- ready player one by ernest cline
- forgive me, leonard peacock by matthew quick
Need to Review
- the perks of being a wallflower by stephen chbosky
- it's kind of a funny story by ned vizzini
- city of ashes by cassandra clare
- eleanor & park by rainbow rowell
- the divergent series by veronica roth
- the silver linings playbook by matthew quick
- wonder by rj palacio
- an abundance of katherine's by john green
- the eye of minds by james dashner
- the beginning of everything by robyn schneider
- the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde
- the brief and wondrous life of oscar wao by junot díaz
- mr. penumbra's 24-hour bookstore by robin sloan
It all started out as nightmares, dreams and visions of another family I was lucky to call my own. But one night, a hand stole me in the dark, bringing me faraway from my family. I’ve told my parents this recurring dream, and of course, they dismissed it. It wasn’t until I found this box of secrets did I finally believe my dreams were true.
It was a late Christmas Eve. The tree was adorned with ornaments I made back in middle school full of smiley faces, cut-out angels, and scribbles of colors I dare called art. I set down the milk and cookies like I always did, even though my fantasies of ever meeting Santa disappeared years ago. My mother would be baking her infamous Christmas pie by now, and my brother would be organizing the table as well. But the house speaks nothing but silence, a constant reminder of a past I never wanted to relive.
Without thinking, I turned on the television’s dedicated channel to playing Christmas carols. Immediately, the chorus began playing quietly. The rain was pouring so loud outside that I almost didn’t hear it.
“I’ll be home for Christmas.
You can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe.
And presents on the tree.
Christmas Eve will find you.
Where the love light gleams.
I’ll be home for Christmas.
If only in my dreams.”
I froze, hypnotized into feeling the same emotions that nearly killed me the first time I felt them. Suffocated in the memory, I found myself unable to breathe. Tears, reminiscent of that night, poured down like raindrops down my cheeks. This was our song. My dad was supposed to come home five years ago on this very night. But instead, a fellow officer from his station informed us the next day that he was killed, abandoned in an alleyway on the other side of town.
I was only eleven when I was waiting for him to come home on Christmas Eve. Instead, I found myself singing our song in the corner of my room in an attempt to drown myself in a melodic tune, knowing that he wasn’t ever going to come home.
So I’m practically going to reiterate what I’ve already said here. But I wanted to say is that, I’ve been holding off writing full-length for awhile. And maybe that’s the problem, I shouldn’t be thinking about full-length anymore. A story is a story, and whether it’s long or short, I’d rather read and create just a really good story.
So I’ve already created the first few chapters for the second book in the series, A Forgotten Past, which is kind of weird since I was rewriting Forgotten Reveries on this tumblr a bit. But who fucking cares I can write my stories in any order I want.
Anyways, as I’ve said before in the previous post, Forgotten Reveries was written on a different website (which is still up and running), but I’m planning on porting the original story onto Tumblr in the coming weeks, just so that you (and I) may look at the progress and differences the rewrites of Forgotten Reveries are compared to the original.
Meanwhile, you can follow both the progress of Forgotten Reveries and A Forgotten Past by following the tag followfg.
Ah yes, the flute
this reminds me of spanish 1. my teacher decided to use this picture for the word “piscina” and everyone thought it meant violin lololol
don’t you ever feel there’s a lot of teenagers out there having the time of their lives they are rich and famous and then there it’s you
I like to hangout with people that make me forget to look at my phone
this is the single greatest thing i have watched in my existence