Mother's day, do you mean that's all? We only get one day for the 364 days we fall.

You see, we are the lonely soldiers that no one come back to retrieve. We work day in and day out working from our knees. We sacrifice our "nights out with the boys." But we exchange it for cookies and reading night with our pride and joys. One day for mother's is what you say? Well, treat us as Royalty on that special day! Because no other person will stand by your side and wipe your face when you fall or stop the tears that roll down your eyes. Only that women will come and make sure you have cover. Yes, she's the lady next door, the lady at the store, the lady at the

school, she's Your Mother!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY LADIES, You are loved!

For all the times I'm drunk on the idea of New York City and Amsterdam, I long for my small hometown as I reach the bottom of the bottle. I live in a big city now, as Sinatra said, "I [...] wake up in a city that never sleeps." but my parents still live in my hometown, my sister still goes to my high school, and my dreams still take place back home. We took small town football quite literally, playing 6 man football under bright lights. We didn't even have a stadium, it was more of a field, and small bleachers, so most of us were on the sidelines with the team. But don't let that fool you, I can make you want to go back to somewhere you've never been.

You hate it until you miss it. A chilly Friday night with crowds cheering, and you realize, as the warm breeze kisses your skin, you'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world. I'd watch the rolling pastures around us during halftime, wondering how it would feel to sit in that tall grass forever. I'd like to ride down Main at midnight again, go to the square and eat with friends, and smell the scent of home, however weird it might be. I want to return to the small back roads, and watch the sunset as I ride up and down the hills, and open my window at 2 a.m. to watch the moon with my telescope.

Half of us walked away at graduation, never wanting to look back. Some of us just wanted to find ourselves in the world. But my god, my hometown is still made up of the people who cheered at football games and have a soft spot for Texas. My hometown is made up of the village that raised me. They tell me I'm the lucky one, but sometimes, I think I'd give up the high rise apartment for the ranch house overlooking the hills.

I never understood wanting to come back, because I always wanted to get out. I still do, but I want to come back. The truth is, the bright lights become blinding, and the rush becomes dull. The speed makes you dizzy, the wonder becomes scarce and the dream seems farther. I guess I'd like to be like a boomerang, knowing how ever far I go, I'll always return. Sometimes, if you listen closely, and I mean really closely, you'll hear the laughter of people before you. Maybe at the ice cream shop, the local park, or even the Kroger parking lot. If you look closely, you'll see where generations collide and stories unite.

Because you can get halfway around the world and at some point, you'll miss being where everybody knows your name. I think parts of me belong in the far corners of the world, at the tops of mountains, and in small bars in the Irish country side. I do belong in the streets of Amsterdam and in the seas of the mediterainian and the South African cape. But I also belong in the long grass of my High School football fields, I belong to the midnight streets and stars. I belong to my hometown.

We are all hidden warriors

born from the depth of the stars,

and even though our battles are different,

we emerge with all the same scars.

I fight mine with the words I can't say,

etching words of prose into stone.

yelling into the fierce nothingness,

and hoping I am not alone.

I pen my thoughts into flower petals,

and watch quietly as they fall,

leaving me with only a bud,

ready again, to brave it all.

because every time I bleed,

I use the ruby flow as ink,

to write upon this paper,

all the things I think.

I look fondly to the words I've written.

knowing they have loved me once.

and so they will love me again,

even with torn and battered fronts.

Now scars and words alike,

serve as a tapestry from afar,

not just a reminder of your strength

but a map of who you are.

I knew a girl once,

who's eyes held hopeful dreams

made from the breath of stars,

but bursting at the seams.

I watched as her eyes became dull,

as people put her down,

and somewhere along the way,

she lost her rightful crown.

she seemed to be on display,

for people to critique,

blood ran from her smile -

still she turned the other cheek.

and when she finally knew,

that she had had enough,

they told her she was crazy

and that she should be more tough.

when she finally fought back,

after being carved and hollowed out,

they wrote her as a monster,

and cold beyond a doubt.

I remember the hurt in her eyes,

because they're the same as mine,

and here I am years later,

still finding it hard to define.

you see, they tell me that I'm crazy

about the boys and charming men,

so okay, fine I'll stop,

we'll see what happens then.

but now, I'm labeled too picky,

and the boys won't want me now,

I tried to fix what was wrong,

but I'm still not right somehow.

they say, wow, you're too intense,

so I became a little less loud,

but now I'm too ordinary,

and fit too well with the crowd.

I spend my time apologizing

for things I never did,

and burying pieces of me,

that I so quickly hid.

So I'm sorry for the things I am,

and all the things I'm not,

and I hope someday in the future,

I'll be all the things I forgot.

Tonight's the night to wear my fangs.

To knock at the doors with all my gangs.

To gather on candy and sweets and things.

To see what mischief the night will bring.

As we walk to doors in gangs of ten,

I see witches, and ghosts, and little minion men.

I see characters and gremlins and big boogie bears.

I see police and firemen and kids with big hair.

I see transformers, and angels, and devils, and such.

This is Halloween night, and I love it so much.

As the night fades away and it's time to retire.

Our candy is looked over, some thrown in the fire.

But not a bad hall for a night of good cheer.

I can't wait for Halloween to return next year.

"Anything else, dear?"

