Pretty Thoughts

The air is poisoned with exhaust fumes that drift from the nearby cars, the foul stench of greasy fries and burgers and endless honking and yelling. Elsa stands still, surrounded by the tall skyscrapers, and consumed by the sea of faceless strangers that dart back and forth across the intersection with their fingers wrapped around their coffee cups and their ears glued to their phones.

The heat escapes the asphalt road and the busy streets of Downtown Los Angeles become a magical blur.

Her long, strawberry-blonde hair is pleated into a loose braid; strands of it flutter in the summer breeze and gently kiss the tip of her nose and forehead. The skirt of her blue, cotton dress flaps from side to side, like a flag.

Her cornflower-blue eyes linger on the rueful expression on his face; his green eyes are filled with regret. He quietly turns away and leaves her standing alone. Tears stream down her face as she watches him leave to fight the demons inside of his head. Her heart is filled with sorrow and her soul is burned to ash, but she patiently waits for him to return. So they could be together, again.

Liam woke up with a start, the sound of his heart ringing inside of his ears. He quickly sat up on his makeshift sofa and glanced around the empty apartment. The unbearable heat seeped through the open windows, rustling the broken and stained blinds, and the faint sound of a siren resonated in the distance.

“Elsa…” he said, his voice barely a whisper when he realized he had only been dreaming.

The sky – a fine, silk fabric of midnight blue – unraveled for miles and shimmered with diamond stars that paved a celestial path towards an ivory moon. Dark, turbulent waves rolled in from the infinite distance and crashed against the wooden pillars of the deserted pier. Liam leaned his elbows against the tarnished railing and gazed intently into the murky water below. His eyes were distant and she wondered about the thoughts that waltzed through his head.

The orange glow, oozing from the nearby streetlamp, illuminated his firm angular jaw and kissed the faint scar that stretched across his left cheek.

She reached out and traced the faint, discolored mark that scarred his sun-kissed face. His skin, rough and unshaven, burned under her fingertips. Inexplicable warmth rushed through her veins, dripped into the pit of her stomach, and gripped her heart with carnal desire.

Their eyes locked in a soul-snatching, heart-robbing, till-death-do-us-part-kind-0f-a-stare.

Liam took hold of her hand and gently kissed it. A slow, shuddery breath escaped her bee-stung lips when his lips brushed against her skin.

She parted her lips, thirsty for his desire. He leaned forward, perfuming the intimate gap with his exotic aftershave, and delicately skimmed his lips against her chin. Her heart raced like a cheetah and she gave an involuntary shiver at the thought of his —

Her eyelids fluttered open at the sound of an incoming text message. She glanced around the dark, empty apartment and cast a doleful glance at the rain that peppered her tall windows.

“Liam…” she said, her voice barely a whisper when she realized that she had only been dreaming.

Pride and stubbornness keeps these lovers apart. Their parting was bittersweet and despite the pain this distance had caused, neither one had decided to break the foolish silence.

Pretty Thoughts

Dear Audrey,


Don’t shed another tear for him. You have been fooled from the very beginning. He was never meant to be yours. You didn’t share the same dream. It was just a figment of your silly imagination.

Love, Audrey, is a parasite that weaseled into the core of your being and clouded your judgment with lust, recklessness and obsession. It robbed your body of the heart and soul, and filled the gaping hole with emptiness.

He never loved you, my dear girl. His interest had been the soft curves of your body. His intentions were only to massacre your soft flesh, to rip your limbs apart until every sliver of your innocence bled.

Run Audrey, outrun these shameful memories – run as fast as a wild beast – do not fall prey to this powerful, suicidal feeling again. Do not let him rape your heart and penetrate your soul for the second time. Hide the pain. Hide the shame. You lost the battle, don’t try to retaliate. Accept defeat, you fool – suffocate your pride and drown your dignity – continue to live a safe existence, devoid of fairytales and happy endings.

The countless nights you’ve dedicated to his sensual desires should be repressed – burned to ashes – and replaced with pain that runs through your veins right now. The taste of venom he left on your lips should never be engraved upon your beating heart. The sinful memories of the unbridled passion he had bestowed upon your fragile body should be forgotten.

Remember the tears. Remember his deception. Protect your heart. Do not accept the poison for the second time. Do not fall in love again.






Dear Audrey,

A Doleful Farewell

A full moon peeked through the fleecy clouds, staining the midnight blue sky with a dull, yellow glow – the shade of custard pie – and softly illuminated the diamond stars. Sapphire flames prickled the sinister darkness, rising gracefully from the brass banisters, and revealed a funeral cortège of cloaked figures trudging through the milky-white snow.

Faces hidden behind white masks, with their long, hollow beaks swooped into a mournful tilt they pierced the cold night with a woeful lullaby, and gingerly carried a glass coffin. Snowflakes fluttered delicately in the wind, like butterflies, and disappeared into the crown of scarlet roses atop of her head.

