I took another bite of cake and munched it thoughtfully; this was not an easy thing to figure out.
"Well, what if we had Kate come the first half and John come the second half." Someone suggested.
"That won't work. You know Kate will be furious if she found out she had to leave for him."
"Then just don't invite John, he bugs me anyhow! Kate's our closer friend so she should be able to go - no strings attatched."
"Kate is your closer friend, we all love John as well..."
"They just don't go well...together."
I swallowed another bite, jsut listening to the conversation in our little group around our round table. Then I saw her. "Guys! Guys, she's coming!"
Everyone closed their mouths instantly and looked over.
"Hey Kate!" We all said, smiling suspiciously.
She didn't seem to notice, "Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know I can't come to that party you were planning for next Saturday. My mom decided she wants me to help her throw a baby shower for Aunt Jean."
"Oh really, that stinks, I'm sorry." I said
"That's okay, it should still be fun. You guys have a good time, okay?" She waved and walked off.
We all looked at each other for a moment till someone said, "Well, problem solved!"
Monday, March 26, 2012
Ordinary Breakfast
There was a bowl of Reese's Puffs cereal sitting in front of me on the table; my favorite cereal. I stared at the little brown and tan balls of sugar bobbing in my milk then carefully gathered a spoonful of brown ones - there were too many, I had to get rid of them. I sued my spoon to pair each brown one with a tan one. Still too many browns. So, I ate some more. Perfect. I smiled at my little 'couples', dancing around in the milk, none of them lonely. Then I ate them each in their pair and imagined them all begging for me to eat them last.
The last couple was there and it seemed the lady of the group - the tan one - really did not want to be eaten, because she was purposefully avoiding my spoon.
I finally got her! The boy and girl both on my spoon, I shoved them into my mouth along with a little milk and crunched into the last bite of deliciousness.
The last couple was there and it seemed the lady of the group - the tan one - really did not want to be eaten, because she was purposefully avoiding my spoon.
I finally got her! The boy and girl both on my spoon, I shoved them into my mouth along with a little milk and crunched into the last bite of deliciousness.
The Climb
Suddenly, my legs buckled up and I pressed myself against the rock. I swallowed the fear down my throat and yelled, "Joanie, I'm stuck!" All I could do was cling to the little grips I had and pray she could hear me. She didn't answer. "Joanie?!" I yelled a bit louder, my voice riddled with fear.
"What?" Her voice sounded so far away, but it immediately soothed me.
"I'm stuck!" I yelled again.
"Hold on!" She yelled back, and before I knew it she was by my side, "What's the matter?"
"I'm stuck, my legs won't move." I said, now shaking just a bit.
"It's alright, you're just scared. We'll take this one step at a time. Together, okay?"
I nodded.
"Alright now, straighten your legs and there's another hold just over there..."
"What?" Her voice sounded so far away, but it immediately soothed me.
"I'm stuck!" I yelled again.
"Hold on!" She yelled back, and before I knew it she was by my side, "What's the matter?"
"I'm stuck, my legs won't move." I said, now shaking just a bit.
"It's alright, you're just scared. We'll take this one step at a time. Together, okay?"
I nodded.
"Alright now, straighten your legs and there's another hold just over there..."
Friday, March 23, 2012
Coach's Daughter
Another ball caught, then kicked back onto the field; he was good. I looked up at the coach, his brows were furrowed as his eyes followed the ball like a hawk.
"Dad, what's the goalie's name again?"
He didn't answer.
"Dad."
He glanced at me then turned back to the game, "Yeah, honey."
"What's the goalie's name?"
"Davis, best one I've ever had."
"Yeah, I know. You told me. But didn't he get a concussion last year? I didn't think he'd come back."
"Oh yeah, he loves this game. Loves being a goalie. He's a bit timid around those poles now, though. He's still great."
As if to prove my dad's point, Davis dove for another ball, gripping it firmly in his hands and sliding across the grass.
It was the start of the new school year, and the new soccer season. Dad loved his job as coach, and wanted me to be on the team, but after five years of forced torture, he let me quit. Soccer was a good game, but me? I wasn't made for sports. I was more for the academics, thinking things through and working it out with my head, not my feet.
This year, Davis was in one of my school classes. Despite the fact that he'd been on my dad's team for about three years now, I hardly knew him at all. Because of all my AP classes, I was usually doing homework instead of going to games and practices with my dad. Ever since high school started, it's been pretty crazy. But now it was my senior year, I'd taken all the AP classes offered at my school (?), so I was taking it easy. I had nice, simple classes, and some of them were even fun. So, as a result of my not-so-hard classes, I was "able" to go to more games with my Dad.
Not that I minded watching soccer, but I was hoping I might actually have a social life this year. Dad thinks I should hook-up with one of the guys on the team. He's worried since I haven't had a boyfriend all through high school. He's so weird; shouldn't that make him happy?
