Newfangled

Beyond The Pallid Dreams

Storyboard
Merciful
Time of Illusion
The Animist
Rebellion Retaliation Fantasy
Lover (Beautiful Evil)

Merciful
They asked her to point at their side, six in total, four underage. A woman carrying a four year old girl,
a man with arms wide trying to reach all three of his sons. They looked at her scared, a kind of fear
that she couldnt bear to face, but she had no other choice. The woman in the beige uniform, next to
her, steadied the gun in her fingers. Her palm was burning as if the metal was on fire. Her brain
begged her to unfold it, to let the machine drop on the floor. She could almost hear it, she could
almost feel relief, but she knew she couldnt allow herself a cowardice moment, the following
moments would only cause more suffering to her family; before her.
Her jaw was hard as the finger flexed itself in position. They would either fall from her bullets or be
executed or humiliated and sold by someone else. She decided this was the best she could do for
them. She allowed her mind to only wonder for a moment. Why did these people sacrifice innocents
like this? How? How can you smile to the view of a small child crying their way to death?
The gun in her hand was a test. They were testing her nerves and cruelty. How far she could go and
how obedient she would be, in the same moment they asked her to kill not only her bloodline but
herself. To bury her bonds and memories, to reset her life so far and transform her into something
new. A careless merciless person filled with repulsion and no manners.
She looked at her brothers, asking herself why any of them were not in her place. Would they act like
she? Would they resist? Would they try to fight back? She hoped they would because the alternative
made her nauseous.
In her mother she saw her own eyes, the pair of frozen gold that used to treat her with love and only
show affection. With her father, she noticed her nose, the right size on his face, but too big in hers.
She always hated it, and now that the tears were fighting their way up, it was burning. Then, it was her
brothers. She heard her screams in their screams and her begin theirs. She saw the hope in her older
brother when she shot her sister instead of him and a moment later, he was gone too.
Before she could regret it, before she could feel the fear rising or the intense sorrow reaching her, she
turned to her enemys side and dragged the gun to her own head.
Almost immediately a soldier pointed his at her side. How ironic, she thought to herself, a gun
pointing a gun.
She said You dont own me, and pulled the trigger.
by Sugarish

Time of Illusion
Before we begin I would like to make sure you know a couple of basic things about me; One, I become
judgmental, very easily, often without realizing and second, I dont always make sense.
If I learned anything about humans all this time I count on earth is that, no matter if willingly or by
accident, they all fall into the same sin. Is that sin great? I do not know, but, what I am aware of is that
sometimes it is the only way to survive while others; the main reason why you dont.
Ive been meaning to do this a long time now, not for your entertainment but for my own salvation. I
am not a good person or a bad one, its not the actions, the feelings and thoughts over the actions. Im
not a monster, but Im definitely not a saint.
People are capable of anything under incurred circumstances, they can literally eat one another if
necessary. What stops them? I am guessing there are two factors: the societys standards and made
up laws. Why laws isnt the main reason? Because, as history has proved itself, in a time that
cannibalism wasnt prohibited in any ways, humans naturally cooked their own species. Now, add that
to what Germany has achieved through the years.
Well, better eating them than making them soaps dont you agree? And even if you disagree with the
argument holds the same essence.

