By: Opal Lin
DECEMBER 9TH, 2003
02:49 a.m. I don’t remember what happened; it all happened so quickly that it was almost peaceful.
02:53 a.m. I made my way down the spiral staircase. I couldn’t see anything – it was so dark I couldn’t
make out my own shadow.
02:55 a.m. I finally made my way into the living room under the guidance of the eerie moonlight.
02:56 a.m. The old and worn sofa seemed so welcoming and inviting I couldn’t help but fall into its
cushion full of softness.
07:17 a.m. I woke up to the familiar scent of cinnamon pancakes. I lazily crawled away from the sofa and
stumbled into the kitchen like I always did.
07:18 a.m. My mom was lying helplessly on the floor – weeping. I cried out in shrill horror but she did
not look up.
07:20 a.m. I waited patiently and silently before I reached my hand out to touch my mother, only to find
out that I couldn’t feel her; I couldn’t feel the touch of anything.
07:21 a.m. I stared hopelessly at both of my hands. I did not understand; why couldn’t I feel anything?
Why couldn’t my mother hear me?
08:01 a.m. I mindlessly sat on the sofa I slept on earlier. The lingering question still haunts me: what has
happened to me?
09:05 a.m. There was a slight knock on the front door and I watched my mother helplessly push herself
up from the kitchen floor – where she was unmoved for over an hour – to answer the door.
09:07 a.m. I anxiously pulled my hair when I saw that there were three police officers standing in the
front door. I hid behind my mother like a little girl I used to be, nervously waiting to hear what the
officers had to say.
10:24 a.m. My mother’s face grew paler and paler every minute. I could barely hear what the officers had
to say anymore. My eyes were blurring, my hearings started to fade and I could remember – or see – was
last night’s event playing in the back of my mind.
DECEMBER 8TH, 2003
11.36 p.m. It was a cold winter night, colder than I had remembered from the previous years. The pool
was now frozen solid and the chirping birds had already flown away. I lied on my bed holding the book
Oliver Twist, while trying to juggle a cup of warm milk in my other hand.
01:59 a.m. The time did not discourage me into letting go of the book since I was determined to finish it
before the sunrise.
02:04 a.m. There was a soft but audible thud from downstairs which made me jump, causing the
untouched cup of milk to spill all over my blanket.
02:06 a.m. I cursed throughout the whole time I walked down the spiral staircase in search of a new
blanket to last me through the cold winter night.
02:11 a.m. Thud. I called out into the darkness, did father come home early from his business trip?
02:12 a.m. There was no reply, let alone a sound. It was probably Whiskers, playing with a ball of yarn in
the middle of the night. I bet that old cat couldn’t sleep either.
02:18 a.m. After I found an extra sheet of blanket, I crept up the stairs quietly in case everyone else in the
house was already asleep.
02:20 a.m. My bedroom door was swung open. I paused, not remembering leaving it opened. I shrugged,
figuring it was the lonely winter wind.
02.21 a.m. I-I couldn’t breathe -- two big hands grabbed me by the shoulders and I stifled a silent cry for
help but the hands gripped bones so tightly my knees went weak and I was unable to let out more than a
mere squeak.
02:22 a.m. I was a weak, weak man who lost an unknown battle.
02:32 a.m. The pain of having my hands tied behind my back was all I ever thought about at that
moment.
02:33 a.m. Stop, I scolded myself. Stop worrying so much about the pain and focus on what is going on.
My eyes were covered with what seemed to be a kitchen table cloth; I couldn’t see anything. But I could,
however, hear muffled voices in the background.
02:47 a.m. I began feeling sore all over. My back and arms were aching, and I just wanted to scream in
pain and agony. Instead, I let out a groan in defeat.
02:48 a.m. The voices… they were back. Please, I silently beg, please don’t hurt me.
02:49 a.m. There was a loud thwack and I fell into a deep sleep, never to wake again.
DECEMBER 9th, 2003
10:28 a.m. I wanted to reach out to her, tell her I was fine, that she should move on with her life. But I
couldn’t… because I was dead.
10:29 a.m. I was dead. Like the meat in the frozen solid in the refrigerator. I looked over to my mom,
who looked deader than I was.
10:30 a.m. One of the police officers now step forward which caught my attention. He spoke slowly and
with caution that the burglars were yet to be caught but he promised to keep my mother updated if they
found anything.
10:32 a.m. The police officers bid my mother good-bye and offered their sympathies before walking out
the door.
10:33 a.m. Part of me wanted to stay here with my mother and comfort her, but the other half… I was
furious. What had I done to deserve to be so brutally murdered?
10:34 a.m. I wanted my revenge.
10:35 a.m. I couldn’t… I can’t. I had to stay with my mother. I didn’t know how much longer I would be
able to stay with her.
10:44 a.m. I paced back and forth, watching my mother on the phone with my father. I listened to her
as she explained – lips trembling – how three burglars broke into the house in the middle of the night in
search of money but ended up leaving the house empty-handed… and ended my life.
10:51 a.m. The house phone rang and my mother spoke in rapid French with my father before she hung
up and answered the telephone.
10:56 a.m. My mother ended the call and dragged herself upstairs.
11:48 a.m. My mother – all dressed in black – managed maintained her balance as she walked down the
staircase slowly. She had decided that she did not want my body to be investigated and wanted a proper
Christian burial right now since my body was not in a, well, “good” condition.
12:45 p.m. I had always been curious who would show up to my funeral and ironically, my wish was
granted.
12:26 p.m. Polished town cars came to a stop in front of the church and out stepped my mother’s friends
in black pump heels holding sleek black leather bags. My father’s friends in black suits stepped out sports
car – they too, were looking sleek.
12:54 p.m. I was flustered not seeing any of my friends showing up. Then again, it was a school day. But
still, did I mean little importance to them? I couldn’t decide.
12:59 p.m. I was about to go inside the church to eavesdrop on some conversations when a silver
Mercedes Benz came to screeching stop. I froze.
01:00 p.m. Grandma.
01:01 p.m. I haven’t been in contact with Grandma for years. I often wondered if it was something I did
or if in a positive light, she was too busy. Right.
01:02 p.m. My hands were starting to get sweaty and I angrily stomped over to her. The woman had guts
I’m telling you. Of all the days in the past, she decided to visit me when I was dead.
01:03 p.m. The frail old woman held onto her driver – wait, make that bodyguard – to help her walk.
I observed her thoroughly: her white hair was expensively cut, her face was practically wrinkle-free
compared to woman her age and she had the new Hermès Birkin handbag. Life was so unfair.
