A fiber of connection from miles away...



Our places on this earth are divided by oceans setting us apart from one continent to another. Several countries speaking several languages to understand each other. People with several cultures and beliefs. Different personalities and opinions.

In this chaotic world, we live in called real life we search for a place to escape from that reality. To be accepted as who or what we are. We have found that in the music we sing. In the books, we read. In the movies we watch. In the places, we travel and visit. Everywhere in which we get inspiration to face reality head-on.

We write stories or poems to inspire others, reading the words we weave from our own world. For some of us, it is simply an escape from reality into a world in which we can use our imaginations to dream make-believe or to live our secret fantasies or just plain be creative.

Getting on the web gives us more ways to share and get connected to other people with the same kind of thinking from across the ocean. Some of the people we meet along the way give us reasons to smile again. It's where we become friends, get to know them well, and get so close that we even trust them enough to share our own greatest fears.

I was a living a kind of living death when I found solace here on Stories Space. A place to write, camouflaging my hatred and sadness from myself when I was reading all the poetry and fictional fantasies created by the writers. I found another escape from reality and indulged in reading.

My feelings from my own troubles in life had made me feel so empty that only through laughter and reading could I be free and somewhat whole again.

I made my own heaven in purgatory.

A friend told me to write down all of my pains and troubles in poems or stories. Another friend of mine told me to be fierce in my poetry writing. I found friends who helped me give my own life a reason to continue living again through writing.

Writing makes me calm every time my mind gets into a panic mode. The pains and the fears of the unknown are my muses for writing.

When I met someone who understood me and made me feel needed and loved my poetry changed its tune. It made me think of happy thoughts. I got inspired by the things I saw and the happy memories of my childhood that I could write about.

Painful memories and realities were always there and so I wrote about them from time to time.

When that someone left me I continued writing. The same inner muse I had gained I used to keep on writing.

Then, out of nowhere, I got to know you. I became happy again. This time I got even more inspired and more creative, experimenting with my writings.

I set aside my shyness and reservations to write creatively. I still can't overcome some of my shyness and reservation but I am blooming, inspired by you.

You became my muse.

The man in the moon. The stars in my darkest hours. When at night I can't sleep thinking of you calms me to sleep.

The sunshine after the heavy storm. Where all the dead trees come to life again. That keeps me warm when everything gets chilly.

My own little heaven in my real life purgatory.

Writing...

Rune's Prose & Poetries

LUCID DREAMS

my wandering crazy mind is just doodling in the sands...

it's just me ...this is a collection of my amateurish writings of poetry, short stories, and prose...

These are all short stories compilation a different story per chapter.

WARNING: Adult contents, please be advised that you're reading EROTICA


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
RuneMcGrey
Copyright©2014-present

All writings remains MEG Cabingan a.k.a. RuNe also known as runemcgrey's property.
Don't use it for any other purposes without her permission.

The language learning course which tested the ability of the students' minds to read, and comprehend a certain text, acknowledged the variety of literary pieces across the world, expressed one's sentiments, and viewpoints through creative writing, and gave up a speech to the public with a required self-confidence and charisma had conquered the class of Yeats.

"English Time!" a classmate exclaimed.

"Ugh. Why on earth..." Noah said, lying her head onto the armrest.

The teacher had arrived with her male student who assisted her to carry on her stationery materials and left afterwards. 

She expressed her warmest greeting to the class, "Good morning, everyone."

"Gooood Morningggg, Ma'am Rhea," the entire students responded in dullness, deliberately prolonging the words.

"Again, good morning, Yeats."

"Good Morning, Ma'am Rhea! We are happy to see you today!"

The teacher nodded, and commanded them, "Okay, you may now take your seats."

"So Yeats, in this period, we would be having an activity, and I'm sure you would definitely love to hate this one."

The students plastered a counterfeit grin on their faces as they listened to their teacher's introduction. It looked as if their incoming task would be an "easy yet a lazy job" for them.

"You will be composing an original poetry! Isn't beautiful? A form of art of regurgitating all your personal experiences, feelings, aspirations, and showing off your ideals and visions of the world around us by using a piece of paper and a pen. What lies ahead of our future? Who shall be the one to pass this on for the next generation. It's only you, the young ones. As our beloved national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal quoted, 'The youth is the hope of our nation'," Ma'am Rhea Azuela dramatically spoke, and her fists were firmly closed.

Everyone groaned with the exemption of Ma'am Rhea whose energy was trying hard to somehow radiate the entire classroom.

"Hmm... Okay, you only have two options: To create or not to create. My role as a teacher is simply taking down of your grades and morals in your report card. If you want a failing grade, why not? I'll give it to you. Other than that, what does youth always say? You only live once, eh? So, I won't stop you from not submitting your requirement," Ma'am Rhea shrugged.

"Anyways, for those who wished to conform to the task, listen up. Before you start writing, I would love to give a bit of a background about our today's lesson. I'm sure most of you familiar with them. We've known different lyrical poems, epic poems and etcetera. Now, I'll ask you. What is haiku? Anyone?"

"Just give me a gist of it."

Students were staring at each other's eyes, and no one dared to speak. Few were looking at the white board. Most were avoiding an eye contact from their instructor. Some of them were gaping at the outside of the room. Ma'am Rhea whined and continued.

"Guys, you have to talk. Remember, this is an English class. You have to hone your communication skills. How are you going supposed to learn if you don't utilize your mouths? Ha? Come on. No answers are wrong in language. It's more on thoughts and ideas that we should express. You should be engaging more on interaction. And pretty please, let's help each other out. Don't leave me hanging guys, Okay?"

"Now, any thoughts from this group?" she asked, looking at the first row. Ma'am Rhea was about to choose her lucky victim when one of her students raised her right hand, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss? What do you think? What is haiku?"

"May I go to the comfort room?" the wench replied.

Some of the senior high students were retaining their soon-to-be-bursted laughter. Ma'am Rhea sighed, and said, "Yes, you may."

The young lass stood up straight, and said, "But, If I am not mistaken, haiku refers to a five-seven-five syllable count in a one three-phrase stanza. It is also originated in Japan."

"Again, thank you for your permission, Ma'am."

The schoolgirl went to the school comfort room, leaving the entire class in amusement. Ma'am Rhea snapped her fingers to get back her little ones' focus.

"That's my girl! She got it right. Finally, someone saved you from danger, eh?" the teacher cunningly grinned, and the student were then relieved. 