At this point, I would like to clarify that I have no hate towards any nation and Im only trying to joke.
If its a bad attempt, pardon me for my naivety.
As we go on, you should know I truly believe there is always some bright spot in the darkness and vice
versa. Using Germany as an example again, if you run through history you will find out just how strong
a country it is. It has an incredible speed of development and hardworking citizens, practical and
smart.
I feel like Im losing my point again and Im afraid Ill bore you soon. I might not need your attention,
but I desire your interest. I want you to go on, read everything I have to say and understand because I
truly have no other way to explain but my humble thoughts written on paper.
Time passes fast, people think they are like flowers, alive until someone cuts them down, but the truth
is their life begins right when they get cut off. So little time, but infinite possibilities, yet everyone
wishes pretty much the same amount of things. I know this first hand, hardly ever anyone has asked
for anything more than things already been done, already been requested. Only a few, and Im not
sure if I should love or hate them for that.
I learned to ignore the cold and manage the heat, the weather was never something to bother me.
Not after a certain time at least. At first because I was too busy being so fascinated over everything
around me and later because I lived so much in my head that nothing from the outside could touch
me.
Alicia once told me I was cursed with a blessing and that is not far from the truth. We were sitting on a
bench, somewhere in a park in Rotterdam, not a fantastic one but the actual city. She had jellies in her
hands and chewed them from time to time as we talked without facing each other. There were no
other people in a periphery of two miles and maple trees were stripped naked from their leaves in the
late days of October. She wanted a tulip, she loved them so much, mostly because they reminded her
of her brother. I could not answer negatively because even if she knew I was technically her genie, she
always asked me in a very friendly sweet way. She was not a narcissist like the majority of the people
that were given the chance to try a little of my power which I am glad for.
The tulip was a little seed in my mind, trying to escape its cage, seeking for the sun with its hard
personal struggles, getting bigger and bigger, longer and wider, booming with greenery. It went up,
against the gravity that kept it down and it was soon there, a dark red tulip right next to Alicias feet.
She went on her knees to touch it, with no intention to cut it.
Thank you, she whispered.
I watched her as she admired my little creation. Thats when she said it. I said nothing in return but I
kept the thought with me and every time I thought of it, shed come into my mind, breaking the walls
and rushing tons of memories I shared with her, shaking hands with each person I crossed in my entire
life. Like a river during the rainy season my mind would overflow and drown me in and wash me up
until I had no power left to fight it.
It was a day like that, I first met Alicia. My mind is a living hell, but when my memories kick into my
consciousness the results they might cause scare me. That night I was in no mood to deal with that. I
grabbed my jacket and left my apartment, only later I remembered I forgot to take my keys with me
but did that matter? Of course it didnt.
I walked down the road to a nearby pub. The sun was going down and the horizon looked like a
fighting scene, A canvas filled with red, orange and blue mixed with white; celestial beauty.
Its like the sky is trying so hard to win the audiences attention just a little before the end, a grand
finale. Spectacularly mesmeric!
I opened the door and a small bell rang, announcing everyone that a new person was entering. I

looked around quickly before deciding where to sit. A big companion on my right, next to the window
and a few others playing pool in the back.
Quickly I jumped on a chair next to the bar, ordered and started to separate my realities. Women
laughing was happening here, a baby screaming was happening there. Once I managed to separate
them, everything got a lot easier.
A guy came in a little later, sat a few chairs away from me, but I was busy staring at the mirror that
was attached on the wall inside the bar. It covered it all and stopped just before the shelves with the
liquor bottles. From it, I could have an idea how this room looked like. It would take me sixteen steps
from a side to the other. The walls were painted crme and there were posters of older albums on
them.
She walked inside the pub a while later, and with heavy legs, she came and sat next to me on the bar
asking for the drink that would get her drunk the fastest. Her face was stained with the orange make
up, she didnt know how to apply, her eyes black from the mascara that was mixed with her tears.
I wouldnt have turned to speak with her if the perfume she was wearing didnt disgust me.
Miss, I said, but she looked more like a prostitute after a longer night than a miss.
Im really not in the mood for another idiot hitting on me, she said with attitude. Her voice was mad,
but with a sense of victory. The bartender and the guy next to me laughed. Which makes me wonder,
if attention isnt
What these girls expect when they dress this way, what is it?
Actually, if you interested me, I think cash would do the trick, I have begun and her jaw fell. Behind
me, the two men were making noises. But what I really wanted to ask is if you can move a chair or
two because you smell funny.
What was her answer? Did she slap me? Yell at me? Threw her drink on me? No. She just stood there,
looking. Her lips now shut and tears streaming down her face. And then, the most unexpected thing.
She extended her arms and rest them on my shoulders while rubbing her torso.
Here you have it, she said, backing off and wiping her tears with a napkin. Now we both smell
funny.
I guess thats right, I replied and returned to my previous position. I kept on drinking my whiskey
and read the labels of all the bottles that were sitting proudly on the shelf above the bars mirror. I
wasnt directly looking, but I could see how she was staring at me. There was a slight feeling of
excitement about her and I wished to maintain it.
She went away for some time and I was again lost in my head and had forgotten about her when her
voice landed in my ear breaking the silence of my image. Are you high? Her voice was calm.
I cocked my head, we were only a few inches away. Not on drugs. But I can stell you are.
Stell, you mean tell.
I mean still, I repeated and the word came clear out of my mouth. I can both tell and smell it on
you, I explained. Your stuff is really bad quality, by the way.
You could get me anything better?
I smiled. I could get you the best in the market.
Her eyes sparkled. Would you or are you just mocking me? I am serious but no, I wont get you
anything
Why not?
Wait, are you a cop?
NO, but it costs a lot and I doubt you can pay.
She leaned forward and spoke softly, whispering more than before I have money. I just want

