Epigraph Story
Epigraph: a quotation
set at the beginning of a literary work or one of its divisions to suggest its
theme.
Many works of fiction contain an epigraph. Most authors decide on an epigraph after
their story has been fully realized. For
this next assignment, we are going to work in reverse.
Select one of the following epigraphs and write a short
story of 900 words or more to go along with it.
1.
“All you need is love.”
2.
“A man’s got to know his limitations.”
3.
“Life is what happens while you’re busy making
other plans.”
4.
“Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of
wolves.”
5.
“None are more hopelessly enslaved than those
who falsely believe they are free.”
6.
“Fear is your only God.”
7.
“Religion is the opiate of the masses.”
8.
A truth that’s told with bad intent beats all
the lies you can invent.”
This assignment is due next Tuesday. Lab students only have a 600 word minimum.
“Keep on dreaming, even if it breaks your heart”
ReplyDeleteI was alone for the better part of my years, my family barely ever even noticed my existence. I just wanted to be loved, was that too much to ask for? My mom wouldn’t even console me when I was hurt, I was left to the side. I would come in the house when I scraped my knee or accidently cut myself while playing. My mother wouldn’t tell me that it would all be better, or that she would make it better. Instead she would yell and curse at me and pour her whiskey on my cut then yell at me for having her waste good alcohol. All I wanted was for her to hug me and be kind, instead she would push me into the other room and yell at me to be quiet so she could hear the television, when I could hear it if I left the house.
If I didn’t get any attention from her I thought I could get some from my father. I would walk up to him while he was reading in the kitchen. He would give me what any child wanted, unconditional love. He was a kind man, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He was coming home one day from work and a man doing a drive by shooting, and my dad was hit in the crossfire. I was left with my mother only, she wouldn’t give me what I needed. Most of the time she wouldn’t even feed me, I was only eight, and I couldn’t fend for myself.
I was later transferred into a foster program for being neglected by my mother. I doubt that she even would have noticed that I was taken from her if it wasn’t for the police coming to the house and telling her that I would be taken. I should have been upset that I was being taken from the one who gave me life, but I was glad to leave that house. Maybe the foster home would be a great place; maybe I’ll get adopted by a loving family. I could only hope for the best but deep down I thought that nobody would want me, that I would stay in that home until I was an adult and not have anyone who loves me.
The foster home was a little bit better than my old house. The rooms were clean but the kids; they all seemed scared for some reason. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I would soon find out why they were terrified. The woman who ran the place was an evil creation. I was surprised that she was allowed to take care of children, she was worse than my mother in this category. She would from out of nowhere start screaming at the children and then if one of them would cry too much she would take out a belt and start hitting them on their back with it.
This was not a place that I liked. I preferred being neglected by my mother than whipped by this mad woman. My mother was a saint compared to this woman. I never gave up hope though, I was going to get out of this place and get to a great family who would love me.
There were a few times where adults would come into the home, and the woman who ran the house would tell us to be on our best behaviors or she would beat us senseless. I always hoped that I would be the one who would get out of this living nightmare, but those times it was not meant to be. They would pass right over me and pick one of the smaller kids. There was one man who did almost adopt me but something happened to him. I think he was arrested and charged with child molestation. I don’t know what that is but I assume that it is bad for him to go to prison for it.
I spent another two months in that place until the police came and shut it down; they said that nobody would hurt us like that ever again. All of us who were living in that home were relocated to a new foster home. Hopefully this one would be better than the last one.
DeleteThe new house seemed like a dump on the outside, but once we entered it, it was pretty good looking. It was nicely furnished and had a few kids sitting around a large T.V watching some mindless cartoon. The woman who ran the house came to welcome us into the home. She looked nice and was very kind to all of us. This house seemed like a home, and the children seemed to enjoy it as well.
This was a place I would want to be, but it’s not exactly what I wanted. I wanted a family to love and care for me. That may happen soon, I hoped. I would soon have my dream come true.
The next adoption day a family came. They were dressed nicely and were very friendly to each child they passed by, but they didn’t see any child they wanted to take home with them. Then they came to me, and then they started discussing in a whisper. I was getting my hopes up, maybe they would take me. They left later and my hopes left me. I was about to leave and sulk by myself, but then the owner of the house stopped me and said that they were going to adopt me, and they just needed the paperwork. My dream would finally come true. I was going to have a family to love.
This is very good. See if you can go back and place some commas in places where they belong.
Delete“A man’s got to know his limitations”
ReplyDeleteI hid in my room. My door was locked and my book shelf was shoved up against it. I sat on my floor with my back up against my bed looking out of the window facing away from my door. Tears streamed down my face as the sobs got heavier and heavier. My body ached and my head was pounding. I sat there, trying to calm myself down. Blood trickled down cheek from a cut I had above my eye. The bruises on my arms throbbed. I closed my eyes and put my head down, hoping that the images would disappear, but nothing worked. The images flashed in my mind like a horrible dream in the middle of the night.
I lifted my head back up and looked out of the window. My eye caught a bright star right in the middle of the night sky. I adjusted myself so I was kneeling with my hands together on the windowsill. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Lord, I’m in trouble. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I’m so lost. I’m scared to be in this house. Please, give me the strength to change my life. Amen.” I said in the silence of my room. I got up and began to look around for a tissue or napkin to wipe the blood off of my face. After I was all cleaned up I laid down on my bed and gazed out of the window. All I could think about was one thing, when was this all going to get better. My eyes got this heavy feeling and I began to doze off into a deep sleep.
BANG! BAMG! BANG! My eyes shot open and my heart began to race as my dad started banging on my door. “Lauren, you better be up and getting dressed!” He screamed through the door.
Delete“Ye- yeah s-sir, I’m up and getting dressed.” I said stuttering over my words. I quickly threw my clothes on and ran to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and I saw something that brought me to tears. I was looking in the mirror, but I was not the girl looking back at me. The girl in the mirror had a gash above her right eye, she had bruises up and down her arms and legs, and her left eye was black and blue and swollen. Tears filled my eyes and my throat got a choked up feeling in it. I took out my tooth brush, tooth paste, and hair brush and finished getting ready for school. When I was finally done brushing my hair I ran back to my room to grab my backpack and jacket. I approached my stairs leading downstairs and I got quiet. When I was sure he was not around I ran to the door and screamed back, “Bye Dad!” and quickly slammed the door shut behind me.
Delete“Lauren. Lauren, wake up!” I opened my eyes and looked around in confusion. Mr. Barnes looked at me with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked me. I looked down at my desk unsure of what excuse I should use this time.
“Yeah, I- I’m fine Mr. Barnes. Thanks for asking.” I stammered over my words.
“Don’t lie to me, alright. I know when something is wrong with you, I’ve taught you since you were a freshman.” I still did not want to look up so I kept my eyes locked on a mark on my desk. “You have new bruises on your face and arms every other week. You have new cuts on your body every day. What’s going on at home Lauren?” My eyes began to fill up with tears. I started thinking about the prayer I said last night and how maybe, just maybe Mr. Barnes was the answer. I looked up and looked at his compassion filled eyes and I could not control myself. I started crying uncontrollably and he put his hand on my back to let me know that I could trust him.
“Mr. Barnes, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I’m terrified to go home. I barricade myself in my room until I know he’s asleep or passed out drunk.” The tears began to fall harder and harder. “I need help Mr. Barnes. I’m scared.” He reached down and held me in his arms. Sitting there in his arms I began to think about my mother. She died six months ago and ever since then my father has started drinking and becoming violent. I missed her so much, I missed the hugs she use to give me just as Mr. Barnes was.
“We’ll figure this out, okay? I won’t let you be hurt anymore. He needs to learn his limitations and he needs help. Don’t worry about it. Sit here and wait a minute, I’m going to make a phone call. Don’t move.” He said as he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket. I wiped the tears off of my stained cheeks and watched as Mr. Barnes began talking on the phone. I was not paying much attention to what he was saying because I was too deep into my own thoughts. He really was the answer. He was some sort of angel that was going to help me. I was not sure how all of that seemed to work, but I was sure that my dad was going to get the help he needed and was not going to hurt me anymore.
This is so well-written. I wish you would always put this amount of effort into your work.
Delete“Nothing made me the way I am. Nothing but me.”
ReplyDelete-Amy Reed, Clean
Lexa-
I can sit here and imagine a life where things went right. Sometimes I wish life could have been set out for me like a list of instructions. Does this then do that. I could have been a good girl if once in a while I did what I was supposed to do maybe. My mom always told me that I was going to grow up to be a pretty girl and look where I am now I’m locked up in this place because I took one to many pills and had a little bit too much fun.
Dustin-
I came here to find serenity. I thought I was going to get some quite time to myself and really figure out why I’m so unhappy. I truly cannot remember the last time I was honestly happy. I always was just the kid everyone came to for advice on how to brighten up their day or help them through a rough patch, but who was ever there for me? I just want to be happy again like when I was a little boy. I want joy back in my life.
Eva-The fact that I have been brought here to “find myself” is complete bull. There is nothing wrong with me and I don’t even understand what my foster mom was thinking. So I like to party and go out with my friends there is nothing wrong with that. I have had this feeling of love over me and I think that’s what pushed me over the edge. All teenage girls go through this tough time of trying to form their own path. I know I got lost along the way and feel into a bad crowd but seriously?
………………………………………………………………
Lexa
“She was such a beautiful girl when she was younger and was so good at everything. Not many people understand how she got this bad, and how it happened so quickly. The summer going into Lexa’s junior year something in her changed, her soul just turned sour one day,” that’ s what my mom straight to the doctor my the day she brought me here I couldn’t believe it. I was sitting right there but yet I was unseen. I know I have made some mistakes but that’s what happens I’m a kid, we make mistakes. It all started out back in high school about sophomore year; back when no one knew then what I was even getting into yet. School just was so boring I needed something to bring back excitement into my life. That’s when I first started messing around with cough medicine.
