LA.
Love Away.
My heart beats
Still.
And upon this dream
I fall
Open my eyes
And see
This darkness
There's no light
But that's alright
Indeed my heart
Is Still
But there's blood
If you hurt me
The heart is
Unstoppable
Yet
Destroyable
Soon, it shall,
Disappear
My dreams,
My Hopes,
Maybe me,
As well.
My beating heart
Is still
Irreplacable
November 28, 2009
October 12, 2009
I Hate This Part
Have you ever had a nightmare that made you wake up paranoid, delusional? Left you crying and scared? Alert but incredibly tired?
I have.
Unlike my other perfectly normal dreams which I can not remember when I wake up; this nightmare I could remember with vivid acuity.
For me, for one whole day, it was like having schizophrenia, and being unable to do anything.
Before I went to sleep, I didn't listen to the calming music I always did. I wasn't particularly melancholy that day. It was just a nightmare that happened. Maybe because I don't get enough REM (rapid-eye movement) sleep; I do have all the symptoms after all...
I went to sleep around 11pm.
This nightmare seemed to drag on forever. I was being stalked by a psychotic killer. I know, how cliche.
But to me, it was the most life-like nightmare I have ever had. I was in my school's toilet, and the person entered it as well. My toilet cubicle was the only one with someone inside. The door was locked, my back facing the door. He would walk around, and then out of nowhere, grip my shoulder. He looked from above - the space between the door and the ceiling, meaning he was taller than the door. His face was Asian - possible Chinese, with some baby fat on his cheeks; he looked just like a normal person.
"Oh. You're not her." He would say, with a voice that seemed incredibly normal.
For some reason unknown, I talked back. I wasn't scared. I had no idea what was about to happen. "Yeah. I'm not. Why're you in the girls toilet?"
He would shrug and smile. "I'm just looking for her." And then he would eye me - "But you look just like her."
And that's when the horror began.
My mind then flashed quickly to another scene. The toilets were filled with blood. There was blood everywhere, no matter where you looked. The walls were blood red, the disposal bins filled with sanitary pads that were all opened and every inch was bloody. The toilets had piles of toilet paper stuck inside it, preventing it to be flushed. There was blood there too. There were faeces littering the toilet, all with speckles of blood. There was rotting cabbage with blood, as if someone had poured a cup of blood over it. The blood seemed to flow constantly. Fresh blood flowed over dried blood.
Then it flashed to another scene. We were on Yale Campus. I have never been to Yale, but I have always wanted to be a student there. I learnt that he was a Yale student, he majored in engineering. Then on the same day, he would come towards me and show me a knife. A long knife, somewhat reminiscent of a butcher's knife. "I will kill you with this." He would say. And then he looked at me, and I could remember myself screaming and running.
In the next scene, he would knock at my door. Constantly. He would say things like, "I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to apologize." I would stay inside my room.
The next scene, I was running along the Yale Campus lawn. There I saw him. He didn't react. He was talking to two professors. A male and a female. The male had a brown beard, and he was bald. The female was blonde. Then he would point at me. And then I would be running for my life.
I didn't scream. I just ran. I ran across what seemed like three football fields. There were people everywhere, they were all talking to each other and all so happy. They were oblivious to the torment that I was in. Every now and then I would glance back. I would catch a small sight of him, he would disappear, and I would turn back around and ran. I have never been good at running, but when I ran then, it seemed like I would defeat Olympic records. In front of me, there was a bunch of teenage boys that were playing football. I had to swerve around them, as they kicked the ball to and fro. And then I would make it... I arrived at a bus depot that didn't even seem adjacent to the field.
I ran onto the bus, and I looked around. I looked around for people I knew. The bus was incredibly long, and it was similar to a coach. I saw Linda* and Indigo*; they sat together. I quickly moved to sit behind them. I looked outside and saw that he was coming towards my bus. There were still people filing on, and I realized that he could see through the window and see me. The only way I could escape him was to sit with someone else. I quickly told Linda* and Indigo* about what was happening to me. They nodded sympathetically and allowed me to wedge myself in between them, so that I couldn't directly be seen from the aisle or the window.
He would walk past my seat, and I would breathe a sigh of relief. But then, he seemed to notice, and he sat behind us. He would, just like the beginning, grip my shoulder and said, "I've found you."
