The Failed Romance Story

Heeey people who read my stuff! Sorry I haven't written in a while...but I hope this kinda somewhat makes up for it. - from future author

“ ‘Hey, you love me right?” She asked burrowing her head onto her boyfriend’s shoulder half paying attention to the television that showed two shows at the same time so they wouldn’t bicker about who gets to watch and who has to miss his/her show. The boyfriend looked briefly down at his purring girlfriend and smirked.

‘Nope. Not at all,’ he said kicking his feet up onto the coffee table shaking their ‘his and her’ mugs and resting his arms on the back of his head. She shot her head up and frowned.

‘What do you mean? What the hell do you mean?’ She demanded; she started to blink ferociously.

‘I’m sorry but love? Seriously?’ He asked tilting his head then crossing his arms looking very amused.

‘You know what? Just forget it!’ She swished her whole body around so that she would face the arm of the couch and scooted herself to the other half of the couch.

‘Love is too weak of a word. I’m completely obsessed. I’m done for because I’ve been done.’ She turned around to get a better look at him. ‘You’ve ruined me; absolutely ruined me. Again I apologize, but no I don’t love you. You broke me too much for me to say that. No, it’s not love because it’s something more compelling, more unattainable, more inevitable, more seductive, more… more everything. Look, I can’t just simply say I love you to confirm with you because you feel insecure about what I’m thinking whenever I’m around you.’ She starts to look at him incredulously; her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ the size of a quarter. He laughed at her incredible face and playfully tapped her nose. Then said, “Because I have to say something better than ‘I Love You’ so that you never ever ever doubt me again and also I know that you need… wait no deserve much better than something I can say and have said to anyone.’

‘That was quite a speech. No seriously, I’ll clap to that mister. Really poetic!’ She jokingly said as she lauded him. He glared at her sarcasm.

‘But you made one mistake.’ She informed him.

‘Oh yeah? What was that?’

‘How on earth could you think?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You said ‘I can’t simply say I love you or confirm with you because you feel insecure about what I’m thinking whenever I’m around you’ And so ask, how on earth, Mister, can you even have one lucid thought if you’re around such an amazing astoundingly beautiful woman such as me?’

‘Oh yeah. I forgot about that line!’ He half smiled and raised an eyebrow. She giggled and shadowed his lopsided grin. Teasingly, he pushed her head back on to the couch with his knuckles. She let out a bit of a girlish squeal as he tickled and wrestled her. He holds her chin with thumb and index finger.

‘Geez, and here I was trying to be romantic.’ He sighed pitifully. He took a glimpse down at her and she took a peek at him, but those stares ended up being much longer than they expected. Then the magic of infatuation overwhelms them; their pupils start dilating, their pulses quicken, their breathing becomes abnormal, their tongues become tied, their heads are cleared losing their train of thought and sense of time, their stomach starts to be rampaged by a parade of butterflies. His eyes were on hers and hers were on his. Their gazes towards each other would make anyone want to either blush and look away or yell ‘Get a room!’.

‘You know there was an easy yet infallible way to be romantic?’ She said wondrously as if she were surprised she was able to speak at all.

‘Really? And how could that be done?’ He said brusquely.

‘Like this,’ She declared as she leaned in closer towards him. Her eyes narrowed down onto his lips and he couldn’t help but look at hers that were lusciously glossed and smelled of a field strawberries. He readied himself for their contact by closing his eyes and bending down, when all of a sudden she left the couch and headed out of the room to the kitchen. Disappointed, he was about to protest, until she brought back a box.

‘Share with me?’ She asked as she opened the box and brought out a container of heart shaped cookies that were half colored red and half colored white.  He smiled warmly at her.

‘The best kind of love declaration there is,’ He stated breaking a cookie straight down the middle. He handed half of the cookie to her and ‘clinked’ their cookies as they would with glasses of champagne. They ate and chuckled till the very end.”

“So what do you think?” The nervous author asks as the agitated director looks up from the paper.

“What do I think? WHAT DO I THINK ABOUT THIS PIECE OF USELESS GARBAGE?” The director decries as he slams the paper down onto his desk. The author grimaces as the director’s spittle landed on her arm.

“Do you think you’re writing a freaking soap opera or some Korean drama or something? No! You’re supposed to write a scenario and magazine special to advertise the company’s new couple line that includes a dual splitting television screen, specialty mugs, a couple couch, and their romance deserts!”

“Which I included,” the author protests.

“You did it in the most cliché and unfashionable way possible! Rewrite it and bring it back to me by 5 a.m. tomorrow. It better be good or else you’ll be cut from this job. Get to work and out of my face!” The director sat up from his chair and swished out of the author’s office. The author dejectedly opens her Mac laptop, deletes the failed work, and begins to rethink her ideas. 

