tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42005271886525642542012-02-02T10:45:24.431-08:00Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-32230244372346192722009-10-09T21:58:00.001-07:002009-10-09T21:58:48.713-07:00<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Yearning</span></b></span></div><div><br /></div>"I miss you so much.<div>Jake, I really do...</div><div>Why'd you do this to me?</div><div>Where'd you go?"<div>Judith pined, sobbing out to the gloom that blanketed the sky,</div><div>her heartbeat in rhythm to the tears of the heavens.</div><div>Her mood was clearly parallel to that of the heavy clouds.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Who am I kidding...</div><div>WHO am I trying to kid..."</div><div>She slammed her palms against the glass panes,</div><div>which reverberated menacingly,</div><div>and leaped out her window,</div><div>her limbs outspread, in a frenzy, to vent</div><div>all the overdue frustration.</div><div>Not even the strong winds can stop her</div><div>from falling four levels down, now.</div><div><br /></div><div>The evening was dark and dreary with rain-</div><div>so perfect.</div><div>The limp body of Judith bounced off</div><div>the trampoline her dad had bought for her</div><div>fifteenth birthday.</div><div>"Funny... I didn't hit the edges today.</div><div>My subconscious aim is getting so much better..."</div><div>She lay there, motionless for a while,</div><div>as she took in the cold trickles, letting</div><div>her tears blend in.</div><div>She didn't care if the neighbours saw</div><div>her sprawled out, so unglamorous,</div><div>on a ridiculously huge trampoline.</div><div>She was sick of the unpredictable</div><div>waves of fatigue and melancholy,</div><div>especially when she had too much time by her own,</div><div>and the rain was too tantalizing to move away from, anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>Dragging herself off the finally-stilled trampoline,</div><div>Judith tore through the rain around her neighbourhood,</div><div>immersed in her world of Gramophone and</div><div>uncaring of the cars that whizzed by her side.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's been years.</div><div>No call. No indication. No concern.</div><div>"What was I to make of this?</div><div>That I did something wrong?</div><div>That you left for another?</div><div>Knowing could have helped so much more."</div><div>Judith felt so much like tearing her own skin apart,</div><div>except that she lacked the strength nor</div><div>the boldness to hurt herself, too much.</div><div>Instead, she let the angst and disappointment</div><div>lead her along her estate,</div><div>so that she could not feel her legs anymore,</div><div>that her arms soured and stitches played up in her sides,</div><div>but still, she ran on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Judith was always running.</div><div>In reality, in her dreams/ nightmares.</div><div>She often woke up, a fraction from screaming,</div><div>drenched in sweat.</div><div>She hated running,</div><div>hated the things she ran from.</div><div>Sometimes, she hated herself.</div><div><br /></div><div>She understood the mechanics of life, though.</div><div>Guys were always likely to leave for a more voluptuous lady,</div><div>one who had the looks-</div><div>big eyes, sharp nose, small lips, high cheekbones-,</div><div>who had a sharp tongue.</div><div>She's seen too many friends lose out,</div><div>and every time they did, she felt their pain.</div><div>And she, more than anyone else, knew</div><div>that, in a fight like this,</div><div>she will definitely lose out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Judith lacked the long, lean legs that could seduce,</div><div>the luscious locks boys dug their head into,</div><div>the slender silhouette to get into tight-fit clothes,</div><div>the facial features which stood out.</div><div>She didn't really give a damn about these</div><div>feminine worries till Jake forced her to</div><div>delve into it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was as if all that he'd ever told her</div><div>were pieces of TV.</div><div>The closeness he displayed seemed an act,</div><div>the moments they shared likened a dress rehearsal,</div><div>every kiss was just practice for perfection...</div><div>his perfection.</div><div>As if coming from a broken family wasn't</div><div>enough trauma...</div><div><br /></div><div>She immediately felt the knife stab</div><div>and dashed through the last stretch of road</div><div>before plunging onto her bed,</div><div>thoroughly soaked.