I’m patiently waiting in silence, listening intently for the universe to return my existential questions. It’s early Monday morning, and just outside the window pane sits a cloud heavy sky with disastrous hues of grey and violet, and I’m in pain. It’s pointless and a little obscure, sitting in a dark room, my foot tapping

Marísol Hernandez was more than just a pretty girl, she was la hija de Gael Santiago Hernandez, el cocinero of the acclaimed Los Angeles restaurant Carmela’s. Like the Hispanic Gordon Ramsey of the culinary world, Gael raised Marísol to learn a multitude of harsh culinary techniques, which included more than a few nails being either

Ophelia sat in the darkness of her hollow room, the white sheets strewn wildly across her bed. A cold sweat dripped from the corner of her forehead, and slowly, she gulped. Her stomach ferociously growled, the edges of her eyes darkened and her glowing complexion faded to a ghostly, pale-white. She was not the girl