Sabrina politely refused Mrs Taylor's offer with that sweet smile that could only belong to her. It was that gracious giggle that made the young lady famous in town, even when she rarely appeared down here. Her house is somewhere near the woods, the young boys say. It was the sole thing her father left her with, says the older fellas in the armchairs. And yes, to have stories told about you can be exciting. But not always.

"Oh, and I could use a broom, Mrs Taylor. The old one leaves more dust than it sweeps."

And that was the moment when everything changed. Mrs Taylor, who had been busy totalling all the prices despite her poor mathematical skills, gazed up at her in shock. The young boy, fiddling around with the worn-out bicycle tires, stood still as his tires rolled down the stairs to the harbour. The senior gentleman, busy scanning the papers beside her, no longer cared about the headlines. Clearly, they just beheld the beginnings of the forthcoming big news in town.

Even as Sabrina left the store, no longer wearing her adorable smile, she could feel the stares. How can someone feel those eyes? She doesn't know, but those eyes pierced right through her skin. The broom stood projected out of her little jute basket, and no one hid their suspicions as she walked to the edge of the town. Sabrina could hear the faint whispers amidst the cacophonies of the busy street. And for some reason, she knew they were talking about her.

Sabrina walked a little faster, feeling a growing sense of uneasiness clawing about her insides. Unfortunately, this only adds to the suspicions of the piercing eyes. She could now hear their breath. Perhaps if the town was quieter, she could have listened to their heartbeats too. Soon enough, she could hear the footsteps following her in stealth, closing in for the day's prey.

And before Sabrina could restrain herself, her legs took off, attempting their best to carry their keeper to the safety of her home. The jute basket slipped off into the gutter, soaking her favourite cookies in the swamp. But she couldn't care any less.

Of course, the home could not keep her safe. But sometimes, it seems to be the solution to everything. Returning home. But in those nefarious eyes, it was no longer a home. It was a coven. And Sabrina, a witch. Their prey. The one to burn while they relax and watch.

********

"Burn her." There never was much Sabrina could do. Apparently, the young man, whose love she refused, had seen her cooking potions. Smoke billowing out of her little coven. And another little girl who had seen her in her nightmares. All she could do was beg, and she did. But the men took the decision for the Gods, and how could she prove them wrong?

The young man was smirking as she got carried away by the relentless guards. The little girl sneaked behind her mother, unwilling to listen to the pleads of a witch. One day, they might take her away too. She doesn't know. In the name of God, they say. How could one kill an innocent girl in the name of God?

She doesn't know, but as she felt the fire melting her skin, she realised it. Her father loved the legends of the lost kings and their declining realms. They perch helplessly on their thrones when the Wicked takes over. In the name of the King, they say. But the King would have long lost his hopes on bringing happiness back to his kingdom. He just shuts his eyes and says it's dark. Sabrina wouldn't blame him. There wasn't much he could do.

Even as the young lady could feel Life doing its best to hold on to her, she was perplexed. Who was more terrifying? The King or the Wicked?

########

I got a long explanation to make, haven't I? *innocent lauughter* Well, to start off, I am in college! As if that justifies everything XD Well, I messed up. I guess that's pretty evident when it's about me *facepalm* But yeah. Well, technically, life messed up way better than I did this time around, so I guess I did okay XD Anyway, I will try to come up more often from now on. And yes, this story will (from now on) hold the record of the fastest story I have ever written ^-^ It took me about... an hour? An hour and a half? Well, definitely not a week or longer, as it normally is XD I hope you guys like the story. Missed you all too much!!! Warm hugs everywhere ^0^ <3 <3 <3

#fiction, not the last part (:

It’s been a while since I saw your smile

I’ve walked a lonely road

So many lonely miles

I didn’t get to hold you one more time

You didn’t get to show me one more smile

No lullabyes, no kiss goodnight

No “dry your eyes ’cos, hey, ev’rything’s gonna be alright”

Well, I don’t know where Heaven lies

But I’ll meet you there in time

They say time heals

Well, what do they know?

The heart that grieves is like the river that flows

We didn’t get to say what’s on our minds

We didn’t get to do so many things

No nursery rhymes, no kiss goodbye

A few photographs are all I have of your short life

Well, I don’t know where Heaven lies

But I’ll meet you there in time

It’s been a while since I saw your smile

I’ve walked a lonely road

So many lonely miles

Baby died at seventeen

Didn’t realise a single dream

Daddy cried, poor thing

Couldn’t see the point in anything

Without Ba__a__a__a by

Mommy tried to bring him round

Said Baby was with Jesus now

But he didn’t hear a thing

We’ve got a long way to go

There’s a long road ahead

But we’ve got a whole box of wishes that are gonna come true

And I‘ve got a pocketful of stars

That I’m going to put back into your eyes

So that when you smile

You’ll out-shine Mr Moo_______n

There’s a battle ahead

And I’m gonna fight it with you

Remember all the things we said we’re gonna do?

And if you look down deep inside

That’s where Mr Courage hides

And when tears sting your eyes

He’ll come out for you_________

We’ve got a long way to go

There’s a long road ahead

But we’ve got a whole box of wishes that are gonna come true_____

Mommy, please don’t make me sit in that dark room

Please, don’t lock the door I promise I won’t scream

And, when you say you hate the thought of

Everything I’m part of

Mommy, who am I just like?

What do you mean?