I thought I was ok I could get couch medicine anywhere what harm could it do to me. I see my problem now. Something as simple as cough medicine started my downward spiral, who would have thought. I loved going on robotrips then it got boring to I moved onto little blues and then it just kept on going until one day I started doing oxy. Who would have known that this could happen to me I had so much going for me. I was so pretty now im just gross and always somewhere else I wasn’t myself. I become so out of control now that I think of it I was going to random people’s house and stealing things to pawn them in for more drug money. I could have gone to jail and had a record. I’m just a 16 year old girl who has lost control of her own world.
What have I done to myself?
…………………
This is a uniquew take on the assignment. I think this would be a good selection for a post on the spectrum site
DeleteNone are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.
ReplyDeleteAs the quiet wind blows down my suburban street, it feels good blowing on my face. I just like to sit in my chair out on the porch on a quiet summer day. Every once in a while I get a very disturbing flashback. I’m sitting in the desert with my friend Rick, were watching a caravan of terrorists nearby. We have our snipers ready to take them out when suddenly a helicopter comes out of nowhere, they found us. It is commandeered by some of the terrorists and they start shooting at us, I tell Rick to get down behind our sand pit, but he is determined to shoot out the pilot and take down the helicopter. The helicopter fires its first shots and hits Rick directly in the leg. I can’t see anything because all of the dust is blowing all over the place. As the helicopter passes over us, I can finally see Rick laying there lifeless, the helicopter shot him in the chest three times plus the leg wound. I tried to help him, but there were no signs of life. As the helicopter reappeared, an army trucks arrived just in time. I ran down the hill as fast as I could and hopped into the truck and we drive away as the helicopter gave up and headed back to where the terrorists were. Every once in a while I get that flashback and I can’t stop thinking that I should have tried to save Rick, I should have pulled him behind the sand pit. But I cannot bring him back to life now, it is too late.
Last night I was sitting in bed about to fall asleep when I heard a knocking at the door. I got out of bed dizzily and staggered to the door. There were two people in black suits standing there, they were from the FBI. I had no idea what was going on. I invited them into the kitchen and asked them what this was all about. They said that there is a very important mission that has to be fulfilled. I told them I retired from my military career and didn’t want to go on any missions that involved guns and killing people. I had a few guns in my house that is used for rifle training just to make some time go by. Every once in a while I would practice with them out at a shooting range. Back to the story, they insisted that this mission was very important and that American hostages could be at risk. The mission was that I have to rescue American hostages in Afghanistan. I understand how important this mission is. They let me know that I am expendable, just like all of my other missions in the army.
“Why did you guys choose me, my military career is over, I’m just trying to live a normal life.”
“You’re the best man for the job.”
I reluctantly agreed to the task and asked when I will go, they said right now. They forced me to get ready in 20 minutes, and then gave me the supplies that I would need two pistols, a knife, armor, and an M4. We flew to Japan, went to a military base there, then they would take me on a plane and fly me over North Korea into the wilderness where the hostages were being held. My parachute was ready and I was waiting to jump off the plane, when I thought to myself why the hell I am doing this. I mean, my life is going good and I shouldn’t be doing these things anymore. Then some guy pushed me off and my last chance to back out of the mission was gone. I fell pretty far, then deployed my parachute and landed softly right in the center of the landing spot. I got my bearings, looked around, and started on my mission. The forest was thick and there were prickly vines everywhere. Thank god I had my knife with me which made it much easier to cut through the brush. After about a mile and a half I arrived at what looked like a hutted village. There was no one around. I looked around the area where there were about seven or eight huts. In one of the huts there three American hostages held up. I thought to myself why the hell did I come out here to risk my life for just three people. I was expecting 50 to 100. Well I untied them and we walked out of that little hut village without any harm. The extraction point was not that far away.
We arrived at the extraction point where the helicopter was supposed to be waiting for us. But there was no sign of a helicopter. I waited for it for about five minutes along with the three hostages. We were all getting antsy, and I was getting pissed. Then all of the sudden I heard a buzzing on my radio. I picked it up; it was a general in the army. He said that the helicopter that was supposed to be coming. I shouted very loudly why?
ReplyDelete“You are in no use to us anymore, goodbye”
Then, from all over the sides of the field, Korean soldiers came up slowly with guns pointing at me. There was nothing I could do, I dropped my weapon and put my hands up. The three hostages gave up as well. They tied my hands up, punched me a few times in the stomach, and then marched me off into the woods with the rest of the hostages. The mission was over.
This is a great take on the quote. I like the style of the narrative as well. It really fits the subject matter.
Delete“After all, tomorrow is another day.”
ReplyDeleteSince life has its ups and downs, there is no way to stop it. Things can either o good or bad, and it can ruin, or enhance your day. And nobody knows what’s going to happen tomorrow. And if it’s something bad, one tries not to show how frightened they are. When you live the life of Jenny Splint, you would want tomorrow to come.
It all started out like a regular average day. Jenny woke up from a deep sleep; the night before she took sleeping pills to get a good night sleep. Her alarm was set for 6:30 every morning, so she could get up, and do her hair; the basic every school morning routine.
It’s Monday morning in October and the weather is perfect. The sun was shining; the leaves were beginning to darken, and above all, its sweatshirt weather. Jenny left her house early enough to go to Quick Check for a sandwich for lunch, and a burrito for breakfast; breakfast burrito of course. Jenny took her time walking to school. She was absorbing the crisp outside air when out of nowhere a mysterious white van pulled up next to her.
Munching on her burrito, Jenny didn’t realize there was a van following her. Looking down while she was walking, Jenny realized her sneaker was untied. She walked to the side of the sidewalk and bend down to tie her shoe. Two of the four men jumped out of the van and ambushed Jenny. One of them put a bag over her head and the other grabbed her body to restrain from squirming. Coincidently nobody saw the scene, and Jenny was kidnapped right in her home town.
The men drove away from the scene quicker than a bat out of hell. Jenny was held down by two of the men. One of them ripped off the bag and started talking in a deep manly voice.
“Well well, it seems as though we have a winner. We finally have a wonderful test subject.”
ReplyDelete“Test subject for what? What is this all about?” snickered Jenny. The men didn’t say a word, just sat in the van and grabbed a needle from the glove compartment. Jenny squirmed and flinched all she could, and there was no luck. The one man took the needle and stuck a mixture of suntan lotion, cocaine, and LSD. It was injected right into her arm, the mother lode of perfect veins. The concoction slithered its way through the veins of Jenny, and things took a turn for the worst.
Right after the needle was injected, Jenny was different. She no longer squirmed or freaked out. Instead, she was relaxed, and wanted more. The guy with the needle looked surprised, and gave her more. After Jenny seemed addicted, the driver pulled up to the side of the road and threw Jenny out of the van and drove away, leaving her with a handful of needles. Things could only get worse…
Jenny felt great, and continued on her way to school. When she arrived, she didn’t tell anyone about her journey with the madmen. She went to the bathroom and grabbed one of her needles. She stabbed herself in the arm and let the magic happen. Soon after her enjoyment, the bell rang, and Jenny was now late to trigonometry. When she walked in, Jenny fell to the floor. The teacher thought she was messing around, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The teacher sent her to the office for disrupting class, and coming in late. The office called her mom, and they went home.
Jenny was grounded for her misbehavior. Surprisingly enough her mom didn’t find the needles hidden inside Jenny’s backpack. Later that night Jenny decided to take it up a notch and try all the remaining needles at one time. She took the remaining eight needles and shoved each and every one of them into her arm. Jenny felt the amazing adrenaline rush, feeling wonderful, like floating on a cloud and having a butler serve you ice cream on a nice summer night. Then all of a sudden, the cloud disappeared and Jenny fell off, and onto the floor of her bedroom. Her mom heard the commotion, and ran upstairs and bolted into her daughter’s room, spotting the eight needles in her child’s arm. Without thinking, the mother instantaneously dialed 911 and an ambulance came in record time.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteJenny was taken to the hospital where she was hooked up to machine after machine. She got an IV in her veins, and the doctors tried to keep her alive
DeleteJenny awoke from her slumber in a daze. She opened one eye, and looked around. “Where’s my cloud?!” Jenny shouted. A doctor came in and checked her out.
“It seems as though you overdosed on those needles. If your mom didn’t have that quick instinct, you would have been dead.” Said the doctor in a calm voice. “What made you want to try a concoction like that? You could have killed yourself. The test results show that you overdosed on that drug-like substance.” Jenny just dropped her head and started crying. She didn’t mean to do any of that drug substance. She was whipped on drugs and couldn’t stop herself.
Jenny stayed in the hospital for a couple of days, to let the doctors monitor her behavior without the drugs in her system. Jenny felt and acted a lot better after the hospital. The doctors took good care of Jenny in her serious condition. Even though she was hooked up on the drugs, Jenny still had to go to rehab to permanently rid her body and mind of any type of drug.
“Hi I’m Jenny and I was addicted to drugs.” Jenny said at the first day of rehab. “I was drugged when I was kidnapped one day walking to school. I was injected in the arm with a needle that was made up of a whole bunch of drugs. After I was let go from the kidnappers, they gave me more needles which I soon overdosed on. I tried all eight of them at once, and my heart stopped. The doctors were brilliant and just amazing to jumpstart my heart and let me live again. I am forever grateful for them letting me live. I also want to thank God for the opportunity for letting me see another day on Earth. I now know that I was dumb and it was an idiotic thing to do.”
