My Love

I waited for him. For so many years, I had dreamed about the perfect man and in a matter of seconds I knew that it was him. The second I saw him it was perfect. His jokes. His smile. Everything. Perfect. Completely compatible. Completely happy. My dear, when our eyes met my life changed and I can’t thank you enough for the love you fill me with.
We met in university and his perfect image never shattered through those years because he truly was perfect. I never thought I could love anyone more. I didn’t expect it to be reciprocated. Perfect.
We officially were bounded together in the summer under the sun, the perfect temperature on the best day. I wore ivory and looked beautiful. He had such a careful expression when he saw me and everyone’s eyes were on me. We said our vows and he even let out tear. Our names were put on the bottom of the paper and it was done.
And for many years I did believe everything was perfect. I loved him. He loved me, I was sure. Everyday since I met him there was never a bad day. Everything was perfect, just as I let myself believe. I couldn’t think otherwise. I never argued with him or fell out, I did everything to please him and achieve my perfection. But somehow on any other day it didn’t feel perfect. It felt gloomy. I refused to believe this omen and was determined that when I got him I would continue to be the perfect wife. That’s what we both wanted.
I went home and couldn’t believe my eyes. I saw him there laying in bed naked with another girl on top of him. They were still making noise and she kept screaming his name. They didn’t notice I was there. It was the most humiliating thing ever. They were so loud. So I let out the biggest bloodcurling scream which would be sure to leave him limp. Or even notice me. Both of them looked at me. There heads snapped back and there I stood in my tracks still screaming. The moisture going down my face I believed to be tears when I touched them they were crimson red. It was blood. My blood. He and the unidentified woman tried to make themselves as decent as possible. He put on his boxers and gave her his shirt. She stood there with fear in her eyes wearing his shirt. He tried talking to me but I couldn’t hear. My ears were ringing. Was I still screaming? My throat hurt. His lips were moving. Did he mention divorce or love. He tried moving me but I can’t let him touch me with hands that touched her. I grabbed the vase with flowers he bought and smashed it over his head. He fell to the floor. Now my hands had his blood too. I could see our crimson red mixing together. The girl ran over to his body. “Don’t touch him bitch,” I said while licking my finger tips. I felt a bit better while she screamed. “Please if you love him then call for help, just let him live.” I laughed as if I was watching a comedy movie. I laughed as she begged and then picked up a shard from the vase to cut that disgusting face of hers. She didn’t scream anymore and her eyes were still. More steadily she said, “do what you want but make sure he lives.” After that, it become boring. She was too composed. And with that it was all a blur.
When I came to. There were flashing lights. Blank. A man in a suit shouting. At me. Blank. A woman in a white coat. Blank. Red pills. White pills. Blank. I still saw his smiling face. Did he visit? These were dreams. I’m sure he saw me when I was blank. I wasn’t me. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Too many blanks too much darkness. I’m confused. I curled in a ball. Seeing the pictures of his face. Then her. The woman. I looked up and saw an old lady staring back at me. She had silver hair which looks like it hadn’t been washed or brushed in years. It was long and covering her face. She wore simple white clothes. Her pale wrinkly face, with her puffed up eyes and sour face. She looked like a horrible lady. I threw something at her and she shattered. She was gone. I lay on the floor.

The next day a newspaper article was published. It was entitled “The Long Life of a Strange Lady”. It told the story of a deranged woman. She started off as a normal young lady. Attended school, very educated, very capable. Until she met a man. Let’s call him Val. Val had never seen this woman before but he caught her looking at him and just seeing her in more places. At first he thought nothing of it but she told everyone that they were dating and she would leave notes and gifts for him. She described herself as being very much in love. Val never spoke to this woman and was already very much in love with his current girlfriend. This put a rather large strain on their relationship. He would avoid this woman even going as far as moving when he believed she was following him. But when he moved into a quiet neighbourhood with his girlfriend who was now his wife, the other woman followed him. He filed a restraining order and began to be a little scared of her. One evening while he and his wife were performing their “marital duties”. She intruded into their house and began to scream and started to hit herself, making herself draw blood. She then proceeded to hit Val over the head where he experienced blunt drama to head. The woman cut his wife and stabbed her in the stomach. The wife was 2 months pregnant. With Val on the floor and the wife bleeding, the woman laid next to Val with her arms entwined in his and that’s how the police found her. Unconscious. Val suffered from a severe concussion and his brain also had psychological problems. He dealt with unbearable headaches until his death. He forgot about that night but would often remember parts of that night in flashes which further strained his mind. Even though he may not have completely remembered about the events that transpired on that night, his wife did not. She was close to dying. Beaten bloody to the point of death. She spent 4 months in a coma and not only lost her child but also lost all feeling on the left side of her body. The pain she felt was unbearable, facing it to be almost alone. This is when she convinced her husband who was already in an unstable state to aid her in the taking her life.
Exactly one year after his wifes death, val he fell to his demise when he jumped of a bridge. Which can only be assumed to be suicide.

