Creative Writing:Short Story

"Cyber-Man" By :Amber Klepfer

2006-06-12T08:29:00.000-04:00

I typed. "My name is Mackenzie. I am a senior in high school, which makes me about nineteen. (I started school late in life). My parents are competing with each other to see who can buy me the better things. So, live on my own in a huge house (my mom bought it for me). I just got a brand new, never been used Camaro (my dad bought it for me). It’s cherry red with black leather interior. Now, what about you?" He never answered any of my questions. He just always asked me questions and expected me to answer them. Like where do I live, where do I work, do I have a boyfriend or am I married? Even though I have a boyfriend, I didn’t really understand why it mattered if there was a man in my life or not, YET ! My mom always told me to be careful of whom I talked to on-line and never give out any of my information to a guy, especially if I didn’t know him and have never met him. But, being a typical teen, I gave him my name and number (via E-mail). How stupid was I? All he had to do was look me up in the phone book or google me and find where I live (my parents were very rich, very well known, and they put all of my families information on the internet, really stupid right!). But, wait! I didn’t give him my last name. So I went to bed terrified about what could happen to me.
When I got up in the morning, I drove to my friend Sarah’s house. When I got there she asked me what was wrong because I was quiet and I am never quiet. I told her that I was fine and we left for school. In school, people kept staring at me and I couldn’t figure out why. How could they know? I didn’t even tell anyone. I started to get scared. I felt sick to my stomach. I was starting to get creeped out. Then a really hot Jock (named Junior, whom I’ve had a crush on since before I met my boyfriend in seventh grade. He has a really nice body and honey brown eyes, which looked very humble and warm) told me that I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe. That made me feel much better.
I was very antsy during school. My teachers started to complain. I couldn’t sit still and I wasn’t paying attention in class. I was "daydreaming." I couldn’t stop daydreaming of what "HE" looked like.
When the last bell finally rang, I was ecstatic. I was looking forward to going home and curling up by the computer to see if "Cyber-Man" was waiting for me, to log-on. I called him "Cyber-Man" because he never told me his real name so I made one up for him.
When I got home I immediately logged on, and of course he was already logged on waiting for me. He had sent me 6 E-mails in one day. (He apparently had too much time on his hands). He wanted me to IM (Instant Message) him. As I went to IM him, my phone rang. Could it be? No, never, it couldn’t possibly be … it was possible. It was him, "Cyber-Man." "Hello," I said scared stiff. Then there was silence. "Is anyone there?" I asked.
"Hi," he said finally. "I know where you live. I can see every move you make through your window," he continued. I was frantic, I couldn’t breath. With tears streaming down my face, I dropped the phone. As I ran to the window, I tripped over the phone cord and I hit the floor THUMP! (Luckily for me it was carpet). I heard a voice coming from the phone on the floor next to me, "Are you okay?" he asked. The voice sounded really close. As I lay on the floor holding my shin, I heard footsteps.
"GO AWAY!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. But luckily it was only Sarah, my best friend, from school. She asked what happened and I told her nothing; that I was fine and that I had just fallen.
Then the voice of "Cyber-Man" filled the room, "I am coming for you!" he said. I got up, grabbed my camera and limped to the door. "Cyber-Man" was walking up the steps to my front door! I locked the door and Sarah came over to me screaming "WHAT’S GOING ON?" "Just lock all of the windows and doors, and close all of the blinds and curtains," I said. She said, "Whatever!" and did what I asked. I limped to the couch, sat down and moved the curtain out of the way. I picked up my camera and started snapping pictures. As he rang the doorbell I paused, should I answer it.
"DON’T ANSWER IT!" I shouted. He looked at me like I was mental or something. (Which if I may add I’m not). As I took pictures of him getting out of his car, his license plate number, and a picture of the Florida plate. "Cyber-Man" turned and looked directly at me. I was now face to face with "Cyber-Man!" Chills ran down my spine. Sarah came and plopped on the couch behind me. I got a few more shots just as he turned to go get in his car (a black Corvette with red leather interior).
Sarah turned, looked at me confused and said; "I have never seen you like this before. It’s kind of freaking me out." I apologized. She couldn’t understand why I gave him my name and number, and that he had found me so quickly. I asked her if she would stay the night and she accepted the invite with open arms. We went around one more time checking all of the windows and doors to make sure they were all locked. I let the butler go home early. I told Sarah that I was going to take a bath and try to relax. She said that she would take a shower in the spare bathroom while I took my bath.
The next morning we woke up to the doorbell. "Could it be "Cyber-Man" coming back to get me?" I asked myself. I had sent the butler home so Sarah and I walked to the front door. We both peaked out the window. With a huge sigh of relief I unlocked and opened the door. It was the UPS man. Why do they come so early in the morning? (By the way it was 7:00 AM). That should be illegal. But what can I do? Sarah turned to me and asked, "Who is it from?" "I don’t know," I said. "It doesn’t say. It just says TO Mackenzie Marie," I explained. I stared at the package dazed and confused.

Exam project

2006-06-12T01:31:00.000-04:00

Castle of Sand

“…when the summer dies and the muteness is mine. In the winter I stand hidden far in the bar and the time is passing. Month, year. And I’m falling, falling, falling…”.
As I hear that song I fall back right on her bed, lying right next to her. The fire attached to the braided wick is flicking, and give the room a gloomy, dimmed scene. I inhale her breath into my lungs, and open my eyes slowly to look at her beautiful face. She is laying close to me. Her eyes are closed, and she is breathing softly. I breathe in the smell from her shampoo. It has a fruity smell, mango I think. I lean my head closer to her, hoping that she would do the same so our lips, maybe, would accidentally touch each others. I look at the clock radio. Its green numbers are glowing on the surface of her dark-brown hair. It is ten after nine. My curfew is really nine o’clock so I know I have to get going soon, even though I don’t want to. I feel comfortable here in her bed. I want the time to stop. I want to be here forever by her side. Forever, always.
She is lying on her side with folded legs with her body facing mine, and mine facing her. Her stomach is growing as it was fills with my breath, and shrinks when the oxygen leave her lungs into my mouth. She appears so peacefully. Like a sleeping baby, so innocent, so pure. Everything feels so right. I wouldn’t like to be anywhere else but right here. I want to be filled with the inside of her. I want to embrace her, and never let go. I want to be connected to her beautiful house made of flesh and bone with thousand of unbreakable wires made out of a material that would last throughout the end of the world. When the pyramids are nothing but a pile of dirt, when the mountains are shattered to valleys, when the sun turns into a black hole, I want to be right there, laying on the top of her bedspread and watch her sleep.
I look up over her hair on the opposite wall of the room. Pictures, stuck with thumb tags are hanging between her desk and the door. I squint with my eyes, trying to see what it is. Kristina’s pretty smile is taking up the whole photograph, so that the girl she’s standing next to is barely noticed. Kristina looks happy. On an other picture she is holding a giant light brown teddy bear at, what it looks like, some amusement park. There is a Paris wheel in the background and her big sister is standing next to her holding two fingers behind Kristina’s head. I wonder if a picture of me will ever be on that wall.
Kristina jerk awake and I flinch, as I’m taken off guard. I look at her. In a flash she was as still as a rock again, sound asleep. Drool is running down her left cheek and is making a dark blue mark on the light blue bead spread. I smile, move my hand from behind my back toward her face. I wipe her cheek with my finger, and then rub the drool off my finger on the pillow my head is resting on to dry it. I look back at her. Her eyelids are twisting. Wonder what she’s dreaming about. I take my hand and let it float above her shoulder. I move it down along her side without touching her. I want to touch her. Show her that I care for her, that she is my everything. The gravity is strong. But I’m holding back. I built my castle for just one man, no one else. I can do it. I can’t show her how much she means to me. Even though she is so beautiful that it hurts.
I remember that moment as I was in it right now.

The song ends and another one starts. System of Down, but I can’t remember what the song is called. I take my headphones of my ears and let them rest on my shoulders. I look out the window and watch the cars flashing by as the bus is traveling the way toward school. The noise strikes me. In front of me two black guys with sunglasses are shouting at a girl, sitting in the front of the bus. She is ignoring them. Further back in the bus I can hear football jocks scream and laugh. On the opposite side of my seat a short, blonde guy is sitting, quietly, watching out the window.

- Duuude! Mike is yelling out.

I feel a firm grip on my shoulders from the seat behind me.
- Yo! I shouted back.
- Stevo, me, Matt and you are crashing Steph’s party tonight, man!
I turn my head back and he lets go of my back with his hands.
- Man, I can’t tonight. I gotta stay home and baby-sit my little brother.
- Dude, you’re a friggin’ loser? Mike replies.
- “Sitting home and baby-sit my little brother”. Dude, you gotta start livin’, man. He says.
As I’m turning back I say:
- What ever, man.
- Dude, you can’t miss this shit, man! We’re gonna have a crazy time over there, and you know it!
I look out the window as the bus turn in to the school property.
- Shut up Mike. I mumbled back to him.
Mike jumps from his seat onto mine.
- Simon! What’s wrong, man?
Mike pushes me with his shoulder lightly.
I turn my head, and look at him.
- I’m busy tonight, alright? I said, a bit annoyed.
Mike jerks back, with his palms up in the air like he surrender.
- Ok, ok. Chill, man. What ever you gotta do, you gotta do. But I’ll call you if you’ll have time later on, aaight?
- Sure, that’s cool. I said.
We started walking out of the bus and in through the main entrance of Randolph Central High School. It was a nice day outside. Finally it’s Friday.
46-35-26. I push up the handle and pull the locker door out. I grab my bag and take my skateboard under my arm. I slam the locker and start pushing myself through the crowd of students walking out of school. As I walk out of the door that a tall, slender girl in front of me is holding up on her way out the warmth of the sun hit my face and I’m forced to squint my eyes.
- Dude, aren’t you goin’ with the bus!? I hear someone shout as I’m walking pass the yellow school buses that are parked by the curb outside the main entrance .
I look up to the window of my bus and I see Mike’s head stick out of one of them.
- Nuh, I’m gonna ride the board home today. I tell him.
- You’re a fuckin’ loser, man.
I give him the finger and smile as I keep walking. He makes a funny face and pull in his head as the driver is screaming at him.
I put my hand down my pocket and take up my iPod. I put my headphones on my ears. A girl from my math class is waving at me from the inside of a bus window. I wave back and smile.
I put on our song. Kristina’s and my song.

I’m in her room, lying right next to her, watching her. She takes a deep breath. Her little tummy is sticking out from her fitted T-shirt and it seems so cuddly that I just want to squeeze it. I want to put my teeth on her love handles and chew on them. I want to grab her thighs and pierce my fingers through her dark blue jeans, rub my head between those gorgeous breasts. I want to purse my lips and lean forward two inches and just kiss her.

But the door to my castle has to remain closed. I’m not going to give in. I know that if I would ever loose this perfect human being I would never survive. Stay back and stay safe. I can’t let
such a thing as affection effect me. I wouldn’t just get hurt; I would be torn up inside out. Is it worth it?
I slam the door as I walk in the hallway and throw my skateboard in the corner where shoes are laying disorganized. Billy runs to me and put his paws on my leg half standing. I bend down and pet his white furry head.
- Hi buddy! How you’re doin’? how you’re doin’? I erect and Billy steps down and runs to his food bowl.
- You wanna eat, huh? Nop, not until six o’clock, you know that. I say as I hang up my bag on a hook.
Billy sits down by his bowl and lifts his right paw, waiting for me to come over and shake it.
- Silly Billy. I say as a walk passed him in to my room.
I hear the clicking from his paws on the tile floor follow me. I close the door and it gets quiet on the other side of the door. I take my head phones of my shoulders, grab my iPod and put it on my desk. Clicking sound is moving away from the door into the kitchen again. I lay down on my bed and take a deep, quick breath.

- Simon!? Are you in there?
I open my eyes, turn my head and look at the clock radio on the night stand.
- Yeah, I’m here! I shout back.
I was out for more than two hours. The sun is illuminating the room as its rays shines in through my small square window above my dresser. I sit up on the side of the bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes.
- The food is ready if you want any, Simon! The voice comes from the kitchen.
I smell fried onions, and some kind of meat.
- Yeah, I’m coming. I reply.
I stand up and walk over to my mirror, hanging on the door. My gray Element T-shirt is all wrinkled. I brush my hand over it to straight it out. I hear footsteps coming from the kitchen toward my door. It gets quiet.
- If you want any food its ready now. The voice is right by my door.
- I hear you mom! I yell out. It gets quiet.
I brush my bang to the side and press the hair that stands out on the side down to the scalp.
Footsteps are moving in to the kitchen.
I open the door and see my mom leaning against the wall watching the TV in the living room while she holds her plate with meat loaf, potato and vegetables. I walk over to the table and pulls it out. My mom turns around quickly, slams the plate into the wall and almost drops the food.
- Uh! You scared me. She breathes out and put her hand on her chest.
I sit down on the chair and start fills my plate.
- So how was school? She asks.
I can hear Judge Judy on the TV in the living room. I take a sip of milk to get the piece of meat down my throat.
- Good. I reply.
She turns around and watches the TV.
Billy walks over to the side of my chair and puts his paws on my lap. I put my fork in a potato and cut of a small piece. Billy hops down and walk around in a circle. He is crying in a low tone. I take the piece of potato in my hand and holds it above Billy. He sits down and lift his paw.

- Good boy. I tell him.
I shake his paw and lower my hand. He snatches the potato and almost bites my finger. I look up on the table and see The Chicago News lying on the side of the table. I hear commercial on the TV.
- Can you believe it? This woman left her husband after three months of marriage and the guy gets so pissed at her that he takes her truck, the dog and in the middle of the night he sneaks over to her garden and digs up a tree that he bought for her and now she wants it all back. I can’t believe these people. You wonder where they come from, I mean the other day when I drove to Wegmans and this guy…
Garfield steal Jon’s hamburger, and Jon eats Garfield’s cat food as he switch the plates. Spiderman meet his own duplicate that some green little midget is controlling. Dennis is stealing apple from his neighbors.
I gather together a piece of meatloaf and potato. I put it on the fork and put it in my mouth.
- … he didn’t even care. I was so mad that steam came out of my ears…
Dilbert tries to sell a product over the phone as a salesman. The lady he talks to makes fun of the product, his company and him and tells him how much she despite the product. Dilbert says: “please mom?” I chuckle quietly to myself. I turn the page.
- … I mean was it really that hard to apologize, really? I mean if I would’ve…
Under Tonight in The Weather Report there is gray clouds with blue lines that goes from the bottom of the cloud to right above the text underneath it. “Chilly, a shower early”. Saturday: “Breezy with some sun.”
- … You know, there are so many jerk out there…
On Tuesday it says High: 95 degrees, Low: 75 degrees. And a big yellow sun is showed above it with only one little cloud in the top corner.
- … and when I went to the post office and stood in line I say this guy that lives further down the street, you know the guy that always stops me when I walk Billy and rambling on for hours…
The rest of the week is full of yellow suns and it’s getting pretty hot. I plan quickly in my head what I’m going to do those days. Go to the beach, skateboard with Mike and Matt or play basketball at Town Park. I put the last pieces of meatloaf on my fork and eat it.
- … and he was looking at me and I thought to myself: “please don’t talk to me” but of course he comes over and says “hi” and I’m thinking “Oh my god, someone kill me”…
I move the newspaper aside and push out my chair, take my plate and go to the sink.
- … and then he started rambling on about his crappy day and I tried to look as uninterested as possible but I think he was slow or something…
I put on the water, rinse my plate and put the dish and silverware in the dishwasher. As I erect, ready to walk out I glance out the window. The sky over the neighbors brown roof is light blue, almost white.
- … and I thought to myself “I don’t care that your mom is becoming senile or that she calls you twenty times a day…”
Billy walks in from the living room over to his water dish. It is almost empty. There are some light brown crumbs at the bottom. He dip his little head in the silver bowl and start slurping.
I walk over to the hall and grab my skateboard.
- … and he is going on and on and I told him “I’m sorry but can you please leave me alone”…
I take my gray, black Etnies shoes and put them on. I have to pull the back of the shoe over my heal real hard to get it in. The heal gets in and my thumb stings a little from being used as

a shoehorn. Mom is looking down in her food and plays with it as her mind travels away to what ever she is talking about.
- I’m going over to Mike’s, see you later. I tell mom without looking at her as I grab the handle ready to open the side door.
- … and I was ready to run out…
Mom gets quiet.
- What did you say? Where are you going? She asks me almost frenetic.
I open the door and as I walk out I grab my cap, laying on top of the brown wooden cabinet in the garage.
- To Mike’s. I shout back right before the door slams behind me.
I open the screen by the garage door and walk out. Dark clouds are coming in from the lake and the air is feeling moist and heavy. Two little boys are riding bikes up and down their driveway. A man with a Golden Retriever on a red leash is walking on the sidewalk towards me. The dog is sniffing the grass as he pulls the man forward, and he’s leaning back as he’s trying to slow the dog down. I walk out on the street and drop my skateboard on the dark gray concrete. A red truck is stopping by an intersection and then quickly accelerates. I put my left foot on the front of the board and stand still. The truck passes me and I look over my shoulder to see if any cars are coming. I turn my head back and push myself forward with my one foot on the board. The dog freeze as he hears the wheels rolling on the uneven street. The man looks up at me and then at the dog. As I pass the man and his companion the dog barks at me and pulls his owner towards me. He holds the dog back, almost strangles him. I pass them and keep going down the road. The hard plastic wheels against the concrete make a loud noise. My ears hurt from it, but still, it feels peacefully.