</div><div>Judith crumpled into a ball</div><div>and sobbed herself to a dwindling heartbeat</div><div>against the London sky, while</div><div>her windows lay wide opened, her</div><div>curtains snaking up the walls,</div><div>and while shadows played across her ceiling.</div><div>Enough.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like all stupid depressed females</div><div>with a broken heart,</div><div>a bottle, a broken empty glass and spilled pills</div><div>laid, abandoned,</div><div>at the corner of the bed.</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-3223024437234619272?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-17384231906288852512009-10-05T23:40:00.000-07:002009-10-09T21:57:58.901-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 13px; font-family:'century gothic';font-size:13px;"><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Trekker</span></span></b></div><div><br /></div><div>Ray walked out of the conference,</div><div>fresh with information and</div><div>sputtering with motivation and determination.</div><div>The biting winter frost would not dampen</div><div>her warmed heart.</div><div>The talk by Prof. Richard had been enriching</div><div>and fulfilling.</div><div>She thought about all the rewards that awaited</div><div>her budding invention-</div><div>her fuel.</div><div>She would be radical.</div><br /><div></div><div>Ray giggled at the mere thought of</div><div>breaking out of the stupendous</div><div>male-dominant trend that ran,</div><div>haughty and obnoxious, in her office.</div><div>Disgusting promiscuous fools with their</div><div>poor strained suits.</div><div>She could die laughing if their</div><div>buttons gave way.</div><div>Oh, the joy of commanding them the way</div><div>they did over her.</div><div>She would point her newly manicured nails</div><div>at them and throw sarcastic remarks</div><div>on their efforts.</div><div>They were the reason she hated work.</div><div>And now, she had its remedy.</div><div>She left the office on clouds.</div><br /><div>For weeks, she had frustrated herself over her goal,</div><div>focused on perfecting the solution</div><div>to handling lost kids in the mall.</div><div>Every day gone was a day closer to</div><div>the dateline.</div><div>Her colleagues gave her no break and</div><div>often tried to persuade her to let go of her task,</div><div>in their efforts to precede her.</div><div>They were a thread's width close to claiming her.</div><div>But still, that space counted-</div><div>And she broke through.</div><br /><div>The boss liked her idea</div><div>and Prof. Richard commended</div><div>her thoughtfulness.</div><div>For Ray, it was more than a dream come true-</div><div>To win the Inventors' Award (held every half a decade)</div><div>of her company and receive public</div><div>acknowledgement by Prof. Richard.</div><div><br /></div><div>All behind her glazed smiles,</div><div>she shoved mental socks down the snobbish</div><div>throats of her alligator-teared colleagues,</div><div>stifled the need to point The finger</div><div>and recited empty words of thanks to the</div><div>unsupportive managers and uncaring welfare members.</div><div>Tonight, she will be an</div><div>educated and refined lady of great heights.</div><div>Ray was a devout believer of Irony.</div><br /><div>Trekker got patented the week after its announcement</div><div>and while there were many controversies,</div><div>a fairly large percentage surveyed supported the idea.</div><div>No one liked to be in the dark of the places</div><div>their loved ones were in and</div><div>Trekker had promised no side effect.</div><div>The only thing its receiver would feel is</div><div>equivalent to receiving an injection-</div><div>a plus point of the product-</div><div>and then wake up to the life he</div><div>had left as so, without</div><div>memory pertaining to its implantation.</div><br /><div>Reports of lost kids, found, were rejoiced</div><div>upon the screens of homes for a period</div><div>before the excitement slowly dwindled as</div><div>they shadowed into common news.</div><div>None came back negative as yet and Ray</div><div>muttered thanks to God for that</div><div>stroke of luck.</div><br /><div>But things had not always been gliding for Ray.</div><div>She began to feel invisible stares upon her back</div><div>and sourcing it out was always to no avail.</div><div>Initially, she dismissed it to the growing</div><div>load of work and research credited to her ability.