"And since this is a surprise activity, you need not to compose a haiku. Still, it is included in your quarterly exams. Instead, I challenge you to write a poem. Freestyle. Whether you want to have your piece that consists of a rhyme, or a regular meter. It's up to you. Make sure it has three stanzas. Do you understand me, Yeats?"

Dassah lifted up her hand up, and called, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss Dassah?"

"What would the topic be about?" the student asked.

"Hmm... Good question," Ma'am Rhea nodded, and began considering a great theme for her class's written poetry. Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped up. She smiled and responded to her student.

"It should be based on your personal experience. For example, your bonding with your family and friends. Maybe you want to write about your life as a student, and whatsoever. The sky's the limit."

"So, any questions?"

The class replied, "None."

"Okay. You may now start. And please let me check your composition before the bell rings whether it is done or not. I'll give a plus point and a secret award for those who could create a finished piece," Ma'am Rhea announced, and sat down on her chair to relax her voluptuous legs.

"Ma'am, what is the reward?" one man asked.

"It won't be confidential anymore, if I'll tell you, mister," she said.

The students proceeded writing on their mandatory art work. Creative juices were flooding up inside of their right brains. Tearing papers were echoing everywhere in the section. Loud mental groans from every school teens dominated in the class. Frustration mixed with determination to make a possible masterpiece were obviously transparent on their hopeless faces. Dassah who eventually ended her write-up stood up from her armchair, and submitted it to her English teacher. 

Ma'am Rhea was impressed, and took her ample time to read her three-stanza poem. As she perused Dassah's work, she smiled in delight.

"Miss Quinn."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I have a dumb question," the instructor said. She glanced at her unknowing student in mischief, and continued her talk.

" Are you in love?"

"NO WAY, MA'AM," Dassah yelled at her teacher. Her classmates instantly shifted their gaze at the two. She became flustered, and softly spoke, "Umm... Sorry, ma'am. I was just shocked. But, no, I am not, ma'am."

"And what makes you think that I'm uh..."

Ma'am Rhea replied, still smiling, "In love?"

Dassah slowly nodded in embarrassment,"Uh-huh."

"It's just my assumption. It seems the message of your poem conveys about a clichè romance like this love at first sight kind of scene. Ah. Reminds me of my first young love,"  Ma'am Rhea Azuela said, feeling the nostalgia of her past teen era.

"And, what's even more interesting is that I instructed you to have a poem that talks about your life encounters." Dassah's teacher continued.

"Then, I thought I might be wrong, so which is why I asked you."

Dassah again nodded as an abiding servant, and the English teacher spoke again herself, "So, mind if I ask you the story behind this piece of yours?"

"Um... Sure, Ma'am. But, it already says it all," Dassah said.

"It's basically this. I met a guy at a convenience store, and I did not forsee anything that we would see each other for the second time around. And for me, I was happy it happened for the both of us."

Ma'am Rhea could no longer hide her squeals, and let it out without any reservation.

"Oh, ignore my giggles. The story was too cute. But hey, Miss Quinn. This is your prize," she commented, and gestured her to move closer. Dassah came near to her instructor in obedience.

"You'll present it to the other class."

"Ma'am?!" Dassah exclaimed in terror.

"Shh... Don't tell anyone," she warned the young lady.

"But, but..."

Ma'am Rhea smiled, and said, "You may go back to your seat, Miss Quinn."

Dassah heaved a sigh of defeat, and move herself back to her armchair.  Floating her countless regrets of submitting her poem, the young lady had enough of the trap, and let the situation sail by itself.

Dassah Quinn had left no choice but to stay with a perfect stranger. Yearning for someone who would help them get out of trouble and leave the olden storage room is her gleam of hope. 

In the course of incarceration, Dassah unexpectedly entailed herself in a scheme of discerning the nondescript man, One One.

　After eating, Lin Xu entered the study room again. Lin Jian was very pleased with this. Haha smiled and said: "It is the merit of the singer. The rise of the singer has not only brought the Holy Power to me, but also brought the Holy Power to me. Even the gangs have used a lot of work. But who is this singer? It should not be in Kyoto, it may be in a local college, tomorrow, let local people look up and see if there are such good seedlings. !"

　　Lin Xu re-entered into the St. Wen. After so many world recommendations from the Great God, Lin Xu's "Water Melody" actually broke through the million mark in a meal, reaching the point of 13,000 subscriptions. After all, most of you were still skeptical about Lin Xu's article. What good things can a child write? Therefore, although many people saw Lin Xu's update, they did not go to see his article. Until such a big god recommended, he finally made his subscription show a blowout.

　　Lin Xu's greatest sacred power has also risen directly to more than 5,000. Because of the one-on-one breakthrough rewards, Shengli will continue to grow with the increase of sales. For every hundred dollars sold, you can grow a little holy. Force, this sale is not a reward.

　　Lin Xu didn't pay much attention to other things. There are so many subscriptions. If your own updates can't keep up, it's a waste of so many subscriptions. You must take advantage of this good opportunity and update some things. The novel can't be updated. Then update the poetry.

　　However, Lin Xu's most important thing is to buy a more convenient input tool, so he opens the mall. The mall is divided into several categories: "Sacred Learning Class", "Saint Wenling Class", and "Shengli Attack Skills Class". , "Wenbao Class", "St. Lidan", "Wenbao Refining Law", "St. Lidan Refining Law", "Saint Lidan Medicinal Materials", "Wenbao Materials", "Others" class"!

　　After Lin Xu read the introduction, he clicked on the "Wenbao" class. It turned out that these writers were all written by the writers and writers themselves. Lin Xu knew that these things can be homemade. It is necessary for me to learn such a production skill, to make the most convenient pen, and even to find a way to make the keyboard. At that time, I can fly.

　　However, it is still necessary to first look at whether you can buy a hard pen, so he puts a pen in the Wenbao class, and a whole bunch of strange pens appear in front of him.

　　The level of Wenbao is divided into: spirit, holy, and god.

　　Lin Xu can only use Lingbao as a writer, and junior writers can only use the primary Lingbao. Because the primary Lingbao enters the holy text, a word only costs about 10 points. Intermediate Lingbao needs to spend about 20 points.

　　The junior writer has just been promoted. Generally, there are only three thousand points of holy power. If you write with the intermediate Lingbao, you will reach two hundred words. I am afraid that there will be four thousand holy forces. If the writer is a junior writer, he will not be able to breathe. After writing the article, if the Holy Spirit is restored, it is better to use the primary Lingbao to write. Although it is slower than the intermediate Lingbao, it is faster than restoring the Holy Spirit.

