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Spirit Animal

Spirit Animal

It began on a chilly desert night, ten years ago.

“His spirit wolf jumped out from behind the bush and raised its claws at the enemy. What was once a fearless warrior, now trembled at the sight of this ghostly animal. But would he let him cross?” his mother read.

“The warrior had no choice. He had to let this young man pass or he would lose his life. So with his arms raised, he backed away,” I paused. A question dawned on me just then.

“How can I get my own spirit animal?” I asked my mother.

“You don’t need one, Roeman,” my mother answered.

“I do. How would I find this kingdom of gold if I don’t have one?”

My mother simply smiled before nudging me to continue reading. As I shuffled under the fur covers, I cleared my throat ready to finish the only book I owned. The story of a lone wolf that travelled the world in search for what he called heaven had been my bedtime story ever since I was born. I was never bored of it, and my eleven year-old self would agree.

“Suddenly, the earth shook and a…” my voice trailed off.

No words escaped my lips after that, as the world of my childhood hero began to fade away. My mother said nothing as well, and the two of us sat frozen. A few seconds later, my mother whispered, “Go to your bed and stay there till morning.”

Her order sent me to my feet as I jumped off my parents’ bed and ran to the other corner of our large tent. Peeking out of a series of folded cloth from the ceiling was a rope, and I quickly reached for it. When the rope extended downwards, I did not hesitate to climb up.

My father made that haven for me. It was a little nest held together by the folding of colourful cloths. No stranger would walk into our tent and realize a boy was resting in it, and no stranger did on that bloody night.

As quietly as I lay, I listened to the shouts, screams, and cries of my people. There were moments where I wanted to be a hero, but I knew I would only die trying. Not a muscle in my body moved as the horror continued when the barbarians entered my tent to steal from us. I heard them make a mess and after what felt like eternity, they left.

It was still dark outside, but I obeyed my mother’s last words and waited for the sun to arrive. The moment I could feel the heat of day, I climbed out of my nest and held back my tears. Denial was impossible the moment I left my chaotic home, as the blue morning sky could not hide the dead from my eyes.

The sand was soaked in red and the vultures had already began feasting. I wanted to look for my parents, but I did not want to confirm their deaths. So, I made up my mind to leave. With nothing left to take with me, I started my journey in hopes to escape the memory that has scarred me for years.

One step after another, I made it through where death had plague my people. I did not look back and I kept going forward. It might seem foolish to travel the harsh desert alone, but I desperately needed to leave the horror behind. Miraculously, my body lasted the day… but night, held a different fate.

As the wind blew a cold ghastly breeze, my fingers froze and my heart gripped with fear. The breeze was unusual and I knew what was coming. A sandstorm. There was no way I could survive a sandstorm. Realizing that I was done for, I fell on my knees and shut my eyes. I was ready to die; ready to be with my family again.

A rumbling sound grew and I felt a strong blow of wind brushing past my face. I expected myself to be buried within minutes, but strangely it was taking longer than it should. When I finally decided to open my eyes, I was immediately struck with awe. A pair of giant ghostly wings created a shield around me. Wind was swirling in this ball of protection, but not deadly enough to suffocate. I stood in shock for a very long time, and then I heard a voice.

I am yours. And you are mine.

It was deep and strong, yet gentle and delicate. When the sandstorm finally died down, the wings spread widely and the body of a giant eagle rose from the ground. It ascended into the night sky and hovered over me. Not really sure on what to say, I muttered, “I’m tired.”

As though it had heard me, it returned to the ground and wrapped its wings around me. There was a warm tingling sensation as I felt its ghostly embrace, but I dozed off too quickly to question what it was. When day arrived, my new friend flew above my head and led me to a magical oasis. It shaded me from the glaring sun and watched me as I devoured the bobbing fruits in the lake. It all felt surreal and I was convinced it was my spirit animal’s doing.

