old/new novels and short stories

post here your old/new novels or short stories (not fan fictions)
share your talents!!!




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ill start mine.. i used to be a writer in my previous college organization (publication), though i've only written few short stories due to other school activities(our organization was not only to publish school paper you know heheh, we were all around!) and our art director and Editor-in-chief kept me busy in graphics department heheh and i am his maid hahah
its kind an ironic to be promoted from cartoonist into feat/entetainment Ed (my position as a maid was also included ahahhah)
ow...nevermind the history...its just makes me more old hahah
heres one i wrote... enjoy... its a one sided love story i guess...and Raine was my penname
and the pic below was one of my old photomanip to my friends picture heheh (they are my favorite subjects hehe)

my other short story: “In my eyes” http://xisangelraine.deviantart.com/art/a-story-in-my-eyes-55511905
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Other Side of the Bridge
By: Raine

“If I told you that I care, would you be the same? In my life you came, would you be mine to claim?”
“Nice poem! Although, I think you should change some words in this line to make it more striking.”
“Okay. Thanks Mr. Editor.”
“My pleasure Shakespeare.”

It had been like this whenever I write poems and stories. I compose, he improves; that was how it had been for the rest of our time being best of friends. Although embarrassing, I guess it is better that someone is guiding me through excellence in English. ? Anyway, this is my best friend; his name is Kyle, a walking encyclopedia. Though in spite of his gift, he has a hard time writing poetry. Maybe he’s just not really as romantic as I am.
It is kind a weird, not to mention awkward, that he is improving the poems that was actually dedicated to him. …Yup, you are right; I am in love with my best friend. Yet he has someone else in mind—definitely not me. He is in love with the most popular girl in our campus, Lorraine. Who wouldn’t be? She’s beautiful and smart and everything any guy would dream to have, and I am way below her level. What do you expect from a simple girl who counts on simple things in life to make her happy? Not like Lorraine, I don’t get to have everything I want—that of which includes the man I love. My only wish: “To be with the one that gave light to my dark world; an angel rushing down from the heavens above, offering his arms to hug me tight and fly with him to the skies where the two of us will live happily ever after forevermore…” –impossible, isn’t it? A mere dream for a geek like me.
Okay, enough melodrama (I hate it when I get carried away like this). It’s all just giving me a very rapid heart action resulting in increased pulse rate, with lateral pressure of the blood against the blood vessel walls, and with abnormal frequency of respiration (talk about being a complete nerd, huh?) …By the way did I already tell you that Kyle wants me to bridge him to Lorraine? Actually, Lorraine is my sister (just couldn’t gather enough guts to admit that earlier, sorry). Great, my situation is getting worse.

“Please Jen! Help me to be close with your sister! I really love her”

Those words… I just can’t help myself do all the things for him, even though I know that it will break my heart. This is the fact that I do not want to see; the harsh truth and the sadness enclosed with it, I do not want to feel or even know of. Even so, I could not help myself falling deeper in love with him in spite of him not being aware of my unconditional love. Whenever I look at him, I feel my soul giving in. What more when he looks into my eyes, I feel like melting down, and I tend to look away just to get hold of myself.

“Everyday, whenever Lorraine has her class, put a piece of pink rose and a poem in her locker.”

This was one of the most romantic scenes I was able to day dream about before, whenever I thought of him. Yet, all of this was sacrificed for the sake of my best friend’s love for my sister. Days went on and Kyle finally caught Lorraine’s attention. Sad to say, I was the one to blame for all of this. Now, my sister likes my best friend. How couldn’t she? He took my advices for his romantic dinner dates and great moments, and all of it was sure to make her yield.
I guess this is the route that I took; I am here at the other side looking at them, falling into pieces—a bridge that collapsed after being used and trampled on.

A bridge may be the sign of separation of two worlds that would not bind together. However, it is also a connection. And if I need to cross this bridge, I will do whatever the cost. Maybe it is not yet the time, or maybe there is someone else waiting for me.
But for now, I’ll hold on to this feeling.

