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We are only left with the choice of questioning its existence. Illusion... or is it a dream? Happy to have read you

It's a lot of mess in my mind about the last point you made. You could see the second chapter and it will become clearer... It's not only the age between them, it's about how they view that affection they share. Jace is a little... well... gifted. I mean he reads a lot, he writes, he is a person who treasures the soul. (I won't take the story into the ancient fight body-soul) It becomes a problem for others to understand him when he questions the little and simple things and views them differently. (Needless to say he is, more or less, me...) Of course the feelings of love can't be explained with deep thought. It becomes a conflict... So easy and yet not at all! Yes, the only people who know about him are Hayden and Reece. About the age thing... I can't seem to remember how the mind of a 14 year old thinks. I don't remember myself at that time, I mean what kind of state of mind did I have... It's strange! But Merry is smart! How else would he write it

Fairy Artists There is an old scripture which tells us about the trial of the fairies… According to the legend, these elfish creatures were summoned in front of the court of magic to receive their judgment for the treason they had committed. No magical creature was to ever show itself to humans – that’s how it has been since ancient times. Little is known about the story behind the legend. The fairies, supposedly, formed some kind of bonds with the humans and made them aware of their magical

I'm not saying a writer shouldn't be taught. He shouldn't be blindly lured into the opinion of people. He learns all the time, from himself, from books, from life, from other authors. If another person instructs him, that should be viewed as guidance, not as repetition of the other's experience. In that way of thinking the person who teaches the writer should be his 'master'. That was what I meant. As for the body language of Jace, during his speech, remember that he wasn't all that awake and he didn't really want to say anything at all It's true that I wasn't very descriptive with the physical language, but, again, it is left to the imagination of the reader. A thought crosses my mind. You know about the Russian classics, Gogol, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky... so on, were masters of the description. Every detail, every moment, each movement, gesture, object... was presented richly in words. Yet, dialogs, which went pages long, didn't have interceptive thoughts or comments at all, or very little. No one talks like that today, because no one has that way of thinking. Is it real or not? It's up to the style, which will define the situation. I know how annoying it is when a certain awesome story has grammar and punctuation mistakes, it kills the pleasure of reading!

You're right! He has feelings for Merry, he's in rage, so a little familiarity and closeness can slip out of him. Thanks for that. Hehe, you had fun reading the scene with Hayden, I was laughing uncontrolably when i played it in my mind before writing it.

Hehe, I know, I get carried away with the commas I put them where they should be in my own language. I know that it's different with English, but I strangely feel there should be pauses in those places. I don't have a choice, I'll have to get better.

I don't really know what effect such mixing of forms has on most people. I've done it a lot of times with other works. The effect on me, when I read it in books, stories, novels, is like sinking deeper into the plot and thoughts. It sets a different view, so it emphasizes on the previous. As for my own, I just feel it that it could somehow 'happen' that way and I try it.

They're not two different people. I've made a mistake, it's Ashton WOW! Thanks! To know that I've made you remember something through my story, like Jace, I get this nervously-happy feeling in my stomach, hehehe

Hehe, this review comes seeing the publish date. But it doesn't matter, right? The idea is not new, but the way you have written it is original. I don't know about you, but I will certainly punch in the face the one that leaves the young to die (when i meet him, that is). It is true that meeting Mat was a way for Paul to learn that his life has a meaning and to learn about himself. Fate (?) gave him the chance to find love, which was unknown to him, a year before the 'sentence'. A happy ending, we think, a happy ending for Paul, given the circumstances. But what about Mat? Our empathy wouldn't be strong enough to see it through his eyes. It is a beautiful and emotional story, written with the right pace. Best wishes =)

“Jace, are you gay?” Merry asked. Wow! This shocked me. The question came unexpected! Okay, calm down. Try to put things straight and explain how you feel… “Umm…” But let’s go back a little through the day. Better, start from the beginning. I couldn’t exactly sleep tonight. Be it there was a sudden show of affection and a kiss within hours reach, which my mind still couldn’t process. I now knew, however, his name, Marian, no, Merry – that’s what he said I can call him. It could have

