Online gaming

My name is Anath!

Umm, no it’s not….

My name is Sirra!

That’s not it.

My name is…what was my name again? Those are the names I use in an online game. I have many friends there, including a lover. Just yesterday I was walking alongside the riverbank with him when he proposed. I was so happy that I had to use an emoticon to show it. And yesterday my friends threw a surprise party for me. Again, what happy hours those were. We danced and laughed until two days passed. I received many presents and my lover even gave me this cute little rabbit as a pet. Today we went hunting, many armors and weapons dropped, and when we sold them we made a pretty handsome profit. My bag is now full of coins. I wonder how much I can still make. I should save up for our weeding.  Still need to make the quest for a wedding dress and him for a tuxedo. It’s going to take some time. Maybe I can stay up all night and finish the first part.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I did it, only two more parts to go. He couldn’t finish it and although I offered to help he refused me. He told me it was something he needed to do by himself. I can’t keep my eyes open anymore…maybe it’s time I put up a shop.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

He went hunting with another char. I got mad. We had a fight. When he called me to talk about this..my internet connection collapsed.

Then I return to REALITY. My dad comes in, my paper is due tomorrow, and I’m feeling hungry.

I think it’s time to search for another online game.

Play free games at Kongregate

100 Words Story

“Forever it will be!” He cried in a aggravatingly sharp tone. “Don’t forget my words. Now and forever they will haunt you, awake or asleep there is no escape from your sins!“
Each stroke of the grandfather’s clock reminded her of those words, always causing a slight chill to run down her spine, reaching the depth of her heart.
“Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock…” The sound became louder as the wretched time approached at an alarming speed leaving only memories of the past behind.
“Even if it were to end like this, I will never repent for that which was necessary!”

Life...what a joke...

1

Who said life is beautiful? I don’t  know…What’s so wonderful about living every day…struggling more and more to fit in, drinking to forget, smoking to calm down…all this is bullshit…why should I do this? Where is the blessing of the so called God? Why is it that every day I have to think, to talk, to respond, to move, to breathe…? I hate this, it’s stupid!  I don’t want to do it anymore…still passing to the other side is scary… I’m not that brave, and then again I’m not brave enough to keep living either… is it courage or stupidity, where does it all lead? You just live…and other will live after you…you will be forgotten soon, there’s no point even trying. Even as a famous person, how much time will people remember you? 10-20 years from now you will be just like any other person…it’s only stalling.

Why should we struggle in everyday life? Are the feelings of joy worth it? They’re only momentary, still we fight for that 1 moment with all we’ve got…people are really stupid…

Staying in an old building, looking at my father self-destruct, pretending I’m okay, feeling pity for others, mocking others, being mocked, being felt pity for, it’s never-ending. It will only stop when I die, maybe not even then, for me at least. This sucks! Life sucks! Love? Hah, bullshit! Happiness, trust, companionship, they’re all bullshit! All that’s real are greed and meanness.

Why are we all so stubborn in believing fairytales? People are so weak, can’t live without God or hope for a better future… which is obviously not going to happen. Each man for itself, that’s the rule! The survival of the strong and the death of the weak! The so called jungle rule. It’s the same even between civilized people. Civilized, even the word seems like a joke to me. People are only animals who learned to deceive themselves and others. And so we live, each minute, each hour, each day, each month, each year, each decade, each generation… what a joke! 

Drabbles

The little boy looked slightly over the end of the fence only to see the whitish fog embracing the small and run-down house at the very end of the hill. As he drew nearer with unsteady steps, tiny flickering lights made their appearance from time to time in a circular pattern, making the boy question the direction of the house over and over again. They were dancing, happily dancing, swirling in the cold air. They couldn’t be counted although as they approached the boy, he realized he couldn't figure out if it was really them moving, or him, staggering, an eight years old boy.

Although it was already dark and the clouds were huffing loud threats with all they had, there was not a single drop of rain to be seen. It was an ominous feeling in the air, as the boy was hesitantly approaching the house. Suddenly, the playful lights were gone, now the only visibility he had was given by the shy moonlight rays which from time to time would arise from beyond the clouds. The stillness of the surrounding nature was adding to the chilling atmosphere. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Nothing could come out of the little boy’s chest.