</div><div>But such increasing occurrences</div><div>streamed along an uneasiness, reignited</div><div>from her high school years, in which</div><div>she experienced her greatest fear.</div><br /><div>Gullibly, she pushed it to the thought</div><div>that her jealous colleagues were trying to get back at her.</div><div>But something about such movements</div><div>tingled the back of her head</div><div>and she found herself wading in nightmares</div><div>dubbed in snippets of teenage years.</div><div>Uneasiness had her spend more time in the office.</div><br /><div>Much like a scene in horror movies,</div><div>Ray walked along the secluded streets,</div><div>where stray trash clankered down</div><div>a sloped curb and leaves would</div><div>swirl around the same spot.</div><div>Images of a cup of hot chocolate and a comedy</div><div>waiting for her at home</div><div>kept her from hitting the pub.</div><div>A soft sigh escaped</div><div>when the thought of winter</div><div>last year pulled Taylor into the picture.</div><div>She missed the times she'd wake up,</div><div>snug and comfortable in his arms</div><div>and when they shared times in the kitchen,</div><div>trying for an unprecedented concoction of</div><div>the ultimate berry tart.</div><div>She wondered if he missed her</div><div>as much as she did.</div><div>The kind of yearning that</div><div>had her promise herself that</div><div>she would hug him so tight when</div><div>he next returned.</div><div>If only he didn't have to go overseas...</div><div><br /></div><div>She pulled her coat tighter against her</div><div>as a new wave of breeze washed over,</div><div>her hair caught in the tethers of</div><div>the gushing wind.</div><div>Engrossed in the fusion of Bloc Party,</div><div>she turned into her street-</div><div>and immediately got pulled into an alley.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was such a fast and violent action,</div><div>she didn't even have time to scream or think,</div><div>but immediately felt a piercing sensation</div><div>on her neck.</div><div>It wasn't long before the walls</div><div>started to flicker in monochrome.</div><div>yellow.</div><div>purple.</div><div>orange.</div><div>grey...</div><br /><div>Then she felt a grubby finger stroke</div><div>her neck and had her earphones removed</div><div>to hear the sound of passing cars.</div><div>"I'm here. Oh gracious. I'm here.</div><div>What the hell is happening?</div><div>Someone, please come get me.</div><div>I can't fragging move."</div><div>She could cry in fear now,</div><div>for when she felt the front of a body</div><div>crush against her back,</div><div>everything flooded her.</div><div>Only that she was numbed</div><div>and she could move nothing except her eyes.</div>Even her tear guts weren't working.<div>The amount of profanities flashing,</div><div>furious in her head, was more than</div><div>she had ever swore in her entire lifetime.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Laid on the floor, blindfolded, her thoughts</div><div>started to vaporize when she felt</div><div>the chill and hard of the floor.</div><div>Ray struggled mentally to stay awake,</div><div>forcing Taylor to materialize before her.</div><div>Yet, the words she heard next</div><div>pried her finger open from the last rung-</div><div style="text-align: left; ">" I've always wanted to do this..."</div><div style="text-align: left; ">The sound of a belt buckle against the floor;</div><div style="text-align: left; ">then, blank.</div></div></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-1738423190628885251?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-13695148925687416532008-12-09T09:12:00.000-08:002008-12-30T08:43:19.878-08:00<em>Hugh. They let any stranger into the studio these days. Forget it. </em><br />I turn away from the rude stranger that has intruded into my sanctuary--<br />The only place where my thoughts can come and go,<br />where I am allowed by the world to be the wonderer I need to be.<br /><br />On the landing of the last flight of stairs, I already hear them looking for me.<br />"Make-up! We're gonna start again in 5!"<br />The day that Gill stops yelling would be the day of world peace.<br />"Where's Ray? She must be wonderin' off again! Find her!"<br />"I'm here, I'm here."<br />And the day that I'd love her again...<br />"Seth!" That tore a hole into my thoughts,"We must get this right! I know you can do this. What's gotten into you today, kid? Get out there and give it one last shot."