Gavin gestured towards the spit. “About to eat dinner and move out. We’re meeting with another Syndicate cell that’s made camp in the hills around the city. Having Isaac and I with them during raids does wonders for morale, and we’ll be doing some of that tonight.” Damian saw a wicked smile spread over Gavin’s face that, a little to his dismay, was matched by the grin on Isaac’s face. Before he could question it, Isaac sat at the spit and began to eat while Gavin put Damian in a playful headlock. “But now that you’re awake, we can actually start getting somewhere in this war.” Isaac laughed as Gavin wrenched Damian all around the camp as he struggled to break free of the headlock, but Damian wasn’t even trying that hard. He was actually happy. Gavin, though a completely different person now, was acting like a friend to him. Even Isaac seemed to be treating Damian as an equal. It was crazy, but for the first time in the longest time, Damian finally had friends. He knew that he was being used. He they were only acting this way because they needed him for something, but for now, he was okay with that. For now, Damian was happy where he was.
Barbra was very excited that she was expecting a baby boy. Barbra went to the doctor a couple weeks before the baby was due just to make sure everything was going okay. She was healthy and so was the baby. She couldn’t wait until the day came that she could hold her child. Her due date rolled around and it was finally time for her to have the baby. Barbra had to undergo a C-section. After she finally woke up the doctor handed her two babies. Barbra was confused and said, “I only had one baby whose baby is this?” The doctor responded, “what are you talking about you had twins.” Barbra was freaking out because she only wanted one baby, now she had two boys when she only wanted one. She had a name in mind that she was going to call her son that was Tommy, but she didn’t know what to name the other one. A couple weeks past and Barbra still hadn’t named her smaller weaker son. In the meantime Tommy was doing wonderful he was growing and he was healthy. One morning Barbra woke up to check on her sons. Tommy was wide awake in his crib and the other son was lying face down. When Barbra picked him up, his face was blue. She decided to rush him to the hospital where he was later pronounced dead. The baby was only three weeks old. The baby boy was buried still never named.
There is a place that still remains nameless; and the people there have settled with that fact. It is no bother to them because to name a country so vast, so diverse, and on the other hand so small, so particular, is more than a challenge—more than a decision. To put it rather simply, it is unfair. If there were two Jonathans working at a restaurant, except each with their own last name, would it be considered fair to call them both “Jonathan”? Although one part of their identity is similar, the other is immensely separate. Just with this place, the executives were unable to decide on one name—one identity. To compromise in this world is to render one’s self completely; and that is not an option when it comes to a nation, for this is no common place. The rivers run laterally and longitudinally. The valleys dip low while the mountains soar high, and the sea that surrounds it is created by three oceans’ water. It is both hot and cold at all times depending on where you stand. It is both lusciously green and barrenly dusty depending on where you look. What sort of name could be given to such a place? It would be unfair to imprison it with such a finite piece of its identity. To give it a name would be unethical because there is yet more room for this place of beauty to grow—to expand and shrink, to ebb and flow. Thus, it remains nameless so as to keep its identity intact, its character a whole.
Your name is who you are. It’s like your title for everyone. With that title, comes a personality; different for everyone. There are no two people who share the same title. They may have the same name but they won’t have the same exact personality. For some it’s hard to find their title. Without a title it’s almost as if they have no name. Your personality is who you are as a person. It may take a while to fully figure that out. Many people may think they know who they are but through experiences they come to a realization that they were completely wrong. They had no idea who they were. At that moment when they actually find out who they are is when they have their title. They receive their so called name. It all comes with time. However some people are luckily able to figure out their title very quickly. It all depends on the person. Then there are those are unable to ever fully find themselves, which is very unfortunate Those are the people who never receive a title; never named.
