Blog Index

Hey, everybody!!!

I just want to give a big, warm welcome to all my new followers!! I really appreciate and love you all for choosing to follow my blog!😊 You all are automatically awesome for following me!! If you want to know more about my blog, I have finally figured out how to create an ‘About’ page (just haven’t gotten around to figuring out how to put it in the control bar alone the top of the blog next to ‘Home’) and you can check it out by clicking here.

Anyway, this isn’t a story post. I have gotten several followers of late – of which I just LOVE!!! – and decided it would probably be prudent to do an index post giving a guide for everyone to all of my posts for ease of navigation and all that.

And I will be constantly updating this post whenever I do a new post! And this will be from now on the featured post on this blog.

So, to all my new followers who want to start from the beginning – or if you have been following me for a while and just want to read some of my posts and can’t find them or whatever – read on!

YouTube Edition

So I wrote a short story piece called The Fire Within on my blog (this one right here) in my previous post I believe, and I really wanted to read it out loud, so I went and did a video recording of me reading it and then using CapCut uploaded it as just an audio and layered it over some photos and videos of myself I have because the story was inspired by my story and shit. I added a couple things in while reading it, stuff that I was initially hesitant to add in the written version in the previous post, so this is a slightly different version of the story, same stuff, just one or two added things.

I hope you enjoy, that it somehow helps someone. Hope the sound is okay, let me know if there are issues with it. Have a lovely day/night.

The Fire Within

(Photos by me)

For he set the spark, but she set it ablaze…

People will tell you that these are the same person.

But they’re not.

They may share the same name, the same date of birth, the same DNA, even.

But they are not the same.

The girl on the right of the photo collage grew up thinking she was worthless, a child of Satan. She could never please God and was destined for Hell. She was raised to believe that she had no voice, primarily because of being female, any thoughts or opinions that questioned her father and her religion were of the Devil because she was his and he came to tempt what was his and her thoughts therefore had to be shackled, repressed and held captive under the Name of her Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

She tried so hard to follow a Godly life, to deny herself and take up her cross, but she started to realise that she must have been continuing to do something terribly wrong because she was beginning to be touched in places she should never have been touched, especially at such a tender age. She must have sinned, and her sin must have been great to have really displeased God, so she didn’t deserve any help from anyone, at least that’s how her father berated her when she came begging him for safety and protection. And he was a self-proclaimed prophet and voice of God, so he had to be right, right?

Desperate cries and pleadings to God Himself, begging to know where she was angering the Almighty fell on deaf ears as the touching continued, accompanied by beatings, that varied in occurrence and frequency. She kept crying out, but her cries remained unheard and ignored, so she learnt to fall silent, be quiet, as their fists rained down on her. She must have done something so horribly unforgivable to not be answered, so why bother crying out?

She was sad, anxious, terrified to go to bed at night, of what awaited her along with being terrified to make a single mistake. She had no voice, she was trapped in her own home, she even also liked girls along with guys and sometimes questioned if she was actually meant to be a female, how much more could she possibly disappoint the Almighty who continued to ignore her? Death tempted her for a while. She felt foolish, dumb, was always told how lazy she was, was told by some people that she was possessed by the Devil and that Satan was using her to cause trouble amongst her own siblings, and God was so angry with her, that if she didn’t change, she would be destined to Hell. She was fat, could never eat the right amount, was called horrific names because of her eating habits, and was forced to starve herself.

But it was all in the name of God, according to her father, the prophet.

So, this woman was quiet, did as she was told. She was a good religious girl, never questioned her place in the dust where she was thrown down and so brutally trodden on, accepting whatever punishment her father said the Almighty brought down on her whenever God felt like it, being constantly reminded how much her father wanted them dead every day. The dust was all she knew, where she was constantly thrown, until it broke her to pieces. And she must have deserved that, too.


Then someone came into her life. Someone who was rough, a wannabe hermit and also, to be quite honest, crazy and just plain odd. He also came from like the opposite side of the world to her.

But there was something about him that made her start looking back on her life, made her question everything she believed about what was going on. This person showed her, without even realising he was doing it, the truth about the system that she was in; the truth about the torture, the abuse and lies, the manipulation that she was under and that was keeping her enslaved. They opened her eyes to what a horrible place she was in, and showed her that there was more, way more, to her and to everything, and that there was a way to find herself, her true self.

Without realising it, they had handed her the keys, they had handed her the match.

Desperate and curious, she took the keys, she took the inspiration and opened the door to find herself and took the first step. And then the next. And then the next and the next.

He made the spark, but she set it ablaze.

Each step she took forward was a battle. Storms, floods, thunder, blizzards, demons – they all came pouring out to stop her, to force her back. But with each determined inch forward, she peeled back little by little the layers of lies she had been forced to consume about herself. Little by little with each step she uncovered the light within her, the utter power within herself that she held that if she would only trust herself to take the reins and unleash it. And oh! the full and rich life she would have, the pathways she would forge, the utter divinity of her being that would blaze around, in and throughout her if she would only take it.

