Zenomite - Dai Champion

Long ago, there was a group called the Knight of the Light. These knights' uniform had the emblem of trust the Holy Knights were. They were there to prevent and halt any chaos against the Kings and Gods. However, one of the most trusted generals of the King, Sir Devildom was plotting against the King to overpower him. On the night of the 13 Stars, The King held his grand feast. Devildom crashed the King's royal dine and challenged his power. The enfeebled King stood no chance against the Devildom’s Dark Forces and had his life taken away along with all the Knights of Light.

After that day, the world fell into chaos. There was nobody to stand up against Devildom. Many have tried but all have fail until the Gods dealt with Devildom and sealed up him and his army of Darkness. Yet the hero who will protect the civilians will break the seal and challenge the wicked General. The gods give the dwarves an enchanted sword for the hero in his battle.

In the human village of Lithero, there was the chosen one Erard. He was athletic, strong and very good looking and there is his half brother Zeno, the loser, the zero, the person no one likes. They were chosen to go and fight. The villagers were unsure why Zeno went…

On the way to the Dwarves’ mountain, the two young men came along some difficult of Shadow Elves pursuing them. Since Erard was the stronger out of the two, he knocked out the Shadow Elves. Zeno had located the dungeon, which led to the village of Dwarves.

The dwarves, who misread the situation, thought that the boys were intruders that want to take the sword as a treasure of their personal use. Erard got arrogant and boasted that he is the chosen one and he will challenge anyone for the sword. The biggest of the Dwarves, Colon who stood 7-feet height, had the hands the size in which can crush skulls. Colon challenged both the boys in a weapon battle.

Erard, who was so full of him self, gladly accepted the task whereas Zeno was a coward of himself and turned it down but was forced to fight because of his brother. Erard shown first blood and strike viciously at Colon. Colon parried the attack like he was a fly trying to bite him but failing each and every time. Colon’s defensive skills were overwhelming against Erard’s aggressiveness. Colon attacked Zeno, while just evading the swift sword swing. Zeno’s shirt was ripped and cut. Zeno fainted; lying on the floor, a dwarf noticed on his arm was his birthmark. It was the shape of a sword but it wasn’t any sword it was the God’s sword. He was the chosen one.

After Zeno’s awakening, he saw Erard infuriated claiming there is a mistake. As strong and handsome was Erard might be Zeno had the heart and the respect for others. The Dwarves knew the legend, if the sword can be lifted that person is the chosen one whether they are criminals, dark elves or dwarves for their case.

The two warriors climbed to the top of the mountain. Erard wanting to prove he is the right choice, rushed to the top. He attempted to lift the sword, as hard as he tried, the sword didn’t budge. When Zeno got to the peak. He lifted the sword as if it was a feather. Suddenly, an aura appeared around Zeno. Erard didn’t believe his eyes and burst into anger and tears. Erard challenged Zeno. Zeno had to fight him or Erard kill everyone. Before Erard struck his sword broken. In full of shame, Erard fled out of the village.

Zeno is confused whether he should ask his brother to calm down. But there is no turning back now; he must fight the Traitor of the Knights of Light. On his way to the Tombs of Sealed Ones, the General was already released and resurrected, but who could of revived Devildom?

Zeno rushed to the graveyard, saw his brother sacrificed his body for the spirit of Devildom to overtake and absorb his flesh and bones.

Devildom is there, stand high and tall in Zeno’s brother’s corpse. His Dark Amour vanquishes every ray of light but the ray of Zeno’s sword.

Devildom looks at Zeno, aiming him as the first victim of darkness. In everyway Devildom was like Erard. They fight alike, their tempers. Could it be a conscience or Devildom is his father?

Devildom shrieking at his mortal enemy; “You must be the child of my Former King”

Zeno stood there and said nothing. Deep inside filled with fury and anger until the sword drags Zeno striking the Corrupted General. Their blades converged making the sound of grating steel. The battle went on for hours until Devildom slipped. Zeno took advantage of his situation struck Devildom’s decided fate. Devildom is gone.

Using all of the hero’s adrenaline causing a heart attack giving the young man a happy death. He fulfilled his destiny. Afterwards the sword was named Zenomite, reflecting on the hero’s name and strength.

My Story

Under a hood and cloak was a man ready to kill, a natural leader and a presence that you would tremble in or commend to. Wielding scars above his lips exposing wounded skin where his thin beard couldn’t grow over anymore, while across the left eyebrow a deeper, gut much shorter scar and below, the eyes, the bright brown eyes to a guided, wise and strong individual destined to change history.