A sound was heard, as he approached the house even more. Where did the rhythmical sound emerge from? At first it was just barely reaching his years, but as he kept walking forward the pulsating sound drew closer and closer and with an accelerating speed. He finally arrived at the front porch of the house. As he put forth his hand, a bell started ringing in a bloodcurdling tone. Suddenly a strong light was turned on in front of the door. Slowly the door cracked open.

Trick or treat! The boy mumbled while trying his best not to run away.

Ouija documentation project

Today is 6 of June 2006. We are all now gathered at this house to make an experiment as homework, that was provided by our English teacher. The house we’re at is on Granicerilor Street in the small town called Baia Mare. Country: Romania. We have 7 days to finish this task.

Our goal is to prove that ghosts exist. We are four people participating in this project:

1^st: Mihaela Rogojan

2^nd: Cristina Pop

3^rd: Ana Nicolae

4^th: Nicoleta Stan

This place belongs to me, the leader of the group, Mihaela Rogojan. It is a house we don’t usually use unless we are renovating the other one. It used to be leased but the previous tenants moved away a month ago.

Day I:

While placing our hands together on the planchette there were no sign of anything out of the ordinary. We stayed for three hours trying to call on someone from the other world. Conclusion: 1^st day failure to prove existence of spirits.

..........................................................................

Day II:

Still nothing out of the ordinary happened. We stayed 5 hours trying. Conclusion: 2^nd day failure to prove existence of spirits.

.........................................................................

Today was the first day something could be interpreted as anything supernatural happening. The planchette moved as a sign that something or someone was successfully summoned. Then we started asking questions but he or she stayed quiet. All of a sudden, after about an hour, the board shook violently until we all got our hands off of it. We called it quits for today. Conclusion: Got some signs but nothing big.

...........................................................................

Day IV:

Today we found out some answers. The spirit summoned was a woman, who died in 1944. According to what she said, she didn’t die of natural causes. She was married and had a kid named George. Her name is Amalia.

The questions and answers were as follow (going to spell the answers as on the board):

Are you there?

YES

What is your name?

A+M+A+L+I+A

Are you dead?

YES

When did you die?

1+9+4+4

Why did you die?

(no response)

How old were you?

2+5

Were you single?

NO

Did you have kids?

YES

How many?

O+N+E

Do you remember his name?

YES

What was it?

G+E+O+R+G+E

That was all for now. Thank you!

Day V:

I don’t know what happened! Everything was going great until Amalia suddenly got angry. We tried to sooth her but in vain. It’s still raining outside and we can’t get out. All the windows and doors are locked. I don’t know how or why she’s doing this. Our cell phones are out of signal and we are the only ones in this house. It is now 8 PM. We decided to give it another try and find out why she is doing this.

What happened?

Y+O+U

Did we offend you?

Y+O+U

How can we make it up to you?

Y+O+U

No matter what we ask. It’s the same answer.

Little time has passed and the board started moving by itself. It was only one word it spelled over and over again. It was a name. My name: M+I+H+A+E+L+A

Suddenly all the lights went out and powerful knocking was heard at both the door and the window at the same time. It was dark inside and outside. We could still hear the planchette moving on the board. Lighting and thunder was being heard from outside and it was just  adding to the terror we were all feeling.

Nevertheless I think I was the most petrified. Why my name? Was it because the house was mine? Does she have any connection to this place?

..........................................................................

Day VI:

It’s now past 1 AM. The board stopped moving and the knocking ceased. Outside the violent storm is still making a ruckus. We are all on the one bed there is, embracing each other tightly. Nothing happened since then…except...I had a very bizarre dream. I was just a small child in the dream, around 5 years old. And there was a little boy playing with me. He was older and had contrasting blue eyes and crimson color hair. I noticed that he followed me everywhere but nobody said anything about him. Was he a relative? Wouldn’t I have remembered him, with such egregious features? I know his name, but I can’t clearly remember it. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Maybe the dream was induced by the strenuous atmosphere. The girls can’t seem to take it anymore either. Ana already fainted once, Nicoleta is on the verge of a mental breakdown and Cristina can’t stop crying. We are currently waiting for the sun to rise.

