CHAPTER SIX
I am walking towards the school, and it is.... Friday! Yay! But as I am just about to step onto the sidewalk, McKay, who is in History with me, and just a few paces ahead of me, starts to trip as he is walking up on it. And picture a tall, skinny, blond guy start to trip. It's frickin' hilarious! Before he falls though he recover's his balance, but with his shoes off. I don't know how that happened, but when he, himself, notices that his shoes are off he turns around and says, "Oh, gotta grab my shoes." Seeing that all play out really makes a good day to start out with. As I am passing him I can't help but start laughing because it just so funny! I quickly begin to walk away as fast as I can so he wont know that it was me that laughed at him; but, man, that was too great.
As I walk into school with the smile still plastered on my face, I look up and see Mr. Hotty Mc Hot Hot staring as me. I quickly look down so that I have something to focus on. I don't know how to act in these situations. Do I smile? Do I wave? Do I ignore? What do I do?
"Hey Sam." Greek God say's to me. To me!
"Hi, uh...."
"Jeremie." He finishes for me.
"You know I was just about to say that."
"Oh really?" He laughs.
"Yes. In fact, I believe that I was the one who put those letters in your mind."
"Ptsh. Whatever. You haven't even met me yet."
"Ooo, you make that sound weird, because how is it that you knew my name but I didn't know yours?"
"Because Mrs. Smith always says your name whenever you zone out."
"Well, that would make sense." I say laughing along with him.
"Yeah." He smiles. Oh, man he is hot. "So since the bell is going to ring any second, and we have our first period together, do you want to walk up there... I mean... together?"
Ah, he's nervous. That's so cute. I love it when guys get nervous around girls. Especially when it's me. And it's never me. "Yeah, that sounds cool." I say, trying my best to sound cool.
We begin the walk up in silence and I think, Crap, we've run out of thing's to talk about! What should I say? What should I do? Ugh! Why did this happen to me? I mean I'm glad that he's walking with me, but now I don't know what to say!
Luckily for me, he interrupted my, soon to be, nervous breakdown.
"So the sky is blue today."
"Yeah, and the grass is green." I say, and now the tension has dissapeared and we are talking again.
"You're a funny person." He say's.
"Oh, thanks. I'm glad that you realize it." I pause. I turn to him, stop him, put my hands on his shoulders and say, "And you are beginning to be funny yourself."
"Thank you." He laughs.
"Your welcome." I sing. And then we get into class and Mrs. Smith scowls at me as me and Jeremie take our seats. Today is really going to be a great day.
Malarie's Counter
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
Paying Attention
CHAPTER FIVE
"Do I have to explain this to you again, Sam?" Alicia says once she see's me staring off into space.
I just look at her and say, "Yes please."
"You are having a date with Daniel Crass. Totally hot dude."
"First of all, it's not a date- it's study group. Second... well I can't help but agree with you on that."
"I know. That is why you need to dress up a little, not too much, but just enough so that you look like a frickin' hottie."
I contemplate this for a moment, then think, Well why not? It doesn't hurt to look attractive from time to time. "Oh, all right," I say after a minute or so. "I guess you can make me look cute."
"Do I have to explain this to you again, Sam?" Alicia says once she see's me staring off into space.
I just look at her and say, "Yes please."
"You are having a date with Daniel Crass. Totally hot dude."
"First of all, it's not a date- it's study group. Second... well I can't help but agree with you on that."
"I know. That is why you need to dress up a little, not too much, but just enough so that you look like a frickin' hottie."
I contemplate this for a moment, then think, Well why not? It doesn't hurt to look attractive from time to time. "Oh, all right," I say after a minute or so. "I guess you can make me look cute."
***
Once I arrive at his house I notice that I am extremely nervous. What am I going to say? What if someone else answers the door? Would I say, 'Hello, is Daniel here?' or, 'This is the right house, right?' What if he isn't even here? Or, even worse, what if he gave me the wrong address? That would be sooo embarrassing!
Before I know it I am walking up the two steps that lead to the front door, and then ring the doorbell. The door open's and a little boy, by the looks of it, nine or ten, stands there, hand on knob, staring at me. His look resembles Daniels, especially in the eyes.
"Hello, is Daniel here?" Thank goodness I chose that to say instead of the other.
He opens his mouth to respond, but before any words are able to form out of his mouth Daniel appears and says, "I'll handle this now Mikie." He bends down and I can barely make out the word 'treat' before Daniel pat's him on the back and the little boy runs out of the room. He now stands up, looks at me, and smiles. "Should we go into the front room?"
"Sure." I say. I don't really know where else we would go. I don't live here.
He leads me to the front room, and once I am in their I have to squint. It takes me a minute to put it together, but their are two large windows, one on two of the four walls, and they are letting a ridiculous amount of light in. I usually don't mind light, even though I prefer cloudy and rainy day's, but this was just too much.
But now that I think of it, (my eyes have adjusted) this is a very nice room. There are big lace drapes hanging down, tied to the sides, to frame them in a way. It sounds weird, I know, but now that I notice how everything else falls into place, I love it. The room is bright, but now that I look around I see that the walls are painted a deep red to tone down the craziness a little. A lazy boy is set off to the side in front of the TV, and a large couch sits right next to it. A small brown polished coffee table is in the middle of the room, accenting the area to look very classy. I almost feel as though I have walked into a 1930's movie. Almost.
Daniel sits down on the couch and says that I can sit too. I think that he noticed that I was just standing there. That's a little awkward.
"Who decorated this room? It's beautiful." I sort of wish that I could have taken those words back because they are just so... so.... Scripted.
"My mom did. She is really into the whole interior decorating thing. She believes that every room has a personality."
"That's pretty jazztastic." I say. And once I say it, I don't feel as embarrassed because he starts laughing.
"Your a pretty funny person. In elementary I remember you were more shy than anything. I guess you've just grown out of that."
