Sunday, December 13, 2009
"Emma, I'll be right back. If there's anything, I'll be upstairs looking for that old wooden spoon. It stirs much better," Emma's mom said."Just holler if you need me." Emma nodded absent-mindedly. She stared out the glass window at the snow. It was cold, but Emma longed to be outside anyway. Her mother had said when she asked, "There is absolutely now way you can go outside in this weather. We have to make a nice dinner for your father and brother. Don't even think about sneaking out, either. You'll catch a cold." But as Emma stood in the kitchen alone, she knew that she could sneak outside and be back in before her mother could find the spoon. That spoon had been lost for ages, and it was unlikely her mother would find it. Her mother was also an independant person who never gave up, and she would sit upstairs for an hour looking for that spoon.
Emma peered up the creaky wooden stairs and saw no sign of her mother. She crept slowly to the door and went outside where the snow was softly falling.
waking up every morning to face new troubles,
to pursue a dream that feels impossible.
Being yourself isn't that easy,
feeling like you're a nobody
in crowded middle school halls.
Feeling left out of a friendship
isn't that easy;
it feels like someone just
slapped you in the face.
Whether it's picking out clothes
or picking out your friends,
everybody knows it's not easy.
This was an essay I had to write for Language Arts comparing a tree to life.
A growing tree is like a young child; it is full of life and love, it is strong and beautiful, it grows, and it changes. Trees give humans more air to breathe, but they also provide beautiful sights in all the different seasons. Like humans, some trees are big, some are small, some are short, and some are tall, but each one is beautiful and unique. A tree is a symbol for all people because it can stay firmly planted in the ground while storms are pushing on its trunk and blowing off its branches. To people, this means that during troubled times in our own life, we can hold our ground and not change our opinions or move where we are standing because someone else wants us to. Like a young child, a young tree can grow stronger and larger each day.
Trees are beautiful and amazing to look at in any season. In the fall, many trees are full of bright red, orange, yellow, brown, and green leaves that look like scenes from paintings. Evergreen trees, which are incredibly special and beautiful because we use them as a symbol at Christmas, stay green during all the seasons. In the winter, the branches can become covered with snow and remind a person of their favorite Christmas song. Trees do not hibernate like bears, but they simply get through the winter and wait for a warm season to come. In the spring, some trees grow little flowers, and their leaves begin to return. In the summer, the leaves are green again and the sun shines brightly on them in the warm air. Some trees will stand through the summer lightning storms, the winter blizzards, and the chilly whipping fall wind, but other trees will fall. Humans have to know when they should stand strong and hold their ground and when they should back down like a fallen tree.
Trees are strong and wonderful, yet many people regard them as nothing. They often have it hard in the winter. They do not wear coat to protect their trunk from the wind and snow, nor do they wear a hat to keep their leaves from dancing, fluttering, or falling off the branches. The bare branches do not stay warm because gloves warm them. Humans have all these wonderful items of clothing to keep them warm all winter, and so that snow does not seep inside their clothing and make them cold. Although trees do not have to deal with the everyday stress humans have to endure, especially during the holiday season, trees deal with more physical issues, so trees can be just as strong as any grown adult.
Young trees and seedlings need sunlight, water, and care to grow; the same way a young child needs care from a parent or guardian, love, water, and food. Someone may plant a seed, so that a beautiful tree might one day grow there, and that person might care for the tree. The tree gets care from nature around it because it needs sunlight to make its food for the leaves, and it needs rain to get water, which helps it grow. Both young trees and young children need all of these to survive, but the tree does not need human care. Young trees grow up mostly on their own, but most children would not have the skills to raise themselves.
