I Miss..

I miss hearing characters' voices in my head, the countless insomniac nights in which I'd be trying to quiet a story plot over the other. I miss the excitement I get when a new scene forms in my mind which jolts me off my place to write it down.

Those days were amazing, I get so hooked up on my stories that I feel the presence of my characters, feel the need to be their voice and have words written on the blank ms sheet. It was incredible, the amount of time I spent in writing so much and deleting most of the lines only to add more of them later. I miss reading my stories as if for the first time, I try to put myself in the reader's shoes and find faults in everything.. It usually works, though most of the time, I end up feeling exhausted and I'd stop writing for a while. But the urge to end a story kicks in just in the right time, or not, in some cases. Above all, I miss the feeling that I get when all's done that I could have done better than this. Way better. Then I end up publishing it anyways.

Hiatus Lane [4]

Hiatus Lane ~ Chapter Four
By Kitten

Ali

The phone was ringing alright. And I was absolutely sure who it was. She must have given him the number.

'Ali' Deema shouted. She was drawing in her room, with her door standing ajar. She always left it that way. I guess she had to because Nouf and I do not get along often.

'Yes?'

'Pick up the phone, will you?'

'I'm busy'

'Damn it!' She fumed and got up, causing the chair to knock down on the floor abruptly.

Storming into the living room, I slowly glanced from on top of my PSP to see her. She was a mess, really. Her hair worn in a messy-kind-of-way pony tail, her eyes tired. I was laying on my back on the sofa and the phone's stand was right across. I could have picked up the phone but I didn’t.

Fares

‘This better be good’ I heard her say. She might not have been aware that she voiced her thought out loud. I kept quiet, regretting my childish behaviour. And then a voice from far away that must have been Nouf’s said ‘swearing box’ which Deema responded to by saying ‘gosh, sorry, get a penny from my wallet’.

‘um..hi?’ I said, interrupting the mini talk.

‘Yes, who’s this?’

The moment she heard my name there was a hesitant pause.

‘How’s everything going on?’

‘Good, alright’ she said softly.

‘I thought of escorting Ali and Nouf to the zoo, what do you think?’

‘The zoo’, she repeated.

‘yeah, I thought they ought to attend the opening tonight’.

‘Thoughtful of you, but…’ and Nouf’s thrilled voice stopped her mid-sentence. ‘I want to go to the zoo! Please, Deema, pretty please!’

‘It’s settled then. Meet you guys at 7?’

‘Okay’ and she hung up.

Ali

The moment she held the phone tight next to her left ear and spoke to him, her mind had wandered a million miles. When Nouf asked if she could go, she’d agreed. Even though I was dieing on the inside to head to the zoo, Fares was, in fact, the last person I wanted to be escorted with.

****

Hiatus Lane [3]

Hiatus Lane ~ Chapter Three
By Kitten

Fares

The landlord was a nightmare. What if I forgot (okay, intentionally postponed the date of) handing in the money? Would he lose a dime? He would, technically, but god! He had the whole building for himself. But then again, I wouldn't have rushed through packing 2 years of my life if I weren't forced to.

I had moved into the Pearl hotel luxury when mom sent a reasonable amount of money –god bless her- for the fear of her only son being thrown out to live on the streets. She wouldn't do that under normal circumstances, but what about me that can fall under the normal category, I ask you?

To that day, I was still thinking of Deema's little family. My gut feeling told me she was on a vacation with her siblings for a reason. You don't just get on a plane for the heck of it.

The lobby was muffled with hushed noises, people making deals, others texting and like the majority, I was enjoying the view outside while sipping my latte. I have always favoured these few free-of-work minutes that I made sure to asset some every once in a while.

Outside, there was a teen-aged girl sitting on the bench, checking her wristwatch every 3 minutes. She must be dating someone, I was sure. Then, not far away, I saw the same dude with the dog. Now these two are an art alone. I don't even know why the dog-dude bothers anymore.

Nouf

Ali's been acting weird ever since Deema met the very tall man whose name I couldn't remember. He would ask Deema about him, where's he's from or what he exactly wanted. But I didn't care about him; all I cared about was enrolling in the ballet course. The ad I saw made me go crazy and I quickly ripped it off the wall and shoved it right under my sister's nose. I knew she would get furious because she was working on this particular painting for two days in a row.

'Nouf' she said, using the kind of voice that meant get-away or this-isn't-the-right-time.

'Before you say anything, please read it' I squeaked.

Saying 'Hmm' was good so I waited till she skimmed it and agreed. For it being too good to be true, I had to rush into Ali's room and announce my victory once again.

He said 'Okay' lightly and asked me to shut the door behind me while getting myself out of our room.

Fares

The phone was ringing but I took it as if they're out or they're busy and cancelled the call. I thought of calling again but decided not to. What would she say if she knew I'd been miss-calling the apartment's phone twice?

Hiatus Lane [1]

A/N: As promised, here's the new story that I've been working on lately.

Chapter One

'Deema!' Please ask him to stop!'

Nouf''s pleas of help reached to her oldest sister Deema who wanted some change of scene: instead of having her paintings filled with green-ish materials, she went for blue ones thus she chose to come to the side of the hotel that had a huge swimming pool and the whole accessory of a beach. The sun-kissed sands lay around here and there and the umbrella-shaded benches made it all the more convincing.

'Your sister is calling' He said, the tone of sarcasm filling his voice. Deema looked curiously at the man who was now sitting next to her. He had a muscular complexion, but not the same muscular type you'd see on wrestlers, a pale skin with a slight hint of a tan spread across his face and the most gorgeous emerald-green eyes she’d ever seen.

Fares

Deema, as her sister called, took a moment to reply back, 'Yeah, Ali is a natural teaser, he'd never stop splashing water on Nouf, and it's actually becoming a habit'. I laughed genuinely and reached my hands across and said, 'I'm Fares and you're probably Deema', she grinned and asked, 'Fares, as in..Are you an Arab?'

I wasn't particularly astonished that she'd ask this. People have always mistaken me for several nationalities that were far than mine. 'Yeah'.

'Where are you from?' she asked and quickly added, 'or let me hear your Arabic'.

'Hmm, okay, shu bedii oul?' I said and she immediately said,'Lebanese'.

'You're good. Now it's your turn'.

'Eish tabeeni agool?' she said with a gulf accent.

'Kuwait'

'No'

'KSA'

'No'

'Before I could make a total idiot out of myself, you're from the gulf, right?' I said.
'Of course, keep guessing'.

'Bahrain, Qatar…'

'No to all of those'.

'OMAN!' I almost shouted.

'Yes. I thought you'd never mention it'.

'My bad. I've never heard an Omani accent so..'

'Well' she started saying, and at that moment, her brother and sister approached. She took out two towels from a backpack and handed them over.