Jenny sat down in her chair and sat upright with her shoulders cocked, and smiled. Jenny felt great knowing that she could live, and die another day.
“Thank you Jenny for that touching story. I’m happy that you chose to come here and clean yourself up. There’s no need for drugs, you can live life without getting high.” The counselor said. “I mean, after all, tomorrow is another day.”
This story starts off in a horrifying way, but the end provides a lot of hope. It is a very good story.
DeleteAugust 15, 1960
ReplyDeleteSouth Carolina
Jenny
I sat in the rocking chair on my porch sipping lemonade. I stared off at South Carolina’s setting sun. The screen door slammed behind me as Jack’s hand touched mine. I looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back and looked at the sunset. I suddenly became mesmerized by his face. The creases that sank deeply into his face hadn’t been there when we’d first met, and his deep blue eyes had faded to a light grey. But as worn out as his body seemed, his spirit was happy. He rubbed my hand gently.
We never expected to make it this far. This life was a fantasy we never thought we’d get to have. But here we are, in a nice big house in South Carolina, drinking lemonade, still deeply in love and even if we died at this very moment, we’d die happy.
June 3, 1932
Chicago
Jenny
“Get outta here Jenny!” My mother shouted at me as I stood in the doorway completely stunned. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen my father beat my mother, but every time it happened, I couldn’t help but freeze. “Go!” There was so much strain in her voice as she screamed. It was always hard to tell if she wanted me to leave because she didn’t want me to see, or if it was because she was afraid if I didn’t he’d beat me too.
“Get outta here,” my father said, his voice rougher than usual. “You heard your mother didn’t ya?”
I just stared at my mother with wide eyes. Tears stained her face so noticeably it was like wine on a white sheet. She looked like a ghost. She was so frightened that her face had lost all color except for her eyes which were still black from the last time my father had come home drunk less than a week ago.
“Are you deaf or somethin’?” my father asked, taking a step towards me.
As soon as he moved I snapped out of my trance and ran. Very rarely had my father ever beaten me, but I knew if he got his hands on me it was sure to happen.
I realized when I got to my room that I was completely drenched in sweat. It was a hot day, but I knew the sweating wasn’t from the heat. My heart was beating so fast I was afraid it might explode. Thoughts were whirling so fast through I couldn’t even process them.
I walked into my parents’ room and before I even knew what I was doing I was holding my father’s fully loaded pistol and heading for the kitchen.
The only things I remember are in flashes after that.
I remember my father coming at me when he saw me.
I remember the sound of the gun being louder than anything I’d ever heard before.
I remember red everywhere.
I remember being in the middle of town and the click of the gun as I emptied it.
But more than anything, I just remember my mother’s screams echoing in my ears.
Jack
ReplyDeleteI checked the clock in the pocket of my vest. We were right on time. From the passenger seat of the car I nodded to Jimmy and John who were standing on the steps of the bank across the street and they nodded back in understanding.
I watched them as they walked through the banks tall white doors.
Three minutes. Three minutes and as long as everything went according to plan we’d make it out of here with more money than I ever imagined I could have.
I smiled and nodded to Roy who was sitting next to me in the driver’s seat. Just as he smiled back I heard a gunshot and a scream. My head whipped around. At first I thought it was coming from inside the bank, but after another shot was fired I realized it was much closer than that.
I looked out the window and saw a girl walking in the middle of the street holding a gun out in front of her, ready to shoot. She was whipping it around, pointing it at anyone or anything that made a move. She was sobbing loudly.
A man came out in front of the car and ran towards her but she quickly turned and shot him right in the chest. She screamed loudly as his body fell to the ground. Even from the car I could see the tears streaming uncontrollably from her face.
“What the hell is she doin’?” Roy asked, leaning over in his seat to get a better look at her.
I didn’t answer I just watched her as she took a deep, jagged breath and ran up the stairs and into the bank. I looked around. There was a crowd forming around the bank. She was about to ruin everything.
This is really cinematic. I want to see more.
Delete“None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.”
ReplyDeleteThey call it the Tower of Hell. A massive, soaring, black menace with red accents and a pointed crown. It’s always dark around the island where the beast lives. Only the lightning that comes from the continuous thunderstorm above illuminates the ghastly, petrifying, monstrous horror that I call home. It is said even the Devil cowers upon looking at the tower. But of course, he is who the stronghold was made for…or rather who it is still being built for.
I was taken from my home when I was three; pried from my mother’s arms as my father protested. But there was nothing they could do. They knew any child born on Sheba Island would be taken to Shimmra Island upon reaching the proper age. Three is just when children learn to walk and talk. It is the perfect age to get them ready for work. So they know nothing else but work and the Tower of Hell. It is also the perfect age because they don’t remember their parents, so they can’t miss or cry for them. They never see their parents again, though they are only a few miles away from Sheba Island where they were born. Only until they reach the age of 40 do they return to Sheba Island. They lived on Shimmra, working their whole lives on the tower. At 40, they are deemed unworthy to work anymore and return to their homeland. There they become parents themselves, bearing children only to be taken in three years to work on the tower.
But when they returned, their parents were long gone. When adults reached the age when they could no longer produce children, the authorities saw no more purpose for them. They couldn’t work and they couldn’t make workers. So they were brutally murdered, their bodies thrown in the salty ocean surrounding the tiny island.
This had been happening for generations now. The tower was supposed to be completed in 10 years after its plans were drafted. But it had been hundreds of years now and the tower was not even close to completion. I was part of the last generation.
Ordealism. That’s the religion that ran the whole operation. I am not an Ordealist. The people of Sheba were loyal to God and his wonderful works. We prayed and hope for our freedom every day. The Ordealists controlled Shimmra and forced us Christians to do their dirty work by building a tower to their lord, Satan. Of course we had tried to rebel in the past. But we were outnumbered and weak from the limited mush they provided for us as food. There had been suicides but the Ordealists didn’t care. The adults back on Sheba were forced to produce more of us, so there was always a surplus of workers. And if we refused to give them our labor, they beat a handful of us with electrified whips and spiked clubs. But they never killed the rebels. They were always kept barely alive so that the others were scared into cooperating.
After a mass beating, thoughts of rebelling or suicide ceased…for the most part. There were always a few teenagers, like me, talking of escape at our 10 minute lunch or dinner breaks
on the beach of the island. I would always listen in silence as I spooned my daily mush pile into my dried and cracked mouth. But one day, there was a boy of about 20 years talking of suicide.
ReplyDelete“Don’t do it,” I whispered, meaning for the plea to remain in my thoughts. But he heard it and turned to me.
“Why not? Don’t you wanna get away too?” he coldly asked. His depressed but fierce eye looked intently into my scratched and dirty face.
“Of course,” I replied, turning my neck so that I saw nothing but blue water. “But they wouldn’t care if you died. If I was going to escape, I would make my absence mean something. Suicide is not going to set you free. It will just show them you were never strong and that you gave up.”
“But suicide does let you escape,” a young blonde girl contradicted, joining the conversation.
“Yes. It does let you escape. But it doesn’t set you free. None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free,” I silently returned with a slight smile, still looking out upon the ocean. I thought how free it was. How it could never be ruled. But then I thought of all the bodies it was filled with.
“Where’d ya get that from?” the boy asked.
“From one of the older guys. He was taken back to Sheba a few days ago.”
“So how do you think we should escape?” the girl inquired.
I shrugged, unsure of what actions I should have taken. A few years later, I got enough rebels together, stole the Ordealists weapons, murdered an uncountable number of them, destroyed the tower, and sailed toward a new life on the slave ship that brought me from Sheba that day 15 years ago. I never again saw the boy with the depressed eyes or the girl with the blonde hair. Before I left on the ship, I stopped at Sheba Island to collect the parents and infants still dwelling there. But when the slaves from Shimmra arrived, there were no inhabitants on the island. So I never saw my parents again either.
WOW! This is an incredible story. I love your tone. Very clever story.
Delete“A truth that’s told with bad intent beats all the lies you can invent. “
ReplyDeleteI knew that I had done something terrible when I saw the look on my fellow student’s face. Her entire form was tense and overwrought with embarrassment. The previous satisfaction of my completed revenge withered away and was replaced with a sense of total disgust with myself. I always considered myself to be a genuinely decent person. I prided myself in the fact that I was usually generous and kind to others; however, over the past few days, I had acted entirely out of character. I transformed into a malicious and spiteful person. As I looked at the girl’s face, I realized I was the cause for her pain and I was filled with regret.
It all started when the new girl, Kelly, came to my school. I was so used to being the center of attention. I was not necessarily similar to the stereotypical popular mean girl that is present in countless movies and books. I was popular because I was nice to others and had a good sense of social etiquette. I could make friends easily and was comfortable in the social interactions that I made with others; however, this all changed when Kelly arrived. Suddenly, the attention of the school was no longer solely focused on me. As it turns out, Kelly was equally adept at maneuvering her way to popularity and her attendance at the school threatened the social hierarchy that I had spent such a meticulous time building. It was reaching the point in which people would prefer to say hello to her in the halls every time they saw her besides me. I was so used to having a secure amount of loyal followers that watched my every move but with Kelly’s arrival, I was no longer the object of everyone’s curiosity.
I then realized that I must take action to restore my former popularity. I began digging around for information about Kelly on the internet that I might use against her. I searched and searched, trying to locate any information that I could utilize to restore my status in school. I had great difficulty in finding anything detrimental about Kelly. She seemed to have a pristine record, with no significant faults or missteps in her life. I eventually came to the realization that I would probably not be able to find anything that I could use to my advantage.