I flip my skateboard up and grab it by the front. I stand still for a while. I look at the wooden bench, engraved with phone numbers, phrases, dicks and names. It is real worn out. A tree is standing next to the bench, shading it from the sun. The grass is high around the leg of the bench but underneath and on the sides of it the grass is real low and I can feel the smell of new cut lawn. There is an old lady sitting on the other side of the park, smoking a cigarette.
Her eyes are fixed at a bunch of kids, sitting on the swings over at the playground right in front of her. The kids are laughing. The sky has become darker as the sun is setting and the clouds are gathering above the maples. I lean my skateboard on the bench and sit down. The surface is rougher than I remembered.
I look at the big light brown and yellow building on the other side of the creek by the road. The front is pointy like the shape of a mountain. There are light coming out of the windows to the left of the entrance. I see silhouettes of people in there. They walk around and make odd signs with their hands. Maybe they are doing a play or something. I used to be on the other side of that window, back when it still was fun going to youth group. When Kristina used to go. She stopped go the following week after I was over at her house that day.

The song is playing in my head. I feel her warm breath on my face. The number on the clock radio changes from 9:33 to 9:34. Her head turns and she breathes heavily. I close my eyes, pretending that I’m sleeping. I feel the bed rock as she turns in it. Her leg touches my leg and I get warm all over my body. The bed stops moving and it gets quiet. I stop breath and lay motionless. I feel her hand on my cheek. They are soft. Warm air is blowing on my face and I inhale it as discreet as I can. I can feel the heat from her body as she moves a little closer. I don’t know if we had been laying like that for ten seconds or five minutes but it feels good. I can’t let it go any further though. It’s getting so serious, I’m starting to feel trapped. I’m starting to feel affection so strong I’m almost incapable to control it. I twist my leg

lightly purposely and turn over on my back. I move my head away from her smooth hands and stretch my arms up above my head. I lay with closed eyes and take deep breaths.
- Hey sleepyhead. A pleasing, soft voice says.
I smile in a yawn, rub my eyes real intense and then open them slowly.
- Did you sleep well? Her beautiful voice asks me.
I turn my head and look at her. An angel is smiling back at me.
- Yeah I did. I answer in a low, rusty tone that I fake, making her believe that I’ve been a sleep for a while.
Her smile gets wider and she brushes her shiny hair behind her ear. We’re laying there looking in each others eyes. The silence doesn’t feel awkward at all, and I don’t think she thinks that either. I look at the clock, and then look back at her. She raises her eyebrows and gives me those sad dog eyes that I think are so cute. I smile to her.

I feel a vibration on my thigh. I put my hand down my pocket and take up my old scratchy cell phone and look at the lit up screen. It says “Mike”. A raindrop falls on my hand. It’s getting gloomy outside and the air is chilly. I let my hand rest on my knee and I look up toward the sky. A white sparkling dot has found its way through the masses of clouds and shines on me. I put the phone back in my pocket without lowering my head. It stops vibrating. There is a light breeze and I feel wet drops hit my face.

I remember the night so clearly. One year ago.

She sits up on her bed, with her head over her shoulders looking at me. Her eyes sparks like glowing stars and shines through her dark brown threads of silk. The candle on her nightstand illuminates her face and creates a small shadow on the side of her tiny nose.
- You got to go home, right? She asks me.
I nod to her with a serious face.
- Yeah, my mom is gonna kill me if I’m not. I say.
She turn around and stands up. I crawl over to the edge of the bed and stand up. Kristina blows out the candle and shadows are flicking, then it gets dark. I hear her walk toward the door and I follow with cautious steps. The light from underneath the door is crawling up on the side and lights up the walls, the desk and then Kristina’s white fitted T-shirt and her hair. I squint with my eyes and follow her as she walks out the door.

I flinch as my pocket starts to vibrate again. I look down on my thigh and the bump from the phone in my pocket. I look up again. The ducks splashing in the creek is the only thing that brakes the silence and I can see the silhouettes of the birds as they float together along the stream. The windows are dark by the church on the other side of the water and can no longer hear any kids laughing by the playground. I turn around and look across the park. I can see a yellow, orange glimmer from one of the old lady’s cigarettes as her profile is placed on the bench she has occupied. I turn back and disappear in my thoughts.

I’ll let her follow me on my way home. She walks slowly by me and I try to avoid her eyes as I see her watch me in the corner of my eye. It is a hot summer night and mosquitoes are buzzing in my ear. We are following the creek along the park and people are walking by us. Dandelions are standing proud as they have crawled up through the cracks in the sidewalk. Fireflies create a Milky Way in the center of the park as they fly above the dark grass where the crickets are playing with their jagged bows. A young couple is sitting, holding hands on

a bench looking at each other and don’t even notice us as we walk by. I glance at them and turn my head down again.
- That’s so cute, isn’t it? Kristina says.
I look up at her and she looks at me. She’s smiling. I turn my head down again and pretend that I’m in deep thoughts.
- Yeah it is. I reply silently.
I know what she is thinking, but I can’t be a part of that. I built my castle for one man, one man only. I’ve seen broken hearts way to often, I’ve felt it way too many times and I know this would be the most devastating damage I would ever experience. Everything is so beautiful though. The air is fresh and an orchestra of laugh, splashing water, buzzing wings and violins hiding in the grass are playing just for us. The bright moon is creating ghosts of ourselves on the ground that follows every move we make. I look up and stop abruptly as I see no one walk by me anymore. I turn around quickly and see Kristina stand behind me, looking at me.
- Do you wanna sit down for a while? She asks me and lean her head to a bench she’s standing next to.
I look at the bench and I look at her, shrug my shoulders and say;
- Sure.
She sits down and I walk over to her.
A squirrel runs up a tree by the creek and gray, yellow birds are singing on top of the crown.
I sit down and stretch my legs out and rest my arm on the back of the bench.
It is a beautiful day.
She moves closer to me and lean on my shoulder. A high squeak is sweeping above us and Kristina flinch her head close to mine.
- Don’t worry. It was just a bat that flew by. I tell her with a calm voice.
I lift my arm and let it hang above her shoulder. I slowly move it down, almost touching her but halt and put it back on the back of the bench again. She turns her head and look in to my eyes. My nose is touching the tip of her nose and she shakes her head from side to side real slow. I feel the warm breath from her mouth on my lips. She tilts her head aside and move her mouth closer to mine. The warm air is blowing on my lips more intense and a chill goes through my spine. Everything gets black. The people around us disappear, the moon is no longer above our heads and the orchestra dies out. Right at this moment we are all alone in the world and no one else exist anymore. I feel the heat from her blood, running through the veins inside the skin of her lips.

This was where everything could have changed. But it is too late now, a year later.

Suddenly I panic. I jerk my head back away from her. Away from those warm lips, away from her soothing breath, away from her. She looks at me with big eyes and a confused expression.
- What’s wrong? She asks.
I freeze. I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know why I hesitate. Thoughts are flashing around in my head and I feel I don’t have any control over myself.
- What is it? Kristina asks with a worried voice.
I look at the ducks as they walk around in the tall grass by the water. I look up at the crown of a maple that is leaning over the creek.
- I don’t know. I say in a low voice.
I know that she is staring at me, waiting for an answer but my mouth is all dry and stiff. I built my castle for just one man I’m thinking.
- I don’t think that we should see each other anymore. I hear come out of my mouth.

She is quiet and the orchestra is playing again. But it’s not music anymore, it’s just noise. Terrible noises everywhere. People who screams out ugly words, ducks fighting in the dark creek, bloodsucking mosquitoes that sharps their needles.
- Why? Kristina’s piercing voice asks.
I turn my head and look at her.
- Just go home, Kristina. I say.
A warm breeze sweeps my arms and makes Kristina’s hair swing back and forth. I can see how her eyes get all watery. Her chin crumples and her lips are squeezed tightly together. I look away, not because I’m cold but because I can’t stand see Kristina like she is now.
- Please Simon, tell me what’s wrong!? Kristina cries out with tears in her throat.
My lips are glued together with dry saliva and no matter how hard I try I can’t open my mouth. I sink down with the bench as the weight next to me removes itself. I sit still staring at the water that flows slowly downstream. The high grass bends in the wind and the maple’s leafs plays a song. Under a street lamp on the other side of the creek a man stands trying to lit a cigarette. A spider is crawling up my hand up toward my arm, dragging a thin thread behind him. The pain in my chest gets greater as I hear the foot steps disappear along the concrete path away from the bench. A rabbit jumps out of a bush by the church entrance, standing still, looking around and then jumps over to a little garden with pink and yellow flowers. It disappears in the plants. It gets quiet. The footsteps are gone and I turn my head after her to see if she’s in sight. A shadow under a street lamp moves away, out of the light and then disappears in the night.

A year later I sit here again, on the very same place where I did the biggest mistake of my life. The raindrops are falling down on my shoulders and change the before light gray fabric on my T-shirt into a dark gray and I feel how it sticks to my skin. A warm drop of salt falls down on my lap and unites itself with the water of the sky. I sink my head down and turn my head slightly to the right. Another tear is traveling down my cheek, loose its grip falls down and lands on my jeans.
I built my castle for just one man. That was what I told to myself every time I was afraid. A castle of strength with no one to rule but me. No pain, no disappointments, no betrayal. But it all was a lie, I know that now. A castle of sand, with no one to pick me up when it all comes down. We all need a place to call home. And with Kristina I felt like home, she was my home. I know that now when no one was there to pick me up.

I still see her once in a while, when I’m standing in a corner in blockbuster watching for the new released movies, she comes in with her two girlfriends, Sarah and Jessica. I see her on the passenger seat driving by with her mom on Main Street while I’m walking Billy. Some nights I see her sitting next to me by the bench in the park under the bright moon, leaning her head close to mine and kiss me. But as every night ends, so does the moon, the kiss and she.

Exam project.. (in progress)

2006-06-06T08:40:00.000-04:00

A moment I wish I could freeze
(Part II)

“…when the summer dies and the muteness is mine. In the winter I stand hidden far in the bar, and the time is passing. Months, years. And I’m falling, falling, falling…”.
Every time I hear that song I fall back in her bed, laying next to her. The fire attached to the braided wick is flicking and gives the room a gloomy, dimmed scene. I inhale her breath into my lungs. I open my eyes slowly and look at her beautiful face. She is laying close to me. her eyes are closed, and she’s breathing softly. I breath in the smell from her shampoo. It has a fruity smell, mango I think. I lean my head closer to her, hoping that she would do the same so our lips would accidentally touch each others. I look at the clock radio. Its green numbers are glowing on the surface of the her dark-brown hair. It’s ten after nine. My bus is leaving from the hospital stop quarter to ten, which is a fifteen minute walk.
I want the time to stop. I want to be here forever by her side. Forever, always.
She’s laying on her side with folded legs with her body facing mine. Her stomach is growing as it fills with my breath, and shrinks when the oxygen leaves her lungs into my mouth. She’s breathing so peacefully. I want to eat the air used by her. I want to be filled with the inside of her. I want to embrace her, and never let go. I want to be connected to her beautiful house made of flesh and bone with thousand of unbreakable wires made out of a material that would last throughout the end of the world.
When the pyramids are nothing but a pile of dirt, when the mountains are shattered to valleys, when the sun turns into a black hole, when the Gods are laying in their graves made of clouds, I want to be by her side.
Nothing can ruin this moment. This beautiful, innocent, breathtaking moment. A moment made of the most fragile glass, but still as solid as the foundation of a mountain. A mountain that can be collapsed only by her. She’s banking on the gate that leads to my heart. I’m standing with my ear by the door, listening and holding the handle ready to open it for her. But I’m thinking. I don’t want to think. all I want to do is to lean my head two inches, purse my lips and kiss her. Move out of my comfort zone and embrace the terrifying, unknown consequences.

