Thursday, May 6, 2010
Exposed
I have a fear of being forgotten. When I graduate this year, I want people to remember me (and in a good way), not for being a cheerleader, but for being happy and a good friend. Granted I have messed up a lot, but what teenager hasn't? Yes, I haven't kept secrets, yes I have talked about my friends behind their backs, but in the last two years I have been trying to make up for it. But still not doing a great job at it. I want to be remembered for all the activities I have participated in. Cheer has been my life the past two years which I love, but people tend to make fun of cheerleaders. Not only did I have to listen to my friends talk about us behind our backs, but also from our classmates and family. I don't want to speak for my fellow teammates, but my uncle would make fun of me cheering constantly. I don't want to be remembered as an annoying cheerleader, but like i said before, for being a happy person. I want to leave my mark on this place, and since I have not yet, I don't think I ever will. So conquering my fear will have to be postponed.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
NEW STORY
I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in the room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need…” I stopped her before she could say any more.
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t remember her being here at all. Mom figured that we should be going, she didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not think of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look? Muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad you’re back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families wanted to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized not only could I use a friend but she could use a friend too, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad.
I rested my head on the fluffy pillow, and wrapped myself in a soft blanket. All I could think of was the girl and the incident with her at the airport.
“Daddy! Daddy! Please, come back.” The tears were flowing down my face, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse. I was running so hard, my legs were Jell-O. But I kept going, I couldn’t leave him alone, he needed my help. I could no longer see him, he ran away from me so fast.
“Daddy! Where did you go?” I slowed down to a walk, and was gasping for air. Green needles were poking at my fingertips; weeds and grass were crunching below my feet. There was a little bit of sun showing through the trees, and then I spotted him. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms raised as if he was being arrested.
“Daddy. What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me, instead he turned to his right and said, “You will never get it out of me.” I was creeping closer and could see a woman.
“It doesn’t matter, you were just a pawn in my little game.” She had a small voice for such an evil face. She had a scar that ran down her left, she wore no make-up, and looked like she could really use some sleep. She was holding a gun and wasn’t even quivering at the fact she might shoot my dad.
He turned to me then and said gently, “Goodbye my little princess.” He laid back, and fell. I ran to the cliff, dropped to my knees and cried. I could feel my heart sinking; I tried to reach my arm down, as if he could grab it. But all I could do was scream, and watch his body float down, and the hit the bottom.
“Daddy! Daddy! Get up! Get up!” I kept yelling and sobbing.
Beep! Beep! Beep! I was gasping for air, and tears were still dripping down my cheeks. I looked all around me making sure I was still in my bed. After realizing that I was in my house, I decided it was time to get ready for school. I could not eat, I could barely talk. The dreams were progressing; last night was the first time I saw him die. It felt like he died all over again. I didn’t know what to think of it, they were really getting to me. What was I to make of these dreams? Were they trying to tell me something? I kept stirring my spoon in the full bowl of soggy cereal. I heard the bus honking, and snapped out of it. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to tell my mom I love her.
“Hey Lucy!”
“Hi Susan.” What was she going to find to brag about today?
“So, I’m going to the salon later today, you want to come?” What was she doing? She isn’t usually like this. Susan was the friend that fixed things by spending money.
“What’s in it for you?” I asked her, there has to be some reason.
“Well, I just figured you could use a relaxing day.”
“Um, no thanks, I’m okay.” The rest of the bus ride was filled with awkward talking. She didn’t really know what to say to me and I didn’t put up much effort to talk back. Getting off the bus, I could hear my feet tapping the cement, hurrying to get out of the cold. The doors were so heavy; I practically had to pull my body backwards to get it to open. Walking down the hall I could hear that there was a new buzz. My high school was small; I had about 70 kids in my grade. Word got around fast, and there was no such thing as a personal bubble. Today’s buzz was that there was a new girl in my junior class.
“Gee, she must be really hot. Even the jocks are squealing over her.” To Susan this was bad; it meant another girl to compete with. I smiled at her and headed down to English. I pulled out my homework assignment, and laid my cheek on my hand. My hair was covering half my face, and I began to doodle. The bell rang 3 times and everyone quieted down.
“Everyone, listen up. We have a new student.”
“Trust me, we know!” Kevin, the hunky quarterback, had to start making a pass already. Mr. Sanders told her to introduce herself and then take a seat in an empty desk.
“Hi everyone, my name is Carrie.” I thought to myself, that’s funny, she even sounds like the Carrie I met at the airport. It couldn’t, I looked up and it was. You have got to be kidding me. Of course she took the empty seat next to me.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” I whispered to her, as Mr. Sanders was getting a book for her.
“No, we moved to be closer to the gym.” I rolled my eyes, and went back to my usual position of being invisible. Somehow I ended up having four classes with Carrie, and in each she attempted to talk to me.
Heading down to lunch, people were still marveling over her. Getting a new student was like sliced bread, the new best thing. I got in line for lunch, at least its spaghetti, and not something they try to disguise as meat. I sat down, by Susan, and there she was. Everyone turned to stare, except me. I buried my face underneath my hair, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
It was no use, “Hi Lucy!” and there was the annoying peppy voice.
“Hi.” I was hoping she would have gotten the hint by now.
“Can I sit with you?”
“It’s kind of packed, I’ll try to save you a seat tomorrow.” Great job Lucy.
“Um. There’s only four of you at the table.” Way to count smarty pants.
“Go ahead, you can sit by me.” John motioned for her to sit by him, of course even the Goth boy wants a piece of miss awesome.
“Awe. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Wow. John can smile? I gave him a death glare, and he didn’t notice. He was so focused on watching her walk to take a seat next to him.
“So, this lunch room, is, well, nice.” We all laughed, that was funny. Green beans still stuck on the ceiling from eighth grade, it definitely wasn’t made for tall people, and I’ve seen classrooms bigger than our lunchroom. Yeah, it’s real nice. The rest of lunch, I stayed out of conversation, and practically ran for the doors when they dismissed us. The rest of my classes were all a blur, I couldn’t focus, and none of the teacher’s was angry with me. They were taking it easy on me as some would say. Finally the bell rang in 8th period, and everyone bolted out the doors like ants. I sat in the lobby waiting for my mom to pick me up. Today was McDonald Monday, the amazing celebration of getting fat started when my father would try to cook a meal on Mondays, and they all ended up in complete disaster. To keep us from eating burnt food, my mom would suggest McDonalds.
“Lucy look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I just want to be friends with you.” She was standing in front of me, and she looked almost as if she were going to cry.
“Carrie, I’ve already told you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you to be friends with me out of sympathy.”
“It’s not out of sympathy. I need a friend, I don’t have anybody.” She looked down at her feet; she was really ashamed of it.
