The screech of brakes momentarily stopped Sandra's heart. Instinctively, as only a mother can intuit, she knew something awful had happened to Warren. Letting slip the dish cloth from her shaking hands, not caring anymore about the chore, Sandra sprinted out of the kitchen. Her heart once more stopped for five long seconds when she saw the open front door. “Dad,” she called to her father, “where's Warren? Warren!” she yelled for her six-year-old son. He was mildly autistic and tended to wander off if unsupervised, which was hardly ever, but this afternoon she had left Warren in the care of her septuagenarian father, assuming he would be safe. Before she reached the door, her father said, “He's in the garden, Sandra. But don't worry; the gate's closed, dear.” Sandra nearly stumbled upon sighting the open gate which led straight to the busy road that ran in front of their modest two-bedroom council home. Warren was nowhere in sight. Behind her, Gavin stepped out of the house to follow his daughter. The old man was shocked to see the wide-open front gate. “Sandra,” he called out, “did you find Warren?” The old man was now beyond panic; not seeing Warren in the yard where he had last left him caused Gavin's breathing to increase with the onset of heart palpitations. “I'm checking the road, Dad,” Sandra yelled as she stepped out into the street. Her worst fears were realised when she saw her son slowly rise to his feet, mere meters away from the front bumper of a stationary panel van. A crowd had surrounded the scene. “Dear God!” Sandra gasped upon spotting the blood pouring from a deep gash on Warren's forehead. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, clearly broken. With a heartrending scream Sandra ran to Warren, reaching him just as he tumbled back to the ground. “Mama. Van bump Warren,” he said before passing out. “Ma'am, ma'am. Please, let me put him in my van to take him to hospital,” someone said to a distraught Sandra. She looked up at the stranger, her brain making the connection that this was the driver who had knocked her son over. Before Sandra could fling recriminations and curses at him, he said, “He came out of nowhere, I swear!” Picking Warren up gingerly, Sandra said curtly, “Take us to the closest hospital,” not trusting herself to say anything more. Sandra felt she had buried her heart with her little boy. She stared at a framed photograph of Warren, tears streaming copiously down her cheeks. “How can I go on without you? You were the love of my life, Warren, my whole world,” she sobbed on the third night after his interment. Minutes later she fell asleep, only to wake to a warm glow in her room. “Mommy, I'm here, always. God loved me so much He wanted me with Him, but He told me my spirit will be with you forever.” Sandra stared in disbelief at the vision, convinced that she was dreaming. But then she felt Warren's small, soft, baby hand wiping away her tears, and with his touch, a profound sense of calm descended upon her. “Be happy for me, Mommy. I am whole now,” Warren said, smiling that special smile of his. He embraced Sandra in a comforting hug before slowly vanishing from her arms. As if her beloved, departed son's touch had healed her broken heart, Sandra's tears welled up anew. This time, they were ones of gratitude for the merciful miracle she had been granted. Six months later, Sandra sat beside Warren's grave, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers she had lovingly created. Sandra gently replaced the wilted flowers in the graveside vase with the fresh arrangement. “Hi, beautiful boy,” she greeted Warren. “I feel your presence nearly all the time; I know you're no longer in pain. I've got news for you,” she added with a smile. “I'm getting married next week, and I'm pregnant. You were my special gift, Warren, and this new baby will learn all about you. I promise.” Sandra left the cemetery with dry eyes, her heart overflowing with immeasurable love and peace. Image: Courtesy of Nancy Herrendoerff

Today is a new day...a day of hopes, a day of hopelessness...a day of acceptance of prayers, a day of rejection of my prayers. This day 1 year back I lost my paternal uncle. It was a tragic day and his demise shook us all internally. We could hardly believe what was happening also because this was very sudden, and he was just 51...I never got to have long chit chats or deep, lengthy conversations with him as he was an introverted and reserved person and liked to talk less but was an equally generous and kind-hearted person, a pure soul in and out who could never do anything bad for anyone, not even to those who did bad with him at a certain point in life. A self-made man, caring and empathetic he was. I always saw him at peace and patience, I have never seen him shooing off any beggar away from him rather he always gave money to the poor and needy ones. He always made me feel like he is my second dad after my own biological father and I always felt sweet, fatherly vibes from him. I have sweet, silent memories with him which I will always remember. Can't believe it's been a year to this shock. I just know he is at complete peace up there and is watching me, blessing me and is much happier than he used to be in this harsh world :') I wish the best place in paradise for him and wish to meet him in our afterlife in heaven inshaAllah. Ameen ❤ I miss you, chacha!

