I wonder. If I have been a braver, tougher little girl and not a quiet, wet-blanket drop of sugar in the corner, maybe, I was a better, person. Strong. Tough. Demanding. And very much mature.
I wonder. If I faced all those girls torturing me with their existence with fierceness, would I be less afraid. Would I be less sensitive. Would I grow thorns and scales like they did, and would I hurt someone whose soul is identically like mine; afraid, bruised and eager to run away?
I wonder. If my mom was less in-control of everything, if I had the freedom to choose my way, if I have seen my options of who I am to become without the chains of restraints; perhaps I am more than just a normal face in the crowd. I’d be soaking in my own career and busy growing up and growing rich.
I wonder. If I did not choose the kind, geeky, invisible friends I had since high school, would I find the real meaning of friendship? Will I be able to enjoy anything other than the quiet moments and the snickering behind a Pea-brained teacher who’s actually a genius? Will I find a spot somewhere in the girly, popular club instead of the gloomier art club I am in? I already have the answer.
More than twenty school buses stopped right at the Masa City Gate, where universities from the whole country have sent representatives under their National Service curriculum to volunteer and help. It was the first time something like this happened; a great storm whirled over Masa and lashed over it like a pint of soil gulped by wind and water. Being situated along the shoreline, the tides rose as strong winds held hands with the tumultuous drops of rain. Masa was devoured by the storm Havoc, which wrecked the entire city with rage, killing almost a third of its inhabitants and wiping virtually everything from the ground.
Matt’s university was among those who called for volunteers, and despite not being in the National Service class, he chose to go. At first, he wanted to be away from home. That’s because he never considered that house his home anyway, so he was somehow homeless. Besides, he’s been longing for freedom. But what he got here was something else.
He basked under the clear blue sky as he went out of the bus along with more than sixty students who came with him. Nathan volunteered with him as well, but that was for three different reasons. First, the Government will provide a certificate of appreciation for the volunteers. That would make him look cool. Second, this will help him raise his grades. And third, girls.
“We’ll be meeting a lot of them,” the blonde head snickers, putting his hands over Matt’s dark long hair. “We can sneak into different camps and get us a girlfriend, hey, Matt?” (Continue Reading…)
It was the first time he loved. The first time his heart throbbed with so much pain of desire to sit beside someone and stay there for the longest time. He never knew this feeling. He never understood what love is. His last memories of the word was seven years ago. The kind eyes of his father. The warm hands of his mother.
It was the first time, for the longest time, that he loved. And he loved her with so much passion, with so much intensity, that every single moment without her seems like an eternity. He wanted to see her. He wanted to see her brown hair, her snaggletooth smile, her pug nose. She was beautiful. She was all he wanted, right now.
Right now feels like forever.
His heart burned inside him, and he could feel the smoke coming out from his nose. He waited on his seat just like before, but not seeing her shadow across him makes him feel uncomfortable. Where is she? What’s taking her so long? Did something happen?
Bloanslitte might have cursed under his breath a thousand times.
I’m sorry, I changed
Like the waters in the sea
Spewing sand in every movement
Taking stones whenever I flee
Waves rising, crushing bones
Kissing the sky, embracing thorns
It’s a movement with no direction
It’s a melody with a thousand notes