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studyblxrr · 4 years

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Singapore Scholarship Interview Questions and Experience

Overview of scholars’ programmes and scholarships for which I went for interviews:

Scholars’ Programmes: 1. National University of Singapore (NUS): University Scholars’ Programme (USP) 2. National Technological University (NTU): CN Yang Scholars’ Programme

Scholarships: 1. Civil Aviation Authority of Singapore Local and Overseas Scholarships (CAAS) (2 rounds) 2. National Technological University: Nanyang Scholarship 3. National University of Singapore: NUS Merit Scholarship (2nd tier; 1st round)

This post has been long overdue but... After my GCE ‘A’ Level a couple years ago, I applied for a number of scholarships and scholars’ programme locally. However, when I was shortlisted for the interviews for these, I realised there were very few platforms on which they actually shared in-depth information about how the interviews are conducted so now that I’m kind of done with all my interviews, I’ve decided to compile everything I went through and share it with you guys. I was actually also just shortlisted for the MOH Healthcare Merit Award / Scholarship interview, but declined to attend it (so I’m sorry to those who were curious to know what the interview would be like) because I’ve decided to enrol into CN Yang Scholars’ Programme. I’ll give you a breakdown of the reasons why in a bit. All right, enough rambling, now it begins!

CAAS Scholarship Interview

Result: Not offered (honestly because I did ZERO preparation for the actual interview lol halp)

There were two rounds of interviews for this scholarship. The first involved something like a ‘roleplay’ where we discussed how we would solve a simulated issue. I passed this round. Honestly, just speak up and try to ‘put yourself out there’ more, so that the interviewer / observer can hear your opinions better and ‘get to know you’ more easily.

The second round of interview is way more formal, with a panel including about 4 management/executive-level guys. I’m pretty sure one of the Directors was there. Since I did not pass this round, I won’t share my answers back then, but I think the trick is to really read up on Singaporean current affairs beforehand, read some opinion pieces (maybe from the newspapers forums), and know about CAAS well!!

The Interview Questions:

1. Tell us about yourself. 2. What are some of your strengths and weaknesses? 3. What do you know about CAAS?

4. Do you think females should also partake in NS? --> I answered this question very poorly (I think), but the interviewer then told me that I could’ve said something like... ‘females also serve the country in different ways, such as in the public sector, in their daily contributions to the workforce and even taking care of their children and their families for the future...and military / NS is not the only way one can contribute to Singapore’s society’

I can’t really recall the rest of the questions, but good luck!

NUS USP Interview

Result: Offered Summary of benefits: Basically a programme that entails 2 years of compulsary on-campus living (NOT sponsored accommodation, but simply a requirement of the programme) that focuses on critical thinking skills and nurturing all-rounded thinking regardless of courses pursued; known to be pretty rigorous, involving classes even after ‘lesson hours’ and intensive writing; according to my seniors, this programme really trains your writing skills so it kind of helps in the long run, with writing theses and all that. pretty cool programme imo.

The Interview: this was a pretty chill, casual interview if i’m completely honest. there were 2 interviewers -- a prof of the programme and a USP alumni.

Q: Tell us about yourself, in terms of how your life has been and what got you interested in USP. A: Well, I’d like to think that I have led quite a unique life in that I spent the first 10 years of my life living in Malaysia. And because my entire childhood was spent there close to nature, it shaped my thinking such that I have a greater appreciation for more hands-on and experiential learning. So, even when I came to Singapore for primary education onwards, I was constantly seeking ways to achieve a more balanced, and exciting education path for myself. For instance, in secondary school, I tried my hand in community service, which made me realise my passion for people (etc. etc. etc.); and then in Junior College, I decided to pick up photography because I realised that I was lacking the more ‘artistic’ aspect of life. So I did that, alongside my original interest in community service, which I continued to pursue with my own self-initiated Fundraising projects. Why I’m interested in USP is because I realised that there are multiple tiers to it that allow me to be exposed to a wider variety of knowledge fields and skill sets, and also more abstract and humanities-focused courses even though I’m interested in joining a science course.

Q: You mentioned that you spent the first 10 years of your life in Malaysia, can you tell us more about what you think of the sense of rootedness you have towards Singapore vs Malaysia? A: (I’m assuming this is pretty specific towards my previous answer and probably none of you will be asked this as well so I’ll skip on what I replied; but I gave a pretty neutral answer, saying that I’m thankful towards M’sia for having shaped me as a child to think the way that I do today, and towards S’pore for the opportunities I have had to grow even more as a more mature person etc.)