I sighed and turned back to the game. The score was tied and there was only about 10 minutes left, that's why my dad was so tense.
The other team was coming down the field again with the ball, the guy was seriously sprinting down and slowly pulling ahead of everyone. I was Davis preparing. The guy kicked the ball a bit too far in front of him, so Davis went for it, and just as he had it in his hands, the boy kicked it and it flew the two feet to his face and knocked him to the ground.
The ref blew the whistle, and my dad rushed onto the field. Davis sad up slowly, holding his head, blood was rushing down his face. I followed behind my dad slowly.
"I think my nose is broken." Davis mumbled.
I stayed back, trying to watch my dad instead of the blood still running down Davis' face.
"Alright," My dad said, "Come on, I'm going to take you to the hospital."
"What about the game?" Davis asked
"I'll put McCormick in, it'll be okay."
"Dad." I piped up.
"They'll be okay for ten minutes..."
"Dad!" He looked over at me. "You stay here for the game, I can take him."
He blinked, "Oh, yes. You do that." He turned back to Davis who was staring at me. "Davis, go with Amy. Amy, grab one of those towels from the back for him, please." He helped him up then Davis followed me down the hill to the parking lot. I rummaged through the trunk, skipping over my favorite towel, then brought an old one to him that he promptly wiped his face with, then held to his nose.
I climbed into the drivers seat and glanced at him. Despite the blood smeared on his face and the sweat still on his forehead, I could tell he was handsome. Our drive to the hospital was quiet. I stayed in the waiting room when the nurse took him in. I'm sure he wouldn't want me there, and personally I didn't like the thought of seeing all that dried blood or his broken nose.
My dad showed up a few minutes later. "Hey, how's he doing?"
"I don't know. Where's the team?" I asked.
"It's not that serious, they didn't want to embarrass him. What do you mean you don't know?"
"I haven't been in there."
"Well, come on."
I talked to the lady at the desk and she let us in. When we walked into the room, he was laying down on the bed. His face was all cleaned up now, but his nose was a bit swollen.
"Please let him rest."
I jumped a little and turned to see a nurse in the doorway.
"He has a minor concussion and needs some sleep."
"Is his nose broken?" My dad asked.
"Yes, but it's only a fracture. He shouldn't need surgery. I've got the x-rays right here."
Dad went over to see them, so I went down and sat by the bed. I looked over his still figure, peacefully sleeping. Or so I thought.
"Could you call my parents."
I sat up, his eyes were still closed. I stared at him for a moment, he peeked at me, "Please."
"Uh, sure." I took out my cell phone, then waited for him to tell me their number. "Um...Davis?"
He didn't move.
"Davis?"
Still nothing. I couldn't figure out if he really fell asleep or if he was just ignoring me. I stared at him for a moment longer then turned to my dad. "Hey Dad, what's Davis' parent's number?" I asked.
"Hm?" He looked at me, "Oh!" he quickly rummaged through his pockets and brought out a crumpled piece of paper, "Here hun, it's the home number."
I stood up and took the paper, then searched down the list, obviously typed by my dad, till I found Davis. There were two numbers, I found the home one, like he said, and dialed it. It rang, and rang, and rang. No one answered.
"You've reached the Davis residence, leave a message at the tone." A man said, he sounded like he could be the machine recording.
It beeped. "Hello, this is Amy Evans, the daughter of Coach Evans. I just wanted to let you know your son, Davis, is in the hospital . It's nothing serious, he has a fracture in his nose and a minor concussion, but he's fine. He told me to call you, he's down at _______ hospital. We'll be driving him home. Thanks. Bye."
I handed the list back to my dad, he was still talking to the nurse. She wanted him to wait till Davis woke up to take him home. Dad was trying to debate with her, but I knew it was only 'cause there was a game on tonight that he wanted to see.
I let them argue it out, then looked at Davis again, pretty sure he was asleep this time. He was still in half of his uniform, you could see his cleats sticking out of the bottom of the blanket. The blanket that was probably only there because his blood shirt was hung over the chair next to him instead of on his body.
I was interrupted in my observing again, but it turns out I would have plenty more time later. My dad decided that I should stay behind to take Davis home, since we had two cars and all, and he would go home and make dinner. Or so that's what he told the nurse. Only I knew that my dad was irresponsible in everything but his job. And only I knew that my dad hadn't cooked dinner since my mom left back when I was five.
So, I was left alone with sleeping Davis. My only entertainment being the room around me and the 'snake' game on my phone.
After I died again on my game, I peeked at Davis. Man, this guy can sleep. I sighed and went back to my playing.
That got boring fast, so I put my phone away and looked around. The room was getting darker as the sun lowered into the clouds lining the horizon. I was really tempted to just poke him or something so he would wake up. He could sleep at home for goodness sake, I'm hungry! And a warm dinner won't be waiting for me at home, I pouted, I have to make it first. Ugh, and I never got any homework done!