something to last and be strong.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. Money is not what I need.
Then, what do you need? Her eyes were on my lips and I could see how hers were half open as if
this was a private moment and not byplay. Fun.
Oh, she said. She had removed the makeup and the mascara and brushed her hair while she had
been away, probably the washroom which made her look a lot younger. Was she old enough to get
drunk? You mean sex, she interrupted my thoughts.
Sex can be exceedingly pleasurable, but no, thats not what I want either. Then?
I smiled again, but didnt reply. I had another sip of my drink and began to read the labels again.
I think what you need is someone to love you, she said after what must have been two minutes
silence. That was her third drink.
Why do you think so?
There is no ring in your hand and we have both been here for at least half an hour and you havent
even looked back at the table with all those college girls, plus you stare at those bottles, but you keep
ordering scotch, its like, you want something different but you dont dare to ask for it.
I like the metaphor with the bottles, but your observations, all in all, has many voids. Firstly, being
with someone doesnt require a signed commitment or a piece of metal. If there is indeed someone,
why bother looking at someone else, and if I was, who says it would be love that Id be asking for?
Isnt it traditionally something simpler guys ask from girls they meet in bars? I took the glass in my
hands. Cheers.
But you dont care about that. Not a question, more of a result. Not so much.
And there isnt a person.
No.
I knew it, she said, but she was not happy to be right. I think nobody loves me either, she
continued. Im sorry, Im Alicia. How rude of me not to introduce myself. We shook hands and kept
on drinking.
Now, I suppose there are some things you should know about this girl and why shes here. Number
one doesnt make her special, her story isnt even interesting, to be fair. The only reason why her
name appears so soon is because her parents are a perfect example of sinners.
In Alicias house the atmosphere is always dry. It has been like this since her brother died when she
was fourteen and it didnt change much for the next fifteen years. Her mother, as many mothers do
when their kids die unexpectedly and in early age, hadnt touched his room. There was dust on the
desk, his shelves and a pair of trainers thrown under the bed. Even a dead plant closer to the window,
but no human hand ever touched them with the intention to tidy them up. Just the hope to breathe in
what was left from a young boy who was unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong
time. Her father was no better, He watched his wife sleep on his sons floor and sat with his back
against the wall, facing the open door, hoping for a miracle.
But who can really fight death? Nobody, not even me, and to be honest, I long for his arrival.
After my forth drink, I played and returned to leave, but I couldnt just abandon her there. I rubbed my
thumb and index finger inside my pocket and handed a bill enough to pay for all her drinks. Come on,
lets get you home, I told her, she silently followed.
If I hadnt, probably the bartender would and I didnt like the look on his face. Is it a fast judgment to
dismiss someone just by looking at their face? I do not mean based on their beauty, what Im referring
to is the expression written on their characteristics. I could not rest on his liability, there was
something mischievous about that look. Like a predator waiting inside his face. Then again, it could
have been just another effect of my imagination.
Alicia was so affable and docile to my orders that I was astonished. I called for a cab and sat her on a

bench, nearby from the pub. Dont take me home, she said.
Then where?
Just not home, she said. She looked down, and her foot was going back and front. I looked around
me, where could I take her? Then something lit inside my brain. Why was I even thinking about it? I
had to take her home. Or had I?
Alicia, is there anything that scares you, even the thought of it? I could give her a small gift, a
payback for making her cry.
Urn, many things, she said. I marched towards her and with a small movement of my hands, I shook
away the dizziness of her face like it was just her hair blocking the vision. She shivered at the foreign
touch and backed off shivering. Heights, Im afraid of heights.
A vehicle pulled over just behind us, the lights blinded her for a second.
She blinked and by the time she was on her feet, I had the door open for her. Lets do something
about that fear, shall we? Obediently she got into the taxi and a minute later the engine filled the
silence in our cabin, leading us to our destination.
by Sugarish