One Tuesday night, I was just about to terminate my searching when her name appeared in a link at the bottom of my screen. I quickly navigated my way to the site in which her name appeared. I was brought to a website for a clinic for people suffering from eating disorders. Her name was under a list of patients there that had accomplished a successful outcome after completing their time spent in the treatment center. At first, I was shocked at what I was reading. Kelly seemed anything but unhealthy. She appeared to be vigorous and full of life. Little did everyone know that she had previously been diagnosed with a serious eating disorder that had caused her to be sent to a facility. Before I made any rash decisions, I verified my findings with more research. Once I knew that what I was reading was true, I began to briskly forward a text message to all of the contacts in my phone. In the message, I informed everyone of Kelly’s time in the center. I was careful to anonymously send the message. This would protect my identity and prevent me from having to endure consequences for my actions.
ReplyDeleteWhen I arrived at school the next day, the halls were buzzing with energy. As I passed through the halls, I heard clicks of students conversing about Kelly and what they had learned. A smug smile crossed my face as I approached my locker. As I gathered my books for first period, the hallways became hushed as everyone lowered their voices to whispers. I turned around and saw Kelly walking down the middle of the hallway with a confused look upon her face. Every single person in the hallway focused their harsh gazes on her and she balked at their judgmental looks. When she advanced towards her locker, she stopped suddenly. Her locker was decorated with a collage of colorful sticky notes. As I walked closer to see what they said, I paled. Horrible remarks and snide comments about her eating disorder covered the locker.
Kelly stood there for a few moments and let her backpack slide to the floor. The sound was unusually loud in the silent hallway. Without a word, she ran to the nearest bathroom and slammed the door. After witnessing the act, students began to restore their incessant chatter with the topic of their conversations directed at what had just happened.
I was completely disgusted with myself. What I had done was malicious and cruel and selfish. I was appalled that it had taken me this long to realize it. I had turned myself into an exact replica of the mean girls on television. I was a pathetic person that had to cause pain in others to make me feel secure about myself. What I had told the world was undoubtedly true, but sometimes a truth that is told for the wrong reasons is worse than the lies a person can tell for the right reasons.
I gathered the courage required to walk towards the still swinging door of the bathroom. Without another glance, I slowly pushed my way inside and prepared myself to repair the damage that I had caused.
There is a nice sense of morality to the story. I love the descriptive aspect of this piece. It makes the story come to life.
DeleteA woman being a bodyguard was never easy. A girl’s strength was weaker than guys, and was even physically smaller. It was an unfair treatment. My parents tried to talk me out of my unrealistic dream, but I never let go. I was into martial arts since I was little, influenced by my grandpa, who used to be in the navy. He showed me a lot of hand-to-hand combat and I was fascinated by it. During my senior year in high school, my grandpa told me that one of his old friends ran the ISA Academy from when he was still serving, saying that it was the best bodyguard school out there, providing the best close-protection courses and fire-arm knowledge and training. I applied, and got in; of course, my gramps helped me, pulling a little trigger behind me.
ReplyDeleteAfter high school, I entered the ISA Academy, and took almost all of the lessons available, packing my schedule full and tight. I graduated top of that class, and I entered the Washington Protection Agency, mostly providing bodyguards for congressmen and their family when requested, but in general, the agency also take request from rich people. It was a personal owned agency; money was necessary. As a newbie, I basically sat there and did office work for the other bodyguards. It couldn’t be helped, since they’ve never seen me in action before. It might have graduated top of my class, but training with coaches was different than actual guarding work.
After my first month at the agency, I got appointed to protect a Senator Wothen’s wife and daughter because many kidnapping threats had been made directing to the Senator’s wife and daughter. Mr. Wothen was a very empathetic woman in her late forties, and her daughter, Luisa Wothen, was still in college. If Luisa was to go to her room, I would be following her into her room and anywhere else, since my partner was a guy. Every day, I had to follow her to school and back. While she was taking classes, I patrolled the hallway near the classroom, making sure that everything was okay. We became friends after meeting for the first time.
I was working with another bodyguard, who was skilled and experienced. Working with a person liked that mean that I was basically an errand girl. The Senator’s wife and daughter was to be kept in their mansion most of the times. If they wanted or needed something, they asked me to get them, since weirdly enough, they did not have any maid or butcher in the house.
ReplyDeleteOne day, while we were coming back from Luisa’s college, the car came to an abrupt stop when the driver was shot in the head. I made Luisa stay in the car and call my partner, while I went out and asses the surrounding. Though, after I walked out from the car, I was welcomed by five guys, with guns in their hand. Bodyguards were not assigned guns because we were not allowed to. I stayed close to the car and held up my hands in submission. When a guy came close to me to check for any weapon on my body, I used my speed to steal his gun and held him hostage. It was too fast for anyone to react. I took a few shots and successfully took down three men. They also took their shot, but too bad none of them hit me. There was one more guy left, but my bullet ran out. Luckily, my partner arrived at the scene with police cars following behind them. Knowing that he had nowhere to go, the last hit man surrendered.
The police cuffed him and my hostage and took them away. My partner told a job well done. Then I escorted Luisa to the hospital to make sure that nothing was wrong with her. After that incident, the police traced the hit man/ kidnappers to an underground organization, which was the kidnappers’ base. They had committed similar crimes before, targeting wealthy, famous young woman, but there was no evident that traced back to the organization. This time though, the police brought the whole organization down. I went back to the agency, since I was no longer needed at the Senator’s house, but Luisa and I still remained in contact. At the agency, my fame has gone up. Seemed like my partner told everyone about me; how I took down three men with my gun skills. I was just glad everything went well. All well ends well too.
Your main character is a tough cookie. Nice job.
DeleteJessica heard voices in her head but of course none of those voices ever helped her. They each pulled her in every direction. She never liked to think that she would be put in this situation. All she wanted to be happy and she thought it was never too much to ask for. In her mind she thought it was a simple desire. For the world it looks like it wasn’t going to be so simple giving her that treat. She grew up with her parents separated. She could remember clearly her childhood. It wasn’t the best for she grew up hating very guy.
ReplyDeleteThe little Jessica loved to go into her living room and turn on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and dance along with all of her “friends.” One day when she went to her living room she overheard her parents arguing. She stood there cold. Not a single muscle moved. She was ice cold. All of a sudden she heard a scream. She turned around and looked at the stairway. It stared at her and the thought of something bad was happening to her parents crept into her mind. She walked over and stood in the hallway which was between going to the kitchen or going upstairs. She heard another scream she finally could notice where this scream was coming from. The scream was coming from the kitchen. She tip-toed over to the kitchen, when she got to the kitchen she saw her mother on the ground and her father standing up over her. He had a belt in his hand. Her mother’s lip was bleeding. This explained why her mother was always hurting. The mother and daughter looked eye to eye and a tear ran down the mothers face.
“You want to cry? Okay, then I’ll show you the real reason to cry!” He screamed.
Jessica turned her face and head the slap. She looked back at her mother and she laid there on the ground silent. Jessica couldn’t stand to see her mother’s pain anymore. She ran up and held onto her father’s leg. He looked down at the mother and tried to pick her up. The mother crawled back and went to the corner. Jessica bit her father’s leg. He screamed. Jessica ran over to her mother and cried with her.
“Sweetie…your mother….. an I… well we were just having some fun.” He whispered.
“You hurting my mom is not having fun. I HATE YOU DAD! I HATE YOU!” She screamed.
Jessica’s father went to jail for years and she never knew anything about him. She grew up saying that her father had died in a fire accident. She hit high school and even though many years had passed she was still hurting on the inside. While on the other hand, her mother was perfectly fine she acted as if nothing has happened to her. She was happy and wasn’t bothered to be alone.
One day after Jessica came home from school she needed to talk to her mother. She felt so uncomfortable that she was a senior in high school and she still had hatred for her father. Thirteen years had passed and she still couldn’t find a way to forgive him. She didn’t know how weak she could be. It was thirteen years of her lying to everyone that her father died. It was thirteen years of her hating on every single guy. It was thirteen years of her not believing the saying “All you need is love.” She thought if that was true then why would her father do that to her mother. She thought that for thirteen years of her life. Her father would always tell her how much she loved her mother. He told her that everything he achieved in life was the help of his wife. That day when Jessica’s mother came home from school she dragged her over to the couch and made her sit down.
“Mom, I know you hate when I bring up the subject but how did you get over the fact that my father hit you when I was young?” She questioned.
“All you need is love. It’s simply that.” She said with a tear running down her face.
Jessica got up and paced back and forth. She ran her fingers through her hair and couldn’t find words to explain to her mom how that wasn’t going to help. She looked at her mom and went down on her knees. She grabbed her mom’s hand and held onto them. She looked at her mother’s face. She still had a mark on her face when her husband tried to cut her. She looked into her mother’s eyes and couldn’t think of a reason why she would say that to her.
Delete“Listen sweetie, I know right now you don’t understand what I’m talking about. A few years down the road you will find yourself a strong young man who will love you for you and nobody else. I had your love. When you were young you had nightmares. I help you out with each of those nightmares. You came to my bed and would hold me tight. You loved me more than ever. Before you found out about your father he was your life. Then I turned into your everything. I had all of your love and you had all of mine. Then I had a man enter my life. I know I haven’t told you anything but I didn’t want to get you sad. It’s been thirteen years since you found out so let’s move on and forget about what your father did, please.” Jessica’s mother pleaded.
Jessica looked at her mother with confusion. Jessica couldn’t believe that her mom had found someone else. She was happy for her mother to find a new love but she was also angered at the fact that how could her mother find love and not her. She needed someone who she could cry to and not like a friend because they never help her out. She let one guy into her life and he was there with her for everything. She cried to her ex-boyfriend he was there for her and hugged her. Then the sad thing was when she began to think not every guy was like her father. Then she found out that he had to move all the way across the states and he didn’t want to know anything about her. She didn’t know what she did for him to treat him that way. Time passed and her mother introduced her to her boyfriend. Her mother’s boyfriend had a son who was in college. Jessica and Ron despised each other they didn’t like that their parents were dating each other. When Jessica graduated Ron held up a sign saying “HOPE YOU FAIL IN LIFE!”
