Bubbly

I've been awake for a while now
You've got me feeling like a child now
'Cause every time I see your bubbly face
I get the tinglies in a silly place

The rain is falling on my windowpane
But we are hiding in a safer place
Hiding under covers staying dry and warm
You give me feelings that I adore

It starts in my toes
And I crinkle my nose
Wherever it goes I always know
You make me smile
Please stay for a while now
Just take your time
Wherever you go

What am I going to say
When you make me feel this way...

I've been asleep for a while now
You tucked me in like a child now
'Cause every time you hold me in your arms
I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth

It starts in my soul
And I lose all control
When you kiss my nose
The feeling shows
Just take your time
Holding me tight

***

"Bubbly" - Colbie Caillat

Hmm, this song is a nice song. It sounds like a very soothing and happy song.

But to me, it's a way a girl cries out to her beau, hoping that their relationship won't end.
However, some things are inevitable. Lovers stop loving each other. And then SNAFU.


Just take your time, wherever you go...

Broken

Passion
consumes,
overwhelms
me
Burn brighter!
Brighter!
Driven to excel
Glory!
The intensity
The fury
The epitome
of me.

Haunting,
the thought:
Have I traded
my soul?
Have I given
my all?
Have I? Have I?!

No, nooo!
All is sinking sand.
Darkness, sorrow, fear
surrounds me.

A broken will
Crushed hopes
Destructed dreams
Flood me over.

Disillusioned,
I cannot bear
To face the world
anymore.
I cannot bear
to love
to care
to wait
to dream
to see
the path ahead.

For even the brightest candle
burns out.

I. Am. Broken.

-Maia-

Beauty

Ah, enchanting beauty, what art thou?
Tinkling laughter ringing true?
The crown heaven bequeathed thy luscious locks upon?
The upturned lips that doth my heart melt?
Or the playful grin bearing sweet revenge?

Beyond me decision lies
Though if my choice be made
My heart doth say

The song of encouragement that singeth thy heart
The soul that stores a love so pure
Thy nurturing of spirit till overfloweth will
The knowledge that thou beside me ever until

Thy smile that groweth even as I watch
The pride that humility doth conceal
The mistakes that forgiveness does know not
Thy graciousness that first others will be still

Is where in you doth beauty lie
In the heart so vast the heavens sigh

-Asheroth-

Not While I'm Around

Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.
Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around.

Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,
I'll send 'em howling,
I don't care, I got ways.

No one's gonna hurt you,
No one's gonna dare.
Others can desert you,
Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there.

Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,
But in time...
Nothing can harm you
Not while I'm around...

Not to worry, not to worry
I may not be smart but I ain't dumb
I can do it, put me to it
Show me something I can overcome
Not to worry, mum...

Being close and being clever
Ain't like being true
I don't need to
I would never hide a thing from you
Like some...

Nothing's gonna harm you
Not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you, darlin'
Not while I'm around

Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while
But in time...
Nothing's gonna harm you
Not while I'm around...

-Not While I'm Around, Sweeney Todd Soundtrack

*not an original Edenia song

Afraid

He looked at her smiling face across the table. She was laughing, constantly moving, never sitting still. Her excited chatter filled the room.

She looked at him with laughter in her eyes. Her eyebrows asked a silent question.

He smiled back, to show that everything was alright. But even as he smiled, he wondered if his smile was sincere. Was everything really alright? He did a cursory examination of themselves and the past few days and couldn't see any cause for concern. Yet deep down inside he knew that something was out of place. He should be happy, but he wasn't. She was the girl of his dreams, beautiful in every way, and she loved him. She loved him. He still hadn't gotten over that bewildering, astonishing fact yet. And so he should be happy. But he wasn't. Why wasn't he happy??

His mind flashed back to the conversation they'd had a couple of days ago. "If we can remember the one thing that each of us loves most about the other," she had said, "I believe that we can get through anything."

