Inked: Thoughts to Words

Behind Santa Clause (Dark Version)

He sees you when you’re sleeping

He knows when you’re awake

He knows if you’ve been bad or good

So be good for goodness sake

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I’m telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town

Young Mary’s eyes shot open as soon as she heard the creaking sound of the floorboards. Her big blue eyes scanned her dark room for any sign of movement.

Nothing.

Yet, she could hear something. Suddenly, excitement filled her heart as she remembered what day tomorrow was going to be: Christmas! The joyous time of the year. And who could be downstairs? Santa, of course!

She climbed down her bed, putting on her Spongebob slippers as she headed for her door. She reached up, and was able to turn the doorknob by running her fingertips on the shiny knob. Her door squeaked a little, but barely audible, and made her way through the dark hallway of their house. She could see the Christmas lights, blinking, almost shading the staircase with rainbow colors.

She headed downstairs; avoiding any sound as much as possible for it might scare Santa away. The blinking of the Christmas lights was her only source of light so she had to wait for every turn that it blinked.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the staircase. She ran silently to the living room and to her surprise, found a large old-man wearing a Santa suit, putting a gift under the tree.

“Santa!” she exclaimed, running towards him excitedly.

But as the man turned around to face her, Mary’s smile faded into fear.

He had bloodshot eyes, his beard was stained with blotches of blood. He flashed a one-sided smile at her, “You saw me, little Mary. Now I have to kill you,” he said, crisply. He took the girl by her head and pulled it hard enough to separate it from her body.

“You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I’m telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town!”

Santa Clause sang as he threw her head into his bag, together with the other heads he had collected that night.

Beautiful Awakening

How would I know that we’d all end up here—in this big, beautiful Church? if you had told me this story ten years ago, I would have just snorted and tell you that you were out of your mind. Why? Because never in a million years would I have imagined that I would be watching my best friend getting married.

Ten years ago, from this day, Mike, Jason and I were watching our favorite movie “500 Days of Summer”. I know, some of you may think it was a lame movie…..or most of you are thinking, “What is THAT?”

Yes, during our time, that movie wasn’t a big hit in the screens. Apparently, only a handful of people have gone through the stages of Summer and Tom. Fortunately, we weren’t one of those people. Unfortunately, we were becoming one.

Mike, Jason and I met in school when I was only eight years old. Jason was seven-and-a-half back then, while Mike was ten. Both of us, Jason and I, looked up to his big brother Mike. He was “the big kid” of our neighborhood. He was still kind of mean back then, Mike, I mean. He had this big-kids group he called “The Avengers”. Back then, we didn’t know what it meant, so Jason and I would call the “The Big Kids”. Not so original now, is it?

When we were in fourth grade, Jason and his brother Mike (who was 6th grade that time) started hanging out in my backyard. I don’t really remember why Mike started hanging out with us, but I guess it’s because at that time, we were considered as big kids as well, Jason and I, while Mike’s “The Avengers” died down because three of them transferred schools.

By fifth grade, Jason started acting strange. He rarely hung out with Mike and I, and usually, he kept his distance. Finally, during that summer, he told me he was in love with me. But we were kids back then, and we agreed that it was stupid. Mostly, for my benefit, because I wasn’t exactly looking for anything back then. I was “one of the boys”….and I thought that the fact Jason sees me that way…was gross. Totally gross.

A few years after that, we reached college. At that time, Mike was already studying in Harvard as a Business student. Jason followed his brother’s footsteps but switched to Law a few months upon entering. I, on the other hand, went to study in Le Cordon Bleu in Boston. Since our schools were just a few hours away, we hung out in a pub called Jerry’s.

By that time, we kind of became a big “blob” of friends. Whenever we enter the pub, we were known as “Jason, Mike and Cammie” or “those kids”. Even when were were all almost-professionals, we were still “the kids”. But by that time, Jason was going out with my best friend in college, Marian.