I pause, smiling, "Hmm, maybe. I don't know. I still think that there are several times when I could be a little less shy. I kind of hate how I am so shy sometimes. Along with my deep voice." At the word deep, I lowered my voice a little more.
"What are you talking about? It fits you perfectly."
"Thanks." I say shyly.
"No problem. So what should we start on in your math?"
"Umm. I honestly don't know where to start."
"Hmm, a girl who knows what she wants. How much homework do you have?" He asks as I hand him my binder.
"Uh, better just to look for yourself."
"That bad?" He laughs.
"That bad." I laugh with him.
As he flips through the stack he finally looks up at me and says, "Maybe we'll just do three today."
"Yeah," I say agreeing, "sounds like a good idea."
Before I know it I am walking up the two steps that lead to the front door, and then ring the doorbell. The door open's and a little boy, by the looks of it, nine or ten, stands there, hand on knob, staring at me. His look resembles Daniels, especially in the eyes.
"Hello, is Daniel here?" Thank goodness I chose that to say instead of the other.
He opens his mouth to respond, but before any words are able to form out of his mouth Daniel appears and says, "I'll handle this now Mikie." He bends down and I can barely make out the word 'treat' before Daniel pat's him on the back and the little boy runs out of the room. He now stands up, looks at me, and smiles. "Should we go into the front room?"
"Sure." I say. I don't really know where else we would go. I don't live here.
He leads me to the front room, and once I am in their I have to squint. It takes me a minute to put it together, but their are two large windows, one on two of the four walls, and they are letting a ridiculous amount of light in. I usually don't mind light, even though I prefer cloudy and rainy day's, but this was just too much.
But now that I think of it, (my eyes have adjusted) this is a very nice room. There are big lace drapes hanging down, tied to the sides, to frame them in a way. It sounds weird, I know, but now that I notice how everything else falls into place, I love it. The room is bright, but now that I look around I see that the walls are painted a deep red to tone down the craziness a little. A lazy boy is set off to the side in front of the TV, and a large couch sits right next to it. A small brown polished coffee table is in the middle of the room, accenting the area to look very classy. I almost feel as though I have walked into a 1930's movie. Almost.
Daniel sits down on the couch and says that I can sit too. I think that he noticed that I was just standing there. That's a little awkward.
"Who decorated this room? It's beautiful." I sort of wish that I could have taken those words back because they are just so... so.... Scripted.
"My mom did. She is really into the whole interior decorating thing. She believes that every room has a personality."
"That's pretty jazztastic." I say. And once I say it, I don't feel as embarrassed because he starts laughing.
"Your a pretty funny person. In elementary I remember you were more shy than anything. I guess you've just grown out of that."
I pause, smiling, "Hmm, maybe. I don't know. I still think that there are several times when I could be a little less shy. I kind of hate how I am so shy sometimes. Along with my deep voice." At the word deep, I lowered my voice a little more.
"What are you talking about? It fits you perfectly."
"Thanks." I say shyly.
"No problem. So what should we start on in your math?"
"Umm. I honestly don't know where to start."
"Hmm, a girl who knows what she wants. How much homework do you have?" He asks as I hand him my binder.
"Uh, better just to look for yourself."
"That bad?" He laughs.
"That bad." I laugh with him.
As he flips through the stack he finally looks up at me and says, "Maybe we'll just do three today."
"Yeah," I say agreeing, "sounds like a good idea."
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Paying Attention
CHAPTER FOUR
I walk into school, people buzzing around me. (Not really though. That would be weird.) I am trying to look for Alicia, but it's kind of impossible to do when you're walking behind a group of people who are walking like a mile an hour. Seriously. I keep on trying to get around them, but then once I start to, someone coming from the opposite direction starts coming, so then I have to move back behind the slow pokes. I hate it!
I see Alicia surrounded by some of our other friends, Wesley, Jessica, and Melinda. They see me too and nod for me to join them. Once I get there I see a Godlike figure walking behind Jessica, then past me, giving me a little nod, acknowledging my presence in the universe. I catch my breath. Mr. Hotty Mc. Hot Hot looked at me. Me! And nodded! Oh crap, what do I do? Do I nod back? Or do I just act as if I didn't even notice? Crap.
I choose option B.
I looked down and then back up at Jessica. I feel my face burn as my pulse begins to quicken. Did he notice? I sure hope not, because if he did that would be imbarassing.
Once I feel brave enough to look around again, he is gone. Oh, man. I think. We have our next class together.
"Wait," he say's stopping me. "What's your name?"
"Um." I pause, wondering why he wants to know my name. Does he want to ask me out? Do I look cute? Am I making this pause last too long? "My name is Sam."
"Sam. Sam. Hm.... Are you Samantha Brown?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Sam! How are you? I'm Daniel Crass. From elementary? We were in Ms. Lewis's class together. Remember?"
I just stand there, wanting to remember, but can't. "Sorry, no." I continue to just stare at him, hypnotized, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"Ahh, that's too bad. We were pretty good friends back then. Oh well." He sighs. "Well, what's your next class?" He asks as we begin to walk away.
"Ugh, math. Gag me with a spoon."
He just laughs. "Well I don't have that, but if you need any help with math we could form a study group."
"Sure." I say, smiling slightly. "Sounds great."
"Cool. Here's my address, and if you have any questions here is my number as well." He says, specifically tapping the number.
"K, that sounds good." I smile, stopping right before my class. "I guess I'll see you later."
"Yeah, see ya tonight."
Once I sit down in my desk I write in my palm, see old elementary pictures and check for Daniel Crass. And then, as usual, I zone out as 'Mrs.' Smith rants on about decimals and fractions. Man, I really can't wait until tonight.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Paying Attention
CHAPTER THREE
On Friday morning I wake up and think about yesterday and about Mr. Hotty Mc. Hot Hot. I can't help wondering why he asked me for number eight on the worksheet. Could he seriously not tell how I hadn't done any of the work and I kept on glancing at the clock?
