The angel I waited for


Helloooeeee guys! Long time no see? That was what I was thinking too! Since  I had become so uncreative and lazy nowadays, a friend of mine and I decided to bring back our creativity by writing a short story each. And this was my attempt at returning as a writer (though it didn’t work out that well).. Anyway, enjoy the story. 🙂


Walking through the lavishly paved road, I came to a halt where a tiny street intersected.

This was the place.

I stood there, watching people hurry to work; the cars on the road honked none too gently, and the impatient bikes made their way through the gaps in between.
The sun shone brightly upon the land beneath, and I raised my face, as though I could feel the vitamin D seep through my skin.

It was a busy day. Little girls with tiny gowns stood waiting for their school bus to pick them up. I stood there still, waiting.

What was I waiting for?

I did not know.

In fact, I did not know anything. I had been coming to this place everyday since I woke up all alone in that dirty place, knowing I’d get some clue about something I might need from my old life.

I didn’t even remember who I was.

I had found my phone, and in that, there was a reminder.. reminding me to visit that place everyday.

Why would I have visited that place everyday? It was just an ordinary road anyway.

But something inside me told me it wasn’t.

When I woke up from oblivion a few days ago, I had found myself in a dirty place, fully beaten up; beside me were someone’s divorce papers – perhaps they were mine; I had also found a bag full of money, enough to last a lifetime. If I really wanted, I could’ve started a new life; gotten all that I needed.

But some part of my brain disagreed. It told me there was something that I needed much more than money.

Just then, a little girl came down the cramped lane and walked towards her friend. Her skin was pale, yet healthy. Her eyes, innocent.

And those wide-open eyes were looking for something. She looked at the tree beside her, then at the traffic, and then…

At me.

When those tiny eyes met mine, she froze. So did I.

And with that one look at her, I knew. She was everything I needed.

I even realized why I would want to come here everyday. Though I didn’t remember her, didn’t recognise who she was, I knew she was the one for whom I had been living.

She was certainly worth waiting for every morning.

She was my daughter.

The right man


I had a writer’s block so solid that I needed to write something to break it. And now that I have done, here’s what that ‘something’ is. Goodbye, writer’s block!

Happy valentine’s day!

Untying the fragile veil around the lower part of her face and placing it beside her, she swayed her feet gently in the water, sending ripples through the serene surface; the ripples followed each other in sync, carving beautiful concentric circles into the translucent liquid.

As the ripples faded, the water revealed a dull reflection of a pretty maiden. The maiden’s face bore a slight cut where her left cheek met her chin. The stark red mark spoke of inexperienced ventures, and of grave rejections.

She sighed, tucking her fair locks of hair behind her ears; the mark at her cheek was now portrayed clearly, sending a jolt of pain through her heart. Rejection washed over her like a wave of fueled fire, hot in the lungs, and she drew in a sharp breath to keep her insides from burning out.

The man whom she had fantasized as her hero for so many days, the man whom she had imagined spending numerous nights with, had in a flash, declared that he would not marry her. Though it had been several months since he had said that, she felt its pain, original and fresh, every single day.

The denial felt so surreal, and her dreams felt so real, now that she was seated by the dreamy lakeside. A glimmer of hope never ceased to exist; that he would come running to her one day, enfolding her in his consoling arms.

If not for the slash on her face, he would have.

As her beautiful blonde strands tumbled down her back, he looked longingly at her. She was the little reason that he still aspired to live; the only thing to look forward to.

Behind that delicate veil of hers, she was truly stunning. He had only once seen what was inside her veil, and that was when he felt his virility take over. A platonic desire, yet deeply carnal.

She was the benevolent sun of his day, the flicker of starlight guiding him through the night. His very own angel, albeit a distant one. Her captivating curves were unexplored places of joy, and every delicate move she made affected him like she held his life in her slight fingers.

If not for the tiny mark on her face, he would have never seen things differently. If not for her unfortunate scar, he would’ve never dared to dream, even though a surreal, an almost impossible one.

Beautiful as she is, she aspired to capture the heart of another man, he knew very well, but his heart kept reaching out to her.

He wanted to go running to her, wipe out her sorrows and enfold her into his strong arms. He wanted her to feel what he felt beneath his mortal skin; he wanted to share that moment of ecstatic pleasure with her.