It was easier that way After all the vagaries The translucent swirling The cyclonic perpetuity of grey Pushing out Until there was only a chasm Within It was easier to give it away To let the world inscribe its own Ceaseless appellations upon it For, as always, definition is contingent upon perception And sight, even hindsight, failed This unspeakable force The reckoning of youth and age The recognition of the thoughtless consumption of time All the revelations of all the days Like shifting shapes Words formed By all the tongues Of our careless encounters We are tangled between two wombs Torn down, and never put up Essentially motherless Struggling to climb out from under The weight of something An inherited burden Like a child Never named
When he woke up he was on the side of the rode with his car right next to him upside down. He was unaware about anything that has happened although the car flipped and all the blood on him made it obvious. He completely lost his memory. He had no idea where he was or even who he was. He had a body of a grown man but a mind like a new born. He got up and started walking even though he really had no idea where he was going. It looked like he was in the middle of nowhere. No cars and no people came along. He was all alone walking god knows where. He walked for what seemed to be hours. Blood still dripping out of all the wounds on his body. He knew he had to find someone or somehow to get to a hospital. Eventually a hiker came and noticed him. She ran to his help and he collapsed in her arms. She immediately called for an ambulance. While they waited she asked him questions. The first one she asked was what his name was. When he tried to think of an answer, he couldn’t and all he could say was “oh my gosh, I don’t remember”
It’s absolutely crazy how things turn out to be. She felt like she had it all in a moment, but the next it all turned into nothing. She never knew why she had to hide it. Her relationship was not a regular one, but nothing short of beautiful. If I were to describe it to anybody else, they would observe it all as wrong. To me though—it was like an entertaining magic show; out of no where he would disappear. She couldn't contact him to find out where he was or when he was coming. She could only wait for his presence; wait for it to surprise her. It sounds like a hide and seek game but it really wasn't...looking for him would be done in vain. She only knew everything he told her about him, but it was not enough. I can't even say they were friends, because even as a friendship, what they had just made no sense. What I know best though is he was irresistible to her and she could not bear to push him away. She had a gotten used to him leaving and then coming right back. Upon his exit, she never seemed to be sad. Then one day, he left her just like he came--all of a sudden. Their relationship was never gentle, always abrupt but it never seemed to take an abrupt toll on her though. One day he came back though, after a year of hopeless waiting on her behalf, he came back to bring back all she felt again. This time it was different though--her reaction when he left. Her reaction was just as abrupt as the way he left her once again. She killed herself in the name of what she felt, in the name of what they had. In the name of their friendship or relationship, in the name of that which was never named.
They call me Jane. They’ve been calling me that ever since a jogger found me crying in a bush when I was three months old. Even as the police did all they claim they could to find my mother, they never did. There was no carriage or anything except a hand sewn blanket wrapped around me. They call me Jane…as in Jane Doe. That’s exactly what Child Protection Services put on my records. Every time I get in trouble at my foster home that’s what I hear “JANE!” I hate it, it doesn’t sound like it belongs to my face. Most people disagree, saying that Jane Doe is a special name meant to fit any face. I usually have a morbid response like, “That’s what they call unidentified dead women.” I’m almost eighteen and I plan on changing my name but I have no idea where to start. I have never named a pet or baby brother or sister. How is someone who has never been named supposed to name herself? I’ve even done some research trying to find a meaningful name. But there’s always the trouble with the last name. I can’t be expected to live on with the maiden name Doe. The morning I had planned to go change my name, I still had nothing. In hopes of trying to learn more about myself, I went to social services to find the woman that had searched for the right home for me (more than once). We sat down over lunch and talked about my “never named” problem (she had nicknamed my situation). She told me, that a common name or rare name is irrelevant. A name is only words unless there is a story behind it. My story gave my name meaning; no matter how many other women had that name, they didn’t have my story.
So empty So beautiful So alone, but somehow still breathtaking This wonderful place that leaves you feeling at ease But somehow on edge at the same time It gives you a sense of being at home Of being found, but then again That wanderlust still tickles you This place, it will inspire you It will make you think you’ve reached an epiphany It’ll have you believing that you’ve found the solution That you’ve found the answer to all your problems and then suddenly Suddenly! You just lose it all It’ll all disappear into the fog of the… Everything and nothing will catch your eye there You’ll be entertained and bored Tired but also wide awake A crazy conundrum I’d say You’ll want to test your limits You’ll want to see if gravity can be broken on Earth You’ll want to fly and talk to the plants You’ll want to live in the ocean amongst the….. But then again You’ll become apprehensive You’ll wonder “Should I really take that chance?” “Should I really do that jump?” “Does it really make sense to go there?” And once again you’ve fallen victim of the curse/blessing of …… And what do we call this place? Well that’s the crazy part No one really knows Those who have been there leave it to the imagination They do not dwell upon names They don’t bother themselves with them Maybe this place will never be named Maybe it will always be a mystery Maybe this spectacular disaster will always be known as -
She always stood out among the rest. You can tell that there was something different about her and no one knew what it was. She was always so quiet and so small that you may think that she wouldn’t be noticeable, but she was. We grew up never knowing what her name was. It was as if she was never named. Her picture was never in the yearbook and no one ever saw any sign of knowing it. Some kid claims they know her name and that her name is Elizabeth, but we decided to not believe it. We never see her anywhere except for school. No one knows where she lives, it seems like she talks to absolutely no one in school and that means that she has no friends here. Some people find her freaky and no one wants to talk to her because of it. I’m starting to believe she’s weird because she just doesn’t want to talk to anyone and no one knows her name. So one day I walked up to her and I asked her what her name was. She looked at me and then started to laugh, then walked away. She then stopped and turned around and said, “Oh silly, I was never named” and she walked quietly down the hall with everyone starring at her.
