What is happiness 

What is happiness?

Whether it’s walking, talking playing a game. 

Singing, dancing ,talking to a friend

Doodling, writing , kicking a ball,

Happiness can be found in us all. 
The human brain is hard to comprehend

There’s all these chemicals causing mayhem up there, 

But being happy is quite distinct 

It’s a silver lining dividing mental streaks. 
It’s that something.
We are often caught up in our anxieties,

The world itself could be quite dire, 

The fear of tomorrow nudging you gently 

Stresses of the day 

Feelings that you’re failing 

Thoughts that are easing you in that bitter sweet maze. 
It’s hard to remember what it feels like sometimes. 
But take a deep breath and count to ten. 

Believe you me, I have been there. 

Found myself in that dark alley, 

Shouting at all these things imaginary.

But it gets better. 

You are safe and you are loved. 

Making every second count. 

It’s a statement that has always been around but I did not pay much attention. 

Too scared for an intervention.  

But one day while in that alley a light flickered. 

The first sign of brightness encountered. 

And with a swish it was gone. 
But it was there. 
That little gleam brought me some comfort. And I tried opening my eyes further. 

And as days went by the light turned on and off again. 

Day in night out it appeared again and again.

I could finally breath. 
That little something kept me going. 

Realising that light was something more. 

A smile from my friend, a well done job. 

Slowly and surely more lights appeared. Scary at first but never the less real. 
I am alive and I’ve never felt like this before.  

It’s the little things that make me go on. 

I take mental images, I mash them up and keep them safe. 

And when the light flickers again, I bring them out to share.
I’ll be okay. And so will you.

Happiness is from what makes you, you. 

So go ahead, and smile to the world. 

You have something worth living for. 

Your happiness.  

And if you’re ever in that alley again, keep a bag of all the things that make you feel safe.

It truly is the little things that amount. 

Make every living second count. 


I’m letting go of you

I sit down on the chair behind the cup of tea I just made and think of how we met and where I went wrong. 

One year. One year was the expiry date for us. For our love.  

I take a deep breath. I know I should stop thinking about it, but memories are all I have left. 

When we met you promised to be my friend and then you promised something more. Course I believed you and let myself be taken away by promises that made my heart flutter.  

It’s been days. Days since you finally showed me the truth. The real truth. You wanted me happy and for that you used beautiful lies. Well. Congratulations you had me foolishly happy. Until you met her and decided it’s time to stop the charade.At first I thought you were joking, pranking me was something you always liked to do. But then you said, remorseless that you changed your mind, that it’s too much, that I’m too much. 

Looking back in retrospective, I saw it coming. More and more unanswered texts, less of the smiles, less of the you. 

I gulp down the leaden ball of feelings down my throat and wipe away the tear. It’s okay. All breakups are like this.  I’m not going to cry myself to sleep or marinate myself in pity. I’m okay. With or without you I know who I am. I’m not denying that there will be moments like this where these thoughts will streak my mind and taint my mood. But for the moment it’s enough.

I manage to decide on something. 

I throw away the now cold tea and I pick up the bag with the things you left behind. I put on the red shoes I know you liked and walk out of the house to the place where we always met up. That park had always meant something for me. 

The walk isn’t long but the content of the bag seems to weight more and more with each step. One, two, one, two, right, left, right, left and finally I make it to our place. I manage to get over my shortness of breath and take a look around. I notice that the sky seems to resemble my mood, and for once I don’t mind because that means that the prospect of pouring water had sent people away. More space for me. 

I pick a spot and turn the bag upside down and the content spills in a pile at my feel. Letters, pictures, notes. Everything relating to you. I grip at every page and rip and tear apart your neat words as I let my anxiety howl. 

Why her and not me?

Why now and not earlier?

Why play me? 

Why do this to me?

Why leave me like that?

Why. Why. Why. A swirl of questions surrounds me as I feel my feelings bleed out one more time and the wind blows the shreds of a perfect future away. 

