Creative Writing, Love

Fate

Ezra

My throat filled with fluid, reaching down my body. Keeping me down, leaving me fighting to get to the shore. In futile. Left paralysed, as my body is submerged under water. My body smothered with water, immersing deeply into the well of hollowness with no way to flee. “No. Help” I hear myself scream. The bleak darkness drowning, flooding me into a sinking void. “Please. Stop it” I hoarsely whisper, spiralling in and out of consciousness, trying to escape. My closed eyes swarming with bright light, leaving me momentarily hazed. My body tightening, seizing as I have become delirious. Feeling uncontrollable as my chest constricts with my throat compressed into knots unable to bring in oxygen. “Stop. Stop” I inwardly whisper, needing to leave this hellish trance. Beams of intense luminosity emerging in my vision. Glowing, brown eyes alighting, their breath exhaling. Yielding my body to arch, the heaviness of my chest relinquishing in sync with their breathing. Immersing me into calmness, oxygen coming back to me as my throat clears. The illuminating, brown eyes rising, providing tranquillity. Serenity washes over me as the feminine voice lulls “breathe” in a hushed murmur. “Breathe” the soft voice repeats again. My eye flashing open, unblinkingly staring at the naked walls, sweat gathering around my forehead and body. With a fast-beating heart and heavy breathing, I get out of bed and into the bathroom. Splashing water on my face, washing away the last remnants of the nightmare.

Anxiousness simmering inside my body, adrenaline bursting through my veins as I walk to my makeshift painting area. The blank canvas mimicking the end of the dream, creating the image that surfaced in my dream. Itching with dire need to be released and created. The dark sky, transforming into early morning with birds chirping. Not with the times and hours, as I sunk myself into running away from the hallucinating illusion. Turning the heaviness that is left in my body into a state of peace. Finishing the touches of the latest painting I have curated. With the rest of my paintings already in the gallery I am prepared for the exhibition. As I brush the last stroke, I step back exhaling at the wonder that my eyes lay on. As I let it sit for two hours, I begin to shower and get ready to convince the head curator to put this forward with the rest of the art.

Taking an uber to the gallery, my mind lingers on the stranger women I had the seconds with, lightly hoping I will bump into her again. Somehow not being able to forget. Walking with intention as I have reached the entrance, I see Miguel dressed in colourful clothing, an open chested red shirt, black artisan blazer and trousers with unique designs. Miguel was a European Spanish man whom I have met in New York art exhibition in my art gallery. Within seconds we hit it off, talking about the arts culture, our favourite artists and collections. Since then we have stayed in contact with each other and maintained a friendship relation.

He greets me with enthusiastic arm movements as soon as he sees me, eyeing the black bag in my hand. “I need this piece to be included in the exhibition” I demand bluntly. Miguel stares at me, piercing me with emotionless eyes that wants to tell me off for a cold welcome. But he needs to know my seriousness when I don’t have time to play nice. He signals for me to follow him, heading to his office upstairs. Once we have reached, he closed the door behind me, I lay the bag on the empty table, unravelling the painting for Miguel’s eyes. He stands beside me, taking in a sharp breath, without saying another word he turns towards me “is this who I think it is” he questions. Knowing what his underlying words mean “yes” I utter, “this needs to be in the exhibition, it completes the collection perfectly” I continue. With Miguel in deep thought, I shake away the jitters that comes with being patient, suddenly sighing in admission he says “okay, we can make adjustments. She must be beautiful, for you to be bothered like this” he jokes, but his eyes reflecting respect. Miguel was a person who embraced vulnerability, he never let the ego drive him into making his decisions, he enjoyed being in companies that think alike and who are not crippled by their ego, their identity and not being afraid of humanly feelings and desires. So, with him knowing who this was and me wanting to show this painting in public, he valued me and even more so, this friendship because of it.

Taking the painting in his hand, we go downstairs to the floor of the exhibition, placing it in the focal point of the collection, the centre wall. “Do you oppose” he prompts with one raised eyebrow.

“No, absolutely not” I affirm, feeling accomplished knowing the last art had finalised the collection.

Going back to my hotel suite, I make a start to get ready with spending the whole of afternoon in the gallery, preparing and organising the event, time flew by me. With Miguel picking me up for the evening, I pour myself a drink to remove the apprehensiveness that are rising.