Imagine coming out the hospital, nameless. No name, no title, nothing to call yourself. No name for people to call you. Your name is what gives you entitlement. In this world, everyone has or should have a name. People have nicknames, pet names and they all vary and sometimes it’s just something to describe you. For example, the nickname most of my family call me is Chili’s. They call me that because ever since I was small, that would be my favorite restaurant to go to. I loved going there almost every Saturday and Sunday afternoon with my family. It was something that caught on as tradition and ever since that, they call me Chili’s. I have to admit that at first I didn’t like but I grew close to it and now it feels weird if my family members call me by my name instead of my nickname that I’ve had since I was about 5. Nicknames are also sometimes just short parts of your name. I have nicknames for most of my family and most of my close friends. I feel like it’s also a way of showing comfortability with that other person. So imagine if you have a nickname or you really like your name, imagine not having one. Wouldn’t it feel weird? As if you are just a nameless body. Sounds crazy and I am so thankful I have a name.
The happy news quickly spreads throughout friends and family A celebration comes from everybody Then one day when she is alone she gets hit hard on her stomach She is rushed to the hospital All her family and friends go to be a support system She comes out they say that she just has to take it easy For a couple of days she still feels weak She has people over giving her all the support she needs One night, she wakes up and she feels her blanket it wet She turns on the light to see blood on the bed She is rushed to the hospital After hours in the emergency room her husband comes in the room He grabs onto her hands and looks into her eyes He says “It was a boy” A tear falls from her face and she is relieved to know the premature baby came out fine Just then as they are celebrating calling up family and friends the doctor pulls out the husband They spend a couple of minutes talking He comes back in with his face looking at the ground He hugs her and she knows the news already They begin to cry She looks into his eyes and says “I’m sorry” The baby was never named
I walked the streets frightened, yet it was the middle of the day. My thoughts took me to a dark, cloudy place, far away from this bright, summer day. All the girls walking past me wore short shorts or skirts, but my Bermuda shorts reached my knee. I admired pretty hair cut on suntanned shoulders, which were covered only by a thin strand on a nice shirt. But I was afraid to look like them, afraid to be admired. Instead, I let my hair grow long and I let my bangs cover my face. I thought, if no one could look into my eyes, no one would have access into my thoughts, into my vulnerability, into my life. I wore a baggy t-shirts every day. When I reached my block, I felt some relief, but as soon as I turned the knob on my front door I felt fear all over me. The memories were a blur, yet they covered my whole body in chills. After a few moments, I opened my eyes, every day I remembered this wasn’t even the same house. My sister rushed to greet me, wanting to protect me. “We won’t be found,” she reminded me, “we’re safe”. But I trembled at the thought of him. He, who hid from everyone when we only fought to escape him. He, who disappeared and left without a name. Although the damage was already done, he was never named.
It was cold in this house. This boarded up house that I’d been living in. This was the first house I’d ever lived in alone. My mother and I used to just hop form abandoned house to abandoned house, but one day she just never came back, I don’t like to think about what must’ve happened to her. But now here I am, all alone, and the thing is; nobody cares. And why would anyone care? I’m no one and nothing. The thing is, I’m so unimportant in this world that if someone asked me my name, I wouldn’t even be able to tell them. I have one, I know that I do, but I haven’t heard it in so long, that I honestly wouldn’t even be able to tell you. It just doesn’t feel like it belongs to me. It would just feel so sour on my tongue to say that it was mine. How could it be mine when I have nothing, when I am nothing? I have no name because I have no one to use it, and nothing that belongs to me. I’m nothing more than a piece of matter, just floating by amongst a crowd of people who serve an actual purpose in this world.
I crouched down with my bow & arrow at the ready;listening, seeing, feeling the trees around me for any threat.The faint sound of something flying through the trees grew louder, until we could see the faint outline of another dagger coming into view. I looked into Papa’s eyes hoping to see confidence,but all I saw was fear and great concern.The dagger was closing in we had to get out of there, so we ran like our lives depended on it, which it did. We ducked behind a pair of trees catching our breath. “Son promise me you won’t stop running if something happens to me, please?” “What do you mean? What’s going on? Who threw the daggers?” I asked frantically. At the same time the dagger stabbed the tree right in between us. I looked at my Papa as he put his finger to his lips indicating for me to be quiet he then drew his sword. “Hahaha Lycus. It’s just like you to run and hide, but obviously you know it’s futile. I gave you time which was a very generous gift , that in my opinion you did not deserve. Come out like a man if you can.” sneered a deep voice . Papa stepped from behind the tree and gave me a fleeting look of love and pride. He then smiled and said “Hello Ares . It took you long enough. What were you too scared to fight me in my youth?”, Papa countered. I looked around the tree to see the god of war, Ares. Ares was probably two feet taller than Papa , with a muscular body. His hair was black and cut short; his eyes were an amber color that looked frightening. Ares then noticed me and his eyes widened slightly,but then returned to slits staring at my father. “I would kill the boy too, but she demands that he lives.” “Who is she?”, I questioned. “Who is she?” Ares laughed, “She is your mother. I guess old Papa didn't tell you, huh?”