But I’m afraid.

for newspaper

2006-06-02T08:16:00.000-04:00

Reform, rehabilitation, positive change. Aren’t these the goals of the federal bureau of prisons? But proven by the execution of Stanley “Tookie” Williams on December 13, 2005, all of this is just something to add to the long list of lies that America has been feeding us for countless years. There was no denying the complete change that “Tookie” has accomplished. He co-founded the nationally known Crips gang in 1971. But in recent years he has written nine children’s books to educate young people and initiated the Tookie peace protocol, an international peer mentoring program. He also wrote letters to incarcerated youth, mentored over the phone and through visits to stop people from making the same choices he did. But all of this either went unnoticed or purposefully pushed aside by the powers that be. In this case the terminator. What a fitting name for his role in this situation. Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger was the only person who could grant Stanley clemency. Clemency is a request for mercy, not to impose the death penalty, but instead life without parole. For whatever reasons governor Schwarzenegger chose not to intervene. I believe with this execution, they were trying to set an example. But what kind of message are they trying to send? No matter what you do you will still be a pawn in the system, so know your role. Because of their own ignorance, some people are tired of hearing about the true issues of class and race so I won’t even go into them. Despite them being the most influential factors of this problem. However these are basic human rights being tossed aside and stepped on. In 1981 he was convicted of murdering four people during two robberies. Even though proclaiming his innocence, all of the witnesses facing felony charges of their own, and no physical evidence pointed toward him. He was still found guilty by a jury of his “peers”. This by the way only consisted of two minorities, neither black. After his tremendous work for the betterment of the urban community, and his obvious transformation, why his case couldn’t be reviewed and he be sentenced to life in jail. I mean the man received the presidential call to service award in 2005 and was a five time Nobel Peace Prize nominee. Five time! At this point was the death penalty really necessary, is my big question. I’m out stating my opinion on the death penalty, I just believe in this situation it was the wrong decision. Life would be punishment enough. Jail is not fun, no one wants to be there. He would still be paying with his life, but still contributing positively to society as he was doing. He could have been used as a resource to why people join gangs and help create more prevention programs. Unfortunately instead of the lives that he supposedly took another has been taken.

portrait

2006-05-31T09:13:00.000-04:00

It’s sort of one of those things that you really just can’t explain. Sort of like why Seinfeld reruns are still funny, 45 years after the show ended. Or like suffering through a horrible hangover Sunday morning and swearing you’ll never drink again, only to do it all over the next Saturday night. That’s my relationship with my mother. There’s a love there, a pull, that always seems to bring me back to her, no matter how hard and how far I try to pull myself back.
When my mother was young, her only aspiration was to be a mom. Not a Mother, but a mom. Sure, she wanted to win an Oscar someday and she wanted to be a writer and she wanted to have lunch in Paris with Ani DiFranco and Peter Murphy, before heading over to photograph Morrison’s grave but these were dreams she knew she would never reach. Having kids seemed a somewhat less difficult task. Most of her friends grew tired of her losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence when passing a young woman pushing a stroller or catching a glance of a father spoon feeding his 11 month old some pear flavored mush out of a tiny glass jar.
And I can’t say that she was a bad mother exactly. She wasn’t. She loves her kids more than anything. Especially herself. But that only goes so far when you have to live with her. It’s just the little things about her that drive you crazy. The little “quirks” that make up her personality. The first time I rebelled, really tried to actually do something for the sole purpose of pissing her off, was when I was only 8 years old. The small white bookshelf in my room, the one that was in between the closet and the door to the hall, was for Richard Scarry, Shel Silverstein, and Dr. Suess only. Everything else was on the two pink bookshelves against the walls. Everything was symmetrical. Everything was alphabetical. Everything was in order. I don’t remember what set me off – probably Andrew getting the rest of the strawberry ice cream because he was younger and didn’t understand that vanilla was still ice cream and just as good – but I couldn’t take the order anymore. I started small. The Giving Tree was put in the spot where The Cat in The Hat belonged. Then The Little Piece Of The Big O went in the spot where What Do People Do All Day belonged. At 39 years old, I know now that this is sort of ridiculous but the feeling was exhilarating. I hadn’t just changed the order of the books on my bookshelf. I had defied my mother. I couldn’t stop there. Ten minutes later the pillows were at the other end of my bed, the posters were uneven, and I had rearranged my curtains from pink white pink white pink to white pink white pink pink. My first taste of anarchy.
Standing in the middle of my bedroom, looking at my creation, my masterpiece, I couldn’t help but smile. My expression has never changed quicker than it did when I heard the footsteps on the stairs outside my room. Locking my door, I looked at my room again. The accomplishment I had felt moments before turned to nausea. My mom called my name at the same time as I dove on my bed, frantically placing pillows back in their righteous place at the head of the bed. When my mother called my name from outside the door, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t decide what to fix next.
I yelled out that I was cleaning my room and I wanted it to be a surprise for her and daddy so could she please go away for a few minutes. And she told me that she didn’t like my door being locked and that as soon as I finished I had better unlock it, and she walked away. The panic left me, but the sickness didn’t. I finished cleaning my room slowly, and unlocked, but didn’t open the door. At eight years old I couldn’t stand up to her even with something as trivial as the color arrangement of my curtains. And at thirty-nine, I still don’t think I could. When she comes over, everything has to be perfect. Not because I want to impress her with my collection of vintage French wine posters, but because I don’t want to disappoint her with them being slightly off kilter.

leah's

2006-05-15T11:40:00.000-04:00

Voices in the Hall
Expressing Yourself

Marty Wilke
1. What two articles of clothing that you’re wearing right now express your style the most?
My shoes because I’m emo and I have emo shoes and my hair because I wouldn’t be me without my hair.
2. What do you do in your free time that you feel really expresses you?
Listen to music, play guitar, and pretend I can skateboard.
3. Are there any ways that you express or celebrate your heritage?
I eat spaghetti because I’m Italian.

Caitlyn Rutski
1. What two articles of clothing that you’re wearing right now express your style the most?
My skirt because it looks cute and I like how it fits and my flip flops because I like to “skate” in the hall and they’re comfortable.
2. What do you do in your free time that you feel really expresses you?
Listen to music, sing, ands play my guitar.
3. Are there any ways that you express or celebrate your heritage?
I eat Borsch on Easter. It’s a polish soup.

Sam Sullivan
1. What two articles of clothing that you’re wearing right now express your style the most?
My sweatshirt because it’s from 6 flags and I used to work there and my purse because it’s fun, colorful, and wild.
2. What do you do in your free time that you feel really expresses you?
I stay busy because I hate to be bored. I have 2 jobs, in band and on year book.
3. Are there any ways that you express or celebrate your heritage?
I’m a mutt. My family doesn’t really celebrate culture, we celebrate family traditions.

April Nader
1. What two articles of clothing that you’re wearing right now express your style the most?
My shirt because it has a cat on it and I love cats and a snowflake because we live in buffalo and my necklace because my dad got it for me and it says April on it.
2. What do you do in your free time that you feel really expresses you?
I play on swings and ride bikes.
3. Are there any ways that you express or celebrate your heritage?
I eat pierogi on Christmas.

My Subtotal Life

2006-05-15T11:25:00.000-04:00

Number of earrings purchased; 50
Number of earrings stolen; 0
Number of fights; 7
Number of brothers died; 1, sisters; 1
Number of cars owned; me;0 grandma; 2 grandfather; 3
Number of times i fell down the stairs; 10
Number of arguements; 1000
Number of times i loved my father; 0
Number of parties i attended; 20
Number of times i wish i was dead; 3
Number of times i crashed into a car; 1, car hit me; 0
Number of times i purchased clothes; too many times
Number of times i attended a funeral; 5
Number of times i went to church; 15
Number of times my mom disappeared out of my life; 7
Number of times i read books; 50
Number of times i thought i had an imaginary friend; until i was 8 years old
Number of times i was pregnant; 1, abortion; 1
Number of times i traveled; 20
Number of times i kissed; 100, boys; 2, girls; 0 (never will)
Number of times i been married; 0, engaged; 0
Number of times i had a dream about jumping from the very top of a flight of stairs; too many to keep track of
Number of times i been to the mall; 2000
Number of lost friends; 5
Number of friends i have; 10
Number of times i didn't follow rules;50 (always, still don't now)
Number of times i lied; 100, grandma; 20, grandfather; 80
Number of times i prepared a meal; 15
Number of real relationships; 2
Number of times i cheated; 0, cheated on; 1
Number of times i drunk alochol; lost track of mind
Number of times i went to jail; 0
Number of times i smoked weed; 5
Number of schools attented; 3
Number of times i went to the nail shop; 20
Number of computers owned; 2
Number of times i babysitted; 100
Number of times i went skating; 25
Number of times i wore makeup; 1
Number of times i been called a bitch; plenty of times; calling someone a bitch; all the time

Number of Times

2006-05-15T11:09:00.000-04:00

Christina Gray

Number of times I wore weave: 1,895 Number of times I slept in class: 59 Number of times I back talked my mother: 568 Number of times I threw up: 40 Number of times I cried over a boy: 25 Number of times I’ve been dumped: 0 Number of times I dumped someone: 3 Number of times I sing a day: 52 Number of times I’ve stolen: 43 Number of times I got caught: 0 Number of times I cursed: 50,854 Number of B2K posters I had: 42 Number of times I kissed a boy: 206 Number of boyfriends: 4 Number of times I’ve been in love: 1and a half Number of best friends:1 Number of books I’ve read: 158 Number of books I looked up on Spark notes: 15 Number of awards I got: 57 Number of I hurt myself: 148 Number of times I got in a fight: 4 Number of times I told my mother I love her: 8,574. Number of times I got a whooping: 96 Number of times I went to a barbecue: 73 Number of time I went to a party: 38 Number of times I was starving: 75 Number of times I didn’t come to school: 194 Number of times I was jealous of someone else: 21 Number of times I’ve talked bad about someone: 624 Number of times I’ve been talked bad about to my knowledge: 104. Number of times I’ve read scriptures from the Bible: 207 Number of times I’ve cleaned the whole house: 97 Number of times I had a crush on someone: 28 Number of pets I had: 8 Number of trees I’ve climbed: 9 Number of times I’ve been sexually harrassed:54 Number of times I killed a bug: 83 Number of times I thought about killing someone: 6 Number of times I thought about killing myself: 1 Number of times I’ve been depressed: 41 Number of times I’ve been happy: 8,758,789 Number of times I cooked a whole meal: 108 Number of times I had an itch: 130,578,147. Number of times I got drunk: 1 Number of times I got high: 1 Number of times I snuck out the house: 3 Number of time I snuck someone in the house: 5 Number of times I polluted: 5,745. Number of times: I got sick: 574. Number of bumps I have: 10

Christina Gray

my things i did

2006-05-15T00:36:00.000-04:00

Then number of beer’s drunk 1127, Number of chicken wings eaten 2002, number of times falling down 7, number of drugs done 0, number of cars owned 3, number of engines built 1, number of crabs I rebuilt 2, number of close people I lot 3, number of burnouts done 15, number of tires bought 8, number of tool owned 1532, number of girls kissed 10, number of times in the hospital 22, number of times I went to Darien Lake 132, number of fish caught 401, number of fishing trips with my grandpa Davie 236, number of times on his boat 101, number of fishing poles I own 7 number of sparks killed 25, number of roller coasters I went on 11, number of time I went to Florida 3 time, number of weeks spent their 4 weeks, number of time at Disney 20, number of parks I went to 4, number of rides I went on 58 1/2, number of times I yelled at my mom 16, number of times I learned my lesson 16, number of times polled over 2, number of tickets 0, number of times speeding 69, number of birthday parties 328, number of cakes eaten 20, number of people I made cry 11, number of people that have hurt me 20, number of years I went to school 12 number of papers written 11034, number of words written 1083957 and then some, number of times swimming 203, number of time I went to work 1424 day, number of hours I worked 4285 hours ant 7.00 and hour, number of popcorn bags filled 3928 and counting, number of drinks poured 3929, number of bosses 3, number of cool bosses 3, number of times I was late to work 1, number of dollars I made last year 6173.74, number of movies I have scene 204, number of movies I own 200, number of times I walked around the battle felids at Gettysburg 21, number of time I stop to admire the battle field 2, the number of times I watch anchorman 25 times, number time I listened to the song care on my wayward son by Kansas 120, number of times I have watched the video 53 time, number of time I hugged my mother 2743 and counting, number of time I had my heart broken to many time to remember, number of wakes I have been to 4, number of times I loved my family 305839 times

Subtotals

2006-05-15T00:00:00.000-04:00

Number of times I have been parachuting: 1. Number of girlfriends I’ve had: 21. Number of serious relationships: 5. Number of times I’ve been in driving a four wheeler: 3. Number of times I’ve been skateboarding: 230. Number of times I’ve done laundry: 170. Number of times I’ve been tricked by a salesman: 2. Number of times I’ve missed my school bus: 48. Number of doughnuts I’ve eaten: 132. Number of doughnuts I’ve eaten within the year: 131. Number of times I fell asleep in class: 312. Number of tattoos: 1. Number of piercing: 1. Number of times I hit my piercing and it started bleeding: 9. Number of bicycles I’ve owned: 5. Number of bicycles I’ve broken: 11. Number of Ferraris I’ve scratched: 1. Number of beers I had: 337. Number of shots I had: 32. Number of cigarettes I smoked: 5,412. Number of times I brushed my teeth: 12,568. Number of famous people I’ve seen in real life: 27. Number of basketballs I’ve hit in the basket: 3,679. Number of times I missed: 41,075. Number of shoes I wore: 412. Number of t-shirts I’ve torn while fighting with my giant puddle: 12. Number of times I’ve had sexual contact with a girl: 81. Number of times it lead the whole way: 56. Number of condoms I’ve used: 2. Number of kisses: 3,907. Number of times I lied to my mom: 1,587. Number of times she found out that I lied: 12. Number of times I changed clothing style: 6. Number of times I cried while watching a movie: 8. Number of times I let anyone see me cry: 0. Number of times chipped a tooth: 3. Number of times I bit my tongue: 6. Number of times I cut myself (by accident): 45. Number of times I didn't do my homework: 42. Number of times my homework: 2,671. Number of places lived: 2. Number of times I've been on an airplane: 15. Number of nightmares: 230. Number of times I remembered a dream when I woke up: 675. Number of times called someone a loser: 2,341. Number of times someone called me a loser: 4,007. Number of times I forgot my school id tag: 5. Number of times I asked someone else to buy my lunch: 5. Number of hours spend by a computer: 2,776. Number of of those hours when the computer froze: 1,412. Number of hours spend in school: 21,867. Number of hours I acually worked: 2,004.

J-Rod's Subtotals

2006-05-12T10:55:00.002-04:00

Number 0f family members in my family-5
Number of times been lectured by parents day to day-7
Number of times been lectured for entire year-1,025
Number of times been on this blog-6
Number of times been out of state-10
Number of times been yelled at for year-2,001
Number of times yelled at someone-647
Number of times been to McDonalds for a year-48
Number of times been to Wendy's for a year-36
Number of times been in a limo-2
Number of times tripped while skating on ice-12
Number of times I hurt someone from hitting them in ice hockey-16
Number of times been hurt from being hit in hockey-2
Number of ice hockey sticks broken over the past 9 years- 89
Number of trophies owned-39
Number of plaques owned-17
Number of times beaten up my little brother-113
Number of meals eaten a day-5
Number of times been on TV-1
Number of VCR tapes owned-32
Number of DVD's-23
Number of piercings had over childhood-7
Number of times forgot to do HW-62
Number of times didn't really want to do any HW-1,000
Number of times i swear a day-95
Number of Animals owned-3
Number Of times slept on the job for more than 4 hours -58
Number of times slept on a bed-10,000
Number of time slept on the floor-65
Number of times slept on other-49
Number of times get into stupid dumb little fights with someone-78
Number of times it was with someone close-2
Number of socks owned over my life-850
Number of socks that were lost over my life-127
Number of books owned-0
Number of books read-0
Number of books read in the near future-0
Number of books that i lied and said that i read it-45
Number of CD's owned-50
Number of CD's i actually listen to-10
Number of listen to Mrs. Suda talk about work cited-30
Number of times Mr. Wright talk about making the right choice-60
Number of times been to church-0
Number of dropped kicked someone in the face-1
Number of times watched little brother get whooped on by my beast dog
Number of times i told my dad that he is a midget-1,000
Number of times he lectures and says something about smokey the bear-40