Perching from his vantage point on a ledge overhanging a tall house he crouched down carefully in a ready position before analyzing the setting of the roman courtyard marking out possible escape routes after assassinating a Borgia Captain. The best way seemed to be climbing up and fleeing through the rooftops.

Minutes later a small patrol of guards approaches, in front the captain. With a deep breath he leaps from the ledge, triggers his hidden blade, lands on the captain pinning him down and swiftly jabbing the sharp blade into his neck while the accompanying guards watched in shock and amazement giving the hooded man a brief window of time to get up on his feet. Before they could react he fleed through the rooftops

“Assassin…” whispered the guard in trepidation.

Moments later in a wealthy yet small, high class area of Rome he fleed to a large building designed with shined and polished marble etched with intricate designs. This was home to the Leader of the Assassins a strong, confident and knowledgeable man, Ezio Auditore.

And as for the Assassins themselves they are a guild following Ezio in his cause against the Borgia, an evil monarchy feeding off of Rome looking out for only themselves, raising taxes, murdering innocent civilians who stood against them slowly taking the power of Rome away from its people. The Assassins one mission in the city is to fight their corruption and treachery eliminating vital individuals restoring peace and giving the power back to Rome's and its people.

Leading this evil monarchy was a former captain general but now a ruthless tyrant, Cesare Borgia.

Over the last few years the hold on the Borgia have been loosened due to the Assassins and the city had become more free to open businesses, shops and many other services. Blacksmiths, doctors, merchants were setting up more and more driving Rome’s economy and blossoming it.

At the Assassins’ headquarters Ezio summons a meeting. It was the hour of reckoning. “Assassins, it is now that we must strike the Borgia The last of their captains are dead. The final blow must be struck. ” Mere whispering is heard from then.

Their plan commenced and after days of being disguised as civilians they executed the first step of the plan. Met up back at headquarters then changed into their battle attire, long, white silk hooded cloaks, overplayed with metal chest armor flourished with elegant patterns and steel, wrist worn, mechanized hidden blades. The trademark attire for an Assassin accompanied by any other clothing the wielder chose. Their next move was to infiltrate the Borgia castle where Cesare was.

Upon arriving at the castle they split up and climbed the walls by bare hand being taught upon initiation long ago as well as studying the enemy, the raid was excellently weak planned by Ezio. They all knew what their roles, positions and routes where. The Borgia thought they had the Assassins running.


Once finished climbing the walls they sat on towers where they watched patrol routes. Spotting a passing squad of six, six out of the ten Assassins of the took their positions, signaled by Ezio’s hand commands. Running down the separated towers they flanked the guards pulling out their hidden blades and in swift jabs in the neck, the guards fall. The rest of the Assassins follow. Later a wondering guard finds six dead Assassins. Six guards soon accompanied four Assassins to Cesare Borgia.

“My ruler we have four prisoners” says the guard

“At least, did you think you get away, you scum? I would have found you sooner or later” With a proud smirk he commands “Hang them in the town square, let the people see what they think of these so called Assassins. After they hang.”

After being dragged to the town square is was suspicious why the guards who captured the Assassins still lingered for this long. The look on they peoples faces. They looked in anguish. It seemed as if the citizens routed for the Assassins. Cesare had no second thought, he wanted them dead.

The noose was tied around Ezio and four others, then, he spoke. “People of Rome it is now! To liberate ourselves! To cleanse this city of the Borgia. The Assassins are here now! Reunite and take back your city!” The crowd cheered, the plan was had succeeded. Spread rumor of the Assassin liberation, step one, in desperate times people will believe in any savior, positive rumors about Assassins and foul words about the Borgia were the first step. Then the guards cut the rope around the prisoners’ necks. They were Assassins in disguise. It was step two. Lure Cesare out and catch the Borgia off guard. Then the third plan. Cleanse the city.

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill Him!” chanted the citizens. But Ezio was merciful.

“Cesare, you, by the people have been banished from Roma. Leave!” The chanting faded. The peoples faces looked as if they accepted his punishment.

Then, accompanied by Ezio and the Assassins, they drove his carriage away into the sunset, both sides were never seems again. Besides for the dispatching groups of Borgia, leaving Rome to start over.

