Every chapter is a new poem,every poems focus on a new thing,most of the poems have the same depressed sort of vibe but they really just focus on the problems of life from a teenagers point of view.

poetry is a beautiful thing.
this is a small compilation of short poems.
it's simple; unlike life.

A book of poems written from my perspective while I'm in highschool and my favorite thing to say when anyone asks how I even deal with it all is "I'm trying."

''Let's start with the basics,'' I say as they both look at me with confusion and curiosity/. We're currently in the dining area and they are seated across from me, notepads, textbooks, reading materials and pens are sprawled on the table along with their bookbags. ''Mrs Gomez said out test would be based on poetry right?''They nod in affirmation. ''Good. So far, we've discussed three poems: Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats, Crossing the Bar by Lord Tennyson and The Schoolboy by William Blake. What exactly do you need help in?
They both pause for a minute before Jason responds. ''Definitely, the Ode thing you just said.''
''Ode to a Nightingale.''
''Yea that.''
''And if you can briefly explain the others, it'll be highly appreciated.'' Ryan adds hesitantly in a bid to not test my patience. I smile a bit and he visibly relaxes. Jason avoids my gaze, looking at everything, from the tables, to the pictures on the wall to the fruit basket.
Is there something on my face?
''First thing's first,'' I start. ''In order to know about the poem we need to know about the poet himself. John Keats was a Romantic poet born in the 16th century and…''
''What's a Romantic poet?'' Ryan interjects. ''Do they like write poems about love and stuff?''
''Not quite. Romantic poets are those who wrote during the Romantic era. I don't want to go full on nerd on you, but the Romantic era was a cultural and intellectual movement that originated in Europe towards the end of the 18th century. That era was characterized by individualism and poetry of that era started to take on a more human form, not that poetry of the 18th century wasn't like that, but with the Romantic era, it was different. Emotions such as awe, horror and admiration were highlighted. Some poets focused their writing on eulogizing nature as seen in the works of William Wordsworth and P.B Shelley while others focused on the supernatural like Edgar Allen Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne.''
They both give me blank stares like I'm speaking in a foreign language and I sigh. ''And you don't know who they are.'' They nod wordlessly and I silently shake my head.
Worsworth, Hawthorne, Poe and Shelley may not be in our curriculum this year but Mrs Gomez did mention them when she was giving an introductory class on Romantic poetry. It peaked my interest so I ended up Googling poems written by these individuals and found them fascinating to say the least. To think that such words of wisdom came from humans just like me is really inspirational.
I can only aspire to be like these wonderful poets.
Mum comes around from the kitchen carrying a tray with mugs of hot chocolates. She settles it down in the middle of the table and we say a quick thank you to her and continue.
''They're not important,'' I say calmly. ''All you need to know is that they are Romantic poets and John Keats happens to be one of them.'' I check the time on my phone briefly. ''Okay, so do you have a printed copy of the poem?''
''Yea,'' Ryan says and stretches his right hand to get a rumpled piece of paper from the side of the bag. Jason brings out a folded paper from his manila file and settles it on the table. 
''Great. FYI, I started reading the analysis of the poem yesterday case it's been a while so I'm a little rusty.''
Jason gives me a sideway smile, his aqua blues firmly planted on mine. I give a sideway simile of my own, my hands gripping the paper in front of me. You know, it should be a crime for someone's son to actually look this good. Jason always gives off this I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-I-have-money-vibe which on anyone would have looked repulsive, but on him, it's making my stomach turn in a good way.
And again, that is very very bad.
Ryan coughs loudly and we both look away. I clear my throat loudly and he grabs a fountain pen. Ryan has a knowing look on his face and I know he had seen what had transpired between us but said nothing.
''Right,'' I say after a beat. ''Ode to a Nightingale is a regular ode with eight stanzas and a regular rhyme scheme. Basically, the poem explains how Keats is in a state of discomfort and he envies the imagined happiness of the nightingale. Keats longs for wine to numb his senses and take him out of his misery per se. He wants to be in the world of the nightingale because in his delusion, he thinks the nightingale is without troubles and worries which, when you think about it, makes sense because he says that his life is full of pain.'' 
They nod their heads and I continue. ''Add this to your fun facts about John Keats: He died of tuberculosis at the age of 25.''
''That's horrible,'' Ryan sympathizes, his face downcast. ''He never got to experience life fully.''
''Indeed. So you kinda see where he's coming from when he says he wants to be in the world of the nightingale. Thinking about it thoroughly, don't we all want to be in the world of the nightingale? I'd trade a world full of happiness and love for this dump of a world we're living in right now.''
And I put that on everything.
.........
I spent the better part of 2 hours explaining to Ryan and Jason the importance of the poem and why John Keats actually wrote the poem. We also discussed the various themes and the significance of the Nightingale in the poem. After the 'class' they seemed satisfied enough and even took notes down which caught me by surprise. I guess being on the basketball team is a huge deal to them.
Of course it's important to them, they're captain and co-captain.
Also, let's be real, their popularity cred would totally diminish and they'd be shamed all through school if they fail. While I do not want that to happen, it'd be funny to see the roles being reversed for once.
''You did good, sweetie,'' Mum says as she joins me on the dining table. Jason and Ryan had left a while before dinner with an external amount of gratitude to my mum. I didn't think Jason could be polite, but he was kissing my mum's ass a few hours ago. Of course, mum being who she is, invited them to come over at any time.
''I'm proud of you.''
''I'm proud of me too.'' I did a good deed today so that should score me some extra points in heaven, right?
''You put pettiness aside and helped out your school friends,'' I give her a pointed look and she corrects herself. ''I mean acquaintances.''
Better.
''I raised you well, Mel,'' she says with a satisfied smile and a look as if reminiscing about the past.
She really did raise Sophie and I well. I would never trade my mum for anything in the world. When my dad left and decided that being a parent is too much work, mum picked up the slack and made sure that we were taken care of didn't want for anything. Even if Sophie and I wanted something and she couldn't afford it at the moment, she'd make sure that she'll still get it, albeit at a later date. We may not be rich or have the luxuries of the world, but fuck those, I have my sister and my mum and that's enough for me to die a happy teenager.
I do not want to die at all, at least not now, but you get my point.
''That boy, the one with the chestnut hair?''
''Jason?''
''Yea, him. He looks very familiar. I can't put my finger on it but I feel like I have met him before,'' Mum says with a frown on her face. ''Maybe I've seen him at the mall or something but I know him from somewhere.''
''Maybe you remember him at the yearly parents-teachers conference?'' I suggest. She shrugs. ''Maybe.''
''When you're done, turn off all the electrical appliances and check if the doors are locked. I don't want another burglary incident,���' she mentions with a chill in her voice. Last year, our apartment was burglarized. They stole valuable family heirlooms, including all the jewellery that Grandma Maggie passed down to mum, money and a few trinkets that Grandpa Harry gave her on her wedding day. Long story short, it was a devastating day, we filed a police report and the culprits have not been caught.
Fuck the justice system.
''Sure.''
''Goodnight, Mel. Don't stay up late or you'd have a brain fart.''
I snort and she squeezes my shoulder. Making a left, I hear her footsteps trudging up the stairs until they were no longer audible.
A message pops up on my notifications. Unlocking my phone, I open it and see that it's from an unknown number.
Thanks for today. J.B.
I beam a little and close the phone, taking in the days ' events in one breath.
What a day!


