Love Notes

Ever since I was little, I believed in Valentine’s Day miracles, bouquets tied in satin ribbon, a boy standing under fairy lights, a soft, shy “Will you be mine?” That dream followed me to college, tucked between lab reports and late-night ramen. And, somewhere along the way, it began wearing Jake Morrison’s face.

Jake was the captain of the football team. Golden boy, effortless charm, the kind of smile that made entire bleachers lean forward. Tonight, he’d just scored the winning goal. The crowd roared as he looked up into the stands.

At me.

He didn’t wave exactly, just lifted his fingers slightly, but it was enough to send heat rushing to my cheeks.

Beside me, Maddy snorted. “You’re hopeless.”

I didn’t bother looking at her, which was difficult considering she was my roommate, my childhood best friend, and Jake’s twin sister. There was no escaping that level of built-in surveillance.

That night, I checked the hostel mailboxes while pretending I wasn’t replaying Jake’s almost-wave in my head. Being a chemical biomedical engineering student sounds glamorous; in reality, it means sending twenty emails to research labs and getting ghosted by all of them. I usually joke that I like brewing potions.

The truth is, I love reactions, precision, timing, the razor-thin line between healing and harm. Love potions and poisons are chemically closer than people think.

As I sorted through the usual stack of junk mail, my fingers brushed against something thicker.

A pale blush envelope.

On the front, written in careful black ink, was a single letter: R.

Not Becca. Not Rebecca. Just R.

My pulse stumbled. I slipped the envelope into my bag before Maddy could notice and waited until she was asleep to open it.

Inside, the message was written neatly, almost deliberately:

Your smile untangles my worst days.
Your laugh quiets every storm I face.
If courage ever chooses me,
I’ll ask you for one dance at the Dead Dance.

The words made the room feel colder.

Dead Dance?

Jake wasn’t poetic. He was charming, goofy, spontaneous, but not measured like this. And why address me only as “R”? Still, he had looked at me that afternoon. Maybe this was his awkward attempt at subtlety.

I pressed the letter to my chest and let myself imagine fairy lights and satin ribbons.

 

 

The next morning, I found another note under the dorm’s door

 

You hide in crowds. But I see you. Wanting to ask you out.

 

My breath hitched.

 

 

Another note appeared in my hoodie pocket later that day.

You tap your pen when you’re nervous.

That was specific.

 

 

By afternoon, another note had slipped into my lab notebook.

 

You always sit near the aisle. Like you’re ready to leave.

 

 

Jake had never been in my chem lectures.

More notes followed between planner pages, inside my bag, even on my lunch tray. None mentioned the Dead Dance. None were signed. All addressed simply to “R.”

 

When I showed one to Maddy, she squealed. “Oh my God. It’s finally happening.”

 

“Maybe it’s Jake,” I said carefully.

 

She grinned. “He’s been weirdly secretive.”

The word secretive should have unsettled me. Instead, I chose to interpret it as romantic.

 

That evening, a final pink envelope waited inside my mailbox. The handwriting matched the first letter.

Some nights are meant to be remembered.
Some are meant to change everything.
Tonight will do both.
Dead Dance. 10 PM.

 

The earlier notes had felt warm. This one felt colder, as though something beneath the sweetness had sharpened. I told myself I was overthinking it, the hazard of having a chemistry brain trained to look for toxins.

 

Maddy squeezed my hands. “Go. If it’s Jake, you’ll regret missing it.”

 

If it wasn’t, I needed answers.

 

The banquet hall sat at the edge of town, long abandoned. Red streamers drooped from cracked chandeliers, and fairy lights flickered like dying stars. The music pulsed too loudly against peeling walls. This wasn’t satin ribbons and romance; it felt staged, theatrical, almost feverish.

 

Maddy disappeared into the crowd almost instantly. I hate crowds. My chest tightened, and I slipped toward the bathrooms to breathe.

 

That’s when I heard the door slam.

 

A girl stumbled against the sink, pale and trembling. Her pupils were blown wide, her hands shaking violently. This wasn’t alcohol. Her breathing was shallow and irregular.

My mind shifted into clinical focus. “Hey,” I said, gripping her shoulders. “What did you drink?”

Her words dissolved into the air.

Then I smelled it, faint but unmistakable. The bitter taste wafted around her mouth.

Cyanide.

My stomach dropped, but my hands stayed steady. I forced water between her lips, tilted her forward, and kept her conscious while dialling emergency services.

Her bag spilt open across the tile floor. Pink envelopes scattered everywhere.

All addressed to: R.

I grabbed one.

If you can’t be mine, you won’t be anyone’s.

 

Another read:

Tonight we drink together. Like the lovers before us. Forever is better than goodbye.

 

Ice flooded my veins. This wasn’t romance; this was obsession.

 

Sirens sliced through the music, and chaos erupted as paramedics rushed in. The girl Rosie, according to her ID, was loaded into the ambulance. Alive, but barely.

