Creative Writing: Blame Celestine

Thursday, November 18, 2021 11:33:03 PM

Creative Writing: Blame Celestine



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CREATIVE WRITING: MODULE 2-READING AND WRITING POETRY

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She came to talk about what happened with Kuya. Well, what else do you expect from him? And Ate Kristine too! How could she even stand him??? He promised to bring home cake and wine for Christmas Eve, but all he did was come late to the dinner with two boxes of donuts! He also did the same thing with Clara, promising to buy her the thing she wanted and coming home empty handed. I originally pledged to buy the cake, but Kuya insisted on it because he said knows a good baker who just started a business. I ended up with a pledge to bring fried chicken.

I was so busy with commissions that I ended up ordering three buckets instead of cooking. Ate Kristine pledged to bring drinks and fruits. Mom said it wasn't a big deal. I just told them my head ached because of the amount of commissions I needed to finish that week. Am I being selfish for feeling this way? Is it wrong for me to feel so extremely disappointed and frustrated at my brother for the things that happened? Like Mom, Rizza and Clara told me to not make a big deal out of it. Even the little things that he forgets, dismisses, or ignores, when those things pile up, they still take up space.

Why do I find it hard to forgive him? Why does it seems so easy for them to forgive him? God, I need to do something to my eyes. Not even makeup can hide this. Celestine took a deep breath after reading both entries. She felt something warm roll down her cheeks. She scoffed at herself for crying while reading her journal. Somehow, the events felt like distant memories echoing in her head, the pain, frustration, disappointment she felt during those time bounced along the beatings of her heart. Since the lockdown, Kuya took charge of buying groceries for the our families. Last night, Kuya and Ate started a video call to share a great news. Ate Kristine is pregnant!!!

It's a bittersweet news, really. Most excited are Kuya and Ate. We can worry about the future when it comes, right? That is until I raised the issue about going out to do groceries. Not to Kuya. And here I was, just giddy excited to finally get an excuse to leave the house in the guise of doing errands for the family. Dad immediately snatched the laptop and took it in his office. In the video, I could hear Ate Kristine trying to calm Kuya down. I kept crying all night and only managed to write this down now.

I wanted to talk about it with Rizza, but she has her own stuff to deal with too. I feel so alone. Dad talked to me privately to tell me that he and Kuya talked it out. As if I intended to cause harm to our families. I did everything I could to make sure I was well protected when I go out to get groceries. I even use disinfectant spray before I load the groceries in the car. If I have to run away and hide, I will. Anything, just to be away from my Kuya. The last lines made Celestine feel sick. It was that day when she started packing her stuff.

She flipped the pages, the rest of which contained only scribbles and doodles, an odd documentation of the isolation and boredom she experienced during the isolation. Celestine buried her face on her journal and cried as she recalled what happened next, every scene as vivid as a movie being played in her head over and over again. The initial findings when Celestine got tested came out negative. This, of course, brought comfort to her and her family. Just to be sure, she still stayed in quarantine, locked up in her room. She continued working on her commissioned works, thankful for the wonders of digital art during this time.

It was only after Clara noticed something different from the way she spoke. Clara urged her to go to the hospital just to make sure, but she declined. There was no one else to drive her there, except their Kuya. The next day, however, Clara came to her room to help her get dressed. She felt too weak to protest. The next thing she knew, she was at the hospital, with the medical staff donned in their PPEs hustling and bustling around her. When Celestine woke up, she was back in her room.

Feeling groggy, she closed her eyes. The door opened and she managed to take a peek. Then she passed out again. Celestine woke with a start. She was on her desk. She fell asleep while reading her journal. The noise from outside woke her. She stood up and walked to the window. My father told me the story because he wanted me to be prepared for what was coming. He also said that my mother never loved Eric back. He was like a younger brother to her. Nobody could refuse a Reming. And then, just before the wedding, she fell in love with my father. Maximillan never forgave them. In the end, he caused the fire in the factory, the fire that killed my mother.

He had his horrible revenge. Eric, however, had a different story to tell. He said that my mother and him were the closest two people that ever existed. They all played tricks on her, they trapped her into their elitist, corrupt world! I will be the king of the new city of Cyron, and I wish for you to be my queen! My thoughts were fleeting, my mind dizzy from all that was said. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Now, I know it was a bad idea. But what if he can really change the world? I decide to go for a walk around the house. Eric even has a swimming pool. I get dressed clumsily and leave the room. I close the door behind me and as I turn around, two blue eyes greet me coldly.

Old times. A horrible expression to describe what we had. Even now, I tremble as I try to look at him. I made a horrible mistake, Theo, another horrible mistake! Once, you told me you loved my quirky, irrational behaviour. And now? Have you changed your mind? Were my flaws too much for you after all? I felt like crying. No, not now. I almost never cry and this is a horrible moment to start.

