The Great Wave of Kanagawa

By Simran Seera

The Great Wave of Kanagawa:

I could feel its presence,

Its shadow envelopes me, completely.

I find myself in the middle,

Of an ocean I never thought to be deadly.

But still, I looked into the eyes of death, 

The hues of deep green cascaded around me.

Frozen, in a moment trapped by time,

I was left to admire Nature’s beauty. 

He was powerful and strong, 

He had motive in his purposeful strides, 

Although he was completely still,

There was grace in the movement of this tide.

It forced my people into air, 

It lifted us higher and higher,

It made us feel alive,

Yet, I am one of the few survivors. 

But did I truly survive this wave, 

Or did it let me escape?

For nature has its own mind 

And I have my own fate.

Frozen, a moment in time,

Frozen, trapped in my mind. 

Twilight and how it shaped this generation: A love-hate story

By Simran Seera

Twilight and how it shaped this generation: A love-hate story

Now, I'm sure you’ve heard of the Twilight saga and if you haven’t then, why not? 

The Twilight Saga is one of the most influential franchises of our generation whether we like it or not. But that’s the thing – why don’t we like it? Why has Twilight become something we all love to hate? Perhaps it was Bella’s awkwardness or the blue tint throughout the movie, maybe even Jacob Black creating a love triangle no one asked for. It’s hard to say but I think we can agree that it definitely wasn’t the baseball scene that made it bad. Personally, I think Twilight is like Jacob, a breed of its own. Yes, it’s cringe-inducing and can be repetitive, but it’s also a good franchise with at times lovable characters and an interesting take on the supernatural world. A friend said it even “put the super in supernatural.” I think it’s safe to say Twilight is a guilty pleasure for most people – everyone hates on it, but I guarantee people do still like it., that’s why it was so big in the first place. A source admitted that she “did think it was cringey, but it has now become a guilty pleasure.” But ultimately our love, hate and this saga creates a bigger love triangle than Edward, Jacob and Bella ever could.

Twilight took the world by storm in 2008, only Alice’s precognition could’ve foreseen this result. The first movie was expected to only make $29 million but made almost $70 million on the opening weekend and $400 million overall. Since then, it’s made its lasting impact on us all. Twilight’s become a rite of passage for teenagers and its blood has stained our lives forever. If you haven’t seen or read it, you’ve probably been isolating yourself like Bella in New Moon. Like a friend stated it was “an easy trend to follow” as “there is nothing like it.” There’s no sugar-coating it’s effect, it took control of the media, and everyone started buying merchandise and picking their side in the controversial debate of Edward or Jacob.  Let’s be honest, we all picked a side and there are no wrong answers, except Jacob. He will always be the wrong answer. Edward supremacy. Rightfully so, everyone I interviewed said they were, and I quote “#TeamEdward,” and said particularly “Jacob was annoying.”

But before there was the brooding Edward Cullen and Bella Swan, there was Beauty and the Beast. It’s a tale as old as time, almost every child has heard the story and now the trope presents itself again, in the form of the “Lamb” and the “masochistic Lion” - the monster she can “change”. A source declared the trope was among their favourites “at the time.” The Vampire itself has appeared throughout time before Twilight in: Dracula, Nosferatu, Buffy the vampire slayer and others but they all pale in comparison to Edward, who rightfully sits (and sparkles) in the vampire hall of fame. A source stated that she “used to love Buffy the vampire slayer as a young girl.”

After it’s premiere, shows became all about the supernatural world. A source stated Twilight was filled with “romance, darkness and mystery” – elements these shows try to convey. The Vampire Diaries, piloted in 2009; references the Twilight movies when male lead Damon flips through a copy of New Moon and asks what makes Bella so special because “Edward’s so whipped”. Teen Wolf and The Supernatural are shows that also shaped this generation, airing during the same period and for the same demographic as Twilight. According to ‘People’ magazine, Twilight has been referenced in countless shows like The Simpsons, Family Guy, Superstore and has its own parody movie ‘Vampires suck’ (because that was so needed). Even movies you wouldn’t expect started as Twilight fan-fiction, believe it or not. It’s even been referenced in songs comparing one’s love to be “bigger than the Twilight love affair”. After interviewing a few people, I found a lot “watched The Vampire Diaries and Sabrina the teenage witch.”

Twilight led us to the world of fantasy books. A friend claimed it was her “introduction to the genre.” Current books like ‘From blood and ash’ “felt like a reboot for the classic supernatural series” according to a source. It echoes Twilight and reiterates the male vampire you can casually fall in love with – as one does. A source stated it was “similar to Twilight in so many ways as it still has vampires and werewolves who work together to defeat vampires from an enemy kingdom” like the Volturi in the Twilight saga. Even ‘The Spanish love deception’, a bestseller published in 2021, which is not aimed at the supernatural references the Twilight saga when the characters argue over vampires and werewolves. Twilight is the first spark that ignited the supernatural world. It’s where we were first forced to choose between Vampires and Werewolves and suddenly everyone wished Forks was a real place and listened to the Clair de Lune. But it’s longest lasting impact is ‘Isabella’ and ’Jacob’ becoming the Top Baby names in America in 2009 and 2010. If that’s not love for a franchise, I don’t know what is. I also don’t understand why that is, out of all the potential characters one could’ve chosen, since many would agree with a source who said she “hates Bella and Jacob with a passion.”

