Tears stained her pillow as her hollow screams were silenced. She turned and looked around her room looking for something that would occupy her mind and stop her from crying. She lay down on her now moist pillow and clutched her bed sheet tight and gritted her teeth, willing herself to stop crying. Slowly, her body relaxed and she took a couple of deep breaths as she realised she’d stopped crying. A few gasps escaped her lips as she steadied her breathing and sat up at the edge of her bed. “Tasha!” called out her mother’s cheerful voice from downstairs, “Dinner’s ready.” She sighed, wondering how her mother was never aware of what she was feeling, “Coming!” cried out her hoarse voice in reply.
Author: Isha Rana
Christina woke up early that morning despite the cold foggy weather and rushed to open her front door to pick up her mail and the newspaper. She was excited about reading her own article in the newspaper that day, it was a milestone she had been looking forward to for as long as she could remember. As she sifted through the various papers in her hand a postcard caught her attention. It was a beautiful picture of the St. Kate’s Cathedral with an invite to a funeral on the other side. What piqued her interest was that there was no mention of whose funeral she was being invited to. She slowly walked back towards her front door, the gravel crunching beneath her feet, her mind lost in thought as Kaira, her golden retriever, ran around her in circles trying to bite at her heels. She entered the house and made a cup of coffee for herself and settled on the couch with the coffee in one hand and the papers in another. Kaira bounded up to her and settled on her lap.
Home, after twenty years, finally home. She walked into her room, so familiar, yet unrecognizable. As she looked around, she realised how little things had changed back home. It felt like she had stepped into a “time vault” of her own creation, from her soft toys to her artwork as a child, everything perfectly preserved.
As was the custom, being the firstborn he inherited the throne after his father’s death. His father was a good leader, not the best but at least he cared about the people and did his best to help them. The realm was divided by the love for their king and hate for him ever since he inherited the throne because ever since Daman came into power, things had been different. Half the realm believed in his image and his promise for a better future, the rest saw beyond his words. The rampant hatred that was flooding