“Why do need me? Everyone in this school wants to be friends with you.”
“But none of them understand.” Tears started to swell up in her eyes and I could tell something was really bothering her.
“Understand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What was this loony thinking?
“To not have a dad. Mine doesn’t even notice me, he only notices my trophies.”
“At least you have a dad!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She is so selfish, I would give anything to have a father who cared about what I do with my life, and here she is, wanting him to butt out. Now tears were running down my face, gosh she’s like a tumor! She never goes away.
“Never mind, you don’t understand.” She said sternly, turned around and walked out the front door.
Gah! I don’t like being mean, it’s a waste of energy. But sometimes I just see certain people that make me want to hurl. She is one of those people. McDonald Monday was a bust. First Carrie decided to butt back into my life, and mom is so depressed that we couldn’t enjoy the gourmet double cheeseburgers. This time instead of a boring ride home, something changed that night. As soon as we hit the interstate to head back home, my mom started wailing on the steering wheel, and crying hysterically. I was so shocked all I could do was look like at her like she was mentally ill. She was ranting things, why him, he didn’t deserve it; he was just taking orders! I was in such awe all I could still do was stare at her. The car behind us was honking, probably because my mom couldn’t stay in one lane. What is going through her head? Is she trying to kill us?
“Mom! Pull over!’ I yelled at her, trying to overpower her rampage. She finally realized she was going mad and decided to pull over on the side of the interstate. I got out and opened her door, she looked at me dumbfounded and I motioned for her to crawl over to the passenger seat.
“Do you have your license with you?”
“Really? Who’s the more fit to drive?” She knew I was right and stayed quiet the rest of the way home.
Finally home, we put our shoes and coats in the closet.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened in that car?” For the first time, I felt like the adult.
“You shouldn’t have heard that, I’m so sorry dear.”
I hugged my mom, and we cried together that night. We held each other close and fell asleep on the leather couch.
I woke to a neck cramp and a sweaty back the next morning. Finally, its Saturday, I thought to myself, no more Carrie was always a plus. Today I figured a visit to the grave sight would do some good. I needed to have a talk with my dad.
“Mom, can we go to the cemetery today?” She stopped turning the bacon, rested her hands on the counter, and stared out the window. She does that a lot lately, waiting for her dead love to return to her.
“Well? Can we?”
“I don’t think that that’s a good idea.” I didn’t understand why she was being so hostile.
“But mom, I miss him and I want to talk to him.”
“Go ahead dear.” I didn’t dwell on her harshness, she said I could go, and that’s all I asked for. I grabbed a plate full of bacon and scrambled eggs and headed to my bedroom. I figure what’s the point in sitting at the table, when were not a family anymore. My mom was lost and confused. One night she is sobbing over dad, and the next day she wants nothing to do with his memory. But I guess that’s what a broken heart does; it breaks you down until you have nothing left. Although she has me and my love, it can never replace the emptiness left by my dads passing. I finished eating, turned my television off and grabbed my jacket. I put my plate and cup in the dishwasher, and sure enough, to my left, mom was still sitting at the table staring out the window.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” She didn’t answer me; instead she kept gazing out at the driveway. I took that as a no, so I grabbed the keys and left her. I felt guilty for leaving her, but I’m not going to let dad rot alone. Ironic isn’t it, he is rotting away below the earth, and I feel like I need to keep him company.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need…” I stopped her before she could say any more.
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t remember her being here at all. Mom figured that we should be going, she didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not think of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look? Muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad you’re back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families wanted to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized not only could I use a friend but she could use a friend too, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad.
I rested my head on the fluffy pillow, and wrapped myself in a soft blanket. All I could think of was the girl and the incident with her at the airport.
“Daddy! Daddy! Please, come back.” The tears were flowing down my face, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse. I was running so hard, my legs were Jell-O. But I kept going, I couldn’t leave him alone, he needed my help. I could no longer see him, he ran away from me so fast.
“Daddy! Where did you go?” I slowed down to a walk, and was gasping for air. Green needles were poking at my fingertips; weeds and grass were crunching below my feet. There was a little bit of sun showing through the trees, and then I spotted him. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms raised as if he was being arrested.
“Daddy. What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me, instead he turned to his right and said, “You will never get it out of me.” I was creeping closer and could see a woman.
“It doesn’t matter, you were just a pawn in my little game.” She had a small voice for such an evil face. She had a scar that ran down her left, she wore no make-up, and looked like she could really use some sleep. She was holding a gun and wasn’t even quivering at the fact she might shoot my dad.
He turned to me then and said gently, “Goodbye my little princess.” He laid back, and fell. I ran to the cliff, dropped to my knees and cried. I could feel my heart sinking; I tried to reach my arm down, as if he could grab it. But all I could do was scream, and watch his body float down, and the hit the bottom.
“Daddy! Daddy! Get up! Get up!” I kept yelling and sobbing.
Beep! Beep! Beep! I was gasping for air, and tears were still dripping down my cheeks. I looked all around me making sure I was still in my bed. After realizing that I was in my house, I decided it was time to get ready for school. I could not eat, I could barely talk. The dreams were progressing; last night was the first time I saw him die. It felt like he died all over again. I didn’t know what to think of it, they were really getting to me. What was I to make of these dreams? Were they trying to tell me something? I kept stirring my spoon in the full bowl of soggy cereal. I heard the bus honking, and snapped out of it. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to tell my mom I love her.
“Hey Lucy!”
“Hi Susan.” What was she going to find to brag about today?
“So, I’m going to the salon later today, you want to come?” What was she doing? She isn’t usually like this. Susan was the friend that fixed things by spending money.
“What’s in it for you?” I asked her, there has to be some reason.
“Well, I just figured you could use a relaxing day.”
“Um, no thanks, I’m okay.” The rest of the bus ride was filled with awkward talking. She didn’t really know what to say to me and I didn’t put up much effort to talk back. Getting off the bus, I could hear my feet tapping the cement, hurrying to get out of the cold. The doors were so heavy; I practically had to pull my body backwards to get it to open. Walking down the hall I could hear that there was a new buzz. My high school was small; I had about 70 kids in my grade. Word got around fast, and there was no such thing as a personal bubble. Today’s buzz was that there was a new girl in my junior class.
“Gee, she must be really hot. Even the jocks are squealing over her.” To Susan this was bad; it meant another girl to compete with. I smiled at her and headed down to English. I pulled out my homework assignment, and laid my cheek on my hand. My hair was covering half my face, and I began to doodle. The bell rang 3 times and everyone quieted down.
“Everyone, listen up. We have a new student.”
