You've Got Male Models

A 20-year old prodigy heart surgeon, Chris Cahill, did not expect to share her apartment (or her life) with two aspiring male models when she finally gains her independence. A story in the process of their interesting (and equally hilarious!) adventures of three different individuals living in the present.


I write on a whim, and somewhere along the line, I have collected journals full of phrases and ideas that I use to spark a story. Got any ideas, feel free to share them. How would you interpret a JournalWord?


Gladiators, Bad-ass priests, Robots, Demons, Cowboys, Demon-Cowboys, Fast-food cashiers, Ninjas, Butlers, Pirates, Sailors... The list goes on and they all make me swoon! (We are instant best buddies if you feel the same, just saying)


Albeit reluctantly, Sarah finds herself with the responsibility of raising an angel after he crashes from the sky. Sci-fi, supernatural, and a little silly.


I'm a fiend. *cheeky smile*

Sunday, 31 March 2013


JournalWord: Finding a mother.


He can see the opening though the thinning trees, and launches himself towards the meadow.
He lands past the last of the shrubs and finds himself situated on the edge of the tall waving grass.
His eyes scan the tops of the flickering greens for her bobbing blonde head as he desperately tries to find her.

And there she is.

She's in the middle of the grassy sea, under the tall oak tree that reins this waving ocean. When she sees him, her smile breaks over her lips and welcomes him. Her smile tells him that she has been awaiting his arrival just as he's been anxious to see her. Very slowly, her arms open in front of her, almost reaching towards him.

He stiffens at the foreign gesture and he shifts suddenly, swishing his head side to side in a scan. When his eyes lock back to hers, he begins to understand that the gesture doesn't signal an intruder.

"Lucin," her voice calls. Then it clicks.

She has opened her arms in the form of a hug. His breath catches in his throat. She wants to hug him. He has seen others receive them from outside of his windows, but has never received one himself.

He instantly dashes across the field, through the wall of grass and wildflowers, and nearly flies into her arms. He wraps his long arms around her tiny waist, surprised at how delicate women are. His hands close over each other in his tight grasp. He suddenly realizes that she is so tiny compared to him, and he almost pulls himself away in fear of crushing her.

Her arms wrap around him as well and she pulls him closer, dismissing his thoughts of letting go. He clutches to her like she will disappear right then and there.
He loves the feel of her minuscule body pressed up against him.
It feels so right.


I detest long weekends.
They are a trap, I swear!
I had a list of all the things I was going to get accomplished or start.
But nope, the four day weekend is all, like, "Naaahh, this can wait until Monday night. You should totally do this instead! It's not a waste of time or distracting at all!".
Yeah, this is def happening right now.

Oh well. 
This is what happens when your motto for life is "Just say yes".
Definitely screwed. 


Saturday, 30 March 2013

A Better Time

This is a time for change, for self-improvement. 
I need to grow up. I am in need of growing up.
This is a time to become someone.
Wouldn't it be awesome to be someone I love?

I got a haircut.
Which is really big for me, considering I'm on a leash grasped tight in my father's traditional ways. 
My waist length hair is shoulder length now, and boy, if only you saw the mountain of hair around me. 
The last time I played a stunt like this, albeit with intentions only to hurt, I had just climbed off the plane from strict Pakistan, and my father didn't talk to me for a year. 
It was hurtful. It was painful.
A year is a long time to feel hated.

I'm just glad that we regained our close relationship. 
Although, since my father is in Pakistan right now, this might not have been a good time.
But hopefully, after seeing me on Skype yesterday, he'll have some time to get over it. 
I hope, and I pray. 

But this needs to be done.
I need to grow up.

(And after prospects for an arranged marriage were rejected for being unacceptable for me, I've gotta figure out my own future. Holy amazon, that's a story in itself I'm at a loss for.. Starting a mindset I am not accustomed to believe was in my power.. And how the hell does "love" play in this game??)


The only person who can figure you out is yourself. 
And if that's not true, please, reevaluate why that is.
I did, and now I have a purpose.

Feeling refreshed and light, I'm going to better myself.
Because now is a better time than never.