Jessica was entering college and Ron was warming up to her. They were slowly getting along with each other than their parents got in a fight and broke up with each other. Even though their parents still weren’t together she noticed that the love that Jessica’s ex-boyfriend had for her helped her get through what she needed to get through. Her and Ron still talked and were getting closer. One day Jessica was going to go on a date because of the love of her mother and her old boyfriend she knew that love can really help her. Even though she still didn’t feel one hundred percent better she knew that the love of those people she had what she needed to have. Those two people turned not only into the best parents she could ever ask for but they turned into her best friends. She knew that she could trust them with anything. Well on that date she thought she found love. She thought that this guy Chris would help her though all her troubles. Chris invited her to go out to dinner one day and she agreed. It was on their two month anniversary. It was their final year in college. They were both studying to be nurses. Ron graduated college and the first person that he thought of inviting was Jessica. He didn’t care if anybody else came to his graduation as along as she came he was going to be happy. Jessica was the first person to arrive and wait. She was also the first person sitting up front. When he got up he didn’t look for his father, he didn’t look for his mother, he didn’t look for his own family, or his own girlfriend. The person he looked for was Jessica.
Jessica on that date put on a shirt filly dress. Jessica loved dressing up. When she had the chance she would dress up. That day she sparkled from everybody else in the restaurant. She walked in with pride glowing from every side of her body. You could notice her from miles away. She was like a star walking around on Earth. That night Chris was sitting at the table elegant but again looked nervous. Jessica walked over and kissed him on the check and sat down. Chris grabbed onto her hands. He was sweaty. Jessica pulled away her hand and wiped them on a napkin. She looked back to Chris to see that he was kneeling on the floor looking up at her. Jessica covered her mouth.
Delete“Will you marry me Jessica?” He asked.
Jessica looked at him and couldn’t speak. For the most unusual reason Ron was the person she could see instead of Chris. When Chris came back to being her image tears filled in her eyes. She looked up and saw that the table across from her there was somebody that looked familiar to her. She couldn’t put her finger on it but then she found out that the person who was sitting on the table was Ron. She looked back down at Chris and fear was all over his face.
“I’m very sorry but I don’t love you the way you probably love me. I love you like a brother and I hope we can become friends but no I will not marry you. I’m very sorry.” She whispered.
“What?! Are you kidding me?” He yelled. His eyes traced where her eyes were at. He noticed that she was staring straight at Ron. He picked her up by her arm. “You don’t want to marry me because you secretly have a crush on him?! This has to be a joke. Why would you want him over me.” He screamed.
Everyone stared at Jessica and Chris. She sat down and so did Chris. She took a sip of her water. She looked at Chris and felt a tear go down her face. She knew that what he said was the truth and she couldn’t do anything about it. She felt bad about saying no to what he said. She put her hands on top face. She try to hold back her tears but nothing happened. She looked up and stared at the ring. She finally found words to say.
“I’m sorry I don’t love you. Well don’t get me wrong I do love you but as a brother. I can’t correspond to the feelings you have for me. I’m very sorry. I have to go.” She cried.
Ron got up and ran after her. He caught up to her at the parking lot. They looked at each other’s eyes and she forgot about everything. Their lips slowly touched. She pulled back and giggled. She got in her car and later that night Ron threw pebbles at her window and asked her to go out with him. She ran inside her room and looked for a bottle of water. She wrote yes I will. Later she found out that yes all you need is love. With the love of the people that mattered most to her she got over what she needed to get over and could once again have a sincere smile.
Beautiful story. So intense. A roller coaster.
DeleteI stand up here with the wind brushing my face in a more brutal way then to find pleasant. I start to wonder what am I doing up here. For a while now I’ve been moving unconsciously to my own destruction. All the help people tried to give me I pushed away. Every concerned statement I ignored and now the only thing that half way brought me out the trance is this wind beating its own self against me. I could’ve sworn I came up here determined and ready to make a move, as if I was some brainwashed agent. I take another look down and see this fatal choice that I might be making. I step forward, but have multiple voices shaking through me. One’s that scream out “Don’t do this. Just turn around and come home.” Others are mocking me, telling me that I can’t do this or that I was always expected to be a quitter. Though all these voices are dragging me closer to my choice one voice brings me back. One voice shocks me into reality and is somehow keeping me on this edge. A clear sound just saying to me “None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.”
ReplyDeleteMy breath catches short in my throat and I think back to why I’m truly up her. What made me take things this far? What broke in my mind making me decide to make choices that no one would ever consider? For God’s sake I’m about to jump off of a freaking cliff and not once did my mind make me think twice about it. For my whole life I was told what to do. From the moment I was born everything was planned out for me and I never had a say in it. Through all of this I never moaned or groaned about it. I just accepted this planned out life and thought it was the way that I was meant to go on. Then one day something inside of me split. I finally understood that I am human and I am capable of making my own decisions.
The only thing wrong with this little epiphany of mine was the fact that I didn’t understand how to run my own life. Though I ran wild like a young school child that was let out to recess I wasn’t doing this because I wanted to. I was doing all of this because someone told me to. Not someone as in a real living person that you can see and feel, I mean more figuratively. There was another person inside of me that kept whispering devilish ideas and giving me the most outrageous orders. Never once did I ignore the voice or even think twice about telling it no. I just moved unknowingly to what it was telling me. I had tons of people who tried to tell me to stop or even give me a “new” outlook to what I was doing, but I didn’t want their reasoning. I felt as if they were trying to box me in to the old form of enslavement I was in for years.
For the past few days I’ve taken the most extreme of risks. My life was set on the line so much that you would expect me to have died seven times by now. Through all this only one person got through to me and I guess you can say I can dedicate my life to them. Instead of crying to me about how I’m going to end up dead or even trying to pity me out of my decisions they said something to me that ran through me. “None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.”
From the first moment that statement was made to me it ran a chill through my spine. I didn’t catch it at first and just tried to brush it off, but that small choice of words was the biggest impact on me. It seemed to haunt me through every choice I made, but why is it that now out of all times it decided to ring through my mind. Not just ring through my head, but also shock me back into reality. The memory of it being said to me keeps clouding up my mind.
Hey Dylan I’m going down to 4th street for the drag race tonight, you coming?
ReplyDeleteDepends are you going to join in on it?
Probably lol
Then no, Cass you need to stop this.
Before you even say anything else just know everyone else probably already said this to me.
Said what?
Oh Cassie you need to stop doing these crazy things. You’re going to end up dead or something. -_-
I wasn’t going to say any of that, but just remember that none are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.
……..I’ll keep that in mind.
And don’t be stupid and go jump off a cliff or something.
LMFAO!!! I won’t. Bye Dylan.
Bye Cass.
Funny how said I wouldn’t go jumping off a cliff. I took a deep sigh and started to think out loud.
“This has gone way too far. Maybe I need to just get out of here.” I started to turn around when walking up to me looked like the silhouette of my dear friend.
“I thought I told you not to go jumping off of cliffs!” He yelled out to me as he jogged up to where I was.
A smile found its way to my mouth as I called out “I finally understand what you meant” He finally reached me and bent over searching for his breath. Then stood up straight and looked at me with a questioning face.
“I finally understand that I felt as if I was free, because I knew I could make my own choices. Though they were all bad they weren’t even my decisions. I thought I was running free, but really I was being controlled by something inside. Something deeper.” I explained to him, quite quickly might I add.
“Great. So can we leave?” He asked with a smile.
“Sure” I turned to start walking, but he grabbed my arm. I looked back at Dylan confused and he gave me a sly smirk.
“Maybe one last crazy choice wouldn’t be that bad.” He said pulling me close to the edge and we both looked down while the wind blew past us.
“Ready?” He asked a little anxious.
“Ready!” I yelled back as we took a leap off the ledge that I was perched on in deep thought just moments ago. At that moment I understood how I should live my life and all the crazy choices from before were rushed away with the first splash over water covering my face.
This is the true meaning of freedom. Good Job.
Delete“All you need is love”
ReplyDeleteHannah stared at her open textbook. “Why is this so difficult?” She asked herself frustrated with her homework. She continued to stare at the words but could not understand what any of them meant. They only words she could understand was the title of the story, Romeo and Juliet and that was only because she heard her teacher say it over and over again in class. Out of her frustration, Hannah slammed her book closed and threw it off the bed. She walked down the hallway into the kitchen where her mother was preparing dinner.
“What are we having for dinner, ma?” She asked while pouring herself a glass of milk.
“Spaghetti honey, did you finish your homework?” her mom responded.
“Ahh, yeah.” Her words drifted off. She walked through the hallways that were filled with boxes and back into her room. “This is my second day in this stupid school and I already have all this homework to do.” Hannah said to herself in a grump. She ripped open a cardboard box to look for sweatpants to change into. Her and her family had moved from Arizona to Massachusetts over winter break. The change was difficult for her. She not only had to adapt to an entirely new school but also to an entirely new climate. She was use to walking around in shorts all year round, the sun always shinning across the desert landscape. She had never seen snow before, other than when the news would cover those big storms that could hit Utah. Now in Massachusetts, it was forty degrees colder then back in Arizona and there was two inches of snow on the ground. She found it difficult to make friends at her new school because she was so different from everyone. When the others were asking about each other’s holidays and how they spent New Year’s Eve, she stood there and tried not go get into people’s way. The others thought she was strange because she did not have the simple abilities she had. However, there was one person that took the time to learn Hannah’s story, his name was Ryan.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Ryan happened to look over his shoulder during lunch and a beautiful girl caught his eye. “Who is that new girl?” Ryan questioned his friends who were sitting at the table with him. Their conversation switched from last night’s football game to the new girl in school, Hannah.
