The Door and the Knife: Part 1

Another corpse in the corner. Evangeline walked past it, eyes firm on the locked door ahead. By now she had grown used to the dead bodies. That part of the city had a notorious reputation at nights. Thugs and addicts lunged at each other only to find their opponent weak and poor like themselves.

Every step brought her closer to that door. Metal chains held its hinges, while some odd letters marked thr door. This wasn’t the first time Evangeline had been inside, yet fear seized her every time that door appeared before her. Dark thoughts crossed her mind and made her hesitate. “I’m not afraid. He’s there unarmed after all. I have to do it.” A curl of dark hair blocked her eyes and she brushed it aside and unlocked the door.

A stench of a thousand dead fish wafted through the room. Old curtains with ants stuck on them, crumbs and broken plates on the floor and a intoxicating smell of vodka and earth dominated the hellish room. 

Mark hadn’t heard the door open and was still abed, immune to his sister’s furtive entrance. She skid past his bed to a chest of drawers laid aside in the far corner of the room. Somehow the earlier stench wasn’t so present here. Evangeline glanced sideways at the body of Mark. Her dark brown eyes narrowed and her teeth clenched so much she thought they would break. If only she could choke his bloody neck. Make hin suffer as he made her. Mark had murdered Chris, the only person who understood and loved her. A haven from her once caged life. She quickly set that thought aside and focused on the task at hand.

When she clung open the first drawer a mouse shrieked and hopped to the ground. She stilfed a yelp and went on. There were no guns as she had predicted. Torn clothes, drugs, packs of cigarettes but no sign of the knife. “He must have hid it well.” When Evangeline’s lover was murdered she knew right away his killer. She felt no vestige of love for him nor compassion for his mental illness. Just because some people some people can get mad very easily that doesn’t justify their actions.

Despite her rummaging that knife was nowhere to be found. Evangeline kicked his bed in despair, yet Mark wasn’t startled. He slept like a log, his right hand clenched to the pillow as if it were a teddy bear he was afraid to loose. When she eyed his figure old memories resurfaced. Back when all children would mock him for being a shrimp. Mark’s body grew with a slow but steady pace. Evangeline used to ran after those kids, whilst he sat cross-armed, weeping under the ceiling of an oak. She then went near him and patted his shoulder. Mark tried not to cry at her presence, yet Evangeline always knew the pain his heart carried. They used to be beasties. Now they loathe each other. Why so much hate?

Time had passed and she dashed outside. She spit at Mark’s direction before that, wishing it could affect him somehow. The knife had probably been hid elsewhere. For all she knew Mark was no fool, especially when it came to knives and drugs. How he could live in that slum was beyond her. Even if Evangeline was no angel she could never get close to that shabbiness, both soul and life.

The fresh air was a nice change for her nostrils. She took a deep breath, relishing the oxygen and trying to relax. She would do anything to find that knife and incarcerate her brother. Killing him seemed too simple and without any amount of the pain he inflicted on her. Mark imprisoned would be a sight for sore eyes though. Just the sight of him manacled and weak solaced her fast-pounding heart. Like all things Evangeline had put her mind to, that thought would come true no matter the obstacles.

End of Part 1

Part 2 here soon!!!

Prey Of Heart

You were young, beautiful but so intrepid. Your heart was flowing with rage and you chose the easy path. Revenge. Most would have done the same albeit unwilling to admit it. When a human being has love he is capable of marvellous things. There is nothing on his way to glory! But what happens when he has no good will? You thought like many before you that vengeance would redeem your soul. Perhaps it might also take some of that sorrow away. My poor chap, think more when you act under such woe! Sometimes we have to mute our hearts.

Ignite the lamp

Ignite the lamp please,                                   for light vanished from our sky.                 All folks are gloomy again                               and the world bereft of roads.

We can’t survive without it.                           Light was there when we came,                     and it’s not fair to leave                                   without saying goodbye.

Ignite the lamp sir,                                           you can do it and must.                                   If you still hesitate,                                           think of your hopeless brethren.

The moon got free from the night.               Nobody knows where it’s hidden now,         thus all colours fade away                               when the sun leaves.

Ignite the lamp madame.                                 Don’t you have children to feed?                   If so heed well my warning,                           and let them have warmth at least.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

I haven’t seen the movie but after its release the book got a lot of traffic and interest. That’s why I decided to delve into Charlie’s world and see the struggles and perks of being a wallflower.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is a coming-of-age story. Its main character is Charlie who as the book starts is 15 years old and about to enter high school. There he meets Sam and Patrick who become his best friends. Sam is a very pretty, cheerful person and pretty soon Charlie falls in love with her. On the other hand Patrick is witty and homosexual. The book explores a wide range of themes such as Adolescence, Sexuality, Identity, Friendship as well as Introversion and Family Dramas.

For starters, it’s page-turning. Something always happens in Charlie’s or his friends’ lives. Chbosky also seems to understand teenagers and all the problems and dilemmas they have to deal with in a unique and natural way. He highlights the importance of friendship and how much it affects our lives. In Charlie’s case his friends trigger thoughts and sensations he had never felt before.

In addition, something that stayed with me was the friendship of Bill and Charlie. It shows that teenagers can have real relationships with their students and really care for them outside the classroom. The fact that the book is narrated in letters send by the protagonist to an anonymous friend is inspiring. It helps us understand more the inner world of Charlie even if I personally didn’t.