Ever since I could remember I was in foster care. I never knew my mom and dad. The people at the place told me that my parents were incapable of taking care of me, which led to their decision of putting me here. I have been in an out of homes, the last three years I have been stuck here because no one wants a teenager, they all want cute little kids that won’t remember where they came from and will always look as them as their parents. They don’t want some teenage kid that remembers where they came from, they don’t want them saying you only adopted and you aren't my real parents, but no one believes that I’m not like that. I want a home. One day these two people came in with a baby, I looked at them thinking how wrong they were to be giving up that baby because they looked perfectly fit to be parents. As I sat and watched they walked into the adoption room to fill out paper work which I thought was odd. A few minutes after the worker came in and pulled me and three other teenaged boys and girls into the hall, she told us they were looking for someone to be an older sister or brother to their young child. The family came in and looked at us all, then she walked up to me handed me the baby and said meet your baby sister. I was thrilled to be with a new family I just hoped they would keep me.They pulled me into the office and finished filling out the paper. “What is your name” new mom asked me.I looked at her, looked at my new father, and then looked down, I had nothing to say. The worker leaned and whispered to them. My new mom just looked at me and said sorry. What name would you like to have, pick any and we will let you have it forever. When I was given up I didn't have a name, my parents never decided to give me one.
“Sweet Child, do you dare wonder in the woods alone?” I’d been sitting on the floor of an old beat down cabin for what had seemed like hours. Awaiting the arrival of my kidnapper, who had stepped into the other room to ‘take a call’, I could only imagine what would be in store for me. It was nearing midnight, marking the 12th hour since I had been taken away, and I was almost definite my mother had still not gone out to look for me. Why would she? A daughter without a name, who would have known shed had gone missing, anyways? I mean she wasn’t really my mother, but that still gave her no right to let me grow up without a title, without a name to be called by, without anything to label myself as, or even introduce myself as. And now, as I sit in this cabin, awaiting my death, everything became clear to me. I was never meant to be here, this was how it was supposed to happen. I would be forgotten about within almost hours after the news of my death, if there was any. Who would remember the girl without a name, as anything more than simply that?
There were three friends’ three friends in a restaurant one day. It was already closing time but two of the friends worked in the restaurant, so the boss left them to lock up. But they did not lock up they decided to keep the restaurant open 24 hours. So it got boring because no one was coming so the three friends began talking about scary stories. There were some scary one but there were also one that were not scary at all. However, the last one that came up was the story of the one never to be named. It was not because if you said the name something bad would happen. But because when the never named would come to attack people no one would be able to say the name when they were getting attacked. The name was The Head Banging Basher. Everyone was scared but while they were scared they realized that they needed to throw the thrash out. But the trash container was outside and one of the three friends had to go throw it out. While it was pitch black outside they were scared, finally one maned up and ran outside with the trash. While the other two were inside they heard yelling, “The Head binging Dasher, The The Head slinging Danger.” After that no more…
I got two tiny pet turtles as a gift about two years ago. Not only am I completely indecisive but I did not even know what their sexes were so I could not come up with names for them. Several months went by and honestly I had lost much of the enthusiasm of having them but I would still feed them and clean their homemade terrarium. One of them, however, was not growing as much as the other one and it was not eating or doing much at all. Eventually it died and it actually upset me, I put him/her in a cute little gift box and buried it at the park. The other one still lives and I still take care of it but it has remained nameless. Over time, I have come up with several names for it but for some reason in the end I feel like they just aren’t right or they do not go well with it. I decided to just leave it nameless as so much time has passed anyway and because the other one died without a name, I figured it’d only be right. They will remain forever without a name.
Gavin gestured towards the spit. “About to eat dinner and move out. We’re meeting with another Syndicate cell that’s made camp in the hills around the city. Having Isaac and I with them during raids does wonders for morale, and we’ll be doing some of that tonight.”
ReplyDeleteDamian saw a wicked smile spread over Gavin’s face that, a little to his dismay, was matched by the grin on Isaac’s face. Before he could question it, Isaac sat at the spit and began to eat while Gavin put Damian in a playful headlock.