　　Moreover, more importantly, the price of the primary Lingbao starts from one thousand holy coins, while the price of the intermediate Lingbao starts from five thousand holy coins. The price difference is really too big, and the non-local tyrants will not be at the primary writer. Buy intermediate-level Lingbao at the stage.

　　Although Lin Xu had more than 10,000 holy coins after the division, it was better to use the primary Lingbao, so he chose the primary Lingbao.

　　A slippery spirit pen is a primary spiritual treasure, all kinds of, including the author's whimsy, and each has its own advantages and disadvantages, and from the price, costly, writing speed can be judged some spiritual pen The price/performance ratio comes.

　　However, if Lin Xu just buys an ordinary pen, it is better to continue to use the existing one. He wants to try his luck and see if he can have a hard pen. If not, he should consider whether he is taking the time to learn. The skills created by Wenbao, and then make a pen out.

　　Fortunately, Lin Xu found that there is a pen that resembles a hard pen. This is a kind of pen that is similar to the principle of a water core pen. Before writing, you need to pour ink into the pen holder behind the pen, and then you can start writing. However, a tube of ink, it is estimated to write about a thousand words, but also to refill the ink.

　　Lin Xu looked at the above introduction. It turned out that an Wenbao refiner was in the early stage, and suddenly had a whimsy. He felt that it was too much trouble to use ink on his brush. So he invented this pen, but everyone's sacred text. The teacher started with the first word practice, wrote a brush for a few years, and who would easily change his pen? Therefore, his pen hangs here for decades, and there are many people watching it, but no one has placed an order until Lin Xu orders to buy it.

　　And when Lin Xu bought this pen, among a group of Wenbao makers, a person named Qixiang sent a message: "Someone bought my pen!"

　　"Just kidding, although your pen is creative, but it is too hard to write, it is not suitable for writing! UU reading www.uukanshu.com"

　　"Yeah, who is likely to buy your pen, you are wrong!"

　　"If you really buy it, it must be a fool!"

　　So the whimsy issued a sales record and said: "You look at it, it is he bought my pen!"

　　Everyone looked at it and was amazed because the record they saw was: "Sauer bought your primary pen and got 1099 holy coins!"

　　"I rely on, Sao, this is not the writer who just broke the record of the junior writer's assessment today?"

　　"More than that, an article he wrote today was recommended by Jiujian Dashen!"

　　"Sure enough, the wonderful people have wonderful ideas. He bought all your wonderful pens!"

　　Imagine: "Haha... I said it earlier. I only know the benefits of this pen when I can only understand the benefits of it. I really didn't expect it. It was a genius who bought it! Haha... Since Saskatchewan supports it I, in the future, I am his iron powder. I don't want this 1099 holy coin. I will reward him to Sao, and I will be his iron powder!"

　　Everyone: "..."

　　Lin Xu didn't know that he could bring out so many things when he bought a pen. At the moment, he discovered that he actually had a virtual space. The pen he bought was lying in the virtual space. Lin Xu thought, this one The pen went to his own hand.

　　"I don't know if I can put it in again?" So he thought, so the pen in his hand went into the space again. "Sure enough, try something else!"

　　So Lin Xu tried a variety of things, and found that ordinary things can't be put into space, only things related to the holy text can be put into the space. This is very convenient, at least not to carry the pen and paper on the body.

Bad grammar is to be expected
read with caution
Been translated to english 
read before webnovel get me
10 Chapter per day
Number of chapter in chinese:130
Status:Cancel/Taking a break
you can read it on my website as well 
Discord link https://discord.gg/sG7DVsM

I am not that pleasant to the eye. I have these forever tiny pimples that take shelter on my face. And I think I have gotten big over the years of stress-eating. 

This guy in front of me does not think so though. 

/"I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner later."/ 

Or maybe he is just making fun of me and this is some kind of prank he is trying to pull off with his jock of a friends. I have seen this guy and he is the new member of the basketball team of Moordale High. I have not known him that much, but I know the basketball boys were assholes. 

This guy standing in front of me is a sophomore and it sucks that he is taller than me. He has brown curly hair, black eyes, and frickeled cheeks. And I think he is pleasant to the eyes, too pleasant. 

/"I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner later."/ 

Too straightforward to even be believable. I look boringly back at his eyes, which showed nervousness. He glances at something behind my back. The jockholes look like they are snickering. 

I grab the books from my lockers and look back at him.

"Trust me, you don't wanna be like them." I walk away from him and towards my first period. 

You see, the basketball players at my school hate me. They hate me for accidentally finding out their secret. I never meant to intrude but they were just not that careful. That's why they left me alone, sadly my proof was shattered by them, my phone, and now I had nothing against them. Just kidding, I backed it up on my laptop. I am not that fucking stupid. One more dirty move, and their parents will know that their precious innocent sons are actually not that innocent anymore. 

Wednesday is the best school day. Creative Writing is first period. And I love the subject. And I get to be with Atlas in the same room. 

I quickly go to my seat and write my thoughts and feelings of the day. Mr. Harrington has this idea of writing down what we are feeling and I don't know for what purpose. 

/I think I will be fine./

He has not yet arrived. I roll the paper and put it in the box of his table. 

I turn to my seat to find Atlas already sitting and writing down on his paper. He is 7 seats away from me. He is in front while I was at the back.

In no time, the students filled the room and Mr. Harrington started his lecture of the day. I listened to him properly but my mind keeps bringing me back to what happened this morning.

/"Your mom is coming here tomorrow, please clean your room."/ I hear my dad's voice. It was not my mom, coming to the house, that was bothering me. It was my dad. Sure, he changed. But everything was awkward at the house, he is always early for work and arrives so late. He does not look at me when he says something. We don't eat together. It's like we are two strangers living in the same house. Like housemates that are supposed to get along. We don't get along. He barely even talks to me. It has always been like that. I was always the one initiating the conversation when we eat together, which barely happens. I tell him about school and he would reply with words that are blank and I ask him about work and he'll say it's okay and the conversation ends.

/I think I will be fine/ I snap out of my thoughts and look back at Mr. Harrington who has started reading the rolled papers. 

"Whoever you are, remember that it gets better. Your day might have started badly, does not mean it ends badly, do something fun, something you want to do. It's a bad day, not a bad life." Mr. Harrington was good at motivation and making students feel better. I wonder why isn't the guidance councilor when he was better than Mrs. Yuan. 