Subtotals

2006-05-12T10:55:00.001-04:00

number of cars driven:4
number of times i went shopping:5,083
number of sucessful relationships:1 failures:3
number of times i've been to Florida: 16
number of deaths in the family: close 4, distant 10
number of times late to school: 76
number of flip-flops owned: 22
number of necklaces owned: 82
number of times i picked up the phone and no one was there: 3,785
number of times i look at the clock during class: 6,793,082
number of times i sat through boring assemblys:265
number of times i jumped off a cliff:0
number of pets i've owned: dogs 3, cats 2, lizards 3, fish 8, hamster 2
number of times i dyed my hair: 9
number of times talked on the phone:20,845
number of times went out to eat: 320
number of times didn't listen to my parents: 11,987,256
number of times watched tv:25,650,142
number of jobs held:6
number of times went to the hospital for myself:1
number of glasses worn:8
number of houses owned:1 other state:2
number of skittles eaten:5,940,367
number of earrings owned:32
number of purses owned:14
number of hockey games watched:244
number of teachers had:40
number of times ate McDonalds:680
number of snacks bought at school:310
number of times played in the rain:52
number of times worn a dress:28
number of times i've cut the lawn:95
number of art classes taken:6
number of times i daydreamed in class:365
number of lockers i've had:6
number of phones owned:9
number of hours i've laughed:250,988,670
number of siblings: 1 sister, 1 brother
number of awards: 62
number of meets ive swam in:40
number of coaches:3
number of keys in my key chain:3
number of times i've wrote number of times:34
number of times i went skydiving:2
number of poems i wrote:5
number of exams taken:44
number of times i got in trouble for talking: 4,023
number of times i got kicked out of the library for talking:4
number of times we remodeled our house:7
number of pillows on my bed:7
number of times i brush my hair:365,612
number of times i've called off work and lied about my excuse: 64
number of cds i own: 82
number of times i stole my sisters clothes: 222
number of timed i went tanning:46
number of times i thought i was right: 302,150 and i really wasnt 302,149
number of computers i own:2
number of movies i went to:67
number of arguments i got into with Boyfriend:15..I won:15
number of times i rode in a limo:3
number of songs i have downloaded:713
number of people i sit next to daily:64
number of times i've used the bathroom:962,873,231
number of times i use selective hearing:615
number of pen wars i was involved in:12
number of times i made a copy:898
number of times i drank powerade:201

Subtotals

2006-05-12T10:55:00.000-04:00

subtotals

2006-05-11T23:53:00.000-04:00

number of times fallen asleep in school: 0
number of times wished I could fall asleep in school: 43
number of black tank tops: 8
number of CDs, bought: 19; made: 16; copied: 11
number of pairs of footwear, sneakers: 4; flip flops: 6; shoes: 5
number of questions unanswered: 5,629
number of trees climbed: 3
number of times I dyed my hair: 7
number of stuffed animals: 54
number of tears cried: 2,296,302
number of lies told, white: 387; any other color: 74
number of that 80’s song: 867-5309
number of poems written: 58
number of times been kissed in the rain: 1
number of nail polish colors owned: 23
number of times thought about ending my life: 78
number of pant size: 5 or 7
number of pets: 6
number of times fallen, literally: 98; metaphorically: 32
time right now: 11:14 PM
number of concerts attended: 10
number of times laughed until I cried: 6
number of times cried until I laughed: 1
number of shoes size: 9 ½
number of broken hearts: 3
number of copies of Wuthering Heights: 2
number of times I played mother to my mother: 5
number of times wished I looked like her, or her, or her: 3,865
number of times been happy to be in a relationship: 8,196,362,015
number of times regretted to be in a relationship: 21
number of broken bones: 0
number of earrings lost: 11
number of times purposely hurt myself: 18
number of times hated my brother: 57
number of times missed my nephew: 365
number of times homesick: 17
number of times my mom annoyed the hell out of me: 602
number of times hated being a girl: 34
number of times loved being a girl: 2,594
number of unexplained feelings: 88
number of clothes stained with food or something else: 26
number of times been afraid, of things: 93; of living: 127
number of times said I love you: 3,564,784,273
number of times wished I were somewhere else: everyday

Subtotal = total

2006-05-11T23:15:00.000-04:00

Number of times did homework; on time: 1,379; late: 22. Number of times played piano in the dark: 27. Number of words written: 2,923,689,301. Number of sandwhiches made: 267. Number of times listened to Bohemian Rhapsody: 681. Number of stubbed toes: 378. Number of hours worked in a week; most: 39.75; least: 10. Number of unpure thoughts: 408,301. Number of concerts been to: 8. Number of past schedules and paychecks: 74. Money in my accounts: $2,600; in my pockets: $0. Packs of cigarettes smoked: 4. Number of Old Navy Card applications processed: 317. Number of hours consumed by video games: 798. Number of times wailed the National Anthem: 32. Number of times Sabres have won while watching the game: 3; while not watching: 42. Number of belly flops: 12. Number of songs on iPod: 1482. Number of times yelled at by parents for having amp and music up too loud: 321. Pairs of sunglasses owned: 7. Number of pairs of flip-flops owned: 4. Average number of times hitting the snooze button: 6. Number of times proven wrong: 26. Number of times hit in the arm by an oompa-loompa: 29. Number of checks written: 0. Number of times fallen asleep with contacts in: 45. Number of pink shirts owned: 6. Number of times in love: 2. Number of times not in love, but thinking I was: 598. Number of times caught talking with my hands: 154. Number of times having to deal with distraught customers: 1,142. Number of hours of sleep a night: 5. Number of spoonfuls of sugar in coffee: 2. Number of times going up a skateboard ramp on a bike, not having enough speed and going head first into the ground almost killing myself: 1. Number of times thought I was someone else: 18. Number of uncleaned up piles of dog poop in the backyard: 27. Number of sprays of cologne: 6. Number of formulas required by memory in calculus: 352.

Subtotals

2006-05-11T21:41:00.000-04:00

Number of times I was in the same room as a baby being born: 1. Number of times I acted like a dog and a dinosour in one night: 1. Number of time Ashley and I fell off a chair together: 3. Number of times I slammed my bedroom door: after a fight with my mom: 56; just for fun: 37. Number of times i had to explain that i did not make the rules, I just have to make people follow them: 2,763. Number of times i have been assuced of flirting with Ashley: 578. Number of times i have seem my big brother threatened with a knife: 1. Number of times I beat ashley in Jet Set Radio Future: 1,563. Number of times ashley bit me: 93. Number of times my dad promised he would come back and stay: 2. Number of times he actually did: 0. Number of times I ate dill pickle chips and vanilla ice cream: 1. Number of times i have moved: 22. Number of times my house has been shot at: 1. Number of days i was a cheerleader: 160. Number of goals i scored for my soccer team: 13. Number of times I was actually in love: 1. Number of times i wished my sisters husband was dead: 547,098. Number of times I fell up the stairs: 77. Number of times the tarot cards have been right: 176. Number of times i have gotten scared of "most Haunted": 7. Number of times a Backstreet Boy and his kid were on my ride: 1. Number of times i painted a room: 6. Number of friends lost because of stupid fights: 4. Number of miutes it took Arika and I to get out of that one damn level on Jet set Radio Future: 44 minutes and 27 seconds. number of times I put milk on ice cream: 179. Number of times I have been hit by a car: 1. Number of times I have been shot at: 2. Number of times I wish I did my homework sooner: 78. Number of times I let Ashley put curlers in my hair and then fall asleep with them in and wake up looking like an electrucuted poodle until someone tamed it: 1. Number of times I had a blonde moment: 25,769.

Subtotals

2006-05-11T21:08:00.000-04:00

number of schools i've attended: 4. number of books i've read for school: 30. for fun: 1200. number of cd's i've burned: 14. number of Bad religion songs on those cd's: 5. number of bamboo plants owned: 3. number of bamboo plants eaten by my cat: 2. number of countries i've lived in: 2. number of times moved: 15. number of black pens lost: 46. number of mocha SpotShakes, tall: 53. grande: 9. number of times performed on stage: 16. number of "best" friends: 11. number of bracelets made for other people: 34. number of times i've been the dirty mistress: 2. number of times people assumed I was: 5. number of teeth pulled: 13. number of autographed books: 6. number of "real" jobs: 1. number of locker combinations memorized: 12. number of computers owned: 5. number of words per minute i can type : 59. number of times i've been called a daddys girl: 63. mommys girl : 4. number of crushes on teachers: 4. celebrities : 46. politicians: 2. number of jellyfish seen: 3. number of times i've seen my mom cry: 307. stepfather: 2. dad: 3. number of screennames: 9. number of bookshelves organized: 21. movie shelves: 8. number of rings i wear everyday: 2. necklaces: 3. bracelets: 5. number of "real"-ish relationships: 7. number of times in love: 2. number of vinyl records owned: 37. number of funerals attended : 9. weddings: 7. number of video game operationg systems: 12. number of times tried to go vegetarian: 4. number of family gatherings i've dreaded attending: 18. number of "The Sims" games and expansion packs owned: 12. number of books bought just for show: 7. number of playbills kept: 19. number of campfires attended, at camp: 20. at the cottage: 194. other: 5. number of times broken the law: 17. number of different laws broken: 3. number of times tried to explain that sometimes black doesn't match black: 47. number of posters, bands: 3. marilyn monroe: 3. other: 5. number of tv series seasons on dvd owned: 5. number of times i've thrown my cell phone: 13. number of times I dyed my hair: 4. number of times insomnia has kept me up all night: 17. number of times been accused of having an eating disorder: 6. number of Myspace friends: 70. number of those people I actually use Myspace to talk to: 9. number of poetry readings attended: 9. open mikes: 3. number of "celebrities" i've met: 6. number of concerts attended, school:17. big bands: 1. house shows: 3. number of times swore off fastfood restaurnts: 2. number of times broken that: 2. number of times my brother had a crush on one of my friends: 3. number of my friends my sister has hated: 4. number of tv shows i watch every week: 8. number of times fell off of swings: 2. number of stories i've written: 14. number of times I realized I just don't care anymore: 19.

Subtotals

2006-05-11T20:40:00.000-04:00

Number of houses I lived in: 3. Number of times I beat up my sister: 2,493. Number of times I needed stitches: 0. Number of first place ribbons for swimming: 2. Number of schools I attended: 4. Number of dogs I’ve owned: 3. Number of cousins: 10. Number of times I babysat: 63. Number of times I’ve been in Pittsburgh: 4. number of states I’ve been in: 10. Number of grandparents that I still have: 2. Number of times I’ve been late to elementary school because of my dad: 1067. Number of times my sister annoys me: 5,683. Number of times I threw a no-hitter in a softball game: 0. Number of times I placed in one of my events in swimming: 9. Number of times I’ve been late to work: 3. Number of times I’ve had a customer complain to me about something at work: 5,417. Number of times at least one of the tills at work were not even: 41. Number of students in my eighth grade graduating class: 8. Number of times my parents yelled at me: 3,569. Number of words I can type per minute: 30. Number of dresses I own: 7. Number of months in a year: 12. Number of English classes I took this year: 4. Number of colleges I applied to: 4. Number of years I’ve spent in school: 15. Number of hours I work per week: 20. Number of hours I sleep each night: 6 ½. Number of Oreos I can fit in my mouth at once: 3. Number of classes I take in one school day: 7. Number of times my brother got yelled at: 12,637. Number of times in a day my mom yells at my dad to stop messing with the dog: 6. Number of text messages I send every day: 5. Number of times I was depressed: 5. Number of times I wanted to kill myself: 3. Number of suits I own, Dress suit: 1; Swimsuit: 10. Number of swim meets I’ve had this year: 12.

For Start magazine

2006-05-03T10:08:00.000-04:00

What’s in A,
By Tifani Milewski

When I was younger I hated my name. It’s a name with such…I don’t know such…implications.

I do not look like a Tifani.

A Tiffani.
A Tifany.
A Tiffany.
You have to know what I mean right? It’s a name so sugary sweet it practically curls upon the page: Tifani, Tiffani. Tifany Tiffany.

It’s cotton candy. Its marshmallow fluff. It’s the name of a doll, a princess.

A stripper.

No offense to all you other “Tiffany’s”. Let’s use the “original” spelling here (or the only one that came up right on spell check) who have tried to work past the name. To be something more then sparkles and fluff with just a dash of rainbows.

I could never complain to my Mother (Just my mother. According to my father he wanted to name me either Helena or Shannon….Do I look like a Helena?) Apparently she’d loved the name had it picked out since she was six years old (cue the AWWWWWWW, right?) and she could not be fazed could never see my horror at being given such a sweet name.

Maybe if I had ended up a super model, trophy wife, or ballerina…but what world famous authors/doctor’s/actresses (I’ve wanted to be many thing’s in life) are named Tiffany? Huh? Name one and for those of you who have seen Saved by the Bell don’t you dare bring up Ms. Theissen. She doesn’t count.

Point made. Right?
I was too smart to be a “Tiffany”.
Too independent.
Too dignified.
(And again this is just me being a little full of myself. No offense to all you other Tiffany’s.)

And my mother could never see that (will never see that) because she has to LOVE the name so much, since she was six years old.

“Tiffany’s” is the name of a jewelry store in an Audrey Hepburn movie.
“Tiffany” is not…I am NOT a Tiffany!!!!!

You see my point right?

Right?

Shut up! I am not making a big deal out of this. You try walking around with a name that could induce cavities and pretty much predestines a love of the color pink (and I don’t hate pink…I tried for so long!) and then you have earned the right to complain to me.

Okay???!!!

Okay.

Well….

Yeah….
So anyway you’ve probably noticed that I’m saying this all in the past tense right?

Meaning I’m over my past….issues…with what my mother choose to call me out of the BILLIONS of other….anyway I’m over it, I’m over it, it’s not so bad and she meant well giving me a tiny piece of individuality among all the strippers and cheerleaders (Again no offense…don’t hate me!). Out of the fifteen or so other “Tiffany’s” I’ve met in my lifetime I’m the only one with one “F” and one “I” so that’s something. Right? Right.

And I like many others am working on reclaiming the name, making it my own, adding a little less sugar, and a little more buy my books and worship me.

Oh yes one day I will rule the world.

And there you have it.

And all this…this “mess”.

Is nothing compared to my middle name.

D-A-N-Y-E-L-L.

Mother! That is not how you spell Danielle!

Robert Long Owes Mr. Cercone a USB Flash Drive

2006-05-03T10:06:00.000-04:00

Punk, defined as, a young person, especially a member of a rebellious counterculture group, a punk rocker. “Punk, we didn’t call our self that, that’s the name the headlines gave us, because we of our wild culture.” As stated by Iggy pop in the film “History of rock and roll: Punk.”
Since punk originated in the mid 1970s the United States and the UK. It has under gone many divisions into smaller sub cultures from its already complex diverse culture. “Punk rock is what started it all” say some punks. While Iggy pop did say the head lines gave them the name punk others claim that it was coined by the band Suicide when the played a gig titled “a punk music mass.” The production and consumption of punk culture is an idea shared by most punks, its how punk scenes are generated. The main ideology of punk is a belief is one should maximize freedom and make the most out of a traditional restricted life style.
Punk in politics, when it comes to punks in politics the different sub cultures possess many different ideas. Some sub cultures stress the trend of anarchism, anti authority, anti racism, anti- capitalism, and anti-nationalism. A modern day punk band named Anti-flag believes in all of these. Others stress environmentalism, vegetarianism, veganism, and animal rights.
The punk fashion… High theatrical use of clothing, hairstyles, cosmetics, body modification, and jewelry. Hair is worn in spikes or cut to a Mohawk or unnatural shapes and colored with vibrant hues. Clothes might be written on with marker and defaced with paint; shirts are ripped and held together by safety pins. Also tight pants and converse. Some jewelry may consist of safety pins and or other sharp objects.
There are many sub cultures within punk. Some of them are Nazi-punk, death rock punk, hardcore punk, skate punk, crust punk, street punk, conservative punk, anarchy punk, Christian punk, queer core, and riot grrl.