My nightmare ended then. But not really. When I awoke, the sky was still dark. I estimated it to be around 2 or 3am. My heart was racing in fear. I was sweaty. I had been crying. I tried to go back to sleep, but the nightmare constantly replayed itself inside my head.
Throughout the day I heard noises that weren't there. Noises from the nightmare. Whenever I closed my eyes for longer than a second, I would be revisited with scenes from the nightmare. In the mirror, it seemed as if he was behind me and poised to kill me. It was all like a horror movie. But real, yet not quite.
In the shower, it seemed as if his hands were closed around my neck. I hated closing my eyes, because I knew that scenes of the nightmare would revisit me.
Sometimes it felt like there was hardly enough air. I would feel like I was drowning. I would see things - blood from the blood toilet scene that wasn't even there. It was so surreal.
Even a few days after the nightmare, I would have some flashbacks.
For me, the nightmare was like a premonition: To stay away from Yale and to not linger too long in toilets.
I hope that I will never have a nightmare like that again.
I know I will be wrong.
I have.
Unlike my other perfectly normal dreams which I can not remember when I wake up; this nightmare I could remember with vivid acuity.
For me, for one whole day, it was like having schizophrenia, and being unable to do anything.
Before I went to sleep, I didn't listen to the calming music I always did. I wasn't particularly melancholy that day. It was just a nightmare that happened. Maybe because I don't get enough REM (rapid-eye movement) sleep; I do have all the symptoms after all...
I went to sleep around 11pm.
This nightmare seemed to drag on forever. I was being stalked by a psychotic killer. I know, how cliche.
But to me, it was the most life-like nightmare I have ever had. I was in my school's toilet, and the person entered it as well. My toilet cubicle was the only one with someone inside. The door was locked, my back facing the door. He would walk around, and then out of nowhere, grip my shoulder. He looked from above - the space between the door and the ceiling, meaning he was taller than the door. His face was Asian - possible Chinese, with some baby fat on his cheeks; he looked just like a normal person.
"Oh. You're not her." He would say, with a voice that seemed incredibly normal.
For some reason unknown, I talked back. I wasn't scared. I had no idea what was about to happen. "Yeah. I'm not. Why're you in the girls toilet?"
He would shrug and smile. "I'm just looking for her." And then he would eye me - "But you look just like her."
And that's when the horror began.
My mind then flashed quickly to another scene. The toilets were filled with blood. There was blood everywhere, no matter where you looked. The walls were blood red, the disposal bins filled with sanitary pads that were all opened and every inch was bloody. The toilets had piles of toilet paper stuck inside it, preventing it to be flushed. There was blood there too. There were faeces littering the toilet, all with speckles of blood. There was rotting cabbage with blood, as if someone had poured a cup of blood over it. The blood seemed to flow constantly. Fresh blood flowed over dried blood.
Then it flashed to another scene. We were on Yale Campus. I have never been to Yale, but I have always wanted to be a student there. I learnt that he was a Yale student, he majored in engineering. Then on the same day, he would come towards me and show me a knife. A long knife, somewhat reminiscent of a butcher's knife. "I will kill you with this." He would say. And then he looked at me, and I could remember myself screaming and running.
In the next scene, he would knock at my door. Constantly. He would say things like, "I promise I won't hurt you. I just want to apologize." I would stay inside my room.
The next scene, I was running along the Yale Campus lawn. There I saw him. He didn't react. He was talking to two professors. A male and a female. The male had a brown beard, and he was bald. The female was blonde. Then he would point at me. And then I would be running for my life.
I didn't scream. I just ran. I ran across what seemed like three football fields. There were people everywhere, they were all talking to each other and all so happy. They were oblivious to the torment that I was in. Every now and then I would glance back. I would catch a small sight of him, he would disappear, and I would turn back around and ran. I have never been good at running, but when I ran then, it seemed like I would defeat Olympic records. In front of me, there was a bunch of teenage boys that were playing football. I had to swerve around them, as they kicked the ball to and fro. And then I would make it... I arrived at a bus depot that didn't even seem adjacent to the field.