Anything. That single word repeated itself over and over again in his mind. Anything. He wanted to believe it. No, he needed to believe it. This relationship meant more to him than any other he had experienced. With her, he experienced emotions and feelings so strong, so clear, that they completely overwhelmed him. Within the short time they had known each other, she had come to mean more to him then anything else in the world.

"You stole my heart," she had teased. "But I left mine behind," he had replied jokingly. But only now did he begin to understand what those words left unsaid. A feeling of utter vulnerability. They had come to mean so much to each other that the notion of the relationship not working out was terrifying. "Love is fragile," someone had once said to him. He had not understood then, believing that true love could withstand anything. But he understood now. Even the strongest and surest of relationships contained, at least in the beginning, an element of uncertainty. It was a paradox, really. The stronger the love that one feels for the other, the greater the uncertainty, vulnerability, fragility. Uncertainties that only time could dismiss. And all of a sudden he understood.

He was scared. He was afraid, frightened, terrified. Terrified that it wouldn't work out. Terrified that it was just a passing phase.

"I know," a voice said in his ear. He started and turned. She had suddenly appeared by his side.

"You're afraid," she said. "Of us."

He shook his head in astonishment. "You constantly amaze me, you know. The way you so easily read my mind."

She smiled. Then her face became serious, and she leaned in closer.

"I'm scared too," she whispered.

He turned towards her, his eyes full of questions. But she shook her head.

"Shhh," she said softly. "It's alright. I believe that together we can get through anything. I believe."

He smiled.

Why did you lie?

"...so Bobby's going to be fine. She just has to keep an eye on him."

"Uhm."

I suppressed an exasperated sigh, trying to keep my tone nonchalant as I lowered the menu and looked at him. His face unreadable, he stared down at the menu. He'd been staring at the same spot - No. 21 Cappucino Latte - for a few minutes now. Almost as if he was observing some change in those letters. This had to be the ninth time he replied me with an "uhm".

"Oh, and they also found an elephant in their fridge stealing their cheese and milk."

"So what about the ele-"

I'd slid into his couch before he realized what he'd said and started. He turned to face me like a dazed man who'd barely woken up from a dream.

"You're distracted."

I loosened his tie and sat back.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"It's nothing."

"Relax. Come on, something's bothering you."

I moved closer and angled myself into a position to massage his shoulders. He shrugged me off gently. I recoiled as though I'd been slapped. Something was really wrong. Something I didn't know about. Something he didn't want me to know about. I tried again in a calmer, steadier tone, swallowing my displeasure and keeping my hands to myself this time.

"Hey, I know something's wrong. You don't have to lie to me, you know? What's going on?"

"Never mind. Have you decided what you want? Maybe we should place our orders now."

I went back to my side of the couch, my imagination running wild with all sorts of unpleasant notions. I hated it when he did that. I hated the insecurity that came with being unsure; I hated knowing I wasn't privy to his thoughts. I hated feeling like I was being pushy. I hated feeling like I was losing touch...losing touch...losing touch...

No. No.

I woke up with a start, my heart beating rapidly. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare. Just paranoia. Just...nothing.

Or wasn't it?

-Maia-

[Author's note : The above piece is fiction, except for the parts that aren't. Some exaggerated. Some down-played. Lol.]

For each has the other's heart.

Consider this parallel: The tigress and her trainer.

She walks in circles around him, prowling, purring, playfully attacking. Her muscles ripple underneath her glossy flank; there is enough in her to rip apart a man. She manipulates him without a sound - she knows that she is spell-binding, awe-inspiring, magnificent. Almost seductive. She orbits him, her eyes trained on his signals.

The trainer watches her in silence, ever alert and conscious - conscious that he is fascinated by this queen. He does not attempt to disguise the visible effect she has on him, but is surprisingly adept at dodging her blows. He rotates on his axis, his eyes never leaving hers. They are wonderfully attuned to each other, both predicting the other's moves and seemingly enjoying the game, if that's what you can call it. The air crackles with an understanding between beast and man.

For all her power, strength and agility, the trainer possesses the ability to subdue her. He is able to control her temperament, contain her wild energy when such measures are required. He may only be faintly aware of the immense influence he has over her, but he can see that her world revolves around him. Instinct drives them both to revere and respect the other.