"Who are you?"
My eyes popped open and I looked around for a nurse, but found only Davis sitting there with his eyes open.
"Oh, um. You don't remember me? I'm Amy Evans, Coach Evans daughter."
His face hardened, "What are you doing here?"
I looked at him, surprised and a bit confused, "M-my dad told me to take you home when you woke up."
He sighed and sat up, only then did I realize how muscular he was. Out on the feild, and in the corner of the classroom, he could look almost gangly because he was so thin. But up close I could see the definition in each of his muscles, the way they stretched and flexed across his back as he stood up.
He looked back at me, "Lets go." I blushed a little, realizing I was gawking, then followed him out the door.
The car ride was tense, he had been so cold to me in the hospital I wasn't sure what was wrong. I assumed he was just grumpy, I'm sure his nose hurt, and probably his head too.
"My dad really likes you on the team." I said, trying to break the silence.
"Turn left here." He said stiffly.
"He says you're the best goalie he's ever had."
"Right there." He pointed at a house.
"Are you going to play next year?" I asked as one last attempt to get a kind response from him.
He looked me square in the eye, "I don't care about your father or his stupid team. So, quit trying to be all friendly with me and just bug off." He climbed out and slammed the door, leaving me speachless.
"Dad, what's the goalie's name again?"
He didn't answer.
"Dad."
He glanced at me then turned back to the game, "Yeah, honey."
"What's the goalie's name?"
"Davis, best one I've ever had."
"Yeah, I know. You told me. But didn't he get a concussion last year? I didn't think he'd come back."
"Oh yeah, he loves this game. Loves being a goalie. He's a bit timid around those poles now, though. He's still great."
As if to prove my dad's point, Davis dove for another ball, gripping it firmly in his hands and sliding across the grass.
It was the start of the new school year, and the new soccer season. Dad loved his job as coach, and wanted me to be on the team, but after five years of forced torture, he let me quit. Soccer was a good game, but me? I wasn't made for sports. I was more for the academics, thinking things through and working it out with my head, not my feet.
This year, Davis was in one of my school classes. Despite the fact that he'd been on my dad's team for about three years now, I hardly knew him at all. Because of all my AP classes, I was usually doing homework instead of going to games and practices with my dad. Ever since high school started, it's been pretty crazy. But now it was my senior year, I'd taken all the AP classes offered at my school (?), so I was taking it easy. I had nice, simple classes, and some of them were even fun. So, as a result of my not-so-hard classes, I was "able" to go to more games with my Dad.
Not that I minded watching soccer, but I was hoping I might actually have a social life this year. Dad thinks I should hook-up with one of the guys on the team. He's worried since I haven't had a boyfriend all through high school. He's so weird; shouldn't that make him happy?
I sighed and turned back to the game. The score was tied and there was only about 10 minutes left, that's why my dad was so tense.
The other team was coming down the field again with the ball, the guy was seriously sprinting down and slowly pulling ahead of everyone. I was Davis preparing. The guy kicked the ball a bit too far in front of him, so Davis went for it, and just as he had it in his hands, the boy kicked it and it flew the two feet to his face and knocked him to the ground.
The ref blew the whistle, and my dad rushed onto the field. Davis sad up slowly, holding his head, blood was rushing down his face. I followed behind my dad slowly.
"I think my nose is broken." Davis mumbled.
I stayed back, trying to watch my dad instead of the blood still running down Davis' face.
"Alright," My dad said, "Come on, I'm going to take you to the hospital."
"What about the game?" Davis asked
"I'll put McCormick in, it'll be okay."
"Dad." I piped up.
"They'll be okay for ten minutes..."
"Dad!" He looked over at me. "You stay here for the game, I can take him."
He blinked, "Oh, yes. You do that." He turned back to Davis who was staring at me. "Davis, go with Amy. Amy, grab one of those towels from the back for him, please." He helped him up then Davis followed me down the hill to the parking lot. I rummaged through the trunk, skipping over my favorite towel, then brought an old one to him that he promptly wiped his face with, then held to his nose.
I climbed into the drivers seat and glanced at him. Despite the blood smeared on his face and the sweat still on his forehead, I could tell he was handsome. Our drive to the hospital was quiet. I stayed in the waiting room when the nurse took him in. I'm sure he wouldn't want me there, and personally I didn't like the thought of seeing all that dried blood or his broken nose.
My dad showed up a few minutes later. "Hey, how's he doing?"
"I don't know. Where's the team?" I asked.
"It's not that serious, they didn't want to embarrass him. What do you mean you don't know?"
"I haven't been in there."
"Well, come on."
I talked to the lady at the desk and she let us in. When we walked into the room, he was laying down on the bed. His face was all cleaned up now, but his nose was a bit swollen.