Adelaide Montessori Prep, school for the children of the rich and upper-class members of the social ladder.

So what is Melody Jones doing in a school like that? One word: Scholarship.
.........................

Meet Melody:

Melody is not a damsel in distress. She's witty, sassy, and badass, but one person just seems to irk her every time: Jason Blunt.

Meet Jason:

Son of a famous model and hot shot lawyer, Jason is living the high life: luxury vacations, private jets and designer everything. He seems to have it all but he just can't seem to stand one person: Melody Jones.

But they both have secrets, and once they get woven into each other's web, it will change their perceptions about each other forever.

Like they always say: There's always a fine line between love and hate.


NOTE:
Unless stated otherwise, this book would be told from the female lead's (Melody) perspective.

It is likely that the traditional use of narcissi for the treatment of cancer was due to the presence of isocarbostyril constituents such as narciclasine, pancratistatin and their congeners.

Acetylcholine esterase inhibition has attracted the most interest as a possible therapeutic intervention, with activity varying by a thousandfold between species, and the greatest activity seen in those that contain galantamine or epinorgalanthamine.

The rodent repellant properties of Narcissus alkaloids have been utilised in horticulture to protect more vulnerable bulbs.

In the West, the narcissus is perceived as a symbol of vanity, in the East as a symbol of wealth and good fortune, while in Persian literature, the narcissus is a symbol of beautiful eyes.

Western Culture
In western culture, the daffodil is also associated with spring festivals such as Lent and its successor Easter. In Germany, the wild narcissus, N. pseudonarcissus, is known as the Osterglocke or "Easter bell." In the United Kingdom, the daffodil is sometimes referred to as the Lenten lily.

Although prized as an ornamental flower, some people consider narcissi unlucky, because they hang their heads implying misfortune. White narcissi, such as N triandrus "Thalia", are especially associated with death and have been called grave flowers. In Ancient Greece, narcissi were planted near tombs, and Robert Herrick describes them as portents of death, an association which also appears in the myth of Persephone and the underworld. 

.The poet Ovid also dealt with the mythology of the narcissus. In his Metamorphoses, he recounts the story of the youth Narcissus who, after his death, is turned into the flower, and it is also mentioned in Book 5 of his poem Fasti. This theme of metamorphosis was broader than just Narcissus; for instance see crocus, laurel, and hyacinth

"The poem I will recite now about myself, you must all have read in your English class. It was written by William Wordsworth."

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: –
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed – and gazed – but little thought
What wealth the shew to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.

Although there is no clear evidence that the flower's name derives directly from the Greek myth, this link between the flower and the myth became firmly part of western culture. The narcissus or daffodil is the most loved of all English plants and appears frequently in English literature. Many English writers have referred to the cultural and symbolic importance of Narcissus. No flower has received more poetic description except the rose and the lily, with poems by authors from John Gower, Shakespeare, Milton, Wordsworth, Shelley, and Keats. Frequently the poems deal with self-love derived from Ovid's account. Gower's reference to the yellow flower of the legend has been assumed to be the daffodil or Narcissus, 

Shakespeare frequently uses flower imagery, refers to daffodils twice in The Winter's Tale and also The Two Noble Kinsmen. Robert Herrick alludes to their association with death in a number of poems. Among the English romantic movement writers, none is better known than William Wordsworth's short 1804 poem I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud which has become linked in the popular mind with the daffodils that form its main image. Wordsworth also included the daffodil in other poems. Keats refers to daffodils among those things capable of bringing "joy forever".