“Trust me, we know!” Kevin, the hunky quarterback, had to start making a pass already. Mr. Sanders told her to introduce herself and then take a seat in an empty desk.
“Hi everyone, my name is Carrie.” I thought to myself, that’s funny, she even sounds like the Carrie I met at the airport. It couldn’t, I looked up and it was. You have got to be kidding me. Of course she took the empty seat next to me.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” I whispered to her, as Mr. Sanders was getting a book for her.
“No, we moved to be closer to the gym.” I rolled my eyes, and went back to my usual position of being invisible. Somehow I ended up having four classes with Carrie, and in each she attempted to talk to me.
Heading down to lunch, people were still marveling over her. Getting a new student was like sliced bread, the new best thing. I got in line for lunch, at least its spaghetti, and not something they try to disguise as meat. I sat down, by Susan, and there she was. Everyone turned to stare, except me. I buried my face underneath my hair, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
It was no use, “Hi Lucy!” and there was the annoying peppy voice.
“Hi.” I was hoping she would have gotten the hint by now.
“Can I sit with you?”
“It’s kind of packed, I’ll try to save you a seat tomorrow.” Great job Lucy.
“Um. There’s only four of you at the table.” Way to count smarty pants.
“Go ahead, you can sit by me.” John motioned for her to sit by him, of course even the Goth boy wants a piece of miss awesome.
“Awe. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Wow. John can smile? I gave him a death glare, and he didn’t notice. He was so focused on watching her walk to take a seat next to him.
“So, this lunch room, is, well, nice.” We all laughed, that was funny. Green beans still stuck on the ceiling from eighth grade, it definitely wasn’t made for tall people, and I’ve seen classrooms bigger than our lunchroom. Yeah, it’s real nice. The rest of lunch, I stayed out of conversation, and practically ran for the doors when they dismissed us. The rest of my classes were all a blur, I couldn’t focus, and none of the teacher’s was angry with me. They were taking it easy on me as some would say. Finally the bell rang in 8th period, and everyone bolted out the doors like ants. I sat in the lobby waiting for my mom to pick me up. Today was McDonald Monday, the amazing celebration of getting fat started when my father would try to cook a meal on Mondays, and they all ended up in complete disaster. To keep us from eating burnt food, my mom would suggest McDonalds.
“Lucy look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I just want to be friends with you.” She was standing in front of me, and she looked almost as if she were going to cry.
“Carrie, I’ve already told you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you to be friends with me out of sympathy.”
“It’s not out of sympathy. I need a friend, I don’t have anybody.” She looked down at her feet; she was really ashamed of it.
“Why do need me? Everyone in this school wants to be friends with you.”
“But none of them understand.” Tears started to swell up in her eyes and I could tell something was really bothering her.
“Understand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What was this loony thinking?
“To not have a dad. Mine doesn’t even notice me, he only notices my trophies.”
“At least you have a dad!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She is so selfish, I would give anything to have a father who cared about what I do with my life, and here she is, wanting him to butt out. Now tears were running down my face, gosh she’s like a tumor! She never goes away.
“Never mind, you don’t understand.” She said sternly, turned around and walked out the front door.
Gah! I don’t like being mean, it’s a waste of energy. But sometimes I just see certain people that make me want to hurl. She is one of those people. McDonald Monday was a bust. First Carrie decided to butt back into my life, and mom is so depressed that we couldn’t enjoy the gourmet double cheeseburgers. This time instead of a boring ride home, something changed that night. As soon as we hit the interstate to head back home, my mom started wailing on the steering wheel, and crying hysterically. I was so shocked all I could do was look like at her like she was mentally ill. She was ranting things, why him, he didn’t deserve it; he was just taking orders! I was in such awe all I could still do was stare at her. The car behind us was honking, probably because my mom couldn’t stay in one lane. What is going through her head? Is she trying to kill us?
“Mom! Pull over!’ I yelled at her, trying to overpower her rampage. She finally realized she was going mad and decided to pull over on the side of the interstate. I got out and opened her door, she looked at me dumbfounded and I motioned for her to crawl over to the passenger seat.
“Do you have your license with you?”
“Really? Who’s the more fit to drive?” She knew I was right and stayed quiet the rest of the way home.
Finally home, we put our shoes and coats in the closet.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened in that car?” For the first time, I felt like the adult.
“You shouldn’t have heard that, I’m so sorry dear.”
I hugged my mom, and we cried together that night. We held each other close and fell asleep on the leather couch.
I woke to a neck cramp and a sweaty back the next morning. Finally, its Saturday, I thought to myself, no more Carrie was always a plus. Today I figured a visit to the grave sight would do some good. I needed to have a talk with my dad.
“Mom, can we go to the cemetery today?” She stopped turning the bacon, rested her hands on the counter, and stared out the window. She does that a lot lately, waiting for her dead love to return to her.
“Well? Can we?”
“I don’t think that that’s a good idea.” I didn’t understand why she was being so hostile.
“But mom, I miss him and I want to talk to him.”
“Go ahead dear.” I didn’t dwell on her harshness, she said I could go, and that’s all I asked for. I grabbed a plate full of bacon and scrambled eggs and headed to my bedroom. I figure what’s the point in sitting at the table, when were not a family anymore. My mom was lost and confused. One night she is sobbing over dad, and the next day she wants nothing to do with his memory. But I guess that’s what a broken heart does; it breaks you down until you have nothing left. Although she has me and my love, it can never replace the emptiness left by my dads passing. I finished eating, turned my television off and grabbed my jacket. I put my plate and cup in the dishwasher, and sure enough, to my left, mom was still sitting at the table staring out the window.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” She didn’t answer me; instead she kept gazing out at the driveway. I took that as a no, so I grabbed the keys and left her. I felt guilty for leaving her, but I’m not going to let dad rot alone. Ironic isn’t it, he is rotting away below the earth, and I feel like I need to keep him company.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Tiger Woods:)
Want her
Got to have her
Been with her
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Smile for the camera
Wave to the hot pool girl
Check the watch
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
1 hour til’ she arrives
Grab the hot pool girl
Run into the closet
Forgot Elin
Forgot Elin
Call wife
She’s almost here
Give hot cashier number
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Say hello to wife
Swing at the ball
Drive home
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Call hot cashier
Sneak out
Show cashier good time
Forgot Elin
Forgot Elin
Got to have her
Been with her
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Smile for the camera
Wave to the hot pool girl
Check the watch
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
1 hour til’ she arrives
Grab the hot pool girl
Run into the closet
Forgot Elin
Forgot Elin
Call wife
She’s almost here
Give hot cashier number
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Say hello to wife
Swing at the ball
Drive home
Remember Elin
Remember Elin
Call hot cashier
Sneak out
Show cashier good time
Forgot Elin
Forgot Elin
Reduce*Reuse*Recycle
The prettiest of lakes
Turned scummy
The greenest of trees
Turned brown
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
The abundance of fish
Turned missing
The fields of flowers
Turned lifeless
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
The animals
Turned homeless
The human’s hearts
Turned cold
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
Turned scummy
The greenest of trees
Turned brown
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
The abundance of fish
Turned missing
The fields of flowers
Turned lifeless
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
The animals
Turned homeless
The human’s hearts
Turned cold
Reduce
Reuse
Recycle
Friday, April 9, 2010
SANITY
“My name is Gloria, and I fantasize about killing people.” They all looked at me like I was the crazy one, when I was the sanest out of all of them. There was a woman sitting to my left who was petting a cat, only pets aren’t allowed here. To my right was a man who thought he was on the moon. Everyone here was a little crazy. But there was one boy, who sat across from me, he looks pretty normal. But then again, what is normal. The game of break the ice finally got to him, “Hi my name is Chad, and I threatened to kill my teacher.” Well, looks like were in the same boat. He weighed the same as I did, but I knew with the right moves, I could take him. His squealing wouldn’t take long, and soon enough his body would be still. Feeling it pierce his soft, flexible skin would put me in frenzy. I snapped out of it and found myself licking my lips and glaring in his direction. He was looking down at his feet, and playing with his hands. Great, I scared the crap out of the one person who had a piece of sanity left.