Oh well, can't worry about it now. It's 6:45 and I still have to get ready for school which starts at 7:45. I was supposed to get up like fifteen minutes ago, but the Snooze and the Stop buttons were staring at me right in the face, and I knew that if I pressed the Stop button I would never wake up. Also, I really just wanted my alarm to shut up.
Now that I am awake I am just sitting up and I stare at my bed spread. My eyes start to close again but I will them back open. I look around, back down at my bed, groan, and get up. Once I get out of bed I turn on my light and blink away the searing pain, and in the process remind myself not to look in my full length mirror right now or it will cause even more pain. Once my eyes adjust to the light I open my closet and look at my clothes and wonder what I am going to wear today. I contemplate on the idea of stealing something of my sister Mariah's, but then dismiss it because I know that she will never let me. It would also be hard to steal something right now considering that she is getting ready for school too. And doing something like that will make her mad. And mean and tired is not a good mix.
I continue to stare at my clothes for another five minutes or so, then sigh and grab one of my minni dresses and my leggings and put those on. Finally after all that is done I shuffle upstairs and turn on the kitchen light and grab a bowl of cereal. It takes me about ten minutes to eat it all, and then by the time that I am done it's 7:15. Five minutes slower than usual.
After I put my bowl in the sink I head back downstairs and go to brush my teeth. As I'm doing so I look at my pale skin and my blue eyes. My mom say's that I have full libs, so guess I'm pretty lucky there. But my hair. It's short and light brown with blond streaks in it. People ask me if I died my hair recently and I say, "Nooo." And that's all for the conversation. Other people have said that I'm a dirty blond and I say, "I am not a dirty blond. This is clearly brown." But some people just don't believe me. It's really annoying. I guess that I have a pretty thin body, but I still feel like a total fatty. Food is my lover.
Now that I am done I look at my face to see if I need any makup. Maybe some cover up because I look like Edward Cullen right now. And that is not pretty. Luckily I don't need any more makup, because I really don't feel like putting any more on.
On Friday morning I wake up and think about yesterday and about Mr. Hotty Mc. Hot Hot. I can't help wondering why he asked me for number eight on the worksheet. Could he seriously not tell how I hadn't done any of the work and I kept on glancing at the clock?
Oh well, can't worry about it now. It's 6:45 and I still have to get ready for school which starts at 7:45. I was supposed to get up like fifteen minutes ago, but the Snooze and the Stop buttons were staring at me right in the face, and I knew that if I pressed the Stop button I would never wake up. Also, I really just wanted my alarm to shut up.
Now that I am awake I am just sitting up and I stare at my bed spread. My eyes start to close again but I will them back open. I look around, back down at my bed, groan, and get up. Once I get out of bed I turn on my light and blink away the searing pain, and in the process remind myself not to look in my full length mirror right now or it will cause even more pain. Once my eyes adjust to the light I open my closet and look at my clothes and wonder what I am going to wear today. I contemplate on the idea of stealing something of my sister Mariah's, but then dismiss it because I know that she will never let me. It would also be hard to steal something right now considering that she is getting ready for school too. And doing something like that will make her mad. And mean and tired is not a good mix.
I continue to stare at my clothes for another five minutes or so, then sigh and grab one of my minni dresses and my leggings and put those on. Finally after all that is done I shuffle upstairs and turn on the kitchen light and grab a bowl of cereal. It takes me about ten minutes to eat it all, and then by the time that I am done it's 7:15. Five minutes slower than usual.
After I put my bowl in the sink I head back downstairs and go to brush my teeth. As I'm doing so I look at my pale skin and my blue eyes. My mom say's that I have full libs, so guess I'm pretty lucky there. But my hair. It's short and light brown with blond streaks in it. People ask me if I died my hair recently and I say, "Nooo." And that's all for the conversation. Other people have said that I'm a dirty blond and I say, "I am not a dirty blond. This is clearly brown." But some people just don't believe me. It's really annoying. I guess that I have a pretty thin body, but I still feel like a total fatty. Food is my lover.
Now that I am done I look at my face to see if I need any makup. Maybe some cover up because I look like Edward Cullen right now. And that is not pretty. Luckily I don't need any more makup, because I really don't feel like putting any more on.
Paying Attention
CHAPTER TWO
"Hey Sam." Says Alicia when I call her.
"Hey my sexy lady friend." I reply in a flirtatious voice.
She laughs. "So, what were you calling for?"
I pause. For dramatic purposes. "Lici, I need some help."
"I am not bailing you out of prison again."
"Again? That's never happened."
"Ya-huh. Remember the time when you TP'ed Mrs. Smiths house, and put a burning sack of poo on the front step? And remember how you got caught? Hmm?"
"Alicia, I didn't go to jail for that. Remember? I got caught, got a record, but was never put in the police car. Jeez, you really got to work on your memory skills. They're a little below par."
"Anyways." She says irritatedly. "What do you need?"
"Well, there's this guy..."
"Oh, a guy? Why didn't you mention that before?"
"Because you were saying that I was in jail once, and I was correcting you."
"Whatever," she says, now sounding excited. "What's his name?"
"Umm, Brady, Brandon. Well he kind of looked like a Steven actually-"
"You don't know his name."
"Excuse me, I was talking."
"How am I supposed to help you with a guy that doesn't exist?"
"He does exist, I just don't know his name, that's all."
"Sure." She replies sarcastically.
"Anyway's, can you help me look hot for tomorrow? He sits behind me in Math, and I need to make sure that the back looks just as good as the front."
After she lets out a long sigh, she says, "Sam, you're already beautiful. And by the way, he's not going to like the real you if you act like someone else."
"Ugh, thank's mom. Can you just help me please?"
