Monday, 30 March 2009

Heat these Veins.

I hate it when you try to make me forget about the things that make me happy.

When you say I should let go and you dont understand why I still hold on.

When you tell me its stupid and pointless.

You dont understand.

Go ahead, call it teenage angst with all the grouchiness and the fighting back, maybe it is.

All I asked for is a few weeks.

You can't even give me that without putting me down?

Sunday, 29 March 2009

I'm so Scared but I don't Show it.

I am just a little girl
Lost in the moment
I'm so scared
But I don't show it

I'm only 16. I'm 16 and yet I lose sleep over philosophizing. I want to know the meaning of my life. I want to know why I'm here. I want to know which path I should take. I think about these things all the time. I want an answer, some kind of sign that tells me everything. I want to know all of it when the truth is, I dont even know what I want, or what my dreams are.
I keep questioning the same things after I realise there's no point questioning. After I understand that it just is. No explanations, nothing. Quite often, after reasoning with myself that we shouldn't set life goals so that we dont fall into the trap of complacency, I start thinking about life goals and dreams. It's an annoying cycle. But the worst part is, I think I need it. I need to subject myself to such complicated questions because it just makes me think out of the box.. Gives me a view on things.

I started thinking about these things [again] after I saw that photo, above. It looks so carefree and.. happy :) The blurred background makes it seem like they've lost the world in their little bubble, all they have is each other, and that's all they really want or need. Their happiness is found in holding hands and laughing. I want that. I want to be able to just hold someone's hand and laugh as if the world is a huge bubble of joy. :)

Friday, 27 March 2009

9: Luck is on Your Side, Stephanie.

Stephanie took a bite of the apple, and savoured its sweet, juicy flesh on her tongue. It reminded her of crisp autumns and cool breezes, where the sun shines, but there's no heat. A swarm of bubbles rushed up her body, lifting her mood. The apple smoothly slipped down her throat, and she opened her mouth for another bite. She brought her arm up to her teeth, but dropped the apple almost instantly.
Her stomach was burning, she could hear the sizzles and the hissing it was making inside her body, it was eating itself. She fell to the ground, beetles ran straight into the nest of her hair, Genie panicked from above.
Arms grabbing her stomach, eyes rolling back into her head. She choked on air, the lights around her started getting brighter, and everything else was blurring. She reached for something, anything that would tell her she was still alive. She clenched the sand on the ground, she tried opening her eyes wider but she couldnt see anything. Her arms and legs were shaking uncontrollably, her head was spinning and her stomach setting a fire, a fire that was spreading throughout her body. She screamed a hollow, low choke. Genie was holding her wrists, yelling something she couldn't hear. He kept saying it over and over again, but it was just a blur. Stephanie strained to hear what it was, forcing herself to ignore the pain. Finally, it was clear.
"You still have one wish left"
Stephanie racked her brain as quickly as she could.
"Genie" she choked, "I want the perfect man to find me, and cure me of this."
Stephanie moaned in pain, she tasted blood, it was dripping down her chin and onto the sand, she let go of the sand in her fists and let herself slip into the darkness.

Lenny Bacon has a soul!

It was about php250, [Rm20] which is pretty expensive for 16 shots. I had to learn how to load it myself and I got all confused, but I figured it out and I've taken ONE picture! I'm saving the rest for tomorrow and especially since I bought the last 2 rolls the store had, I dont wanna have to go searching for more. I guess I'll have to wait til Team Manila or Fully Booked finally decide to restock.

SO YEAH! I have a plan, once i get the film developed, I'm going to stick them on my wall and make wallpaper out of em! It'll sorta be like a .. travel through the photos, kinda thing. Like, watch my photo skillz develop and get awesomer as I gain more experience. Woot! I wanna see what kind of pics I get, before anything. So then I'll know more about it, you know? Gosh, its so difficult when the picture doesnt digitally pop up on the screen. Leaves you wondering how bad your pics are gonna turn out.

Anyway, will take pics at Ilagans tomorrow, going swimming with the crew minus gia and divisha. Excited but i wish you guys could go!


Tuesday, 17 March 2009

In the Summertime; When the weather is Fine.

Hello readers!