Q: What was your community service project about and what did you learn from it? A: It was a fundraising project that aimed to raise funds so that the organisation we were working with would be able to continue to sustain its operations, and fulfil its aim of keeping all its programmes free of charge. Because I was the student leader of this project, I was in charge of coordinating recruitment, attendance as well as liaising with managements to host our fundraising events. So through these, I was able to learn how to communicate better with others and negotiate for better terms for my project. Because I was doing this along with exams, and another year-long tuition programme for less fortunate children, I also learnt to manage my stress and the importance of pacing myself so that I would not overwork and burn out.

Q: Speaking of non-profit organisations, what do you think of them in general? A: I feel like ultimately, non-profit organisations are still businesses that require a certain amount of profit and/or revenue to continue sustaining their operations. So, in the end it’s still a lot of communicating with other for-profit businesses to sell their efforts so that they would be sponsored, and so that others would be enticed to give back to the community by helping to sustain the non-profit organisations. My fundraising project was actually able to give me more insight into the behind-the-scenes of running a non-profit organisation, and we realised that even donations had to be audited and checked, and the staff still had to be paid. etc. etc. etc.

Q: What do you think sets you apart from your peers such that you will be able to excel under USP? A: I believe that I have the passion and the drive to keep up with the rigorous programmes and classes at USP. I am also very ambitious, so I will constantly strive to improve myself. Because I’ve always been very receptive to both the sciences and the humanities and have equal appreciation for both, I am also confident in understanding and adapting to the style of USP. I also think that because of my experiences, I will also be able to bring more unique ideas to the table as USP and contribute to more meaningful discussions.

NTU CN Yang Scholars’ Programme Interview

Result: Offered Summary of benefits: Includes the Nanyang Scholarship and guaranteed overseas final year research project (5 to 8 months), guaranteed overseas exchange for one semester, guaranteed four years of stay in NTU halls of residence, opportunities for research attachment from Year One onwards, opportunities to attend an international conference with full subsidy, opportunities to meet top leading scientists and academics, opportunities for PhD study at NTU or Joint PhD with partner university (Minimum CGPA of 4.00 for application of a scholarship from NTU)

The Interview: again, a pretty chill, pretty brief interview. there was only 1 interviewer.

Q: Tell me briefly about yourself. A: (summarised achievements + passions/interests)

Q: Do you intend to do a PhD after you graduate with a Bachelor’s Degree? A: Yes, because........ (just talk about furthering your passions and a PhD honing new skills...)

To be honest, the rest of the interview was mostly the interviewer explaining what the scholarship and scholars’ programme would entail. It was quite an easy breezy interview.

NTU Nanyang Scholarship Interview (under SCBE)

As my first-choice course was Chemical Engineering, naturally I had my Nanyang Scholarship interview under the School of Chemical and Biomedical Engineering (SCBE), with the Academic Chair and an administrative staff as the interviewers.

Result: Offered along with ADDITIONAL LEAD AWARD Summary of Nanyang Scholarship benefits: Full coverage of subsidised tuition fees (after Tuition Grant), Living allowance of S$6,500 per academic year, Accommodation allowance of up to S$2,000 per academic year (Applicable to scholarship holders who reside in NTU hostels only), Travel grant of S$5,000 for an overseas programme (one-off), Computer allowance of S$1,750 (one-off)

Summary of LEAD Award benefits: can expect up to SGD$6,000 reward in the form of one of the following four options: (1) $1,500 cash award per semester (max 4 semesters); or (2) Overseas Internship for 2 months at MIT or other world renowned overseas laboratories for research; or (3) Leadership development/ conference/ workshop; or (4) Overseas study trip

--> Trick: if you ever get such a top-up award, just opt for the cash grant as that’s the easiest to reap the full benefit. You’re better off sourcing for your own internships, as the MIT ones are not guaranteed to be available for your cohort, or there might be more administrative procedures for that.

The Interview:

Q: Tell me about yourself. A: (summarised achievements + passions/interests) -- you can talk a little bit about why you chose to study your course of choice

Q: Tell me more about your leadership positions in JC and secondary school. A: (again, summarise your achievements - phrase them in such a way that you end with a positive result that YOU helped to achieve)

More follow-up questions about past work experiences...honestly, just answer from your heart and be truthful. They don’t bite.

Afterwards, they pretty much just started telling me about the scholarship and how I can benefit from it. Following that, they offered me the LEAD Award top-up, which I did NOT see coming but was very flattered by.

