wisdom, habits, the combination of any of the aforementioned suggestionsand so on and so forth.
What a load of bull. Not only it’s ludicrous, but how was I supposed to take the words of aguy with the name
seriously?But Jake took his words at face value. Just because he had a
in his name. God.Didn’t Jake know that there’s only a fine line between genius and insanity? To defend his beloved Doctor, Jake sacrificed his beauty sleep and spent hours surfingonline this morning. I didn’t go back to sleep as well. Although I was already mentallyprepared for the worst, the thought of possessing shaman’s magic still rattled me.As Jake google-d for empirical evidences, I laid on the bed and let my imaginations runwild. I thought of the dream first. Sean. Mom. I wondered where they went afterlife.Certainly Sean went to Heaven. He was too pure for Hell.Hell. Eddie, bleeding profusely.
with its shaman. The shamans war. Anapey. The secret of magic ritual. The object.Okay, I could accept the existence of shamans and their magic. And
Perhaps the pen was indeed one of the magical objects. And there’s this possibility of mepossessing shaman’s magic because of it. But parts of a dead person being reborn
? That’s just creepy.Say, this
was not insane after all – who was the pen’s previous owner? It couldbe anyone. The agent; this house’s ex-owner; its ex, ex-owner; one of their guests.. Ohmy, there were just too many suspects.I voiced out my thought to Jake and suggested the possible suspects, but he ignored me.He was totally engrossed in whatever’s on his screen.I got off the bed and wandered around his room. There was nothing interesting for me toread. All his books were too
for me. I peered over his collection of DVDs,which were genre-classified and arranged alphabetically in his TV cabinet. Hmm. I hadwatched most of them. Time for him to update his collection. Too lazy to explore outside of the room, I took the fountain pen from Jake’s
case and sat on the bed. It was made from wood – I didn’t know what, but it lookedexpensive – and gold coloured steel clip. Very simple, but posh.Around half past eight, Jake gave up. He yawned and the moment his head touched thepillow, he’s dead to the world. Until now.I spun the pen around my fingers. Man, it’s so hard to do a Sonic. I had practised formonths, but still not much improvement. Felt rather frustrated, I pushed the pen with toomuch force and it flew. Straight to Jake’s temple. It hit him real hard.He jerked awake and rubbed his temple. “What was
?” he said with a grimace.“Oops. Sorry, dude. Accident happens,” I said. I tried to look as apologetic as I could, buthis expression was too funny. I had to stifle a laugh.I retrieved the pen from underneath the pillow and started to spun it around again. Jakestopped rubbing his temple and stared at me in horror.“Why, what’s wrong?” I asked.