I had so many questions, and so many apologies, but Theo turned and left. Here are the links if you want to read the previous stories about the characters from the same world, the city of Cyron:. The city of Cyron is all we have. We do not know if more cities exist somewhere out there, beyond the safe borders. I hope they do. But just because it is sad to be confined to only one city, it does not mean that we should not feel lucky. Cyron gives us everything we need. We have our homes, food, schools, libraries and parks. We have our lives. Many people died in the Great War, but our ancestors survived and built this city from nothingness.

No one who remembers the War is alive anymore, but only to think about them makes me grateful to be alive. One of them was Alexander Reming, my great-great-great-grandfather. He was a great scientist who used all of his knowledge to enable this city to grow. I was named after him and I am proud to bear his name. He used his knowledge to do good, and I hope someday I will be able to do something similar. He is the reason my family is even today in charge of West Cyron, while the Thorne family is in charge of East Cyron. I just hope neither of these families will forget what brought us here.

It is their turn to do good for the city, and Alexander Reming is a person who could inspire them. That is why I chose him as a person I admire. I found this old school composition of mine in a drawer in my room, entitled A Person I Admire. Theo was always too much of a perfectionist for his own good, but he meant well. Underneath the serious countenance, he was warm and fragile. He always wants to protect me. Theo went crazy when he heard it. I will not allow Alex to marry him! All the innocent, sweet girls in literature are named Laura. The universe is obviously on his side, since I even look the part — tiny, big-eyed, pale, and blonde.

Well, my mother is tiny and blond as well, so I guess I never stood a chance. I even suspect that was the reason my father married her. He looks so stressed even without me complaining. When did my brother and I stop talking? When was this abyss created between us? Well, star may be an overstatement, but his band is getting more popular each day. At first sight, Ryder and I are the complete opposites, but we actually like all the same things. I express myself through writing and always have a book at hand; Ryder expresses himself through music and always walks around with headphones in his ears. When asked about a favourite colour, we both answer — black. I like it because I find it silent and beautifully dark; Ryder likes it because he finds it expressive and loud.

And we both love words. Sung or read, words can say so much, if they are used right. Do I love him? I think I do. But what do I know? Real people surpass any definition. I will find a solution for my unfortunate situation. I will not obey my father this time. I want to become the person the young me would admire. Anyway, you can read the previous one HERE. I also decided to name the series East and West.

Celestine said my father was responsible for the fire in the factory. She called him a murderer. Two families in constant war, and two children falling in love. This may sound as a Romeo and Juliet kind of story, but I doubt Celestine and I would die for each other anymore. And I doubt our families would bury the hatchet at our graves. In real life, love sometimes fades away. But I know now that I was wrong. To destroy my father, I have to get close to him first. I hate being around him, and around his slimy advisers who are willing to do just anything to keep their positions. And now, trouble came just when I needed it and I had to take advantage of the opportunity. If the general went directly to my father with this information I would lose this advantage. Born from a good idea, Eric Leigh became a monster.

Monsters inevitably give birth to other monsters. From an early age, Leigh hated how the Ministry functioned. He saw how unfair it was that all the power was in the hands of two families, or more specifically, two men who were allowed to as they pleased. He formed a sort of resistance, but he went too far. Leigh chose no means in his attempts to destroy the current state of affairs. Many innocent people were killed.

And then, the army shot Leigh whose body was then taken by his remaining followers. Or so everyone thought. And now, it was up to me to catch him. I knew that as a member of the Ministry I had to protect my people, even if it meant to put aside my personal problems. I can already hear you judging me. I did it during the night. I hid in the shadows surrounding the wooden barracks where Leigh was supposed to be hiding.

It felt almost too easy. And then I noticed that there were no lights in any of the windows. The place looked abandoned. It was easier for me to hide in this complete darkness, but it felt unusual. I came closer and saw two guards at the door of the first barrack. I tried to make a few more steps, when a hand grabbed me. Complete darkness fell before my eyes. Someone covered my head. I was trapped. The next thing I saw was a beautiful villa made of white stone. There were three of them. They tied my hands and I was forced to follow them into the house. For a safe house, it looked quite fancy and not easy to miss.

On the inside, it was even more impressive, with long hallways covered in marble, under the soft light of crystal chandeliers. For a person who hated authority, Leigh strangely enjoyed the high life. I had to concentrate. I had to survive this. This was the first time I saw Eric Leigh, but I had no doubt it was him. He was famous for his hair which turned grey when he was still practically a boy. Besides all the crazy killing, of course.

It was hard for me not to look away from his piercing stare, but I had to be strong. Fell into the trap, just like that. The idiot will trust me, I know that now. I will use him. I have a plan, a difficult one, with so many things that could go wrong, but I know it might work. In the end, I will destroy Leigh. But most importantly, Leigh will help me destroy the one I hate most. The city of Cyron is divided in two parts, one governed by the Reming family and the other by the Thorne family. The characters from this city have lived for quite a while in my head.

Now, I decided to give life to them, and write short stories from different perspectives, but I hope they would still work as separate short stories. Skip to content November 28, November 28, Irena 6 Comments. November 24, November 24, Irena 13 Comments.

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