courage

Tanya turned around just in time to watch the blood curling scream escape from Natalie’s pretty little mouth. But what caught Tanya’s attention more than the blood curling scream would be the blood red stain down the front of Natalie’s white school shirt.

Courage. James Neil Hollingworth once said: “courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.”

What do you think of when the word “courage” is said? Maybe you think of things such as the famous tightrope artist Charles Blondin who has crossed the Niagara Falls many times. Or perhaps you think of those people who get shot out of canons at carnivals. Maybe, you think of those who go into the wild to search wild animals and sometimes even wrestle with them! Like the ever famous Steve Irwin. But today, I’d like to tell you a story about someone who displayed a different sort of courage.

There was this girl I once knew, she had dark hair down her back and a heart shaped face. She had laughter like music and a heart of gold; loved by everyone around her. One might call her “popular” but then again, she didn’t have the perfect wavy hair, didn’t have the perfect body, her nose was too small for her face and she wasn’t as graceful as Natalie, the girl of every boys dreams. But still, she was lovable. With her fun loving nature and her caring personality, nobody could hate her. Her name was Tanya.

Though she seemed carefree and appeared to float around without a single burden on her shoulders, Tanya like all other girls had one fear. Natalie. She was afraid and of course, constantly overshadowed by the tall, thin, and beautiful Natalie. Natalie liked Tanya enough just like everyone, but for many reasons known Tanya always felt the need to stand a little straighter around her and every now and again check her reflection to make sure her hair was in place.

Then that day happened. It started off like any other day, Tanya walking into class with a spring in her step, class as usual, the frequent groans about homework and studies. But then came recess; the recess that changed everyone’s view of Tanya.  She was packing her previous class’ books back into her bag when she heard a loud sound – a loud sound that could only be made by bodies colliding. And when I say colliding, I mean colliding hard.

Tanya turned around just in time to watch the blood curling scream escape from Natalie’s pretty little mouth. But what caught Tanya’s attention more than the blood curling scream would be the blood red stain down the front of Natalie’s white school shirt.

“YOU FREAK!!!” were the first actual words out of Natalie’s mouth post her scream.

“YOU USELESS, GOOD FOR NOTHING FREAK!!” Tanya winced at every word.

Natalie continued on with her rant of low blows towards the quiet girl with the geeky glasses, Amy. Apparently, the girl was just walking with her Tupperware containing an omelette and with tomato sauce spread open. Natalie was walking backwards talking to her best friend when she turned around just in time to collide smack face on with the victim of the moment. Now, you may say that Natalie was the victim in this story. But if you could just hear the lines of insults and accusations coming out of her mouth, you would begin to feel as if Amy was the victim.

At first Tanya just sat there, unsure of what to do. Every line of invectives delivered by Natalie was like a blow in her own gut. She knew no human being should be treated that way. But she also knew that if she stood up for what was right, she may lose friends, she may create enemies, and she may never be looked at the same anymore. If she stood up, she would never be liked and treated nicely by the most popular girl in school anymore.

Tanya stood up. 

--------

*waves*

this was my entry for this competition my local newspaper had. the title was "write a story about Courage."

now usually, when people hand me titles to write about, instantly i get these flow of words going on in my head like "oh i could write it like this" or "maybe this will work" or i could just have the vague storyline already etching into my brain. but this time. i was an absolute blank. nada. zero. 

this was really hard to write, since i had no inspiration for it. But it is done, and hopefully it is good? 

do let me know. there IS a chat box on the left side of the page. just scroll over the mailbox photo (: 

really really hope you did enjoy it. and if you think i should have changed it or made it another way, share your thoughts! how would YOU have done it? (: 

thank you!

love,

Jess

SOON.

Hey all!

sorry i've been sort of MIA. i have a story to write up for this competition by my local newspaper. i've been kind of focusing on it and i'm stressed out of my mind!

once i hand the entry in, i'll post it up here. regardless of whether i win or not (:

but if i end up winning, you might end up seeing my name in the newspapers soon. hehe (:

stay tuned!
love,
Jess.

I smile

Like a bubble, this memory is. Thankfully, it doesn’t pop.

I’m in my room, cramming all my hair products – as many as a regular 5 year old would have of course – into my basket of clips and hairbands. Every colour possible in the rainbow can be found in my little square plastic basket. But of course, the majority had to be pink! Pink pink pink!