Twilight threw Robert Pattinson, Kirsten Stewart and Taylor Lautner into the spotlight. And since, Taylor Lautner’s fiancée has admitted to being Team Edward, Kirsten Stewart starred in ‘Spencer’ and Robert Pattinson has taken the mask of ‘The Batman’. Arguably, Edward Cullen is what allowed this to happen. Despite Edward explicitly stating he isn’t a superhero; you can’t help but notice the many ways Edward Cullen is like Bruce Wayne. They’re both rich. Brooding. Creatures of the night. They both have a knack for saving people from car accidents. And most importantly, they both have the (to quote Edward) “what if I’m not a superhero? What if I’m the bad guy?” complex - a morally blurry take on a ‘good’ guy.  Am I saying Edward Cullen is basically a superhero? No. I’m also not saying Batman is a vampire. But they are both characters who we are made to like despite their flaws and so it makes perfect sense Pattinson is becoming a well-liked Batman – he already was a well-liked Bat. Well vampire, but you see my point. Even when asked why a source liked Twilight “Robert Pattinson” was a huge factor. 

So, Twilight. Do we hate it? I don’t think we do. I think we like using it as the punchline of our jokes, but everyone secretly loves watching it. So, do we love it? Yes, we are “unconditionally and irrevocably in love with” it. It’s the perfect saga if you want to laugh, or cry, or feel good about yourself as you watch Bella’s questionable life choices. To quote a source I have interviewed “we get to see the growth in the relationship between Edward, Bella and Jacob into a trio that will be remembered throughout the decades,” and “they were amazing for the era they were released in.” Even though there are times I wish certain lines didn’t exist in the movie because of how cringe-worthy they are, it's not that bad of a saga. If not the whole saga, the first movie definitely isn’t that bad. A source agreed saying “the acting was good” and despite “the cringeyness” it is “somehow a good storyline.”  It’s like what Robert Pattinson recently said in an interview “It’s not even cool to be a hater anymore. That’s so 2010.” If you haven’t seen it, go watch it. If you like it, amazing. If you don’t want to explicitly like it, feel free to hate on it publicly with the rest of us as we go and watch it again for the 104th time. Real fans will get the reference.

Three Haiku

I

I breathe in hot air
The sun moulds me and I live
Another moment

II

A wind stirs the trees
Sings a tender lullaby
The leaves softly sleep

III

The berries are mighty on the bush
They fall to the ground
Alone once more

God's Funeral

I killed God. What are you going to? Go pray? Cry?

He is on my side. Religion is a sham. I could just bribe to get to heaven,
if it exists, which it doesn’t. Life is dumb. Money is all that matters. Mo-ney.
Money is the root of all evil? Who made that joke, the poor?
Poverty is a sham too. They should just decrease the surplus population,
teach them not to be lazy. If your so called ‘God’ is loving,
why would he create something as monstrous as that?
Stop wasting my time.

I killed God. What a sadistic maniac. Laughing at the suffering
of humanity. I did you all a favour. Treating us like guinea pigs,
he is worse than Satan, even killed more than him. Satan should be
our God, he is much nicer. Or me. Just for today. Striking down unholy ones.
God of Gods. I can corrupt your innocence. Stain your deepest desires.
Worthless you are. You cannot fathom my power, I am the greatest!
I will use you, hate you, mock you. Your life is in my hands.
I am God.

I killed God. Every night I pray to you, awaiting your soothing words.
You are my life, every aspect is yours, I give charity, help the sick,
without you I am nothing. But why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t you talk to me?
My prayers aren’t answered I answer yours I wrote fabulous words of praise
brought heaven onto Earth why wont you recognise me
please. I love you.
Please.
Just one sign, I know your busy, but all my life working for you just for
one sign. You heartless

I am your saviour, your villain
Don’t glorify me with your praises and poems,
broken smiles hidden
like a cemetery full of emotions.                                                                                                          
Why so sad? So serious?
All my pseudonyms will be forgotten,
don’t judge me, don’t forgive me,
don’t forget me, this isn’t the end.

Oh you preachers of instruction manuals, do you believe? Convert?
Do thieves steal? Are murderers humane?
Riding in golden hearses, turning water to dirt.
Your deeds became evil and now they loathe your name.
Are they insane — or am I insane?
Unlike you my heart is blackened,
the tamed darkness does not envelop me
but dances angelically, with a warm smile. Be free,
unlock the glass doors behind the façade.
Then we can save God
and find a new name.

Dhanyaal Samir

Letter from Hell

Ever since the war each day is the same. Wake up and eat our peas and carrots, cooked by our mum, bland and tasteless as always. Read our newspapers, that were always a week out of date, and watch the news, which dad always seemed to have criticisms of. The most enjoyable days were when we sat together and opened our letters — even with the postman at times.