My Real-Life Superhero

           Normally, people would think that she should wear some kind of white dressing gown with a huge cross symbol on it and she would be standing behind an enormous wooden podium while droning on and on about scriptures in the bible. However, of course, she wasn’t like that. She came in with jeans, a regular t-shirt, and an excited smile. “Okay, children! Are you ready for this?” she yelled with her hands flying in the air. We, children, were astounded by her entrance. At first it was a little awkward when she began talking unsteadily because she was pretty nervous; however, even the teachers and children were all shaking in their boots. The teachers wondered, “Will she be a good enough pastor? She’s so young.” The children wondered, “Is she going to be boring? Will she be mean? This is the worst case, but is she going to be crazy?” As she went along, she got used to the flow and led us to follow the current. After that, she smiled even wider and it really looked like she had fun speaking to us up there.
          I think, right then and there, I developed a liking towards her. She didn’t talk about things we kids didn’t care about. She knew that children understood more and that adults underestimated us, so she didn’t teach us the baby stuff. She talked about living life; she gave sermons about being innocent and free. Most of all, it was her smile that caught me captive. She was just emitting so much light and glee that I felt it and began grinning along with her; it was too contagious. Even though there were many sad and stressing problems that she had, she never stopped smiling and she always tried her best to make other people happy along with her.

Ms. Jennifer Kim (Jendo) is this very tiny and petite Asian woman. She doesn’t have large muscles or is very tall, but she is a very strong hero. Whether it’s when she’s herding a pack of church children to the cafeteria, distributing food to the homeless, hugging the orphans, giving a piece of her heart to the prostitutes in India, singing and dancing along with the Africans, making bread for the starving North Koreans, washing and praying over somebody’s feet, or just sharing her very touching and personal life story, she shows signs of being an amazing person and role model; she looks as though the definition of strength has nothing to do with physical appearances and the word ‘weak’ was a long forgotten word.  She taught me that everybody, even someone small and unsignificant like me, can make a difference for what they have a heart for. 

She is Beautiful

“She is beautiful,” I thought as I fixed her hair tie because sometimes they don’t like it when the girls’ hair is messy. The man checked her measurements and asked about her health. I assured him she was young and spirited. He liked that. He looked at her with satisfaction. I liked that. I was so happy when I found out about her. “This is a blessing for our family.” My husband said. He was proud of me. I was proud of myself. My daughter held my hand and smiled as wide as Kool-aid Man. She was happy. She received a lot of attention today because today was special. She wore makeup. She wore ‘grown-up’ clothes that her father spent a lot of money on, but it was okay because she would be able to pay for it back. She felt special. I handed her hand over to the man. He handed me the payment. I waved goodbye to her. “She really is beautiful,” I thought to myself again. 

Some Things that only the Closest Person to you Does

Some things that only the closest person to you does-

1.    You’d always pray on your knees that you would be put into the same class as that person

2.    Your teacher would put you and that person on opposite sides of the class because you and that person wouldn’t stop talking

3.    You and that person got sent to the principal’s office because you guys did something really stupid like walk in the hallways during lunch when you weren’t supposed to and talk really loudly in the hallways right in front of the principal

4.     You have slept on the same bed with that person for at least ten times

5.     That person writes the longest comment on your wall for your birthday

6.     That person comments on every single thing you post on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc

7.     That person would spam almost everything you have (including omelets)

8.     You and that person have your own inside jokes that would take at least the same amount of time it would take for a person’s yell to heat up a cup of coffee (which is eight years, seven months, and six days)

9.      That person could walk into the bathroom, even though you’re either on the toilet or in the shower, and can still brush his/her teeth nonchalantly and you wouldn’t care at all.

10.  That person would be the first person you’d text message if your mom got into car accident either because of old women who can’t drive for their life and should be put in a retirement home, or someone who hated your mom and put a firecracker in her car.

11.  You can call that person at any time of the day, even though it could mean waking them up at 4:00 in the morning for something as stupid as asking them if they were sleeping okay or just saying that you were bored and needed someone to talk to.

12.  You can ask or that person can ask you for incredibly awkward embarrassing favors and you or that person wouldn’t even blink an eye and say, “Sure, whatever.”

13.  Conversations you have with this person are ones you can never have with another person (even if that person copied everything in his/her brain, downloaded it onto a chip, and implanted that chip in another person, so that everything that person ever thought, heard, saw, or said is in another person’s brain)

14.  You can koala bear hug this person and no one would find it strange (unless you koala bear hug everyone because then you are strange)

15.  That person would be your first victim for April Fool’s Day and you would be their first

16.  The only reason why that person wouldn’t be around you is if that person either got hit by a bus or was sent to the moon by mind controlling aliens and or by geeky NASA scientists who couldn’t get anyone else to go.

Introduce Yourself

J. J. is a stellar slut selling stuff solidly. She is the answer to world peace. She is the reason why spaghetti falls off of forks. She was close to becoming Mo jo jo jo from the “Power Puff Girls”. Her favorite fruit are ostrich eggs. She cries silently into her pillow when she sees the sun come out of hiding. When she was younger she put her finger an electric socket. She died the next day because she stupidly put her finger in an electric socket. She revived from the dead, although the dumbass put her finger in an electric socket. She doesn’t know why she keeps on saying that she put her finger in an electric socket. She didn’t actually write this bio because she sucks at writing… To sum it all up, J is a girl that likes to write, to have fun, and occasionally lie to her readers.