<br />Getting down on my knees on the set-up tiles, I held my seemingly pain-wrought and bleeding co-star in my arms-- just a second ago she was sauntering over with a nibble of her baguette in her mouth.<br /><br />"Take 4! Crying Scene! Action!"<br /><br />Blank tears start forming in my eyes and empty words of passion start spilling out,<br />worlds apart from the ones I cried to her, the ones I whispered to her.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-1369514892568741653?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-30419864851750010392008-09-17T02:12:00.000-07:002008-09-17T02:16:54.394-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><em><span style="font-family:times new roman;"><u>Accidents</u></span></em><br /></span><br />The clouds finally parted for the shy sun, which had been hiding behind them for the past few days. The day should be good. The warmth and brightness is emotionally pleasing. As the last bell rang for students to assemble in the school hall, handful of students scattered all around the compound made a beeline to the main building, with the discipline master already hot on their heels, his whistle blown rudely at the reluctant students.<br /><br />My class was famed for being the most fun, with equivalent number of boys and girls, balancing out the shyness of the ladies and the vigour of the men. Things were always well for my class... except for the case of Gerald. Gerald was a scrawny boy. Donned with a thick pair of black spectacles and always seen with a bulging bag which threatened to have him topple over backwards, he was, in no time, given the name of 'dork' by other schoolmates.<br /><br />This did not bother my class one bit as geek he may be, he was always the one to usher in trophies and awards for excellent academic performances and for that, we were proud of him. The class has always protected him from bullies in the school. They, unfortunately, could not be there for him all the time.<br /><br />This day, the tree leaves rustled and its weak stems swayed. It was the monsoon season and the ominous clouds plagued the region by the early afternooon once more, rolling over each other, creating layers of dark clouds, and threatened to hurl their contents to the ground. No longer did I first thought of the beauty of nature, the storm started. The rain splashed against the window panes noisily and wind trying to seek shelter in the classrooms howled angrily at our refusal to open the windows. The water level started to augment as the rain continued for hours.<br /><br />Everyone craved for a bowl of hot noodles and headed towards the canteen to warm themselves during recess. All except Gerald, who stayed in class to study for the history test to be held on the next day. Along the way to the library, he inadvertently bumped against Japhef, the widest boy in the level, apparently too engrossed in the textbook. As his muttered apology went unheard, Japhef twirled Gerald around by the arm and started hurling profanities at him.<br /><br />Japhef was infamous. His large build had contributed to his confidence and he found joy in challenges- physical challenges. Japhef's sidekicks dragged Jerald back to their class and Gerald, afraid to the point of turning pale, trembled as he was led to the most notorious class. He was heading for the Lions' Den, and he had no help.<br /><br />It was a ruckus in the classroom. Bits of paper lay neglected on the floor and the smell of sweat intertwined with strong deodorant intoxicated Gerald, causing his nose to wrinkle in disgust. People were seen crowded around a corner of the classroom. There was a wrestling match. Gerald glanced at the clock nervously.<br />'Fifteen minutes, fifteen more minutes and they will come look for me'<br />he sought to pacify himself.<br /><br />Japhef's two bulky friends held Gerald tight as he tried to escape from looking at people receiving punches and kicks in their groins. He squealed and winced as if experiencing the pain as he witnessed the acts of violence, until attention was on him and Japhef stepped into the 'ring', a smile playing on his lips, beckoning him forward.<br /><br />He could wet himself in fear. People were cheering but the room seemed blur. Forcefully pushed into the empty centre as girls around squealed for Japhef's imminent victory, Gerald became flustered and began begging for mercy, pouring out his apology.<br />'Ten more minutes. Oh God, please!'<br />his mind pleaded.<br /><br />'Oh no, Gerald. Accidents do happen, I'm aware..but with me, accidents do not go off without consequences,'<br />Japhef's tone was arrogant as he looked down upon a kneeling Gerald.