Fueling Hatred
Michael stood hidden behind the cartoon fish shower curtain. The cold water ran down his legs into the drain. While trying to avoid his legs, a stream of yellow soon paraded down along with the water. A scent of burning that fought against his musky body wash struck Michael’s nostrils. He calmly reached for the shampoo when he smelt it because he knew it was probably his Grandma’s awful cooking again. He shivered at the thought of eating burnt lasagna or overcooked spaghetti. So after his cold shower and food debate, he stepped out on the tiled floor and noticed smoke seeping through the door and fighting with the steam. At that moment he realized something was out of place and a sudden blare of the fire alarm confirmed his fears.
Michael threw on his clothes, stepped out of the bathroom, and ran down the flight of wooden stairs. On the floormat he noticed his Mother’s shoes missing and his Grandma’s still there. “Oh no! I can’t leave without Grandma,” he processed. He sprinted past the corridor and the kitchen that was ablaze with fire. The stacks of unpaid bills seemed to have fueled the fire and Michael’s fears along with them. “All those insurance calls. It makes sense. Something’s wrong with Mom.”
In the next room, his Grandma seemed to be napping on the couch. “Grandma! Wake up! Please!” he shouted. Out of desperation he started to shake her and notice there was no response. When Michael checked his Grandma’s pulse he realized that she was not napping after all. Just then he reached for his cell phone in his left pocket to call for help. It wasn’t there. The smoke started to cloud his thinking. “Grandma is dead. I will be dead too. I need to get out. Grandma will have to stay here,” he thought.
It was like a hateful spirit had possessed him when he ran to the front door. In front of the door and his only exit, a shadow-like figure caused him to freeze and almost fall over the Persian red carpet. There he saw his Mother pouring gasoline along the corridor as if she was guiding the fire. She took a glance at him, smiled, and threw the rest of the gasoline on him before she closed the door. The fire spread to his fresh clothes and dirtied his skin anew, but Michael knew he was the clean one in this family. Then as if to purge him, the smoke started to fill his lungs and the cloudiness in his head started to throw black holes into his vision. He was so close to freedom, but his body gave out and fainted there amongst the flames along with his hope.
Accidental Cheater
My name is Lillian Simoe and I despise people who cheat in relationships. Yet somehow, I have become the ultimate cheater. It's like all the cheat codes of every video game have been implanted in my mind by accident. I think it all started in grade school.
When I was in one of the kindergartens, a chubby boy named Tim asked me to be his girlfriend out of the blue. I had to say yes because I felt bad for him and his chubby cheeks were squeezable enough of a reason to be his girlfriend after all. Then I started to get bored with him like how I get bored of playing the same board game more than twice. His chubby cheeks were no fun to squeeze anymore and I became distant.
During the kinder-dances I danced with Mikey and Kevin, not Tim of course. Coincidentally, when Mikey and Kevin asked me to be their girlfriend; I said yes, to both of them. So I had three boyfriends for the first month of kindergarten. Heck, some of them might still be my boyfriend after all these years because I never had the chance or guts to break up with them.
Middle school was similar to the kindergarten drama, but things got worse in high school. High school is when things can get super serious with a boy and you do the dirty. I desperately wanted to try it because I wanted to feel connected to a new boyfriend. Then I wouldn't have a reason to move on to the next one. I finally did with Jared Duram in grade twelve when I received my first kiss. I say received cause obviously it was not mutual. He kissed me when I said yes to go to prom. Worst mistake in my life. After that kiss, I got so grossed out I decided to not go with him, but I forgot to tell him. So instead I went with his twin brother Tyler. Jared didn't catch on the whole night. He just though I was really close to his brother until Tyler decided to kiss me on the dance floor. That led to a fist fight, two brothers escorted out, and me hooking up with Danny Astor who was cheating on his then girlfriend, Opal.
I had no idea until I ran into her in the ladies bathroom in a stall crying and throwing up. Turns out he got her knocked up and didn't want to deal with her anymore. I was so pissed! How could a guy not take responsibility for his actions? She was super wary of me because she saw the flirting and stuff so I told her to wipe her tears and vomit because we were getting our revenge. I pulled her towards our target and as soon as I could see his ugly pretty face I punched him right in the nose. I screamed every profane phrase I could think of at him with this tiny sick girl who eventually just puked on him. We were both escorted out of prom for the following reasons: yelling profanity, starting violence, disturbing the venue, and puking on the dance floor. Even though we were almost expelled, my prom was epically awesome. The little girl Opal and I became the bestest of friends. Well she's my only friend really. I was there for her from the middle of prom to the birth of her baby.
When Lilly was born (Opal named her after me), I finally saw the love that I wanted to experience. The love that transcends everything and is unbreakable just like in the Disney franchise. At eighteen years old I wanted true love and a chubby baby. When I entered university my hopes were crushed. I was thrown into the so-called hook-up culture while my best friend was getting married to her childhood friend Tim. I never told her that he was my kindergarten boyfriend who I never broke up with and I hoped it stayed that way. Anyways, university was a breeze to get through academically. The relationships were not so easy. I never really had a "boyfriend" per say, I just dated a lot of people. I even went out with this girl named April once, but she was a real cheater who actively took things from people. I just stopped answering her calls and texts. I was really looking for true love.