To Face a Disgrace

2006-04-28T09:07:00.000-04:00

Christina Gray

“Damn you look good”, Mahki says to his reflection. I’m 5’11, 200 lbs., caramel complexion, long braids, pretty teeth, nice build. The ladies usually refer to me as “pretty boy Kye”. I look good everyday, but today I was killin’ it. I got the fresh braids, crispy jays, new wardrobe. I was fresh to death. I just coped a new whip this weekend too, so I’ma pull up in front of the school in style. “Man all them skeezers gon’ be on ma nut sack”, he says to himself while blowing kisses at the mirror. It was time to roll out.
It was a nice day outside. Birds were chirping. The sun was out. All that good shit. Perfect day to stunt. I was mad happy to go back to school. Man, wait till everybody see me in my black on black Lincoln Navigator with the 24 inch rims that ma pops got for me. Ever since momz put me out, I been livin' it up. Ma dad jus came up on some big money and he give me anything I ask for. Man, I never want to go back to that dumped. Shit, I’m tired of struggling’. I feel so bad for ma little brother and sister though. They shouldn’t have to live like that. Momz was never home when I was there and when she was, all she did was nag and complain about every fuckin’ thing. I know they in hell now that I’m gone. I miss them but I’m never going back there. When ma pops give me money, I hook them up wit a little somethin’. Leave it up to ma momz and they’ll be going’ to school looking’ like straight hobos. I went through that when I was younger. It definitely wasn’t a good time in my life, but it’s over now and I’ve let it go.
Anyways back to my day. Now I’m cruising down the strip wit ma windows rolled down checking’ out the ladies. They all was checking’ me out. The pretty, the sexy, the average, the ugly. They all was on ma jock. I felt like a king and the streets was ma castle. When I pulled up in front of the school, all eyes were on me. I was what you would call “that dude”. No one knew it was me who was in the truck, since my windows were rolled up and my tents were so dark. I knew the girls would be running’ up to me when I stepped out of ma ride. I didn’t want to rush it, so I just blasted Dem Franchise Boys. You could hear my beats from around the corner. “Lean with it, Rock with it” was playing’ and a lot of people were out there doing’ the dance. Before the song ended, I had to show them how to really do it. I jumped out with my “stunter shades on” and bust out with the dance I knew best. I heard a lot of “oooooooo’s” and “aaaaaaaahhhh’s”, or somethin’ like that. I heard my name like ten times and I seen about six girls walking’ my way. I finished dancing and leaned up against my ride.
“What’s poppin’ sexy?” a pretty one asked me.
“Shit, what’s good shorty”
“You”, she responded licking her lips seductively.
Her goonies were commenting but I didn’t hear exactly what they were saying.
“That's what's up” I responded, smiling to show off my “sexy dimples”
“Is that you?” she asked pointing at my ride.
“Yea, just a little somethin' somethin”
“Ain’t nothing little about your ride and you know it”
“Well you know I’m a big boy, and I mess with nothing but big thangs”, I grabbed my crotch a little to tease her.
“Ooooooo” I heard her goonies squeal.
“I feel you, so do you got a number for me cutie”
“For sure”
I said my number a loud knowing a few of her goonies would remember it in their minds and write it down later.
“Well I’ll be sure to get at you”
“Yea you do that ASAP”
I watched them walk away. She didn’t have the biggest butt in the world but I will be sure to do something about that real soon.
The day went by fast. I went cruising for a while, then I went ova my mans house to smoke a little, drink a little. I guess I kind of lost track of time, because when I was leaving out it was 2 o’ clock. Ma dad wasn’t gon’ say nothing to me but, I didn’t want to give him no reason not to give me my money tomorrow. So I’m driving up the strip and I see mad shorties on the corner, with their high heeled boots on and their mini skirts. As I stopped at a red light, one of the prostitutes start walking up to my car. She had a fat ass and she was kind of cute, but she looked mad old. I wasn’t gon’ give her no play but I was tryna see what she looked like. As she got closer I began to recognize her and I could tell she recognized me too.
“MOM!!!!!”
“MAHKI!”
As she began to talk, I pulled off. I was disgusted. I saw her reflection in my rear view mirror. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to yell at her, but before I could my foot was on the pedal. I don’t know how I can ever face her again.

by christina gray

Part 1 of my char story

2006-04-27T20:54:00.000-04:00

tired from doing government paper but i got this so far.

“Wake up already or your gonna miss the bus!” “I know, I know.” Obviously you don’t since it’s seven already.” “Seven? Oh crap” It was another morning of getting ready for school and rushing to catch the bus. I would somehow always have just enough time to get ready, as to get the maximum amount of sleep as possible as us teenagers need. I would hop on the bus and find a seat.

“Hey Val. Still going to bed late as usual?” “Yeah, I’ve been working on my song a lot lately; it’s just about ready. I just need a perfect ending to it now.” I was working on a song with my guitar for the past week and it’s near completion. Just a little needs an ending. “What kind of song is it anyway?” “The kind of song I want it to be.” I laughed it off. The bus driver had been going her usual pace of slow and occasionally cranking it up to the speed limit, but that only occurred when we went down hill and she was to lazy to step on the brake pedal.

“Why won’t you tell me what it’s about?” “Cuz, I don’t know, you’ll find out eventually though mark.” “Not at this rate, you never tell me about your musical workings. What’s to hide?” I secretly had a crush on him and was just waiting for the right moment to ask him out. I heard he had feelings for me to. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait.” Not much longer I hoped. “Well I will hopefully have it done in the next couple days. Can you wait that long?” “I guess. It had better be worth it though, or you’ll be sorry.” He said jokingly. He started waving his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Val, calling Valerie. Earth to Val.”

I had gotten lost in his golden brown hair just long enough to be perfectly spiked. And those eyes were to die for, those baby blue eyes. You could be lost in them for hours, yet I haven’t ever had the pleasure of doing so. “Oh, sorry.” “You’re blushing, what is it?” he asked. “Nothing” I replied. We were nearing the school and waiting to get off the bus. The smokers would head off campus across the street and have a smoke while the rest of us would stay warm inside the school. I had always wondered how smokers could stand outside during the winter. Don’t they get a little cold in 31-degree weather?
“Well, I’ll see you later I guess, you can tell me more about your song later.” “Okay, tootles.”

Character Sketch Part Two

2006-04-24T23:05:00.000-04:00

Now, i shouldn't have to repeat myself of what my character look like and what he was like.
But anyways Wayne as you know from part one of his life was a drug dealer. Wayne also dressed nice and always had alot of money, but until one day his friend started to notice something different about him. He realized that Wayne would also be broke and wasn't dressing like he used to (all G'd up). This is where the major problem starts. One day Wayne mind told him to test the drug he sold, which was crack. But on second thoughts Wayne kept saying yes to his first thought, but yea to his second thought. Before you could get his mind straight, he took a puff from the crack pipe. To hiself he said "It's all right, but it's not something I like". Little did he know, he became addicted from that one puff. The next day when he woke up, he started realizing that he was fiening for this drug, instead of selling it to other people and making money of them, he was busy smoking it all up his self and being broke. As months went by his hood friends started noticing that he Wayne was losing to much weight, skinny as a skeleton, his skin started looking all dark and dry, his clothes weren't clean, and shit neither was he. "Wayne" his friend Marvin said "What is wrong with you man?" and there was no response from Wayne. "Yo man, i think you been smoking that crack man, cuz our peoples said you ain't been making no sales" said Marvin. Wayne said "I am, it all started when i just took one hit and i ain't think i would become addicted to this shit, man help me, i don't like being this way" So Marvin checked Wayne into a half way house so he can seek help. For days, nights, weeks, months Wayne had withdrawals, but he finally pulled through and became the old Wayne again. Drug free, but not drug dealing nor gang banging free.

2006-04-24T22:10:00.000-04:00

It all happened so fast its had to recall it all. I remember seeing a deer run from the shoulder. I watched run from the right shoulder in to the on coming traffic. I wondered what is it doing? Is it that dum? I slowed down fearing that I'd be the one to hit the deer. A deer hit on a Thruway could cause a big traffic jamming problem. All of a sudden a Semi flew around me on the right side. I didn't knew he hadn't saw the deer and the minute he did see the deer it was about 5 yards away from hitting he truck. The driver swerved and hit the small car driven by a women in her 30's. I had just switched lanes to over hitting the deer and I was in the far left lane. The same lane as the women. When the truck hit the car it sent the car in the the cement barrier. I was going to fast and I couldn't turn or I would turned into the truck. I slambed in to the back of the woman's car.
The next thing I knew I was laying on a bed alone in a hospital room. I laid on my back looking up at the blank white ceiling. Lights were in rows across the ceiling. The walls of the room were half blue. The top half was an ugly cream color. The floors were tiled. They were almost the same shade of blue as the walls. I turned my head to the right. Though some blue blinds I could see people rushing by. Doctors, nurses, and regular people. I hated staying still I felt fine I wanted to get up and fine out what was going on. I wanted to doctor And that's just what I got. A doctor was at the door on the left side of the room. It was connected to another room vary similar to mine. I could hear him say something to the nurse about the women laying on the bed. I heard him say that the women was in a coma and would probably never come out of it.
The doctor came into my room and I could see x-ray sheets in his hand. He went behind me and out of view. I could hear him put the x-rays on the light box things so that he could see them better.
He stared to talk, "It looks like your arm is broken."
"Broken!?" Shit! I can't play football with a broken arm, knowing Coach Klein.
"Yes and you suffed a concussion as well in your car accident."
"When can I got home?"
"Well I have to keep your over night. Is there any one I can call?"
I laid still for a while reliving the horrific accident. Then I shook it off, closed my eyes and refocused on the doctor, "Yeah, my mom."
Then doctor left the room and within an hour my mom was running in the room, a few tears running down her face. She came over and hugged my head. I lay there with a splitting headache but I didn't tell her. I knew that I had scared her and she needed this moment for herself.
The next morning she came to pick me up. We drove home in silence and routinely I went to my bed and fell back on my bed. I figured that it probably wasn't a good idea to do that after I did it. I jerked my head and it felt like my head split open like a dropped pumpkin.
I went into the bathroom to get some aspirin. That was the first time I had seen my face since the accident. My deep blue once beautiful blues were now an icy light blue color. My long brown hair had dried blood in it. There was cuts and bruises all over on my face. My nose looked like a hockey players nose. I had a big gash on my cheek and it had been stiched with blue thread.
I turned away. I knew they I would heal but I felt like a monster. My once smooth clean shaved face would still contain the scars. The bruises would go away with out and sign there were there. I didn't want to show my face at school ever again. I walked back into my room and plopped back down on my bed forgetting about my head. I closed my eyes and was asleep in an seconds

The Life of Mia

2006-04-24T20:16:00.000-04:00

The Life of Mia

Mia is sitting on a folding chair with a faded green color on her driveway in front of her garage. The sun is falling down slowly behind a forest of palm trees in the west, and the cars are waiting for the red light to turn green by the crossing by the house next to hers. She’s been living by the crossing of Emerson Dr. and Jupiter Blvd. for about two years now. She couldn’t stand the coldness in New York, not just the weather but the people and atmosphere also. She realize though that moving yourself from one location to another doesn’t change your thoughts. It doesn’t change a thing. She’s still can’t become one with the rest of the world. Am I the only one who actually thinks? She’s wondering. The light turns green, and the engines on Emerson St. starts roaring while the cars on Jupiter Blvd. slows down and then stands motionless. She watches the peoples in the cars driving by. She wonders what their motivation is to go wherever they’re going. They look like fishes, following a stream, destination unknown, but since everyone else is going that way, they follow. But who are “everyone else”, and who are “they”? Who is leading the brainless horde of sheep? Someone had to be the first. Or are they leading each other in a confusing circle where the first one believes that the second one knows how to live at his potential and the second one believes the same thing about the first one? Or are everyone aware of that they are brain dead zombies with noting but dollar signs printed in the back of their eyes and just accept everything just as it is, just because it actually is as it is. Maybe they all are thinking the same thing I’m thinking about. Does that mean that I am a sheep too? Probably. I do a lot of thinking but there’s no action to it. But that should mean that I’m a critical sheep, and to be critical means not dumb enough to fall into the filled pit of denial and stupidity. Maybe I’m stupid to call my own people, myself stupid, because I’m not special. I’m am not some higher creature chosen by God to search for the truth. She sits up from her almost laying position on the chair and grab the rim of her jeans skirt and pull it down toward her knees. She looks down at a tarred hole on her left thigh. The puts her finger in it tries to pull out a loose tread in it. She pulls it off, take it up to her eyes and exanimate it. She moves her arm over the edge of the right side of the chair and release her grip. She watches the tread fall down on the concrete ground and nonchalant turn her head to watch the road again. A white Corvette with its window open is accelerating to beat the red light as the middle lamp is showing yellow. The high base is making the chrome on the car to vibrate. The shade is crawling down Mia’s cheeks and she’s trying get use to not to tense her muscles and squint with her eyes anymore. She leans back on the chair, tilt back her head and brush her fingers through her silk black hair, trying to get the hair off her eyes. A black infinity is turning from Jupiter Blvd. on to Emerson St. A pair of sunglasses are watching Mia from the inside of the windshield from the car. While the car turns, slowly, the eyes are fixed on Mia. She looks back, with a rejecting appearance. The car pass her and move on. What’s up with that? Why is all the guys so freaking obsessed by watching women bodies. Is it something they were born with, some biological urge to fuck everything with boobs and a vagina with their eyes. Maybe it is a survival instinct? The same instinct that makes wild animals be able to hunt for their prey without even being taught how to do it. The instinct that makes the birds fly hundreds of miles toward south in the fall and back again in spring. Does that men that the men on this planet really are fighting against their own instincts, since they actually only imagine having sex with us at many times and acting civilized because of the laws this country made. The laws the people made up. The laws that is based on the people’s morals. Moral. What is that anyway? Is that the little part in all of us that represent our uniqueness, or the soul as a lot of people calls it? Would that be a shorter word for “God’s influence”? So if you don’t believe in God, does that mean you don’t have any moral? I don’t believe, but I have morals. Since everyone has different kind of morals

does that mean that God have different influence on us, or is the soul the place where we store our points for whether we belong in heaven or in hell by gaining experience and interpretive it as we think is the right way, and if it is the way God believes is the right way we score a point. Mia jerks her head back. Her phone is ringing. She stands up, starts walking to the garage. It’s ringing again. She grabs the handle of the screen door that is keeping away not welcomed guests in her garage, and pulls it aside. A third signal is coming from the kitchen. Mia starts running. The one half of the garage is filled with junk. Broken chairs, boxes, dirty tiles, stuffed animals, skateboard wheels, cords, bricks, tarred screens, desks, cracked lamps, filthy car mats, things that a garage sale could never solve, only a curb. Mia runs through the hall in to the kitchen and grab the phone, hanging on the wall during its forth signal.
- Hello. She says, out of breath.
- What up looser? A high voice respond.
She could hear instantly that it was Jolene, her Hispanic friend that lives further down Emerson St. in the inner section of Palm Bay.
- The usual. What are you up to? Mia answers.
- Me, Steph and Roger are going to Cocao. You coming?
Mia turns around and look at the clock hanging above the kitchen table.
- Are you kiddin’ me? You know I’m working tomorrow.
- Common’ Mia. Screw job. Jolene says with her Spanish accent.
- It’s quarter after eight already, I gotta hit the sack by at least eleven.
- Don’t worry, me drive you home. You gotta come. Many nice boys over there.
Mia thinks for a while. She takes down her hand to her butt, grabs her panties from the outside of her skirt and pulls them to a more comfortable spot.
- You’re a fucking pain Jo.
- Yeah, yeah. Me pick you up in ten minutes. Ok?
- What ever. Mia answers.
- See you later.
- Yeah.
Mia slams the phone on its holder. Fucking donkey balls. I have to find something to wear. She runs in to the living room and in to her bed room, opening her closed and unzipping her skirt while she’s reaching for something that looks nice. She pulls down her skirt and kicks it away with her foot up on the bed. She grabs a hanger with a white top, takes it out and hangs it up on the closed door handle. She crosses her arms and grabs the left side of her black top with her right hand and the right side of the top with her left hand and pulls it up over her head. She throws the top on the bed. She’s looking for a pair of pants. She has a lot of pants in her closet. Wow, I’m more materialistic then I thought. Jesus, I could feed a small nation if I would sell all my clothes and use the money for food to the third world. I am an egoistic bastard. Not because I don’t do it, but because I don’t care. Well, this is not a good time to care about that now, hurry, hurry. Man, I’m evil. What the hell. What’s wrong with my conscience? Get out of my head just for a second, please. I got to get dressed. I think to much. Why do I think so much? Do everyone think as much as I do? Why the hell am I thinking about that I’m thinking to much. That’s like shoving food in your mouth because you feel bad because your eating to much. Well, not really. Why am I thinking so much about food. I really should eat something. Oh well, I don’t have time. Got to go. Mia hear a car pulling up on her driveway. She runs to the main door, looks it on the inside, walks out and close the door. She turns around, tilting her head back toward Jolene and Steph. They’re smiling back. The back windows are tinted black but she knows that Roger is in the back seat. She walks to the gray Toyota and opens the right back door.
- Hey girl! How you’re doin’? Steph screams out from the front seat.