NUS Merit Award Interview (under Faculty of Science, Pharmacy)

Result: Offered Merit Award (2nd tier) Summary of benefits: Tuition fees (after MOE Tuition Grant subsidy), S$6,000 annual living allowance, S$2,000 one-time computer allowance upon enrolment, Guaranteed an offer of a 1-semester Student Exchange Programme (SEP) with one of NUS’ overseas partner universities, Guaranteed offers of on-campus accommodation for the first 2 years of undergraduate studies, provided the Scholar submits a complete hostel admission application every year within the prescribed application periods, and fulfils NUS’s eligibility criteria for NUS on-campus accommodation.

The Interview:

I have to say that this was one of my worst interview experiences. The questions were pretty standard at first, asking about (again) yourself, your past experiences, why you chose your course of study. But after a while it took a dark turn. So, by this point I’d already been accepted into the Pharmacy course, so I was merely interviewing for the scholarship and NOT the course. Yet, the interviewer (one of 3 in the panel) started to bombard me with questions about why I got a B in A Level Chemistry (FYI: I had all A’s and a B in H2 Chem), what went wrong (his words, not mine), why I deserved to be given a scholarship IN SPITE OF THE ‘B’, what I will do to overcome this stupid shortcoming...... blah blah blah EXTREMELY TERRIBLE AND ELITIST INTERVIEWER.

But again, that was my experience. I could’ve just gotten a really mean interviewer. Just go in with an open mind. But I left the interview feeling really looked down on and...shamed. Which is sad because now that I am way past that, I wish I had gone back in and told him that grades are not what make a person.

And with that, we have come to the end of this reeeeeeally long (and overdue) post.

If any of you guys have anything to ask me about scholarships / scholarship application processes in Singapore, feel free hit me up in the ask box! :) Hehe.

Oh, and if you were curious, I accepted the C N Yang Scholarship + Nanyang Scholarship (with SCBE LEAD Award) in the end. If you would like me to talk more about how I am finding NTU life, how each Scholars’ Programme works, how I am benefitting from my scholarship, and so on, do ask away! (https://studyblxrr.tumblr.com/ask)

PS. For those of you who might be curious, my profile of entry was A’s in H2 Biology, H2 Math, H2 Econs, GP, PW and a B in H2 Chemistry. I was originally from the Raffles IP programme, with experiences in a fundraising CIP project and a year-long tutoring volunteer programme as ‘extra-curricular highlights’.

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panopticon-entertainment · 2 years

Text

Thrill

“But I can’t face that I miss that we were...”

In which Vela receives strange company for a night of unreality.

His boots were taller than his sternum to temple. He tended to hide in the backrooms of the club unless he saw something there for him. He was beautiful and decorated like a metal working piece. But he hid in the rubble and debris. He preferred this corpse of a building that kissed his club. With a cigarette in his mouth, he leaned out the window that was swarmed by the littlest of bright pink roses that at this point of year had wilted and were held onto by stem and thorns vainly hoping to stay lovely. From this vantage point he could see the folks who dared the district on this rainy, late autumn night, but they could not see him.

He felt hands rest themselves on his leather wrapped hips. The hands touched and tugged a little. He turned and the fellow released.

“Someone’s here for you, Mr. Vela,” His rocky voice softly declared. His eyes hungry.

Vela leaned off the window and shifted to leaning his backside on the wall. He inhaled on the cigarette. His face void of energy as Owner stepped toward him, “It’s beautiful out there. I don’t want to hole up in a room tonight. Did they really ask for me?”

“It’s that boy. The friend of Gary.”

Vela shook his head, “Send him home, I can’t-“

“You’re here, aren’t you? I’m not paying you to look out windows.” Owner kept Vela looking at him.

“Don’t pay me tonight them,” Vela turned his head and glanced out the window.

“What? Are you waiting for something?”

Vela formed a very full response in his head but held his tongue. He muttered, “No,” and looked back at the other.

Owner smiled. “Ok,” he slipped his fingers around one of the straps low on Vela’s outfit. A little yank to keep his attention, “Go out and deal with the kid.”

Vela removed Owner’s hands from him and stepped away. He threw the cigarette on the cracked cement floor and stomped it out with his boot, “Aye aye.”

“That’s my boy.”

Vela ignored the taunt and walked himself back to the barrier. The club was so bright so full of life. A mirror of the burnt hell behind it. People, lights, beauties on stage, and clean floors. The floors were ceramic black and white, but the stage’s LEDs lit the whole open space magenta. Everything was pink tinted. Everything but the blackness seen outside the windows. The crowd was inclined to keep in groups tonight. There was no large movement on the open floor. A somber night it seemed.

The kid didn’t seem to be there. Vela couldn’t see him. Vela didn’t want to see him. He moved towards the area near the entrance. That area. That’s where those quiet newbies waited or shyly tried to peep at the stage. That’s where he had met this kid. He wasn't here. Maybe he left.

