I sat on the bridge, my legs hanging off the side. It was a nice, breezy day. The sky was a deep blue, cloudless and beautiful. The sun shone down on the waters below me, making it a shimmering green.

The bridge was where I went daily, a sanctuary for me to go to. The days slowly passing, with me on the same bridge in that same spot.

Maybe this is the day.

I have repeated that line everyday I came here. But today I was confident.

I looked down at the sea under me. Amazingly calm, waiting to engulf me in the deep waters. I flung the piece of paper behind me and clambered onto the railings.

I’ve always wanted to ask someone these questions.

Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned?

To be thrown around? Like someone’s rag doll, with no life?

Do you know what it’s like to love someone?

And to have your heart broken by them?

Do you know what it feels like to want to die?

Every single wretched moment of your life?

I bet you don’t.

And I bet you don’t care.

We are all broken, all of us.

Each one with our unique scar.

But I am different, I am not just broken.

I am so full of scars that I am disfigured.

My happiness a facade.

I am shattered. Crushed to dust.

And there is no way back.

~~~~~

I closed my eyes. The breeze ruffling my hair and clothes. And, I smiled.

For the first time in years.

Then, I shuffled forwards and lifted my foot. I was ready to let go.

As I tilted forwards, I felt a cold hand grasp my ankle. I spun round, furious.

“What? Go away!” I yelled.

“I do. And, I do,” the girl said. She had hazel, brown hair and amber eyes. The eyes that 

reached my soul. But that wasn’t the only thing unique about her. Her complexion was pale and she wore a baggy hospital gown. Despite all that, she was beautiful.

“What?” I asked, my voice softened. I was mesmerised.

“I do know these feelings. And, I do care. I really do,” Her lips twisted into a smile as she held up the paper.

I didn’t know what to say.

I stared at her and she stared at me. Both unrelenting. But she let go of my ankle and held up her hand.

Something caught my eye. Her wrists were covered in huge scars, still healing from the cut. I realised that she was like me. Broken, shattered and scarred. But different.

She was healing.

Her face was radiant, not showing a trace of misery of torture. But me? I gave up so fast. 

Looking at her hand, reaching out to me, I wanted to grab it. To put the past behind me and be reborn again. Before I could, she grinned.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?”

“For a new life,”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I grabbed her hand.

I was broken, broken to a point of no return. Grabbing her hand? Just a choice I made because I thought my life couldn't be worse. 

But now? Now, I think, I found the one to mend me. And I hope she found hers. 

I look at her, smile plastered on her face despite the scars covering her wrists and her heart.

My sunshine, my healer. 

And that day, was the day that I smiled a second time.

I looked around me, the familiar surroundings. Pitch darkness and a musty scent. It had not changed for quite a while. I lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, my arms outstretched. It one of those days that I reminisce about the past.

It was like a dream.

Raucous laughter echoed throughout the room as we played together. It was just her and me. The days we ran around the lawn and the days we spent inside. The times we had fun till late at night and the times we just simply spoke. And of course, there were the times you hugged me with trembling hands while your parents argued outside. I simply accompanied you as you whimpered softly into the dark, dark night. It was simple, really. Me by your side. Enjoying our time together, not counting the minutes, not counting the seconds. When time flew by.

The memories went on, from the time I met her till since she abandoned me here. I looked at the floor my my side, a piece of my face just out of reach.

~~~~~

Time now crawls a second at a time, but I never stop hoping that she’ll come back here, and apologise. And we’ll go back home together, go back to the old times, and she’ll make my clock tick again. Tick tock, tick tock…

Children think toys are childish as they grow up. Something inanimate that can be thrown away.

The clocks ticks in the same rhythm as my heart. Irregularly.

The piece of me just lying there, as I imagine my face without it. I am broken. All toys are.

The hope that she’ll come back is fading. She’d probably already forgotten me. But the memories just keep coming back. 

When the toys are thrown away, they all break. Each and every one of them. Just like me.

The future seems bleak as the light fades. As I know in my heart that she’ll never come back. Though, I just can't help hoping.

Hoping for someone to come and dry my tears and mend my scars from long ago. 

The day that she left, not only my face broke. Something else shattered into dust.

Actually, you don’t have to apologise. Just come back. Come back to me.