The Animist
I was 17 and she was about the same age. As the usual days I was walking on the streets, looking here
and there, watching around and looking for something special to gift her. I was confused and then I
saw a man with birds and rabbits. I thought that a pair of rabbits would be nice. I approached the man
and took a look at the birds. I could recognize the parrots, but the other species I couldnt. There were
those small birds; big as a table tennis ball, shining green-brown color, light-reddish tail and the
distinctly beautiful eyes. Those little birds were very active and restless, and the sound they produced
was very faint yet very pleasant, romantic and fictive.
I bought a small cage from the same man and a pair of those small antsy birds. I was very glad for
what I chose for her. I had a good idea about what she liked, well not that very good but still, I knew
she would like the birds. With the cage hanging on the finger I was walking through the crowd singing
The Doors; People are strange when youre a stranger faces look ugly when you are alone.
Few meters away, I saw her. She was looking towards me with that charming smile on her face. I
smiled back at her and she walked towards me. We shared the greetings by embracing each other. It
felt very good. She took the bird cage and said, So cute. Why have you brought this? Its for you, I
said. Then she looked at me and smiled. We went to a bakery, spent some time there and left. On the
way back, she insisted me to go to an open ground with her. I wanted to spend more time with her so
it was OK for me. We went to a ground named Tundikhel, which is located in the center of the city
area in Kathmandu, Nepal. There she asked me, Now, as you gifted these birds to me, do I have the
right to do whatever I want to with these little ones? I was confused and I said, Yes, of course.
Lets free these angels, she replied. I said to myself, Well dude, waste of money huh! And told her
that it was a great idea, though I didnt want her to do that. She held the cage and I opened the door
of the small cage. One of the bird got out and the other followed it and in no time they vanished into
the vastness of the sky. I was a little sad because I wanted her to keep them, but I didnt tell her. She
was very pleased for what we did and I really adored that, but still I was not so happy for spending my
money for nothing. We sat there for some more time and then we walked together up to the micro
bus stand and she left.
Alone again, I was walking back and thinking about what we did and meanwhile I saw a little
handicapped girl begging on the street. I walked passed her and after walking few meters I thought, A
little handicapped girl!!! How can I ignore? I went back to her, reached my wallet, took out Nepalese