Silver With Envy

The day was dull until the door shot open. She ran towards me. She sat down. Took a breath. Told me she had big news to tell. I looked at the family photo behind her. Two proud parents. But they weren’t looking at me. She came first. I glanced back at her. Because if I didn’t, she’d whine. She wore an ebony black sweatshirt that day, and a bright white smile. I nodded. She launched. Her arms were not hanging, limp, lifeless at her sides. Nor crossed across her chest like mine. But active and expressive as she explained what had happened today. Her fingers squirmed. Wriggling like the live octopus legs I one time had at a sushi restaurant. They acted as though by moving as much as possible would somehow save them from being eaten. Her legs swung, back and forth. The same tempo as this annoying metronome I used for one clarinet lesson. I smiled slightly. She showcased a piece of paper that represented her achievement. Her ‘great’ feat was silver. I scoffed. Her silver couldn’t afford my praises. Not gold? I asked. I thought just because you tie a pretty ribbon on trash doesn’t make it special. Just because there were words like ‘NASA’ and ‘national competition’ doesn’t mean you’re some kind of genius. Just because mom and dad looks only at you doesn’t mean you’re gold. And I’m silver. She wore an ebony black sweatshirt that day, and an ebony black frown to match.

Ode to Red Velvet Cupcakes

Glance at it

Want it

You know you shouldn’t have it

So turn away

Yet look again

It’s as pretty as a blushing bride

Dressed in white

Something borrowed

Something new

Something old

Something of red hue

Grab it

Pop it

Won’t taste red

Would taste chocolate

Venture further

Light and airy

Almost like bubbles

It crumbles
Onto the floor

So we eat it

Off of the floor

But it’s fine

Let them eat red velvet cupcake

Thoughts for today

The bed creaks at night.

I tossed and turned

Just like I did

When I made spaghetti

One night at home.

Spaghetti and meatballs.

Meatballs sound so good right now.

Especially the ones from IKEA.

My sister spent a lot of time there.

Looking at furniture,

Comparing prices.

When before we just

Bought what we wanted.

Buying things.

Shopping seems like

Every single woman’s favorite hobby

Right next to flirting.

I don’t flirt.

But I do love grocery shopping.

Does that count?

Others say it doesn’t.

Some people still count

Tibet as part of China.

So I guess

I could be considered a woman.

It just depends on

What side of the border you’re on.

Tibet.

Mom’s going to Tibet.

Abandoning my younger sister in Korea

In order to ‘find herself’.

Never in her life

Has my sister been

Left behind in a foreign country before.

I’m pretty sure she’ll get used to it.

We all had to.

I just hope my sister doesn’t

Fall off a cliff over there.

Like I almost did.

Cliff hanger.

I hope this poem doesn’t end in-

Chocolate Covered by a Steel Wrapper

“You know, I think I’m like chocolate with the filling inside,” my mother stated as she stopped at the red light and put on her signal. My eyebrows raised up a notch.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I’m hard on the outside, but soft on the inside.” I laughed a little at the thought.

            No mom, you’re like steel. You’re tough through and through.

            “It’s true!” My mother pouted, as she turned left on green. I just shook my head.

            It was Friday, the twenty fifth of May and my older sister, Christine, came back home from college the other day. It was after school, and I was fervently writing the typical lines people would use for a birthday card for my friend’s party that I was going to attend.

I was sitting in the dining room that was across from the stairs and next to the kitchen. I heard plates clinking and the water running, so I knew my mother was washing the dishes because no one else in the house would. I heard the ceiling creak slightly, so I knew my sister was out of bed because her room was right above of me. The house was silent, as tranquil as a battlefield before a war starts. While I was writing ‘Happy Birthday Priscilla’, my older sister came downstairs in her worn-out cozy-looking pajamas. She mumbled a greeting to me before she entered the kitchen. My sister and my mother started to talk each other, but the conversation was mostly muffled. In the midst of their discussion, my older asked my mother for a favor.

“Mom since Mike is coming over, can his roommate come with him and stay over?” As soon as the words rolled off her tongue, the kitchen turned into a scream fest. This was the fourth argument they’ve had since my sister came back home the other day. I was sick and tired of their fighting, so I just blocked my ears from their screeching noises with my hands.

I looked at the time on my cell-phone and stared at the clock with wide eyes. I only had five minutes before the party started.

            “Mom, we have to go! We have to leave right now!” I yelled loudly. I ran to the front door. The door swooshed as I opened it, and the lock from the door made a loud click sound when I closed it. I waited outside of the door for a couple of seconds. I got impatient, so I opened the door again.

            “Why are you yelling at me? I just asked you to…” I shut the door. I counted ten seconds, and then opened the door.

            “I don’t know this guy! How could you have asked me to…?” Click… Swoosh.

            “I didn’t expect you to say yes, I just wanted you to…” Click… Swoosh.

            “I can’t talk about this right now. I have to drop off Joyce to the party. We’ll talk later when I get back.” My mother coolly slid past me and walked towards her silver Acura car. I glanced at my older sister and noticed that she was a total wreck. Her face was covered with red blotches, tears were running, and snot was dripping down. She shot me a look before stomping up the stairs to her room.