'Hey guys', I said, shaking hands with both of them, 'I'm Fares. Do you swim in here often?' I asked.

'I'm Ali', he said and his young sister said, 'we live in that hotel' she pointed at the same hotel I've been living in for the past three days.

'Well, that, happens to be where I am living as well' I replied back and caught a glimpse of Deema offering me a gentle smile.

'So…' Deema said to break the silence, 'how about you guys race each other to the flat and get dressed while I gather around my things?'

'Okay' both Nouf and Ali said in unison as they ran off, their towels wrapped around their bodies.

'Hmm..' I muttered while Deema started stuffing in her belongings inside the brown backpack. There were painting materials everywhere, from brushes to hefty artistic drawing papers.

'I noticed you were drawing something before I came in and interrupted you', I said.

'It was nothing', she shrugged.

'Can I see it?' I inquired.

She handed me the drawing that if someone was to look at it, he'd defiantly mistake it for a photograph. The scene ahead was captured intensely, with every detail standing out perfectly.

The only words I could master were 'Wow'.

'Really?' she asked.

'I'm amazed, Deema, you're very talented but I'm sure you know that'.

*

Neoteric Glance [Finale]

Neoteric Glance ~ Finale
By Kitten

A/N: The final part! Yes. Too soon? I understand and because I do, I chose to end it right now. Another idea of a story jumped into my mind two nights ago and I just knew I had to finish this one or the latter would vanish and this would clash with my thoughts for the upcoming one. I tried as hard as I can to lengthen the story but luck wasn't on my side during the process so why would it hit me now? Without further ado, you may proceed to find out what happens...

Ryan

I wanted to stand there, in case if she felt like coming out but I didn't know what to tell her exactly because, I decided, I was the stupidest man alive, a total failure, which is no surprise, at all. Even though I couldn't have known, I regret acting foolishly and admitting about what bothered me, I only knew later that I should have kept it to myself.

I hurt her beyond measure and I took full responsibility for that but I couldn't allow that scene to be the one that would end our relation. I wanted to be there for her no matter what, even if it were outside the borders of the school. At least, of that, I was sure.

Giving her time, I fought the urge to call Sarah for two long nights in which I spent in and out of sleep, reluctantly. Only on Sunday did I build up the courage to pick up my cell.

'Hello Kate. Can you send me Sarah's address?'

~*~

Nearly two minutes passed till I heard light footsteps on the other side. 'I'm coming', Sarah said.

She opened the door and was surprised to see me, of all people, standing there. 'Hey', I said immediately. It didn't take long for her to whisper back, 'Ryan. Hi'.

I then asked a simple question 'How are you doing?'

'Fine', was the word that pierced my ear the most as I knew for a fact that she wasn't.

'Sarah', I wanted to cut right to the chase and say it, 'I'm so sorry for your loss, I wouldn't have said a thing if I knew'.

'I am too', she said, in a distanced-voice that wasn't hers.

Then she gestured for me to come in. I walked inside her house knowing that there were people who lived here but no longer did. People whom were so dear to Sarah that she might have taken a long time to get over them and I brought their memories back, ignorantly.

The living room had a nicely decorated shelf containing over two hundred books, I assumed. The bookshelf was so wide that it covered the entire right side of the room and gave it a rectangular outline.

She followed my gaze and said, almost soundlessly, 'They used to be my Dad's'. At that, I couldn't breathe.

'They passed away in an accident', she whispered and I didn't bring myself to look at her face, her used-to-be cheery face that I forever distressed.

'Oh, Sarah', I exhaled heavily and went up to her this time. Sitting next to her made me realize how pale her face had become since the last day I saw her. She kept staring at her hands while speaking, 'A young driver hit their car. My Dad was driving and Mia and Lizzie were playing rock, paper or scissors at the back seat'. She smiled halfheartedly and continued, 'They all died at once'.

'Sorry', I choked out the only words I can say even if it wouldn't make any difference. Without thinking, I opened my arms and she fell right into them. She hugged me back so tight that I nearly gasped for air.

'They left me all alone', she sobbed, tears flowing right into my white shirt. 'Shhh', I wanted her to shake off this idea, 'if they had the choice, they wouldn't. No one would. I know I wouldn't ever leave you'.

We sat there for several minutes, Sarah crying and I, well, trying my best to sooth away her pain. Suddenly, she backed away from me and eyed my now-ruined shirt. 'I'm sure you didn't come here so that I could ruin your shirt', she said and reached her arms for some Kleenex. She wiped away her tears with trembling hands. 'If you ever felt like talking to someone', I started saying, 'then know that I'm here'.

When she nodded, I held both her hands between mine and said, 'Sarah, I know this isn't the time but, when I first met you, I knew you were different and that's when I became a different man. I had insomniac nights in which I began thinking of what I would do about my feelings, the ones that I have for you. My parents divorce forever changed me, made me sulk in a whole other world where its population was one person; me. And you, well, you amended that. Watching you every day with the kids made me get in touch with my little siblings that I haven't heard of in weeks and overall, enjoy the little things I had'. I felt like I said all of that in one breath. What the heck, I thought and finally said it, 'I like you, Sarah, very much, and I even think I'm falling in love with you'.

She seemed to digest all of this. God! This is way too much for one night, she must be thinking.

'Ryan' she said my name with a special tone that made me adore her every time she uttered it. 'I think I do too'. She smiled right this time because it reached to her eyes. 'Your arrogance and stubbornness makes you unique', she said and I felt my heart pounding hastily.

'Is that a good or a bad thing?' I asked, grinning.

*****

This may sound bossing around but, I would like you to give me honest comments on how to improve my writing. That being said, I also tried to get into the male character here (Ryan); Let me know if I did. And special thanks goes to Squinty, Naba and Rummy.

Neoteric Glance [4]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Four
By Kitten

A/N: I know it's been a week but what can I do? Ramadhan is growing on me and I'm determined to a5tim the Quran this time, inshallah. Other than that, Ryan & Sarah keep fading in and out of my mind during the whole time so I wrote this one small chapter.

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Ryan

Waking up on the next morning, I wasn’t so shocked about having dreamed of her, blazing under the sunlight, her hair waving behind her like sun rays spreading across the ocean.

I took a long, steamy shower in the hopes of washing everything away. By the time I reached the main center, there she was, looking as beautiful as ever. I watched Sarah tuck her hair behind her ears while being deeply engrossed in whatever she was reading. When I interrupted her, I felt like a thief, stealing the peacefulness that surrounded her completely.

Sarah

I was reading a trivial book, one that has all the useless information normal people wouldn’t want to read and was fascinated by the cool facts about animals.

“Dolphins evolved from land animals. The land ancestors of dolphins lived about 50 million years ago and looked a little like a wolf”.

