Taking the BlameI have no idea how it happened, nor exactly what happened. All I can tell is what I heard afterwards. The rumours, like flies, buzz around my head, and yet those who spread them round the population avoid me. I don't think that the rumours are true, the police certainly don't seem to, not that it would anyway, but I will never be able to avoid them. They will follow me forever, even once I was proven to be innocent, even once everyone knew it wasn't me.Taking the Blame
She's the girl who killed her mother. I didn't kill anybody. I didn't choose to kill anyone. It was never my fault. I didn't want her to die, my mother, beauti
The Greatest giftI’ve been alive for 16 years now. Even though my life has been short, I’m not even an adult yet, I’ve learnt many things. About me. About love. About life. This is my tale. Please. Listen, carefully. Try to learn from my mistakes. I’ve made enough of them. I fell in love at the age of 11. My boyfriend, or at that point he who I wanted to be my boyfriend, was called Max. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Gorgeous eyes. He smiled at me, and in that one smile, that one moment of true joy, I knew that I liked him. I suppose I would even go as far as to say I loved him. But in my heart, I knew I could never have him. I now know how well placed thThe Greatest gift
Full MoonI look up to the heavens. The midnight sky, a deep blue carpet rolled across above the horizon, is covered in white specks, some large, some small. The stars. They glisten, shimmering and shining, bright against the deep blue carpeted sky. An arm slips around my waist. Comforting me. I turn. Turn to face him, but he’s not there, and he never will be again. My face crumples, and turns tearstained eyes up to look at the moon. It’s full again. Just like that night… That night, 2 months ago. Moon months, that is. I was still together with him, with my boyfriend, Luke. We stood here, by the slide, on the roundabout. TogetheFull Moon
Healing TearsTears, the healing remedy to every ill. At least, that's what we're taught, what we're made to believe. If they are so good for us, why do we always feel quite so bad when they fall down our faces and make us realise that something is wrong? I don't believe we can cry for no reason, although I often find myself doing just that, sobbing meaningless tears into sodden tissues. They cannot be bad for us, or we would not be able to let them freely fall, our bodies too conditioned to protecting us to allow that to happen. Sometimes, crying is a great remedy. It's the only way I can get through some days, days when you feel like no one wants yHealing Tears
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SIGGY
"It's so totally your achilles fashion sense, darling!"
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Ako ay nababagot...nababagot
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