In the visual arts, narcissi are depicted in three different contexts, mythological (Narcissus, Persephone), floral art, or landscapes. 

Eastern cultures
In Chinese culture Narcissus tazetta subsp. chinensis (Chinese sacred lilies), which can be grown indoors, is widely used as an ornamental plant. It was probably introduced to China by Arab traders traveling the Silk Road prior to the Song Dynasty for medicinal use. Spring-flowering, they became associated with Chinese New Year, signifying good fortune.

In India, the daffodil is commonly known as Nargis or Yemberzal (in Kashmiri). The importance of this flower for the Kashmiri people and other mountain regions is that it declares the arrival of Spring after the long harsh months of Winter. This white petalled beauty is also considered a symbol of good health and prosperity. A popular Kashmiri folk song, derived from the first-ever Kashmiri opera performed- Bombur ta Yemberzal, is illustrative of the love story of the Narcissus (Yemberzal) and the Bumble Bee (Bombur)

Festivals
In some areas where narcissi are prevalent, their blooming in spring is celebrated in festivals. 

Commercial uses
Throughout history the scent of narcissi has been an important ingredient of perfumes, a quality that comes from essential oils rather than alkaloids. Narcissi are also an important horticultural crop and source of cut flowers (floriculture).The Netherlands, which is the most important source of flower bulbs worldwide is also a major centre of narcissus production.

The largest Daffodil plant waving its flowery head and said that this was all that he could say. 
If more information, is needed then the children can go home and search the internet to get a lot of information or they can go to a horticulture expert who will tell them a lot of things.

The daffodil then said that it would be getting to be evening soon and as soon as the sun goes down and they switch over to sleeping/resting/ respiratory mode. Hence, they cannot answer any questions. Tomorrow, when the sun comes then the plants, trees animals, birds, etc. will be in a position to answer your questions.

The Daffodil asked if there were any other questions. We did not have any was the reply given by Chris.

Our 4 flying cars had parked on the grass and when the drivers saw that we were ready to leave,  the cars glided towards us hovering a few inches above the grass. Zen again wondered what sort of fuel was being used by the flying cars, it must be environment-friendly, as the cars did not seem to emit any smoke. They bid thanks and bye to the grass, the lake and the Daffodils saying they will come again tomorrow to get information about the birds, frogs, fish, trees, squirrels, butterflies, etc.

What would happen if you got stuck in Time?

Zia has completed her Ph.D. in Botany and has applied for the post of lecturer/ Professor. She joins a High school as a temporary teacher and is entrusted with the task of leading a group of students on a trekking /camping expedition. 

On the way they meet a guy who seems to be a trouble maker but later, he proves to be a pillar of strength. Early morning their camp is attacked and they flee taking a different route. But they are lost.

They enter a world where people are living, in hiding, for over 250 years. Their technology is much advanced as compared to ours. Their world was initially a Utopia but now it is changing due to an oppressive ruler.

They are trapped in the time of this hidden world and want to help the people there fight against the oppressive ruler and his cronies. The oppressive ruler wants to make a number of Time Machines by using the brains of the scientists who had died in harness at the site of the experiments. 

They all decide to help the good citizens of the lost world. The huge brains are destroyed and the Orbs of the scientists escape to help the rest in their mission. 

In the process, the crystals that are used in the hypnotizing guns are almost finished and to get more they split up to go to the 'Magical World' through a curtain which is a portal. The Magical World is a flat  man made Earth-like satellite, which was made as a joke to taunt the scientists 7000 years ago, and which is still operational. Here they meet the inhabitants.  They are fascinated with the advancement of science especially the talking chips and the flying cars.They see a completely different world where animals, plants, rocks, water etc can talk. Before you touch anything you need to seek permission.

They also meet the Aliens called the 'Crocodile Race' who have come to the Magical World (the flat satellite) to get supplies. They see spaceships being guided to land by the scientists of the Magical World.

At present they are narrating to the Aliens, what they have undergone till date. 

Read on to experience their adventures, their fears, and their courage, to deal with various situations and how, after meandering through various secret passageways, encountering adventures, they finally come back to their time.
****************************
Trying to post a chapter in a week now.