“But now that you’re awake, we can actually start getting somewhere in this war.”
Isaac laughed as Gavin wrenched Damian all around the camp as he struggled to break free of the headlock, but Damian wasn’t even trying that hard. He was actually happy. Gavin, though a completely different person now, was acting like a friend to him. Even Isaac seemed to be treating Damian as an equal. It was crazy, but for the first time in the longest time, Damian finally had friends. He knew that he was being used. He they were only acting this way because they needed him for something, but for now, he was okay with that. For now, Damian was happy where he was.
Barbra was very excited that she was expecting a baby boy. Barbra went to the doctor a couple weeks before the baby was due just to make sure everything was going okay. She was healthy and so was the baby. She couldn’t wait until the day came that she could hold her child. Her due date rolled around and it was finally time for her to have the baby. Barbra had to undergo a C-section.
ReplyDeleteAfter she finally woke up the doctor handed her two babies. Barbra was confused and said,
“I only had one baby whose baby is this?”
The doctor responded, “what are you talking about you had twins.”
Barbra was freaking out because she only wanted one baby, now she had two boys when she only wanted one. She had a name in mind that she was going to call her son that was Tommy, but she didn’t know what to name the other one.
A couple weeks past and Barbra still hadn’t named her smaller weaker son. In the meantime Tommy was doing wonderful he was growing and he was healthy. One morning Barbra woke up to check on her sons. Tommy was wide awake in his crib and the other son was lying face down. When Barbra picked him up, his face was blue. She decided to rush him to the hospital where he was later pronounced dead. The baby was only three weeks old. The baby boy was buried still never named.
There is a place that still remains nameless; and the people there have settled with that fact. It is no bother to them because to name a country so vast, so diverse, and on the other hand so small, so particular, is more than a challenge—more than a decision. To put it rather simply, it is unfair. If there were two Jonathans working at a restaurant, except each with their own last name, would it be considered fair to call them both “Jonathan”? Although one part of their identity is similar, the other is immensely separate. Just with this place, the executives were unable to decide on one name—one identity. To compromise in this world is to render one’s self completely; and that is not an option when it comes to a nation, for this is no common place. The rivers run laterally and longitudinally. The valleys dip low while the mountains soar high, and the sea that surrounds it is created by three oceans’ water. It is both hot and cold at all times depending on where you stand. It is both lusciously green and barrenly dusty depending on where you look. What sort of name could be given to such a place? It would be unfair to imprison it with such a finite piece of its identity. To give it a name would be unethical because there is yet more room for this place of beauty to grow—to expand and shrink, to ebb and flow. Thus, it remains nameless so as to keep its identity intact, its character a whole.
ReplyDeleteYour name is who you are. It’s like your title for everyone. With that title, comes a personality; different for everyone. There are no two people who share the same title. They may have the same name but they won’t have the same exact personality. For some it’s hard to find their title. Without a title it’s almost as if they have no name. Your personality is who you are as a person. It may take a while to fully figure that out. Many people may think they know who they are but through experiences they come to a realization that they were completely wrong. They had no idea who they were. At that moment when they actually find out who they are is when they have their title. They receive their so called name. It all comes with time. However some people are luckily able to figure out their title very quickly. It all depends on the person. Then there are those are unable to ever fully find themselves, which is very unfortunate Those are the people who never receive a title; never named.