Police later confirmed the drinks had been selectively spiked. Targeted. Rosie had been lured by escalating love letters in a planned murder-suicide. Her obsessive boyfriend intended to drink alongside her. “Like the lovers before us.”

The letters about the Dead Dance had been misdelivered.

 

My knees nearly gave out. I hadn’t been the intended recipient. I had opened the wrong envelope.

 

Maddy hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I’m so sorry. I thought those notes were from Jake.”

Jake stepped forward, pale. “I wrote one,” he admitted quietly.

“One?” My voice felt thin.

“The ‘You hide in crowds, but I see you’ one. I didn’t know how to just… ask you.”

The air shifted.

“That was you?”

He nodded.

I replayed every note in my head. The Dead Dance invitation was dramatic and deliberate. The sweet observational ones were warm and attentive.

Different ink tones. Different pressure. Different slants.

Three handwritings. Three intentions.

Jake had written one. Rosie’s boyfriend had written many. Two of them got misdelivered to me.

 

But the others, the pen tapping, the aisle seat, the nervous habits. Those weren’t Jake’s.

 

He blinked. “Wait. There were more?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I felt something slip from my purse, a final pink envelope I didn’t remember placing there.

The handwriting was neither Jake’s nor rigid like the obsessive one. It looped softly, with a slight ink smudge at the corner.

 

I never meant to scare you.
I just didn’t know how else to say it.
I hope you figure it out.
— The right guy.

 

My pulse thundered.

Someone had been watching, not obsessively, not violently, just quietly.

 

Jake shifted beside me. “Coffee tomorrow?” he asked gently. “In daylight. No sketchy murder parties.”

 

I looked at him, golden boy, honest eyes, the safe choice.

And somewhere on campus, someone else knew I tapped my pen when I was nervous.

 

I folded the note carefully and slipped it back into my purse.

“Coffee sounds perfect,” I told Jake.

 

But for the first time in my life, fairy lights didn’t feel like the most interesting option.

And as I walked back through the dim campus corridors, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the story wasn’t over yet.

 

Happy Valentine’s week, dear readers. Hope you had a lovely week, unlike Rebbeca here. The above was another extract from my upcoming novel ‘Mirror Me.’ All your comments and suggestions are welcome. I would take them in to make my novel a wonderful reading experience for you all.

 

The Preview

 

                                     

My bare feet pounded on the wooden floor as I sped down the dark hallway.

Tonight, it was a full moon night, but the glow was blocked by the black, heavy curtains on every window. The corridors seemed to suppress and close in on me, trying to stop me from running away.

The old grandfather clock in the lounge was audible even on a floor above. It was as if it was ticking down the seconds before my death.

I tried to quieten my breath. I cannot give away my location. He must not know that I am aware of him. I tried to clear my mind, but my lungs were having trouble taking in clear breaths. My heart thumped so loudly that I just knew I would give my location away in a second.

I reached the end of the corridor and started up the stairs. They creaked under my weight, and I chewed on my lips nervously. Hoping against hope that he would not hear me. Would not come after me.

I tried to keep my mind empty, pushing back my thoughts and fears. I could not let my thoughts cloud my judgment. He sensed my thoughts. He would find me.

I was now on the second floor. It had all the locked doors. Each hiding a sinister secret. Each holding back a monster, too terrible to be set free.

Except for the last door. Which stood open its dark mouth, gaping at me and laughing at our foolish decision to put its demon loose.

It was no use, I knew I could not stay in this hallway. I was remembering things. It was all coming back, and as soon as I remembered how we had opened this door last week, I could hear him moving up the stairs. He knew I saw him. He was coming after me.

I turned around to look at the ceiling. This was the only way now. I had to face my fears. I was not only doing it for myself, but also for my brother. He was counting on me. I cannot let him down. Not again, I cannot lose him, too.

I locate the door to the attic and jump to grab the hook. The stairs spilled out. Before they could hit the floor, I caught them and bit my lips to hold in the gasp of anguish. He was still on the first floor. Banging doors trying to find me. I had to get out of here.

I started to climb up the ladder, its old rungs rickety and squeaky. Right when I was inches away, the rung came loose and fell onto the floor with a loud clatter. He was thundering up the stairs. I panicked, and pure fear coursed through my veins as I pulled myself up the attic and shut the trap door.

I slid a heavy box on it and sat against it. I could hear him pacing angrily, muttering, and talking to himself. I try to breathe in as I shut my eyes. Tears pricked my eyes, but they did not pour out. I cannot cry. I refuse to allow myself to be weak.

“You are weak.” My father's voice pierces through my memories. My heart beat anxiously as I slipped into another memory. My father was training me to fight. But I had fallen again. My brother was helping me up, but my father just pushed him away.