"Fine."
"Thank you." I say.
"Yeah, yeah."
"I love you!" I sing.
"Bye." And then she hangs up the phone, and mom calls me down for dinner."
"Hey Sam." Says Alicia when I call her.
"Hey my sexy lady friend." I reply in a flirtatious voice.
She laughs. "So, what were you calling for?"
I pause. For dramatic purposes. "Lici, I need some help."
"I am not bailing you out of prison again."
"Again? That's never happened."
"Ya-huh. Remember the time when you TP'ed Mrs. Smiths house, and put a burning sack of poo on the front step? And remember how you got caught? Hmm?"
"Alicia, I didn't go to jail for that. Remember? I got caught, got a record, but was never put in the police car. Jeez, you really got to work on your memory skills. They're a little below par."
"Anyways." She says irritatedly. "What do you need?"
"Well, there's this guy..."
"Oh, a guy? Why didn't you mention that before?"
"Because you were saying that I was in jail once, and I was correcting you."
"Whatever," she says, now sounding excited. "What's his name?"
"Umm, Brady, Brandon. Well he kind of looked like a Steven actually-"
"You don't know his name."
"Excuse me, I was talking."
"How am I supposed to help you with a guy that doesn't exist?"
"He does exist, I just don't know his name, that's all."
"Sure." She replies sarcastically.
"Anyway's, can you help me look hot for tomorrow? He sits behind me in Math, and I need to make sure that the back looks just as good as the front."
After she lets out a long sigh, she says, "Sam, you're already beautiful. And by the way, he's not going to like the real you if you act like someone else."
"Ugh, thank's mom. Can you just help me please?"
"Fine."
"Thank you." I say.
"Yeah, yeah."
"I love you!" I sing.
"Bye." And then she hangs up the phone, and mom calls me down for dinner."
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Paying Attention
CHAPTER ONE
I am sitting in Math class just counting down the minutes until we get to leave.
"Samantha, is there something very fascinating about the clock?" Say's Mrs. Smith. I honestly don't know how she got a husband. I mean she's just so boring, which doesn't help at all considering that it's Math which is my worst subject. Maybe her husband is an Accountant and so their boring similarities brought them to each other. That, or Mrs. Smith just calls herself that so she won't feel as depressed in her dull life.
"Samantha." She says again a little louder, knocking me out of my daydream of her being pushed off a cliff to her death.
"Yes?" I manage to say through all of the ramblings in my brain.
"Have you been paying attention?"
"Ummm..."
"That's what I thought. Now this time, pay attention!"
Mrs. Smith and her blond hair pulled up in a tight bun, and her beige shirt and skirt reminds me a lot of Angela from The Office. Uptight and plain.
But thinking about The Office makes me think of a funny part from an episode where Pam and Jim keep on pranking Andy until he throws a fit. But it's not until I hear the laughter in my ears that I find that I have laughed out loud.
I look around to make sure that no one heard, but of course, the whole entire class has turned to look at me. I feel my whole face start to turn red and I turn myself back to the board, look up at Mrs. Smith (who's staring at me like the rest of the class), and say, "So, Mrs. Smith, what was that you were saying about..." I pause, looking at the board to see what she was talking about. "Umm," I continue, "about Square Routes?"
Mrs. Smith turns back around and I stare back at the clock. One more minute left. 59, 58, 57...
"Hey."
I'm caught off guard when a hand taps me on the shoulder and I turn around to see a guy staring at me expectantly.
Mmm. I think. Tall, dark, and handsome.
And it's true. he has dark brown, almost black, messy hair that looks like he just got out of bed. Along with his dark hair he has a nice tan that makes is greenish-grey eyes pop out. He's wearing a grey V-neck with a plaid shirt over it. And topping it all off he's wearing jean's that look worn in. So hot.
Finally, I am brought back to earth.
He whispers, "Hey, did you get number eight?"
"No. Did you get.. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, obviously not eight, nine, ten, ele-"
And then I am rudely cut of mid-whisper by the bell, and then he grabs his books and gets up and walks away. Right before he's out the door I call, "Yeah, thanks for the help!" And then he disappears. Mr. Hotty Mc. Hot Hot disappears and I am, oddly, the last person out of the room.
I am sitting in Math class just counting down the minutes until we get to leave.
"Samantha, is there something very fascinating about the clock?" Say's Mrs. Smith. I honestly don't know how she got a husband. I mean she's just so boring, which doesn't help at all considering that it's Math which is my worst subject. Maybe her husband is an Accountant and so their boring similarities brought them to each other. That, or Mrs. Smith just calls herself that so she won't feel as depressed in her dull life.
"Samantha." She says again a little louder, knocking me out of my daydream of her being pushed off a cliff to her death.
"Yes?" I manage to say through all of the ramblings in my brain.
"Have you been paying attention?"
"Ummm..."
"That's what I thought. Now this time, pay attention!"
Mrs. Smith and her blond hair pulled up in a tight bun, and her beige shirt and skirt reminds me a lot of Angela from The Office. Uptight and plain.
But thinking about The Office makes me think of a funny part from an episode where Pam and Jim keep on pranking Andy until he throws a fit. But it's not until I hear the laughter in my ears that I find that I have laughed out loud.
I look around to make sure that no one heard, but of course, the whole entire class has turned to look at me. I feel my whole face start to turn red and I turn myself back to the board, look up at Mrs. Smith (who's staring at me like the rest of the class), and say, "So, Mrs. Smith, what was that you were saying about..." I pause, looking at the board to see what she was talking about. "Umm," I continue, "about Square Routes?"
Mrs. Smith turns back around and I stare back at the clock. One more minute left. 59, 58, 57...
"Hey."
I'm caught off guard when a hand taps me on the shoulder and I turn around to see a guy staring at me expectantly.
Mmm. I think. Tall, dark, and handsome.