Dariya wanted to make references and take note on the Avante garde movements and new styles of art that emerged. 'Isn't Avante Garde and modernism almost similar at the similar period' she wondered. She searched half the library for Avante grade and she couldn't get one. she ended up in the section of romanticism and neo-classism, two opposite ends put together in one place. She saw the collection of John Keats, Byron, Shelly, Wordsworth, and others. She ran her fingers through very old and binded works and took Keats's work. She went through the preface and noted two poems. 'Lamia' and 'Isabella'. Lamia was too long and extended over 35 pages compared to Isabella. 'But already know them,' she told herself reading halfway through 'Isabella'. Someone kept the hands on the shelf from behind Dariya standing only an inch from her taking the book from the top rack of the shelf. For a moment Dariya got scared, but as she got the scent of the cologne, she knew it was Lu Han. She closed her eyes and turned to him "Are we shooting a rom-com movie here?" she asked seeing the way they both were standing.
"Why? Are you being swayed standing close to me?"
"I feel least tempted enough to do something." She snapped back.
He was smiling moving bit closer to her. She took a step back and stood against the bookshelf. She looked around to see if there was someone. But there was none for her relief. "Then why are you avoiding to look at my eyes.?" He questioned him. But she did have some kind of difficulty to face him. She looked into his eyes. He looked serious. She couldn't think of anything else but pinch his cheeks to stop him. "I told you to not cross the line." He twisted in pain trying to escape the hold. "Stop stop stop. I won't," he begged. She released and started to walk away but he held her hands and pulled her back. She didn't expect that and lost her balance. Holding her, he took the Keats' collection from her "Why were you reading this?" he questioned her. "Brandon asked me to." She stopped in the middle, feeling foolish to have spilled the secret. Lu Han waited for her to complete understanding something is wrong. "Brandon?" He raised his brow and stood demanding to know more.
Dariya closed her eyes and exhaled. "Brandon is a guy I know in college." She began to tell the story that happened between the two. "He was okay until he came with me but then he changed. He was like he wouldn't be able to handle me and like it can reach nowhere and stuffs and handed me these poems. He talked weird in the end. Then I walked away." She stopped there purposefully hiding the next thing that she asked him. She didn't wish to share those stolen questions and what she felt with Lu Han the thoughts that occurred to her that time. They walked and reached near the books Dariya was really searching for. She took the Modernism for reference and went to the counter to take them. He listened to the whole story and remained silent. That got Dariya tensed not getting any of his responses. "Hungry?" he asked. "Are you?" she asked him back. "I'm Starving. Feed me. please." He made a tactical move. If not she would have declined to go with him to eat. But instead, now she has agreed to buy him food. "Come." She said as they walked out. They went into McDonald's and ordered a meal each and she ordered for extra fries as usual. 'Still the same.' He thought watching her, looking out to the road as they sat waiting for food. "You didn't ask me how I actually was for the past five years." He spoke softly. She turned to look at him. "You didn't tell me when I asked you what you did too except your work." She replied back and the food came on time. They stopped the conversation and concentrated only on eating.

Dariya has always been a survivor. She was caged, and missed her only friend terribly since he left home. But it took a lot of pain and mental suffering for her to become who she is. 
Lu Han left home to pursue his dreams when he found out his strong feelings for his best friend and got turned down. But years later he chose to come back but Dariya still hesitated and got upset with him. 

To know what happens between Dariya and Lu Han, read the Novella.

