Every day I try. I try to be better than I am. Different than I am. I go to therapy, ask for help, and even when it all fails I keep trying. I don’t do it for myself, God knows I’ve done enough for myself, I do it for my son.
Will, my sweet Will. He never asked to have someone like me as a father. A drunk. A liar. A cheat. I hate myself for that. I hate who I’ve let myself become. He doesn’t dese...
To all the Hunger Games lovers out there :)
Brilliant. It’s all brilliant. I dont care much about what other people say, the Hunger Games is a masterful idea. What better way to punish the districts for their deceitfulness and incompetence during this war? Today is a very special day. You see, today we will finally get to meet the mastermind behind this whole project, Casca Highbottom.
I rush d...
Hope is a strange thing
One moment life is no better than death
and the dark, no different than the light
but as we struggle to take our last breath
we see a glimpse of hope in our sight
Death is a strange thing
If we say we do not love
than we are dead to our heart
but if we die and rise to heaven above
our death is now worlds apart
Love is a strange thing
We can hate with all our might
But ...
Mable was 7 years old when she died. Boys at school still tell the tale of how she passed to try and spook me, but I knew better to believe it. The story went like this…
There once was a girl named Mable, and she loved her grandfathers lake. He warned her never to go there alone without him, but one day, while he was gone fishing, she snuck out. She walked along the deck and hung her feet over th...
I started throwing clothes into my duffle bag, holding back tears soon to come. He grabbed my arm with a jerk, forcing me to meet his forrest green eyes. I always hated those eyes. I hated how every time I looked into them it was like nothing else in the world mattered except us two. They always reminded me of a beautiful forrest, and now I’ll never be able to look at nature the same way.
“What a...
The spell broke, and just like that, she could see everything with fresh eyes. She could see her hands, with blood dripping down. She could feel the wind blowing against her ripped t-shirt. And she had never been happier in her life. No longer was she bound by the twisted spell which clouded her vision. She was free. Hazel turned to her left and saw Jack in the corner, coughing and spitting up blo...