Saturday, 23 March 2013


JournalWord: Fate


Red strings hang, waving from the ceiling like curtains swaying in the breeze invited by an open window. The girl treads through the red fibers, pushing them aside with her fingers as she weaves between the fluttering threads. Her fingertips strum the strings like a harp, but the only sound in the endless, white hall is the brush of her knees against the hem of the mint sundress she wears. 

She follows a path only seen by instinct, winding herself further down the hall on soft footsteps with only the sight of red all around her. As if struck by impulse, she shoots her hand through the wavering threads in a direction beyond her field of vision to an area by her peripheral. 

She runs her fingertips down the strand, slowly, teasingly stroking the gossamer tendril like a precious vein. Without hesitance, she sharply grasps the string in between her fingers and palm, and tugs it towards her. 

The string pulls loose from the ceiling and the end hanging close to the floor ravels around her ring finger and the other end pulls tight in the opposite direction. The end not tied to her leads off through the other strings like a path, elongating into the sea of red. 

Pausing, she waits, her eyes focused on the taunt string that disappears down the forever hall. A tremor suddenly travels down the string, like a call that pulses through the throng of threads. It's calling for her, just as she has searched for it. 

Before the strings tugs, her feet pick up into a run and she sweeps through the curtains, following the trail to her fate.


This short is inspired by Japanese fate, where love between two people is tied together with a red string.

This is one of my versions of love. 
This being, that I don't actually believe in love. 

(shoot at me Cupid, I dare you!)

It's kind of funny, considering I used to write a lot about love when I was younger, but what does a 13 year old girl know about love anyways?

So yeah, my friends try to prove me wrong, and I'm sure they can be right and believe what they like (I am very open to knowing everyone has their own mindset that I have no control over), but I'll stick to my original plan.

Which doesn't involve love.

And instead involves the possibility of a one night stand or, in the case I am deterred from Plan A by family and friends, artificial insemination via Folder-Boy (y'know, a dude chosen from a bunch of folders.. HarHar).

Maybe I've got too much science in this brain of mine, or I'm just neurotic. Who knows! But so far, that's the plan :P

I mean, who wouldn't love a gorgeous son (manufactured by chosen genes-Yay for eugenics!) by the name of Hexane??

Well, that's a tidbit from my mind :)
Hope it didn't freak you out too much ;P

Be bubbly,
Mera <3

Friday, 22 March 2013

I Conquer. (March 22, 2013)

This week, as posted on March 16th, has been uber hectic! I had so much to do. But it is safe to say that the first stretch of many weeks filled with stress, I have conquered! 

Huzzah! *powerful lunge with empowering fist to the sky*

I had completed an amazing volunteer log of 7.5 hours (!!!) straight at the Assisted Living home and, although I'm sore to the bone from running and standing and dancing, it was refreshing. I made old lady friends! And I (somehow) managed to capture the attention of some skippy-feeted men on the dance floor. I am a terrible dancer, but I might take a guess my enthusiastic charm enchanted them. 

I'm a scoundrel. Rawr! *smiles cheekily*

I totally conquered my presentation today, and holy drats, no excessive bouts of cussing! (Chalk one up for Mera!) Sure I was still visibly shaking in my cute western boots, but I said everything I had to, and that is one step I was aiming to achieve. 

And if you can't tell from the black typed letters, I am super happy :) As of recently, I have become more susceptible to bursts of smiles and impromptu dancing. Maybe it's the yoga. Maybe it's the spring weather (if random hail/rain/sunshine/snow every hour is considered spring..). Maybe I am just going senile and this is the last stretch before I hit the looney bin?

Who knows? I sure don't but I'm not going to complain :D 

This only calls for positive themes for writing! (Ain't that nice change from drama and darkness)

Well, I'm going to keep bubbly, (and post something for ya'll to read besides this!)
Mera <3

Sunday, 17 March 2013

An Update of My Life (March 16th, 2013)

Quite a bit has been plunked on my plate as of recently that I'd really would like to relieve. 