I ran onto the bus, and I looked around. I looked around for people I knew. The bus was incredibly long, and it was similar to a coach. I saw Linda* and Indigo*; they sat together. I quickly moved to sit behind them. I looked outside and saw that he was coming towards my bus. There were still people filing on, and I realized that he could see through the window and see me. The only way I could escape him was to sit with someone else. I quickly told Linda* and Indigo* about what was happening to me. They nodded sympathetically and allowed me to wedge myself in between them, so that I couldn't directly be seen from the aisle or the window.
He would walk past my seat, and I would breathe a sigh of relief. But then, he seemed to notice, and he sat behind us. He would, just like the beginning, grip my shoulder and said, "I've found you."
My nightmare ended then. But not really. When I awoke, the sky was still dark. I estimated it to be around 2 or 3am. My heart was racing in fear. I was sweaty. I had been crying. I tried to go back to sleep, but the nightmare constantly replayed itself inside my head.
Throughout the day I heard noises that weren't there. Noises from the nightmare. Whenever I closed my eyes for longer than a second, I would be revisited with scenes from the nightmare. In the mirror, it seemed as if he was behind me and poised to kill me. It was all like a horror movie. But real, yet not quite.
In the shower, it seemed as if his hands were closed around my neck. I hated closing my eyes, because I knew that scenes of the nightmare would revisit me.
Sometimes it felt like there was hardly enough air. I would feel like I was drowning. I would see things - blood from the blood toilet scene that wasn't even there. It was so surreal.
Even a few days after the nightmare, I would have some flashbacks.
For me, the nightmare was like a premonition: To stay away from Yale and to not linger too long in toilets.
I hope that I will never have a nightmare like that again.
I know I will be wrong.
October 8, 2009
Build God, Then We'll Talk 02
Jamie entered her classroom. It was just like a movie scene, everyone's eyes would be on you as you entered. The teacher - green eyes, black hair, lanky build, male - ignored her as she found her desk.
Her desk was situated next to the window. In front of her was Mel - notorious for sleeping with anyone that wanted some, behind her was Jordan - smart, but annoying, and on her right was Rei - the one who started it all.
Flinging her bag down, she sat down and waited for the teacher to take the roll. The desk, she noticed, was altered. Dark, black words looked at her as she read them. Not all of them. Just the few that caught her attention. It looked as if someone had decided to form a picture from the words...
As her teacher started to talk in a droning voice, Jamie's mind wandered. Her eyes glanced over the fields - there were hardly any grass, it was mainly dirt. Dirt. Lots of it.
Last time something had happened, the victim had been pushed into the dirt. There he was beaten and destroyed, all for messing with Rei.
Did the victim die? Yes. A few hours later from suffering third degree burns over half his body, even though he had been hospitalized.
Did anyone know other than the students? No. Rei's parents are the most influential. Disturbingly, the parents are mere puppets that follow Rei's every command. The students were too terrified to tell anyone, in case they were next. If they tried to quit... let's just say that Rei is very persuasive.
Jamie wasn't scared.
There was no need to bow down to Rei. There was no need to acknowledge him, or tell him how insane he was. He probably already knew.
Jamie could do whatever she wanted, but as long as she died after the 81 days... then all was 'well'.
--
Green, green grass. Blue, black bruises.
No, Jamie fell. She didn't get beaten.
And as she woke for the next day, she knew that it was going to be hell surviving the next few weeks.
If she survived.
80 more days.
Her desk was situated next to the window. In front of her was Mel - notorious for sleeping with anyone that wanted some, behind her was Jordan - smart, but annoying, and on her right was Rei - the one who started it all.
Flinging her bag down, she sat down and waited for the teacher to take the roll. The desk, she noticed, was altered. Dark, black words looked at her as she read them. Not all of them. Just the few that caught her attention. It looked as if someone had decided to form a picture from the words...
As her teacher started to talk in a droning voice, Jamie's mind wandered. Her eyes glanced over the fields - there were hardly any grass, it was mainly dirt. Dirt. Lots of it.
Last time something had happened, the victim had been pushed into the dirt. There he was beaten and destroyed, all for messing with Rei.
Did the victim die? Yes. A few hours later from suffering third degree burns over half his body, even though he had been hospitalized.
Did anyone know other than the students? No. Rei's parents are the most influential. Disturbingly, the parents are mere puppets that follow Rei's every command. The students were too terrified to tell anyone, in case they were next. If they tried to quit... let's just say that Rei is very persuasive.
Jamie wasn't scared.
