Monthly Archives: May 2012

Sirius Black


Sirius always knew.

Ever since the day he ran away from home, that day when his mother made the decision to scratch his image off the walls that was wound with the family tree and descendants of the noble Black family, he had always knew.

There was a certain magic upon that room, a certain magic that stirred a sense of foreboding fear to the members of the Black household. This certain magic was their family heirloom, passed down from parent to child. It had protected their house for centuries and preserved their much deserved honour and magical purity.

That piece of magic protected the name of the noble family of the Blacks, and washed away any stains or impurities that threatened to tarnish their reputation.

Everyone in the Black family regarded this magic as their saving grace and held much respect for it– except for young Sirius Black.

And only Sirius Black.

When Sirius Black was born, the family knew something was wrong with their youngest child. He was different from his siblings, mischievious and always looking for trouble. His siblings, well, were diginified, mature and serious for their age.

The family’s worst fears were confirmed as soon as the Sorting Hat sat snugly on Sirius’ dark messy hair. The single word that boomed through the halls “GRYFFINDOR!” was not taken in very well by Sirius’ siblings.

The noble Blacks have always produced Slytherins– never Gryffindors. Gryffindor was their mortal enemy.

It was proven: Sirius Black was the outcast of the family.

The day he left his home to join James Potter and his gang, his mother held back nothing. She had never treated Sirius like a son, and she would never will. She would have to call on the magic.

Call on the power.
Erase him.
Protect the pure Black lineage.

And so with a burning vengeance than a fury, Sirius’ face was ripped from the walls.

Beware, Sirius Black.
The magic had been invoked upon you.
You can never run nor hide.
It is out to get you.
Never shall you tarnish the name of Black ever again.

Sirius remembered the cold tingle up his spine when he slept on the ground of James’ house. That particular tingle which said that his destiny has been written and that death is coming.

But it never came.

James left.
Lily left.

Almost the whole Order was wiped.
He was devastated, at the brink of breaking down.

Was this it? The death he’d been looking for?


Harry, son of James and Lily Potter, came into his life.
He’s got Lily’s eyes.
He is so much like his father.

He had been convinced that the magic activated upon him had died out over the years after his family slowly died out, leaving only Bellatrix and Sirius as the lone survivors.

He was swelling with pride that day, standing beside his godson and fighting off the Death Eaters. A flick of the wand, Malfoy was disarmed and then thrown back. They had sent spells, together like a perfect duo in perfect harmony, towards the Death Eater.

And then, a blast at his side woke Sirius from his trance. He stopped laughing and looked at his godson. Harry Potter stared back at him with those disbelieving eyes. He could actually see him pleading: “Please, don’t go.”


Lily’s eyes were staring back at him.
The image of James before him.

A hand.

“Come, Padfoot.”

James is holding out his hand.
Lily’s smile as radiant as always.

Numbing feeling spread though his body like ice.

A finger.

A second.

Skin meets skin.

Hand grasps on tightly.

And Sirius Black leaves this world.




Author’s Note:Just read this. AN will be at the end.

Have you ever felt a black hole of despair within you? Always there, always existing, always sucking away your happiness and leaving out your nightmares.

Have you ever felt so disappointed in yourself, so lost, so emotional everytime you try to do something right for once, and fail in the end? Even though all the effort and time you put in, you still fall with no one to catch you?

Today was a great example. A whole cohort of students nail-bitingly anxious about their examination results gathered in the Indoor Sports Hall, awaiting the return of their scripts.

I was one of them. Just a typical student, hoping that she would at least pass everything and at least avoid some major scoldings from her parents.

I admit: I’m lazy, selfish, gullible, irresponsible and no self-discipline. But that does not mean I do not put in effort to study. I was motivated, with the United Kingdom Literature trip right after examinations, to do well in my studies. I stayed up late, went through papers, practiced equations and even stayed back to group study.

I promised my mother I would get a B4 for Chinese, as I believed I could do it. I was able to manage Chinese ‘O’ Levels papers well and I was confident that I would score for the paper.

But yet, when my paper was returned, the marks at the top right hand corner of the paper slammed into my gut and confidence.


I was stunned; dumbstruck; at a complete loss. I had painstakingly written English translations for words that I was not sure of. I even crossed out, reread comprehensions, attempted to guess smartly and read it aloud softly. Still, nothing could change the fact that I had badly failed my Chinese paper with a score of 43.8 upon a hundred.

I had never gotten below 30 in my entire student life. Sure, I failed Chinese before, but it was not this bad: I had gotten a 31/70.

Again, I was confident I would do well for Social Studies. I had enjoyed doing the paper, to be frank, but when the marks came back, it was not what I expected. A pass, I wanted to obtain. Yet I got a 23/50. Another big blow to my confidence. It was a lucky thing I had my CA1 to pull me up to a pass. Yet…

Paper by paper, I was filled with immense hurt as I realised I had done ridiculously below my expectations.

Wanted an A1 for English. Actual grade: B4.
Wanted a B4 for Biology. Guess what? D7.
Wanted A2 for E Math. C5.
Wished for a B4 for Chinese. E8, the lowest I had ever gotten. I don’t even dare to show it or tell my mother. I know I should, but I am a coward after all. I am always scared.

I could hardly believe myself. Me. Me.

I hate it- I hate not living up to my expectations. I hated it. I should have known myself better; my expectations should have been achieved! All those mugging, all those hard work, all those memory inputs and late nights have been swept aside and casted aside by the low marks.

I can’t turn back time, as what Bernice said. I can’t undo what has been done.

And I hated the fact I was so powerless. So puny and feeble and weak. Maybe Li Enn’s right. Maybe I can’t be Thor’s wife after all. I don’t deserve it. Li Enn’s so much braver than me. So much stronger. So much more daring.

Nadine did well for this mid years. Though she was upset about getting an E8 for her Biology, she obtained B’s for all her other subjects. Good job, pal. You really worked hard.

Bernice did the best out of Moodoo, according to her. Althought I don’t really know her grades, but when Nadine says that, she is never joking. Period. Great job, Bern.

I’d smile. I’d laugh. But not now. Maybe when I am feeling better?

I doubt it.

Author’s Note: Sorry this is short. Sorry I can’t write properly. Right now, I can’t give a damn. I can’t control my disappointment, my anger, my guilt. I have disappointed my parents. I really did do my best, but still, maybe I could have done more. I’m going to step up my work pace. I have to do better for EOYs…if I don’t, I can truly say that I will be screwed for  O Levels.

This is going to decide my future. I can’t afford to screw it up now. I just can’t.

I really want to earn money, ease the burden on my father. I really want to show that I can be independent, but I’m scared. I hate being alone. I would rather die than be one lonely soul.

I need to cry now. Bye.