Love In Tales

TOSSED AND LOST

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Fear!

Fear has a large shadow, but he himself is small.

Fear has two meanings:

Forget everything and run,

Or face everything and rise. It depends on the choice we make.

Choice!

In every single thing we choose, we are choosing a direction. Our life is a product of choices. We are free to choose, but we are not free from the consequences of our choices.

Some we regret, some we are proud of, some will haunt us forever, the message: we are what we choose to be.

Places change over time with or without oil spills. But humans are responsible for the deepwater horizon gusher – humans, as well as the corals, fishes and other creatures, are suffering the consequences.

Life is like the ocean. It can be calm or still, and rough or rigid, but in the end, it's the horizon vista that shows the last pain or the last hope.

Pain!

When it hurts so much that you can't breathe; that's when you know you are still alive.

That moment when you can actually feel the pain in your chest from seeing or hearing something that breaks your heart. And the moment when your soul knows how to heal but the challenge is the mind to control.

She was running to salvage her life. Turning back again and again, to ensure that no body was following her but her pace never slowed down. Her snickers were making noises and creating havoc with the dry leaves. She was feeling pain in her feet and a burning sensation in her lungs, but she knew that her time to be save is limited and she need to save her bacon before crushing down under cruel peoples.

Darkness was wrapping the sky and demolished the purple and orange hue. Hiding the moon in thick duvet of clouds making it hard for her to see her way but what she cared the most was her safety.

That was at the prick.

'' Get that bitch ''

The voices were coming closer to her but her pace was increasing with the voices. Her chick shirt was torn in sleeves revealing her porcelain skin. Her distressed jeans were covered in mud. Long hair disheveled on her back, face bruised with slap marks and cut lips. Her beauty was hidden behind her disheveled state claiming her calamity.

She was a beauty. A beauty hard to describe in words.

Her striking features would make anyone weak to knees. A beguiling highly charming or attractive and able to arouse desire or hope in any one. Bewitching having the quality or power to attract or fascinate. But that became her curse.

Her beauty was both blessing and curse.

Beautiful but cursed like rose. To be cut and picked first.

Her bow was down to the worlds of dark; where arrows spring and miss their mark.

But the emptiness and sadness was visible on her polished face. Even the dim lights couldn't hide her pain.

Nahal!

The girl with hazel eyes and brunette hairs. Slender figure with right curves in right places.

The girl who was full of life and was the only daughter of her mother living in Canada.

The girl whose mother named her Nahal as she was her small plant, plant of hope and hankering.