“Nick, stop!” Jane screamed as she followed Nick, who was running madly in the streets.

Nick had avoided getting hit by a car several times, but there is nothing that showed he will certainly remain alive if he continues running.

Jane ran recklessly, avoiding buildings and road signs, and tripped. 

She shrieked. She tried to stand up, but her ankle was too swollen. She cried, screamed in pain, and tried finding a way to stand up again but it was useless. She cried a little more and when she lifted her head, she saw a hand extended towards her, there to help her get up. It was Nick. 

“I can’t stand up,” she said.

“Stand on one foot. I’ll carry you.” 

He carried her all the way to the nearest bench and they both sat there. 

“I called an ambulance. They’ll take care of you,” he said.

Jane was silent. 

“Jane, I…”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m furious. Why in the fucking world would you run like this?” 

“Jane, I was running away because it was the only way.” 

“The only way for what?” she asked.

“This might sound illogical, but it’s the only way to avoid facing my problems. I thought of running as far as I can, running away from it all. I couldn’t stand it, I was going insane.”

Jane sat there silent. 

She said, a little calm now, “Nick, you have no idea what it’s like to have to deal with something that kills you inside.”

“I think I do. All of what I’m facing right now proves that I do,” he said.

“There’s something I need to tell you…” 

“Nick,” she continued, “I…I am jealous and selfish.” 

“You? Selfish? Jealous? How does that even make sense?”
He looked surprised.

“I am fucking jealous of Rosie. I can’t handle the way she gets everyone to like her, nor the way her hair has volume in all the right places, nor the way she aces all her courses, nor the way she’s so good at everything she does, nor the way she took you away from me.”

Jane paused. Nick seemed to be puzzled.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he said, “Take me away from you? Where’s that coming from? You were always okay with me sometimes hanging out with other people.” 

“I thought I was but, Nick, I can’t stand seeing you so happy with her. What happened to Nick and Jane? The incredible duo? Our laughs? Our memories? Our late-night conversations?”

“Nothing has changed,” he continued.

“Oh, it has changed a lot. Nick, I apologized the first time for trying to pull you and Rosie apart but it is killing me inside. I can’t do anything but smile, but in reality, my heart is being torn into a million pieces.”

“I’m selfish because I want you all to myself, Nick Dawson. I don’t like it when Rosie interrupts our chats, when you talk about how much fun you two are having together. In fact, that breaks my heart.” 

“…It breaks my heart to see you so happy with someone else.” 

Nick remained silent, looked Jane in the eyes, and grabbed her hands.

“Jane, you are the most important person in my life. I would never want to make you feel unwanted or left out or replaced.”

“Well, you did.” 

“Would you let me finish? I have to remind you how special you are to me. And there’s only one way to do it…”

Nick was interrupted by the sound of thunder. The lightning blinded them for a second, and the rain started pouring heavily. 

“Looks like the universe wants to make things special,” Nick said with a smile.

“What’s happening?” 

“Grab my hand. I’m going to sweep you off your feet.” 

“You want to dance?” said Jane, “I can’t stand up.” 

“You don’t have to,” he said.

Nick immediately carried her in his arms and twirled her around about five times, and enjoyed every second her scared laugh.

He put her back on the bench, and she said, “I can’t believe you would spin me like that! Why would you do that?” 

“I want to hear you laugh. I want to hear you scream and hold me tightly because you’re afraid you’d fall. I want to hear you yell at me to put you down. I want to hear your breath as you try to calm down from all the spinning. I want you to love me again.” 

“I love you, Nick, you know that.” 

“The feeling is mutual. Now, anything else I could do for you before the ambulance gets here? It’s about time it arrives.” 

“Well, there is one thing…”

“Name it.”

“Hold me tightly, and protect me from the pouring rain. Hold my hand, and say you won’t let go, even during our darkest times. A promise for our friendship.” 

“Anything you want, milady.” 

