Disillusionment

  It was a strange sensation.
  It started with the curdling of the heart, and a deep drop somewhere in the diaphragm, followed by a slow tightening of the throat, fingers writhing and an electric spark in the eye. It felt as though I had caught the flu, but had nothing of the fever, with my heart beating rapidly but no heat of the mind to speak of. Oh my heart!
  It was just me, sitting there, staring, and as the sensation came I thought of all the mountains in the world, the skyscrapers that man had built to challenge them; it was as though an earthquake had swept though the lines of tall, proud constructions -the product of nature and men- and leveled them to their knees, leaving nothing but grey dust and bland rubble. Oh my heart!
  It was more than that to me. I could not imagine anything else quite so fascinating, so unusual, yet so very wrong, so devastating that it shook me down to my very core, like a knife through a stick of butter, twisting and wrenching as it goes, bleeding oozes of yellow that resembled pus more than oil. Oh my heart!
  It occurred to me that this wasn't real, but the sensation was already in motion, and if nothing, I could not deny my feelings, for they are the only things that I can feel. I looked on as the scene unfolded horrifically, tearing apart the waxed-paper wall that I had been hiding behind for years, recoiling as the monster reached out for me, took me by the heart, and throttled it. Oh my heart!
  I shook with fear inside, for on the inside, no one can hurt me but myself.
  Was what I thought.

Indifference

Across the deep blue sea
Somebody waits for me
A beacon of hope
That I might not bemoan
The deaths of the ones I see

In tragedy we love to find
The silver lining of time
But often as not
Our efforts will rot
And our bodies will wont to die

A life lived for none
Wills a grave dug by one
We cannot foresee
The end we will meet
Never relent and be done

A horrible weeping sound
Falling in pain, to the ground
It is hard to care
When you cannot share
The pains which have you bound

But apathy gathers no gains
Do not look on in disdain
For though we are slaves
There is no worse grave
Than saying "all is in vain"

Try.

Starlight

  We run in the Sun all day to the tunes, our hands grasped tightly like the fierce embrace between mother and child, exploring the rolling plains and smelling the multitude of flowers that decorate the fresh green grass, flourishing in the eternal light of fire and moon.
  The tune changes to a show melodious one, and we stop running and turn to the sky, wondering what happened to the cheer of life and the rays that empowered our endless flight into the unknown. As we stand there and wander, we realise that the mournful song is also one of dance, and with our hands still embraced, we begin to waltz slowly, allowing the overpowering music to envelop us in her arms.
  We drift slowly from the darkened grass into the soulless unknown, our feet stepping on air as the tune continues. It hurts, but our eyes are closed and our hands are in one another's and the starlight, growing brighter, illuminates the narrow stairway where we tread. Inevitably, we become the stars in the heavens, growing brightly and giving life to the grass and flowers that once loved us, worshiped by none but revered by all.
  With our eyes we see them; holding hands and running in our light through the rolling plains and flowers, before we are snuffed out by time.

The Family Photo

  She sighed, removing sweat from her forehead in a careless swipe.

  Perhaps fear of destroying her makeup should have gripped her more, but with six children, one crying, one angry, one confused, one amused, and two becoming increasingly exasperated; at the moment she really could not care less.

  "Shaun, I don't care if he poked you; straighten up your shirt and settle down, before I take away your toys again." That silenced him also immediately, except for the occasional sniffle. One could not expect miracles.

  She spun around to the next child. "James, if I catch you annoying Shaun again, I'll be forced to punish both of you."

  "But it's taking so long!" James whined in outrage, "sitting here is boring!"

  "It'd be ten times shorter if you would stop making your younger brother cry! Now sit there and keep your hands to yourself or else." She raised a threatening finger, resulting in a cowering James, who sat still with a grumpy expression on his face.

  Her next son, Kyle, was trying to stand in front, constantly looking at his feet shuffling. "No Kyle, you're supposed to be standing over here, beside me."

  "But then, Jessica and Janet will be blocking me from view," Kyle said, voice hesitant, feet still moving.

  She almost laughed aloud. "How many times do we have to tell you before you believe us: you are taller than both your sisters. Just stand there and trust me, alright?" Kyle nodded uncertainly, but moved faithfully according to her advice.

