rain, rain, go away

rain, rain, go away–
(pretty white clouds she saw earlier were now changed to dark, stormy, nasty black clouds, blew by bad, bad, bad north-east wind.)


You limped, your gaze clouded by fog from nowhere.

One, two, three–stumbled.


 

come again some other day
(blue, blue bright, wonderful sky which used to contain hopes, loves, dreams–)


 

What is it?

You blinked, trying so hard to focus your gaze to search what made you stumbled before–and lied on the earth by face.


little johnny wants to play
(–now it was empty.)


It turned out into a worn-out, dirty, and ragged white beach towel. Its color was like your fur’s–it used to be white, pure beautiful white. But due to world’s harshness, it changed into a dull one.

in the meadow by the hay
(there was no hope anymore but frustration and darkness.)

Such a pity.

You tried to smile, but what you managed to make was a grimace.


rain, rain, go to spain
(no smiles, no laughters, no happiness–)


To the world you were one of unlucky kittens which was abandoned by heartless people. To the world, you were such an useless animal, knew nothing except to mewl.

The world was harsh.

But you had to be strong, strong to live. Or else, you would die.

And you didn’t want it to happen. Not yet before you found your mother, people who threw you away… heartless people who separated you from your mother.

never show your face again
(but cries in agony and disappointment.)

You curled yourself in the worn-out towel. At least, you had a thing to warm yourself, which was enough for now.

Lifting up your face to see the gloomy sky, you saw that it understood your feelings, for it was raining now.

But for you, it looked like the sky pitying you for your fate.


rain, rain, pour down
(however, you had to know–)


You turned your face. None should be pitying for your fate. None even the sky. The sky supposed to be bright and contained happiness and hopes and loves.

A droplet of rains fell upon your dirty yet warm towel. You counted it; one, two, three, four…

Your once beautiful yet unusual violet eyes began to close slowly.

Will I die here?


but not a drop on our town
(–that after the rain–)


“Uwaaa~! Look at the poor kitten at there, Flee!”

“… you know that I don’t like kittens, so shut up.”

“Nyaaaah! Flee, you are such a cruel bastard!”

“Shut up.”

You blinked when you felt you were lifted up by a person.

“Should we bring it home?”

“No.”

Your violet eyes saw the person who lifted you up pouting when she heard the answer given by a person she called Flee earlier.

“Give it a bowl of warm soup?”

“Absolutely no.”

“Fleee!” She pouted and looked at you, blinking in curiosity when she saw the color of your eyes. “Say, Flee, do you know a kitten that has a pair of violet eyes?”

“… no?” Flee answered. “Why?”

“This kitten has!”


rain, rain, go away
(–there will be a rainbow.)


this is meant to be an angst story, i swear for the love of my teddy bear! but it turns into failure orz orz orz

anyways! sorry for awol for a few days xd

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let’s moving forward

Sometimes I wish I’d never born.

Althea laughed bitterly when thinking about this. Yes, I wonder what’ll the world do without me – nothing, maybe. Because I’m such a trash, she thought, kicking some pebbles – to satisfy her heart because the best thing to do without hurting your friends when you were at your limit was to shed your pique, vexation, exacerbation on unliving things. Yes, it was the best thing to do.

The last time she shed her angriness to a living things – to Astrild – resulted the friendship between her and Astrild cracked. Fortunately Astrild wasn’t egoistical – no, Althea was the egoistical one – and she saved their precious five-years friendship.

Now, Althea didn’t want such a silly reason to crack her friendship again – once was enough. She had learnt her lesson – never ever shed your bitter side of emotion on human. Newton’s Third Law stated that if there was an action, there’d be a reaction. Althea gave bad action, and the reaction was same.

She looked up at the sky. The night sky was always peaceful, never judged her; the moon and the stars were the best listener she’d ever got. They were quiet to let her talk until she couldn’t mutter a single word anymore, they were quiet when the tears rolled down to her face, dropped at the ground. Didn’t mutter any comment, just silence. Yet, Althea always thought it was the best thing, at least she had the moon and the stars to listen her.

However, she couldn’t deny that somewhere at the bottom of her heart, she wished that she could be heard by human, a person, not just the moon and the stars. Sometimes she’d get bored to talk and what she got was no response. She needed that. To rant about her life to a person, to cry, to let out all her emotion… and get at least a response. Even though what she’d got was everything’s gonna be okay, just keep patient.

Althea sighed out loudly. The moon wasn’t at the top of her head anymore, but it slowly but surely sink down at the horizon. The stars were getting invisible too. Part of her heart was screaming to the sun to just wait longer because i wasn’t ready to face the morning but another part was saying quietly that she needs another fresh new morning to start over her life again – to get the real happiness she’d always been dreaming of.

She pressed her lips together, to make a thin smile. A new fresh morning sounded like the best idea. Maybe that was what she needed. Letting go of the past and facing the future with a bright smile.

Because, you couldn’t dwell on past forever, right?


for this nice challenge.

signed with lots of love,
fleur // june 27th, 2014.

 

labyrinth of timberland, sort of

– complexion of white canvas collection –
{ labyrinth of timberland, sort of }


The moon shone at the best, its full circle adorned the cobalt sky, along with sowings of stars. Nevertheless, their lights couldn’t hide the mystical and enigmatic side of the night contained. Night animals – or we could say in here; beasts – howled, filling the silent yet tense night with their unique sounds.

