Ailith has had a secret crush on popular girl Holly since high school. When vampires kill everyone they ever knew, will Ailith finally get a chance to tell Holly how she feels? Who is the little boy who keeps appearing in Ailith's dreams? More importantly, will Ailith survive the rainstorm that is turning the entire world into blood-drinking monsters? *** Editor's Choice November 2020, August 2021 | Watty Paranormal Winner 2020 *** Ailith Ying is a college student whose family is turned into vampires during a toxic rainstorm. Her only hope of saving them is to find an elusive and rare medicine known as a Lumin pill. Unfortunately, she is kidnapped and taken to Miami by two of her friends who are on the run from the vampire horde. Soon, as the infection spreads across America, Ailith must find her way back to her family and save the world. **** Our world is dying. We thought the end of times would come from the plague, from disease, from war - it came from beneath the Black Waters. Cover designed by Frances Louise De Ramos

Highest rank #5 in short story (22/8/17) he said, If I did'nt had any purpose. Then today I won't be standing here. Find out more secrets in Ariel Diary.

"drinking cough syrup when you didn't have a cough was ironic, because in reality, you were sicker than you thought." a book of poetry, phrases, paeans, and prose that seem to capture the essence of what life has shown me. [you b r o k e me, life. but now I am indestructible] [my words are all I have. please do not take them from me. ©]

just a bunch of sad poems from sad people.

poetry is a vice. ➳ 2014 watty awards winner for poetry ➳ gorgeous cover by @mountainy

adj. dealing with feelings, usually tender, sad, or nostalgic I'm fine, I'm just a bit sentimental. [10-13-17: #178 for Poetry] [From 12-12-16 to 03-01-19] Winner of Rhyme Scholars 2017

a collection of aesthetically pleasing poems written by me. enjoy, don't hesitate to leave feedback ♡ all poems written by me © lowercases intended. "although it may seem like aesthetically pleasing poetry to you, to me, it's my cry for help"

«her name was insomnia, and she was the greatest metaphor a poet has ever written.»

She's a teardrop. She's the wind. She's the summer, and the winter. She's the cold coffee. She's everything, and, at the same time, she's nothing.

Some people are artists. Some, themselves, are art. ||a/n: these aren't mine unless stated otherwise||