The lady who started of this chain of tragedies has died 40 years after his death. She was been put in a psychiatric ward. Not had one visitor or even made any friends. Her funeral, set up by the ward itself out of formality, had the nurses who looked over her attend. They pitied her and felt sorry for her, they knew what she did was wrong. But when everyone they see have done terrible things not even by their own will and still have visitors. She had no family and was by herself until she met him and all they could do was pity her because she was alone. and as the casket closed on her pale lifeless face there were no tears shed. Where everyone saw a lady that drove two people to death by a voice that was not her own. She was a woman to be so desperately lonely still craving her first love.

Chapter Two

Read chapter one. And enjoy 😛

Whilst in the campsite, he had tears streaming down his face, calling for his late wife as he writhed in agony. He heard footsteps approach him. “Kid, aren’t you meant to be going for a walk?”
A large silhouette walked toward him belonging to man, with an impressive build and short hair. “Sorry I am no kid.” The brother sat unfazed but shifted toward his belongings and clutched something from his bag. “then who might you be little boy?”
“I’m not little.” Even though the muscular man was much larger and clearly stronger, there was no doubt that he was younger. 
“Okay boy. My name is Eli.” The tone was used clearly to belittle him.
“Old man Eli.” As Eli leaned in for a handshake, the man lunged at him. Eli used the larger man’s weight against him as he pushed him to the floor causing a tremendous crash. The knife that he clutched moments before was against the intruders neck. “You’re still a kid.”
The intruders eyes did not change as he continued his hostile glare. “So, little boy, whats your name?”
After a moment of silence, he hesitantly replied, “Zed”.
“Thats an interesting name”
He let go of him. “You’re not going to kill me?”
“No, it will be too easy.”
“Don’t screw with me.”
“You can either leave or fetch me dinner.”
“You really don’t think I’ll try to kill you?”
“You might but, right now, it will be too predictable and you don’t come off as a guy who is easy to predict. Kind of like a loose cannon.”
Zed didn’t know how to respond, only shuffled in his spot. “This is the end of the world. Eat or be eaten.”
“Ah, yes. The apparent war. I highly doubt it even existed. Let alone has gone on for this many years.”
“Are you some kind of fool? How can you say there’s no war. The world’s population has plummeted, people are being killed or becoming killers. Look around you this is a time of wat.”
“There’s a difference between war and genocide, boy. We have all suffered but you can’t remain in ignorance. Educate yourself.”
“Then if this genocide, surely there must be a reason for it.”
“Well, you were born while this was ongoing but before, as a race, we were pretty shit. There were too many people with too many different opinions. This caused conflicts. And the higher ups didn’t like that.”
“Who are these these higher ups?”
“People with money and with money derives power with a sense of entitlement. They were born into position of power. They wanted to rule and only wanted more power.”
“This system sounds corrupt.”
“You got it perfectly. If you want to cut a short story down. Then think of this as a very extreme survival of the fittest.”
“But the people who survive are broken. They aren’t advancing. The people left are either completely dominated by fear or strike fear into others. Some people kill for fun not even in the name of anything. How is this evolution?”
“The higher ups being the ignorant people they are thought that our race was better than that. They thought we weren’t like animals but when the time came to it we went back to our primal instincts mixed with a thirst of power.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed saying things like that.”
“A noble death for a man like me.”
Zed examined him. The friendly attitude, weaker stature combined with proud atmosphere. “A man like you can’t possibly be travelling alone.”
“Ah, sharp and a smart mouth. Those would be the things that kill you.”
“I’m not going to die.”
“A man that thinks he’s a god. This is priceless.” Eli laughed. He looked at the younger man’s face and realised it wasn’t a joke.
“How can you kill what’s already dead?”
Eli knew that the Zed’s heart was still beating and the certainty in his voice shook Eli. This was the first time that this strange man was sincere.



