• The zipper was stuck. The question is why and how. How does an interdimensional zipper get stuck on the fabrics of reality and time?! She panics, and the magic around her surges with spasms of uncontrolled energy.

  • She gave me daisies, hastily wrapped and barely a bouquet. She was a little girl, of course. Innocent, clean, pure. Completely oblivious to the world. She gave me daisies.

    She gave me the world.

  • She does not believe this (this reality or the shadowy echoes of it). She does not see the smile in his eyes or the sweet sound of his laughter. She can not. She cries.

  • To everyone else, he was the perfect gentleman – so handsome, so charismatic and polite. But of course, she thought, it was too good to be true.

    He was a gentleman to the public, but a sadistic madman at home.

    She sees him turn to give her a slight smile, and the ladies around giggle while some others glare, (the former sighing in…[Read more]

  • “Go, my dear, and don’t forget to visit!” she called out to her beloved son, not believing how fast the years had gone by. To think that seeing him everyday would no longer happen and that she’d only be limited to those holidays and special rare occasions that don’t come fast enough once a year were hard to accept, and she let out a wistful smile…[Read more]

  • Your smile falters, and you freeze for half a second, thinking that people would notice. But then you realise, why would they?

    You close your eyes, and your tears well up. You breathe deep, and your mask is back on.

    It has never fallen.

  • And so, I mend my wounds. I sew the stitches in my heart. *criss-cross, criss-cross*

    The scars will remind me of what I once was and will never be.

  • The image of the locket haunted him, and it was all that he could think of. He had to find it. He had to. It was the only thing his mother had left him. It was the only thing that he could tie to his past.

    He needs it to find himself. He needs it to live.

  • And the shadow of his silhouette towers over me, and I feel myself trembling in fear. There is no escape. There is no way out. And I brace myself for what is to come.

  • She doesn’t know why, but everywhere she goes, everywhere she sees, she’s reminded that in this great big world, she isn’t important. Just a fleck of dust, just a goldfish in an ocean.

  • There’s something that she can see in the undercurrents of the conversation. She hears a tone of disdain and dislike. She thinks she’s paranoid and frowns. Surely, they like her. She hasn’t done anything wrong after all.

  • She winces at the strike he’s sent her, and goes tumbling down unto the floor. It hurts. She cries. He smiles.

  • He just couldn’t take it anymore. He was on the verge of breaking down – of falling apart, because he’s lost everything that has ever counted.

    He blames himself for it.

    And it’s killing him inside.

  • Capture the moment. Live through it again. And watch its beauty in still form. Don’t put the picture in the pocket, but in your mind. Forever.

  • Sometimes, he wonders about what life could be. Sometimes, he wonders about his past. Sometimes, he wonders what he could be. But it’s just that wondering. Never doing. Never trying.

    And so he cries. Because his life is wasted on wondering and never trying.

  • He doesn’t pray out of religion or sentiment. He prays because he’s run out of options. Because there’s nothing else for him, or for her. And so, he prays. Because he doesn’t deserve this. And neither does she. They deserve the world.