 ..........................................................................

I can’t believe what happened. The things were starting to look better regarding our situation, Amalia was no longer mad. Or at least that was what we thought. Nevertheless as soon as we attempted to leave the room, the knocking began again, even more violent than before. We didn’t answer. Then, as surrounding us, we heard whispers coming from every corner of the room. Each of our names was said 9 times. Or at least from what I counted. But I can’t say for sure. Even though it’s already 1 PM, it’s still pretty dark inside the room. The storm was still raging wild outside but now it was only whips of rain drops powered by the restless bursts of wind.

It’s now 4 PM. I just got signal on my cellular and I phoned my father to come get us. Hopefully everything will be okay from now on. Now only if I could find o.............

 ..........................................................................

Already two weeks passed. Today is the 27 of June. We are all safe. Sometimes I can’t believe something really happened. The only thing which is disturbing now is the blackout we all had. We can’t remember anything that happened in the 7 days we were there. Apparently mother only got the phone call on 13^th of June, the 7^th day of our project. But it clearly states that it was on the 12^th that I called.

I researched the spirit we encountered. I am now unwilling to call her by her name. I did found some testimonials about her. But she wasn’t even from this town. She was from a town called Tulcea, which is in the South-East of the country while we are in the North. She was a nurse in the World War II. She indeed had a son named George and ironically she died by the very hands of her beloved son. He was wounded on the battlefield and when he was sent back he had already lost a leg. Apparently the operation took place with his mother beside him. Blaming her for the lost, he one day slashed her neck with a kitchen knife. Also what greatly bothered me was that the same man was the last tenant we had at the apartment. When I asked my parents about that family I found out the father committed suicide in the apartment. The reason is still unknown. Apparently it was in the same room where we gathered. I might have a hunch as just why he felt that he had nowhere else to go.

Regarding the dream, it wasn’t as I thought.That boy has another story behind him.

This concludes this documentation paper regarding the existence of spiritual beings. I will leave this in your hands, you may use it however you want.

Dream or reality?

Even if I told somebody about what happened to me, they wouldn’t believe me. I mean, I can hardly believe it either, and I’m not too sure about what happened.

It all started one overcast night. It was a full moon but you could hardly see any light coming from it because of all the clouds covering the sky. From time to time you could hear the cricket’s song outside in the yard. I was reading a book in my bed when I heard a noise coming from downstairs. So I got up and went to see what was going on. When I got near the end of the stairs I shouted:

“Mom? Is that you? What are you doing home? Was the trip canceled?”

But nobody answered, although the lights in the kitchen were on. So I walked slowly as to not make too much noise. I was getting scared. I knew my brother was spending the night at his friend, so I was home alone. I reached for the umbrella near the entrance, and then I entered the dining room. The light was becoming stronger as I approached the kitchen door. I could hear the noise intensifying and getting louder, there was even a crash. Although I could barely stay on my feet, because they were shaking uncontrollably, I watchfully entered the kitchen.

There was a mess on the floor. The fridge was wide open, and the cake I made that day was on the floor. Between parts of cornflakes, which usually were on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, there was a smashed dish. The flower vase on the kitchen work table was upside-down, and the flowers were a mile away, near the fridge.

I raised the umbrella over ready to strike at the smallest move, but everything was quiet now. Then I noticed the window was open. I must have forgotten to close it before going upstairs. When I reached for the sash of the window to close it, I looked outside. There were about ten pairs of red, beady, eyes looking at me. Some were further, some closer, with their eyes fixed on the kitchen window. I felt a creepy chill running down my spine.

I suddenly hid, gluing myself to the wall of the window. I then stealthy looked out the window again, while in the same time, I extended my hand to the gardens lights switch. I pushed it. When the light lit in the garden, I saw many squirrels running for cover to the darker sides of the backyard.

I’ve never in my life seen so many squirrels all in one place. It wasn’t very pleasant, especially since I was alone at home, and it was late at night too. But this wasn’t even the weirdest part. That came the next morning.