My heart.

~~~~~

"Jane, Jane, love me again."

I still keep those flowers that you bought me on my birthday. I remember you presenting me with them and a slightly sheepish smile. I remember me giving you a hug and peck on the cheek as a reward.

I still remember those times.

I never really cherished what we used to have until it was gone. That was my greatest regret - that and not being by your side on the day that you decided to put an end to your life.

I always wonder what I could have done to stop your untimely death. After all, I was caught unprepared when Death decided to take you by the hand and lead you out of my life. I always wonder whether it was your own fault - or mine.

What would be different if you were still alive? Would you still have remained by my side up till now? Would we still have what we used to? And most importantly, would you still be happy?

Because I thought you were strong enough to cope with life and its many pains but apparently you couldn't take it anymore.

You had me to share your burden with, but I guess I just wasn't good enough a reason for you to keep living. Wasn't good enough to make you happy. Just wasn't enough.

Lots of decisions are tough to make, mostly because you don't know whether to follow your heart or your mind when you're making them. But I followed both my heart and mind when I made the decision of loving you and I have never regretted it even though all you left me to remember you with was pain.

i just saw you with her. your smile so bright it could blind. white teeth flashing in a grin that shone brighter than the sun itself - that perfect smile that used to shine for me. her giggling, twirling her hair, so obviously infatuated with you.

i guess the reason why i'm jealous is that scene reminds me of what we used to be - my memories of you are a wash of colour amidst sepia recollections. 

while other photographs fade, becoming dull and gray and hazy, my memories of you are photographs that still remain clear, glossy and seemingly freshly taken even after years of being stored in the album of my memory. 

but i'm chasing unachievable dreams, pining for things i can't have. like you.

all you can spare for me now is a bitter glance. while you treat her like she's the only girl in the entire universe.

i hate you.

but i still miss you.

i would be glad to have you back, even with the quarrels, the shouting, the problems we had.

when we were an item i felt on top of the world. you told me i was the best thing you could ever have.

now, looking back, i wonder how many girls you've said that to.

and now, you barely notice me. even when i walk past you in the hallways you act as if i'm just another random stranger that you never knew. oh, how wrong and ironic when last time you told me that you would always remember me, always think of me, that we would be together forever and always. 

but we walked through each other like phantoms through walls. you left no trace behind in my life. you just left. disappeared. took everything that was yours away from me and disappeared from my life. i told you oh, darling, our page in life's book's not yet complete. how could you just leave? but you were emotionless and unfeeling. told me i didn't matter anymore. told me it was her you wanted, not me. all you left behind was the memories. our memories.

but i've finally realised that it's not you i'm in love with anymore -

it's the memory of us that i'm pining for.

Stars, they are mine. 

With you, constellations.

Time is not for you or me,

but love, a huge infinity.

For time shall end,

but everything will be always,

Okay.

Smiles and poses.

A moment stuck

in Time.

Joy and excitement

Captured.

In time,

many photographs are collected.

Landscapes, wefies, selfies.

Some happy, some engulfed in

Melancholy.

Regardless...

Send me the pictures

you took of

Us two.

Because they’re the memories

of

Me and You.

So I’ll never forget those scenes of my life;

And I will relive hose moments when it’s the end of my line.

Perhaps you may visit me,

maybe you never will.

Perhaps some dreams are never meant to come true.

But I’ll wait.

~~~~~

As you grow up,

Innocence will be lost.

Down they go into the oblivion of Void.

If you visit me,

I’ll have nothing more to ask.

When my hair turns white,

and yours remains

Black.

I’ll just have one request.

Live your life without any regrets.

If you need to,

just

Forget.

You can forget me

if

it lessens the pain and hurt.

Let me forever remain a sweet memory,

of

Long, long ago.

In that pure heart.

To cry is to shed tears.

And many shed tears in the dark.

Tears stream down their faces as they lament.

Anguish and regret blurs their eyes.

Others cry with tears welled up in their eyes.

No, don’t cry, don’t cry, I will not cry,

but in their hearts tears have already been shed.

They sit in a corner,

watching others fawn over the weepers,

and wonder,

“Oh, why not I?”

Friends are people who betray you and make fun of you.

But they never fail to notice when you cry.

They are the

Ones,

who quietly say,

stand at your shoulder,

and

whisper in your ear.