Any tree is beautiful, strong, incredible, and it grows, changes, and it is a symbol for all people to stand firm in the ground, even when wind is whipping at your trunk in an attempt to blow you over. Unless they are planted in a nursery or have special human care, many young trees raise themselves from small seeds. Some reach great heights, growing thick trunks and long branches over a period of time. Many children grow up and become tall, accomplished adults who can pull themselves through any storm that comes in their path. Trees are a symbol for love, but most of all, trees are a symbol for life.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The person that you were
I was to caught up
In a silly love triangle
And my heart
My stupid heart
That made me fall
So madly in love with you
I knew it couldn't last forever
But now that your gone
I realized how lucky i was
To have been able
To call you mine
And I want to thank you
For the special memories
That might cause me
Heartache for a while
But will end up
Meaning a lot to me
In the future
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
There is nothing more
For me to live for
You were everything to me
You weren't just a friend
You were something more
Someone I truly loved
And now your gone
Just like that
And the memories
I have of you
Haunt me like a waking dream
Silence suffocates me
As I lie away at night
Waiting for the tears
That won't come
I let you into my heart
And now I play the price
For loving you to much
Monday, October 26, 2009
You seem to love me
I wish you would tell me
What was bothering you
Or at least the truth
Don't lie to me
I hate that
I can see right through you
I can read you
Like an open book
I know there is something
You're not telling me
Something that would put
All the pieces
Of the puzzle together
Then at last
I could rest in peace
I won't hate you
Or think bad of you
If you just tell me the truth
You're crushing me
Making my love for you
If you love me
Just tell me the truth
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
[A short story for my creative writing class. Any criticism appreciated.]
Horace sat alone at the kitchen table, reading his newest volume of Irish history. He didn’t notice that his mug of hot cider had melted the thin plastic of the tablecloth again. Silently turning the pages, Horace lost himself in the mysteries of the old country. By degrees, he lost all sense of self. He forgot he was a sixty-three year old man in Wisconsin; in his mind he was a strong young man in Ireland. He forgot he worked in a sad gray office building all day; in his mind he was a historical researcher for National Geographic, being paid to explore the weird old ruins on Ireland’s rugged west coast, near the choppy shores of the North Atlantic.
Holding the heavy book, Horace fell into a half-sleep. Suddenly, he wasn’t pretending anymore—he truly believed he was an explorer in Ireland. In his half-conscious stupor, Horace went over to the closet to put on some hiking boots. Opening the door, he hardly blinked as various odds and ends clattered out into the hall behind him. He put on two mismatching hiking boots and a bright yellow raincoat over his rumpled plaid shirt. With a gray fedora on his graying head and an old umbrella in hand, he ventured forth.
Outside, it was snowing for about the fortieth time that winter. “How curious! Snow, at this time of year!” Horace shouted madly to himself, his gray mustache positively quivering with excitement. “And in the county Galway! Won’t Penny be surprised to hear this!” He twirled dizzily in the wind.
Horace meandered across the gritty sand toward the shoreline of Lake Michigan. “The sea! The sea! I must be in Galway Bay!” he cried, swaying a bit in the gale. His poor umbrella struggled valiantly, suddenly turning inside out. “Oysters, I must dig for oysters!” Horace poked rather limply at the snowy sand with the broken umbrella.
A Coast Guard officer was patrolling the perimeter of the shore. She frowned. What was this man doing out here, in the cold? Surely he’d heard the news of the imminent blizzard. “Hey, what are you doing?” she called out.
“Digging for oysters!” Horace cried, triumphantly displaying his catch.
The officer looked at Horace’s fist dubiously. It was clutching a bunch of rocks, dead plant matter, and sand. “Oh really?” She reached for the walkie-talkie on her hip.
Suddenly, Horace lurched over, snatching the device. “An artifact!” he crowed. “Good work, little lady! But this is only the beginning. We have so much left to find!” And with that, he turned around abruptly and galloped into the frigid water, now swirling with snow.
The officer kicked off her heavy boots and dove in after him. One way or another, Horace landed face-up on the Wisconsin beach. Soon enough he was in a screaming ambulance, tearing down the slippery streets.
He gasped desperately for breath. He came out of his trance. Someone was pushing on his ribcage. His lungs were on fire.
Horace frowned, struggling to focus on the hazy figures swarming above him in the dry, warm darkness. “Where am I?” he asked feebly.
The officer stopped giving CPR and smirked. “County Galway Hospital.”
Sunday, October 4, 2009
a smile in sadness,
the tear shed in strife.
You were my own;
a blackberry thief,
and protector of our castle.
An explorer of the world,
lover of the rain.
The risen gates
have opened for you,
a beautiful legend
in your own right.
Always beside me,
never to be forgotten.
I'll love you forever;
my best friend.
They've left us here
why should we stay?
Give me a reason
and I'll follow you back home.