After I closed the window, I was so relieved that I suddenly felt very sleepy. I decided to go to bed and clean up tomorrow. “Nobody will know if I just clean it tomorrow. I’m too sleepy now, and after the scare I’ve been through, I deserve a good night’s sleep.” I told myself, while checking to see if the doors and windows were looked tightly. So I climbed into bed, and fell asleep the moment I put my head on the pillow.

The next morning when I woke up, to my surprise, everything was at their place. Even the cake was still in the fridge, untouched, and there weren’t any broken plates. Was it all a dream? I asked myself. But just, when I was sure I’ve dreamed it all, I saw a squirrel near the kitchen window, looking into the house. When she noticed I had seen her, she quickly ran into the apple three in the garden, and then disappeared from sight.

Later that day, when my brother came home, I asked him if he came earlier by any chance, and cleaned up the kitchen. But he said he was at his friend’s house up until now, and they didn’t even left their house all day, because they were playing an online game.

What really happened on that night or if it was all a dream, I’m not sure. All I know is that from then on, every time I look into the garden, I search for traces of squirrels in the trees or on the ground. It has become a habit now. And sometimes, I even have the impression that there is someone watching from outside the window, carefully as to not be discovered.

Gibberish of an "old" woman

  Every time I open my computer… And I see my desktop full of shortcuts of games… I think to myself: Why am I playing all this? The answer is: To escape reality!
  Online or offline… they all make me forget about failed exams, problems with social relationships or even those with my family. When I play, I concentrate only to grow more, to extend my influence, make some friends, and just plainly have fun. Now a day it’s all about the computer. When was the last time I noticed the birds chirping at my window, or the light breeze of summer. I have long forgotten the feeling of innocence. Even if I’m only 21 years old, I feel like I’ve lived a long life. My early years were troublesome not because of me but because of my father, who for a while lost to the alcohol and regrets. This was after my mother died.  I often saw him dead drunk, with his head on the table, snoring away as he lost touch with reality, he succumbed to a beautiful dream. There he wasn’t left all alone… with three young girls to take care of. Although I was young, I already knew the gravity of the problem my father was facing. Maybe if it wasn’t for his mother, my grandmother, we, the three sisters wouldn’t be together now. But this all passed we grew up, but then, life showed us another problem…love. What is love, and how do you find it? Is it just something you feel deep inside ourselves, or just an illusion we like to create in order to feel secured?  I personally think the so called love happens when we feel at peace with another person…which can be from different reasons. Financially or emotionally, as long as we are accepted, and we feel protected, we classify that as love. Maybe this comes from the need of companionship, and the fright of dying alone. Which again I believe is weird because one way or the other, we are one person and we are born alone, and die alone, no matter who is beside us.  Now how can we find the rumored soul mate?  The most honest answer I can come up with right now is that there isn’t a soul mate. It’s all an illusion which we create in order for us to feel better about our life. Even if there is a sexual attraction, the emotional one exists only for a short time. Sexual attraction can stay for a longer time, but even that, sooner or later end up as nothing but mere memories. So real love is just what people have created in order to please themselves.
  There are some people who realize that, and in all my bad luck, I am one of them.  And when I realized this, I knew that the fairy-tales I listened to when I was little were just part of the ways to make us fall under this impression of love and care among humans. But there isn’t any, it’s all just customs, like the wedding, and our need to rely on somebody. Maybe that isn’t even the worst part. That which now recognizes some ideas of love as false, but that which teaches us to believe in this idea, only for our own selfish reasons, that can later lead to disappointment and sadness.  So in the end, thinking about all this, it’s nothing that can make me feel better about life. We live for ourselves, and everything we do is conditioned by our own good. We are just some self-absorbed creatures, who are a little more evolved than animals. I believe animals have more right to be happy then humans do. Because they live by their instincts, and if they hurt something, it’s not intentionally, unlike humans, who can hurt other creatures, just for their own self-satisfaction, without even thinking twice about it.
  Thinking about all this makes me want to escape, to a fantasy world, where I can be a stronger person, a wiser person, where people aren’t judged from how they look, and where I can act freely, without worrying about the consequences.  But even if I try to escape in my own imaginary world, or online gaming, it’s all in vain. Even there, people influence the way society is thinking, leading to a copy of real life society, from which I wanted to escape in the first place.  So human’s ideas and ideals transfer even to games and imagination, leaving us with no way out of this labyrinth of thoughts. This circle is repetitive and it will be like that even for the years to come, when humans, lost in their ignorance, will eventually destroy each other and themselves, without even realizing it, and the whole human kind will reset itself, if not vanish, returning maybe even then, at a innocent state of things, but then, there will be no more proof of these thoughts passing through my mind, and maybe there will be no one to even be able to read this, as my conciseness, flies at long last, freely through the universe.
  And there will be no meaning in ever thinking about it. Then, I will stop searching for ways to evade life.

