Just finished writing my second article for the Daily Express, my state newspaper. I'm writing a column a week now, and it appears every Friday in the Teen Spirit page. It's a page by the youth for the youth, where we're free to express our own opinions. Email me with suggestions and comments, greatly appreciated.
Havn't really been myself these days. I think I shall write a cryptic story!
Once upon a time there was a young lad. He wasn't unpopular, but neither was he the life of the party. He kept to himself most of the time, and he was a loner of a sort. It wasn't as if he didn't like people; He did, but he liked solitude of sorts most of the time, because he knew the evil in people, even when they don't mean to be.
At the beach one day, he was by himself (as usual), using a stick to poke at the fire he had started. The warm glow kept his hands warm from the cool sea breeze. Turning around, he saw a little, Crab. It was bright red.
"You're a Crab", the boy said.
The Crab denied and stuck her tongue out at him. "No I'm not!"
Soon after they started talking, and they didn't realise that the sun had started to set. The young lad felt as if he'd be able to stay forever near the fire, under the shade of the trees, with the breeze in his face, talking to the Crab who was Not. But he had to leave and they said goodbye.
After that day the young boy visited the beach everyday, and without fail the Crab would be there waiting. The fire kept burning and the warmth from it discharged into the air and comforted the both of them; The fire was never put out. Time and time again they would spend time just talking senseless babble until the time ran out and they had to leave.
The young lad began to grow attached to the Crab. Attempting one day to see if there was any compelling feelings for the Crab, he decided not to go to the beach. The whole day he peered out his window, knowing that the beach was so close and yet he stopped himself: It was a struggle. It was a hard, hard, terrible struggle. The next day when he visited the beach, the Crab was waiting, angry and sad.
"Why didn't you come yesterday?" asked the Crab.
"I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to see whether reverting back to my old life would change anything. And it did."
And they left it at that.
However, the memory of that day still haunted him. One night he confronted the Crab.
"What am I to you, little Crab? Why do you keep coming to see me? I did not ask you to."
"I don't need a reason. But I don't know."
And sick of the confusion, he left.
From that day, whenever he visited the beach where the fire still burned, the Crab was nowhere to be seen. But that wasn't the Crab's fault, because the young boy went out of his own way to avoid the Crab, because it hurt too much to see the Crab, for reasons of his own.
"And oh, I ran far away, far away, for I never wanted to see that Crab again"
The fire still burned. But it was still cold.
Mum says that my room should be done up by tomorrow. Went shopping for beds and shit today. Finally. A bed.
Imma find chocolate.
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