Design of Death

“Not again,”

He was scared. It was always the same dream. No, more likely he considered it as a nightmare. It’s the dream that kept on haunting him giving him sleepless nights or if he sleeps, he’ll woke up drenched in heavy sweats. He almost lost grip of sanity because of the nightmares he had every night. He knew that it will happen. He could attest to that. That reality made him shiver and goosebumps started to sprout all over his trembling body.

It was almost 2AM when he woke up. He thought of things to stop the haunting. What he was thinking was quite stupid and he knew no one will believe him either even if it’s a battle between life and death. Continue reading



Living in someone else's shadowBeads of sweat streamed down from her temple as she struggled to jostle her way through a host of frenzied people clamoring and singing in chorus, all in high pitch decibels to a group of males performing on stage as though they had never seen such a spectacle before. Had it not been for the relentless coaxing of her friends to seeing ‘The Canons’ – as the band was named, she would never have, under any circumstance, drag herself into such gathering. But being the impressionable friend that she was, she yielded to their request. She raked the entire podium with her eyes for semblance of a man she so have been trying hard to evade, as she was told to. And as though luck was in total defiance with the wishes, her eyes collided with his. An awkward recognition broke through their faces but she instantly withdrew hers. It seems that coming here would’ve proved to be such a bad idea afterall. And still as if she hadn’t had the worst yet, her friends had somehow noticed the same thing.

“Hey Alice, don’t tell us you know Traze Canon, the vocalist. He keeps looking at you.” Continue reading


Crossing Fates

He bit his lower lip. He was anxious. He was not sure how to start what he was about to do but this was his only option to get things done. On his hand were the make-up pallet and the set of his sister. On the table were magazines opened to the leaves with articles concerning beauty tips. He had drowned his eyes reading a lot of beauty pages and searched on sites about how to do a make-up. His reflection was staring at him with much apprehension, worried of what might happen after. But this was not the ideal time to be chickened. He should start with this and the rest will just fall into its places according to his plans. With his bones shivering down his vertebrae and uncertain shaking hands, he grabbed tight of the innocent brush. A push of big blow of air came out of his chest. With deep faith to the tips he read and a doubt on his self, he began applying neutral shade of blush on caramel hues on the apples of his cheeks, set with translucent loose powder. He prettied his self-up by trying just a little bit of eye shadow on the inner corner of his eyes, then blending slightly onto the upper lid. He lavished his nude cherry lips with a light shade of rose hue lip tint that provided his lips a sheen and crystal shine finish. His self was staring at him.

‘Almost done,’ he thought. He bit his lower lip again – a habit that he couldn’t control.

 He was staring in disbelief at himself. If mirror could lie, then, this was the time. But no, the mirror spilled all. With so much awe, he brushed the side of his palm on his face serenely, mouth slightly open, hanging. How pretty he was with make-up on. Well, as a man, it cannot be denied that he was good looking. But now, he’s so beautiful –like his sister. He pouted his lips and made a soft smooching ‘smack’ sound. He giggled. Continue reading


August Sky

If it wasn’t for the conflict of ideology, it would never be a battle of worth.

“Don’t try telling me what should be done!” Sky grumbled out after some arguments. She had been the Editor-in-chief of the Academy’s newspaper for more than a year now. And what she believed was firm.

“This is for the Academy and for the students!” a man with an athlete’s built shouted back. His innocent handsome face had been serious by the conversation. His eyes turned to her as if piercing her soul to believe him.

She was caught by his eyes. She moved away.

“If this is about principle, then prove it to me!” she shouted outside the window and found some of the students. She felt fear.

“Fine! So, you’ll have to follow my orders!” there was authority in his words and a fine blend of arrogance. If it was about a battle of principle and proving that what he believed was right, he was pretty much confident. Why not? He was Harvey August, the student welfare president. Students looked up on him. Students believed in him and they followed his orders.

“NO!” she replied decisively.

He was silent for a bit. She went to her table and picked some things –a notebook, a pen and a key. She moved towards his direction. She felt her heart thumping loudly and there were fear, worries and hate. She grabbed Harvey’s hand. It was soft and gentle, not a typical hand for a man like him. He placed the things on his hands vigorously. Continue reading