Colorful pebbles

“He’s back!”

“Are you serious? What is he doing, back here?”

“Who are you talking about?” Sarah asked, coming behind the two girls, who were talking.

“The devil!” The girls said in unison.

“Devil?”

“Yes. You don’t know yet, because you just moved, but if you see a man, with white hair, and red eyes, stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Didn't we just told you?”

“Come on sis, let’s go. She won’t understand, anyway…” And they left, chattering away.

“Weird girls, those two!” Sarah grumbled. “Devil, that’s stupid. Now I don’t fell like going to school anymore. I really hate it here. It’s a total bore. Maybe, if the devil would really be here, it will make things more interesting.” She said, while turning in the opposite direction, and walking slowly.

“Mm, I’ve never been here before.” She said, when she noticed a road, a little farther from the central one. The road was secluded, by a row of trees, on which the treetops, were filled with pink flowers. Some of the flowers, were scattered onto the road, forming a soft cover to walk on.

Advancing on the pathway, while kicking rocks that were on the way, Sarah heard a strange noise. When she looked down, she noticed, she had kicked a metallic ball of some sort. She took it up, and stared at it. “What is this?” She wondered, while examining it. When she shook it, she could hear noise, coming from it. “There is something in it.” She said, while shaking it some more. Then, she turned it on all sides, but could not figure out how to open it.

While she was preoccupied with the ball, her cell phone rang. She took it out, and answered it: “Yeah? At school. No, I’m not! I’ll come back, after school hours. Yeah, bye!” And she hung up. She tucked the ball in her bag, and went back to the main road, heading in the direction of the school.

Sarah was a thin girl, her hair was raven black, shoulder length, and she had dark blue eyes. She came from the city, around a month ago, with her father. She was only 17 years old, but because of her mother's death, when she was little, she had to take care of the house chores, so she was more experienced and mature, than the rest of the girls. As a consequence, she never got along well with her classmates, being considered conceited.

When night came, just before going to bed, Sarah heard the sound of pebbles, hitting the frame of her window. She looked outside, but the sky was covered with clouds, and she could not see anything. She took a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a summer jacket, descended from the window, onto the balcony, and jumped on a tree near her. She then, lowered herself carefully on the tree, until she could touch the ground, with her feet.

She looked around, to see who had thrown the pebbles. It was even darker, as she distanced herself from the house. Not long after, the clouds started dissipating, allowing the moon rays, to fall onto the ground. Then, she saw a person, with white, long, flowing hair, heading down to the same road, she accidentally discovered that day. Without hesitating, she followed the man, who did not even turn around to see if she was following him.

When they arrived onto the pathway, surrounded by trees, the man disappeared after a tree. Sarah followed. When she squeezed herself, through a pair of trees, she raised one of her hand, to block the strong light which was hurting her eyes. When she got used to the bright light, she remained in awe, unmoved, for a couple of seconds. She could see a large, blue lake, outstretched on the horizon. Fishes were swimming around, and moons pale shafts of light, shining down on them. The fish were reflecting the moon rays, which made them look, like moving jewelry stones.

She then noticed the man, who was squatting, on the edge of the lake, playing with white pebbles. She approached him slowly, careful not to startle him. When she looked at him, she saw that his eyes were dark red, and they stood out even more, alongside his fair skin. When she reached, the place he was at, she sat down beside him, and turned her gaze to the lake.

