Crazy Love

Oneshot!

purifyinglight — Sat, 18 Aug 2012 21:12:00 -0700

Author: Serafina
Story: Where Forever Begins (previously named Playground)
Genre: Friendship, Love
Status: Revised

Author’s note: So. I must be crazy. But this is my third draft of this story. I made it longer, added more descriptions, and i definitely worked on refining my 3rd person narrative techniques. I think it’s better than my last version but i don’t think i’m done revising. it’s nice to come back to this particular story and work at those knots. D:btw. this is also on my fictionpress account (serafina claremond). thaaanks!

The one where it all started.

“Okay, so tell me again: who is this guy?” Simone asked as her best friend Rachel dug her fingernails into her arm. Despite the six inch height difference, Rachel was still able to drag Simone toward the park near her cousin’s house at an alarming, determined pace. She was usually a bit more gentle but since the current object of her affections was out and about, Rachel was in her “get the hell out of my way” mode. Simone could tell she would do anything to spend time with this mysterious guy, including keeping parts of her plan a secret. Even if Rachel was her best friend, Simone knew Rachel had to feel superior in every single way - especially with relationships.

“Oh, his name is Thompson De Luca,” Rachel said, trying to sound nonchalant. She flipped her hair and continued, “I met him earlier this summer at that camp I went to, remember? Well, we became pretty good friends during those two hellish weeks.” Rachel’s eyes scanned the faces at the park in hopes that Thompson’s was amongst them.

Simone raised an eyebrow and said, “Just friends, eh?” Ever since the two had met, Simone knew that Rachel had never seen her as a threat when it came to guys - probably because she never really cared about boys or relationships. But even if she didn’t care, she could still see right through Rachel’s carefully thought out anecdote.   Rachel took a deep breath, focused her hazel eyes on Simone’s, and started slowly with, “Okay, maybe I might like him a bit more than I let on-” Simone shot her a look “-He’s really gorgeous, Simmy. And I think there may be something between the two of us.” Rachel watched Simone roll her eyes at her infamous nickname but she didn’t seem too surprised over what was going on.  

“So why am I going with you to meet the guy of your dreams? Wouldn’t it be better if the two of you were alone?” Simone asked. She knew that there had to be more to this plan if Rachel brought her along.

“This way you can meet him and tell me if you approve.” Rachel had gone through so many different scenarios but this was her best one. She already knew that she was prettier, smarter, and the better option - having Simmy with them would simply prove it. Thompson would automatically pick Rachel by comparison. If in some incredible way the plan didn’t work, there was always part two. She checked “Plus, he’s bringing along a friend. Maybe you’ll be able to catch his eye.”  

Simone looked up thoughtfully, contemplating what Rachel had said. She knew Rachel would do anything to get this Thompson guy to like her. She also knew that Rachel was deceptive enough to use her as a tool in her plans. But what Simone couldn’t figure out was what role she was supposed to be playing. At least, not until Simone processed the way Rachel had said, “maybe you’ll be able to his eye.” She said it with such subtle force; so subtle that if Simone hadn’t taken time to relay it in her head, she would have missed it. Most of it had clicked into place. Rachel wanted to use Simone as a distraction. The only problem was, Simone thought, if Rachel already felt as though she were superior, why would she need a back-up plan?

Simone opened her mouth to ask Rachel what the purpose of the back-up plan was, but Rachel interrupted her first. “So when he gets here, be cool, okay? Don’t talk about books or school or any nerd stuff.”

Rachel thought if Simone started talking about books or school, Thompson would get sucked in on the topics too quickly for Rachel to pull him back out. At summer camp, if anything remotely academic came up, he was off on a tangent and Rachel could no longer impress him. The last thing she needed was for Simone to steal her thunder. She looked around the playground, seeing little kids kick around in the sand and teenage boys playing ball on the concrete courts. She turned to scan the crowd a few more times, her eyes catching his.

As the grin grew on Rachel’s face, Simone caught on to the plan. Her mysterious Thompson was a total academic - a little out of Rachel’s comfort guy zone. Instead of confronting her, Simone turned her head to see what her best friend was looking at and saw a tall guy walking towards him. Simone could definitely see the instant attraction. With Rachel stunned into speechlessness, she noted that this Thompson fellow knew how attractive he was and labeled him cocky. Rachel certainly wasn’t helping his ego by standing their agape.

Thompson De Luca walked with confidence. That was how he always walked. He knew girls couldn’t keep their eyes off him what with his shaggy brown hair, dazzling green eyes, and million dollar boyish smile. Today, after careful consideration, he picked his favorite grey v-neck that set off his eyes just right since he knew Rachel didn’t stand a chance against his charm and his “routine.” His best friend, Q, told him once he did the same thing every time he had a date with a girl; he would puff out his chest to look slightly built, run his fingers through his hair for that perfect bed head, and smirk just enough to hint at a blazing confidence. He started his routine the moment he saw the back of Rachel’s blonde head next to a leggy brunette.   

Simone smiled a little as he arched an eyebrow and said, “Hey, Rach! Long time no see!” Simone expected “Rach” to correct him for using her most hated nickname, but she didn’t. Rachel smiled goofily as he pulled her into a big hug. Simone noticed how at comfortable Rachel was in his arms. Once he let go, he looked at Simone with his cool confidence. He held out his hand and surprisingly stuttered, “H-hello.”   

Rachel watched as Simmy smiled and shook his hand. “You’re Thompson, right? Rachel hasn’t stopped talking about you.” She grimaced unnoticeably at Simmy’s words while Thompson gave her a quick nod. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’m Simone Clarke.”   Thompson let a lazy grin splash across his face spoke. “So do I get to call you ‘Simmy’ too-” He watched as she winced, “That’s what Rach called you during camp. I figured it was a common nickname.”

“No, please don’t call me that,” Simone pleaded. She was about to continue with an explanation before Rachel chimed in, “I’m actually the only one who’s allowed to call her that. Sorry, Thompson.” Simone watched as Rachel smiled and giggled flirtatiously. Well, you aren’t either, Simone thought to herself.    

“And her middle name is Eudora. Pretty lame, right ?” Rachel continued. “Her parents must have really wanted her to have a bad childhood.” She laughed by herself but when she noticed Thompson hadn’t joined her, she quickly stopped.   

“Thanks, Rach,” Simone said sarcastically. Was this really her best friend? “But I’m proud to be sporting such an old-fashioned name. And it was my great-grandmother’s name. My parents had promised to name their firstborn after her - even if it is just my middle name.”   

“That’s really cool,” Thompson commented with the utmost sincerity. “So I guess, I have to stick with calling you Si-” He mentally swore as his ringtone came blaring out of his pocket to cut him off. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. “Hello? Oh hey, yeah, we’re near the huge slide. Alright, see ya then.”

Rachel was completely mesmerized as he shrugged and said, “Sorry about that. My friend lives near here but he doesn’t get out much.” Gosh, he is so cute, she thought. She bit her lip in attempt to guide his eyes away from Simmy back to her.

But instead, Simone said inquisitively, “Oh, what’s his name? My cousin lives near here too, maybe I know him.” Rachel shot her an irritated look but Simone brushed it off since it wasn’t her fault the only thing Rachel could contribute to the conversation was biting her lip.   

“His name is-” Thompson was about to answer right when Simone saw someone familiar and said, “Quentin, is that you?”   

“Hey cuz, what are you doing here? With Thompson?” Quentin questioned. He wasn’t as confident as Thompson but there was something about him that attracted dozens of girls. He chalked it up to his shy, nice guy demeanor but honestly, none of those girls mattered to him. He had eyes for only one girl since his childhood. And she was currently looking at his best friend.  

  “Did you just say cousin, Q?” Thompson asked, surprised. He liked to think he couldn’t be startled easily, but this piece of information was pretty shocking.    “Heck yeah. This is my favorite cousin, Simone.” Quentin turned to Simone. “How do you know my best buddy?” Simone couldn’t hide that her jaw dropped straight down. Quentin’s best friend was Thompson, the guy he’d been trying to set her up with. The guy he mentioned would be perfect for her. The guy Rachel was currently fawning over.

Before she could even try to speak, Thompson said, “This is the cousin you talk so much about? The one you said-” He stopped as his voice cracked over the words. All of his confidence went out the window and he raised his eyebrow at Quentin.   

“Yeah, that one. You guys are so weird,” Quentin mused, jerking his head back to remove his blond hair out of his eyes. “Hey, Rachel. So I’m guessing you’re De Luca’s camp buddy?”  

“That’s me,” Rachel said uneasily, unsure of what to think about all this. She had an entire afternoon planned and all that was gone now thanks to Simmy’s stupid cousin acting as a link between the two. She flipped her hair carelessly, not noticing Quentin’s wonderstruck expression.

Simone, however, did notice her cousin drooling over her best friend and asked, “So this is really De Luca? The De Luca?”

Quentin nodded, still staring at his Rachel with awe. For a split second, Quentin finally remembered where he was and finally tore his eyes away to Simone. He looked around and said, “I guess it’s a small world after all.”  

“That it is, Q,” Thompson agreed. Simone smiled as he reached around to punch Quentin jokingly in the arm. Then when Thompson gave a wide, genuine grin, Simone was the only one who noticed that Rachel’s eyes had gone from slight confusion to stormy. Rather than giving in to Rachel’s drama, she decided to provide a challenge for the two boys.  

“Who’s up for a race because I’m going to reach the swing set before the two of you. Whoever gets there last is buying all of us lunch. Okay?” Simone said before sprinting off.  

“Looks like I gotta go beat my cousin. Peace,” Quentin said, just before running off to the swing set.   

“Hey, wait up. Rach, I know you don’t like running so I’ll be back, okay? I’ll make sure that Q buys us all lunch and dinner.” He ruffled her hair, ran, and easily outpaced Quentin. Unfortunately for him, Simone was already sitting on one of the swings, gleefully sticking her tongue out at the two best friends. Once she was sure they were done, Rachel slowly walked towards the three and stood silently beside a huffing Quentin.

“Looks like Q is buying us lunch!” Simone teased. Quentin reached over and pushed her off, laughing. She jumped back up and pushed him into De Luca. Thompson grabbed Simone, picked her up by the waist with ease, and swung her around before dropping her gently on the grass. He absentmindedly reached behind him for Rachel and loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Rachel would’ve been happy if not for the friendly vibe he was giving her as he looked down at her and smiled. She would’ve been okay with that if not for the looks he kept sneaking at Simmy, her supposed best friend. Rachel knew Simmy didn’t do anything intentional to attract Thompson, but she also knew that there was a chance Simmy would catch on to Thompson’s obvious feelings. So Rachel swore to herself as she watched the three of them running around together that if Simmy were to ever reciprocate those feelings, she would never speak to her again.

