Nobodys Princess

''Tako spremna da ti ovdje dođe kraj,'' promrmljao je, praktički sebi u bradu, ''da ovo bude sumrak tvoga života, iako ti je život jedva počeo. Spremna si odustati od svega.''
''Nije to kraj, to je početak'', usprotivila sam mu se gotov bez daha.
''Nisam vrijedan toga'', tužno je rekao.
''Sjećaš li se kad si mi kazao da ne bidim ysebe vrlo jasno?'' upitala sam ga, podigavši obrve. ''Očito patiš od istoga sljepila.''
''Znam što sam.''
Uzdahnula sam.
Ali sad mi je prewstao tako spremno odgovarati. Stisnuo je usne i stao me prodorno promatrati. Jedan dugi trenutak proučavao mi je lice.
''Znači sad si spremna?'' upitao me.
''Ovaj.'' Progutala sam knedlu. ''Da?''
Osmjehnuo se i polako počeo priginjati glavu, sve dok mu hladne usne nisu dotaknule kožu tik pod kutom moje čeljusti.
''Baš sad?'' prošaptao je, studeno dišući uz moj vrat. I nehotice sam zadrhtala.
''DA'', prišaptala sam, da mi glas ne bi dobio priliku da prepukne. AKo misli da blefiram, razočarat će se. Već sam donijela tu odluku i bila sam sigurna u nju. Nije bitno što mi je tijelo kruto kao daska, što su mi ruke stisnute u šake, što mi je disanje nepravilno...
Mračno se zahihotao i odmaknuo od mene. Na licu mu se ipak vidjelo razočaranje.
''Ne možeš zaista vjerovati da bih tako lako popustio'', rekao je s ogorčenim prizvukom u podrugljivom tonu svoga glasa.
''Daj djevojci da sanja svoje snove.''
Podigao je obrve. ''Zar o tome sanjaš? O tome da postaeš neman?''
''Ne baš'', rekla sam, namrštivši se na njegov izbor izraza. Neman, baš. ''Uglavnom san jam o tome da zauvijek ostanem s tobom.''
Izraz mu se promijenio, smekšavši se i rastuživši od prigušene boli u mom glasu.
''Bella.'' Prstima je blago prešao obrisima mojih usana. ''Ostat ću s tobom - nije li to dosta?''

....A onda se nagnuo i još jedanput priljubio hladne usne na moje grlo....

Stephenie Meyer (ne Stephanie) - Sumrak (Twilight)

HTjela sam s vama podijeliti samo mali fragment predivne knjige. Predobre. Hipnotizirajuće. Eto. Čitajte.
Jess.

It is said that only birds, butterflies and angels have wings. They are for those good living beings who deserve that privilege of flying across the sky, with their voices through the cold wind to help all the lost souls.
Not so long ago, a girl was born into his world. We all know that this world is far from perfect. Her mother and father have never tried to make her feel that way, but still she had a childhood. Well, she remembers only fractions of it, the fractions that the horrible war could not take away. And they seem good.
Without the fake modesty, she always thought she was a good person. And to be perfectly honest, most of the people around her did, too. Now, I’m not saying she was a saint because she was not. She’s a girl. A girl who was told she was a princess. It doesn’t matter who told her, what it matters is that he or she did tell her. She never really believed that. That was something fake.
One day she was blessed with an Angel Wings because she was good. As we all know, you can’t actually see the Wings themselves. They are seen through the good deeds that one does. And she did a lot of them. But, like in every other story, there has to be someone bad. Envious people have always been there to make her life unbearable, nevertheless she had a good heart, they were and still out there to hurt her.
She met someone she thought might be her prince. He wasn’t. He was one of those bad ones who only want to steal and break other peoples’ happiness just because they cannot make their life worth living for. Her wings were broken then. After long time, they have grown back; but the thing that’s broken once cannot be perfect ever again.
Now, her wings are broken again. They hurt. ‘Why do ignorant people want to take away the smile from my face?’-she wonders still. ‘How do they manage to get through to me, to make me like them, love them?’ Questions that will never be answered because there is no one to answer them. And even if there was someone-they would be unable to do so; no one can answer, everyone can only make assumptions, everyone can only try. Maybe, someday someone actually finds an answer to the eternal question-‘Why do we act like beasts?’.
I know that there are many people wondering the same and the similar questions as this princess with broken wings… And many more people are left without an answer. But my only question is: Why did you broke my wings? Because they hurt so much. Maybe they’ll never grow back again. And I need them.
Jess.

Mislim da mi je spoznaja da starog bloga kojeg više nemam (a oko kojeg sam se ja trudilai trudila oko godinu dana) više nema... donijela još jednu, važniju spoznaju. A ista bi bila: da sam izišla iz onog polutrajnog morbidnog raspoloženja kojim sam plašila svoje poznanike koji su navikli na uvijek-nasmijanu-Jess. No, u svoju obranu-nije mi bilo do pretvaranja. Zato baš sada mogu reći da se niti ne trebam pretvarati. Nemam razloga. Možda se ponovno zaljubljujem (nakon stvarno dugo vremena), vraćam se na svoje mjesto u školi ( a pritom mislim na ocjene ). Preda mnom su opet izazovi, ali sada na mene djeluju... nekako.. tjeraju me da se uhvatim u koštac s njima. Prije sam samo odustajala.

Nedostajala sam si. (Ali eto {Da, znam da rečenice ne trebaju počinjati veznikom, ali nisam mogla odoljeti.}, vratih se iz bezdana koji i nije bio baš neki bezdan. Možda neki mračni bunar. Nikako bezdan. I žao mi je onih koji su još u bunaru... i on se povećava... sve dok ne postane bezdan. Ali ja sam imala anđele koji su osvijetlili put. Oni znaju tko su. I hvala im.) I sad mi baš drago da sam tu!

P.S. Now everybody's gonna love today...

Love, Jess

SO... netko se usudio moj prošli blog ukloniti (ili ne znam što već) tak da.. GRRR ja, Jess, morah se potruditi i napraviti novi blog kako bih zadovoljila svoju potrebu za kreativnim pisanjem jer, iskreno rečeno, u školi i nemam baš priliku za to... mislim... tko će pisat o prošlogodišnjem gradivu (Matija Petar Katančić i sl. FUJ.)... U svakom slučaju... Evo mene opet.. and I'm here to stay.