01:05 p.m. I followed my Grandma into the church, surprised that all the seats were full. Huh, people did
care about me after all. When Grandma walked in, everyone fell silent; and all the men who were busy
typing on their Blackberry screens looked up and glanced at her nervously and all the women who were
busy gossiping smiled at her awkwardly.
01:06 p.m. I chuckled to myself; Grandma always had those kinds of affect on people. The priest finally
cleared his throat and began.
01:10 p.m. Four minutes into the ceremony, I started feeling lightheaded. I dismissed my sudden
dizziness by carefully survey the room. I noticed that people were starting to get bored; some were rolling
their eyes, while others just simply stared into outer space. I crossed my arms and gave them a death glare
but they didn’t seem to notice. Of course they didn’t.
01:11 p.m. In addition to my ongoing dizziness, the sunlight that poured through the church’s stained
glass window was blinding me. I stared at the light, mesmerized. The more I squinted my eyes, the more
beautiful and blinding it became until I-I couldn’t s-see anything.
01:12 p.m. I blocked out the light with my right hand and cast one last look at everyone. My mother
looked like an angel but without the halo. I wished my father a good health and blessed God to be with
my step brother. I touched my heart gently with my left hand and silently forgave Grandma for not being
here all these years. I blinked, not sure if whether I was hallucinating or not, but a tear slid down her
delicate cheeks. I shook my head and smiled, turning back to focus on the light.
01:13 p.m. With all the strength I had left, I opened my eyes one last time. The light was beautiful.
AFTERWORDLIGHT: In the end, my friends did show up. I watched the whole ceremony from
Heaven. It was beautiful gathering. Everyone had a white lily tied with a gold ribbon in their hands
which they happily kept in their houses to remember me by. My mother – always so thoughtful. She
did get better, although she would turn bitter once in a while, but at least she had my father and step
brother to help her get through. As for the burglars, I daresay they did not live a happy life. The ending
to Grandma’s chapter was not a happy one either. Grandma fell ill and was told that she was not going to
make it. I could see her struggling to stay alive but when she was ready, I will be here, waiting for her to
see the same light I did.
The Great Wall
By: Augustine Lesiuk
Injured, but not weakened, Sanyo kicked his enemy in the head with his hind legs. After he
killed the human, Sanyo took a breather to observe his surroundings. The battle was nearly over; the
rest of the human warriors began retreating from the centaurs. Unfortunately for them, the centaurs
could catch up to finish them off.
“Heh, pathetic fighters they are, soon we will be able to take over their capital,” said a
familiar voice.
“Tensop? You survived? I thought that human archer got you,” said Sanyo.
“A minor graze, my leather armor managed to stop the arrow in time,” said Tensop.
“Then fortune smiles on you my friend,” said Sanyo.
“Yes indeed, fortune smiles to us all. If you excuse me, I’ll be helping the rest cleaning up the
battle field,” said Tensop.
As Tensop galloped away, Sanyo looked over at the horizon. He could see the human’s
capital city, a huge beautiful city sitting on top of a hill.
After we rest from this battle, taking over that city will not be a problem and once we
conquer that city, conquering the rest of the human’s land will be a breeze. Sanyo thought.
At night, the centaur army celebrated their recent victory in their camp with ale and
entertainment. Sanyo, half drunk, went to his tent where his wife, Knives, was waiting for him.
“How’s my big soldier doing?” said Knives.
“Tired and drunk… I did poorly in battle today,” said Sanyo.
“Really? You didn’t get to kill over 10 like you boasted?”
“Didn’t even get to 5,” said Sanyo.
“Well, maybe you’ll get much more once you fight in their capital,” said Knives.
Suddenly Sanyo and his wife began hearing angry shouts outside their tent. Sanyo
immediately galloped out and found that the shouting came from a group of centaurs arguing with
each other. He found Tensop who was also shouting.
“What’s going on?” said Sanyo.
“A messenger came, our warlord wants us to return home,” said Tensop.
“What?! We are soo close to the capital, why does he want us to fall back?”
“Apparently he wants us to take over another centaur clan who just happened to be
attacking ours.”
“But the warlord should have enough warriors to defend…”
“He wants us to TAKE over the other clan, not defend from it,” said Tensop.
Sanyo wanted to continue arguing, but he knew they all have to follow the warlord’s order.
Not doing so means death penalty.
And so the centaur army packed their camp and made their journey home, leaving the
human capital unharmed and unscratched.
A fight between centaurs is more horrendous than a fight between humans. Once Sanyo’s
group finally returned home they immediately began fighting the other centaur clan. Every day
Arrows fly in the air, swords and shields bashed against each other, the ground soaked by blood.
“There’s their camp, take it over!”
And after 3 weeks of fighting, Sanyo’s clan was victorious. Once they took their enemy’s
camp they chopped off the clan’s warlord head to present it to their own warlord. Sanyo was picked
to present the head.
“You have done well soldier,” said the warlord.
“I’m grateful for the honor of meeting you in person sir,” said Sanyo.
“I’ve heard that you wanted some kind of permission?” said the warlord.
“Yes sir. For the last two weeks, I’ve heard that the human capital had been building a wall.
The wall has not yet been complete, but it concerns me on what will happened once it’s finished. I
would like permission to attack the city before the wall is complete,” said Sanyo.
“Ha Ha Ha! You don’t need to worry about that wall. My scouts have reported to me that the
humans are losing quite a lot of resources and manpower trying to build it, it’ll take them at least a
year to finish anything threatening,” said the warlord.
“But sir, it’s still a wall…”
“Right now we have more important matters to take care of. There’s another battle between
two other centaur clans. I want to seize this opportunity to take over both those clans when they are
weakening,” said the warlord.
“But sir…”
“Enough. Return to your troupe and tell them my new orders.”
“Yes sir.”
After Sanyo reported the new orders he returned to his tent with Knives waiting for him. As
they both sleep in each other’s embrace, he began cursing over the warlord. How can he not realize
the danger? If we were human then the wall would not be a concern. But we are Centaurs, we cannot
climb no matter what with the legs that we have.
The battle to take over the two clans took longer than the earlier battle. Around 7 weeks
later, Sanyo’s clan was again victorious. But this time the cost was higher and there’re very few
warriors left.
“I have decided that we are to take over the human capital! I will personally lead our army
into another victory!” shouted the warlord.
Every centaur cheered, except for Sanyo who kept quiet.