I'm an idiot and not just because I mixed up my words and made a comment that offended her friend but I really shouldn't have said anything in the first place. Even if Sam turned out to be a woman and not Libby's husband, she's still married AND pregnant with another man's child. But I just sort of got mad when Eli told me her husband is working abroad. I mean who even leaves their pregnant wife in another country? That's not right. Someone like that doesn't even deserve someone as great as Libby. She deserves someone to tell her she looks good and that she's pretty because she is. And I wanted to be that someone but instead I made myself look like a fool.
    Luckily Libby didn't take the compliment badly but having Sam pissed off is bad enough. I can't even pass by her with a box without her "bumping" into me, it's like she's trying to shove me away without making it seem too obvious but it is. I know she's just being protective of her friend but neither am I someone that needs to be protected from and neither is Libby someone that can't make her own judgments. In all honesty if I had a friend like Sam, I would have most likely ditched her. She's got the worst attitude I've ever seen on someone, a complete contrast of Libby. It sort of makes me wonder how the two became friends.
    "You're worse than Eli." "You're a wolf in sheep's clothing." At first I thought I was hearing things as Sam basically mumbled those things to herself but it was clear enough it was me she was talking about, unless she knows the guy with the moving truck but I really doubt it. She doesn't look like a very sociable person. How is she even a doctor with her attitude? Heck, I would be scared to be her patient. She's got this look on her eyes that say she'll kill you if only you cross her.
    "That's everything, isn't it?" Sam peeks inside the empty apartment.
    "No, there's still one thing you guys left behind." Libby who was the only one that didn't carry anything out, starts to jump in the middle of the living room. "Meee! You guys forgot me!" She looks from Sam to me and the truck driver but returns her gaze at me. "You're probably the strongest one here, how about you carry me down?"
    I look at the truck driver, a tall, almost skeletal skinny guy in his 20's. I'm surprised he was even able to help carry some of the heavy stuff. Still, the guy is probably not someone you would trust to carry you. He seriously looks like he'll either break at any moment or the wind will carry him away.
    "Must you seriously do this right now, Libby?" Sam rolls her eyes.
    "But it's a Vargas tradition." Libby places her hands on her hips and pouts. "The strongest one always carries the weakest out, the weakest being me and the strongest being Cain." She points at herself and then at me. "Back in New York it was my dad that would carry me but once Ollie got older, it was him. Doing this is supposed to bring good luck to those that are moving, don't you want good luck, Sam?"
    "I think your family just made that up to make moving fun for you, you know cuz you hate to move. Besides, aren't you a little too old to be carried?"
    I may have never heard of such tradition but I have to admit it sounds fun. The excitement in Libby's voice as she talked about it and then the frown that appeared on her face as soon as Sam said her family made it up, only makes me want to do it more. "So how should I carry you? Bridal style or piggyback?"
    "Well it was usually bridal style but I'm wearing a dress right now so maybe piggyback?"
    She probably doesn't realize a piggyback would be worse as she'll have to spread her legs and wrap them around me, then there's the fact it'll probably be a bit more intimate than a simple carrying in the arms. "Well if carrying bridal style was the tradition then let's keep that tradition." I grab the long white coat Sam had thrown at Libby earlier. "Here, how about draping this over your legs?"
    "Great idea! Thanks!" Libby smiles and I bend down to pick her up, all the while being careful as to where I touch her.
    After carrying her all the way down, we drive to the new apartment. All three of us in my Hyundai Ioniq, Libby in the front with me and Sam in the back. I was surprised she didn't insist on Libby sitting with her but perhaps that was so she could watch us from behind, which is totally fine with me. It's not like I would put the moves on a married woman. Instead, I'm happy just conversing with her.
    We hadn't gotten a chance to talk about movies as the guy with the moving truck had arrived but this time I answer her question about what my favorite movie is, Dirty Dancing. She asks me why and I tell her because I love dancing and it's a dancing movie. I also tell her about my favorite movies being from the 80's: The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Back to the Future, Gremlins, The Karate Kid, The Terminator, The Shining, Scarface and Die Hard. She then tells me they're all great but that she prefers movies from the 60's like: West Side Story, The Sound of Music, Bonnie and Clyde, To Kill a Mockingbird, Psycho, Cool Hand Luke, The Graduate and Night of The Living Dead. Half of the ones she mentioned I hadn't watched so she asked if I ever wanted to watch them with her and I replied with a sure because what else do I have to do? Spending any time with Libby is probably as good as it's going to get.
    "So I'm assuming you don't have Netflix?" I ask Libby as she's just told me about her huge DVD collection.
    "Nah. Netflix mostly has their own stuff and I prefer the movies that come out in theaters, it's what I call REAL movies."
    "So then what do you watch?" She has all of her DVD's in New York so if she doesn't have Netflix, it makes me wonder what she watches.
    "Either dramas on TV or I go to the movie theater."
    "Ugh. Dramas. It's pretty much all I've been doing recently. I've been finishing entire dramas in a day and now the only ones I have left to watch are the ones that are currently airing. Are there any movies in theaters you recommend?"
    Even if I don't really feel like going out, it's something Ollie said I should do. He said the only way to keep my suicidal thoughts at bay is to keep myself distracted and that watching dramas at home doesn't count because I actually have to get out. I figured a dark place where everyone has their eyes fixed on a screen would be better than walking around in public where I'm still occasionally recognized and approached. Not even wearing masks and sunglasses has helped. I thought this would all end once the group disbanded but it seems there are still a few that are curious as to how my life is now. If only they knew what it's really been like, they would probably be scared.
    "Well there hasn't been any really good ones recently but there is one that's coming out by the end of the month that looks promising. It's a thriller and I was going to watch it but how about we go together?"
    "I was going to watch that movie with you, Libby. I already told you I was." It's the first thing Sam has said in a while and yet somehow she still seems bothered by me. Almost as if my presence alone would ruin one of her outings with her friend. It almost makes me want to say yes to Libby just to spite her but I'm not that petty.
    "I wouldn't want to intrude on your girl's night so how about just telling me the name of the movie and I'll watch it with Eli instead?"
    "Or better yet, let's go as a foursome! The more, the merrier, don't you think?" There's this gleam in Libby's eyes, the one that always makes it hard to say no to her. It really can make any man weak and I'm no exception.
    Screw it, at least I won't be the only one being given the death stare by Sam. "You're right. Hanging out in groups is always the best. We can probably even stop by Abel's restaurant and have some lunch or dinner." I haven't been there in a while even though I like their food. I'm always afraid of running into Abby. Going with others should however at least keep me somewhat distracted from seeing the life I could have shared with someone else.
    "Thanks for saying yes to the movie." Libby leans in to whisper as we're going up the stairs of the new apartment. "I actually want to set Sam up with Eli, would you help me?"
    Saying no to her is something I don't think I can do so I nod to her request. Why she would actually think Sam and Eli would like each other is beyond me though.
    The apartment ends up being a huge upgrade to the old one. Not only is it bigger, newer and in a nicer area but it has things the other one didn't like an in unit washer and dryer combo, a bathtub, an electric fireplace and maid service. Not to mention the building has a gym and pool. Also, working elevators! We however took the stairs as Libby felt like exercising. Apparently she felt cramped in the car. She was holding a box in her lap the whole time so I don't blame her. It was the only box she didn't want to put in the moving truck as she said it held her most valuable things. I doubt she meant valuable as in monetary though. It's more than clear she's someone that values the sentimental things more and that's something I like about her because not everyone is like that.
    "Think we should try the elevators this second time around?" Sam grabs Libby by the shoulder as we're down the five flights of stairs. She looks more tired than Libby but that's probably because she was carrying heavier stuff both at the old apartment and here.
    "Sure, if it will make things easier on you guys." Libby goes on ahead and just as I'm about to follow after her, I feel a pull from behind.
    "Either you walk ahead of her, by her side, or wait until she's out of sight but NEVER right behind her."
    "Why?" I turn back to look at Sam. This is probably the oddest thing anyone has ever told me.
    "Don't act dumb. Guys always check out girls from behind and she's wearing a dress. I'm sure those stupid animalistic instincts of yours won't be able to resist looking down there."
    "You act as if I'm going to pounce on her and eat her alive. Don't you think you're exaggerating even a bit?" I squint my eyes at her and watch as her hands turn into fists. But instead of punching me or saying something in return, she simply storms out.
    "Don't worry! I'll wait until you're out of sight before I start to walk again!" I yell out.
    And just like that, I begin to walk beside Libby for the rest of the morning.