Rupees 100 and gave it to her. She was very surprised. I gently tapped her head and smiled and
started to walk towards the crowd. After walking 10-15 meters I looked back to see her, but she was
not there. I continued my walk again. I dont know why, but I was very glad for what I did. I got into a
local bus; put my headphone played some music. I reached my stop, got off the bus paid the
conductor from my back pocket and walked. I stepped into a juice shop and asked for a glass of
sugarcane juice. I reached my bag and noticed that it was unzipped. I searched for my wallet, but it
was gone. It was not there in my bag. I checked my pockets, but couldnt find. I knew that I lost it. I
had something like NRs 3500 and in no time I was penniless for the moment. I became very sad and I
cancelled the juice and started to walk towards my home. I reached home, told my brother about the
wallet and settled the whole thing.
The same night; lying on the bed I was thinking about the whole day. I was like, Damn! How could I
lose my wallet? I should have kept the money separate in the pocket of my bag OR I should have kept
the wallet in my pocket. I was thinking this and that and then I thought about the little girl; May be
I should have given the money to that girl. At least I would have got some more blessing. Or I could
have bought more birds from the man and set them free. After thinking these things I was less
satisfied that I bought the birds rather than losing all the money for nothing. I went up to the terrace,
looked up towards the open sky and said in a low voice, Dear lord, dearest of lords; I never lost my
wallet before, neither did I give a 100 bucks to any beggar and I never spent my money to free any
bird or any animal. But today everything happened in a single day. Was it a lesson, my mother nature
and my father time? Right after freeing the birds; I was sad that I wasted my money on them and now
I feel like I should have spent all my money and freed them, or I should have given the money to the
little disabled angel. Do you want to tell me that value of satisfaction is much more than the value of
money? Do you want to tell me that when something good is done, then I shouldnt be worried about
the price I pay in terms of money, if I have some? OR, do you want me to realize that freeing the birds
was not a bad deal? After all, I lost the whole money and who knows that one day I would get even
more, but the good feelings which I achieved after lending the money to the girl or the good feelings
that my girlfriend got after releasing the birds cant be earned as easy as earning the money. I got my
answer and I was very glad for the lesson; was taught OR just a coincidence, whatever it was; I
understood the real meaning of something worthy and the level of satisfaction. For such little amount
of money, I learned something invaluable and something that would remain with me throughout my
life.
It has been almost 9 years since the incident yet it is very clear to me. Even today, when I walk on the
streets and see some caged birds I wish I had enough money to free them all. Whenever I see hungry
children, I wish I had enough money to feed them and teach them to earn and to stand on their own.
Whenever I see an injured child, I wish I had enough money to give him/her the medical care he/she
requires and every time something gets into my nerve and rush my adrenaline and I feel, Food is
all around, being wasted and I can see the food being dumped after making profit in terms of money;
yet these children are hungry. Space is all around for the animals and birds to roam free, yet they are
being caged for entertainment and aesthetic beauty, again paid in terms of money. Hospitals are
everywhere and the abundant medicines; yet they suffer the pain because they dont possess the
money. The money that can be printed by the power possessors; the money that can change the
desert into a paradise; the money that can convert a green land into lifeless war fields; the money that
can starve an animal to death; the money that can bring back an almost-dead person back to life but
the truth is: it is not the money that does it all, but it is the money that suppresses the real worth of
everything around us. Think it for yourself because everyone is not enough lucky to be taught by
some incident. We can dig out the resources or grow the resources, but we dont have the authority
to print the fake money to mobilize the resources.
by Partizan.

Rebellion Retaliation
Years ago, long before I become who I am today, I crossed paths with a man who had spent thirty
years of his life in jail, only to end up living in slums until death mercifully collected his soul. The man
often talked to me about his life and among other stories he told me how he lost his right leg during
his one and only escape attempt.
The penitentiary, as it was often called, playfully, by the authorities, was a large group of four
buildings. In the middle, the prisoners cells and showers linked to the next building which hosted the
cafeteria and the hospital, by a small hallway. The other structures surrounding the main one were
smaller. There, was the apothecary and the isolation rooms, in the store practically everything needed
was kept, apart from food, soap and ammunitions. And it was exactly that, why the office building was
separated from the rest. Almost in the corner of the northern side, stoned walls separated the facility
from the wildness. The warehouse, underground, with food, guns and cleaning supplies, away from
the prisoners eyes, making it harder for them to even think about starting a rebellion, or find a way to
empower it. That specific edifice was parted in two pieces, on one side the office, the amphitheater
which was built to supposedly hold a place of special ceremonies, but its main use was as a cinema for
the staff and the opposite of it, the gym, the dorms and the bathrooms.
It was late December when one of the guards patted Rus back. It wasnt a friendly gesture. The man
stood still, not daring to even chew the bread in his mouth, fearing that the guard would hit him just
as he would swallow and make him choke. Ru watched him from the corner of his eyes, it was the
same one that threaded the rope on his leg only a few days ago and dragged him from one side of the
campus to the other- he still found blood stains on the sheets from his wounded back. The guard had
a rifle over his head and held it casually, sure nobody would hurt him there. He then ordered four of
the men, including my friend, to follow him. "I'll handle it myself, he reassured the others and wore
his rain coat before he beckoned the prisoners to move. The office building was fifty steps away from
the cafeteria, no big deal on a fine sunny day but it was not one of them.
It had been snowing for two whole weeks but from the last couple of days storms had turned it into
ice, making the ground slippery, if you didnt know where to step. The rain was falling heavily on their
uncovered heads, soaking them as soon as they were outside. They tried to run, but a couple of them
fell, the guard commanded them to be slow, another trip over and he would make them crawl the rest
of the way. Ru took a big breath and reached for another prisoners hand to regain his fellows balance
before it was too late. Hail, the size of nuts, dropping over their heads causing the same pain small
fireballs would. Halfway through the walk something heavy hit Rus back. He looked up in the sky and
screamed. His scratches were sore and still open; the pain could barely bend. With weak knees, he
almost fell down when he remembered what that would lead to, he cried out once more taking one
more step, only for a moment, he was thankful for the rain.
As the door opened, they were in shock while entering, the hallway looked little like the rest of the
prison. Almost as if the door led to a different world. The rooms theyd seen so far were dull, stripped
of any beauty, gray and dramatically lifeless, able to make even the happiest person suffocate. But
that place was different, caramel color walls, matching the chocolate wooden surfaces and the beige
curtains. Hanging from the walls, portraits of long gone and once important members of the society.
As they walked further they heard music and even saw bases with lilies.
Flowers, Ru thought to himself, I almost forgot they exist. He smiled shyly at their side as if they were
women instead of plants. He thanked the young man inside who, despite the pain he kept on feeling
was now the reason that he would sleep at night and dream. He hadnt dreamed for long, well, he
had. Just not the sort of dreams you want to recall. Mainly he replayed, unwillingly, the torture he had
been through, the interrogation, three hours before he was trapped and arrested as a traitor to his
country and above all, his daughters death.
Sia was not Rus real daughter, she was his sisters only child, but when Vale died, she begged him to