After the announcement, the centaurs marched to the human capital like they did 10 weeks
ago. Once they got there, they began the final battle.
Sanyo sliced through one human to the next with his battle axe. Blood covered his armor and
his lower half. The human warriors began losing in numbers again as they die from centaur steel.
“Retreat!” shouted one of the humans.
And so they all ran, with the centaurs chasing them and killing anyone who got caught up.
“They are running towards the capital, take them all down and burn the city!” shouted the
warlord.
They reached the recently built wall that surrounds the city completely. The gate of that wall
closed after the last of the human warrior survivors managed to go through. The centaurs came to a
halt.
“Tch, so they did finish the wall. It must be fragile to be completed so early. Archers! Set that
wall aflame!”
The centaur archers began shooting fire arrows at the wall. They expected the walls to burn,
but to their surprise, the assault didn’t even make a camp fire.
“Stone? They managed to make a wall of stone in 10 weeks? How can this be?” shouted the
warlord.
Because you gave them time, thought Sanyo. Sanyo’s fears had come to realization when the
human archers began shooting at the centaurs from the top of the wall.
“Return fire!” shouted the warlord.
The centaur archers tried to shoot down the enemy, but the enemy had stone cover that was
built on top of the wall to hide behind. Very quickly the centaurs lose their numbers when the human
archers made a rain of arrows.
Sanyo dodged a few, but he shouted in despair as his friend, Tensop got shot in the head.
For once the warlord shouted, “Retreat!”
The surviving centaurs began retreating from the arrows. Suddenly another group of human
warriors cut them off their escape route. Trapped, the centaurs desperately tried fighting their way
through. It was futile with the archers shooting at their backs and the warriors attacking at their
fronts.
“No… this cannot be,” said the warlord before he died from a spear throw by one of the
human warriors.
Sanyo felt a very sharp pain from his back. He had been shot by a few arrows. Falling to his
side, Sanyo remembered when he looked at the capital city over the horizon 10 months ago. So
close… he thought before he sank into oblivion.
Injured, but not weakened, Sanyo kicked his enemy in the head with his hind legs. After he
killed the human, Sanyo took a breather to observe his surroundings. The battle was nearly over; the
rest of the human warriors began retreating from the centaurs. Unfortunately for them, the centaurs
could catch up to finish them off.
“Heh, pathetic fighters they are, soon we will be able to take over their capital,” said a
familiar voice.
“Tensop? You survived? I thought that human archer got you,” said Sanyo.
“A minor graze, my leather armor managed to stop the arrow in time,” said Tensop.
“Then fortune smiles on you my friend,” said Sanyo.
“Yes indeed, fortune smiles to us all. If you excuse me, I’ll be helping the rest cleaning up the
battle field,” said Tensop.
As Tensop galloped away, Sanyo looked over at the horizon. He could see the human’s
capital city, a huge beautiful city sitting on top of a hill.
After we rest from this battle, taking over that city will not be a problem and once we
conquer that city, conquering the rest of the human’s land will be a breeze. Sanyo thought.
At night, the centaur army celebrated their recent victory in their camp with ale and
entertainment. Sanyo, half drunk, went to his tent where his wife, Knives, was waiting for him.
“How’s my big soldier doing?” said Knives.
“Tired and drunk… I did poorly in battle today,” said Sanyo.
“Really? You didn’t get to kill over 10 like you boasted?”
“Didn’t even get to 5,” said Sanyo.
“Well, maybe you’ll get much more once you fight in their capital,” said Knives.
Suddenly Sanyo and his wife began hearing angry shouts outside their tent. Sanyo
immediately galloped out and found that the shouting came from a group of centaurs arguing with
each other. He found Tensop who was also shouting.
“What’s going on?” said Sanyo.
“A messenger came, our warlord wants us to return home,” said Tensop.
“What?! We are soo close to the capital, why does he want us to fall back?”
“Apparently he wants us to take over another centaur clan who just happened to be
attacking ours.”
“But the warlord should have enough warriors to defend…”
“He wants us to TAKE over the other clan, not defend from it,” said Tensop.
Sanyo wanted to continue arguing, but he knew they all have to follow the warlord’s order.
Not doing so means death penalty.
And so the centaur army packed their camp and made their journey home, leaving the
human capital unharmed and unscratched.
A fight between centaurs is more horrendous than a fight between humans. Once Sanyo’s
group finally returned home they immediately began fighting the other centaur clan. Every day
Arrows fly in the air, swords and shields bashed against each other, the ground soaked by blood.
“There’s their camp, take it over!”
And after 3 weeks of fighting, Sanyo’s clan was victorious. Once they took their enemy’s
camp they chopped off the clan’s warlord head to present it to their own warlord. Sanyo was picked
to present the head.
“You have done well soldier,” said the warlord.
“I’m grateful for the honor of meeting you in person sir,” said Sanyo.
“I’ve heard that you wanted some kind of permission?” said the warlord.
“Yes sir. For the last two weeks, I’ve heard that the human capital had been building a wall.
The wall has not yet been complete, but it concerns me on what will happened once it’s finished. I
would like permission to attack the city before the wall is complete,” said Sanyo.
“Ha Ha Ha! You don’t need to worry about that wall. My scouts have reported to me that the
humans are losing quite a lot of resources and manpower trying to build it, it’ll take them at least a
year to finish anything threatening,” said the warlord.
“But sir, it’s still a wall…”
“Right now we have more important matters to take care of. There’s another battle between
two other centaur clans. I want to seize this opportunity to take over both those clans when they are
weakening,” said the warlord.
“But sir…”
“Enough. Return to your troupe and tell them my new orders.”
“Yes sir.”
After Sanyo reported the new orders he returned to his tent with Knives waiting for him. As
they both sleep in each other’s embrace, he began cursing over the warlord. How can he not realize
the danger? If we were human then the wall would not be a concern. But we are Centaurs, we cannot
climb no matter what with the legs that we have.
The battle to take over the two clans took longer than the earlier battle. Around 7 weeks
later, Sanyo’s clan was again victorious. But this time the cost was higher and there’re very few
warriors left.
“I have decided that we are to take over the human capital! I will personally lead our army
into another victory!” shouted the warlord.
Every centaur cheered, except for Sanyo who kept quiet.
After the announcement, the centaurs marched to the human capital like they did 10 weeks
ago. Once they got there, they began the final battle.
Sanyo sliced through one human to the next with his battle axe. Blood covered his armor and
his lower half. The human warriors began losing in numbers again as they die from centaur steel.
“Retreat!” shouted one of the humans.