ReplyDeleteIt was easier that way
ReplyDeleteAfter all the vagaries
The translucent swirling
The cyclonic perpetuity of grey
Pushing out
Until there was only a chasm
Within
It was easier to give it away
To let the world inscribe its own
Ceaseless appellations upon it
For, as always, definition is contingent upon perception
And sight, even hindsight, failed
This unspeakable force
The reckoning of youth and age
The recognition of the thoughtless consumption of time
All the revelations of all the days
Like shifting shapes
Words formed
By all the tongues
Of our careless encounters
We are tangled between two wombs
Torn down, and never put up
Essentially motherless
Struggling to climb out from under
The weight of something
An inherited burden
Like a child
Never named
When he woke up he was on the side of the rode with his car right next to him upside down. He was unaware about anything that has happened although the car flipped and all the blood on him made it obvious. He completely lost his memory. He had no idea where he was or even who he was. He had a body of a grown man but a mind like a new born. He got up and started walking even though he really had no idea where he was going. It looked like he was in the middle of nowhere. No cars and no people came along. He was all alone walking god knows where. He walked for what seemed to be hours. Blood still dripping out of all the wounds on his body. He knew he had to find someone or somehow to get to a hospital. Eventually a hiker came and noticed him. She ran to his help and he collapsed in her arms. She immediately called for an ambulance. While they waited she asked him questions. The first one she asked was what his name was. When he tried to think of an answer, he couldn’t and all he could say was “oh my gosh, I don’t remember”
ReplyDeleteIt’s absolutely crazy how things turn out to be. She felt like she had it all in a moment, but the next it all turned into nothing. She never knew why she had to hide it. Her relationship was not a regular one, but nothing short of beautiful. If I were to describe it to anybody else, they would observe it all as wrong. To me though—it was like an entertaining magic show; out of no where he would disappear. She couldn't contact him to find out where he was or when he was coming. She could only wait for his presence; wait for it to surprise her. It sounds like a hide and seek game but it really wasn't...looking for him would be done in vain. She only knew everything he told her about him, but it was not enough. I can't even say they were friends, because even as a friendship, what they had just made no sense. What I know best though is he was irresistible to her and she could not bear to push him away. She had a gotten used to him leaving and then coming right back. Upon his exit, she never seemed to be sad. Then one day, he left her just like he came--all of a sudden. Their relationship was never gentle, always abrupt but it never seemed to take an abrupt toll on her though. One day he came back though, after a year of hopeless waiting on her behalf, he came back to bring back all she felt again. This time it was different though--her reaction when he left. Her reaction was just as abrupt as the way he left her once again. She killed herself in the name of what she felt, in the name of what they had. In the name of their friendship or relationship, in the name of that which was never named.
ReplyDeleteThey call me Jane. They’ve been calling me that ever since a jogger found me crying in a bush when I was three months old. Even as the police did all they claim they could to find my mother, they never did. There was no carriage or anything except a hand sewn blanket wrapped around me. They call me Jane…as in Jane Doe. That’s exactly what Child Protection Services put on my records. Every time I get in trouble at my foster home that’s what I hear “JANE!” I hate it, it doesn’t sound like it belongs to my face. Most people disagree, saying that Jane Doe is a special name meant to fit any face. I usually have a morbid response like, “That’s what they call unidentified dead women.” I’m almost eighteen and I plan on changing my name but I have no idea where to start. I have never named a pet or baby brother or sister. How is someone who has never been named supposed to name herself? I’ve even done some research trying to find a meaningful name. But there’s always the trouble with the last name. I can’t be expected to live on with the maiden name Doe. The morning I had planned to go change my name, I still had nothing. In hopes of trying to learn more about myself, I went to social services to find the woman that had searched for the right home for me (more than once). We sat down over lunch and talked about my “never named” problem (she had nicknamed my situation). She told me, that a common name or rare name is irrelevant. A name is only words unless there is a story behind it. My story gave my name meaning; no matter how many other women had that name, they didn’t have my story.
ReplyDeleteAn interesting way to take the prompt, especially the part about the significance of stories within names.
DeleteSo empty
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful
So alone, but somehow still breathtaking
This wonderful place that leaves you feeling at ease
But somehow on edge at the same time
It gives you a sense of being at home
Of being found, but then again
That wanderlust still tickles you
This place, it will inspire you
It will make you think you’ve reached an epiphany
It’ll have you believing that you’ve found the solution
That you’ve found the answer to all your problems and then suddenly
Suddenly!
You just lose it all
It’ll all disappear into the fog of the…
Everything and nothing will catch your eye there
You’ll be entertained and bored
Tired but also wide awake
A crazy conundrum I’d say
You’ll want to test your limits
You’ll want to see if gravity can be broken on Earth
You’ll want to fly and talk to the plants
You’ll want to live in the ocean amongst the…..
But then again
You’ll become apprehensive
You’ll wonder “Should I really take that chance?”
“Should I really do that jump?”
“Does it really make sense to go there?”
And once again you’ve fallen victim of the curse/blessing of ……
And what do we call this place?
Well that’s the crazy part
No one really knows
Those who have been there leave it to the imagination
They do not dwell upon names
They don’t bother themselves with them
Maybe this place will never be named
Maybe it will always be a mystery
Maybe this spectacular disaster will always be known as -
I love the "wanderlust" of the lines as well, the shifting of topics and the tangents.
DeleteShe always stood out among the rest. You can tell that there was something different about her and no one knew what it was. She was always so quiet and so small that you may think that she wouldn’t be noticeable, but she was. We grew up never knowing what her name was. It was as if she was never named. Her picture was never in the yearbook and no one ever saw any sign of knowing it. Some kid claims they know her name and that her name is Elizabeth, but we decided to not believe it. We never see her anywhere except for school. No one knows where she lives, it seems like she talks to absolutely no one in school and that means that she has no friends here. Some people find her freaky and no one wants to talk to her because of it. I’m starting to believe she’s weird because she just doesn’t want to talk to anyone and no one knows her name. So one day I walked up to her and I asked her what her name was. She looked at me and then started to laugh, then walked away. She then stopped and turned around and said, “Oh silly, I was never named” and she walked quietly down the hall with everyone starring at her.