For each has the other's heart.


-Maia-

She's leaving?

'Tis the season to be merry, they always say.

But right now, it is time for another story. Actually, two stories. Short ones - you can breathe easy now. Possibly sad and depressing. It seems that sad, depressing stories about loved ones leaving or dying seems to be the rage lately. Hmm...

Here's how they went:


=== Story begins===

"Hey, since it's only two of us here, let me share something with you," said my friend.

I lowered my book and nodded my agreement to lend him my ears.

"Last night, I walked Veronica back home. On the way back, she told me about her dreams, her ambitions," he began.

Something's wrong.... I could sense it.

I slowly leaned forward to show my attention. When it comes to Veronica, this particular friend of mine becomes - I don't know, uhm.. - sensitive, protective, melancholy, excited; to me, symptoms of love.

Oh yes, my friend is in love. They met over two years ago. He and Veronica spend hours together. Music, sports, even studying together. Our circle of friends could tell that there was something special going on between those two.

"And, from what she told me, this academy isn't exactly the place for her. I mean, if she wants to pursue her dreams, this academy isn't the right place," he continued.

My dear friend, I think I understand how you feel... I thought to myself.

"She told me that it's highly likely that she's going to leave," said my friend, disappointment evident in his voice.

Then there was silence.

"Do you know the feeling? You know, it's so disappointing somehow, and heartbreaking. You know what I mean? When you've worked so hard for something, and then it just gets taken away from you," he said.

I nodded. "Yes, I do. I do," I replied.

"I talked to my mother about this, about Veronica leaving..." my friend said. "I actually cried over this matter."
Yes dear friend, I understand how you feel... I thought to myself again.

"I.. I.. I just, I just don't know what to do," he said with a tone of resignation.

***

That was over a month ago. Until now, we still don't know if Veronica's tentative decision to leave has been finalized.

=== Story ends ===

Here’s my own story.

=== Story begins ===

“What’s that you’re drawing?” she asked me.

I smiled at her, but I didn’t answer her question. I looked at her as a small frown formed on her forehead as she tried to guess.

“Haha, it’s so cute!” Angelica exclaimed. Her childish smile set my heart aglow.

“That’s me,” I said.

“Hmph!” she said as she made a face at me.

She quickly scribbled something on her book and showed it to me.

“Hah! This is cuter, and this is ME!” she boasted.

I couldn’t help but to just smile to see her being so childish and cheerful. She’s always been that way, but somehow it’s different when she’s with me. When she’s with our other friends, she’s sort of normal, but when she’s with me, I can sort of feel that I’m getting some sort of special treatment.

But that’s not why I’m so attracted to her.

Maybe it’s her looks – everyone agrees that she’s very pretty.
Or maybe because she’s really good at dancing.
Or maybe because of her never-ending lame jokes.
Or maybe because she talks nonstop just like me.
Or maybe because we share the same favourite colour.
Or maybe because we’re both SO in love with chocolate.
Or maybe because she said, “I CANNOT live without meat.” (I love eating and I live to eat, by the way.)

No no no... She treats me as her older brother, and I’d expect her to want me to treat her as a sister in return.

But I think she likes me... If she doesn’t, then why does she spent ALL of her spare time with me instead of other guys?

No no no... I must be imagining it... We've only met for a month, and we barely know each other. And she's from another place far away from where I am. Plus, she's moving to another place even further from here soon.

“Hey, Angelica, let’s take a picture together!” said a friend.

“Okay!” she answered.

“Can you help us capture it?” my friend asked me.

I smiled. “Sure!”
Nothing wrong with letting her take a picture with another guy. She’s not my girlfriend or anything. Right????

“Make sure you get the trees at the back as well,” my friend requested.

“Sure! Now, smile!” I said, as I concentrated on forming the images of the two faces on a piece of paper.

“Done!” I said.

“Let’s take a look!” said Angelica.