When a silhouette formed above my head, blocking the light, I raised my head and saw Ryan eying me as if I was from a different planet.

Ryan

'Hi there', I said to catch her attention because she only noticed me when I got too near. She replied back and after shutting the book, she stood up and off we went.

Sarah

The day passed by in a blink of an eye and before departing, Ryan shocked me by asking about my phone number. My face might have given the information away which is why he quickly explained ‘In case, you know…Kate had another emergency and would like you to take some of her classes. I just thought you might want to know before-hand’. He was considerate and I liked that. After handing him my number, both of us went to separate ways.

Ryan

Another smooth day has passed, I wanted to say at the end of our final day together but I couldn't. When I walked in to class earlier, I was amazed yet again. Sarah gave her students a 10 minutes recess in which she had them play hide-and-seek. I saw her pretending that she couldn't see James, the little guy whose hiding place was under the table. At long last, she surprised the boy by saying 'boo!' and at that, the bell rang.

Furious for god-only-knows-why, I hurried outside, without escorting Sarah this time because she had learned the place by heart already. Reaching the main building, I stopped there to sign on the board and searched through my pocket for my keys.

'Where did you go?', she said out of the blue and instead of responding, I found my keys and started walking away with a quicker pace and when I couldn't ignore her anymore, I turned around and said, 'Okay, I give up', raising both hands in defeat. She gave me a puzzled look and I resumed, 'I don't know how you do it…' I trailed off. Her eyes just kept watching me in silence like I was some sort of lunatic, speaking gibberish. 'You come out here, all happy around kids, for every single damn day, not to mention, doing all of this for nothing when I- - I…’ stammering on my words, I finally confessed, 'when I can't even stand my own little siblings'.

The twinkle in her eyes cut across my heart as sharp as a knife as that tear escaped from her chocolate-brown eyes and rolled down her left cheek. That drop of salty water alone froze me in place and did all the talking and even if she didn't say it out loud, I was sure as hell that I understood.

After what seemed like a decade, Sarah said flatly 'Mine died'.

I wanted to jump off my place and hug her, with the promise of protecting her or comforting her, I didn't know which one is which, because for the first time, it felt as if she had all the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders.

Fighting back tears, Sarah ran to the ladies room.

And I couldn't have hated myself more than I did back then.

****

Neoteric Glance [3]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Three
By Kitten

A/N: Since part 2 was extremely short, here’s a long one. Also, a comment about the character Mohammed in Shattered Hope said that he wasn't manly enough, so I figured to get more in character in Neoteric Glance, hence Ryan get to speak most of the time. Let me know if I'm doing a good job at it or not.

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Ryan

8:15. I wanted to be late by 15 minutes so that I could meet Sarah based on her own timings. We were supposed to meet up at the main center, at the waiting hall but she wasn’t there. For five minutes, I kept wishing if I had slept off till the day after, since I stayed up all night yesterday, watching WWE Monday Night Raw.

Jeanne walked past me smiling and said, ‘Good morning, Ryan. I see you are alone’, this was her usual joke the moment she seems me without the company of a teacher. ‘Guilty as charged’ I shrugged and nodded.

Seating myself on one of the empty chairs, I grabbed today’s paper and went through the headlines. Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, I rested my face in the hems of my palm and sighed heavily.

‘Hey, sleepy-head’, it only took me a second to figure out it was Sarah’s soft voice. Raising my head, I was dazzled by her mini red dress. I have always hated bold colours, but on her, it looked…right.

‘Hey’, I surprised myself by smiling and trotting off, closely followed by Sarah. ‘You are late, you know’, I said without facing her.

‘C’mon, I have been here since 7:30 in the morning’, she replied.

Leaving this aside, I thought we could stop on our way and grab a bite at the cafeteria. Before knowing it, we were there when Sarah said she had hers already.

Since she was supposed to stick around with me at all times, I bought a waffle for her, even though she insisted on being full, she ate it afterward. We did not speak much on the table, although I noticed that I was not as tensed as I was with her yesterday. She’s just a natural, I assumed, at making everybody at ease around her or at least, me, in particular.

At 8:45, we were heading to the kindergarten’s section when Ms. Kate abruptly stopped us and asked me to let Sarah fill in her place for the day as she had an emergency back at home. I wondered what the hell was it this time?

I knew Kate for three years now, and she is the kind of person who would do anything to stay in here. Which was weird, if you ask me, because a lot of teachers have confided me in about how hard teaching can be and that I should be grateful for having an awesome thing to do everyday instead. What is so good in repeating the same thing billion of times, but with different people?

Knowing me, I only do this for the cash. If I did not, my landlord would have kicked me out ages ago and I would have to suck up at Dad’s for money every time a new music album came out.

After pointing out the class she’s supposed to be teaching I said, ‘Hello kids, this is your new substitute teacher, Ms. Sarah’, then I seated myself at the back like Sarah did yesterday.

‘Thank you, Ryan’, she whispered as she lifted up her black purse, took out flash cards with the alphabets printed on them and soon, started asking this one and that to pronounce them out loud, though mostly, they struggled in differentiating between d and b, n and m. Later on, she had them write those over and over again.

Here and there, she would crack a joke or two, sing a song and watch them all struggle upon catching the lyrics. It was funny, I should admit. And Sarah, well, she was a different person right then and there.

Sarah

Today’s highlights would have been getting all attached to Ms. Kate’s class that I secretly wished if she’d have some kind of emergency everyday. I know it makes me selfish, but hopefully, nothing bad happens to her or her children. If only it was urgent enough to be allowed to teach the class again tomorrow and, the day after that…

Ryan

On the way back to my flat, I kept thinking of Sarah. I have seen many good-looking, if not attractive, women before but they weren’t Sarah… In the back of my mind, flashes of her smile faded in and out while I am not even brave enough to actually admit them to myself, in the first place.

Ever since my parents’ divorce five years ago, I have been afraid of committing to anyone. I sort of pushed the idea of getting involved completely away as I obviously feared ending up just like Mom and Dad.

I am twenty-five now and my thoughts are filled with Sarah to the point that I forced myself asleep the moment the clock struck 9 PM because, I figured, if I get to shut down my brain, I will be fresh tomorrow and Sarah will be gone as fast and she came in and took control of my remaining senses…

***

Click here to view part One, Two & Three

Neoteric Glance [2]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter Two
By Kitten

A/N: Based on the feedback I got (Okay, two of them but they're highly appreciated people) I decided to post the next part, which isn't as long as the first one.

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Sarah

Day one was a success, I would say but I am not so sure my new instructor would agree. Ryan was his name and I do not know for how long I have been in love with his name and if someone was to ask, I would say I haven’t got a single idea why. While spending a few hours together today, I noticed that Ryan had a lingering irritation, the one that is not hard to figure out no matter what.