There. There’s you . I’m letting go of you. 
Story written by Princess Larra

It all started with a box 

Christmas fairs are something I enjoyed a bit too much. Given that our school shared my point of view, the festive season was something I always looked forward to. 

Every year the seniors had to organise a sale in aid of a charity. Theoretically, I shouldn’t have been even thinking of participating given that being 15 and a junior didn’t really give you much opportunitues however, being the teachers pet did. 

And so, on that wonderful Thursday of the annual fair, I found myself sitting at my own, personal, stall. It wasn’t something major, just a few things the craft club managed to string together in the course of a few weeks, however for me, that meant responsibility, something I knew better than I knew my own name.  

I was really excited. I lined up all the handmade earrings, photo frames and bead work, plastered a giant smile on my face and waited. The people arrived soon and I was thankful for the place I was in. Between the brick-a-bracks and the dvd stall, I was doing pretty good.  I didn’t get to talk to much students. You see, I knew absolutely no one from other years but mine, so I had no clue how to instigate a conversation. Plus the guy at the stall beside me seemed to have a lot of people to talk to anyway so I didn’t really want to bother him. I knew he was nice. I’ve seen him around the school sometimes but I don’t think a “hey. I know you. I’ve been watching you” would be a great conversation starter so I gave up. 

I had a good time and sold quite a bit. I was soon to go but decided to look around. I cleared up the things and got my bag. I walked all around the hall and, even though I swore I’ll be good, I still bought 5 cookies, 3 scones and a jam tart. They really should stop selling food. 

As I was about to leave, a little jewelery box in the stall next to mine caught my attention. It was gray and small and brand new and I knew my mum would love it. 

“Sorry, how much is it?” I asked the guy I mentioned earlier. What was his name? 

“In an economy like ours, this is worth a fiver bit I’m gonna give you a discount.” Anthony. His name was Anthony.

“A discount on what basis?” I asked.

“On the basis that you’re cute.” Wow. Smooth. We both laughed and he handed me the box. 

I walked out the door that day and what I find funny is that I didn’t know that Anthony was to become the most important person in my life really soon. 

And it all started with a box. 

Written by Princess Larra

My take on recent history

I’ve always thought about it, talked about it to the point where my friends and family grow sick of my remarks on the past events of my life. I like to think I’m an adequate storyteller and that I’ve got stories and events that people like to hear, however, nowadays I try to suppress my pretentious nature and try not to make a big deal out of myself, but I think that in this space, in this topic, I might give my pretentious side some breathing space and document my recent life events and history. So, prepare yourself for some teenage angst infused stores and pitiful relationship and break-up tales. Although I promise some might make you giggle. Therefore, would it be possible if one can sit through this and deal with my bitter sarcasm and rhetorical questions?

I’m not entirely sure why, but I think I’ll start this timeline to about five year ago. A dorky, naive, coddled, chubby twelve year old embarks on his first year in a big and scary secondary school. Social status?  Invisible, only to emerge when when someone needed my homework. Relationship status? Much like the promise of an Irish summer with no rain, non existent. Just a swirling vortex of false hope and friend zones, I did try to be acquainted with many girls. I just got denied at every turn. My dad always said ”no makes you grow”, well, dad, It is now 2016 and I’m still only 5′ 6′. And this, to be honest, is a bigger scandal than the making up of Santa Claus. If there was any moral lesson that first year taught me was that the best things in life don’t come on a silver platter. Yeah, that’s the extent of little Andrew’s philosophical wisdom. Pretty cute but I don’t like to brag.