  Her last and oldest son, Ben was just standing there, grinning at everyone, his shoulders shaking slightly. She looked him up and down, and just stifled a giggle herself. She was beginning to realize how funny her family must look.

  "Don't laugh during the photo, Ben. Just smile with the rest of us, okay?"

  "A‐Alright Mom. I'll try."

  They all gathered together as the Father fixed the camera onto the tripod, adjusted the settings, and pressed the button. The light on the camera slowly blinked red, allowing him time to join the family photo. "Smile, everyone!" she said with a sharp edge in her voice, before the device clicked and the image was captured.

  It had taken almost an hour to get everyone together and posing properly before they could finally set up the camera. 

  A job well done, she told herself, nodding with satisfaction.

* * *

  "Hey, I remember this!"

  Ben laughed as he picked out the photograph from its sleeve, smiling down at it with a strong feeling of nostalgia.

  The siblings had been going through their mother's belongings, and had come across a small wooden box; it had quickly become a treasure chest as its contents were revealed. Jessica replaced another photo album back into the box and shifted over, looking at the photo. "Oh," she grinned, "that was before I left, wasn't it?"

  Shaun and James stopped bantering to turn around. "What? What'd you find?" Shaun said excitedly, before standing up from the bed and leaning over the small group gathered by the chest. With a slight frown, Janet pushed Shaun to the side slightly. "You're blocking the light," she explained; she then adjusted the picture in Ben's hands slightly, preventing the oily layer of the picture from catching the glare completely.

  "Wow, this is old," James said, in a similar position as Shaun. He smiled slightly as he remembered throwing a small tantrum before the photo was taken.

  Kyle stopped his ministrations on the piano and turned his head to the side, listening in to the conversation.

  "You can see that I was crying," Shaun said excitedly, pointing at his own, much younger face. "My eyes are still red; what was I so mad about?"

  James sniggered, "Don't sweat it, you used to cry all the time. Probably some other dumb reason."

  Shaun feigned ignorance, but a slight curving of the lips betrayed him as he extended a finger to match James' face. "Hey, since when did James become shorter than me?" he smirked, at which James immediately extended himself to full height, and tiptoed. Shaun did likewise, puffing out his chest. They both grinned.

  "Settle down, you two," Kyle said quietly, replacing the protective clothe across the piano keys before closing the lid gently. He glanced over from the chair, trying to see above the heads of his older siblings. "Don't worry, just come closer, Kyle," said Jessica, amused. She shook her head in consternation "You're exactly like you were when we took this photo."

  Kyle frowned, "I can't look exactly the same- it's been years."

  Jessica continued her head shaking.

  "Wow, I had such a big smile," Ben half shouted, trying to break into Kyle's thoughts before they grew out of hand.

  "I've actually noticed a similar expression in all the family photos we've taken," Janet said. "if anything, you actually look like you're close to laughing."

  "Really? I can't remember what for, though."

  "Mom used to tell you not to laugh during a photo-taking session all the time; you really don't remember?"

  "No... It's been years since we've taken a family photo."

  At those words, almost everyone went quiet at once.

  Later, they could never remember who had started the first raindrops, but it had quickly evolved into a storm. They all turned to tears, crying as they sat around the wooden treasure chest that held all their precious memories, hugging each other for comfort- weeping as they mourned forever incomplete family photos.

  Their father pressed the button, and hurried to join them, standing at the side.

  They all stood there, arms around each other, standing tall and smiling for all their worth.

  When they looked at the photo from the screen of the digital camera, everyone knew Her face was missing, and that in every family photo thereafter, Her face would always be missing. 

  But no one noticed.

The Fall of Shigasina District

His head could be seen over the wall. It stayed there, completely stationary, almost as if it were floating, immovable amongst steam and smoke; a flesh covered face with barely any skin, and a strange network of visible bones across terrifying, empty features.

No one moved, as though time itself had stopped to regard the strange beast staring over the top of the wall. No one said anything; what was there to be said? What amount of alliteration, of allegory, of simile or metaphor could describe the sheer brink of the moment, the sense of terror mixed in with awe that froze the very blood of every sentient being across the district?

It was staring over the top of the wall.

