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When stories end, you can see poetry floating in the air, waiting to be written. Prophecies will be sentenced, and in them, you will see the blessing inside the curse. Afterward, in letters to yourself, you will tell your former self that there is nothing better than change. It is widely known that once you lose the love of your life, you have no other choice but to become a ghost. And if someday you find yourself wishing that someone loves you, let it all go; you are trapped in the wrong kind of love. Sometimes you will end up severely broken, so you will keep your pieces in a vault, and then you will not help but to fall for the first one who tells you they are going to repair you. Because if you never knew what true love was, you are always seeking it, even in the darkest eyes of a stranger. Then, the only way you know how to love when you are tortured is in completely silence. Once you have grown up and let rest the past, it will not matter how much people have damaged you. Then you realize that some things hurt even more when, in between, there is a matter of blood. And deep in your soul, you know that when your heart is broken for the first time, there is nothing you can do; it will never be the same again. At the end of each story, when evil seems to be winning, I always appeal to karma. But these days, I cannot help but wonder that evil never wins, but what if they do this time?

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