My spirit animal taught me to fight and hunt, and it sheltered me for years. It was also my compass, guiding me to a location I could only assume was the kingdom of gold. Now ten years later, it has finally brought me to where I should be. Standing on a sand dune and overlooking the river that split the endless desert and a glorious city, I could feel my heart pump in excitement. Unfortunately, something vile was standing in my way.

The river was guarded by the ones that murdered my people; they now stood between me and my new life. Pulling out my blades, I looked up at my protector. It had been a long journey and I was so ready to face my demons. Can one man take them all? No, but one man and his spirit animal can.

“I am yours. And you are mine.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________

We all have a spirit animal, but we only see it in times of trouble. What does it encompass? Our courage, faith, determination, and hope. Those traits that are a part of us makes up this beast that will fight by our side. But even though we have it with us, the journey of recovery will not be an easy one. Sometimes it will take us years just to face our demons, but no matter how long it may be, remember that you have what it takes to beat them. Fight for the kingdom of gold, you were born a fearless beast!

I hope you enjoyed this short story. Be sure to let me know what you think about it in the comments below!

© 2014 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)

 
8 Comments

Posted by on September 11, 2014 in Original Works

 

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FHB: Chapter 34

FHB Chapter 34

Tanya stopped her pleas as her eyes glistened with the fear of Lucius’ next move. There was a part of her that actually believed he would do it. Lucius could see it too, but he knew he was too weak. A coward, perhaps; too afraid of what his decision would do to him.

“The secret is to not hesitate,” the annoying death eater added.

Lucius was glad he hesitated, because at that moment he knew what he should do.

“I can’t,” Lucius whispered.

“What is it, Lucius?” the Dark Lord asked, as he took a step closer to him.

Lucius took in a deep breath, readying himself to defy an order.

“I-”

“Avada kedavra!”

A bright spark shot from behind them, whizzed past Lucius’ head and struck Tanya in the chest. The emotions in her eyes faded into a blank glare before her lifeless body hit the ground. In shock, Lucius stood frozen in place. He did not even attempt to look at the person who fired the curse as his mind tried to process what had happened. Tanya was dead and dead silence waited for someone to acknowledge the murderer.

“Ah, it is nice to see you on your feet again,” the Dark Lord said.

There was no reply to his words. Lucius wanted to see who it was, but he struggled to pull his eyes away from Tanya’s body.

“You should be resting, Abraxas,” the Dark Lord added.

Upon hearing his father’s name, Lucius managed to turn his head just enough to see his father giving the Dark Lord a bow. Silence continued on for a few seconds before the Dark Lord announced, “I’m feeling tired. Walk with me, Abraxas.”

Everyone, including Lucius, watched as the Dark Lord ascended the dungeon stairs with Abraxas right behind him. The moment both of them were out of sight, murmurs were exchanged. Everyone had something to say, but no one said anything to him.

Lucius stood statue-like as the other death eaters finished up the job. As his mind seeped into a world of emptiness, reality sped up around him. Spells were fired, ending the lives of the remaining aurors, and bodies were dragged to a corner, before the death eaters apparated with the dead, leaving Lucius behind. There was no one around to tell him what to do any longer and suddenly, he felt lost. Constantly having to choose, the lack of a choice disturbed him.

Standing in the lifeless dungeon as the cold air wrapped around his conflicted soul, Lucius completely lost track of time. A few hours later, he heard the dungeon door open and a series of hurried footsteps. He would have turned to see the stranger, but he didn’t know how. He had become too comfortable, stuck in the same dark and lonely place.

“Lucius!” the voice called out, as the footsteps hurried to his side. “Lucius, my dear boy.”

His mother reached out for him and pulled him into an embrace. The sudden warmth defrosted his petrified state and he slowly returned to his senses. When his mother released her grip on him, she reached for his wand, still tight in his grip, and took it from him.

“Are you alright? Talk to me, Lucius,” his mother asked worriedly.

“I knew her,” Lucius replied instead.

His mother did not say anything and waited for him to continue.

“Her name was… Tanya,” Lucius continued.