“What are you, a weakling? How dare you fall again? Why can’t you be strong? Did that ugly face damage your brain, too? You are nothing like your brother.” I looked over at my brother. His terrified eyes stayed towards the floor. He used to tease me and pull my leg, but we both knew who the real bully was. He stayed at home and had a wild temper.

I was so scared that day. I thought nothing could make me more afraid than my dad, but remembering this monster's cruel smile. I am terrified of him. Because I cannot escape him, he was the ultimate demon because he was my reflection that wanted to leave the mirror dimension.

The words beat against my head, “Your reflection looks like you, acts like you, smiles like you, but what if it wants to be you?”

He will kill my brother after he takes my place.

But I can stop him; my dad was wrong, and I am not weak. I know my strengths. I can stand up to him. I reach the window and push aside the heavy covers.

Outside, the moon shone brightly. It was being reflected on the glass, and so was my pale face. But it was not me.  I shut my eyes and pushed the window open.

A cold wind blew against my face, but the chill that crept up my heart was more intense. That creepy smile, he knew I was here. And I could hear him pounding on the trap door. He would be breaking in anytime. I pushed myself over the roof. The snow-laden roof was another level of torture for my bare feet. I grit my teeth as I start to move on the ledge.

I knew I had to jump. It would be an easy landing. It had been snowing for a week now, and I could jump; it would be as soft as a trampoline. I could never have prepared myself to jump, but the old stilts had carried my weight for a long time, then they could stay on, so they slipped, and I fell down screaming.

My glasses knocked off my face as I lay in the snow, my breath knocked out of me; it had not been that soft a landing anyway. He looked down at me from the window. I could not see his face, but I knew he was grinning wickedly. He wanted me, and he will take me. I had to run. I had to get away from him.

As a cloud covered the moon and darkness fell around me, the hair on my neck prickled as I realised that I could not really escape him. He would follow me.

I had to go back and face the Mirror Me.

----------------------------------------------- ---------*-------------------------------------------------------------------

Mirror Me is my upcoming novel to be released by the end of this year. This was an extract from the novel. Stay tuned for more updates. Your comments will help me better shape this novel. Thank you for being my OG readers. 

The Curious Case of Centennial Park

Imagine a beautiful weekend morning, you wake up early and decide to go to Centennial Park. Well, this is indeed a wild imagination. Why would you or anyone be interested in going to a park when you can go to the beach? But what if I told you that Centennial Park has many mysteries surrounding it? Sir Henry Parks would be delighted to see young explorers setting foot on the place he envisioned to be ‘People’s Park’ [7, p. 172]. Is the park all about walking or trees? Not really; it holds stories in multiple statues scattered around, as well as in the water bodies present throughout. If you're looking for a shortcut and are hesitant to explore the 220 hectares [2], you can test your knowledge with this quiz, and maybe be intrigued to verify all the answers yourself: https://youtube.com/shorts/H-CJIgteMiQ?si=l4f0ngDe7GZemaft

So, if you have got on your comfortable footwear and are ready for a hike, let's dive in to solve the case.

Map on the iZi Travel app [3]

Centennial Park is the largest park in southern Australia, spanning an area equivalent to 315 football fields. It was one of the first places for Sydney’s general public to come and connect with nature. You can have a 9.3 km run on the Strava App if you actually manage to cover all the paths in the park [2]. The Grand Drive in itself is a long loop of around 3.6 km, and the rest of the rails branch out from it [4]. All these inner trails will guide you to various sections of the park, unlocking beautiful ponds along the way.

The park features eleven interconnected ponds. All these ponds are fed by rainwater except the Lily Pond. A secret underground water reserve from Lachlan Swamp fills this beautiful pond. Lachlan Swamp is a remnant of a freshwater wetland in Sydney. It is 1.5 hectares long and is hidden in the Botany Sand Aquifer’s northern margin. Historically, this swamp became the reason the colonists didn’t die of thirst, as it was their second most used water supply between 1820 and 1852 [5].

 

Ash Paddock became a dumping ground for the Ash generated from the coal-fueled pumping station. This pumping station was responsible for supplying all the water in the 1800s [7, p. 22].

Lachlan Swamp [6]

 

Throughout the park, you are likely to notice many trees. Centennial Parklands have approximately 15,000 to 16,000 trees. They cover more than 230 species, including various figs, oaks, pines, and eucalyptus trees [9]. Moore Park has 4,000 trees, and Queens Park holds 490 trees [10].

Confused on why you see the Centennial Parklands sign even if you are not visiting the Centennial Park, that’s because the Moore Park and Queens Park also fall under the jurisdiction of Centennial Parklands [11].

 

Many Trails of the Park

All the park’s tracks were historically paths made by Aboriginal people. It was once a grazing land of the Gadigal people. Members of the first fleet, on arrival, walked down Oxford Street to observe approaching vessels. Frenchman’s Road became the colonists' route to bring things up to their base camp at Sydney Cove and La Perouse’s camp at Botany [2].  