The rest of the day consisted of staring out at the empty street. Screams and mumbles of death could be heard, and hustling of doctors to calm them down. They say fear gets the best of people. They lie. Darkness gets the best of people. I thought it was loud during the day, but when the moon shines it only gets worse. Earplugs can’t drain out their cries, but it’s a mental hospital, what do you expect.
“T-t-t-t-today I have decided that L-l-l-Lincoln is still alive. They are hiding him in the A-a-a-a-alps.”
“Larry, yesterday it was that the government is harboring aliens. Now dead president Lincoln is in the Alps.” What was the point in group therapy? All it did was allow people to share their new discoveries, and others to challenge them.
“I’m serious this time! Barney told me last night.” It’s really pitiful; he believes with all his heart that a purple dinosaur knows government secrets.
“Gloria, have you found out anything about yourself?”
“Yes sir I have”, with a smile upon my face, being sure to pronounce every sound, “ if I could have 5 seconds alone with any living creature, I would love to watch it die in acid. Hearing it squeal and look at me with such pain and discouragement…this is my new fantasy.” Once again I was in frenzy, I was bent forward with my hands under my legs being sure not to attack Larry sitting next to me. The doctor didn’t know what to say, he just kind of stared at me blankly with a look of horror on his face.
“Why do you have to do that?” The boy stood towards me then, he was pointing his finger at me.
“Put your finger away child. The doc asked, and I answered.”
“Can’t you see they have”, his voice squeaked, and I couldn’t help but giggle. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Can’t you see they have trouble sleeping as it is?” He had sweat dripping from his blonde short hair into his deep green eyes, and his small knees were shaking.
“Alright, well I think that is enough for today.” Chad then helped the cat lady walk over to her spot by the window. No one ever really had talked to me like that, probably because they were so scared of me.
“Hey kid.”
“I’m 13, stop calling me kid and child.”
“But you are a child.”
“And you’re a bully, but do I call you that? No.” I admired him, he was feisty.
The rest of the day consisted of staring out at the empty street. Screams and mumbles of death could be heard, and hustling of doctors to calm them down. They say fear gets the best of people. They lie. Darkness gets the best of people. I thought it was loud during the day, but when the moon shines it only gets worse. Earplugs can’t drain out their cries, but it’s a mental hospital, what do you expect.
“T-t-t-t-today I have decided that L-l-l-Lincoln is still alive. They are hiding him in the A-a-a-a-alps.”
“Larry, yesterday it was that the government is harboring aliens. Now dead president Lincoln is in the Alps.” What was the point in group therapy? All it did was allow people to share their new discoveries, and others to challenge them.
“I’m serious this time! Barney told me last night.” It’s really pitiful; he believes with all his heart that a purple dinosaur knows government secrets.
“Gloria, have you found out anything about yourself?”
“Yes sir I have”, with a smile upon my face, being sure to pronounce every sound, “ if I could have 5 seconds alone with any living creature, I would love to watch it die in acid. Hearing it squeal and look at me with such pain and discouragement…this is my new fantasy.” Once again I was in frenzy, I was bent forward with my hands under my legs being sure not to attack Larry sitting next to me. The doctor didn’t know what to say, he just kind of stared at me blankly with a look of horror on his face.
“Why do you have to do that?” The boy stood towards me then, he was pointing his finger at me.
“Put your finger away child. The doc asked, and I answered.”
“Can’t you see they have”, his voice squeaked, and I couldn’t help but giggle. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Can’t you see they have trouble sleeping as it is?” He had sweat dripping from his blonde short hair into his deep green eyes, and his small knees were shaking.
“Alright, well I think that is enough for today.” Chad then helped the cat lady walk over to her spot by the window. No one ever really had talked to me like that, probably because they were so scared of me.
“Hey kid.”
“I’m 13, stop calling me kid and child.”
“But you are a child.”
“And you’re a bully, but do I call you that? No.” I admired him, he was feisty.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
What to do?
I have so many options for college. I had advice given to me about going to a community college. He said that students going to a community college has a higher chance of dropping out. And that if you go to a "lower" educated school that you will set your standards to the ones around you. Not trying to say that people who go to a community college are dumber, but that sometimes the standards are set lower than a University. I don't want to go to a community college and then go to UNI and not know what is going on. But my ACT's are to low to start at UNI. So, I might go to Central College in Pella, just to make sure that my personal standards will be high for myself. I feel that if I go to a community college my personal standards will lower. I want to stay in the Cedar Falls area so I can get to know it before I go to UNI, but I am concerned that I will not be prepared.
Monday, March 22, 2010
College
So for college I want to go to UNI all four years. But I am scared to leave home, it is 2 hours away from where I live. Or I can go to Central in Pella, or Dmacc, or Hawkeye comm. I don't know what to do and I am scared to death.
Monday, March 1, 2010
What I have accomplished
Being in a PLN class we are suppose to find connections with people with the same interests as us. Others in my class have had luck doing this, but I have not. I have had no discussions or anything with other people. I have followed and tweeted and yet, no luck. Maybe I should try harder, but I just don't really know what to do in a sense.
Friday, February 26, 2010
School Work
So lately I have been a slacker when it has come to chemistry. I usually get an A, but lately I have had a B-. And the thing is is that I really haven't been caring. I have missed so much class time and don't understand that I have given up. How do I get back in the game and care again? I don't know and right now I could really care less.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
New and Improved
I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in the room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like being in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need…” I stopped her before she could say any more.