<br />'Let's begin.'<br /><br />Cheers erupted and blanketed Gerald's screams. He has not told anyone. He has not told anyone why he never joined the class for Physical Education, why he was always buried in books and why he could not feel too much- he had a weak heart.<br /><br />As he took on the blows of Japhef, struggling to stand, he heard girls' squeals become urgent warnings but he could only see blurry outlines. He felt a sick twisting sensation in his chest and doubled over in pain. He felt his uniform become wet as light started to fill his eyes. Then, blank.<br /><br />The whole class stood outside the operating theatre, with Japhef's class at the other end. Some girls from my class were crying while the boys stood solemn, occasionally casting a glare at Japhef.<br /><br />The police had been called in and were speaking to Gerald's father as his mother sobbed quietly at his side. The light of the operating theatre went off as a doctor walked out. Snippets of the conversation was heard and the girls stopped crying in relief. Gerald was still with us.<br /><br />The policewoman then went over and handcuffed Japhef and his two pigs while they started to protest. The members of the class looked away in shame and guilt as the policewoman handled them. As they made their exit, Japhef let out a violent outburst<br />'BUT IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT!'<br />and my class smiled as the policewoman replied sternly.<br />'Accidents do happen, I'm aware but yours is too frequent and in the eyes of the law, they are not without consequences...'<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-3041986485175001039?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-42532528252829334452008-08-03T04:15:00.000-07:002008-12-27T08:16:05.007-08:00<u>Seth</u><br /><u></u><br />I am on the ends of the world.<br />The soles of my shoes scraping the edges of the cliff, inch by inch.<br />Even something as insignificant as a silent whisper of her breath can throw me off and send me falling into... ...<br /><br />"Hugh!"<br />I look up.<br /><br /><br /><u></u><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-4253252825282933445?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-77662631650571195062008-07-18T09:14:00.000-07:002008-12-27T08:14:07.165-08:00On the rooftop is where my thoughts can come and go,<br />where I am allowed by the world to be the wonderer I so naturally am.<br />A cooling breeze brushes the contours of my face.<br />The noise from the cars below reminds me of where I am.<br />On Earth.<br /><em></em><br /><em><u>Seth Greene starring as Cassie Harrington (Lead)</u></em><br /><br />The neatly printed black words are staring back at me.<br /><em>Seth... ... </em><br />I puff a sigh and almost angrily place the paper creased with folds on the empty seat beside me.<br /><em>Ugh. You're obssesed</em>. Thinking to myself with great disgust.<br />But the thing is,<br />not one day that passed by that my urgent need to know his name did not grow.<br />I naively wondr why. I am in denial.<br /><br />Just then, I hear a single footstep drag on the ground and then stop.<br />Rising from the bench,<br />I turn around to identify the intruder.<br />Immediately I hear a gasp. <em>Was it me?</em><br /><br />This is the first time I see my reflection in his eyes,<br />but they are angry...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-7766263165057119506?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-21648777448403758012008-07-11T19:41:00.000-07:002008-12-27T08:10:00.940-08:00I've never felt so invisible in my entire life.<br /><em></em>Even when it could'nt be any more attention deprived.<br /><em>I could cry... ...</em><br /><br />But who am I to complain?<br />Of course,<br />in their eys,<br />I am nothing but a part of the background in their lives.<br /><br /><em>Ha. Movie stars. </em>I laugh without humour.<br /><br />---<br /><br />It seems strange how things turned out,<br />that 5 years ago I was living in the past era.<br />Yes, we were royalty,<br />but royalty to a secluded land that has hardly emerged from its well.<br />How we are oblivious about these modernized places, I don't know.<br /><br />After we ran away,<br />we practically wandered around and stumbled across civilisation.<br />Saph and I struggled.<br />It was scary for us at first,<br />seeing cars and people wearing jeans,<br />but it didn't take long to finally blend in.<br /><br />---<br /><br /><em>It's cold again tonight, and quiet.