And it's true. he has dark brown, almost black, messy hair that looks like he just got out of bed. Along with his dark hair he has a nice tan that makes is greenish-grey eyes pop out. He's wearing a grey V-neck with a plaid shirt over it. And topping it all off he's wearing jean's that look worn in. So hot.
Finally, I am brought back to earth.
He whispers, "Hey, did you get number eight?"
"No. Did you get.. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, obviously not eight, nine, ten, ele-"
And then I am rudely cut of mid-whisper by the bell, and then he grabs his books and gets up and walks away. Right before he's out the door I call, "Yeah, thanks for the help!" And then he disappears. Mr. Hotty Mc. Hot Hot disappears and I am, oddly, the last person out of the room.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Idea's for Stories
She stared at him, but he continued to ignore her. And now she realized how it felt, how it felt to be ignored. And he was her best friend. She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched away. Now she really regretted telling him her feelings for Josh.
Finally Aaron got up, stepped towards the door and walked out. And Eliza was alone. Because the boy she thought she cared about, was in love with another.
/
Love, what a strange word to say. But as Shea contemplated it over she began to see the beauty it possessed. The likeness that it contributed to every one's daily life, no matter how horrible they seemed. But what puzzled her most was how that word escaped out of Conner's mouth. And that word was directed towards her.
/
The bottle lay on the dresser, staring at the weak hazy face that was suposed to be a man, the pupils almost filling the eyes completely, causing the bottle to see into blackness.
The man picked up the bottle again and pushed it to his mouth to seize the temporary greatness of escaping from the world, if not only for a moment. When he let the bottle down, the bottle could see an emptiness in the man's eyes. Like he didn't care what happened to him next.
The man pulled himself to his feet, carying the bottle with him. He walked a few steps, stumbled, and dropped the bottle. The bottle felt it's self crash into hundreds of peices. And with one of it's big, unbroken peices, it saw the drunken man fall onto his bed and cry. The crying lasted only a few minutes, then was broken by sleep. But the bottle felt nothing for the man. No pity, no sadness. For it was just a bottle, and nothing more. And as night turned into day, and day to night, the peices were finally swept up and thrown in the trash. Because it was just a bottle, and nothing more.
/
Olivia turned to Hunter and said, "You mean you love me?"
Hunter smiled and said, "Yes, yes I love you!"
Olivia's face got hot as she began to smile saying, "I love you too." And that was all Hunter needed to know that he could kiss her. He walked the two steps, closed the gap between them and kissed her, enveloping his arms around her. And she kissed him back with the wanting of nothing else but him. And with that kiss, they both knew that one was crazy for the other.
Finally Aaron got up, stepped towards the door and walked out. And Eliza was alone. Because the boy she thought she cared about, was in love with another.
/
Love, what a strange word to say. But as Shea contemplated it over she began to see the beauty it possessed. The likeness that it contributed to every one's daily life, no matter how horrible they seemed. But what puzzled her most was how that word escaped out of Conner's mouth. And that word was directed towards her.
/
The bottle lay on the dresser, staring at the weak hazy face that was suposed to be a man, the pupils almost filling the eyes completely, causing the bottle to see into blackness.
The man picked up the bottle again and pushed it to his mouth to seize the temporary greatness of escaping from the world, if not only for a moment. When he let the bottle down, the bottle could see an emptiness in the man's eyes. Like he didn't care what happened to him next.
The man pulled himself to his feet, carying the bottle with him. He walked a few steps, stumbled, and dropped the bottle. The bottle felt it's self crash into hundreds of peices. And with one of it's big, unbroken peices, it saw the drunken man fall onto his bed and cry. The crying lasted only a few minutes, then was broken by sleep. But the bottle felt nothing for the man. No pity, no sadness. For it was just a bottle, and nothing more. And as night turned into day, and day to night, the peices were finally swept up and thrown in the trash. Because it was just a bottle, and nothing more.
/
Olivia turned to Hunter and said, "You mean you love me?"
Hunter smiled and said, "Yes, yes I love you!"
Olivia's face got hot as she began to smile saying, "I love you too." And that was all Hunter needed to know that he could kiss her. He walked the two steps, closed the gap between them and kissed her, enveloping his arms around her. And she kissed him back with the wanting of nothing else but him. And with that kiss, they both knew that one was crazy for the other.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Me
Today I am just going to talk about my life. No stories, just life. (Like anyone talks about anything but their lives.) I will start right here. Now.
/
So today when I checked my facebook after church and after dinner, me and my friend saw that I had a message. So we checked it and it was the boy that I like giving me his number! I was so happy that I almost peed my pants. :) So I quickly sent him a message back giving him my number. I just really hope that it was for me, and that he didn't send it to a whole lot of other people. But if there were several other people then that's okay I guess. But I hope that there weren't a whole lot of others. /
Anyways... it's hard to talk about my life when I don't know what to talk (or in this case write) about. I guess that's all that I wanted to say today, but it doesn't seem like a whole lot. But I will continue Me later. I don't know when, but I will continue it.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
My Thoughts
Inside me rages a story wanting to come out,
boiling point is almost here
I think I've figured it out.
/
/
With every thought, and every dream willing to explore,
I think, and look, and see what experiences
will help me jump and soar.
/
Lurking things attempt to stop me and sometimes hold me there,
how can I then be free from this
old discusting snare?
/
I look for help and no one's there, have I done something wrong?
And yes I have, several times
and for it there's no happy song.
/
What then be there upon my mind that shelters me from fear?
Is it Angels, is it God?
What is it that lies in here?
/
My thoughts have unleashed a beautiful world, but will I stay protected?
What happens next? Will I come through?
will the good stay undetected?
/
Undetected from those dangers searching high and low,
for the victims who aren't looking
who fall upon a frigid snow.
/
Out of sight and out of mind does rarely work well
But out of sight and out of dangers
will keep me safe from hell.