I apologize for not having written anything these past few days, I've taken a break from all the story telling and I'm enjoying summer, so far. I recently had a birthday and it was fantastic, seriously. My friends surprised me by hiding under by bed and in my closet : was a good surprise, really. I got a Holga! I named it Lenny Bacon, and it turns out my best friends Lienne and Monisha also got me a Holga! Isn't that awesome? I wanted one and now I have two! I named the new one Jelly Bean :)


Sweat drips down the back of my neck, like long streaks of wet heat. It dries on my skin and leaves a sticky trail along my back. My exasperated sighs escape my dry lips, my parched throat calling out for something to drink. I imagine ice cubes clinking along a tall glass, filled with a frothy, colourful drink. My limbs tremble with ache, the summer heat has weakend them into lanky, useless accessories. They lay in a bundle on top of me. My brown hair is stuck to my face, tousled and wet with sun and hot air. Like a desperate athlete racing of the gold, my ceiling fan is spinning at its fastest above me, but not fast enough. I squint in the harsh light of the blue sky my windows are letting in. And enjoy the Summer.

Sunday, 15 March 2009

8: Didn't You Learn Never to Speak to Strangers?

"Genie? Is that you?" called the King. He was standing on the palace walkway, before the main gate, with a tiger prowling around his ankles, growling defensively.

"Yes, my dear friend! Please, allow us in!"

The King signalled to the guards to let the guests in, and the large iron barriers swung open. The genie and the King exchanged hugs and claps, but Stephanie was left standing in front of the palace, her mouth open in amazement. She looked down at her dress, she had been wearing it for 3 days straight, it only looked looked presentable when she was standing beside a street beggar. She didn't feel fit to set foot onto the King's premises.

"Who's your friend, hmmmm?" the King asked, eyeing Stephanie from head to toe, stroking his tangled beard. Stephanie shuddered at the sight of his fat belly hanging over his pants.
"This is the lovely Stephanie White. She's my new master," genie explained
"Lovely indeed... she could be the master of me, alright."

Stephanie clutched her arms around her, trying to fend off the King's disturbing stares.

"Stephanie, this is my dear friend and former master, Achladin"
"Pleased to meet you, Achla-"
"-Please. Call me your majesty."
"Fine. Your Majesty"

The men started reminiscing about their time together, not wanting to intrude, Stephanie walked to the edge of the balcony and watched the town from above. It looked like a pile of rubble on top of another, she couldn't understand how such a wealthy king could leave his city like that and live in such wealth by himself. She saw the little children playing their imaginative games in the alleys, the teenaged girls hanging laundry and making pots, their fathers probably in some common room smoking pipes and watching performances of young ladies dressed in bells, chiming with every step they took. The wives selling the goods they spent all night making. Even far away, she could still see the bright colours of the items on display along the roads. The sight made her hungry for a bright red, juicy apple.

"Genie, your majesty, I would like to go buy an apple. Would you like to accompany me?"
The genie nodded and looked to Achladin, who waved his hands away and walked back into his throne room with an exotic lady by his side, one of the many who pampered him and kept him busy throughout the day.


On the dusty road, Stephanie eyed the fruits. They looked so tempting, layed out on their wooden stands, shining brightly in the afternoon sun. The only problem was that the merchants had increased their prices as soon as they saw a possible buyer who was not of tan skin. Stephanie sighed, and turned to walk away.

"Is it an apple, you desire, miss?"

A lady walked up to Stephanie, she was hunched over and her face was hidden beneath a blue cloak. Under her arm was a basket with the reddest, plumpest apples Stephanie had ever seen, each one calling her name, begging her to take a bite. Her mouth watered at the sight of them, she nodded.

Genie pulled her away, "Stephanie, remember that this is Agraba. You trust no one."
Stephanie walked back to the woman and asked her, "how much?"
"No charge. Consider as a gift, from me." she smiled,

"Stephanie, now you really know it's a scam. There's no such thing as free in Agraba."

Stephanie eyed the apple greedily, and took one into her hands, she looked at genie, then turned around to thank the lady, but she was gone.

Friday, 13 March 2009

7: Childhood Fantasies Turn into Obsession

Victoria crouched on the floor,

"No" she whimpered.

Her dead father's precious lamp was gone, and so was Stephanie. Victoria shook with anger, that was her father's favourite item in his entire collection. He once explained how there was a Genie inside, and how that Genie had given him everything his heart had wished for.

"Daddy.. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cried, over and over again, clenching her bloody hands, which had been cut open by the glass shards on the floor. She had spent hours digging through them all, desperately looking for the lamp and the wretched slave.

She picked herself off the ground, and knew what she had to do. She thought of her plan as she climbed the winding staircase into her private room, fumbled for her keys, and opened the heavy, oak door.