The road keeps shaking,
we could fall through.
Can you feel the spaces,
the hollow souls we knew?
The broken people,
we stepped over them.
We've hit a wall,
there's no place to go.
You ask who I am,
why pretend you don't know?
Don't hide behind questions,
we can face this together.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
did you know?
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I stared at the guy, startled and skeptical. Too surprised to speak, I gazed at him without saying a word. That was the first thing this stranger said to me. Not “hi,” or “hey,” but “do you think I’m sexy?”
My first inclination was to roll my eyes, so, of course, that’s exactly what I did.
This rude tendency stemmed from when I was much younger and would constantly roll my eyes at my teachers. Needless to say, I still hadn’t broken the habit.
After seeing my reaction, the guy’s smug expression changed suddenly – the smirk had been wiped clean off his face – but his charming, blue eyes still betrayed his cockiness. He looked back at my brother, Justin, and served the ping-pong ball he had been holding, his expression now seemingly unchanged.
In spite of myself, I couldn’t resist his obvious charm.
I stared at him for a moment longer, not wanting to take my eyes off him. Then I turned around abruptly and walked back to the bathroom door. My eyes stared blankly ahead as I contemplated what had just happened. Who is that guy? I wondered.
Turning around again, and without thinking, I approached the guy slowly. When I reached him, he stopped playing and glanced down at me from a good six inches above.
The silence hadn’t even set in before he said, “Hi, I’m Danny,” with an irresistible grin.
I tried to repress a smile. “I’m Heather.”
“Yeah, I know. I think we met at Camp Jewell once.”
I suppressed a gasp and immediately went back into my mind to memories of camp, which had taken up several summers of my life. All of a sudden, a vague recognition clicked and I was left speechless.
“I remember,” I said quietly after a moment.
An awkward silence ensued, so I returned to my post at the bathroom door, left to drown in my thoughts. Why can’t I stop staring at him? I asked myself. Why is his charm working on me?
I was stuck on that last thought when my friend, Kenzie, emerged from the bathroom. She was studying my absorbed expression when I suddenly snapped back into reality. I quickly glanced up at her, my face betraying the sudden change in my disposition.
Without waiting for me to explain, she whispered, “Who is that?” as she motioned towards the guy.
I paused before responding. “One of Justin’s friends, I guess.”
Kenzie pursed her lips. I could tell she wanted to know more. “What’s his name?” she asked absentmindedly, not seeming to care what the answer was.
“Danny,” I said, trying to sound indifferent.
I glanced back at him and he grinned that same compelling grin. I didn’t yet realize how much I would long to see that grin again.
* * *
Kenzie had long gone by the time I came downstairs to find Justin and Danny playing Guitar Hero. I walked into the room hesitantly.
“Watcha doin’?” I tried to make my voice sound casual.
“Playing Guitar Hero.”
I detected a slight edge in my brother’s tone of voice. Subconsciously, I rolled my eyes, further proof that I still hadn’t conquered that tendency. I stood there awkwardly for a while, watching them play.
“Can I play?” I questioned my brother finally.
“After Danny leaves.”
I sighed, dreading it either way.
Before I knew it, I heard the familiar ring of the doorbell echo throughout the house. I looked up in surprise as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. My mom rounded the corner and approached us while an unfamiliar woman trailed behind her. I watched intently as the woman greeted my brother and Danny.
“Come on, Danny. It’s time to go,” the woman said.
“Hold on,” Danny replied, not bothering to look up from the TV.
I listened as he and Justin played Miss Murder, one of my favorite songs from that game. The catchy tune rung in my ears as I stared at Danny. Though I didn’t know it yet, I would later associate that song with him forever.
Soon the song ended though, and then he was out the door with just a quick “later” to my brother.
And I was left sitting downstairs, alone. I was still lost in thought. I hadn’t had time to assess Danny as a guy, not to mention as a person. Confusion and uncertainty wrapped around my mind like snakes refusing to let go of their prey until they have squeezed the life out of it.
Reluctantly, I headed back upstairs, unsure of what to make of Danny and of the day.
* * *
It was a normal school day... or so I thought it was.
It was my free period and I decided to get some homework done, so I made my way to the library.
It was then my day became unusual and perpetually unforgettable.