"I beat off three tim..." the class is in hysterics, including me. "Now, what did I say about this stuff?..." He rambles on and on about the use of language and then continued to read the other papers, which of course, had plenty more unclean contents. 

I look back at Atlas, whose back I can only see. He is laughing along with the class, his broad shoulders bobbing in the process. 

He is good at poetry as well. He is good at everything he does. He is this perfect student, this perfect jock, this perfect son, this perfect boyfriend, but he will never be a perfect friend. 

Suddenly, I am so angry. Angry at him. Angry for what he has done. Angry that he gave up on our friendship. Angry that he blamed me for his parents separation when his parents actually had reunited and stayed a perfect family in town. Angry that he did not even reach out and try to recompense. Angry that he chose to be friends with assholes. Angry that he is unattainable. 

And I am angry at myself, for not being able to let go. For messing things up. For not being able to save my parents' marriage. Angry at my mother for leaving. Angry at my mother who has built a new family and they are probably talking and not awkward with each other. Angry at my father for cheating. Angry that he isn't proud of his faggot of a son that he could not even talk to let alone look at. I am angry that I chose him. 

I am angry at myself for being the way I am. I am angry that as I sit here, my eyes blinking back tears, looking at Atlas' back, I realize that I am jealous of him. That I have always been. And I hate it. 

"Mr. Jones, are you okay?" I look back at my 6'4 teacher who is now standing in front of me. I know all eyes are on me. They are probably looking at me weirdly, including Atlas. But I don't look at any.

I clear my throat.
"Um, yeah... I am okay sir."

I will always say I am okay.



/Even when it is obvious that I am not./

Summer is in love with Atlas. Atlas likes Summer, but no, not in that way.


boyxboy

Gun-Ho was having a beer with Jae-Sik at the security office in his company. It was all dark outside.
"You used to be very active in the literature club when we were in high school, and if I remember correctly, you also participated in making our school newspapers."
"Yeah, I did. After graduating from high school, I went to college in Seoul and majored in creative writing. It was not one of the top universities, but I had a good life at that time because I could do what I enjoy doing."
"That's right. I think I heard that you studied creative writing."
"I even won the annual spring literature contest after graduating from college, which was held by a newspaper company in a province. At that time I felt like I could rule the world. I wanted to get a job in a newspaper company, but I found a job at a publishing company instead."
"So you got a job where you can use what you learned in college and that was also what you liked to do with your life."
"As you know, a publisher is different from a factory like here. It was a small publisher with only three or four employees and it wasn't doing very well."
"Hmm."
"However, that publisher was publishing a few bestseller books at that time, so they could pay me even though it was not much. I met my ex-wife there too."
Jae-Sik's voice started shaking when he talked about his wife.
"Have some more beer."

"Sure."
Jae-Sik sipped his can of beer before he continued to talk.
"Did your wife work at the same publisher?"
"My wife was a poet. In order to make our livings, we both worked at the publisher as a freelancer doing proofreading and editing."
"Hmm."
"So we hit it off when we met. I was a chief editor at the publisher at that time. Unfortunately, the company could no longer find a good book that would generate enough revenue. Any subsequent books we published were sold less than 500 books at a maximum."
"Does it cost a substantial amount of money to publish a book?"
"Our company usually published foreign books. So it cost more than 10 million won to do the translation, editing, design and printing work."
"Wow, it does cost a lot."
"That company eventually had to close its business. I couldn't find a job in the field afterward because the publishing industry wasn't doing well at that time. So I made a living by doing editing. However, I don't know what happened to me; I guess I had to stay in the field doing editing even though I wasn't making much. But, instead, I opened a deep-fried chicken restaurant with a loan."
"Hmm."
"I put about 100 million won in that restaurant business including its premium. However, the restaurant strangely suffered from the beginning. Moreover, my wife became testy because of the customers who were rude and loud, and sometimes they harassed my wife, those low-lives."

"Hmm."
"She would have been able to take some stress that arose from the business if we were making good money. However, the business was suffering, and we were pressured by the creditors to repay the loan, on top of those abusive customers. My wife couldn't take it anymore. You know people who write like a poem, they are more sensitive than average people."
"Did your wife invest her money in the restaurant too?"
"She did. She took out the money from her credit cards here and there and invested 20 million won in the business. I also used my credit cards in addition to loan from a bank and put about 40 million won in the business."
"So, you started the business with your own cash of 30 million won."
"I had a severance pay of 5 million won that I received from the publishing company's president. He literally cried when he gave it to me. And I borrowed 10 million won from my mother. I used those 15 million won in addition to my own cash—another 15 million won."
"The debt was too high compared to your own investment fund."
"The debt grew like a snowball and we were behind our rent. It was that time when my wife eventually suffered a miscarriage of a baby; she asked me to divorce her."
"Whew. I had similar life experiences. You had a harsh time."
"I haven't heard from my wife for a while. She must still be suffering financially because of her credit card debt. She is probably having a hard life doing editing work."
"Hmm."
"When I eventually closed the deep-fried chicken restaurant, I was left with a debt of over 50 million won. I suffered for quite a while by the creditors before I became a person with a bad credit score."
"Why didn't you apply for rehabilitation?"
"I did. With rehabilitation program, I was supposed to pay off debts according to a payment plan provided by the court. I was paying a certain amount of money to the court every month for several months until the accident happened."
"An accident?"
"I was doing the editing work, but when I couldn't get enough work to make a living, I got a job in a delivery company. I think I worked there for about half a year until the accident. I was delivering a package and I had to make a quick delivery, so I made a U-turn where I was not supposed to do and then I hit a car that was coming from the opposite direction. I crossed the yellow line to make a U-turn. I guess something happened to me that day to cloud my judgment."
"Hmm."
"I am not good at physical work since I have always done office work like writing and editing. Moreover, I had a bad credit score. So it was really hard to find a job. I saw Jong-Suk working with machines and doing welding. He looks great. I know I can't do that kind of work."
"So, you have 50 million won debt in total?"
"I have been paying for the debt until now. I think I have 30 million won left by now. Oh, I talked with the general affairs manager the other day about it. He said I would get paid 1.6 million won per month, and I can take the amount of basic living expenses out of it before it is seized. I think I can save some money then."
"Saving money?"
"Yeah. My rent is paid by the company, and I can have my meals at the company. So, I think I can pay off the debt after ten years working here."

