We’ve lost a piece and without it we’ll never be able to fix them. We’re searching the room for it and I catch a glimpse of what looks like the Mad Hatter scurrying away. He looks back with the famous face of Johnny Depp and I see he’s holding the piece I need in his hands.
“Hey!” I run after him and he turns to flee.
I feel like Alice in Wonderland chasing after the white rabbit.
Within moments I’m by his side. His jittery behavior reminds me of Edward Scissorhands. “He took it.”
It’s as if I’ve become a fly on the wall, able to observe everything like the eye of a camera. And I watch a man with dark hair and dark-rimmed glasses take in the room before him.
He’s new. The duffle bag in his left hand makes that obvious.
He glances from bed, to bed in the large dorm room and I can tell by the way he pulls his brows together he’s not sure which one is meant to be his. Continue reading
We’ve managed to randomly bump into each other several times now, like providence is guiding our paths together in some love-struck rom-com.
He’s beautiful and charming and everything I want in a guy. Basically he’s Prince Charming.
Except one thing. Continue reading
It only comes back to me in fragments. But the feel of it remains with me long after.
I’m shopping. Laughing, having fun.
Only the store I’m browsing is filled with urns and coffins. Continue reading
My parents scowl at me like I’ve insulted them to their cores. All because I’ve professed my love for our stable-hand.
No, he is not of noble blood, but he has the heart of a prince.
Why can’t they see that? Continue reading
We’ve hidden here for years. Ever since the two ships collided.
And now our secluded valley is being threatened. I don’t know who they are, but they seem to come out of the old skeletons of the two ships.
We thought we’d be safe here. Continue reading
They need me but I’ve got no answers for them. Everything is blurred. Confused. Places once familiar seem foreign.
Everything seems skewed and out of place. Like I’m returning home to find the same furniture, but somehow still know that it’s not mine. The marks and scars don’t sit exactly right. Continue reading