            During the car ride, my mother and I did not utter one word to each other. I thought that this was best because at that moment my mother was a ticking time bomb. If I were to say anything she would implode all of her angers and frustrations out on me. The only time I opened my mouth was when we arrived to thank her for the ride.

            At the party, I had fun, but I was distracted. Even when I talked about last year’s social studies class to my friends, when I complimented Brittany’s mermaid-like hair color, when I watched Meet the Fockers with my friends, when we decided that Meet the Fockers was too inappropriate and watched a different movie, or when we went to the park and showed off our exquisite cartwheel techniques, I was still thinking about my sister and my mother.

            Why must they argue? Why can’t they just get along? Don’t they realize they affect the whole house when they argue? Why must mom always be this unbendable steel?

            Before I realized, the clock struck 5 o’clock. Honestly, at the time, I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to have to go through listening to their endless bickering. I was much happier at my friend’s house, surrounded with people who laughed and smiled at me. Nevertheless, my mother pulled up to the curb and honked her horn. I coated my face with smiles, so that mother wouldn’t see me with an unhappy expression. I said my goodbyes to my friends, got into the car, and closed the door.

            The car ride was silent. Again. When we pulled up to the driveway of my house, I looked at my mom and I felt compelled to complain about what was going on.

            “Mom, why are you arguing with Christine? Did you have to yell? Didn’t you see that she was hurt? She was crying!” Mom whipped her head towards me angrily. Her fiery hair bounced behind her; the curls in her hair bobbed angrily.

            “And you don’t think that I get hurt too when I argue with one of you?” I was stunned. I couldn’t even speak; the only thing I did was have my thoughts running around my head.

No, I always thought that all you felt was anger.

“As a mommy, don’t you think that I want to cry too when one of my daughters cry?”

But you never show any of your tears. You only show your steel-like scolding face. I took a breath.

“Still, I think you should apologize to her, mom.”

“Why must I apologize. Why is it always me being the bad one? Why is it always my fault?” My mother collapsed into sobs. Her hands plastered onto her face and her shoulders were quaking. Her unsteady breaths sounded wheezy and tired.

Did my mother always look this fragile? Was she always this delicate, sensitive woman? Why didn’t I ever realize that behind her scolding face was a heartbroken one?

My chest tightened, my hands shook, my eyebrows scrunched together, and my throat felt closed up. Worst of all, my heart hurt. I felt and understood the intensity of my mother’s pain and it hurt me so much to see her feel this way.

 I stared as she furiously wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She glimpsed at me and smirked.

“Why are you crying?”

I quickly felt my cheeks and they were wet.

“It’s because you’re crying.” I dabbed my tears with my sleeve. My mom smiled, and then, that smile turned into a laugh. She helped me mop up my tears. Before we left the car, she hugged me and whispered ‘Thank you’ into my ear.

Wishing well part 1

“We don’t want to sleep! We don’t want to sleep!” The children chanted as they bounced up and down on their beds sending dust and feathers flying all over the room. Their mother tried to lull them to bed with her soothing voice, but nothing seemed to be able to work on these feisty hyperactive children. The little devils started to scream even louder, “WE WON’T SLEEP! WE WON’T SLEEP!”

            “What is with all this ruckus?” The grandmother asked as she limped into the room. She set aside her cane onto the sofa and then straightened her back.

            “I’m so sorry, mother-in-law, to have bothered you. I’ll have these little monsters in bed soon, so you should try to get some rest.” The mother said ushering the grandmother out of the room.

            “Wait just one moment, dear. How about you hand over your little monsters to me? This old woman still knows all the old tricks to tranquilize fussy children you know.” The grandmother replied with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

            “Oh, well, be my guest.” The tired mother said as she stepped aside and slumped onto the couch.

            “So, you children don’t wish to sleep?”

            “NO! NO! NO!”

            “But you do know you have to, even though you don’t wish to.”

            “Well then, I’ll wish on a shooting star so that we never have to sleep.” The youngest child replied. His big eyes climbed up to meet his grandmother’s eyes and challenged her.

            “I don’t think you need a shooting star to make a wish come true. Why, you can use a four leaf clover that you hunted for in the garden, or blow out birthday candles on top of a cake, or perhaps…” The grandmother said with a smile. “Perhaps a wishing well will do the trick.”

Testimony Poem

I was in the middle of writing my testimony when this came to mind...

In order to form a relationship with someone you must give them your heart.

Not the whole thing, of course, but only one part.

Once they take your heart they do whatever they see fit.

They might trample, tear, smash, or rip it.

They might drop it and abandon you leaving you feel dismayed.

However, God calls us to not be afraid.

Once you give your heart away you can never put it back.

But that is why God gave you lots so that it’s something you’ll never lack.

On the other hand you’d feel frightened.

Because you don’t want darkness you only want what’s brightened.

In the darkness you are scared because you feel alone.

Trapped in sin that you can never atone.

Though time and time again God shows something amazing.

We spectate that in the darkness there is a light that is blazing.

MF first book: chapter 2

Violet

            “Grandfather! Where are you?” Violet yelled out, while twisting the plain gold ring on her finger. She walked out of her bedroom and went into her purple and pink interior decorated living room. She pushed away the see through veils and saw that the couches were empty.