He hugged her tightly and kissed the back of her hand. She blushed and they both admired the rain and looked at how wet their clothes got until the ambulance finally showed up. 


Civil War

I joined the army because I thought that was what real men were supposed to do. Real men protect and serve. Real men defend their nation. Real men fight for their women and children. Real men don’t get hurt. Real men die and are remembered as martyrs.


I stepped into the base. I noticed the macho guys doing their push-ups, climbing, crawling, escaping barbed wires, and behaving like “real men”. I could feel them looking at me, mocking my skinny physique, judging me. A few seconds later, I looked forward and saw nothing else but a mountain in front of me. That mountain was known as the Sergeant. He was around 6 feet tall, with a body perhaps a hundred times more muscular than mine, if not more.

He introduced himself as Sergeant Morris. He yelled instead of speaking normally, and he spat in our faces. He had a Crucifix tattooed on this upper arm, and he repeatedly roared, “WE FIGHT IN THE NAME OF THE POWERFUL UNITED STATES OF AMERICA” and spat a little more with ever yell.

“You,” he pointed at me, “Introduce yourself, beanstalk.”

I stepped forward and opened my mouth, but couldn’t even say my name. A shivering voice finally came out, “Roger Matthews, Sir.”

He grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me around, and pushed me back to where I was first standing. The other men laughed.

I had troubles climbing the ropes, breaking free from traps, or doing anything that required physical strength. Every night I would lie in bed, bruised and scarred, praying to God and asking Him if I made the right choice. I got no answers from Him, just a remark from one of the guys in the bunk telling me to shut up. And when I whispered my prayers, I would receive a pillow as hard as concrete to the face. Last night, one of the guys undressed me while I was asleep. I can hardly figure out how he knew I was a very heavy sleeper, but he knew. I woke up the next day, without any pants on and shirtless. I shrieked. They started telling me that I was sleepwalking, and other crap of the sort. They belittled me, spat in my face, threw their dirty clothes at me, turned me into their doormat. I was despised.

I trained harder every day, cursing every second I spent in this hell, and finding new ways to run away from being “accidentally” punched in the face by one of the guys. I eventually was able to climb the rope and jump from the top of the cement wall, but I still had to master the art of holding a weapon. I hesitated at first, because I’ve always been a pacifist, you might say, but Sergeant Morris threatened to make my life even more miserable than it was at first if I don’t shoot at the target.


I shot clumsily but somehow the bullet struck the center of the target, exactly. The sergeant lifted me, suffocating me a little, called it a congratulations hug, and said that I have evolved well. He patted my shoulder. It hurt for three days.

The weeks passed by and that was when we were told that the times of safety were over. Our opponents had trespassed all of the borders. It’s time to confront the enemy.

“Roger! Leopold! Francis! Get your weapons ready!”

We ran to the tank. I didn’t know what to feel. Now began the moment of survival.

The tank was moving quickly, and all of us soldiers were being thrown from side to side inside it. None of us was able to sit still, we were all worried. The tank stopped and we all got off.

“Run for your life,” I told myself. “They hate you. I guess it’s every man for himself.” I was running madly, trying to breathe with every step I took. I found this huge rock I could hide behind, and luckily avoided being shot in the leg.

“Great, not only am I probably going to die today, but I also nearly lost a leg. It was close, Matthews. Really close,” I thought.

I ran.

I hid behind an abandoned house and tried catching my breath. That was when I saw the enemy. Without noticing, Leopold stood next to me. “What are you doing?” he said, “Shoot!” he barked in my ear.

“I can’t kill, Leopold. I just can’t!”

“Do you want to come out alive, or do you want to perish?! Shoot!”

Leopold grabbed my arm, put his hand on top of mine, and made my finger pull the trigger. The soldier was shot in the back. I couldn’t believe it…I had just killed a man. I witnessed his blood pouring out. I saw his last movement; he moved a finger. The man was dead. I had just killed a man.

