He needed her. Ever since he first saw her when she graced his little shop with her daughter a month ago. Her image was seared into his mind. Even now, as he waited outside her daughter’s window, hiding in the shadow of the tree, he could only see her.

She was beautiful in a haunting sort of way. For a little girl, she held herself with a certain air, as if she were older than she actually was. He ignored the thought and continued to watch her, want filling his body and spreading out from his gut. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He slowly made his way to the back of the house, careful not to step on any fallen twigs. He looked up at the mother’s room, the light out, and smiled. He walked towards the back door, his hand automatically reaching up onto the door pane and feeling around for the spare key that the  mother kept there for emergencies. He had been watching her for weeks.

He turned the key and gently pushed the door open, a feral smile gracing his features. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He listened to the stillness of the house, his heart racing in his chest as he realized just how close he was to his little jewel.

He navigated his way upstairs, drawn by some invisible string to the little girl’s room. He paused outside a door with a “Ula’s Room” sign hanging from it. He smiled once more, slowly turning the doorknob, and pushing the door open.

And there she was.

She was lying on emerald green sheets, curled up on her side, facing the window that he had been so focused on just minutes ago. He watched her; the way her red hair had settled in a halo around her her, the way she curled her hands up close to her chest, and the way her pale skin seem to glow under the moonlight.

He walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He set his pack down and quickly sat on top of the little girl, covering her mouth with his palm. She thrashed under him, her eyes opening to reveal opulent pools of crystal blue. She grabbed at his hand with feeble hands, as he stared at her, happiness clouding his better judgment. He didn’t notice when her grip on his arm tightened. He did notice when her eyes changed colour.

Before he could react, the little girl threw him from her, his body slamming hard against her bedroom wall.

“What the fuck?” he sputtered out, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He stared at the seemingly weak little girl, now standing in front of him, her eyes no longer the stunning blue that caught him, but a deep maroon that terrified him to his core.

He backed up against the wall, wanting to be away from the girl. She smiled at his attempts, her teeth pointed and sharp. She stepped closer to him, giggling as he tried in vain to escape her. She didn’t even give him time to scream before jumping on him, her little hands clawing at him.


“Ula, you’ve made a mess,” Ula looked up from what was left of the man, licking blood from her fingers and putting a sliver of meat in her mouth, “Blood is difficult to get out. How many times have I told you? Kitchen is the best place.”

“I’m sorry mommy.” Ula took on last glance at what was left of the man and walked towards her mother, “He came into my room. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Fine,” she hugged the little girl to her, “Let’s clean this up and get back to bed. You can sleep with me tonight.”

“Okay.” Ula replied looking up at her mother and then at the pile of bloody clothes and meaty pieces.

*Note: Ula is Irish for wealthy which is what I think of when I think of diamond. Ula and her mother are supposed to be some sort of Irish faery creature but I couldn’t remember what they were ><


Don’t Stop Chasing

I think that one of the biggest reason why relationships do not work out in the long run is because at one point, one side (or both) stops trying. Before one claims another person as their significant other, they would do anything to make that person happy. They would chase, they would flirt, they would be charming. They would send daily morning and goodnight texts every time you wake up or go to sleep. They would write corny messages and pick up lines just to make sure that there is a smile upon your face. But once they claim you as theirs, all of those things eventually stop. The 5 page texts slowly turn into 1. The constant calls turn into not calling at all. And the lovely endearments turn into daily arguments. In order for a relationship to work, don’t ever stop chasing. Just because the person you want is now consider “yours”, it does not mean they deserve anything less than the time when you’re trying to win them over.

I found that on tumblr and it hit me that this makes a lot of sense. I’ve seen relationships both in my friends’ lives and in my family’s lives that have fallen apart because they stopped doing the things the aforementioned paragraph mentions. Then I think of the couples that I hold as ideals and I see that they, in their own ways, accomplish each of things mentioned to keep a relationship going. 

However, I can see how this all might be seen as becoming insincere or needy or both. But I also think that if a relationship has a strong foundation, then the chances of all these actions being seen as insincere or needy, are low. I don’t really have a lot of experience in things of this nature, but I do have a lot of experience observing couples who I’ve noted as being in love and having strong relationships, especially the ones I’ve seen that have lasted since I was born. 

Long story short, to keep a relationship from falling apart and becoming stale, it might be a good idea to try and do what that paragraph suggests. I have yet to experience it myself, but I find the idea quite sweet and romantic. Eh. I seem to have lost my words here.


She stared at her door, her heart racing despite how still she sat on her bed. She could do this. She had to if she wanted to be happy. If she wanted to live. Making the decision, she got up, grabbed her backpack and messenger bag, and walked out the room. She saw the dull blue light of the television fill the living room and the hallway she was in. She walked slowly, careful not to make a sound. She could hear them. Their soft snores and the quiet chatter of some late night show. She quietly entered the living room and looked at her sleeping parents. Her father with his arm around her mother’s shoulders, their faces so much younger looking, the worry of the day slipping away as they slept. Looking at them, she thought that she could love them and that they could love her.

She knew better now. They couldn’t love her and she certainly couldn’t love them. She took a silent breath and walked out of the living room and into the front hall, her ears carefully trained on any sound from the living room. She walked right up to the front door and internally cheered as she turned the handle.

“And where do you think you’re going this late at night?” she froze as the cold steel of her father’s voice sliced through her relief, “Turn around Izzy and explain yourself.” despite herself, Izzy turned around, her face hot with anger and embarrassment.

“I’m leaving.” she said, looking directly into her father’s glare, open rebellion and hate present in her brown eyes.

“Ha, no you’re not.” Izzy’s stare caught her mother as she came into view, “Now close that door and get back to bed.” Her voice was covered in sugar but the threat was there and Izzy noted it.

“NO,” Izzy replied, clenching the hem of her jacket, “I am leaving and there’s nothing you can do.” she said resolutely. She began to back walk out the door when her father pulled a small handgun from behind him.

“Please, Isabell, just go to your room. We don’t want to hurt you.” her father pointed the gun at her head and clicked the bullet into place, “Please.”

“You can’t shoot me,” Izzy stared her parents down, “I know better. I know what I am and I know you can’t hurt me!” she shouted before sprinting out of the house. She ran to her car and unlocked it, thankful that the boy who she had met a few weeks ago helped her debug the whole car so they couldn’t trace her. She got in and started the car, pulling away just as her parents came out of the house, guns held in front of them. She saw them in her rear view mirror, staring after her as she drove off. Izzy knew that they still could have shot her from that distance, she wondered vaguely why they didn’t.