 “Grandpa? Come on stop playing with me!” Violet searched every single corner of their lamp, but her Grandfather was nowhere to be found.

            “Okay then. You leave me no choice, but to use my magic!” Violet exclaimed. She looked at her ring, but quickly thought it was better to leave it on. She thought of a wish, her purest wish. She then twirled her fingers into the right position. A rolled up paper shot out towards her. Violet unrolled it and her grandfather’s voice echoed out.

            “Dear Violet, excellent job using your powers! I put an enchantment on this paper, and I being one of the leaders, it was very strong magic. To be able to actually receive this letter takes a master of our kind to have centuries of practice. Violet, you have a special and powerful gift; however, do not take it lightly as your parents did. You know what happened, and I don’t wish that you would end up that way. I expect another important letter for you due soon, so be alert. Oh and you’re probably wondering where I am right now. I am going on an adventure and regrettably that is all I can inform you. Be a good girl while I’m gone and don’t take off your ring too often. Tata for now.

P.S. I almost forgot! I put another enchantment on this paper. As soon as you’re finished reading, a seal will but onto your powers. You will be able to use your powers, but now there is a limit. If you go beyond your limit your powers will go away for a short time and there is another side effect that will happen to you… But, I’m not sure what it is. It’s different for every person. I’m the only person who could release you from this magic, so don’t bother trying to take it off, you’ll only exhaust yourself. You will see why I did it in the near future. Well bye!”

            “What?!” Violet exclaimed. The letter disappeared and so did Violet’s energy. Her legs started to wobble. She tried to sit down, but her legs gave in and Violet sank to the floor.

            “Damn it grandfather!” Violet cursed while she started standing up. Her legs trembled trying to hold her weight. Violet tried using her powers. She thought of a wish… a pure wish. She started to conjure up her powers and distribute it throughout her body in order to heal herself, but instead she felt even more exhausted until she felt her magic drain from her. Grimacing, she stopped abruptly and fell onto the floor again with a loud thud.

            “When you come home, I’m going to kill you grandfather!” Violet cussed. She headed towards her couch with great effort. Laying and panting on the couch, she took her ring off. Instantly, her strength returned. Once she felt fully restored she put the ring back on.

            “Thank the leaders that I have this ring.” She sighed and kissed her ring. She lay down on the couch and noticed that she already did all of the things her grandfather warned her not to do.

            “Oh well. What now?” Violet wondered to herself. “Oh yeah. Grandfather said that a letter was coming for me. What did he mean by that?” As soon as she finished that sentence a second letter appeared on her lap. Unsurprised, Violet opened the letter.

            “Congratulations!” Violet read aloud. “You have been accepted to the United Force Academy. We evaluated your magic and according to our systems you have more than exceeded our expectations. You will enter the school as a special. We will see you when the school year begins and hope that you enjoy the rest of your summer.” Violet put down the letter and stared at the ceiling of her lamp. She smirked grimly.

            “Hmm, a Special... This should be quite an interesting year.”

Love Sonnet

I know it is wrong of me to think this,

But why are there no other pursuers?

Why is there no one who lusts for your kiss?

Blame the foolish for being wrongdoers.

Absurd how my every thought runs to you,

While others do not even know your name.

I ponder how they could stray from your view,

And gawk at yet another gaudy dame.

A black sheep amongst the many white sheep,

Yet they are ignorant of your rareness.

Blessed I am to have your love to reap

Though how unfair of their unawareness.

Joyous I am to have no foes to fight,

Yet, tis sad your love wasted on this blight.

Edgar Allen Poe tribute in Shakespearean Sonnet Form

*I wrote this for my english class, but they didn't allow me to actually use it. Apparently high school districts are really sensative when it comes to poems talking about wanting to kill people. Oh well, here it is.*

How beautiful you look with red-blushed cheeks.

Yet I can’t help but imagine them pale,

Color escaping once you meet Death’s peaks,

Your body shivering and starts to flail.

The only touch of color left would be,

The sweet intoxicating liquid rose

Dripping as you plead me desperately,

For from thy knife I pierce thee without woes.

Deranged they might call me for wanting thee

Slaughtered by none other than my own hand.

I have not gone mad, I just wish to see

How beautiful you’d look with my death brand.

These desires derived from hate comes naught,
Truly by cupid’s arrow I was shot.

mf first book: chapter one

Raven

            Raven’s father looked grimly at the newspaper as if he was contemplating on whether or not he should continue reading or tear it to shreds for being a waste of his time. He was perched on the antique beige grandfather chair that made the person sitting upon it look even more honorable and important than anybody else in the room. Raven’s mother stood to her father’s left with her arms crossed; a stern look thundered on her face.

            “Okay, Raven. You may begin now!” Her mother commanded.

As soon as she said ‘now’ Raven turned towards the white grand piano, closed her eyes, and concentrated. Raven felt every single key, every single string, in the piano, then, she opened her eyes. She flicked her finger towards it. Raven led the keys to play what she wanted; it was her mother’s favorite song, Beethoven’s Tempest.

