She looked into the room where a woman was lying on the bed she’d shared with her husband for decades. He was next to her, holdingthe-reaper-296535_1280 her hand and stroking her now cold cheek. Her children and grandchildren were gathered round at the foot of the bed, seeking comfort and solace in each other. Her best friend, as grey and wrinkled as she’d become, was there; strong; helping hold everyone together. The lady wore a smile.

The one at the door turned to the cloaked figure carrying a scythe next to her and whispered, “Thank you. I am ready now.”


Pic Credit: Here

Written for Indispire – 64 hosted on– If you could plan your death, how would you plan it?



I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, the sky was its inkiest black – the colour before dawn. Disoriented, all I knew was that I had to get out of there. So I got up, and stumbled into what felt like the bark of a tree. The low hanging branches scratched my face but I braved their sharp sting and moved forward. None of that mattered anymore – except getting away before it came back…

winter-203548_640I had scarcely moved when I heard the sound of its feet cracking the dry twigs and dead leaves as it moved towards me. “How did it know so quickly!?! I have to get away!!“, I thought terrified. Afraid that I would end up on the floor of the woods just like those leaves, I abandoned all effort of moving as quietly as possible and began to run towards what I hoped was freedom. But, with every step forward, instead of getting further away from it, the Beast only seemed to gain on me. It was so close I could almost feel its foul breath on my neck.

At last, I could see the clearing. But as I got close, it caught up and knocked me down. While I lay there, sobbing and screaming hysterically, the Beast stood over me and I saw the strangest thing in its eyes – triumph, of some sort. The Beast pushed me hard into the ground and just when I feared the worst was upon me, it began to walk away; almost sure I wouldn’t escape even if left unguarded. As I lay there, petrified with fear I tried to clear my mind. “Had this happened before?“, I asked myself. “Why didn’t it just kill me? Why did it walk away? Does it think it’s got me beat?”

As the cloud of confusion slowly lifted, I realized that I had been running from this very Beast for a long long time. But, I was done running.

I desperately felt the ground beside me for something to use as a weapon. As my fingers closed around a heavy branch, I took a deep breath and hit it, with everything I had. In its agony, it rolled about finally lying still, just beyond the trees.

I couldn’t believe what I had done and longed to look at the creature whose death had brought my release. As the first rays of the sun painted the black sky orange and dawn arrived, I saw its face…

The Beast was me…


The biggest thing holding me back my whole life has been myself. Constantly doubting my ability to do anything and fear of not meeting my own expectations and standards, let alone those of others, have been my biggest hurdles. Yesterday, I read this at Damien Riley‘s blog: “Rapunzel up in her tower had an excuse: she was held captive.” and it spoke to me…

The time to slay the Beast has arrived.


Written for the Write Tribe Blog Carnival – 1.

Write Tribe


view-from-the-planeHe woke up drenched in sweat. But that was common these days. It had been a long time since he’d slept undisturbed and peaceful. The last was when she had slept beside him. Now, when he shut his eyes, horrifying scenes of battle played constantly – Blood. Death. Destruction. He was near breaking point, and waking up everyday with fear as his constant companion wasn’t helping. He was almost glad when he was shot and the doctors said he was unfit to go back to fight.

He turned, looking out. He was going home. With her, he would finally be safe.


Written for Friday Fictioneers and you can check out the other contributions here.

UBC30: When minors commit major crimes

On TV shows I watched when I was younger, when a teenager boy or girl complained about being “treated like a child”, a parent would whip around and say, “If you want to be treated like an adult, you’ve got to start acting like one!” (or something to that effect). I’ve always thought that was a smart answer and even memorized it, as you can see, to use on my future children, if they said that to me. I think the converse too holds true – when teens behave like adults, they sure as hell should be treated like them too.

If teenagers can think of and more disturbingly follow through with such heinous acts, why do we insist on treating them like children, for crying out loud? I cannot understand how human rights activists (no offense to any of you reading this) fail to see that they are often on a crusade to protect minors who are capable of committing MAJOR crimes! How is it that the victim takes a back seat and the age of the law-breaker becomes the most important thing?

I have nothing against a fair trial because I believe that if it is indeed fair, in cases of crimes against women, it should make no difference if the man on the stand is seventeen or seventy. Age is just a number and the punishment should be the same; death (which I believe is way too kind) or whatever else the court sees fit. The fact that teenage rapists get off so easy simply because they are tried in a juvenile court is almost akin to encouraging them. Like saying, “Go kid, do what you want now…before you are eighteen. Even if they catch you tomorrow, you’ll be out in no time. It won’t matter at all!”

I always thought justice was supposed to be blind. If she is, how is she supposed to read a birth certificate?



Written for Indispire – 23 on Indiblogger as well as for the Ultimate Blog Challenge