"Please let him rest."
I jumped a little and turned to see a nurse in the doorway.
"He has a minor concussion and needs some sleep."
"Is his nose broken?" My dad asked.
"Yes, but it's only a fracture. He shouldn't need surgery. I've got the x-rays right here."
Dad went over to see them, so I went down and sat by the bed. I looked over his still figure, peacefully sleeping. Or so I thought.
"Could you call my parents."
I sat up, his eyes were still closed. I stared at him for a moment, he peeked at me, "Please."
"Uh, sure." I took out my cell phone, then waited for him to tell me their number. "Um...Davis?"
He didn't move.
"Davis?"
Still nothing. I couldn't figure out if he really fell asleep or if he was just ignoring me. I stared at him for a moment longer then turned to my dad. "Hey Dad, what's Davis' parent's number?" I asked.
"Hm?" He looked at me, "Oh!" he quickly rummaged through his pockets and brought out a crumpled piece of paper, "Here hun, it's the home number."
I stood up and took the paper, then searched down the list, obviously typed by my dad, till I found Davis. There were two numbers, I found the home one, like he said, and dialed it. It rang, and rang, and rang. No one answered.
"You've reached the Davis residence, leave a message at the tone." A man said, he sounded like he could be the machine recording.
It beeped. "Hello, this is Amy Evans, the daughter of Coach Evans. I just wanted to let you know your son, Davis, is in the hospital . It's nothing serious, he has a fracture in his nose and a minor concussion, but he's fine. He told me to call you, he's down at _______ hospital. We'll be driving him home. Thanks. Bye."
I handed the list back to my dad, he was still talking to the nurse. She wanted him to wait till Davis woke up to take him home. Dad was trying to debate with her, but I knew it was only 'cause there was a game on tonight that he wanted to see.
I let them argue it out, then looked at Davis again, pretty sure he was asleep this time. He was still in half of his uniform, you could see his cleats sticking out of the bottom of the blanket. The blanket that was probably only there because his blood shirt was hung over the chair next to him instead of on his body.
I was interrupted in my observing again, but it turns out I would have plenty more time later. My dad decided that I should stay behind to take Davis home, since we had two cars and all, and he would go home and make dinner. Or so that's what he told the nurse. Only I knew that my dad was irresponsible in everything but his job. And only I knew that my dad hadn't cooked dinner since my mom left back when I was five.
So, I was left alone with sleeping Davis. My only entertainment being the room around me and the 'snake' game on my phone.
After I died again on my game, I peeked at Davis. Man, this guy can sleep. I sighed and went back to my playing.
That got boring fast, so I put my phone away and looked around. The room was getting darker as the sun lowered into the clouds lining the horizon. I was really tempted to just poke him or something so he would wake up. He could sleep at home for goodness sake, I'm hungry! And a warm dinner won't be waiting for me at home, I pouted, I have to make it first. Ugh, and I never got any homework done!
"Who are you?"
My eyes popped open and I looked around for a nurse, but found only Davis sitting there with his eyes open.
"Oh, um. You don't remember me? I'm Amy Evans, Coach Evans daughter."
His face hardened, "What are you doing here?"
I looked at him, surprised and a bit confused, "M-my dad told me to take you home when you woke up."
He sighed and sat up, only then did I realize how muscular he was. Out on the feild, and in the corner of the classroom, he could look almost gangly because he was so thin. But up close I could see the definition in each of his muscles, the way they stretched and flexed across his back as he stood up.
He looked back at me, "Lets go." I blushed a little, realizing I was gawking, then followed him out the door.
The car ride was tense, he had been so cold to me in the hospital I wasn't sure what was wrong. I assumed he was just grumpy, I'm sure his nose hurt, and probably his head too.
"My dad really likes you on the team." I said, trying to break the silence.
"Turn left here." He said stiffly.
"He says you're the best goalie he's ever had."
"Right there." He pointed at a house.
"Are you going to play next year?" I asked as one last attempt to get a kind response from him.
He looked me square in the eye, "I don't care about your father or his stupid team. So, quit trying to be all friendly with me and just bug off." He climbed out and slammed the door, leaving me speachless.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Holding On
He was funny, smart, and wonderful. Always kind and gentleman-like. Why was I thinking these things as I was going to break up with him? I know he's waiting just down that hall, I can't chicken out now. But I know I'll miss the good-morning texts he sends me, he's never missed a single day. And the muffins he sometimes brings over on Sunday mornings. I caught a smile on my face that I quickly lost. No, it's been too long, I've gotten too involved with him. I've never let someone in so much, he's got too big of a hold on me.
There he was. Standing by the wall, as usual, staring off into space. He looked around, caught my eye, and smiled that beautiful, familiar smile. He walked over, his blue eyes sparkling, "Good morning." He said, then paused, his smile fading a bit and his brows furrowing, "Is something wrong?"