“Oh, she is in my math class, she is really smart, way out of your league Ryan.” Jacob joked.
“No seriously, she is pretty cute. Anyone know her name?” Ryan asked.
“I think it is Hannah. Taylor was telling me about her before. She said that she is from Arizona and just sits there and doesn’t talk to anyone. She just stares at her book.” Adam told Ryan.
“I’m going to go talk to her.” Without waiting for approval or disapproval from his friends, Ryan stood up from his spot at the lunch table, grabbed his backpack and started walking towards where Hannah was sitting alone.
Hannah looked up as Ryan sat down across the table from her. “Oh I’m sorry, is this your table? I’ll move.” She started collecting her things.
ReplyDelete“No, I came to sit with you.” Ryan said before she had time to leave. Hannah’s attention was captured by Ryan’s stunning green eyes. She sat back down and opened her book again. “So what are you reading?” Ryan asked trying to start a conversation.
“Oh, it’s just Romeo and Juliet. It’s for English.” Hannah was not interested in talking with Ryan.
“Yeah, I remember reading that last year.” Ryan responded. She picked up his seat and brought it closer to where Hannah was sitting. “It was a pretty good play, but some parts were a little difficult to understand. Once you understand Shakespeare’s language, it’s pretty easy, and the footnotes really help.”
“Some parts?” Hannah was astonished. “I don’t understand any part of this play!”
“Well I can help you… if you want. Read to me a part you don’t understand and I will tell you what it means in normal English terms.” Ryan offered.
Hannah just stared at the book, as if she was looking for a section. The problem was that she did not understand any parts because she did not know how to read, but she couldn’t tell Ryan that. She feared that he would judge her. She is a sophomore in high school and she could not read!
“This one.” She pointed. Ryan helped her finish the rest of her homework and by the time the bell rang to dismiss them from lunch, Hannah had a full understand of Romeo and Juliet. Not because she read the play, but because Ryan helped her through every second of the way and answered all her questions.
Ryan continued to sit with Hannah every day during lunch. Eventually, his friends joined him and Hannah at the table. Hannah became part of their group. She felt a little lost when they would talk about sports, but she enjoyed the time with Ryan.
One day after school, Ryan was waiting for Hannah by her locker. He would walk her home from school every day. Ryan and Hannah had become extremely close since she came to the school, but Hannah was still hiding from Ryan that she did not know how to read. Ryan invited her to be his date for prom which was coming up in a few weeks. Prom was a big deal in their school. Most boys would bring their girlfriends or the girl that they liked, so Ryan asking Hannah was a big deal.
I'm guessing that you are continuing this?
Delete“A man’s got to know his limitations.”
ReplyDeleteHow many people throughout history have fallen because they were weak? How many people have not been able to achieve their goals? It happens to a lot of people but they never know why. It is one thing to think of something you want to do throughout life. It could be to anywhere from writing a book to conquering the world. The hard part is actually doing it. That is where the limitation comes in. They aren’t capable of completing their task, even some people as great as Teddy Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, and Adolf Hitler couldn’t complete what they wanted to do. I know people don’t look at Hitler as a good person but everyone has to admit he was ambitious and a good political leader. Anyone would have to be a good political leader to bring German to a world power after their embracing defeat in World War 1. What he did after isn’t really the point; he was able to make Germany an industrial power house that almost conquered all of Europe. However, he didn’t, but instead was defeated by the allies. Hitler made many mistakes just like any human. So did Teddy Roosevelt and Winston Churchill. It’s is impossible for someone not to make a mistake. But some people just don’t get that. That is just one of their many limitations. They don’t accept how weak they are compared to the rest of the world. Just like Napoleon Bonaparte invading Russia. He didn’t comprehend how much of a disadvantage he was at when he invaded. He just thought he could do anything he wanted. This mistake cost him his own empire which he ruled very well. His arrogance led to his downfall like many other leaders before him. Another limitation that people face is that they just can’t do it. They might not be able to complete the task they set out for just because they physically can’t. It is not their fault entirely. However, they need to know the limitations on what they can or can’t do. If they don’t know that then they will not succeed in life. They will end up dying or just failing at whatever they set out for. Instead of doing something that they can’t they need to settle with their own abilities and think of a goal that they can do. If people understand that concept then they will go far in life. Maybe not on a world scale or anything of that nature, but they will succeed at anything they do. Whether it be to pass a test or to get a career in banking. Anything within your limitations is possible for you as long as you know those limitations.
I will tell you a brief story. This guy, Bob, was about to graduate college. He achieved a master’s degree in business. He has always wanted to start a business of his own where he could buy and sell goods. He would be able to meet new people. He could form a life in a small little town where everyone knew him. That is the life that he wants, and it is within his limitations. Since he really wants to be a shop owner he will get that chance. Now let me tell you another story. There was a guy named Tom, he was also about to graduate from the same college as Bob. Now he majored in Math but he didn’t want to go into math. He instead wanted to become a world dictator. He wanted to become a supreme ruler so that everyone would bow to him. Now which one of these people knows there limitations? Bob just wants a nice simple life which he will probably succeed at. His ambitions fit the limitations that he has and he will have fun with his career. Now Bill, who might succeed to begin with since he might appeal to the people. But he will eventually fail and people will try and kill him. That would be the difference between these two men. One will know his limitations and stop at them. He will enjoy life since he will have many friends to surround him. He will also live life just the way he always wanted to. He will enjoy life more just because he loves what he will do for the rest of your life. Bill will learn to regret the decision that he made. The decision to conquer the world would haunt him for the rest of his life. He won’t have any friends since he wanted to control everyone and he won’t enjoy his life once he fails.
ReplyDeleteNow you have to decide. Would you like to test your limitations and end up failing in the end or would you like to keep it safe and do something within your limits. The smart decision would be to take it safe because it is your life. Any mistake you have made will haunt you for the rest of your life. If you take a risky path then the more mistakes you will get. Each one will haunt you and you will never be able to fix it. But if you take a safer path then you will make less mistakes which will benefit you for the rest of your life.
“Religion is the opiate of the masses.”
ReplyDeleteI’ll be honest in saying that up until late, I haven’t found much love in my life at all. Twenty-three years old and I’m living on my own. Parents? Forget ‘em. Sibilings? Hah, don’t make me laugh. My parents didn’t want another burden in their life after their first mistake, being me of course. And of course there are the numerous acquaintances I’ve made that might as well be ringing my doorbell every Sunday afternoon asking me to find love in God. I’ve been there, and I’m not planning to go back any time soon.
I’ll admit, oftentimes I wish I could find salvation in the imaginary friend everyone else seems to hold “oh so dearly in their hearts.” It’s almost sad to realize the truth. It’s like accidently find “Santa’s” presents in the basement two days before Christmas and you’re only six. Living life in ignorance doesn’t seem too bad sometimes. Take my old college roommate, Bethany. Goodness, that girl was a nut… but she was one of the happiest balls of energy I have ever seen. She always credited her good mood to her god, which I didn’t quite understand at all. This girl’s mother died and she was smiling! From the diagnosis to her death, she would walk around proclaiming that “mother is finally going home to see our Lord! Oh she must be so excited!” Never once have I witnessed someone, other than a mortician, feel joy from death.
I don’t really need to imagine what it feels like to be a Bethany, though. I know first-hand exactly what a day in the mindset of Saint Bethany is. Easily, I can admit too, that it all started with a guy. But isn’t that how everything starts? Or at least it is in all of the corny movies from the 80’s I have stored under my bed. Maybe my life isn’t a cheesy romantic comedy from the 80’s, (Well, it might be construed as a comedy…) but for a while there it did seem like one.
His name: Spencer. His talent: drawing you in from across Central Park at 2am on a Saturday night. I know, that doesn’t sound very good... on either of our parts. I mean, it really wasn’t very good either, on my side of things at least. It was one of many extremely rough nights that nobody really likes talking about. I don’t think most people will own up to being kicked out of the car for drinking, crying and flirting just a little too much. There I was, sitting on a park bench with a blood alcohol level that was … a lot higher than it should’ve been, black streams of tears and seemingly toxic mascara running down my cheeks and heels in my hands that were… a lot higher than they should’ve been. Basically, I was a perfect picture of a not-so-hot mess that begged for attention but screamed “don’t get too close.”
That didn’t really stop Spencer in the slightest, though. I suppose it’s just his personality that inviting to all walks of life. More specifically, he called out to the messed up and broken down travelers going down life’s vicious winding roads. Sadly, I was one of those pedestrians, and to add insult to injury, I was going it shoeless and alone. I couldn’t think of another reason that I had attracted Spencer’s attention on that night other than my pathetic appearance and nothing attracted me to him more than his warming smile, sympathetic eyes and my pure curiosity. There he was, sitting in the middle of big open field in Central Park at 2 in the morning. I couldn’t help but question his presence; it was all I could do to forget the reasoning for mine. I was sitting there staring at him as he did the same and next thing I knew, I was up and hastily headed towards this complete stranger without any hesitation at all! Truth be told, that was just in the initiation of my year-long insanity.
Half way to his darkened figure in the grass, I became conscious of my appearance. The mascara from my face found a new home on my forearms and my fingers meddled with my messy hair for a brief moment. Suddenly, there I was, standing in front of this guy as if some outside force had just lifted my body and pulled me in to him.
Delete“Hi” he said.