  • In addition to university, I've managed to maintain an active position at the Assisted Living Community Home I am volunteering at, and have already clocked in some hours. I'm learning how to dance from some of the folks, and myohmy! There is nothing like real dancing, and not the hip-hop krunk, booty-popping grind that is trending right now (although I am jealous that my brothers have acquired the skill of such feats...). No, real waltz and samba are magical, and these aging men really know how to sweep a lady off her feet! I just hope the art of real dancing never retires.
  • My father departed to Pakistan, his homeland, for his half-brother's funeral on our behalf, so for the next two weeks, because I am the oldest sibling (although it is argued that because I am the shortest of the three of us, rank should be determined by height. So that I would be the youngest.. Yeah, my brothers are real rascals.) and the only one who can uphold responsibility, I am in charge of my mum and brothers while he is away. It's just an extra load of worry and stress that I hope only lasts for two weeks, but I'm sure all the gifts he'll bring back will be worth it :P
  • My anxiety is extremely high right now because I have a presentation on Friday, and I really don't want to let my group down. I've been attempting to destress myself, but with yoga classes over, and a busy schedule, I've got to figure out ways to calm myself (and maybe fit in a run somewhere this week). 

I'm not going to hope for the best, just something passable right now.
I hope you are having a much better week than I am :)

With loads of smooches!

Friday, 15 March 2013


Continuation of Gratitude, of my current story-project Bless
So take a read and let me know what you think~!
(It would be much appreciated!) 


Sarah jumps and smacks her head on the edge of the sink counter when Sam calls for her. Rubbing the aching spot with a groan, she grabs the first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink, hand still cupping the bump forming on the crown of her head, and abandons the bathroom for her bedroom, alarmed by the anxious tone in Sam's voice.

She almost skids into Sam's back, stopping the collision with the hand holding the kit slamming into his hard back. His lean 6'9 stature doesn't move when she touches him and his stillness unnerves her. "Sam," she starts, peeking at his wide eyed expression. He holds up his hand to say something, the makings of a smile wavering around an open-mouthed awe. Nothing escapes his mouth so he points away from her.

She has forgotten about Blue in her frantic to decipher what is wrong with Sam, so she is surprised when she turns to face Sam's amazement and sees Blue on her bed. To be more accurate, what is attached to Blue drops her jaw. 

"Blue?" she squeaks, but can't find any more words.

Sam breaks into a grin. "You went to get the first aid kit so I thought I'd face whatever was hidden under the bandages before you did, y'know, because of your silly squeamishness." Sarah snaps her head towards him at the jest, ready to retort but he continues. "So I managed to convince him to let me peek at his shoulder blades, I mean, on the court I see a lot of bones get broken, but his shoulder blades just didn't look right, so I unraveled the bandages and they just peeled off, then, Sarah, you see them. I wasn't sure what to do. I mean, they're feathers! Feathers! He has feathers, Sarah!"

Turning away from Sam's excited smile and twinkling eyes, she inches closer to the edge of the mattress, catching Blue's attention from the jersey spread flat on the sheets over his knees. At the sight of her, he greets Sarah with his familiar cherub smile and silent laughter, leaping from the pillows in a bound. 

Sarah freezes, stunned by his leap, but mostly by the arc of his slow descent as the wings on his back beat with his excitement and momentarily catch air. His impact slams her to the ground, and if Sam wasn't there to catch her, she would have ended up with another bump on the head. 

Blue pops his head up from her neck, his laughter a silent melody as his wings flex behind him. Her fingers cautiously reach towards his left wing with an itching mind of their own, and when he notices her endeavor before she does, he turns and stretches the wing closer so the light tips brush her fingertips. "So soft," she murmurs, stroking the long, gossamer white feathers and tufts of down clustered closer to the base of his wing. "What are you?" she breathes, gingerly brushing her fingers over the area around the base of the wing. It's smooth and flawless, and the muscles corded underneath and around his shoulder blade stretch and relax under her touch with natural ease.

A sound escapes his mouth and Sarah, startled by the only noise he has ever made, flinches her hand away only to recognize the sound, not as a cry of distress, but a giggle. Relieved that she hasn't hurt him, she grins, mirroring his contagious happiness, and without a moment's hesitance, tickles him under his ribs. 

He squeals and his previous silent laughter finally awakens to a melodic sound that carries, like a cool, light sheet dotted with twinkling stars spread overhead. The chime of his high pitched giggles bounce with the same joy radiating from his flushed cheeks. 