100 Prompts

purifyinglight — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 23:28:58 -0800

Story: The Life of a Lonely Girl
Author: Serafina Claremond

Prompt: A Narrative Essay for English class
Author’s Note: it’s on my personal, but this is the revised edition. If you can recognize the origin of the quotes, you’ll get something special.(;
The Life of a Lonely Girl

May 2010
“Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not.”
    There are moments where you feel like you control your life and the universe will never stop you. There are days where you feel like everything is going as it should. But then there are the days no one ever talks about: the ones where you realize you can’t control life - it controls you. That day, for me, is today.
    I sit on my bed, the house completely still. My arms are shaking as they grasp the object by my side. A breath escapes as I open the scissors and press it against my skin. For a brief moment, I am relieved. I am without pain. I am alone.
—
December 2011 (Present Day)
“Some friendships are so strong.”
I stand there, looking down the side of the mountain. My friends and others slowly make their way to the bottom. I had started to as well but after that first stumble over a pinecone, I made my way back up and planted myself on a log. I sat there in an awkward silence with myself, struggling to do the tasks we were given.
    I sat up straight, gathering my strength to whisper from memory, “Deuteronomy 31:6. ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.’” The words rolled off of my tongue without pause. But I was still hesitant to continue. I buried my hands in my pockets and looked down, my eyes scanning over the brown terrain and my ears picking up on every little sound in the forest. It smelled like pine trees and the air blew gently through my hair. I smiled to myself, knowing that this type of beauty was rare and untouched and natural. For a second, I almost felt happy.
—
January 2010
“Destiny is our friend.”
    Happiness. It’s the feeling you get when you can’t stop smiling or you feel completely content with your life. That’s what I was. I was happy I was okay. I was healthy with a functioning body, intelligent with good grades in school, and free with amazing friends.
    I sat there at the lunch table in my little corner seat on the bench, watching my crowd of friends yell and argue and eat. I laughed at what they said and they smiled when I spoke. Everything was okay in my life and in theirs - nothing could bring us down. No agony, no drama, no worries; it was just one of those times where you could say “Hakuna Matata” and mean it. It was like destiny was on our side and everything was going to be perfect.
—
Present Day.
    “What happened to me?” I asked. “When did I become unhappy? When did I become this girl? I don’t even recognize myself!” The anger boiled and the questions sat on the tip of my tongue. My whispered-shouts startled the cluster of birds and they flew away from my log.
    I covered my face with my hands, the tears getting ready for their journey. I pictured myself, face gaunt, eyes dead. The only memory that refused to leave me on my own - the one that dared not give me peace.
—
February 2011
“In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength.”
    I forced myself to look. My eyes fought me, trying to look away, and my mind felt weak, not wanting to make this a memory. But if I wanted to fix myself, I had to stare myself down. This girl looking at me was someone I never wanted to become.
    Her eyes looked alive with death. Her face seemed so hollow, so thin, and her skin was pale, almost ghostly. Her hands shook as she tried to move that one piece of hair that was always falling into her line of vision, trying to mimic the actions of someone she used to be.
    I could not recognize the person across from me as myself; I was done with her. I was going to change, I was going to get better. I was going to leave her far behind - but a small part of me knew she would always be lurking behind the mask of hope I was about to put on. I just had to be strong enough to keep her away.
—
Present Day.
    But that was behind me, wasn’t it? I was supposed to be over her. I told all my friends that my pain and my weaknesses were gone. That’s what I had told them because that’s what I believed. Then I thought maybe I was back to where I had started: alone. It had taken me forever to tell my friends about where I was headed in life because I always assumed I was on my own. Now though, I knew differently, and yet, I was refusing to acknowledge - to myself and them - that my past was again catching up to me.
    The speaker had said, “This is not a solo journey.” And I wanted to so strongly believe him and believe that I was not alone. So why did I still feel the way I used to?
—
July 2010
“Always thinking you need to do things on your own without anyone’s support.”
    I was walking home from practice alone, like I always did. I would usually listen to music to drown out my own thoughts but I had forgotten my iPod in the midst of organizing my friend’s “surprise” birthday party. So for the first time in a long time, I was alone in a quiet atmosphere while the rest of Cerritos was just beginning their day.
    I began to walk across the overpass that had played a tremendous role in many of my elementary school outings; I thought about the times where I would cautiously remind myself that I was not going to fall over. But something was different this time: I was alone and I found myself wanting to fall over. I knew I was at my breaking point; I knew no one could help me at this point. It was too late and I was too far in to be pulled out and rescued.
—
Present Day.
    My friends proved that I was wrong that day because I had been saved. I was suffocating myself for so long, I hadn’t realized people were there for me.
    “I was always so afraid that I would isolate myself to the point of no return. But You showed me I had friends who loved me,” I whispered to the skies and the forests and the wind.
—
November 2010
“While it is always best to believe in one’s self, a little help from others can be a great blessing.”
    I smiled through my tears when he responded with, “You just have to believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”
    “You may think you’re worthless, but I love you.”
    “You’re my best friend.”
—
September 2011
“There is nothing wrong with letting people who love you, help you.”
    “I’m used to doing things on my own. You know I hate worrying people because of my family. I always felt like a burden to them,” I said softly, not wanting to break down completely.
    “We love you,” one of them said, “and we will always worry about you. You always seem strong and I envy that but sometimes you need to be weak and let us help you. Okay?”
    I nodded and I let go of every perceived notion that crying made you weak. I let myself become vulnerable in front of the people I cared most about. I let and I didn’t resist.
—
Present Day
    “Deuteronomy 31:6. ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.’ I am filled with your courage and I am not alone.” I stood up to watch my friends become one with nature among the trees.
    That’s when I knew.
    I’m never alone.

One-shot!

purifyinglight — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 18:31:00 -0800

Story: Untitled
Summary: Somewhere on a deserted island is a boy watching a black ocean created by his best friend.
Author: Serafina

Author’s note: This is a birthday present to my friend(:
It has no plot line and you’re going to have to be okay with that. In all honesty, I don’t know what’s going on with these people.

    “No. No no no no no. You cannot do this to me,” I shouted. “I don’t care if you’re this super powerful being. You do not get to do this to me.” I looked up at the sky and I hated it. The stars were too bright, the sky was too blue, and the island was too empty. My own friend shut me away on an island just because she was angry with me.
    I slumped over and slammed my fists into the white sand. I wanted to scream and throw a fit and destroy everything I could, but I knew I didn’t stand a chance. I was alone and isolated; my powers had been stripped from me and I was forced to survive, for the first time, on my own human skills. I let out a shaky breath, releasing all the anger and energy that was within me.
    It’s better to let it all go than to let it all fester, she had said. The first thing Maria Watson had ever taught me was to release one’s negative energy to prevent blocked chakras. (Actually the very first thing she taught me was how to make pot stickers, but that wasn’t nearly as important.)
    I didn’t know how this would work: the whole isolation process. Watson had created this island as a form of punishment; I didn’t know what she would provide. I could hear crickets chirping and leaves rustling; at one point, I could hear a monkey screech from the tops of the trees and I knew Watson had really outdone herself this time. Her powers were unbelievable, almost unspeakable, and you couldn’t watch her perform them without being awestruck. I sat there, listening to the sounds of creatures Watson had provided; sometime between the sight of a black ocean and that of a sunrise, I fell into a peaceful slumber.
—
When I awoke, I realized I had had the most relaxing night of my life since I was a mere child. Yawning, I stood up and took note of Watson’s island: the air was brisk, the sky was clear, and the ocean glimmered beneath the sunlight. As I walked towards the dense forest, I stepped on sharp seashell and cursed so wildly a sailor would blush. I looked up at the sky to glare at Watson for not allowing me to grab a pair of flip flops before limping into the wild.
—
After what felt like an hour, I limped back out with a couple bananas tucked under my arm. The forest was so elaborate; there were vines hanging from each tree and spiderwebs glistening in the air. This was some of Watson’s best work yet; of course, it’d be how she’d punish me.
    “Is that what you think? That this is a punishment?” A voice floated from behind me and I turned shocked to see Watson herself in front of me.
    “Well, yeah. You were angry at me,” I responded. “Was this not a punishment?”
    She walked over to me and brushed her thumb over a cut I had gotten from walking into a tree earlier. I could feel the cut tingle as she willed it to disappear with her touch. She looked down shyly, whispering, “It wasn’t meant to be a punishment. I was trying to help you.”
    “Oh,” I said softly. I placed my hand under her chin, gently pushing upward so I could look into her eyes. “But you were shouting and yelling and you just seemed so angry before you sent me here.”
    “I was trying to create a place for you that would make you calmer and less stressed out. You have been going through a lot lately; I was only trying to help,” she said, pausing for a minute. Her brown eyes flickered up to mine. “I was irritated because you kept interrupting my thought process. You know how I get.”
    “I do, I do,” I sighed, relieved that she wasn’t angry at me. “Thank you for this. I do feel more relaxed.” She smiled, proud of herself. “I think this is your finest work; it’s amazing, Watson.”
    For a minute, everything went still. All I could remember was the intensity of her eyes and how close she was near me. I leaned in, my eyes blinking shut, as I tumbled forward and landed on my bed with a light thud. I opened my eyes, scanning over the posters plastered onto my wall, and realized I was home.
    “Shit.” I stretched my arms over my head, knowing that somewhere out there, Watson was smirking.

99 Drabbles

blogkefilliaa — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 00:37:00 -0800

number seven.

Title: In Limbo [pt. 1]
Author: Kefillia
Date: January 6, 2012

They have haunted her. They still afflict her. They will continue to torment her. And all she wants, all she needs, is an escape.

I can’t remember what happened. All I know is that I was sleeping and I awoke to find myself in a pitch black space. It’s as if I were suspended in the air or something. I reached down, expecting the warm comfort of my bed, but my arm just swiped through space. I lean forward and shift side to side, but I feel no different. My body just hung there in the blackness.

Closing my eyes, I attempt to return to the peace of sleep. I float for a while when suddenly, images, memories flash before my eyes, the problems, the recollections, the people I longed to escape from.

They haunted me. They still haunt me.

They follow me, peer over my shoulder, creep up behind me, pop up in front of my face. They remind me of what I wanted to forget.

But they don’t allow it. They will not allow it.

As much as I wish, as much as I want, as much as I pray, they are persistent.

They look for my weak spots, my vulnerabilities, my insecurities, and they make them known.

They point. They laugh. They mock me. They are the ones who kick me when I’m at my lowest point.

I fight, but it’s never good enough.

They always win.

They disguised themselves. They wore faces of the people I knew, the people I thought I knew, the people I trusted.

And with those faces, they threw rocks at me. They threw spears, shot arrows, swung swords.

All at once. Attacking me from all sides. Leaving no escape route.

They never brought me to death, only to the point where I faced Death and started him straight in the eye.

Then they bring me back to repeat the tortuous cycle.

They taunt me, whisper in my ear, threatening me.

When my eyes grow wide, it’s them.

When I am as stiff as a board, it’s them.

When the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight, it’s them.

When I am silent to the world, it’s them.

They cover my screams, so only I can hear them.

They delight in my shrieks.

But the world is oblivious. They do not know. They do not understand.

These creatures have never attacked them. These hideous things do not make them suffer.

They are the reason why I look over my shoulder. They are the reason why I always lock my doors. They are the reason why I surround myself in light.

But the attempts are futile.

They still haunt me, the demons.

100 Prompts

purifyinglight — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 20:43:00 -0800

Author: Serafina
Prompt: English Assignment
Date: October 20, 2011

Story: Three Little Words
Tagline: One haunted memory was all she had left of the three little words he had whispered to her.

Author’s Note: I wrote this for an English assignment way back when. I don’t remember if I ever posted it on my personal, but I thought it’d be nice to put it up here. Yeah. Okay.