“Hey, my face is all blurred,” commented my friend. “And Angie’s face is all... radiant.”

I blushed slightly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I must’ve...” I sputtered.

“You need to work on your magic buddy,” said my friend as he laughed and slapped my back. "Not to worry. We'll take another one later."

“Hey, take one with me!” Angelica asked me, as she tugged at my sleeve.

I declined.

“Oh... Okay then,” she said with a voice slightly tinged with disappointment.

On the following morning, she and I went to a nearby town together for a little window-shopping and sightseeing. She suggested we try to have some fun before she leaves for her home in the afternoon.

"Oooh! Look at this bracelet! It's beautiful!"

"My goodness! That statue is scary..."

"No, I DO NOT want to try that.. that... biscuit..?"

"Oh bother! I spilt my juice..."

I smiled, as always, as I watched her little antics and listened to her talk nonstop.

Soon it was three hours past midday, and she had to leave. I helped her with her suitcase, and I walked her to the harbour where her ship was anchored at.

"So, I guess this is it," I said. My heart began to feel heavy.

"Yes, I believe so. I'm leaving," she said.

"It's been great to have you here," I said, feeling awkward all of a sudden.

"I might come back and visit you again," she said optimistically. "This place is fun, especially with you around."

"You'd better get on board," I said, gently leading her onto the gangway.

Suddenly, a rough hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around.

"You must come now!" said the man.

My eyes bulged, then narrowed as my mind was filled with apprehension. And I sped off with the man.

I didn't even say goodbye. It would have been my last goodbye, but I didn't say it.

Now, I won't see her ever again.

Here I am sitting, thinking about one of our conversations.

"You'll forget me someday. I just know it," I said.

"No no no! Of course I'll remember you! You're the first person to ever give me chocolates! Expensive ones too!" she exclaimed.

"We'll see about that," I answered.

"Why do you treat me so nicely?" she asked.

"What do you mean? I treat you the way I treat everyone else," I replied.

"Well, I just feel that you're very nice and sweet to me," she said.

I merely smiled.

"Don't treat me sooo nicely. Aren't you afraid that I would fall in love with you?"


Dammit, I miss her so much. Tears begin to fall down my cheek.


=== Story ends ===


I can't help it but feel that it's so funny.
My friend's sweetheart is leaving. Mine left already. I've got at least three friends writing stories about heartbreaks.

'Tis the season to be merry. Bah.

Somehow, this new year isn't good enough a reason to feel happy.

-Ramblings of a drunkard. Documented by ArchMage BenGarth.

Just your heart, in exchange for mine

You know when I said I knew little about love? That wasn't true. I know a lot about love. I've seen it, centuries and centuries of it, and it was the only thing that made watching your world bearable. All those wars. Pain, lies, hate... It made me want to turn away and never look down again. But when I see the way that mankind loves... You could search to the furthest reaches of the universe and never find anything more beautiful.

So yes, I know that love is unconditional. But I also know that it can be unpredictable, unexpected, uncontrollable, unbearable and strangely easy to mistake for loathing, and... What I'm trying to say, Tristan, is... I think I love you. Is this love, Tristan? I never imagined I'd know it for myself.

My heart... It feels like my chest can barely contain it. Like it's trying to escape because it doesn't belong to me any more. It belongs to you. And if you wanted it, I'd wish for nothing in exchange - no gifts. No goods. No demonstrations of devotion. Nothing but knowing you loved me too. Just your heart, in exchange for mine.

-Claire Danes, Stardust

The haunted

How do you banish the ghosts of the pasts? How do you live when everything you love is gone? How do you cling on to the faith that life has meaning when absurdity threatens to overwhelm it all?

I cannot answer. The strength seems to be gone from my limbs. I cannot even raise my arm to wipe the tears from my cheek. They fall freely, anointing the altar upon which I kneel.

They say that revenge is sweet. And so it is. But revenge does nothing for the pain within. Revenge makes the pain worse. With vengeance done the anger can no longer overwhelm the pain. With vengeance done the anger is gone, and only the pain remains. Without the distraction afforded by anger, one can only grieve.

