Qisma

It was a beautiful morning, the sort of morning where you woke up early after a nice long sleep to a rising sun on the blue horizon as its glowing red lights spears through the faded clouds as the mist giving the cars, grass and everything it touches a blanket of showering vapours. As the birds freely chirping its songs and releasing its wings to the open morning sky, you sit there at your well paid apartment balcony while sipping on the hot instant coffee staring at this wonderful morning. It was the sort of morning where you would want to call sick for work and take the day off to enjoy this nature’s masterpiece but the souls in your house which you love so much forces you to work.
Beneath the comforters of the king-size bed lays your washed-out marriage but deep inside you, still lie a burning feeling that keeps you working. You moved to the crib in your vague room staring down at the soundless innocent child sleeping without a worry. Ironic, you think this thing you spend so much would grow up to be the adolescent who would have forgotten to appreciate you just like his brother and sister in the rooms beside you, just makes you wished you didn’t see this beautiful morning.
Sometimes you wish to just wake up to a cabin in the forest surrounded by the children and ancestors of the forest next to your dearest love which you still have connections with or perhaps even on a chalet near the beach as the rumbling waves wake you up to another day with the blue horizon as your window and the soft white powdered sand as your backyard. Or maybe just one day you want to do something extraordinary, something you would not normally do. Perhaps if you could go back and change a decision in your life things would be different, a date you should have went, a job offer you should have take or a phone call you should have answer.
But that’s all in past tense; it’s been done and can’t be change. As the reality slowly creeps back into your head you realise your already late. You had a quick shower barely had time to get fully acquainted with the cold water and finish the now cold coffee and two pieces of bread as your breakfast. You think to yourself how nice if I had a month holiday like these kids then maybe you could do the things you longed for. As you a start your mediocre car you think to yourself is this really how I pictured adulthood really is? Is this how I planned my life to be? No, when I was younger I dreamed to be a great man, an idol, leader of the world or someone famous. I dreamed of finding cure and getting good jobs and income. I dreamed of going places and doing things but none, none had been successfully accomplished. You’re on your mid 50’s near enough to your grave but yet you haven’t done a thing.
But your not alone, millions of others feel just the same. Nearly ¾ of the working is where he used to be that is of course before he knows the real purpose in life before he meets me.
My name is Kismet/Qisma or Fate/Providence in mans on their 50’s suffer the same problems. The mid-life crisis hits almost everyone and John Dalmore was no exception. He was just like you where you are now your language. I am there beside you as you read this or while you making love to your mistress or when you take a dump. I’m everywhere and no where. There is no escaping me just delays. Soon you and I would meet, if you’re eating a Macdonald and drinking a six-packs with a cigarette stuck at your moustache and think smart enough to drive and read this then we should be seeing any second now.