Lucius could not help but imagine everyone who knew her; the pain in their eyes when they learn about her death in a few hours. All her friends and teachers in Hogwarts would be in shock. Everyone had such high hopes for her, thinking she would become a great auror, but none of them would have expected death to take her so quickly. The worst part of it all was the fact that no one would ever know that Lucius watched her die. It was something he had to live with, a secret he had to keep from everyone who knew her. How was he going to do that?

“Mother,” Lucius said softly, “she was a friend.”

“Oh, my dear-”

“She was not your friend,” a voice echoed throughout the dungeon, interrupting what would have been comforting words to a distraught soul.

“You did this!” his mother accused.

“I protected him,” his father replied.

“No. You never did! You cursed our family,” his mother stated, “I should have taken Lucius and left many years ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” his father shot back with a question he could never retract.

His mother simply shook her head before storming off. Lucius watched her leave, wishing she took him with her.

“She’ll understand soon enough,” his father said.

No. She won’t. I don’t.

“You should have listened to me, Lucius. People you care about are only a liability.”

Like mother and me.

“Don’t make the same mistake again. And the next time the Dark Lord asks you to kill someone, do not hesitate.”

I won’t have a choice the next time. Lucius nodded.

“It’s late. Go to you room,” his father ordered.

Lucius retreated to his room as he was told to, but he could not find rest on a night as such. So, he took the family album off his wooden bookshelf and took a seat by the fireplace. He did not know what he hoped to accomplish looking at the family tree and old pictures, but he found that it distracted him.

Halfway through the album, he stumbled upon a picture of his father and the young Tom Riddle. Taking it out and turning it over, Lucius saw a message that read, ‘Don’t be mean, Malfoy.’ and it was signed by a girl named Joanna.

“I’m sorry, Joanna. I’m sorry you were a liability,” Lucius whispered, and then turning to look at the two people in the picture, he added, “I hate you.”

“I hate you both.”

In a swift motion with no hesitation, Lucius threw the picture into the flames and watched it burn. That was the only thing he did that he wanted to… for the rest of his life.

 
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Posted by on September 4, 2014 in Fan Fiction (Novel)

 

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Eulogy

eulogy

Paige Livre was the worst person I know. I knew her well enough and I can boldly say this. Paige was a selfish girl. She always thought about herself and contemplated on whether someone was worth her time. She was envious, always trying to compete with her friends and making a huge effort to outdo them. She was very vain, always standing in front of the mirror and spending hours just to be sure she looked better than anyone else. And she was prideful, always judging people and seeing them as inferior.

Paige was also hateful. You wouldn’t believe the ridiculous things she had announced hate upon. She hated the sun, because it was too bright and it made her sweat. She hated the sea, because its breeze would mess up her hairdo she spent hours on. She hated people, the ones that she could not see eye to eye with and the ones she just hated out of pride. She hated lifts that moved too slowly, she hated carton fruit juices that lied about containing real fruit juice, and she hated waiting for anyone and anything.

Seeing Paige everyday, I sometimes wondered if she had trouble dealing with all of those flaws. But I soon realized that all those flaws made her unique. Paige was a hateful person and the worst human being I’ve ever known, but she was also the best one I’ve ever met.

Paige Livre was the best person I know. She was very thoughtful, always thinking of ways to make someone’s day… even a stranger’s. She was positive, always encouraging those who had a hard time and constantly looking at the bright side of life. She was helpful, always putting aside her selfishness for those she cared about and going out of her way to put a smile on their faces. And she was careful with her words. She knew that words had the power to destroy and she tried her best to not say anything hurtful.

Paige was also loving. She loved the rain, because it gave her a chance to unwind with a hot cup of chocolate and a book. She loved the birds, because she always heard a song in their cheerful chirps. She loved the stars, because it gave her hope that tomorrow would be better. And most importantly, she loved people.