I looked up at him, genuine concern on his face. "No, nothing's wrong." I guess I could live like this a bit longer. I smiled and gently took his hand.
There he was. Standing by the wall, as usual, staring off into space. He looked around, caught my eye, and smiled that beautiful, familiar smile. He walked over, his blue eyes sparkling, "Good morning." He said, then paused, his smile fading a bit and his brows furrowing, "Is something wrong?"
I looked up at him, genuine concern on his face. "No, nothing's wrong." I guess I could live like this a bit longer. I smiled and gently took his hand.
Peace and Quiet?
Not a single Happy Birthday! Not one. She trudged up to her apartment, homework in hand. And I thought I'd made some friends. I didn't want a replay of last year, when I'd only gotten on 'Happy Birthday'. Congratulations, it's a new record. She rolled her eyes and walked up the hard steps, the clicking of her shoes echoing throughout the empty stairwell. Well, guess it's going to be another lonely night. I think I've got some ice cream left in the freezer still. Her keys jingled as she unlocked her door. Peace and quiet is nice, right? She thought, just as she was blasted with light and multiple screams of "Surprise!!"
Inevitable, historical relationship: Escape
This place is such a mad world. A world where someone can seem so right, but be so wrong. Where everything could work out, except for all those little things working against you, slowly building up, making a wall just beneath you, making you choose one thing or another. Once you choose a side, the wall will finish and that thing on the other side will forever be gone. And you will never know whether it stayed there, hoping the wall would go away, praying that you were still there as well. Or, is it left, leaving you with another decision: To hang onto something that is forever gone, or to let go. But, for now, you are stuck in the middle, both sides enticing, but only one right choice. The wall is slowly building up beneath you and if you don't choose soon it will pluck you off your feet and turn your world upside down. And instead of gracefully stepping to one side or the other, you will fall. The longer you wait, the farther you will fall. The more it will hurt. And the bigger the scars will be that are left.
Element-Water
I have always loved the water, whether the ocean, a lake, or a pool. I especially love when the water is all calm and it's the perfect temperature and it feels like silk on your skin. Water is so wonderful, and yet, I've always been afraid of it deep down.
Water, you can drown in it. Big waves can tangle you up and currents can drag you out to sea. Even just swimming too deep in a pool and feeling like you won't have enough air to come back up is scary. But, my worst fear is to crash a car in the water. Having it fill up and not being able to open the doors because of the pressure.
Water is something so powerful and essential to our existence. It is so peaceful and beautiful and fun, yet so deadly.
Water, you can drown in it. Big waves can tangle you up and currents can drag you out to sea. Even just swimming too deep in a pool and feeling like you won't have enough air to come back up is scary. But, my worst fear is to crash a car in the water. Having it fill up and not being able to open the doors because of the pressure.
Water is something so powerful and essential to our existence. It is so peaceful and beautiful and fun, yet so deadly.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Accusations
"You only like me for my brother!" She turned away, furiously fighting back the tears, and started down the stairs, desperately hoping he would prove her wrong.
"That's not true!" He said. Empty words. "Please, you can't believe that that's true!"
She whirled around, sudden anger flaring, "Any why not?!" She yelled, the tears hot on her cheeks, "The only reason you're nice to me is 'cause otherwise my brother wouldn't like you anymore and you're afraid he'll kick you off the teame!" She jabbed at his chest with her finger, "You know that I like you so quit playing me! I don't want your attention unless you're honestly giving it to me and I know that you're not so just leave me alone!"
She left him with his mouth hanging open and she rushed down the stairs, expecting that to be the end of it, but she heard footsteps rushing behind her, then a hand tugged on her arm...
"That's not true!" He said. Empty words. "Please, you can't believe that that's true!"
She whirled around, sudden anger flaring, "Any why not?!" She yelled, the tears hot on her cheeks, "The only reason you're nice to me is 'cause otherwise my brother wouldn't like you anymore and you're afraid he'll kick you off the teame!" She jabbed at his chest with her finger, "You know that I like you so quit playing me! I don't want your attention unless you're honestly giving it to me and I know that you're not so just leave me alone!"
She left him with his mouth hanging open and she rushed down the stairs, expecting that to be the end of it, but she heard footsteps rushing behind her, then a hand tugged on her arm...
Rebels
"So, is that a yes?" I asked. The men looked around, fidgeting with their swords and axes, but their captain was strong and still, staring me down, analyzing every part of my being. I stared right back, shoulders back, chin up. After a moment, he stuck out his hand. It took me a moment to shake back, I was so surprised, then he called, "Alright men, welcome the new member of the Rebels."
They took a moment as well, I guess we were all shocked, but then they cheered and they all came to welcome me. Well, almost all of them.