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. Mom figured that we should be going, she didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not think of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look? Muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad you’re back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, and I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families were wanting to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized she could use a friend, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad. This person would be peppy me!
I rested my head on the fluffy pillow, and wrapped myself in a soft blanket. All I could think of was the girl and the incident with her at the airport.
“Daddy! Daddy! Please, come back.” The tears were flowing down my face, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse. I was running so hard, my legs were Jell-O. But I kept going, I couldn’t leave him alone, he needed my help. I could no longer see him, he ran away from me so fast.
“Daddy! Where did you go?” I slowed down to a walk, and was gasping for air. Green needles were poking at my fingertips; weeds and grass were crunching below my feet. There was a little bit of sun showing through the trees, and then I spotted him. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms raised as if he was being arrested.
“Daddy. What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me, instead he turned to his right and said, “You will never get it out of me.” I was creeping closer and could see the woman.
“It doesn’t matter, you were just a pawn in my little game.” She had a small voice for such an evil face. She had a scar that ran down her left, she wore no make-up, and looked like she could really use some sleep. She was holding a gun and wasn’t even quivering at the fact she might shoot my dad.
He turned to me then and said gently, “Goodbye my little princess.” He laid back, and fell. I ran to the cliff, dropped to my knees and cried. I could feel my heart sinking; I tried to reach my arm down, as if he could grab it. But all I could do was scream, and watch his body float down, and the hit the bottom.
“Daddy! Daddy! Get up! Get up!” I kept yelling and sobbing.
Beep! Beep! Beep! I was gasping for air, and tears were still dripping down my cheeks. I looked all around me making sure I was still in my bed. After realizing that I was in my house, I decided it was time to get ready for school. I could not eat, I could barely talk. The dreams were progressing; last night was the first time I saw him die. I felt like I experienced him dying all over again. I didn’t know what to think of it, they were really getting to me. What was I to make of these dreams? Were they trying to tell me something? I kept stirring my spoon in the full bowl of cereal. I heard the bus honking, and snapped out of it. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to tell my mom I love her.
“Hey Lucy!”
“Hi Susan.” What was she going to find to brag about today?
“So, I’m going to the salon later today, you want to come?” What was she doing? She isn’t usually like this.
“What’s in it for you?” I asked her, there has to be some reason.
“Well, I just figured you could use a relaxing day.”
“Um, no thanks, I’m okay.” The rest of the bus ride was filled with awkward talking. She didn’t really know what to say to me and I didn’t put up much effort to talk back. Getting off the bus, I could hear my feet tapping the cement, hurrying to get out of the cold. The doors were so heavy; I practically had to pull my body backwards to get it to open. Walking down the hall I could hear that there was a new buzz. My high school was small; I had about 70 kids in my grade. Word got around fast, and there was no such thing as a personal bubble. Today’s buzz was that there was a new kid in my junior class.
“Gee, she must be really hot. Even the jocks are squealing over her.” To Susan this was bad; it meant another girl to compete with. I smiled at her and headed down to English. I pulled out my homework assignment, and laid my cheek on my hand. My hair was covering half my face, and I began to doodle. The bell rang 3 times and everyone quieted down.
“Everyone, listen up. We have a new student.”
“Trust me, we know!” Kevin, the hunky quarterback, had to start making a pass already. Mr. Sanders told her to introduce herself and then take a seat in an empty desk.
“Hi everyone, my name is Carrie.” I thought to myself, that’s funny, she even sounds like the Carrie I met at the airport. It couldn’t, I looked up and it was. You have got to be kidding me. Of course she took the empty seat next to me.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” I whispered to her, as Mr. Sanders was getting a book for her.
“No, we moved to be closer to the gym.” I rolled my eyes, and went back to my usual position of being invisible. Somehow I ended up having four classes with Carrie, and in each she attempted to talk to me.
Heading down to lunch, people were still marveling over her. Getting a new student was like sliced bread, the new best thing. I got in line for lunch, at least its spaghetti, and not something they try to disguise as meat. I sat down, by Susan, and there she was. Everyone turned to stare, except me. I buried my face underneath my hair, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
But she did, “Hi Lucy!” and there was the annoying peppy voice.
“Hi.” I was hoping she would have gotten the hint by now.
“Can I sit with you?”
“It’s kind of packed, I’ll try to save you a seat tomorrow.” Great job Lucy.
“Um. There’s only four of you at the table.” Way to count smarty pants.
“Go ahead, you can sit by me.” John motioned for her to sit by him, of course even the Goth boy wants a piece of miss awesome.
“Awe. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Wow. John can smile? I gave him a death glare, and he didn’t notice. He was so focused on watching her walk to take a seat next to him.
“So, this lunch room, is, well, nice.” We all laughed, that was funny. Green beans still stuck on the ceiling from eighth grade, it definitely wasn’t made for tall people, and I’ve seen classrooms bigger than our lunchroom. Yeah, it’s real nice. The rest of lunch, I stayed out of conversation, and practically ran for the doors when they dismissed us. The rest of my classes were all a blur, I couldn’t focus, and none of the teacher’s was angry with me. They were taking it easy on me as some would say. Finally the bell rang in 8th period, and everyone bolted out the doors like ants. I sat in the lobby waiting for my mom to pick me up. Today was McDonald Monday, the amazing celebration of getting fat started when my father would try to cook a meal on Mondays, and they all ended up in complete disaster. To keep us from eating burnt food, my mom would suggest McDonalds.
“Lucy look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I just want to be friends with you.” She was standing in front of me, and she looked almost as if she were going to cry.
“Carrie, I’ve already told you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you to be friends with me out of sympathy.”
“It’s not out of sympathy. I need a friend, I don’t have anybody.” She looked down at her feet; she was really ashamed of it.
“Why do need me? Everyone in this school wants to be friends with you.”
“But none of them understand.” Tears started to swell up in her eyes and I could tell something was really bothering her.
“Understand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What was this loony thinking?
“To not have a dad. Mine doesn’t even notice me, he only notices my trophies.”
“At least you have a dad who is alive!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She is so selfish, I would give anything to have a father who cared about what I do with my life, and here she is, wanting him to butt out. ,Now tears were running down my face, gosh she’s like a tumor! She never goes away.
“Never mind, you don’t understand.” She said sternly, turned around and walked out the front door.