There was no need to bow down to Rei. There was no need to acknowledge him, or tell him how insane he was. He probably already knew.
Jamie could do whatever she wanted, but as long as she died after the 81 days... then all was 'well'.
--
Green, green grass. Blue, black bruises.
No, Jamie fell. She didn't get beaten.
And as she woke for the next day, she knew that it was going to be hell surviving the next few weeks.
If she survived.
80 more days.
September 28, 2009
Take A Bow
I have many memories. Some are blank, confusing, disappointing, weird, incredible, foggy and absolute.
I have an incredibly tedious life. The same tasks are done continuously. And, because of this, I've always wanted freedom. But the idea also frightens me.
I can go back and try to fix everything. But I know that if I tried, I wouldn't be the person I am today. There would be too many things to fix anyway. For me, there's never been a perfect, but I tried to get as close as I could. I know that I was never ever satisfied with anything. I hated myself because of this.
My memories aren't all filled with hate. But they do cover the depressing moments of my life. I remember them the clearest. Funny how the brain works.
Sometimes I read over my diary entries, and I wonder, how could I have written something like that? Something so petty? Something so... real? My diary was filled with sentences of this person and that person. What made me angry, and what made me hate myself. It was filled with grief and mentions of death. There was the occasional happy entry, but the cause for it was small and trivial. I hate reading over my diary. It makes me cringe and hate myself even more.
I had stopped writing in my diary when I found out my brothers had read through some entries. I was shocked. Disappointed. Hateful. Angry. Bitter.
I stopped writing out what I felt. And because of that, I started to bottle all my feelings up. Just like last time.
Only this time, it was more destructive. This time, I couldn't deal with my problems.
I have an incredibly tedious life. The same tasks are done continuously. And, because of this, I've always wanted freedom. But the idea also frightens me.
I can go back and try to fix everything. But I know that if I tried, I wouldn't be the person I am today. There would be too many things to fix anyway. For me, there's never been a perfect, but I tried to get as close as I could. I know that I was never ever satisfied with anything. I hated myself because of this.
My memories aren't all filled with hate. But they do cover the depressing moments of my life. I remember them the clearest. Funny how the brain works.
Sometimes I read over my diary entries, and I wonder, how could I have written something like that? Something so petty? Something so... real? My diary was filled with sentences of this person and that person. What made me angry, and what made me hate myself. It was filled with grief and mentions of death. There was the occasional happy entry, but the cause for it was small and trivial. I hate reading over my diary. It makes me cringe and hate myself even more.
I had stopped writing in my diary when I found out my brothers had read through some entries. I was shocked. Disappointed. Hateful. Angry. Bitter.
I stopped writing out what I felt. And because of that, I started to bottle all my feelings up. Just like last time.
Only this time, it was more destructive. This time, I couldn't deal with my problems.
September 27, 2009
Paradise 002
Where the hell was I?
Seriously, what kind of island could have weather this horrendous, and so predictable?
The hailstorm the day before hadn't exactly been... dry.
Or nice.
But now, it was nice and dry.
I had to appreciate the sun as much as I could. I wrung my clothes out... on a tree branch that had a direct view of the sun. My other clothes, in my Louis Vuitton suitcase, were not used or wet yet. My beloved suitcase was wet, but as it was designer, I knew it would last for a long time.
I decided to go out for a swim. Easiest way to take a shower without being pummeled with hailstones. The sea was vast and blue. I had risen when the sun rose, I was used to trying to get the most out of a 'sun' day. I was waist deep in seawater when I started to cleanse myself. I guess you wouldn't really call it cleansing... but at least my body was being purified of all the grime and dirt it collected.
When my skin started to wrinkle, I decided to dry myself with my one and only towel. I did everything as quickly as I could because I knew I had only day before the next few days were filled with darkening skies and large hailstones.
I was lucky that I hadn't caught pneumonia. Yet.
At least I wasn't dead.
I relaxed in the sand, breathing deeply in and out as my yoga instructor had taught me.
I closed my eyes and planned what I would do.
First priority was food. Then, maybe creating another suitable shelter. My previous one had broken under the intensity of the hail. And some exploring, maybe. There was only so much to find. Maybe some other civilized race lived here as well. Or they could be uncivilized, vile indigenous people. Or the place could be entirely deserted. And empty.