What haunts her most is her reluctance to let go.
    Her past is now faded, muddled and gray. But there those rare moments that stand out in her mind; the ones she’s grown attached to, unwilling, like a child, to let go. The scenes and the colors and the words, still so vivid, stay behind as the rest of her life goes on. The rest - the worn out memories - come sparingly. She can’t remember where she puts her keys or when she last washed her laundry but how he smelled and the sound of his voice were ever present.
    It haunts her everyday, the memories of him, of them. But what’s worse is how she can’t let go, how she forces herself to hold on, how she has to be distracted so she doesn’t fall into her vat of memories. What’s worse is how she’ll always remember how she felt with him, how infectious his smile was, and, really, how three little words from him wrote her freshman year.
…
    Sixth period. English Honors. She’s tapping her foot - a nervous habit she detests. The clock is mocking her; its hands ticking away. Thud. A sudden pain in her toes causes her to spastically jump in her seat. She glances up to check if anyone has seen her and realizes that in her time of daydreaming the teacher has been speaking. Trying to gather her attention, she lazily scans the room, noting the glazed eyes and blank stares of her classmates. She vaguely hears the words “vacation” and “candy,” not even stirring at the prospect of chocolate. As she is handed one chocolate Hershey’s Kiss, the school bell rings - a sound amplified in her eyes by all of the excitement - signifying the start of a much needed break from school.
    She walks out. Her escape is here.
    The straps of her backpack dig in to her shoulders as her feet, feeling sore, drag her across campus, through throngs of excited students, and away from the buzzing of chatter. She arrives at the sidewalk, her cheeks tainted pink and her brows creased. The sky is colorless, bleak and gray. To some, the dull sky and the dark clouds might prove to be a downer but this was the kind of day her spirit soared. On days when the sun was barely peeking through the crowded clouds, she felt as though anything could happen. And that’s when she sees it: the color blue.
    The blue is so bright it was a color only found glowing against the midnight sky amongst the city nightlife. Yet, here it is in front of her, taunting her. It muffles the sound of the cars honking and the kids yelling and the 2:50 P.M. bell ringing. It reduces everything around her to a gentle blur where the only thing in focus is the blue jacket. The jacket is standing at the crosswalk, getting ready to go when it turns with a wistful look and sees her too. Her eyes darken with determination as she tries to conceal the pounding in her chest as she believes that her heart has been hooked up to an amplifier, magnifying the sound. The jacket - he smiles - chooses to stay and wait. A smile explodes across her own face like a firecracker. Though the weather was perfect, her mouth had refused her to show any kind of cheerful emotion all day. It had been locked up tight until she saw him. His eyes, a dark brown, crinkle and emanate happiness. Her heart rams into her chest as she realizes that he is happy to see her too. So her heart relaxes and her throat no longer feels constricted and she takes her first deep breath to say what she had been wanting to say all week: “Hi.”
    They walk together, closer than just two friends spending time together. His hands graze her own and flames burn beneath her skin. She accidentally lets out a schoolgirl giggle causing a tint of red to make itself known across her face. Suddenly his friend appears out of no where, teasing him with just his arm. The pair stop and she marches on. She does not want to appear clingy at such an early stage in their friendship nor exasperated that he would rather speak to his friend than her. She disallows herself to sneak a look back to see if he had forgotten about her and, against her will, keeps walking.       She reaches into her pocket and fumbles as her iPod is unwilling to leave the comforts of its temporary home. The earbud is caught on the inside and she juggles her jacket as she attempts to extract it. A lump on the ground goes unnoticed as the victor of the battle is acknowledged as she. Naturally, she trips. She catches herself before her victory becomes bittersweet but silently hopes that he - her bright blue jacket - did not see a thing. Carefully, she selects her music choice but is prevented from distracting herself even further. A hand touches her shoulder gently and she turns, slightly surprised, to see him again. For a split second, they’re unmoving, simply living in the moment. He looks at her shyly, dragging his eyes across her face. Completely mesmerized, she watches as his mouth opens and she makes herself listen to him. He says three words and she can’t help but smile openly. He nudges her with his elbow and picks up their conversation exactly where his friend had suspended it. Slowly, quite reluctantly, they continue their walk home.
—
    This is what still haunted her: the memory of a day when she had finally escaped her prison of a mind that was filled with crazy fantasies she created at school and entered into a dream that was actually reality. Chills crawl up her back like dozens of tiny bugs when she remembers his cool brown eyes she hasn’t looked into for years, his bright neon blue jacket she is forced to see on a daily basis, and his voice, so smooth, so haunting, she feels creeping from behind her. He is here and there. His presence is ubiquitous, unavoidable. And when she still sees him, when their eyes meet across the way, his voice echoes in her ears. The very words that practically defined her entire freshman year still strike a chord within her. “I’m still here,” he had said. I’m still here. I’m still here. But he isn’t. So she is stuck.

100 Prompts

purifyinglight — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 17:01:13 -0800

Author: Serafina
Prompt: Take song lyrics and make it a plot line.

Story: She’s So Gone
Tagline: So, it looks like the joke’s on you
‘Cuz the girl that you thought you knew

Author’s Note: Yeah, it’s been awhile… I’ve been writing letters. Haha. And I’m still developing new stories. Yeah. (:
“Look at me. What do you see now? After all this time spent apart, am I still that girl?” I asked, my voice slightly shaking but my eyes never leaving his.
    “I-I don’t know,” he stuttered. I watched him look down at his feet, no longer being able to look at me.
    “Yes, you do. Am I the same girl who you used to talk to everyday?” He shook his head. “Six months ago, I would bend over backwards for you; that girl is gone. So gone. But you know that already.” I took a shaky breath and paused for a moment to collect myself.
    He looked up, into my eyes, and said, “I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this?”
    “Because you knew,” I whispered. “You knew.” I shook my head violently as he stood there, eyes wide as though he were confused. I felt my voice break out of my throat as words came pouring out, saying, “You always knew. I was never myself when I was with you. I was someone else, someone who did everything you asked. That girl was never someone I planned to be; in fact, I promised myself and my parents and God that I would never be that girl. But I was. I was that girl, only for you. Deep down, you must have figured that out. You must have known that I was always someone different with you. I was irrational and I never thought things through; I wasn’t being the neurotic person who overanalyzed everything anymore. I was someone different.
    I’m changing that. That girl is never coming back. I don’t like her; I hate her. I hate being her. I’m done. So done.” I closed my eyes and took heavy breaths, releasing all the pent-up emotion I had bottled up over the last few years.
    I took a step back and headed towards the door, stopping only to say, “I hope you don’t miss her. Because the girl you thought you knew, she’s gone for good.”

Gotcha Pt. III

purifyinglight — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:45:00 -0800

Author: Serafina
Date: November 10, 2011

Title: Gotcha
Tagline: The dead are still living.

Author’s note: This is for NaNoWriMo, Young Writers Program style. My goal is 10000 for the month, and if I feel like I’m on a roll, I’ll up it to 20000, yeah? Haha. Here ya go! Gotcha, the last and final installment to my short series that may or may not grow….

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

“Boss, I’m so sorry about what happened,” one said.
    “You must be devastated,” said another.
    His face was ghastly, pale and stricken with grief. He simply looked at his employees with glazed eyes, nodding with his lips tight. As the funeral continued, he sat in the first seat of the front row, his eyes trained on the glossy brown coffin that was closed shut and housing the dead body. As was his nature, he showed no signs of sadness through actions; he was still, inattentive, as the minister spoke. He heard every other word as her colleagues told stories about her and their adventures; he only managed to focus when the one person who he didn’t know, arose to the podium - her mother.
    She started off by saying, “Anya was a wonderful person. She was my rock. She was there for me; never wavering when I needed her.” Her words quivered as they rushed out from her mouth, only to be met with a cold, stony silence upon their escape.     “I will miss her for the rest of my life and then some,” she continued, pausing for effect precisely when needed. His eyes flickered up from the coffin and met hers as she said, “Anya was destined for greatness.” He knew she was. She was meant for a lot of amazing things; things, because of him, she would never get to achieve. He knew it. Her mother knew it. And he was sure, that somewhere out there, he knew it too. Her mother’s voice began to quake as she glided over old memories of Anya and in his mind, images of her brown eyes and her pink lips flashed in and out. He thought of the way she would furrow her brows in frustration or how her lithe body seemed to fly whenever she moved. He remembered the way she acted out defiantly when they had first met, impressing him for the first of many times. He was proud of her and all that she had accomplished. Regretfully though, he began to recall the moments of empty silence when he - her mentor - should have praised her and told her that he was proud, he simply was unaware of how to tell her. But really, he knew that on more than one occasion he should have told her just how much she meant to him as more than his top assassin; he should have told her that he loved her. He may not have been an affectionate man; in fact, he may have not been one to feel. But she changed that; she made him feel, she made him want, and she made him fall for her. Yes, he had truly loved her.
    Now, she was gone, like the snowflakes that would soon melt away after they trickled down from the sky. He stood up, stoically, a few seconds after the service had ended, watching as everyone left her and her grave. Lifelessly, he walked up to her to say goodbye for the last time. His hand reached out on its own, lightly brushing the smooth wood.
    “I love you, Anya,” he said, “always have, always will. I do.” And at last, he lifted the lid of her coffin, wanting to see her face one last time, to finally see her at peace. Starting slowly, he noticed that something was missing. There was no body. No Anya. Nothing. Just an empty coffin with a lonely pillow sat before him. He noticed a note, tucked beneath the pillow and when he read it, his hands began to shook. For the first time, his eyes flashed with emotion - with fear - as his eyes repeatedly scanned the words “I’m still alive.”

25 Dabbles

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 21:13:00 -0700

Title: 25 Dabbles
Chapter: Part Two
Tagline: In which we begin to see the friendships grow.
Author: Serafina
Date: September 1, 2011

Author’s Note: Yes. I realize it’s late. Yes. I’m sorry. Yes. Just read it.
Words: Weapon, Cry, Fantasy, Tower Block, Superstition, Black Board

As their lives went on, their friendships grew.

—-

Percy.

Emotions are the strongest weapon a person could use.

Everyone always told her how smart he was or how he could easily read people. His obvious talent of perception was something to be both admired and skeptical about. But of course when he was tested, he always passed. She figured, if this is was something people always admired without truly getting to know him, there had to be something more to him than just the obvious. A greater weapon or advantage he had over people than his eyes.

So she tried it out. He was new to her world and could offer a fresher perspective on her problems. As she spoke and complained and pleaded for his help, he listened intently and responded with an eloquent type of bluntness. She finally understood. His greatest talent wasn’t his proclivity for perception nor did his strength lie only in his intelligence, but his strongest, most superb ability was empathizing.

Yes, that was exactly it. He was best at feeling what others felt; it was how he managed to find a way to always help those who sought his advice and wisdom. She was a tiny bit glad that she too could finally experience it.

—-

Win.

To earn trust was as tough as climbing a tower block.

Her instinct to protect Win instantly over powered her initial apprehension to befriend him the moment she found her window of opportunity.

It only took a moment for her to be sure of his feelings for another girl. When she confronted him, he admitted it right away.

This troubled her. How could he trust someone he barely knew so quickly? She was taught that trust was difficult to obtain (yet, easy to lose) and should never be taken lightly. Yet here she was, being handed his trust on a silver platter. She didn’t know how to extend the same gesture; that of which was supposed to have nearly the same amount of levels as a sky high tower block. How could she give Win all of her trust when she could barely trust herself with his?

So instead, she tried a different technique. She did her best to help him with his little situation to ensure that he would not give up on their mini-friendship as fast as he began it.

—

Aurora.

Blackboards’ disappearances were the sign of change of old school days.

Their memories dated back to first grade. The things they did, the things they shared, the things they spoke about had become fuzzy since that time. Their laughs and smiles and thoughts and words were fading as time went on. Distant, faded chalk lines on the old, graying blackboards they used to have school were what their memories had come to. But just like those chalk lines, it didn’t mean they never happened. They still existed. Her times with Aurora were present when the two were together, bonding over the past they had once lived with each other.

She noticed that whenever Aurora was around there were no dark times. No awkward silences and no moments where a smile wasn’t practically plastered on their faces. No jokes were forced and nothing felt strained. This was why she felt drawn to Aurora; her illuminating personality wasn’t something to ignore. She’d make it a point to try to be as bright alone as when she was with Aurora.

