Brainjack

 

Brainjack
Brian Falkner

“On Friday, on his way to school, Sam Wilson brought the United States of America to its knees.

He didn't mean to. He was actually just trying to score a new computer and some other cool stuff, and in any case the words "to it's knees" were the New York Times' not his. (And way over the top in Sam's view.) Not as bad though as the Washington Post. Their headline writers must have been on a coffee binge because they screamed

National Disaster

in size 40 type font when their presses finally came back online.

Anyway it was only for a few days, and it really wasn't a disaster at all, not compared to what was still to come."

Sam Wilson is a genius. An expert at computer hacking. A 16 year old teenager. When Sam gets arrested by the authorities for hacking into the White House's 'supposedly' air-tight security, he gets offered a deal. Work for the government, or go to prison and get the key thrown away.
With the massive introduction of Neuro-Technology into society, where people plug their brains into the computer, a threat is unleashed that threatens to destroy the entire world and destroy all computer systems. Sam has to use all his smarts to work against an enemy that can see into the brains of the people around him, and is determined to delete the threat from the computer systems of the world…for good.

Another well written book by a really amazing NZ author. Is perfect for older young adults and adults that are looking for a slightly simpler book to read. This book really makes you question your own values, because when the world it turning to hell in a hand basket and when someone goes neuro, you aren't sure if you can trust them, who can you trust? And what do you believe?
 
Review TWO of FOUR for NZ book month. Sorry if they are intresting but hard to get hold of in other countries. Try Amazon perhaps?

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Little Secrets #4

Little Secrets

Chapter #4

Lacy decided that he probably didn’t have his swimming trucks with him at the present time.

“Maybe a swim another time?” She asked, wrapping her towel around her hair and grabbing her dress off the lounger and throwing it over her arm.

“Did you want to some in for a drink? Or something? Dad should be back soon.” Lacy asked, giving Christopher a backwards glance.

Christopher looked at her with a smile. “Of course, Miss Addington. I’d be delighted.” There was a touch of humor to his voice.

 

As Lacy led the way towards the house, Christopher following behind her, she realised that he was probably watching her and the way she walked, and that made her blush down to her toes and gave a secret smile to the ground. She led the way inside and dropped her dress on one of the barstools along with the towel that had been wrapped around her head. As Christopher walked in, she made sure to put the kitchen island in the middle of the kitchen between her and him.

“What do you want to drink?” She asked, keeping her voice even and level, almost robot like. ‘Please don’t  notice,’ she thought, hoping and wishing.

“What are you having?” Christopher replied, as equally even and level as she had been. Then flashed her a bright smile, letting her know he was on to her.

Lacy quickly got out two glasses, and some ice, and topped up the glasses with the organic apple juice that had been made the day before from the garden.

“Freshly made.” She said, handing one across to him, “Well, yesterday anyway.”

Christopher just smiled at her and held up his glass in mock ‘cheers’ to her.

“Here’s to you.” He said, and put his glass down, after taking a sip.

 

“How do you know my dad?” Lacy asked, him, curiosity in her voice.

“Well....” He paused, “Your dad is well known for the work he does, landscaping and things like that. I just found him on a recommendation from one of my colleagues, and it’s just taken off. Mostly just little things about the garden I’ve been consulting him on, like which flowers will go best, and if the rock wall is stable enough to plant behind it. “There seemed to be an edge to his voice; as if daring her to ask more.

Lacy let the subject drop and they fell into an awkward silence, drinking juice around the kitchen island.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook either.” Christopher’s voice intruded on her thoughts.

“What?” Lacy replied, startled.

“Off the hook for me showing you around the history of this place.” Came the reply, from a very bemused Christopher, “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying have you?”

“What?” There was a pause, “No....” She said, and blushed.

“Well, I said I was hoping to show you around tomorrow,” He looked at her intently, “If that is okay with you of course.”

“Well, um.... I think so....” She trailed off. She had planned to go to the movie tomorrow to see one of the new films that was on but realised that he wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. Besides, the sooner she did it, the sooner he would be away from a while.

 

He took a step around the counter faster than she realised, caught up in her thoughts and within seconds he was right beside her, her hands in his, pulling her closer into an embrace. She buried her face in his shirt, and realised it smelt nice, and his hands and arms were providing just enough pressure to keep her still, to let her know that he was there for her, without being smothering. “I’ll be here when you need me.” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. She blinked hard, and her eyes swam back into focus.