“Uh, hey.” I replied, quickly realizing I had no true purpose of approaching him.
The standing over him, I had a better view of all his features that glowed a bit more in the dim lighting of the moon. I was shocked at how handsome he was. Surely a man that looked as well-off and attractive as him would be elsewhere on a Saturday night. He patted down in the try summer grass next to him to indicate that I should have a seat. Who was I to argue? My feet were killing me and it was the most pleasant interaction I had experienced all day. He looked at me again with those eyes that somehow seemed to understand exactly how I was feeling at that moment and were trying so hard to say “I’m sorry.” This time I noticed their extraordinary color. They were brown, but not your typical boring, soulless brown like mine. These eyes laminated with just the slightest tint of red that burned into a beautiful auburn. Cheesy enough, they burned into my soul and warmed my soul. I was so entranced by his amazing eyes that I completely missed his second attempt to communicate with me.
“How are you doing?” He asked me again.
I really liked that he wasn’t making my incredibly obvious state of distress seem as incredibly obvious.
TO BE CONTINUED…
“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans.”
ReplyDeleteThis winter was supposed to be the most eventful and awesome winter of my life. Had I not known what would have become of me, my plans would have been completely different. New Years Eve was going to be spent at my house as usual, but my cousins from out of state, who were my age were coming over, That meant not having to sit there talking to the old folks. who can’t say that’s a huge relief? At first, everything worked out perfectly. My Cousins confermed they would be able to come, all the food was being cooked, and all the shampain, whine and liquor was out. I was in the festive mood, and I had my holiday playlist ready. It appeared that nothing could possibly go wrong now.
At about 5:30 P.M., everyone started coming over. I politely greeted my grandparents, aunts and uncles and hung out with my cousins in my room. Since we have only seen each other twice, there was a lot of catching up we had to do. We knew hardly anything about each other, but we would be seeing a lot of each other this winter.
“Are you guys still staying for New Years day?” I asked, hopefully.
“Yeah,” my cousin, Laura replied. “We didn’t change any plans.”
“We should think of something else to do before school starts again” my other cousin Julia added.
We were discussing which days we didn’t already have plans when suddenly, the subwoofer for my iMac shut off, and so did all the lights.
“Ok, that was weird,” Julia commented. Downstairs, we heard my father shouting, “Are you kidding me? It has to go out when I’m in the middle of cooking a turkey!” Sighing, he added, “Now I have to go all the way downstairs and get the generator, hook it up to the garage, this is unbelievable.”
“Does he loose his temper like that a lot,” Laura asked.
“Oh yeah, I said. My father had a history of flashing his temper when things didn’t go according to plan. This one though, was nothing compared to some of his fits before. Just a week ago, the lights on the tree weren’t working the way he wanted to. He had been cursing a mile a minute, ranting about how one bulb going out and them blinking. When my mother or I offered to help, he would just reply with “just let me deal with this, ok? My God!”
Now, we could hear him swinging open and slamming the back door to go to the garage, along with everyone else trying to get him to come back.
“Joell,” I heard my mother say as she opened the door to go after him. “I don’t think this is going to last long at all. Could you please just...”
It was no use. He came back inside, probably flexing his muscles after lugging the heavy generator. My cousins and I just sat there, stifling laughter, trying not to make any noise.
“Ok, I really hope that the power comes back on soon,” I said sighing. “I’m going to go nuts if we have to spend another week without heat.
ReplyDelete“I know,” Laura replied. “this is getting me more and convinced that the world will end. The twenty-first was just the start of it with that random earthquake.”
“We should break out the ouija board,” I suggested. “we can do it by candle light or something.”
“Oh my god, no,” Julia protested. “I used one once at a friend’s house, and let’s just say it was a rather scary experience.”
“Oh come on,” Laura said. “Could you be adventurous for once?”
Just as Julia was going to make another protest, a chill came wofting into the room. A wind started to blow outside, that shook the house. It was just a typical strong wind that goes on in the winter, but I had to admit, I was worried about what would happen a few hours from now. Would all our plans be thrown in the dirt?
As the wind grew stronger, I considdered my life until now. I lived a decent life, I decided, maybe more than decent. I was lucky enough to end it on a posative note by spending New Years Eve with my cousins who I usually don’t get to see.If everything was going to end tonight, then there was nothing I could regret.
“Annemarie, Laura, Julia, get down here Now!” My father shouted from downstairs. If anything like this ever happened, whether it be a hurricane or this mysterious windstorm, my father wanted everyone in his site. As we walked down the hallway, close to one another for warmth, we could hear him say, “I knew it, I knew this was going to happen. I knew there was going to be some storm and...”
“Oh Joell,” my grandmother sighed. “Could you just give it a rest?”
“Ma, I have a really bad feeling about this, ok?”
We spent the hour talking and my aunt and uncle mentioned how we should stay in touch. As we talked, the wind grew louder, and the house began to shake again. This time, it shook harder than before. It was too late now to get any jackets to keep warm, so we had to stay close to one another. Now, the house was shaking so hard that we had to rush to the bacement. Cold air was wrenching through my bones as I sat on the floor in the feedle position, trying to stay somewhat warm. Please make this be a dream, I thought to myself. Why does this night have to be ruined like this? While everyone was talking about what to do in this storm and possibly having to live in the bacement, I lay curled up on the floor and tried to fall asleep. Maybe if I slept deeply enough, I wouldn’t be aware of anything that would happen if this was to be the end. I just couldn’t believe that all my plans in my life, for months and years to come would most likely be for nothing.
“Annemarie, are you awake?” my mother said, interupting my thoughts. “don’t be falling asleep on us.”
“It’s 11:59 guys,” my uncle said glancing at his Time X. “Want to do the count down?”
We waited until there were 20 seconds left to count out loud. This year, we were ot as enthusiastic as we had been years before. When we reached 10, I couldn’t help becoming more and more tense. From the corner of my eye, I saw Laura with the same expression. I ran over to her and grabbed her by the wrists; it was all I could think of doing. We were both shaking like leaves, and every second felt like a minute.
“Five, four, three, two, one,” Crash! From above, there were numerous clattering and banging noises as the house came tumbling down. Without thinking, I dropped onto the floor, pulling Laura down with me. The bacement door leading outside blew off its hindges, sending an icy chill, as if it weren’t cold enough already. My joints had never felt more stiff, and nothing was ever more painful. I could have sworn I felt my organs shutting down one by one, After a few painful minutes, there was only silence and darkness.
wow, I want to read more...
Delete“Now remember everything I told you, Declan,” Mr. Gabriel whispered to his son, with a pat on the back, “you have everything in the bag.”
ReplyDelete“Yeah,” Declan replied, his voice slightly shaky. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I mean, of course. I am Declan Gabriel, after all.”
In the distance of the ballroom was George Winters, Dean of Vardhar College—one of the top colleges in the country—and author of several philosophy books. It was the college Mr. Gabriel dreamed his son would always attend. Making an impression on Mr. Winters tonight was imperative.
Declan took a sip of his sparkling cider that swished in his cup with the shaking of his hands. “Alright, dad,” he said when Mr. Winters finished talking to a random man. “Here goes nothing.” He straightened his tie and began his walk over.
“That’s my boy!” Mr. Gabriel shouted above the chatting of the guests and music from the room.
“Hello, Mr. Winters. My name is Declan Gabriel. It’s pleasure to finally meet you.” Declan held out his hand, giving Mr. Winters a confident stare.
Mr. Winters glared back at Declan for a moment, analyzing him. He stroked his neat, gray beard and analyzed Declan, from his leather oxford shoes to his custom, Italian-made tie. “Finally?” he questioned, taking a sip from his glass cup.
“Yes, I believe you are the Dean of Vardhar College. I’ve recently applied there, and I’ve also read all your books and your blog posts—I’m a huge fan of your work, sir.”
“Ah.” Mr. Winters’ eyebrows shot up. “Declan Gabriel?” He held out his hand.
“Yessir.” The two firmly shook hands. “So, I was wondering, I—”
“—Dad, when is this over again?” A girl’s voice whined.
From behind Mr. Winters, a petite girl with wild, curly dirty blond hair, wearing thick-rimmed glasses emerged. Out of the entire ballroom, she was the only one wearing a tee shirt and jeans amidst a sea of cocktail dresses and ties.
Mr. Winters immediately let go of Declan’s hand and turned to face her. “Maddy, honey. Now, you know how important these charity events are for my organization,” he whispered sharply.
“Oh, yeah?” the girl challenged in a louder tone, “and there’s nothing more exciting than a bunch of rich people shelling out money for people they don’t care about. Now, my kind of charity would get down and dirty. I bet none of these people even think to visit any of the countries of the people we raise money for.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Honey bear, I don’t have time for your hippie movement now,” he whispered back. Turning back to Declan, who was suppressing a smile, Mr. Winters pulled the girl forward. Clearing his throat, he said, “Mr. Gabriel, have you met my daughter, Madeline?”
“Wait, Madeline? Madeline Winters?” Declan spat.
“Declan Gabriel?” she retorted.
“Oh, you two know each other?” Mr. Winters sounded pleasantly surprised.
“Yeah, we go to the same school,” Madeline muttered.
A man wearing a tuxedo suddenly tapped Mr. Winters on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. “Oh, excuse me, for a moment. I have some business to take care of. My apologies, Mr. Gabriel.”
ReplyDelete“Um, it’s fine—I mean, it was a pleasure to meet you, sir!” Declan tried, but Mr. Winters had already disappeared.
Madeline Winters and Declan Gabriel were suddenly left alone. They stood in the center of a room full of wealthy entrepreneurs, who were mingling with one another, and the classical music that flowed from a string quartet nearby. Madeline stared at Declan with her arms still folded across her chest and a slight pout.