ReplyDeleteImagine coming out the hospital, nameless. No name, no title, nothing to call yourself. No name for people to call you. Your name is what gives you entitlement. In this world, everyone has or should have a name. People have nicknames, pet names and they all vary and sometimes it’s just something to describe you. For example, the nickname most of my family call me is Chili’s. They call me that because ever since I was small, that would be my favorite restaurant to go to. I loved going there almost every Saturday and Sunday afternoon with my family. It was something that caught on as tradition and ever since that, they call me Chili’s. I have to admit that at first I didn’t like but I grew close to it and now it feels weird if my family members call me by my name instead of my nickname that I’ve had since I was about 5. Nicknames are also sometimes just short parts of your name. I have nicknames for most of my family and most of my close friends. I feel like it’s also a way of showing comfortability with that other person. So imagine if you have a nickname or you really like your name, imagine not having one. Wouldn’t it feel weird? As if you are just a nameless body. Sounds crazy and I am so thankful I have a name.
ReplyDeleteThe happy news quickly spreads throughout friends and family
ReplyDeleteA celebration comes from everybody
Then one day when she is alone she gets hit hard on her stomach
She is rushed to the hospital
All her family and friends go to be a support system
She comes out they say that she just has to take it easy
For a couple of days she still feels weak
She has people over giving her all the support she needs
One night, she wakes up and she feels her blanket it wet
She turns on the light to see blood on the bed
She is rushed to the hospital
After hours in the emergency room her husband comes in the room
He grabs onto her hands and looks into her eyes
He says “It was a boy”
A tear falls from her face and she is relieved to know the premature baby came out fine
Just then as they are celebrating calling up family and friends the doctor pulls out the husband
They spend a couple of minutes talking
He comes back in with his face looking at the ground
He hugs her and she knows the news already
They begin to cry
She looks into his eyes and says “I’m sorry”
The baby was never named
I walked the streets frightened, yet it was the middle of the day. My thoughts took me to a dark, cloudy place, far away from this bright, summer day. All the girls walking past me wore short shorts or skirts, but my Bermuda shorts reached my knee. I admired pretty hair cut on suntanned shoulders, which were covered only by a thin strand on a nice shirt. But I was afraid to look like them, afraid to be admired. Instead, I let my hair grow long and I let my bangs cover my face. I thought, if no one could look into my eyes, no one would have access into my thoughts, into my vulnerability, into my life. I wore a baggy t-shirts every day. When I reached my block, I felt some relief, but as soon as I turned the knob on my front door I felt fear all over me. The memories were a blur, yet they covered my whole body in chills. After a few moments, I opened my eyes, every day I remembered this wasn’t even the same house. My sister rushed to greet me, wanting to protect me. “We won’t be found,” she reminded me, “we’re safe”. But I trembled at the thought of him. He, who hid from everyone when we only fought to escape him. He, who disappeared and left without a name. Although the damage was already done, he was never named.
ReplyDeleteIt was cold in this house. This boarded up house that I’d been living in. This was the first house I’d ever lived in alone. My mother and I used to just hop form abandoned house to abandoned house, but one day she just never came back, I don’t like to think about what must’ve happened to her.
ReplyDeleteBut now here I am, all alone, and the thing is; nobody cares. And why would anyone care? I’m no one and nothing. The thing is, I’m so unimportant in this world that if someone asked me my name, I wouldn’t even be able to tell them.
I have one, I know that I do, but I haven’t heard it in so long, that I honestly wouldn’t even be able to tell you. It just doesn’t feel like it belongs to me. It would just feel so sour on my tongue to say that it was mine. How could it be mine when I have nothing, when I am nothing?
I have no name because I have no one to use it, and nothing that belongs to me. I’m nothing more than a piece of matter, just floating by amongst a crowd of people who serve an actual purpose in this world.
Alternate Assignment:
ReplyDeleteI crouched down with my bow & arrow at the ready;listening, seeing, feeling the trees around me for any threat.The faint sound of something flying through the trees grew louder, until we could see the faint outline of another dagger coming into view. I looked into Papa’s eyes hoping to see confidence,but all I saw was fear and great concern.The dagger was closing in we had to get out of there, so we ran like our lives depended on it, which it did. We ducked behind a pair of trees catching our breath.
“Son promise me you won’t stop running if something happens to me, please?”
“What do you mean? What’s going on? Who threw the daggers?” I asked frantically.