—-

Wish.

Hear my words, feel my pain. see me cry these tears.

Other than the obvious, there wasn’t a thing they couldn’t do in front of each other. They could be polite, hysterical, annoying. They could laugh and dance and cry. Sadly, it wouldn’t be for another year until she realized she had been taking all of this for granted. For now though, she was enjoying the time they had together.

She was falling apart day by day. Wish would always be around because she had been for years. However, she couldn’t bring her into this; all the breakdowns, psychotic tendencies and dark thoughts were meant to be kept away from everyone, including her.

Then came the day when she couldn’t handle it on her own anymore. When the thought about jumping off the bridge to be crushed by the speeding cars entered her mine, she knew she couldn’t hide any of it for much longer. She had to tell someone, but really, she had to tell Wish. The moment she did, the tears started flowing and nothing she did held them back. It was okay though; she trusted Wish with her life and knew that she’d be the one to save her from this state. One day, she’d return the favor.

—-

Effie.

Superstition ain’t the way.

Nothing could fend her off. No superstitions, no myths, no hindrances were going to stand in Effie’s way. She was absolutely adamant about being friends with her. Effie was bubbly, sociable, and a little pushy so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she wouldn’t give up.

The two circulated in the same group of people but never had fully befriended each other yet. And by the looks of it, that was something Effie was going to change. Whenever she wanted to be alone and away from the world, it seemed as though Effie could sense it and do whatever she could to change that.

It was becoming exceedingly difficult, but she, in no way, could pretend that she didn’t enjoy her company. She couldn’t understand how this girl would benefit from having any type of friendship with her. Effie was made of the most innocent and light things; she was made of the darkest. There was nothing to gain except a new friend.

Perhaps, though, that was really all Effie wanted.

—-

Dustin.

If you had a choice, would you choose fantasy over reality?

There was something wrong with this boy. She couldn’t tell what it was and no one else seemed to notice it when she asked. There was something off about him but her instincts told her not to worry, not to stay away. She was still hesitant.

Something about him was so surreal that every moment she spoke with him, she felt like she was in a fantasy. He couldn’t have been real; there was no way someone could exist in her world who was not only broody, but friendly as well. He contradicted himself and she knew that was what made him so exciting to be around.

She could feel themselves getting closer with each passing day. At first glance, it seemed like it would be too difficult to maintain any kind of friendship; but a closer look would reveal that it didn’t take too much effort. A friendship like this, so natural, so easy, so simple, was rare and hard to come by. Even with what little experience she had with people like him, she knew she couldn’t let him slip by. They were too good of friends for her to stop and leave. The way she always did.

99 Drabbles

blogkefilliaa — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 16:59:00 -0700

number six.

Title: Conquer
Author: Kefillia
Date: September 1, 2011

Summary: Dark came and she took away everything.
Author’s Note: Unedited, completely. Read at your own risk. I am not responsible for blindness or excruciating pain from viewing this. (:

Brightness surrounded me as my eyes fluttered open. That’s all there was around me - pure white. I looked down and sure enough, I was clothed in white. Suddenly, forms began appearing. Clothed in the same attire, faces of my friends appeared on these appearing forms. Two of them linked either of my arms and looked off into the distance. Their mesmerized stares drew my eyes towards that direction as well.

There was a tiny black spot, growing larger by the second.

“What’s that?” I breathed.

“She’s coming,” the girl on my left, Amelie, whispered.

“Who?”

“Her,” Quentin, the boy on my right said. “She has no known name, but she’s rumored to be the Queen of Darkness.”

“She’s completely unlike any other enemy we’ve faced before. I’ve heard her presence isn’t cold and demeaning at all,” Amelie stated.

“But look at our army; we are strong. We will not fall so easily, I pray.”

I looked behind me to see hundreds of figures in white, many of them with familiar faces. Looking back at the growing spot, I waited. We waited.

The darkness came quickly, rushing in but stopping abruptly about an inch from our feet. A woman was clothed in a black cloak, her long hair covering half of her face. She did not have an army with her as we did; she was alone.

She smiled, “I will defeat you without moving any closer, I promise.”

Quentin spoke, “You have no army. You will not be able to conquer us.”

“Just wait.”

From the back of our army a voice sounded out, “It’s so warm, so comforting. Do you feel it? The warmth?”

Within seconds, more voices made their thoughts known.

“It’s such a nice feeling.”

“So warm, so wonderful.”

“I want to go to the warmth.”

“It’s warming me from the inside out.”

One by one, figures walked. They walked past the front lines and entered the darkness, standing behind the cloaked woman. In a matter of minutes, the only people left in the light were Quentin, Amelie, and myself.

“We are your closest friends,” Amelie said, squeezing my arm reassuringly. “We will never leave you.”

The woman spoke, “Quentin. Come, please? Don’t you feel the warmth, the love and care we can provide? I can give you so much more than she can.”

“The warmth… It’s tugging on my heart. I want that feeling,” he declared.

His arm unlinked from mine and he floated to the other side.

She spoke again, her voice as sweet as honey, “Amelie, come.”

Amelie’s grip on my arm became tighter.

“I want to stay here,” she looked at me, tears streaming down her face. “I do, I really do. But my body, it’s moving on it’s own accord.”

“Amelie,” I cried. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I can’t help it. She’s making my heart feel warm, as if it were at home. I can’t control it.”

Her grip loosened and she drifted away. And I was alone on my side. After barely any time at all she had the army as I was left with nothing.

The woman spoke, pride emanating from her voice, “They were drawn to me, away from you. Their hearts chose me and their body and actions followed. Surrender now because you can’t possibly win. Admit it, you’re defeated.”

“Why? Why would you take the most important people in my life away from me?”

“It’s simple,” she replied. “I thought you would be able to figure it out for yourself, but I suppose you’re much too vapid for that. I have three words for you: I am better.”

True Lovers are Silly

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 10:02:23 -0700

Title: True Lovers are Silly
Summary: All her life, Veronica had learned from her uncle that the Weasley family was a disgrace to the wizarding world. She had been taught to despise them and to look down on them. So naturally, she befriended them. And then, fell in love with one.
Chapter: Year Two, Part 2
Characters: Fred Weasley x OC

Author: Serafina
Date July 26, 2011

Author’s Note: beware.

Veronica-

I wish you the best at Angelina’s house. Have fun. And be sure to study more when you get back to Hogwarts. Draco will need someone to look up to when he arrives next year.

~Your Auntie Narcissa

Veronica.

Enjoy your trip.

Do not do anything we would disapprove of.

Lucius

Home.This was a home, but it definitely wasn’t mine. This one was full of love, much unlike the one I had been forced to call home. That home was composed of dark magic; it broke down your happiness before you even had a chance. What am I doing here? Uncle Lucius would be sure to catch me. I turned around, attempting to make my getaway. I should turn around and hide, tell Fred I couldn’t make -

“Veronica!” I stiffened as I heard a female voice called my full name. Then I realized that the voice was not icy or cold; it almost sounded…welcoming. I turned back to the house and saw a lady at the doorway, a rather large smile on her face. The smile - though the person it belonged to was a stranger - felt familiar. It was Fred’s less mischievous smile.

“Hello. You must be Mrs. Weasley,” I said politely, extending my hand out for her. She took me by surprise and hugged me. I felt stiff and awkward; it felt a little odd being hugged by a motherly figure. I lightly patted her on the back. She let go and looked at me.

“Yes, yes. Fred has told me much about you,” she said, adding hastily, “and George too, of course.” She smiled again and ushered me in to the house. “Fred Weasley! Your friend has arrived.” A small blush began to creep up my neck at the emphasize of the word friend.

“Your house is quite homey, Mrs. Weasley,” I commented. The Burrow, as Fred had called it, was quite different from the Malfoy Manor. It was cluttered and not the least bit roomy. Retracing my words, I silently hoped she wouldn’t take it to any offense.

“Oh, thank you, Veronica,” she said, a little tensely. “It’s what happens when you are bestowed with seven children.” That was a terrible thing to say.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean it quite like that. It feels lived in, like a family actually lives here.”

Her eyes lit up at my words and she said, “I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s been quite difficult with all of our children and Arthur - Mr. Weasley’s job.” Neither Fred nor George nor any of the other siblings had shown themselves yet which was increasing our suspicions of their current whereabouts.

“What does Mr. Weasley do?” I asked, not wanting the awkward atmosphere to stay even though I already knew the answer to that. Uncle Lucius always spoke about how much he loathed Mr. Weasley and his department.

“He works at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley is very good at what he does. Honestly, if it weren’t for Lucius Malfoy and his influence, my Arthur would have been promoted by now!” She exclaimed. “You know, Veronica, you seem quite mature for your age. It doesn’t feel like I’m talking to one of Fred’s schoolmates.”

“That sounds about right. Certain circumstances have caused me to act a little older than I am, I suppose. Although, I do enjoy playing pranks on the twins when the time is appropriate.” I smiled genuinely. Then her eyes lit up as though she had forgotten something.

“Oh! Silly me! I apologize for my lack of manners. Are you hungry? It seems that the boys are up to something; we might as well eat a bit before they arrive.” I was about to decline when my stomach growled, excited by the prospect of homemade food cooked with motherly love.

“I would love something to eat.”

“Mum! I smell that you’ve whipped up something quite delicious!” George’s voice rang from the outside. When the twins walked in, they looked as though a pygmy puff had bitten them.

“Surprised?” I asked coyly. Fred’s smile could’ve melted my face off if I hadn’t been trying so hard to seem aloof with Mrs. Weasley around.

“Of course I am. I’ve been awaiting your arrival since I invited you. I simply forgot that you were coming today. Silly me.” A light blush was arriving onto my cheeks as our eyes met, our gaze lingering.

George gave the two of us a brief look and then pointedly looked at his mother. “Mum?” He started, “Can you help me with something? Upstairs? Please?” George smiled tightly. It took a few seconds but Mrs. Weasley jumped up and scurried upstairs with George following close behind.

A tingling feeling rose in my stomach, spreading each step Fred took towards me. I knew he wasn’t going to kiss me; that would be silly. We were only twelve years old. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it. It was nonsense. Such behavior was inappropriate for our age. Lying is to see him is as well. He picked up my hand and pulled me into a hug.

“I missed you, Ronni,” he whispered.

“…and that’s Bill,” Mr. Weasley finished.

“Your family is quite interesting, Mr. Weasley,” I said. You could tell that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quite proud of their family simply through the way they spoke whenever they mentioned one of them. It was sweet and made me yearn for a family like that.

“Why thank you, Veronica,” he said. I didn’t quite feel like I needed to correct Mr. and Mrs. Weasley when they used my full name; it was comforting to hear my name spoken with sincerity and not cold indifference. “What is your family like?” I mentally cringed.

“Mum and Dad are busy a lot. My aunt and uncle take care of me,” I lied easily. It seemed as though I was lying a lot lately; I had lied to Fred, Uncle Lucius, and now, an actual caring father, Mr. Weasley.

“Dad? Are you done boring Veronica? I want to show her where she’ll be sleeping,” Fred prodded, only masking his whines a little bit.

“Where will Veronica be staying?” Mr. Weasley asked. My heart started racing, hoping I wouldn’t be sharing a room with Fred and George. I had had enough of their pranks at Hogwarts.

“She’ll be sleeping in Ginny’s room,” George answered. He smirked at me as Fred winked. Sigh.

“Very well then.” Not quite.

I was having trouble sleeping. Ginny was a deep sleeper, making no noises. But my heart was racing, wondering what would really happen if Lucius called me. Hoot. Hoot. I saw the Weasley’s owl outside of the window. A rush of courage came over me and I walked to the window to let the owl in.