And so they all ran, with the centaurs chasing them and killing anyone who got caught up.
“They are running towards the capital, take them all down and burn the city!” shouted the
warlord.
They reached the recently built wall that surrounds the city completely. The gate of that wall
closed after the last of the human warrior survivors managed to go through. The centaurs came to a
halt.
“Tch, so they did finish the wall. It must be fragile to be completed so early. Archers! Set that
wall aflame!”
The centaur archers began shooting fire arrows at the wall. They expected the walls to burn,
but to their surprise, the assault didn’t even make a camp fire.
“Stone? They managed to make a wall of stone in 10 weeks? How can this be?” shouted the
warlord.
Because you gave them time, thought Sanyo. Sanyo’s fears had come to realization when the
human archers began shooting at the centaurs from the top of the wall.
“Return fire!” shouted the warlord.
The centaur archers tried to shoot down the enemy, but the enemy had stone cover that was
built on top of the wall to hide behind. Very quickly the centaurs lose their numbers when the human
archers made a rain of arrows.
Sanyo dodged a few, but he shouted in despair as his friend, Tensop got shot in the head.
For once the warlord shouted, “Retreat!”
The surviving centaurs began retreating from the arrows. Suddenly another group of human
warriors cut them off their escape route. Trapped, the centaurs desperately tried fighting their way
through. It was futile with the archers shooting at their backs and the warriors attacking at their
fronts.
“No… this cannot be,” said the warlord before he died from a spear throw by one of the
human warriors.
Sanyo felt a very sharp pain from his back. He had been shot by a few arrows. Falling to his
side, Sanyo remembered when he looked at the capital city over the horizon 10 months ago. So
close… he thought before he sank into oblivion.
Fallen Angel
By: Ling
my very own bildungsroman is a tragedy.
maturing, ever revising schema brought me here,
i've been following you, my God to Nowhere.
the little glimpses that seemed to make sense..
came together in this unsensible, unjustifiable mess
becoming of age -
my fall from grace,
The Great Schism from 'Whole'
I am your so called fallen angel.
stripped of my wings,
eyes opened so i can see clearly -
as i walk down this Human Life Boulevard.
No, I don't want to learn your ways.
stuck in this sick cycle,
of mornings afterlife and dead nights.
to live just to die everyday,
Is this my Mortal Life?
I am Prometheus of heart,
I am Tantalus for happiness,
the more i see the less i desire to feel -
No, I don't want to learn your ways.
Dear Father,
I am the malcontent in This Dystopia.
I am the outcast in God's Utopia.
my very own bildungsroman is a tragedy.
maturing, ever revising schema brought me here,
i've been following you, my God to Nowhere.
the little glimpses that seemed to make sense..
came together in this unsensible, unjustifiable mess
becoming of age -
my fall from grace,
The Great Schism from 'Whole'
I am your so called fallen angel.
stripped of my wings,
eyes opened so i can see clearly -
as i walk down this Human Life Boulevard.
No, I don't want to learn your ways.
stuck in this sick cycle,
of mornings afterlife and dead nights.
to live just to die everyday,
Is this my Mortal Life?
I am Prometheus of heart,
I am Tantalus for happiness,
the more i see the less i desire to feel -
No, I don't want to learn your ways.
Dear Father,
I am the malcontent in This Dystopia.
I am the outcast in God's Utopia.
Life of a Phoenix
By: Newton Tanskul
I begin anew
Leaving my brief remnants
Continuing this endless search
Soaring across the sky
Following the warm sunlight
Guiding lost souls amidst night
They see me as a sign of peace
A sign of strength and permanence
But I was never able to choose my fate
Therefore I question my existence
And I ponder my purpose
Jealous of the peacock’s grandeur
Envious of the dove’s swift gait
Longing for the crow’s reverence
While my fires may illuminate the misguided
What good can it do to me?
I am not gifted; I am cursed
Time has lost meaning for me
For when I bathe in flames
I sing one last song in tribute to the lost
As it is I who has truly faltered
And from the ashes I shall rise
Forever blazing in this vicious cycle
I begin anew
I begin anew
Leaving my brief remnants
Continuing this endless search
Soaring across the sky
Following the warm sunlight
Guiding lost souls amidst night
They see me as a sign of peace
A sign of strength and permanence
But I was never able to choose my fate
Therefore I question my existence
And I ponder my purpose
Jealous of the peacock’s grandeur
Envious of the dove’s swift gait
Longing for the crow’s reverence
While my fires may illuminate the misguided
What good can it do to me?
I am not gifted; I am cursed
Time has lost meaning for me
For when I bathe in flames
I sing one last song in tribute to the lost
As it is I who has truly faltered
And from the ashes I shall rise
Forever blazing in this vicious cycle
I begin anew
Winner of October: Fashion Nightmares
Monday, November 1, 2010
Done By: Win Su
STOP THESE TRENDS.
Have you heard of the term, “fashion nightmare?” To define it for you, it is when people wear the wrong clothes, wrong accessories, and wrong style. Do you have some in mind? Iʼve got 10 utterly nightmare-causing outfits straight from Hollywood.
10. One Style Too Often
This nightmare rates the lowest of all 10. Need I explain this? Taylor Swift
does an amazing job of this, I must add. Itʼs when some people get so comfortable, arguably too comfortable with their outfits that they buy the same thing, in every color and every pattern. One or two of the same, not a problem, but when you hit the 5 dress mark, stop. Taylor Swift must have a hundred of these one-color, knee-length puffed out skirt dresses. If you donʼt believe me, take a look.
She has them in brown, cream, clover green, yellow, and sequined black, and I remember seeing a gold one, a red one and two other cream ones, so that makes 9 right now. Iʼm guessing she has more.
9. Casual Much?
There is a thing we call dress codes. At events, we are actually required to dress appropriately. You canʼt just pull own a pair of shorts and a shirt and then drop a jacket over. Thatʼs just not right. And look at our perp right here.
Itʼs Jessica Simpson, notorious for dressing down. Weʼre all for effortless fashion, but isnʼt that a little too effortless. Itʼs more like no effort at all. Adding to that, the jacket is so loose and sloppy, it makes her lose those beautiful curves.
8. Too Big a But(t)
Getting fatter after having children used to be an excuse until Heidi Klum came along. Youʼd think moms would have a difficult time losing weight, and they do, but when dressing for events with curves and getting photographed in them, you seriously need to watch your angles. This particular angle makes Christina Aguileraʼs butt look so big she could sit on people and kill them. As for Heidi Klum, sheʼs on her fourth kid and still has a body like this. No excuses for Christina here.