There once was a time of utter turmoil in the world. The earth was in distress making the idea of living absolutely menacing. Everywhere and everything was war torn.
Those people left behind- Those who did not die in battle, or in poverty, or by the hands of mercenaries-  roamed the land to look for a way to survive. They lived off scraps. They lived alone in their sadness. To be left alive was luck but to live was not lucky. They watched their families die before their very eyes. They saw the devolution of humankind and the death of humanity. They had no solace. They survived for the sake of simply not dying. There were still many people who chose to die by their own hand when the darkness became too much. These people were envied for they had escaped, no pity was wasted on them. 
The battle of the land was over but the war never ended. In this desolate place, the remaining life is often forgotten and the dead live on by their mourners.
However, there may still be life. Over the dull sand and under the blistering heat stood two young adults looking for survival.


All alone
I’m all alone.
All alone

The room, the dingy, small room stretched out before me. There was no way out. There was nothing to do.

So I did what any rational person would do.
I curled up into a ball and cried.
I cried for I don’t know how long.
I cried until there was nothing left.

When I stopped, when I was physically unable to cry any more. I got up. I could feel my hair static, tears dried on my face. I looked horrible.
Yet I still put my self in front of the mirror. My eyes wide, with several dark rings like someone had punched me- I wish it were that simple. My hollowed out face, too skinny to be alive. But why am I still walking? Even though every single step hurts, it hurts even more than the last.

I will show you how beautiful you are. A memory

I turned away from the mirror. I couldn’t handle it. From my sickly grey skin to my empty sad eyes. I was staring at a stranger.
But the person I once was is a distant memory.
So where did that leave me? Who was I?

You are beautiful.

I would I have walked away but before I could the walls were closing in around me. They were coming closer, and I was helpless. All I could do was stand there and wait for the pain to stop.

I woke up to what felt like weeks later. Still feeling groggy and looked around hoping it was all a dream. No it was all the bitter reality.
Something was different I wasn’t alone. There was someone with me.
In the shadows they were simply a figure, only when they stood up out of the shadows did I realise who it was.

She hadn’t changed. Her hair, her face, her height. All except her expression, cold and hard.
I was glad when she had not changed now there may be hope and I haven’t missed out on anything.


Her face remained stern.
And we remained silent for a long while.
She didn’t move, or talk and it seemed like she didn’t even breath.
“How are you?”
This question annoyed her. For a brief second her face softened, to something familiar, something human.

“How do you think I am? You left me. Is that the answer you want. What kind of mum does that to her child?”

“I’m sorry”. Was all I said, what else could I say?

“For all those years you missed, of missed performances, assemblies, exams. You’re sorry”.

The tension could be cut with a knife and I did the worst thing, I stayed silent.

“No”, she laughed cynically. “You’re not sorry, that’s beyond your capability. You have no human emotion, your not honest or sincere,or happy or even sad.”

I stayed quiet because I knew it was true. I looked back to a time when I showed one emotion toward her. But I couldn’t find one
So she went on.

“You always wanted me out of the house, was I such a terrible person that my mother couldn’t even stand to be around me.
I wasn’t good enough so you signed me up for everything extracurricular possible.
Even after all that, you left me.
The saddest part was you were all I had.
You wouldn’t even let me have friends around, you wanted me to be as lonely as you.
Well congratulations you got your wish. I’m 27 and still am single. I’m just as inhuman as you.”

Then I saw her, I really saw her. A lady, beautiful even with her hair in her face, in frumpy clothes.
Then I remembered how shy she was.

I will show you how beautiful you are.

Then my world crumbled down.
The walls collapsed.

Then my thoughts came out.
“The reason I made you leave the house was so you would explore the world. You could see there was more beyond the world than this dirty small house.
You were good enough, but do you ever wonder if you would be this smart or athletic if I didn’t sign you up for endless classes. I bet you have a well paid job as a doctor now. I bet a million guys chase you but your too shy to realise. If not for your looks but your personality, not even I could break you out of your spirit.
You’re friends weren’t good for you, they never were.”

The worst thing was she didn’t shout back, or fight me. She hugged me, she forgave me for missing out on over twenty years of her life.

She hugged me while I sobbed.

But even with tears streaming down my face I could see from the corner of my eyes, my daughter calling the institute.

My own flesh and blood sending me back to that place.

I’m not crazy.
I’m just alone.