If only she would turn and spare him a smile… for now. He knew that he could pass another decade with it.

She felt movement behind her, and almost deceived herself. She couldn’t help hoping that it was her man, the reason of her burdened living. Her agile senses told her it wasn’t him, but her heart hoped… that he would return, that he would apologize, that he would take her away.

Before she lost hope, she swept her gaze around the lake. And not very far behind her, she caught sight of a man whom she seemed to know, perhaps from a distant dream. She managed a weak smile, for she did not want to look as devastated as she actually was.

The young man smiled back, a grim one at that; he then chose to stare right into her fathomless eyes, from the distance, which was so intense that it went deep into her soul where he resided. There was no place for another in her soul, and the man who had captured it had rejected it for all she was worth.

Whether he tried to alter something with his probing eyes, she knew not, but she felt something did change, for, she realized she never averted her gaze from his. And locking one’s gaze with a man’s was never a casual deed. 

She averted her eyes to the lush grass below, embarrassed about what she had done. But she still felt the man’s eyes probe her as she sat by the tranquil lake. His thoughts seemed so disturbing that they sent a never-ending series of ripples through the water.

She glanced at the lake, to confirm if it was real. But no, the water looked calm and quiet, and reflected the same sullen face of a young woman. The ripples were now forming in her mind, like they always had.

Her mind was never once calm, never once settled; ever since the man of her dreams had uttered no, it was in turmoil. Ripples clouded her thoughts, and the once-clear dreams – the rapturous ones – that her mind conjured up were now a rippling blur.

She had thought that she would be alright, but she realized that her soul had been bruised for life. She will never be able to move on. He was the center of her gravity, and she was a desperate object, clinging onto his memories for dear life. He was the source of love, and he was the only one who mattered.

Even if all the water in this earth was extinguished, even if the sun came down to swallow the earth, her love for him would never change.

She had been admiring the grass for too long, never once looking back at him. He knew he should’ve expected this much from her, but it pained to know that she did not think of him more than she would think of the grass beneath her.

He knew that her love for the other man was great – so much that even if the water in this earth was extinguished, even if the sun came down to swallow the earth, her love for him would never change.

But with the intervention of a man, it could.

He stepped closer, painfully slow in his movements,  so as to give her time to act. 
He knew very well about her; he could judge her every act before it happened, he could guess what she would do without a doubt. She was not predictable in what she did, but he always knew.

To love is not a slight matter, after all. He knew her very well, and for that, he loved her more. And with every passing minute, his love for her grew twofold. With every smile of hers, with every grimace, with every move of the finger, his heart picked up.

And now, he knew she would step away. She had never before allowed a man reach out to her, and he knew she will remain so. Still, he advanced, knowing she would step away, just to give her a hint – a hint that he was worried about her.

Her gaze shifted from the grass to him, and he could not help suppress a smile curve itself on his face. Her eyes locked once again with his; last time, her eyes were cautious and wary, but now, he found a renewed purpose, a strong ambition in them. Something that startled him to his very core.

Something that questioned the Mr.Know-it-all within him. Something that he had not seen in his life-time. Something that shook him and his instincts like the ripples that shook the water surface.

Her eyes cast a spell upon him, binding him to the ground. A fleeting thought told him that even his brother was not graced with such a look from her. They drew him like he was a slave – and he had willingly surrendered to them – and ordered him to never let go.

And he held on, like the slave he was.

She slowly got up, never once turning away from him; she had never thought it possible – that a man could love her more than she ever loved him. But now, in this man’s eyes, she saw love in its purest form – something that he did not grace her with.

She saw a longing in those eyes; those that set her soul on fire, burnt it to ashes, and melted the remains. There was a new-found home evident in them, all thanks to the ugly scar her cheek was sporting.

She had never once dared to face anyone without her veil; she knew she looked ghastly. But this man loved the real her, she realized; he loved the mark along with her. And to such love, she never hid her true self.

He stood there, transfixed by her stare; she took a few steps towards him, away from the lake, judging his every thought. She slowly took a few more steps to the side, till she was well away from him. All the while, his eyes kept following her, every movement of his eyes pierced her, as if he was touching her with its intensity.