Alas, to do that was a hard lesson to learn. She wanted to jump straight in, but it was too overwhelming. She was utterly terrified for a while to step into it again, to own it, accept and harness her energy, to come into everything that she truly is, because what if? What if this wasn’t right? What if her father was right about her and what God wanted the whole time? What if she truly was ungrateful and rebellious and what if she didn’t deserve this goodness and potential that she was uncovering and displaying before herself?

This is a lesson that she learnt and relearnt many a time, through the assistance of that person. He helped her learn, he was there by her side, through every slip up, comforting her, helping her centre herself and retrace her steps whenever she would get lost, and doubtless she did indeed get lost. He helped to piece her back together, always reminding her of her worth and potential. Slowly, she learnt to accept and submit to this power within her, this energy, all the odd and controversial parts of herself, her true and uniquely powerful essence of being until it began to transform her. It shaped her, turned her into something new, her wings began to uncurl and come forth wide and eager and her crown emerging as she starts becoming whom she was truly meant to be, something that was horrifically stolen from her before she could even become aware of it.

If her transformation is complete, she could not tell you as she is not quite sure herself, but she now knows the path she must pursue on her quest. If it’s a path and quest that she will be pledged to for eternity, or just a starter until a new quest emerges, she cannot say. But her armour is fastened, her crown secure and her feet steady, so on this path she sets out, her light firm. No more father, no more religion, once quiet, scared and submissive, now loud and strong and passionate, completely shed of her old skin and has stepped into their new skin, with new labels and everything, the beautiful person that was originally intended when they were being created.

No matter what happens, no matter if she slips, she strives and fights to stay on the path she’s on, there is that one person always by their side fighting alongside them, always encouraging them to step into their power every single day, to help them when they can’t help themselves, walking alongside them. She has her true power, she has stepped into her being, she knows her own worth, and will fight as the queen she has realized she is.

She will never go back. Their power and light can only reach upwards.

For he set the spark, but her divinity set it ablaze.


All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

Word for Today: Inspire


Where does it come from?

It’s a beautiful thing. It speaks to us in so many subtle ways, that others may not understand. When we see a sunset, a flower, a gentle caress of the hand to comfort another. In a smile, a child running amuck (though then the inspiration is to kill).

Inspiration can be warm. It can come from the gentlest and most peaceful of places.

But it is not always so gentle and sweet.

Sometimes the things that inspire us are absolutely brutul.


It is rough. It is cold. It is merciless.

Tear you to shreds, poison you, drain you of colour. It leaves you in a pile of your own blood, screaming, tears and mucus leaving you in an utter mess as glass shreds slash you and fire burns all around you. There is no more air to breathe, smoke is all that you can see, smell, it’s clouding your mind as you slip away.

It is interesting, to say the least, what paths inspire in us from this. The inspiration may be draw closer to your pack (alternatively known as family or kin, but I prefer to use the term pack as it is currently helpful to my mental health), draw closer to friends. Some find it inspires going to religion. Others find it inspires leaving religion where inspiration of peace is also found.

Inspiration is beautiful. It is a broken, scarred mess. It is gentle. It is brutal. It is whatever form it needs to be to help you find your own true path, no matter what that path is.

To some onlookers, it might be a mystery, maybe a riddle, but it is ultimately a sign.



All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

Ticking Time Bomb

We were meant to be travelling uphill

But now we’re travelling down

Freedom for all

Oh, that’s just if you’re Christian, male and cis

Ah such bliss

Oh you’re a woman? Don’t follow our religion? You’re not straight?

To the fiery gates!

You must burn!

A piece of metal has more freedoms and rights

Stripping you of more rights is in our sights

We don’t even want to keep birth control

Cause that would be too sensible

Let’s make it impossible to prevent conception

And hope they still vote for us next election

And then there’s the rising tensions with that war

The UK making itself a dictatorship

We’re going to let our true selves slip

Out to the public eye and show them

We were the true villains all this time


All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

Abortion is necessary

I know this blog is for stories and poetry and shit, but I want to share this on here as well because it is important. Please read through the whole thing before commenting.


I know.

I’m changing a lot of my beliefs and some people will probably be rather concerned (some may be angry, such as some people that I know personally) by this, but please hear me out, okay?

I get that, as an ex-anti abortionist, the main reason it is argued against is because of the belief that the unborn baby/feotus/whatever label it is given, is a live or become a life and therefore has rights. I’ve seen the images of the unborn baby at different stages after abortion. I’ve watched the videos. I feel really saddened by it, I really do. I do have my thoughts on whether it is alive pre-birth or not.


I am not here to argue for or against that.

Cause that is beside the point, and irrelevant.

Yes, you read that right.