✧ ✦ ✧

    I'm in the kitchen with Libby. While she's looking for food to make, I'm unpacking the dishes. Sam went to pick up the kids from school and Libby wants to have food ready for them before they arrive although I don't think that will happen unless she makes something like grilled cheese sandwiches. Their school is much closer than it was from their old apartment, at a walking distance even. For this reason it would be better to get take-out but Libby rejected my offer to go out and buy food. "It's better if I cook myself, that way I'll get to measure everything and know exactly what I'm eating", were her exact words. She told me the only places she ever really has lunch from is either Subway or the restaurant Abby's parents own (because they know just the way she likes her food). She said she would go to Abel's restaurant but that it's a bit further out.
    "We have everything needed to make turkey tacos but not enough time to make them." Libby scratches the back of her head as she looks at the ingredients that are on the counter in front of her. "What do you think I should make?"
    "Do you have bread? Sandwiches are always quick and easy to make." It's also the only thing I can make without messing up.
    "Yea, I guess I could make them mozzarella cheese sandwiches."
    She walks to a stack of boxes and tries to reach a loaf of bread that's on top but it's too high for her and the boxes start to wobble. Before I know it, I'm right behind her. I've pulled her away just in time as a second later the boxes tumble down.
    "Woah. I would have been squashed like a bug, luckily the bread wasn't." She bends down and grabs the loaf that's now on the floor. "Thanks for saving me. Now I just hope none of those boxes contain things that are breakable."
    "Want me to open them and check while you make the sandwiches?" I ask.
    "Sure." Libby shrugs and goes back to the kitchen.
    Opening the first box (the one where the loaf of bread was) all there is are napkins, foam plates and plastic utensils, the second box has clean towels, the third box has pregnancy books, the fourth box has cooking books and the last box has poetry books. So apart from movies, I guess she collects books too. It makes sense why she would have pregnancy and cooking books as she's pregnant and likes to cook but poetry? It makes me wonder if she's a poet.
    One of the poetry books in particular catches my attention, The Love Poems of John Keats: In Praise of Beauty. It's in English but as I recently went to the library (as a part of my attempts to go out), I checked out a poetry book and read some of John Keats poems.
    "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter;" Libby peers from behind me. "therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:" Her hot breath tickles the back of my neck. "fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss, though winning near the goal--yet, do not grieve, she cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, for ever wilt thou love, and she be fair."
    I don't even have the book open on that poem so it means she knows it by memory. Ode on a Grecian Urn, it's the poem that made me reflect on life. Knowing John Keats was terminally ill when he wrote it and that he knew he was going to die made it that much sadder.
    There are many interpretations of the poem but my take on it was that John Keats was envious of the Grecian urn or at least of what was painted on it. This man was in love but didn't have the luxury of time to love as he was terminally ill and died at the age of 25. But the urn, it was frozen in time and so were the lovers and everything else painted on it. The melody that was being played would also never end. But there is a melancholy to it as well because just as the lovers would always exist, they would also be stuck in the same place where they were. Meaning, they would never be able to get closer to each other and kiss. But at least they would always be there, staring into each other's eyes and in love. They would never die but instead remain young forever and stay in this stage of wooing.
    The poem made me realize I'm able to have what this poet so desperately wanted, to be able to live and love and even be loved. Yet I was willing to throw away those possibilities by ending my own life. It made me feel guilty. I told Ollie about this in one of our video chat appointments and he told me  this: 

"If you feel guilty for what you almost did, don't because you didn't do it and are still here. You're trying your best to stay alive which is something not everyone is able to do and that says a lot about you. You're a fighter, Cain so instead of feeling guilty you should feel proud of yourself. We may not be stuck in a happy state like the two lovers painted on the Grecian urn but at least we have the opportunity to experience happiness. Even if our life isn't how we would like it to be, at least we have it. And as long as we're here, we have the opportunity to make our life better, to make our life the way we want it to be. Things don't always work out the way we want them to but that doesn't mean things will never work out for us. We have to fight to live but it's a fight worth fighting. So fight for your happiness. Fight for you and live for you. There is so much to live for, you just have to find those things. For happiness is like a hidden treasure, you have to look for it but once you find it, you will treasure it all the more."

