Sara Writes

  Not a Lullaby   Clara fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve as she sat on a bench in the unkempt park near her house. Her feet shifted and tucked at something, she looked down and saw some weeds growing out. Her hand gazed on her forearm where it stung. She had covered up the bruise pretty well with her gray clothes but that didn’t help cover up the pain at all.  It’s just a bruise, it will go before you know it. She thought to herself.  She closed her eyes and laid her head back and soon began to drift off when suddenly out of nowhere today’s memory seeped in. Everything was a blur when a big hand came and slapped her across the cheek, the impact made her face the right corner of the room, where her mother lay unconscious and beaten up, she tried to reach for her but she was sharply pulled back by her forearm and then there was another slap and another and another. By the time Clara snapped out she was gasping and fighting her tightening throat. After a few moments she calmed down and

  Hallow When today, Clove smiled he couldn’t remember when he had last time. His employer patted his head and the smile disappeared. The sensation of his head being patted wasn’t unfamiliar but deeply despised, now that the person who used to do it wasn’t anywhere but beneath the earth and at peace. The peace that person had endeavored all her life for Clove and herself. Clove looked towards his employer, Mr. Smith again, trying to smile, trying to thank him for giving him, his first earning. But no, he could not. It felt like a curse to not be able to smile. His heart clenched when he tried to remember how he used to do that, what made him smile earlier. her. her presences.  She was the only reason for his happiness . She was the reason for his life. Happy, he didn’t even remember the word now far was experiencing how it felt. How it would feel? Would it feel like a plant, perhaps one with orchids, growing out of his heart and filling the hollowness in his life…or his body…or his co

  Rainbow Those colors of the rainbow I see, Tell my life in a peculiar way, The dark once are for my Secrets, heartbreaks, Tears, failures… The lighter ones show the Smiles, hopes, lights, and friends…  

  New Blood Stephano had visited so many places, so many people today that he had even lost the count. Where is he? Is he starving for food, for water? What is wrong with him? He kept thinking. It was getting dark now, the contrasting dense, yet familiar colors of pink and orange mixing to disperse again in the west. He sat on a stool in front of a shop, what was the reason behind what he did? He imagined his son, tall and lean with a shock of black hair and the palest skin. The air started to clear, he was looking at his son, his back to Stephano’s face, laughing with a few ragged street teenage boys. Stephano lifted himself up from the stool in rage and crossed the road to where his son was standing. He made the boy face him by pulling on his shoulder ‘How many times have I told you not to hang with people like them, huh? And why would you run away like that?’ Recognition hit, it was not his son but another street kid who was now lifting his fist to Stephano’s face. ‘I’m sorry, I con

  When I laugh with you... It's something else. It comes unharmed from my heart. It's like I'm five again. It's something I cherish every day. It's beautiful as a poem. It's adventures as a story. It's carefree as a bird. It's free of hesitation.  It's something I can keep forever. It's something whose bits I store in my heart in a locker. It can't be explained just like the things we laugh at...