7. Is 19 Is the New 50?
Why do starlets have to dress so old for their age?
If youʼre 19, put on a fun, flirty dress, something with color, print, and the right length. When youʼre young, you have a body. Rock it. Wear for it. Use it. As for color, go bold and beautiful, violet purple or hot pink. Donʼt turn into sad Emma Roberts here. That dress is not only sloppy, the color is too much “ladies who lunch,” rather than hot 19 year old teenager.
6. Donʼt Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
Hollywood stars have always been known for taking risks, but flying all the way to Oz is just wrong. Awful. Plain. Wrong. Now look here, we have red-head Dorothy who apparently grew up (but not out of her shoes) and the Tin Manʼs wife. I never knew the Tin Man got married to Tori Spelling. As for Rihannaʼs dress, it looks like she brought back the entire poppy field back to La-La Land. And look at Toriʼs face, she looks like she needs some oil for her joints, doesnʼt she?
5. Color Explosion
Weʼve all heard of failed art projects, but this is just so crazy. Look at poor Claire Danes. The pink dress was not half bad, but when you see the green stripe and the funny fungus sleeve, it is just way too much. Besides, donʼt you just want to tear that funny fungus sleeve off? The length, the draping, the colors, the center of interest, in this case, the disaster epicenter, itʼs just all wrong.
4. No-No Nude
Lingerie dresses are all the rage, but when it looks like youʼre not wearing anything at all, isnʼt it just scary? Imagine walking onto the red carpet and turning heads for all the wrong reasons. Salma Hayek, youʼre married to the Gucci designer, not the Victoriaʼs Secret owner. Put on some clothes. Youʼd think a couture wife would have on something
glamorous. As for the funky bottom, itʼs more funked up than funky.
3.Itʼs an Allergic Reaction
Anyone whoʼs watched Project Runway has seen all the weird materials they use to make dresses and clothing, but tissue paper? Really? Itʼs like Nicole Richie came well prepared for her allergies. I wonder what sheʼs allergic to. Maybe bad fashion? If so, sheʼll be using up the entire skirt. She came well prepared for the excessive amounts of tissue too. Can you see the “hidden” trash bags? She rolled them up and taped them onto her dress. Sneaky Nicole Richie, you.
2. Mental Breakdown Clothing
When you have a mental breakdown, thereʼs only one thing to do. Go buy mental breakdown clothing. Thatʼs what Gwen Stefani, Paris Hilton, and Mischa Barton did. Letʼs start with Gwen. I think her shrink told her to buy something representing emotions. Iʼm guessing she picked out nervous and trashy. As for Paris Hilton, being a heiress is very exhausting. Doesnʼt it look like she threw Hawaii onto her dress, for therapeutic properties, maybe? They say ocean waves and wales do calm you. And Mischa Barton. She has a mental breakdown every day.
That dress and that bag look like you partied at an art museum and dragged the art out with you. One piece of advice, donʼt go shopping when youʼre crazy. It scares people.
1.Coulrophobia
For those of you who donʼt know what coulrophobia means, it means fear of clowns. And after Rihannaʼs dresses, I certainly am. This wins the top nightmare position. The colored dots makes Rihanna look like a circus monkey with juggling balls. As for that radioactive shade of orange for her blazer and those stripes on the skirt, Rihanna looks like sheʼs carrying a portable big top.
Well, thatʼs it for my fashion rants for the time being. I hope you enjoyed it.
STOP THESE TRENDS.
Have you heard of the term, “fashion nightmare?” To define it for you, it is when people wear the wrong clothes, wrong accessories, and wrong style. Do you have some in mind? Iʼve got 10 utterly nightmare-causing outfits straight from Hollywood.
10. One Style Too Often
This nightmare rates the lowest of all 10. Need I explain this? Taylor Swift
does an amazing job of this, I must add. Itʼs when some people get so comfortable, arguably too comfortable with their outfits that they buy the same thing, in every color and every pattern. One or two of the same, not a problem, but when you hit the 5 dress mark, stop. Taylor Swift must have a hundred of these one-color, knee-length puffed out skirt dresses. If you donʼt believe me, take a look.
She has them in brown, cream, clover green, yellow, and sequined black, and I remember seeing a gold one, a red one and two other cream ones, so that makes 9 right now. Iʼm guessing she has more.
9. Casual Much?
There is a thing we call dress codes. At events, we are actually required to dress appropriately. You canʼt just pull own a pair of shorts and a shirt and then drop a jacket over. Thatʼs just not right. And look at our perp right here.Itʼs Jessica Simpson, notorious for dressing down. Weʼre all for effortless fashion, but isnʼt that a little too effortless. Itʼs more like no effort at all. Adding to that, the jacket is so loose and sloppy, it makes her lose those beautiful curves.
8. Too Big a But(t)
Why do starlets have to dress so old for their age?
If youʼre 19, put on a fun, flirty dress, something with color, print, and the right length. When youʼre young, you have a body. Rock it. Wear for it. Use it. As for color, go bold and beautiful, violet purple or hot pink. Donʼt turn into sad Emma Roberts here. That dress is not only sloppy, the color is too much “ladies who lunch,” rather than hot 19 year old teenager.
Hollywood stars have always been known for taking risks, but flying all the way to Oz is just wrong. Awful. Plain. Wrong. Now look here, we have red-head Dorothy who apparently grew up (but not out of her shoes) and the Tin Manʼs wife. I never knew the Tin Man got married to Tori Spelling. As for Rihannaʼs dress, it looks like she brought back the entire poppy field back to La-La Land. And look at Toriʼs face, she looks like she needs some oil for her joints, doesnʼt she?
Weʼve all heard of failed art projects, but this is just so crazy. Look at poor Claire Danes. The pink dress was not half bad, but when you see the green stripe and the funny fungus sleeve, it is just way too much. Besides, donʼt you just want to tear that funny fungus sleeve off? The length, the draping, the colors, the center of interest, in this case, the disaster epicenter, itʼs just all wrong.
Lingerie dresses are all the rage, but when it looks like youʼre not wearing anything at all, isnʼt it just scary? Imagine walking onto the red carpet and turning heads for all the wrong reasons. Salma Hayek, youʼre married to the Gucci designer, not the Victoriaʼs Secret owner. Put on some clothes. Youʼd think a couture wife would have on something
glamorous. As for the funky bottom, itʼs more funked up than funky.