If you read through ALL of this, nice! I kind of wrote a bit too much but trust me i did try to make it shorter.

Death's Embrace

A soft ballad wafted through the house - but something wasn’t the same. Nessa woke up in a storm of rage, and ran downstairs. 

“Declán!” she screamed.

The song abruptly stopped as his last note reverberated. 

“Yes Ness?” 

“I’ve had enough! This is the last straw!” 

Declán sighed. It had been weeks since they had lost everything. The only things that remained were their house and piano. 

“How can you wake up every morning and just accept your fate? Was it OUR fault that this happened? No! I refuse to stand idly as everything i’ve ever worked for crumbles in front of me.”

He had heard it all before, and he knew Nessa was right. Ireland’s crisis had brought their seemingly endless happiness shuddering to a halt. 

“Ok, so what do you propose we do? What CAN we do?”

“Take Cowen Down.”

“You can’t possibly think this is his fault!”

“Then whose fault is it, dear brother?”

“Nobody’s.”

“Ugh!”. Nessa swore under her breath. 

She knew that something had to be done, they couldn’t just let their country fall into ruin. Everywhere you looked, people were unemployed. She knew that they couldn’t live on savings forever, most didn’t even have any. Those who did would see their life’s work slip out of their fingers, and then what? It was time to act. 

She knew that Government was a dirty business, and she couldn’t let Ireland’s Taoiseach run it any longer. But what was she to do? She didn’t even know herself. Finally, after days of rage, she decided. She was going to freeze hell.

The streets were dotted with color as Dublin’s very fabric ripped apart. Thousands were chanting in Gaelic and hurling rocks. Nessa stood on a plinth and watched. In her mind, she was admiring the power of people. How Tunisia changed the world she thought. First Africa, now Europe. She though that she could change the world, one country at a time.

Then, the seemingly peaceful protest turned into a frenzy of violence. Water jets shot sky-high and smoke rose from the streets. In the distance she could hear gunshots - and then they ran. The wave of people surged through the streets, and it wasn’t long before she was caught up in it.

“Declán!” she screamed.

All she could hear was noise.

“Declán!” she shouted again. 

But there was no answer. Just noise. Time seemed to slow down as dublin whirled around her. Faces. Hands. Shoes. Her vision was a blur. And then she went under.

The solemn beeps of the medical instruments were the only sounds audible. Declán’s cold, hard face looked upon his dying sister. She had been dragged under the stampede and crushed by the rampage. They were lucky to find her alive. 

“How is she doctor?” he asked.

“She’s still in a coma, and only time will tell now”.

The doctor rushed off with his coat swinging round him. There were more people here than Nessa. It turns out civil war broke out that fateful day, as groups of pro and anti government protesters clashed. It seemed that revolution is a carbon copy. Russia, Egypt, all paid in blood. The few hospitals that weren’t closed were full, with patients treated in the hallways - the doctors had to prioritize. 

Declán’s attention returned to his sister. The life support system was beeping away, but it seemed as if she was gone already. A tear fell to the floor, and Declán clenched his fist. This was personal now.

The veil of rage had clouded his vision. He was ready to do anything to get revenge. 

The streets were still chaotic, with trucks flying by twice the speed limit and people running everywhere. He didn’t care. He kept his Glock in his pocket, to obscure it from view, and ran toward the parliament building. When he got there, it was already packed. A wall of police was dousing the protesters with foam, and a clear line around the building was formed. A few molotovs were hurled, but they never had a chance of hitting their marks. Declán waded through the crowds and got to the police tape. 

Two shots were fired, and two policemen fell. The tape split, and he walked up the marble stairs. Shouts. Anger. Two more rounds went off and the door fell open. “NESSA!” he screamed, was enveloped by death’s embrace.

The Flemish deception

“The art to every theft is deception. You see, all the greatest thefts of time had  one thing in common. No one new something was stolen.”

