The Nerd Can Fight

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o focus on my surroundings. When I realized what the pair of blinding lights was, I immediately strapped my seat belt on and curled my body up and tried t

thing ceased back to a regular rhythmic inhales and exhales but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. I felt around my bedside table for my phone and when I finally got a hold on it, the harsh light from the screen ca

lked the small distance to the door and twisted the doorknob before pulling it open gingerly, cringing at the creaking of the rusty hinges. St

dest one of all. I wouldn't have any explanation as to why I was wandering around the house. If my parents caught me, I don't think they would apprecia

d bent my body after opening the tap, watching the water gush out and cupping my hands beneath it

the sink before going down the drain and disappearing. It had almost been two long, hard years and I still h

a few feet from mine, to not to be taken out of the room. One was neatly mad

as I breathed a sigh, relaxing my tense muscles and flexing my fingers before gingerly taking the framed memory into my hand. I held it as if it was an expensi

of memories and stared at the piece of paper that showed a little girl hugged by an old

ive writing. Both their parents were trying to divert their attention to the camera but both kids refused to budge. It seemed as if they were having an inside joke through a sibling tele

stool with white shorts clinging to her thighs while hugging a beige teddy bear. Meanwhile, the boy was standing, straight and towered over the girl. Although he was a kid, h

in the other pictures had and it was as if she didn't age a bit, still so sweet, so innocent and naïve, completely sheltered from the cruelty stored within the depths of the world. Th

beautiful, startling shade of blue, so clear as to allow the sun's rays to hit its surface and was immediately reflected back, creating stars to

y eyes when I finally set the framed picture gently back onto the bedside table gently and w

g over the brother I lost that night like I had been doing for the past 24 months. I clutched on the battered cloth as if my life depended on it, digging my nails into it while it muffles

ngs of the piece of cloth, the last t