As I entered the library, my eyes were immediately drawn to that familiar blue hat; I stared at Danny in astonishment as he stood talking to my brother at one of the computers.
It was a tough feat trying to approach Danny quickly without seeming too eager. Somehow, though, I suppose I managed to do so.
“Hey,” Danny greeted as he got up suddenly and hugged me.
I could feel the blood immediately rush to my cheeks; I couldn’t help but blush as his arms wrapped around me unexpectedly.
My heart was racing and it wasn’t until he finally broke away that I realized I had been holding my breath. I tried to steady myself as blood pounded in my ears and I fought to catch my breath.
All this happened within seconds, and before I knew it, I was once again staring up at Danny and his distinctive blue hat. I found myself speechless, and he didn’t say anything either, although his smile said more than words ever could.
That was the first time.
* * *
As I made my way through the crowded hallway on my way to room 3042, my heart suddenly began to race with excitement. Straight ahead of me was Danny; in a crowd of people, I saw only him.
I smiled as I noticed his signature blue hat and felt my heart skip a beat. In spite of my fluttering heart, I tried to seem casual as I passed him by. But, to my satisfaction, Danny just wouldn’t let me walk by unnoticed.
“Hey, Heather,” he called out.
I turned around just in time to see that irresistible grin form on his flawless face. It took all my willpower to hold back a smile as I stared into his turquoise eyes.
I could feel every beat of my heart as Danny took me into an embrace. Once again, blood rushed to my cheeks involuntarily; I blushed even more with embarrassment when he pulled away and noticed my rosy cheeks.
“Hi, Danny,” I finally murmured, my breath taken away.
After a split second of silence, I turned around in the hallway awkwardly and rushed to catch up with a friend who had been walking with me so as to appear nonchalant.
My friend didn’t need to say anything; her face said it all. I didn’t say a word either. I just smiled.
I looked back right before going into my classroom and my heart skipped a beat for the second time that day as I gazed at Danny, awestruck and, for once, happy.
* * *
Sadly, though, time goes on, and time changes people, as it did Danny and me. And so, as the year went on, our encounters began to dwindle until they soon became completely nonexistent. And I suppose Danny moved on, which, in turn, forced me to do so as well. And so I did. We both moved on with our lives, never quite together, but we changed, probably for the better, for having once been in each others’ lives.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Tobias Fulner was a very young man who believed in the power of the art of persuasion. Every day he would lift his head off of the pillow, stretch, yawn, and persuade himself that the world needed him to get up. And so he did.
Tobias was not a good student in the classical sense of things. He did not like to do homework or yardwork or woodwork or anything he deemed "immoral", a word he used so often it appeared to have less to do with morals than the principle of the thing. His parents deemed him an unruly child and made up their minds to send him to military school.
Little to their knowledge, Tobias, being a believer in the power of the art of persuasion, soon surpassed their wildest dreams and had quickly become an integral part of the Premier's inner circle of military advisors. Unfortunately for his country, Tobias knew nothing of military strategy. All he had was a gift for persuasion and a spunky, lopsided sort of charm.
Therefore, to the chagrin of all the other advisors, the country entered a war in a far corner of the globe. However, this war did not last very long, as Mr. Fulner quickly persuaded the other side to simply give up.
The next day, there was a ticker-tape parade in celebration of the heroic Tobias Fulner. All the children stood outside of their gloomy apartments and cheered for this bemused, funny-looking man who had a way with children and convincing adults to do things.
Later, spurred by the attentions of the local media, Tobias grew interested in the prospect of power, based on things other than persuasion. He had grown tired of continuously having to convince other people to do things. So, he decided one morning as he persuaded himself to get out of bed, he would do his last big job of persuasion. He would persuade the country to replace him as their leader.
So he got in front of the television cameras and the bloggers' screens and made his case. It was quite persuasive, and soon people began to question why he wasn't their leader in the first place. So the whole country mutinied and installed Premier Fulner. Actually, it wasn't a real mutiny per se, as the original premier was persuaded to give up his post too.
Satisfied, Tobias sank into a deep slumber in the cushy bed of the Premier's Palace, which had been built for him by an especially sympathetic crew of architects and construction workers. He woke up automatically the next morning when rays of sunshine tickled his retinas. But, having given up persuasion forever, he could not convince himself to get out of bed.
