All those who wronged me…
All those who made me sad…
All those who made my eyes water with salt tears…
All those who disappointed me…
All those who yelled, scratched and clawed…
All those who demanded not giving anything in return…
All those who cheated…
All those who lied straight in the eyes…
All those who never apologised…
All those who escaped…
For all of them I see no place in my future, only vacant space.
Chelmet. The name was so bizarre that it could not be forgotten. The people living there were even more unforgettable and peculiar.
And to think that it all started with a flat tyre in the middle of a country road…
1. Write at least one post a day on my blog.
2. Finish writing at least five first chapters of my chic-lit novel.
3. Finish writing the outline of dystopian world novel.
4. Finish my short fairy tale story.
5. Finish developing characters for young adult supernatural novel.
6. Generally improve writing style and keep up with the deadlines.
It was a sunny day.
The golden globe was shining so brightly that it created a white halo on the otherwise pristine blue sky.
It was that kind of a day when families go to parks, couples take a romantic stroll, kids kick the ball and the town population swarms to the only water aquen in the neighbourhood – the pond.
It was a beautiful day, birds chirping, dogs barking cheerfully and kittens climbing the thick branches of the trees.
Yes, it was one of the most beautiful days of the year.
It was also the day of her funeral.
We would escort her during her last summer stroll. We would let the sun rays illuminate her one last time.
And then we would weep.
A. rarely fought in her life. She never complained, kept taking punches and misfortune as it came to her. No frown upon her face, no moaning, just full acceptance of her fate.
But then, enter A.’ love interest, and the scene is all his.
First thing, first person, first feeling she had to fight for. And fight she did. Until the very end. Until there was nothing left.
Crumbles…everywhere I mo.ve I see and feel crumbles. I hate crumbles.
He knows that very well and yet he still leaves them. Crumbles.
Did I mention that I despise any kind of crumbles? They are disgusting and annoying. Completely redundant in a clean and neat house.
So why does he insist on being a slob and leaving crumbles everywhere? This is simply beyond me. I cannot comprehend what is he thinking. Men, they certainly lack a screw or two, it’s like a completely different species from us, women.
How in the world we manage to communicate at the end of the day I have no idea, but I swear, sometimes and I mean more often than not, he makes me so angry that I feel like I’m losing my mind and going mad.
Those who had a profound influence on our lives will live forever in the monuments they build.
Those who evoked fear and obedience under the threat of torture shall forever be forgotten.
I wake up like that quite often. My dreams are vivid, full of quickly changing scenarios, moving characters and gripping plots.
Dreams or should we call them nightmares – the one’s where I wake up with tears streaming down my face. Those dreams are full of sorrow, regret and resentment.
Nightmares where I am hurt by someone close to me. Someone that in real life is my dearest friend.
That was my last dream-nightmare. I woke up sobbing and inconsolable, trying to put behind me the web-thin curtain of a bad experience, bad dream.
Luckily, both dreams and nightmares alike – I forget them easily and quickly. Real life is just a flutter way from the neverland of dreams.
1. The sun came up and its rays feel like a warm hand caresing her skin.
2. The doorbell didn’t rang today, which means that the peaceful bliss of the afternoon won’t be broken by unwanted, pestering visitors.
3. The scratchy, unnerving voice has not called for her even once today. Unheard of.
4. It’s Sunday so finally tomorrow starts the school week. No more dreary, heavy silence that hangs in every corner of the mansion.
5. She woke up today. She took a breath of air. She lives to see another day.