Sara Writes

Today was a good day. I felt happy and accomplished. When my mother came home, I even twirled around and showed her my dress. She laughed and called me beautiful. Everything was perfect today, and nothing could have ruined it. Nothing should have ruined it.   I heard my father shouting at my mother.  I scooted closer to my room's door, wishing on my soul he was just talking normally but in a higher voice. But, he was shouting at her, they were talking about divorce. It was something that happened because of me.  It's quite funny when you know they'll not last but when you hear them say it out loud, it's harder than how you thought how it would be. It's like the universe is making fun of you. Playing with pieces that hurt even when touched, but they throw it around.  For the past year, the bathroom has been my hiding place when I cry, so that nobody can see me cry.  They won't kill me if they catch me crying, but, they have never caught me, so I'm not sure. I

  Abbot Henry, today, I take you, as my lifelong companion, as every day, asleep or awake, I dream of you  all the same. I found home, in your smile.  I love you with a love that shall not die, till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.  God only knew my heart needed you,  in my weariest of times.  I would not wish any companion,  but you.  I love you, not only for what you are,  but for what I am when I am with you,  I love you not only for what, you have made of yourself,  but for what you are making of me,  I love you for the part of me,  that you bring out. Hand in hand, you and me, Today, tomorrow and forever. For if I am anything,  I am yours.  I swallow a lump forming in my throat, as I look up at him, he smiles his ever-so-charming smile  The smile I have seen since I was so young, fragile, and childish. It's the smile I have grown to love now, ever-so-secretly I cherish it every day.  He seems lost for a few seconds, but then he begins.   I, Abbot Henry, take you, Fra

This is the second part of the Tokoyo Train. The will to die can make the most luxurious fancies feel like the ugliest of fires It's clockwork how days work now, No, the sunlight doesn't turn a modest shade and no voices don't fade. The cold shards of wind don't bring cold or hot gushes. Instead, it's the repetitive phrases that haunt me.  For me, it's five gunshots that I hear.  "Miss, your parents? Where are they?" "Miss?"  Mr Collin's voice echoes in the cold house.  I see the late winter noon sunlight fall on the leaves. I finished writing the research paper I had to send to Dr. Keith a few days ago.  I walked down to where Mr Collin was standing.  "Why are you here?" I ask, speaking after days of not uttering a word out of my mouth.  "Well, the research programme had prize money, you rushed out so fast we couldn't give it to you. I'm here for the same" With that he handed me a box.  Taking it, I nodded.  &