Raven-haired, with smooth, alabaster complexion and soft, brown eyes, the Queen of Astoría, gathered the infinite layers of the tulle dress beneath her velvet robe and continued to accompany the mysterious creatures on their way to the desolate graveyard.

The moonlight unveiled giant, ice chess pieces that towered over the barren grounds and guarded the block of marble that stood atop of a snowy hill. The coffin had been set down on a white blanket of virgin snow. A lifeless body lay inside, on a bed of red velvet.

The late King of Astoría was swathed in a sea of black and atop of his golden hair rested a crown of thorns and black roses. His eyes – a hypnotizing shade of turbulent sea – were once aglow with fire, spirit and fearlessness, but now they were closed shut.

One of the creatures pointed its skeletal finger at the young woman and hissed, “Speak your last words of farewell, Your Majesty.”

She knelt beside the coffin, tears spilling down her pallid cheeks, and whispered, “Goodbye, my love. When the Heavens above decide to reunite us I will be at your side, but until that day comes I bid thee to wait for me.”




A Doleful Farewell

It’s Complicated, Not.

A plume of white smoke filled the room as he took a long, thoughtful drag of his joint and exhaled deeply. She lounged in the wicker armchair on the balcony, cradling a glass of Pink Moscato, and her bare feet were neatly propped up against a stool as she stared at the distant lights across the dark water.

What am I doing here? She kept thinking over and over.

Her heart had been massacred a few nights ago, her body had been robbed of decency and her soul had been raped and tossed into the gutter like the gum wrapper that gets stuck to the bottom of the shoes on the streets of L.A.

He squatted in front of her; a joint pressed between his thin lips and a glass of Whiskey in his large hand. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of a body that could bend steel and the kind of a face that could make panties wet.

He was a one-night-‘em kind of a guy, and the dangerous gleam in his eyes confirmed it. He was young, wealthy and with enough connections to catapult his firm buns into the upper society. He fucked girls for breakfast, lunch and dinner – love was foreign to him.

She was heartbroken, confused, and livid.

He cupped her chin and slammed his mouth against hers. His kiss was potent, enough to get her high. He parted her lips, blew the smoke in her mouth and covered every inch of her face and neck with sloppy, urgent kisses.

She knew what he wanted, but her heart said no.

She felt ashamed; she couldn’t play the game. She was no player, and her heart was at stake. She pushed him off, disgusted with herself, snatched the purse off the counter and stormed down the hallway.

He shouted her name and awkwardly adjusted his sweat pants as he hurried after her, and grabbed her hand.

He told her she was a fool for believing in love. He tried to make her stay, even fed her lies that could have made a weaker girl cave in, but she shook off his grip and told him she pitied him. Yes, he was young and had money to spend, but he was lonely and he coped with his pain by surrounding himself with phony-ass friends, boatful of weed and the type of alcohol that cost an arm and a leg but tasted like shit.

He stiffened and told her she couldn’t have everything she wanted before he slammed the door in her face. His words stung and they left her hollow and bruised. She braved the cold night in a flimsy dress, cried on the way to her car and promised herself that despite the pain it’ll cost, she’ll search out her soul mate.

He had to be out there – somewhere across the dark water, where the sparkly lights shine brighter than diamonds.


It’s Complicated, Not.

Dear Love, I F*cking Hate U


Dear love,

I’ve been mean. I won’t deny it.

I’ve scratched your name out of the pages of my life, only to wish that you’d return again and bring me an ounce of happiness. I’ve caused you pain, relishing the tears you shed and the wounded words you spoke. I’ve hated you, plotting the chaos I’d wreak in your life, after discovering your deceitful, conniving ways. Your unhappiness gave me a tinge of guilt – I really did love you – but I sought revenge. I waged a war against you for breaking my heart and although I feigned ignorance of your dirty deeds, I vowed to bring you to your knees.

I’ve won, but gained no joy.

My eyes were clouded with tears, my mind was spinning in circles and although I succeeded in bringing you pain, I felt hollow and frail. I felt like I was spinning on a carousel; the rest of the world blended into a colorful blur while I spun in circles and drowned in my own vengeful ways. I screamed for help, I wanted someone, anyone, to pull me off the carousel and pull the plug on the painful emotions that coursed through me. Nobody came to my rescue and I couldn’t hold on. I cried and cried and cried until my dry, blood-shot eyes weren’t able to shed another tear anymore. I clawed at my skin, yearning to pull it off my bones, and escape the torture that threatened to swallow me whole. I only wanted your love but I didn’t know it’d come with betrayal as well.

I’ve missed you. I won’t lie.