Days passed, with no signs of Premier Fulner reaching the outside world. Tobias was bedridden. The population became uneasy. They were unused to functioning without a leader for such a long period of time. On the twelfth day of the Premier's self-imposed exile, the people revolted. They installed a new Premier in his place.
The men from the moving company moved Fulner's bed out of the palace, into a small clearing in the nearby woods. Still Tobias would not stir. As it was, Tobias Fulner could not convince himself to do anything anymore. As is usual with these sorts of things, Tobias Fulner died.
At his funeral, no one quite knew what to say. He was buried under a large statue of a charging horse, in a plot he had persuaded the cemetery owner to give to him for free.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
when we knew to forget;
grasping winds in open palms,
holding onto lost memories.
always brighter than the sun,
echoing in the wind.
Our path was hidden,
and we lit the dark,
fighting off dragons with
We were princesses and fairies,
and famous for a day,
no stopping us.
Living while we could,
invincible all the same.
We dared to dream,
to believe in possibilities.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The feeling of pure joy
Whenever I'm near you
The feeling that a part of me is missing
Whenever I'm not
How my heart seems to race
At the sound of your name
And all i ever think about
Is you and your perfect smile
What do you call this feeling
I think it's called love
That made me smile
And appreciate the person you were
A hug when I needed one
Encouragement throughout it all
Our friendship is like a rainbow:
Red like an apple, sweet to the core.
Orange, like an eternal flame, never dying out.
Yellow like the sun that brightens the day.
Green like a plant that keeps on growing.
Blue like the water that is so pure.
Purple like a flower that is ready to bloom.
It may stop growing
Or keep flowering
But it all depends on how hard it works to stay alive
I hope we continue to nurture the flower
That is our beautiful friendship
So that, like the eternal flame
It will last forever
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
your laugh echoing as I ran,
trying to catch rays of sun
between my fingertips.
Your feet shaking the ground,
trying to run,
to catch me if I would fall.
when the world was ours
for the taking,
dancing in the rain,
falling under the wind,
coloring the sky.
Your hollow heartbeat
never supporting me as I grew,
your little girl.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
My wish is to die without a sin in my heart
My wish is to live knowing that someone cares about me
My wish is to know what life has in stored for me
My wish is to live with a life full of joy
My wish is to have meaning in my life
My wish is to die with a smile on my face
My wish is to not see my parents die before my very eyes
My wish is to see a smile on everyone’s face before I die My wish is for someone to make my wish come true.
He is a child, 14 years of age at best. He comes home feeling only anger and rage. Jason Lainez hates his father because he believes it was this man’s fault that his mother died. Every day it is the same routine. Rage, argument between father and son, silence… It has been one month since the death of his mother… The cause of her death was unknown. Yet, he blames his father…always. His father is Chad Lainez.
Jason went to Madison High school. School was basically an excuse to get away from his father. He really never paid any attention to the teacher or didn’t even care about what was happening around him. To him it was like a reconnaissance mission in the army; you would get in, acquire what little knowledge you wanted to, and get out as fast as possible. His best friend was Robert Matthews. Robert was a rich child that had everything a kid could ever want, however, his parents were no fools and sent him to school where he would not be spoiled and would be disciplined. Evidently, he was a very nice guy, once you got to know him.
“So how are things with your dad?” Robert asked as they walked down the campus.
“Who cares?” Jason responded.
“But isn’t he basically, the only one you got left? Kuz’ I mean after what happened with your mom-”
“Shut Up! I told you already that I DIDN’T CARE!”
“Whatever” Jason said as he walked to class.
Jason would then spend the rest of the time in class listening to music in his iPod nano. So the teacher would not notice, he would slip the headphones through his sleeves and place the head of it on the palm of his hand. He would then lean into the head on his hand so it would look as if he was just leaning on his hand. This was the last class of the day so Jason cared less about it than usual. The bus ride home was one of those long ones where you really don’t want to get home. He didn’t know why but he had a funny feeling that something wasn’t right. As if something bad was going to happen. He looked up at the sky. There were white clouds all over with no sun to shine or blue sky to please. Was it going to rain?
Chapter 2: The Fire
At night he stands on the roof of his small house. He looks up at the twilight in the sky. There is only a sphere in the distance that illuminates the way.