Anyone whoʼs watched Project Runway has seen all the weird materials they use to make dresses and clothing, but tissue paper? Really? Itʼs like Nicole Richie came well prepared for her allergies. I wonder what sheʼs allergic to. Maybe bad fashion? If so, sheʼll be using up the entire skirt. She came well prepared for the excessive amounts of tissue too. Can you see the “hidden” trash bags? She rolled them up and taped them onto her dress. Sneaky Nicole Richie, you.
When you have a mental breakdown, thereʼs only one thing to do. Go buy mental breakdown clothing. Thatʼs what Gwen Stefani, Paris Hilton, and Mischa Barton did. Letʼs start with Gwen. I think her shrink told her to buy something representing emotions. Iʼm guessing she picked out nervous and trashy. As for Paris Hilton, being a heiress is very exhausting. Doesnʼt it look like she threw Hawaii onto her dress, for therapeutic properties, maybe? They say ocean waves and wales do calm you. And Mischa Barton. She has a mental breakdown every day.
That dress and that bag look like you partied at an art museum and dragged the art out with you. One piece of advice, donʼt go shopping when youʼre crazy. It scares people.
For those of you who donʼt know what coulrophobia means, it means fear of clowns. And after Rihannaʼs dresses, I certainly am. This wins the top nightmare position. The colored dots makes Rihanna look like a circus monkey with juggling balls. As for that radioactive shade of orange for her blazer and those stripes on the skirt, Rihanna looks like sheʼs carrying a portable big top.
Well, thatʼs it for my fashion rants for the time being. I hope you enjoyed it.
The Diamond Ring
By: Newton Tanskul
She was laughing again.
Anyone who said that laughing was medicine was dead wrong. It was more like a drug that took away lives rather than saving them.
I couldn’t take it anymore. Her laughter was screeching my ears. Everyone else seemed to be deaf, because they were laughing with her.
She was the most attractive girl in the whole school. And it wasn’t how well-endowed she was, or how beautiful her hair was when the wind breezed by against it. It wasn’t her deep, sultry hazel eyes either.
So what was it? That, I could not pinpoint. Her personality was disgusting. She acted so cute and innocent just to get all the boys on her side. And when all the boys started to sweet-talk her, trying to touch her, trying to get close to her…
I die a little inside.
I didn’t have her looks. I didn’t have her charm. I didn’t have her friends. It’s never like that. My life was a whole different story.
I had been through a lot of things. Life has thrown disastrous events my way, and I was still alive and strong. That’s what I’d like to believe anyway.
This girl wasn’t making it easier for me. Her name was Melissa. And she must’ve been the queen of all things sour. Sometimes I just wanted to walk up to her and stuff her mouth with a baseball to shut her up. Or when she was flirting with one of the guys, I’d tell him how she has a bad case of something in places he wouldn’t like to hear of. Other times, I just felt like pushing her down the stairs.
I hated her that much.
Well, if you’ve gotten this far you’re probably thinking I’m envious of Melissa. And you’re right. I am. If I’ve learned anything in biology class, then it’s that only the fittest of animals survive in this world. We all thrive in competition. We all have to adapt to our surroundings. That whole concept fits my situation.
And that’s where this gets complicated. Sure, I’m used to life’s cruelty. But I’m like a fish that’s looked up at the sky and wondered how life would be like if it was a bird. Melissa was this flamboyant crowned pigeon that wasn’t afraid to show off its beauty, and I was this little trout that could only hope for a better life than the dark depths of my own ocean.
What made Melissa tick? What made her better than me? She must know she’s tormenting me. When she laughs, she knows I can hear it. She knows I hate it. But she does it just to antagonize me until I die. There must be something that makes her oh-so-desirable…
I’m walking down the hallway one day and I hear a bunch of people gossip about Melissa.
“Dude, Melissa’s diamond ring is HUGE!”
“Tsk, I wish I had that kind of money.”
I don’t know what goes through my head…but I’m sure that this diamond ring of hers is going to garner her more attention than I could ever hope to attain for myself.
That’s when the nightmare begins.
I start wearing my mother’s rather large earrings to school. I’m not so sure why.
Everyone who walks past me stares at them, whispering to each other on how out of place my earrings are. I ignore them and make my way to my locker.
Society is strange. Everyone seems to worship Melissa’s large ring. She’s had it for many weeks now, and the more I see it, the more I grow to envy her.
As if fate was sadistically toying around with me, she’s in front of my locker, talking to one of her friends. Her hands are waving in the air as she talks incessantly. And on one of her fingers…the diamond sparkles all the way across the school corridor, lighting up the entire place, outshining the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The diamond has its own level of grandeur, it’s like another Melissa. It’s the leader of all the inanimate objects in the world, much like Melissa dominating everyone else with her soulful eyes. I’m not sure if it’s the ring or Melissa herself that kills me more. All I know is that I can’t stand seeing the two of these things together.
It’s as if they’re saying, “The world is ours. And you can’t stop us.”
***
Later that day, I’m sent out of the class for sleeping during the lesson. It’s not my fault the teacher’s fat and boring.
I decide to go to the restroom and fix my hair. I don’t expect anyone to tell me I’m pretty with my hair down, but I go ahead and untie it anyway. My mother always said that I should be the one who’s able to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself that I’m beautiful. It’s got to be me saying that first before anyone else can.
As luck would have it, fate continues to toy with me. Who else do I find in the restroom but Melissa? She’s doing her make-up at this hour, when she’s supposed to be in class. I bet if I did that I’d be labeled as ‘desperate’. But for Melissa…anything she does is justifiable. It’s not fair, but who am I to question such logic?
For some reason, she doesn’t notice me standing at the door of the restroom. She’s lost in her own delusion that the world revolves around her and nobody else. She takes out her eyeliner and starts to apply it ever-so-slowly. And as her hands are moving, my eye catches the diamond ring on the finger. It’s mocking me, scintillating in its own pride.
Melissa’s doing this to make herself look better than me. She knows I’m there. She’s just doing this whole make-up thing to justify her place in society in comparison to mine.
I feel a murderous rage take over me. My vision goes red, and suddenly the restroom isn’t there anymore. It’s just Melissa, applying her make-up, and nothing else but a red background. Maybe if I got my hands on that ring…just maybe…I could be like her. Maybe the world would make so much more sense if it encircled my finger, and not hers.
My vision continues to boil red, so blood-red that I can hear my heart pumping out more blood than it should. Nothing else is on my mind but me wearing that ring of elusive beauty, to acquire a new place in this cruel society; to be part of something I hate with a passion.