Usually, Mike and I tagged along when they went on dates. Since Marian was the shy-type, we’d usually call in “hanging out” instead of ‘date”. Little did I know that behind my back, Jason and Mike called it ‘double dating”.

I don’t know when Mike started liking me that way….or how I never noticed it. Because it was obvious, now that I think of it. But it was just a fling. Soon, Mike backed off…knowing that I didn’t see him “in that way”. I was still “one of the boys”…only, the boys started seeing me “that way”. Still, I remained silent, treating them as my brothers, considering I never had siblings.

And now, as I walked down the beautifully-decorated isle of this big Church, I start to wonder how we ended up this way. The veil shaded my sight, almost a little bit, but I could see both my best friends at the end of the isle. They were both grinning, excited to see me.

Today, I am getting married. And not just that…married to my best friend. I never knew I’d see one of them get married; little did I know I was going to be the bride.

I stopped in front of them. Jason and Mike smiled at me, “You look great,” they said at the same time; obviously, rehearsing it a few minutes ago. I grinned, “thanks,buds.”

Finally, I took my almost-husband’s arms as his brother pat my back, “Congratulations,” he whispered to us.

Orange Moon.

I stared at the moon. Tonight, the moon was unusually orange, and it made me think that this may be a sign. It’s been a month since the car crash and so far, according to my dad, I haven’t remembered a single thing.

“Why is the moon orange tonight?” I thought out loud.

The boy beside me—a boy who claimed to be someone I trusted the most, and someone who—for the first time, according to my dad—I loved, shrugged, “Don’t know.”

“But,” he quickly added, “remember the time I walked you home for the first time?”

I paused. “No, I don’t.” “As usual,” I thought to myself.

He stared at me and smiled, but I could see his hidden surprised look, behind those hazel eyes. “You don’t? Well, I was walking you home and you asked me the exact same question,” he returned his attention to the moon.

And suddenly, just suddenly, I asked him, “Are you sure I was the girl you were with that time?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He had this frantic look in his eyes—as if I hit a bull’s-eye. “Yeah,” he said slowly, as if trying to remember.

I may have this amnesia right now. But I sure know how to tell if a person is lying or not. I bet I wasn’t even in this country yet when he saw that orange moon.

Okay, so tonight, the moon was bright orange and I HAD to write this to commemorate. I LOVE orange…and it’s awesome that the moon finally decided to turn into a color that’s awesome :)

Where untold stories come to die

He silently walked towards me as I took a few steps back until my back hits the wall. I was cornered. He slammed both his hands against the wall,caging me between them. He towered over me. I never noticed how tall he was until now, because I’ve always belittled him. I never knew how scary his eyes could get.

“What do you want me to do, Amber?” he whispered, but his voice shook with anger.

I looked down to my feet again. What did I want him to do? How did we get to this point, anyway?

“One day you act like this is all going to work out but the next day, you just ignore me like I’m some kind of a freak,” he said. He leaned towards me, this time, and resting his head on my shoulder, “what hurts is that you do these things to me without feeling anything.”

But I do. I do feel something. I just couldn’t say it. Why can’t he just understand that some thoughts can’t be put to words?

He sighed, “I’m no psychic, Amber,” he whispered to my ear, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter again, “I’m not.”

Hey, y’all! Welcome to my page: where untold stories come to die. The entry up there was composed within 10 minutes so pardon me for the crap-ness.

The reason why I decided to make this blog is because I have so much scenarios in my head everyday and they’ve always been up here since I learned what “fan-fictions” meant. You may be familiar with my writing style if you have been a huge fan of Anime fanfictions (since I’ve written in fanfiction.net 8 years ago).

I’ve posted my stories THROUGHOUT the internet: fanfiction.net, opera.com (which I think was already bought by another website so my account was canceled) and livejournal.com.

In my life, I’ve only finished TWO stories which I wrote in Opera.com…but as I’ve said, sadly, they canceled my account so “sayonara” to my stories.

Anyway, let’s see how this goes and maybe I can open this blog to the public so people can post up THEIR untold stories :)