Victoria pulled the cloth off of her big, black pot. She breathed heavily into it. The last time she used this wasn't too long ago, and she knew she had to control herself. She had to stop, but she couldn't. The obsession, it was taking over her, making her do the craziest things, only to be flooded with regret later on in the night. Ever since the mirror's answers changed, her night's were spent scrubbing her hands with bleach until they were raw, the sink flooded with blood, this wasn't the Victoria she used to be. This wasn't her at all.

She faced the mirror. Framed with ivory and rosewood, engraved with delicate swirls, Victoria loved it when she was younger. Her mother often read to her when she was alive, and Victoria's favourite story included a mirror, too. Every night, before sleeping, she asked her own mirror the same question the queen asked.

But that was before. Victoria changed once she hit adulthood, and the mirror started giving her the answers she didn't want to hear.
Victoria screamed and threw her crystals onto the floor. They didn't break, which made her angrier. She opened her jars and ripped seeds out of her plants, she squeezed the juices out of the rare flowers and she chopped up the animal corpses, throwing them all into the pot, and singing to the mirror,

"Mirror, how can you do this to me? You love torturing me, you love seeing me like this, wild with insanity. Mirror, what is wrong with me? Why are you not saying MY name? Why her? Stephanie of all people, she is nothing but a maid, I've dressed her in rags, for in rags she should be! How dare you? How dare you call that slave fairer than me, mirror. I will take care of her, once and for all. She'll just be another body six feet under, and it will be because of you, mirror."

Victoria picked up one the apples from the basket, and dipped it into the stew. It sizzled and smoked, and revealed a ruby red, juicy apple. She marveled at the beauty of it, and laughed. She held her stomach and laughed and laughed and laughed some more, hooting into the moonlight. Tears ran down her face, bringing streaks of black with them. Her eyes open wide, her laughter shaking the room, Victoria slowly turned to face the mirror. Stroking the hard surface, she lay her cheek against it, a deranged smile snuck onto her face, and with a clenched jaw, she said,

"Wish Me Luck,"

Tuesday, 10 March 2009

6: Where They Cut Off Thy Ears if They Don't Like Thy Face.

Stretches of sand as far as the eye can see, collapsing in untidy rows before the heat of the unforgiving sun. Casting its harsh rays upon the golden grains, and the brown necks that travel across it. Merchants of all kinds, some dressed in maroon and purple silk, with golden chains around their wrists and necks and golden teeth in their quick mouths, with a train of camels of strong legs and absent thirst, then there are those dressed in rags, with one camel to a ship load, unwashed for days, but dragging themselves along to make a living.

Within the city walls, brick houses and shiny objects line every street, women selling fragrant perfumes of pink and green, cloth of reds and whites and blues, or colourful birds twittering away in little straw cages. Begging children wearing nothing but dirt and resentment, running up to travellers and pulling on their sleeves. Stray cats watch on the rooftops, eyeing the hectic, cramped town alleyways. Stands lined with red, juicy apples, ripe mangoes and bright yellow bananas, tempting every theif to try their luck. Old women draped in cloaks hide under bridges, beckoning you with a story of your future, the possibilities, the failures and the dreams yet to come.

In the center of the bustling city is a great, white, marble structure. The palace. Where the king sits upon his throne, fanned and hand-fed grapes by exotic women. Bengal tigers roam around the premises, guarding the royal family. Jasmines and hisbiscuses line every bush, embedding their sweet, floral scent into every wall, and drift from room to room. Fountains pour out glittering, clear water in the middle of every garden, only to be caught by mystical mermaids, it is in this house alone, where poverty is not present. No trace of the city outside the walls can be found within them, in this house, even the maids wear slippers made of jewels.


"Genie, where are we?"
Stephanie asked as she opened her eyes and saw a very unfamiliar place.

Genie put his arm around her, "We're in Agraba, land of the thieves. I see you are now convinced that I am what I have been saying I am all along. Oh, but I have been very rude. May I ask your name?"

"It's Stephanie. Stephanie White."

"Well, Stephanie. Be careful in these lands. The locals have hands the speed of light, and mouths of a snakecharmer and his flute. Do not stray, and you will be fine. Now let us go look for my former master, I have come to understand he is a king now."

Friday, 6 March 2009

Powder Blue

I dropped a glass today.
From the moment it slipped from my hands, my world went by in slow motion.
The falling glass looked so epic, I wanted to save it.
I felt overwhelming regret, letting it slip through my clumsy hands.
And as it hit the floor, I knew it was too late,
each shard reflected my face, my hopes, my fears.
Flying high, above the floor, sparking with pinks and greens and other colours of the spectrum.
And then gave up their attempt to fly, and sank back to the ground,
rattling for freedom, until they finally stopped dead.
And just lay there.
And lay there.
Ready to cut me.