Second year, things started too look up, my height unfortunately was not included in this. This four foot something boy actually got friends this year! Actual friends who texted me asking to come out with little heart emojis and x’s at the end. Were they pitying me? Probably, could they be using me? Most likely. But I didn’t have a care in the world. Looking back I think this is where I developed a real need for attention. This sounds pretty pathetic on paper but this trait of mine led to always feeling the need to impress people and it’s that ambition that got me through a lot in life until now. The event that proved to be the catalyst to the explosion of my social life had to be my school trip to France. Back in the day where schools could literary ”make it rain” with money. Of course, my parents had to pay some degree to the expense but seeing as I was still a humble 13 year old, I could never imagine what real financial strain was. To me, that only meant when my mum couldn’t afford to buy those expensive MO cookies that I could dunk in my tea. Now. Back to France. 3 days of frenchness, sights, Disneyland … and getting slapped on top of the Eiffel tower.

So I showed up at the airport, in a terrible yellow hoodie that I thought made me look skinny. My teeth chattering like crazy, my breath coming through my teeth’s gritted form. I thought I was an anti dragon, breathing ice instead of fire. I’m somewhat embarrassed to say that some of my childish mannerisms like that still exist today. Nonetheless I was happy with the comforting warmth of the airport as I stumbled through the automatic doors with an awkward travel case by my case. I say awkward because it didn’t like to go where I told it to, the wheels were badly damaged as my sister used it a week beforehand when she went to Spain for a hen’s night. Sorry for the sidetracks, I only realise now my memories are structured into mementos through time, it’s quirky, but annoyingly quirky. My teeth were still clattering not out of coldness but out of sheer nervousness, my parents abandoned me, I was convinced I was gonna die in the plane, plus the ”girl of my dreams” was standing beside me. I put inverted commas on it because not just is that statements giving me cringe attack but I’m imploring you to come to terms with the fact I don’t think of her like that any more. Back then, puppy love was an understatement. I wheeled her heavy case through customs and the department gates for her. I thought I was being a gentleman and might be in with a shot. To her I was basically a human mule. Poor little Andrew didn’t even know that he had been placed in the friendzone. A place where no person escapes from, you are doomed to live a life of never being attractive to your crush, only to be a friend, or ”a brother”. It was fa fate worse than death.  Definitely no hint of exaggeration there.

It wasn’t all bad however. I was introduced to this new thing called ”socialising”. Much like hard drugs, I got addicted. I found myself in a small group of friends, and they actually  thought I was funny! Me? Funny? Whether they were laughing more so at me rather than with me didn’t matter, I was with a group of friends and I liked it. From this I learned how to actually talk to people my age, how to talk to girls and not come across as creepy. Ultimately  learned that if you risk nothing you gained, the so called ”girl of my dreams” (this is the last time I mention it, I swear) got a boyfriend and got a boyfriend and eventually paid no attention to me . She did nothing wrong of course, she had a right to be happy, I would’ve liked her to be happy with , but I never made any sort of move. But everything happens for a reason . Despite my pessimistic nature I think we all have a destined path and destination in life. Death, is only certain. Just kidding I’m not that negative? Just contradictory as you have seen!

A girlfriend? Yes a girlfriend, that is what awaited me in third year. The year of unnecessary worry. This girlfriend started as a friend, like they always do. This is where the story gets muddled. She had a boyfriend and yet she had feelings for me. Tricky situation right? As the opening line of this paragraph would suggest, everything got sorted and my girlfriend and I are living happily ever after. Unfortunately (or he-insight, fortunately) no. I was what the love sick, heartbroken romantics call a ”rebound”. The day after her and her boyfriend split she came crying for me, this affection had me going crazy and I played all my stupid 14 year old love to her. We went out for a week and I bet I can explain all events that happened: we went shopping once, we kissed once, we went out again and talked awkwardly, I got a text saying things were ”too rushed” and then she dumped me. Close to bang on two lines! I later discovered she was flirting with my best friend all the time so to explain my entire month in a year, most likely betrayal. From this I learned how cruel and crushing relationships can be and never to trust anyone again. Well, in in all honesty I tried to stay loyal to the second lesson but unfortunately I’m too trusting. You know the phrase ” I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you”? Turns out I can throw people a flipping country mile. Metaphorically speaking I’m the strongest person on Earth!