take care of her. Sias father lost his life three months before she was born. Three months he
witnessed, his older sister nerve wracking to kill the fetus by punching her belly and starving herself.
Astoundingly the baby fought it all, Even the poison mother consumed, she was a fighter, a survivor;
deserved to live, wanted to.
Gasping for breath as they made it to their destination, thought of Sia volitionally accompanied him as
he kneeled and mopped the floor.
He put her to sleep, fed her, changed her, taught her how to walk and speak and for each new skill, he
felt proud; a kind of happiness that is unexplainable, bestowing in the upbringing of another life, he
never felt more majestic or honored. She was growing into a wonderful young woman.
Maybe, he said with tears in his eyes. Maybe if I stayed with her that night I would have helped her
hide, maybe she could have made it. The pain was flowing from his spine to his brain, from bones to
the blood and back again.
Back in the bathroom though he only thought of the good parts. Of how she liked to run by the pond
closest to their house with bare feet and threw water at her father as soon as he marched to her side
to bring her shoes. When they cooked meal and sat outside, looking down at the people who would
pass and talk about the future. They always had something important to discuss and when the war
fired the conversations became whispers as the country came under a dictatorship: combing her hair
in a long single braid told her stories about heroes and brave young ladies. He remembered how she
cried when he announced her they would have to follow separate ways or she would soon end up
dead. It was the first day he realized how much she loved him and he regretted that day He shouldnt
know. She should have kept it inside so he would never have to see her die. So she could live as she
had to.
The guard, with his back on the wall, was reading a book, but the men were better than that to
assume he was really distracted. He only pretended to be, hoping for a sigh of attack that would allow
him to rightfully shoot their guts and watch them bleed to death. It was a common tactic that none of
the official seemed to be bothered with. If a guard shoots you he must have had his reasons. Almost
as a game he waited for his prey, anticipating for a small odd movement, anything.
Its sad to think of how life can turn you into a careless creature that longs for violence, or perhaps
there is already some cruelty lurking in the genes making us susceptible.
As the time was passing and none of the men were in any mood to play along, the guard turned his
attention to his old favorite little Ru, a hectic looking short man with an already gray beard, even
though he was only in his late thirties and had a humble look. He was quiet and it was impossible for
him to fight back. His anorexic body had no muscles. All his life he fought back with words, but the
words, there had no meaning, unless you are the one holding a gun.
He aimed the rifle on the back of his head, tempted to trigger it off, as the kneeled prisoner stopped
any kind of movement and turned into a statue, the guard smiled viciously and lowered his face and
brought his mouth close to his ear.
Hows that back of yours, he asked. Ru remembered of the snakes that used to live near the pond
and how they would slide in holes and wait for the game. The guards voice was the same as those
incredibly big creature sounds. He didnt wait for Ru to answer, stepped on him and forced his
stomach to touch the floor. He screamed, begging for mercy, but of course none granted.
Thats when it happened, one of the other men pretending to clean a sink when he attacked the guard
from behind, breaking one of those wooden brushes on his head. Another one grabbed his hands
away from him and the third took away the gun. The pain in his spine rose, needling him again and
again with every breath he took, only the intense anger made him stand.
The adrenaline rushed inside him like his world had been poisoned, he threw himself against him and

