What is his story, she wonders. He saunters into my garden like he owns the place, finds a spot and conveniently parks himself there for the rest of the afternoon. My human indulges him by feeding him food. She better not let him into the house though – that is still my territory. I’ll be damned if I let another claim what is rightfully mine.

It is more painful to be in love with someone, to experience someone breaking your heart than to be alone.

Dreams are a gateway to your subconscious, they say. So when I dreamt of you, smiling as if there’s not a care in the world and like how I thought we always were, I forced myself to wake up.

Enough is enough. Dreams are no match to the reality I’ve had to face with, that much is true. We will never be like how I’d want us to be. Best to wake up now, before it gets any further. Before I let your boyish smile and sparkling green eyes beguile me once again.

There is no moon tonight. I think it is hiding behind the shadow of the dark clouds that loom in the sky, fighting its way out. However, it has been getting steadily darker and stormier since dusk. I suspect there will be a thunderstorm tonight.

I shall try to be brave as the lightning flash across the night sky, illuminating my already shadowed bedroom. Or when the heavy raindrops fall, and I can hear every single drop on the roof above my head while below Mummy and Daddy slumbers like there is no tomorrow. Is there a tomorrow, Chris?

School was bad. I wish I can become invisible again. So I won’t have to face Mary Jane taunting me about you leaving because I was just too strange and weird; my hair too black and my skin too fair….and all the cruel things she’d said to me before you came. I hope that wasn’t the reason why you left. Even though I know it is not so, as your mother had told me endless times that you just have to go away for awhile and will be back before I noticed you were gone.

But I do notice. I notice the silence, the cold fear that grips me everytime. And then I’d remember if you were here beside me, you’d tell me to be brave and face my fears. And to ignore Mary Jane and all the other kids who don’t understand me, who are afraid of me because I’m different. Special, you said.

I truly wish I can see the moon tonight. Then I won’t feel so alone, knowing that you’ll probably be looking at the same, old, big and round moon wherever you are right now. Alas, the winds have started again. The cherry tree’s branch in the back garden has started to scrape the kitchen window, making a creaking noise.

It will be some time before I can fall asleep.

Katie Lune

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a sucky track record with men!” Katie exclaimed.

“It’s certaintly better than mine…” Penelope argued.

Katie snorted. “Honey, one completely ignores me, and I’m not really sure whether he just can’t find anything to say to me or he just can’t be bothered. The other shows up and sticks around when he’s in need of something, and then disappears when he doesn’t need me anymore. He’s not exactly the first guy who’s done that either, and trust me, I do feel like a doormat sometimes -”

“You’re not a doormat.”

Katie shrugged. “Maybe not, since it’s not like I’m crying over that fact. Thing is, I still do let him come and go into my life. While I may not be affected by it, or show that I’m largely affected by it, it does. In small doses.”

Of all the ones, you were the only one I least expect to disappoint me. Perhaps it was my fault to have laid all of this on your shoulders. It isn’t your burden to carry after all. You don’t know that you hold one of the last few pieces left.

I understand now, and apologise for the mistake. I shall endeavour not to make another one. After all, what’s left isn’t all that much anyway. Worthless. Tired and old.

I feel as if you’ve forgotten me. You had promised to write as you waved goodbye. Vehemently promised to write. And yet I have heard nothing.

Have you forgotten me, just as the others had? Have I become invisible now once you’ve moved away?

Katie Lune

He’ll break her heart, Head tells Heart. Because that’s how the story goes. It’s how it always is. But Heart wants to hope that this time, maybe it’s different. Maybe she deserves a break for once. Head tells her that hope is a dangerous thing, and not meant for people like her.

And Head is right.

Head is always right.

It was like a nightmarish version of her world. An alternate universe. Except she was much younger; but everything was different. She was confused. Everything was falling apart. She was falling apart. Lost. In a world not of her own even though she’s her.

But one thing remains constant through all this. She still feels the same for him.

Letters to the moon took the form of a series of letters, written from the perspective of a young, solitary girl between the ages of 10-13, to her friend who’d left unexpectedly. Unable to comprehend the sudden loss of her only friend, and lacking any outlet, she begins writing these letters and addressed them to the moon.

This was written years ago, as part of a writing-blogging experiment, under the pen name, Katie Lune. They were near completion, and hopefully, by posting them here, they would one day be completed.