Vela stared at the window. It was black and distorted out there. It was raining and the streetlights shined. A faint orange glow faded in as Vela was to step closer to look. He heard horns blaring. And chatter as if he was standing amongst the street. His brain sent the signal to run. But a hand held his shoulder.

He turned, “Will?”

A little more than a boy held his interest. He was short and seemed even shorter beneath Vela’s accessory. The boy held such a smile. Suspenders, bow tie, button up shirt. Vela’s mind short-circuited.

“Jamie, I found you.”

“Will, you,” Vela stammered while Will guided him to the cushioned couches beneath the windows, “you ki-“

Will put a finger over his moth, “uh uh, shh. Relax Jamie,” He leaned over him putting their faces very close together, “It’s all ok.”

Will touched mouths with Vela. Vela let his eyes close but the lights that reached through his eyelids strobed. They weren’t, right? He slid away with his hands to his head, “You’re not Will, You’re not, You’re not Will.”

He opened his eyes to an orange mush. They were struggling now to keep form over Vela’s body. The glitching, oozing figure seemed to melt right there, entrapping Vela’s feet. Flight in his mind, he unclasped his boots and left them to Goop. Flailing to get their remnants off of him. He glanced out the window, and something sickly glanced back. It smiled. The sudden light of a car barreling toward the building backlit the deformed thing. He closed his eyes as the horn blared, and he felt his body move as a ragdoll.

He opened his eyes on the carpet floor.

“Will no!” he screamed seeing the visage of six years passed. He tried to stand up with the blood of his forehead trickling into his eyes, “Will, what did you do?” his broken slit voice muttered out.

Hands covered his eyes, “That’s not me Jamie,” Will’s voiced echoed in Vela’s head, “That’s not me.”

Vela’s eyes uncovered.

He wore stilettos as long as wrist to middle fingertip. He wandered the district in the rainy night. Looking for pay. Drumming up business. The rain kept his bare skin warm in the below warm night. He was looking for blonde hair. He liked curly blondes. All the flowers and bushes along this area were on their last legs. Highlighted by dying browns. The district was just one turn away from normal society. One easy wrong turn from the Walmart, the craft stores, and the restaurants. If he stood in the right spot, he could gaze down the slope and watch the Walmart parking lot.

He sighed.The world was so empty today. At a little table he took off his shoes to walk barefoot. He missed sneakers.

A mirage of voices snapped his head over. A group, he thought, had to be over there. He heard a group of bros and where they were moving. They had parked here but were walking back into the light. Climbing down the hill to the superstores below the filth above.

“That poor thing looks cold,” One of the men said after flickering eyes over Vela.

“Ey, Darby give ‘er your coat.”

At the beckoning, the stray man in a dense but weathered suit coat approached Vela.

He, noticing the full-on approach, rose himself on flat feet. That face was familiar.

“They gonna run you pretty things ragged leaving ya out here like this here m-” Darby faltered on his words as he met face to face with Vela, “They outta dress ya better. Here,” He removed his jacket and offered it.

Vela’s eyes began to water a tad, “Thank you sir,” his voice did scarce more that breath out, “I-,” he swallowed, “When I see you return, I’ll give-”

“Nah don’t, it's yours,” Darby patted Vela’s bare shoulder, “it's more fitting for a fella like you anyway.”

Vela nodded, with a smile. This moment felt more like a memory with the haze of wet street lamps as he watched his old friend walk away. Hugging the jacket to himself. A piece returned. He watched the men walk away glitching and morphing inhabited by some creature that lived to torment. He put the suit coat on. The inside was full of blood. Moist and trickling. His eye popped in that moment, but it was his blind eye. Fitting, some fucking prostitute covered in his own blood time and time again. The only buyer. The only buyer finally came down the street that night. No blonde hair, just a face full of maggots. A hand full of scalp instead of flowers.

Vela turned around. Grasping his shoes, he reentered the cerulean tinted party room of the building. The floor and chairs were filthy, but these patrons didn’t seem to care. A house of filth. The whole world shuddered in his eyes when a crusted hand touched the back of his neck and trailed down to his back in the midst of the dance floor. He dared to keep on going, but the grimy thing took him by the blood crusted stomach and spun him to face it.

It’s fly eyes were impossible to trace. It could have been looking anywhere, but it sure made sure that Vela was looking at it at all times. A tilt of the head, a flicker of reality. The building turning red and back in spirts as this sick thing put Vela on his knees. He tilted his head down.

He was backstage. Sitting on a couch outside the hoard of dressing rooms. No longer dolled up. But his tank top still tight. His shorts still form fitting. He missed sweats. He missed jeans. He was still wearing heeled boots. A moderate size, but nonetheless they were still heels. The hall had a silent cacophony. Sex, distant music, slight rain... screaming, crying, and the electric buzz of the floreant lights above. He had to move. He found the barrier.