At the same time Roger who sits on the left back seat yells out.
- Common’ baby, let’s go find some fine asses!
Roger wears a red and yellow striped scarf around his neck, a fitted maroon vest and tight dark blue jeans.
- Move it! I’m horny! Let’s go guy hunting! Roger screams.
Mia sits down on the right back seat.
- Chill Roger, I’m moving my fat ass as fast as I can! Mia replies.
- You might be slow, but I think that you butt is very attractive. I wish I had your ass. Roger says.
Stephanie turns her head to her right window.
- A real gentleman, isn’t he? She says.
- Hell yeah! Mia answer.
- Ready for Cocao Beach, girls? Jolene says while she’s backing out slowly waiting for one of the cars on the road to let her go.
- Fuck yeah! Roger screams with his high feminine voice.
Steph and I screams at the same time.
- Yeah!
- Let’s roll! Mia says.

Mia stumbles for the keys in her pocket while she’s waving slightly from side to side. She’s squinting with her eyes to better see the lock on her door. She lets her sight go from the door knob and turns her head slowly toward the horn sound from the car speeding up on Emerson St. from backing out from Mia’s driveway. Mia’s sight follows her own eyes like a shadow, a bit behind, but it follows. She waves and smiles silly to Steph who is driving Jolene’s Toyota while her and Roger are sleeping in the backseat, wasted. Stephanie is waving back and then drives away. Mia turns around with her eyes fixed on her door. She’s standing still for a while and disappears for a moment in her thoughtlessness.
- What am I doin’ again? . She’s mumbling to herself while she’s staring at her door handle, leaning forward, almost touching the door with her forehead.
- Oh, right. Keys. She answers to herself.
She takes up her hand from her pocket with the keys in it and lets her eyes rest on the silver colored key while it’s uniting itself with the keyhole. It’s clicking when the key enters the lock. She twist the key and pushes the door open. When she drags her right foot to walk in the door she hits the doorstep and falls in to the hall down on the floor. She’s laying on the cold tile ground, moves her hand and place it under her head. Her eyelids slowly falls down and everything turns black.

- What the fuck! What is the time!? Mia screams while she’s rapidly stands up in the hallway.
The room is moving around when she’s up on her feet. She stands still for a minute, tilts her head down towards the floor and holds her left hand over her eyes. It is still spinning. She removes her hand and let it fall down to the side of her waist. The sun rays lights up the couch and the floor in her living room that can be spotted from where she stands in the hall.
- Fuck! She’s says with a grumbling voice.
She rushes in through the hallway, in to her living room and in to the kitchen. She look at the clock on the wall. It’s nine thirty.
- Mother fucker! She yells out.
Mia looks at the counter, grab her car keys, and run into the garage. She runs into a cardboard box and falls on the hard concrete floor. She swears. She stands up quickly, run around the

front of the black Chevrolet Monte Carlo and opens the driver door. She jump in, puts in the keys in the starting engine and twist it around. She presses the garage opener on her visor and starts backing out.
- Common, common, let’s go! She’s mumbling at the door that slowly moves up.
Why does this happened to me? Fucking Jolene, why did I let her talk me in to this. I’m never going to drink again, or at least eat something before I go out. My boss is going to go ballistic. Ok, it’s not a big deal, just calm down. I am just a little late. I just blame it on the traffic, that always works. Hmm. I’ll get there in half an hour, well, if I speed up a little I might make it in twenty minutes. She backs out the car from the garage out on her driveway. The cars on Emerson St. are forming a non moving line far down the street waiting for the traffic light to turn green on the crossing by Mia’s house. She’s pressing the garage opener again and the wide, white plastic door moves steadily down.
- Common cars, move it! She’s yelling out.
She looks at the mirror right next to her head, moves her hand up and adjusts it. why can’t all these people stay home. Stay home with their families and spend their lives like they should. They only have one life are they going to throw that away by leaving their houses early every morning, do something they recent for seven hours, then go home, watch television, go to bed and then off away to work again. What the hell is up with all this money madness? They buy things that are produced to brake so they have to buy more, that are designed to be used up in shortest possible time period so the company that produces the stuff can earn more money and buy things for themselves that are designed to be replaced as soon as possible. What the hell is that kind of system about? Don’t the sheep realize that they just destroy for themselves? Why are everyone so blind? Because they accept it, because that’s the easiest way? Or is it because they don’t have a choice, since the world we live in is so fucked up and we’re all made us prisoners in our own society. The line is moving and Mia sees a space coming up further down the street.
- Yes baby, common, common. She says.
The last car before the gap passes by and Mia backs up quickly. The yellow light is coming up. She speeds up, look over her left shoulder and makes a U-turn. Finally on my way. She thinks. The digital green numbers on her dashboard shows 9:37.
- Ok. Let’s go now.
She’s letting her right hand off the wheel, moves it up to the mirror and twist it towards her. She looks into the reflection of her face, brush her fingers through her hair and shake the top to make it even messy. She looks on the road, hit the brakes when she sees the red back light of the car in front of her glow up. She jerks forward.
- What the fuck is your problem!? She screams to the stranger that is unknown about the annoyed girl in the black Monte Carlo behind her.
Mia speeds up, put the left blinker on and passes the small, dark blue car she don’t know the type of. She turns her head while she’s side by side with the car. And old, gray haired woman that barely can reach up to the window is sitting hunched over the wheel. Don’t these people know when it’s time to visit a senior complex, or what? Mia thinks to herself. Stupid old lady. Shouldn’t wisdom come with age, since experience comes with age and with experience comes knowledge. But not many old people are very swift. Is that a reaction of their incapability to function as they used to? Is all the pills they’re taking? Is it their memory that fails them and makes many of their experiences useless, or is it just not true that wisdom comes with age? Does it depend on what kind of experience they’ve been exposed to or is it how they store their experience with their morals? But the moral should change with their experience, right? Or is the experiences interpreted differently because of their morals? Maybe there is no such thing as a perfect moral. Maybe all morals are the right ones, since the

individuals believe that their beliefs and ethic is the right one and that makes them the right one for them, and there are really nothing else that matters then what’s right for the individual since then their own life. Their own world they live in, the only world that actually matters. The lights by the crossing of Emerson St. and Minton Rd. turns red and Mia slows down and eventually stands still.
- Jesus Christ! She yells out.
She looks at the clock on the dashboard. It’s 9:45.
- Let’s see some green now baby, common. She’s flirting with the stoplight.
A man in the car in the lane next to her is watching her. Mia glances at him. His skin has a brown hue from tanning to much. He moves his sunglasses down to his nose tip and bend his head forward. Mia ignores him. He looks old. The gray roots is visible under his brown dyed greasy hair. The cars on Minton Rd. stands still. Mia gets green light. She speeds up rapidly to get away from the old man in his big truck with a dusty look from all the days he didn’t wash his car.
After a ten minute driving, fifteen miles an hour above the speed limit she turns in to the IHOP building by Minton Rd. and New Haven Ave. She parks her car in the back by the employees parking lot. Mia walks out of the car and the heat from the sun rays strikes her. She walks toward the backdoor preparing her speech of excuse in her head.

- …and do you know what she said? Steph is finishing her story.
- No, what did she say? Mia said while they were walking out of the backdoor of IHOP towards their cars.
- If you don’t give me a table for one the next five minutes I’m going to personally shove my cane up your supervisor ass so far that he’s going to cough up splinters for a month!
Steph is laughing.
- Can you believe that? A eighty years old som, lady with an attitude like a beast! Man, that was fun as hell. Steph continues.
- Are you serious? That’s fucking crazy! Mia says giggling.
Mia and Stephanie stops.
- Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow, not three hours late this time. Steph says laughing.
- Shut up! It’s your fault and you know it! just because you’re a fucking cyborg doesn’t mean that I’m freakin’ Swartzenegger! Mia replies with a sarcastic tone.
- What ever you say darling. See ya! Steph says while she’s walking to her car.
- See ya Arnold!
Mia walks to her car. The sun warming up her clothes and she misses the air condition in IHOP, but she’s relived that she finally can go home after this stressful day. Her boss was bitching at her and she had to work like a slave to make up for the hours she missed. Mia reaches for the car keys in her pocket. She push the unlock button on the electronic key in her pocket and the car beeps twice and blinking its lights. She walks over to the driver seat door. Stephanie is driving passed her and sound the horn. Mia jerks backwards, turn her head and gives Steph her finger. Stephanie laughs in her car and wave to her and moving on to New Haven Ave. Mia gets in her car. Its boiling inside the car. Mia puts her hand on the wheel but pulls it away quickly.
- Damn, that’s hot! She screams to herself.
She starts the car and put her finger tips gently on the steering wheel. She puts the car in reverse and backs out of her parking space. She starts rolling down to Minton Rd. and stops to wait for a gap between all the bypassing cars.

A number of red lights later she finally pulls in on her driveway. She press the garage opener on her visor and moves slowly with her Monte Carlo in to the delightful shade. She kills the car engine, walk out of the car and close the door. While she’s walking towards the door in to her house she sees the box laying in the path that she fell over earlier that day. She bends over, takes it up and throws it in to a corner. I really should clean up this mess someday she thinks to herself. Promises to yourself are the easiest ones to brake she thinks. She walks in the house and close the door after her.
Hours pass and when the sun is on its way down Mia finds herself back where she belongs. In her green folding chair sitting on her driveway watching the cars go by on Minton Rd. and Jupiter Blvd. I could sit out her forever. To watch the burning sun be replaced by the bright moon, and sense the day turn into night. To feel the breeze sweep through my naked arms and listen to the crickets play in the grass. Mia is leaning back, letting her head lay freely in the air over the edge of the back of the chair. She sky is going from a purple, yellowish color in the west to a dark blue hue in the middle of the giant heaven full of air and freshness. She’s watching an early bright white dot alone in the colossal universe glowing back at her. It makes you feel so small, Mia’s thinking. It’s like nothing matters down here when you compare it to the greatness of the space around us without end and the eternity of time passing. We believe that we are the superior in the world. We weren’t made for the world, the world was made for us. That can’t be. Just because the overgrown reptiles who was walking the earth two hundred millions years ago didn’t have a very large brain doesn’t mean that they doesn’t count. We’ve been around for ten thousand years. Mia pulls her head forward, reach for her cell phone in her pocket. She takes it up, let her hand rest on her lap with the Nokia in her hand. Menu, messages, call log, profiles, settings, gallery, organizer, games, extras. She presses select. Calculator, select. One, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero. Star, star, star, star, two, five, zero. Let’s see. Six zeroes. Zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, select, equal, select. 0.00004 percent. Wow. Mia puts down the cell phone in her pocket, leans back her head and look up to the sky. That’s means that our people has been around for almost no time at all. We are barely an era. We are not even in the beginning of the beginning of an culture. We are just a tiny part of the evolution, still developing against the nature’s laws, the survival of the fittest. We’ve created our own nature. The nature of the new civilization. A nature where materialistic possessions are the essential survival for the fresh race of ours. It’s a time when the need to staying alive is not longer an issue, but obtaining respect. But when we used up all the substances that takes millions of years for the earth to produce, and when we send out all our recyclable materials out in space, when we chopped down the forests, then the only skills that will count is the survival instinct. An instinct that will be forgotten in our cozy, convenient society a long time ago. The traffic light on Emerson St. is turning red and the cars stops. Mia feels peace. She feels harmony in the cars roaring in the warm spring night. She feels freedom on her driveway falling deep in her own thought, the only part of her that no one can touch. She smiles, cross her arms and leans back in a comfortable position. Wonder if it matters, all the actions I’ve made during my life, good or bad. All people that influenced me and that I’ve given influence to. All my thoughts I’ve ever had. Is it all documented somewhere. Is someone watching me right now, hearing my thoughts? That would be embarrassing, but still I would feel honored. That would be a proof of my existence. It would make me immortal. Even when my body is for long gone, the inner me will forever be alive. The life of Mia.