And I thought society was strange. Perhaps it was I that was the stranger. It doesn’t matter now. That ring is mine.
A small little voice tells me not to do what I think of doing. But I treat that voice exactly the same way as I treat everyone else and ignore it. Without a moment’s delay, I slowly stagger towards Melissa.
She turns around, a look of surprise on her face, as if she’s only just noticed me. I quickly decide that she’s faking this expression, that she’s probably going to say ‘Oh, I didn’t notice you there, I was busy showing off my superiority’ or something along those lines. But I can’t let her say such a thing. I lunge forward.
Her eyeliner, and all of her make-up, transforms into a crimson red.
***
When I get to my bedroom, I’m holding the diamond ring in my hand. I’m breathing heavily, gasping for breath. I don’t remember how I even got home. I don’t know why I’m trying to catch my breath. But I don’t care. The ring is finally mine.
I’m gripping this circular object of godlike power in my hand. I don’t know why I’m not wearing it. A jumble of thoughts crosses my mind, but I can’t concentrate on them. I collapse onto my bed from an inexplicable exhaustion and fall into a dark, but peaceful slumber.
When I come to, it’s midnight and there are flashing red and blue lights outside my window. Rubbing my eyes from the drowsiness, I get up to look what’s outside. To my horror, there is a police car parked just next to my lawn. Before I can comprehend my situation, two policemen kick down the door of my room and push me up against the wall. They slap on cold, uncomfortable handcuffs around my wrists.
“Alice Everton, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Melissa Winters. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Cops…I should’ve known they’d catch on. But I’m not afraid of them. Not even as they call me a sad little girl when they see how dark my room is, even with the lights on. Not even as they forcibly push me down the stairs and out into the cold, snowy night. Not even when they tell my father that I’m going to face severe consequences as they push me into the police car.
Before I know it, they’re driving me to the local police station. They were probably going to lock me up in one of their cells or something, but for some reason, the thought of a jail cell reminds me of my own room. Dreary, depressing, lonesome…but a place of solitude. I figure it wouldn’t be so bad.
The cops are talking about me as they drive, but I really don’t care what they say. I’ve heard it all before. They complain about kids today and the stuff on TV that’s allegedly corrupting our pure, innocent minds. They wonder how people like ‘this girl’ here lives with herself in such a condition. And then they start badmouthing my parents.
These cops sound like the people from school. They’re all the same.
I sit silently in the backseat, wondering what’s going to become of me. We’re nearing the police station—it’s only a matter of time before I’m all locked up.
The car stops at a red light. I notice a pair of bright white lights coming from the right side of the car. The pitch-black shadows of the night make it hard to see, but I could’ve sworn it was a speeding vehicle. A massive one.
The lights get closer and closer, two orbs illuminating the concrete road increasing in size. The lights are so bright they blind my vision. It reminds me of the ring…
And that’s the last thought that crosses my mind before fate plays its last trick on me. A truck crashes into the side of the police car, hurling it into the air, causing it to spin violently in the night sky. The police car crash lands back onto the road, transforming into a huge inferno of destruction.
***
I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Now I’m really gasping for breath. My body is completely drenched in sweat.
I take a few moments to recompose myself. It had been a dream. I should’ve known.
Thinking back, everything then seemed to have moved so fast…too fast. It was dead obvious it was a dream…those things could never have happened in real life! I’d be a fool to think it had been a reality.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I lie back down onto my pillow. Life wasn’t so bad. Even if modern society proved to be a beast from hell, I had to cherish what I had in the present. Something makes me see life through that new light. It’s as if I had been resurrected with new insight. I had to be happy with what I had.
And in a long time, so far back I can’t even remember, I smile to myself for the first time in ages. Things weren’t as bad as I had thought they’d be. Strange…I can’t seem to put into perspective what gave me this burst of optimism.
I notice something glimmering on the bedroom floor, reflecting the moonlight outside the window. I get up from my bed to examine it.
I smile again and think: The world is mine. And no one can stop me.
I pick up the diamond ring from the floor and put it up on my shelf.
She was laughing again.
Anyone who said that laughing was medicine was dead wrong. It was more like a drug that took away lives rather than saving them.
I couldn’t take it anymore. Her laughter was screeching my ears. Everyone else seemed to be deaf, because they were laughing with her.
She was the most attractive girl in the whole school. And it wasn’t how well-endowed she was, or how beautiful her hair was when the wind breezed by against it. It wasn’t her deep, sultry hazel eyes either.
So what was it? That, I could not pinpoint. Her personality was disgusting. She acted so cute and innocent just to get all the boys on her side. And when all the boys started to sweet-talk her, trying to touch her, trying to get close to her…
I die a little inside.
I didn’t have her looks. I didn’t have her charm. I didn’t have her friends. It’s never like that. My life was a whole different story.
I had been through a lot of things. Life has thrown disastrous events my way, and I was still alive and strong. That’s what I’d like to believe anyway.
This girl wasn’t making it easier for me. Her name was Melissa. And she must’ve been the queen of all things sour. Sometimes I just wanted to walk up to her and stuff her mouth with a baseball to shut her up. Or when she was flirting with one of the guys, I’d tell him how she has a bad case of something in places he wouldn’t like to hear of. Other times, I just felt like pushing her down the stairs.
I hated her that much.
Well, if you’ve gotten this far you’re probably thinking I’m envious of Melissa. And you’re right. I am. If I’ve learned anything in biology class, then it’s that only the fittest of animals survive in this world. We all thrive in competition. We all have to adapt to our surroundings. That whole concept fits my situation.
And that’s where this gets complicated. Sure, I’m used to life’s cruelty. But I’m like a fish that’s looked up at the sky and wondered how life would be like if it was a bird. Melissa was this flamboyant crowned pigeon that wasn’t afraid to show off its beauty, and I was this little trout that could only hope for a better life than the dark depths of my own ocean.
What made Melissa tick? What made her better than me? She must know she’s tormenting me. When she laughs, she knows I can hear it. She knows I hate it. But she does it just to antagonize me until I die. There must be something that makes her oh-so-desirable…
I’m walking down the hallway one day and I hear a bunch of people gossip about Melissa.
“Dude, Melissa’s diamond ring is HUGE!”
“Tsk, I wish I had that kind of money.”
I don’t know what goes through my head…but I’m sure that this diamond ring of hers is going to garner her more attention than I could ever hope to attain for myself.
That’s when the nightmare begins.
I start wearing my mother’s rather large earrings to school. I’m not so sure why.