A few minutes later. I set out. Gathering food and exploring at the same time. Time is precious.
And so is my sanity.
Seriously, what kind of island could have weather this horrendous, and so predictable?
The hailstorm the day before hadn't exactly been... dry.
Or nice.
But now, it was nice and dry.
I had to appreciate the sun as much as I could. I wrung my clothes out... on a tree branch that had a direct view of the sun. My other clothes, in my Louis Vuitton suitcase, were not used or wet yet. My beloved suitcase was wet, but as it was designer, I knew it would last for a long time.
I decided to go out for a swim. Easiest way to take a shower without being pummeled with hailstones. The sea was vast and blue. I had risen when the sun rose, I was used to trying to get the most out of a 'sun' day. I was waist deep in seawater when I started to cleanse myself. I guess you wouldn't really call it cleansing... but at least my body was being purified of all the grime and dirt it collected.
When my skin started to wrinkle, I decided to dry myself with my one and only towel. I did everything as quickly as I could because I knew I had only day before the next few days were filled with darkening skies and large hailstones.
I was lucky that I hadn't caught pneumonia. Yet.
At least I wasn't dead.
I relaxed in the sand, breathing deeply in and out as my yoga instructor had taught me.
I closed my eyes and planned what I would do.
First priority was food. Then, maybe creating another suitable shelter. My previous one had broken under the intensity of the hail. And some exploring, maybe. There was only so much to find. Maybe some other civilized race lived here as well. Or they could be uncivilized, vile indigenous people. Or the place could be entirely deserted. And empty.
A few minutes later. I set out. Gathering food and exploring at the same time. Time is precious.
And so is my sanity.
Build God, Then We'll Talk 01
She knows. He knows. They all know.
Jamie walked past the crowds of people. It was a difficult thing to do. Their eyes bored into hers; accusing, deceptive, incredulous. Jamie walked as fast as she could, without running.
Jamie faced her locker when the bell had rang. Now, there was no one to face. She would surely be in trouble for being late, but it didn't matter. Jamie cautiously opened her locker, as if waiting for something to jump out.
Inside. Inside was a single black rose. Prickly thorns adorned the stem. Black.
Black represented death.
Maybe, that was the reason why there happened to be formaldehyde in the room that she had previously used. She had escaped, of course, thanks to her sensitive nose. But she was close.
The others were just as close.
Jamie grabbed the rose, ignoring the pain the thorns caused, and threw it into the nearby bin. It missed. A few centimetres off. Of course.
Jamie grabbed her necessary books, closed her locker with a slam, and walked quickly towards her classroom.
Damn them all.
The countdown had begun: 81 days to live.
Jamie walked past the crowds of people. It was a difficult thing to do. Their eyes bored into hers; accusing, deceptive, incredulous. Jamie walked as fast as she could, without running.
Jamie faced her locker when the bell had rang. Now, there was no one to face. She would surely be in trouble for being late, but it didn't matter. Jamie cautiously opened her locker, as if waiting for something to jump out.
Inside. Inside was a single black rose. Prickly thorns adorned the stem. Black.
Black represented death.
Maybe, that was the reason why there happened to be formaldehyde in the room that she had previously used. She had escaped, of course, thanks to her sensitive nose. But she was close.
The others were just as close.
Jamie grabbed the rose, ignoring the pain the thorns caused, and threw it into the nearby bin. It missed. A few centimetres off. Of course.
Jamie grabbed her necessary books, closed her locker with a slam, and walked quickly towards her classroom.
Damn them all.
The countdown had begun: 81 days to live.
September 19, 2009
Flying High 01
The colours danced around. Sounds blared loudly. The party was in full action. All the people moved simultaneously to the beat of the music. There was smoke, fog drifting everywhere, giving the party a mysterious aura. The place was shrouded with intensity of the party.
Jump up. Jump down. Sway. Sway. Repeat.
Relia followed the same pattern again and again as the song played. She didn't want to seem out of place at a party. A nightclub was a dangerous place. If you showed anyone you didn't feel like you were supposed to be there... Well, then you wouldn't be. There was an endless supply of food and drinks. This was the first party she had ever been to. Maybe even the last.
Relia slowed down as the song slowed and finished. The people around her dispersed as they all reached for a drink. Some others stayed and started dancing to the new song. Relia walked away from the dance scene and walked towards where she hoped was the toilets.