"Right. The biggest expense that the people who don't make enough money is the cost of the rent. The people who don't have money have to pay for rent, and the people who have money receive that rent from them. That's the current economic system we are living in. Consequently, the gap between the rich and poor is getting bigger. Ten years are too long for you."
"Well, it is still hope. It's a good thing that the debt is shrinking instead of growing. There is one thing that bothers me a lot though. I collected some funds from our friends from high school to make an alumni directory book. I couldn't make it happen even though I really was going to make it."
"People don't make those types of directory book nowadays, do they? Many people don't want to expose their real address."
"I know. So I was going to enter their e-mail address instead of physical addresses with phone numbers. I started collecting the necessary information and writing some stuff already like the history and path that our school took so far and news from our friends, etc. I still have the writings with me. It will cost 2-3 million won to complete it but I used that money to pay my rent because I was about to be evicted. I became an animal to our friends."
Jae-Sik eventually burst into tears.

This is the story of a poor young man whose poverty even shreds apart their family willing to climb his way through society and into the top. A very realistic novel that moves away from fantasy and sci-fi and focuses solely on the issues of society and life.

They were in Crown Prince Jing's rear garden. 
Mindful of the long history between their two families, the Crown Prince invited Fan Xian to make himself at home, then went on to greet some other guests - after all, a number of luminaries had come today. 
But Fan Xian was unaware of the undercurrents beneath the calm surface. He strolled around, and among the seemingly disordered seats he found a remote spot in keeping with his own temperament and sat down. He saw wine on a small table, grabbed a cup and emptied it into his mouth, pursing his lips. 
There were no commoners in sight. All conversation seemed to involve the literary classics in some way. He sighed and looked up at the sky. He was secretly thankful that the sun was not too fierce, otherwise he would not have caught sight of some of the beautiful women at this annoying poetry contest, who wanted to hear some melancholy verses and soak up the sun's rays. 
The scholars seemed to be seated however they pleased, but were encircling a small table on the grass, so not many people were looking toward the periphery. A few young nobles around the edges looked at his face; they had also been personally welcomed by the Crown Prince, so they greeted him with curiosity. He was prepared for them to ask about his background. 
None guessed which house this handsome young man – smiling wholeheartedly, laughing, and confidently chatting away – was from. They chatted for a while, and he couldn't help but feel they were rather dull, so he withdrew from their idle chitchat and waited quietly for the contest to begin. 
This day was not like the past few days; the sunshine was gentle, the willow trees swayed lightly, and the occasional spring wind lifted up their collars. The spring evening winds were neither cold nor fierce, and touched them gently like invisible hands. It was a comfortable evening, and the sunlight was the kind that made one want to sleep. Fan Xian did not wish to seem impolite, so he continued to smile, forcing his eyes open, listening to the poetry and watching as cups of wine were served to guests. But the gentle spring breeze and the warm sunshine made it increasingly difficult for him to feign interest in the poetry, and he found himself nodding off. 
He caught a few lines: "On the road to Leizhou in my dream, I was met with the following scene. I was no hermit begging for money, I laughed at myself..."; "the wine was strong, the old man was drunk, his cup embossed with patterns..."; "the people of Dongyi drift about, but one capable man stayed behind..."
Fan Xian pinched at himself to keep himself awake. Even though he didn't much like reciting poetry, at an event like this, he couldn't act like the scruffy young man he was when he was 16 in his past life. So he smiled, staring in a somewhat stupefied way at the scene before him. 
As he stared, he caught sight of someone who seemed almost familiar. A group of people were sitting on the comfiest spots by the side of the lake – it was Guo Baokun and He Zongwei, whom he had run into a few days before. Fan Xian frowned. Crown Prince Jing no doubt knew of the tussle that had occurred between the Fan and Guo families; why did he see fit to invite them both here?
It seemed like they noticed Fan Xian staring at them. Guo Baokun turned his gaze away from the beautiful women across the lake. When he saw Fan Xian, his expression changed, and he was unable to maintain his scholarly elegance. Unthinkingly, he threw the ostentatious folding fan he was holding onto a table. 
Nearby, a scholar from the College of Supreme Learning was giving a lecture on the classics, so not many people noticed Guo Baokun's reaction. 
Guo Baokun's companions followed his gaze, and noticed Fan Xian hiding away in a corner. They all became angry. There were so many distinguished scholars here, all without bodyguards; if that brat from the Fan family decided to start another fight, who would stop him?
But Fan Xian smiled as he looked at them and nodded as if he were greeting friends. 
The table murmured among themselves, and gloomy smiles broke out among them. Guo Baokun's permanently-downturned face seemed almost pleased. Only He Zongwei seemed to take exception. 
——————————————————————————
They didn't know what the girls were doing under that white silk, but a woman had been continuously going back and forth with copies of poems that the women had written, and reading them aloud for the scholars to judge. 
The crown prince laughed. "Although women are no match for men," he said aloud, "literature is not the same as the brute force of combat. Do not worry, gentlemen, there is no chance you will be outdone by those feeble women."
The crowd agreed, and laughed and chattered among themselves. Someone came up with an idea: write a poem on a topic, and the best three poems would be taken to the opposite side of the lake. 
A scholar on Guo Baokun's table turned his gaze and cupped his hands in salute. "I am but an untalented poet, but may I suggest that the topic be the waters of this lake?"
"Very good. Today's blue-green ripples float like gold..." someone began to write. 
"That'll do well. As I look out on the beautiful lake and mountain landscape..." someone else set out their poem. 
Guo Baokun stared in Fan Xian's direction. "I didn't realize young master Fan would be here today," he said loudly. "Why don't we let him start?"
Fan Xian had come on his father's orders. He was to make an appearance in front of the people of the capital and nothing more. When he heard that they wanted him to write poetry, he smiled. "I'm really not that great," he said, shaking his head. "Please feel free to ask someone else."
Seeing him back down, Guo Baokun felt all the more that Fan Xian was all looks and no brains. He laughed coldly. "The other day in Yi Shijiu you were mouthing off, saying how you didn't care for scholars, but now you're so stingy with your advice. You really do think a lot of yourself."
Hearing this, the people present finally realized that the two young men had a history of enmity with each other; the poetry was only an excuse to start a fight. Most of the people in the mansion were guests of Crown Prince Jing. Although they didn't know who Fan Xian was, they saw that he seemed to be friendly with the crown prince, so a few began to wonder whether he was a son of the Fan clan, but none of them guessed that he was the son of Count Sinan. 
Watching the people around him discuss things, Guo Baokun took a sip of tea and laughed sinisterly. "Brother Fan here only just arrived in the capital a few days ago. I think we should all hear what he has to say."
The people at the contest weren't idiots; they immediately realized Fan Xian's identity. When they looked at him, they felt a twinge of pity, a slight trace of disdain, and a number of other complicated feelings. 
Fan Xian's expression did not change from the faint smile he had worn before, but he continued to refuse to compose a poem. When Crown Prince Jing saw his smile, he felt all the more unable to gauge the depths of this young man. A strange look flashed across his eyes, and he spoke to broker a compromise. "Poetry can only be written willingly, and brother Fan clearly does not wish to write today. Gentlemen, you will have to write yourselves."
Fan Xian leaned lazily on the small slanted table, looking at the people milling about, listening to their average-at-best prose. It was all rather boring. To an observer's eye, he looked rather impudent. Someone could not help but sneer. "The young lady of the Fan family is well known in the capital for her poetry. It is rather surprising that young master Fan is so silent."
Guo Baokun spoke quietly. "Well, he wasn't raised in the manor," he laughed, "of course he's different from the rest of them." Though he had spoken quietly, he made sure to let everyone around him know. Although the Kingdom of Qing had blossomed culturally, the status of illegitimate children had remained as low as ever. Fan Xian's status was a sensitive subject. When people heard his carefully-chosen words, a strange atmosphere pervaded the grounds. 