Yet, it seemed that they couldn’t gain a single effect to a certain person.

“I don’t know why you all are wasting your time with dragging me here.” Fleur frowned, arms crossing in front of her chest. She clearly showed irritation to a group of people who brought her in a forest at the suburbs instead of a nice red building that she called as her own house.

“But, Fleur! You don’t afraid of ghosts, supernatural things, insects, even cockroaches!” Gabriella complained. She was a member of the group that brought – or in the victim’s word: dragged – Fleur here. Beside her, Gilbert – her twin – elbowed his sister’s rather painfully, mouthing something like ‘don’t tell her!’.

They both received an eerie glare from Fleur.

“You hauled me from Grace’s party, claiming to bring me home but in fact you two had a ‘plan’,” she made quotation marks with her index and middle finger, “and brought me here to know my fears.”

Gilbert saw no chance to tell a lie, so he sighed heavily then nodded. “More or less like that,” he answered, while hoping that Fleur could drop her mortifying glare just now because he began to sweat in fear. Gabriella looked like she saw a monster right now – because Fleur in scary mode wasn’t the best thing to be seen in a creepy forest.

Five seconds – seemed like a century for the twins – later, Fleur rolled her eyes and lowered the frequency of her glare. She strolled past two of them, stopped about five steps from them. With the mysterious tone, she said to Gilbert and Gabriella. “The annular eclipse – I hate the most hence its shine hurt oculus. Gravity called and then it closed not by its own will, but as the punishment. I shall not dwell in dreams but face the reality, the world where gravity exists and everything has its own formula. This is all I can tell thee.”

The twins turned around instantly. Even though Fleur couldn’t see them, she could swear that they eyed her with bewilderment. “Good luck with that.” She finally whispered quite loud to be heard by them, and left.


i’m more straight-forward but, yeah. forgive me for making such a senseless riddle – but i assure you, it has meanings. i tried to make it in old english, however i’m suck. i became lazy to do it near the end so, i just changed ‘you’ to ‘thee’.

dear me,

from book Sherlock, Lupin, and I : Mystery of Red Rose. in indonesian verse, the first word in page 29 is “luar” (from “luar biasa” = incredible), since i had to write in english, so incredible, that is.


Dear me, (look, I’m writing a letter to myself!)

You are incredible. Stop looking down yourself. You hear me? You are created wonderfully by Lord, you are His beloved child. You have talents, dear. But you haven’t found them. So, stop saying to yourself that you aren’t worthy and useless. Stop that.

You are incredible, marvelous, and fabulous.

No person is created same like the other one, right? Even twins aren’t same each other–not from physique, but mental. Do you understand? I don’t want you moaning and moping about your life now.

Sincerely,
Your other self.

 

bittersweet

written for writing 101, day nine challenge: changing moccasins — point of view. this is meant to be innuendo story, but i don’t know why it turns out into a sappy, drama one. alright, blame me for write this at midnight. /yawns/


He was done. Utterly, completely, absolutely, done. He couldn’t—obviously was never able to hold her and walking in a quiet but lovely park. After what he had done, he never imagined to still be loved by the woman he loved the most. The woman who still laid her heart to him, even though she had heard that he committed a crime. Committed a freaking crime. Who in hell still wanted to be with a bastard man who had done such a heartless, merciless, sinful activity? It hadn’t been over. She had to wait for ten freaking years. Normal woman would ended her relationship with that man. Obviously. Yet, here he was. Walking, or exactly, shuffling with the person he had been dating for approximately five years.

They passed an old woman, sitting on one of park benches. Her curly white hair was arranged neatly, despite it was so thin. Was she stressing about someone—daughter-in-law, her children, her grandchildren, her family?

His attention from the old woman’s hair was caught by rolls of red yarn. Red, too much red—blood, the rope that would have been used for his execution but because of God’s mercy he ended not to be executed but imprisoned for years—ten freakingly fucking years. Still, why?


She was enjoying the content sensasion she got by just holding the hand of the man she loved, when he suddenly broke into tears—crying quietly. His eyes were full of sorrow—and it made her heart ached by just seeing it. Tears rolled on his face, glistened caused by the light of the sunset. She had no idea what he thought till he cried. But she knew it had to be something that hurt him so damn deeply. He didn’t cry easily, though.

She reached her handkerchief and wiped the tears away gently. “What did you think earlier?” She asked softly, as he was going to hurt if she asked any louder.

What she got as an answer was a quite not-assuring shake of the head. “Nothing.” He said, reaching for her hand that held the handkerchief she used earlier to wipe her lover’s tears. “Just, how lucky I am to have you.”

Instantly, she blushed and looked away, trying not to show the deep red color on her face. And it made him laugh, despite of redrimmed.


She huffed. Really, young men nowadays, were really such a crybaby. This marked her tenth time to see a man broke down in tears when saw her knitting. What was wrong with her knitting anyways? She was here just to knit a nice red sweater for her grandchildren who would come next week. Was her red yarn frightened them? Or they started to hallucinate or imagine about those kinds that couples nowadays were always talking about—what was it? Red string of hate or fate? Oh. Whatever.

Like hell she would care anything about it.


because everyone needs a good amount of humour at the end of sappy scene! but really, this is the sappiest thing i had ever written. damn. not to forget those unholy vocabularies i used. well, excuse me— /runs for dear life from angry people/