5: Leap of Faith

Stephanie sat in the middle of the room, the hem of her dress soaking in the blood from the floor. The prince had left with Fiona by his side a few hours ago, as what was left of her foot fit the glass slipper, she was therefore his rightful bride. Fiona had always wanted to be a princess, she got what she wanted, as always. Victoria had told Stephanie to clean up the mess they had made, and by mess, Stephanie was not expecting a pool of blood and leftover pieces of foot.

"All this blood.." Stephanie murmured to herself, "it makes me want to faint.. How could Victoria do this to her own child? It's sick.. Twisted. She's a horrible mother to Fiona and I."

Stephanie thought of her own mother, and was angered by the very thought.

"Although, she is better than my own. I didn't deserve to be abandoned. No child ever deserves that."

Stephanie set the furniture straight in the room, by the look of it, Fiona had put up a fight. Figurines were smashed on the floor and a table was turned over. Stephanie didn't blame her, Victoria was a maniac. Stephanie started picking up the pieces of shattered porcelain and glass when she noticed a glittering object. It was golden, and oddly shaped. It looked like a gravy dish, but it was too heavy. She wiped the blood specks off of it, and it started shaking in her hands. Trying to contain it in her clasped fingers, the figurine rattled and grew hot. Stephanie dropped it on the floor when it started smoking, and checked her burnt fingertips. She watched it shake, and thrash about, releasing smoke, and finally, a bright, blinding, white light.

"This is it. This is the death of me. I've always read about the white light. Goodbye world, you were always so cruel to me, kicking me down when I was already so low. Take me God. Far away from this place of misery and broken dreams."

She prayed, while waiting for the surreal lifting of her body and the angels.

"Who's there? Who awoke me?"

Called a high pitched, but undoubtedly male voice. Stephanie was confused, the white light had vanished and the smoke was thinning, before her stood the hazy image of a man dressed in robes. He looked whole, yet not there, like a ghost.

"Wh-who are you?"
Stephanie asked, frightened of the intruder.

"I am a genie, young one. You have awoken me from my lamp, and as your prisoner, I am to grant you but 2 wishes."

"A genie?! B-but you don't exist! No! Am I going crazy? What is this!?" Stephanie cried, backing away from the ghost and bumping into a table, knocking glass statuettes onto the floor, each shattering one by one.


A sharp voice called, then came the sound of thundering down the hallway. Stephanie panicked, was this really a genie? Or was she dead and imagining this? She realised there was only one way to find out:

"Genie, I wish for you to take me away from here. NOW."

4: Mother Knows What's Best.

"That was one great ball"

Fiona gloated as she made her way through the main doors of the mansion, throwing her coat and bag onto Stephanie's skinny arms. She had heavy bags below her eyes and a slouch in her walk, Stephanie was envious, Fiona probably had an amazing time.

"And did you hear? The prince is apparently looking for maidens. Whoever fits their foot into a certain slipper will be claimed as his bride."

Fiona laughed at Stephanie's hopeful expression, and rolled her eyes at her stupidity. How could a maid ever think she could win over the heart of someone royal? It was unheard of.

Fiona and Stephanie looked up, hearing the gates open. They looked at each other and for a moment, shared the same excitement.

"It must be the prince! How do I look?!"
She asked, panicking.

Fiona smoothed down her hair and checked her face in the mirror, her tired eyes had woken up and looked glassy and bright. Stephanie motioned to open it and welcome the guests in, but Fiona stopped her

"Don't even think about it,"
she hissed, grabbing Stephanie's straight black hair and pulling it back.

Fiona pulled the large door open and as she suspected, the Prince was standing outside, his perfection still evident in the moonlight, beside him was his adviser, a tall, skinny man who told him how to make his every move.

"Your majesty! I have heard the news! Please, come in and present the shoe!" said Fiona as she ushered them both in and shut the doors behind them.

The Prince's adviser withdrew a glass slipper, it was cut intricately and sparkled throughout the room as the light from the chandeliers struck it. It was the most bizarre shoe Fiona and Stephanie had ever seen, and it was unbelievably tiny, one step looked like enough to break it into a thousand pieces.

"Are you kidding me? Who's foot is supposed to fit in that?!"
Fiona yelled, outraged.