Apart from his attitude, the kids were amazingly cheerful and adorable hence I cannot wait to get back tomorrow. After leaving Ryan to himself at the end of day, I decided to take Ms. Kate aside so that I could be filled in with the day’s schedule, all the while, she repeatedly pressed on drawing a smile on my face all day long, because, she said, ‘teachers are supposed to’. ‘This’, I told her, ‘you wouldn’t have to worry about’ as I am always happy around children, and who wouldn’t be, if I may ask?

Kate

Ever since I was given the honour of teaching here, in the North Creek institution, I haven’t heard anything of volunteer work. So this Sarah girl comes up with something new and generally, to be honest, I hate new-bies. My friend Jeanne thinks I’m being paranoid but I do have the right to be ‘the one’, not just anyone, and this will probably happen if someone, like Sarah today, fills in my place. Just saying.

**
Click here to view part One, Two & Three

Neoteric Glance [1]

Neoteric Glance ~ Chapter One
By Kitten

A/N: I came back from China

on Tuesday and I've been meaning to blog about the trip but I haven't finished uploading the pictures so that might take a while. But then I hated the idea of abandoning this place that yesterday, at around 2 AM, I picked out my notebook and searched for a story I've started writing sometimes back but haven't finished. I'd started scratching this line and adding that, in the hopes of publishing a polished piece of writing to you. Enjoy and let me hear your thoughts.

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Ryan

She’s late. Why I am not surprised?

I checked my watch and realized that I have wasted 15 minutes of my time waiting for this new teacher, or as they call her, a volunteer. And for the life of me, I cannot seem to understand how can someone, in his right mind, willingly volunteer for babysitting children. Or maybe, she had lots of free time and is desperate for a job that she would try to delude these co-workers of mine into believing she is capable of pulling this thing off so easily. As if.

‘Hi’ a woman approached me. ‘Are you the instructor? Hmm...’ she has forgotten my name. Perfect.

‘Ryan..?’ I guessed.

‘Yeah’, she answered.

‘I am your instructor, Ryan. Remember the name or you will get lost around here someday’ I hope, I muttered under my breath and I didn’t care if she heard me because she seemed busy, registering the shapes of the similar buildings nearby.

‘If you will come with me’ I gestured to the right direction, ‘we will be done with this in no time’.

She turned around and considered me for a second and said, ‘I am the one who is supposed to be grumpy. It is not your first day here, is it?’

‘No’, I replied back, ‘less chatting and more touring, okay?’ When she didn’t say a thing, I added, ‘Come on,’ and walked off to lead the way.

It is going to be a very long day, I assured myself.

It took us merely two minutes to reach the second building which had the kids’ classes. We walked in silence till I broke it and explained the locations of all classrooms. She just nodded without further questions and I thanked god for that.

On the second floor, one of the classroom’s doors stood ajar that I pointed out as the kindergartens'. Without a word, she walked over to the class, introduced herself and began asking weird questions like, ‘what are your hobbies?’ and ‘do you enjoy drawing?’ I stared, gaping over her behaviour. Why did she care about their favourite colour and whatnot?

When I came forward, I noticed them responding back. She had made friends already, I guessed because they all gathered around her, forming a round circle, asking and answering questions. She, unlike me, seemed to be enjoying herself and laughing for the first time since I met her a while ago.

A teacher came in her class and was shocked to see an intruder. Sarah introduced herself again rather briefly, took permission and seated herself at the far end of the class. I wanted to get in but I was kind of relived to have a few minutes break so I quickly hit the cafeteria and ordered a snack. When the bell rang announcing the end of the lesson, I climbed the stairs in a hurry and stepped in my track the moment I saw students hugging Sarah and asking her if she would come back tomorrow. A bright colour of red rose on her cheeks as she said goodbye to her little friends. Spotting me over their little heads, she came forward and looked at me, waiting for my next sentence. I blinked repeatedly and said, ‘what was THAT all about?’ almost screaming.

‘What?’ she asked, innocently.

I wanted to yell at her for abandoning me because it’s my duty to have done so, yet, the stupid and innocent face she had on made it all the more impossible for me to even resume staring. ‘Nothing’, I fumed. ‘Where are we going next?’ she inquired almost immediately. ‘Over here’, I led the way again, past the main center to the third building on the left. ‘This the building of the older group of students’’, I repeated what I usually said, ‘aged 12 to 17’.

She nodded and we entered. The atmosphere here was a bit serious than the latter. It was quiet and I could sense the surprised look on Sarah’s face. I laughed and said, ‘They are supposed to be studying’. She didn’t seem to get the joke yet she smiled politely, showing the same dimpled, perfect smile of hers.

Her silence, I have to admit, was irksome for she wasn’t like the other teachers I have encountered before. They had asked about when the school day would come to an end, where are the meeting-halls, ladies’ room or if they would get to meet up with me a second time and they would flirt a little when asking, but all of this…doesn’t seem to interest Sarah in any way possible. Based on what I observed, she had this habit of staring at every corner, like she is contemplating mysterious beauty, which I found quiet fascinating.

‘Ryan,’ she interrupted my thoughts, ‘what are we doing here?’

‘Huh?’, I asked.

‘I mean, why aren’t we touring around the place?’

‘Uh-oh, I guess we have done that part already’. I shrugged.

‘Oh, then, what are YOU doing here?’ she asked again.

‘I do not know,’ I said ‘maybe I am your instructor and I am not supposed to leave you till you get the place, and that’s hmm, let see…a week from now?’

*

Click here to view part One, Two & Three

First Published Story

...on Oman Observer.

(Yes, I had to hide my face)

You can read the whole story here.

Other than this, I realize the fact that I haven't updated this place in weeks, but as I'm busy with revision for IGCSE's and...life, the possibility of updating is zilch. Although, I could be spotted at Twitter sometimes.

It's April already..I should seriously make the most of it before it's too late and so do you.

Isolated Soul

Total darkness is all I’m seeing.

I walk my way through the absolute sea of black…I try to make out the shapes that is appearing out of no where. They are not clear. A blur of white colour blinds me…and mixes the scene with blackness…or is it gray? I cannot tell.

A whoosh of noises…

I trace my palm on the wall on my right side; it’s the only solid thing I can touch and feel….where am I?

My left arm is stretched…reaching for something that is not there…

And suddenly, I am in the middle of a room with a low ceiling. An old dusty room, I observe later. My palm is still resting on the wall, clenching it so tight because I am afraid it might disappear just like my feelings.

I stare and turn around myself a couple of times, like a dumb cat trying to catch its own tail…

The room is black. Its sofa and table and books are all black in colour with a slight shade of grey on them…this place is very old.

