From the very dawn of my existence
Your velvet blanket covered over me
Shielding me from prying eyes.

Your heart beats along with mine.
We are one.

Your cord of love tethers me to you.
You rein me in to keep me from flying away.
You are my safeguard
You are my snare.
I am attached to you forever.

The produce of your breasts nourishes me
Yet it is also like a poison slowly killing my independence.

Your hands cover my eyes over so that I do not see the calamities of this world
And yet they also blind me from your faults.
You shut my ears to keep me from hearing the voice of reason.

When you cry, I cry.
When you lose, I lose
Yet your victories are yours and yours alone.

Mother, I would kill for you even if that means the life that has to be sacrificed is my own.


“The Most Hated boy in the World”

I thought I should share a draft of the first chapter of a novel I’m currently working on, about a young boy who faces abuse from the people he trusts the most- his family. It is based on true events. The title is as above mentioned.

Please feel free to leave comments and suggestions.

Chapter one – “To the bone”

As he searches for warmth in the depths of his pockets with his diminutive hands, a bitterly cold breeze violently slaps him across the face. The weather has been particularly unforgiving this week, and today is no exception. It’s a damp foggy Thursday morning and The silhouettes of the people walking in front and beside him slowly diminish and disappear into the mist. Young and old bodies strut by trying to catch up to the morning rush

Another one of the wind’s companions gives it a go, blow by blow the winds attack as to taunt him, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance against them. One more surge of cold air pierces straight into his eyes, forcing them shut.
A tear begins to fall down his frozen cheek, followed by another and another, tears start to flow like a flooded river during raining season.
He gives out a heavy sigh that seems to fall out of his mouth and warms up the cold air surrounding his face.

He wipes the tears on his face as quickly as he can and throws his hands back into his thin grey trouser pockets. He clenches his fists to trap the little warmth in his hands preventing it from escaping. It doesn’t help that his school uniform is made from horribly rangy fabric. The hefty sack on his back is not making the journey to school any easier either.

Anyway, it will all be worth it once he gets there. He enjoys school and loves to learn. The classroom is his sanctuary. It helps him forget about all his troubles…


“Call Me by My Name.”

Her heart was pounding, the wind blowing against her thick coily air, and her feet almost levitating off the ground, all those hours of training seem to have finally paid off. She is racing through the sports field. Sprinting passed her competition. She is almost there, almost at the finish line.

That was three weeks ago, and today she is still running, this time not toward the finish line, but toward safety. Running from that sweet lady from the flower shop, instead of lilies, she has a machete in her hands. That librarian who always shushed her and her friends for making noise in the library is the one shouting out the loudest “Get her, they must all die!”. And that postman who used to greet her every morning with a smile is now on the frontline of the crowd, the instigator.

She had been dodging bullets a few days ago, but it looks like people have run out of ammunition, and now they use whatever they can find as assault weapons. At first, it was fear in their eyes, but now it is pure rage and hate. They just want her dead.

This disease has changed many things, but the worst it has done is take away her precious memories. She can’t even remember her name.

As she runs passed the park, a sudden image crosses her mind like a vision. it’s of a man, familiar but strange. He is teaching a little girl how to ride a bike, a pink bike with sparkles on the paddles, and a small white basket in the front. She could hear his soft voice, so soothing, so encouraging as the little girl fell off her bike over and over again. “Never give up, no matter what okay? now go on dear, go on…try again, I’m here for you” he says. Determined, the little girl picks herself up and gets on the bike again. After paddling for longer than she did before and making it to the other side of the park, with the man running right beside her, she shouted out “Daddy, look I did it!”

She slowed down while trying to savor that moment. Tearing up, and looking back at the park she then slipped and fell over a toy, probably abandoned there during the chaos of people trying to leave town when the disease had started spreading.

The mob was coming closer and closer toward her, more determined than ever to be rid of her kind, the infected ones. As she tried to pull herself up, waking from the daydream of what seemed to be a memory of her past, a young man suddenly appeared from the side of the street, took her by her hand, and pulled her up to run. He took her into his white van and they drove off.

Wait…who are you?” she tried to say but her words come out all scrambled and chopped. She is losing her speech now. She is changing faster than she expected. The young man turns to her and says,
“Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, I’m taking you to a safe place, it will all be alright, trust me.”
Did he hear what I said?
She is confused but feels safe enough.
She has no more energy left to fight anyway. Maybe he is her last hope of finding out who she is and finding her family, if they are still alive.

She caught sight of herself in the rearview mirror, she is not an attractive young athlete anymore. The disease has added a few years to her face. Her beautiful golden-brown glow is turning to a pale grayish tone, almost transparent. Cold to the touch. Dark dilated pupils are looking back at her, she no longer has that pleasant hazel gaze that the boy from Geography class fell head over heels for.
She looks to her rescuer in the driver’s seat and notices how handsome he is, with clear skin and dark curly bangs that hung over his big brown eyes. She is jealous of his youthfulness. He is wearing a grey hoody, some faded blue jeans, and white sneakers.
Typical white-boy swag.

She sees they are leaving the city and going into the countryside. The more she tries to speak, the less she is understood.

Twitching and ticking have set in now, a sign that she is almost completely changed.
Her rescuer notices this and offers her some food as a distraction from the thought of her terrible fate. A stale tuna sandwich, and bottled water. She accepts as she hasn’t eaten in days. She didn’t even notice how hungry she was. As she bites into the sandwich the taste reminds her of something, but she doesn’t know what. She struggles to hold on to her fading memories but they are quickly slipping away. The disease is close to killing her, well the old her.