2006-04-24T11:13:00.000-04:00

Jerrod

It was the last day before Easter break, it was 8th period study hall. kim was sitting with the groups of her closest friends. Just like how it always has been since the beginning of the year. Stephanie, Mary and her best friend Sam, Kim's good friends. They were all talking about what they were going to do over break.
Stephanie is the type of girl how she has her parents waiting on her because she is the only child. So in some cases thinks that things revolve around her. She is tall, with long brown hair and brown eyes to match. She is a very out going person and doesn't care about what she says.
Stephanie- My family and I are going to Florida and staying with my grandparents. Oh my god it is always fun. We always go shopping, but that's a given. My grandparents are very wealthy my grandpa had his own business, a family restaurant. He made lots of money and made even more when he sold it. The food they make is so good. So the best part I would say is the great cooking and the shopping.
Mary is a very pretty girl. She has blonde hair and blue eyes. Out of everyone in the group she is the slowest. The girls love to play jokes on her, because she of course will fall for them. But she is a very caring, unselfish person.
Mary- I wish I could go to Florida too, especially to meet your grandparents, Stephanie. But where my family and I are going is to North Carolina. We go there every year and stay at my aunt Jill and uncle Bill's house. Well most of my family lives down there. So we have a large family picnic. It is always so much fun. Play games and always have the annual family volleyball tourney. Each family has 3 people on the team and it is always me, my dorky brother tom, and my dad. I think we have only one once but it is always fun.
Stephanie-wow you are actually coordinated enough to play volleyball, I thought you'd be the goofy mascot (and they all laugh).
Mary- Shut up Sheph!
Sam is Kim's best friend they talk all day everyday. Sam is exactly like Kim except her hair is long and black and she has brown eyes. She is medium height, skinny. Out of all the girls she has the jealous boyfriend named Brandon. They almost always argue about everything and yet there have been together on and off for 1 year.
Sam- well my parents are staying home for break. This is the first time ever because my dad is getting surgery on his foot so it heals better. But me on the other hand I am going to spend my break Mexico with Brandon.
But almost immediately they say you already know what is going to happen. You guys are going to fight so you would be better off breaking up with him and staying home with your family.
Sam- well so what if we fight, I mean we have lasted for 1 year so obviously there must be more than just fighting.
Kim- well we think that it isn't worth the aggravation to go throughout all that fighting.
Sam is getting sort of pissed and doesn't say anything for a minute, and then
Sam-well can I continue now that you guys said what you needed to say. Well we are going to Mexico, her tone is aggravated like she is trying to show up her friends because she has a boyfriend. And we are going with is Mother and Father. I bet that Brandon will do something sweet, like dinner on the beach kind of thing.
Group- they laugh but in a good way
Sam- well that would be so sweet for our 1 year ann.
Stephanie- yea but not with that asshole and (she laughs)
Sam- asshole? he isn't a asshole, he is very nice and sweet even though we have our heated fights.
Kim intervenes and wants to tell what she is doing over the break. Kim has blonde hair and blue eyes like Mary. She is very smart and loves to have fun. She is athletic body type, medium height, smaller than Stephanie. She plays softball for school and loves to walk her golden retriever Max. Out of everyone in the group she is the person you go to with a problem, because she loves to help and keeps it between you and her.
Kim- well my parents and I including my bro Todd are staying home. Because we always leave the house all the time and thought it would be nice to relax. But I'm sure there are going to be a lot of parties that people are going to throw. So I guess it wont be all that bad.
Sam- yea Tim is throwing a party at his house tomorrow cause his parents are leaving for Colorado to visit there oldest son Jake.
Steph- yea I heard about that he is inviting everyone that isn't leaving for vacation.
Mary-wait what, she is to busy looking out the window at the birds sitting on one of the branches.
Steph- doesn't surprise me that you don't know what's going on, your so blonde
Mary- eww well.......So, shut up steph
Sam,Steph,Kim-laugh because Mary seemed like she might have been trying to think of a come back to steph but got lost amongst the birds sitting on the branch in head.
Kim- guys stop picking on her, and she smiles. Well I might actually just go to that party tomorrow, because I don't think I will be doing anything as it is.
The bell rings and they all say goodbye and give each other hugs and wish that their vacations be fun and safe.
Kim and Sam go to kim's locker and then head out the double doors to the parking lot, where kim parked her car they get in for the 5 minute drive to drop Sam off at home they do there goodbyes again. Sam gets out and goes into the house.
Kim gets home and sees her dad washing the forest green Avalanche. Her father says hi and asked her how her day was
Kim- fine dad how was yours
Dad- Mine was pretty good
Dad- what are you doing tonight?
Kim- ummm, nothing. but tomorrow is it ok if I go to a party.
Dad- where and whos house?
Kim- Tim, you know tim her lives a couple streets away
Dad- oh ok, well as long as you don't drive home drunk.
Kim- Dad you know I know better!
Dad- I know but I am the parent.
Max is chewing his bone until he see's Kim coming up the walkway. Max gets up jolts towards Kim and runs around her a few times and licks her hands. She wipes the drool off on her leg.Todd is just walking out the door as Max and Kim were walking in.
Kim- where are you going?
Todd- staying at my friend Dan's house.
Her mom was making a casorol, Kim went by and smelled it and already knew that it was a casorol, I hate this. We should go out to eat. She tries really hard to convience her to go out to eat. But her mom tells her I made a casorol, Kim ughh at the thought that they had to eat that.
Kim- well I am going upstairs to listen to music and possible fall asleep.
Mom- ok I will call you when dinner is ready.
Kim- thats what I am afraid of!
Mom- oh shut up it isn't all that bad
Max is laying down and after Kims mom says that he barks
Kim- said see he agrees
Her mom grabs Max's face sort of like what you do to a really cute little kid. And she says
Mom- oh Max loves mom's cooking doesn't he!
Max then pulls his face away and runs outside.
Kim is upstairs laying on her bed listening to Fall Out Boy and slowly passes out. About 45 minutes later Her mom calls for her to eat dinner. Kim gets up and heads down the hallway and down the stairs into the kitchen and to the dining room where the casorol is wating.
Kim sits and waits for the casorol to be passed out to everyone. Max is under the table, Kim gets her piece and takes a little bit at a time and gives it to max. Until her mom catches her then she has to eat what's left.
She then goes up stairs after doing dishes and saying good night to her parents, and goes to bed and sleeps. Max jumps on the edge of the bed and falls asleep as well.
It's morning the day of Tims party. She goes down stairs and grabs a bowl spoon and a box of Lucky Charms and the milk. She is sitting at the table in which her Dad and Mom are sitting, reading there favorite parts of the paper. She watches t.v. for a while . She then heads up stairs and gets ready, comes down and looks at the clock. The party was at 9:00 and it was 7:30 so she takes Max for a walk and wonders how her friends vacations are going. By the time she gets back home it is 8:45. Kim says goodbye to her parents kissed her dad and says she loves them and she would be back soon. They said that they are going out so they will put the key under the mat. She heads out the down and to Tims house. She arrives and after about an hour and half starts playin pong and funnels a hefty amount of beers, before she she decides to leave. As she walks out the door.
Tim- Hey where are you going?
Kim- home
Tim- I'll give you a ride.
Kim- No thats ok you drank just as much as I did and judging by the way you are walking you drunk (slurring most of what she is saying)
Tim- hey I am not drunk I am giving you a ride whether you like it or not, so get in.
The drive was good and he didn't hit anything and kim was singing along to the radio. Tim smiled and looked at her, when he looked in front he drove through the red light of him he hit a car. The red dodge Stratus that Tim and Kim were in collided with a Forest green Avalanche. The front of the Red car hit the driver side door. Unfortunaltly the driver was her father who died before the ambulance even came, her mom had with a few bumps and bruises and a broken arm, but was so upset about her husband. Tim had a few cuts and brusies and was arressted for driving intoxicated. But Kim not only had cuts and bruises but lost her father and a night that she would problably never forget.

Jerrod

Summer Time Laziness (Character Story)

2006-04-23T22:05:00.000-04:00

Sorry it's a bit late, but after the wisdom teeth surgery on Monday, I haven't been really able up to doing much.

“I don’t know what to do,” Reina said.
“Well, you better do something. Maybe get a job. Yeah, why don’ you start there and get a god damned job?” her father said.
“Maybe I will, just to show you I’m not just a pretty face.”
But it almost seemed like she was. Most people viewed her as one of the prettier girls. It was all enhanced by her natural looks.
Her name was Reina. She had that girl next door look, but with a sassy boundary that no one could ever cross. With her height she could’ve been a basketball player, but with her sense of humor, she could’ve also been a comedian.
It was mid-summer and Reina took on the habit of lying around doing nothing in the heat. If she wasn’t in the pool tanning, she was on a lawn chair doing the same. Her hair was a dark shade of brown at the end of the school year, but with all the laying in the sun, it turned to a creamy, coffee with cream-like color. The dark red and blonde streaks were bleached lighter and left her hair almost glowing.
At nights she would hit the mall with her friends. She would either be shopping for clothes, shopping for perfume, going for sales and seeing movies.
“It feels like I have 100 eyes watching me,” she said to one of her friends the one night.
“You probably do, guys seem to lose their sense of intelligence around you, get stupid and drool,” Jenn said.
“Dad wants me to get a job. I don’t WANT a job, but I need money. Who do you think will hire me?”
“Ha… I mean, I don’t know. Maybe some place that’s low on staff and desperate?”
Reina didn’t seem to approve of the comment.
“Well, at least I’m not working at a place that hires illegal immigrants.”
“Maybe you should apply at Old Navy. I know a friend of mine who works there. He’s been there for almost a year and they might even consider hiring you.”
“Errr… well… maybe. Let’s see.”
Reina and Jenn proceeded to the Old Navy in the mall. The summer clothing line was in its third phase. The store was moderately clean due to a lack of customers at the time. Upon entering, Jenn saw Dan at the registers and yelled.
“HI DAN!!!” Jenn said, surprising Dan.
Dan waved back in a startled way. Reina’s face was in a contortion. She was a bit surprised Jenn yelled out that loud.
“Heyya Dan, how’s it goin’? Reina would like an application. Can you get one for us?”
“The application process has changed though. We unfortunately don’t do paper applications anymore, but what we do now is either online or over the phone. So if you’d like to take this card with the instructions, you can complete it tonight and within 24 to 48 hours, your application will go into the system,” Dan completed.
“That’s fine though. Thank you,” Reina said leaving the store.
“See that wasn’t so bad. Now, the hard part is you’ll have to go home and input your information.”
“I don’t think it’ll be THAT hard. I think I’ll just take it home and do it now so I don’t forget.”
“Okay, I think I’ll head home anyway. It’s almost 9 and I’m going out tonight with a few friends. Do you wanna come?”
“Nah, Jenn. I’m tired. I need to do this. I have SUCH a craving for a Whopper Jr. though. Oooohh myyy goddd, that sounds sooo good now.”
“Umm, Reina, don’t have an orgasm.”
“Oh, right. Ok, well, I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
Reina went and typed in the website it said on the card on her computer. Some questions popped up she wasn’t sure of.
“References, address, social security number, PAST WORK EXPERIENCES?! Are they kidding?”
Fortunately, Reina made it through the entire application just before midnight.
“Ugh, the things they want to know about you.” She mumbled in agony.
She stumbled into her double bed. She sank comfortably into the mattress as it was no other than a Sealey.
For the next two days, Reina was nervous that her application might not be accepted. Her father frequently realized that she was throwing her face into her hands as well as her leg shaking near uncontrollably.
“Are you ok Reina?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little nervous. I put an application in at the mall. Old Navy I guess, but it was Jenn’s idea.”
“Wh-wh-wwwaitt? A j-job application? Since when?”
“I put it in two days ago. One of the associates Jenn knows says it should be in there 24-48 hours after I submit it, but I’m REALLY worried about it. Ehhhh.”
Another day went by with the same jitters. Reina, uncharacteristically, skipped two days of being in the sun. The job seemed to eat at her in her sleep now.
That third day, Reina received a call.
“Hi can I speak to Reina please?” the voice on the phone said.
“Yeah this is her.”
“Hi, yeah I’m calling from the Old Navy in which you applied at. My name is Drew and we reviewed your information and we would like for you to come in for an interview sometime within the next two days.”
Overcome with excitement, but at the same time, being scared, she screamed out.
“YES!”
“Is everything all right in here?” Her father poked in.
“Yeah, they want an interview with me,” she said to her father returning to the manager, “yes can I come in tomorrow? I’m free pretty much all day.”
“How ‘bout we put ya in for 1 o’ clock. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good. Thank you Drew.”
“No problem, we’ll hopefully see you tomorrow.”
Reina hung up and twirled herself as if she were a groom’s partner. In the process she lost control of her actions and fell over a chair that was in the surrounding room.
“What did I say dad? I TOLD YOU! I told you I could do it,” she said still recovering from her freak fall.
“Well we’ll just have to see how the result is. Better or worse, but hopefully better. At least now I won’t feel uncomfortable about getting a tan in my own backyard because you won’t be laying there as much.”

Maris's creative story

2006-04-23T22:03:00.000-04:00

Today was Dylan's big game. It was his last hockey game and it was against his rival school Maryvale. He was the best one on his team, always scored the most goals. Dylan was very athletic, tall, skinny brown hair, blue eyes. Girl's always liked Dylan, but Dylan was always worried about school and sports. The night before his father promised he would make this game. His father was a lawyer and was always busy, never had time to go to any of dylan's games. This upset Dylan, because his father was his role model, and Dylan wanted to show his father how talented he was.The team was in the locker room, and Dylan just kept thinking how excited he was that his dad was finally going to come to his game. They all got there skates on and went on the ice and warmed up. Dylan's dad was still not there, Dylan had hope and thought he will be here, he promised. It's the second period and of course Central is crushing Maryvale like always, but dylan's dad is not there still. His coach knows there is something wrong with Dylan and pulls him of the ice."what's wrong Dylan?"Dylan can't help to bust out in tear's, he couldn't keep it in anymore."My dad said he would be here tonight, and he's still not here.""IM sure he will be here soon if he promised.""I know but it's already the second period and this game means a lot to me."" I understand how you feel, but don't let it bring you down if this means a lot to you then do what you feel is right.Dylan goes back out on the ice, he plays like always Awesome. The third period has just end, his father never showed. As all the other teammates celebrated, Dylan just went into the locker room. He felt like he didn't matter, even though he was the best out there.Dylan went home, his father wasn't home. He just went to bed so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore. When he woke up, he went into the kitchen and his dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. His dad didn't even ask about the game, did he even care? Dylan walked out the door and promised himself he would never do that to his kids.

Written by:Maris

Character Story

2006-04-23T16:34:00.000-04:00

The coach blew the whistle. "Alright people, swim a 500 cool down then go in and get dressed. Be back here tomorrow at 2pm sharp to work on your stroke for the state meet in 2 weeks." Tom and Pete raced back to the end of the pool. Tom, being very competitve, swimming basically his entire life, obviously won. However, he had never made it to state finals, until this year. He was always seconds short. But this year he would finally go. Tom was tall, about 5'9, skinny, but athletic skinny, not bone skinny, with short brown hair and hazel eyes. His muscles were very defined with barely any fat surrounding them. Pete was opposite Tom. He was shorter, about 5'6, had a husky build, but still fast in the water, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had muscles, but most were hidden. Tom and Pete have been friends almost their entire lives. They met in the 2nd grade and have been friends ever since someone more popular was picking on Pete for being fat. Tom stood up to him and kicked him. They introduced themselves and were friends ever since.

After they both got out of the water and dried off, they went into the locker room and were talking about a party they were both going to. "Dude it going to be so fun. I heard it's supposed to be the best party yet. Everyone is going." Tom said. "Yea well maybe it will be fun for you because everyone likes you. I don't have as many friends as you do." Pete said. "Don't worry it'll be fine. I'll pick you up after I get out of work at 6. We can get ready, then go together." "Alright that sounds good."

Tom worked as a cashier at Tops. He didn't start too long ago, but likes the job. He's made a few new friends and even works with a few people from school. Finally it was 6:00. Time to go home. Tom went into the break room, unlocked his locker, grabbed his clothes, and walked out to his black 2001 mustang. He called Pete and told him he would be over in about 15 minutes. When Tom arrived he grabbed his stuff and met Pete inside. They got dressed and were ready to go.