A family inclined to kindness and charity would grace the descendants.
Thanks to one small act of kindness,
by providence she comes across a grateful friend;
Fortunate that her mother,
has done an unperceived good deed….

Men should rescue the distressed and aid the poor…
Who would have guessed that kindness in this world ultimately would be the road that one must choose, that proverbial fork in the road?

Clouds of rain float on eastern winds as new vines start to blossom.
Though drums of war roar too loudly and their brilliance has been lost,
a green grass carpet greets the sun by the break of morning.
Let us wait for the yellow leaves, a few gourds are harvested.

"For me love is a fight," Nana said after a long pause.
Yuri was astonished, "Fighting? What do you mean?"
"The fight for happiness, but after a deep broken heart I realized that life is not only a matter of love, but more than that it is a competition to become a human that can be recognized so that it cannot be oppressed by anyone," Nana explained.
"You mean?" Yuri asked.
"Life can not be guessed as well as your heart's content, what you think is good is not necessarily good for you and vice versa, I hope you understand about this" Nana continued.
Yuri looked down and tried to digest what was said by Nana, for a moment Yuri tried to smile.
"You're right, then I'll try my best and let go of what must be released up to my limits," Yuri said, trying to encourage herself.
"I hope you can find the best way to find your happiness." Nana also tried to cheer up Yuri even though she didn't know exactly what was happening but she didn't want to force Yuri to say it if it wasn't Yuri herself who opened it.
"Alright, I'll go first because it's two o'clock so it's time to look for news hehe", After saying that Nana immediately came out of Yuri's room.
Yuri nodded and smiled at Nana who had disappeared from behind the door.
Nana actually felt sorry for Yuri, but what else could she not be a god who could control the hearts and lives of others.
As Nana walked out of the office, she suddenly got a call from an unknown number, with little hesitation Nana picked it up.
"Hello, is this really Ms. Nana Khalila, with the name 2N Fation contest?"
"2N Fation?"
"Yes, it says here on your design on behalf of 2N Fation"
Nana became confused, suddenly she remembered that she used to use that name in every design she drew, then how could anyone know? hobby of writing.
"Oh yeah it's me, what's up?" Nana replied with a little hesitation.
"Congratulations, your design successfully passed the Korea Creative Festival Week"
"What? Are you not mistaken?"
"Certainly not wrong, because here clearly written the name, telephone number, email address and boutique where you work"
"May I know which boutique?"
"Fation Minor, South Jakarta"
"Fation Minor? Mmm, I understand" Nana was stunned when she heard the name of the boutique after that she smiled when she imagined who the CEO was from the boutique.
"Alright, I have sent your e-mail regarding the schedule, theme and list of your competitors' names, please check!"
"Of course I will check it out soon"
After the chat, Nana immediately checked her email and once again she was astonished when she saw the name on the main list.
"Kyung Mi from Marct Daily Foundation one? Is she the same person?" Nana began to hesitate to take part in the contest, if indeed her rival was Mimi, the girl who loved Lion.
When she was finished with her thoughts, Nana stared lazily at the parking area, then she looked up at the cloudless clear sky and the scorching sun.
At that moment Nana was shocked by the sound of the brakes that hurt the ears, a white sports car stopped and almost touched Nana's feet.
"Gosh ... is the driver drunk?" said Nana irritably.
Sweet figure using high heels in a tight pink dress that shows her sexy cleavage out of the car.
She stepped and stood right in front of Nana with a sweet smile.
"Did I surprise you?" Mimi asked with a guilty expression.
Nana was stunned, her heart pounding as her feet backward, "Mimi?"
"Oh Nana? You're Nana right?" asked Mimi with her gentle smile.
Nana nodded, swear by anything she didn't expect to see the beautiful Mimi, is this a coincidence? Mimi appeared when she thought about it? Will the real competition begin?
Nana nodded while fixing the way it stood, "Yes, you are Mimi right?"
"Do you still remember me? Glad we could meet again, oh what are you doing here?" asked Mimi.
For some reason Nana felt uncomfortable seeing Mimi's good attitude, but she felt compelled to apologize for the cancellation of Mimi's engagement with Lion.
"I work here, Mmm ... can we talk?" Nana asked with a little hesitation.
Mimi nodded "Sure, I like you so I thought it would be nice if we could talk"
"Ohhh yeah, when are you not busy?" Nana asked.
"Now you can, I happened to come here to invite my friend to drink, but because there is you, I will just invite you," said Mimi cheerfully as if there was no anger in her.
"Today I don't have too much work, maybe we can talk a few minutes?" Nana said.
"Then get in my car, I'll take you to one of my favorite places," said Mimi pulling Nana's arm.
With heavy steps Nana followed Mimi to get into her car.
Not long after Mimi's luxury Porsche car stopped at one of the elite cafes in Seol.
"Sit down!" Mimi kindly invited Nana to sit in the chair next to her.
Nana sat obediently while smiling towards Mimi.
"What do you want to order?" asked Mimi.
"Just plain water," Nana replied.
Mimi immediately nodded without asking much more. She immediately ordered two drinks, after talking with the cafe waiter, Mimi looked back at Nana.
"This cafe is good right?" Said Mimi, staring at Nana.
Hearing Mimi's question, Nana immediately rolled her eyes in all directions in the cafe, after which she nodded "Yes, Very Good"
"Of course it's good because I've never been wrong in choosing" said Mimi confidently.
Nana only nodded in response to Mimi's words, but she could grasp the meaning behind Mimi's words.
"Mmmm before, I want to apologize for the failure of your engagement with Lion," Nana said with a guilty expression.
Hearing Nana's words, Mimi's expression immediately changed, she looked at Nana meaningfully while crossing her legs showing her smooth white thighs.
"Are you angry?" Nana continued when she saw Mimi not responding to her words.
Mimi shook her head and said, "No".