The intervention of the ‘Midlands Zone’ changed us. Father and brother left without a sign and mother’s health is slowly deteriorating and she is growing old. Did you have to leave? The tales of flames and ruins are exciting, I worry for you, following brother’s passing your letters became more violent and the flames turned into damnation. Father was a positive man, the community admired his supply of wood during cold winters, the youth treated him as a celebrity. The youth have grown old now and that celebrity has disappeared.

The postman had no letters for me today. Everyday. Why did you stop writing? The news reports the invasion of damnation is victorious, but the postman has vanished. The best we can do is pray that this is over, though I am not religious. How many attacks on inferno have there been?

The photographs are gone. His face blackened and set ablaze. Mother stands by the bonfire surrounded by smoke and tears. You cannot erase a memory from existence, she ignores me and turns her back against the blaze. Smiling.

No one saw that smile, now becoming dark void. The peas and carrots, news and newspapers aren’t the same anymore — singing their melodic song of lies. Now they’re greeting her at the gates of hell to work on the factory floor. Constructing weapons and equipment for sixty hours a week. I fear for her. I never saw the pain in your smile, and if you read this, don’t worry about us. I couldn’t be the son you wanted, it’s my fault, when this chaos is over let’s meet like good times.

Another funeral. Hungry and tired. Damnation and redemption call me, but I have no interest in them.
“Pick a side you coward.”
“How can I choose a side when they’re both the same?”
“Pick a side. You’re old enough.”
“Hell or Heaven. East or West.”
Do you remember the colours, the people, the pictures, the emotions of love and happiness? There isn’t anyone left to remember. Only the corpses of skeletons. Those who looked at me with sympathy now glare at me with rage. I’m no criminal or murderer, why do you give me murderous looks? People keep disappearing and I wonder when it’s my turn to disappear.

The postman came back today. The limping, one armed postman. He had a letter for me. Giving it to me with sympathetic looks, I felt the coldness radiating from the letter. Together we peeled open the brown paper. The same letter brother and father received. Calling me to the ‘Londinium zone’. Still no letter from dad but I might finally see him again.

Line up and get in line. Man behind man and weapon in hand. Damnation greets me with a bloodied fiery smile. Why are we here? Not defending or attacking. Only a deafening silence. Dull and lifeless, just like home, no sign of dad yet. Carrots and peas, even potatoes too, the usual flavourless feeling. The mice seem to enjoy it.

Our battlefield is our home. Don’t tell mother I am on this battlefield. My letters to her are full of lies and my letters to dad haven’t been responded to in years.

We are going home by Christmas — the colonel tells us. Where is home? I admire the iron-willed man, but he has the same dreary expression as us, the fear of the unknown. He says we’re going to attack Londinium tomorrow. Damnation is hungry, I can feel it.

I woke to the burning of the night. Screams muffled by the screaming bursts of the firestorm. I see no enemy, only inferno. The colonel orders us to attack the flames. The military band plays as man after man charge over the muddy hills with their bibles and broken twigs, smothering the fire with their bodies. They hug death thinking their tears can save them. I can’t save you. Hopelessly watching friends accept their fate.

I sit on the scorched Earth surrounded by a sad blackened landscape and the foul smell of charred wood. A dark layer envelops the sky protecting the stars from the depressing sight below. The trees topple like dominoes, becoming ash and helpless. Every sign of life is gone. Hearing the last eagle screech and come splatting against the ground. The Earth is bleeding.

My rations are running low. Corpses all around me. Nobody in sight. Legs are broken. The fire surrounds me. I am no coward; I will go down smiling. The flames loom closer as my smile is being burnt off. The heat is unbearable. My skin is being peeled off in unison with my uniform melting. I can’t feel pain or my body anymore, my muscles won’t move. Was I on the good side? It doesn’t matter I am going to die. The delicious smell of cooked meat combats the smoke in the air, I can almost taste it.

One last supper, there is mother, father and my brother all huddled around me. With their bright smiles, knives and forks, they carve chunks out of me one at a time. They talk of their days at work, dad bought a new car, brother got a new job and mum is wearing a white rose dress. I am finally home and I don’t want to die, but It’s all in my head. The military band plays to their lullabies, the trumpets and drums boom. Their songs begin to die out, they give me a warm hug as I rest my head on the ground below as the burning clock tower comes crashing down beside me.

Dhanyaal Samir

Summer haiku

The weather scatters

Sun accompanies the flowers

New life must devour

By Aishah

From Joe Goldberg’s perspective

 By Simran Seera

(Following the end of season 3 of You)

And as I walked away from the house of flames, our suburban dreams igniting alongside it, I couldn’t help but feel empty without you. 

It wasn’t your fault, Love. You loved me. You loved Henry. We loved Henry. We did what we had to do for our son. We weren’t conventional, but what family is? Even Daisy and Gatsby’s story was tainted. Ill-fated. Running red with blood. We were the same. But I’m sorry, Love. You went too far. You loved too much; I am better off without you.

Sun Dome

Chapter 1

The dome was breaking.

Not that anyone called them biodomes anymore- probably because people had grown as lazy as the technology used to build them, especially now that the thick and stifling heat from the Outside was beginning to seep in through the fractures.