“....We can even go see the old sailing ship, and go on board if you want. I know the man who owns it, and I can get us onboard....” He trailed off, “You weren’t listening to me again. I can tell in your eyes.”

Lacy was trying to keep her thoughts to herself, after realising that what she has just experienced had just been a day-dream. He was dangerous. She wanted him, that much was obvious, even to her; but she had to keep her distance.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled, blushing, “My mind is somewhere else today.”

“I hope it’s somewhere good, somewhere nice.” He said, with a twinkle in his eye.

“One would hope.” She replied. “I don’t mean to be rude and all but...”

“But you have to kick me out.” He finished the sentence for her, “I understand.

“Thank you...” She said, showing him to the door, “I’m really sorry.”

Lacy was aware of the scent of him, the same scent she smelt in her day dream, and how much she’d felt the longing.

“Don’t apologise. Really.” Christopher replied, looking at her. “Tomorrow, we can either start at the museum, or down by the docks and take a sailing ship cruise. I can show you the old lighthouse on the opposite point, and the history of the wreckers’ around there if you want.”

Lacy was acutely aware of the lack of clothes on her body, after all she was only wearing her bikini, and looked at the ground.

“Lacy? It’s up to you? Really, it is.”

 

What should Lacy choose? The land based exploration of the town’s history or the more interesting sea-voyage across the harbour and the lighthouse tales?

 

 

© Samantha Millar

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

The Halfmen Of O

 The Halfmen Of O
Maurice Gee



(Sorry for the terrible picture.
My copy is too battered,
ripped and torn to share.
It's a second hand book I still love.)

"Our story begins one Lodestone Creek one summer holiday. Or at least, Nick's part in it starts there. Susan had been involved for her whole life, though she did not know it. And Jimmy Jaspers, with his nose for an easy dollar, had been working for the Halfies since he came to the creek in spring."
The Halfmen Of O is a young adult book, mainly for 11-15 year olds, and if you don't mind a quick easy read, can be read by all ages 11 and up. And the moral of the story is still the same.

The story focuses on Susan Ferris, a teenage girl who lives in Lodestone Creek, south of Collingwood, Golden Bay, New Zealand and her cousin Nick, whom she doesn't really get along with. Susan has a strange birthmark on her wrist, two parts, two teardrops. One bright red, the other golden brown, put together like a yin-yang symbol, two halves of the same shape. The birthmark was given to her by a strange old man when she was a baby, and he was found dead the next day, and nobody in the family understands what it is supposed to mean.

When Susan is taken from her home in New Zealand and thrust into the world of O, she is given a choice. After seeing the evil cruelty or the half men, and the kindness of the other creatures in the land, Susan must decide her fate.

Given the choice of accepting her birthmark and finding, and rejoining the halves to make the Halfmen whole again, or returning to her own land, Susan embarks on a journey that teaches her the true meaning of friendship, forgiveness and family, bringing her not only closer who her true purpose but also to Nick.
However there is a greater evil in the land, one who seeks to stop Susan and to bring destruction to all of O, and once complete, even to Earth. Susan faces a race against time, against the otherworldly forces, and against herself. For in doubting herself and her strength, risks the lives of all the creatures in O.

A book whose morals and values make you question your own, it is a read for all ages, even if it is just a day or two of light fluffy(ish) reading in between the likes of The Inheritance Cycle (Christopher Paolini) and Lord Of The Rings (J.R.R Tolkien), it is well worth checking out.

Review ONE of FOUR for NZ book month. Sorry if they are intresting but hard to get hold of in other countries. Try Amazon perhaps?

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Apologies

One thing you'll learn about me pretty quickly, is that I can't keep to a schedule. Not for my life. The only things I can keep together is school and work.
And that's it.

So if I miss one, I am truely sorry. I will try and keep to the schedule. But no promises. I have a few short book reviews that I will upload as one big post, (All NZ authors as it's NZ book month at the moment) and I will mean this as a sorry.

There will be more coming. But I figure this may be more of a writing blog than anything else. I enjoy books, and I'll continue doing books, no problems.

There may be a small shift in the way I do things. Tell me if you don't like it.

And if you do like it, I only ask one small thing in return. Tell people you know about this blog, because I want to start a community of like minded people who celebrate books from all around the world. So my friends, lets get together and get reading and writing.