They make it to their destination, a massive
mansion in the countryside. Inside they are greeted by a young couple and an old woman with money and authority written all over her. She could have been the mayor or a town councilor, but she couldn’t recognize her anyway. They seem to be excited to see her, relieved even.

“Hi, my name is Leo and this is my wife Cassie, I’m sure Jonathan took good care of you, right?” The man said smiling, dressed in matching cargo pants and black t-shirts with his wife.

She didn’t realize that her savior had not introduced himself. She glanced back at him.
Johnathan, that sounds familiar.
They lock eyes. The old woman interrupts the moment and says in an authoritative voice, “I am Victoria, nice to meet you.” stretching out her hand for a handshake.

“My…name is…well, I don’t quite remember, I was hoping you would help me with that. I…uh”
She remembers that no one can understand her.

“Don’t worry dear, no need to explain,” Cassie says, she looks a little frightened but tries to hide it with pseudo-confidence.

They pull her into a room set up like a lab.
“Sit down dear” Victoria says.
Who are these people? Are they scientists? Am I their next experiment?
She is uneasy and hesitates to sit. She looks around for Johnathan, he is standing leaning against the door with his arms folded. He looks calm and tries to reassure her with a smile and a nod.

She sits, Cassie tries to strap her in the chair, but she resists.
“Stop! (Hissing)… no, (mouning) stop it, please! (Snarling)”
Everyone froze, she could tell that they were afraid of her but they were still
determined to do whatever it is they meant to do with her.
Johnathan comes closer, kneels beside the chair, and holds her hand. For some reason she trusts him, and without a word spoken she calms down and lets Cassie finish what she started.

Victoria just watches from the corner of the room like she is the one in control of the whole thing, whatever it is.

Leo then appears with gloves on and a needle and syringe in his hands. “This will sting a little.”
Oh well, that’s it for me then. I had a good run.
Taking one last look at Johnathan, she squeezes his hand. He looks into her eyes and says “It’s okay Aisha, you’ll be alright.”
Ais…Aisha, that’s it! that’s my name!
Wait, don’t…how do you know me? how do you know my n…
She falls into a deep sleep.


Book review; After: The Shock (book #1 in the AFTER series) by Scott Nicholson

It has been a week after a solar flare hit the entire planet, killing half the world’s population, and disrupting power grids, internet connections, communication devices, and transport systems. Most survivors have become violent mutants called Zapheads, and the remaining normal humans are left navigating in a civilization that has been brought back into the dark ages.

The protagonist Rachel Wheeler affectionately known as Ray Ray is a God-fearing young woman from Charlotte North Carolina, who believes that everything happens for a reason and that the apocalypse is possibly a test from God. She has lost her entire family and friends but has been successful in surviving on her own so far.

Along the way, she meets a black street-smart young man named Devontay and a 10-year-old orphaned boy named Stephen. The three of them make an odd trio, but they grow very fond of each other while trying to find a safe place to hide and survive. However, It turns out that the mutants are not their only enemy.

Even though After: The Shock is a post-apocalyptic thriller with violence as one of its themes, the author Scott Nicholson cleverly touched on some sensitive issues such as suicide, addiction, guilt, religion, and the meaning of life, in a humorous way which I appreciated and enjoyed. The ending lays a solid foundation for the next book in the series After: The Echo which I am looking forward to reading.

This story opened my eyes to how differently humans experience life depending on their backgrounds and beliefs. I saw how facing difficult situations can test one’s morality, and the most important lesson I’ve learned is that even after we lose everything materially, what will always remain is that which makes us human; faith, love, and hope.

I’m giving this book a rating of 4 stars out of 5. An overall great read.


“I remember the day I caught sadness”

I remember the day I cought sadness.

It was the day I realised that I hated my father. Well, he hated me first, so I hated him back.

This illness began as a tiny seed, but then it grew quickly and weeded it’s way all around the blooming flower garden of my juvenile heart. It suffocated me. It choked all the joy out of me.

My father had no idea how ill I was, or maybe he knew but just didn’t care.
To my dismay I found out that he was also suffering from this disease, and it was hereditary. That meant I had no choice but to suffer.

He was a man of few words, and with those words he would always convey discipline, disgust and disappointment. Bursts of anger and endless tantrums were typical whenever I made a mistake. I hated it, I hated him. I still do.

I still remember the day I caught sadness.

The sound of my Father’s foot steps haunted my dreams. His disaproval hung over me like a dark cloud carrying a heavy storm. I was so afraid to dissapoint him, and this is why I never learnt to love him.

I was condemned with this illness so early in life and that proved to be too much of a burden for me to carry. I wanted to get well so desperately, so I took refuge in pills and potions. They only dulled the pain with temporary enjoyment. It felt like a peaceful dream that got interrupted by the horrific nightmare of real life.

I recieved neither consolation nor comfort. No “get well soon” cards, or warm soup to help me recover. Not even a single kiss of compassion from my mother. I was just left alone, to perish on my death bed.

So I decided to run, to leave my father and all my pain behind. I wanted be free, healthy and happy. But the further I ran the heavier my feet got. So heavy that they would drag me back. Back to that dark place. A place that I’m still trying to escape.

I will always remember the day I caught sadness, and it will be apart of me forever.
No relief, no remedy. Till death do us part.