Leopold carried me back to the tank, shouted something about me to Sergeant Morris, and joined the battlefield again. Sergeant Morris reprehended me, but I didn’t listen; I was traumatized. I had just killed a man who, like me, was in the army to defend his nation, to be a real man.

We fought for months, barely making it out alive every day. As the war came to an end, it was clear that few were the men who remained alive. I was running recklessly, but the enemy shot me. I was shot in the head. The last thing I saw was Leopold crying.

Look, God. The war is over, but he didn’t taste victory. He fought for his country. He protected and served. He could have helped his country by becoming a writer, but no. He died during the war but, sadly, he was not really remembered.

Hey, America, is he a real man to you?


Inspired by the movie Hacksaw Ridge.

A Conversation – II

“Nick! Wait for me!”

Jane was following Nick as he was madly walking in the street.

“I don’t want to talk right now, okay?” yelled Nick.

“Nicolas Joseph Dawson, stop right now!”

Nick stopped walking. I’m not really sure if that’s effect of hearing your full name being called out.

“Why are you so furious?” asked Jane.

“I’m sick of all of you. Each and every single one of you. You tell me to go and find the one I love, and when I do, none of you supports it.”

“Nick, stop. Stop yelling. I have something to tell you…”

“What the hell do you have to say?”

“I did try to pull you and Rosie apart. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“Why in the bloody hell would you do that?! You! Of all people!” screamed Nick.

“That’s because you were ignoring me you fucking jerk!”

“Me?! Ignoring you?! I would never!”

“Oh yeah? When I ask about your day and plans, or simply text you ‘good night’, you don’t answer?!”

Nick let his head go back and then drop forward. He let out a sigh.

“Jane, you know I’m busy…”

“Busy? Busy. Okay, so just tell me how about explaining to me that you’re busy instead of just leaving me hanging like that?!”


“No, wait, I’m not done. I can’t believe you would do that. After six years of friendship and promises, that’s how you’re acting with me. Nick, I….I love you.

“Jane, Jane. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I didn’t think that it would bother you so much. I…”

She shut her eyes and said, “Of course you didn’t think it through.”

She tried to walk away, but Nick held her arm and turned her around. They were looking at each other, eye-to-eye.

“Let me finish. Jane, not talking to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’m so sorry. The thing is, Rosie is the jealous type. So I couldn’t make her feel unwanted. I really like her, so please understand what position I’m in. I’m so so sorry.”

Jane was speechless. Never had she thought Nick would be the kind of boyfriend who’d go out of his -say- way for someone else.

“It’s okay,” she finally said.

“I’ll try not to ignore you anymore. Friends don’t do that to each other. Best friends don’t do that to each other either, and they add hugs. Thank you for forgiving me. Come here.”

They hugged.

“I forgive you, yeah. But I still can’t believe you’d ignore me like that. You’ve never been so distant.”

“I can’t stand not talking to you or feeling like I’ve been replaced in your life,” said the inner voice inside her head. 


— Random thoughts ahead —

Just once, I want someone to tell me how much I mean to him/her. You see, I tend to always remind people of how important they are to me.

when I receive no messages all day, I realize how busy everyone is, how I’m always the one who starts the conversations, and how I force people into conversation. That sucks.

It’s sad to see that I’m ready to cross the desert for someone who wouldn’t cross the backyard on a hot summer day for me.

I want to sit by the beach at night and have deep conversations with someone. Anyone.

I want to gather all my closest friends and sit on the roof with them while listening to good music.

Someday, I’ll turn my bedroom into my own art studio.

Honestly, I noticed how happy people get when I compliment them or remind them of how awesome they are. I should do that more often.

I want people to know how much I love and care.

Damn, I look good today.

I love people who hug you tightly like there’s no one watching.

Every girl needs a guy best friend.

I want to be more self-confident, and even though I am getting there, looking at my flaws makes me believe I’ll never make it.

People who don’t leave you hanging without any reason are people who deserve warm hugs and respect.