“All those stories you told me with happy families, happily ever afters’ ….and love are fake aren’t they mom?” Jason gently speaks as salty rivers of extreme sadness and despair begin to drip down his face. “WHY!? Why did you have to leave me mom? I-I…need you.” He then buries his face in his hands.
All of a sudden his father comes and sits next to him.
“I’m sorry son. I know you think that this is all my fault but… I miss your mother too. It wasn’t my fault. I love y-“
“No, you DON’T!” He was cut short. “Now leave me alone.”
He leaves his father and walks into the mysterious darkness that is night. Jason comes home a few hours later unaware of the time. But now he is not mad, sad, or happy. He does not know what to feel, all he can do is stare up in awe. Fiery flames of hate that he had been holding deep inside were gone now…no wait…they were right in front of his very eyes. Jason felt as if the devil had decided to make an inferno of his home. Thoughts raced across his mind, however, they were going so fast he could not even see straight. Was he going to faint? His world was spinning or was it just him? But before his sight went pitch black a familiar sound brought him back. But wait…it was a cry for help.
“Dad” he said aloud.
Jason quickly began kicking the door to the fiery inferno that once was his home. The door hinges had become loose due to the fire and he was able to break the door down. He ran to the center of the room until he realized that his oxygen supply was running low. He could not breathe. He began coughing louder and louder. He got in a crouching position and decided to move forward past the debris. By this point his head was beginning to ache again. Thoughts of losing his father were making him suffocate. Jason was beginning to lose hope until he saw his father. He was on the floor trapped by debris that had fallen from the wall. Chad could not move and the flames could burn him easily due to the fact that all of the debris was inflammable. Jason quickly scurried to his father’s side and started pulling out the debris that had fallen on top of his father.
“I’m sorry dad” Jason said as he pulled out a large piece of wood that had landed on his father’s ankle. “I know that it wasn’t your fault that mom died.” Tears began to drip down his face. “I’m sorry I blamed you…I-I… I just needed someone to blame, to let out my frustration and sorrow. Plus… I did not want anyone to know how scared I was to lose you too. I’m sorry dad... please don’t die….please… I need you!”
“Its okay (cough) son” Chad spoke with the little amount of air he had left. He then fainted on the floor.
“Dad! Dad, please wake up! Dad” Jason said with a face sodden of tears.
Just when Jason was about to go by his father’s side and hug him, the wood from the roof above him gave out and wood of all shapes and sizes covered in flames fell on top of him. Jason was trapped under the flames.
“Oh no” he thought. “That dizzy feeling again.”
The room was spinning quicker and quicker.
“Get him out of here! Move! Move!” this came from a masculine voice. However, by this point Jason was too confused and dizzy to see what was happening. Everything went dark after that.
Jason awoke in a hospital room. What had happened? He could not remember what happened after his father fainted. His father!! Where was his father!? This is when he first tried to move his body to look around. This is also when he first felt the excruciating pain that was running all through his body. Even moving his neck around seemed to hurt. To him, this would be one of those who, when, where, what, why situations, but he was in such a deep state of panic that he could not think straight. Jason looked at his body. It was scarred and burned. It reminded him of a night his dad and he watched a horror movie about zombies. The rooting flesh of the ugly undead seemed to remind him of his own flesh at its current state. However, his entire body was not burned; it was just his left arm, part of his chest and left stomach, and a bit on his left leg.
“It’s a good thing I’m a righty” Jason thought to himself, and maybe even giggled a little. “No. This was no time to be laughing; I have to find my father!”
He then notices all the needles and pads on his chest giving him oxygen and basically keeping him alive. He grabs them and uses all the strength he has on his right arm and hand to remove them. You would think that it would be painful, but no. It was like removing a bandage. Quick and painless, at least that’s what he felt in the moment. He arose from the hospital bed. Yet, he could not walk straight. He was basically limping. Was it his burned leg? Or the throbbing pain in his head?
“No! I have to-” he stops and falls on the white marble floor of the hospital recovery room in which he is being kept. “Keep going!”
People around him are scared. Frightened by what he might do. But Jason was so determined to find his father; he did not even notice the nervous bystanders. This is when the pain got into another level. The pain from the removed needles and pads didn’t help either. He knew he could not go any farther. But he had to try. One step is all it took… Jason collapsed on the floor.