Suddenly, she felt exposed. Neither her thick fabric, nor her skin could protect her from his demanding gaze; his gaze was like fire, enfolding her within its flaming confines. He could see through her, it seemed, and very well so. She melted under the scorching fire, although never yet surrendering. She convulsed and swirled within its boundaries, and it simply held her captive.

She was a slave now. To the fire that was his gaze, she had fallen.

And with this realization fresh in her burning mind, she averted her gaze from his and hurried away. Before the fire could get to her, before it could burn her, she knew she had to act fast. Wounds of fire never quite healed, like the fortunate scar her cheek bore.

Drops of rain began falling to the ground. He stood there, the least bit concerned about his getting drenched. She was the cause for the rain, the only thing that possessed the power to put out the fire in him. She had responded to his feelings, and it would not be long before she realized they were suppressed-up feelings of old.

Something had changed that day. He knew not what it was, but the feeling was there – so fresh, so real. Something had changed within her, something had changed about the way she viewed him. Something had changed between them, and the change was permanent.

A tiny part of him had managed to escape into the depths of her soul, and he liked it back there. And for the first time in years, she had tried entering the confines of his heart, and had never quite left.

For the first time in their lives, they had exchanged love. Through their eyes. And this feeling between them had been so intense that it would mean either of the two in the near future – it would either kill him entirely, else, would be the sole reason for him to live henceforth.

He hoped it had better not be the former. The lightning in the skies assured him of the positive outcome, as the downpour proceeded to extinguish his fire totally, soaking his thoughts as it did.
Days later…

She dared not remove her veil, even while alone. The fishes would see it, and she did not like a reflection that showed her how ugly she truly was.

She looked like a demon without it, she knew. Everyone had said so. The man she loved had said so. But one thing that confused her, was that he never seemed to care. The rejection crippled her, and she knew it was all because she wasn’t beautiful enough.

Now this man had replaced the man she’d craved for since that fine day, and she could think of none but him. The true love that his eyes held, the long stories that they told, the secrets that they held… it was too much for her.

She looked back at the reflection in the water. And, instead of seeing a veiled young woman, she saw a face that she so craved to see… it was him.
She instantly turned back, and saw that he was standing right behind her. On seeing her, his lips carved themselves into an affectionate smile. She smiled back, careful to conceal the fact that she was melting inside.

He gestured her to get up.

She took in a deep breath. It was about time she confessed her love to him. She got up slowly, and took a step towards him closing the aching space between them, till she felt his breath mingle with hers. His breath was tattered, she realized, from the evident intimacy. 

She looked up and stared into the depths of his eyes, only to realize there was no room for anyone there – except for her. She was in the midst of a brain-numbing epiphany: this man was her man, and not the other that she had constantly been thinking about. She had always been wrong, she had always failed to understand true love.

And this time, she knew she had finally found her man. And that was all that mattered, in the end.

Bravery in her veins


Franesca’s grasp tightened over her Glock. Her hand quivered, as she inched it towards the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Not your business,” the man replied curtly.

His ominous eyes were fixed on hers, probing the depths of her souls for answers she didn’t know. Then, in a swift move, he took out his Beretta and pointed it to her head.

Franesca stifled a gasp.

“Listen,” he said, snatching the gun from her hand and pocketing it, “this is a bad time for you to test my patience. Where is the key?”

Mr. Felton had told her that the key would be in closet number five. And Franesca knew too well what that closet contained – ammo. “Tell me who you are!”

By then, the man had lost all patience. “Look, woman. I’ll ask you one thing. 
Do you want to stay alive?”

At his death glare, Franesca’s survival instincts kicked in and she nodded involuntarily.

“Good. Then give me the key.”

The key.

A distant voice rang in Franesca’s head: ‘The moment a man will come asking for a key, will be themoment, my child. Do not let it go.’ It was the prophecy-teller she so believed in.

The time had come. Franesca slowly pressed a button at her belt and looked at the man in the eye. “Wait a moment, then.” She knew that she had to activate the bomb right away. Else, this man would bomb an entire city… or so her prophecy-teller had told her.

“Bring it right away!”

“No, we are going elsewhere.” She had already executed the suicide attack.

For the first time, the man looked baffled. “Where on ear–”

An ear-numbing explosion shook the place.