The two men sat opposite each other. Paris was alive around them waiters performing their job as if it were an art, tourists absorbing the unique atmosphere and Parisians radiating their passionate perspective on life. The man across from him  was an excellent example, dressed with class, boasting an extravagant air, and above all he spoke with the signature ‘Non-chalance’ of a Frenchmen. In front of him he had a small espresso with a glass of sparkling water beside it. he lifted espresso of its plate treating it like a delicacy as the french could enjoy quality. "So what, do you want?" he watched without much surprise how the man
"What do I want?" the man chuckled. "you should know by now I want allot of things.” he looked straight into the man’s eyes as he took another sip the espresso, searching for an answer.
“well i guess, Davinci’s last super, Van Goch’s sunflowers, Rubens Venus, Rene Margritte’s The son of man, Michelangelo’s Discus thrower, and his last ever sketch, does make for quite a collection.” he looked at the content man across from him and watched him nod slowly at the mention of his collection. ”But of course, i forget your prize possession, Davinci’s Mona Lisa. The most legendary painting on earth.” he looked again at the man, searching for clues as to what this man wanted from him.” So tell me, why, a man with the worlds greatest treasures in his possession, comes to paris to meat with a theif.” tere was a pause as the man across from him drank the last of his water and slowly leaned back in his chair laying his arms on the wooden armrests. He adjusted his suit and then looked up, and as if it were the most obvious thing in the world said “I want more.”

First Draft of My Short Story

Hung Le

The Initiation

Let me tell you a story.

It is a story of how a Sicilian born man, christened Luciano Russo was initiated into the Mafia. It is a story about me.

My dad was a trusted soldato in the Moretti family until one day he mysteriously killed – the reason and how he was killed I do not know. Hatred and anger eventually motivated me to join the family. I therefore drove to the compound of the Moretti family in Little Italy, New York and pleaded to be initiated. Antonio Esposito, a high ranking caporegime agreed and said:

“I think you should know this before joining. If you decided to go in, you go in alive. But if you decide to go out…” The man didn’t need to finish the sentence, but he did. His whisper was like a strike of thunder.

“…You go out dead.”

٭ ٭ ٭

As I entered the heavily protected compound consisted of several blocks of houses, I had a feeling of fear and excitement. Although this was one of the moments to cherish, Esposito’s words rang in my ears long after he emitted it. The front door of the main building was made from veneered wood showered with delicate details only the most meticulous carpenter could offer. I pushed the heavy door and entered.

Antonio Esposito was, as I thought, expecting me. Next to him were two men about my age who will probably be initiated also.

As he led the men and me up a flight of stairs, adrenaline rushed through my veins and I knew that this is my time to shine. These are the people that I always wanted to be – running their neighbourhoods, dressed in tailored suits and eating in those five stars restaurants, driving those fancy Rolls-Royce cars, going out with fancier women, running a court as a last resort for maligned people who needed it, operating in the world in which, back at that time, had seemed mysterious, powerful, but unobtainable.

Esposito broke my train of thought as he opened the door, which led us into a dark study. There was a huge table at the back, on it a votive candle, a picture, a dagger, and a gleaming, unloaded Colt .45 – the basic equipments for an initiation. At the back of the table stood a small man and although I’ve never met him, I knew who he was – Don Salvatore Moretti.

“You all know why you’re here, gentlemen. Luciano, I am terribly sorry about the loss of your father. But no worry – you shall join us to preserve our greatness and avenge your father’s death.”

“Thank you, Don Moretti.”

He made a swift motion with the picture on the table.

“This is the patron saint of our family – St. Leolucas. You men of honour are soon going to become la famiglia Moretti.” The Don paused to pick up the dagger, the gun, and transitioned his speech to Sicilian. “If you agree to join, this thing of ours must come before your mother, wife, or children. It must come before God. If you are summoned while your mother is on her deathbed, you will kiss her fevered forehead and leave to do the bidding of your superiors. You shall use the knife and the gun to protect us. Do you agree?”

We nodded.

The Don raised the dagger to prick our right hand’s trigger finger and made us squeeze the picture of the Saint so that the pressure would make blood pour out. He then lit the pictures with the candle and put it into our hands, telling us to rub it together back and forth.

“If you ever betray your friends,” Don Moretti said, “you will burn. Like the picture of our beloved patron saint now burning your bloodied palm. Do you agree to this?”

“Yes, Godfather.”

“You are now qualified men,” he finally said, “Gli Uomini qualificati. Please introduce yourselves to your brothers.”

There was a huge applause as we all hugged each other. I then thank the Don along with the caporegime and started for the door. However as I was heading out, Esposito closed the door.

Something was wrong.

“They can leave, but not you.”

“I… I – don’t understand.”

“Confused now, are we? I think it’s only fitting for you to know how your father died before you die!” Moretti hissed menacingly; Esposito held a gun to my head.