Without realizing why, I start running towards the door, to the way out; the exit. I swing the door open and I am on the roof of a high tower. I am about hundreds of meters off the ground.

Is this a trick?

Every corner is covered with webs…some pieces of broken glass and wood are lying here and there too.

What is this place?

Laughter; a wicked one shrills down my spine and ears and everything go back to a blur and black all over again.

I let out a wild scream and there is no way I can stay quiet anymore.

I deserve to have some piece of mind,
If not all the time, than at least once in a while,
I grew up into this world,
With no fears and no sins,
I was innocent as a bird,
Free and determined

Why can’t I just go back in time?
I would choose where I stand,
And with whom to be,
I would take my choices wisely
With such care and thought
As if was a matter of live or die

While I am here, I cannot comprehend,
The meaning of free will,
Everything is planned and I am,
Waiting anxiously, still,

Suffocation fills my lungs,
As though my world is full with smoke
Because of it I can’t breath
Or have my own clean space

Don’t I deserve to have a painting of my own?
One that I would frame and hold,
Or some beautiful flowers,
Which I would watch over,
And take good care.

Don’t I deserve to be human?
Am I not a human being?
Or am I just another isolated soul?

+ An attempt of trying to write poetry even though it didn't turn out to be one. Nonetheless, I wrote this when I was in an utterly crappy mood.

Shattered Hope [Finale]

Something so important that he could not text it…

Curiosity crept its way through me, making the wait unbearable. I never wished for anything so badly as much as I wished for owning some sort of magical ability of reading minds at these pregnant seconds.

'Hello' his deep voice echoed through my ears when I picked up the phone immediately after the first ring. It showed how desperate I am and I could not care less about it.

'Hey, what is it?' a yet clear demonstration of my anxiety though there are other thoughts that raced their way to my mind, taking control of all my senses.

'I…' He could not hide his hesitation either, and the doubts I had moments ago became crystal clear in front of me. 'I want you to be honest with me…do you really remember me from school?'

'Yes, I do' I answered, blindly.

'I know it was ages ago, as I also know that this might sound ridiculous but I do not give a damn…' he said it so fast that it sounded as though he was struggling for air, 'is there anything you want to tell me?'

'What!' I could not form the words or take control of anything that my mouth uttered, 'I mean, no, you said you had something to say', even though I was clearly stalling and lying, I hoped I was not that transparent and at the same time I reminded myself of how bad of a liar I was.

'Maria,' he breathed into the phone, sounding frustrated and I hated it. 'I know what I said…But, you did not answer my question yet' I could predict how his face might have looked like; eyebrows ceased, looking more curious than hopeless.

I sighed heavily, leaving him hanging in there and said after few seconds, 'yes, and it is not of highly importance than what you are going to say'.

He weighed his chances then said, 'I doubt it. Go on, I'm listening'.

'Just say it'.

'Okay,' he made up his mind and I was stupid enough to continue the conversation. 'You know back at school, I had a crush on you,'

Mohammed had a crush on me! ME!

'And... 'He wanted to finish, but I saved him only to realize that I've pushed myself into further troubles, 'I did too'.

Why, Maria, why!

My mouth acted before my brain, 'We were teenagers back then, Mohammed'.

'Ha-ha' he let out a nervous laughter and I joined him, and for a couple of seconds, it was just me and him on our own, laughing at our haunting past.

'When I first met you,' Mohammed said and my brain stopped functioning, 'Those feelings' he was finding the right words, 'sort of…came back'.

The world suddenly dissolved, containing me within it. Salty water streamed down my eyes and it was then that I knew I was crying. I walked to my room and hid beneath the duvet, not caring whether he was waiting for a reply or not.

I was speechless.

'Maria,' he said, and I opened my eyes and ears ready to hear what he had to say because I did not have what it took to reply.

'Aren't you going to say anything?' I had kept him waiting for one solid minute but what do I have to say?

'Listen', he continued, 'I don't expect you to have the same feelings. Just say something'.

'No, you listen to me!' I sobbed. It was the first time in my entire life to cry in the presence of someone other than my own self.

'You cannot just come up and say that!'

Why am I being so defensive?

'What we had before was nothing, and that was when you thought I was nothing'. I sobbed even harder, 'Were you even aware of my existence?'

'Please…' he pleaded, 'do not cry'.

'You cannot tell me what I am supposed to do' I snapped back.

'I'm not supposed to, yes, but I cannot bear the fact that you are crying because of me. I am not worthy of you....' he trailed on.

'I had a crush on you for four years', I said out of the blue, 'I do not expect you to know that'.

'I did too, Maria, I really did,' He confessed, 'but you had made sure that none knew any means of contacting you. How did you expect me to get to know you?'

He wanted to say something. I could not wait any more, 'Yes…' I urged him.

'And…' he said finally, 'and now that I did, I want us to start over'

'Mohammed, we were teenagers and I do not think that that was anything. It was just a crush' I said, wiping away my tears and sounding serious.

'You said it. I do not know about you, but there were some feelings left for me, and when I saw you again, I fell in love with you'.

This is not fantasy, wake up: He loves you.

'I love you, Maria', he finished, and my head spun around.

'Please tell me what I want to hear,' He pleaded again, 'Please…'

'Stop' I said it to the world, to myself, and to Mohammed, because I wanted things to be right when I said this, 'I have always loved you'.

'But,' I was not done yet, 'There are no second chances in love. Thanks for everything, Mohammed'

Click!

And that was the last time I ever talked to him again.

[Shattered Hope: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4]

---------------------------------------------

A/N: A friend of mine was surprised that I had actually included some sort of romance in a story, as she thinks that I don't 'believe' in this kind of things.

To make it clear for all of you, as every other piece of writings I've written, a dream inspired me to write this one too. The characters were all there and their emotions were portrayed, which made it rather easier for me to scribble them down and add a bit of my own take on it.

Thanks to everyone who followed Maria's story, and as you have read, she did not believe in second chances in love just as I don't like happy endings.

P.S I had lots of fun writing it; insisting on staying at my cousin's place because that's where ideas hit me, waking up at 2 AM to note the first few lines of every chapter, finding the right black-and-white pictures, not to mention, the constant excitement of wanting to know what would happen at the end, because Mohammed did seem to be a nice guy, don't you girls agree?

Shattered Hope [3]

Two more months and that is all, I kept telling myself.

Exams drew nearer and I could not spend as much time as I used to around Mohammed and his sister. My apartment was a mess so I spent nearly the entire days at the library, researching or studying.

Even though it was hard to, I had to deny lots of other invitations from Rania’s part and it reached to a point where I had to switch off my phone and then come up with fake excuses for it. I wanted to get it over with so I could get back to my family, and pay full attention towards them, but studying for exams took all my time.