The backrooms laced with the smell of charred dust was so cold, but Vela didn’t mind. He had Darby’s old coat still in his hands although he didn’t put it on. He crouched by the window again. A rainy evening. It had to be much past evening. Out the window all the subtle sounds the outside world had to give were present. He could hear chatter again.

Maybe a movie or a show was getting out, or it was past cop patrol, but those rainy streets were filling up, Vela watching with smoke in his mouth. These were the conditions in which reality was weak. There he was! That pretty little blonde boy with a hoard around him. He always had so many people around him. That boy with the blood-soaked hair and stained hands. Permanent stains but he always was so happy. Happier.

A showboat with each arm around a girl. A leader. It’s like what he did made him better. The outside got fuzzier. Not for more rain but for more lachrymose in Vela’s own eye. Each blink after that sent him back and forth from room to room. Maybe Will would meet him back there. They never remembered each other at the same time. In some time, Vela laid in that empty glitched out room on the floor. He’d lay here forever if he got to be him again. He tried not to blink. Don’t blink. Don’t blink.

But he was back at the window and his blonde boy was laughing.

He ran through the barrier. He wanted to run as far away as he could with the bloody boy. He ran out the barrier through the building to the outside. Momentum cut short by sharp skin. The bug grabbed him. Dragging him amongst the thorny and hugging him to the ground beneath the sight of anyone else. Hearing the entire area around him. That boy was happier, and he had friends. He had made it out. Under this bug’s grasp, Vela jerked. He’d drag that boy down with him. He couldn’t vocalize. If he opened his mouth the taste of the bug’s hand would be enough to drop him dead. He couldn’t stand to hear Will smile. He promised.

Deflated in that parasite’s arm, his head throbbed and his eyes closed laying against the moist, disgusting mass of mold. Why did they only let him relive the painful memories. Why was the bug’s skin so sharp against his own as the bug undressed him.

It had to be passed evening. It had to almost be morning. His heels had spikes on them. His toes hurt. He leaned against the bar counter with another shot in hand. The club played the quiet sound of children screaming, but it didn’t really bother the patrons. The mint tinted patrons in the mint tinted grime. The burn of alcohol. A man walked into the club that caught Vela’s eye. As that man shut the door the screaming seemed to take over the music. Children. The man headed toward the back. Noticing Vela watching him, he sauntered towards the area the hookers took up.

Without so much as a hesitation the man touched upon Vela’s backside and pressed his own crotch to vela’s backside. Vela, used to being touched so but not by this man, turned to look at the man.

“Ey, they doll you boys up now,” He turned Vela around and held him at his hips, “I thought you was a woman.”

“They do, sir,” His own voice was hoarse.

“How much ya chargin’ to uh,” he bumped his head toward the back area.

“Well, don’t you want a woman?”

“I don’t care as long as you can do what I tell ya. Besides the boys are usually cheaper.” He held up a cash deposit.

Vela looked at the man with a fearful respect but took the starter and the man back to the rooms used. The room Vela used had a couch and a bed. He let the man in first. There was woman already mostly passed out on the couch. As if Vela was invisible, The Man’s focus switched to this unsuspecting woman. Vela was no longer wearing heels. All movement either moved to fast to all be seen or two slow to be fluid anymore. The Man took off his belt. Man hit the woman. Vela’s voice caught in his throat.

The sound of each hit took over the colors of the room until the placid linoleum and white brick opaquely resembled yellow walls and loved on beige carpet.

Man hit Her again.

He hit her and dropped his weapon. Man advanced on her. Drunk enough her nerves had barely registered the hell of this all, the woman barely even tilted her head up. A sick memory,

“Dad! Stop,” Fully in the motions of a younger body, Vela threw all his arms and mass over Man’s arm to stop his advances.

Everything flickered. Man began to melt in Vela’s hand. Man threw him against the wall The top of his head smacking the concrete of the fireplace. He tried to run. Man rapidly approached with fire in his eyes and fists ready to bruise.

“No!” Vela squirmed but Man pinned him down on his legs. A fist came down and a brick hit his head. A fist came down water smacked. A fist came down laundry hit his head.

Everything moved as every time they’d been in this scene before, but the pieces morphed. Man was potatoes. The floor was jelly. The belt was intestines. The belt Vela could touch with his toes and as fist shaped apparatuses bloodied and molded his face. He took the snake in his hand and lunged for the neck. Choking Man’s plastic neck with a thick spaghetti noodle.