However, both the camp settlers were excited to explore the upper northern reaches of Botany Basin, which later became Centennial Park. Governor Macquarie was the first person to set about defining the park’s boundary in 1811. Centennial Park was not a natural park; it was a carefully planned-out ‘natural’ space created by man. Thousands of unemployed men around Sydney were appointed to construct this park [12, p. 1-2].

The colonists realised that the park could be an integral part of a water reservoir. They began using the Lachlan swamp, and soon it was being exhausted.

Busby's Pond

That’s when John Busby was hired to construct an underground tunnel to transport water from Centennial Park Reserve to Hyde Park, thereby allocating resources efficiently. However, Busby was a lazy guy and earned the title of “Great Bore” for taking so much time to complete the task. The green bans in the 1970s were established to save parts of this Building from demolition [7, pp. 16-18]. 

 

There was even a plan to set up a cemetery at Moore Park in the 1840s. However, religious claims stated that the water here was contaminated, and hence it was rejected as a burial site [12, pp. 43-44]. Fortunately, otherwise our mystery story would have turned into a horror story with a cemetery involved.

 

Centennial Park was opened to the General Public in 1888. It was a tribute to the 100 years of the colony. Sir Henry Parks was the man with this vision of People’s Park. He wanted to make it a ‘lung place’, a site for inhaling clean air in the bustling city [7, p. 40].

 

The park has even become home to many sculptures over the course of its history. The statue of Sir Henry Parks was the last statue to be placed in 1897. By the 1920s, vandalism attacks on the statues began.  By 1974, all 31 statues had been destroyed. The restoration process of the statues began in 1988 [8].

Charles Dickens Statue

There is, however, an interesting case of a particular statue that has given rise to an entire drive named after it in the park, the Dickens Drive. It is named after the beloved children's author Charles Dickens. He made a curse before his death that no statue of him should ever be made to commemorate him. Centennial Park was lucky to secure one of the world’s only three Charles Dickens Statues. But the Dickens curse held firm, and the statue broke immediately upon installation. It was then stolen, but was finally restored in the late twentieth century at the head of Dickens Drive [3]. If you are lucky, the statue might still be there; otherwise, you'll have to look for it again.

In the early 1900s, the park was considered the haunt of the elite class, and people from the eastern suburbs were more frequently seen there. It had all the things rich people engaged in, such as golf and cricket. Fly casting contests also took place in the Park in the 1900s. An entire lake was named the Fly-Casting Lake after these lively contests [13].

Now, some of you may be a bit wary of all these ponds and lakes and thinking about the deadly mosquitoes. Surprisingly, the mosquito bite rates in the park are low. They are primarily active during dusk and dawn in the summer months. The park is very well maintained in terms of health standards and cleanliness levels [14].

The Park witnessed the effects of both World Wars. The First World War led to a decline in park maintenance. It lost its appeal and public attention during the tense times and fell into disarray. The Second World War converted the park into an Army base camp [2].

By the 1950s, people were back to protesting for the freedom of their park. A controversial matter arose in the 1960s that involved sports. Imagine a fight between the nerds and jocks at school. Well, the scenario was similar when sports enthusiasts started demanding more areas of the park for their activities. A Works Committee, formed in response to all that political pressure, decided to designate specific areas for sports [2].

However, matters really heated up when the Australian Olympic Committee came in 1974 to request a considerable piece of land to host the Olympics. However, this decision was later overturned following numerous protests. The 2000 Summer Olympics successfully hosted marathons and cycling races that were accepted by everyone in a peaceful manner [15].

The park is famous for its Sydney Cricket Ground, which opened in 1848, and the football stadium, which opened in 1988. These two sporting complexes attract several sports fans for various events. Maybe you have hopped onto the L2 Light Rail to see a match here yourself.

Sydney Cricket Ground [16]

Currently, you can find a variety of wonderful activities and opportunities on the park's website [17]. May it be the multiple playgrounds in the park where you can skate or hang out with your friends, or horse-riding lessons you may be interested in taking part in. Centennial Park is also home to a lot of birds and bats, and you can join the volunteering groups to gain some astonishing facts.

Scarily cute Flying Fox [18]

There is even a special challenge for boys. According to a bat specialist I met on one of the bat surveys here, men are often unable to bear the smell of bats. Are you brave enough to face some of the famous flying foxes of the park, or does their cuteness scare you? 

 

In 2023, the State government decided to reduce the park golf course from 18 holes to 9 holes. To make more free space for a growing population. The golfing advocacy group started a petition to save the golf course. This demonstrates that even now, Sir Henry Park's vision remains true. It is still very much a people’s park. A green space that everyone feels connected to and has a say in shaping and developing [19].

Over the years, research on the park has undergone significant evolution. Earlier secondary sources mainly focused on the park's history. Many of them provided detailed descriptions of the inauguration ceremony. The Federation Pavilion, built in 1901 [2], was used to inaugurate the Commonwealth of Australia. Then, later articles focused on the park's great waterways.