Love is a feeling that is indescribable. It's like soaring through the sky, your wings spread wide and free like that of a bird's, on a clear and beautiful day over a city with thousands of lights. It's like running through a field and feeling the wind blow through your hair and hitting your face as you race by. It's like waking up after having the most wonderful of dreams, and nothing during the day can stop you from smiling until you return to a blissful sleep later in the evening. You want to find the words for it, but none can possibly be enough to express what you feel in these moments. It's the same with love--as cliche as that sounds--and it's one of the greatest things to feel in your lifetime. It's more than lust. More than joy. More than anything else. All I've desired since I was a child was love, to fall in love and stay in it, and after so long I have to come realize that I'm experiencing just that. After years of disappointment, misery, rejection, heartbreak, and loss I have fallen in love once more and I couldn't be happier. In the mornings I wake up and go on with my dreadful day, dressing myself and doing early chores, before leaving the rest to my siblings. As I walk out the door I am stressed by the potential of missing my bus and having to wait nearly half an hour before the next can arrive. I sneer at the others on the bus, men and women and children alike who exchange a similar dirty glance with me, before taking my seat (typically in the rear) and wait to arrive at my stop, ignoring all around me as I stare out the window with my earbuds blasting at full volume to block them out. I arrive at the stop and quickly jump onto the second bus, repeating the same process again, before getting off and walking to my school. I stand before the doors for some time waiting for him to arrive, disappointed each time I look up at a new arrival only to see a stranger I barely converse with or a close acquaintance I normally do not speak to, until finally I see him approach. Feeling the heat rise to my face I turn my head and pretend I saw not a thing. I don't want him to know I expected him to arrive. He then suddenly hugs me, greeting me with a simple "hello" typically, before returning to his group of friends I saw come earlier. I wait until they open the doors for the day to begin smiling to myself for a brief moment. Lunch later arrives and I come up from the staircase, out of breath and exhausted beyond belief. I take a break at our table before watching him intently as he jokes about. Each time he glances back I turn my head once more, pretending to find the sky outside far more interesting than the remaining morons in the cafeteria. He then takes a seat next to me and pulls me close to himself, and I am content once more. The day then ends and we walk side-by-side together to the bus. I have recently been walking him to his building to spend just some more time with him before I head back to the hell my family calls home, where food is scarce among us and my mother works too long to notice the little things anymore. We are forced to be our own caretakers in a house where only half are old enough to do things on their own while the rest must wait for our mother to return late in the evening. I occasionally come up with him and join his family when I have enough time before taking my leave back home. Despite what I expect to find as I walk into that door to the right on the 10th floor, I keep the smile I wear around him in hopes it'd help get me through the afternoon until my blissful sleep numbs my sorrows once again. This man has made me feel more than my family, friends, and interests ever could. This man has given me enough reason to keep breathing every single day. He gives me reason to smile, to laugh, to just enjoy my life as it is. This is something I have not felt in years, and I never want it--or him--to leave me again. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want us to go on through our college years together, perhaps not in the same school, and come out stronger than we were before. I want us to achieve our dreams, get married, make the sweetest moments of love later in the night, have a loving home and family, grow old together until we both die peacefully, and just move past the pain we endured as children as two souls unite into one beating heart that goes on into forever--a single eternal flame that never burns out. Yet, at the same time, I have an unrelenting fear that he'd grow bored. He'd find me disgusting, childish, and leave me for another. While I will not stop him from perusing his dreams and wants the pain will still be there. The pain I felt so long ago when I had lost my dear Tony, and when I heard my lover had slept with my dearest friend nearly a year ago, will be there again, and I fear that I will not survive it this time. Being in love is the greatest feeling one can ever have. Yet, it comes at a painful price. Can I truly ever pay it?

I was teary eyed. My fight had fallen to grips of sorrow. Too much pain not enough joy to borrow let alone call my own. I sold my soul for a fist full of charcoal. My gift was to cash this check given to me by him. The light will one day dim. Suffering is crucial to life, joy, and grief. Watch as the final leaf falls. I adore all, all my friends, my foes all which I know by their names. The truth is that we do not exist. The truth is that pain is the closest we will ever come to being real. I feel sorrow from a far. I feel pain as people's lives wax and wane. Am I sane am I gone will I ever live long enough to be a don. Will I have a son will I have a daughter. My heart is mangled my mind is twisted. I am a fragment of what I once was. I am a swing without a child to play on me. See all things that are and you will near zero. Truth is zero does not exist. I believe not in evil. But if evil does not exist do I. I wish to travel the world fly above all things and smile. Maybe then may I be happy may I be sane. This dam of mine is falling and I will not live long enough to have someone to call darling. Tomorrow may come undone. Maybe tomorrow will be the end of me because of that I must seep in the cracks and only then may I live. These days have made me mad, and Iron Clad. Will I ever marry? Will I see my wife or husband? Who is to know if I will ever see the sky with my name etched on it? The shade is wise. Wiser than us all and I will never see its beauty. I will never see what pain and joy truly are. I am willing to be my own martyr I will feast on only fodder. These clovers in front of me do not wish to live or give a wish. Dare I dare to give my life for this world? This life of mine has seen the flames of the sun, and it has come undone. The shadow is cool but you cannot live in darkness. This softness of this girl is as close to perfect that I have ever seen. While I remain dark, and this mark of mine will be my victory. So I say as I end this; look past the joy, and see the dark.