Sam clears his throat, ceasing the playful session so they both relay their attention to him. He has settled on the floor beside them, cross-legged, which is quite a feat for a professional basketball player, and has lost his childish glee to a more somber expression. "I think we need to discuss this first before you get too attached. Sarah, sit up, please," he commands and she obeys, imitating his seating, allowing Blue to crawl into her lap. 

She recognizes the tone and expression from when they were younger and a serious atmosphere was required for situations. "You're right," she agrees, smiling briefly at Blue who lays his palm on her cheek with confusion evident in his eyes. 

"Blue," Sam asks, diverting Blue's attention from Sarah. "How old are you? Eight? Nine? You look around ten." Blue doesn't reply, instead, he tilts his head similarly as he had when Sarah had asked him in the park. "Do you know where you live? Where your parents are?" Again, no answer. 

Sam pauses to think, his left hand burying itself in his mussed dark hair, tugging as if to pull up an answer. Finally, he leans forward to meet Blue's curious gaze and asks, "Blue, where did you come from?"

Immediately Blue smiles and shoots his arm up to point his delicate fingers to the ceiling. His eagerness to please radiates, and when he twists to Sarah for praise, she pats his head with a smile, although slightly worried. 

"I think we need to take him to the police," Sam starts, then slaps his face with his hand and changes his mind. "No, no they won't believe this. A boy with angel wings." He barks out a laugh before snapping his fingers. With eyes alight with an idea, he scrambles to his feet. "Hold on," he says, "I've got someone to call." With that said, he leaves the bedroom with his hand digging in the pocket of his sweatpants for his cellphone.

Dumbfounded by his departure, Sarah gazes at the boy nestled in her lap. "Angel, huh?" she whispers and finds herself surprised by how easily she can accept the situation. He perks up at her voice and mouths the word, so she repeats it for him. 

The word flows from his bud lips after a couple soundless efforts until he forces the air from his lungs so the last syllable of the word is heard like a bell in the air. His voice is beautiful, like a song. He repeats the word over and over, as if mesmerized by the accomplishment, and Sarah is enchanted by the symphony of his exuberance. 

"Who has connections?" Sam sings, sliding into the bedroom with his hands in the air and effectively interrupting the concert. He hooks his thumbs so they point down to his cocky smile and raised eyebrows as he proclaims, "This guy!"

Blue pauses to stare at Sam's pose in the doorway and Sarah is just as befuddled. "Is that really necessary?" she asks sarcastically, and his mock glare automatically ignites an eye roll from her.

"I was just on the phone with one of the city's top detectives and he says he'll be on the lookout for any missing children reports fitting Blue's description, but y'know, without the detail of his wings." 

"How do you know a detective?" she asks, dubious.

"He's on speed dial for some of the players on my team who need a watchdog for their girlfriends during the season. He's real famous for being anonymous and really good at investigation. Everyone knows him."

Still concerned, she asks, "What's his name?"

"He goes by Detective R," he brags, rubbing his fingernails on the chest of his shirt.

"Never heard of him," she bluntly replies and shifts Blue off her lap so she can stand. 

"Well you shouldn't," Sam answers pointedly, a catty grin smeared on his face with matching twinkles in his eyes. "Or he wouldn't be one of the city's top detectives."

"Fair enough. Now, before we get all caught up in this, because heaven only knows what else is going to happen now that a detective is involved," she raises her eyebrows at this, pointedly staring at Sam. He rolls his eyes at her in the same manner she had, but the excitement in the quirk of his mouth refuses to settle. "We need to deal with Blue, and I mean, it's obvious he's staying here with me, but Sam, I know nothing about children."

Sarah slumps onto her mattress and massages her forehead with her fingertips, strained by the responsibility. Blue immediately clambers to her side, and Sarah peeks through her fingers when he wraps his hands to pull her fingers from her face. Finally noticing his nakedness, she leans away from him to stretch across the bed for the jersey still spread on the sheets. 

"Right, my apartment is lacking on the nutrition and household necessities," Sam admits as she guides Blue's crown and arms through their respective holes. "But I could stay over tonight, although I've got practice in the morning."

"Really?" she asks with a smile of relief. Sarah tugs the jersey so it covers Blue up, and her mood gently lifts with Blue's admiration of his new favorite shirt. "Thanks Sam. I know how busy you are."