I sat at back down with the owl on my arm. “You’re a pretty owl, aren’t you?” I cooed. Robotically, I reached into my bag and grabbed a piece of parchment. I scribbled a note on it quickly. Once it was secured to the owl, he flew off and out the window. Writing another note, I chose my words carefully as to not hurt anyone’s feelings.

I walked out of Ginny’s room quietly, careful not to wake her. Fred came out of his room too and upon seeing me, he smirked. “Fancy meeting you here.”

I smiled nervously, hiding the note behind me. “Fancy indeed, Freddie.” He took a step closer to me. I had to tell him. “Fred, Raewyn stopped by.”

“Oh? Is something wrong?” His eyes filled with concern for me at once.

Don’t lie to him, Ronni. “No, nothing. I found it peculiar. She’s so loyal.” I laughed lightly. He looked relieved.

“That’s good. Well, as much as I enjoy chit chatting with you this late at night, I should go sleep. Lots of pranking to catch up on tomorrow morning.”

Uncontrollably, I smiled again. “Yes, of course.” Don’t lie. He’s your best friend.

“But before I do, Ronni, I have to tell you something.” He paused, allowing me a moment to nod. “I…I think-“

“No, Freddie,” I cut him off. Don’t lie now. “I have to leave. I can’t explain it to you right now but I will be able to soon.” His face changed so quickly within a matter of moments that I wasn’t entirely sure if he was relieved or incredulous. “Here’s a letter for your parents. I really do appreciate everything though.” I tiptoed and gave him a big hug. “I’m sorry.”

I pulled away and was about to walk back to grab my things, when he reached for my hand. He pulled me so he look into my eyes. “Ronni, whatever I was about to say, forget about it.”

I was about to respond, but he kept speaking, “Whatever is going on with your family is more important and I don’t want anything I would have said to ruin that. You’re still my best friend and I care loads about you.” I nodded and grinned cheekily.

Dear Angelina,

If you don’t mind, I will be arriving at your house shortly. If it puts you out, I will leave just as quickly.

But I would like to explain a few things to you.

On a lighter note, I think - even if I’m so young - I have some feelings for Fred. But we’re twelve. I suppose I’ll wait.

~Ronni

To Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the rest of the Weasley family:

I do apologize for having to cut my trip shortly. A few family matters popped up and I was ordered to return home. I look forward to seeing you all again and perhaps visiting next holiday break.

Thank you,

Veronica.

True Lovers are Silly

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 09:59:00 -0700

Author: Serafina
Date: July 26, 2011

Year Two

The birds were singing, the sun was shining; it was a beautiful day that anyone could enjoy. Anyone except me. I was currently being isolated from the outside world in the Malfoy Manor. All thanks to one little boy named Draco.

It was summertime. Year two was soon to start and I couldn’t believe it. Seeing as how year one had gone by so fast, I should have expected the time between to as well. By the time school was over, Fred, George, and I were practically inseparable. If I had the red hair and matching freckles, I’d probably be considered their sister. I joined in on their mild pranks, but still scolded them when they did big ones. Although, it was hard to be serious when I scolded them because their pranks were usually sinister and hilarious. It was quite difficult to act as the responsible one, especially with the identical mischievous smiles they flashed at me.

While on the Hogwarts Express, we promised to write each other weekly. He gave me the address to the burrow but I couldn’t give him mine. I knew that if I told Fred that I lived at the Malfoy Manor, all hopes of no one knowing my family of origin would be destroyed. Although I did silently give myself a mental beating because Fred, being the only person I could actually trust at Hogwarts, would never tell my secret. Instead, I assured Fred that my owl, Raewyn, would be reliable and intelligent enough to come back home to me.

Now it was currently the end of July and there were so many letters from Fred, that my dear, lovely cousin Draco had noticed (by coming into my room without permission, might I add) and told Aunt Narcissa. Auntie told Uncle Lucius and Raewyn was taken away. I was now currently in a dwindling state of sadness but did my so-called family care? I think not.

Only one good thing came out of this summer and it was the fact that I was twelve years old, which meant that I could get my own broomstick. In his letters, Fred promised that he would teach me as soon as we were back at Hogwarts, since he and George were bound to be the next beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The thought made me smile. Really though, anything about Fred made me smile.

“Veronica, dear. It’s time to go. We’re going to visit your mother and father in Azkaban,” Auntie Narcissa’s voice rang. Her voice was light but when it was, the sound of irritation was being masked.

“Just a minute, Auntie. I’ll be right down,” I responded. My body vibrated with impatience as I called her ‘Auntie’. It was mandatory for me and I dreaded it awfully much. But I couldn’t lash out at them again - “one more strike and you are out of this house,” Uncle Lucius had said the last time - I’d have no where to go.

“Veronica, dear, time to go.” The voice came again, this time with no masking at all.

“Coming, Auntie,” I replied, mustering up as much politeness as I possibly could.

“Veronica Lestrange, you will get down here this instance. Your beloved aunt does not need to call you more than once. Understand?” A gruff voice climbed the stairs and into my room.

“Yes, Uncle.” And with that, I slammed my door closed and scurried down the hall. This was going to be fun.

Walking along the corridors of Azkaban was quite damaging to my health. If it weren’t for uncle’s past, perhaps there’d be less dementors hovering. But no, we get to have the entire guard. Honestly, what do they think my uncle could possibly do? Especially with at 12 year old on his hands?

“Veronica, darling, look at how much you’ve grown.” My mother reached over and touched my cheek. It was gesture of which that should’ve felt very motherly if not for her too cold hands and too rough skin. Instinctively, I flinched. “It’s quite terrible though how you’re not in Slytherin. When your aunt wrote to me, your father and I were disappointed. But don’t worry, we shan’t disown you. For you are nothing like Sirius and Nymphadora.”

My mother’s large, psychotic smile was displayed proudly on her face. Her features were devilish while mine were cherubic, even if we shared them. Everything I had was on her as well, but more intense. We both had brown, curly hair, but hers was darker and wilder than mine. Her nose was sharp and her skin was much paler.

“Mother, hello.” I had to keep my voice steady, just so that my fear of Azkaban and dislike of my family could be concealed. My father hadn’t even acknowledged me and was showering Draco with complements; my mother soon followed suit. I was done with and most likely because of being in Gryffindor. Even if my mother said I shan’t be disowned, I knew that I was far less liked now because of it.

I took a deep breath of the fresh air and absorbed the sounds of children saying good bye to their parents. The Malfoys saw no need of seeing me off, so here I was, on my own once again. I stepped onto the express, eyes scanning for any flash of red hair. I caught sight of Percy’s and we exchanged polite waves. As I kept walking, George stepped right in front of my pathway.

“Hello, Ronni. Pleasure seeing you again,” he greeted me. “I missed you and your letters so much.” It was just like George to try and pretend to be Fred. I would’ve thought that by now, he would be used to the fact that I could always tell when he was pretending.

“Oh, hello, Fred. You must want to know what I thought of your plan to get back at George, yes? Because, quite honestly, I thought that the plan screamed brilliance. He’ll never see it coming,” I said, choosing my words carefully. After a beat, I smirked at George and he reluctantly gave up his façade.

“How’d you know it was me, Twinkles?” he asked.

“How would I not know? George, you know very well I’m able to tell when someone is lying, so why bother pretending to be your brother?” I questioned him, knowing that this was an argument.

“Because it’s fun,” he retorted. I was just about to retaliate when Fred popped up next to his brother, momentarily causing me to be brain dead. George smirked knowingly while Fred simply held my gaze.

“Ronni,” he said. Even though I was only 12 years old, the sound of my name from his lips was all it took for my heart to jump over more than a few beats. “How was your summer? You stopped writing letters to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Raewyn got hurt and we didn’t have any other owls I could use. You didn’t miss them much though, did you?” I asked. “You knew you would see me in a month’s time.”

George laughed and said, “Of course he missed your letters. All he did was wait for them to arrive. You should have seen him when they stopped; he was all sulky-” thwack. I smiled as Fred slapped George across the chest. The twinkle in George’s eye seemed to never disappear, even as he headed into the compartment. Fred was about to follow when he grabbed my hand and said, “And for the record, I did not sulk.”

———————————————————————————————————-

“Ronni!” I looked up from my Potions book and saw Fred running towards me. “I need your help.” “What’s wrong, Fred?”

“You know how our Potions essay is due tomorrow morning to Professor Snape?” He asked spat out.

I answered tentatively, “Yes, of course. I finished it yesterday.” His eyes lit up. “No. Fred, I will not allow you to copy another essay of mine. Snape almost caught us the last time.” His eyes began to silently plead. “No.” I sighed. “Fine.” Curse his eyes.

“You are a gift sent from the heavens!” he exclaimed. Fred pulled me up off from my seat and into a hug, practically lifting me off the ground.

As he set me back down, I looked at him crossly, “Don’t you forget it.” He grinned cheekily, sat down next to me, and started rewording parts of my essay for the last five inches of his parchment.

I was in a pickle. Professor Snape had called to see me - and only me - after class for a “special meeting.” From the way he told me to make sure I stayed after class, I thought it was about the essay Fred had copied from me the day before.

“Miss…Ronni,” Professor Snape started, “it has come to my attention that you are in need of a little guidance.”

My eyes gave me away; they lit up with confusion. I responded, “I’m sorry? I don’t believe I understand.”

“Then let me clarify for you. Your aunt and uncle are worried about you. For what reasons, I don’t care. But, as one of your teachers I am required to discuss their worries with you for your own good.” I was still confused, even more so since Professor Snape spoke very slowly and it took me time to process what he said.

“I don’t think my aunt and uncle have very much ground for being worried, Professor, if you don’t mind me saying.” He waved me off with a flick of his hand.

“Nevertheless, Miss - ” He paused and looked at me daringly, “Lestrange, I am under the pretense that you have been busying yourself with the Mister Weasleys.” Unwillingly, I flinched when he said my true last name. “As you know, over the past year, they have established a reputation as troublemakers. Now I assume that as an intelligent, hard-working student you would not to ruin any chances at establishing your own reputation here at Hogwarts? Especially if you would like to be a prefect or Head Girl when the time arrives.”

I knew he had good points; but I simply could not bring myself to agree with him. Fred and George were my friends and they wouldn’t taint my reputation in front of any teachers. “With all respect, Professor Snape, I don’t think that my friends are a hindrance. Thank you for your concern though.”

“It is not of my concern, only my obligation. You may go now. Heed my advice if you want to do well here.” With that, I fled the room.

As I was walking up the moving staircases, a pair of hands covered my eyes. My first reaction was to scream for help, but I suppressed the urge. This was Hogwarts, the safest place I could possibly be. So I hit my attacker in the stomach with my elbow.

“OOMPH. Honestly, Ronni did you have to do that?” Fred exclaimed. He fell into step beside me and I shot him a look. “Okay, I possibly might have deserved that. But in my defense, I had to cover your eyes. Pranking is in my blood. I’m sorry though.” He grinned cheekily.

“Oh, Freddie. You know I can’t possibly stay mad at you,” I said, a faint blush creeping onto my cheeks. Before I could let it go any further, I changed the subject. “Do you want to go study in the common room for our Transfiguration exam next week?” Fred burst into laughter. He stopped long enough to tell the Fat Lady our password before resuming his hysterical fit.

“Our winter holiday is next week, Ronni. Do you really think anybody is going to be studying for this exam?” I was about to protest, pointing out that, regardless of that, Professor McGonagall would still make the test plenty difficult when he continued with, “And don’t you think that Professor McGonagall and other professors here would know that? The exams aren’t going to be difficult at all.”

