The Forgotten Past

Every time I begin a story, I usually start with the title because it reminds me of what I should write. But, today I'm writing about you. I procrastinated long enough. Every time I try to put pen to paper, I got overwhelmed with emotions. Memories flood back like a broken dam. I have to tread carefully on this one because you are the story of all my other stories, the one I revolves around and the one I wished did not end.  It has to be my masterpiece, not one I will read again and again but one that can fully shows how I feel these 6 years. Now, how do I begin? There are so many things to describe you and the way we meet but there is no way to say it without it sounding like a cliché from a book. I could tell you stories about football, my passion and how my day is going on but when it comes to you, I have no words. I just want to get out the entire cliché before I go any further. Yes, she is pretty and yes she is intelligent and has a smile that melts me. Yes she did ...

One lazy afternoon, I sat down and realized I am only 5 months or so away from graduation and I cannot decide what to feel. Do I feel sad or do I feel happy? What is graduation anyway? I remember at the start of my final school year, I walked into school realizing I am a senior now and that thought somehow does not intrigue me even though there was so much hype being a senior.             A little more than 4 years ago, I was in school looking at my crush and wondering how long would I like this girl for. At that time, we liked to prank each other by untying his or her shoelaces when one is not looking. I imagined myself playing this prank on her in our senior year. I did ask myself how long will these crushes last and will I ever remember this memory. Turns out I do. However it is not a sweet one. I had a crush on her for 2 or 3 years and then I ignored her for the rest of the school years. It was silly thinking back because ...

Why is it that you have no emotion? How do you keep yourself in motion? What do you do to keep living life? Why do you start talking with the cuts from your knife? You say you do not feel joy Yet you play like a toy You say everything is a trick Yet you never get pricked You say you do not feel sorrow Yet you act like there is no tomorrow You say you do not fear tears Yet you never once shed one You say you do not feel pain Yet your wrists have blood stains You told me to not worry Yet you never told me your story Why is it that you have no emotion? How do you keep yourself in motion? What do you do to keep living life? Why do you start talking with the cuts from your knife?

When tears don't come And words don't tell The loneliness in you Take a metal pen To write stories On your wrist Watch red beads drip And let relief sweep away The pain of yesterday As you draw another line To complete your story Let darkness engulf you When tears don't come And words don tell

                An Islander is an adjective to describe a person who is all alone by himself like one stranded on an island. An islander shall feel no love and give none. To not laugh at jokes their friends made not because it's funny but because he has no friends. To not feel the cares of a brother who is too immersed in his own life. To not feel the love of a mother who is too busy with her work. And expects nothing but beatings from his father. Lastly but not least, to not fit in this society. As if he's from another society. Now, how did i ended up here?                 Maybe it was back to the day when I was born. Or was it the day when my father passed away? Maybe it was the heartbreak I suffered when I thought the love of my life rejected me. Or did it began 2 weeks ago when i defy rational thinking? Maybe it's one of these, but let me introduce myself first. I'm Steven, 14 years old and is an islan...