She loved her parents more than anyone else. She loved her father for begging the doctor to let her visit Disney Land. She loved him for pushing her wheelchair at the park and standing in line so that she could see her favourite Disney characters. She loved him for reading her stories on the nights when she was too weak to read to herself. She loved him for simply being there.

Paige loved her mother too. She loved her for trying to give her a normal life when things started to get rough. She loved her for driving her to the mall and to parties so that she would not feel left out. She loved her for preparing her favourite meals everyday, helping her get dressed, putting up with her random moments of tears and screams, and for hugging her when it hurt. She loved her for simply being there.

There was also a bunch of people she loved, and they were her friends. She loved them for visiting her and bringing her cards and balloons. She loved them for writing her encouraging notes with hope of her recovery. She loved them for sleeping over at the hospital to keep her company. And she loved them for hiding their tears from her. It was hard knowing her days were numbered, but her friends spared her the agony of seeing them in grief. She loved them for simply being there.

Being someone who knew she was dying was not easy on Paige. She had dreams she wanted to achieve, places she wanted to see, food she wanted to taste, and words she wanted to hear. But when she thought about all that she was missing out, she couldn’t help but think about all that she had gained. It was in that hard time that Paige learned to love herself.

She loved all her unique traits; the good and the bad. She loved how her teeth were not even and how her hair was always messy. She loved not being able to wear the colour yellow because it did not match her skin colour. She loved her healthy self when she could run, dance, and laugh, and she loved her sick self when she found it hard to speak, eat, and move.

Paige Livre died with love. The kind of death the world envies. That is all that matters, don’t you agree? I love you, Paige Livre. Thank you for the few good years.

That was it. I could not write anymore. There was a pain in my chest and my fingers were too weak to scribble another word. I wished I could reread what I just wrote, but my head was spinning and the words were starting to appear blurry.

As the monitor beside me beeped slowly, almost fusing into a single dead note, I began to wonder if that night was my last. Two days ago, my family and friends came to see me. They said I could let go and rest, but I couldn’t even utter a final goodbye when they walked out the door. I knew I had to leave them with something, so I gathered all the strength I had left and wrote my own eulogy. It’s not normal to write your own eulogy, but let me be the first.

Well, I guess I can close my eyes now. I hope that last page of my book would bring more smiles than tears. Goodnight Paige, goodbye world.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

As depressing as this story was, I want to leave you with a question; do you love yourself?

We are not perfect and there will be parts of ourselves that we dislike, but those imperfections make us unique. Understanding that we are special and loving ourselves for it, is what we should all do. It is definitely not easy as we are our own haters, but loving ourselves will make a huge difference in the way we view life. I hope you love yourself, but if you can’t, I hope you find a way :)

As always, let me know what you think of this story in the comments below! I would love to hear your thoughts and I hope you enjoyed it. 

© 2014 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)

 
12 Comments

Posted by on August 28, 2014 in Original Works

 

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Transitions & 5,100 Subscribers

transitions5100subs

First and foremost, I want to say a big thank you to all 5,100 subscribers.

If you are new here, thank you for giving my blog a shot. You might not know what to expect but I hope my work will impress you enough to keep you reading. If you have been here for quite some time, thank you so much for sticking around. Plenty of bloggers have come and gone, but you chose to stay. I really appreciate the support.

Seeing my subscriber count grow everyday is a huge encouragement. It reminds me to do my best for all of you. One reason I don’t give up on this blog is because I know I’m being read… and as a writer and blogger, that means a lot. I’m sure you all will agree on that.

So, thank you! Thank you so much!

Now, let’s talk about transitions.

Since I started my blog, it has gone through a couple of transitions. My blog first started as a place to promote my first novel, but it soon became a platform for me to deal with my post-potter depression; I started writing the Joanna Chen fan fiction and short fan fictions as a way to cope with the end of Harry Potter. But ultimately, it became a way for me to improve on my writing.