Whose love cannot be replaced


Karen sighed. She didn’t have the patience anymore to face the empty home that greeted her with nothingness every day, as her step-parents worked till late nights and scurried away to their offices early in the mornings. She didn’t even have the time to say a proper ‘hello’ to them, considering their never being at home most of the time.

Hitching her schoolbag over her back, and sighing once again, Karen hurried forward, away to the outskirts of town. She was free at last – free from the shackles of mockery that her friends failed not to bind her with and a prison of a school.

Karen glanced sideways on the road, at a trio who licked their ice-creams, laughter booming from within each of them as an unsaid private joke was being enjoyed – and Karen smiled – this was a first in many months, since the merry laughter of the trio was not directed at her; this was her only reason to smile.

Of course, she thought. The only cause of laughter among the people couldn’t be the mockery of her. There had to be other genuine reasons to laugh, too. But the constant ridicule that she received from her schoolmates made her think that whenever someone burst out into laughter, it was because of her clumsiness, or any other trait pertaining to her. It had to always be her.

But today, as she saw the harmless laughter bubbling up from the adolescents, she gathered up her courage and walked up to them.
The only boy in the little group looked up at her and smiled. Karen’s heart beat fast, wanting to get lost in the moment forever. But alas, that moment could not last.

“Who are you?” he had asked her.

Someone had just spoken something inoffensive to her.

Karen simply grinned at the boy.

“Girl. Stop drooling at my boyfriend.” The girl standing to his left snapped at her.


It was a rich word that Karen could not quite afford into her vocabulary. Boyfriends, shopping, malls, fun, parties, night-outs, sleepovers, gossip, friends, dates, prom – none of these were in the affordable side of Karen’s boundary.

Should she even be denied of hospitality?

She looked up at the girl, perplexed. “I am sorry.” At the end of the day, she had ended up using the same phrase she would have used against her bullies at school; the outskirts of town was certainly not worth escaping into.
She then dared a look into the depths of the boy’s fathomless eyes. They were soft and kind, and she couldn’t see any ill will there, but she certainly did in those of the girl beside him.

His gaze, in return, pierced directly into her soul, ripping it apart, tearing it to shreds, setting it on fire, reducing it to ashes and then left her eyes abruptly without even a feeling of remorse. Ever-so-innocently.

The two girls beside him seemed oblivious to the ardent gaze exchange that he had just had with Karen. Within seconds, the color of his eyes drained, and he returned to his former self. “Who are you?” he repeated, this time, irritation evident in his voice. “What do you want?”

If falling in love at the first gaze was plausible, then Karen had just experienced that. Her eyes peered into the depths of his soul again through his eyes, seeking the warmth and kindness that oozed out towards her that he had painfully suppressed moments ago.

“Wherever has it gone?” she whispered unconsciously, earning odd looks from three pairs of eyes.

The boy surely thought that she was a freak – just like the others did. She willed him not to look oblivious to what she was searching for, but he remained that way. He knew not what she had been searching for.
Even she did not know what she had been seeking all these days, unless she had found it – love.

A lone voice rang clearly in her head, clear as a bell: “Karen, my baby!” It was that of her mother.

Eyes brimming with moist, she turned away and walked back the way she came, while the salty beads of tears rolled down her cheeks in abundant quantities. Her feet took her to a deserted alleyway, where she broke down and cried until her eyes were dehydrated of moisture.

She wanted her mother. Badly.

Writing non-stop for 400 words: writing101


Where a kind princess once lived…

Amelia was a princess who loved to visit the shore of her kingdom. She always went with her best friend, who happened to be her maiden, Diana. One day, as they were walking along the sea-shore, Amelia spotted something from afar—a huge ship was approaching towards their kingdom.

Amelia, at that time, didn’t know whether to be excited or nervous. They had to first get to know if the team of people approaching them were allies who were giving them a surprise visit, or their foes, who were planning on declaring sudden war.

But, as the ship fast approached, and Diana ran towards the castle to inform their king about the mysterious ship they knew nothing about, Amelia stood there, transfixed, admiring the beauty of the gigantic ship that began to appear larger as it came nearer.

As Amelia stood looking, the ship anchored at a good few metres from the shore and one of them got down, with three others behind him. The man stood out from the others, and wore expensive clothing, Amelia could tell, from the looks of it.