“Why did you call me here?” She asked him, without even looking in his direction.

“The ball.” He replied, shortly. His voice was melodious, and he had a foreign accent.

“Oh, it was yours? Sorry, I didn’t know.” Sarah said, excusing herself.

“I know.” He simply said, smiling softly, and extended his arm, with his hand open.

She took the ball, from the pocket of her jacket, and handed it to him.

“What is in that ball?” Sarah asked.

The man pushed a small knot, on one side of the ball, and the ball opened easily. From it, colorful pebbles fell, onto the ground.

“Ah, I see.” She said, staring at the pebbles.

“Do you collect them?” He nodded.

“They’re beautiful!” She exclaimed, while looking at each, in turn.

“What’s your name?” The man asked.

“Sarah. What is yours?” She turned to the man, waiting for an answer.

“Whitley” He said, lowering his head.

“It means white meadow, right?” She asked, in a casual tone, and then continued. “It’s a beautiful name.” The man turned at her, and smiled.

“Yeah.” He said.

"Are you the one the local girls call the devil?" She asked with an nonchalant tone. He showed signs of nervousness, but still answered without his voice giving away what he felt.

"Yeah. They call me that..."

"Why?" Sarah said, with a genuine curiosity and innocence. Whitley answered while raising his tone a little.

"What do you mean why? Isn't it obvious? It's because of my looks." He turned his eyes away from her.

"I don't understand. I like how you look. And it's not your fault you have albinism either. So why call you devil. That's just stupid. That's why I hate this place, so many ignorant people." She said in a rush. Her cheeks turned red and her fists were clenched on the ground. He turned around and stared at her amazed.

"How did you know? Not many are aware of the cause of my looks." He asked while smiling gently.

"My mother..." She answered while leaning backwards, on her elbows, and making a short pause in her speech. "... She had it too..."

"Ah I see." He said while avoiding her look. "Where is she now?" He continued.

"She died, when I was 8." Sarah replied with a bored tone.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"It's okay, let's just change the subject, it's boring." She said while looking at him, and smiling softly.

They stood there, by the side of the lake, talking about everything, and anything, until it was time to go home.

“When are you coming, again?” She asked.

“Next year.” He replied. Sarah was disappointed. She had finally found, a person to talk to, and he was leaving, for a whole year.

“Here, take care of it, for me. And I shall bring more, to add to the collection.” And as he said that, he placed the metal ball, in her hands.

“Okay, you can count on me!” She said happily. “I’ll see you next year!” She shouted, as he was moving away. He turned, and waved to her, before disappearing among the trees.

Rain drops

I can feel it, cold rain drops, falling heavy onto my skin. It is so eerie the emotional state that I am in right now. Everything around me is gloomy, drowning in a felling of sadness and despair.

It does not matter how much I run, all I can see is darkened, tight corridors which lead form one room to another. Each room is empty, with glassy floors, wrapped up in darkness. There is no ceiling to these rooms. Rain is falling without stopping, becoming colder as I advance through the corridors.

I am now already tired and scared; I need to find something, but what? What is so important for me to run after in this horrid weather? I cannot see anything clear, only walls around me, and rain above me.

The sound of the big rain drops, falling on the glassy surface of each room, makes my head hurt. It’s a rhythmic sound, blending with the noise that my bare feet are making. Running through the corridors with unsure steps, trying to control the tremble of my whole body, as not to fall before I reach my destination, I sometime search the walls of the corridors for something to hold on to.

It is getting harder to breath now, as my running pace slows down, the feeling of panic rises through me. I cannot find it, but it must be here.

I see a door; a warm air flows from within. And I can see a welcoming ray of light coming from under the door. I grab the handle and while turning the door knob, I slowly push it. But it will not open. It will not move an inch, regardless of the strength used.

I know this is what I am looking for, but why won’t it open? Am I missing something? A key! That must be it. At least now I know what I am looking for. I just need to find a key. Realizing this, I feel a lot lighter and happier. I must search for the key, and I will find it, no matter what it takes.

 While thinking like that, I start running again. But the rain is still cold, and the corridors are never-ending. Still no sign of the key.