“What the –”

“We killed him - your father for his betrayal. Hah! He thought he was a ‘big shot’ when we started the narcotics trade so he took a liking to the Martini family, who happened to come up with the idea first. That stupid bastardo broke the omerta – the code of silence so my friend here, Esposito had to blast his brains out with a lupara. No hard feelings, kid but this is how it work. Have a good trip.”

“You figlio di putt- ”

Esposito shot.

٭ ٭ ٭

My story

The antique store

Waking up from that vivid dream again, it was the third time I had this dream in this week. I glanced at the ticking clock. The night was absolutely quiet. So silent that the tick tock sound of the clock made me felt annoyed. This time, I didn’t try to get back to sleep immediately like the last two times. I kept repeating that short dream in my head in order to go back into it.

As I recalled, the dreams always started with a fat, furry, white cat. The most memorable feature about the cat was its blue transparent eyes. It went on staring at me for a while then led me through a narrow alley. In the end, I was in front of an antique store, the cat already disappeared. Some small statues of animal could be seen behind the window of the store. They were moving around and chatting. The antique store was attracting me. Sometimes I even heard voices coming from the store. As I was reaching the door, the dream ended. I had never been inside.

“Meow… Meow…”- The fat cat from the dream was now meowing in front of my wide-opened eyes. Before I could react, it jumped away from me. It took me exactly one second to realize I wasn’t on my warm fluffy bed anymore. I was then lying on the cold hard stone floor inside the antique store. Without any hesitation, I stood up and had a quick overall observation of the place. The store was as marvelous as I remembered. There were many shelves on the wall, all made of wood. The animal statues had different sizes. They were wandering around the place. They were very detailed, skillfully made. Their eyes were sparkling under dim yellow lights. They seemed to be calm, unsurprised with my appearance. Now, I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, a sparrow flew in the store and landed on my shoulder. It was a statue too. It gave me a comfortable, familiar feeling.

“So, Moon has finally decided to bring you here. He did have a hard time making up his mind.”-A tiger statue said out loud from the corner of the room. “Come on here, little girl! I’ll tell you the story of this store and of my own life.”- The tiger continued. I walked toward his place with the sparrow still on my shoulder. Through his slow, full of exhaustion movements, I could realize it was the statue of an old tiger. He could not even open his eyes properly, they just leaving a tiny space under the eyelids for him to see.

“It has been a long time already since Moon first brought me here.”

“The fat cat’s name is Moon?”-I had said that before I could realize.

“Fat cat! Hahaha… Yes, that’s him!”-The tiger laughed heavily. I was worried that he could chock if he didn’t stop laughing.

“Why did he bring me here? And …what are you guys?”-I asked curiously.

“He must have his own reason to bring you here but just like you, I don’t know. About us, as you have seen, we are statues, special statues. We all used to be animals but Moon turned us into wood. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t try to take life away from us. Instead, he has helped us not to suffer from pain by taking away our feeling sense. But he gave us more than what he had taken away. We can even think and speak.”-The tiger spoke slowly; his voice was showing gratefulness toward Moon-“Let me tell you about the time Moon met me. Back then, he was already as fat as he is now. I used to be the king of the jungle; life was extremely good for me. However, I ended up being a big cat in a circus. As I got older, people ignored me. They didn’t treat me the same way the used to. I was locked in a narrow, filthy cage all the time. I was lying in there day by day, waiting for death to come. But I guess no death wanted to take my life. I have been suffering like this for more than a year. Then Moon came, he looked straight in my opaque eyes. And when I woke up, I was already a statue, lying in this store. The best part is that all my pain is gone, forever...”

While the tiger was telling his story, the sparrow kept flying freely around me. It seemed to be utterly happy, especially when I played with it. I wondered what the miserable story behind this cheerful little sparrow was. Before I could ask, Moon was standing next to me and said “Time to go!” I felt asleep again. The antique store vanished one more time.

I could hear the annoying sound of the clock now. I crawled out of bed, thinking of the weird dream I had last night. It reminded me of the sparrow I caught last week, which was now locked in the cage. I finally understood the reason why Moon had brought me there. I ran to the living room, grabbed the cage, got out of the house and released the sparrow wishing him a happy life...

For my little Annie

I got home, Annie followed behind angrily. Before I could realize what was going on out there, she shut the door which created an incredibly loud and creepy noise. Annie came into the room with her eyes staring at me fearly. She shouted while throwing her handbag to the sofa.