            “Excellent Raven! You have now reached the highest level! It takes a genius to be able to do this, just like your father, you are definitely a prodigy in this kind of craft. Keep practicing.” Raven’s mother praised and commanded while Raven beamed from her compliments. Her mother turned towards her father, “Dear, did you witness what Raven accomplished? Aren’t you so proud?” Her mother asked with her enormous puppy dog eyes.

            “Hmm? Yes, of course. She is my daughter. She is expected to do everything perfectly. If she were to do anything less than perfect then I think you should address me mother, not when she does things she is expected to do.” Raven’s father crisply stated, not looking up from the newspaper. Raven’s face turned ice cold and the chill froze away her blush. Raven kept on concentrating making sure she didn’t make any mistakes.

            “Yes, well…” Raven’s mother paused then turned towards Raven. “Raven, did you hear that the letter was going to come here today? I’m almost absolutely sure you’ll get into that class.” Raven finished the song, then, looked up towards her mother.

            “I am almost positive mother. However, I didn’t hear that the letters were due today.”

            “I heard from the headmistress herself at the meeting the other millennium ago.”

            “Mother I…” Raven started, but stopped. Something flickered through the air and caught Raven’s eye.

            “Raven, what is the matter?” Raven’s mother asked concerned. Raven shot her arm up and grabbed something.

            “Good leading leaders! It’s a pousting parchment! The fastest flying parchment in all of the realm!” Her mother exclaimed causing my father to finally settle down his newspaper and look up at me with great interest.

            “Well go on. Open it Raven.” Raven’s father said sardonically. Raven instantly was going to glare at her father, but remembered her place and stared at the paper. She tried to break the seal, but it wouldn’t budge.

            “Raven, you don’t think it’s…” Her mother faltered. Raven felt around the paper and knew what she had to do. She tapped on the seal twice and concentrated. A burst of light broke out when the seal opened. The paper rolled itself out and then disappeared when the light went out. Raven frowned confused. She whisked her fingers in the air and whispered some words. The letter reappeared and floated towards Raven. She was about to grab it when…

            “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE INDEED PASSED THE TEST AND NOW YOU ARE QUALIFIED TO COME TO THE UNITED FORCE ACADEMY. SINCE YOU HAVE PROVED EXCELLENT SKILLS AND KNOWLEDGE YOU WILL ENTER THE SCHOOL AS A SPECIAL.” A voice boomed. Raven’s mother looked overly ecstatic. Raven’s father presumed reading his newspaper. Raven glued on a polite smile for her mother and gave a side-glance to her father.

Her mother left the room to prep for her brunch she has annually with her group. Her father went to his study room. Raven looked at the letter, closed her eyes, and concentrated. The paper burst into flames and incinerated before her. She grinned warily.

“United Force Academy, level Special. Just as expected; perfection.” She mumbled to herself.

It's really not easy...

It's really not easy. People look at you and already they believe they know everything about you, but they're always wrong. Yeah, I'm quiet, but maybe that's because I don't get into trouble and I'm not going to start to, or maybe it's because I don't want to talk to others. Okay, I'm extremely boring, but I really don't think that THEY would appreciate it if I act like an unleashed, wild crazed animal. I get good grades, but it's not like I study for five hours straight; in fact, the most I study is five minutes, or not at all. Really, I"m not who everybody thinks I am, yet no matter I explain nobody believes me.

It's really not easy. People look at you and already they believe they know everything about you, but they're always wrong about me. Yeah, I yell and talk like I'm half loon, but that doesn't mean I can't carry on a 'normal' conversation. Okay, I'm always being silly, but I don't think THEY would like it if I wasn't exciting enough. I seem to get into trouble often, but I don't 'get' into trouble, I trip into trouble. Really, I'm not who everybody thinks I am, yet no matter how many times I explain nobody believes me.

mf continued

I was running through the woods. I heard a rustle beside me and I quickly avoided whatever was trying to kill me. I ran even faster now, trying to get where I had to go so desperately. When I finally came into the heart of the forest I saw…

I woke up startled. My arm was outstretched as if I was trying to reach for something that needed extend-o-arms for. I shuddered trying my hardest to forget about my creepy dream. Cold sweat dampened my shirt, so I headed towards my closet to change into something less wet. I thumbed past all of the kimonos my mother only dreams of me wearing. I spotted a regular plain red t-shirt that I brought from the realm world. It’s my favorite shirt because the thread got its color from all of the monsters I killed. It has magical qualities that I don’t even know all about to this day. I only wear it when I feel like I need the most luck. You can see why it’s my favorite. Who wouldn’t want a bloody shirt that marks all of my victories and has sick magical bonuses? Anyways, I tore off my white tank top that I wear to sleep and shoved on my red shirt.

I ran down the stairs because my parents turned off the elevator in the mornings. They think I need the most energy building exercises in the morning. I guess they’re afraid of me getting lazy, but they should realize that I cannot afford to be lazy when I have a fight to battle. Seriously, parents really don’t understand anything do they?

