#skyeyaga

[skyeyaga]

Guilty or not Guilty?

There’s a loud screeching sound that wakes me up. I get up groaning, what a wonderful way to wake up. The world’s a little blurry so I reach up to rub my eyes, after doing so, I see a dark figure darkening the entrance. He looks down on me with a disapproving face, “You’ve been proven not guilty, you’re free to go.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, I’m free? After so long of being tortured by my fellow cellmates, seeing things I never thought I would have to see, I’m free? I leave my cell receiving my belongings on my way out and I change out of my orange jumpsuit into my white shirt and jeans. My oh my, I really have grown. My muscles are bulging out of my shirt and the jeans are a tad bit short on me. These clothes once fit a scrawny teenage boy. Look at me now, a late teen. I walk out of the prison feeling like a new person. But then I come to a halt, I have no one, no one to welcome me home with open arms, no one to love because they don’t love me now. 

It’s the first day being out of prison and I get out of my motel bed to get ready for a wander around this small town. This small town is the place where I grew up, so I’m looking forward to catching up with my old friends, see what they’ve done with their life since they already know what I’ve been doing. 

The long footpaths stretch out on the sides of stores that sell all sorts of things. I feel people’s eyes burning into me, I can’t help but blush because how could I forget? It’s a small town, news travels quickly. A group of girls walk past me whispering my name and story too loudly for my liking. Suddenly, I wish I was back in prison because at least no one cares what you’ve been put in for and if they didn’t like you, they’d say it through punches and poisonous words- not behind your back. I step into the grocery store and I wish I didn’t. 

I’ve been thrown into prison for a crime I didn’t commit. But no one knows that. 

I look around nervously to see every single person in this store glaring at me. The air in the room changes, I smell his cologne, the same guy who killed my best friend. My head snaps to look at this guy right into his piercing cold eyes. Killer eyes. The memories come back to me like my breath, the breath I’ve been holding for the past minute since I set foot in this store. Blood. There’s blood everywhere, there’s screaming that abruptly came to a stop. Red smudges and splatters on the wall. Everything broken on the ground. Two bodies in the living room, one standing over the other that’s laying still on the ground. I still remember that huge evil smile he had on his face, no one would smile over something like that unless they were crazy. Then he thrusted the gun in my hands while wiping his bloody hands on my shirt and fled the scene. No words were spoken. I couldn’t process this fast enough, it was like my brain just dropped dead, like my best friend. I realised what had just happened and I stood there emotionless because I knew what was going to happen next. As if right on cue, red and blue lights reflect on the windows surrounding the entire front of the house, I had no escape. The cops saw the supposed murderer and did not investigate further into this crime, they thought they had their guy. I was thrown into prison but that’s a whole ‘nother story. 

This guy was a free man, the murderer and no one but me knows that. No one believed me for 5 years until recently new information resurfaced showing that it couldn’t have been me who killed my best friend. But no evidence shows that it’s this, this insane man. I so badly want to put my hands around his throat and throttle him, but, I know better. 

No one knows that I’m not guilty.

[skyeyaga]

Not the Same

I know we all have/had fake friends at some point, just a little poem that people can relate to. You’re not alone on this. Enjoy!!

[skyeyaga]

Hold on. Think for a second. Have you ever had big dreams when you were younger? What happened to them? You gave up on them, didn’t you? Well, what about your huge dreams now? And don’t tell me you don’t have any dreams because that’s just untrue. Whatever dreams you have, I have five words for you: don’t give up on them. Dreams aren’t silly or dumb. Whoever says they are, then those people are just dream-crushers, BUT they should be the thing that encourages you to achieve that dream of yours because someone is doubting them. If your dream would make you happy then just go for it. 

One of the reasons why a lot of us human beings don’t put our dreams in action is because we think we’re too old to do that- that there’s not enough time now. But that’s just bull! In the words of C.S Lewis: “You’re never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” I think this is very true and if you want to open your own business, go for it! If you want to make your own fashion designs, do it! You want to make delicacies for pets, put it in action! No dream is dumb and you still have plenty of time left to do what you always wanted to do. 

Follow your dreams.

[skyeyaga]

I didn’t mean to kill her.

I look at her lifeless limp body laying in her own pool of blood. My eyes swivel to the red liquid painted on my hands. I look towards the knife now coated in crimson. I can’t help but allow some tears to slip down my cheeks and like a waterfall, it falls to the ground. How could I be so passionate about her, yet kill her? I walk towards the mirror placed ever-so-carefully in the middle of her kitchen and look at my reflection with a newfound hatred. Just look at him! Looks so innocent, yet did something so cruel and gruesome! I wipe away my tears furiously and snarl at myself. But then, yet again, I can’t help but laugh. All this because of some stupid woman who wanted to break up with me? After everything that we’ve been through? What about what we had? Was that not important to her anymore? My head begins to ache as the memories of a few minutes ago come flooding back in. 