Victoria heard the commotion and walked into the main hall. Her bright skin and violet eyes looked luminous in the dark hall, even sleep-deprived, she was as flawless as ever. She spotted the Prince and rushed to his side,

"Your majesty! How lovely it is to see you!" She smiled, kissing his hands. "Ah, the slipper, I see. You have come to the right home... Please, wait a moment while I speak with my daughter?" She asked, curtsying before him.

Victoria took Fiona to the next room by the hand, as they entered she turned around and slapped the girl stone cold on the face, who fell to the ground clutching her cheek,


Victoria screamed, yanking a fist of her daughter's hair,

"But mummy!" she whispered, black tears fell onto her cheeks and ran down her face, streaking it, "didn't you see the shoe? It was so small! My foot can't fit in that!"

Victoria released Fiona from her grip, and silenced herself for a few minutes. She had a faraway look in her eyes, as if composing a plan. She stood still for several minutes, simply thinking.

When she finally awoke from her trance, she looked at Fiona lovingly, and stroked her brown curls,

"Well, then we will have to cut off your foot. Won't we?"

Wednesday, 4 March 2009

3: Blame Chooses it's Victims.

It had been several years since the adoption of Stephanie White, and in those years, many questions had been brought up. One of them was why Victoria had decided to adopt Stephanie when she already had a real daughter by the name of Fiona. Stephanie was made the only servant of the mansion, forced to spend each day polishing each fragile item, wash every car and dish and carpet, and scrub the floor of every room in the enormous premise. All except for one, which was locked and forbidden to everyone except for Victoria. Nobody knew what went on in that room, and if anything but Victoria went in, it never came out.

It was early afternoon one day and Stephanie was on her hands and knees getting stains out of carpets, stains that Fiona had deliberately spilt. She loved to see Stephanie hurt, probably because Victoria was as cruel to her as she was to Stephanie, and Fiona needed to take her frustration out on the a "low-life" servant.


Victoria screamed from down the hall. Stephanie braced herself, her jaw was still purple from when Victoria had thrown a glass ornament at her face and Stephanie was trying her best to avoid any more abuse. Victoria slamed her way into the room, screaming,

"Stephanie what have you done to my corset? Look at this!"

throwing the black garment onto the floor, it looked as if it had been set alight and then stamped upon. Stephanie noticed Fiona giggling behind her mother, of course.

"Mother, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't going to cut this, Stephanie. I'm going to a ball tonight, and I expect this corset to be fixed by then. Or else."

"I will fix it by then, I promise, I promise!"

Was all that she could say to stop Victoria's rage. She knew she didn't do it, but she also knew that if she confronted Fiona, more than just her jaw would be swollen and bruised. She attempted to tell Victoria about Fiona once before. But she ended up taking it back and taking even more blame, hoping Victoria would stop pounding her fists upon Stephanie's bloody body.

2: Taking What isn't Yours isn't Always a Crime.

Caretaker ran as fast as her chubby legs could take her to the front porch, desperate to catch the commotion before it had ended, but a voice had called for her from the courtyard.

"Hello? Is anybody here?"

Caretaker wiped her hands on her grimy apron, squeezed through the door, and noticed the guest. It was the lady from the long limousine out front.

"How may I help you" Caretaker asked, as gracefully as she could, in hopes of impressing the woman.

"What a foolish question. Is this not where one comes to adopt a child?" she snapped.

Caretaker blushed a bright red, she hated being told what to do or that she was wrong and normally she would put up a fight, but this lady had some kind of charm over her, and Caretaker remained silent.

"Look at me," she continued, "My name is Victoria Joadson, you have probably heard of me. I have more riches than I could ever need, and my beauty is certainly heavenly. I have everything my heart desires, except for a daughter. Wouldn't you be as kind enough to bless me with one?"

Caretaker curtsied for Victoria, and called for the children.

"ORPHANS!" She hollered.

Stephanie walked down the staircase, she had been in The Orphanage all her life and was sick of the rejection it offered. She stood beside a little boy who had snot running down his upper lip and waited for the lady to take her pick then leave with the lucky child who would probably not be her. She always used to be turned down because of her past, but when she grew old enough to be called a young lady, it was because of a different reason: nobody wants to adopt a pretty girl who could simply get herself into all kinds of trouble, or run away and marry her lover. But on this day, she couldn't let go of that little droplet of hope as the guest eyed and rejected one child after another.