Federation Pavilion Inauguration [20]

I was sad to note that the flora and Fauna of the park have just been captured in plain annual NSW reports [10]. Also, there is less mention of the park’s statues and their unique stories. In fact, many park workers have reported forgetting the names of the statues over the years [8, p.136].

However, there is one person who might have covered many aspects of the park. Professor Paul Ashton might have just cracked the case of the Centennial Park's secrets by writing multiple blogs and even a book on the park [2, 7].

Recent research has focused on the carbon emissions project and other scientific initiatives that can contribute to the park's efforts. The Centennial Parklands website is a modern initiative to map all the activities taking place in the park. This is a great site to explore when planning a trip to the park. They currently have an excellent Labyrinth to explore on the first Sunday of each month [17].

The park is a popular destination for families to enjoy picnics and gatherings. Corporations organise marathons and social events for their employees here. Sporting clubs and groups are scattered around the perimeter of the park.

Recently, the park has become a bridge between different sectors of society. Its current redevelopment plan is taking suggestions from the public [21]. Like the Golfing group, you also had the chance to put your ideas into place until November 24, 2025. The redevelopment by 2026 will reflect the people’s ideas and aspirations.

The park has become a major recreational and fitness destination. Runners love to take laps around the grand drive. One of the recent park social events is the Moonlight Cinema, an incredible experience that allows you to watch movies in an open space under the stars. It features multiple cafes and picnic spots, making it the perfect destination for a family getaway over the weekend.

 

As you walk along the path, I want you to think of the Aboriginal community that paved the way when it was swampy land. Then, the necessity of the colonists to come together and clear out this space to create lakes that would collect rainwater. As the technology of borewell tunnels advanced, the reservoirs became a bigger project. This led to multiple paths growing around these lakes. Over the years, people have come together to plant a tree in memory of their loved ones. It evolved to be a park for everyone.

The old trees of the park, which stand tall even after all these years, are a testament to its enduring legacy, one that will continue to shape the future of Sydney by being an integral part of Sydney’s heart forever. I hope that you, too, go to find all this history in the park and see all these pictures in real life.

History is best learned out of the textbook after all. 

Reading the book in the Park

Bibliography

1.       Centennial Park & Moore Park Trust. 1998. Into the Twenty-First Century : Centennial Parklands : Plan of Management. Paddington, N.S.W: Centennial Park and Moore Park Trust, p. 10.

2.       Ashton, Paul. "Centennial Park." Dictionary of Sydney. Dictionary of Sydney Trust, 2008. https://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/centennial_park.

3.       Centennial Park. “Centennial Park – History Walking Tour”. iZi TRAVEL app.

4.       Randwick City Council. “Centennial Park Ponds and Perimeter Loop.” Last modified June 2025. https://www.randwick.nsw.gov.au/about-us/news/news-items/2025/june/centennial-park-ponds-and-perimeter-loop.

5.       Hamilton, Rebecca, Josephine Gillespie, Dan Penny, Shane Ingrey, and Scott Mooney. “Re-imagining Sydney’s Freshwater Wetlands through Historical Ecology.” Landscape Research 49, no. 2 (2024): 268–286. https://doi.org/10.1080/01426397.2023.2271421. p. 268- 271.

6.       New South Wales Government. "Lachlan Swamp." https://www.nsw.gov.au/visiting-and-exploring-nsw/locations-and-attractions/lachlan-swamp.

7.     Ashton, Paul, Kate Blackmore, Armanda Scorrano, Rosalia Catalano, and Christine Shergold. 2013. Centennial Park : The ’people’s Park’ : A History. Ultimo, New South Wales: Halstead Press.

8.     Wilson, Edwin, and Sydney Royal Botanic Gardens. 1992. The Wishing Tree : A Guide to Memorial Trees, Statues, Fountains, Etc. in the Royal Botanic Gardens, Domain, and Centennial Park, Sydney. Kenthurst, N.S.W: Kangaroo Press in association with the Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney pp. 135- 136.

9.       Centennial Parklands. “Pete’s Top 10 Tree Trail.” Last modified 2019. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/stories/2019/pete-s-top-10-tree-trail.

10.   NSW Government, Centennial Park and Moore Park Trust, Annual Report 2021–22 (Sydney: Greater Sydney Parklands, 2022), p. 11

11.   Hoskins, Ian. “The Core of the City: Public Parks, Respectability and Civic Regulation in Sydney.” National Identities 5, no. 1 (2003): 7–24, p. 8

12.   Ross, John W. The History of Moore Park, Sydney. Surry Hills, Sydney, March 2018.

13.   Centennial Parklands. “Visit - Centennial Parklands - Origins of names.” https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/visit/history-and-heritage/origins-of-names

14.   Webb, C E, and R C Russell. “Mosquitoes of Centennial Park, Sydney.” General and Applied Entomology: The Journal of the Entomological Society of New South Wales 37 (2008): 31–33. https://search.informit.org/doi/10.3316/informit.235152227694215 pp. 15- 16.