The walking contradiction that is myself struck again in the summer of 2013 when I asked a girl out who I’ve been texting for just 5 days. From that moment she was to become the biggest part of my life for the next two years. Or just about. All in all we were together for 1 year and 10 months. That’s a long time for a teenage relationship in my opinion. Like 456645646654455 in teenage years. We were ”relationship goals” as it were and I have to agree, we were pretty cute. For the both of us, it was our first serious relationship. So we both kind of taught each other things. I taught her to have respect for herself, that she was in fact a pretty girl. She taught me to be more comfortable in my own skin and to be even more sociable. I understood what commitment was and also if women say they’re ”okay” they are most certainly not! Even thought this all ended in a puddle of tears, eventually I realised I was the one that taught myself  very valuable lessons. From getting heartbroken I promised myself that I’d never let anyone consume me in that way again. I’ll never let anyone have the ability to make my day again. If I’m happy I don’t want anyone to dictate that. That’s  not to say I’ll never fall in love again. I want that a lot. The girlfriend I have now I will love endlessly and I care for her and cherish her. I just hope I won’t be consumed again, that I won’t lose myself and If God forbid something happens and we break away, there will still be a piece of me that remains. I’m not heartless, just cautious.

At my age we are still growing as people, life events and the actions we take will define who we are. If you want something, go for it, try to surround yourself with good, trusting friends, as we are all social creatures and need interactions. This history of mine over the past five year show everything happens for a reason. In life, you’re gonna get hurt, and betrayed, but right now, and for the rest of my life, I seriously think the good will weight out the bad.

Story written by IntellectualRedHerring

Another Vampire Story

Okay, so this is a project I’ve started a long time ago, which I couldn’t forget about. It’s a longer story, and I don’t focus on actions that much, as I do with character development. I want to see where it brings me, so there it is: Another Vampire Story. 

Chapter 1- Beginning of the beginning

Serenity POV

The glass broke into a thousand pieces and a smile crossed my face. I can be so clumsy sometimes.

I clean the mess I made quickly, but a piece of the shattered glass cuts my finger, and I had to refill another piece of my extravagant china with water, while looking for a plaster. All at the same time. It doesn’t sound great for my not-so- good coordination. Fortunately, no more accidents occur, and I move my feet lazily back to the loveseat and look for the history book. Hmm, I was sure that I left it on the coffee table. But no. I headed back to the kitchen and there it was. The book with the pages torn and yellowed from the amount of times it was used.

This happened way too much in the past two weeks. Things disappearing and reappearing. I really must take a proper holiday. I start having hallucinations.

I went back to the living room with my hand occupied and slouched on the sofa. I opened the book on a random page. I wasn’t very interested in it, but I needed to get me away from things.Of course, I could start another case, but this is too boring. It’s either a precious jewellery being stolen or someone murdered.

Don’t jump to conclusions. Being a detective like me,is very hard ,but in my 24 years, I never missed a case and I can say that I’m the best in this branch. The cases are always repeating.They all follow the same pattern. So, just like I have said. Boring.
I lowered my gaze, towards the bottom of the page, at a black and white photo where 3 pairs of eyes were looking at me. The captioned read : ” Sons of sheriff disappeared without a trace. White Grove- 1830. In the picture (from left to right) Lewis , William and respectively Benjamin Farewell.”. I studied their faces briefly for a second. The old, bearded man, with crinkles at the eyes and kind smile was the sheriff for sure -William. The one beside him was a boy no older then 16, with a round that face that beheld both childhood and maturity- Benjamin. And then, there was Lewis. I studied him in more detail than the others. He was beautiful. His face seemed sculpted, no older than 25, and had a smile so innocent, that it made me smirk just by looking at it. I closed the book with a thud.

I had a feeling that I was being watched. Stop Serenity, I thought. It’s paranoia. Just paranoia. I’m a detective after all, I must always feel this way, right?

I looked at the clock, which I positioned above the Plasma t.v. It read 22:04.