"Hey." A robust man greeted her from behind. Relia turned around.
His hair was wavy, dirty blond. He had green eyes that had flecks of gray. He wore casual clothes that looked like he always frequented parties. He looked around early twenties... but not quite.
Relia looked at him. She had been taught many times before to never trust a stranger, especially at parties. This man was her opinion of drool. Well, not really. "Hello?"
"Hi." He flashed her a smile. "That's my area."
Area? Relia looked at the 'area' behind her and found a sign saying 'VIP Area'.
"Could you please move now?" He asked politely.
Relia twitched. Her first party. Her first stranger at her first party that had talked to her. That stranger was turning out to be a jerk. A very big one at that. His politeness could never fool her.
"What makes you think I'm not VIP?" Relia replied haughtily. "I belong here as much as you."
He snorted at that. "Well. First of all, look at you. You look as if you were dressed to go to prom. Second of all, you have this doe-eyed look on you. You don't belong here."
Relia glared at him. "You don't own this club so why should you care so much?"
He chuckled at that. "I'm allowed to care about whatever I want... What's your name?"
She paused. "Relia. What might yours be?"
"Is she bothering you, sir?" A bodyguard approached the two, looking at Relia in particular.
"Yes. She is bothering me. Would you mind taking her to that place?" He never made eye contact with Relia as he said this.
That jerk! Relia fumed. What the hell is that place? Her curiosity impeded her judgment as she was swiped by the bodyguard.
There was a small blow to her head, and her mind blanked out. Her mind drifting into a peaceful sleep...
Jump up. Jump down. Sway. Sway. Repeat.
Relia followed the same pattern again and again as the song played. She didn't want to seem out of place at a party. A nightclub was a dangerous place. If you showed anyone you didn't feel like you were supposed to be there... Well, then you wouldn't be. There was an endless supply of food and drinks. This was the first party she had ever been to. Maybe even the last.
Relia slowed down as the song slowed and finished. The people around her dispersed as they all reached for a drink. Some others stayed and started dancing to the new song. Relia walked away from the dance scene and walked towards where she hoped was the toilets.
"Hey." A robust man greeted her from behind. Relia turned around.
His hair was wavy, dirty blond. He had green eyes that had flecks of gray. He wore casual clothes that looked like he always frequented parties. He looked around early twenties... but not quite.
Relia looked at him. She had been taught many times before to never trust a stranger, especially at parties. This man was her opinion of drool. Well, not really. "Hello?"
"Hi." He flashed her a smile. "That's my area."
Area? Relia looked at the 'area' behind her and found a sign saying 'VIP Area'.
"Could you please move now?" He asked politely.
Relia twitched. Her first party. Her first stranger at her first party that had talked to her. That stranger was turning out to be a jerk. A very big one at that. His politeness could never fool her.
"What makes you think I'm not VIP?" Relia replied haughtily. "I belong here as much as you."
He snorted at that. "Well. First of all, look at you. You look as if you were dressed to go to prom. Second of all, you have this doe-eyed look on you. You don't belong here."
Relia glared at him. "You don't own this club so why should you care so much?"
He chuckled at that. "I'm allowed to care about whatever I want... What's your name?"
She paused. "Relia. What might yours be?"
"Is she bothering you, sir?" A bodyguard approached the two, looking at Relia in particular.
"Yes. She is bothering me. Would you mind taking her to that place?" He never made eye contact with Relia as he said this.
That jerk! Relia fumed. What the hell is that place? Her curiosity impeded her judgment as she was swiped by the bodyguard.
There was a small blow to her head, and her mind blanked out. Her mind drifting into a peaceful sleep...
September 12, 2009
Paradise 001
I picked up the scrap of paper.
The wind blew it away.
I stood, transfixed on the isolated island.
Islands weren't meant to be like this. They were supposed to be beautiful, and untouched. White sands, blue, blue seas and skies, and an everlasting shining sun.
No. I was on a gloomy, dark island. The sun shone every third day. It rained every other. Why was I trapped on such a sombre island?
Why me? Why this island?
I came from a distant place called Chile. There it's hot. Really, really hot. And I loved it there. But of course, having my mother's genes, I loved travelling. And I just happened to be on my way to Indonesia. The plane crashed, I'm pretty sure no one survived. But who knows? Now I was in the middle of nowhere. Lost in some distant place where no one would find me. I guess I should be thankful for the change of temperature... But my skin was being tampered with by the wind. It became all raw and my lips all chapped.