/
I know that God is watching me, he will keep me safe and sound.
I believe in him, I know him
and his love speaks around.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
If you have noticed the resemblance of the chapters ten and eleven of Anna, that is because there is a resemblance to them. I didn't realize that I was writing almost exactly the same thing. I have only just noticed it. So ignore it. Plus, chapter eleven is better than chapter ten. So just skip right to eleven. Sorry for the mishap.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Anna
CHAPTER TWELVE
We just lay there in silence cuddled close together in his room. His hand gently strokes my arm, my hand rubbing circles on his palm.
The TV is on, the only thing lighting up the room, colors bouncing off the walls. The sound fills the room yet I hear nothing. As if I have gone deaf from my own thoughts.
As we lie there in silence the thought of my mother lying in the hospital bed scares me. The thought of her helpless, the doctors keeping her alive for as long as is possible. I suddenly let out a small cry. I try to cover it up by laughing, but that would never be believable, especially since we are watching West Side Story. Conner presses his lips against my head and I feel like a child. The parent trying to comfort their daughter from the fears she has of the world. And it helps a little, but I feel like I will never feel completely comfortable without mom here. And though she's not 'gone', she is still gone. Gone from us.
As I lie like this with Conner I feel happy. I feel protected. I feel apreciated. I feel special. I feel... loved.
We just lay there in silence cuddled close together in his room. His hand gently strokes my arm, my hand rubbing circles on his palm.
The TV is on, the only thing lighting up the room, colors bouncing off the walls. The sound fills the room yet I hear nothing. As if I have gone deaf from my own thoughts.
As we lie there in silence the thought of my mother lying in the hospital bed scares me. The thought of her helpless, the doctors keeping her alive for as long as is possible. I suddenly let out a small cry. I try to cover it up by laughing, but that would never be believable, especially since we are watching West Side Story. Conner presses his lips against my head and I feel like a child. The parent trying to comfort their daughter from the fears she has of the world. And it helps a little, but I feel like I will never feel completely comfortable without mom here. And though she's not 'gone', she is still gone. Gone from us.
As I lie like this with Conner I feel happy. I feel protected. I feel apreciated. I feel special. I feel... loved.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
These are some words that go with my name
Meak
Amiable
Loving
Affectionate
Relaxed
Interesting
Educated
/
Delightful
Artistic
Warm hearted
Nurturing
/
Optomistic
Romantic
Responsible
Open
Caring
Kind
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Anna
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We silently ride up the elvator to our floor, our minds trying to collect all of the things that are happening to us and mom.
When the doors open to floor eight, we retreat into the hallway our thoughts cluttered with so many others that trying to think right seems incomprehendible. I look at dad to see if he knows at least where his room is. He does but he can't seem to swipe his card through the lock. I take it from him and do it myself. The door clicks and I push it open. Dad still seems lost, so I guide him in, give him a hug, and kiss him goodnight.
As I walk into my own room the emptiness filling it up so much that I just want to lie in my bed and cry until there is no tear left. But I don't. Instead I walk over to the window by it and look down at the cars below. I watch as each one waits for a pedestrian to cross, the headlights lighting their appearance as they pass into the night.
As I watch I count remembering as many great times of my life with my parents as I can before another car passes. The highest I get to is eight. Pretty soon though I get sick of it and walk into the bathroom quickly brushing my teeth then walking out into the hallway towards the elevator.
There is only one person who can give me the comfort that I need. But before the doors open I realize that I have no idea what his floor or room number is. I am just about to turn around when the doors open and there he is. I feel a great deal of relief come to me. When he looks up I walk into those welcoming arms. I press my face into his chest and cry, my tears, again, staining his shirt. And he says those words that never work. "Everything is going to be alright." But my everything are not right. My everythings have been washed away by the fear that any moment my mother will die. My everythings have disappeared.
We silently ride up the elvator to our floor, our minds trying to collect all of the things that are happening to us and mom.
When the doors open to floor eight, we retreat into the hallway our thoughts cluttered with so many others that trying to think right seems incomprehendible. I look at dad to see if he knows at least where his room is. He does but he can't seem to swipe his card through the lock. I take it from him and do it myself. The door clicks and I push it open. Dad still seems lost, so I guide him in, give him a hug, and kiss him goodnight.
As I walk into my own room the emptiness filling it up so much that I just want to lie in my bed and cry until there is no tear left. But I don't. Instead I walk over to the window by it and look down at the cars below. I watch as each one waits for a pedestrian to cross, the headlights lighting their appearance as they pass into the night.
As I watch I count remembering as many great times of my life with my parents as I can before another car passes. The highest I get to is eight. Pretty soon though I get sick of it and walk into the bathroom quickly brushing my teeth then walking out into the hallway towards the elevator.
There is only one person who can give me the comfort that I need. But before the doors open I realize that I have no idea what his floor or room number is. I am just about to turn around when the doors open and there he is. I feel a great deal of relief come to me. When he looks up I walk into those welcoming arms. I press my face into his chest and cry, my tears, again, staining his shirt. And he says those words that never work. "Everything is going to be alright." But my everything are not right. My everythings have been washed away by the fear that any moment my mother will die. My everythings have disappeared.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Anna
CHAPTER TEN
When we finally make it back to the hotel we are silent as the elevator reaches the eighth floor. When it dings and the door open's we walk out, our minds cluttered with all of what has happened.
I turn to dad and see that the rims of his eyes are red. Most likely from lack of sleep watching over mom. I give him a quick hug and notice that my eyes are stinging again with tears. We say goodnight to eachother and walk into our rooms.
As I approch the center of my room it feels so empty. And all that I want to do right now is curl up into a ball and cry until there is no tear left. But I don't. Instead I walk over to the window next to my bed and look out at all of the people and cars below. As each headlight stops and waits for another pedestrian to cross, I think of each great moments in my life with my parents, seeing how many I can count before another car passes. The most that I get to is eight.