Gah! I don’t like being mean, it’s a waste of energy. But sometimes I just see certain people that make me want to hurl. She is one of those people. McDonald Monday was a bust. First Carrie decided to butt back into my life, and mom is so depressed that we couldn’t enjoy the gourmet double cheeseburgers. This time instead of a boring ride home, something changed that night. As soon as we hit the interstate to head back home, my mom started wailing on the steering wheel, and was crying hysterically. I was so shocked all I could do was look like at her like she was mentally ill. She was ranting things, why him, he didn’t deserve it; he wasn’t even supposed to be there! I was in such awe all I could still do was stare at her. The car behind us was honking, probably because my mom couldn’t stay in one lane. What is going through her head? Is she trying to kill us?
“Mom! Pull over!’ I yelled at her, trying to overpower her rampage. She finally realized she was going mad and decided to pull over on the side of the interstate. I got out and opened her door, she looked at me dumbfounded and I motioned for her to crawl over to the passenger seat.
“Do you have your license with you?”
“Really? Who’s the more fit person to drive?” She knew I was right and stayed quite the rest of the way home.
Finally home, we put our shoes and coats in the closet.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened in that car?” For the first time, I felt like the adult.
“You shouldn’t have heard that, I’m so sorry dear.”
“Mom, tell me.”
“Well, your father wasn’t supposed to be on that tour. Dani was instead.”
“Who’s Dani?”
“Carrie’s mother.” Ahh, I knew I didn’t like Carrie for some reason. “Dani got sick before the tour and couldn’t go, so your dad had to go in her place.”
“Oh.” I am an awful person.
“That’s why Carrie needs you because she didn’t lose her father, she lost her mother.” So that’s why I would understand, we share the same pain. I hugged my mom, and we both cried together that night. We held each other and fell asleep on the leather couch.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need…” I stopped her before she could say any more.
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. Mom figured that we should be going, she didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not think of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look? Muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad you’re back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, and I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families were wanting to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized she could use a friend, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad. This person would be peppy me!
I rested my head on the fluffy pillow, and wrapped myself in a soft blanket. All I could think of was the girl and the incident with her at the airport.
“Daddy! Daddy! Please, come back.” The tears were flowing down my face, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse. I was running so hard, my legs were Jell-O. But I kept going, I couldn’t leave him alone, he needed my help. I could no longer see him, he ran away from me so fast.
“Daddy! Where did you go?” I slowed down to a walk, and was gasping for air. Green needles were poking at my fingertips; weeds and grass were crunching below my feet. There was a little bit of sun showing through the trees, and then I spotted him. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, arms raised as if he was being arrested.
“Daddy. What are you doing?” He didn’t look at me, instead he turned to his right and said, “You will never get it out of me.” I was creeping closer and could see the woman.
“It doesn’t matter, you were just a pawn in my little game.” She had a small voice for such an evil face. She had a scar that ran down her left, she wore no make-up, and looked like she could really use some sleep. She was holding a gun and wasn’t even quivering at the fact she might shoot my dad.
He turned to me then and said gently, “Goodbye my little princess.” He laid back, and fell. I ran to the cliff, dropped to my knees and cried. I could feel my heart sinking; I tried to reach my arm down, as if he could grab it. But all I could do was scream, and watch his body float down, and the hit the bottom.
“Daddy! Daddy! Get up! Get up!” I kept yelling and sobbing.
Beep! Beep! Beep! I was gasping for air, and tears were still dripping down my cheeks. I looked all around me making sure I was still in my bed. After realizing that I was in my house, I decided it was time to get ready for school. I could not eat, I could barely talk. The dreams were progressing; last night was the first time I saw him die. I felt like I experienced him dying all over again. I didn’t know what to think of it, they were really getting to me. What was I to make of these dreams? Were they trying to tell me something? I kept stirring my spoon in the full bowl of cereal. I heard the bus honking, and snapped out of it. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. Making sure to tell my mom I love her.
“Hey Lucy!”
“Hi Susan.” What was she going to find to brag about today?
“So, I’m going to the salon later today, you want to come?” What was she doing? She isn’t usually like this.
“What’s in it for you?” I asked her, there has to be some reason.
“Well, I just figured you could use a relaxing day.”
“Um, no thanks, I’m okay.” The rest of the bus ride was filled with awkward talking. She didn’t really know what to say to me and I didn’t put up much effort to talk back. Getting off the bus, I could hear my feet tapping the cement, hurrying to get out of the cold. The doors were so heavy; I practically had to pull my body backwards to get it to open. Walking down the hall I could hear that there was a new buzz. My high school was small; I had about 70 kids in my grade. Word got around fast, and there was no such thing as a personal bubble. Today’s buzz was that there was a new kid in my junior class.
“Gee, she must be really hot. Even the jocks are squealing over her.” To Susan this was bad; it meant another girl to compete with. I smiled at her and headed down to English. I pulled out my homework assignment, and laid my cheek on my hand. My hair was covering half my face, and I began to doodle. The bell rang 3 times and everyone quieted down.
“Everyone, listen up. We have a new student.”
“Trust me, we know!” Kevin, the hunky quarterback, had to start making a pass already. Mr. Sanders told her to introduce herself and then take a seat in an empty desk.
“Hi everyone, my name is Carrie.” I thought to myself, that’s funny, she even sounds like the Carrie I met at the airport. It couldn’t, I looked up and it was. You have got to be kidding me. Of course she took the empty seat next to me.
“What? Are you stalking me now?” I whispered to her, as Mr. Sanders was getting a book for her.
“No, we moved to be closer to the gym.” I rolled my eyes, and went back to my usual position of being invisible. Somehow I ended up having four classes with Carrie, and in each she attempted to talk to me.
Heading down to lunch, people were still marveling over her. Getting a new student was like sliced bread, the new best thing. I got in line for lunch, at least its spaghetti, and not something they try to disguise as meat. I sat down, by Susan, and there she was. Everyone turned to stare, except me. I buried my face underneath my hair, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
But she did, “Hi Lucy!” and there was the annoying peppy voice.
“Hi.” I was hoping she would have gotten the hint by now.
“Can I sit with you?”
“It’s kind of packed, I’ll try to save you a seat tomorrow.” Great job Lucy.
“Um. There’s only four of you at the table.” Way to count smarty pants.
“Go ahead, you can sit by me.” John motioned for her to sit by him, of course even the Goth boy wants a piece of miss awesome.
“Awe. Thanks!”
“No problem.” Wow. John can smile? I gave him a death glare, and he didn’t notice. He was so focused on watching her walk to take a seat next to him.
