops said they would be at my house in five minutes.

As I crept back upstairs, I accidently knocked over a small lamp and it broke. By thistime I knew the stranger had been alerted. I was scared and feared for my life. My fears turned into my worst nightmare as I heard a loud noise. I was shot in the chest. I could feel blood oozing all over my shirt. The stranger walked towards me whilemumbling words I just couln't understand. I thought I was a dead man. Then a miraclehappened just as the stranger was about to finish me off.  I heard a second gunshot and the stranger was down. It was the cops who had arrived.

I was rushed to the hospital and the doctors commenced emergency surgery on me toremove the bullet. I was then transferred to the Intensive Care Unit(ICU) as the bullet had hit my lungs and I was unable to breathe properly. My parents rushed back as soon as they got the news.  I was lucky to be alive. The doctor had explained that if the bullet had hit me a bit more to the left , it would have hit my heart and I would be dead. Nobody knew who the stranger was or what he wanted. If only I had been more careful, that wouldn't have happened. This is the worst eerie story ever i never had.....

By: Muhammad Aizat

My Only one Animal

In our lives, some people need pet as their ‘friends’. For me, I choose cat as my pet cat. My cat named Puteh. It has a pair of blue round eyes. Usually, at night in the dark it’s eyes will blazed red. It has two pairs of bright pink paws and light pink nose. Puteh loves it when I pat him on his back.

                     Yesterday, I met again with the veterinarian. Before, he advised me to put Puteh on a good diet. Putih seems overweight. He does not like to eat too much, I think Puteh just lacks of exercises. Puteh spends most of his time in my house. So, he seriously lack of exercises. Even if I put him outsides the house, he will just stay there, in front of the doorstep, not going anywhere. What makes me worry when Puteh is outside the house is, there are too many stray cats around my neighborhood. They will fight with Puteh which is very defensive. Puteh will just run away and might end up falling down into the drain. Now, he has changed. This is just because his past experience for the first time in my hometown.

                      Few months ago, my family and I went back to my hometown. We decided to bring Puteh too since he never stayed with anyone before besides us. We started our journey early in the morning to avoid traffic jam. He was quite nervous when the car started to move. Then, he slowly adapted with the long journey in the car. I rolled down the window so that he can enjoy the morning breezes.

                      Once we arrived at my father’s hometown, Puteh ran excitedly out of the car. My grandmother also has two pet cats. Puteh gets along with them very well.  At night, he slept together with us very quietly. Maybe he is too exhausted with the long journey in a moving car. The next day, we went to my mother’s hometown which is Marang, Terengganu away from my father’s. The house was surrounded by durian’s orchard.

                      Unfortunately, in the next morning, we realized that Puteh was missing. We went into the orchard to find him. I am very scared of what will happen to him. On the evening, we had to leave for my father’s hometown back, but we still did not find Puteh. My uncle promised me that he will sent Puteh back if he find it. So we just left there with heavy steps.

                       I had to spend another night in my father’s hometown before we headed back to home. Suddenly, around 5 in the morning, I heard Puteh’s voice. He then appeared in front of my eyes. I stared in disbelief. I was very overwhelmed when I saw Puteh. My uncle kept his promise! I called my uncle to thanks him. Now, my cat is very healthy. He loves to go for a walk unlike before. I think it is from his experience, lost in the orchard!

By: Aizat (AA101 Sec.2)

It Just A Nightmare

It Just a Nightmare?

It was a blazing hot’s day. My surroundings were slowly starting to melt: the trees, the houses, the sky and the pathway to my garage. It seemed that I was about to dissipate as well, becoming a puddle of glue-like substance left on the ground. 

I was walking at crawling speed. My head felt huge and heavy, and each muscle in my body felt sore. My arms and legs were responding to the signals that my brain was sending to them at a slower speed than I thought was possible. It felt like a slow-motion horror movie, only it was happening live. I finally reached the front door and touched the handle with a loose grip. The path that took only a second for my eyes to see took about twenty minutes for my body to cover. But, I was finally at my goal.

I slowly squeezed the handle of the door in a downwards motion, only to realize it had barely moved. I gathered the last reserves of my strength that I had left in my body and pressed the handle again. No success. I pivoted around, leaned against the door, and slowly slid down to the ground. I felt faint. I was so thirsty that I could barely think about anything else. I had to get inside; had to pull myself together and open the door. Otherwise, I would faint there, near the front entrance to my own house.

I pushed myself up from the ground and faced the door again. I closed my eyes for a second, took a deep breath, opened them, and pulled the door knob down as hard as I could. It gave way grudgingly. If it wasn’t for the helpless shadow of a man that I was at that moment, I would definitely have screamed in happiness for finally winning over this stubborn door knob. But I could only settle on a weak smile and a deep sigh.

I went inside and had to wait for a minute before I could make out my environment. It was too dark, still boiling hot and, somehow, lonely inside. By the time my eyes adapted to the darkness inside, I could tell that no one was around. What time was it? And where was everyone? The house was completely and scarily quiet. The silence was unnatural. There was no sound coming from the working fridge, or ticking clock; nothing. I went to the kitchen to get some water, opened the tap and put an empty glass under it. But no water poured, not even a drop. The glass remained empty. This seemed like a complete nightmare. I thought that I must have been dreaming – my small world had become ravished by emptiness, and somehow, I was forgotten here all alone, left to pass away into the realms of thirst and heat.

I was having a panic attack. Yet with the panic, I was enabled by strength to run from one room to another, looking for anyone besides myself. Mom, Josh, dad, Charlie – no one was to be seen. The dogs were gone too. What is wrong with my home? Again, for the third or fourth time, I caught myself thinking this was just a bad dream. But my body still vividly felt the pains of soreness. Having no clue of what else, except the pain, that could help me distinguish between dreaming and reality, I had to accept the fact that I was living in this nightmare for real.

Suddenly, I heard a sound from downstairs. It was a faint sound that repeated in a second, only louder. I jolted downstairs, feeling cautious and, at the same time, hoping that it was someone, or something, that could explain to me what was going on.

The living room was empty. The source of the sound seemed to be from the back porch outside, and it was increasing in volume with every new cycle. It reminded me of when dad and I went rowing, and every time dad turned over the oars, they made the same whistling sound, cleaving the air. I ran outside the back door and was almost brought down to the ground by the force of the wind. It was a helicopter, right above me, maneuvering so that it would land on me. I laid on the ground, screaming, but I couldn’t hear my voice through the noise of the implacable blades getting closer, and freezing me to the ground….

… “My dear, wake up! It’s just a dream. You look so pale. Are you okay?”

My mom was standing next to my bed like a guardian statue. She tried to appease me as I was still screaming and flapping my arms. When I calmed down to a relative level of normalcy, I stared at the fan above my head, spinning and whistling like a nightmare creator.

By: Muhammad Aizat

WHO AM I AFTER 5 YEARS?

Hi!!! This is Izzat and this is my last post. And for this last post, I going to write about my future in the next 5 years. 

It hard to say what I am going to be after five years because my future plan had been changed by my father. In my plan, now I should study culinary! Not accountaancy that I realy dislike.

Maybe after 5 years, at last I can study Culinary and at least had diploma of it. At the same time maybe I am busy writting novels because that is my dream since I in standard 6 after reading novels Ain Maisarah. 

I think's that is all. Thanks for spend your time to read all my post since the first time I create this blog. Thanks a lot...

Written by Izzat Imran