Walking into the gallery, bustling with people and photographers. Grabbing champagne in the entryway, studying those who are looking at the art. The best part about being an artist and establishing your painting in art galleries is the anonymity from publicity. With painters, artists, art investors recognising you due to the close-knit community we have formed for ourselves. Diving right in as I start to talk leisurely with interested customers, negotiating prices with their likened art, positive feelings of success surging as one art had been sold. Long black hair in my peripheral vision convincing myself that it is not real and only imaginations that exist from my dream. Informing the staff that this painting has been sold, they begin to discuss buying the art with the costumers. The long-haired stranger stopping at the latest painting, moving closer and deeply analysing it. With my focus strained, I begin to watch her, her form, her skin and the stunning dress pulling me to her place. Instinctively, my feet walk towards her, eyeing the way she moves closer to the painting. Stopping just behind her inhaling a waft of her flowery, vanilla scent “No, it can’t be” I internally whisper to myself. Out of all places. She is here, knowing she felt my presence I move backwards only for her to turn around and bump into me.

Helping to balance her, I place my hand on her lower back. Silky smooth skin burning my fingers alive. Her scent engulfing me, her wide eyes blinking back at me in recognition and in shock. “We need to stop meeting like this” I mutter light-heartedly with a grin, simmering the feelings wanting to surface. “My name is Ezra” I prompt, waiting for her to speak.

She pushes back to maintain distance, “My name is Luna” she begins “you need to stop appearing where I can’t see you” she says. She studies me curiously. Looking at the person who inspired my painting, her alluring, mesmerising eyes, opening her mouth in futile as her words become unspoken.

“This painting was inspired by you” I mumble, “from the last time I saw you to now, I was not able to forget you. You came up in my dreams and you are what I painted. I want you.” I utter in hushed tone.

(Another part. Couldn’t help myself. Writing this got me excited of the prospects. I’m proud of the characters that are coming alive. Writings from a current story. Thank you for reading 😀 ).

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Blog, Love, Story

Short Story

She could hear the waves crashing soothingly against the shore, making it sound like music in her ears, she could smell the beauty of the nature, of the earth tingling her nose. The refreshing smell of air coming through her windows. She had this sudden urge to get up and look out the window, look at the magical scenery.

Slowly, but surely she got out of her bed –  her muscles were not accustomed to movements, She felt as though, being alone was the only way to cope with her grief and sadness, She found it easier to cope with her grief, by pushing people away and isolating herself. It has been 15 years, since it had occurred, and yet, she has not forgotten every single moment of that day yet, what happened that day triggered her and became a barrier to her happiness and joy.

She was walking towards the window, with anticipation. She put her hands shakily on the edge of the windowsill, trying to calm her breathing down (exhaling, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling…..), she opened her sky blue eyes. Trying to catch her breath, however, failing to do so, she could feel her eyes becoming teary, the scenery in front of her was picture perfect. A stray tear fell from her eye, as she didn’t know how to react to the beauty that she was witnessing and the overwhelming emotions surfacing within her – the tension between her heart and mind becoming too much. The waves were still crashing softly and soothingly against the shore, the breeze was calm and was gently caressing her smooth deeply tanned skin. She could feel the tips of her full, plump lips turning upwards to a gentle smile. She looked upwards at the dark sky, feeling mesmerized at how beautiful and scenic the beauty before her was.

She whispered under her breath “how can something so beautiful, even exist in this cruel, dangerous world we live in.”

As she was looking up at the midnight black sky, she could see the stars twinkling, she felt as though she could see her Father and Mother who were scattered in various different places in the dark sky alongside, the other stars. She felt as though, they were there in her presence although, they were not here physically, they were here emotionally and mentally. As she was looking up at the stars, she felt as though the two bright twinkling stars were her Mother and Father, looking down at her proudly and happily, protecting her. The moon was shining brightly, lightly contrasting against the midnight black sky.

She could hear Knox calling her from the bedroom.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Morgan felt her heart skip a beat like it always does, whenever, Knox speaks to her. She still cannot fathom, why after all these years he still stayed and stuck around.

“It felt like, outside was calling me” Morgan replied with a slight smile.

Knox was looking at Morgan the way he always does with: love and pure affection. His dark brown, honeycomb eyes were taking in every inch of her face and body, although, they have been together for 3 years he still looked at her like the first time he seen her, with pure admiration and wonder. He still couldn’t fathom how wonderfully, beautiful she was.

Morgan was a fragile and a young hearted woman although she was strong minded, she was very compassionate and likable, Her eyes had that raw uniqueness, how at certain moments and certain times, her eyes would change shade lighter when the sunlights hits, the irises in her eyes would twinkle every time she smiles or laughs.