“Fred Weasley. Not everyone takes class as lightly as you and George. You are aware of that, yes?” I gave him a stern look as serious as I could muster. Unfortunately, it didn’t wipe off his cute smirk. “How about this: I will study with you and do my homework for the next week if, and only if, you visit George and I at the Burrow this holiday?” My heart surged with happiness as he asked me.

I didn’t have to hesitate, think, or process when I said, “That’s a deal.”

Dear Uncle Lucius,

I hope you, Auntie, and Draco are doing wonderfully while I am away. And if you have visited my mum and dad in my absence, I hope you have been sending them my love too.

I do, however, have a question for you and Auntie. I was wondering if this holiday, I could visit my friends and stay with them for a few days. I wouldn’t be intruding; they genuinely invited me into their homes. Please let me know soon so I can be able to arrange things with them before we leave Hogwarts.

On a different note, I have been studying endlessly for my exams and hope to bring in good grades this quarter.

All my love,

Veronica

Veronica.

I have sent your parents your love.

And who are these friends of yours?

Lucius

Dear Uncle Lucius,

The friend that has invited me is Angelina Johnson. She is in many of my classes and if you do speak to Professor Snape, he can be able to verify that she is indeed my friend.

With love,

Veronica

Veronica.

You may go.

I have discussed this with your aunt and a few of your professors.

If I find out you are staying with a different family you can be sure that there will be consequences.

Lucius

True Lovers are Silly

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 09:56:00 -0700

Author’s Note: This is fanfiction. Read at your own risk.

Year One.

I was eleven years old when I was to start at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was timid as I walked up and down the the Hogwarts Express, trying to find an empty compartment. A voice spoke up asking if I needed a place to sit as I was about to start another stroll. I turned around and matched the voice to the redheaded boy. Nodding shyly, I walked into the compartment after he did. As I did so, I instantly noticed two identical redheaded boys sitting side by side. One was petting a rat and the other glanced up, ours locking in an instant. The way the smile began to play out on his lips was enough to make my heart speed up. Here I was, only eleven, falling for a boy I didn’t even know.

I managed to tear my eyes away and gain my voice back long enough to say to the beautiful boy, “Hello. You don’t mind me sitting here do you?”

Without a glance, the twin with the rat said, “Of course not. You can sit next to Percy.” I assumed that the boy who had invited me in was Percy and sat down next to him, still sneaking glances at the other twin. “I’m Fred and that’s George.” I felt something strange emanating from the words he spoke.

Quite softly, I said, “You’re lying.” The twins’ eyes snapped up and looked at me as though I had grown an extra head. After all, here I was, a timid girl boldly accusing them of such things. I tilted my head questioningly.

“How do you know we were lying? Not even our mum can tell us apart,” the real Fred asked. I saw a twinkle in his eyes.

“I happen to have an uncanny ability to tell when people are lying.” I laughed lightly and glanced at Percy. “What year are you in?”

“I’m a third year. These two are first years. Are you the same age as well, uhm, I don’t believe you mentioned your name yet. My apologies.”

“I’m a first year as well. My name is Veronica, but really, I’d rather you call me ‘Ronni’.”

“Do you have any other abilities besides being able to tell if one is lying to you?” Percy asked, eyeing me carefully.

“I can turn myself into a white tiger. You know, like an animagus. It’s supposed take years to master but for some strange reason, I’m able to do it already.” I smiled shyly, one that could hopefully be taken as modest. I really wasn’t proud of my extra powers; that was my mum’s job. Wanting the change the subject, I asked, “what house are you in, Percy?”

Suddenly, a bundle of girls rushed past and Percy stood up just as quickly. He said stiffly, “I’ll be back soon. Stay out of trouble.” I nodded as Fred and George grinned mischievously. Seeing them smile, I noticed their freckles and the way it matched their flaming red hair and green eyes. They sure look familiar.

Something possessed me to ask, “What is your last name?” They looked at each other and laughed.

“You mean to say that you haven’t guessed yet?” They laughed again as I shook my head. “I thought that the hand-me-down robes or the red hair would have been a dead giveaway. We’re Weasleys,” George said proudly. Of course, it was only natural that the people kind enough to offer me a seat would be the ones I have been taught to hate growing up.

“Oh, do you have more brothers?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Although, Uncle Lucius tended to exaggerate such things. He made it sound as if the Weasleys were big enough to be their own army.

“Yes, of course. There’s Bill, the oldest, Charlie, who’s five years older than us, Ron, who is two years younger than us, and finally, Ginny, the baby and the only girl of the family,” Fred answered kindly.

Remembering that Percy hadn’t answered my question, I asked again, “What house is Percy in? And your other brothers? And your parents? Sorry, if I’m being a bit of a bugger. Your family seems much more interesting than mine.”

“Weasleys are Gryffindors,” they said proudly. Their smiles were cheeky and almost matched, if not for the way Fred’s made my heart sing.

“Every generation of Weasleys have been in Gryffindor. What about your family?” Fred asked genuinely whilst George went back to play with the rat.

“Oh. Uhm. My family is made up mostly of purebloods, so they were all in Slytherin. Come to think of it, two weren’t: my favorite cousin and an uncle.” My heart had quickened from anxiety; discussing my family tended to do this to me.

“That’s rather interesting. My dad works for the Ministry of Magic. What do your parents do?” He seemed so sincere as he asked, as though he really wanted to know. A part of me strongly believed that he did.

“My mum and dad have gone away,” I replied, the lie nervously rolling off my tongue. I had already begun lying to this boy that I had started to fall for. “So I live with my mum’s favorite sister and her family.” Not wanting to continue, I silently hoped for an interruption; my wish was received. Percy rushed back into the compartment, urging us to put on our robes. I grabbed mine from my bag and put them on quickly.

As we followed Professor McGonagall down the corridor, Fred tapped me on the shoulder and began to lean in. I caught my breath as I waited for his lips to meet my cheek, but instead he whispered, “If you get in to Slytherin like the rest of your family, George and I might have to shun you.” He smiled, letting me know that he was joking so I grinned back. Fred brushed against my arm as he made to pass me and I shivered, trying to calm my heart down. He’s so adorable.

“Oops, sorry,” I apologized to the person I had bumped into. It was a girl with dark skin who had a smile to show that she honestly didn’t care. I stretched my hand and said, “Hullo. I’m Ronni. Sorry again.”

She took my hand and said, “Oh, it’s alright. I’m Angelina. And this Alicia,” She pointed to the girl standing next to her. I was about to greet her as well when Professor McGonagall began to speak.

“Now, as I call your name, please come up and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. From there, when your house has been chosen, you will go and sit at your house’s table.” I had luckily been able to speak with Professor McGonagall only moments before, asking her if she could keep my last name under wraps. She assured me that she understood and promised not to use it. I was eternally grateful that at least someone would understand how shameful I was of my mum and dad. She began going down the list alphabetically. When she got to me, I walked up and sat down on the stool. I could feel the hat thinking and considering which house to place me in. I knew that all I could do was wait. I thought about the houses and being in Slytherin. In Slytherin, I could be the most powerful witch of my year; even more so, more powerful than my mum. But if I was placed in Gryffindor, great things awaited me. More powerful, special, and precious than the darkness and evil I would gain from being in Slytherin. I imagined growing up to be like my mother. But I couldn’t take it so I opened my eyes and breathed, “Gryffindor please.”

The hat fidgeted and whispered, “Really?” When it felt me nod, it announced, “Well then. GRYFFINDOR.” The Gryffindor table’s cheers were unmistakeable. I looked and saw Fred clapping harder and cheering louder than anyone else. I winked at him and flounced my way down to the table to sit by myself, waiting for two particular redheaded boys to join me.

I watched as Fred made his way up to the seat. Once there, he have George a thumbs up. The hat barely touched his head when it called out, “GRYFFINDOR.” He ran down to the table and gave me hug. I could have sworn that my heart literally stopped for more than a few seconds. George came down next and pointed to another redheaded boy that I hadn’t seen before. He mouthed, “That’s Charlie.” I nodded and waved at him as the twins sat down on either side of me. I had never felt a joy as extreme as this one; one that let me know I was finally where I belonged.

“I cannot believe that I am already swamped with homework. It’s only the first day of classes!” I groaned. Complaining to my new friends Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet was a new hobby of mine. “I think perhaps we should go find Fred and George. Yes?”

“Of course we would. Unless you want alone time with them?” Angelina questioned. I looked at her incredulously and began to shake my head.

“You really are something, Angelina. But of course, come with me. We will all be best of friends. All five of us,” I grinned at her and skipped off to the two redheaded boys in the corner. “Hello, George. Hello, Fred.”

“Ronni!” Fred exclaimed. He smiled at me with his childish grin and stared at me for a moment. I could have stared back into eyes for all of eternity if Angelina hadn’t noticed and said, “HELLO. Earth to Ronni.” I snapped out of my daze and giggled.

“So how are your classes, Freddie?” I asked, sitting between the twins and leaning towards Fred. I looked at him questioningly whilst Angelina and Alicia sat down next to George. The three of them launched into a conversation about how horrible our potions teacher, Professor Snape, really was. Fred rolled his eyes and said, “Oh well. All of my teachers think that George and I are going to be just like Percy. And Snape, of course, there’s no denying it, hates our guts. The two of us talked throughout class, and he took away 20 points! It’s only the first day, and Gryffindor is at 0.”

“Wait, Fred. You mean to tell me, that the 20 points I earned in Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration class this morning, is gone because of you and George talking?” I squealed furiously.

“Yep, that’s right! Have you, perhaps, come up with our nicknames, yet?” George interrupted. I slowly shook my head as a boy popped out.

“Hello, George. Fred,” He said their names rather aimlessly, which meant that he hadn’t quite figured out how to tell the twins apart. Then again, I guess it was quite easy for me to tell who was who since one’s eyes made my heart burst with happiness and sing with joy whilst the other’s just made me smirk. “And who are these pleasant young ladies?” He winked at Alicia, Angelina, and me. The three of us began to giggle.

“Hello, Lee. These are our friends, Alicia, Angelina, and Ronni. Girls, this is Lee Jordan. He’s in our Potions class,” George said as he introduced us all.

“Miss Ronni. I daresay you look quite familiar. Do you have any infamous family members?” Lee questioned. Suddenly, it felt as though time had froze (and most certainly not in the way . My sole purpose was to not be compared to my mother so I had asked all of my teachers to refrain from saying my last name and not mentioning my family at all. I could feel everyone’s eyes boring into me.

I looked up and boldly said, “No, I do not.”

“Are you sure? I think you’re hiding something from us. We’re all friends here. You should just tell us.”

“We just met, so I wouldn’t exactly consider us friends.” As the last word calmly slipped off my tongue, I blinked. I had lost. With a sense of urgency, I picked up my book bag and scurried down the corridor. But if I had scurried a little bit faster, I would not have overheard Lee say to the rest of them, “Well, she’s a bit sensitive, isn’t she?” The tears began to fall.

I was in the common room, sitting on the couch by myself when an arm wrapped around me. I opened my eyes and found myself staring into Fred’s.

“Are you okay, Ronni? I’m sorry about Lee. We just met him and truth be told, he didn’t seem to be that big of a prat earlier.” Fred rolled his eyes and looked at me. I was taken aback a little and couldn’t really speak.

“I’m fine, really, Fred.” He pulled me into a hug, and rubbed my back.

“Good because I’m sure the six of us will be best of friends. You, me, George, Angelina, Alicia, and Lee. I’m sure of it. But only if you’re okay with that. Are you, my dear?”