The co-captain's eyes were hard as he walked away. He was young to be holding such a high-up position, but very capable. Oh so very capable. I tore my eyes away from him and went back to shaking hands, then followed them to the armory, which was even deeper into the trees and past the lake...
They took a moment as well, I guess we were all shocked, but then they cheered and they all came to welcome me. Well, almost all of them.
The co-captain's eyes were hard as he walked away. He was young to be holding such a high-up position, but very capable. Oh so very capable. I tore my eyes away from him and went back to shaking hands, then followed them to the armory, which was even deeper into the trees and past the lake...
Sibling
My sibling I'm talking about is my older sister, Sharae. She is now nineteen years old, it's crazy to think. When we were little people used to think we were twins. We're very alike, actually sometimes we think that we're twins as well, but we are also very different. We can be the closest and nicest to each other and understand each other, or we can be the most evil to each other and get so mad. But we will always come back together.
My sister is very artistic, she loves art. She also gets lazy sometimes, where she'll sit watching t.v. half the day or just play on the computer. And then there's times where she goes into crazy cleaning mode where she wants to clean everything and she can't sleep until her room is spotless! She's not the most cautious person either. Me, I'm always worried. 'If you do this, even if it's not bad, then this could happen and that would be bad!' And she just throws those worries out the window and goes for it anyhow. She's also pretty nuts. She tries crazy things with her hair and she hops around like a weirdo. She rubbed off on me a little bit.
At my dad's house, Sharae and I share a room. She always saying, "Get your stuff off of the counter" and "Make your shelf look nice." Wen she gets into her cleaning mode it's even worse. She tries to move my stuff and wants me to clean right along with her. It frustrates her because my part isn't as clean as she wants it to be. It bugs me because she tries to make it that way.
My sister is very artistic, she loves art. She also gets lazy sometimes, where she'll sit watching t.v. half the day or just play on the computer. And then there's times where she goes into crazy cleaning mode where she wants to clean everything and she can't sleep until her room is spotless! She's not the most cautious person either. Me, I'm always worried. 'If you do this, even if it's not bad, then this could happen and that would be bad!' And she just throws those worries out the window and goes for it anyhow. She's also pretty nuts. She tries crazy things with her hair and she hops around like a weirdo. She rubbed off on me a little bit.
At my dad's house, Sharae and I share a room. She always saying, "Get your stuff off of the counter" and "Make your shelf look nice." Wen she gets into her cleaning mode it's even worse. She tries to move my stuff and wants me to clean right along with her. It frustrates her because my part isn't as clean as she wants it to be. It bugs me because she tries to make it that way.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Light Switch
Perched on the little white fence, her dress fluttering frantically about her knees, she stared at the lightning furiously striking the ground just across the lake. The lake was aglow with the lights from the city, twinkling in different colors. The lightning stopped for a moment and her eyes soaked in the black night around her, searching for something to momentarily hold her attention. She vaguely made out the little dust clouds sweeping across the ground and a small tumble weed rolling down the road. Her eyes flicked back to the sky as another bolt came down. It looked like a crack in the heavens showing, for a meer moment, the glory of the angels. Her soul burned just watching the amazing display of power crackling through the sky. Another bolt and the lake suddenly darkened as the city lights shut down, turning their world black. She just hopped off the fence and went inside, a smug smile on her face as she flicked on her lights.
Meeting You
Meeting you was like going to the pool with my clothes on,
Slipping in and drowning in your passion and love for a moment
Then, slowly, learning to swim,
To move with the water in unison and work hand in hand
Now, it’s like I’m heading to the shallow end,
Slowly, I will get my footing on the slippery ground
The water will fall from my face; my hands
And slowly I will step out
The water still soaked into my every pore
But I will walk away
It may take a while, but soon all the water will dry up
And all that will be left is the memory
Slipping in and drowning in your passion and love for a moment
Then, slowly, learning to swim,
To move with the water in unison and work hand in hand
Now, it’s like I’m heading to the shallow end,
Slowly, I will get my footing on the slippery ground
The water will fall from my face; my hands
And slowly I will step out
The water still soaked into my every pore
But I will walk away
It may take a while, but soon all the water will dry up
And all that will be left is the memory
The Great Lover
I have been so great a lover: all my life
These things I love:
Peanut butter, the nutty smell and creamy sticky taste,
Pickles, ever sour never willing to waste,
Cats and kittens, fur so soft, cuddling day in and day out,
Sleepy and playful, can’t go without;
Dogs and puppies, playful and loyal to the end;
Socks, warm upon my feet, sliding on the wooden floors around the bend;
Never ending smiles, bright upon faces, wrinkling the gleaming eyes
Revealing the heart inside that forever shies;
Musty books, lifting you to a new world, a place that someone else dreamed;
Smells of sawdust and car work, remembering the dad you always esteemed;
The soft love of hugs, from friends, family, and special ones;
Tree swings, in the fresh outside wind; skipping stones;
Water, cool on the hot skin, silky and soft, peaceful yet wild;
The unforgettable smell of a mother to her child.