“I like your attire this evening,” Declan remarked, referring to her ripped blue jeans and black Pink Floyd tee shirt.
“Oh, shut up, Gabriel.”
“Whoa, whoa, there, honey bear. I’m just trying to make conversation.” He held his hands up as if surrendering after a war. “I never understood why you don’t like me. I barely even know you.”
“Ha! Why I don’t like you?” Madeline sneered. “Please, Declan, my dad’s not around anymore, you don’t have to be civil around me.”
“Okay, since when is your dad George Winters—Dean of Vardhar College?” he exclaimed. “My dad’s been—I mean, I’ve been dying to get into that school for years.”
“You think you actually have a shot to get into Vardhar?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I’m captain of the football team, swim team, and debate team, a straight-A student, have over 400 hours of community service, and was 50 points shy of a perfect score on the SAT.” He let out a grin. “And I would certainly be able to afford it. I think I have a pretty good shot of getting in.” He shrugged.
“Oh, yeah. You’re Declan Gabriel. You have it all, and you think you’re better than everyone else. How could I forget? My bad.”
“Oh, please. Madeline. You’re just jealous of me like everyone else.”
“Jealous of you? I’d never be jealous of you or your other football drones. You guys have nothing to offer. You don’t even know me.” Madeline grimaced.
“Oh, yeah. You’re Madeline Winters,” Declan mocked with a sneer. “Independent thinker. Doesn’t get involved in school at all because it’s too mainstream. Gets in arguments with teachers over politics. Wears band tees and jeans every day. Doesn’t care about anything or anyone but herself. Please, I know exactly who you are, Madeline.”
ReplyDeleteDeclan felt himself smile after his comment. Who did Madeline—a nobody—think she was telling him off like that? However, his smile faded when he saw her walk away. “Wait, where are you going?” He felt compelled to follow her. His body took him outside the ballroom, in a dimly lit hallway.
“Declan, why are you following me?” Her back was turned.
“Well, why did you walk away?”
“It’s something I’ve been doing lately,” Madeline admitted, turning to face Declan. Her eyes were set on him in an impassive manner. “Sometimes, when you don’t want to argue with someone, you should just walk away.”
Declan shook his head. “I don’t get you at all. Why are you so . . . different? I mean, no offense, but I would’ve never guessed your family was loaded. You don’t show it at all.” He gestured to himself with a smile. “I mean, I flaunt it,” he teased, “and it has its perks.”
“But does it make you happy?” she asked.
“Well.” Declan thought about this for a moment. He had money, cars, clothes, popularity, and intelligence. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be? I have everything I need.”
“Yes, you have everything material item you could ever ask for, but are you happy?” Madeline gestured to herself. “I dress like this—the way I want to—and act like this—the way I want to—because it makes me happy. Maybe if people at school knew who my dad was and how much money my family has, they’d treat me differently—perhaps better—but what does that have to do with me? What does it have to do with you?”
“Things make you happy, don’t they?”
“Why do you want to go to Vardhar anyway?”
“Well, my d—I just . . . I mean, if I want to keep up this lifestyle, I want to get a good job one day and make a lot of money . . . Everyone in my family’s successful,” Declan reasoned.
“Why? What’s so bad about being different?”
“It causes problems.”
“That’s a lot of pressure.”
Declan looked away from Madeline’s piercing stare. “Yeah,” he quietly agreed. Then he shook his head. “No, all this stuff makes me happy.”
“Whatever you say, Declan.” Madeline shrugged. “But hey, maybe being a little different is not so much a problem but a solution.” She began to back away from Declan, before turning around once again. “It works for me.”
Epigraph: “None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.”
ReplyDelete“When we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change.”
ReplyDeleteTomorrow is never guaranteed in my line of work. Despite that obvious fact, many of us don’t think about that. We go about our days and drills with false optimism, waiting for another war to break out. The rise and grind is tedious; same shit different day. Unfortunately for me, I’m one of the cowardly men who have the constant fear of death over my head. I was drafted; I don’t want to be here. I can barely sleep at night. I remember one night in particular that did not actually change the way I feel, but changed the way I feel about this. I was in a bunker with a couple of my comrades. It was a muggy, frightening Vietnam night. The enemy was gaining on our position slowly. My friend Brian was with me; he was tough as nails and that attitude never diminished. He was the type of guy to rush in guns blazing and emerge victorious while I covered him like a shy puppy. That night, however, we were given a hard dose of reality that took him as a victim. Gunshots were getting louder like a drummer signaling an execution. Explosions were quick and startling and during one, he let out a whimper and said,
“Do you think we’re gonna make it out of this?” I was stunned. Despite our tough situation, I assumed he was as ruthless as he normally was. I knew Brian for 4 years and in all of those days, he maintained his carefree, yet fearless and driven attitude towards war. I was used to the feeling of fear and I responded,
“I’m not sure, man, but I’m glad I get to go out with you, if we don’t.” His mood lightened a little. I was trying to estimate how many men were advancing and the best guess I could give was a hell of a lot more than 2. I lost many friends that day, almost all of them, in fact. I would have given up my cowardly self to save any one of them and I had the opportunity to, but I failed.
“When we hear voices, we fire and run. It’s our only chance.” Brian demanded. I nodded hesitantly. I heard them get closer and closer and before I knew it, Brian was out of cover shooting while I sat there, bawling.
“What are you doing?!” He yelled. I didn’t know what I was doing, but it was all I could do, until he was shot. His body fell in slow motion and before it hit the ground, I was hit with a rush of adrenaline. My first instinct was to unpin two grenades and toss them out and over the bunker. Accompanied with a smoke grenade, I was in complete cover. I took Brian’s body in a fireman’s carry with me in my dash towards safety. Shots were being fired through the smoke, but with a little evasive skill and a lot of luck, I managed to escape to a cave about 600 meters away where they eventually passed through without finding us. Brian was dead the whole time he was on my back. I was given various awards, but nothing was more precious than reading Brian’s journal where I witnessed his true feelings.
Right out of high school, at the ripe, young age of eighteen, men are discharged into a country they know nothing about; many of these brave men aren’t even sure what they’re fighting for. I’m one of these unfortunate men. I can’t bear being here. I’m scared all of the time of dying. I’m so young and have so much to live for. I can’t be a coward, though, that’s worse than dying. Ma and Pa at home will never think of me the same if I deserted. I have to fight through and come home to them being proud. I don’t know if it’s an act, but these men are ridiculous when it comes to their point of view of Earth. They are first hand witnesses of the evil that can spawn from a simple disagreement between nations. Battles of epic proportions and lose are no fun; I cannot wait to be back home. Their arrogance is blinding, they can say what they want, but this world is bleak. I’m tired of putting on this tough boy act, but it’s necessary to succeed.
“Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time.” – Maya Angelou
ReplyDeleteFirst things first, my name is Meghan Moore and I’m 17 years old from Richmond, Virginia. I’m a junior in high school and I’ve never had a “real” relationship. You know the ones when the boy and the girl are really in love and will do anything for each other? Love seems like something that can be really wonderful or the complete opposite. Everything that comes with happiness usually is followed by pain and hurt, I mean I do watch television. I don’t think I want to get my heart broken the way those girls get hurt in books and in movies. I swear it looks like they will never be the same after that, people say life moves on and whatever the saying is, but nobody really knows how somebody else deals with heartache. On the other hand, I often wonder what it would be like to be in a committed relationship, but I don’t really find that as a priority right now.
To be quite honest, my life is actually boring. I do nothing! I come home, do my homework, take a shower, maybe text a friend or two, eat, and go to bed. I do the same thing five out of seven days of the week. That’s actually sad, when I think about it. On the weekends, I stay home, study, watch movies, and that’s all. My parents keep telling me to get my license, since I already have my permit but what’s the point? It’s not like I have friends that want to ride around with me. I’m actually pathetic, if you haven’t picked that up already. Well I think it’s time I tell you the story of this boy, this one boy that I don’t want to like, but the more you deny your feelings, the more they grow.
I’m not going to flat out say I like him, because I really don’t. I think I just like the attention he gives me. He flirts with me all day through school, well at least in the classes I have with him. I have about six out of nine classes with him. He smiles at me, winks at me, picks up my pencil when I drop it (not on purpose). Does that mean a guy actually likes you though? I don’t think I should get my hopes up. I don’t even have any close friends that I can ask for advice on the matter, so I’m alone to think and make a decision on my own. I don’t even need to be focused on him or what signals he’s trying to give me, I have to start applying for colleges and looking into majors. A boyfriend at this time would just confuse and complicate my life even more.
So far it’s been about a month and a half and he still flirts and everything. I need to stop referring to this guy as “him” though. His name is Chase and he’s a senior, with dark brown hair, dimples, a wide and bright smile, he’s tall, well taller than me since I’m only 5’1. The fact that he’s a senior scares me the most because what would he want with me? I’m a lonely junior with absolutely no social life what so ever. I forgot to mention something though, yesterday he told me that he had two tickets to some new restaurant opening up around the corner. I’m not sure if he was inviting me or not, and I didn’t ask or hint at the fact that I was interested. What if he was only trying to make conversation with me? I’m so insecure it makes no sense, I really need professional help! Am I overthinking the situation? Should I just ask him out instead?
ReplyDeleteSo guess what? I asked him out and he said yes! I guess it wasn’t that hard. We’re supposed to be going out this Friday and I hope everything goes as planned. I can’t afford anything to go wrong. I just want that one night to be special and perfect. At the same time I don’t want to put too much thought into it.
The date was great, we went to the new restaurant and laughed the entire night. I really like him, he says there isn’t anything I want more. I think I love him, oh gosh I feel sick!
Aww....so cute.
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