Week 21

© Natalie Hall

A monster slept under my bed.

He was big and had blue fur, and he always took my pink bedroom slippers. Every night he pulls them closer to him, luring me to his lair where, I am certain, he'll eat me if given the chance.

A big, blue-furred monster slept under my bed.

I would hear him scratch my wooden floor boards every time I am one breath away from sleep. The sound would keep me wide awake for hours, and when I finally fall asleep, it would haunt me still in my dreams.

A big, blue-furred monster who scratches my wooden floor boards slept under my bed.

Mommy won't believe the existence of the monster. She believed that I read too much fairytales that I end up with these images and sounds. But how about my missing tulle skirt? I am sure it was the monster who took it!

A big, blue-furred monster who scratches my wooden floor boards and stole my pink tulle skirt slept under my bed.

One night, my dollies and I were having a tea party under my tent when the monster crawled out of my bed and stood by the shadows in the corner of my bedroom. He was crying.

"Tea?"

The monster slowly tiptoed his way to my tent and sat beside Mrs. Smith. He was wearing my skirt.

"What is your name, Sir?" I said while pouring tea on his cup, but the monster didn't answer. He took his cup, drank his tea and stared at me.

"A'righty then. Can I call you BomBom?"

The monster smiled, and reached out his hand. I shook it.

"Nice to meet you, BomBom. Meet Mrs. Smith," I said, pointing towards my rag doll. He shook Mrs. Smith's hand.

A big, blue-furred monster who scratches my wooden floor boards and stole my pink tulle skirt had tea with me before he slept under my bed.

From that night on, we had tea under my tent. We exchanged stories every night and they were the same tales I share with people.

A monster once slept under my bed. Now he lies beside me, singing me to sleep and in the morning when I wake up, he's gone, leaving me another story to tell.

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The Monster Under My Bed by KASH

Week 20

Once, there were three sisters who altered my entire existence. They were Hello, Stay, and Goodbye.

Hello, the eldest, was the hardest to talk to. Every time I would try to call her, my stomach would churn and my hands will be all sweaty. She had always been the most beautiful that I had been afraid to call on her. Now I regret the times I refused to call out to her out of my fear of disappointment. One day I had the courage to say her name, and that's when I first saw her smiled. "Finally," I remember her saying. Meeting her was one of the greatest adventures I had - she introduced me to a bunch of things I never knew. Hello was also the reason behind me meeting Stay.

Stay was undoubtedly my favorite of the three. She was sweet, and happy and adventurous. I often thought she was the youngest of the three because of her disposition. As much as I've enjoyed - no, loved - her company, she was fleeting and it hurt me sometimes. At one point I couldn't bear any longer hanging out with her that I left and bumped into their youngest sister.

Goodbye bore a mysterious charisma. Her hair and eyes were as black as night and they gave her a beauty so frightening. She was aloof and taciturn most of the time, but every time she spoke, the world would stop. And weep. She had the saddest stories among the three, but they were stories everyone knew.

They were three very different people but they come as one. Together they roam the earth and continue to touch lives. Sometimes people rejoice for it, sometimes they shed a tear or two. Nonetheless, they touch everyone.

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Three Sisters by KASH

Week 19

Their hands touched and an old, forgotten affection yanked his heartstrings. Surprisingly it didn't hurt as much as he'd expected. For one, it didn't feel like rubbing salt in an old wound as everyone described it would feel, nor did it tear his heart open. It felt weird meeting Abby again, he admits, but he couldn't give a name to the sensation he felt on seeing the girl he thought he'd marry after a long time. If it was pain, it was in a dosage he could bear. Six years was long, Adam thought - maybe it was long enough to mend a broken heart and repair shattered hopes.

It was a shock for Abby too, whose awkward smile was like the silence that followed this unexpected reunion. A girl with blond curls and flinty green eyes came running to them, tugging Abby's skirt.

"This is, uhm, my daughter Lily," Abby said, holding the little girl's hand. "Say hello, baby."

"Hello," the little girl said, waving her hand.

"Hello there little Lily. My name's Adam." he said, one knee on the tiled floor of the grocery store.

"Are you Mommy's friend?" asked Lily. Adam tilted his head to Abby's direction and back to Lily.

"Why yes I am. It's been a while since we've last seen each other. You weren't even born yet at that time,"

"I am turning six this Friday, and I'm having a party. Will you come to my party, Mr. Adam?"

Adam stood and looked at Abby - a smile on her face, giving him permission to accept her daughter's invitation.

"I'll be there,"

"Yay! Did you hear that, Mommy? Mr. Adam is going to my party!"

"That's good news, sweetheart. Now say goodbye to Mr. Adam. We have a lot to buy for your party,"

"Bye Mr. Adam!" cried Lily.

He watched the two walk away. Waving his hands, Adam can't help but be amused with the child. There was something about the little girl - she was just like her mother, he thought, and then it hit him.

It's Lily's eyes. She has his eyes.

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by KASH

Week 18

© Jaz Marsh

A faint scent of rain hung in the cold, wet air of that one December evening. It was drizzling, and there I was enjoying my cup of chamomile tea, sitting by the window with Champ contently purring by my feet. Stephen was on the floor, strumming his guitar. The notes drifted in the entire room and into the flickering fire of the fireplace.

"That's very nice," I said.

He smiled and continued playing that nameless tune.

"Tell me how much you love me?"

Stephen looked surprised but he stopped playing. "Well first off, I love you more than this guitar," he said, and placed his guitar down and sat beside me.

"And I love you much more than my CD collection of The Beatles."

"Hmmm."

"Mind if I ask you the same thing?" Stephen asked, holding my hand.

"Well," I said, and started thinking. How much did I love him? He kissed the top of my head.

"I love you more than coffee." He kissed me on the forehead.

"And cake." He kissed my nose.

"And cheese." He kissed me behind the ear.

"On second thought, not cheese. Just cake and coffee."

"Ha-ha." He kissed me softly on the lips and gently started unbuttoning his shirt that I'm wearing.

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by KASH