"Not at all, sweets. I just wish I could do more with my schedule. But before I say anything further, 'cuz you know I would, I have to hit up the gym with my team."

Surprised, her eyes widen and she starts an apology only for him to silence her with a chuckle. 

"Plenty of time for me to catch them," he reassures and strides towards her to bow forward and softly peck a kiss in her hair. "Now, don't fret while I'm gone. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Just make sure he eats something and drinks his juice; he didn't finish it, like he should have."

A silent battle rages as the boys lock eyes for a moment until Blue turns away to smile at her attention. "That's simple, I can handle that," she verifies, but more for herself than for him.

"Awesome, so I'm off," he calls, quickly ruffling Blue's feathery hair, chuckling when Blue frowns, and heads out the door. 

The sound of the door thudding shut at Sam's departure leaves the duo in silence. 

Blue shimmies closer to her side, snuggling almost into her lap in an attempt to attract her attention again, and Sarah chuckles at the feathers poking from the collar and short sleeves of the jersey. 

"We definitely need to figure out your clothing situation. This just won't do," she notes as he attempts to flutter his wings under the fabric constraint. He pouts, frustrated by the defiance of his favorite shirt to the whims of his wings. 


Goodness! It's taken quite the time to finish this chapter!
I haven't had the time to work on it, but after a lot of encouragement to continue from friends on Protagonize, I have made it a mission to work on it in any spare time (when my brain hasn't fallen asleep, that is!). 

So thank you all for your support! Each comment and review sparks life into my mind and reminds me of why I write :)

Also, I've been hit with quite a bit of inspiration for short stories and character ideas, which hopefully don't interfere with Bless! So I will definitely attempt to write them up, and if not, when this semester is over, there will be a lot for you to read :P

Always busy, but placing my best smile forward,
Mera! :)

Sunday, 10 March 2013


JournalWord: Squirrels.


"You can't just dump me because I hit someone's mailbox. That's unjust."

"You're right, that would be unjust. But mowing down a fence and clobbering a couple of innocent gnomes is another story."

"You're being unreasonable."

"Am I, Donny? You suddenly swerved off an empty road."

"If I didn't, I'd have killed an animal."

"An animal. Was it a deer, or maybe, a cat?"


"What was it then, Donny? What was it, Donny, that would have caused you to scream to the Lord above, and take a sharp right into someone's koi pond?"

"..A squirrel."

"My gods, Donny. A squirrel?"

"Yes, a squirrel. Don't tell me that it's suddenly an accepted act to run-over a squirrel because last time I checked, running over cute, furry animals is a no-no."


"Yes, Elizabeth."

"A squirrel?"

"Shut up! And stop laughing!"

"You-you saved a cute, furry squirrel, Donny? Aww! You're such a humanitarian!"

"Shut up and dump me already."  


I've gone MIA, I know, but I've been super busy an distracted as of late. 
Midterms (I have a genetics one tomorrow that I should be studying for right now but the uni website is acting up...-.-), volunteering (I totally got into the massive assisted living place and I'm on the insane task of completing 30 hours in a month! Btw, it's pretty fun :P), and prepping for finals and presentations and papers and assignments and all that other uni crap I really don't want to do. *pout*

My right arm throbs painfully at the thought. :S Maybe I should take up the thought of being ambidextrous... :D Wouldn't that be handy! (Pun intended, hehe)

Well, wish me luck, and in return, I'll wish you all a great week! And hopefully I update a little sooner (perhaps this week if prompted.. :P)

Be merry and great,

Saturday, 2 March 2013

Try It Green

Words that come to mind when I think of GREEN:



I'm feeling pretty crummy right now with a cold. Icky and unfocused.
Hopefully I get better soon so I can get back to writing and concentrating on my homework and exams >.<!!!

And boy, I really hope Spring comes soon. Could totally go for some outdoor fun now.

I've been on Protagonize a lot, recently, and if you haven't checked out my page, I've put up some chapters for Bless up on there without it hitting here. ;P I'll get around to updating it here though!

Let me know if I missed a word on the list, or what word comes to mind at the mention of green :)

Mera <3
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.