As he approached her, he asked, “Madam, can you tell us if there is any space left for a few travellers to stay in your kingdom? We will not live more than a day or two.”

The other three men stood baffled at what their master, apparently, had just uttered. “But master…” One of them dared to prompt him.

But the young man waved the man off, showing that he knew what he was doing, and there was no need of any advices. The man stayed silent.

“Madam?” The young man prompted Amelia.

“Oh,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts. “Your ship looks very much like the one that the kingdom of Genovia owns, sire, so I had thought for a moment that we were going to be attacked.”

“We are from Genovia,” said one of the three men behind the kind young man, earning a glare from him.
“You are?” Amelia gasped at the revealation and turned to run back to the castle and inform her father, when she felt a soft tug at her hands.

“Worry not, young lady,” said the kind-looking traitor. “We’re not here for war.”

Amelia turned towards him, wanting to know why they’d come all the way along. “And?”

“I’m here, to make you my queen.”

“And about the war?” One of the three bodyguards, it seemed, of the prince of Genovia asked.

“This young lady here,” he said, “has made the war unnecessary. Let us just leave with her, if she permits to let us take her.”

Amelia was stunned, and was speechless. “You’re Genovia’s prince?”

“Yes, and will you be my queen?” He stood on his knees. “I don’t want a war, if I can have a beautiful woman as you as my wife.”

Amelia held his hand gently, and made him stand up. “Dear prince, I’m delighted we need not fight anymore. Let’s make peace between the two kingdoms, come talk to my father, who happens to be the king.”


P.S: I have cheated a bit – sorry, it’s a habit of mine to press backspace when I think some word doesn’t make sense. “Old habits die hard” right?

Anyway, sorry about that. It doesn’t seem senseless because I probably backspaced at least ten words. I just went with the story, though. 😀

How I unintentionally helped Mrs. Pauley



A short story written in first person, in the point of view of a twelve year old boy for writing 101: writing challenge.



I was playing with my new plastic bat in my lane when I heard a voice beside the house I stood. The voice made me stop playing and eavesdrop.

“I will somehow try to pay it within a month, sir, please give me some more time.” The desperate cries of a woman tore through the otherwise silent air, as I stood there, motionless. It was Mrs. Pauley.

I slowly peeked through their gate and let my eyes wander. Sure enough, I saw Mrs. Pauley, sobbing hard, with some sturdy looking old man and a cop.

What are they trying to do to her?

I slowly tiptoed to the other side of the gate to get a clear view and a clear idea of what they were talking about. It looked like Mrs. Pauley couldn’t handle paying the rent for her house as she lived alone.

Mr. Pauley had his cancer operation done after it had reached its advanced stage, knowing no hope was left. That operation took two things from the Pauleys, mother had said. Their hard earned money, and Mr. Pauley’s life.

However, Mrs. Pauley wasn’t someone who surrendered to the depression that threatened to suck her in. She still wore a happy smile and sent all her six sons out to work, as they were short on money.

Mother said that Mrs. Pauley was a kind hearted woman and she prayed for Mrs. Pauley’s sons to return soon with whatever amount of money they have made.

“Okay, Mrs. Pauley.” A rough voice made me snap to reality. “We shall see this weekend. If your money is not returned by then…”

The next thing I experienced was the gate smashing right against my nose as the sturdy man barged out, with the cop following closely behind.

“See you this weekend, ma’am,” said the cop as the duo barely noticed me.

Mrs. Pauley didn’t have any money to buy me candies anymore? Oh,no! That would be a great issue!

I went straight to the phone stand at the far end of the lane and took out the only coin I possessed. I put it into the slot and held receiver tight.

“Hello?” The person on the other end of the line answered.

“Hey Brian, it’s me,” I said, knowing the youngest of the Pauleys would surely recognize my voice.

And immediately I got a response. “Hey, dude, what’s up?”

“Something bad has happened,” I told him, as I knew I wouldn’t get candies from her every weekend. “Mrs. Pauley needs money urgently, and you must come with whatever you have.” I hung up immediately.

“Good job, son.” A familiar voice said from behind, helping me put the receiver back onto the stand. “Mrs. Pauley does need money, and she wouldn’t tell her sons and make them suffer.”

I smiled, as mother ruffled my hair affectionately. “I had to do it, mother.”