Ceraphina stalked down the gravel-covered path, peeling away her shirt from her sweaty collarbone and shaking stray stones out of her trainers. She needed new ones- had needed new ones for the last three months- but one of the textile production domes had collapsed four months ago, causing cotton and material production to go stagnant.

Cee fanned herself with the collar of her grimy shirt as she stared up at the dome. The first crack had appeared a week ago, spider-webbing across the clear, bio-electric forcefield that seemed to shift when the light hit it. If Cee counted correctly, they had roughly three weeks until Biotech decreed it a threat and they would move everyone out.

But for now, Cee was focusing on securing food for the week before the Helpers ran out of it.

They came every week with as many crates as the food production domes could make with the resources they had. At first, there was some sense of order when it came to how much you could take, but after multiple successful attempts to swarm the Helpers so they could take as much as they pleased, it had now turned into a fight for survival for food, and the stragglers at the end without it were left to steal from the others.

Cee had been one of them months ago- she had broken one of her shoes that way whilst trying to fight someone for the last crate of food. She lost and her mother didn’t speak to her for that week. Cee had resorted to other measures to get food then, involving stealing from many pantries. Her mother had only begun talking to her the week after, when she had secured one crate of food.

More people were beginning to file down the path, heading to the dome’s Central Square. Every dome had a Central Square where the Helpers would situate themselves and deal out the food crates for the week.

Cee needed to hurry so she could secure a spot at the front of the crowd. Over the past few years, as she had grown older and replaced her mother as being the member of the family to collect the food crate, she had learnt the hard way that the best spot for food collection was right at the front of the crowd, being one of the first to collect their crate. No one cared when you were stuck at the back and the middle was overlooked. As long as you were at the front, you were in their eye line. As long as you were at the front, you were the first to get food.

Cee rounded the corner and the Central Square unfolded before her. Ramshackle market stalls were set up around the perimeter, their shutters pulled down for the fifteen-minute interval that everyone had in dome C32E had to collect their food.

People were already taking up spots at the front of the square that was beginning to slowly fill up with people. Alarm bells pealed in Cee’s head, and she rushed into the growing mass.

Chapter 2

The heat of a crowd was vastly different to the heat of summer radiation seeping through the fractures above.

The summer radiation was direct, sharp and focused. The heat of a crowd was stifling, suffocating, drowning. It was all you could focus on, because it surrounded you from all angles.

Cee braced her hands on the metal railing before her as the crowd surged forward, trying to break the barrier between them and the food crates stacked up on the wooden stage before them.

A sudden groan echoed above them, and Cee looked up to see another crack spreading across the clear dome. People paused for a minute and looked up.

That was quick. Another fracture wouldn’t usually appear for a couple of days.

Even the Helpers had paused their stacking to look up at the fresh crack. Heat immediately poured in, and Cee felt sticky beads of sweat form on her brow.

She was going to pass out if they didn’t let everyone gather their provisions soon.

Then another crack formed, branching off from the one that had appeared a moment ago, people gasped and a few even screamed as the echo of this one was louder than the first.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The dome would undergo a gradual breakage which gave Biotech time to issue Bionauts that would move everyone out. This felt too quick. Sudden. The echoes of the cracks made it seem like the dome was laughing at their incompetence- their foolishness for thinking they had time.

Once the echoes lessened, the Helpers moved the barrier and everyone’s attention immediately switched.

People charged forward from behind and Cee used her hands to push off from the barrier, giving her momentum to surge forward and snatch a food crate. The Helpers ran to the side as chaos unfolded.

Cee snatched a crate and slung the straps over her shoulders so the crate fitted on her like a backpack. Cee took off, rushing down the steps and out of the fray as quick as possible, feeling the worn soles of her shoes slap against the dusty ground.

People were shouting behind her and Helpers were barking orders behind her. Cee gripped the straps for dear life until someone yanked the crate from behind and Cee went down.

Cee rolled over in time to see someone take off with her provisions for the week. She scrambled to her feet and sprinted forward before practically leaping onto the man who had taken her crate. The guy stumbled and fell and Cee used all her strength to get the crate back, the guy’s hands scraping into her own to loosen her grip.

“Let go!” Cee yelled and scratched her nails down the side of his face. The guy cried out and Cee took the crate out of his loosened grip before she ran and ran, skidding around turns and bends until she declared that she had lost the crowd in Central Square.

Cee pressed herself against a warm stone wall and panted, evening out her breaths before she carried on, her legs aching, her heart beating.

She had done it. She had secured food for the week.

Chapter 3

Back in the Old Era- around the 1800’s- people had pantries to act as an addition to the home that would store food. No one ever regarded a pantry as a serious room in the house. Now, fast-forward to the New Era, pantries were a source of survival.

Pantries were now issued by Biotech to every charted house in every charted dome, a large metal block with built-in air conditioning and heating with shelves and cupboards to store weekly provisions.

Cee shut and locked the door behind her. There were three locks on the door, all built in by her mother before she died of Sun Sickness a month ago.

The whole house felt...empty without her mother. Hollow. Like a shell without life inside.

The windows were covered in dust and dirt and while most people cleaned theirs, Cee left them grimy. Half to stop people from peering in and half because she was leaving soon.