On rare occasions, I would spend some time at the coffee shop as a treat. I would stay there and think of nothing else than how I came to be and what they must be thinking of me; to appear out of the blue and then disappear!

I promised myself to make it up for them so on Friday evening, after having done a double share of studying; I called up Rania and asked her if we could go to the movies together, plus Mohammed. She was all over the place about my idea and a couple of hours later, we were on our way to the theatre.

‘Look who’s here!’ Mohammed said when we first met after weeks. He had a wide grin on his face that made the butterflies in my stomach go crazy.

'Hey' I replied shyly.

'Ready to go?' Rania asked, interrupting our conversation.

We ended up watching a comedy movie, and I really needed to have some laughs. For dinner, Mohammed had an early reservation at a restaurant. The food was delicious as Rania and I ordered what Mohammed recommended us.

Before any of us knew it, the perfect night ended and we had to say goodbye.

Next morning, I stopped at the closest coffee shop as per usual and for a moment, I was positively sure that my mind was playing tricks on me again.

He had just entered.

I thought of hiding, disappearing into thin air, or simply walking out before he notices me but it was too late –

'Morning sunshine' he said to me, and sat right across my table, talking on his phone. I nodded, smiling.

What should I do, oh what should I do?
He seemed busy. I should go. It's either now or never! The inner voice kept repeating the same thing over and over again.

Even though, the real voice, that is mine, was insisting on staying. I mean how bad can I be in a verbal conversation? And it's not like we're sharing the same table. Besides, I'll just finish my coffee… and read a few pages of my novel…

'Am I allowed to share your table?' He asked.

I'm dead.

'No', he was taken aback, 'After consideration, I'll have to say yes you may' I finished.

STOP flirting!

'Thanks, your majesty', he mouthed the words and we sat in silence till the waitress took his order.

'So, how are you feeling this morning?'

'I'm alright, what have you been up to lately?'

'I've been on a break so it's all about hanging out with friends and stuff'.

'Cool…'

'Listen…' he took the coffee and stood up, 'I have to be somewhere else. This guy wants me to pick him up' addressing the phone he had on his other hand. 'Talk to you later?'

'Yeah…' I said.

'Laters' he grinned and waved goodbye.

Phew, that went well.

At the end of the day, I dropped down on the sofa and started reading, but the SMS made it impossible for me to finish the page.

- Good evening :) What r u doing?

- Hey, I just started reading a book.

- Good. There's something I wanted 2 talk 2 u about.

- Go ahead.

- No, I can't say it here. Can I call u?

- Sure.

What's going on his mind? I desperately wanted to know.

[Shattered Hope: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4]

Shattered Hope [2]

7:30. it’s time.

Purple always looked good on me, I assured myself.
I wore a purple empire-waist top with black jeans, and then eyed my reflection. Should I add accessories?

I entered the kitchen, took the chocolate cupcakes bouquet and placed it on a plate, trying to make it look as homemade as possible.

On the way to the door, I ran back to my room, snatched my handbag and took a final glance at my face. I looked so damn happy.

Outside, the sky was starless, not a single spark illuminated the dark night. Walking quickly past the two buildings, I stopped to a halt on the doorway of the third one. I read his address card again,

Third floor, Apartment no. 38

After taking control of my breath and steadying my heartbeats as I chose to climb the stairs, I ringed the bell.

No answer. Maybe they have changed their minds. But why didn’t he inform me? Perhaps hating to sound rude? Though this is beyond rudeness, if you ask me...

Click. Someone removed the metal chain of the door, and it swung open, and I started feeling dizzy already.

‘Hello, you must be Maria’ the most lovely-looking women said, welcoming me in. It’s running in their genes; good looks.

‘Yes, and you’re Mohammed’s sister.’ It was more of a statement than a question, ‘Please,’ she gestured for me to take a seat, ‘Call me Rania’.

‘Rania....’ I mumbled, ‘you have a nice name.’

‘Thank you’ she positioned herself next to me, and said, ‘I’m glad you could join us tonight, I was not sure you would actually. I know how it feels like, visiting us for the first time and all’

We are surely going to be best friends, I dreamed on.

‘No, not at all’, I lied, ‘we are a family now....’ Why did it sound so cheesy?

‘Exactly,’ she nodded with a gentle smile, ‘I’ll check something out and come back, make yourself at home’.

My eyes wandered the living room, starting from its paintings to its decorations, it all looked…cozy, like home; just as she said. Where was he? I wondered for the first time. My thoughts were caught up with giving a good first impression and maintaining my cool that I did not have the time to think of him.

'Mohammed was on the phone right now,' Rania said while taking her seat again, 'he would not be able to make it tonight. He's required to stay for another discussion even though it's quiet late' she stared at her watch for a second or two as an anxious mother.

'I see…' Why today of all days? I wanted to cry out loud.

Remembering what I had in hand, I placed the plate of cupcakes on the table. She thanked me and we started organizing the table for dinner. We laughed, talked about stupid childhood memories as though we shared the same ones, like good old friends do.
One hour and a half was all it took for me to get used to Rania, her unique and wonderful personality was amusing, and she sure had a bit of her brother's sense of humor.

We hugged good-night and I went back to my apartment, not knowing whether to regret or appreciate Mohammed's absence for tonight.

By the time I reached home, disappointment washed over me.

He was supposed to be there…

I felt betrayed, and the weather was not helping so I tucked under the blanket, fighting to keep my eyes open for a reason I did not know.

Toot...toot...toot...toot...

A far away voice yet it felt near pulled me out of my dream and blurred my vision until I heard it perfectly clear.

TOOT TOOT!

It was my phone. I fought my way to it and snatched it open. The message was from Mohammed…who's Mohammed? Oh, YES!

Through my obscured vision, I read:

Sorry 4 the disturbance, but I wanted 2 apologize. I couldn't skip the discussion lesson.

It was 9:45 and I must have dozed off for a good 30 minutes.

- Don't worry. Rania and I had a great time together.

- Sounds promising, she feels the same way too. I know it might sound weird but did I scare u off with this whole invitation thing from the 1st time?

- I thought it was nice of you to do so, really.

- I'm glad u think so :) one more thing, did I wake up u or something? What was I thinking, texting this late, anyways? =/

I thought of lying, but I could not.

- Well actually, you did, but I need to thank you for doing so, I had plans for something else.

- Haha. Sorry again. What kind of plans if u don't mind me asking?

- Watching TV..I think I should seriously work on switching it more often.

- U r not a TV person...hmm. Have fun.

- Yeah, good night.

- Night :)

Watching TV, for god's sake?! What's wrong with me?

I did watch TV eventually because I could not sleep that night and the weirdest idea came to my mind: I should tell him, and as scared as I was from confronting him, I forced myself to sleep at last.