“Call a nurse!” he heard someone say.
“He might go into a coma!” another one said.
“Help!--” yelled a bystander.
He could not hear the rest.
Chapter 3: Saving Grace
“Honey? Honey? Wake up, sugar.”
“M-mom? I-is that you? Said Jason still suffering from unclear vision and with a slight touch of nausea.
Eventually, his vision cleared and he was able to see that there was an African-American woman standing in front of him. She had caramel skin and eyes that looked as if they had been made like fresh golden brown chocolate. She was not fat. Yet, she was not skeleton-skinny either. She looked very healthy. She was wearing a nurse’s gown so he concluded that she was a nurse. He sat straight on the bed he was placed in, wincing at the pain in his chest. He had white bandages wrapped around his body, probably to heal his wounds.
“Who are you?” Jason asked.
“My name is Gloria” she answered.
“Oh, hello Gloria.”
“The firefighters got to you in time and it started raining right after the fire started, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were close friends with lady luck.”
This was the first time Jason noticed the room. It was all white. White walls, floors, etc., a typical hospital room. It had a big window on the wall facing the city. The view was beautiful, especially since the sun was just starting to come out. He also noticed how it was still raining outside.
“Lucky huh?” he repeated in his head. “Then why did my dad-”
It hit him again like lightning.
“H-hey! Where is my-” Jason said as he was almost jumped to his feet and winced.
“Easy! Your body is still healing from the wounds. Lay back down. You know, you were lucky that I got to you in time. Not only was your body burned but also extremely exhausted. This forced your body to shut down in the recovery room back there. You could have been really hurt! Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Never mind that! Where is my father!?”
“Yes! He was trapped under a bunch of wooden debris in the fire with me!”
“Honey, are you sure he was in there? Because if he was…. his body was never found.”
These words were a shotgun shell to the heart. Jason did not know what to think, let alone say. His world was crumbling. Would he be put in an orphanage? For the first time since his mother died, he truly felt alone. But this time…he really was.
To be continued…
The man sitting in front of me just stared down at the desk, amazed at the plain color the surface of the table held. His eyes were constantly observing everything about the room, as if he was deciding whether or not to stay here. I don’t know where we get psychos like this. It was because of people like him that atheists have an actual point against religion. If God is all loving, how could he make people like this?
A knock on the door was heard and the suspect quickly turned his head. I looked over as the door opened and one of the secretaries comes in. She had a nice face, but it was easily forgettable, which is why I couldn’t remember her name. She dropped a file on the desk and walked out, as if too afraid to say anything in front of either of us.
I picked up the file, and saw only a legally purchased gun at a nearby store. No criminal history, no other problems.
Except for the shoot out.
“Do you know what you did?”
“Can we get a nicer place to talk?”
Jackass. He shot five people, and all he could think about was the condition of the room he was in.
“No. Do you know what you did?”
“Of course I do.”
“What did you-“
“I shot five people, ok?” he responded coldly. His face had changed from interested to annoyance.
“I wanted to test something out.”
Test? “As in an experiment?” I asked.
He brightened up a bit, “Yeah, kinda like a…um, what do ya call those things…um…”
“That’s it!” he exclaimed. He smiled, proud that he had figured out what he was talking about.
Now I was interested, “What were you trying to find out?”
His smile grew. I had gotten his interest, talking about something he enjoyed. Something he was actually interested in.
He leaned in on the table, the silence first being disturbed by the movement of the table, then by his voice, “You ever realize how mean people are to each other?”
The prime example of this stared e straight in the eye, intrigue oozing out of his eyes.
I responded, “They’re not that bad. I-“
He fell back into his chair, “Please, you can’t walk anywhere nowadays without someone stepping on your foot or sneezing on you, and then not even say they’re sorry. No, people are shit.”
I hoped that the guys outside of the room were listening to this, taking note of this nut.
He continued on his little rant, “Like the other day, I was at my job. Down on fifth and Madison. You know, the clothing store?”
I had no idea, but lied to keep things going, “Yeah. I go there all the time.”
He smirked, “It’s a women’s store.”
I lied again, “For my wife.”