Everyone who walks past me stares at them, whispering to each other on how out of place my earrings are. I ignore them and make my way to my locker.
Society is strange. Everyone seems to worship Melissa’s large ring. She’s had it for many weeks now, and the more I see it, the more I grow to envy her.
As if fate was sadistically toying around with me, she’s in front of my locker, talking to one of her friends. Her hands are waving in the air as she talks incessantly. And on one of her fingers…the diamond sparkles all the way across the school corridor, lighting up the entire place, outshining the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The diamond has its own level of grandeur, it’s like another Melissa. It’s the leader of all the inanimate objects in the world, much like Melissa dominating everyone else with her soulful eyes. I’m not sure if it’s the ring or Melissa herself that kills me more. All I know is that I can’t stand seeing the two of these things together.
It’s as if they’re saying, “The world is ours. And you can’t stop us.”
***
Later that day, I’m sent out of the class for sleeping during the lesson. It’s not my fault the teacher’s fat and boring.
I decide to go to the restroom and fix my hair. I don’t expect anyone to tell me I’m pretty with my hair down, but I go ahead and untie it anyway. My mother always said that I should be the one who’s able to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself that I’m beautiful. It’s got to be me saying that first before anyone else can.
As luck would have it, fate continues to toy with me. Who else do I find in the restroom but Melissa? She’s doing her make-up at this hour, when she’s supposed to be in class. I bet if I did that I’d be labeled as ‘desperate’. But for Melissa…anything she does is justifiable. It’s not fair, but who am I to question such logic?
For some reason, she doesn’t notice me standing at the door of the restroom. She’s lost in her own delusion that the world revolves around her and nobody else. She takes out her eyeliner and starts to apply it ever-so-slowly. And as her hands are moving, my eye catches the diamond ring on the finger. It’s mocking me, scintillating in its own pride.
Melissa’s doing this to make herself look better than me. She knows I’m there. She’s just doing this whole make-up thing to justify her place in society in comparison to mine.
I feel a murderous rage take over me. My vision goes red, and suddenly the restroom isn’t there anymore. It’s just Melissa, applying her make-up, and nothing else but a red background. Maybe if I got my hands on that ring…just maybe…I could be like her. Maybe the world would make so much more sense if it encircled my finger, and not hers.
My vision continues to boil red, so blood-red that I can hear my heart pumping out more blood than it should. Nothing else is on my mind but me wearing that ring of elusive beauty, to acquire a new place in this cruel society; to be part of something I hate with a passion.
And I thought society was strange. Perhaps it was I that was the stranger. It doesn’t matter now. That ring is mine.
A small little voice tells me not to do what I think of doing. But I treat that voice exactly the same way as I treat everyone else and ignore it. Without a moment’s delay, I slowly stagger towards Melissa.
She turns around, a look of surprise on her face, as if she’s only just noticed me. I quickly decide that she’s faking this expression, that she’s probably going to say ‘Oh, I didn’t notice you there, I was busy showing off my superiority’ or something along those lines. But I can’t let her say such a thing. I lunge forward.
Her eyeliner, and all of her make-up, transforms into a crimson red.
***
When I get to my bedroom, I’m holding the diamond ring in my hand. I’m breathing heavily, gasping for breath. I don’t remember how I even got home. I don’t know why I’m trying to catch my breath. But I don’t care. The ring is finally mine.
I’m gripping this circular object of godlike power in my hand. I don’t know why I’m not wearing it. A jumble of thoughts crosses my mind, but I can’t concentrate on them. I collapse onto my bed from an inexplicable exhaustion and fall into a dark, but peaceful slumber.
When I come to, it’s midnight and there are flashing red and blue lights outside my window. Rubbing my eyes from the drowsiness, I get up to look what’s outside. To my horror, there is a police car parked just next to my lawn. Before I can comprehend my situation, two policemen kick down the door of my room and push me up against the wall. They slap on cold, uncomfortable handcuffs around my wrists.
“Alice Everton, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of Melissa Winters. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Cops…I should’ve known they’d catch on. But I’m not afraid of them. Not even as they call me a sad little girl when they see how dark my room is, even with the lights on. Not even as they forcibly push me down the stairs and out into the cold, snowy night. Not even when they tell my father that I’m going to face severe consequences as they push me into the police car.
Before I know it, they’re driving me to the local police station. They were probably going to lock me up in one of their cells or something, but for some reason, the thought of a jail cell reminds me of my own room. Dreary, depressing, lonesome…but a place of solitude. I figure it wouldn’t be so bad.
The cops are talking about me as they drive, but I really don’t care what they say. I’ve heard it all before. They complain about kids today and the stuff on TV that’s allegedly corrupting our pure, innocent minds. They wonder how people like ‘this girl’ here lives with herself in such a condition. And then they start badmouthing my parents.
These cops sound like the people from school. They’re all the same.
I sit silently in the backseat, wondering what’s going to become of me. We’re nearing the police station—it’s only a matter of time before I’m all locked up.
The car stops at a red light. I notice a pair of bright white lights coming from the right side of the car. The pitch-black shadows of the night make it hard to see, but I could’ve sworn it was a speeding vehicle. A massive one.
The lights get closer and closer, two orbs illuminating the concrete road increasing in size. The lights are so bright they blind my vision. It reminds me of the ring…
And that’s the last thought that crosses my mind before fate plays its last trick on me. A truck crashes into the side of the police car, hurling it into the air, causing it to spin violently in the night sky. The police car crash lands back onto the road, transforming into a huge inferno of destruction.
***
I wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Now I’m really gasping for breath. My body is completely drenched in sweat.
I take a few moments to recompose myself. It had been a dream. I should’ve known.
Thinking back, everything then seemed to have moved so fast…too fast. It was dead obvious it was a dream…those things could never have happened in real life! I’d be a fool to think it had been a reality.
Letting out a sigh of relief, I lie back down onto my pillow. Life wasn’t so bad. Even if modern society proved to be a beast from hell, I had to cherish what I had in the present. Something makes me see life through that new light. It’s as if I had been resurrected with new insight. I had to be happy with what I had.
And in a long time, so far back I can’t even remember, I smile to myself for the first time in ages. Things weren’t as bad as I had thought they’d be. Strange…I can’t seem to put into perspective what gave me this burst of optimism.
I notice something glimmering on the bedroom floor, reflecting the moonlight outside the window. I get up from my bed to examine it.
I smile again and think: The world is mine. And no one can stop me.
I pick up the diamond ring from the floor and put it up on my shelf.
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