He killed him.

Vela grabbed the crumpled paper that replaced the phone. He did this. He did this. Mortified. The screaming of children had ceased.

“Hello?”

The full body relief of hearing Will's voice, “Will?” Vela sobbed. The programming had stopped. He knew. He knew, “Will, I did something bad.,” he still said.

A static silence on the line.

“Will I need y’all’s help please can you-”

“Jamie?”

They were out of the cycle.

“Will,” Vela’s voice shook, blood and tears streaking across his face over and into his mouth, “Will where are you? I miss that we were”

“Jamie, I can’t feel my hands, Jamie my ribs hurt I think he pierced my lung.”

“No no no Will, don’t say that. you’re here right. Will. Will?”

Silence again on the other end.

“Will, please you promised.”

Through static, he spoke. It didn’t sound like him, “I... promise....”

“Will?” A static took over the speaker shrieking until Vela lost hope of hearing anything more and threw the phone down.

No longer moving in the patterns of the past, the walls of the house streaked away back into the sex room. He touched his face. Patting himself. No blood. Only lachrymose from his seeing eye. His shoes were flat platforms. He had the eyepatch over his blind eye. Some people thought it looked gross. He stepped as gracefully as he could out of the tunnels and to the only window in the functioning part of the area. It had stopped raining, but there was still too much night left. Vela leaned on the windowsill. His long coat highlighting a chill on the open areas of skin on his clothing.

The night sky, and maybe it was a fucked-up reflection of the window, looked like it was tearing. Bleeding red instead of black. The roses along the walls did glitch. No swaying. Jerking as if they’d been hit. And hit. And hit.

He turned away from the window to face the dreary white hall behind the stage. There was no one there. Radio silent through the hangers of clothes, and the couches, and the closed doors, and the snacks. Nothing moved. A three-D photograph. He took off his shoes at the window and left them there to walk the sticky floors barefoot. A hug to himself. He stepped out. The night had to almost be over. He set himself down on one of the spot-stained couches. They put covers on them so the stains weren’t on the couch itself. He wanted to sleep.

His head bobbed up from shut eye taking over. He had jeans on. There was a man beside him.

“It’s like,” this man's visage shuttered as if a screen glitched in him, “like Will gave some of the boys’ new life. Fresh young blood.”

“He just needed the place to thrive. He’s never been shy. He never wanted to be so quiet,” Vela responded, “I can’t believe getting mowed over by a van is the best thing that happened to him.”

Gary laughed, “Between you and me, and yknow I don’t get all that queer stuff, but I don’t know how anyone could label that kid anything but a boy.”

They had given him a good memory.

With tears down his face, a happy kind, Vela nodded, “He could have held the world in his hand. No,” Vela shook, “He still will.”

Gary laughed, “Let’s hope not I mean, Oh!”

Something came flying through the wall. A football Vela begged. But when he blinked the den’s hue turned red. Red as can be. Turning to his friend, Gary laid as a skinned corpse betrayed and terrified. Vela stood up and tripped on another's body.

Vela stammered trying for words. Dale had equipped his pocket knife but too late. Vela grabbed it. He wasn’t going to blink again. With his eye filled with blood and an eyelid in hand, Vela cried, “Will!” A checkpoint. His eye squinted and tried to blink out the blood. Vela delicately wiped it away with an old tissue in his ratty old jean pockets.

“You Left me!” Someone screamed. In the room, around the room, from the walls. Shrieking noises. Someone crawled out. Of the floor or a door no one knew.

Blonde. So much blood tinted him from top to bottom. Button up shirt burnt. Shorts. He was always so small. Limping on his rainboots.

“Jamie!” He was screaming. He hadn’t noticed Vela’s presence, “Jamie,” his voice was a broken high sob, “Please, that wasn’t me come back.” He was approaching Vela by accident. He wandered towards the exit door in a daze, “I didn’t... their flower,” He was to fall to the floor exhausted, bleeding out, and sobbing, but Vela caught the boy. Pretty blonde boy.

Vela caught him. His skin was sharp and slimy, but he still had his skin. Vela wrapped his arms all around the boy supporting him as he cried. The room was changing color undecisive on where it wanted to pretend to be. Vela’s eye was drying. He took some of the boy's tears to wet his eye as if it would heal his own flesh and blood. The room was desperately trying to blink.

Will seemed to realize that what was was not what was. This was a different track. He patted the body that held him. He looked up, “Jamie? Jamie! I Found you they- they-” he stammered but Vela just held him tight.

“Will, what did you do,” Vela whispered out.