I got up slowly and headed to my bedroom. I changed into my baby blue pyjamas and looked around my room for my phone. I scanned the large bedroom quickly, went past the double bed, covered in red silk sheets, past my bureau, containing my old- dusty laptop and towards the wooden wardrobe, but no. It wasn’t there.

And then, it started ringing.

I started running in vain desperation that the ringtone won’t stop, almost trip on my own slippers and end up in front of the… rubbish bin???

With disgust I lowered myself and picked up the lighted object,which was my phone, from the bucket in subject. Clearly, I needed to visit a psychologist. Losing stuff like that… It doesn’t sound healthy does it?

I finally looked at the screen and see 5 missed calls from mom. Ouch. I will have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Even thought I am full-grown adult, she still doesn’t trust me.
”Sometimes I don’t even trust me, myself…” . I sighed and looked up to meet my perplexed expression reflecting on the shiny surface of the mirror.How much I changed in these 3 years. I remember the girl I used to be with melancholy. It was hard for me to move and leave my life behind, for a much, much bigger city, far away from my family, who now live miles away. It was so hard, for a small girl like me in a big city with huge dreams. I remember how happy, and lucky I thought I was when I got into DeTinvo. Of course, for a girl that still was in college, it was hard to gain the respect of others. I mean, a coffee girl doesn’t sound to prestigious. But when a twisted case came up, I was the only one to know how to solve the puzzle. And since then, I am seen as the ”specialist”.I finally climbed the ladder of success, only to realise how mischievous this world is. To be fair, the pay check isn’t to ignore. This helped me buy my beautiful house, but sometimes I think that the money is just not worthy any more. If you were to choose between money and career and friends, spare time, freedom, what would you chose?

I think that, personally, I made the wrong decision.

And this had consequences. Especially physically. My deep brown eyes lost a bit of the sparkle they had , and you find a big pairs of dark circles underneath them, all framed by huge glasses, my lips aren’t as red as before and there is definitely no more gloss about my hair. I sighed.

Yes, I definitely made the wrong decision.

But I can’t back up now.Not when so many people count on me. Especially Skylar Jenkins, who waits for Winters to be behind bars. I will not let this customer down.

So, I might just as well, build a bridge and get over it.

And as always, the train of my thoughts bring me farther and farther away, until I reach my one and only ”taboo” subject- him. The person that made me feel so different, in such a good way, from the first time I saw him, working in the company, and always smiled the smile that I loved. He made me feel so special. I smiled reflecting back, but then a frown crossed my face. Everything was fine until the last day , he loved me until that very last day of late August…. I was never important for ”him” was I? He was the reason why I smiled everyday and now he is the reason why I cry everyday.

A tear rolls down my cheek and I quickly dry it away with the sleeve of my pyjama, I promised myself that I would never shed a tear for ”him” ever again. A promise that was broken from the first day.

But, after all, I shouldn’t be crying, should I? I mean, more than a year has gone by. I really have to get over it. Life is more than sulking everyday. I HAVE TO MOVE ON. I shouted to myself. I am going to become myself again. The happy version of myself. The version that I like better. I smiled. I wouldn’t let ”him” get to me again.

With sheer determination in my eyes, I set the alarm for 7 am, and arranged myself under the silky sheets, and slowly drifted into the world of dreams, where for the first very time, I was the queen.


Written by Princess Larra


Liebster Award!


Just want to say a huge thank you to Cosistories ( https://cosistories.wordpress.com/ ) for nominating me! I feel really honoured. I’m new to the WordPress Community and it feels great for someone thinking of my blog.

Alrightie. Here we go!

My Favourite blog: Unfortunately for me, I haven’t had as much time on WordPress to discover much so I will have to come back to this!