Me and her

“I saw the glorious moon pampered by its dark blanket cloud of night, while its luminous light bleeds in a reddish-yellow glow. I saw the moon hides as the dawn approaches making way for her well-praised brother of the day. I saw the moon sets on the dark-blue horizon while the sun rises from the purple blue horizon of the east. I saw the sunlight shimmers through the clouds as its climbs up to the sky. I saw the sunlight creeps through the darkest corners of the city as the rats return home from a nightful play.
The once silent city is now slowly waking up to a brand new day as some clings the dream they had the night before, not wanting to face the unforgiving hours of work. However, a soul stands quietly still on the ledge of the building staring down at the deep abyss of the task that had haunted him for all these nights. That soul was me…,” said Nazreen to himself as he scribbles those words down into his yellow notebook. The perfectly blend colours of the grey clouded sky with the colours of the scratched faded light blue paint of the building and the torn blue jeans of his creates a beautiful contrast that could only be appreciated by a photographer.
Nazreen quietly sits there at the edge of the roof staring at the empty streets as a great wave of warm summer’s breeze sweeps through carrying with it the unguarded writings of his. He saw the papers flew past by him and towards the open air. Deep inside him he wished he was apart of the pieces of papers. Flying in the open sky away from the busy city life, and where ever they land they will be forgotten.
His fingers wrapped around any solid surface as he grips the edge of the rooftops gaining his confidence. The sweats running through his fingers make it even harder to hold on. He looks down once again at the abyss beneath his feet, thinking: “I’ve got to do this. It is now or never. It would be a lot harder if you let the sunrises. C’mon now, Nazz. Don’t be a pussy, jump and get through with it.”
When he finally gains the extra courage, he stands at the ledge with his right foot in front of him. His hands still holds on to the ladders of the water house. As he stands, there his whole life flashes before his eyes. A short life it is, a short miserable life but still a life. His hearts pounced life a loosed train within his rib cage, his voice echoed from his scream indicating that he would finally do what he had dying to do. That is dying.
“Are you gonna jumped or just scream?” a voice interrupts his main event. “I really wish you don’t. It would totally ruin my day.” The voice came out from a sweet strawberry pink lip behind a beautiful chocolate river hair that flows elegantly in front of her perfectly carved face, hiding those ocean blue diamond eyes as the figure walked out of the shadow and up to nervous suicidal kid. “But if u have to. Then hurry up with it or else get off the edge.” She looked into his eyes. “So what’s it gonna be big shot? Dead or Alive. You choose.”
“Excuse me, but who are you?” asked the confused Nazreen.
“No one special, just came up here to see the view,” answered the girl.
“Oh… ok .If you don’t mind I’m into something here.”
“I know you’re gonna jump. Just want you to hurry up. You’re spoiling the view.”
“I…..I…” the puzzled Nazreen tries to forget the girl and concentrate on his jump. “Aren’t you going to stop me or try to persuade me not to jump?”
“Nah, not really. You must have your reasons to be here and beside not as if you would change your mind even if I did tried. Will you?” said the girl while sipping her coffee.
“No but I might have.”
“Then you’re not really suicidal but an attention seeker.”
“Aren’t they all?”
“Yeah... so you do not really want to die just want little bit more of the limelight. Why don’t you go and join a talent show or something instead, uh?” she suggested.
“But I do want to die..!”
“then go ahead..” she said.
Nazreen looked forward trying his best not to take notice at the girl next to him. By this time the sun was already up and about. After a while, he got back into his state of mind and ready once again to jump. As he let his left foot forward there was a humming tune next to him. He stares at her. She mouthed sorry before letting him return to his suicide. Once again, he had his left foot out , ready to jump. And once again she interrupted him with the question, “So why exactly do you want to die?”
“Look its none of your business alrite..!” he answered with a tone of annoyance.
“I’m just curious because you looked really determined to jump. Meaning your problem must be really bad.” She said. “The only person I know who this determined to die was my friend’s uncle, Thomas if I’m not mistaken, that’s also because he blamed himself for the accident of his wife. Now you didn’t killed anyone did ya?”
“Look I have my reasons alrite!” he said.
“I know, that’s why I’m so bloody curious.”
“Miss I’m trying to kill myself here if you don’t mind. I need peace and quiet.”
“Ok...ok..”
The surroundings was fading away as the motion-filled city calms into a quiet setting for his suicide. Clearing his minds and relaxing his feet and with all his senses alert as possible, he shifted his weight forward and dived in with open arms, shouting “freedom….” Or at least that how it happened in his mind. But sadly the girl didn’t stop asking. “Was it a lost lover? Broken hearts are the main caused of suicide but I’m sure we can fix that.” Nazreen walked down from the ledge in anger. Grabbing books and pencils and stuffed them into his bag. Ignoring any comments she had to say about him.
“Or is it, family matters? If it is family matters then you’ve got to toughen up little sisie, everyone have family problems?” she said as he walked toward the door.
“Where are you going? Not going to jump? So you are just an attention seeker are you?” She saw him shutting the door behind him. She gave a little laugh as she turn towards the view. She felt happy and proud of her actions.
Once the cup was empty she started to walk back towards the door when her eye caught the sight of a yellow notebook lying in the dirt between the legs of the water house. She picked the book up examining it before placing in her front pockets of her blue sleeping robes. She walked away with the dirt and black stains on the sole her white fluffy bunny rabbit sleeping slippers.