The wet clothes are weighting me down. It takes all my will, just to keep on going. My muscles are hurting, as I use them even more as time passes, trying to keep going, without thinking about the tiredness I am feeling. I am focusing all my attention into finding any trace of the key.

I can see light, coming from one of the rooms with the open ceiling. Maybe it is the key. I stop for a moment to rest. Then I use the little energy I have left to head into the direction of the light. But the more I struggle to advance, the dimmer the light appears. Then questions and doubts start rising into my mind:

Am I going the right way? Is there really a key to that door, or am I looking for it in vain? Why is the light getting fainter by the minute? Maybe it is a fire, and the rain is extinguishing it. I should hurry.

I finally arrive in the room, and as I look around me, trying to discern through the darkness, where the light had come from, I see another door.

Even though the room is darkened and the rain obscures the little visibility I have, I can see that the door is different from the last one. It is upholstered with dark-red silk and the casing is silver. When I try to open the door, I feel that the doorknob is warming up, as I keep my cold hand on it.

This must be where the key is. I thought. As I slowly push the door, the door swings aside, permitting entry. I see a flicker of light which quickly dies off, in the middle of the room. Then a deep darkness envelops me and the door behind me closes with a loud noise.

As I try to figure out where I am, I am hesitantly touching the walls with my hands, groping after a familiar object. Maybe the key is hidden here, in all the darkness. My hands find a thread with a little knot at the end. This must be the light for the room. I think, while I pull it firmly.

 Suddenly, the floor disappears, and I begin to fall. My voice will not come out, I cannot even scream. I am petrified with fear.

Ah, I must be outside, because as I fall, I feel yet again, the cold rain falling heavily on me. It makes all my pores scream of pain. Such a sharp pain, that it makes me wish I was dead and unfeeling.

The fall is never-ending, where is the ground? How much more time does it take to reach death. As these thoughts rush through my head, I hear a stuffed sound, coming from above me. Someone is calling for me. But who is it? Can’t they save me? Although I struggle to free myself from the terror, I can’t reply to the voice calling for me.

And so I remain motionless, as I am falling deeper and deeper into darkness and despair, without being able to mutter one single word for help. Since whatever I try to do is worthless, I close my eyes, waiting for death, while my body still shivers slightly as cold rain drops whip through my body.

“Finally you’re awake!” Somebody said with a worried tone of voice. “I thought I have to take you to the hospital.”

As I open my eyes, I see a shadow leaning over me. I can feel this person’s presence even more when she puts a cold compress on my forehead. It’s my mother.

“It’s time to take your medicine.”

As I hear her speak, I slowly realize.

“It was all a dream!” I mumble to myself with a smile of satisfaction at the warm bed, and the caring hand that strokes my hair, before falling unconscious yet again, under the influence of the fever.

An unbelievable trip

As I hurriedly shoved my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans, I heard the doorbell ring.

“Ah, she’s here already!” I said while rushing to open the door. In front of me stood my older sister with a fairly big bag on her shoulder.

“I’ll be done in a minute, Alice, just wait!” I said to her before she could even say hello.

“Yeah, yeah okay. Just hurry, will you? The plane will leave in two hours and we’re still here”, she replied while impatiently typing a message on her cell phone.

“Ready!” I said after a few minutes. “Let’s go!”

And so we got into her car and drove for about 20 minutes while listening to the radio in the car. When we finally arrived at the airport we checked our luggage in and then we stood there, waiting for the plane, while drinking a cup of coffee from a vending machine.

Finally the plane arrived, and we got on board of it. It was my first time ridding on a plane, so I was excited. My sister left me the window seat, as she had already traveled by plane a couple of times. She was obviously having fun seeing me so excited.

“Hope we don’t crash”, she said with an evil smile on her face. She knew I had heard many stories about airplanes crashing and I was a little scared.

“Don’t say that!” I whined, while checking my seatbelt. “You can’t scare me!”

“Yeah, yeah, I wouldn’t even dream of it”, she replied with an ironic tone.