15.   Sahni, Neera. “Sydney Olympics 2000 - Venues.” City of Parramatta, 2020. https://historyandheritage.cityofparramatta.nsw.gov.au/research-topics/events/sydney-olympics-2000-venues

16.   Sydney Cricket Ground. “Cricket Season: Private Suites.” https://www.sydneycricketground.com.au/sydney_cricket_ground_cricket_official_hospitality

17.   Centennial Parklands. “Official site of Centennial Parklands.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/

18.   Centennial Parklands. “Seven Things to Love about Flying Foxes.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/stories/2019/seven-things-to-love-about-flying-foxes

19.   Coverage from Sky News, via the The Australian: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/breaking-news/golf-collective-pitches-plan-to-transform-sydneys-moore-park-south/news-story/6eb76422bb4d54ab1f8c5495480a3dd0

20.   Dictionary of Sydney. “Inauguration of the Commonwealth celebrations Centennial Park 1901.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://dictionaryofsydney.org/event/inauguration_of_the_commonwealth_celebrations_centennial_park_1901

21.   Centennial Parklands. “The future of Moore Park South - Centennial Parklands.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/mooreparksouth

The Top 10 Scariest Dinosaurs

I have been fascinated by wildlife ever since I was a little kid. Even the slimy, creepy creatures always had a special place in my heart. I loved watching all the documentaries, animated movies, and of course, anything related to Jurassic Park. Who doesn’t get fascinated by the giant lizards of the past? As a child, some dinosaurs genuinely terrified me. But as I grew older, I learned something shocking: the dinosaurs in college are far more terrifying than any Tyrannosaurus Rex could ever be. The stress, pressure, and emotional rollercoaster of student life create monsters that stomp around unchecked, roaring louder than anything from the Jurassic period.

So here it is: the list of the Top 10 Scariest Dinosaurs – College Edition, creatures we have all encountered at some point in our academic journey.

 

10.) Angertaur

Starting strong, we meet Angertaur: a fiery, wild creature with smoke blowing out of its nostrils and rage simmering just below the surface. After years of teenage tantrums, the 20s hit differently. Too old to blame it on hormones, too young to master meditation, and too stressed to stay calm. Angertaur is always waiting to break free.

Angertaur erupts in many forms: long, angry rants, emotional eating, crying into pillows, punching walls, or venting your problems to someone you trust. The creature feeds on frustration—deadlines piling up, group projects gone wrong, unfair grading, or simply the build-up of everything unsaid. Although releasing anger sometimes feels good, Angertaur often leaves behind exhaustion, guilt, and headaches strong enough to shake the ground.

 

9.) Envysaur

Right on Angertaur’s heels is Envysaur, small but dangerously sharp. It is not loud or physically intimidating, but it attacks silently, gripping your heart until it aches. Envy appears when someone posts a placement offer, cracks a competitive exam, earns a scholarship, or seems to have their life together while you are lost in chaos.

Everyone is struggling, and yet when someone else succeeds, a painful pang whispers:
Why them? Why not me?

Envysaur hides behind forced smiles and polite congratulations, but the eyes never lie, burning slightly with comparison and insecurity. It lures students into believing that their worth is measured against someone else’s timeline. What makes Envysaur especially terrifying is that it makes us forget our own strengths, convincing us that success is a competition rather than a journey.

 

8.) Doubtosaur

Envy’s cousin, Doubtosaur, is much bigger and heavier. He is a vegetarian. He doesn’t chew you apart, but his sheer weight crushes dreams and confidence. Doubting our potential is a daily routine in college. Whether it’s exam scores, placements, body image, relationships, creativity, or career choices, Doubtosaur sits on our chest whispering:

Am I even good enough? Was choosing this field a mistake? What if I never make it?

Self-doubt is like quicksand; the more you struggle, the deeper you sink. It ruins productivity, prevents us from giving our best, and traps us inside a cycle of negative thinking. Instead of learning from challenges, we freeze. Even worse, Doubtosaur convinces us that everyone else is more talented, confident, and booming, even when that isn’t true.

 

7.) Failosaur

The massive Failosaur often gives birth to Doubtosaur. Fear of failure is perhaps the deadliest enemy a college student faces. Failosaur stops us from applying for internships, taking risks, auditioning, leading events, or trying anything outside our comfort zone. It makes opportunities appear like traps and convinces us that attempting is dangerous.

Failosaur stands at the door of growth, roaring:

What if you fail? What if you embarrass yourself?

We forget the role of luck, timing, and resilience. We forget that failing once does not define us. Many students abandon incredible opportunities simply because they assume they will fail before even trying. The truth is, Failosaur can only be defeated by facing it, not running away.

