1: [Society #1] Stories
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The beginning is always hard; patience is key, and with time, things tend to improve—just as wise people often remind us when we're starting a story. At first, you may not know where to begin or what your starting point is, so you search for it. Once you find it, you can begin writing your story—whether it's your first, second, third, or even your millionth. You might know where your story begins, but the number of stories we live through is unknown. The person who enters a story is not the same person who exits to begin the next.
Living a long story behind may be difficult, but you remain part of many stories. You might notice some stories repeating, others mirroring the experiences of people around you, and at times, you may even smile because you can guess how they’ll end, having seen them unfold before. There are moments when you feel like the conductor of all these stories, but at other times, it seems like you're simply living within them, forgetting your own.
Living short stories is like reliving life over and over again. Each time, you’re eager to finish one and begin another, feeling the thrill of starting something new. But along the way, you may either lose yourself or grow, depending on how each story ends. We are all the heroes of our own stories—some converge, while others diverge. People become part of your story, just as you are part of theirs.
Choose peace, love yourself, and keep smiling. The most beautiful story of all is having life and meeting others to write stories together.
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[Society #1] Stories
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2: [Society #2] A Childhood Faded Too Soon
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**Wreckage and ruin stretch endlessly. All is gray—everything blends into the color of sorrow and fear. Barefoot, she runs toward her shattered home, her eyes searching, her voice pleading, "Buppy! Buppy!" **
A gentle voice calls from behind, "Come back. It's dangerous here."
"I'm looking for my dog, Buppy," she responds softly. "It was the last gift from my mother before she died."
He looks at her, his expression weighed down by grief. "Buppy went to join your mom in a beautiful place—a place far better than this."
She understands, her gaze lowering. Yet, she walks forward, her heart heavy but her steps steady.
Not far away, a small girl stretches her fingers toward a key dangling from a broken door. A boy watches her curiously.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"I want to keep the key," she whispers. "As a memory of our home. Can you help me reach it?"
He hesitates, swallowing the tears that burn his eyes, then takes the key and places it in her open hand. She nods gratefully and walks away, never looking back.
Nearby, a brother and sister play barefoot in the dust. Their laughter is edged with sadness, their smiles heavy with unspoken burdens. The boy's face looks pale and chilled.
"Aren't you cold?" someone asks. "Where's your jacket?"
"I have one," he replies.
"Then why aren't you wearing it?"
"I gave it to my sister," he answers simply.
"Why?"
"Because I'm a man," he says quietly. "And she needs it more."
A pause lingers before the next question. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A doctor," he says, his voice wavering. "But... but..." The weight of that unfinished thought hangs in the air—his eyes speak the impossibility he cannot voice.
*They are children by age, yet their eyes and words reveal a reality far beyond their years. They have grown up too soon, their innocence taken by a world they did not choose.*
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[Society #2] A Childhood Faded Too Soon
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