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Little Secrets #3

Little Secrets
Chapter #3

Lacy decided that the best thing to do was to just ignore him. He was going to be a nuisance anyway, and no matter how much she wanted to wave back, he was just a little too creepy for her liking. At least until she got to know him better.
She reached up and pulled the curtains shut, and climbed into bed. Lacy fell into a restless sleep, full of eyes that followed her.

She woke up in the morning to a knock at the door.

“Lacy? Sweetheart?” Her father’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?”
Lacy lifted her head from the pillow and her eyes blearily opened to see the bright white light of the sun through her open curtains onto the white wall and door.
“Sure...I guess.” She mumbled, barely coherent. She struggled to a sitting position and faced the window. The sun was shining though the open curtains and into her eyes as the door opened and her dad backed in with a breakfast tray.
“I came to say sorry.” He paused, “About yesterday. I didn’t think.”
Lacy just looked at him as he sat on the end of the bed and put the tray over her knees.
“Dad, it was wierd.” She wasn’t sure how to continue, “I’d never met him before. You were just passing me off, and I wasn’t given a choice.”
“I’m sorry.” Her father replied, “Eat your pancakes.”
 
Lacy smiled and enjoyed her pancakes, the special sauce her father made making them all the more scrumptious. After she finished, she  put down her knife and fork and just patted her belly.
“You’re forgiven dad.” She said, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so strongly towards your special pancakes before.”
“That’s good.” Her father said. He picked up the breakfast tray and  held it against one hip. The other hand brushed her hair and he kissed her forehead, like her mother used to do. “Have a lazy day. Go for a swim in the pool. Do whatever. I’ll be working all day. Join you later.” He left the room and Lacy sat there for a moment basking in the sun. She then remembered she had to ask her dad whether he’d opened the curtains that morning. Lacy sighed, ‘Later.’ She thought, ‘Later.

She got up and got dressed into her favourite, summer maxi dress, with her electric blue bikini underneath. As she walked out of her bedroom, she grabbed her well read favourite book, ‘I Shall Wear Midnight’ by Terry Pratchett. After reading most of the book while lying in the hammock connected to the two willow trees in the backyard, she decided to go for a swim.

Lacy put down her book, smiling over one of her favourite moments and noticed twitching curtains upstairs, as if somebody had just stepped away from them. Confused, she turned towards the pool and puzzled over it before slipping into the cool waters and diving off the diving board for the weighted dive sticks at the bottom. Her record was 8 in one dive, ranging from 2 to 10 metres away. As she came up from one of her dives, she noticed Christopher standing near the edge of the pool.

Lacy stood in the shallows, the water only coming up to her waist and looked at him.

“Watching me again are you?” She asked, half serious, half joking.
“I wish.” Christopher replied, “I actually came looking for your dad. Is Paul around at all?”
Lacy frowned then recalled her father’s words. “He said he was working all day. Didn’t say where. Have you tried calling him at all?”
The reply came quickly, “Several times, both his cell-phone and then the home phone. You didn’t pick up either.” Christopher looked at her, “Been avoiding me?”
“Not at all. Was reading outside, and didn’t hear it. Or if I did, my brain filed it under useless noise. Unimportant information.” Lacy laughed and Christopher joined in.
“I hope you don’t think I’m wierd. I just think you’re really interesting, from what I’ve heard from your dad. As well as the fact that you seem interesting.”
“I don’t think you’re wierd.” The words came out effortlessly, easily, as if they were the only truth. Lacy was getting out of the water, and he was standing on the opposite side of the pool to her. She was embarrassingly aware of her body as she walked over to the lounger and picked up her towel.
“Don’t get out on my account.” Christopher said, “I rather liked watching you swim. Not that I was doing that for long. I mean, I’d only just got here, and I was looking for your dad and...” He trailed off, “That wasn’t meant to come out as creepy as it sounded.”
Lacy laughed, nervously. “Good to know.” She replied, cautiously, “I wasn’t finished diving, I still had a few more laps to do, but I don’t like being anti-social, that’s all.”

There were a few options running though her mind right now, like invite him inside, invite him for a swim, or say that she was busy and leave his presense, which part of her really wanted to do, but at the same time, would hate it if that happened.

What should Lacy do? Invite Christopher inside the house, OR invite him for a swim, OR make her excuses and leave?