While I was half asleep half awake and walking down the stairs I sensed something; I sensed something dangerous. Quickly I ducked down. A bullet shot right over my head. My parent’s prized stained glass window shattered loudly instead of my head. Seriously, ninja reflexes really come in handy in these kinds of circumstances! I stood up on the railings of the stairs and glided down. A second later I estimated thirty knives flung out towards me. Actually, I sensed them before they were thrown to me. (Thank you super awesome ninja senses!) After I was aware of the knives I did a couple of cartwheels and fast matrix-like movements to avoid them because the knives were all over the place. Since the knives came from all directions and came at me with such precise movements I knew my parents must have been behind this. They probably built a gun-shooting knife throwing machine and placed it behind the walls to try and see if I improved like they did last time I cam home to visit. Some parents right? (Oh and now you can see why I don’t stop by that often.)

I climbed up the wall and smashed my fist through the plaster. I found a regular handgun inside the walls. (My parents usually leave weapons inside the walls in case of emergencies. I, also, heard a rumor from the servants that they keep a machine gun in there too, but I can never find it). I smiled and closed my eyes and sensed my target. In the quiet I heard a slight movement toward the stairs on my left. I swiftly shot towards that sound, knowing I shot the person in a place where they would be weakened not killed. (It’s very dangerous to shoot a gun at someone with your eyes closed, so don’t try this at home kids unless you’re a professional, like me.)

I jumped down from the wall. I found the person on the stairs and they were bleeding on their calf. I found the bullet on the stairs, so I realized that the bullet only grazed the person. I smirked proud of my awesome skillage. I grabbed the person by the lapels.

The man looked like he hadn’t shaved for a while and he was probably in his early twenties. He had a ski cap on that covered up his eyes.

“Why did you shoot at me?” I asked glaring at him because I was pissed off that he tried to shoot me so early in the morning. I mean why couldn’t he just try to kill me in the afternoon when I’m not that easily pissed off. 

“... Hey I asked you a question!” I stated.

“I got no answer for you.” He gruffly grunted as he turned his head.

“Which translates to: you have an answer, but you can’t tell me, right? Fine, whatever. But, you might as well talk now because you can’t go anywhere with that leg wound. Oh, and I’m the one with the fully loaded gun.” I said expressionless as I held up the gun pointed towards him.

His face was empty, but if I could’ve seen his eyes maybe I would’ve saw terror.

mf continued

My mom is jealous of me because I can go in and out the realm like my father. The realm, somehow, is like my mother’s dream place. I think she desperately wants to go in order to make my father’s family accept her because she feels so guilty to make him give up so much just for her. Not to mention, maybe if she could be a realmer then my father wouldn’t have to sigh or regret marrying her so much. Sometimes I feel like she’s mad at me as a way to be mad at herself. You thinking what I’m thinking? If you’re thinking that my mom is still a lunatic and was definitely not healed right then you’re right!

My mother is human and I detest that because I’ve always believed the realm was where I belonged. Now that I’m out of school I’ve returned to the human world. Gross.

I sat down in the traditional, but oh so uncomfortable, way. I took the whisk and placed it next to me, making sure I didn’t bow down low enough, so that my heavy bow wouldn’t make me fall flat on my face. (And yes, if you are wondering, I’m wearing a kimono with a thousand pound bow in the back.) I crushed the leaves carefully and painstakingly slowly because it was “respectful” or something like that. I then pushed the crushed leaves into the hot water. Taking the whisk again, I swirled the tea around making slight swishing noises that was supposed to mean peacefulness and tranquility…or something like that. To me, it just sounded supremely annoying and squeaky. My mom looked at me, or more specifically, my mistakes. I poured the tea into the proper teapot and then poured into the individual teacups. I had to pour about one-fifth of the cups then pour again until it was full. I think I had to do that in order to create the perfect color or something. Then, I served my father first by holding the hot cup fully into both of my hands, until he nods and accepts. (The first time I had to do that I burned my hands to the point where they became so callused I couldn’t feel a thing. But guess what? My mom yelled at me for not having lady-like, soft, flower petalish hands!). When he nods I can then gracefully place the cup in front of him. I had to do that for each of the people that were in the room whom were my grandparents, my mother, and their guests. After I was finished I was able to excuse myself to my room.

“You were supposed to sprinkle the hot water into the tea leaves, not the opposite!” My mother whispered as I left the room.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” I muttered as I rolled my eyes.

I walked down the corridor, turned a sharp left, walked down another corridor, turned a long right, opened a door to another hallway, walked down that hallway until I spotted stairs, walked up the stairs, moved to the right where there was an elevator, went into elevator, pressed the number five, waited one minute, walked out of the elevator, ran down the hallway to the left, walked down yet another corridor, opened another door, walked down a separate hallway, found a door on the right, and then went into my room. Thank goodness my parents let me use the elevator this time. I sighed as I shut the door behind me.