“I don’t know. I don’t know!” Will shook him, “I don’t know, Jamie. I’ve seen you, though, I’ve seen you and-” The building thundered and the hues and tones of the rooms were distorting and trying to fade out. Something angry was coming. Will shook himself, “They tried to steal the gift of Life’s love. Jamie, we’ll crawl out of this I promise. I promise!” Will, in terror, looked around at where bangs and shakes were heard.

“That’s not what you said then.”

Will looked up at him and reached. He kissed him and they held. Vela wasn’t sure if this was a memory, a hallucination, a false memory, or some sort of premonition. He’d felt this kiss on every night like this. But still, he held the boy just as tight as he ever did. Mouth to mouth as the entity approached. Will began to melt. Vela’s eternally open eye could see his colors and composition change. The echo of a promise as the boy melted in his arms. The last thing will could do was cover Vela’s eye to make a blink.

He had boots as tall as his sternum to his temple. Clad in his leather, he hid in the backrooms of the club. He wanted to watch the sunrise. He was so close. A cigarette in his mouth he leaned out the window that was sieged by the littlest of bright pink roses that at this point of year had wilted and were held onto by stem and thorns vainly hoping to stay lovely. From this vantage point, he could see the folks who dared the district on this rainy, late autumn night, but they could not see him.

He blinked a few times. No eyepatch, not anymore. The dead eye was a conversation piece. Fetishists loved someone interesting. He saw a group of teenagers who dared to stare at the twenty-one plus club. They gawked at the girls who walked the sidewalks. They always tried to see if they could get one to break the rules. None of them dressed well. The only button ups were flannels. Some in muscle tank tops in the rain. They weren't dressed for the weather, but they didn’t care. They were having fun in clothes made for them.

Vela felt a hand on his backside and greedy eyes upon him. He turned around slowly. The Owner looked much older than he remembered. Meltier. Viler.

“Mr. Vela,” His voice was an inhale and a pop, “I don’t pay you to look out windows.”

“I want to watch the sunrise.” Vela said, incredibly tired.

Owner got closer, “Watch it where people can watch you. Go outside.”

“Sir,” he looked down at himself, “I can’t go out in these shoes.”

Owner laughed, “Make it work. Why that’s your uniform. Now go!

Vela gave a line of a smile and gracefully abandoned his window. He threw the cigarette on the cracked cement floor and stomped it out with his boot, “Aye aye.”

“That’s my boy,” The Owner slapped his ass.

Vela ignored his taunt and walked through the barrier. Through the salmon tinted main area. So many eyes on the tall Hispanic guy dressed like some metal working piece by a lustful man. The few windows the dance area had were black and slightly fuzzy via rain streaks. Even the sky cried on this place. He exited the doors and felt the chilling, sharp air. There was no one out. No one nearby. He paced up and down the hooker path waiting for any change of coloration in the sky. It was still black. No stars.

A figure. There was someone coming up the street. Shuffling. It was a group. It seemed. It seemed to fluctuate. Vela lit another cigarette. The smoke beating the scent of rot that was filling the air. The first figure seemed boneless and orange with an almost human face. Surrounded by creatures who glowed and change and fluxed in the shape of a human. They wore a mass of long, dead, yellow grass on their head as a makeshift blonde wig. Vela sighed and sat down on a picnic table. These horrid amalgamations coming ever closer.

Vela took off his shoes. Socks touching the cement below his feet. The terror would come. The terror would come, but he wanted to be able to run. That’s truly what he was good at. The sharp hand of a bug wrapped around the back of his neck. It held tight for control.

The orange goop stopped a few easel lengths away. The Bug jerked Vela up and walked him close as The Orange Goop presented the battered blonde boy. Looking as if he had just been hit by a car. The Bug pushed Vela to his knees. His skin torn wide on the asphalt. The Goop held Will in an all-consuming hug. The creatures made of static flickered the familiar faces of the bros they once had.

The Bug crouched down putting his face in Vela’s. It touched their faces together. It stood up and walked to Will. It pushed aside the cage of goop, and he surveyed the little blonde who was bruised from head-to-toe with arms and legs torn to hell. Nose crooked, eyes melting. Open button up showing a stomach of melting ground beef. Bug began to touch the boy. Its sharp hands against his side, his neck, his cheek, his breast.

Vela stood up on his toes fast only in this moment willing grab Bug around its torso, “Not him. Please, not him.”

Bug hit him atop the head knocking him down. Ripping him back up to his knees. It held him by top of his arm. Pressing its razor-sharp fingertips into his skin. With a blow in his eyes to make him blink, the fiends took him back to the room. A memory. He knew this was a memory. Young Will and the bros. A crowbar in hand Will swung it into Darby’s chest. It was Will. He did it. He did it. The other men to in shock to move. Will was fuzzing. Colors fading in and out. Some goop rose to give him more tools saw blades to Gary and Dale. Paul was going to fight. Will did it. Will did it.