It has been six months now. Six months since HE and his horde ravaged my land. Six months since HE burned and pillaged my village, leaving behind only a pillar of smoke so high, so thick, and so black that it resembled a raincloud. Six months since HE destroyed everything and everyone I had ever loved.

I spit at the recollection of his name. Rexar. The mere memory of him leaves a foul taste in my mouth. But I can no longer summon the anger, no matter how hard I try. MY anger, the only thing I had left in the world. But there is blood on my hands, and I know the anger is gone forever. In its place was remorse. And pain. Always pain.

There is blood everywhere. There is blood on the altar, mingling with my tears. There is blood on the floor, on the walls, on the pews, making a mockery of the place once called holy. I look at the blood, my handiwork, and feel only an empty remorse.

For six months, consumed by vengeance, I hunted Rexar. For six months I pursued him like an animal, picking his men off one by one. Finally, after six months, I cornered him here, in this place of worship, with the last vestiges of his followers. And to the cries of "Thou shall not spill blood in the house of Roxis!" by the priests, I had my revenge. I HAD MY REVENGE! I slaughtered them all, and my vengeance was complete.

And then I collapsed on the altar, overwhelmed by what I had done. With anger gone, only grief remains, and the tears flowed freely.

I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry, was my incoherent mumble.

But now my mind is clear. And the grief hangs on me more heavily than ever.

She would have been ten, he five. I can see their faces before me, smiling down with childish innocence. Elizabeth and Damien, my beautiful children. And Marie! Oh, sweet Marie! Never again will I feel her touch or the kiss of her lips. Never again will I know her warm embrace. Never again will I smell the flowers in her hair, or see the laughter in her eyes.

Never again.

Oh, the memories! How beautiful, how precious, and how painful they are! The more beautiful the memory, the more my heart grieves that it is gone forever.

I can no longer stand the pain. Life no longer seems worth living. I can feel the cold hard steel of the knife beneath my hand. It beckons to me. The beating pulse at my throat suddenly seems repulsive.

"Narath."

The memory edges itself into my thoughts. I try to push it away, but the more I try the more I remember.

"Promise me you'll live. Promise me you'll love again."

Oh, Marie, Marie! Forgive me!

"Marie... Shh..."

"Promise me. Promise."

"I promise. Marie? Marie!!"

The memory overwhelms me, and I cannot stop the tears from flowing.

I fling the knife into the ground before me.

Her dying wish was that I live. And so I will live. I will exist. I will survive. I will wander the world without meaning and without purpose, free yet condemned. Because I promised.

I have never felt so alone.



*Note: The events of this story are intended to link the stories of "The haunting" and "The first day" together. More will follow.

One Last Breath

He was known for his bad habit of procrastinating, but even this was taking it too far. He was leaving in less than twenty four hours yet he couldn't bring himself to pack up his belongings. The mere thought of leaving this place, of leaving her, was enough to stop him from doing much of anything. His mind was clouded with uncertainty, doubt, fear and a tinge of unwillingness. In the end, he did manage to gather a few of his possessions - the watch she gave him for his birthday, now worn with seasoned use; and his sketchbook, filled with irreplaceable memories. He simply dumped everything else into the two open suitcases mindlessly.

That night, he drifted in and out of his slumber, his eyelids never remained shut for a full ten minutes. He tossed about on his bed, trying to will some sleep into himself. He stared at the ceiling blankly, he even counted sheep. After all, desperate times did call for desperate measures. He was going to need sufficient rest for his journey.

Unfortunately, sleep never came for him.

He was feeling particularly dazed and sleep deprived as he dragged his luggage into the port. He walked lazily towards the ticket booth, taking his sweet time. Just as soon as he was done loading his baggage, he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was almost as though electricity ran through his body as anticipation began to build up inside of him. He spun around rather clumsily, fully expecting to see her standing behind him, with that half grin he loved so much plastered on her face. Instead, he was greeted by a loud "Surprise!" from his friends. He felt his heart plop down, but he quickly regained composure. He felt guilty for he really was more than glad to see his friends. He was happy that they were here. She'll be here. He thought to himself. She'll be here soon. He was sure of it.