grabbed his hair, smashing it against the floor, over and over until he heard a crack coming from the
skull and eyes lost any sight of life.
He swallowed hard and stepped back, his pain was becoming unbearable again as the adrenaline was
drifting away. Sweat and heat, covered him from head to toe, He tried to breathe, but his lungs could
not hold on the oxygen and slowly he was no longer himself. His mind was far away, back at his old
house where the snakes lived, feeling he was someone else. He could not be the man responsible for a
death; a murderer.
For the first time he looked at the guard as what he really was. A young man who could have a wife or
a girlfriend. Someone who his mother would have to bear missing every day and living a life filled with
emptiness. He thought of himself and how he had become what he so dreaded. The men next to him
were forming an escape plan. There was no way they could go back now or they would be executed
and it would be better to go down knowing that they at least tried.
He couldnt follow the talk. He was occupied, turning his eyes away and back to the guys face looking
for a sparkle of life. Hoping this was nothing but a trick. The taste of blood reached his throat and he
wanted to desperately leave, Leave the room, that place abandoning the body.
One of the prisoners dragged him by the hem of his shirt to a window that led to the wall. They were
running out of time and couldnt risk leaving Ru behind.
He never realized how he climbed up the wall, He was numb like he was slowly shutting down, like he
was packing up knowing it was time to say his good-byes to the world. He had no will to fight, no
reason to escape. They had taken everything from him.
They took Sia, stole his freedom of speech. Like professional thieves, they took away his rights and
now he had lost himself.
Four men on top of a wall, ready to jump, was not something that could go unnoticed. Certainly not,
then that the storm had passed, but if they could make it, they would be free to get lost in the jungle
and pass the border to freedom. He looked down, at the seven meters that were separating him from
being truly alive and an almost certain death.
The first to go down was the man holding the rifle, but not willingly. He fell down from the guards
bullets. Three of them all to his stomach. He guessed nobody would want to be shot at.
He saw him falling down, landing on the ground like a sack of potatoes, body parts breaking like a
Chinese porcelain doll. Only, very ironically, he had fallen on the wrong side of the wall. In fact, the
other two had too. It was only him now, benefitting by the distance and his rather skinny body that
made him a difficult target.
Ru looked at the ground trembling, He couldnt do it, couldnt make it. But either he couldnt turn
himself in, with the fear of more pain. He would feel it soon anyway. One way or the other, he would
die. They would hit him if he stayed Like the man, the first day he was there, they gathered the entire
prison to watch as they burned the prisoner with hot oil and finishing him by making him drink acid
that quickly burned the inside body parts, but not quickly enough that his screams didnt haunt
everyones dreams forever.
He took a deep breath and thought of Sia, how peaceful she stood waiting to be executed next to a
handful of other children, who were either crying asking for their mothers or clueless about what was
happening, all family members of rebellions, Seeds of evil that had to be destroyed, had heard a
general say.
The next bullet found the end of his ear and knowing the next would find his skull he took a deep
breath and jumped.
by Sugarish.

Fantasy Lover (Beautiful Evil)

