She watched the snow fall outside from where she sat on the cream coloured arm chair. She sat, holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa close to her chest, along with her knees. She was silent as she thought, watching the calm falling snow start to turn into a swirling rage.
It got colder and darker. The college student got up and walked to the heater and turned the dial to the lowest heat. It wouldn’t do much, but she...

In the river I can see pebbles,
Various shades of grey, white, and black,
As many as there are stars in the sky.
 
In the river I can see fish,
Rainbow comets flying passed,
Faster than the eye can follow.
 
In the river I can see water,
An easy flow of shades of blue,
Light, dark, mixed, separated.
 
In the river I can see ducks,
Brown contrasting with blue,
Guiding the chicks that follow in lines.
  ...

.
.
.

I wanted to tell her why.
I wanted to tell her what was hurting me.
I wanted to tell her everything.

But no words came out of my mouth.
They sat on my tongue like prisoners held back by chains;
they were running forward,
fighting the chains,
screaming to be heard.

But it all fell on deaf ears, blind eyes, and oblivious minds.

I can remember. The memory feels as if it was happening right before me still. I viewed it in slow motion. Over and over and over and over again. Oh! If only it were really happening again right now: I could do something!
 
But it’s not. It’s just a memory – just a stain of red on white innocence.
 
I can remember. We were young boys, not yet grown into our handsome. We skipped along like the children we...

 There’s just something about the moon, I don’t know what, but there was something. It was beautiful, that’s for sure. No one could persuade me otherwise. Maybe it was the way the rock glowed, lighting up the sky and casting its diamond-blue glow down to earth and to my eyes, shimmering across the childish gleam in my eyes. Or maybe it was the way it made time seem like a forgotten memory.
Unfortunately, not in this case.
We had been...

“Once upon a time,” I started, trying to calm my little sister.
She wasn’t my biological sister, but she was all I had in this dark place.
“There was a young little princess. She had long dark brown hair that reminded people of chocolate.” She giggled when she realised I was talking about her. A few other of my adopted sibling came over, all younger than me.
“The princess was named Isabelle.” I said.
It wasn’t my sisters real name....

"I never stood a chance, did I?" I asked, sighing in defeat, letting my arms fall to my sides.
"That's the sad part- you did once-"
"Once!" I screamed at her. "Once! Once..."

She watched me, not fazed by my sudden outburst. This was one of the few times she was this calm, letting me think.

"Once... Once, I was a child. I was happy and carefree, just like any child. And as a child did, I made my parents...