Days passed by consecutively in a frightening pattern. I could not build up the courage to say what my mind tells me to. Mohammed and I became good friends after that night, we'd text each other every single day and sometimes he would call to recommend a good movie and we would watch it together, commenting on the silliest details through text messages.

It was easy that way, I told myself.

God only knows what I might say to end up embarrassing myself because I cannot be myself with him around. My anxiety and nervousness grew by the day and I decided to let the confrontation idea pass.

We are good now. There is absolutely no need to bring it up.

Rania and I hanged out as much as best friends do, or as close sisters do. We did our shopping together; went to the movies, or just whenever we felt like going out and having a girls'-only time. She worked nearby my University so we met twice a day, not to mention the constant chit-chatting on the phone.

She was the sister I never had.

[Shattered Hope: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4]

Shattered Hope [1]

I ran my fingers across the titles of the same shelf again, making sure that I have not missed the book I was looking for…

'Aha!' I whispered, finally relieved.

'Ahem' someone cleared his throat, a man as I expected came forward, and I looked him directly into the eye; the honey-coloured eyes and the complexion of his face were oddly familiar. Suddenly, my mind threw upon me old flashes of school days memories.

I knew this man –

'Maria, right?'

How many times have I imagined him saying it before?

'Yes' I smiled back, flashing a friendly smile and nodding more to myself than anyone else, both for my forgetfulness and foolishness.

How could I forget him of all people?

'We were at the same school back in Oman....' and he added hastily, 'Remember me?'

How could I not, for crying out loud?

I stayed there, eyes unfocused, awestruck, trying to regain balance of my body which seemed effortless just a while back. I thought I was seeing things or daydreaming perhaps, because this is not and cannot be real –

'I am –'

'Mohammed' we said together.

'Yes, I do remember you' realizing the fact that my dreams cannot be so good and handsome; I spared him another moment of elaboration.

'Good, how have you been then? Or should I say what brings you here?' he asked, grinning.

He still has some sense of humor left…

'I study here, what about you?' I hoped my voice sounded as cool and calm as I intended it to be.

'The same reason' he replied.

The moment I dreaded the most had to come sooner or later. Awkward silence filled the gap between us, changing the atmosphere horribly. I had to break the ice and ask the question I have always wanted to ask,

'What are you studying?' I asked and he replied almost immediately as though he had seen it coming, 'Urban planning and Architectural design.'

'I see. I am studying Linguistics and Journalism even though I planned for English Lit. Oh well, you know how it is.'

No he do not. He probably had what he wanted, now shut the hell up. The guy have not asked you to retell the story of your life –

'You know what,' his deep voice interrupted my inner conversations, sounding excited as he said it, 'we should meet up some time, my sister included. I'm sure she would be thrilled to meet an Omani women, she has been so lonely lately'.

'Here....' he handed me a card with his full name, address and phone number on it.

He lives next door!

'Oh, we're neighbours!' I exclaimed out loud.

'You don't say! Where do you live?' He sounded as happy as I am for this fact, or was I imagining it?

'Just down the street, 3 buildings from the library,' I said, trying to sound casual.

'We live at the 6th building' Mohammed said as a matter of a fact, 'How come we never met each other before?' He sounded surprised at this.

I was asking myself the same question too.

I checked my watch, it was past 12 already, how time flew away, I did not know.

'I got to run, I should hand my essay in less than an hour time', regretting what I said I then added, 'it was nice meeting you'.

'Sure, good luck,' I knew that was not all and when I walked away he called back 'keep in touch, Maria'. No worries, I murmured under my breath.

Hands shaking, I went to my usual table and gathered around my files and stuffed in my laptop.

There is no way in hell I can type anything after this.

A cool breeze passed by while I stepped out of the library, walked towards my apartment, and then I saw him, and at that moment, my eyes were glistening with the ghost of my past.

After having second thoughts about texting him, I finally had the courage to do it tonight after exactly a week from that day. Hands trembling more than before, I picked up my phone and typed:

Hi... too casual. Delete.
How are you? Delete.

Hey, it's Maria. Just wanted to say hello and this is my number.

I hit the Send button before I could change my mind. My SMS sounded so anxious, like I was waiting for him to text me back. Though I was sure he had forgotten all about me after the day we met it self.

It was Friday evening; tea time. I sat on the living room's sofa and switched on the TV. Absentmindedly, I kept changing the channels and thinking of something else; something beyond both reality and dream; Him.

After all these years, here I am, thinking of him. Who knew that I would get the chance to see him again? I knew I did not. But, the thing is that I had –

My phone vibrations stopped my track of thoughts. I jumped off and flipped it open, with my heart beating so fast it might burst out of my chest, and the message read,

I though u might have tossed the card away :P But, hey, I'm glad u didn't bcoz I told my sister all about u & she has been bugging me about inviting u over 4 an Omani meal. What do u say?

I re-read the text three times, doubting it was real every time I did. I cannot say no to you, Mohammed.

I wanted to be as brief as possible in all my messages so I replied with:

- An Omani meal? That sounds tempting. I shall be there.

- Great! Saturday night is fine with u?

- Yes, thanks.

- Don't say that again. U r welcomed anytime, Maria :)

Oh god! What have I got myself into? There was a part of me that wanted to see him again, and the other contradicts it completely for significant reasons.

The reckless, dominant part usually overpowers the rational and sane one; this is how it always was with me.


[Shattered Hope: Part 2 & Part 3]

First Grade

In my memory of 1st grade, I am very excited on the first day of school, and I am wearing my light-blue uniform with the white t-shirt for the first time. I insist on getting my hair done by mom, and not the maid, to look extra special.

My Entrance
We enter the huge school together (my mother, little brother and I) My mom talks to the kindergarten teacher and admits my brother in. ‘Where are you going?’ my brother asks with terrified looks, and I decide that I would never forget how he looked like. ‘I will get your sister in her class and get back to you. Go on now’. The teacher gives my brother a wide smile, the same one she gave hundreds of children before him.

We climb the long staircase to the next floor, where my classroom is. I am older than my brother, and this mere fact must explain why we are separated by different floors. My mother stands in front of me while she talks with the teacher. I am on the last step of the staircase and a while later, I find myself half falling backwards as I hold on to mom’s Abaya, she pulls me back. The rush of adrenaline excites me more then ever, making me forget what might have happened.

I get into my class and sit on the seat. My mother peeks in and says goodbye. I do not cry, I think we are not supposed to cry in class so I hold back my tears.

Downstairs, my mom passes by my brother’s opened-door classroom. He runs towards her as if she was gone for ages. He says ‘I do not want to go back’, and he never did after that day.