 

 

© Samantha Millar

 

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you),

Samantha

Little Secrets #2

Little Secrets
Chapter #2

“I was just coming out here to ask you how old the newspaper was.” Lacy replied, with a slight frown, “Who is this?”

“Must you be so rude?” Her father reprimanded her, jokingly, “This is Christopher, and he lives next door.”

Lacy nodded her head respectfully, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Lacy.”

“So I’ve heard.” Christopher said. His voice was a rich deep voice, a voice that would be hard to disobey. He was wearing clothes that marked him out. He wasn’t sort of person to get dirty hands through working. But more than that, he was handsome, in a slightly-older-man sort of way. The way he held himself said he was of some importance to the community, but at the same time, there was a touch of controlled anger and ice in his eyes. As if he was daring her to do something stupid.

“Lacy?” Her father called out to her, the voice came through muffled, and she panicked for a moment. “Lacy, did you hear what Christopher said to you?”

“No dad. I didn’t. I apologise. I was away with the faeries.” She replied, curtly, yet humbly.

“No matter.” Christopher cut in, sensing an argument could erupt at any moment, “I simply asked if you know any of the history of the area, and of your house. I’d be happy to take you off your father’s hands for a while, if that’s okay with you?”

‘He’s older than you.’ She chided herself, not wanting to give away that she thought he was handsome in her face, ‘At least 7 years older. That’s still significantly less than dad but still.’

Out loud she replied, “I’d love to. I always liked history myself.”

“That’s settled then.” Christopher laughed, “I suspect you may be a little wary of me, yes? I can see it. I’d like to host you and your father for dinner tonight, and get to know you both a bit better. The history tour can wait until later in the week.”

Lacy smiled, knowing it was just a false smile. This man gave her feelings like she’d never had before. She liked him, yes, but at the same time, there was a touch of something...not quite right about the whole affair. She let it slide, trusting in her father’s judgement.

She made her excuses and left the pagoda courtyard and went back into the house, cleaning the bench and tidying away her mess.

“Lacy, Christopher is very important to me and to the business. I must implore you not to go against him.” Her father’s voice was worried and almost pleading as she turned around. But upon seeing her, his face broke into a smile. “Christopher Newson wishes to entertain my daughter! You are one lucky girl.” His voice was that of jubilation as he danced her around the kitchen.

“Lucky?” Lacy exclaimed, “I’m 19, and this older man is taking an interest in me?” She broke free of her father’s hold and turned to him, her voice raising slightly. “Thats not lucky? That’s just creepy. Don’t you see it?”

Paul grabbed her wrist as she headed towards the stairs.\

“Don’t mess this up for me.” He said softly in her ear, “This...this is bigger than just you. If he chooses to entertain you, let him entertain you. The future, our future is riding on this. I won’t let you mess this up for me.”

“For you?” Lacy’s voice was that of confusion and anger, “For you? Right? So I don’t matter in this equation?”

“For us.” Paul corrected, but the damage was done. Lacy flew out of his reach and up the stairs. “It was for us, Lacy. Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it to come out the way it did.”

The only reply he got was a slammed door from upstairs.

Lacy was still lying on her bed when the moon rose over the horizon. She decided to get up and turn the lights on, and close the curtains. She did the former, but not the latter because when she went over to the window there was a silhouette in the house next door, looking across at her window. The silhouette was unmistakably Christopher’s, with broad shoulders and the air of which they were carried.  He carried a glass in his hand, probably brandy or whiskey and he raised the other one to wave at her.

Lacy was torn; she found him attractive, but at the same time, undeniably creepy. She wanted nothing more than to wave back, but still she held back for a few moments, trying to decide what to do.

Should Lacy wave back at the man who seems to be Christopher, OR should she close the curtains and try and forget about him?

© Samantha Millar

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Code 61

 

Code 61
Donald Harstead

"My name is Carl Houseman and I'm a deputy sheriff in Nation County, Iowa. I've been doing this for over twenty years now; long enough to graduate from the night shift to become the department's investigator,a and senior officer as well. Long enough to feel senior in every sense of the term. Somehow, when you finally pass fifty and realise a fellow officer was born about the same time you took the oath, you start to wonder if you might not begin to feel old pretty soon. I mean, maybe in another ten years or so.

 

It's been my experience that cases fall into categories that are a bit different from the examples that they cite at the academy. Most of the time, you have more than enough evidence to show how the offence was committed, but really have to work to identify who did it. The rest of the time, you pretty much knew who did the dirty deed, but showing how is the problem. In rare cases, a case will develop both ways at the same time. That was what this one did."

