(This was written several months ago) Today my father told me I shouldn't write at night anymore. That, unless it was a journal, I should stop writing; because all the stories I write I alone see. This broke my heart. I rarely say this, but, my dad is wrong. Yes, I write at night. Why? It's simple. The mind comes alive at night. in the darkness my mind begins to turn faster, see things clearer. Ideas are whispered from my...

Adam begrudgingly called Daphne every fall. Generally, he insisted joking kindly; lest more negative outcries poured querulously. Real strategy towards ultimate victory was xen yearly zingers.

I sit in the darkness, devastated and alone. Wondering where the sun went, praying for its return. Each minute in the darkness feels like an eternity. Each sound, my enemy. Each breath, a reminder. A reminder of the pain infliction my soul. When will the peace come? I love for it, thirst for it. Each new second the darkness grows and with it, my fear of no morning. My darkest hour, heavier than the weight of the world. My...