I hadn't met anything on this island. Nothing at all. There was no people - natives or foreigners. There were also no animals. No fish in the sea, no ravenous lions in the forests. Not even insects - which I should be thankful for. I hated those pesky creepy crawlies. There were plenty of edible fruits, which I managed to find. Coming from Chile and a soon-to-be nutritionist, I could tell the poisonous from the edible. Most of the colourful, extravagant ones were poisonous.
I scavenged whenever I could. My measly supply of food always diminished quickly. A place like this would be extremely fertile. But I had nothing that I brought with me. Just my clothes, my essentials (hair products, makeup), and my pride. Now, I had used all my cosmetics, and my clothes were beginning to smell revolting. My pride... well, that's still hopefully in tact.
I looked at the darkening sky, and ran quickly for shelter. Beneath two, large fern leaves, and I quietly sat down, making sure every part of me was covered. It was hailing today. I might get wet.
Welcome to my 'paradise'.
The wind blew it away.
I stood, transfixed on the isolated island.
Islands weren't meant to be like this. They were supposed to be beautiful, and untouched. White sands, blue, blue seas and skies, and an everlasting shining sun.
No. I was on a gloomy, dark island. The sun shone every third day. It rained every other. Why was I trapped on such a sombre island?
Why me? Why this island?
I came from a distant place called Chile. There it's hot. Really, really hot. And I loved it there. But of course, having my mother's genes, I loved travelling. And I just happened to be on my way to Indonesia. The plane crashed, I'm pretty sure no one survived. But who knows? Now I was in the middle of nowhere. Lost in some distant place where no one would find me. I guess I should be thankful for the change of temperature... But my skin was being tampered with by the wind. It became all raw and my lips all chapped.
I hadn't met anything on this island. Nothing at all. There was no people - natives or foreigners. There were also no animals. No fish in the sea, no ravenous lions in the forests. Not even insects - which I should be thankful for. I hated those pesky creepy crawlies. There were plenty of edible fruits, which I managed to find. Coming from Chile and a soon-to-be nutritionist, I could tell the poisonous from the edible. Most of the colourful, extravagant ones were poisonous.
I scavenged whenever I could. My measly supply of food always diminished quickly. A place like this would be extremely fertile. But I had nothing that I brought with me. Just my clothes, my essentials (hair products, makeup), and my pride. Now, I had used all my cosmetics, and my clothes were beginning to smell revolting. My pride... well, that's still hopefully in tact.
I looked at the darkening sky, and ran quickly for shelter. Beneath two, large fern leaves, and I quietly sat down, making sure every part of me was covered. It was hailing today. I might get wet.
Welcome to my 'paradise'.
Fearless
The tears that fall down, leaving trails of wetness as they slide down. The sky darkens, the wind howls, and the people in the streets look confused. Wandering past the greyness, and the depressions of the people, dissolving substances that people are unable to see. Once the dark days are over, there will be happiness, sunshine, love.
Ally can't accept the fate. She's been walking past the depressing people. Their aura's so dark, so black, and fading. All the lost souls in the world aren't going where they're supposed to. They're haunting everyone - the one's they hate, the one's they love. Ally can't understand why they're not going. It's as if they're conjoining an army. An army to destroy the world as it's a disappointing life. She quickly walks past everyone, not meeting the eyes of the dead people. Some don't even have eyes, they have nothing, empty sockets where vivid eyes used to be. Even those with eyes can't see, but their irises are clouded with a sort of betrayal, hate.
Ally can't breathe as the fogs deepens where she walks.
"You..." A raspy voice begs. Ally ignores it and keeps walking.
"I... We... need... you..." The voice says again. There are no footsteps but the voice seems closer. Ally turns around to face an old woman.
"Me?"
"The world is disappearing. The world is in despair." Her voice seemed to rekindle at the uplifting thoughts.
"I don't do this sort of saving the world. Not anymore." Ally combed her brown hair.
"But you still do. You're still looking around, and finding ways to cure the darkness." The old woman looked at Ally. "There's more than what you think."
"How do you know what I think?!" Ally took one more glance at the old woman and ran.
