(The Dead Musicians’ Support Group)

The room was dead. Peeling wallpapers and broken lights… it was as dead as our motivation.

“Great. A new spider family has settled for that corner,” Lun said, jumping away from the wall in disgust. “I should really buy that bug spray.”

“Hey, let them be,” exclaimed Sunny, ever the peacemaker, walking to the corner.

“Umm…” came a voice from the corridor. “Hel...

“But you could come with me!” I pleaded, desperation pouring out my eyes.

I stood before my childhood friend in the meadow. We would always meet up after school. This was our routine for years. Even now, at our high school graduation.

Though today, it seemed more like a confrontation than a mere meeting.

Or perhaps, a proposal.

And its rejection.

—

We had been walking in the local meadow. Nothi...

**(WARNING: violent, psychological horror?, mention of death)**

A delicate bundle of feathers. An elegant landing. A graceful ripple of waves.

The landing duck was truly a picturesque sight; it was a swift movement within the mist, setting up a picture that credited the art of photography.

But for the locals like me, it was a picture of quite the contrary.

It was hunting time.

The scary men p...

“You idiot!” Zane hissed, collapsing into a chair at Antarctica’s research centre. “How on earth could you bring THAT thing accidentally?!”

His research partner glared back into him with exhausted eyes, unable to formulate a response.

“I can’t tell whether you’re incompetent or a menace…” Zane said through gritted teeth. “… but you’ve left us both in a curious predicament.”

Both of them turned t...

[warning: deep topics]

They say escapism is detrimental,

And I’m in no position to disagree,

But there’s something in the darkness

That simply calls to me.

A world without the brightness;

A world without the noise;

A moment of peace where my

Eyelids shut the world out

Would be quite good for me.

But as the darkness lingers

And as my sight adjusts,

This dreamy, drunken state

Slowly starts to rust...

(Warning: “deep” themes possible)

The crown lay heavy on my head, more like a curse than a sign of power.

The heavy velvet clothing draped round me was always suffocating, weighing me down like chains, or quite literally so. It’s as if they grabbed seven curtains and decided to wrap it round me nineteen times, and call it iconic fashion.

I’m a royal.

I should be grateful.

But nobody in this kingd...

(Warning: violence/action)

He sprinted through the corridors. Dang it. He was no student athlete, in fact, quite the contrary. His stamina was running out in the first two minutes.

But despite the loud pounding of blood in his ears, and the agonising pain in his legs, he kept running.

He had to.

There was a monster in the radius.

A humanised, metaphorical beast.

-

After several minutes of desperat...

His eyes. Dang it, those observant eyes of his. Connected to his immaculate brain, he can survey the surroundings in an instant. His face is cold and calculating, ironically fitting for a genius like himself. But when he smiles, he flashes his perfectly symmetrical white pearls, and fine, it may capture the hearts of many, but it certainly will never capture mine.

He has a stupid smirk.

It’s a gr...

The students down the corridor

Walk hand in hand;

The nervous high schooler

Confesses, with an

Evident blush.

The girl opens the chocolates,

And the flowers,

And the cards.

It’s the day of love.

But this year,

Again I am the onlooker,

The person in the crowd,

Involuntarily spectating

Yearly performances

That I can never understand

For who could love an outcast?

A reject

A trash.

Who could write...

My earphones play “Heather”

By Conan Gray, and for all its irony,

I hold my sweater against me

in the mirror, despite the familiarity.

He gave me this sweater, so

How would I ever be able to let it go?

It is worth more to me than all

Of his little actions combined over the years.

Little smiles and waves,

Sharing equipment in school,

Texting me good night.

This, this was a material reminder.

His me...