My Top Ten Random facts:

  1. When I was five I decided I wanted to be a nurse until I got my first injection, blacked out and decided that this will not be a good career choice for me!
  2. I know the lyrics of High School Musical off by heart ( Hardcore Disney fan here )
  3. I love memorising. As a result, for my fourth class play, I memorised a full two A4 pages worth of a poem.
  4. I love eyeliner ( however, I’m terrible at it)
  5. I’m awful at bowling ( my little sister bet me so much!)
  6. I love raw mushrooms. Yep. No comment there.
  7. Romance novels are my favourite!
  8. When I was seven I had this little frog who became my favourite, I carried it everywhere!
  9. English isn’t my first language,
  10. Twilight was the book that got me into fiction ( TO MY DEFENCE I WAS 12).

To answer the questions myself:

  1. Kittens or puppies or other (I don’t know. Like fox kits or something else?)? Ahaha, honestly, I can’t decide.
  2. Is there anything you would never write about? No, I don’t think so. I believe as long as the human mind can think of something, the writer’s oasis of words will never be subdued!
  3. Do you listen to music when you write? If so, what kind? Sometimes. And honestly it depends on which mood I’m in. Sometimes it’ll be a Disney marathon, sometimes I’ll remember my Avril Lavigne phase, or just whatever is on the radio.
  4. Do you ever outline your stories or do you just go with the story’s flow? I go with the flow. Although I learned the hard way that having an outline helps!
  5. If someone gave you a hippopotamus for Christmas, what would you do? And if you decide to keep it, what would you do with it? I would let it take me on to an adventure!
  6. What made you decide to start blogging? I have so many words I feel are dying to get out. Sometimes it’s hard, but when they’re there, staring back at me it feels good! And for people to read that seems amazing!
  7. Have you ever read a book that made you irritated with its lack of logic and/or its incredibly stupid characters? I feel I should say Twilight, but it is a book I hold dear to me for many reasons. Hmm, no. I believe every author has tried so much in bringing characters to life, who am I to say that that world isn’t logical?
  8. Have you ever found yourself laughing out loud as you’re writing? Yes! Haha. I’m proud of my puns sometimes.
  9. Jelly beans or gummy worms? Jelly beans.Mmmmm.
  10. If someone gave you 10,000 dollars in a grocery bag, what would you do? And, if you decide to keep it, what would you do with it? Fly to every single bit of the world.


My nominees are: 




Questions for my nominees:

  1. Favourite book.
  2. What keeps you motivated to blog?
  3. What got you into blogging?
  4. Chocolate or jellies?
  5. Favourite food.
  6. Favourite musical and why?
  7. Apples or oranges?
  8. If you were given the opportunity of a superpower, what would you choose?
  9. If you were to talk to any famous person, dead or alive, who would you pick?
  10. What would you do if you were granted one wish?

Now the rules are as follows:

  1. Thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.
  2. Display the award on your blog.
  3. Write a 150-300 word post on your favorite blog that is not your own. Explain why this blog is your favorite and provide links.
  4. Provide 10 random facts about yourself.
  5. Nominate 5-11 bloggers that have less than 200 followers for this award.
  6. List the rules in your post.
  7. Inform your nominees that they have been nominated for the Liebster Award and provide a link for their blogs.
  8. Create 11 questions for your nominees to answer.

Thanks guys 🙂

Princess Larra.

The drawing

I can’t draw.

I know. It may not sound too dramatic to you but I am an artist. I need to create. I need something. Anything. But lately I couldn’t get inspiration anywhere. And for me, that’s a tragedy.

Nothing is right. The economy of this country is terrible, we will all die one day and my bed squeaks. Like, seriously.

I can’t look on line for a solution to my problem without throwing up over a quote written by an angsty teenager disguised as a renowned philosopher. Just so you know, I’m in no way depressed. Like, I would know if I was, surely depressed people aren’t this sarcastic? I mean, that takes effort. Right?Well, its effortless to me, but I suppose I’m one of those outstanding people…Who will be defeated by no inspiration and die…of natural causes?

See! Most people with depression say they’ll die out of loneliness or a broken heart! I’ll just take normal death, please. With a side of bitterness and of self loathing.

Jesus, I may be deprived out of inspiration but I sure as hell aren’t out of crappy commentaries.