She made quick work of stocking up her pantry again for the week before she flopped down on her bed. Her room wasn’t much to behold. It was small, with enough space for a bed (with thin sheets because it was always warm and there was never a need for a thick duvet) by a window with a thick curtain drawn over it to again, hide from spying eyes. A small cupboard stacked with a few of Cee’s shirts and trousers stood adjacent to her bed.

Cee rolled over and shoved a hand under her pillow, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper with grubby fingerprints all over it. She rolled back onto her back and unfolded it, revealing an old advertising poster to join the Bionauts.

Bionauts were Biotech’s exploration team, researching the Outside and the environment beyond the domes for any signs of life so that the population could live in safety without the need for domes. But with multiple failed excursions and many deaths from the violent weather patterns outside the domes, people had begun to lose hope of a world without domes. Without danger.

But even though Bionauts had the threat of death looming over them, they were housed in the Central Dome, where Biotech HQ also was. Which meant better food, better housing, better clothing, better everything.

And Cee wanted that.

She could run. She could fight. She had notes scrawled all over the back of the poster on how to defend, attack, the types of things she could say that would grant her a place among the Bionauts.

She had to get in. She had to get a place because she wasn’t staying here.

She had heard that Biotech had a harsh testing scheme to select Bionauts. Thousands of people from different domes were tried and tested to get into the program, if only to escape the looming threat of their dome collapsing because everyone knew it, the technology to build the Central dome was better than the type used to build all the other domes.

But Cee would take any test they gave her. She had to.

A rumble suddenly shook the tiny house and Cee sat up in bed, suddenly alert. The small light fixture on the ceiling swayed and creaked above her, and Cee heard people coming out of their homes, their shadows passing by her dirty windows.

Cee slipped off her bed and slid on her broken shoes before hurrying out the house as another rumble made the house shake again. Cee gripped the door for balance before pulling it open and stepping outside-

People screamed as the first piece of the dome fell.

Amaani Meharban

From Scarlett Witch’s perspective

 By Simran Seera

(Following the events of Wandavision)

Do you see me as the villain? Do you fear me like they do? I can hear their screams, I can feel their pain. It’s devouring me from the inside. Do you think I want this?

I watched them play in the park, the sun’s rays reflecting the happiness in their eyes. They were smiling. The way every parent wants to see their children smile. 

The difference between me and you, the thing that makes me the ‘villain’ you all see is that you all claim that you would do anything for your family. You claim you’d take the worlds pain in exchange for your child’s smile. You’re full of empty promises. But me? I feel every ounce of pain so that they don’t have to, so that they can live.

Do you see me as the villain? Do you think I want this? For them, I’d do it all again. I am the Scarlett witch, I am chaos ensued, I am destined for this. The world made me this way

Youth

What is youth?

Maybe it's the feeling of the sun hitting your skin; warm, seeping and deepening its rays into the little crevices on your body. That feeling that is nice at first - and you relish this warmth - but it soon becomes overwhelming, and you think about how much you hate the sun (but you just forgot the feeling of heat after so many days in the rain). Maybe it's that feeling of waking up in the morning; eyes glued shut with those gross little eye boogers dug into the edges of your tear duct, and your alarm blaring while the birds call out. You then silently swear at those birds and your stupid alarm, and groggily wipe your eyes as you dread the day ahead of you. It's the sound of loud shouts and cries, uncontrollable laughter and slapping on the table. It's the way that the morning dew seems to sit so nicely atop the grass that day, and the other teenagers waiting by your bus stop, staring silently at the road. Maybe it's even the way the moon looks on that night that you decide to sneak out of your house, climbing out the window and sitting on the damp bench in the back garden at 2:30 am. It's the feeling of wishing so fervently to grow up, and to let go of everything, to finally be, but still basking in the sunlight of the present. The sunlight overpowers, but once the sky darkens, you will realise how cold it is. Perhaps youth is the realization that growing up is the worst thing that could ever happen to you.

Youth is like a butterfly; it sits so beautifully in your palm, and you don't realise how amazing it was until it flies, leaving you. Leaving you, and the feeling of it sitting on your skin is all you can remember. You'll always crave that feeling.

by Anastasija Stradniece

Dear Thomas

                                                          7^th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,

 

I know it’s been a while since I've written to you, but I think I'm ready to talk about everything you said to me. The other night was just so weird for me to process at that moment, I've kind of been stuck and I'm not too sure how to address everything over a stupid letter. 

 

I think we need to talk this through properly- in person. It's just hard to imagine things changing between us and I don’t want you to misinterpret anything I write to you. 

 

I shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

 

If you would like to, please meet me in Hyde Park tomorrow, before your appointment so we can just get things straight.  

 

I really miss talking to you, Tom.  

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x 

 

                                                                                                                 9th May 1954

Dear Thomas, 

 

I'm so sorry for upsetting you. 

 

I'm not really sure why you didn’t come yesterday but if you are still upset about everything, I totally understand.  

 

Maybe I just didn’t see you, or you woke up late and had to rush to your doctor's appointment, but I just wanted to know if you need more time to think about things. 