Then the most unfortunate thing happened at a nightclub when I went with the chess club from my university. The guys wouldn't leave me alone and another fight broke out. This time the bouncer took care of them and then went on to ask for my number. Such bad luck. I had enough of the scene and left. The two girls from the chess club didn't get along with me anyway.
Outside I saw one of my TA's sitting on the curb by the club. I figured I'd be waiting for a ride too so I sat on the other side. Somehow he ended up scooting the whole two meters without getting up to sit right beside me. We started making some nice conversation and talked about stuff like school and life. Then he started talking about all his past exes who all cheated on him. I felt super bad because I was kind of like them, but not really. Then out of drunk stupor, he pulled out a diamond ring and said it was for his last ex, but he caught her sleeping with another man. He asked me if I have slept with another man while cheating and I accidentally mentioned that I have never really been with a man. He exclaimed that I was pure and just then on the curb outside of a nightclub, my TA proposed to me. I didn't say no, but I didn't outright say yes. He took it the wrong way.
After a couple of days, I met him in class even though I was desperately trying to avoid him. He handed me a cutesy note to go meet him in the garden centre. I though we were going to talk about gardening because the class was about Plant Biology, but instead he got down on one knee and proposed "properly." Everything was so beautiful and he put so much effort into it that I shed one pitying tear for him. Somehow as if set up, there were people who took my tear the wrong way and awed while other people with phones filmed it so I, out of pathetic sympathy, said yes. And that is how I accidentally got engaged to my TA.
Now I'm sitting with Opal and her baby girl deciding how to get out of it because I'm still dating around seven guys at this time. I mean I liked my TA because he was smart and nice, but I didn't love him. I felt bad for him. Opal said I just had to tell him the truth, but I couldn't make myself an ex-fiancé on his long ex list that he'd talk about when he's drunk on the curb. I looked hopelessly at that baby and longed for that love. I felt trapped and wronged. I'm not trying to cheat on these boys and men. I just want to find true love.
I pleaded for some god or transcending being to send me a sign. It was then that the baby started choking on it's own spit and the idea hit me. The world was telling me to plan the accidental murder of my accidental fiancé.
I Matter
I sit in class listening to the nonsense I am being taught. I'm wasting my precious life here in a classroom learning about something that I'll easily forget.
Then it hits me. My life. I'm wasting it. I'm breathing for no reason. There's no point. It's all useless. Everything that I do is pointless. Just like my existence. I can't breathe. I'm on the floor curled up in the fetal position trying to return to my original state. I'm choking on the air that once helped me breathe.
I hate everything. I don't want to be here. I don't want to live in this world. It's pointless. I'm pointless. I don't deserve to matter. I don't deserve the attention I'm getting. I want to die.
Black.
I'm breathing again in a hospital room. I look at everyone in the room. The mirror was the only one that caught my eye. I looked healthy, but I was sick.
I was still alive and yet I constantly felt like dying. My heart melted along with my happiness. Nothing tied me here except my human body. My existence tied me here.
I want to believe I matter.
But do I actually matter?
No.
Stolen Strangers
He watched me from across the room. His eyes entangling with the movement of my body. The club music pounded in our ears. It was the one thing we shared other than our strangeness. I moved with the beat and dipped my hips back and forth, eliciting contact. He disappeared once I closed my eyes and opened them. The shine of the minuscule lights offered the explanation of a mirage. My mind could not comprehend his sudden absence because he still felt like he was there. This man was watching and keeping to himself. At least the rum in my stomach kept assuring me so.
When I left to fill my lungs with soothing smoke, I felt him there. His dark gaze burned my back and my throat. The desire surrounded my body, choking me. Calmed and collected, I rejoined the chaos.
The music enveloped my head and began to cause ringing in my veins. He was behind me. His large hands lusted at the small of my back. He stole me away from myself. I was stolen away from the movement of the music. The stranger stole me away. He ruined me. Made me his own. He stole my freedom.
Day 1
Dearest reader,
I don't have much longer. The disease is spreading all across the world. My loved ones have been infected. I have a sore that is unexplainable. I might soon join them. I'm very happy though. The world will end and so will the suffering.
I wonder what happens if I turn. Will I be mindless? Or will I have no choice but to eat my own kind knowingly? I should probably blow my brains out before that.
Although I can't reader. I want to live. I want to thrive and live in a world where everything is sunshine, no shadows. How impossible that is. How impossible my survival is. I hope all will be
Fixing Broken
We are all broken.
Bits and pieces of us are scattered around the ground.
Forming a sad unfitting puzzle on the Earth.
Just like a human body itself.
Broken hearts. Broken bones.
The broken spirits.
And yet there remains a hope of being fixed. If things being fixed.
The Earth being fixed.
But like the broken and moving plates of the world: we will never be completely fixed.