“I can’t do this anymore! I’m in love with someone else,” She said, pushing me away as I was leaning in towards her. 

I turned to look at her angrily, “What do you mean you’re in love with someone else?”

“I mean, I’m in love with someone else and not you,” She replied.

I scowled as I reached out to grab a knife in blurred anger, “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Well, he’s kind and patient, he gives me what I truly desire.” 

I glared at her some more as my hand tightened around the handle of the knife, ‘don’t do it, don’t do it’.

“You’re just not good en-” She was cut off abruptly and looked in horror at the knife plunged into her heart. She gasped little gasps and stumbled away, falling backwards with a loud thump. 

A small giggle escaped my lips before I could even stop it.

I didn’t mean to kill her.

[skyeyaga]

The Man

He bent down to give the little blonde girl wearing a blue dress with white lace a lollipop. The mother who was holding the girl’s hand’s attention was suddenly caught by this stranger in a black suit and sunglasses. 

“Stay away from my daughter!” The mother slaps the stranger’s hand before her daughter could take the candy.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” replied the man simply. You could imagine how it looks with a man wearing dark clothes offering a child candy. Of course the mother had a reason to be protective of her only daughter. 

The woman walked off holding the small girl’s hand. The mother was wearing a black dress with a jacket over it. The reason why she was dressed so nicely is because she had a job interview and she walked into the building with her head held high- she was determined she would get the job. She dropped her daughter off outside the head office and the mother opened the door, turns out it was the same man who tried offering her daughter candy earlier. 

“Oh-I-um.” The mother blushed.

“Please sit down.” gestures the boss.

“I’m really sorry about earlier.” she stuttered. 

“Yeah, that’s why you’re not going to get the job.” says the man with a smug look on his face, then he points at the door. 

The mother leaves shamefully with a bright red face. She walks outside of the office and says, “Amelia, time to leave now,” without looking at her.

Her daughter didn’t respond and the mother abruptly spins around to look at the couch where her daughter should be sitting. That’s when she heard the scream.

[skyeyaga]

I Love You

The beautiful woman was walking on the street, wearing her best clothes. Another day of work, another day full of complaints on how the company should do better. She reached into her handbag only for another older man to start grabbing at her bag, “Give me all your money.” The woman beat the man down with her fist, shaking it after the impact. The man falls down to the concrete and picks himself back up, this time with a heavy black weapon in his hand. Before the woman could retaliate, there was a loud BANG. Then all was black. 

She wakes up groggily and is greeted by a friendly familiar face. She smiles weakly and grabs onto the wound in her chest, she knew she only had a few more minutes to savor before she goes. Her pale limp hand reached for his own. The young man looks up with glassy hazel eyes and looks into her own kind brown eyes while squeezing her hand. She was on a soft white mattress and was connected to cables. Her red hair spread out on her pillow, “Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” she smiles, “I’ll be in a better place.” The man brushes his fluffy brown hair out of his eyes and sniffs, “I’ll miss you... it’s not fair that you lose your life over nothing,” he adds, “Please don’t leave me.” The young woman laughs sadly, “There’s nothing I can do about it. But there is one thing I can do, tell you I love you.” He replies, “I love you too and you mean the world to me.” Then the young woman tensed up and closed her eyes while clutching her heart. Beeeeeeeeeep.

[skyeyaga]

I’m laying in my bedroom, wishing that things turned out differently. I’m staring up at the ceiling and then I just scratch my head. My attention is suddenly caught by the long scars that stretch all over my arm, they’re freshly red and it’s just an awful sight. I don’t think I have to explain exactly what happened but if you still don’t get it, I got a beating. The ticking sound becomes more clear, I look up at the clock, 8:15 AM, I should probably leave for school. I walk out of my bedroom, being as quiet as I possibly can be, I walk into the hallway and I hear the talking from the T.V. My foster parents are up, well I’m still not taking any chances. I walk past them and through the kitchen while grabbing a banana on my way. I stride through the front door, closing it behind me and just so you know, it didn’t make a squeaking sound.

I am cruising through the wonderful New York City, rubbish floats around, flying as if they’re real birds. The tall buildings are pointing upwards and they’re in the sky. People walk past me, wearing scarves that go up to their chins, beanies covering the top of their heads, big puffer jackets covering their torsos, and pants that go down to their ankles. It’s pretty cold as you can tell.

“Diego! Wait up!” says a girl while she’s panting. She runs up to me and is beside me as we are on our way to school. Not this girl again.