These things I love:
Peanut butter, the nutty smell and creamy sticky taste,
Pickles, ever sour never willing to waste,
Cats and kittens, fur so soft, cuddling day in and day out,
Sleepy and playful, can’t go without;
Dogs and puppies, playful and loyal to the end;
Socks, warm upon my feet, sliding on the wooden floors around the bend;
Never ending smiles, bright upon faces, wrinkling the gleaming eyes
Revealing the heart inside that forever shies;
Musty books, lifting you to a new world, a place that someone else dreamed;
Smells of sawdust and car work, remembering the dad you always esteemed;
The soft love of hugs, from friends, family, and special ones;
Tree swings, in the fresh outside wind; skipping stones;
Water, cool on the hot skin, silky and soft, peaceful yet wild;
The unforgettable smell of a mother to her child.
Sharing is Caring
It was a simple dinner tonight, no time to prepare anything fancy or really tasty, but that was okay. We all enjoyed our small dinner of Taco Bell, sitting around the table together. We ate in silence for a while, each munching our own sort of Mexican food. I had my taco and burrito. I had just finished a packet of hot sauce, but I still had a few bites left of my taco. All I had to do was ask and my sister gave me a half full packet to finish my taco with. That was a bit too much though. I t was okay, I just used it on my burrito and it still tasted fine once the sauce was gone. But once I neared the end, it was getting ind of dry. I only had two or three bites left so I didn't want to open more hot sauce...There! Problem solved. My mom was lathering her nachos in some sauce, so I held my burrito out without a word and she graciously added some flavor to the last bits of my burrito. What caring and sharing my little family showed over a simple fast-food dinner. And with hot sauce to top it off.
Inspires Chaos
When I was little, I didn't know the contents of dog food. What kid did? So why was I so eager to go and eat it? I'd grab my dog's bowl and hide around the corner of the house and munch on his food, happy as can be, but listening for the condemning footsteps. I never got caught, I enjoyed my little treat alone, squatting on the cement. It was my little secret. But why dog food??
Engaged
The horses galloped down the cobblestone path towards the palace. It was all aglow like fire in the midnight sky, furiously reaching towards the stars and the moon. Tonight was the biggest night in all of Russia. The kind was throwing a ball and all people of importance were invited. The woman stepped out of her carriage, hair up done with diamonds and glittering strings. Her flowing dress, dark and passionate as her ruby red lips. A white glove offered her a hand, but she brushed it off, eyes focused on the entrance. waiting for no one, she glided up the steps and the doors were opened revealing a blast of music and laughter accompanied by the sweet scent of expensive foods and perfume. She stepped in and the doors shut behind her, she straightened her ring then inconspicuously glanced at her reflection in a passing vase. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the nervous expressions she had just seen. She headed into the ballroom and glanced around. The kind was just leading his youngest daughter onto the floor with a big grin on his face. Then, there was the prince; quietly standing next to the throne, arms folded, watching the twirling dresses and clapping hands. She watched him for a moment, then their eyes met. She quickly looked down, but glanced up as he made his way over to her.
"I thought maybe you'd forgotten." He smiled, holding his arm out to her.
"I could never."
"I thought maybe you'd forgotten." He smiled, holding his arm out to her.
"I could never."
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Some of Our Family Transactions my Sister has Missed Due to not Going to our Dad's for the Past Few Months
The death of our little turkey, Turkey Lurkey. Your little brother losing two teeth and growing in one. The birthday party of our second cousin, Sierra. Camping at Dos Picos park and bruising our butts on our bikes. Our Dad, Heather, and the three kids missing you to death. The sweetest age in the world is 15, or whatever you daughter is. The acquiring of our new cow, T-bone. The muddy paws of our puppies. The soft fur of our bunny. The many eggs of our seven chickens. Though you grow before me, Your still my baby girl. The crazy running of me during the summer. The awkward visits of us to the friends of our parents that we don't know. The lazy days we spent watching T.V. and movies in house. Cheap and easy lunch meals. Freezing and sandy trips to the beach with and without our cousins. Lake Havasu, with the hot sun, leeches, and amazing lightning storm. A daughter may outgrow you lap, but she will never outgrow your heart. The exciting clean up of the extra metal sheets and bars around the garage. The gross find of slugs. The many wounds of our little siblings. The crazy games, petty fights, and adorable hugs of everyone. The wonderful family and games on Christmas. The laughter and uncopiable smiles, faces, and times. Watching your daughter being collected by her date feels like handing over a million dollar Stradivarius to a gorilla. Little bonding moments. Cute saying from Steven, crazy things from Amanda. Watching Steven's baseball practice, where he stomped on ants. Helping clean out the old sea train, looking at old photos. Watching the things in the house slowly move, get destroyed, and disappear. The new sink faucet. A daughter is a treasure - and a cause of sleeplessness. The miraculous turn up of new clothing on my bed. Fuzzy sleeping in our room, and probably your blanket too, sorry. Cold, cold thanksgiving. Messy boys coming to visit. Dress ups and crazy trampoline games. The amazing deterioration of our scooters. It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't. The sad little goodbye's and 'I'm going to miss you's'. Lots of boring flights, and crazy HAZMAT guys. Tiny little experiences that you will never be able to make up.