He opened his mouth to make a silent “oh.” Then he leaned back in his chair, “Well, in any case, I got fired yesterday for no good reason. Guy doesn’t even say ‘nice to know ya’ or um… ‘We’ll see if we can do something for ya’!”
“So you shot those people because you lost your job?”
He chuckled, “No no. I began wondering why people are so mean. But then I realized, people will help each other in times of crisis. So, I went down to Time Square, pulled out the gun, and started shooting.”
My faced scrunched in confusion, “But why?”
He responded calm and steady, “To see how many people needed to die before someone stopped me.”
I froze, an unknown fear creeping up the back of my spine,
“And it took five people before anybody even came close to me. They all just kept running away, screaming and whatnot. But by the time that fifth person was shot, someone started running towards me,” he smiled, the way a man smiles when he thinks of a great time in college, “That was a good guy-“
I got up and stormed towards the door, pushing it open and yelling at the guys standing next to the window, “Take him away. I’m done here.”
I opened the door to the main office and escaped that enclosed world of darkness. When I finally reached me desk, a note was there saying that four of the five victims had died. The fifth had been taken to the hospital in time by an unknown citizen.
I threw the note into the trash, hoping that psycho would never find out he was right.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
"I love you Carter, always have, always will."
As my dog runs I feel as if she is more than a dog, she is an angel. As her thin but long tongue hangs out of her cute little mouth, she smiles. Her smile is worth a million words. It always makes my day. I swear it must be magic. I swear that it is true. Every time I look at her, I lose the definition of “ewwwwww”.
“What the hell?!” she screamed in her mind but in reality it all sort of blended together and came out as a faint “wayeyey?”. She figured her eyes were open but could not see a thing. She tried every possible move to try to escape the ropes around her wrists and ankles. As a CIA agent, Sarah Wrangler was trained well by escape artists. She had always been able to escape ropes before but these were different knots. No ordinary criminal could accomplish knots such as these. She tried to feel around the small space she was crammed into for anything that could help her escape the ropes. She failed to find anything sharp or any elbow room for that matter. She tried to feel for any pocketknives or such on her belt but realized she had been stripped of her clothing and was now in some sort of gown. As she was just trying to stay calm, she was exposed to light.
She saw a man walking towards her. He was just less than six feet with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was very well dressed wearing a navy blue blazer and tan chinos. He had on black penny loafers with pennies in them. He also had his hair combed to the right a little bit and was smoking a cigar. He picked her up and put something over her face. She looked back and saw that she had just been in a trunk of a car. That was all she could remember.
Chapter 1: Who
“Ring, Ring” the phones were going crazy down at the CIA building. The kidnapping of Sarah Wrangler was such an odd case because she wasn’t even working on a case. Why would anybody choose to take her out of all people? They had been investigating many drug cartels and sex slave warehouses lately so many have been shut down. Well that puts those out of the question.
John Marksman was Sarah’s best friend. They had been partners when they worked for the LAPD only a few years back. They still remained friends when they started working in the field for the CIA though. John’s heart was broken because he had wanted to be more than friends with Sarah for quite some time now. He would find her. He knew he could. But all he could do is pray. He could pray for her to be strong. He knew she could handle anything.
To be continued…
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
In St.Petersburg alone their are 16,000 street children including the total one million living in Russia today.
Also to make money they go to metro stations, but their are some of the most dangerous criminals there, they go their to beg, get drugs, and collect bottles and give them to people for money. They hate coming here but they have to every day, Max says its really scary when someone you don't know approaches you and you don't know them, like this man with a knife they told me about and they chased them and finally they got away, when I think about this i cry.
They don't like talking to social workers because there are a lot of social workers and a lot of people who pretend to be one, they don't talk to them because the impersonators can work for rapists or maniacs, and even if they are good what can they do for them, send them to orphanages which is not wanted by them because it needs inmprovement in education, care, and how they raise them because 10% of the orphans end up commiting suicide by the age of 18. Then most street children don't like police officers who are supposed to be helping them. Yuri and Max personally know three good police men, the rest they run away from because the papers keep piling up and by that he means that the number of times you stole something or bought drugs, and they again might send them to orphanages, government shelters, or even prison depending on how old you are and what you have done.
This is how hard it is for only two of the street children in St.Petersburg Russia!