I give up on that, brush my teeth quick, and walk towards the door. I open it and walk down the hallway to the elevator. There is one person that I need right now that will give me the comfort and security that Dad can't give. And then as the doors are opening and I realize I have no idea what his room number is, there he is. I walk towards him and he enfolds me into his arms.
"Conner," I cry, "things are going bad. And I can't stop it."
He kisses my head then says, "Anna, no need to worry. Things will get better somehow."
But I don't know if I believe that. My father has said the same thing to me many times. But now the somehow seems impossible.
When we finally make it back to the hotel we are silent as the elevator reaches the eighth floor. When it dings and the door open's we walk out, our minds cluttered with all of what has happened.
I turn to dad and see that the rims of his eyes are red. Most likely from lack of sleep watching over mom. I give him a quick hug and notice that my eyes are stinging again with tears. We say goodnight to eachother and walk into our rooms.
As I approch the center of my room it feels so empty. And all that I want to do right now is curl up into a ball and cry until there is no tear left. But I don't. Instead I walk over to the window next to my bed and look out at all of the people and cars below. As each headlight stops and waits for another pedestrian to cross, I think of each great moments in my life with my parents, seeing how many I can count before another car passes. The most that I get to is eight.
I give up on that, brush my teeth quick, and walk towards the door. I open it and walk down the hallway to the elevator. There is one person that I need right now that will give me the comfort and security that Dad can't give. And then as the doors are opening and I realize I have no idea what his room number is, there he is. I walk towards him and he enfolds me into his arms.
"Conner," I cry, "things are going bad. And I can't stop it."
He kisses my head then says, "Anna, no need to worry. Things will get better somehow."
But I don't know if I believe that. My father has said the same thing to me many times. But now the somehow seems impossible.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Anna
CHAPTER TEN
When we leave mom alone in her room, and start to walk back to the car, I feel different. Like things will never be the same again. But most of all I feel hurt. Hurt that my parents didn't confide in me about it. Hurt that they didn't know what to say. And I am hurt because we tell each other everything. At least I thought we did. Now, I don't know.
When we finally reach the car and dad is unlocking the doors, I think of the time when I was a kid, before when to unlock the doors someone had to be on the inside first to open them. I look around and guess that most of the cars here are automatic with just pressing a button to unlock them.
I remember that we never had those luxury's, still don't, and remember how happy we were without them. How happy we were with all of the trials that stepped on our door step, and we still were not affected. Then suddenly I remember the time when I was a little girl. I had just graduated from kindergarten, and to congratulate me my parents were going to get me an Ice cream cone. I was so excited that at first I didn't notice the car crash into mom's side.
But almost instantaneously I reached forward for her, but something was pulling me back, some sort of strong fabric holding me in. I fought against it but just could not win. And so with my losing I sat back and began to cry. The seat belt, I now realized that was holding me back, seemed like a demon. Never giving up on pulling me away from my mother. And with a cry I called her name. When she didn't respond I shouted it, shouted it as loud as my lungs would let me, and unbuckled my seat belt and reached forward trying to shake her awake. But nothing worked. She was completely unconscious.
After a few minutes I noticed that my father was not there. I started to cry again, shouting out his name. Then suddenly a strangly familiar voice greeted me. I looked to my right, and before me sat a beautiful woman with long blond hair in a glowing white dress that came down to her feet. In fact, everything about her was glowing.
I looked at her and said, "Who are you?"
She smiled then said, "Who do you think I am?"
"A Princess," I replied simply, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
She smiled agian, "I am your angel." She whispered.
I crawled up next to her then quietly said, "Did you save me then? Me and my mommy?"
"Yes."
"Will my mommy be okay?"
"She will be. Trust me."
"I do." I said, then a question came to my mind. "Where are your wings? I thought that all angels had wings."
She paused, with that continuing smile, then replied, "Where I come from, we don't have wings. But our beauty shows the angel inside of us. And that is how bright we shine. My father is the brightest of them all."
"Can I meet him?"
"You will someday. Just do your best and through your trials you will meet him."
"Why not now?"
"You'll find out in good time." She said leaning forward and kissing me on the forhead. Then she was gone, out of sight.
Right when tears were about to flud through me again, I felt myself being carried out of the broken remains of the car and onto a flat table and into an ambulance.
When again I didn't see my mother I began to cry. And then warm soothing hands were petting my head, shushing my crys. When I looked up to see who it was I saw that it was my father, telling me everything was going to be alright. I press my face against his hand, tears burning my eyes, before something puts me under.
Now back to reality, my body in my seat, I look over at my dad. And before he could start the car I leaned towards him and gave him a big hug, knowing that if mom didn't make it through this, dad was all I had left. For a second he seemed surprised, but then he wrapped his arms around me as well and whispered those ever so soothing words into my ear. Everything will be alright.
When we leave mom alone in her room, and start to walk back to the car, I feel different. Like things will never be the same again. But most of all I feel hurt. Hurt that my parents didn't confide in me about it. Hurt that they didn't know what to say. And I am hurt because we tell each other everything. At least I thought we did. Now, I don't know.
When we finally reach the car and dad is unlocking the doors, I think of the time when I was a kid, before when to unlock the doors someone had to be on the inside first to open them. I look around and guess that most of the cars here are automatic with just pressing a button to unlock them.
I remember that we never had those luxury's, still don't, and remember how happy we were without them. How happy we were with all of the trials that stepped on our door step, and we still were not affected. Then suddenly I remember the time when I was a little girl. I had just graduated from kindergarten, and to congratulate me my parents were going to get me an Ice cream cone. I was so excited that at first I didn't notice the car crash into mom's side.