I giggle as I rush out of the room and set my little basket on the single settee. I then drag the wooden stool that has been kept in the living room especially for such purposes of which I was about to start to the centre of the room. I was a bundle of energy, anticipating what was about to happen. I turn on the television and set my eldest brother on the wooden stool and ask him to stay there. I pass him the remote and run downstairs.

I grab a small bowl from the just the right height cupboard and tip toe to fill it up with water from the sink. I then quickly start up the stairs. Well, as quickly as I could while holding a bowl of water filled to the very brim. I then set the bowl of water gently on the floor and bring the basket of “tools” over.

I thought when I was younger that I wanted to be a hairdresser. Why? For this very reason: I picked up the bowl of water and began splashing it onto my brother’s hair with my tiny hands. Picking up my scissors that were placed amongst my hair accessories I began to snip away what I felt was unnecessary to my brother’s head. (of course, the scissors were plastic and could hardly cut clay, so no worries, i did not bring any harm to my brother.)

Then, when I was satisfied, I would begin to place all sorts of things to “glam” up my masterpiece. Continuously adding water onto my brother’s head, I place clips here, there, and here as well; tying little bundles and tufts of hair together.

I can’t quite remember what happened after that. But I remember it happening often; me becoming a little hairdresser. I just thought it was fun and games back then. But when I think back, it was amazing how my brother who was 7 years older than me could tolerate me for that long.

And every time I am reminded of that memory, I smile.

 ----

hey guyyyysss.

this is a true story, from my real memories, with my real brother. (:

i hope you guys enjoyed that.

thank you Tai-Kor.

love, 

Jess.

schizophrenia

Everybody knew him as Johnny. Johnny was a quiet boy, kept to himself and hid behind books that, if he were truthful, he never read. He watched from a distance, sighing inwardly, wishing he could play along with the other kids in the playground. He thought he could be a good swing pusher; he wouldn’t even argue with the other children as to who gets to swing next. He would just push. He didn’t mind.

Jealousy spread through the veins in his heart wishing he was another normal child laughing and squealing in delight at the ball being thrown around the sand pit. Every now and again the children would run up to him and smile widely at him, inviting him to play with them as if they were wondering why he wasn’t with them in the first place.

“Come and play! Come and play ball!” They’d say.

But Johnny was too painfully shy. Whenever the children approached, he would just stare at them with his heart pounding 100 miles per hour.

Travis, on the other hand was the total opposite. He was the life of the party. But at that age, he would be called the king of the sand pit. His classmates would follow him around everywhere and ask him to throw the ball at them instead of to anyone else. He never had any problem making new friends, or getting praise from the teachers. Instead of him arguing for his turn to play on the swings, his friends would ask him if he would like to go next.

But Johnny was never jealous of Travis. He never said anything. He didn’t even want to be him. All he wanted was to be a part of the group of what they called “friends”. He hoped that maybe he could even find someone to call his “best friend”.

One day, Johnny’s parents came to school and he had to sit outside of the class while they were inside his classroom speaking to his teacher, Ms. Clare. He hummed inside his head swinging his legs as he sat on the too-high chair. In the back of his mind he wondered why mommy and daddy were there. They never came together to pick him. But he just pushed the thought aside hoping that it was probably nothing.

Click, the door opens. Johnny jumps off the chair and beams at his mommy. His beam is met with a look of concern and tear-stained eyes. Immediately Johnny knew something was wrong. Daddy came out with a look of shock and anger. Johnny thought he was in trouble.

Silently Johnny’s parents brought him into the car. Inside, his mother began asking him: “Are you okay honey?”  “Do you feel alright?” She looked on the verge of crying. Johnny just nodded and smiled, like he always did. He hoped that if he acted normal, nothing would be wrong anymore. Shortly after, they pulled up outside the hospital.

“Hi Johnny, my name is Dr. Zoe.” The kind looking lady with the big white jacket said to Johnny. Johnny hid behind his mother as he always did whilst meeting new people.

“Why don’t you come take a seat right here, Johnny.” She smiled and patted a wooden chair in front of her. 

Reluctantly, Johnny looked up at his mom and his mom smiled at him encouraging him to follow what the doctor said. So, slowly Johnny moved toward the seat away from his mothers behind and sat down looking at his lap.