The WoodStock's Children

I open my eyes to the most beautiful day of my existence. Taking the warmth and comfort of the angel next to me. It’s a wonder how a place like the back seat of a yellow Volkswagen T2 Samba bus could give me the best sleep I’ve ever had. I stared outside the window as the brightest sun peeping through its blanket clouds and shines upon the sweet delicate cheek of my angel. The fragrance of her flowing light brown hair and the smoke of the weeds fill up the vehicle with an artificial happiness. I took a great patience at checking my watch hoping that the one-month long holiday would last a little longer. The watch had just struck noon, meaning I only had 24 hours of joy left before I’m sentenced back to the dull and torturing prison called school. I slowly open the door of the van letting in the sun to wake my heavy-eyed acquaintances. The continuous waves of warm breeze from the seaside sweeps through every inch of my body cooling me down from the heat of the sun.

The aroma of the Starbuck’s coffee and the dishes from the diners drives my feet towards it. There was a whole row of dinners a lined perfectly next to the beach like luring baits for the hungry tourist that visits here. The sea of happy faces that once filled up the piers and streets had vanishes as the summer season ends. The only faces that had left was the faces of the lucky residence that lived their whole life by this majestic beauty. I walked passed the old man who was riding the bicycle cheerfully as I make my way to the diner. I envy this man for having such a genuine happiness and freedom, something I would never have anymore as the term starts.

As I enter through the door, I could feel the sharp stares of the costumers. The room was an exact opposite to the environment outside and so were the people. I saw a cloud of dust circling the ray of lights from the window and the televisions. The costumers weren’t smiling like people outside; here they were sad, worried, angry and unsatisfied. My stomach was rumbling when I reached the counter but the money in pocket could only satisfy me with a warm cup of mocha coffee. It was a strange feeling as I sat there waiting for my order, it was like being back in the school canteen where everyone stares at you as if there was a sticker behind your back saying ‘Kick Me’. Once the old hag in waitress outfit given me back the change I quickly dashed for the exit.

 It was a pleasure to feel the warmth of the sun again as I walk out the door. The last thing I want is to be back into the gloomy pitch I call home. The thoughts of the year ahead of me creep back into my head as I took a sip of my coffee. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the last year for me in high school. I should be happy for I only have to suffer one more day before freedom is mine forever but since it’s the last year meaning there would be loads of studying to do. I have to surprise everyone that ever doubted me.
Somehow, I know that would be impossible without her by my side. Oh how I desire to have their lives. They live free to roam the skies like the birds and the bees. Without a care in the world of the parents, school, work or money.
The sands slithers away as I walk down to the sea. I saw the waves splashing against the pole of the piers washing away the shells and crabs that had been attached by the green slimes. I saw the ashes of the campfire we had the night before, and the spitting memories begin to replay in my head. The songs and laughter’s which echoed through the northern air as the long unwashed hairs tangled together as we hugged the beer bottles and the sandals consumed by the sea. We were the exactly resemblance of the greatest culture that died out in the 80’s killed by the crooked nosed politics. The culture that had given birth to great legends and its biggest achievements that still being praised until to this day, the Woodstock!

 I remember the flickering lights of the fire shines upon her hair as we lay on the sand beneath the piers far away from the noisy friends of ours. The flower falls elegantly combing through the soft brown hair as my dirty hands disturbed it from its original position. The sweet tender touch of her lips on mines could give me warmth through out 7 winters. As the music of our favourites plays by the seaside so did my hands. Enjoying every touch and every love and reaction I get in return. This is where I want to be, this is how I would love to go out of this world. Making love to an angel. We wrestle each other in the muddy sands, even in mud she looks pretty. The intimacy was even more emphasized by the huge waves washing of our sins. And in that moment I feel as if the world had just stopped as I stare down at her while the waves were our ceilings and the sands were our beds. It was the best night of my life.