Perhaps our romance could have blossomed into an envious love affair. Perhaps I should have given you the chance to explain the rumors that reached my ears before your explanations. Perhaps I was wrong and irrational, as you had claimed. Perhaps my wounded pride had blindly sought out revenge without all of the pieces of the puzzle in place. Perhaps you were innocent but I simply refused to acknowledge it. Perhaps you still think about the night we went our separate ways, and perhaps you’re thinking of me while you’re with someone else. Perhaps we’ll be together someday, look back on this and laugh…

Dear Love, I F*cking Hate U

Leave Your Heart At The Threshold

Jane sat perfectly still even though her heart thrashed wildly inside of her ribcage.

Streaks of golden light streamed through the tall windows and cast a heavenly glow on his handsome face. His steel-grey eyes glowed with excitement, and he stood at the front of the church, in a dark tuxedo, with his blonde hair gelled to the side in a 1950s manner, and his pouty lips stretched into a blissful smile.

He was happy. It was one of the most important days of his life and he looked every inch of a fairytale prince.

A familiar melody broke the peaceful silence and the guests rose to their feet once the flower girls appeared and slowly moved towards the altar, leaving a trail of pink petals on the ground. The bridesmaids followed soon after and their tan, lithe bodies were swathed in chiffon gowns and their long hair was twisted into elegant chignons.

Jane watched with a heavy heart and a guilty conscious as the beautiful bride – enveloped in a sea of white lace and satin – glided towards the love of her life with a brilliant smile peeking underneath her veil.

Simon was getting married, Jane thought and even though she had been telling herself that for the last five months, the words still sounded foreign in her mind.

The love of her life was going to spend the rest of his life with another woman.

She swallowed a thorny lump that spawned inside of her throat and carefully sat back down when the bride took hold of the groom’s hand and lovingly stared into his eyes.

Jane forced herself to watch. Simon was, after all, her best friend.

Her palms were sweaty and she clenched them into tight fists to keep the tears from filling up her large, brown eyes and spilling down her porcelain cheeks.

Suddenly, a turbulent sea of memories surged through her mind; bits and pieces of sepia-toned film flashed through her eyes in which she shared laughter, tears and her heart with the man that stood a few feet away and slipped a shiny ring on another woman’s finger.

Her insides twisted into a cherry knot and hot, bitter tears rushed down her cheeks. It was hard to breathe – her chest felt tight and heavy – and when the newlyweds exchanged a romantic kiss, her heart dropped like an anchor into the soles of her feet.

The ceremony was over and the newlyweds, along with the horde of guests, rushed out of the church with tears of joy, untarnished laughter and hearty pats on the back.

Jane sat perfectly still.

Her heart beat weakly inside of her chest now. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared off into the distance and wondered if her body was dead. She couldn’t feel her toes and fingers – her arms were limp with exhaustion and her legs were frozen.

“Jane…” a soft whisper drifted through the eerie silence.

She knew that voice; it lulled her to sleep whenever she couldn’t stop crying and it served as a beacon of light at the end of her dark tunnel.

She turned around and stared into his deep, green eyes. They softened at the sight of her tears and when he stood up to sit next to her, her heart swelled with happiness.



Leave Your Heart At The Threshold

Author’s Note

A few moons ago I started a blog and surprisingly it gathered a handful of followers. I bubbled with excitement every time I’d receive a positive comment and in many selfless ways, I wanted to cater to my readers. I wanted to share my stories in hopes that they would somehow mend broken hearts, inspire listless minds and instill confidence – perhaps even trigger chuckles and giggles.

Unfortunately, one unbearably hot summer night drove a stake through my blog and killed it. Instead of battling the thunderous sea of emotions I felt towards the anger that simmered inside of my heart, I caved into the demons that danced inside of my mind and buried the blog without so much as an adieu to my fellow readers. I regretted that decision ever since. For I have deprived my rebellious mind of the only creative outlet that fueled my body with happiness, and instead chose to spend countless of nights sitting inside a dark, empty apartment with only hateful words on my tongue and bitter tears in my eyes.

Fortunately, I prevailed and gathered the strength to get up off my knees and walk away from those that caused me pain. Unfortunately, my little monster was dead and I couldn’t revive it.

After much contemplation and strategic planning – yes, a lot of thought had been injected into this idea – and outrageous intake of black coffee on daily basis, I have decided to breathe life into my new monster. I hope it morphs into the kind of a pest that I have in mind and makes me a proud mama.

Before I embark on this wonderful and chaotic journey, and pour my heart and soul across these web pages, I’d like to give you a fair warning.

I’m a human being. Please don’t forget that.

The intentions behind this blog is to challenge, inspire, instill and enlighten – not to spew hatred.

When sharing a sliver of yourself online, you’re bound to face harsh criticism and in order to protect my inner peace, I have decided to write about fictional characters and feelings. The feelings are my own – love, anger, apathy and sorrow – but the characters are just a figment of my imagination. This way, I express myself without being vulnerable.

Thanks for taking the time to read my introduction and hopefully we’ll embark on this wonderful journey together!

Author’s Note