“For me, if you really love someone, it does not matter if he gives back the love you gave. It is the times you have spent together and the moments you both had to know each other despite of this big world. You felt love and fulfilled whatever made him happy. Sounds like a martyr, but that is true love: kind and selfless.” -Jen

ooooh! interesting! haha this inspired me and the novels i read... maybe i'll write my own soon... ^___^ BTW it was quite good tho the story is short

heheh thanks!! i dont make long stories... to me its really boring heheheh

i made alot of poems but heres another one story...based on a true to life story and added some fiction
(btw, all my works are already published in my previous college newspaper)
and i also drew the eyes below heheheh

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“In my eyes”
By Raine

As I take an every inch of my step, I look around. I only saw emptiness...Silence keeps banging on my head. Until a figure shape broke everything. The image became clearer... The figure was a man, rushing down towards my way and without a single word… he handed to my hands a pack of unknown substance! But my eyes are just staring at this man…questions down through my mind. BANG!
I was shock with the sound came through my ears. It stopped my body from shaking… until I wasn’t able to move! I looked at the man…something was on his abdomen…red. It was blood! Oozes out from him! I was terrified! Crying out! But voices would not come out!... and then another man appeared from the dead man’s back. Not very far from where I stand…holding a gun…pointing out to me…BANG!
“Ahh!” I opened my eyes…but this time, I’m in my room. “Again?” I’ve been dreaming this again and again for days. And it is making me insane! My heart won’t stop pounding. Fear enclosed all over my body. The sun was already kissing my window. But still I’m not in my consciousness…just staring at the ceiling. .. I hugged my pillow, I felt a book…no, diary. Pages of black and white. Written from hatred… It made me stood up and read what is written…
“I’m just seven years old. I don’t want to see or hear what the adults do. Is this the world I live in? If that so, I don’t want to grow up. Please4… ease this fear I felt… from this world of nonsense, confusion and delusions…I’m just a child, and yet, they vanished my rights to be a child and have a normal and peaceful life. All I want is to grow and play…Is that bad?
I lived in a squatter area, somewhere in urban areas in Luzon. A typical life it might be. But look closely to the other side, very closely to see what is behind those very faces…greed. In my eyes…fools, a big disgrace.
Their children were taught criminal acts, such as steal and gamble. And like their children…their parents are criminal themselves. They use prohibited drugs…right in front of you. They enjoy the smell of those heated methamphetamine in a piece of foil and sip it through a straw or injected to their body. What was it again? Shabu or they also called it poor man’s cocaine, a prohibited drug. An unscented white crystal powder substance that is sour to taste. It may look like “Tawas”. This won’t do any good, it will make you crazy and worst…die. That is why a lot die in place. I pity on them…and inside, I laugh on what happened to them. They deserve it. It is strictly prohibited to use, to sell, to buy, to distribute, to bring and manufacture this drug…
But what have I done? In an early age, I became a part of the distribution of this substance to those insolent fools, as if hungry animals craving for this food… What can I do… I’m just a kid. I have no power on them. I was accompanied when I delivered it. It was wrapped in plastic and exchanged with bundles of money. Money, money, money. A paper that causes people to do anything… But I see them in and out of jail. And when night has come, raid, incursion, A drama-action series brought by “catch me if you can” of police and drug addicts.
I really don’t know what I am doing… I really don’t even know what to do! I was terrified. It’s terrible. Guns, blood…death. Even the people you trust will betray you… They were dazzle with money. Endless money, the forsaken truth that I should live. But please… stop this nonsense… I can’t take this anymore. If this keeps on… I might as well embrace the death’s hymn…”
I read again these words. I felt anger, hatred and anguish. Crying out for thousand times for all those pain felt inside. Even light from above has been questioned and thus, learned to trusted no one. Many things happened even treachery was bestowed. Seeking anyone to pull out from this sadness. But no one heard thy plea…
But now, everything was done. I already closed this book, ended this with a period. This pages of my childhood must be burned to past. Even though nothing can change that… I lived now to what I believe and what is true. I don’t want to live again in spiral of uncertainty, an endless spin cycle… It’s different now. I already replaced my canvas, painted a new portrait, leaving behind the black and white, brushing it with different colors from my new palette…and by this…It made me strong.