So am I blank? I may not be able to display my artwork, but I can sure display some posters at least, of my favourite video game or monkeys doing human things, like wearing headphones and as such. Yeah, that’ll inspire me! ”Since you’re thinking of these posters and their imagery, won’t you just get inspired from that?” Shut up brain! I wanna spend something! Who knows? Maybe even the walk to the local shop will inspire me?

I’m a landscape artist, if I see something that I think says ”hey buddy, I’ll look good on a piece of paper” then I’ll draw it… then stuff it away in my drawer when I become sick of looking at it.

Now, on the way to the shop! Most people, at this point, would think ”eww, walking” but I rather like it, when I have my earphones in and it’s just walking down the road, I don’t know. It’s the people I see. Their stories that I imagine. The pictures that come into my mind. However, it soon became clearer that as closer I got to my destination, the less inspired I felt. Turns out this walk was worth drawing at one time or the other! I remember drawing them, the traffic lights, the sign posts, the roads.

Getting to the nearest HMV, I plunge into my search, flicking through the sea of colours and bands. I found a break dance banana doing the splits and a bunch of snowflakes saying  ”Be chill”.I’m a sucker for puns so I had to get them. I only had enough money for two anyway.

I walk over to the queue and the cutest cashier ever was just to my right, and no, it wasn’t a self checkout.By God, she was so small, I was amazed to see that she can look over the counter. Okay, maybe a little exaggeration, but she was tiny, and adorable as hell. Her smooth brunette hair was dyed blonde at the ends, dorky and cute glasses were framing her face and her timid smile prevented me from seeing that another till with a guy at the helm was beckoning me forwards and judging by the annoyance on his face, he’s been doing so for about 20 seconds already. I pretended I didn’t see him until the other check-out was free.

Now, I know, I could hardly ask her out over the counter, how pathetic would that be? Plus, I’m a potato for God’s sake! Anyway, I give her the posters  and she scans them. Or at least tries , while apologising over and over again as she struggles to make the thing go BEEP, which, you must admit, is a satisfying sound even though you know you’re about to lose money. Eventually she does and I add in a sarcastic ”that was quick” in an attempt to make her laugh. And she does! That’s a first.

Anyway, she tells me the price, and I pay her the money, pathetically lost in her gorgeous chestnut eyes when this giant, LITERALLY A GIANT, comes over and asks me ”Did this idiot charge you 22 Euros for two posters?” ”She’s not an idiot!” I shout..say..mumble..think. I say nothing just like a deer caught in the headlights. And I watch this beautiful girl on the brink of tears, getting verbally abused by this asshole while everyone in the store just stares. And by the looks of it, it wasn’t the first time. She storms out the back door crying and the guy offers to give me the posters for free.

I’m not sure what comes over me, but I actually say ”fuck off” and throw the posters in his face. I don’t know why, but it was just unfair, for her, for anyone to be treated like that.

As I storm out of the shop myself,I see her familiar face on a bench nearby. I walk over because I know I may not be good at talking to girls, but I’m good at apologising to them at least!  And that’s what I try to do, but she is so upset and before I know it I open up my arms and she’s tucking her head neatly into them. I’m actually hugging this girl, on a bench.

We stay like that for a while that seemed like a second and an hour at the same time, before we realised what we were breaking our socially awkward stereotype we’ve both tried so hard to live up to!

”Joseph” I say my name to try sound cool. She replies with ”Cara”.

I want to say more, tell her how beautiful she is, of how much I wanted to comfort her, but she says her mum is here. I totally forgot I let her use my phone during my apologetic speech. She says thank you though, a courtesy I’ve never properly received and haven’t loved until that instant.

”My bed squeaks a lot.”



Great! My Goodbye was gonna be that? Incredibly, she actually laughs and gives me one of them goodbye waves… You know the really cute that girls give? I’m literally in heaven.

I know what to draw now, but this one is definitely not going in my drawer!

Story written by IntellectualRedHerring