The wooden floor of the piers creaks as I walked towards the edge. Seeing in the blue horizon I could see nothing more than a lone sail. I saw the kites flying gracefully above me in many colours as the joked on me. They were up there free and beautiful with the winds as the main road. I wished I was the kites, flying freely up in the sky away from my troubles. I felt the warm of my beautiful angel holding my arms tightly. I turn around see her in a daisy white singlet with a beautiful washed out orange puffy gipsy skirts as her enchanting green eyes looked into my soul. I hold her soft delicate cheeks upon my hands as she gives me a tender peck on my dry bitter lips. “Mocha,” she mouthed.
All of a sudden a feeling of confidence filled me inside. I felt ready to face my troubles back home.

Suicide Note

Suicide Note

One cold dark night, I stepped up onto the edge. The simple act of moving my feet towards the chasm that had terrified and haunted me for so long had finally been accomplished. The days, weeks and years of tentatively testing the feel of the steps towards the brink before losing my confidence and turning back were now behind me.
I gripped the rim tightly with my toes curling round the cemented base doing their best to ensure that the comfort and stability offered by the ledge would stay. Cautiously, I peered over the tips of my toes into the endless drop that was before me. O mages of my previous attempts flashed through my minds. The fear of it, every step I took towards the ledge was heavy and pain wrecking. Once on the ledge, I lost all my nerves and guts to make my next move.
But now it had to be done. The surrounding was fading away, what used to be a city filled with motions and sounds is now a quiet and calm setting for a jump. These are the words that flows on and out my mind like endless rain into a paper cup as I stand there : “Our body are prisons for our souls and only death shall set us free.”
“Only the birds could touch the sky and playing in the among the gates of heaven. If you’re born a bird, you’re blessed.”
Clearing my mind, I relaxed my feet and with all my senses as alert as possible, shifted my weight forward and dived in with open arms, shouting “FREEDOM!!....”

Woken

Woken


The fluorescent light of the bathroom flickers allowing only a few moments of sight of the dirty disused room. A river of blood silently flows down the bathtub and onto the toilet’s floor. A couple of air bubbles out from the smooth sea of blood as the silence of the room pierced by the shrieking of the bloody figure emerging from the blood filled tub. She vigorously pulls out the respiratory tube, which had been keeping her alive submerged in the pool of blood for hours, out of her throat.
She was gasping for air as her sight began to gain focus. A drip of blood flows into her lips. The taste of the iron liquid alerted her to check across her bare-naked body for any sign of injuries and gladly found none. She sprang out from the tub and onto the broken tiled floor. She carefully checked her surrounding as the blood flows from her shoulder short blonde hair, across her sweet fresh tits, down her firm perfectly formed buttocks and onto the floor beneath her strong long legs.
She wipes the bloods away from her face revealing a beautiful carved face and her ocean-blue eyes that shines along with her angel like beauty in this disgusting scenery. She tried to wash down the blood on her body but there was no flowing water from the sink or the shower. She runs for the door and prays it would be unlocked although she doubted that it would be. As she turns the handle and opens the door, she felt a mixed feeling of relief and shocked at the same time but did not care to investigate. She peeks her head out the door and run out into a forest on a hill.
From the outside the bathroom looks like a small cabin that blends naturally with the forest of Andorra. There was two figures standing in front of the door not long after the girl ran out it, both were extremely handsome men in their early twenties. One was a pale-skin with green eyes and a straight long black hair that hides his face. The other had a tanned complexion with hazel-brown eyes and long dark brown scruffy hairs with sign of facial hair. Their eyes were fixed on the trail of blood that leads into the forest; they took a moment to breath in the scent before they begin their hunt.