 

I'm not mad at you at all. I understand that I wanted to distance myself for a while so you have no obligation to just meet me now that I’m ready. I should've accounted for your feelings when I make that decision, but I was being selfish and stupid. I'm afraid my mistake may have cost me our friendship. 

 

I think I'm just overthinking as usual. 

 

If you have the time, can you please reply just saying where we stand at the moment? I know I'm in no position to ask that, but I just need clarity for the time being.  

 

I hope your appointment went well!  

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x 

 

                                                                                                                 11^th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I know these letters are probably getting really annoying and I should probably just take the hint that you don’t want to talk, but I keep thinking about everything.  

 

I know I hurt you the other night, but I genuinely wasn’t thinking right. I feel like an idiot for even suggesting time apart because, in all honesty, you're the only person who ever makes me feel like myself. Tom, you're my best friend above all and I will always feel the need to look out for you, but I feel like you want me out of your life for good.  

 

Maybe you think it's for the best, which I can't blame you for, but I'm just so confused at the moment because that night you said it was fine and that you didn’t hate me for wanting space, so I don’t understand what's happened in the few days that we haven't spoken.  

 

I don’t want to be a burden, which is why you need to tell me to leave you alone so I stop clogging up your porch with these dumb letters. If you don’t want to talk to me directly, please just get Charlie to tell me.  

 

I know what I did was wrong but you're not completely innocent either. Please don’t keep me in the dark after being friends for 11 years. 

 

I'm going to talk to Charlie tomorrow and see if he’s heard anything from you. 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x

                                                                                                                 13^th May 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

I went to see Charlie yesterday and he told me that you haven't even mentioned what happened between us to him. I don’t know how to interpret that if I'm honest, but I'm assuming you just didn't want to talk about it to anyone. I tried to be as brief with him as possible because I don’t want to embarrass you. I feel like that’s something you should tell your brother on your own. I don’t want to overstep. 

 

I know it's not my business anymore considering you don’t want to talk to me but, why didn’t you go to your appointment? It couldn’t have been that bad and you know your doctor likes you to keep him in the loop with your progress, it seems unfair to do that when your family is so worried about you.  

 

I think you should go and visit them; your mum seems worried and I think Charlie wants you to meet his girlfriend. She seems sweet, very shy, but still sweet.  

 

If I'm being honest, Tom, I'm starting to worry too. I feel like it's gone on long enough with the silent treatment and I keep blaming myself for it all. I understand I hurt you but you also can't expect me to react normal after such a bombshell.  

 

I don’t think I deserve to be ignored for needing time to figure things out.  

 

Please reply soon. 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x 

 

 

                                                                                                                                           24^th May 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

It's been a while since I last wrote. I was going to leave our (very much one-sided) conversation at my last letter but Charlie came to see me this morning.  

 

He said that you told him everything that happened and were going away for the week to get some space. I think that’s a good idea for you to just take a break from London, but it's not safe to go that far away from your doctor alone, can you not take Charlie with you? I'm sure he would love to go to the beach for a week after just passing his exams. 

 

At the end of the day though, you are an adult now and can make your own choices, and I'm sure you have considered your treatment for the week while away. I'm just being paranoid.  

 

Anyway, I think I needed that clarity from Charlie to know that you're okay. He said you saw the letters but didn't want to give me the wrong impression? I don’t really understand what you meant but I suppose you will elaborate on that after you get back. Until then, I don't think I'll write to you, considering you won't see it, but I'm just happy to know you're okay.  

 

Please write to me when you get home so we can arrange to meet up! 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x

                                                                                                                                              2^nd June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

It's been few days after you should've come home and I've still heard nothing from you? Are you busy settling back in? It's only been a week so I'm not too sure how to take the lack of letters. 

 

I've been so excited to talk to you because I thought you’d be replying to me now that you’ve had your break. You probably just haven't got around to writing a stupid letter but I hope this one serves as a little reminder that I'm still here.  

 

I hope your holiday went well! 

 

Love,  

Vienna.  x

                                                                                                                    10^th June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

It's been weeks.  

 

I'm getting really fed up of sending you these stupid letters and getting nothing back from you. 

I know I hurt you, but this silent treatment feels so stupid. It hurts not getting any form of response and I'm sick of it. I feel like you’ve completely pushed me to the side and left me in the dark about this whole situation. 

 

I'm sorry, Tom. I really am, but I don’t see how you can tell me you're in love with me and then suddenly drop me off like I'm nothing to you. You’re making me feel like a burden and, after 11 years of friendship, I feel like I at least deserve a simple letter telling me you don’t want us to talk anymore. 

 

I've been so patient with you for so long. 

 

I don’t think you're looking at things from my stand point. You tell me you’ve been in love with me for years and that you don’t think you can bare me not knowing how you feel, then expect me to react normally to that?  

 

I've known you since I was 8 and, to me, it seems like our whole friendship was a lie. I feel like you were just friends with me because you fancied me, and as soon as I tell you I need to think about everything you said, you drop me and leave me in the dark for just over a month? It seems like you’ve just dropped me because you thought u didn’t have a chance with me.  