My plan didn’t last long, though, because as I entered the room where the Creative writing class was supposed to be, I saw him sitting at the back, looking into his notebook. He was here! He was everywhere I went today! I stopped at my tracks by the door. How was I going to pass through this? I could feel the nervousness begin to swell in my stomach. As I gave it enough thought, Reece did mention he had a thing for writing and I, myself, knew from my observations that he always carried the same

Over the next few weeks I began to notice little details about the boy when he passed through the halls. He had an adorable charming smile and every time I heard his voice or laughter it made me all jizzy and nervous and the butterflies in my stomach stayed there through the whole day. Everything about this boy was amazing, even if I didn’t know him! He always carried the same notebook with him which made me wonder that, maybe, we had the same interest. I also noticed that he was always wearing

It feels great to see comments and feedback! Thank you. I will write more about writing (yeah). It will be interesting to see if the thing you felt would stay. How close is the familiarity (to you) or is it exactly the same as how I feel it

Thank you so much! I'm happy that you liked it. The story was meant to inspire and rise questions. Because of the topic, I don't know how exactly can I continue writing it. I mean, much like Zac, I'm searching my own path to deal with it all. It's best if I leave it like that. It will follow its own road in whomever read it

Hey, thanks for the comment. I really appreciate it! There are a lot of ideas in my mind about the next chapters. Hope I don't disappoint you if you decide to read them, hehe. As for the commas, English is not my mother language and I place the commas as I would in my own language. I know it's not an excuse, but I will try to learn and correct =)

He was a freshman. The first time I saw him was a week after school had started. He had something unique that drew me to him. Maybe his face, or body, or the way he walked, his whole entity and existence. He had medium length blond hair, which he tied in a ponytail – it made him look really cute. He was slim and not very tall. By the look of his clothes I could tell he was a skater boy. His style was flawless; whatever he wore it always looked great on him. We often passed each other in the hal

Jace has talent for writing. Also a little 'secret' that only his two friends know. He becomes drawn to a boy from school, who intrigues him, and finds out they share the same passion, along with another thing in common.

Thanks (:

A wall in front of me, a mountain without a tunnel, without a way to pass. It reaches the sky and spreads it’s darkness. With my soul I try to conquer the depth. The wall speaks, it tells the truth – the secret key, that I have hidden. To reach my soul – unlock the mask the wall will help me be myself. I look at the stars and stand on my feet. The truth is a lie. I cross the wall, it crumbles under my own two feet. Because I seek the

Solitude in the white or freedom of the soul. The black is white, but white is black, the pen misguides my thoughts and lets me wander in the depths. But there shines the light and I write the white again. It’s empty and yet so full: to see your heart written down, on the ink to feel my soul. To life they come and live their own filled with love ways. White is now not the paper, but my inner-self and thoughts.

In the sky above He watches how we live our life. He may watch, but I too see him in my soul and heart. I know not what I live for or what He expects me to do. I know only what my dreams are and the path to make them true. My guide is me – my inner self, the one the most I care for. To believe in Him and see my fate today I’ll live like never before. To meet me He will come one day, like a distant friend to give me love. The He and I will

Seekers of your soul... Some free verse poems...

To a better tomorrow A dedication… I look at the sky tonight, the stars being the only ones I share parts of my soul with, and think to myself: “Is this it – the only thing that life has to offer? Isn’t there something more?” Tomorrow is the first day of summer vacation, but why is it that I do not feel like my friends and everybody else about it: free time, partying and all of the other fun stuff that could be done only when there is no school. I feel alone, now, in this qui

Alec is displeased with what life has to offer him. He longs for something more, something new to experience. One night a boy saves him, a different boy, who is traveling with the circus that has visited Alec’s town. It is a story about questions and answers: “Is it right to be happy when others around you are not?” and the path to deal with the world’s pain.

Old, young... does it really matter? It is a state of mind, of course. The reason why that, which we call magic, is gone, when people grow up, is that they learn to understand (the world and themselves) and do so. And later on most view that magic, which is irrational, from a view of a rational mind. Hehe, enough with my empiricism ramblings. I am just trying to say that a person becomes old, when he stops to experience new things. It's absurd to think that there is a boundary, set by some numbers. A strange, funny thought that crossed my mind... What do you imagine you would look like and be like, when you pass into the other side, I mean die (Not that there is any point in doing so, but for fun). Young, old, your 20's, 30's, teenage years, old years... Hmm?