Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Spooky Season, Writing

Flashback – I Love You, Bye.

“I love you. Byeeeeeee.”

Lewis mouthed the final word along with Rose, her sweet smile fading to black as the video ended. His daughter sat transfixed beside him, her hand feeling blindly for the mouse to select the next video.

She, like every other young girl was obsessed with Rose and her videos. An entire generation of young women was transfixed, and while many parents couldn’t understand why, they did their best to accommodate their children’s love for the star. Lewis was prepared to go the extra mile, for his only child, Hannah.

“No more.” He muttered, patting her head gently and ignoring the small moan of disappointment from Hannah. “We’ll see plenty of her later.”

“Special meet up! Special meet up!” He smiled, watching his daughter bounce in the chair beside him, in sync with her chants of excitement.

The day had finally arrived when his daughter would meet her idol. It had been months in the making, and many hours of careful planning and hard work for Lewis, but it didn’t bother him. How could it? He wanted only happiness for his daughter, and he knew Rose could understand that.

“That’s right.” He stood from his chair, extending his hand to her. “And why do you get a special meet up?” He asked as she jumped down from the computer chair.

“Because I’m her favourite.” He nodded, leading her towards the basement, and unable to suppress a smile as he looked down at her bright eyes, sparkling with excitement.

He opened the door and could feel his daughter pulling at his sleeve, silently pleading for him to take her downstairs. He had teased her for weeks, warning that going to the basement would ruin her special surprise.

Rose had replaced Santa in ensuring good behaviour from his child, but he had seen her, sneaking a look down the stairs of the basement, hoping to catch a glimpse of her idol, but just like Santa, Rose would only appear on one very special day, before vanishing from sight, and being nothing more than a dream.

As they slowly descended the staircase, a small whimper could be heard, and while any normal child would be frightened, Hannah didn’t seem concerned.

As they reached the floor of the dimly lit basement, an upturned water bowl at the foot of the stairs was the only thing visible, until Lewis reached up and switched on the light, and Rose, dishevelled and exhausted was finally visible.

Rose wasn’t quite herself, she usually accessorised so well, but ropes around her wrists and ankles wasn’t quite the look she’d usually go for. As Hannah ran to her, screaming with excitement, Rose’s hoarse voice could barely be heard.

“Please let me go.”

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Laying in the bed that she made all alone – A Poem For Gabbie Hanna

Applause is not instant,

and to you, that is an insult.

The damsel who demands attention but does nothing to keep it,

nailing names to the bottom of expensive shoes and trampling through mud,

just to make sure that you stay relevant.


wayward winter child,

it’s all such a hardship,

isn’t it?

Lost in Los Angeles,

praying that you’ll stay on people’s minds,

taking it so personally that nobody takes you seriously,

and it’s all so hard,

and we are all so manipulative and money hungry!

I am not unempathetic,

but darling,

it’s pathetic to pretend that you deserve praise for putting your soul in peril and being vulnerable.

To be alive is to be vulnerable,

half the kids you baited and switched,

convinced to buy a piece of your soul,

are vulnerable,

and they came away with nothing to say about “Relative” and “Filler”

because what was there to fill the air with?

What conversation could be had?

If you didn’t want them discussed,

you should have left them locked up in your head, but instead,

of course,

you pour over reviews and comments,

raining with rage at the disrespect of dissent from your once loyal pay pigs.

Applause is not instant,

and to you, that is an insult,

because you never stopped to think that the hands that clap are connected to real people.