Literature

Journal Of Anywhere After Time — Chapter 2:

By: Fuqi Zhang (11)

30: Solitude I

In an instant, a violent violet flash.

A million shattered eyes appear, as the judgment of her erratic sword, the unforgiving stare of a single lilac eye, fractures time.

Her majesty, ruthless violet, severe and cruel. No one stands in her way, no one dares. Orbs that abide by none, long forgotten, now dull. Orbs that don’t glow anymore, a neverending cull of folklore.

As she remains impervious, her eyes glow bright purple, but without light, without remorse, without life.

37: Dear fox

Dear fox, tell me what hides.

The searing sand behind us, buried ruins of sometime before.

The clock shines, hands emerge from an inner self lingering from the past. Memories of someplace far away, tomorrow, or the day after.

Dear fox, tell me your name.

I have forgotten. The wind carried away the could’ve beens, the sand, and you.

Dear fox, tell me the truth.

By: Anonymous

The minute I told her that I didn’t want children, she freaked out. Her ideals remained intact, and she began to blabber. No man will want you then, how will you attract them? She spoke, her words were attempting to persuade me. I tried telling that later on I might change my mind. She didn’t listen. You can’t tell that to men, she said, or you’ll never get one. I sighed, the ideals from the 1950 remained. I pretended to agree, pretended I wanted to follow what society once expected of me. Too late, too little, too sad. You wont get any guys, she says, you’ll end up all alone. I wanted my mind to wander, I wanted her words to leave. In out, in out, I panted, heaved, speeding, my escape from her misogynistic expectations. She pushed me to cook and clean, and ignore my work, and the expectations from school.

Why would you need them? You won’t work.

don’t wish for a husband, or a child You will, she says, every woman does.

I carefully kneel, one of my legs resting on the concrete floor, hard and upsetting, a wake up call from my reminiscing of the conversation I suffered through last night. I hummed along to the song that was currently playing in my ear. I bent the lace from one side to the other, standing up, as I did, I looked behind me, admiring what I had run, the distance, the foliage and trees. I was stunned to see unknown eyes that looked up and down and up again. Creep, weird, not usual. The man was standing ready to run, ready to chase me home. In out, in out, I panted, heaved. Invading thoughts continued to run through my mind, the faster I ran to escape it all, the man, the words, the toxic thoughts, the faster they all chased. Memory ran along with me, through the lane I always tried to ignore and escape. Sit like a lady, don’t provoke boys, they like tidy, and pretty, and tiny and small. The quieter the better, most obedient the best. I’d be his perfect wife, serve the steak and dust his shoes, I ran faster escaping the thoughts, the creep, the words my grandma said. The more the child cried the faster I ran. She’d always repeated them, she always wanted me to be the perfect housewife because that is all she ever knew and all she could teach. Too late, too little, too sad. Good posture, innocent eyes, innocent behaviour as well.

Wait for the right one, she said, they’ll treat you well. If you don’t like them, too bad, just let them try again.

By: Locke Lamora (11)

There was a time, once. When all I did was dream. Dream about you. There was a time when everything that was bad in my mind just… blew away when

I saw you. A time when I would wake up in the middle of the night wondering if you were cold or not. If you were sad or happy. If you saw me the way I saw you. A time when I couldn’t think of anything else. It was there, even if it didn’t last.

Then there came the time when our worlds collided. The time when I couldn’t stop smiling. The time when

I grew happier with every moment I spent by your side. The time when with you, I was free. I was me. You were the light in my eyes, the thoughts in my head, the heart in my chest. You were everything. You deserved good things, and I was determined to be one

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of them. At night, it was just me, you and the moon. I never felt more alive than in those moments when I saw you smile at a text, or laugh at something you read, or just staring out the window, a beautiful faraway look in your eyes. I know that you loved me. I know you cared, no matter how long it lasted. I know you want me to forget it; maybe you have forgotten, but I remember the dark. I remember the gnawing in my heart. I remember the gaping hole staring at me everyday…. Creeping closer. I remember the yells and the sound of fist on skin, the feel of my hair tearing out of my body. Mostly, though, I remember your hand in mine through it all. Pulling me from the dark, pushing me back from the hole, covering my ears to drown out the noise. Hugging me until I forgot all my sadness. Holding me. Protecting me. Picking up my pieces and putting them back together. Touching me, showing me how to survive. Your lips singing sweet lullabies when I couldn’t sleep. Kissing my wounds away, keeping the cold at bay. Your eyes, screaming your love for me when everyone said otherwise. I remember it all. It’s forever engraved into my heart.

I suppose I should have seen it coming, but love isn’t called blind for nothing. I just figured it wouldn’t be deaf too, but even after all those words, all those knives cutting into me slowly, I can’t seem to be able to get you out of my mind. You tore my heart out and smiled at me while you stepped on it. Smiled at my screams, laughed at my hurt. How is it that the one person who made me feel better was the one person who found the way to completely empty me out? How is it that I wasn’t enough for you? What did I do to mess up? Can’t you at least tell me that? Please tell me. Then maybe someday when I fix my heart, someday when I can see light again…. I won’t get hurt so badly. Do you know what hurts the most? The memories. Happy memories. The laughter, the tears, the kisses, the running in the dark, the nights. The songs, oh yes, the music. I still remember the songs you told me to listen to. I have a playlist for them. I can’t seem to stop myself from listening to them every night. I listen through the pain because I feel that much closer to you. The pain…. The pain is something I will never be able to recover from. It was the type of pain that is alive. The type of pain that is constantly running through your veins like poison, cracking your bones and fixing them, just so that it can crack them again. The type of pain that pretends to leave you for a while, then comes rushing back and kicking you fully in the stomach. I felt it, I felt it during every moment of every day. Even when I slept, I felt it. It was like a monster whispering your words in my mind, words that once made my heart swell instead of shrivelling in its place. I miss you. I wish I didn’t, God I pray every night that I would wake up the next day without your absence weighing on me as heavily, but I still miss you. I try not to, trust me, I do. I tried, I try, I am trying, but I am tired. Tired of that ever-present agony, tired of feeling. Tired of the silence, the tears, and of course the pain. Tired. So tired. Tired to my soul. It will fade, I know. It all fades; the ache, the struggle. One side wins, one side always wins. It doesn’t mean that I won’t feel it until then, though. Doesn’t mean that I won’t cry. And most of all? It doesn’t mean that I will forget you. Because I can’t now, and I won’t then. When all the pain fades… I’ll still remember it. When the sun comes, I’ll still remember. Forever until I die, I will remember.