Rosaria is a 23 year old forensic psychology student who teams up with a not-so-famous TV show investigators Allen, Roy and Ash to learn about the secrets being hidden at an abandoned mansion called Ivy Wood, where a murder incident took place years back. But when the past secrets slowly unfolds, they slowly discover more death cases and troubles when someone from the present tries to hunt the team down, one-by-one, to not only prevent the reinvestigation of the case, but also to hold the reputation of being in power...with the help of an evil entity. So join this overwhelming journey if you're interested! ^^^^^^^^^^^ "I'll ask again, why are we doing this?" Allen asked with a hint of fear audible in her voice. "Because this is our job." Roy said casually while Ash took few deep breathes to calm down. "No." Rose started. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm doing this for the thrill."

It's upon a small word and how it changes our life. My views on how it works in my life. A journey to know everyone's views and to understand it little better.

The dreams and memories of our youth are often pale as watercolour and lost before having had the chance to be painted into colours more vivid and lasting. A defining property of water is to reflect. And so, like water, I reflect on the topics of love, loss, longing, healing, hope and the questions we ask ourselves as we cross the bridge between adolescence to adulthood. Like individuals coming of age, the poems in this collection straddle on the edge between naïve idealism and realism. Ultimately, these poems answer the most important question: during a time when everything around us, including ourselves, change how do we find ourselves and how do we make an impression that is bolder than any watercolour? *** Some quotes from this collection: Alice in the Wonderland of her Youth "I thought of my once-blooming youth. A youth as sweet as the nectar of a flower, But just as short-lived. It was a youth of pastel hues That seemed to have ended Before it could be put into hues more vivid." A Storm of Thoughts, A Residue of Memories " 'How would you describe yourself?' You once asked. 'As a vessel holding A storm of thoughts, A residue of memories' " Moth Dances "I watched as your wings beat against the winds, Stiffly, Rapidly, Like the persistent beating of a heart. You were dancing with the flickering light at the end of the street, It was broken, But so were you." *** Hope you fall in love with this developing collection - I have truly put lots of thought, time, and heart into it! Feel free to vote and comment on any of my poems - I would love to know of any parts that you relate to, any images that you find particularly striking, or any suggestions that you may have!

Outside of the Supercity called "Home", there isn't much to speak of. For a few miles, one can find churchs, and shops, amongst other services that are tolerated but not supported by the elite within the city walls. Beyond that, well, not too many people know what the rest of the world is like. Rarely do people return from the wilds. Criminals and unwanted, lesser people live close enough to the city to survive, but will never wander far. But there seems to be something out there. Something, someone, is making targets of those who manipulate the poor, and threaten and bully the weak. The rumors claim its children. But what kind of child could do these insane feats, which are whispered of under cover of one's home, never in the streets. Who are they after? Why has no one seen them? Many questions, and little obvious answers. Step inside, and watch it unfold.