I have the top floor of the western modern part of my house as my room. Okay, imagine the top floor of a five star hotel. Not just one room, but that entire floor. That is the size of my room. Jealous? Don’t be. It’s mostly filled with exercise equipment that I am supposed to practice everyday. My bed is pretty large too because I’m a restless sleeper. Trust me, if you get me a normal size bed I would fly off of it every time. I used to have a flat screen TV, but once I got really mad at my parents and ended up I punching it and it shattered. It didn’t matter much to me anyways. I hardly watched it. No offence to regular kids, but mortal TV is pretty stupid to me and it’s sorta weird seeing characters on TV that were supposed to be fake yet I see them in my world all the time for real. For example, Pokémon: People used to catch those critters allll the time, but it got annoying after a while. I don’t get how these humans can try to catch them for fake on those DS things, but never get tired of it. Seriously, humans make no sense to me at all.

I was bench-pressing one hundred pounds for one hundred reps when my parents came into my room.

“99…100!” I yelled as I placed the dumbbell back.

“Midnight.” My mother called. I looked up.

“What?” I asked as I sat up.

“You defeated your father in a battle today, correct?” My mother asked. My father tensed up from remembering that embarrassing moment.

“Yeah. What of it?” I said still angry about it.

“That means you must have gotten your ki back. It’s impossible to beat your father as a mortal. Simply just impossible!” My mother exclaimed.

“I don’t think so. And, mom, you probably know too. My mojo isn’t back yet; I can feel it.” I said. I placed my hand where my ki would be concentrated and built up. Sorry, but I can’t tell you guys where my ki place is because that’s my weak point. In order to have power you have to concentrate it on an area where you would be most weakened. Even in the ninja world there is no absolute power. Anyway, I can’t tell you or my enemies might use it against me. Hey, be happy that I’m telling you that I, the incredible undefeatable Midnight, actually have a weak point.

My mom seemed shocked for a moment, but then cooled down. My father was as stone faced as ever.

“This is quite odd. Honey, what does this mean?” My mother questioned my father as she turned towards him.

“I have no idea. This, also, makes no sense to me.” My father answered.

“Well this just tells me that I have to work out more. Can you guys please leave, so I could finish my work out?”

“Of course.” My father said. They both left. I sat still just to ponder about my ki and my parents, but it made my brain turn into mush. I did one more rep of one hundred on the bench-press, then plopped onto bed. I was poop tired. Once my body crashed onto the bed I passed out.

mf continued

Well, humans not only imagine good things, but they also imagine a bunch of horrible things. Things like snipes, gorgons, banshees, bad witches, bad vamps, and a bunch of other stuff. A long time ago, and I have no idea how long, we all used to live together. That didn’t turn out very well. The bad things took over and corrupted everything. No one was safe back then because every day was a survival-for-the-fittest kind of way. The leaders saw how chaotic everything was and decided to take action in order to restore balance. They created another world in which the bad things can live in to separate us. All of the good things went into the world called realm, and the bad things went into a separate world called the underworld. Then, after, there was peace and all of the good things were finally safe. The realmers are terrified of humans because of the underworld and all of their scars from the underworldlings. Not to mention, at any moment the humans could create something so awful that it could destroy everything, even the Gods. The amount of power they have over us makes us feel threatened, so that’s why most realmers and even underworldings hate humans. Sadly, my father didn’t.

That’s right! My goody two shoes, strict to the bone, stickler to rules, ninja father did the worst crime ever! He fell in love with a human and mated with her. Guess what that makes me. A halfling scum.

My father was booted out of the realm by his family and was shunned by all of his clan members. Because of the shame he put onto his family’s name my father expects me to clean up his mess, so that’s why he’s so harsh on me. Sometimes I wonder if he regrets it… you know, marrying my mom and all and having such a huge disappointment like me when he could’ve had a ninja life for an eternity. I really wonder.

My mother is very beautiful and strong. Those were the qualities that captured my father. She has black hair, brown eyes, a lean body that is normal height, and pale skin. (My father has black hair, blue eyes; his face structure makes it impossible to guess what his nationality is, oh and he’s pretty tall. I look mostly like my dad except my eyes are a mix. Some people say that it looks brown, and some people say it looks blue, weird right?). She came from a very traditional Japanese family that had forced her to train to be a warrior since she was young. Her family is and was rich, filthy rich. My father was the only one in her life that didn’t care about the money; considering the fact that money doesn’t exist in our world. He fell in love with her because of her strong moves and her strong, unyielding, personality.

Mom is probably one of the only humans that know the realm actually exists. In fact, my father took her there once only because she forced him to. Well, you see, my mother didn’t really want to marry him, no matter how much she loved him, but when he told her everything she told him that she would marry him if he took her there. Not a good idea because she was attacked all the time. The realmers and the underworldlings sensed her presence. Since she was aware of their world and how much power she had over it, they became frightened and tried to destroy her. They did worse than damage her body. They made her mind deranged, filling it with evils and living nightmares. My father rushed to save her and he returned her to the mortal world. Without a second thought, he exited the portal along with her. He nursed her mind back to health, but not fully because some of her scars from that day would never heal. He made up his mind to leave the realm for the sake of his beloved since humans can never exist in the realm. Thankfully, my mother’s family welcomed him with open arms because they witnessed his amazing skills that topped any fighter they had ever seen before. However, to this day they don’t know where he came from, but they respect his wishes in keeping that a secret because even they have some skeletons hidden in their closet as well.