[Sequel to Regrets] Loneliness couldn't be equated to being alone. He realised this as his hands were shaking, stuffing a handfull of gum drops in the side pocket of his backpack. The eerie silence in the room made him nervous, especially since he wasn't alone. He was growing anxious under the stares he was receiving. Judgemental eyes followed his every movement and he couldn't wait to be rid of them. It was clear that this time, he was leaving for good. There was nothing here for him anymore. A story about a fucked up family, bad decisions, intrigues and a boy trying to his place in the world. Copyright @ Antiraq

Two countries. Two fronts. Two trenches, in between them, no man's land. The men all fight in one war, for one victory, and one goal. Copyright @ Antiraq

Darren's favourite activity is people-watching. Copyright @ Antiraq

A funeral. The sun was shining brightly, contradicting the emotions of the people standing below it as all of them stared at the coffin which was about to be lowered into the depths of a dark hole - together with its content, the lifeless body of a young man named James Font. And amidst the crowd of mourners, another young man, the former best friend of late Mr. Font - Marcus Reed. His expression was blank, no sorrow to be detected. Just plainness. That was, until he suddenly began laughing, of course. A story about fucked up morals, discovery of empathy and a few too many drinks. Copyright @ Antiraq