 

6.) Examosaur

Failosaur introduces the most recognisable dinosaur of all: Examosaur. Towering, terrifying, and extremely powerful, it guards the gates to academic success. If college life were a video game, Examosaur would be the final boss at the end of every semester.

Sitting in the exam hall feels like being trapped inside a dinosaur’s jaws. Formulas disappearing, hands trembling, heart racing, panic rising like a tidal wave. Exams turn passion into pressure. Subjects that once fascinated us become painful burdens. Instead of learning, we cram. Instead of curiosity, we fear consequences. Examosaur eats away sleep, peace, and appetite and leaves behind anxiety so heavy that it rattles bones.

 

5.) Wamaptor

If you survive Examosaur, you still have to face the swift and ruthless Wamaptor: the creature responsible for GPA or CGPA drops. It is fast, cruel, and unforgiving. One bad exam can drag down an entire semester. Months of hard work feel wasted, replaced with a small number on a result sheet that suddenly defines your worth.

Wamaptor doesn’t care about growth, discipline, or knowledge. It only cares about numbers. It leaves students questioning whether anything they did was enough. Watching grades plummet is painful, primarily when parents and society treat marks as a reflection of one's identity. Wamaptor haunts transcripts like a permanent scar.

 

4.) Jobitaur

Naturally, Wamaptor leads us to Jobitaur, guardian of placements and the destroyer of peace. Standing tall on piles of money bags, Jobitaur looks intimidating with enormous claws representing competition, rejections, endless interviews, resumes, aptitude tests, and corporate expectations.

The pressure to secure a job, earn financially, and prove oneself to the world makes Jobitaur a nightmare. Every rejection feels like a bite, every failed interview like a tail whip. Students feel trapped, fighting for survival in a battlefield full of equally determined warriors. The fear of an uncertain future gnaws at the soul.

 

3.) Uglytaur

Wandering in the swamp of insecurity is Uglytaur, the dinosaur of self-image. It appears when clothes don’t fit the same anymore, when acne refuses to leave even in your twenties, and when comparing yourself to polished social media pictures becomes a habit. Uglytaur whispers that you’re not attractive, not worthy, not enough.

It convinces students that maybe everything bad happening in their life is because of their appearance. It drains confidence, making even stepping outside feel exhausting. Uglytaur feeds on insecurities until you begin to believe them.

 

2.) Lonosaur

Second on the list is Lonosaur, the monster of isolation. It divides and conquers. People might surround you and still feel painfully alone. Group dynamics shift, friendships fade, schedules don’t match, roommates grow distant, and suddenly you feel like you have no one who truly understands you.

Lonosaur attacks in silent nights, in empty cafeterias, in birthdays spent unnoticed. It whispers that nobody cares, that everyone else has someone, that you are forgotten. It feeds on separation, turning solitude into suffering.

 

1.) Stressosaur

And finally, the alpha predator: Stressosaur. Every other dinosaur eventually evolves into Stressosaur. Exams, career fears, relationships, deadlines, finances, family expectations, health issues, loss, and pressure to succeed can all become sources of stress if left unchecked. Stressosaur breathes anxiety, its footsteps shake mental peace, and its roar echoes through the mind day and night.

It consumes sleep, appetite, motivation, creativity, and joy. Stressosaur rules modern college ecosystems with terrifying dominance.

 

Now you might wonder? How does the movie end? How do I escape these dinosaurs? The truth is, these dinosaurs will always exist. College is a challenging jungle, and nobody gets through it without scars. But these creatures are not undefeatable. Every student carries hidden weapons, such as support, courage, hope, patience, resilience, friendship, and self-love.

The dinosaurs seem powerful because they live in silence and shadows. The moment we confront them, their size begins to shrink. College is not just about grades or jobs; it is about learning who we are, discovering our strengths, and evolving into better versions of ourselves. It's about trying out things, exploring the wild dinosaur world and seeing all the rainbows in this rainforest.

 

Scaling the Down Under

As I conquer another hill to reach the grocery store, I am forced to wonder, did I transfer to the Alps or the beach country of Australia? One month here, and let us say all my norms have been shed. Firstly, I totally misjudged the weather. It is not always humid and hot. It is totally bizarre. One moment you can be sweating under the hot glare of UV radiation, another moment you can be shivering under the icy winds. The speed of the wind is also phenomenal, and having a bad hair day is the norm here. I also found out the key to Aussie fitness: an active lifestyle. I will never get around the fact that everyone here is always running. Like, how can you run with so many bags? I barely manage to climb up the hill to my lectures. It is truly inspiring when even an older woman overtakes you. Guess some of their active vibes rubbed off. I tried to run on the weekends. It was a humbling experience to be out of breath in just 5 minutes. But it is a start. Give me a few more months, and I will be there.