How would it be, if two people who were different like heaven and earth, were met by the fierce hatred and sweet temptations of love?

Starting with the arrival of Nana Khalila to South Korea to escape the pain due to the mistake of her future husband.

In South Korea Nana was unintentionally involved with one of the number one entrepreneurs named Kim Lion, who got the title of the ideal husband of Seoul women because of his good looks and success.

Kim Lion is a perfectionist man who is anti-touched by just any woman, besides that he hates marriage and isn't even interested in dating. His life was perfect until Nana appeared to overturn the earth.

In addition, Nana is also involved with sweet tall men who have charming dimples. He is friendly and very polite to women. Even so, he only keeps love for one woman. He was named Park Jeha, the most successful Online Game entrepreneur in South Korea. However, behind the warm attitude he was very mysterious.

Discover the story of Nana, Lion, Jeha and all the characters involved in the novel "When Love Finds its Master" to find the answer!

»Happy Reading.


»Instagram» @azzahra_tina
»Facebook» @Tina Agustiana

"Alright class, today we have a few important matters to discuss." 

The class went silent, they were probably scared that there was a pop quiz. 

"Its time to choose your Hero names."

Everyone rose up out of their seats, excited. You however were not. You had ideas of a Hero name but all of them would just reveal your quirk. Maybe you should just tell them...

You were all given white boards and markers, most already had their choices written down. Insanely nervous, you listened to everyones idea, some were actually creative, others...

Bakugo stood up, he looked proud as he walked up to the front of the class room. He revealed his name, everyone just murmured. You however died, "HAHAHAHAHA! THAT THE DUMBEST NAME IVE EVER HEARD!" 

Bakugo flushed before his face went into an angry scowl, "What did you just say!?" 

You had tears flowing out of your eyes, barely even breathing, "Oh, don't take it to heart, it was somewhat...Creative." You said. 

"I will admit, its an interesting name but it just wont do, why do you try again?" Midnight said to Bakugo. 

"Whatever." 

"Now [y/n] since you seem so eager to tell everyone your hero name, why dont you come up here and enlighten everyone else." 

"Uhhhh...shit." 

Bakugo smirked and you reluctantly walked up to the front, white board in hand. Groaning you showed them your idea of a decent hero name. The Gamer (Im pretty sure this is a webtoon but I dont care. lul)

"Gamer? Isn't your quirk Wind?" 

"I thought it was super strength?"

You were insanely nervous, "You are both right...I do still have one quirk but the thing is, it has multiple abilities."

"Multiple abilities?!"

"So weird"

"Interesting" 

You shuffled your feet, "it has the basics of a game too, I have stats, quests, and I even get viruses."

"Viruses?" The class said together. 

"Uhhh Y-yes...when I- almost killed all of you, All for one released a virus into my body," its like he knew my quirk. "I didnt mean too. Im sorry!" You bowed low. 

Calm Mind skill Activated

At least you wouldn't be crying in front of them.

"Why are you bowing Dumbass, its not like you did anything wrong." Bakugo said calmly. 

"I didn't? But you sai-" 

"And I said sorry! I shouldnt have assumed that you tried to kill us of your own free will"

"Oh."

"Listen [y/n] it wasn't your fault, so dont worry about it!" Kirishima said.

You slightly smiled, "thanks..." you left the podium, you didnt want to be up there anymore. Its almost weird, why would he target me....

Everyone then continued on with the day, while you were lost in your thoughts. 

Forced Quest 
Win challenge
Completion of quest 
      >100000exp
      >Cure All
Incompletion of Quest 
      >Death

Win challenge? Thats vague I have no idea whats that supposed to mea-

"Now that we have you Hero names picked out its time to get ready for the Ua Festival." 

Thats unfortunate...guess Im dying young.

For the next few weeks you all prepared for the festival.


                —————————————

"ALL RIGHT EVERYONES ARE YOU READYYYY?!!" 

*Silence~* 

"Ill take that as a yes! First things first, welcome to the UA FESTIVAAAL! Are first challenge for today is a Parkour race!"

RACE!? ANOTHER ONE?!!! I better say my vows now, you thought as your class stood in their assigned group. 

"Unfortunately [y/n] [l/n] has been removed from the competition due to classified reasons."

"WHAAAAT?! NO I CAN-"

You could tell the blood draining from your face. I have to participate in this.

"Sorry [y/n]" Midnight said as she touched your shoulder. leading you towards the exit. 

"I have to participate." 

"Principle Nezu says you can't, you are way more powerful than you think, if you get another Virus we might not be able to stop you." 

"I have too! If I dont ill di-" 

"No. Stop fighting me on this, you are not participating."

This cant be the end...what will everyone else think? Why are they so worried that I might get another virus? If I don't do the quest...ill die.
But if I dont participate will it actually count it?

You didn't know, it was your own quirk yet every second it was trying to kill you. I should have said good bye to everyone, bet they'll be surprised to find me dead.

Midnight stopped and opened up a room, you saw principal Nezu watching giant monitors before seeing you and smiling. 

"Sorry, you must be disappointed...Don't worry though ill let you in the pvp challenge."

"Why can't I participate in this challenge?"

"Like I said your quirk is way too powerful even if you've got a somewhat low stamina you could probably win in seconds. This festival is for students to get picked by heros so you would just take all their chances."

"Oh" so does this mean that the real challenge is the pvp contest? So you wont be dying just yet? Unless you actually get beaten by whoever you go against. 

"Although thats not quite what I called you here, I want you to help with some of the challenges. You are going to be an obstacle" 

               ———————————

"THE FIRST ROUND IS AN OBSTACLE COURSE! Its a free for all so first one to cross the finish line wins!" 

You were waiting at the end of the course, the instructions were easy, all you have to do it make sure that they dont get past. Simple enough. 

Maybe you shouldn't underestimate them...you were going up against everyone. Even scarier Bakugo and Todoroki, they were insanely strong. 