We were almost at the destination, at the St. Kitts Island. We had decided on this destination after finding the Tripbase website on the internet. And there it was, Saint Kitts and Nevis sister Islands. Me and my sister were looking for a quiet place to unwind and recharge our batteries, so we discussed going on this trip. And before I knew it, we had already bought the tickets and made our reservations.

When we arrived, it was already evening, so we took a taxi to our hotel. It was called “Bird Rock”, and it had an incredible view of the Caribbean Sea.

After we checked in our room and arranged our luggage, we had dinner at “Diana’s Restaurant”, a meal which consisted of specific Caribbean dishes that even now, thinking about them, make my mouth water.

Afterwards, we were pretty tired after all the new things around us, so we retired to our room, and went to bed. The next day, we planned to go to the beach and take a dive into the sea.

After a few hours, I woke up at the sound of the TV. My sister had left it on and had fallen asleep like a rock. So I got up, and turned it off. But by then, I wasn’t sleepy anymore, so I decided to take a stroll on the beach. As it was still late at night, I could be all alone on the beach. So I changed into a white, thin blouse and a pair of jeans and went out of the room, as quietly as possible.

Just like I thought, I was all alone on the quiet beach, which was located in a protective cove. As I walked around, the warm sand was gently massaging my feet. Some red and narrow beams of light started appearing slowly, on the clear sky, while I was admiring their reflection in the water. As small waves were caressing the sand, they seemed to be dancing on the glassy surface.  

While I was thinking of returning to my room, I noticed a manly figure slowly coming out of the water. The man had long, black hair, and a good stature. He was definitely a swimmer. He wore a black swimming trunk, while his chest was naked. And while he was brushing his hair back, water was dripping from his body, leaving a trail on the dry sand.

I stood there entranced by this man, who seemed to be coming straight from a dream, as to answer my desire for company. At first, he didn’t seem to notice me. He then proceeded to slip his white shirt, which was crumpled at the root of a palm tree, back on his broad shoulders. The shirt slid easily on his chest following the contours of his wet skin. He suddenly fixed his eyes on me and slowly approached the spot where I was standing.

As I watched him walking towards me, I could feel a small wince of fear, passing through my body. But nevertheless, I just stood there, unable to utter a word. I could feel his eyes going over my body, binding me to the ground.

When he was in front of me, he took my left hand, and laid a cold kiss on it. I could almost feel the salty water of the sea, now on my left hand. I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t.

He stood there, in front of me, looking at me, holding my hand into his, for what to me seemed a couple of hours. He then slowly led me towards the sea, without even muttering a word.

Even though I thought it was strange, at that moment I couldn’t disobey him. I was following him blindly. There was something attracting me to this person, something linking me to him, leaving me at his command.

As we slowly walked into the sea, I could feel the small, cold waves crashing at my feet. When the water was around my waist, he suddenly stopped. He then turned to me and embraced me.

His arms were cold, clinging desperately onto me. As if waking up from a trance, I put my arms around him, and whispered: “I’m sorry!”

He then looked at me, with a sad smile, and nodded. He understood. While still holding me, he softly touched my forehead with his lips. When he let go of me, I noticed a tear, dropping onto his cheek. As I gently wiped it off with my right hand, I could feel its warmth.

Before I could realize it, tears started flowing out of my eyes, blocking my view of the man. After I wiped them off violently, rubbing my eyes, I noticed he was already gone. I couldn’t see him anymore. My knees gave in, and I was in the water up to my neck.

After that night, all I would do was sit at the beach, almost all day and night, waiting for him to appear again. But regardless of how much time I waited, he wouldn’t come. After a week had passed, it was time to return home. And indifferent to what I said, my sister, who thought it was all a dream, persuaded me to return.

I knew I couldn’t stay anymore, and I also knew I wouldn’t see him anymore, so I agreed to return home, without too much fuss.

The ride home wasn’t nearly as fun as the ride to the Islands, and I didn’t get to visit much either, but one thing I know for sure. I will never forget the night I met him. Even if no one believed me, and still I myself can’t understand what happened exactly, I can say with certainty that it was all real.

Since that day, whenever I get some free time from work, I return there, in hope that I will see him once again, and this time, I will surely go with him, wherever he takes me.