"AAAHHH!" a woman screamed in the distance, and the cry was taken up by hundreds, thousands, as both men and women screamed in absolute terror. They fled in absolute panic, directionless and confused: towards home, towards the military base, towards the north wall in hopes of safety and shelter, towards family members and friends. Children were trampled mercilessly, objects of seeming value were discarded with utmost ease, and all the while, humanity screamed a desperate cry.

SMASH.

The gate that had held the titans at bay for more than a century was obliterated into wreckage and debris that scattered into the town, creating more chaos and destruction. People were smashed into unrecognizable chunks of meat by falling boulders, buildings were demolished by even larger pieces of the gate, and all the while that face looked over the top of the wall, still absolutely terrifying in appearance, only now it seemed to the panicked below as though it were smiling at the utopia that it had destroyed almost laughably easily: with a simple kick.

Bells were rung in the distance, with echoing shouts of "The titans! The titans!" ringing throughout the district. "Head north, behind the wall! Flee!" the shouts came, and amidst the chaos some small shred of reason was found, and the citizens began to run north in a messy, general swarm. Soldiers, bearing the intertwined Roses of the Wall Garrison, were dispatched into the field, attempting to usher the people to safety in a more orderly and efficient manner, whilst simultaneously shaking in their boots.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

The sound that the soldiers had imagined, and dreaded.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

The citizens could not comprehend it after years of peace; they had never seen or contemplated what could make such a loud yet bone chilling sound.

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

The titans were here.

Ranging from three meters to fifteen meters, they possessed the facial physiques of the ugliest humans alive; skin taut and pale, with faces diverse yet all equally strange and blood-curdling. They marched deeper and deeper into the city, leaving nothing but pieces of corpses in their wake, the blood of previous victims stained across their teeth and faces, seeking to satisfy an insatiable hunger, the hunger for human flesh.

A young girl's horrified scream came, high-pitched and loud before it was silenced forever, replaced by the soft sound of blood splattering. A man ran through the street, tears pouring down his face with his mouth wide open, unable to produce even the smallest squeak from fear, before a large hand grabbed him from above the buildings. Soldiers, once comfortable and drunk, once easy-going and confident, either fled, praying that their time had not come, or attempted to fight the titans in a vain stab at bravery. Both the former and the latter met with the same fate.

On that fateful day, humanity was reminded of the feeling of being caged, of living like birds: unable to escape from their chains. To live in constant terror of something that sought to devour, an unstoppable force that could never be sated; on that day, humanity remembered.

Peace was only respite.


My first tribute to the Japanese Manga, Attack on Titan.

Boredom

It began with a cup
Of sweet longan juice
Ended in mishap
Then boredom ensued

Of course, there was panic
It was my baby, my all!
I went almost manic
What could be done now??

I took her to pieces
Cleaned all the keys
But oh so useless
She screamed, "futility!"

She said what I didn't
Did nothing I wanted
Everything unbidden
I knew... She was broken

My laptop was broken!

So I sent her to shop
"Five working days"
And my heart just stopped
"I won't last five hours"

I returned home in tears
Not literally, but close
For all my worse fears
Had just overdosed

My holiday had begun
But I had nothing to do!
Run out in the sun?
"Are you crazy?!"

But some part of me
Knew this was sad
Was the laptop screen
All that I had?

A slightly larger section
Spoke quite forcefully
With undue aggression
"Do something worth doing!"

And I remembered
Long ages ago
Before videos rendered
But were taped on the go

I would have been jovial
Well on my own
Reading a novel
Or writing a poem

So I did what I loved
Besides video games

I read books
I wrote stories
I looked at scenery
I walked alone
I drew nonsense
I talked with friends
I laughed with family

I lived

Was I bored at times?
Of course I was
But whoever said
I wasn't bored of my laptop?

The Unknowable

It is the sensation of being removed

When I stand on a snowy mountaintop

Overlooking glades of evergreen forests

As one watches a slow sunrise with a loved one

The waves of a thousand seas breaking on the shore

She enjoys the comfort of a gentle breeze on a desolate day

The tip tap of light rain in the deep silence of night

A fireplace in a winter storm

A tinkling waterfall in a deep jungle

It is like memory

It is like love

It is like peace

Tranquility

Detachedness

Nostalgia

It is the feeling that only you can feel

Like no one else can see