“It’s okay.”

And you know,

it’s all that needs to be said.

Sometimes we try to catch the reflection of the moon in the water;

Needless to say, it doesn’t work.

Sometimes we just do our work with intense fervor;

Contrary to our expectations,

Nothing happens.

Nothing.

We scream,

shout

and

writhe.

Why the agony of living in this world?

Nothing happens here.

You ask yourself.

“Why toil for a lifetime?”

But no answer is heard.

Again, nothing.

Nothingness;

Oblivion;

Void.

Falling into the depths

of darkness.

Inescapable darkness.

You hear nothing

see

nothing,

feel nothing.

And we just decide to leave this world of endless

Pain.

But

as there are exceptions to everything,

there is an

Exception

to this.

Some people just

keep crawling even when they are knocked flat onto the ground.

Others ridicule them as worms but they ignore it.

They crawl on their knees even when they don’t have the strength to go on anymore

and

continue living in relish of this unforgiving world.

To find their purposes,

to find their dreams.

To fulfill their purposes

and

to try again

and again

and again.

Catching the moon in the water.

“Courage is not having the strength to go on; It is going on even when you do not have the strength.” ~Theodore Roosevelt

Courage

or

Folly?

You tell me.

I was backed up against a wall, haggard breaths forming mist in front of my mouth. Still, I tried desperately to move back, in some hope that the wall behind might just give way. My fists pounded on the wall behind me, using every bit of oxygen I had inside me to scream, once, “Let me out! I swear! LET ME OUT!”

The footsteps came closer towards me as my legs threatened to give out. I skittered left and right in hopes of getting further away from the sound. Though, no matter where I moved, they were still around me.

“No, no, no! Is this a trick? If it is, it’s not funny. So not funny,” my teeth chattered as my mouth struggled to form the words.

But deep inside, I knew. This was an abandoned warehouse. The name spoke for it. No one had been inside in a long, long time.

The footsteps were only a meter away from me, now. I strained my eyes to make out several figures of different shape and sizes through the meager ray of light shining through the ceiling boards.

Around me, were faceless creatures, walking in a mechanical manner, one foot in front of the other. My heart palpitated quicker as they came closer, and yet closer again.

They were all foreign, something that no one had ever seen before. But I knew what they were.

That was my last thought as I was buried under the pile of bodies, struggling for breath. Blacking out.

Grandpa was right. I shouldn’t have come here. 

I should have believed him. 

They were alive. 

“It can’t be. No, this must be wrong.”

The glint in our eyes told him otherwise.

At that moment, all blood drained from his face as it become stark white, pallid and something in him just broke. He let out a howl like a cornered animal and began dashing off into the woods, as far as his malnourished body could carry him.

Without a moment’s hesitation, we gave chase.

Footsteps thundered on the soil as we kicked up leaves and dust chasing Justin. His figure was the only thing we saw. The only thing in our impoverished corneas. The sound of broken twigs rang out all around Justin.

Closer, closer and closer.

He must have heard it, for he pushed himself to run faster.

Justin’s ragged breaths echoed in our ears. His leg hit a rock and the momentum sent him tumbling forward.

By the time he hit the ground, we were all there. No command was given, just instinct. 

We surrounded him and he was caught. He was slowly succumbing to his inevitable fate.

And a piercing howl reverberated throughout the woods.

~~~~~

I looked around the gathered circle of sunken eyes and pallid skin, each face home to a drooling mouth made grotesque with hunger, eyes alive with yearning as the acrid smell of searing meat wafted from the fiery embers.

The food was cooked.

Weeks on an island, stranded did something to us. It made us insane. For food.

Ravenous hands reached out as the prepared flesh was passed out to each member of our ragtag group of survivors. The insanity in their eyes shone as they grasped the meat as if it were their lives.

I passed a charred slice to my young daughter and grimaced as she hastily tore into it, juices from each bite greasing her lips and chin.

But I took my time, savoring the intense, smoky flavor of great piquancy, letting the

morsels dissolve in my mouth and explode across my tongue.

All we could think was food.

It might have been wrong, but it was delicious. Absolutely delicious.

Sorry Justin.

Pangs of guilt had replaced our pangs of hunger after we had devoured our meal.

It wasn’t that we disliked Justin, it was just that he drew the shortest straw.