At the same time the dagger stabbed the tree right in between us. I looked at my Papa as he put his finger to his lips indicating for me to be quiet he then drew his sword.
“Hahaha Lycus. It’s just like you to run and hide, but obviously you know it’s futile. I gave you time which was a very generous gift , that in my opinion you did not deserve. Come out like a man if you can.” sneered a deep voice .
Papa stepped from behind the tree and gave me a fleeting look of love and pride.
He then smiled and said “Hello Ares . It took you long enough. What were you too scared to fight me in my youth?”, Papa countered.
I looked around the tree to see the god of war, Ares. Ares was probably two feet taller than Papa , with a muscular body. His hair was black and cut short; his eyes were an amber color that looked frightening. Ares then noticed me and his eyes widened slightly,but then returned to slits staring at my father.
“I would kill the boy too, but she demands that he lives.”
“Who is she?”, I questioned.
“Who is she?” Ares laughed, “She is your mother. I guess old Papa didn't tell you, huh?”
Ever since I could remember I was in foster care. I never knew my mom and dad. The people at the place told me that my parents were incapable of taking care of me, which led to their decision of putting me here. I have been in an out of homes, the last three years I have been stuck here because no one wants a teenager, they all want cute little kids that won’t remember where they came from and will always look as them as their parents. They don’t want some teenage kid that remembers where they came from, they don’t want them saying you only adopted and you aren't my real parents, but no one believes that I’m not like that. I want a home. One day these two people came in with a baby, I looked at them thinking how wrong they were to be giving up that baby because they looked perfectly fit to be parents. As I sat and watched they walked into the adoption room to fill out paper work which I thought was odd. A few minutes after the worker came in and pulled me and three other teenaged boys and girls into the hall, she told us they were looking for someone to be an older sister or brother to their young child. The family came in and looked at us all, then she walked up to me handed me the baby and said meet your baby sister. I was thrilled to be with a new family I just hoped they would keep me.They pulled me into the office and finished filling out the paper. “What is your name” new mom asked me.I looked at her, looked at my new father, and then looked down, I had nothing to say. The worker leaned and whispered to them. My new mom just looked at me and said sorry. What name would you like to have, pick any and we will let you have it forever. When I was given up I didn't have a name, my parents never decided to give me one.
ReplyDelete“Sweet Child, do you dare wonder in the woods alone?”
ReplyDeleteI’d been sitting on the floor of an old beat down cabin for what had seemed like hours. Awaiting the arrival of my kidnapper, who had stepped into the other room to ‘take a call’, I could only imagine what would be in store for me. It was nearing midnight, marking the 12th hour since I had been taken away, and I was almost definite my mother had still not gone out to look for me. Why would she? A daughter without a name, who would have known shed had gone missing, anyways? I mean she wasn’t really my mother, but that still gave her no right to let me grow up without a title, without a name to be called by, without anything to label myself as, or even introduce myself as. And now, as I sit in this cabin, awaiting my death, everything became clear to me. I was never meant to be here, this was how it was supposed to happen. I would be forgotten about within almost hours after the news of my death, if there was any. Who would remember the girl without a name, as anything more than simply that?
There were three friends’ three friends in a restaurant one day. It was already closing time but two of the friends worked in the restaurant, so the boss left them to lock up. But they did not lock up they decided to keep the restaurant open 24 hours. So it got boring because no one was coming so the three friends began talking about scary stories. There were some scary one but there were also one that were not scary at all. However, the last one that came up was the story of the one never to be named. It was not because if you said the name something bad would happen. But because when the never named would come to attack people no one would be able to say the name when they were getting attacked. The name was The Head Banging Basher. Everyone was scared but while they were scared they realized that they needed to throw the thrash out. But the trash container was outside and one of the three friends had to go throw it out. While it was pitch black outside they were scared, finally one maned up and ran outside with the trash. While the other two were inside they heard yelling, “The Head binging Dasher, The The Head slinging Danger.” After that no more…
ReplyDeleteI got two tiny pet turtles as a gift about two years ago. Not only am I completely indecisive but I did not even know what their sexes were so I could not come up with names for them. Several months went by and honestly I had lost much of the enthusiasm of having them but I would still feed them and clean their homemade terrarium. One of them, however, was not growing as much as the other one and it was not eating or doing much at all. Eventually it died and it actually upset me, I put him/her in a cute little gift box and buried it at the park. The other one still lives and I still take care of it but it has remained nameless. Over time, I have come up with several names for it but for some reason in the end I feel like they just aren’t right or they do not go well with it. I decided to just leave it nameless as so much time has passed anyway and because the other one died without a name, I figured it’d only be right. They will remain forever without a name.
ReplyDelete