I think you know how much I care about you and how valuable you are to me, I just hope you feel the same way.

I really need to make some good plans before summer ends.

Warm hugs are the best.

People are very confusing. I wish there were some way to make things clearer and make words easier to say.

Sometimes, I’m in that “feelings? No, thanks.” mood.

Meet new people. It’s good for you.

God, I want to take a moment to thank You for absolutely everything. My life, my family, my friends, my talents and Your eternal love and forgiveness.




She was born. She was raised. She was given whatever she wanted. You gave her so much.

You worked day and night and hour after hour to bring out the best for her life. When she woke up, you were already up. When she went to bed, you were still up. You made sure she never slept without being covered with a blanket. You made sure she always slept in the correct position.

When she came back from school, you had lunch already prepared. You never forced her to eat something she didn’t want to try. Some told you that what you did was spoiling her, but you never listened. Her happiness came first. You always knew that she’ll grow up and eventually change.

When she was sick, you never left her side. Medicine after medicine, tissue box after tissue box, clean shirt after clean shirt. You never left.

You sat beside her whenever she was doing her homework, and you never punished her because of a bad grade.

She grew up. She had now the right to make her own decisions. She has decided to work hard, just the way you taught her.

The years passed by, and she graduated. The lady you have been waiting to see was standing right in front of you. She delivered a farewell speech, and before you knew it, she was off to college.

She paid you visits, and everything was absolutely fine….except one day she said, “Mom, I never asked you this but, why do you have to wear this bandana? Are you hiding your hair? You’ve been doing that for the past seven years and I never had the courage to ask you why.”

You smiled, with tears filling up your eyes. And finally, you said, “My dear, I now see that you’ve gathered the courage to ask me about my hair. I didn’t have the courage to tell you this little secret…but I think, since we’re admitting things, I have to say it.”

“….what is it, Mom?”

“I…I have been battling cancer for the past ten years. It was until three years later after I was diagnosed that my hair eventually entirely fell off. Which is why I was often out of the house. Part of it was work, and the other was chemotherapy. I always had hope that I would be able to be a survivor, and to stay by your side. My love, even though my body is failing me bit by bit, I tried my best to make you the happiest little girl in the world, without anyone but your dad knowing about the struggle I’m facing.”

“But Mom, why didn’t you just tell me?”
You smiled, and continued, “Honey, look at you. You’re a beautiful, talented, successful and happy plastic surgeon. I couldn’t get you all worked up over me, and take happiness away from you.”

She stood up, and knelt beside the bed. She held your hand and said, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Mom. You are the most encouraging, caring, talented, and beautiful person in the world. Even with that bandana, I never saw you otherwise. I love you. I love you so much. I wouldn’t be where I am if it weren’t for you. I promise I will be there for you, all the time.”

But, mother closed her eyes and said goodbye. She died peacefully, knowing she had accomplished her duties, having raised her kid to be a good person.

Love your mom.

As She Danced

She danced.

She would close her eyes and step outside, regardless of the weather, and she would dance.

The shoes that drowned away the stress, she wore.
The earphones that brought to her the melody, she put on.

It didn’t matter what song came on. It could have been smooth jazz, or funky pop music, or even a song by Jimi Hendrix…in fact it could have been any song. She didn’t care. She would dance.

On rainy days, she would step outside and dance until her trench coat got so wet, to the point where she could take it off, and it would be the same. The rain washed away the sorrow, the agony, the stress, and the confusion. She was clean. Her soul was clean.

On sunny days, she would walk out and dance until the wind stopped blowing her hair and her dress, until she felt the sweat dripping from her forehead. She felt light. She felt different. She felt happy.

Mother would call her out, and as a result of being overwhelmed with happiness, she would come back in. In her room, she danced. Surrounded by four walls, she brought back the memories…

…the memories of a child with no worries, with no problems, with no stress, or agony, or utter confusion.

She felt alive again…as she danced.