    "Hey Libby?" I close my eyes tight as I prepare to say my most recent decision to someone for the first time.
    "Yea? What is it?"
    "Do you think--I mean, I was thinking about perhaps trying out to be a backup dancer...If you hadn't met me, what would you think in regards to that? Would you feel sorry for me or would you be happy for me?" It's the question I've been asking myself repeatedly these past few days, how would those that were once my fans react to me becoming a backup dancer? It's something unheard of for someone that was once an idol to become a backup dancer for another idol. Usually it's the other way around as one would first start off as a backup dancer and then move onto becoming an idol. But for me it would be the opposite, instead of moving up the ladder, I would be going down the ladder. All those years of training and performing on stage in my own group only to then lower myself to just being one of the many dancing in the background. The worst part is, what would my parents think? I haven't told them about this yet as I fear I'll only end up disappointing them.
    "Why would I feel sorry for you? You'll be doing something you love. Sure it may not be in the same way you used to but as long as it makes you happy then I'm happy too! Heck I would even be proud of you!" She leans in to hug me and all of a sudden I feel my face burning up and my heart pounding in my chest. As unexpected as the hug was, the things she said surprised me even more. And for the first time I realize that THIS, what Libby has shown to me is love. Maybe not the romantic kind but unconditional love nonetheless and that's the kind of love I want.

Book two in the SeoulMates STANDALONE series. (Book one, THE PERFECT CURE is published as an ebook and paperback. Link to purchase is at the end of Synopsis).

* Note: This is a Work In Progress. Once fully written, the story will then be edited. In the process of editing some scenes may be added, deleted or changed. The edited version will then be published and sold as an ebook and paperback.

SYNOPSIS: A story about friendship, romance and second chances.

As someone that has never dated, LIBBY a 33 year old Autistic woman has lost all hope of finding love. Yet even though she gave up on such a possibility, she has not yet given up on the possibility of becoming a mother, her lifelong dream. All it took was some appointments at a fertility clinic and voila, she is pregnant! It's all thanks to her anonymous sperm donor and the science of IVF.

Once a Kpop idol in a group called Adam, CAIN was loved by many. He performed all over the world, won awards and his group often made it #1 on the charts. But as everyone knows all good things must come to an end and his career is no exception. For 7 years he danced and rapped on stage, it was all he knew. He lived for that life and now without it he has nothing left to live for.

The once girly girl SAM with long hair that dressed in pink dresses and heels has traded all that for a short pixie cut, too big clothes, and sneakers. She had to if she wanted to escape her past and start a new life. Not only that but the way she looks now is a way to shield and protect her from the thing she fears most, men.

In search of love and acceptance, ELI will do anything to receive what he lacked with his parents. Sure he might have been loved as a Kpop idol but that love was never really because of him but his music. Were he loved for himself, those that had once called himself his fans wouldn't have wanted him out of the group because of one mistake that he made.

* Due to health issues I cannot upload a chapter a day but will try to upload AT LEAST 2-3 chapters a week.

Links to buy book one in the SeoulMates Series:

Amazon (Paperback): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RH7MKMW?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860

Barnes&Noble (ebook): https://m.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-perfect-cure-a-h-alonso/1138522056?ean=2940165270093

Apple Books (ebook): https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1546341629

Kobo (ebook): https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-perfect-cure-2

Walmart (ebook): https://www.walmart.com/ip/The-Perfect-Cure-eBook/775507540

Vivlio (ebook): https://www.vivlio.fr/ebooks/the-perfect-cure-9781393203001_9781393203001_10020.html

Follow me on Instagram: @seoulmatesnovels for updates on the series!