He checked his watch. Again and again. Then he checked the clock on the wall. Not quite believing that it was almost time to leave. Where is she? He tried calling her, but her phone was off. Dead batteries again? He wouldn't be surprised, he knew her all too well.

Suddenly, he heard his name ring in his ear. It was her! She came after all! He was certain of it. He held his breath as he turned around, frantically searching for any signs of her in the mass of people. She was nowhere to be seen. A rush of frustration and disappointment boiled up in him, he wanted to scream his lungs out but decided that he was much too tired already. Could his mind be playing tricks on him? Was he going mad?

He waited, he really did wait for her to come.

He was the last one to board the ship, the most hesitant one to leave.

He didn't understand why she wasn't here, to see him off. She knew he was leaving today, he told her himself. Didn't she want to say goodbye, at the very least?

With one last hopeful glimpse at the crowd, he decided that she wasn't coming after all.

It took everything in him to step aboard the ship.

He felt for sure that his heavy heart would somehow sink the ship itself. He waited for the sirens to go off, but like her, it never happened.

As he sat himself down in his small confined excuse for a room, he began leafing through the old newspapers on the table. He needed a distraction. Anything. Anything to let it hurt less inside.

Mechanically, he wiped away a tear in an effort to hide it from the world. He couldn't bring himself to cry.

-Rachelle-

Love, unrequited

I scanned the crowd hurriedly, eager to catch a glimpse of her. It had been so long. What would she look like now? Had she missed me as badl- Bah, fanciful thinking. Why didn't that vain hope ever diminish? Those years overseas hadn't cured me of my infatuation as I had hoped it would. She never was mine. She was his. Without any warning, a wave of disappointment flooded me over.

As I attempted to swallow the knot in my throat, she appeared. Her face aglow, she skipped towards me with a dazzling smile. Before she could detect any sign of my depression, I had plastered a grin onto my face and stuck out my hand in an awkward attempt to shake hers.

"Marshall! I was expecting something more - like a hug, perhaps?" She remarked uncertainly, grinning as usual while giving me a half-hearted handshake.

Chuckling uncomfortably, I obliged. Boy, she felt so good to the touch - she even smelt so good...

"Um, you don't want to let go, huh? Fine with me. I don't really feel like letting go just yet, either," She was teasing now, the soft edge in her voice barely perceptible. Or was that just my imagination playing up again? I snapped out of my reverie and broke off all contact by taking an abrupt step backward.

"Sorry. It feels good to be home. Glad to see you."

"You look as good as ever. Come, let's go meet the others."

We made small talk along the way. I tried to keep my tone upbeat and light to match hers - it wouldn't do for her to sense something was wrong, anyway.

Inside, I felt morose. I kept pace with her quickening step as she neared our circle of friends. And him. Trying not to watch - and failing ultimately - her slip her hand into his, I acknowledged the fanfare of "welcome back!"s and drowned myself in all the attention showered upon me. It was a welcome distraction. I avoided looking in her direction. Their direction.

They say the worst way to miss a person is to be close to them, yet know that you can't have them. The painful blow of this realization left a throbbing ache in my heart - an ache that only intensified now that I was back home. The worst part wasn't the resentment I felt against him, it was the fact that he was a decent guy, and that both of them looked so happy together. They almost glowed in each other's presence. Ignoring the cliche statement that the noblest way to love a person would be to let them go, I couldn't help but wish I was in his place, holding her hand. So I got to hold her for a few seconds, while what I really wanted was to hold her forever. How ironic. Maybe it would have been less painful if she hadn't hugged me.

"So, I'll see you guys later. Good to have you back, Marshall."

She blew me a flying kiss, fluttering her fingers goodbye as they turned to walk off.

I surreptitiously caught that kiss, hid it in my greying heart and watched her retreating figure.

-Maia-