A phone rang

He stared at Will who struggled under Bug's hand. Vela blinked and blinked. A few more moments in the room he’d find him. Will promised they’d crawl. He promised. Bug was about to do something. Vela rose again and attack Bug at the back of the knees trying to get it away from the blonde boy. It was determined. This creature of misery.

The sky was brown. It was becoming orange. They were almost there.

Vela beat Bug back to Will and joined him in the goop. Holding him at the waist. foreheads together, “Will, what did we do? What-”

“They tried to steal life’s love,” Will sobbed, “Jamie, don’t leave me,” he put his fingers in Vela’s hand, “I don’t know where we are. Am I dead?”

Vela blinked but all he could see was Bug coming back to screw them. Blink. Blink, “You promised we’d both be dead. Will, that’s what you promised! What did you do,” Vela begged him.

“It wasn’t me, Jamie. It wasn’t-” Will’s last scream was cut off by Vela being thrown back to the ground. Scraping the rest of him up.

The world was falling apart. The cement was grass. The sky was redder and redder. Bug was touching the blonde boy again. Vela tried to rise again but a piece The Orange Goop held him. Bug put his rotten fly face to the blonde boy’s bruised face. He squirmed. It began to kiss him. Little squirms. Little nos. That pierced Vela’s ears in the static that replaced night silence. It was touching the boy. It was moving down. Vela cried. Bug, with hands right about his short lines, looked back at Vela with the vilest, most taunting, look. It would ruin a boy to bully a playmate.

All Vela could do, coated in goop was reach and try and crawl himself. Will reached out throwing any momentum he had to try and get out of the sap tomb that was this creature. He let out a little cry as the Bug’s ragged old hands touch what was most sensitive.

The Orange Goop, as it so often did, had gotten bored. Vela was able to burst. Hearing the new type of cry from the blonde boy he so felt obligated to defend. He took Bug by the hips ripping him away. He fumbled for its thousand-year-old belt and removed it. He slipped it around its neck and pulled it down to the ground with his own body weight. With them both on the ground, he began to choke it. It didn’t seem to mind it. It seemed to smile.

“Run!” Vela screamed at Will.

“Jamie? I can’t leave-”

“I left! It's your turn,” Vela told him with a strain to his voice.

“I’ll find you.”

“We didn’t win. The sun is here. Go! Forget! I’ll find you.”

Will, bloody and broken, listened and on bare feet took off running down the hill. Disappearing into the darkness. The sky was turning red. Vela stopped choking the bug. The static creatures left. The followed Will.

Bug crawled to a sitting position. It turned to him and Vela could hear its skin cracking as it smiled enough to laugh. The sky was turning orange. Bug was on top of him. It kissed him farewell. It took his head and smashed it against the asphalt. One. Two. Three. Who needed bones anyway.

Vela exited the changing rooms of the now sunlit mess of a formerly clean club. He wore sandals with heels the size of his middle finger. He waved goodbye to the other girls and guys who had more of a rush to go. He lingered a bit longer to prey at what was left of hooker catering. He was more casual now with studded booty shorts and a long coat covering his heart patterned tank top.

“Ey, good work today boy,” The Owner came to him holding an envelope, “I knew ya’d be a hot commodity when I found ya. Here.”

“Thank you, sir,” Vela took the envelope.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow night, ey,” The Owner put his finger to Vela’s chin circling it down his chest, “I got a new outfit set for ya to try.” He put his hands to Vela’s nipples fiddling, “May had somethin’ to do with a harness. We’re gonna get you in rooms I don’t wanna ruin you walking around.”

“Of course, sir,” Vela said shyly.

“I can tell you did some work, look at those knees,” Owner whistled looking down at the rug burn that Vela had acquired, “Lucky whoever got that,” Owner winked at him, “Anyway go rest up. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Vela nodded. His sweetness melting to abhorrence as he got out of sight. The envelope was cash. He just had to remember. No one else would take a kid like him. The windows and the skylight of a cleared sky tinted the club a dusty yellow for the bright sun.

Vela walked out the doors to the sunlit district where normal folks traversed to shop and eat at this area of luxury. It was a beautiful day, he thought, walking away from the den of sin. He’d go sleep in the park, he thought. After he tucked away what he had earned in the storage unit. Whatever he had put into his body to survive the night were gone. He had survived. He had survived many things. But this, he knew, wasn’t living at all.

#writing #horror writing #writeblr #original story #original writing #SCBE OiD #SCBE MONITOR

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