Monday, March 5, 2012
We stared up at the plethera of colorful balloons, amazed as they glided over the rooftops and into the sky.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?"
I looked down to see an old man. He was sitting on a step outside a door looking up at the balloons just as we had been. He glanced at me and gave a quick smile, ruffling his pointy beard. "My son always dreamed of flying in one of those."
there was a moment of silence before someone in our group spoke up. "What happened to your son?"
He turned away from the balloons and looked at us with his old, blue eyes, "He didn't believe"
We all looked at each other, obvious curiosity in each of our faces. The man chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, and spoke, "It was twenty-five years ago, when my son was ten years old, that we first came to see the balloons take flight. His eyes lit up, much like all of your did just now, but that spark stayed there. Yes, it stayed and it grew. All he ever talked about was growing up to pilot one of those balloons." The man chuckled, "His determination was beautiful. He even went so far as to go to the library and look up some books! Oh, he studied hard till he knew what each and every trinket on that balloon was called and what every single one of them was supposed to do. Needless to say, we cam each year to see the balloons take off and his dream only grew bigger.
"It was that one day, ten years ago, that he stopped believing." He all of a sudden looked very old, his eyes were turned down to the ground. He took a crumpled paper out of his coat and held it out to us, "The fateful crash of Barry Wingham, his idolized pilot. It was like watching him be crushed right along with that balloon." His face fell and a sob escaped, his voice crackled as he spoke, "He stopped believing. He gave it all up; his dream. Now it will never come true." He looked up at us with tear-filled eyes, "don't give up. Keep believing in your dreams. Or you will forever regret it." He coughed a few times, wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then handed me the picture of the balloon crash.
"Always believe." He said, then he walked down the street and out of sight, leaving us all in wonder.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?"
I looked down to see an old man. He was sitting on a step outside a door looking up at the balloons just as we had been. He glanced at me and gave a quick smile, ruffling his pointy beard. "My son always dreamed of flying in one of those."
there was a moment of silence before someone in our group spoke up. "What happened to your son?"
He turned away from the balloons and looked at us with his old, blue eyes, "He didn't believe"
We all looked at each other, obvious curiosity in each of our faces. The man chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, and spoke, "It was twenty-five years ago, when my son was ten years old, that we first came to see the balloons take flight. His eyes lit up, much like all of your did just now, but that spark stayed there. Yes, it stayed and it grew. All he ever talked about was growing up to pilot one of those balloons." The man chuckled, "His determination was beautiful. He even went so far as to go to the library and look up some books! Oh, he studied hard till he knew what each and every trinket on that balloon was called and what every single one of them was supposed to do. Needless to say, we cam each year to see the balloons take off and his dream only grew bigger.
"It was that one day, ten years ago, that he stopped believing." He all of a sudden looked very old, his eyes were turned down to the ground. He took a crumpled paper out of his coat and held it out to us, "The fateful crash of Barry Wingham, his idolized pilot. It was like watching him be crushed right along with that balloon." His face fell and a sob escaped, his voice crackled as he spoke, "He stopped believing. He gave it all up; his dream. Now it will never come true." He looked up at us with tear-filled eyes, "don't give up. Keep believing in your dreams. Or you will forever regret it." He coughed a few times, wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then handed me the picture of the balloon crash.
"Always believe." He said, then he walked down the street and out of sight, leaving us all in wonder.
My Time
Just a quick stop at the store and she was driving home with a big smile on her face. The radio was blasting and she ignored the stares as she sang her lungs out while she zoomed down the street. Down the familiar road, past the old, rusted mailbox, and between the two little bushes. She flung her hair into a quick pony tail and rushed inside, carrying her small bag of goodies, then kicked her shoes off by the door. She set her bag down on the table and sorted through it, picking out the popcorn, the chocolates, and the can of Dr. Pepper. She ripped the popcorn out of its package then shuffled to the living room as it started to pop in the microwave. She popped her favorite movie into the DVD player then danced to each of the windows, shutting the blinds. By then, the popcorn was done, she dumped it inot a bowl, grabbed her other treats, and flicked off each light as she made her way to the couch. The movie was starting. She cuddled into her fuzzy green blanket, her popcorn balanced on her lap, and smiled as she finally clicked play.
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