 

I'm done sending you letters, Tom. If you want to reply, you can, but don’t expect a response unless it's you asking to meet in person. I'm sick of feeling like a pest and sick of getting no sleep over you.  

 

I really hope you didn’t intend for me to feel like this, you will always be my friend but I need you to stop treating me as though I'm insignificant. 

 

I'm not begging anymore. 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x

                                                                                                                    23^rd June 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

Charlie told me you aren't coming home. Apparently, you never planned to.

  

I'm assuming you never read my last few letters either, which makes me feel more of an idiot now than I did before considering I'm writing a letter that you're not going to read.  

 

You know something really frustrating, Tom? You also lied to Charlie about not going to your doctor's appointment. He called the doctors and, considering you're an adult, they couldn’t even tell him what the doctor told you.  

 

He came to me crying, Tom. He doesn’t know what's going on with you and he’s blaming himself. He’s only young and he’s going through such a stressful time waiting on his exam results, now his Ill brother is refusing to come home.  

 

If you told him what the doctor said, I'm sure the reaction wouldn’t be bad, even though I wouldn’t know since you haven't even bothered to tell me you're not coming home, let alone about your appointment. 

 

I just want you to come home. We haven't spoken at all since you told me you loved me and I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall. Or nothing at all for that matter. I wish you would've just met up with me from the start and maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened. Is it my fault you're not coming home? Are you not coming home ever or just for a while?  

 

I won't get an answer and I'm okay with that, but I think the reason I'm even writing this is to show myself that I can stop thinking about you properly. Or maybe it's just because, even though I said I could, I don’t think I can stop ‘talking to you’. 

 

If I was sure that you were reading this, I would tell you that you're stupid and I miss you. But since you aren't, I think I'll just keep imagining that you are. 

 

Love, 

Vienna.  x

 

                                                                                                                 25^th June 1954 

Dear Thomas, 

 

Doctor Brown called your mum today on an emergency check. Why didn’t you tell us it was terminal? 

 

He called your mum and Charlie yesterday on an emergency call. He told them he thought you were vulnerable if they didn't get in contact soon. He thinks you're going to end it yourself, before the cancer does. 

 

I don’t think you understand how hard this has been to process. Charlie was the one who has to break the news to me and he was inconsolable. He must've cried for hours and practically begged for me to let him stay here for a while because he can't bear to go home right now.  

 

I've just managed to get him to go to sleep on the setee and I'm now sat in my room trying to force out tears. I need to cry but I just can't. I've tried everything, I'm so frustrated with this whole thing. 

 

I have no idea whether I'm going to talk to you again or if we are ever going to sort this.  

 

For God’s sake, Tom, come home and sort this out. Stop being so irrational and actually grasp how much you are hurting people. You are being so selfish for no reason. You’ve got me writing pathetic letters that no one's going to read because I can't even think about not talking to you.  

 

I need you to come home. I need to talk to you about this. We can find a solution, Tom. I have no doubt about it, but if you don’t come home ill have no way of fixing anything. 

 

I feel helpless and I hate it. 

 

Please, don’t do anything stupid.  

Love, 

Vienna.  x

 

 

 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I'm so stuck, Tom. I'm so stuck.  

 

I can't sleep. Please come home. 

 

I'm sorry for everything I said.  

 

I wish you were reading this. 

 

 

 

Dear Thomas, 

 

Why am I even writing this?  

 

I keep trying to stop but I'm so worried and I don’t know what to do.  

 

Charlie moved back home today. I'm alone, Tom.  

 

I'm blaming myself and I need you to come home. 

 

I don’t know what you're planning but whatever it is, please don’t do it. 

 

I'm scared you're leaving me like this.  

 

I don’t want you to. 

 

 

 

 

Dear Thomas,  

 

I'm tired, Tom. You need help. 

 

Please don’t do this.

 

                                                                                                                                                             18^th July 1954 

Dear Vienna, 

 

I know you only heard the news yesterday but I think we need to go to Tom’s flat.  

 

My mum doesn’t want to go with me so I thought you would.  

 

I don’t want to go on my own. 

 

From, 

Charlie. 

 

                                                                                                                                                                          20^th July 1954

Dear Tom, 

 

I found the letter you left in your flat. I'm not really sure why you never gave it to her but I suppose you had your reasons.  

 

I don’t even know why I'm writing this but, since Vienna does it, I thought it might help me try to understand why you did what you did.  

 

The police came round a few days ago and told us what happened. I guess Dr Brown was wrong, you didn’t kill yourself, you just gave up. Cancer sucks, Tom, that’s why I'm not mad at you. Being mad wouldn’t solve anything, it wouldn’t bring you back.  

 

Maybe if you stayed at home, this whole thing would've been easier to deal with, but didn’t even get to say goodbye to you properly. We could've spent so much time together before anything happened, we could've stayed up late like we did when we were kids and talked all night. There's so much I want to talk to you about. 

 

I feel like I've got this sort of responsibility to take your place in everyone's lives, which is why I've been spending so much time with Vienna. Don’t get me wrong, she's been a great with this whole thing but I can see her getting worse. Shes spiralling and I'm trying so hard to fill in for you but im not ready. 