“Johnny, would you like a sweet?” the doctor showed him a bowl of green and red sweets.

Johnny flinched.

“which one would you like Johnny?”

He looked at his mom and dad. His parents nodded and smiled at him, telling him it was okay, just do what the nice lady said.

“which colour is your favourite?” the lady asked again.

“R-red.” Johnny stuttered.

“go ahead and pick your favourite colour then Johnny.” Dr. Zoe said.

Johnny wondered why she put so much emphasis on his name when she said it.

So Johnny reached into the bowl and was about to pick a red coloured sweet when he flinched again.

Johnny shook his head and tried to keep focus, knowing what was happening. He forced himself to pick up the red sweet when he got attacked by a fit of twitches.

When the twitches were done, Travis looked up at the lady then looked at his hand.

“ew. I don’t like red.” said Travis.

He threw the red sweet back into the bowl and picked up a green one, immediately opening it up and tossing the sweet into his mouth.

The doctor sighed. “I’m fairly certain, its Schizophrenia” 

Travis watched in confusion as his mother burst into tears and his dad just sat there holding his mom.

The parents now knew, that what the teacher said in school earlier that day was true. That when the teacher watches her students from the window, she’d always notice how there was one kid standing at the corner just watching the other children laughing and she knew that child was Johnny, and that Johnny was just shy. She always encouraged the other pre-schoolers to invite him to play. But he’d always just freeze up when they approached him.

But on some other days she would see a child running around with the other children laughing and throwing balls. She would watch that boy talk and laugh with his friends, always being the centre of everyone’s attention, and she knew that child would grow up to become a leader one day. However as the teacher watched, she experienced a very confused and scared feeling; that child that all the children seem to love? He looked the splitting image of the shy and afraid boy Johnny.

When finally the teacher decided to ask some of the students, the children only said: “Travis is the best swing pusher ever!” Or they would say “Travis is the best ball thrower!” and then they’d get a little confused when the teacher asked about Johnny. They would then say: “who’s Johnny? That boy who doesn’t want to play? No? That’s Travis! He just doesn’t want to play sometimes.”  

----

hello!

so, awhile ago i entered the schools essay writing competition, and i was going to post it up here, but i decided i would only post it if i won

and i won. 

so here it is! hahah

this story was inspired by a very good and close friend of mine, Bryan. when i was thinking of what to write for the competition (it was a free topic) i asked him for suggestions and he suggested something along the lines of a person having split personality 

or, as you now know it, schizophrenia.

so you owe this story to him! hehe.

that's all for now

till the next,

Jess

a little more personal

Hey everyone! okay i'm SO sorry i haven't updated in so long! i've been having my exams and also went to visit my grandparents across the south china sea. i may not be updating so much the next week or so because i'll also be having my youth camp (which i am extremely excited for) 

this post is going to be a little bit more personal than my normal stories because i just thought it's a part of my life which i want you guys to know about (:

i'm nearing 1000 blog views so i am very excited hehe.

i want to thank all of you guys who read this and come back to check if i've updated. it really means a lot to me.

this blog has sort of been a dream for the past two years but i could never get it started up for two reasons.

one. i always seemed to be too busy. hm. 

two. i have a sort of insecurity where i feel i can never be good enough or good at all. but i have come to realize that i do have a talent. (sort of hehe) and well, with passions like these, comes criticism. so i am now willing to learn and accept and think about the criticism people give me (: 

a friend of mine recently shared my blog on her blog. and that makes me really excited because in the past, whenever i read a really interesting or good blog, i realize that they get shouted out by different people ALL the time.

so the fact that i have been "shouted out", makes my heart squeeze in excitement. hoping for many more blessings as these.

thanks Chelsea *less than three*

with that i bid good bye 

wait up for my next post (: 

love,

Jess

souls

=prologue=

Lights fading in and out, Sonia can’t seem to regain consciousness. She hears, vaguely some unfamiliar voices speaking in panic above her, some hysterical crying. Bring lights flash above her. She tries to wake up but her efforts are only answered by blackness which she is enveloped back into. She knew she was going to die. She knew it since she hit the ground. She wanted to laugh, giggle perhaps, but it wouldn’t come; only darkness, short bursts of light and sound replied.

====

Souls.