Weird Little Girl
On one of the lunch breaks, I walk by students playing football on the field and before I know it, a bomb slaps my face so hard that I do not have the time to absorb what the hell just happened. I give the guys their ball back, and they give me curious looks in return. ‘Why isn’t she crying?’ they must be thinking, but I do not cry then either.

One day, a maid comes out of my friend’s house and shakes her head, an indication that he is not coming to the bus. Little did I know what she meant was he is not coming back ever again. He is dead, and you do not see dead people anymore. On that same day, one of the teachers announces the death of our little friend. He asks us to recite the fatihah so I do as I am told without realizing why.

Extra Role
Through the year, I was having an extra role besides being a student. I was a social helper of B; A girl with physical disabilities, and the teachers appointed me to take care of her. I do not know how it all started but I have been feeding, carrying, taking care of her, writing both her class work and homework and other sorts of things you expect from a paid social helper to do, except that I did not get paid.

During the classes, the teachers used to call me if B needed to go to the toilet. I would help her walk, open the toilet door for her, seat her and clean her. I used to do all of this when I was only 7. When I finish my class work, I would do B’s. Whenever B needs to get out of the class, I would follow her, as a lifeless shadow.

At the end of the day, I would carry two bags; B’s and mine. Children often made fun of B’s bag as it was Pepsi’s brand so they used to push me down the stairs, and calling me all sorts of names. I did not respond because I knew I had another mission to accomplish next; Walk B to her bus then head to my own. I would make sure she is safely seated on the bus seat and place her bag on her lap, then run as fast as I could to where my bus is. Scolding fits from the responsible teacher of the bus was a routine I had to get used to along with the others.

Except The Unexpected
On the few, last remaining days of first grade, I told my parents about my second job as a social worker. Dad was in rage and Mom asked me why I have kept this down for so long. I could not bring myself to answer the question I have never known. Dad asked me to simply say no when a teacher asks me to escort B anywhere.

I made up my mind and did exactly what I was told but perhaps I was too young to expect a response.

‘Why not?’ the teacher asked me the other day for the first time, I repeated what my Dad told me to thinking it was ought to end the discussion ‘Because my Dad said so’. My teacher hesitated for a while as she registered what I just said. She too, did not expect this particular response from me. I was her loyal student, she must have thought. After seconds of building up a way to say it nicely, she said ‘do not you want to go to heaven?’ Why is she asking me a stupid question now of all times? What has this got to do with what we are talking about now? I thought. ‘Yes...’ I said, blindly. ‘Then you should help others’ she was right, for all I know. ‘You are right, but my Dad said don’t...’ My Dad has not asked me to say anything other than this, so I just repeated it again, stupidly. She, eventually, called a teacher to escort B out. My teacher was taken aback by what I said, and the mere thought saddened me.

Lightening Strikes
The bell rang announcing the end of the day. I ditched B that day, but my conscious won over me, so I stood somewhere beside the staircase to make sure if B is fine. What I saw next struck me like a lightening and it all happened so fast, as if you’re forwarding a movie just to know what would happen to the lead actress, except this was reality.

B couldn’t help but slip over and roll down the staircase till she hit the floor with a loud thud, with her bag caught in between her legs. She was a mess, and the look on her face was as if she were holding for dear life. I did not know what to do next so I ran to save my own life as well. It was the end of first grade, and as weird as it has started, it ended.

Confrontation?
6 years later, I was shoe-shopping with mom and that’s when I saw B for the first time after that horrible accident. She was walking perfectly fine, with the help of her sister. She did not recognize me, but I did, for sure. She has not changed much, although she grew taller.

I wanted to say hello, then thought better not to. What would I have told her, anyway? Remember the girl who made you roll down the staircase on first grade? The girl who caused you injuries just because she got fed up of walking, carrying, and taking care of you, and the fact that this girl was the same age as you were and it was you who ruined first grade’s memory for her? No, I could not say this, when in fact, I kept quiet for so long and eventually wanted things to change. Things were fine before that day, to B, of course. She was safe for a whole year, and someday, based on an irrational choice, she did not know what hit her.

Over the years, the guilt of what I have done haunted me. It made me know what the word regret really means. For years, I thought I had done the right thing at the wrong time, but now, things have changed and I think of it the other way around. I should have helped her till the end. It’s not her fault that she has physical disabilities, and it sure wasn’t mine either. However, it was my fault to have left her alone that day. I can’t imagine how badly injured she was when all I did was watch and run, afraid of my own safety.

I was a selfish little first grader.

Her Fairytale [3]

Am I really that bored to have posted 3 posts in 3 days? Hell, yes. Since I’m very techno-challenged, it took me almost ages to figure out how to edit the template’s HTML in order to change/delete the already existing pages.

Thanks to Deluxe templates, I have this Natural Gloom look even though it doesn’t exactly fit my blog, for some odd reason. (Don’t tell me otherwise). Also, I added the About Me page.

Another thing I’ve been ignoring for a while now is my draft chapters [For the story, Her Fairytale] which I posted earlier. (Chapters: 1, 2, 3) I got stuck at chapter 3 as it just got boring, literally. That or I simply lost interest in it. Here’s the whole-updated chapter.

Chapter 3

Her thoughts went back to when she was a kid of 9, when she looked up on him and admired his achievements. Watching him working used to amuse her. Every word he used to utter were words of wisdom according to Linda, and she made sure to follow his footsteps; become an important person in the society without having to lose your ethics and values, most importantly, not to forget those who love you. Looking back at these pleasant memories, Linda dreaded her haunting past.

Two hours passed by, while Linda’s smiling and grinning on her dad’s silly jokes and comments made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t want to believe everything would be the same, because she knows for a fact that it won’t.

At exactly 3:00 PM, she wondered if she could stop the loud tick...tocks of the gigantic clock on the living room’s wall. It was so loud that for a second, Linda could have sworn she’d just heard her own heartbeats.

She’d always thought that after graduation, her life would get settled. As by then, she would have gotten into a scholarship and left her family’s problems behind. But things never went well while she was at school either. She needed an inspiration, a motive to aim for the best, and unfortunately, there was none available at the time. Now, she has to take care of her siblings, and her own mom to being with. The thing about the whole divorce situation Linda wasn’t so sure about was the reaction of her mom. Will she be able to handle it, alone? Will she ever return to her old self again? Will her family ever be that same one like it used to be once upon a time? Linda couldn’t bring herself to answer the questions which kept her insomniac for long nights. No matter how hard she tried, she was perfectly aware of her soon-to-come failure.

All day long, Linda tried getting herself busy, both physically and mentally, afraid of the thoughts that’ll make their way through her mind again.

Now, I know that my promise was a very long chapter, but what can I say? I’m a lazyass, and excuse me for that. Oh, and I called the story Her Fairytale. Thanks for those who voted and others who wasted their time on reading and commenting.