There were a lot of the comments I liked and in the end we can have only one winner. So congratulations to Mareene Salome Chola???
Keep leaving beautiful comments to be tagged next. Enjoy
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People often wonder what it feels like to die. Whether it hurts or its comforting, sort of like a feeling that takes over you slowly. It's a spontaneous thing–you never know when or how it's going to happen, it just does.
And so do we prepare ourselves for it? No we don't. One can never be prepared to have their loved one ripped apart from them. It's considered unfair that they leave and it's up to us to pick up the pieces.
A lot of people have had their loved ones taken from them. Google can give you many clues on what to do after death but is it really enough. The hole always remains there.
Death can be cruel but what about the death of a nobody. Is there any grief for someone who's considered as nothing, as a thorn in the flesh. That hobo on the streets, when he dies who cries for him?
When I die who will cry for me?
•••••••••••••••••••
Dear Diary,
2nd October, 2012.
Mrs. Montgomery's class has always been the most boring classes I have. She talks monotonously like a programmed robot about things that happened a long time ago. Honestly I feel like the past should be as it is. The past.
I often used her period to talk to my friends about the clothes we were going to buy or the boys who we'd hang with but today it's different. The four of them–Georgina, Lisa, Laura and Leilani strutted into the class with their head held high, leaving the rest of the class to wish they were them. To wish that they could one day be in that position they're in.
Some part of me still craves for that feeling like a second drug. Maybe it's the one thing that I'm willing to do anything for.
They decided to sit in front of the class, chatting about who knows what. Then the gossips started, the whispers that always found a way to enter into my ears. False theories already circulating that it wouldn't take time before they spread like wildfire.
I slammed my head on the desk wishing to curl up in a ball and hide somewhere I just wouldn't exist. Their glances weren't very discreet as well. Times like this makes me wish I would disappear from the face of the earth. But then, who would miss me?
Highschool can be pure hell sometimes. But at least I ruled this hell, letting that right slip away from me was slowly pulling me back to my senses.
As soon as the bell rung I slipped on my bag and left the class faster than anyone could blink. I dialed Alaric's number when I reached the parking lot trying to spot a familiar face.
"Hello..."
"Alaric it's an emergency–"
"Just kidding, you've reached my fricking voicemail. You have officially been fooled, ha! Call me later though." His annoying voice mail went through. I can't believe I fell for that.
Groaning for the umpteenth time I stashed my phone back into my bag, walking towards the other side of the school. She always hangs out here whenever she wants to spend time to herself.
As I expected she was sitting alone behind an empty canvas, paint brush in hand as she's probably trying to find inspiration. Unlike when she's normally flaunting around school, her hair is quite messy with a few strands scattered around and her skirt is already stained with acrylic.
"When are you actually going to paint something?" I dropped my bag on the ground walking up to her. She scowled at me turning to pick the paint with her brush before creating strokes on the canvas.
"What's the rush? See, that's something you'll never understand because you're always in a haste, so you don't see things." She lectures me, her whole attention is now on the work she's creating.
There was a time I too was interested in fun things like art. I enjoyed the smell of the paint, the splotches on my shirt and the feeling I got when the art is coming alive. Some could say it was one of my safe havens after my dad left.
"So what's up?"
I sighed dropping the palate I was holding. "I need to do some things, something that'll shock this school," I fisted my hands, "Many people have been crossing me without any consequences."
She smirked, "So you want to remind them of who you really are?"
I nodded even though she couldn't see me. "What's in it for me?"
I rolled my eyes, as usual she wants something in return. "I could continue to keep this a secret."
"Simone, you'll still keep this secret either way."
"Don't forget why I do it. We wouldn't want any unwanted things getting to little Lisa would we, Laura?"
She gritted her teeth, her hands shook creating a trail of ugly colours on the canvas. "You're such a bitch, you know that?"
I grinned, "Fact, I love it."
"Get out."
•••••••••••
And the mystery continues.
What are your thoughts on Simone's decisions.?
The more likes, the more encouragement and the quicker the update.?
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