But almost instantaneously I reached forward for her, but something was pulling me back, some sort of strong fabric holding me in. I fought against it but just could not win. And so with my losing I sat back and began to cry. The seat belt, I now realized that was holding me back, seemed like a demon. Never giving up on pulling me away from my mother. And with a cry I called her name. When she didn't respond I shouted it, shouted it as loud as my lungs would let me, and unbuckled my seat belt and reached forward trying to shake her awake. But nothing worked. She was completely unconscious.
After a few minutes I noticed that my father was not there. I started to cry again, shouting out his name. Then suddenly a strangly familiar voice greeted me. I looked to my right, and before me sat a beautiful woman with long blond hair in a glowing white dress that came down to her feet. In fact, everything about her was glowing.
I looked at her and said, "Who are you?"
She smiled then said, "Who do you think I am?"
"A Princess," I replied simply, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
She smiled agian, "I am your angel." She whispered.
I crawled up next to her then quietly said, "Did you save me then? Me and my mommy?"
"Yes."
"Will my mommy be okay?"
"She will be. Trust me."
"I do." I said, then a question came to my mind. "Where are your wings? I thought that all angels had wings."
She paused, with that continuing smile, then replied, "Where I come from, we don't have wings. But our beauty shows the angel inside of us. And that is how bright we shine. My father is the brightest of them all."
"Can I meet him?"
"You will someday. Just do your best and through your trials you will meet him."
"Why not now?"
"You'll find out in good time." She said leaning forward and kissing me on the forhead. Then she was gone, out of sight.
Right when tears were about to flud through me again, I felt myself being carried out of the broken remains of the car and onto a flat table and into an ambulance.
When again I didn't see my mother I began to cry. And then warm soothing hands were petting my head, shushing my crys. When I looked up to see who it was I saw that it was my father, telling me everything was going to be alright. I press my face against his hand, tears burning my eyes, before something puts me under.
Now back to reality, my body in my seat, I look over at my dad. And before he could start the car I leaned towards him and gave him a big hug, knowing that if mom didn't make it through this, dad was all I had left. For a second he seemed surprised, but then he wrapped his arms around me as well and whispered those ever so soothing words into my ear. Everything will be alright.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Anna
CHAPTER NINE - CONTINUED
When we approached the doors to my mothers room I could see people sitting, waiting for the doctors to call their name. As I passed one of them, a boy, he was sitting on the chair holding a large ice pack pressed to his head. I couldn't really tell what was there, but I didn't really want to know.
When we walked in mom lay on the bed, eyes closed. Almost like she was concentrating. Slowly I walked up to her, gently sitting on the side of the bed. I grabbed her hand and held it in mine. I gently rubbed my thumb back and forth, on her soft hands. Her eyes started to open, but then they stopped, as if too tiered to try.
I looked at mom, then at dad. Dad stared at me, and then directed his attention towards mom again. I began rubbing her hand again, her eyes ever so slowly opening.
"Mom?" I said softly.
She didn't reply, off into her own world.
"Mom?" I said a little louder.
She now turned her head towards me, looking at me sleepily. "Hello me darlin."
"How are you mom?"
"Ah, tiered." She then did that half smile of hers.
I smiled and just sat there with her.
After about an hour of my mom lazily talking to me then falling asleep, dad pulled me out of the room.
"Anna," he said. "I need to tell yeh somethin'. it's about yer mam."
"What? What about her?" I said anxiously.
"Sh-sh-she only has a little over a month left."
"What? B-but we only found out just recently."
"Actually Anna..." he paused. "...your mother and I have known for a while now. It hasn't been until now that it has affected her so much."
"You knew?" I said hurt.
He took a breath then said, "Yes."
"Well, why didn't you tell me?"
"We didn't know how."
"And so you decided to now that she's almost dead?"
"Anna listen to me. Your mother didn't want you to be worried about her, and get that mixed up with school. She - we wanted whats best for you. I know that yer mad, but I just want yeh to understand. We love you, and just want you happy."
After about a minute of sinking it all in, I finally said, "I understand." And then dad put his arm on my shoulder and then led me back in.
When we approached the doors to my mothers room I could see people sitting, waiting for the doctors to call their name. As I passed one of them, a boy, he was sitting on the chair holding a large ice pack pressed to his head. I couldn't really tell what was there, but I didn't really want to know.
When we walked in mom lay on the bed, eyes closed. Almost like she was concentrating. Slowly I walked up to her, gently sitting on the side of the bed. I grabbed her hand and held it in mine. I gently rubbed my thumb back and forth, on her soft hands. Her eyes started to open, but then they stopped, as if too tiered to try.
I looked at mom, then at dad. Dad stared at me, and then directed his attention towards mom again. I began rubbing her hand again, her eyes ever so slowly opening.
"Mom?" I said softly.
She didn't reply, off into her own world.
"Mom?" I said a little louder.
She now turned her head towards me, looking at me sleepily. "Hello me darlin."
"How are you mom?"
"Ah, tiered." She then did that half smile of hers.
I smiled and just sat there with her.
After about an hour of my mom lazily talking to me then falling asleep, dad pulled me out of the room.
"Anna," he said. "I need to tell yeh somethin'. it's about yer mam."
"What? What about her?" I said anxiously.
"Sh-sh-she only has a little over a month left."
"What? B-but we only found out just recently."
"Actually Anna..." he paused. "...your mother and I have known for a while now. It hasn't been until now that it has affected her so much."
"You knew?" I said hurt.
He took a breath then said, "Yes."
"Well, why didn't you tell me?"
"We didn't know how."
"And so you decided to now that she's almost dead?"
"Anna listen to me. Your mother didn't want you to be worried about her, and get that mixed up with school. She - we wanted whats best for you. I know that yer mad, but I just want yeh to understand. We love you, and just want you happy."
After about a minute of sinking it all in, I finally said, "I understand." And then dad put his arm on my shoulder and then led me back in.
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