Ammie, from the east side of the state made her way down to the south cost; dropped off by the midnight bus in an unfamiliar place. That was the point, somewhere no one knew her. She was an odd puzzle. Somehow didn’t mix with the rest of the jigsaw box. She didn’t fit. She was tired of the teasing, the taunting, the coldness, the inability to be accepted, even from her family; especially, from her family. Dark eyes, gun in her bag, she sees a convenience store nearby, isolated with only a few cars parked outside. She gives a small sad smile.

Talya and Sam married young ran away from home in young love. Thought they could make it without finishing college. It’s been 3 years since and now they’re desperate, almost homeless and penniless. Barely, they survive on stolen money and bits of salvaged food from the bins. They now sit crouched, cold, wet and 

hungry next to a car looking for their next victim of theft.

Sonia was a quiet fair girl. She never felt any more special than last season’s outfits. But, if you asked anyone, her soul held the most amount of love, care and kindness possible.

She sees the desperate couple on the ground as she was leaving her part time job. Noticing the lady shivering, Sonia shrugs off her own jacket, and passes it to her. Shock and embarrassment crosses the ladies pale face. 

Sonia merely smiles and says “Bless you”. 

Leaving the thankful lady with her husband, Sonia turns to go to her car. But abruptly, she stops and doubles back realizing she has left her scarf.

Chimes on the door ring as she steps in

“Forgot my scarf” she laughs with the cashier as if it were an inside joke. 

She then sees the shaking girl trying desperately to find her purse to pay for her packet of twinkies. Sonia fishes out her purse and puts a ten on the counter. For the second time that night, a look of shock and embarrassment is addressed toward her.

“Keep the change for yourself” Sonia said in with reply, with a  kind smile.

Grabbing the bag of twinkies and the change, the girl ran out in confusion.

Sonia shrugs,  hoping the girl was blessed.

“Give us your money and possessions” came a shaky female voice.

Sam and Talya have found their victim. They watched her as she slowly turned around.

Sam taking out his blunt penknife: "You heard her, hurry up.”

The girl turns around, fear flashes in her eyes upon seeing the knife.

“That’s right, just give us your stuff and nobody will get hurt” Talya says.

Suddenly, a gun appears in the scene, grasped in the hand of their victim. Shakily, the girl points it toward them.

Out of the blue, a voice cries: “Stop! Don’t! What’s going on?”

Startled, Ammie accidentally pulls the trigger in the direction of the female voice.

The lady falls to her knees clutching her stomach; blonde hair covering her face.

“No. no no no no no no.” Ammie starts to cry.

“No! Please no!” she cries running towards the woman.

She had accidentally shot the one person who had shown her kindness in her whole life.

She had accidentally shot Sonia.

“How could you?!” Talya screams. Recognizing the kind soul who had spared her jacket.

“It- it was an accident.” Ammie said, shaking, tears pouring down her face.

~end part 1~

Hey guys, i'm SOOO sorry i haven't updated in A MONTH. I know. I've been wanting to update since the second week of March. But i had exams and then i was away on holiday. Didn't get the chance to update. Here it is! part 1 of my new short story called Souls. I hope you enjoy it (: 

Its a little patchy and not exactly filled up. A little empty. But it was on top of my head and i had to get it all out at once. 

Also, I have thought of a whole story line for a book. Let me know if you're curious to know about it and want to read it! Perhaps i will start up a Wattpad? (:

Give me your ideas! 

Till the next update.

-Jess

Alasde

There was once a place filled with mystical creatures and weird looking folk up to no good. It is believed to be called Alasde.

The strangest beings could be found in Alasde. One might go there for what you would call an adventure. But then again, to the people of Alasde – also known as Alasdians - such “adventures” were their everyday life.

Alasde was a not a very big place. Perhaps it could fill a village of trolls, but not much more. It was vastly occupied by little slopes and little valleys creating the illusion of what we might call mountains.

Alasde was a place of odd happenings; perhaps you call it magic or witchcraft. But Alasdians were accustomed to such events. As I said before, it is their everyday life.

Alasde is a place where you will find flowers watering themselves with their grim and sour faces. Or perhaps you would come across something that might look like a little goat fluttering around not quite used to their newly given wings.

The people of Alasde were ordinary enough though. They needed their morning coffee just like us, had little rascals for kids, and of course had jobs they hated.