 

Going to your flat yesterday was really hard. I saw all the pictures of us that you kept up and I took the ones I liked. The ones I didn’t, I (reluctantly) gave to mum to keep. She thought they were funny. 

 

 I found the letter on the kitchen table before Vienna did, she was too busy trying to figure out where you kept the old toys you shared. She said something about the old spinning tops that you both painted and that she let you keep them. I think she managed to find them in the end. 

 

Leaving a letter was thoughtful of you. You must've really loved her, I'm just sorry that you both didn’t get the happy ending that you wanted because I always thought you two would end up together, mum did too. If I'm honest, I was quite upset that you didn’t write me anything but I can understand why you didn’t. People get busy and I know you always had something going on.  

 

There are so many things I have to update you on, like Mia. Shes my girlfriend and she's been the most stable form of support I've had through all of this, apart from Vienna, but I suppose you

couldn’t really call her stable at the moment. 

 

I feel like you're going to miss so much of my life that I wanted to share with you. I keep thinking of when you said you were going to go suit shopping with me for my prom. I was really looking forward to it, but it's okay, I'm going to wear your old one, if that’s okay? 

Hopefully, in the next life, we will get a chance to grow up the way we should've.  

 

I'm so sorry that I couldn’t be there, Tom. I just hope you're not in pain anymore. 

 

I love you so much. I miss you every day. 

 

Love from,  

 

Charlie. 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                         24^th May 1954

Dear Vienna, 

 

I think you deserve some sort of explanation for everything. 

 

I don’t know where to start. 

 

The night that I told you how I felt, I kind of knew that was it for me. The weeks prior I felt myself grow weaker and I knew my time was running short. I didn't need a doctor to tell me that. Yes, I know he’s the professional, but, for once, I think I needed to make my own mind up about my future. 

 

Maybe telling you my reasoning would make you understand me better but, I don’t entirely know it myself. I didn’t want to waste away in this flat, with my mum and brother who I would have to comfort. I know its selfish, but I don’t think I'm capable of helping anyone else when my skin is thinning out. 

 

Maybe I'm being dramatic, but I genuinely think my bones are being shaven down. I wouldn’t say I'm scared, I just don’t want to go out like this. Of course, it's hard to deal with, but I'm doing well. As well as I can be. 

 

I don’t want you to think that I'm ignoring you. I mean, I am. But I'm not doing it to be nasty. 

I got your letter today asking me to take Charlie on my ‘trip’ and asking to meet up. I was planning on replying but I don’t want to give you any false hope about me coming home. There's so much I wish I could tell you right now but it all seems so hard to comprehend myself, let alone someone who isn't in my position.  

 

You’re right, you don’t deserve to be ignored. You don’t deserve any of this, Vi. You deserve to be with someone who will be around for you. Not a sick kid who can't even be brave enough to say goodbye.  

 

I wish I could've been him.  

 

I knew that if I did get a chance to speak to you, you'd talk me out of it, which is why I love you. Even since we were little, you were the only one who I could see myself growing old with. I wish we had more time. I wish I had more time to speak to Charlie. I wish I had time to say goodbye to my mum. I wish my illness didn’t have to result in Charlie having to become the man of the house. 

 

I have so many regrets, Vi. But I'm afraid that not saying goodbye to you will be my biggest one.

  

Everything is so confusing at the movement; I don’t know what's going on but it’ll be okay. I promise. 

 

I love you,

 

Tom. x 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                          23^rd July 1954 

Dear Thomas,  

 

Charlie gave me your letter yesterday.  

 

I wasn’t going to write back or anything but Charlie told me it might help me in the long run.  

Honestly, I'm not too sure what to say. Everything has happened so fast. I don’t know how to feel. 

I hate feeling this conflicted. I can't tell if I'm frustrated in you or myself. I can't tell if the frustration is justified but I can't help but feel it.  

 

This whole thing could've been avoided if you just spoke to me. Why didn’t you speak to me? I know you explained your reasoning for everything but there's still so much we haven't said. 

 

Our spinning tops were in perfect condition when I found them. They were in a box at the back of your wardrobe. I'm glad you kept them. Our names were still painted on them but they had slightly chipped, though I'm sure you knew that already. I also found some of my old shirts you kept in case of emergency. I didn’t have the heart to take them back. It's not like id wear them again anyway.  

 

I haven't slept since Charlie told me what you did. I keep thinking about everything would say if I were given the opportunity. I'd tell you that you were stupid and that I miss you every day. I'd tell you that I love you back and just struggled to figure that out at first. 

 

It's always been you, Tom. When you told me how you felt, I just couldn’t comprehend how much things were going to change. But when we stopped talking, it made me realise how much I do love you and now I'll never get the chance to say it.  

 

I'm so lost. I don’t want this to be how I remember you.  

 

I wish it could've been you too. I wish we could've grown old together and that you didn’t get ill.  what you don’t realise is that it's always been you and it always will be. I wish I could've spoken to you properly about this but it's too late for wishes. 

 

You’ll always be him, Tom. 

 

I love you. I'm not ready to say goodbye. Not over a letter. It's not fair. 

 

I miss you. 

 

Love always, 

 

Vienna.  x 

 

By Katie Barber