“Mom, how could you show up in front of me and my friends like that? How dare you insult my boyfriend, Johny? Don’t you understand how much you embarassed me in front of them by letting them know you’re just a maid in Jasmine’s house?”

I was shocked. Speechless. Tears kept coming down to my cheeks. I didn’t mean to cry. I felt like my heart bled.

“Honey, but Johny isn’t the right guy for you. You deserve someone who’s much better than that. And I made you feel ashamed in front of your friends? Wake up, little Annie! They are not your friends. Those who are taking you to the club everynight, giving you cigarettes and fooling you by alcohols just don’t deserve to be your friends. And tell me, tell me what is wrong with my job?” – I asked while feeling like losing my everything, including my beloved daughter.

“Your job, mom, it is not even a job! You cannot even bring home sixty dollars a week. Just because you gave birth to me at the age of seventeen doesn’t make you better than those girls in that club. And what happened out there just told them everything about us, about the fact that I am a daughter of a maid, that I don’t even actually have money to buy my own pack of cigarettes. That’s it. I am leaving. I cannot live in this house for any longer. I am so sick of listening to your lecture everyday. Or may I say, lecture from a maid!”

She left. Seeing her out there with those bad kids she called friends made me forgot to tell her that I lost my job. Annie – my little girl has been everything to me since the day I dropped out of highschool because I was pregnant. Maybe she was right about the fact that I actually had no rights to tell her what to do. I slowly laid myself down to the sofa. Eyes closed. I’m frustrated.

Dear Annie,

I’m so sorry about what happened this afternoon. I didn’t mean to hurt your feeling or making you feel embarassed in front of your friends. Also, a maid like me might not be good enough to be idolized by her only child. But darling, I have reasons for not letting you hanging out with those friends. So please, read this letter till the end.

You know that mommy loves you more than anything in this world, don’t you Annie? Your grandparents left me too soon that I couldn’t even remember their face. Therefore, I have been given you all my love since the day you were born. That day was also the day which I realized that no angels could be more lovely than your were. And still, you are my one and only angel.

I lived with my aunt after my parents had passed. It was a strange place where I didn’t get to go out of the house very often. My aunt told me going outside her white fences without adult guardian was not safe. So everyday afterschool, I had to stay at home doing homework and helping her with some houseworks. My cousin, Andrew, was three years older than me. He was a very polite person, but as soon as he got to highschool, he became familiar with drugs. On my seventeen’s birthday, he asked me to come along to the club to make friends. He said I was old enough to get out of that house for actual fun. So, I came with him without noticing that night would change my life forever.

It was the first night out in my life. The place Andrew called fun was a very lively place. In the dark, people smoked, drank, and danced. Ladies and men were covered up by the music. Andrew called me a martini then went away with his friends. I sat in the corner of the club. I was more scared than trying to fit in with those strangers.

BANG

The music stopped. People screamed during escaping. I sneaked into them to find Andrew. But my God! Andrew was down on floor, bleeding all over. I screamed his name. I ran and ran. I heard footsteps approached. I was stopped by very strong arms. My mouth was covered up by a white handkerchief which didn't smell very nice. Then I knew nothing after that.

In the next morning, when I woke up, my dear aunt told me that Andrew was gone. I was found in the club with my hair and clothes had been messed up. She said that I would be taken to the hospital on the weekend instead of that moment because people were busy taking care of Andrew's funeral. Poor Andrew!

"You're pregnant, Ms Nancy Robertson." - That's all I could hear from the doctor. Auntie said she did not have enough money to take care for both of us after i gave birth to you. I dropped out of highschool. Some people told me to find people who would adopt my child. But I refused. And when I actually gave birth to you, I realized that I had made a right decision. Because you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen, Annie Robertson.

Darling, you are young and beautiful. You are a great girl. You are lucky because you are in highschool. And I cannot wait for the day you step in college. That would be the happiest day of my life when my dream comes true. I couldn't go to college, but I believe my daughter can make it. I am sorry if I have been forcing you all these years to be a perfect daughter of mine. However, you have a right to choose your own friends and own life. I will let you decide. But please think about it. There are dangers out there which I have watched and been through. By my experience, that's all I can counsel. But it's all for your benefit.


Love you,
Mommy

Then, I decided to put the letter in her room and went to bed. All I know was: in the next morning, Annie came to my bed. But I pretended to sleep.

"Sorry, mommy. You know I love you too." She whispered while kissing my forehead.