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.

All rights reserved.
No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise
without the prior written permission of mine.

Comments greatly appreciated

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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A rainy day on 2nd July 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009

The bright morning was slowly covered by the dark grey clouds. The low groaning of thunder threatened a long downpour. Sora looked out of the windows and thought about it carefully. It was an ominous sign for a really bad day and she was all alone at home. Maybe I should bring in the clothes, she thought to herself, it sure doesn't look like passing dark clouds.

Strolling to the balcony where the clothes of her family hung out to dry from the wind and the now hidden sun. Was that a drip of rain? Or was it just her imagination? Sora did not wait to find out. She hurriedly brought in the clothes - bamboo after bamboo. How long did it took? 1 minute maybe. Ensuring that the clothes were safe from the now drizzly, she headed back to the living room where she was watching the television and willing her projects to be done on their own.

There was no lightning. Not a flash at all but there was continuous growling of the thunder. It was as though an Old Man was nagging for her to stop lazing around and went to complete her half-done project. It didn't took more than 5 minutes, or at least that was how Sora felt, to realise that her whole house became dark. Under such circumstances, it was hard to gauge the time. It could have been noon but it could have been night.

piak-piak-plat-plat. The rain came pouring down. The Old Man has started to cry. The sky was dark grey and in view was only the pouring rain. The thunder consistently rumbled as she stared out patiently, enjoying the view of the rain which it was not something anyone would bother themselves about.

The phone rang. Oh. It was daddy. Sora felt like a little girl and thought she could get a little attention out of daddy. But no. Daddy was more concerned if the laundry was brought in away from the rain. He was not concern that Sora might be feeling alone or afraid of the darkness and moist that envelopes her. He was not concern if Sora felt trapped in a doll house and frightened by the loud thunderous groan by the Old Man. Why should he be concern? Sora was afterall 18 not 8.



... ...

my mind has stopped blank here. it suddenly occurred to me right at this moment. It's no wonder that I always look for my boyfriend. That I love and trust my boyfriend more than my family. It's no wonder that I never liked to share my achievements and my sadness with my family. It's because they don't care. They never did and they probably never will. I don't like to be a tool.

Newbie Snow dropped her story @
3:06:00 PM

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