If you have been around long enough, you would remember the days where I don’t capitalize my i’s. Oh, wow. Jeyna, you cannot do that ever again! You would also remember writing or reading comments that brought to light my errors. Yes, I had plenty of those and I am very grateful for them. If no one said anything, I would not have improved at all. So old timers, thank you for being grammar Nazis.

Fan fiction was the focus on my blog for quite some time, until I decided to overcome my fear of being plagiarized and began publishing original works. I dropped the short fan fictions and began posting short stories and blog series’ such as Dr. Slubgob’s Letters and The Lucrative Business. I also tried a few reader interactive projects, but they failed. Well, one should not be ashamed of failure.

Now, I believe it has come to a point where another transition should take place. As some of you might have noticed, the FHB fan fiction is coming to an end. After which time, this blog will be completely focused on my own original fictional works. There will no longer be fan fictions. I’m sorry if that news disappoints some of you, but I think it’s about time I move forward. I am glad I started fan fictions and I’m glad many of you have come along for the ride, but I hope you would still remain on board with this new transition. There will also be a special project to kickstart this new phase, but I’ll write about it another time. This is actually one transition I’ve wanted to make for a while, and I would appreciate your continuous support. It means a lot to me :)

So, thank you in advance and thank you for reading this now. Also, thank you so much for all your comments, likes, shares, re-blogs, emails, and special features on your own blogs. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of readers and I hope that in the near future, I can look back and say, “Those early subscribers on my blog, they made a difference in my life.”

Thanks guys!

 
4 Comments

Posted by on August 26, 2014 in Others

 

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FHB: Chapter 33

FHB Chapter 33

“She was a student at Hogwarts,” Lucius replied.

“Someone you know?” the Dark Lord asked.

“I,” Lucius hesitated before continuing, “knew her. Yes.”

There was a short moment of silence that lasted longer than it was supposed to, before the Dark Lord spoke in a tone that was too friendly.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Lucius? We could have struck a deal.”

“I…” That was the only word that Lucius could think of at that moment. His head could not work quickly under the pressure of self-preservation. Before time could shove him into saying another word, Tanya’s voice echoed in the cold dungeon.

“I will never strike a deal with you,” Tanya spat. “You are a psychotic, cold-blooded murderer. A guiltless hypocrite who preach about blood purity but isn’t even a pure blood!”

Silence greeted them again, as though the dungeon had frozen from the cold air. No lips parted to utter a word, but all eyes were wide open.

“And what blood are you, child?” the Dark Lord asked Tanya rather calmly.

Tanya merely narrowed her eyes at him and glared boldly at the man so many people feared. The sorting hat must have placed her in the wrong house, because her bravery took Lucius by surprise.

With Tanya’s refusal to answer, the Dark Lord turned to Lucius instead. “What is her blood, Lucius?”

Lucius swallowed hard before he answered softly, “Muggle born.”

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that,” the Dark Lord said, as he and the death eaters waited for a clear answer.

“Mudblood,” Lucius quickly muttered.

The death eater Lucius loved to loath burst into a nervous laugh. “A Malfoy is friends with a mudblood? Wait till your father hears about this,” he said.

He was the only one bold enough to speak at that moment, but he immediately held his tongue when the Dark Lord surprisingly took Lucius’ side.

“We all make mistakes. I can even recall some of yours,” the Dark Lord said before turning to Lucius, “I’m sure you won’t make the same mistake again.”

Lucius was about to nod his head in reply when Tanya spoke on his behalf, “The only mistake is you, Voldemort.”

If one could die and resurrect as many times as they wished, Lucius would have done so uncountable amount of times in that very brief period. Having your heart constantly stopped by fear was the worst thing that can happen on your first day as a death eater.

“A fiery one, aren’t you?” the Dark Lord asked, still too calmly. His composure reflected a predator playing with its helpless dinner.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Tanya said with emphasis on all her words.

“You will make a great asset to my team,” the Dark Lord stated.

Tanya gave a false laughter before saying, “I would rather die.”