I say nothing. And no, I’m not rude, I just simply don’t like engaging in a conversation with this girl. I look at her and I notice the kind look in her sparkling hazel eyes, her mouth is smiling and so are her eyes. She kind of looks like... I shake my head, I don’t want any friends.

“Do you ever talk?” she asks. 

Still, more silence. I forgot this girl’s name, I think it was something like, Addison or Allison. Who cares anyway?

“Well, anyway, how was your morning so far?” she questions while keeping a smile on her face. 

I look at her, showing no expression whatsoever, I hope she takes the hint that I don’t want her here. She looks at me, she clearly is not taking the hint.

I sigh, “it was fine.”

Addison (or Allison) looked at me shocked, “you spoke! I’ve never heard you speak before!”

I roll my eyes and I begin to walk faster so I can lose her. She trails behind me, I turn a corner sharply and quickly. Then the school is right in front of me. I just wasted my time with that girl. I shudder. I walk straight onto the school grounds and as soon as I step foot inside the warm building, I get shoved in a locker. 

It’s been about 20 minutes ago since I gave up trying to call for help within an empty locker. You’re wondering how I got shoved into a locker? One word, Axel. Axel is this really big dude who is the quarterback for our middle school football team, he’s a charming guy with his fluffy, messy blonde hair and he’s not just all charms, he also happens to be a huge jerk. 

Him and his friends thought it would be a good idea to bully the weird outcast (me!), so they stuff me in a locker at the start of each school day. I’m usually in there for the entire school day, but I come prepared! I have some food, I start to dig into my schoolbag, which is really hard to do when you are in a very small and confined space. But then the locker door swings open and she’s there. I don’t know what to say...

Chapter 4 comes out next Friday!! Keep your eyes out for that! 

<3 Skye

[skyeyaga]

My Story: Diego

“Diego! What the heck are you doing?” Aw dang, it’s my history teacher Mr. Rogers. He is coming a bit closer, taking a step from the dark. As he is in view, you can see his stubbly beard and his blue eyes that suggest that you should fear him, his tanned skin glows from the streetlights, but there are many scars on his hands from I don’t know what. His huge arm muscles begin to tense as he gets a better view of me. He approaches me and he looks down on me, his chest puffed out. Mr. Rogers furrows his brows and glares at me. He is a very scary man. I try not to bring too much attention to myself when I’m sitting in his class, I’ve seen how he deals with the other kids. I’m honestly surprised that he even knew my name and who I am- this is not good. I gulp and look up to Mr. Rogers, I can almost feel his eyes burning into me. “What are you doing here at this time of the night? And all by yourself?” 

Ah, this is the dreaded question, I hoped he wouldn’t ask me this. “Um, I, um, I-I-I don’t kn-kn-know,” I stutter. 

“Where are your parents?” He questions.

“In their graves, dead.” I reply.

He growls, he must think that I’m joking, “Don’t joke around with me, boy. Do I look like your friend?”

“Well, you kind of look like my one friend who has a beard and he’s a white guy like you too,” I joke. Wrong move.

“Tell me, where are your parents? No jokes, is that clear?” He says firmly.

“Okay, my parents are dead. I have foster parents,” I say miserably. I don’t really like talking about my dead parents.

His brows then turn into a worried look. Mr. Roger’s eyes almost seem to soften a bit. “Are you meant to be out here?”

I look down at my feet, “No, I’m not.”

Mr. Roger looks like he changed his mind about telling me off, “I’ll let you off this time, just don’t let me see you here again.” He winks and then he walks away.

I look at him confused, I think I know what he meant, he doesn’t want to see me here again but he’s not telling me not to go out at night. Mr. Roger turns around to face me again and this time, I didn’t see death in his eyes, I saw kindness.

I go back home after that small encounter. I enter through the front door, trying to avoid the creaking of the door but failed, miserably. Remind me to oil that dang door. “Whaaat?! Diego!” Screeches a very screechy voice. There’s some flip flopping on the ground from a pair of slippers and I stand next to the door, scared. A shadow of a woman appears in the hallway. One slipper steps into view and then the other does as well. Mrs. Smith is frowning at me and her greasy blonde hair is a tangled mess. She has gigantic black bags under her eyes that reminds me of zombie eyes.

“What are you doing Diego?” She slurred, she’s obviously still drunk… 

“I’m just standing by the door,” I say simply.

“Have you been out and about?” She asked drunkenly.

“N-n-no,” I tremble.

“I don’t believe you for one moment,” she glares at me and walks off.

I thought I was let off scotch-free. Oh, how I was sadly mistaken. She comes back again cracking a long, leather object, here comes the belt… How I wish this never happened. 

Chapter 3 coming out next Friday!