They looked normal enough the same amount of limbs as us, hair of all sorts of styles and lengths, a face with all the right features.

Hard to surpass though were the colours of their eyes, hair and skin.

Depending on which city you were at, you would find different colours; from a beautiful bright yellow, to the darkest of blues.

One might find it fascinating to visit such places, to hear the Alasdians themselves yell to their flowers to “behave yourselves” before a squabble erupts between one and another flower beds.

But one also might find it hard to even find let alone get into the country itself.

Why? Well the country of Alasde isn’t attached together. In fact, parts of the country could be hundreds of miles apart from each other. I suppose, each part away from each other could be called a city. You could not possibly drive from one city to another in Alasde.

Confused?

Each city of Alasde is placed on wings.

Wings of butterflies.

<<< 

Yesterday, (Valentine’s day!) my parents, brother and I went on a hiking trip to a river in the outskirts of my town (:

At one of the rivers, we had an encounter with a butterfly, known as our national butterfly called the Raja 

Brooke. I was thus inspired to write a story around butterflies (:

So this story is dedicated to all the nerds out there who (much like me) enjoy reading fiction such as Narnia and stories about hobbits or whatnot (;

I had a lot of fun writing this, it sort of all came at one go. So I did not prewrite this.

Fiction writing is not my strong point. I am not very good at creating creatures and such. So this would not be one of my better stories.

I got the name Alasde from the Spanish translation of butterfly wings: alas de mariposa

I hope you caught the fact that “each city had different coloured people” was inspired because butterflies have a wide variety of colours (:

I know it’s rather short.

But still, hope you enjoyed.

Hehe.

-Jess.

but the taste of love

This week, i decided to challenge myself and ask some of my friends for topics to write on. I was given a few good ones that i will definitely write on in the coming days.But this one was special, coming from a special best friend (hehe, wink wink Amber)she said:"write a post ending with ' ...to know him would ruin the mystery, but i want his love.'"so here it is.

>>>

He’d catch my attention in the distance; without intending to.

And then I’d watch.

Intrigued, I find myself captivated by his presence though he could be hundreds of meters away.

I watch him laugh with a seemingly effortless smile. His eyes crinkle at the edge, giving off the impression of wisdom.

I crook my head to the side as I watch him about to collide with a student who was unaware; heading in his direction.

“Turn around” I urge him in my mind.

“You’re going to run into day-dreaming Dean. Turn around.” I stress in my head.

“You’re going to-!”

Too late.

Books fly everywhere. Papers flutter in the gentle breeze.

I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding.

My short bangs catch my exhaled air and move out of place.

Pushing my hair back into place, I see him apologizing to day-dreaming Dean. Of course, that’s not his real name. But then again, I wouldn't know. I had no idea who that boy was.

Helping to pick up the scattered study notes, he hands them back to him and gives a heart stopping smile.

I look away and catch my breath.

My face grows hot as I stare at my lap. Stealing a glance at him, I watch him stroking one of the schools stray cats and absent minded I wonder how his gentle touch would feel against my face.

My thoughts wander when suddenly I remember what I had been occupied with before I got.. distracted.

I take out the pencil I had subconsciously put in my hair earlier and place the tip down on my notebook seated on my lap.

“what was I going to write?” I think.

I catch myself flitting my eyes in his direction.

“Stop” I tell myself, obviously distracted.

“Focus.” I close my eyes.

Seconds pass and I open my eyes in frustration unable to remember what I had been meaning to jot down into my notebook.

I snap it shut, irked.

About to shove it into my bag, I bite my pencil and look up.

My pencil falls.

Meters away our eyes meet; his bright eyes to mine, dark and dull.

Curiosity momentarily crosses his face.

A lonely girl with dark hair and dark eyes sitting under an old oak tree surrounded by autumn leaves reflected in his eyes.

He gives a hesitant smile.

Ashen, I look down and pack my bag in haste. I get up, brush the dirt off my back and slinging my bag, I walk away.

Looking back under my hair I catch his confused face turning back to his laughing friends as they call his name.

Quickly, I am forgotten.

Hugging myself, I decrease the speed of my step.

I hear the crunch of dead leaves under my feet. Strange how dead leaves could be so beautiful.

I wonder if he thinks so too.

I wonder if he likes this shade of orange like I do.

I wonder if he enjoys nature like this.