All Lucius could think of at that very moment was a dark hole, where he could climb into and stay hidden. He was afraid, afraid for his life and afraid for his parents’. He immediately regretted having met Tanya. The logic his brain could deduce was simple; if he had not befriended her, she would not be there, but even if she still ended up there, he would not know her. There would be no questions and death-defying answers, there would only be bodies and a warm bed to put Lucius to sleep after. Why did he choose to disobey his father? Lucius did not know. It was not intentional, but it happened anyway. Regret, that was all he had.

The Dark Lord chuckled in reply and began patting Lucius on the back. Lucius died and resurrected again as the Dark Lord reached into his coat and pulled out his wand. Everyone watched closely as the Dark Lord held Lucius’ wand in his hand.

“Lucius,” the Dark Lord said as he offered Lucius’ his wand, “it is only appropriate for you to grant your friend her final wish.”

Lucius wanted to ask if he had to, but his body worked in opposition to his want. As he took the wand, the Dark Lord gently guided his arm towards Tanya.

“Lucius, please don’t do this! This is not you!” Tanya urged.

“Go on, now,” the Dark Lord said.

There was so much hesitation, as Lucius tried to keep his arm up. He did not want to do it, but he had a feeling he had to. And when Lucius took too long to cast the curse, he heard someone shout, “Avada kedavra!”

Immediately, he turned his head to the right and saw a young auror at the end of the line slump dead to the ground. Tanya was in shock as much as Lucius was, and then it happened again. This time it was to his left, and another body fell lifelessly on the cold floor.

“It’s very easy, Malfoy,” the vocal death eater said. Lucius watched him as he did a stupid dance before shouting the killing curse at the boy right next to Tanya.

Tanya screamed in response as tears began streaming down her cheeks. “Please make this stop. Lucius, please make this stop!” Tanya pleaded.

Lucius knew he could not make it stop. He could either end her traumatizing experience or refuse to kill his only friend. The options he had were so limited, he wished his heart would stop and not beat again.

To Be Continued…

(Leave a comment or vote on whether Lucius should cast the curse or refuse to do so!)

 
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Posted by on August 21, 2014 in Fan Fiction (Novel)

 

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Dear Macy

Dear Macy

It was a dark afternoon. The clouds were thundering outside and the rain poured heavily. It was the perfect weather to work on my novel, so I grabbed my laptop from my bag and brought it to the fireplace.

My novel was called ‘BFF: Best Friend Fail’. It was about two best friends who grew up and did everything together, until they met a man. The man charmed the best friends and they both fell in love with him. Since they each could not give up on that man, they became rivals.

I know, it’s a rather cliché story, but my agent said there was a market for it. I finished writing the first draft a few weeks ago, and I was planning on improving it before sending it to my editor. Opening up the file on my laptop, I began with chapter one, ‘Dead Macy’.

No, that was not the title for chapter one. It was an error. I quickly changed the morbid word to ‘Dear’ and moved on. By the time night had fallen, I was done with five chapters and ready for bed. I also felt good about myself; only thirty more chapters to go!

The following morning, I decided not to waste any time and started on my novel right away. As I swallowed my buttered toast, I opened up the file and immediately groaned at what I saw. Those bold words did not seem to have saved the last time. After changing ‘Dead’ to ‘Dear’ again, I scrolled through what I had done the day before to check if the other changes were saved. Strangely they were, but I did not dwell on it much.

That day, I managed to go through ten chapters. By then I decided it was better to print it out and work on paper instead; I always wanted to be an English teacher. So before heading to bed, I hooked my laptop to the printer and left it to print while I snoozed.

When morning arrived, I put off working on my novel and decided to go for a walk. There was a small path behind my holiday cabin that led to a lake, and I was hoping for nature to inspire me. After my walk, I returned to the cabin and went straight to the printer. Rearranging the sheets of paper, I came across a word that was starting to annoy me. Quickly grabbing a red pen, I crossed out the word ‘Dead’ and wrote ‘Dear’ above it.