You gulped as present mic started up the course, you could see in the far distance the race already beginning, ice shot up and explosions were going off non stop. 

"Who's that girl?!"

"Is she an obstacle?"

Most of the students had finally reached the mine field, now it was your turn, using your wind you pushed them all back. 

Bakugo who was in the air went flying backwards, face planting into the ground. Todoroki used his ice to block and Midoriya hid behind his metal board. So these three will be the real problems. 

"[y/n]!?" They all said in unison. 

You almost started laughing when you saw Bakugos shocked and pissed off reaction to being thrown back. Lifting up your arm you sent another gust, this time it was much stronger. "Surprise Bitches."

                   ——————————
Sorry for being a lazy ass and not writing. Ive been feeling really sick and I totally had an allergic reaction to the fucking sun because my body thinks that VITAMIN D is bad. Lul. 

Anyway im back in business and ill start getting back on track. See ya later Peasants!

Word count 1142

"Christine, allow me to tell you who I really am," Corinna eagerly opened the conversation. "I was a bullying victim too."

"Really?" I asked Corinna. "Tell me what happened."

Corinna started off by narrating how she was cruelly treated by her own classmates in school as a fifth grader. 

In her recollection, Corinna tearfully revealed that she was constantly ignored and rebuked by her classmates while attempting to join their group. They saw Corinna as an 'ugly duckling' that does not have what it takes to be a lady.

To make matters worse, Charissa's classmates called her a 'disgusting piece of crap' and a 'poor and ugly SOB'. They even went as far as playing an ugly prank on Corinna. 

She recalled one particular moment when one classmate poured a tub of water behind Corinna's back.

"There was this girl who sneaked from behind and suddenly dropped a tub of water on me," Corinna said, her eyes leaking with tears. "My uniform and my whole body were so wet and I was so angry and annoyed that I refused to come back to class."

Eventually, with the urging of her class adviser, Corinna reluctantly made her way back to class. But the damage had been done.

After only a few months, Corinna's parents came to school and told the principal that they would withdraw her from school without further notice. While the principal eventually kicked out the offender responsible for the cruel prank on Corinna, she still left school anyway, never to return again.

"Christine, I felt so severely depressed at the time that taking my life became an unexpected option," she looked back at that emotional moment. "I wanted to have a decent education so bad, but the demands of social life snatched all the joy away."

At this point Corinna started to cry. Her tears melted some of the black eye-shadow off her eyes.

After hugging Corinna and telling her to unleash all of her pent-up emotion, she continued on with her story. This time the mood went from gloom to cheerful in a matter of minutes.

Determined to give her a second chance, Corinna's parents transferred her to a different school which was not far from the campus she previously attended. This time, however, she managed to fit in well with her new classmates.

"Upon moving to a new school, I thought I would receive a frosty reception," Corinna wistfully recalled. "Instead, my new classmates were more than willing to hang out and talk to me, and I enjoyed every moment of it."

Corinna's new classmates were also girls who were two years younger than her. But unlike her former classmates, they were not concerned about being beautiful and elegant; instead, they only aimed for academic excellence and nothing else.

Corinna thrived in her new surroundings and she eventually finished in the top 20 of her class in grade school. The same can also be said in high school where Corinna ended in the top 20 as well.

"Those were some of my best moments I ever experienced," Corinna related to me. "My new classmates helped me work hard on my education, and I got rewarded with it."

Corinna also excelled in debate competitions during high school. She was also a two-time poetry and declamation winner.

Still, not even a new environment prevented Corinna from escaping her troubled past. On a few occasions after class, Corinna went face to face with her former classmates who continued to taunt her at every turn.

"I still have nightmares from my old school every now and then," Corinna recalled. "But I largely ignored it because those new classmates wanted me to concentrate more on my studies and nothing else."

When Corinna entered college, she became determined to leave her troubled past behind. Corinna cut her hair short, inked some tattoos and began to dress in goth-inspired clothing.

Corinna and I went to her condominium unit thinking that she would change clothes. Instead, she took off her black shirt for a moment to reveal some tattoos and a navel ring.

Corinna's upper back tattoo is of her own name written in a Gothic-style lettering. She then showed me two more of them: a broken red heart near her right breast and three stars on her left abdomen.

"Gosh, you really changed a lot," I remarked on Corinna's personal transformation. "You went from nice to naughty this quick."

"Actually Christine I'm still a pretty nice person deep down," Corinna responded. "People sometimes misunderstood me for my choice of clothing, but who cares? I'm comfortable with my choice of outfits."

After putting on her shirt back, Corinna went to the balcony to smoke. Despite offering me one or two sticks of cigarettes, I refused her offer and told her of my dislike towards cigarette smoke.

Shortly after, we went back to campus and continued our conversation. Just then, Corinna encountered Michelle fresh from basketball practice.

"Who's this girl?" Michelle remarked about Corinna. "She looked more unconventional than most other girls."

"Michelle, don't get me wrong. This lady always wanted to look like a rebel because that's who she really is," I answered back. "In fact she is my classmate from creative writing class. Her name is Corinna." 

After she had politely introduced herself to Michelle, the three of us strolled leisurely through the hallway. But it was already 11:10 a.m. and Corinna had a class to attend.

"Christine, sorry but I have to go," Corinna announced to me. "I have class coming up in a few."

"Oh well," I replied earnestly. "We can communicate some other time, perhaps in class tomorrow. What can you say?"

"Why not?" Corinna smilingly assured me before walking gently to her classroom. "See you soon then."

After Corinna departed from our sights, Michelle and I were on our way to a different class. But Michelle still harbored personal doubts over her.

"Christine, I'm unsure about Corinna, though," Michelle wondered bitterly. "She acted very nice, but something about her ticked me off."

"Don't worry about it," I assured a doubtful Michelle. "It was her conscious decision to dress like that, but she's still a remarkably kind person to talk along with."

"Hope she stays like that," Michelle reluctantly accepted.

It was off to media ethics class for us. Yet in spite of my continued assurance regarding Corinna, Michelle remains uncertain of her.

Christine, a 22-year-old college student, decides to open a blog and write a story about her tormented past.

As a young child, Christine was constantly abused and mocked by her classmates for her nearsightedness and portly complexion. To make matters worse, she was left to live with her aunt after her mother was assigned to work overseas and her father became too preoccupied in his work as a doctor.

This story is about a young woman's pursuit towards positivity and joy amid these turbulent times. For Christine, all she wants now is to face her fears and overcome them one by one.

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