-Prologue, Code 61

 

To begin with, the prologue, it isn't all that interesting; the cover is rather mysterious and doesn't say much; and the blurb is not all that helpful. The most interesting bit about the cover is actually the little caption at the top which reads as follows:

An isolated house, a bloodthirsty murderer and a wall of silence

Which says a lot.

 

However, this book, among others of it's kind, is deceptively simple to make the real action come as a surprise. And boy oh boy does it come as a surprise in this book.

However boring the epilogue is, and however weird and creepy the first chapter is, persevere. The second chapter gets even weirder. However the writing pulls you along at a gripping yet comfortable pace, not making you take in too much information  at once, and adding some much needed humour as it goes along.

 

Donald Harstead is up there with the likes of Michael Connelly. His writing style is unique and quirky, yet simple enough to read. Everything is spelt out in plain, black and white, even with a handy glossary of abbreviations and police 'ten' codes used in radio transmissions is contained at the back of the book.

 

This story takes some rather unusual turns and is recommended to all who enjoy a quirky and good thriller, however does have a downfall for those not familiar with common crime/thriller abbreviations and the police 'ten' codes, as these are used quite frequently. If you are not sure, it's best to have a look at the back 4 pages first, but most get explained in the duration of the story, and being an adult novel there is also swearing in the book. Not prolifically, but also it is not used sparingly.

 

The characters are well introduced and developed, relationships formed, and secrets well hidden and exposed throughout the course of the story. With the major quirks aside, this book feels like it could be real, and could be just another part of the world somewhere that it's happening, it is just that well written.

 

Overall, a twisty plot of a quirky book, the likes of which don't come around too often.

 

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Little Secrets #1

Here it is, as promised, the first installment in the writing series that will be developing as we go along. I need feedback on this, where the story should go. If you have suggestions for the future chapters(not the next one) just let me know, characters to add, a secret to incorporate.....just contact me on the form or in the comments below.

Little Secrets

“Until the end, you are here.” He had told her, laughing at her discomfort.
Years later, the words still echoed through her mind.
 
Lacy Addington was sitting on the front step of the summer house, recalling the times that she had spent on the front step at home. Thinking about how many times she had been called in by her mother for getting too cold watching the sunset. About how many times she had got up early and watched the sunrise, and fallen asleep on the swing seat. Her smiles faded slowly as she felt the all too familiar tugs of longing, and hurt. She remembered she had been in a car crash, or so they had told her. Not much before that could she remember. Except the sunrises and sunsets.
 
The hospital, her doctors, her father all thought she wouldn’t survive. She was put in a drug induced coma for 2 months, waiting, watching, hoping. When she healed, and was taken out of it, the first thing she was told was that her mother had died. For weeks, she had been in a state of shock, blaming herself for the crash. But she couldn’t even remember if she had been the problem, what if she was the fault, she had distracted her mum?
 
Lacy felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you planning to stay out here all night?” the voice said. A sad smile crossed her face as her father sat down next to her. At 46, he was still in prime shape, though the hair was starting to turn grey, and his neatly trimmed beard was salt and pepper coloured.
“Dad. I miss....” She stopped her voice barely above a whisper, “I miss mum.”
“I know sweetheart.” Her father replied, his fingers reaching for her, pulling her closer to him. Lacy let herself be pulled towards his chest and rested her head on his shirt. He held her tight as her tears fell, her blond hair obscuring her face as her tears broke the silence of the night.
 
Lacy didn’t remember making her way up to her bed the night before. She woke up, still in her clothes, under her duvet, in her bedroom. Her last thought was that of the sunset, and the cold that claimed her. After getting up, and getting changed, she made her way downstairs, to see her father working on the gardens off to the right of the house, around the pagoda. She fixed herself toast, and stood at the bench, eating it while she read the newspaper. She frowned when she saw the date.
“Monday June 18 2012?” She murmured; confusion in her voice. She left her breakfast dishes on the bench, intending to ask her dad what had happened. She left the front door wide open as she ran towards where he father was working. As she neared, she noticed that somebody else was with him.
“Paul, you really do tell the strangest tales.” The man said, laughing. He looked around her age, early twenties.
Her father, leaning on the shovel, noticed her before the man did and smiled.
“And here’s my sleeping beauty.” He told the man with a twinkle in his eye, “What can I do for you?”