</em><br />I can hear my footsteps thumping on the pavement.<br />It's a long walk home.<br />I open the door and see Saph sleeping at the dining table,<br />the cake I wanted in front of her.<br /><br />Time: 2.34AM<br /><br /><em>This is why she is the best friend anyone could have. </em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-2164877744840375801?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-43866099866008234022008-07-11T02:24:00.000-07:002008-12-27T08:05:02.074-08:00{5 years later}<br /><br />"Mornin' Ray! How's our little 21 year old doing?" Saph was smiling from ear to ear. <em>That cheeky face.</em><br />"Yea, okay! I admit I was wrong. Your present is totally awesome," I rolled my eyes, but couldn't hide the smile.<br />"Hyea! Duh! Ha ha. Mmm, but you have to work today." A frown creased over her forehead.<br />"I'll be fine. I love my job. I would be upset if I had to miss my job on my birthday."<br />"Well, okay. Oh! You better go now before you delay their shoot."<br />"Dammit! I'm late a-gain! See ya tonight Saph! And you better be holding that cake we saw at the bakery!"<br />"Got it, got it. Go!"<br /><br /><em>Key, key, key...</em><br /><em>Into the ignition... ...</em><br /><em>Drive!</em><br />BANG!<br />"What the... ...?"<br /><em>Argh! I forgot to open the gates!</em><br /><br />---<br /><br />"Taxi!" Luck is on my side.<br /><em>Whoo</em>! <em>I improved. Only 15 minutes late.</em><br />Hastily getting ready, a stout man with a tomato-red face comes yelling at me.<br />As usual, I tune him out and he stomps away grumbling.<br />At this moment a cast member sat down in the high chair beside me.<br /><em>Ah. My first face to draw. Wonder who's the lucky fella. </em>I smiled to myself.<br />I don't have a habit of getting to know the stars I work for. I just work...<br /><br />"Okay, let's see that face." As I lift my head from the powder and brush I held in my hands, I see a face. His face.<br />I can't move.<br />He is looking away, yet without the enchanting power of his gaze, my breath has escaped me. My knees are'nt supporting me excellently either.<br />If our eyes met, I wonder if I'd collapse.<br />Maybe because his every outline is God-like,<br />and something more... ...<br /><br />"We haven't got all day woman!" Tomato Man is back.<br />I must've been standing here, rigid as stone, staring and mouth slightly open.<br />Snapping out of it, I argued lamely, "Dude! I-I was just examining his skin tone. I'm doing my job okay!"<br /><br />I revert my gaze back to Him (too eagerly).<br />He's still in the same position --<br />laid-back, arms propped up on the arm rest...<br />looking away.<br /><em>What's he thinking about?!</em><br /><br />Taking my first step towards him, I anticipate his eyes that would burn right down to my heart as he would, as I expect, finally notice my presence and turn his gaze to meet mine.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-4386609986600823402?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-40459867404555798342008-07-11T01:20:00.000-07:002008-12-08T05:57:42.562-08:00<u>Alatariel</u><br /><u></u><br /><em>Breathe.<br />Clothes, soap, petticoats, sums... ...<br />Am i forgetting something?<br />HUGH!<br />Grandma's golden box! I can't believe i almost forgot...</em><br /><em>It's almost time,</em><br /><em>breathe.</em><br /><br />---<br /><br /><em>Tonight's so cold... ... </em><br /><br />---<br /><br /><em>Saph is smiling. </em><br /><em>We're running so fast...</em><br /><em>The guards will be nearby any minute now.</em><br /><em>I'm gasping for air!</em><br /><em>It's so dark, but i see the towering gates now.</em><br /><em>Oh, freedom.</em><br /><em></em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-4045986740455579834?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>SOPHIEhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01908572864265727292noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-61940601850123968962008-07-01T18:44:00.000-07:002008-07-04T07:24:59.750-07:00when she saw the effects of makeup,<br />alatariel loved it.<br />she loved how it<br />could transform a face<br />with just colours<br />and their contrasting shades.<br />her medium -- as an artist<br />is not a paintbrush and a canvas.<br />rather, they were<br />make up brushes and a face (plain).<br />make up was her form of art,<br />unlike many other girls.<br />--<br />because she was kept<br />in the castle all the time,<br />alatariel made friends<br />with the servants for company.