“So, this lunch room, is, well, nice.” We all laughed, that was funny. Green beans still stuck on the ceiling from eighth grade, it definitely wasn’t made for tall people, and I’ve seen classrooms bigger than our lunchroom. Yeah, it’s real nice. The rest of lunch, I stayed out of conversation, and practically ran for the doors when they dismissed us. The rest of my classes were all a blur, I couldn’t focus, and none of the teacher’s was angry with me. They were taking it easy on me as some would say. Finally the bell rang in 8th period, and everyone bolted out the doors like ants. I sat in the lobby waiting for my mom to pick me up. Today was McDonald Monday, the amazing celebration of getting fat started when my father would try to cook a meal on Mondays, and they all ended up in complete disaster. To keep us from eating burnt food, my mom would suggest McDonalds.
“Lucy look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I just want to be friends with you.” She was standing in front of me, and she looked almost as if she were going to cry.
“Carrie, I’ve already told you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you to be friends with me out of sympathy.”
“It’s not out of sympathy. I need a friend, I don’t have anybody.” She looked down at her feet; she was really ashamed of it.
“Why do need me? Everyone in this school wants to be friends with you.”
“But none of them understand.” Tears started to swell up in her eyes and I could tell something was really bothering her.
“Understand what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What was this loony thinking?
“To not have a dad. Mine doesn’t even notice me, he only notices my trophies.”
“At least you have a dad who is alive!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. She is so selfish, I would give anything to have a father who cared about what I do with my life, and here she is, wanting him to butt out. ,Now tears were running down my face, gosh she’s like a tumor! She never goes away.
“Never mind, you don’t understand.” She said sternly, turned around and walked out the front door.
Gah! I don’t like being mean, it’s a waste of energy. But sometimes I just see certain people that make me want to hurl. She is one of those people. McDonald Monday was a bust. First Carrie decided to butt back into my life, and mom is so depressed that we couldn’t enjoy the gourmet double cheeseburgers. This time instead of a boring ride home, something changed that night. As soon as we hit the interstate to head back home, my mom started wailing on the steering wheel, and was crying hysterically. I was so shocked all I could do was look like at her like she was mentally ill. She was ranting things, why him, he didn’t deserve it; he wasn’t even supposed to be there! I was in such awe all I could still do was stare at her. The car behind us was honking, probably because my mom couldn’t stay in one lane. What is going through her head? Is she trying to kill us?
“Mom! Pull over!’ I yelled at her, trying to overpower her rampage. She finally realized she was going mad and decided to pull over on the side of the interstate. I got out and opened her door, she looked at me dumbfounded and I motioned for her to crawl over to the passenger seat.
“Do you have your license with you?”
“Really? Who’s the more fit person to drive?” She knew I was right and stayed quite the rest of the way home.
Finally home, we put our shoes and coats in the closet.
“Would you like to explain to me what happened in that car?” For the first time, I felt like the adult.
“You shouldn’t have heard that, I’m so sorry dear.”
“Mom, tell me.”
“Well, your father wasn’t supposed to be on that tour. Dani was instead.”
“Who’s Dani?”
“Carrie’s mother.” Ahh, I knew I didn’t like Carrie for some reason. “Dani got sick before the tour and couldn’t go, so your dad had to go in her place.”
“Oh.” I am an awful person.
“That’s why Carrie needs you because she didn’t lose her father, she lost her mother.” So that’s why I would understand, we share the same pain. I hugged my mom, and we both cried together that night. We held each other and fell asleep on the leather couch.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Family Story
It was the time of year that my dad would return home. Christmas was the day I looked forward to every year since I was five. Not for the presents, or the magical lights, and not even the joy of hanging ornaments gently on the tree, but because I was able to have time with my family. This was a rare thing. The only time my family gets together is if my dad comes home, it is a beautiful thing. Every one laughs, and not just a regular happy laugh, but a real deep down happiness is finally able to show. One night my dad and me were talking by the fire. We were talking of Texas, and my brother, and school. I looked at him and he looked back, but he didn’t look happy.
He was going to tell me something important; he wrinkled his forehead, and said, “You know, I never knew what I was going to do after you were born.” Well thanks dad, good to know.
“I had no idea what to do. We were just kids. I needed a real job to support you.” I wanted to escape; I hated having this type of conversation with my father. If I cry, there is nothing stopping the tears.
“Until men in uniform knocked on my door. That is how I got recruited into the Army. I hate not being here for you, but you have grandma and Alissa. They are in my place now.”
“I know.” That’s all I could get out without balling my eyes out. I needed him so much, I needed him to teach me how to throw a football, swing a bat, and most importantly taunt the boys I foolishly would bring home. He hugged me and kissed my forehead. We slept by the fire and woke to a white Christmas. As I was opening the amazing Nintendo 64, I realized that my dad needs to be in the Army. He has so much heart, and although he may not show that I am his #1 priority, I know I am. He is the soldier someone would write about one day, and tell stories of, and I am so proud to be his daughter. That night will be one I will proudly tell my children and grandchildren one day.
He was going to tell me something important; he wrinkled his forehead, and said, “You know, I never knew what I was going to do after you were born.” Well thanks dad, good to know.
“I had no idea what to do. We were just kids. I needed a real job to support you.” I wanted to escape; I hated having this type of conversation with my father. If I cry, there is nothing stopping the tears.
“Until men in uniform knocked on my door. That is how I got recruited into the Army. I hate not being here for you, but you have grandma and Alissa. They are in my place now.”
“I know.” That’s all I could get out without balling my eyes out. I needed him so much, I needed him to teach me how to throw a football, swing a bat, and most importantly taunt the boys I foolishly would bring home. He hugged me and kissed my forehead. We slept by the fire and woke to a white Christmas. As I was opening the amazing Nintendo 64, I realized that my dad needs to be in the Army. He has so much heart, and although he may not show that I am his #1 priority, I know I am. He is the soldier someone would write about one day, and tell stories of, and I am so proud to be his daughter. That night will be one I will proudly tell my children and grandchildren one day.
Monday, February 8, 2010
New and Improved
I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me then, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in this room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like being in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need.”
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. We figured that we should be going, didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not worry of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look, muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad your back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, and I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families wanting to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized she could use a friend, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad. This person would be peppy me!
“Oh come on mom! She’s a bimbo!”
“She seems like a really nice girl! You could use more friends like her.” Ugh, the friend talk. You see, my friends consist of a gothic I-don’t-give-a-crap, a kid that flies higher than a kite, and the I’m-better-than-all-of-you girl.
“Mom, I don’t need friends, I am perfectly fine by myself.”
“Okay, but your going to regret it one day.” With a roll of my eyes, and the swivel of my feet, I was headed to school. It’s another day, with the same empty-headed students.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need.”
