They call me...

MoonPhoenix Devil
ii belong to the FLAMES of imagination

All stories written are ficitonal unless otherwise stated. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Credits

Design: pKE Code: illusioNATION
Image and music: FF Extreme


Acknowledgements:

To my boyfriend who once taught me that only we know what style our writing should be,
Because others can only guide and not manipulate.

To my english, literature and drama teachers who once taught me the many ways I could improve.

To my littlest cousin who showed me that imagination never fade with growing age.

To all story writers who build my love for reading and writing stories.

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Stabbed
Thursday, September 27, 2007

In much agony, I slowly spunned around. Tears welled in my eyes as I stared at the shadowy figure. Gravity and the extra weight of unshed tears started to pull me down until I fell to the ground. I curled up in excruciating pain as I slowly fade into unconciousness.
I awoke to find myself lying on a bed, feeling enervated and empty. Memories raced through my mind making my head spin. I shook my head real hard to clear my thoughts, only to find myself alone in an empty room, facing the shadowed figure with an empty mind. I stared at this shadowed figure with an empty look on my face. The shadowed figure began pleading for my forgiveness. I only laid there staring at his tears fall as I silently thought of my pain.
"How could you expect me to forgive you when you had stabbed me from behind? I used to think that I could trust no one but when I tried to trust people, I ended up being stabbed by traitors. You may not be the first to betray me, but how could I trust someone who hurt and lied to me?"

With these thoughts running through my mind, my wound hurt more than ever. It burnt as though someone just poured alcohol upon the bleeding wound. And yet, I never screamed in pain. The burning anger and hatred in me eased the desire to cry out in pain.

I asked the shadowed figure in a weak whisper: "How do you expect me to forgive you after you hurt me so deeply?" The shadowed figure never reply. He simply kept reproaching himself as though it would make any differences. My wound burnt as my emotions got the better of me.
"What is the point of regretting after committing this mistake you now claim to be?" I pressed on with my questions. Again, the shadowed figure did not reply, but this time asked for forgiveness.


"How am I to trust anyone ever again? Who am I to tell if I placed my trust on the right person? What would I do if one day I was stabbed again by the person I trust? Why should I put myself through so much pain again?" I mulled over these questions again and again. There was an awkward silence in the room.
I stared cold-heartedly, determined not to forgive. But I know deep down inside that I would forgive this shadowed figure, but never forget the stab. Breaking the silence, I spoke fiercely to the shadowed figure, in a bid to remind him that nothing he say or do can ever turn back time:"Doctors can heal the wound, but there would still be an ugly scar upon the very place you stabbed."
"I promise you that there would never be a second time." The shadowed figure finally said. "Give me a chance to make up for my moment of carelessness. I would never hold a knife near you ever again. I swear." He was filled with remorse and sadness. I could feel his sincere plead for forgiveness.
Although I knew that I would never forget this excruciating pain and have no intention to let him forget this undesire agony he inflicted upon me, I nodded to the shadowed figure as I swallowed my tears of pain. I swore that I would not trust anyone so easily anymore, for it would only bring pain more than joy.
*****************************************************
I once wrote something like this elsewhere when I was stabbed by someone I trusted a lot. This piece had been edited to make a little more sense than before.

Newbie Snow dropped her story @
3:33:00 PM

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