Knox walked towards Morgan admiring the two breathtaking views in front of him. Knox softly says “Today is the day Morg, how are you feeling love?”
Morgan replied “I don’t know Knox. But, I am feeling happy. I mean, in this day I was never feeling happy or calm, just distressed and mourn for my Father and Mother to come back. But, today feels different, I can’t explain but, I feel like I have finally accepted the fact that my Father and Mother have left me, when I was 7 years old and are looking up at me from heaven, still protecting me and guiding me to be the best version of myself.”

The amount of joy Knox and Morgan were feeling, were unexplainable, indescribable even if they were happy for different reasons they were ecstatic. Morgan was feeling happy for, she finally found her inner-peace, the acceptance of her Father and Mother’s death, she felt like she can finally move on from what happened 15 years ago. Yes, she was happy with Knox, she was more than happy with him, however, there was still a part of her heart, that was still at her home, the home where she had both her parents – her family.

Where from that day, her life had changed completely upside down, how everything escalated so quickly, that the situation was uncontrollable, she couldn’t grasp what had happened 15 years ago. How her Father and Mother were held at gunpoint and seeing them die in front of her, was all that scarred and destroyed an innocent 7 year old.

Till this day: their death anniversary, she could picture the scene from the back of her head. Coming from a carnival, a beautiful, happy family who had no idea what was going to occur……. BANG BANG BANG! they disappeared. Morgan can still remember, how her Father and Mother were bathing in their own blood. How an innocent young girl watched the universe take everything of hers in a span of a minute. How she felt so confused and so lost. How footsteps surrounded her, people from the neighborhood rushing in to see the chaos, pushing and shoving to see what had happened. Everything happened so rapidly, the whirlwind of emotions that she went through, that consumed her. Scarring her, hurting her, taking her purity and taking away the perspective of the world that she had.  The police sirens blaring loudly almost deafening the silence the she surrounded herself with as she was in denial, in shock. She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know whether to scream till her throat ran dry and till her lungs constricted begging for air or whether to cry. She didn’t know whether to laugh since the world was playing a sick joke on her, She didn’t know whether to stay rooted at her spot or to run away from the madness. She just didn’t know…

After 15 years, she let go……

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Blog, Love

Is There A Right Time For Love?

This question can go out of context. This is the type of question where people may agree or disagree. A question that people can think with an open mind or with a closed mind.

I personally don’t think that love has a perfect moment or perfect time. You can’t really control love or know when love is going to come to you. Majority of the time, when love comes it is unexpected. It can come to you when you are at your lowest points or when you are at your highest points. Sometimes, it comes when you weren’t thinking of being in a relationship or even thinking about feeling that type of emotion for someone.

Is there a right time for love to come? There is not a certain time where love comes, it doesn’t come when you are looking for it, it just happens Metaphorically, you can’t run away from love, you can deny it, but if you are feeling constant emotions that comes whenever you are with that person, you will not be able to deny it, there’s just so much you can do until you have got to accept it. You can say ‘No! I don’t want love, I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel that. I’m not ready for it, I’m not ready to settle down. Don’t give it to me now, it is not the right time for me okay!’ You think loves going to listen to you? No okay, love won’t listen to you, it will do whatever the hell it wants and it will give you that person (that person can either be a curse or a blessing).

It’s like destiny or faith (I believe in that). Everything happens for a reason right? Yeah, what if you were supposed to meet that person? What if there was an actual reason as to why you crossed path with them?

People, for instance, a guy would say ‘I met her at the wrong time, it wasn’t the right time, the timing was all wrong’. But, how do you know when it’s the right time? Usually, when you are looking for love or searching for love it doesn’t come your way and the person that may come can be the wrong person for you. You can’t force love to happen, you can’t force attraction nor can you force feelings. If you are saying that you are waiting for the ‘right time’ then it may never be the right time because you will never be ready. You are not supposed to be prepared for love neither should you look for love.

When love comes it is going to be a complete surprise, completely unexpected. It is going to hit you like a ton of bricks and that is what makes it beautiful. Although, you didn’t plan it or look for the person, the person came and they were right for you. It just depends on whether you are going to take a chance. It’s a choice whether you want to be with the person. There isn’t really a right time or a right moment. There’s never a perfect time, it’s up to you as perfect time is only a perfect time when you create it.

Everyone thinks they know what they want, or what they are doing. Everyone wants to have control of their life, their feelings and who comes into their lives but you can’t.

Don’t be afraid if you think that it’s not the right time, go for it and make mistakes, take risks and make sacrifices. At the end, it will be very unexpected and it may be worth it..

You have everything given to you, it just depends on whether you will take advantage of it and whether you will make the most out of it.

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