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. We figured that we should be going, didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not worry of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look, muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad your back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, he is back, and life couldn’t get any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong. Maybe I should invite her over for dinner or something? I took a small step forward but thought, who am I kidding, and I would sound like a total creeper. There it was, the moment like the ones in the movies. Everyone took off their hats in respect, and families wanting to take some pain off her heart. But there will always be a whole; no one can ease this pain. Again, I realized she could use a friend, someone to have fun with, and someone to take her mind away from her dad. This person would be peppy me!
“Oh come on mom! She’s a bimbo!”
“She seems like a really nice girl! You could use more friends like her.” Ugh, the friend talk. You see, my friends consist of a gothic I-don’t-give-a-crap, a kid that flies higher than a kite, and the I’m-better-than-all-of-you girl.
“Mom, I don’t need friends, I am perfectly fine by myself.”
“Okay, but your going to regret it one day.” With a roll of my eyes, and the swivel of my feet, I was headed to school. It’s another day, with the same empty-headed students.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Unknown for now
unfinished short story
I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me then, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in this room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like being in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need.”
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. We figured that we should be going, didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not worry of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look, muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad your back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, He is back, and life couldn’t be any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong.
I was so zoned in on them, not because of how beautiful they were together, and not so much because I wanted my dad to be walking off the plane instead of that man, but because I wish my father had been like him when he was alive. The girl gazed at me then, and for a few moments her glistening green eyes locked in on mine. She knew who I was, everyone in this room knew who I was. She pulled away from him, took a step towards me, but refrained from going any closer. Everyone noticed, and stopped rejoicing. My father’s men took off their hats in respect and nodded; family members lowered their heads as a sign of sorrow. I didn’t really know what to do or say, all I could do was nod back and look down at the blue carpet floor. I didn’t need them to feel sorry for me; I didn’t want them to act like I wasn’t okay. I am fine, I am fine, that’s all I could think, I am fine. Peering up through my hair, I could see that they were back to celebrating. Sitting down, I saw them again. Once more, she had the look, only this time she was playing with her hands. Great, she was going to talk to me, say she was sorry for my loss, and she couldn’t imagine what it would be like being in my shoes. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested in her, and yet she still felt obligated to talk to me.
“Lucy”, she said awkwardly, “ Lucy Smith? I’m Carrie.”
“Yeah, and?” I wanted this to be over, why did she have to do this?
“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and if you ever need.”
“Save it, I’m fine. I just came to show my support.”
“Oh, umm. I didn’t want to bother you, I just.”
“I know, feel sorry for me, wanted to make sure I’m okay. Well, I’m here, not crying, not feeling sorry for myself, so you don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
She turned around with such gracefulness, and purity, who does she think she is? Miss perfect doesn’t need to try to fix everything. Mom was walking towards me with coffee in one hand and a teddy bear in the other; I hadn’t even noticed she left. In fact, I didn’t really notice anyone here. We figured that we should be going, didn’t want to run into traffic. Of course, the girl and father had to be in front of us, arms wrapped around each other, giggles floating in the air.
Targeted on Carrie, I daydreamed of tripping her, dragging her off and shoving her in a bathroom stall, leaving her there, and taking her place by her fathers’ side.
WHAP! In all that delightful daydreaming, I should have known karma was going to come back around and strike me in the stomach. Whose bright idea was it to make 4-foot high garbage cans, standing in the middle of walkways? Everyone stopped to look, I could feel my face turn bright red, and then there was mothers’ voice, “You alright dear? What were you staring at so intently?”
“What? Oh, nothing, just thinking.”
Hurriedly, I stood up and kept walking, trying to forget the girl, running into a garbage can, and my father. The car ride back home was quiet, a little chitchat about the dead earth, and school.
Finally home, I could sneak away to my bedroom. Before my dad left for duty, we decided it was time to take down the princess wallpaper and turn it around to look like a teenager would actually sleep there. Caribbean blue walls, lime green curtains, and pictures of family and friends hung on the walls, this was my serenity. The one place I could think of my dad, and not be jealous, not worry of his horrific death, and most of all his incompetence of being a father. This bedroom was the one thing my father did with me before he died, and never again will we enjoy each other’s company.
I could not sit; this was not a time for sitting. This was a time for being restless, after being here for 30 minutes I already managed to go to the bathroom, drink a large cup of coffee, make another trip to the bathroom, and buy a welcome home t-shirt. All I could think was, how do I look, muscular, I hope so, if he even thought I quit swim team, I would be dead. I wanted him to notice I’ve been hitting the pool everyday since he left, and never ever notice the pink tear drop hanging from my belly button. If he knew, oh boy if he knew, I would not be able to enjoy going to the Olympics, because there would be no Carrie to attend the Olympics. Shush Carrie! Your dad could be here any moment, think positive! A huge grin stayed upon my face, there he was, oh my gosh, there he was! What do I do, what do I do? All I could do was squeal! I ran up to him, he grasped my body, there it was, the warm chest that has been the towel to dry up all my tears.
“Hi daddy! I’m so glad your back, how was it? Did you get hurt? Thanks for the souvenirs! Iraqi money is quit interesting.” I couldn’t get enough words out of my mouth fast enough.
“Care bear! Slow down! We’ll talk about it all later, for now I want to hear how swimming is doing.” Ahh, I could never get sick of that voice, the voice of comfort and wisdom. But the words coming out of his mouth couldn’t have been at a worse time. Swimming? He’s been gone for a year and he wants to talk about swimming?! Oh well, He is back, and life couldn’t be any better!
Resting my head on his shoulder again, I saw her. Lucy Smith, she was the daughter of Sergeant Smith. If it weren’t for him, we would all be shedding tears over tombstones. I wonder how she is taking this? Why was she here? I wouldn’t be able to be here if I was her. She sure is strong.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
PLN
Personal Learning Network is a class that I am taking. I am taking this class to help get my work noticed.
Time To Take A Stand
Some claim were in it for oil
Others say we picked a fight
Why would we want to toil
That’s a red light
Have you seen the death toll
It’s a big fright
What happened to the brave
When did that courage pass
We’ve gotten used to digging graves
This doesn’t need to last
They need to be saved
Before times runs out fast
Others say we picked a fight
Why would we want to toil
That’s a red light
Have you seen the death toll
It’s a big fright
What happened to the brave
When did that courage pass
We’ve gotten used to digging graves
This doesn’t need to last
They need to be saved
Before times runs out fast
Friday, January 22, 2010
What does writing mean to you?
Writing. Who really, truly enjoys to write? Well I do, this is my passion. I love to write, whether it is assigned to me, or I choose to do it on my own. Most people moan and groan when a 3 page paper is assigned to them, where as I think that 3 pages isn't enough. I write because I want my stories to be told. I have a hard relationship with my father, you could catch me writing about my father 90% of the time. To me, writing is a way to let out your feelings. So I ask you, what does writing mean to you?
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