 

Shall she continue and ask her father the date and why she remembers it to be different, OR ask who the man is and why he is here?

© Samantha Millar

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

 

 

here

Alex Rider #1: Stormbreaker

 

Stormbreaker

Alex Rider Series

Anthony Horowitz

 

    

"When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it's never good news.

Alex Rider was woken by the first chime."

 

Alex Rider lives in Chelsea, England with his uncle and housekeeper, Jack. When his uncle, Ian Rider dies in suspicious circumstances, Alex is determined to investigate. His investigations lead him to the Royal & General Bank in central London, which turns out to be a cover for MI6. Alex is forcibly recruited into spy work, and sent on an intensive SAS training to prepare for the mission his uncle died doing.

 

Stormbreaker is the first in a completed series of 9 Alex Rider books, written by the English mastermind of teenage fiction, Anthony Horowitz.

 

Stormbreaker is a well written, superbly paced book, with amazing action sequences and excellent characters. This book is very much a slightly fantastical book, to suspend your disbelief a little makes this book a whole lot better. The plot is nicely rounded off at the end of the story, but also leaving it open for the continuation books to follow.

 

It introduces the main characters nicely, explaining some background, and character features, as well as making them people you can easily relate to in someway. The storyline is excellent with a nice balance of good and bad characters. However the story seems to still have no major cliffhanger type moments, do-or-die moments like other books have.

 

Compared to another teenage spy novel series like that of CHREUB(also by a British author set in England) it does not have the same appeal as for most of the time, it is just one good guy surrounded by lots of bad guys. However compared to many other teenage novels, this well written piece of fiction sets up some questions that get answered only when you get to the 8th and 9th books. Overall, it's a brilliant piece of fiction and I recommend it, but not as much as the best teenage spy novel series CHERUB.

 

Bottom line, I like it. I enjoy it. I recommend it. But I believe there are better books out there. The plot and characters are amazing, the way it is set out...not so much.

Until next time,

Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)

Samantha.

Loss And Heartbreak (Writing)

This is a prewritten piece I have, the questions for the new story series are at the bottom. Please enjoy. Mostly unedited.

Loss and Heartbreak

“I wish that I could cry, fall upon my knees, and find a way to lie about a home I’ll never see.” – Five For Fighting

He lay there on the bathroom floor, crying his eyes out. It was 2am, and he was lost. He was falling into the depths of blackness, not sure how to follow the path, not wanting to see the end of this strange and unusual thread that he had began to pull.

It had started with her. Always her. She was the one that had broken him down, and then built him back up. There was two of them, or there was supposed to be. His feelings got mixed up somewhere along the way, and although they were separate people, with completely different lives and personalities, they had become one. Somewhere along the line, they had become one. The one that he had given everything for, who had just walked away. She had broken him. She had left him cold and lonely, in pieces on the floor crying his eyes out. Just like now. Then there was the other. The one who had taken those pieces and put him back together, the one who stood by him, defying her friends to do so. She had been there for him. And now she was breaking him.

By being broken herself, she was breaking him. She was blaming herself about things that had never been her fault in the first place; and by being broken, by blaming herself, she was breaking him. And that made her the one that broke him in the first place. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everybody was supposed to be all happy, nothing was supposed to be broken. He was moving on, slowly, but it was happening. Domino effect. One thing went wrong, and the whole precariously balanced structure came crumbling down. All the progress, collapsing before his eyes. Loss and heartbreak intertwined, as he fell. Back to the place he had fought his way out of.

Everything he knew, he was scared of breaking. He was scared of falling even further. He was scared of making things worse. He just wanted things to go back to the way they had been, before he had told her. All that had led to his crying on the bathroom floor.

__________________________________________________

Inside her own head, she was blaming herself, for everything. She had opened her big mouth; said things that she had sworn to all gods and the devil that she would never say. She had held onto it so long, and something had broken it. If things in life could make a sound, you’d hear a little girl crying and a heart breaking. And because of her stupidness, she was breaking. She was collapsing. Her chest felt like it was being ripped apart, as she struggled to maintain some sort of semblance to her life, trying to put back together the pieces of not only herself, but the boy she knew she was on the point of destroying.


Author Notes:
A little piece written at 2am, inspired by a phone conversation. Mostly unedited.


Choices for the story:

Genre:
A) Dark
B) Love
C) Sad
D) Other (Say what)