<br />she had a bestfriend named Saph.<br />well, that was short for Sapphire,<br />her mother's favourite gem.<br />Alatariel found Saph sitting<br />alone in a corner of the royally large,<br />empty kitchen one day,<br />legs drawn tight to her chest,<br />sobbing quietly but uncontrollably.<br />they were both eight.<br />Alatariel approached Saph and<br />squatted in front of her in an unladylike stance,<br />(not to mention <em><span style="font-family:times new roman;">unprincesslike</span></em>.)<br />" Please stop crying.<br />My name is Alatariel.<br />Would you be my friend? "<br />looking up, Saph responded,<br />"Ella-ray-tiol? "<br />Alatariel giggled angelically,<br />"You could just call me Ray."<br />"But that's a boy's name!"<br />"It's funny!"<br />Both of them smiled widely back at each other,<br />Alatariel's fallen tooth gap now visible.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-6194060185012396896?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-10414378392871092002008-06-24T03:20:00.000-07:002008-06-27T03:46:39.879-07:00from a tender age,<br />Alatariel had a gift for art,<br />body art.<br />she had a gift for colours; fashion.<br /><br />when her mother showered her with<br />clothes and assesories as she grew older,<br />she knew how to match her dresses perfectly.<br />she could conjure beauty out of rags.<br /><br />then when she turned 13,<br />her mother gave her her first<br />makeup kit<br />so that she could look her best at functions<br />and present herself appropriately<br />as <em><span style="font-family:times new roman;">Princess of Phileschaund.</span></em><br /><br />she had loved it,<br />keeping it in a special golden box<br />her great grandmother had left her with.<br />it was an intricately carved wooden box<br />of different patterns and oriental flowers<br />with gold powder delicately sprinkled on.<br /><br />whenever she opened its lid,<br />her greatgrandmother would<br />be smiling warmly at her,<br />driving all the blues away.<br />alatariel would stroke her great<br />grandmother's face but could only<br />try to remember what she had once<br />shared with this lady she loved dear.<br /><br />supported by its 4 bowed legs<br />that ended with an elegant twirl,<br />the box was Alatariel's prized possession<br />and the only reminder of her past.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-1041437839287109200?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-40252217453240576262008-06-17T18:16:00.000-07:002008-06-27T03:19:57.541-07:00it was just months before<br />she found herself at the end of the road.<br />why didn't they let her do what she wanted,<br />why didn't they let her discover her love,<br />why didn't they let her expose her talent?<br /><br />she couldn't answer.<br />no,she couldn't.<br />she envied the kids on the streets<br />when she travelled along the serpentine road,<br />sitting on a plush couch in her carriage.<br /><br />she admired the way<br />fathers put their children on their shoulders,<br />giving their tired little legs a rest.<br />she admired the kids who could<br />run wildly,weaving through legs,<br />playing a game of catch.<br /><br />she coveted their childhood.<br />she wanted memories like they would<br />have when they grew up.<br />she yearned for it,<br />longed for memories more than anything else.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-4025221745324057626?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4200527188652564254.post-55695559375592076802008-06-10T05:07:00.000-07:002008-06-10T05:12:29.414-07:00a sigh escaped her<br />as she stared out into the petering rain,<br />separated from her by a film of glass.<br />space.<br />money.<br />grandeur.<br />reputation.<br />she had everything,<br />everything the poor wished for.<br />but she had nothing the poor had.<br />she had nothing that she desired..<br /><br />its been weeks since her servants<br />donned her with jewels,<br />party dresses,white long gloves<br />and did her hair to a high bun.<br />funny how she didnt miss that.<br />funny how she never missed her parents.<br />king...queen.<br />what for?<br />she didnt give a damn.<br />she'd give them a miss.<br /><br />she closed her eyes in pain<br />as a tear cascaded to the floor...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4200527188652564254-5569555937559207680?l=starevlight.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Vaun Raurkerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11338895581300974260noreply@blogger.com0