I’ve been called a lot of things.
Insane, crazy, raving, a lunatic.
But not of them fit quite as nicely as “deranged”
Maybe because it meant that I used to be normal.
That I wasn’t always like this.
That something happened to make me this way.
That YOU happened to make me this way.
She was dead nervous as she finished pouring the wine into the glasses and fixing the settings. Now, all she had to do was to wait for him to show up.
She already had a plan in mind. She’d let them have dinner, drink a little, laugh a little, and after settling down, she’d talk to him about it. In a calm, mature way.
Yes, that was the way to…[Read more]
I never thought of him as a hero.
He was too quiet, too forgiving, too SOFT.
He never seemed like the perfect prince or the dazzling knight who would sweep princesses off their feet.
But when he saw me in my broken state and did nothing but come up to sit with me, I realized that maybe, he was a different kind of hero.
The kind of…[Read more]
The potatoes were overcooked, the meat not nearly seasoned enough, and the candles just wouldn’t stay lit. To top it off, you spilled the (cheap) wine on your shirt when you were trying to open it (which resulted in the cork falling into the bottle).
But as she looked at you in amusement while forcing herself to eat the dinner you tried your…[Read more]
This isn’t what I thought it was.
I expected it to be boiling – I expected flames to be licking at my skin, charring it and blistering me.
I did not expect this icy wasteland.
I didn’t expect this lonely room.
And I most certainly did not expect hell to be so… empty.
There are quite a few things that I don’t do as often as I’d like, I think.
Like curling up on my bed and reading a book that I actually want to read.
Eating out with my friends and making so much noise the staff glare at us.
Talking to someone until the sun rises.
Telling my parents I love them.
Hugging my siblings.
Convince myself I’m good…[Read more]
Gossip followed her everywhere she went.
She learned to just shrug it off – maybe even laugh at some of the wilder versions of the story.
She was totally unaffected and remained cool and passive.
On the outside.
On the inside, she knew every single rumor had a shred of truth in them.
She just didn’t know which ones were true, anymore.
It’s about to begin.
The referee is talking to both team captains, going over the rules once again.
You notice that they both have their arms crossed. Their faces are passive and they seem a bit tense.
The referee finally stops talking and he makes the captains shake hands. They size each other up while doing it.
It’s funny how much between us was actually unwritten and unsaid.
What’s even funnier is that people always assumed that it wasn’t (unwritten and unsaid, that is).
But the funniest thing is that I actually believed there was something worth writing and talking about.
She opened door after door until finally, she came upon a hallway. This one didn’t have just one door like the others – no, this one had two. And they were both open.
In one door she saw her past. She saw her parents as she saw them in her childhood – perpetually fighting, trying to keep their voices down when she was there.
And in another…[Read more]
They were always the ones to make people laugh; never hesitating to belittle themselves in the sake of comedy. They could take any kind of hit- hell, the name of their job was a blow in itself.
So it didn’t really surprise her when she found him crying into his arms once the show was over. You couldn’t expect them to not feel anything after a…[Read more]
She rocked the crib slowly, the last few notes of the lullaby drawing to a close.
The baby inside gave a little yawn and drifted to sleep, a pacifier in his mouth, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed.
She kissed his forehead and sighed, turning towards the door. The man waiting there stood with his arms crossed, his posture giving away…[Read more]
She rocked in front of hundreds each night; sometimes in the little rundown cafe on the street corner, and sometimes in big arenas.
She always mulled over her set list; it was a rocker thing, apparently.
Her set list always told a story; whether it was the story of her high school life, her first heartbreak, the last boyfriend she had, or…[Read more]
“So are you two, like, dating or something?” They both grew quiet and looked down, their lips pursed and their hands fidgeting.
They always knew it was a taboo thing between them. No talking about what they were – or what they weren’t. They were happy staying like this.
So it surprised her when he reached under the table and grabbed her…[Read more]
I could hear him before I could see him. His footsteps making loud noises on the staircase. It sounded like he kept on tripping.
Then, I could smell him. And that’s what made me really scared. It smelled like that stinky yellow drink he likes – what was its name? Beer?
And finally, he turned the knob so I could see him. I whimpered and…[Read more]
He liked telling stories. Stories about him and his friends, their adventures, stories about the past of the tribe. Stories that would become legends.
But his favorite kind of stories were stories of the future – stories where you were free to write it as you please.
Everyone thought she was like water; cool and calm under any situation, flexible, and adapting. Sometimes, she too, thought she was like water.
But few people saw the fire burning in her eyes, the flames guiding her actions, the passion with which she felt things, the ardent flame that would not dare to die out.
They weren’t friends; not really. It just so happened that they had a common enemy. And after all, the enemy of your enemy is your friend.
So it totally wasn’t friendship when they shared food or helped each other set up their tents. Even when they told pointless little stories beside a campfire to try and wile away the time. Nope, they…[Read more]