In the end, Liberty decided on her simple black sheath dress, accentuated with gold tone and purple cloisonné earrings and necklace, her shoes black stilettos.
When she arrived at the restaurant, she found Byron Keats already seated at a small table for two.The ma?tre d' and waitera plump, little man with a dark halo of hair around his bald pateescorted Liberty over to her "young man."Keats wore the same clothes he had on this afternoon, but had added a black knit tie.When he saw her, he stood and offered a smile of acknowledgement and of appreciation.
"Hi," he greeted as she joined him."I'm glad you decided to come after all."
"I wouldn't dream of standing you up, sergeant.Your interrogation methods intrigue me."After Liberty took a seat, she accepted the menu the waiter handed her.
"What would you like to drink?" the little man asked after informing them that he went by the sobriquet of Miguel.
"A bottle of Tempranillo for two," Keats ordered, having settled back in his chair.
"And a glass of ice water," Liberty added as a precaution.With water on hand, she could slow down her consumption of wine.
"Excelente!"Miguel proclaimed before he left to fetch the wine and glasses.
Liberty took a moment to look around.Their table came with a red and white checked cloth, a lit candle dripping wax down a fat wine bottle, a basket filled with fried tortilla chips, and two salsas, one red and one green.Murals of Spanish scenes decorated the cream stucco walls, a splashing fountain in a plaza scene, a village marketplace, and a matador swirling a red cape before a charging black bull.
Now giving her a pointed look, Keats crossed his arms on the tabletop."I didn't think I included an interrogation in my dinner offer."
"You didn't.I'm just trying to be witty."
"Good, I like witty women.How did you get the name Liberty?"
"It's a long story and not very interesting.What about you?Byron Keats.Your parents must have been in a very poetic mood."
"Let's just say they're academically inclined."Taking a tortilla chip from the bowl, he broke it in two and placed the pieces on his bread plate."Both parents are teachers."
"And you never cared for poetry or English literature."
"Not really."
Liberty began to recite what she remembered from the poetry courses she took at the university."'I met a lady in the meads, Full beautiful, a faery's child:Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild.'That's from La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats."
When she finished, the detective offered a curious look."Hum, I haven't taken you for a gal who likes old-fashioned poetry.I thought you'd be more inclined to the hip-hop kind of poetic rhymes."
"You mean like: 'She's a sexy witch, and a real bad-ass bitch.Slap her around and she'll sex you to the ground.'"She threw him an indignant glare."I just made that up, but detective, your comment not only reeks of sexism but racism, too.Surely, you're more enlightened than that."
He donned a stricken expression and grabbed another tortilla chip."Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply...I mean you seem more...you know, like an urban, chic, modern person."
"I am, but I'm well-educated, too.I graduated from one of the top ten law schools in the country, and I studied more than just law. I took courses in literature and poetry with emphasis on the Age of Enlightenment and the romantic era. I'm partial to the sonnets of Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the poetry of Maya Angelou."
"Again, I'm sorry," he offered, "Please forgive my ignorance and stupidity."
Liberty had to laugh, despite his blunder and bluster."I accept your apology."She added, "You are the master of your fate, and the captain of your soul."
"Now what's that from?"
"It's my version of the ending of the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley." 
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat."Okay, let's start again.Call me Keats like everyone else does, just Keats.I hate Byron."
She smiled."I didn't particularly care for his poetry either."
"Huh?"
"Lord Byron, whom I assumed you were named after as well as Keats.In fact, John Keats and Lord Byron were fellow poets as well as friends."
"I guess that's good to know, but it doesn't help me one iota in this day and age."For emphasis, Keats cracked his second chip and then placed the pieces with the other broken chip."If Lord Byron and Keats were criminals in their time, they might garner my attention.Otherwise I don't bother."
The return of the waiter with their wine and her water quelledwhat Liberty considereda rather illuminating conversation with the detective.
Miguel poured the first glass of vino and offered it to Keats who took a quick sip and pronounced it delicious.
"Perfecto," the waiter agreed and poured the acceptable red wine in a long-stemmed glass for Liberty."And for your dinners, what will you like?"
Since she hadn't really glanced at the menu, Liberty did a quick perusal and decided on the paella, saffron rice with shellfish, while Keats opted for the house specialty, el bistek toreador.
Their waiter then snapped the menus from their hands."I will bring you salad and hot bread shortly."
When Miguel left, Keats raised his glass."Well, here's to a better start.By the way, you look very nice tonight.I mean, you look real good."
Stifling a grin, Liberty took up her glass."Thank you, sergeant.I appreciate your candor."
They both paused to sip their wine.Liberty found it full-bodied, almost dry with an earthy under taste.When Keats set aside his glass, he became all police business now and returned to their earlier conversation."I know you have the cell phone, Liberty, or at least I have a very good idea that you do.We have a copy of the message sent to Dr. Baumgard, as provided by Mr. Durrell who copied it after the doctor showed him the original text message."Keats leaned in."And I know the doctor showed it to you as well."
"Yes, he did."Retrieving her black spangled purse, Liberty pulled out a small plastic baggy with the late doctor's phone inside.She pushed it across the table."I never meant to be coy or stubborn, and I never set out to deliberately break the law by withholding evidence."
"Okay," Keats acknowledged with a wary look.Scooping up the bagged phone, he placed it in his jacket pocket.
"I have an employee who's very good with electronics and computers." Liberty went on to explain."I wanted to see if he could discover the origin of the message, even the sender."
"But he couldn't," the detective concluded between sips of wine."Because the sender used a pay-as-you-go, disposable phone.Mr. Durrell told us that, but we have our own experts in the department who will do their best to discover the sender or at least where the phone was purchased."
Miguel returned with their salads and a basket of hot, steamy bread slices that gave off the heady aroma of garlic and butter.Liberty picked up her fork and toyed with her salad, a mix of lettuce, tomatoes and black olives swimming in an olive oil and vinegar dressing."Now what about Dr. Baumgard's murder?Do you have any preliminary data from the coroner's office?"
"Yes," Keats acknowledged as he dunked a piece of thick garlic bread in his salad dressing."Dr. Baumgard was stabbed by a sharp instrument introduced just below the rib cage and into the heart with a downward thrust."




Marva Dale is the pen name for author Debra McReynolds.  Retired from the public relations field, Debra now spends her free time indulging in her passion for writing.  "I used to fill my school notebooks with stories," Debra relates, "and then add artwork to go along with them.  My second grade teacher, Mrs. Daley, predicted that I would be a writer one day."
A fan of the mystery genre, she enjoys crafting tales with a twist of suspense, a touch of romance, and a bit of humor. 
Debra and her husband, Dale, make their home in El Paso, Texas, with their dog, cats and rabbits.

Sexy, black lawyer, Liberty Sloane is asked to defend a deaf public relations executive accused of killing a well-known physician. Dr. Daniel Baumgard, known for his philanthropy, just opened a new shelter for abused women, although he also ran a women’s healthcare clinic that offers abortions. Madeline Kime promoted the doctor’s endeavors through her PR agency while harboring deep secrets concerning the Baumgard family, including the doctor’s son, Rhett, a congressman, and his socialite wife, Savannah. So who hated the doctor enough to stab him in the foyer of his own home? Liberty has a number of suspects on her list, including a pro-life group, not to mention the additional crimes of stolen clinic files and a blackmail scheme. To complicate matters, she has to fend off the advances of one-time boyfriend Preston Durrell, a private detective, while entertaining a new romance with the officer on the case, Sergeant Byron Keats. Worse, Liberty planned a Caribbean vacation with her BFFs, but has to postpone it in order to defend her client for murder one.

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