Into his chest, I whispered, “Of course. I’d like that.”

next chapter

True Lovers are Silly

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 09:53:00 -0700

Author’s Note: this is fanfiction. this is nonsense. this is really for hp fans who are delusional and emotionally attached to these characters. just like i am.

Once upon a time a girl named Veronica lived a wonderful life with her caring mum and dad. No scratch that. That is a complete lie because Miss Veronica’s parents were actually Death Eaters and they spent most of Veronica’s life in Azkaban.

Yes, my parents were Death Eaters. Terrible, murderous people they were. And my mum wanted me to be one too. She never expected that she would want me to be a Death Eater until I was the mere age of five. I had accidentally conjured a patronus while my uncle was around. He saw my beautiful silver phoenix flying through the sky and decided to take me to Azkaban to show my mum. I couldn’t conjure it up again in front of her because I wasn’t able to be happy in that dreadful cell. Nevertheless, my uncle explained it to her and she laughed. Her laugh was high and exhilarated and even then, it made my ears feel as though they were crumbling. I had to endure her laugh, Auntie Narcissa’s cruel comments, and Uncle Lucius’s put downs of the Weasley family all my life. When your pure-blood family has taught you to hate Muggle-borns and Muggles, your uncle and parents are Death Eaters, and your last name is Lestrange, you are forced to endure a lot of things.

Yes, my last name is Lestrange. My mum is Bellatrix and my dad Rodolphus. Me? I’m Veronica. Veronica Merope Isabella Lestrange. And this is the story of how I fell in love with Fred Weasley.

next chapter

25 Dabbles

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Sat, 23 Jul 2011 12:50:00 -0700

Title: 25 Dabbles
Chapter: Part One
Tagline: In which we are introduced to the guardian angels.
Author: Serafina
Date: July 23, 2011

Author’s Note: This is part one. The words are aloof, strawberries, puppy love, magic, gloves, and clean. The order of the dabbles are not the order in which our protagonist met them or became friends with them. They’re out of order. :D all dabbles - excluding the introduction - are all 200 words or less. Enjoy!

Part One. Where all things must begin.

Our story starts with a young, unnamed protagonist. But before we begin, you must be told about the Six. The Six was a group of people destined to meet our protagonist and change her life. However, their names must be kept a secret; so here I present you with bits of information that result in their aliases.

First we have her. She was a beautiful, caring girl who only wished to see those in her life filled with pure, utter happiness. We shall call her Wish.

Next is a boy. He sought to understand and help those around him with his startling ability of perception. For this story, he is known as Percy.

Another boy, a bit childlike, wanted to be exceptional and recognized in the eyes of his peers. Sadly, he was unaware that he was not a disappointment to them. He will be referred to as Win.

A pretty girl is after. She was full of laughter and brought light to everyone’s life she entered. Because she is light, she is Aurora.

The last girl was assumed to be made up of only effervescence and love for she was so beautiful and bubbly that she made everything magical. For all intents and purposes, she is dubbed Effie.

And finally, the last guardian. Perhaps, he was the darkest of them all. He was mysterious and quiet, yet happy. His emotions were not clearly displayed for all to see, even his closest friends. This is Dustin.

These were the people fated to change the life of our unnamed lady. Of course, they did so successfully.

——

Aloof is in.

It had been two years since she had first met Percy. Within that time, his bond with her friends had strengthened immediately; he began to dole out advice whenever they needed it. It hurt a bit; she used to be the one to give them help and now she was being replaced.

She was not quite sure if something was wrong with her specifically. It seemed to be that he only veered away from her. She was unsure if he was simply aloof or if he did not like her. They danced around greetings and conversations, never speaking to one another. It was actually nerve-wracking. She felt insecure and awkward whenever they were stuck with each other. She didn’t know how to start up a conversation with him - or even how to say hello.

But perhaps, it did not have to be this way. Maybe she could change things. It seemed silly though; why should she go out of her way to talk to someone who clearly did not want to give her the time of day? Why should she make the effort to bring someone else into her damaged life?

——

Strawberries are like people.

Knowing someone for eleven years is rather simple. Staying friends with someone for that long can be difficult. But that was not the case for her and Wish. It was hard to believe that they had been friends for so long and managed to get in so few fights. They rarely had periods of not speaking; it was unfathomable.

The two had met when they were young. They bonded quickly, not caring about their differences. They grew up together, keeping in touch and never losing sight of the other. Even after all these years they were still strawberries to each other: everything was on the outside like the seeds. All of their flaws, secrets, and quirks were no longer hidden behind masks they wore in front of everyone else; in fact, it was quite the opposite. There wasn’t a thing they could keep hidden from each other.

And for that, she was incredibly grateful for someone like Wish. Even if she could not understand unconditional love herself, she knew it when she saw it. Undoubtedly, the love from Wish was that of the utmost magical kind. The kind that stuck around for years and moments and problems to come.

——

Magic is of the purest imagination.

There was something about this new girl that she could not exactly figure out. She was loud and friendly and surprisingly, people seemed to enjoy her presence. She was astonished that this girl - Effie - could still be both herself and pleasant. All this time she thought a balance between the two would be exceedingly difficult to execute. Nonetheless, here was Effie, bright and bold.

Effie was made of a specific essence; one that could not be easily placed. Time and time again, she was thrust into situations with her and she felt that essence. It could not be ignored. Finally, when the two were together, she cracked it. That essence was magic. A magic so beautiful it affected everyone it came into contact with.

So she was sure that Effie and her magic could prove to be useful in her life; but of course, she was hesitant to allow another person in. Her life was disastrous and she wondered how she could want to bring someone into that who was wonderful.

——

It has to be clean, clean, clean.

Friendships cannot start messy. Though she did not know much about friendships - or starting ones for that matter - she did know that. So when she began to feel a need to befriend Win, she knew that it had to be done cleanly and carefully. From what she could tell, he was a sweet boy who made her feel as though she needed to protect him. Always.

She kept trying to be the one to start it but she did not know where to begin. A few awkward conversations between them had already been conducted here and there but her efforts proved to be of no use. This particular situation was becoming more difficult because he was not someone she had known for most of her life nor was he a social butterfly.

Something about Win was causing her to want - for the first time - a new, budding friendship. So she knew that she had to keep trying but her faith in love and friendship was declining as each effort failed. All she wanted was a clean slate; he was it.

——

The gloves come off when the heat turns on.

He was different. He was not the usual type of person she hung out with. But of course, that didn’t stop the bond from forming. It was obvious at first that they would become good friends. They argued about trivial things; however, they would always make up, forgetting what their debate had been about.

It was different with him. She was different with him. When they talked to each other, everything slipped away; the masks, the gloves, and the reality fell away until their discussion ended. Even from the beginning she noticed how differently she acted when he was around. She was not afraid to hold back her thoughts or feelings and neither was he.

Nevertheless of their natural friendship, she constantly reminded herself not to get too close to him. She knew she must keep things platonic and trivial; it couldn’t go any deeper than that. Otherwise, she knew, she would scare herself out of their almost-friendship and lose him forever. She had inkling that their destiny together would be full of laughs and tears and memories. They simply had to wait until she was ready to take the next step with Dustin and become extremely good friends.

——

Puppy Love: Short&Sweet.

She didn’t understand why Aurora did not believe her when she stated that their longtime friend used to have a crush on her. Everyone knew it. He had been head-over-heels for her back in their elementary school days. It was puppy love and absolutely adorable.

Aurora questioned her, wanting to understand herself why or how he could possibly have had feelings for her. And she knew that it was because Aurora was made of light. She was friendly and bubbly and shined in all aspects of life. It was simple, really. A boy would have had to been daft to not be attracted to such light.

In the beginning, that was how their semi-friendship had formed. Their personalities had been similar; the two were both bright and shiny. Over time though, they were close but their friendship had weakened significantly. Perhaps because Aurora stayed shiny while she became dark. She still did not understand.

Yet here they were, together again. And she was determined to make Aurora accept that there had once been a time of puppy love in her life. Some things never changed.

25 Dabbles

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 22:02:00 -0700

Author: Serafina
Title: 25 Dabbles
Summary: She was the girl who didn’t understand friendship. They were her guardian angels. So she wrote about them, detailing her love for them, word by word, phrase by phrase. Simply recapturing the memories they gave her.
Chapter: Prologue

A/N: Just a little background….

Prologue. (No word)

There once was a girl. Her name is of no importance; however, her life was what drew people in, the light in her eyes and happiness in her laugh. And yet, this was the girl who did not understand the depth of a friendship, how to live, and even how to be loved. Soon, you could see the light flicker in her eyes, how her laugh did not bear any emotion, and almost feel the emptiness in her voice. These were the things that caused her near-downfall. She was at her breaking point: a point where she felt forgotten, blended into the background by everyone she knew.

But then she was saved.

The girl who did not know what love was could finally show it because of the people she met. Her love for them was strong and fierce. They protected her, cared for her, and loved her. So she wrote about them. She wrote about the magic they brought to her life, the lessons they taught her, and most importantly, the love they gave her. She took words and simple phrases and twisted them into a craft she knew well; she transformed them into stories so they could see that she loved them as well.

25 Dabbles

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 20:02:00 -0700

Author: Serafina
Title: 25 Dabbles
Summary: She was the girl who didn’t understand friendship. They were her guardian angels. So she wrote about them, detailing her love for them, word by word, phrase by phrase. Simply recapturing the memories they gave her.
Chapter: Foreword

Author’s Note: 25 words or phrases. One story. Nothing’s in order. :D

Foreword.

These are the words and phrases I will be using.

evidence
i’m here
funeral
puppy love
gloves
blackboard
muse
magic
clean
secret
superstition
fantasy
test
tease
storm
strawberries
weapon
beach
lost
cry
aloof
blood
tower block
taxi
search

Perseverance

sh0rtyb0y888 — Sun, 17 Jul 2011 18:31:00 -0700

Author: Pengu

Perseverance. According to dictionary.com, it means: a steady persistence ina course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties,obstacles, or discouragement.

I find this definition lacking. It’s too short. Too impersonal.

What it DOES mean, though, is a lot of things.

Perseverance in our spiritual walks

Don’t give up on God. Seriously. Don’t. Give. Up. Things may seem tough right now, you might think that he’s deserted you, or doesn’t care about you at all. All are lies. He DOES look out for you. And if you’re asking how, just look around you. You’ve got friends. You’ve got family. You’ve got people supporting you. It may not be God speaking to you directly, but you’ve got people around you in which God uses to push you forward. They speak words of encouragement, pushing you forward, giving you second chances when it seems like you don’t deserve them at all. While times may be looking bleak right now, God doesn’t randomly place people in bad situations. I’m sure if you look back at horrible incidents, and you look with an open eye, you’ll see God’s hand working in it somehow. And if you’re having doubts, then go to a pastor. They have years of insight. Or rather, go to the Bible yourself. See for yourself. Christians aren’t people who are bound by rules and are kill joys. Rather, we have a vibrant and ever growing relationship with our Father, with the most POWERFUL being in the universe. That alone is beautiful. Don’t give on God because He doesn’t give up on you (:

Final thoughts of this are from 1 Corinthians 10:13: no temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

Perseverance in school

This is something us teens struggle with on a daily basis. If we fail on this one test, then our day goes down the drain. I feel your pain as well. But remember to dust yourself off and pick yourself up. There are other chances, other opportunities. And if it’s a final grade at the end of the semester that you’re ashamed of, don’t be. Academics isn’t everything. This is something I learned the hard way. Going to my school, homework and tests quickly become your life. Succeeding in every test, project, and every homework assignment because our ultimate goal. But look outside the box. Look at the world around you. It’s full of opportunity. That final grade in that class is not the door to your future. Rather, it’s one of the many steps to get to that door of your future. So push on forward. Compare yourself to no one but yourself. Set your own goals, and work to meet them. This way, you won’t be disappointed when you see others.