Victoria looked across the courtyard, and caught Stephanie's eye. The hairs on the back of Stephanie's neck rose as Victoria widened her eyes and bared her teeth, producing what looked like a hungry, sick smile. Stephanie turned away and looked at the pebblestone ground, secretly hoping the guest would be interested in her. The closest thing she had to a mother was Caretaker, who treated her cat with more love than the orphans. Victoria walked towards Stephanie, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"My, you're quite a pretty one."

"No, miss, I'm not! You, however.. You're the prettiest woman I've ever seen.." Stephanie blushed, ashamed of her awkward reply. Victoria laughed like chiming bells, even the sounds she made were beautiful. She looked at Stephanie in a longing way, and said

"You are adorable and I've wanted a child for so long... I think that maybe you.. you are the right match for me.. and I would love for you to be my daughter."
A surprised Stephanie threw her arms around Victoria, hugging the breath out of her and promising to be the best child she could be, but as she made her claims, she caught a look of pure hatred in Victoria's eyes.
Several questions made their way into her mouth, but not wanting to ruin the moment.

She said nothing.

Tuesday, 3 March 2009

1: All Roads Lead to Rome.

In the middle of a faraway, lazy county, there is a dark, little village. And in that village, there is a certain street. Misaligned houses and grey trees run along it like crooked teeth in the mouth of a soulless monster. In the middle of that street, there is an Orphanage; built after the home of the grandest family in the area, Joadson Manor, burned to the ground in a wicked fire. Members of the local community had mixed emotions about the Orphanage, they believed that it would bring trouble and reckless children to their neighbourhood, who would bring along change in their lives.

The sun was absent, as always, on the day Stephanie White decided to sit outside her home, The Orphanage. It was a peculiar decision to make because she rarely bathed in the dense pollution of her town, and had she not had the unusual urge to watch the crows and grey trees, her life probably would not have taken a drastic turn.

It started when she was admiring the different shades of grey her street had to offer. Nothing new ever happened in the area, everyone lived by their nonchalent lifestyles. But on this day, people were looking out their windows, and waiting on the roadside, looking up and down the road as if expecting something exciting.
And there it was.

A long, raven-black limousine cruised down the road, tinted windows rolled up, and a silver grill which had obviously been recently polished.
"That's not something you see everyday! I'd better go call Caretaker and show her, she loves a good story to tell." said Stephanie to herself, as she ran inside the house.

The rest of the neighbourhood stood at their front lawns, or with their noses pressed against their windows, eyeing the luxurious car and anticipating someone famous to get out of it. A white-gloved driver stepped out of the front seat and walked around to the back door, preparing it open for whoever was inside. Out slid a long, white leg. And then another. Then from behind the door, a painfully beautiful woman emerged, clad in a long, black dress, her porcelain white skin looked even brighter, her long, black hair blended in with the dress, it looked like a slick, black waterfall of ink crshing onto the ground. She eyed the crowd with her violet eyes, and a smug, red smile crept onto her face.
"Welcome home, Miss Joadson" an old lady called out.

Monday, 2 March 2009

Oh, little Red Riding Hood, where have you gone tonight?

A smoky moon hangs in the midnight sky as the thick fog sweeps through the forest, a little golden-curled girl runs through the wood, desperately trying to catch her cat before she gets lost in the darkness. She stops for a moment, her brown eyes trying to uncover the figures looming behind the trees, her breath rushing out of control. "No need to be afraid, Helena." she tells herself, imagining her mothers voice in her head. Nothing to be scared of, except for the vicious beasts which roam the forest at night. She stops for a moment and tries to catch her breath, it comes slowly. She watches the shadows around her, nothing but trees, she assures herself, they are just trees, harmless. She continues walking on at a leisurely pace, trying to ignore the eeriness of the midnight wood. The little girl stops abruptly, and hugs her red coat around her, where is Leo? She wonders. She continues on, quickening her steps. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and panic glimmers in her eyes, she can't deny what she heard: The soft growling of a hungry wolf. She had been warned about those so many times, but she never actually thought anything could happen to her. She breaks out into a run, calling for her missing brother, sprinting over the dead leaves on the forest floor, lunging through trees which cling onto her clothes and rip through the cloth, sharp branches which reach out to her arms and face and tear her skin, causing crimson droplets of blood to run down her cheeks. The growling is unavoidable to her ears as the wolf gets closer.

And for a few seconds, the entire forest is filled with the shrill scream of a little girl in a red coat and the manic feed of a wild wolf.

Then silence.

Sunday, 1 March 2009

Hail the Words of Wisdom.

Imperfection is beauty. Madness is genius.
And its better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.

-Marilyn Monroe