There he saw the beautiful girl standing amongst the crowd. He thought to himself, So beautiful is
the creation of the dear god. He created the vast universe, the amazing galaxies, well placed solar
system, the blessed earth, unexplained life, self-progressing humans, heart touching emotions, the
beautiful nature and its beautiful creations, and there she is, the sweet looking person. He went to
her and talked to her and realized that she was not just pretty, but she was very friendly as well. He
again talked to himself, Wow, Such adorable person, yet no arrogance.
He kept on talking to her, and her peaceful attitude gradually engulfed him and ringed him with the
feelings of trust and affection. He once again said to his heart, How lucky you are, for you found such
precious pearl in such vast ocean of fake personalities and attitudes! How lucky you are, for you found
such lovely person with such modern looks and the classic thoughts of purity and real reflection.
When you have a good soul then every good looking thing or being looks like the reflection of
affection. This is the problem of this lover. He finds beauty everywhere, and every time there is a clash
between his mind and his heart. His mind always tries to follow the natural instinct of being a man in
search of physical love and the momentary pleasure till the ejaculation. Whereas his heart is in search
of a beautiful soul trapped inside the physical entity of a beautiful looking girl, with whom every
moment would be full of pleasure, even if there are no physical bodies in action. His beautiful soul
whispers the beautiful words of love and faith whenever his heart is rinsed with pure, unselfish and
divine love of classic thoughts.
And there she is, with the beautiful bouquet of flowers in her hand,
Such tenderness in the smile, in front of which, no devil would dare to stand.
Her body, covered in the vivid blue colors with patches, as like the bright and glowing sky,
Along which the long dark hair has lined, as like the black clouds intending to fly.
I can look at your sweet face for days and nights without blinking my eyes,
I can walk million miles to reach you and stand on sun until my skin dries.
Your beautiful smile brings out the smile in me and subsides the pain,
Anyone can get lost into your eyes when you blink them again and again.
Long and dark hair, shining like black silk in the reflection of light,
Your pearl like teeth, which without the light can make the darkness glow bright.
Only god knows that the petal of rose like lips can never be missed,
I ask the almighty lord to fulfill few lines, which already have been wished.
Love will be the same till eternity even if she belongs to someone else,
Dont know what her mind speaks to her but she should listen to what her heart tells.
I feel pleasure from the bottom of my heart when I get to see you just for a while,
I can endure every pain and bleed myself to death just to make you smile.
The world of you, me, us and our love is right there behind the trustful door,
Once we make love together, Im sure that we both will desire for more.
I wish for the glorious days when Ill see your sweet face early morning in the light of the sun,
Our physical bodies would be different, but our love would merge our souls into one.
Your trust and love would make my night and my love would brighten your day,
And when we together make love, then there would emerge a romantic palace anyway.
I would never let you down, never let you be sad or let the tears drop from your eyes,
I will find you anywhere youll be and protect you even if the whole world cries.
I know that whatever Im saying sounds hypothetical and unreal, but you can trust me,
Already lend my heart to you and now its up to you. So dont say I, dont say you, lets make it
we.
Emotional fool and he never touched any girl in the school. Now his eyes search for beauties all
around and every beautiful face smashes him down to the ground. Firstly, he thinks of making one
beautiful night stay, and when he knows her in a better way, he does not want to betray. He is bold

and strong, brainy and grown, but his heart is very sad and therefore he is very alone. He was once
betrayed by a girl, devastating his beautiful thoughts and his fantasy world. His brain is now set up and
he always is in the mood of nailing every proud girl, no matter black, brown, white, short or tall. He
says to everybody, Ill enjoy them all. His mind and body enjoys looking at every exposed beautiful
evil one by one, and his soul feels sorry for each of them right after he is done. He says to himself,
What a shame; the beautiful females use their natural jewels to raise their name, and I feel even
more sorry every time when the female rights they claim.
The adult movies they play, polluting the minds of boys, men and all; igniting the foul desires and
obsession of the unsatisfied males, which cant be fulfilled by a doll.
Exposing the beautiful skin, the glamor and seducing attitude, the unstable youth and the false
gratitude; running after the money for which they easily go nude.
The mother, the sister, the model and the daughter, capable of binding the morals of the societies
and shutter, or trigger a war resulting in deaths and sometimes mass slaughter.
The females show their so called internal charm, inducing the release of testosterone of most of the
males; forcing them to harass other girls and finally end up in jails.
A male I am, and so is my behavior. They pollute my mind and I feel the same for the girls who are
near. The scream of the sisters I hear and all of a sudden Im indulged in fear.
The fear that one day every man shall be a devil, obsessed with worthless desires and thoughts like of
an evil. A corrupted mind yet covered by the fake outfit like a genuine civil.
by Partizan.

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