The main problem is that Charlie is no wallflower at all. I’m not sure if he is even shy as for the most part he seems to lack self-consciousness and have no trouble with social interactions. His development wasn’t so great either. Tobacco, alcohol and LSD permeate through his life with no resistance. In many ways he resembles Holde Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye, a likeness that gets more intense by the end of the story.

Moreover, I don’t believe Charlie is gifted at reading books as Bill thinks he is. Even if that’s the case we can’t know it for he never shows any of his reports or share his opinions about all those books. A lot of times his writing gets very juvenile and most depressing. We may learn snippets of information regarding his background, yet not what exact mental illness he has. Lastly, I think that other than Sam most characters were insipid and predictable.

I’ve seen mostly very positive reviews and feel somewhat guilty for not liking it so much as I had expected. It’s chiefly aimed at teenagers due to its themes but could be read by anyone. Everyone has been young after all. I hope you manage to understand how Charlie thinks better than I did.




Road                                                                                                                                                       Path                                                                                                                                                         Victory
Road                                                                                                                                                       Friends                                                                                                                                               Amenity
Road                                                                                                                                                       Life                                                                                                                                                   History


Merry Howls

Your eyes are the trigger. And I scream. I scream not from fear but joy. When I scream my voice strives to find the rhythm of you. It desperately wants to get you but can’t. Nothing can ever reach you on earth. Nothing can see past your heart, that sublime part that even angels envy. Mind you though, I may never seize you in my hands, feel the warmth of nature itself in your body but I won’t give up. My howl indicates not my lupine intentions. What it shows you refuse to see for it’s my love for thee.

The Green Veil

It all began with a fire. Her whole life was violently taken away. Every dream she had perished. All who loved her were still on her side though. They tried to make her accept her new reality. But how could a woman at the dawn of her bloom accept a distorted face?

Once she shone like diamond. She was kind and extroverted, filled with humour. Some might had thought she was strong enough for this challengd. Nobody is really. We all have weaknesses and scars, some just choose to lock them inside their hearts. Many would be appalled by the sight, if only they had access to another’s soul.

The dejected woman shut herself in, yet never became a pariah. Even if lots of people would gossip about her, others were eager to meet her. She rejected them all and her time was spent on books and cooking. Two things disconnected with other human beings. Activities that couldn’t remind her of what she feared. Books can’t judge you, but allow you entrance no matter who you might be. Whenever she went outside, a dark green veil would cover her face. Those times she went only to God’s home, hoping for salvation and forgiveness.

That woman didn’t live with her parents for her mother had died long ago and her father had married again. The cottage she lived in was small but very comfy and with a stunning garden. Every time she looked at it old memories would come to light. Her first kiss took place in that garden. There behind those tulips! She had long abandoned all hopes of love and happiness, yet that garden stood firm and she would tend to it late at night when the streets were empty. 

One day a new man came to town. He was a psychologist and had moved out there in order to seek and examine a broader range of patients. Nobody knew where he came from but he was living alone and wore no wedding ring. A profound interest arose in him when during his first visit at the church he first saw the woman with the green veil. At once he approached her and tried to learn more about her condition. The woman thinking that he was making fun of her didn’t answer his questions but dashed out of the church. Tears trickled down her cheeks. As she left for home the veiled woman wished she didn’t have to see people again.

In the afternoon she had visitors. It was that man. He had learned her address and wanted to apologise. Only know did the woman took a closer look at her alleged mocker. She noticed his eyes. They were friendly, honest and very alluring. How long it had been since she had seen such eyes fixed on her!

She let him in, even though she was still angry. That man didn’t stay for long. He offered her psychological treatment and help so she wouldn’t have to be ashamed of her face. He assured her that nobody would know of it and she accepted. The woman remarked how soothing his voice was, his manners. Things she yearned for. That day she didn’t know it but the veiled woman had fallen in love. When everything had fallen apart he appeared out of nowhere to help her. Like light replacing darkness, when the latter is too weary to go on.

Their meetings were five times a week. At first there wasn’t much progress but they got on very well. She always had cakes and meals cooked for him albeit her culinary skills were by no means superb. However there was one problem. She didn’t want to let go of her green veil. Even if he told her that everything would be ok in the end she was adamant. That lasted till one day he threatened to leave and never return. She got hysterical and pleaded him to stay with her as there was nobody else on her side. He turned to go and that’s when the woman doffed her green veil and looked at hin.

Her face wasn’t utterly destroyed as she believed it was. Most of the damage revolved around her throat and chin. He studied her for a split second and then kissed her. That’s when he understood his love for her and to his eyes her face seemed perfect. During that kiss the womab cried, yet those tears were made of joy. It had never occured to her that somebody would love her again.

He told her that he loved her and found no blemish but goodness and a smooth nature under her fears of being judged. The woman promised to cope with her fear which wasn’t plain sailing, yet with him on her side she felt a power she had never experienced before. Maybe that power was there all along but she never sought it nor believed she was capable of it.

By and by the woman managed to become a part of local community and make new friends. The best part was that almost nobody judged her for those scars but found her charming and gorgeous.

 The psychologist and the once veiled woman got married, had a couple of children and lived a long, peaceful live in that town. That green veil wasn’t thrown away. It was kept to remind her of her inner power but she never wore it again.