Perseverance in our relationships

Stick with your friends. Especially the closest ones to you. Yea, they may mess up and things might be tense for a while, but usually your friend doesn’t mean to piss you off. We’re all human. We make mistakes. But don’t leave your friend over some mistake that they make. Push through it, try to repair whatever damage it caused, and move on. A close friend is one of the best things a person can have. When a boyfriend or girlfriend or family member pisses you off, you can turn to that best friend. They’ll always be there for you. And when you two have an argument, don’t throw away the entire relationships because of some petty argument. Push on and grow strong together again. Forget what’s past and push on towards what’s ahead. Something as beautiful as a friendship shouldn’t be allowed to be destroyed by something as ugly as an argument.

Perseverance through problems

When we’re going through drama, a low point in our lives, or just a time of depression, don’t keep it to yourself. There are a lot of people in the world that would gladly lay aside what they’re doing in order to help you. Do not let the pressures of world destroy your views on the freedoms of you controlling your own life. Talk to people, ask around, share, and share the pain together. Everything is meant to be shared, not hoarded to oneself. Especially pain. It would be disastrous if life was meant to spent alone. With the help of friends, push on, and show up on the opposite side of the tunnel. You can do it.

100 prompts

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 16:15:08 -0700

Title: Ordinary Days
Summary: All it took was a glimpse into her heart.
Author: Serafina

Date: July 14, 2011

Prompt: 8

It was an ordinary day, at least that was what she thought of it from the get-go. Her mind was less cluttered, her heart less jumpy. Everything was at an unusual ease.

As she stared at her computer screen her thoughts began to wander. She couldn’t allow herself to think of such things, especially if they were about him. All they did was break her heart a little more each time. And today of all days, the most ordinary she had had in a long while, she was feeling vulnerable to her thoughts. So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she wasn’t able to stop her mind from going in the direction it was so determined to head in. Soon, she found herself deeply consumed in her daydreams.

She saw herself laying in bed, an arm wrapped around her waist and her head lying on his chest. Although they were fully clothed, to some, it would still be considered a rather compromising position. She opened her eyes, tilting her head upwards to meet his. His big brown eyes gazed into her own and for a second she was breathless. She still didn’t know how someone as neurotic and deranged as her could end up with somebody as extraordinary and amazing as him. Yet, here they were, staring at each other with eyes filled with love and adoration. He managed to lean down a little and place a tantalizing kiss on her forehead. Her body tingled from where he placed the kiss down to the tips of her toes. As she pushed herself up, she kept her eyes on him and smirked slightly. Knowing what she was thinking, he wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her down for a slow and gentle -

She opened her eyes with a start. Feeling like a little girl who yearned for the biggest lollipop in the story, she began to mentally chide herself for such thoughts. Her mind pushed them aside, until they were nearly suppressed and never to be heard from again. At least that was what she thought until his screen name popped up on her computer.

100 Prompts

kana-eri-deactivated20111021 — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 11:26:00 -0700

Prompt: 7
Author: Serafina
Date: July 13, 2011

Title: Forgotten
Summary: And the legacy I will leave behind is a tale of unimportance.

A/N: Sorry it’s been so long. D: Here’s something written today.

Here I was, alone in my room wondering what would happen next. My friends were drifting away - or was it me? - and I felt like I had no one to turn to. I saw them every day; regardless, I could see them slipping out of my fingertips going further and further away.

I knew it was happening. Our times, our laughs, and our memories were being forgotten at a startling pace. Soon they’d be like faded pencil marks, erased and blended so long ago.

It hurt so much, knowing that they would never be far away but never close enough to talk to and laugh with again.

So I decided that instead of them leaving me, I would leave. My disappearance would go unnoticed and memories of me would fall to the wayside. But if in the slight chance that someone did remember me, I have no doubt that it’d be brushed off as fast as the thought had come. A thought as unimportant as a fly landing on their shoulder.

This was the legacy I would leave: a tale of unimportance.

It's time for a oneshot!

blogkefilliaa — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 10:07:00 -0700

Hey everyone! Kefillia here. I send my apologies for being gone for the longest time. No drabble today, although I do have to fulfill my two a month quota. But I do have a one shot I wrote about a year ago for y’all. It’s completely unedited and I’ve already gotten some criticisms on what I need to fix. So have a read, and perhaps one day, I will edit this. (:

—

Title: Lost Again
Summary (More like teaser-tidbit): I’m afraid you might choose to leave this world like you wished so many times to do. So I wrote you letters…
Author: Kefillia
Date: February 26, 2011
Status: Complete, with editing in progress.

—

I fucked up. I fucked up bad.

It’s been two days. There hasn’t been a text or a call. Considering the fact that we’ve been texting nonstop for the past few weeks, it’s strange. It was just a spontaneous hello to you and we just clicked. We started talking. You and I got so close in such a short time and you molded yourself into my heart. Without you here talking to me, it feels like something is missing. So I wrote you letters, starting from day one, not that I’ll send them, but because I feel empty.

Dear you,
I’m so sorry. I completely messed up, didn’t I? Well, I did, and I know it, you know it; there’s no saying that I didn’t. I shouldn’t have said all that, even if I was having a bad day. I have absolutely no idea what you’re going through. I was just being selfish, stupid, and completely insensitive. Normally, I would know what the other person’s going through and I could relate, but with you, I couldn’t. It was too much for me. I didn’t really think that these things could happen, especially to my friends of all people. I thought that hiding was horrible, even though I put on a mask all the time. I thought that maybe you could’ve possibly been lying and all that pain you told me you felt was untrue. I didn’t want you to be in pain. I just wanted to help, but apparently, I didn’t sound like it. We were doing so well, trusting each other and all. You thought that I could be the one you could turn to, but I guess I just turned out like all the rest.
With love,
me.

Today is the fourth day we’ve stopped talking. I’ve sent texts like a lovesick puppy, apologizing, but no response comes. Perhaps, he thinks I’m not sincere. I wish I could go visit you, but your school is too far from mine. I know that you’re probably smiling right now, laughing with all our friends. You’ve known my best friends longer than you’ve known me, yet you trusted me. Me.

Dear you,
Do you feel that emptiness inside of you, or is it just me? Maybe I just get attached to quickly. You were like my brother, and I was one of your best friends. How could we be ruined so fast by something stupid that came out of my mouth? I know it was completely my fault, but you think that it was your fault that you told me what was under that happy face of yours. I wanted to know, remember? So this was all on me… not you. All I wanted to do was find a way to help, because I’m just one of those people who help others when they’re feeling down, even though half the time, I don’t know what I should do. But you thought you were hurting me, making me depressed. Well, I was already in that state of mind before you came along. So why are you blaming yourself, then shutting me out?
With love,
me.

It’s been a week. I hope you haven’t lost hope yet. You’ve told me countless times about how you just wanted to die. How you just wanted to disappear because no one would even care. I hope you’re alright, and that you’re holding together. Things haven’t gotten that bad, have they?

Dear you,
How are you? I hope that life is as it was before I came along. That way, you don’t have anything to worry about. I know depression can get bad, but I hope you don’t get that far. You always told me that I wouldn’t care, that if you were gone, I’d care for a little while, and then forget later. I always denied it, but I’ve been thinking. If I were to suddenly go, who would care? I know people would care for a while, but they’d just eventually forget about me, because I’m just a small fragment of their past. Now, I know what you were thinking when you told me that. Please, don’t go back to drinking and drugs. It may feel good right now, but it’ll hurt a lot more later. Don’t do it just to forget, because it’ll all come back later anyway. Do you even care? About anything? About me? Would it have mattered if we met or not, because I’m starting to think I was just a little part of your life that was supposed to make you see hope and the bright side of things? But I guess I didn’t do a very good job, because it seems to me that everything is crashing down again. It is on my side. I hope you’re faring better than I am.
With love,
me.

Are you that angry and frustrated at me that you won’t speak to me? It’s been nine days. You must be doing okay then, because you don’t need me to rant to anymore. You talk to me as if you were alone in this world. I know you have people to talk to and friends to hang out with. I know you aren’t alone, physically at least. But mentally, I don’t know. You told me that you’ve told other people about your problems. And I fit into that group of other people. I didn’t do anything extraordinary to you or your life. I didn’t make a difference. I couldn’t make a difference, even if I wanted to.

Dear you,
I feel like shit. Ever since we stopped talking after that one crappy day, it’s been a line of days ranging from horrible to just plain shitty. It’s like nothing can make me smile these days. Not even when we won the game against the League Champions. Even that didn’t make me smile, for real, at least. Of course I put on fake smiles. Only you know that there’s something wrong with me. Are you afraid that I’d tell your secrets? Because I keep my promises, no matter how bad the relationship between me and the person are. I feel that these letters are pointless. I don’t think you’ll ever get them, and I’ll probably throw them away eventually. So what’s the point? I wish I could tell you this, but I just don’t have the time or energy to run to your school after mine ends. And I don’t know where you live, so I can’t just show up spontaneously. What happened to us? Why can’t we just go back to when we were such good friends? You know you can make me smile, with your cute comments and flirtatious attitude. I don’t think I’m as good as acting as you are. I never thought you were so broken inside. I have bad days, where I can’t tell if I’m acting or not, but no one has questioned me. Maybe we are good actors. How can someone look so complete on the outside even when they’re completely breaking down?
With love,
me.

It’s been two weeks, fourteen days. Today, I found out that you were gone. I’ve been just staring aimlessly into the distance the entire day. But I found out that you were in a car accident. The slippery roads caused it, and that stupid driver who was going 65 mph in a school zone. So what am I supposed to do now? You’re gone. At first, when I heard you were gone, I thought it was my fault because maybe I caused it. I thought that I could’ve made a difference but I ended up making it worse. It makes me feel a little better, knowing I wasn’t the cause, but the fact that you’re gone hurts ten times worse. Then I came home and found a letter in the mailbox addressed to me, with no return address. I opened it, and it turns out it was from you.

Dear Kaylie,
We haven’t spoken in so long. I know you think this is your fault, but I promise it’s not. It’s mine. You’ve given me so much to think about, and you’ve given me hope. That’s a big one. I guess, before we started talking, we kind of knew each other because of our mutual friends, but we didn’t really know each other. Then we started talking, and I loved it so much, because you made it so easy for me to smile. I loved how you would just listen to me rant about depressing things, even though I knew you didn’t like it. You understood me.

Today is the thirteenth day we haven’t talked, I believe. And I know you love this number, for God knows what reason why. So I figured that I’ve thought enough and that we should just hang out some time. The last time we hung out, I had so much fun, more fun than I’ve had with my friends that I’ve known for years. You’re like the light I’ve been waiting for in this darkness. Does that sound cheesy to you? Because it does to me… oh well.

Anyway, I’m so sorry about making you worry, if I did. And thank you. Thank you for being here for me all this time. I still have those thoughts, but I figured that if you’re here with me, why should I worry about anything bad happening? I have a present for you. I was thinking about giving it to you when we see each other next time, but since you have finals soon, I think that it’ll be too long. So it’s in the bottom of this envelope. I had it personalized for you, because I thought it would make it more special. See you soon!

With love,
Tyler.

And at the bottom I found a spinner ring on a long necklace chain. The ring said “Faith, Hope, Love” on the spinner part and on the inside, you wrote such a simple message that made me break.

Thanks for life, Kaylie. I love you.