The shapes shift slowly. Rain brushes away the tears. Rain has been given the endless task of destroying the ones that haunt the world. She had to kill her mother. Her mother who had fallen into a depression and had let the darkness eat away at her.
Rain smiles darkly... She hates this world. She hates the useless feeling she has. She wants to run away, but she would have no where to run. Every place is a dead end. Everything comes back to haunt you. Rain hates it. Rain hates life. Rain hates everything.
She takes the lithe sword and unleashes her fury upon everyone on the street. The blade glistens with black blood. The sword isn't just any sword. It's a Jasinme relic. Passed down from generations. Its special properties not yet released or realized. But it takes away the lives... It absorbs everyone's life force, except the wielder's.
Rain maneuvered past the dead bodies and saw the female she recognized. Ally.
Rain swung the blade, and threw it at Ally. Ally dodged it at the last second, and looked at her attacker.
"You brought this upon the world." Rain stated, no expression in her face, her voice.
"I didn't bring anything." Ally replied nonchalantly. "I have done nothing wrong."
"i hate you."
The dark vines that creeped around approached the two.
"The feeling's mutual."
Rain sat down. Ally stared at her.
"Fearlessness. The only thing that we need right now."
"No idea what you're saying."
The sky turned dark, rain poured down, soaking both of them.
"The darkness will envelope us. We will disappear. We will be nothing, part of everything."
"I won't die without a fight."
"You don't need to fight. You're already dead."
Rain opened her eyes, and the skies seemed to go vertigo. Everything was fading away. Ally was panicking inside her head.
"It's the end."
Ally can't accept the fate. She's been walking past the depressing people. Their aura's so dark, so black, and fading. All the lost souls in the world aren't going where they're supposed to. They're haunting everyone - the one's they hate, the one's they love. Ally can't understand why they're not going. It's as if they're conjoining an army. An army to destroy the world as it's a disappointing life. She quickly walks past everyone, not meeting the eyes of the dead people. Some don't even have eyes, they have nothing, empty sockets where vivid eyes used to be. Even those with eyes can't see, but their irises are clouded with a sort of betrayal, hate.
Ally can't breathe as the fogs deepens where she walks.
"You..." A raspy voice begs. Ally ignores it and keeps walking.
"I... We... need... you..." The voice says again. There are no footsteps but the voice seems closer. Ally turns around to face an old woman.
"Me?"
"The world is disappearing. The world is in despair." Her voice seemed to rekindle at the uplifting thoughts.
"I don't do this sort of saving the world. Not anymore." Ally combed her brown hair.
"But you still do. You're still looking around, and finding ways to cure the darkness." The old woman looked at Ally. "There's more than what you think."
"How do you know what I think?!" Ally took one more glance at the old woman and ran.
The shapes shift slowly. Rain brushes away the tears. Rain has been given the endless task of destroying the ones that haunt the world. She had to kill her mother. Her mother who had fallen into a depression and had let the darkness eat away at her.
Rain smiles darkly... She hates this world. She hates the useless feeling she has. She wants to run away, but she would have no where to run. Every place is a dead end. Everything comes back to haunt you. Rain hates it. Rain hates life. Rain hates everything.
She takes the lithe sword and unleashes her fury upon everyone on the street. The blade glistens with black blood. The sword isn't just any sword. It's a Jasinme relic. Passed down from generations. Its special properties not yet released or realized. But it takes away the lives... It absorbs everyone's life force, except the wielder's.
Rain maneuvered past the dead bodies and saw the female she recognized. Ally.
Rain swung the blade, and threw it at Ally. Ally dodged it at the last second, and looked at her attacker.
"You brought this upon the world." Rain stated, no expression in her face, her voice.
"I didn't bring anything." Ally replied nonchalantly. "I have done nothing wrong."
"i hate you."
The dark vines that creeped around approached the two.
"The feeling's mutual."
Rain sat down. Ally stared at her.
"Fearlessness. The only thing that we need right now."
"No idea what you're saying."
The sky turned dark, rain poured down, soaking both of them.
"The darkness will envelope us. We will disappear. We will be nothing, part of everything."
"I won't die without a fight."
"You don't need to fight. You're already dead."
Rain opened her eyes, and the skies seemed to go vertigo. Everything was fading away. Ally was panicking inside her head.
"It's the end."
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