Checking my laptop after, I found that the error was still there. Frustrated that my laptop was acting up, I retyped the word, and printed the first page. I was confident this time, as I strutted to the printer only to find the same grim word.

Somehow having inkling that my laptop had revised itself again, I decided to ignore my novel all together and read a book instead. Maybe my eyes were playing a trick on me or maybe I was just too tired after my walk to the lake, whatever the reason was, I was not going to touch it that day.

Cuddling up on the couch as a light drizzle began, I let the crime novel take me on an adventure. Halfway through Detective Frigate’s theory on who murdered Lady Clitoria, my phone rang. Grunting at the disturbance, I pulled away from the Detective’s office and answered, “Hello?”

“Hey Rosy, how are you?” my friend asked.

“Good. I was reading. You interrupted Detective Frigate,” I replied

“Nice to know you’re feeling better,” my friend said with a chuckle.

Better? I was not sick, but I responded with a ‘thank you’ anyway.

“So, how’s the book going?”

“It’s going fine.”

“I heard you’re going to let Macy take credit for it.”

“Macy?”

“Sorry. I know, it’s too soon to be talking about her.”

I did not reply. I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Anyway, it’s good to hear from you. Jake said he could not reach you, so I was worried.”

“Jake?”

Who were these people she was naming?

“The guy that you and Macy always hung out with? The one Macy liked?”

“Oh, Jake,” I said. The conversation did not go on after that, because I became extremely disturbed by chapter one’s title. When my friend hung up, I went straight to the pile of printed words and read the first chapter again.

Chapter 1: Dead Macy 

My dead friend Macy was always kind and generous, but she was only kind and generous with strangers. With me, she had a habit of taking everything, even the man I liked. Too bad for her now. She’s gone and-

I could not read on. It was not what I had written a few weeks ago. Somebody had changed it. As I checked the rest of the chapters, I found one titled ‘Goodbye Jake’ and another ‘Daddy’s Funeral’. I had no recollection of writing any of it and I began to freak out.

Maybe I was sick. Maybe that was the reason my parents sent me away. Maybe that was why a doctor came this morning. What was his name? Doctor Lake? No, I took a walk to the lake. Did he ask me to? Wait, where am I? Where’s Macy?

We’re supposed to finish this novel together.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Occasionally, a random idea pops up in my head and I write it down. This story is one of them. There’s no ‘moral’ to it, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Do let me know what you think of it in the comments below!

© 2014 Jeyna Grace

(For more short stories, click HERE)

 
35 Comments

Posted by on August 14, 2014 in Original Works

 

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Poetic Milestone

poetic milestone

What should I say on a day like today? What right words should I put into play?
I know a simple thank you cannot do. So maybe something else in a similar hue?

In all honestly, I don’t know how to thank you all. Five thousand subscribers! That number is not small.
I must add something different in this special post. I have to try to be a more grateful host.

Maybe I should just say what’s on my mind? I’m sure those words will come out fine.
So please bear with me a little longer. Here comes more words from an indie author.

Firstly thank you for your time, dear reader. You’ve kept the dreams alive in this dreamer.
Thank you also for sparing a word and a thought. The monster of doubt, together we fought.

I truly appreciate all the support you have given me. If not for it, where would I be?
Even with all the ups and downs, your presence has made a smile from a frown.

I hope you will continue to be by my side, even if this journey has an unpredictable ride.
Surely you know that there is no fun, if the dragon is slain by a party of one.

Alas, the climb to the peak is still a long way and my adventure is only starting today.
But I’m ready for whatever tomorrow brings, even if the bee stings at the late arrival of Spring.

I pray my words will inspire much more, as I try to be better than I was the day before.
My dream is not impossible and yours aren’t too. So believe in yourself and don’t let fear stop you.

Let’s continue to dream together. With our passion, we can always go further.
Let’s toast to a greater future, and thank you once again for supporting my endeavour.

 Signed, Jeyna Grace © 2014
 
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Posted by on August 12, 2014 in Others

 

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