I have even tried swimming in the ocean. It is now on my ‘Things I love’ list. Swimming in the ocean is like swimming in an infinity pool. It is the feeling of tinniness in just a vast cosmos. All the dark blue waves bobbing you up and down make you feel disconnected from all the worries waiting back on land. You feel like you can float away to new adventures. I have not yet discovered any sea creatures. But isn't it magical the amount of sea life just grazing around me, hidden under multiple layers? The ocean, too, has its level of swimming. If you want to get thrashed by waves, swim in the late afternoon when the sun is about to set. If you like a cold and peaceful plunge, mornings are a great time. At night, the ocean is supposedly warm, but I have yet to experience swimming under the stars. Maybe I will try it out soon.

That reminds me of the nightlife in Sydney. Unlike the other big cities, Sydney goes to bed at 5 pm. Life slows down in the evenings. It is more of a morning town than a night town. Even popular tourist places slow down by 11 pm at the latest. I find this nature of Sydney funny. As I had always imagined, it is a cool teenager town, but it is more of a mature adult town where people must get to work in the morning.

The surroundings here are peaceful, and the chirping of birds is a constant presence throughout the day. Looks like the wildlife still stays close to the city. Though sadly, no kangaroos roam around the city streets. I always imagined wild kangaroos hopping alongside me as I walked to uni. Wouldn’t that be adorable?

I have also fallen in love with walking. Yes, I did take the public transport, and it was very disciplined and punctual. Like you are always reaching everywhere on time. But walking helps me romanticise the city more. I can explore everything at my own pace. I get the chance to see the sky change colours as the sun sets. If I were an artist, I would have sat down on the pavement and painted all the vivid colours on my canvas. As a writer, I will describe the scene to you in a classical literary style.

As I walk back after a long day, I look up at the sky, which is putting on a full-scale show. Like a dance performance, the colours take place in formation, prancing around to blend into fairy-like scenes. A lavender glow pierces through the sky, standing out like a dance lead in all her glow. Her dress sways across the horizon as she veers across the sky. Overtaking the orange and pink hues. That lavender then starts to darken as the night rolls in. The next act is of the million stars. Each twinkling with laughter as they make all the constellations for people to gaze at.

These scenes force me to take out my phone and snap a picture, and then I contemplate my poor photography skills, which surely do no justice to these vivid scenes.

 

My best photography

Reflecting on how I am keeping my spirits high in the Down Under. It gets a bit overwhelming trying to manage myself miles away from home. Homesickness is not a constant factor, but it comes in bittersweet moments. A global citizen means you are foreign to a new place and no longer of the old place. I do have one reason to feel engrossed, rather than dejected. The reason for my continuous and full-on engagement: lovely chores.

If they are casting for the Hunger Games show, I volunteer as a tribute. I am literally surviving. In a way, I am thriving with all the hacks I have come up with.

I have the first task of groceries. My pro tip is to get all your groceries in one day; it is tiring running to the store every day. Then I get all my gym gains by carrying the bags back home. A good playlist helps me on the way back. I honestly recommend Taylor’s new album, The Life of a Showgirl, even though I am more of a girl at home, but sequins are forever, and everyone loves a dazzling moment.

Next chore is cooking and eating. For breakfast, I have become a typical American sitcom kid and have cereal; it is easy and wholesome. I add flavour to this meal by pairing it with the biscuits I brought from home. Either for lunch or Dinner, I have some takeout, or on most days, I grab ingredients. Then I get to invent. The microwave is my main companion in my inventions. Do you know that Maggie can be made in a microwave? I feel like a master chef who specialises in cooking without fire.

Cooking without fire special falafel roll

Next up is washing the tools I used for cooking. I find this easy; it is like you need to scrub, and you can keep dancing while doing so, which is therapeutic. Coming next are lovely laundry days. Oh, how I miss Mangla laundry and how they used to bleach away the colours from my clothes. Carrying a big bag down flights of stairs is not fun. I do not recommend throwing your bag down, because it can be hazardous to other residents.

Thankfully, no colour has been shed on my clothes yet, so it looks like I have found the correct settings for the machine. Next, I even vacuum my room. It is fun watching bits of dust being sucked in. Like the mesh windows, they can also be cleaned with a vacuum.

By the end of the day, I am tired, but as the time between my eyes grows heavy with sleep, thoughts of being on my own creep in. As I said, it is overwhelming. But then physical exhaustion takes over the sadness, and the next day I am all set for a new adventure.

I see many beautiful things daily, attend various events on campus, complete numerous assignments, interact with people, explore, and have fun. Being far from home does not seem daunting when you have so much to learn and explore.

I just learned that India and Australia were once part of Gondwana, which split into the world as we know it today. In a way, I just jumped onto another part of home.

Every day I learn something new about Down Under. Not just from my classes, but also from my experiences, which gives me a sense of joy. This feeling helps me overcome the times that become overwhelming. In the end, it is all about picking up your running shoes and chasing after your dreams, leaving your worries behind. As you flow with the wind, it shouts encouragement to you, giggling with you as you both race under a sky of brilliant shades at every moment of the day. 

Running in the Park