It is not about that at all.

No-one supports abortion simply because…

View original post 788 more words

Sunshine Blogger Award

Hey everyone,

So this and it was an open nomination, so I decided to answer it, but I answered it in video form and uploaded it to YouTube to do something different, so I hope you enjoy!

My questions are also in the video as well, it is an open nomination. Hope you guys have a lovely day/night 🙂

The Havsågud Cell – Part 12

If you want to read the previous chapters whether you’re new or just want to reread, you can find them by clicking on this link:


Hope you enjoy this chapter! 🙂

“Mmm,” he murmured to himself as he licked the last remains of her pupil from his fingernail. It tasted oddly like how humans normally tasted, he had thought she was just a lab creation, she would be different. But she was a mimic of humans after all, so maybe that’s why the taste was the same.

He glanced down at the remainder of it’s corpse, blood leaking out from her eye socket. Well, technically not real blood, but technicalities, and all. Glancing up at the guard, he smirked when he saw that the guard was still keeping its head bowed, not making eye contact.

“Clean this up and then go get the one that’s monitoring Unit #456.”

“Yes, sir.”



Persimmons glanced over her shoulder as she simultaneously scooped up her papers and raised her eyebrow a little when she saw it was Darren who was speaking to her.

“Yes, sir?” she asked as she turned to him.

He glanced around as everyone collected their stuff and began piling out of the room now that the meeting was over and then stepped a little closer.

“You got a good point about looking into the Gerald name,” he said, his voice low. “It’s going to be tough to get the authorization, but if I get it, I’m going to ask for you to lead the investigation into the Gerald side of things.”

Wait, what?

“M-me?” There was no way. “I-I’m just…new, why me?” Persimmons found herself pulling her papers closer to her chest. She was clearly thrown off and it was such a sudden thing. Plus, she surely wasn’t qualified for it. There had to be a mistake.

And why do I have to stutter when I’m nervous and thrown off? Geez, that’s so unprofessional.

“You got potential. You all do. But…no, I want you. Will you do that for me if I can get the authorization?”

Breathe. You’re getting a break here. This will be good. Great work. Probably a little extra pay, maybe? God knows that I need that for my rent…

“Y-yes, sir, I will.”

Darren smiled and patted her shoulder. “Good, good, thank you,” he responded, and he seemed genuinely grateful for her co-operation in this matter. Hmm. “I’ll see you around,” and with that, he followed everyone else out of the room.

What the fuck??? What did I do to get this????


The lady that was watching Lucy leaned back in her chair, fingers wrapped tightly around a coffee mug. It was hot, and was scalding to hold, but she didn’t care. Her eyes remained glued to the…the…thing half-submerged before her.

No doubt her own face was pale.

“Thing” was a little too objectifying for the poor girl.

And she wasn’t exactly a human, so maybe girl didn’t apply. Well, not totally human anymore. Top half definitely was, but the bottom half? What was that?

Damn, this job sucks.

There was a hiss as the doors behind her slid open. Turning around, she saw the boss’ office guard standing there.

“He wants you.”

Oh…I wonder why?

“I’m coming.”


All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

Photo Time

Haven’t done this in over a month, so figured it was time to share more recent photos of me! Enjoy 💜💙💓🖤💚❤️

taken today on a walk, absolute latest photo of me
Also taken today, same walk

the next few were taken this past Saturday where I went to my first pride event 🏳️‍🌈💜💙💕😘

Racheal’s Podcast Episode 8

Hey everyone!

Welcome to another episode of my podcast! This is the first episode of season 2! Season 2 is all about my poetry!!! Whoo-hoo!!!

Thank you for listening, welcome to the start of season 2 of my podcast, where this season we’ll be looking at all things poetry (done by moi, of course XD) This first episode is looking at the first poem I ever published on my blog, titled Do You Even Care? It’s about mental health and depression and suicidal feelings, so proceed with caution. It was written to try and express things that I didn’t know how to express cause I didn’t understand things going on with me personally during that time in my life. Also, please reach out if you’re going through this, I’m here to listen, but I also know that that’s a difficult thing, so if you’re reading this and anything I say in the poem resonates with you: I’m so sorry. I love you, I hear and see you and know that I care about you and I’m proud that you’ve made it this far and I hope you make it further, you got this 3>

(If I sound weird or anything while reading this out, it was difficult to read this one out loud cause it’s very personal and I was starting to feel a lot of emotions come up and I instinctively was battling to suppress them, sorry about that)


Come rain come all

When it rains, I don’t shy away

I run out and play

Spread my arms out wide

Face towards the sky

Let the rain pour on my face

Hardly or softly, whatever the pace

Mouth open to catch the water

The cold never causing me to falter

Because the cold feels good

I feel like I’m really myself in the rain and cold

Getting soaked, finally feeling calm, finally at rest

Like I’m finally in a warm cozy nest