Miss Aida
I did not mean to venture here. Not with exams so near, not with my new, well-meaning resolutions of staying far, far away from the Internet until I have either finished studying or until my exams actually end. I meant to exercise restraint.

Then again, I have never been good at resisting temptation.

Nothing much has happened, and yet so much. A whirlwind of crazy stunts, late nights and the conclusion that Azreen does indeed possess an evil mind and will eventually gang up with Pudtz and the Nikster in their quest for world domination. I look forward to seeing chaos unleashed.

Yes, I am stressed. My room is in a shocking state. I can no longer find things I used to effortlessly pick out from their designated spot. I discover rumpled clothing and socks as I pull back the bedsheets before bed. Chocolate wrappers and empty soft drink cans are strewn in random spots in my room. I find myself indulging in a diet of chocolate for breakfast and lunch. My eyeliner has smudged around my eyes, from my lack of effort to apply makeup remover from the last time I actually went out. I've lost track of days and dates. It takes me minutes longer to formulate intelligent sentences. I am steps away from turning into an all-time slob.

Some random has been spamming my sister's TagBoard, before she actually decided to start revamping her site and changed to another tagboard. Naturally, her friends and I have responded to the harsh comments with our own questions.

Personal comments, that attacked her physical appearance and actions, under the mocking guise of so-called well-meaning advice. Harsh words from someone who doesn't even know her for the person she is. There have been comments under different names, although the poor command of language and similar vein of all comments, including the continuous insipid, predictable use of coarse language all seem to indicate the comments being put forward by the same individual.

o my challenge to actually leave a contact number, whoever it was actually did put one up eventually. To think that they would actually bother picking up to my calls. And here I was, making a long distance call all the way from Melbourne, absolutely dying to have a little chat to my sister's anonymous spammer. Sigh.

Here's a warning, darling. No one messes with my sister without messing with me.

I don't have to sink down to your level to call you the same names you called my sister. I'm a lot more creative than that, and somehow, I suspect we're so far away from the same intellectual plane that I doubt you'd understand the finer nuances of what I'd love to say to you. Trust me, I can think of a hundred and one things I'd like to call you, and all of them a lot more creative than 'bitch'.

Bitch is overused, dude.

Then again, I'm not sinking down to your level. My sister's got her life ahead of her, and she's got so much more to offer the world than you'll ever be able to despite your best efforts, and that by itself is reason for me to roll my eyes at your sad efforts to undermine her abilities.

I don't have to understand why you said the things you said, especially when you claim to be giving advice. Advice in the form of sad, pathetic personal comments. Advice, you say? Advice from someone who's obviously got too much time on their hands to do anything constructive, but instead chooses to cyberstalk someone on the Internet in order to feel good about themselves?

I feel no anger towards you, apart from a reflection of my sister's annoyance. You obviously lack the courage and integrity to reveal your actual identity or leave any way of reaching. I just wonder what you are hoping to get out of all of this, because ultimately, you walk away. The ultimate loser.

Here's a thought.

You. Me. One on one. Just the two of us, baby.

Don't underestimate my tact for lack of emotion. There's a streak of violence underneath the surface that I would absolutely love to unleash on you. The thought of my knuckles connecting on your bones actually makes me smile. The thought of you bruised, bloody and broken. Funny, and I never thought myself as the violent type. But somehow I'll make an exception for your case.

I would love to break you. And I'll do it with a smile on my face.
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