I smile to myself realizing how I was moulding him into something fiction in my head.

Turning around to look for him, I know I won’t find him.

But I catch his grey and blue jumper far in the distance.

I get a ridiculous idea of running to him and introducing myself.

As I thought about it turning my back to him again,

I realize,

to know him,

would ruin the mystery.

But back home, as I brush my hair out, I think,

“but I want his love.”

<<

(:

hope you enjoyed that! more to come. 

-Jess.

YAYY

hello readers! (:

just in case you guys are wondering how to navigate my blog:

hover your mouse over the photos on the left side of the screen (:

the top one is my biography, blogs i read and other whatnot.

the bottom one is my chatbox.
but, each post has a comment option now (: if you look at the top of this post. there is something that says "shouts" click on that, and you can comment :D

so please leave a message about what you think of my writing. it will mean alot thank you! (:

Jess.

Never.

in dedication to a dear friend who just today left for studies in KL.

her face.
holds these impossibly beautiful eyes. a nose that she always stares at and rubs. and a beautiful smile. a smile that she hates. but i love. and i can name a few others that do too.
that smile, comes from a mouth that never fails to be able to take words out of my own mouth. sentences that she string together never fail to make me smile, laugh or care.
next to that face bears these adorable little ears. but though they are small, they have heard many weighted things, they are strong ears. ears that are able to take criticism. ears that never let me down when i need a pair.
that face i will miss.

her hands.
small as they are, help her hold on. with faith like a child's, she holds on to things other people give up on.
those hands are creative. always able to pick out the best clothes, make the most amazing art and craft and is also the creator of the handwriting which belongs to my best friend.
those hands never fail to find their way around my back to give me a hug.
those hands i will miss.

her feet.

tiny. as she's probably been told time and time again. but then again, fits mine perfectly. together, we always look down at our feet and laugh. changing shoes all the time. and of course, never forgetting the phrase "small is cute."
those feet that without fail always wears the latest fashion, being the envy of other feet.
but apart from being fashionable, those feet carry her through thick and thin. and somehow, always finds the strength to stay strong and help her stand tall.
those feet i will miss.

what do you get when you put all of these together?
you get Amber.

fun, crazy, loving, caring, sporty, crafty, fashionable, beautiful, strong, wise, mature, thoughtful, friendly, funny, and so much more wrapped into the body of one single, petite girl.

i will never forget the day i first met you 4 years ago.
i will never forget all the ups and downs we went through together.
i will never forget those midnight calls we had laughing and crying "over the hill".
i will never forget that smile you always had on, no matter the circumstance.
i will never forget your fighting spirit and your eager soul.
and i will definitely not forget all the plans we made together. the plans i promised you.

i did not, do not and never will regret our friendship Amber.

besides.
its not about how long you've known a person,
its about who came, and never left.

our friendship is one that will never grow invisible.

friends forever?

besides. i'm your Jessica, remember?

*smiles*

get your butt back here soon Amber.

missing you already.

New years

Two Angels stood before me awaiting my response. I sit, contemplating my decision.  

Chronos, was the name of the first angel. 

"My name is Chronos," he started. He had a deep strong voice. 

"I am an angel of time. My time, is general. It is the lifespan of birth until old age. Through Chronos, you live a life of ups and downs. You will have your laughter, your smiles, love, joy, your highs, but you will also experience pain. Tears, heartache, anger. But this journey, will make you wise."

The second angel was named Kairos.

"Kairos, is my name." He said jubilantly. 

"I too am an angel of time. But I, am not the angel of general time. I, am the angel of specific time. Through me, you will be able to choose moments of life to live. and you will not need to experience everything in life. especially not the pain. This journey will keep you young."

"You may choose one angel to follow with." Chronos said. 

"But once your choice of path is done, you may not try the other." ended Kairos.

What is your choice? 

I would choose Chronos. Because Chronos will lead me to lifes adventures. With Chronos, you will be able to experience the fullness of Kairos. For without the dusk, there will be no dawn. Without pain, you will never feel how amazing joy feels like. 

To experience Kairos, Chronos needs to be lived. 

So i choose Chronos. A life that has its downs, sure, but the life that also brings me fullness of joy. 

Have a happy new year guys (: 

Have a great and blessed new year ahead (; 

 Here's to new beginings.

Jess.