"Relax, it'll be alright, you know everyone there." "I'm fine, im not stressing over it." By the time they got to the party, cars were parked all the way down the street. After going around the block a few times, they finally found a spot. They walked to the party and there were people outside as well as inside. Many people were already drunk and acting stupid. "Ah, lets go inside and see what's going on." "Ok sounds good." "Hey Mark, Joe, how's it going?" "Hey guys, not too bad, just got here a little while ago. Drinks are in the kitchen around the corner. Take what you want." "Thanks man." They walked into the kitchen, grabbed a cup from the stack on the counter and poured some beer. They met up with Mark and Joe again in the living room and started talking. The time was flying and the beer was flowing. Before they knew it, Tom looked at his watch and it was 1am. Pete was supposed to be home at 12. "Hey man want me to take you home?" "Yea i guess so before my mom see's if im home yet and get worried." "Alright sounds good. Mark i'll be back in a little while." "Alright sounds good man." Pete was nervous about getting in the car with Tom. Luckily he didn't live too far, so he wasn't too worried. "Tom are you gonna be ok to drive?" "Yea no prob."
They got into the car. Pete made sure his seat belt was securly fastened. They started on their way and surprisingly, Tom wasn't driving half bad. Almost better then normal. When they reached Pete's house, his lights were out. "Good parents are sleeping, they didn't check if i was home then. Thanks man i'll see ya tomorrow at practice." "Ok sure thing. I'll be here around 2 to pick you up." "Ok sounds good. I'll talk to ya later." Tom left and went back to the party. He met up again with Mark and Joe and grabbed another drink. It wasn't as crowded as it was earlier. Most of the people were leaving now. Everyone could fit inside, but the party was still going. It was about 3am now. "Hey I think i'm going to get going now." "I don't think you should drive man. You can stay here the night. I have a spare room upstairs." "Alright thanks man." "Sure no sweat."
Tom walked upstairs to the spare room. On his way up the stairs, he started getting dizzy and seeing double. He had way too much to drink. He finally found the room and landed on the bed. As soon as he hit the bed, he was out.
Tom awoke the next morning on the floor. The sun was shining in the room. He looked at his watch and it was 3pm. He missed practice. He couldn't believe he was so stupid and careless. He got up right away and tried to remember last night and how he got in the room. He put pieces together and filled in the rest. He left the house and raced to school. "Coach, i'm so sorry i missed practice. I had an accident last night and didn't realize what time it was." "Tom, I told you yesterday 2pm sharp, no excuses. The guys told me about last night. The accident was involving you and only you. No showing up for practices equals no swimming in the finals. I'm sorry Tom, but you did this to yourself." "But Coach!" "No excuses, i'm through. Now if you would leave, I have a team to run." Tom saw Pete in the water. He walked away. As he was walking out, Pete yelled after him. "I didn't say anything. Mark told coach. He knew that if you drank you wouldn't show up to practice. This way he could come in first at States." "So that is why he kept giving me those drinks. I knew he was up to something." "Hey man don't worry about it. Everything will be fine." "Yea easy for you since your still in the meet. But i'm gonna get going. I will talk to you later." "Ok sounds good. By the way your mom called my house today and wondered where you were and i told her you slept over my house and you were still asleep." "Thanks man. I can always count on you." "Hey that's what best friends are for."

Tom left and went home and up to his room to lay down. He thought about what he had done. How could he be so stupid. "I waited so long to achieve my dream and here I finally have it and blow it." As the next week went by, I went by the pool everyday and wondered how everything was going, wishing that I could still swim. The time came for finals. They were held downtown. I decided to go and support my team. The teams were good. Finally we were up. Pete and Mark against 2 guys from West Seneca. "Swimmers, up on the block, take your mark, BOOM!" The gun was fired and the swimmers raced through the water. Pete was ahead by a few strokes. "GO PETE!" I was screaming and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I know Pete was fast, but I didn't know that he was as fast as Mark was. These past few weeks must have really helped him on his stroke. 1 lap to go. "Come on Pete! You can do it!" Pete had touched the wall 1st, then Mark 2nd without more than a second passing. "Ya Pete!" Pete looked my way and he saw my face with a huge smile on it. Mark looked mad that he had lost, but still happy he had come in 2nd. After the meet, I met up with Pete. "Hey man, you swam awesome out there! Way to go!" "Thanks. I worked with the coach everyday after practice was over to work harder on my stroke. I didn't want anyone else to know since they might think I was a bigger loser than I already am. I guess it really paid off." "Hey, your not a loser. I'm the loser for not being able to swim today. But I'm not even worrying about it because i had a much better time watching you beat Mark. He deserved it and i'm glad you did it. I guess next year will be a much better year for me. I will work harder on my stroke and get faster. Next year will be my year."

my story

2006-04-23T00:17:00.000-04:00

i know it's considered late and i'm sorry. i also feel bad since i didn't include a lot of the details i had in my character sketch but i tried. i don't know, i hope it's not THAT bad.

“Peter, can you eat your eggs and stop shaking your feet? The whole table’s moving,”
“I don’t eat eggs.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like to eat things that are considered a pre-fetus,”
“Peter that’s disgusting,”
“Well, you asked.”

“I hate school.” Jodie Mann, Pete’s best friend, stated as they walked through the halls.
“So do I.” Actually, he really didn’t but he would never admit that, even to Jodie. Although school did prove to be annoying at times because of the work and the assholes who made fun of both of them, he liked it. Because it got him out of his house. Because at his house there was his mom. Because his mom always found something wrong with him.
He didn’t mind his dad too much and his sister Cynthia was away at college but his mom was the one who ‘wore the pants in the family’, or Express jeans to be exact. She made the rules and set the standards for her children and Pete was pretty much the opposite of these.
Despite her ideas of what was wrong or right and acceptable or not, Pete would never raise his voice to her. Sure, he could be sarcastic at times but he was always gentle. He almost had this fear that if he did, she would break into a million pieces like glass because she looked so dainty and pretty. In fact, he hated to admit that he had a “hot mom”, not that he thought so but because he heard the other guys often refer to her as a “MILF”. This disgusted him so bad that along with the fact that he was nerdy and people thought he was gay, his only friend was a girl because if he had guy friends, they’d probably just try to make a pass at his mom.
“Hey, it’s Jo the man and Pete the fag,” said one of those arrogant guys who obviously fake-baked and wore pink because it was the style at the time.
“Go kill yourself,” Jodie called back.
“Jo, you can’t say that kind of stuff here,” Pete warned her quietly.
“He had it comin’.” She said with a wicked grin that made him glad he had a friend like her.

“Your report card came today,”
“That’s nice.”
“You’re failing biology…again,”
“If we didn’t have to dissect an innocent frog then maybe I wouldn’t have to refuse doing the lab and I would pass for once,”
“It’s just a frog, Peter,”
“It’s just a grade, mom,”
“Peter, where are you going?”
“Me and Jo are riding our bikes to the thrift store.”
“First of all, we’re not so poor that you have to shop at one of those stores and second of all, when are you going to throw that thing out and get your license?”
“Betty? I can’t throw her out for a car that only creates more pollution. You should know this by now,”
“Peter, sometimes I’m not sure if you’re really my son,”
“I know.”

Pete was rifling through the pants rack when he felt something tap his shoulder.
“Yo ho ho!” Jodie half-yelled, showing off a ratty eye patch she found and two plastic swords. She tossed one to him and they started dueling in the little aisle making random pirate noises.
Pete knew Jodie was nothing like his sister but all at once he couldn’t help thinking of Cynthia and how they were as little kids. They used to swordfight all the time, but with things found around the house like rulers or empty pop bottles. Their favorite movie was Peter Pan and they would take turns in who was playing Peter Pan or Captain Hook and then just have these fake fights until one of them usually knocked down something important. Mom would scold them and then when she was out of hearing, they fell to giggling over their mistake.
Those were the good old days, before Cynthia went off to high school, earned her good grades and got into an impressive college, leaving Pete to remember these things like he was doing now.

Cynthia was sitting at the table when he came home.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,”
She saw his confused face and said, “It’s spring break.”
Mom and dad entered the kitchen with happy faces. “Oh Peter, look, Cynthia’s home!”
“I noticed.”
“So, Pete, what’d you buy?” Cynthia asked, sensing tension between her brother and parents. He looked down at the bag he was holding and slowly took out a pair of brown and green plaid golf pants.
“Peter, those are…hideous,” his mom said while trying to stifle a laugh.
“Yeah well I’m pretty ugly too so I guess it all matches nicely.”

Pete was sitting on his bed watching his two gray rats play on the blankets when his mom came in.
“I think we need to talk,” she said.
“Okay.”
“Can you put those rodents away first? They’re so—“
“So what, mom? So typical of me to have?” Pete really loved his rats and was getting a little sick of his mom’s attitude towards him and what he loved.
“Peter, you know that’s not what I mean at all,”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I just…” here she paused and let out a little sigh. “I just wonder why you’re not more like your sister.”
The words took time to register and then Pete wasn’t aware of anything; he just snapped.
“Well I give you all of my apologies that your son is a total failure at everything he does but no one’s perfect, okay?!”
“Peter, I understand no one’s perfect but honestly, some things you do and wear are a little…odd. It’s getting so bad that some of our neighbors and even family members are asking me if you’re—“ she paused again and said quietly, “gay.”
He couldn’t take it anymore. He knew he was about to let it all out and he couldn’t care less if his mom shattered.
“Gay? You can’t even say it, can you? No I’m not gay, but would you rather have me be that way so you can blame all of my fucking faults on it? ‘Oh, Stacey, I know it’s horrible that he’s failing and he has one friend and he doesn’t eat meat and he rides a bike but it’s because he’s gay!’”
“Peter, I—“
“You what? What can you possibly say that will fix everything now? Why can’t you just be happy with who I am for once in your life?”
With that, he left his mom paralyzed with shock on his bed as he quickly put his rats in the cage, stormed through the house and slammed the front door on his way out.
He grabbed his bike lying against the side of the house and started pedaling toward an unknown destination. He rode past the orange streetlights and the neon signs of bars until he realized he was headed in the direction of the local park. He sped up, squeezed the brake levers when he was near the swing set in the playground, and ran to them like a little boy.Pete pumped his legs until he rose higher and higher, using his anger to fuel his swinging speed. Once he felt slightly better he stopped pumping and let the swing die down until it was still again, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself cry.

Nikki

2006-04-22T13:24:00.000-04:00

It was 1988 and Nikki had just turned 21. the 80's eara was in full swing even at collage where Nikki went. Every one was drinking and smoking pot every where i guess it was the "IN" thing to do. Nikki was taking criminal Justice at Florida state university, this was party central. More drugs and booze flowed throug the hall then anything. Nikki had alot of friends at school, she was a tall atractive women with silky brown hair and beautiful big brown eyes. Everyone liked her, but she only had one true friend that she had known for her whole life her name was Kerri. The only thing is that Kerri had a partying problem thats all she did was drink and smoke pot with the boys. Kerri was taking poetry at the collage she had always wanted to be a poetry teacher like her mom was before she had dies. she was killed by a drunk driver, and ever since this happen she was never the same. Nikki was older the Kerri by two years and she was like Kerri's mother she was always watching over her. Nikki also had a boy friend that they went to school with his name was Joe. He was a good guy everyone liked him, he was taking auto mechanics at the school. Nikki had always loved his car, he had a 1985 Mustang GT with a 302 Small block and a four Barrel. this car was nice it was pushing out about 320 Horse power the had "BALLS" and joe would say. Joe and Nikki were together for about 2 years. Joe had liked Nikki since 8th grade, but he was always to shy to talk to Nikki. As time went on Kerri's drug problem had started to worsen she was haveing all kinds of shady people over at the appartment at all differant hours of the night and day. Kerri didn't work but she always had money and Nikki had though that this was strange. so one night after there were done watching Nascar and joe had left, she decided to snop around Kerri's room. Kerri had not been home all day she was going to a party she said. At first she didn't find anything, but as she had drug deeper she began to find things like money an drug parafenaial. THen she had saw it two big bags of Marijawan were siting there right next to a scale. Nikki who was disappointed had started puting stuff together in her head, she began to relize what was going on. She got angery she though how could i be so nieve to let the happen. She had sat down and though back, Kerri never used drugs before she had gotten to gether with her no good boyfriend. His name was Roy, he was nothing but bad news she had pleaded with Kerri an sveral ocation to brake up with him, because he use to beater and then tell her that he loved her. Nikki didn't know what to say to Kerri so when Kerri can home nothing was said, Nikki went on without saying a word to anyone not evern Joe.

Charcter Story

2006-04-21T21:36:00.000-04:00

Character Story
By: Rebecca Szyjka

It was a Monday afternoon two weeks before the big swim meet. Everyone was getting ready. For the past month, the coach has been running longer practices so that everyone on the team can get ready for their events. The bell had just rung. Chris was walking out of his eighth period Spanish class when his coach came up to him with some bad news.
“Josh can’t swim in the big meet next weekend. He’s the best we’ve got in the 200 IM and without a first place finish there’s no way we can hope to beat Starpoint and make it to state finals. I don’t know what we’re going to do!” he said to Chris.
Chris said “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone who can fill in for him.”
Practice starts at 3:30 p.m. Chris has until then to find someone who can replace him. He was trying to think of someone who could get the first place finish in the IM. Chris tried calling his coach from his club team to see if there was anyone that he recommended.
When he talked to him, his coach said “Sorry, but the only person I know who has a low enough time to get the win is on vacation with his parents for the next two weeks. But, if you practiced your butterfly and breaststroke a little more I bet you could make the time you need. Why don’t you come by the pool at the gym after practice and I’ll help you work on it.”
“Thanks, coach! I’ll see you around six o’clock.”
Chris went to practice and told his coach not to worry about it. He told him that he’ll have a replacement swimmer by the time the meet comes around.
For the rest of the week Chris would wake up in the morning, go to school, go to swim practice, and then get in some extra practice before he went home. Next Monday at practice, the coach read off the line up for Saturday’s big meet. After he finished, Chris went to take a look at the lineup. He had four events and there was still one blank in the 200 IM slot. League rules say that you can swim a maximum of four events in any one meet. He looked the lineup over to see if there was some way he could take himself out of an event so he could swim the IM. But the team couldn’t afford to take him out of any of his races without the risk of losing the meet.
As Chris walked home he thought to himself who had the best shot of winning the 200 IM. Then he realized that his younger cousin, Jason, was getting pretty close to Josh’s time. When he got home he gave Jason a call.
He said “Hey Jason, you heard that Josh can’t swim in the meet this Friday, right?”
“Yeah, coach told us at practice last week.”
“Well, I was looking at the time sheets from our last couple of meets and watching you in practice. You’ve been getting pretty close to Josh’s time except that your butterfly needs to get a little better.”
“Yeah, I know, I’ve been trying to work on that.”
“Coach left it up to me to find a replacement for Josh in the 200 IM this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to take his spot. I checked the lineup and your scheduled for only three events.
“I’d be glad to do it, but I would never get a low enough time to take first place.”
“If you want, the coach from my club team could work with you on you technique. I think with his help you’d be able to make the time.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll meet you at the pool after practice tomorrow.”
Chris and Jason met with his coach everyday after practice that week. On Friday at practice the coach asked Chris if he had found a replacement. He told him how he’s been working with Jason this past week. The coach decided to have him swim a time trial and he dropped the time then he got the event.
Chris and Jason race each other in a 200 IM before practice. As they were swimming in for the finish, the coach was watching the board for the time. Jason managed to beat Josh’s best time by .2 seconds.
The coach said “Congratulations Jason, you’re swimming the 200 IM tomorrow. Good job Chris. I knew I could count on you.”
It was finally the day of the big meet. Jason took first in the 200 IM, beating the other team by .5 seconds. The score was close throughout the entire meet. It came down to the last event, the 400 freestyle relay. They needed a first place finish to win. If they get second place they lose the meet by 1 point and their season is over. They managed to pull off a 1-2-3 finish and won the meet. They were going on to swim at the state finals!

Character story

2006-04-20T18:39:00.000-04:00

“Christ, Jess.”

“I know! I know. I don’t know what to tell her. She won’t listen to me. She says I’m being irrational, Gregory. Me! I’m being irrational! Not the seventeen year old that just told her sister that she’s just gotten engaged to some dropout delinquent, but me! I can’t believe this. You need to talk to her and … and tell her what a bad idea this is, Gregory.”

“If we tell her that we think it’s a bad idea she’ll just want to do it even more, Jess.” I can feel the headache that started while re-alphabetizing the nonfictions before lunch today escalating. I’m not sure whether or not rubbing my temples will help any, but I try anyway. “She’s a teenager, that’s how they work.”

“Well if we can’t tell her it’s a bad idea, then what should we do? We can’t just smile and go along with it. I mean, it wasn’t too long ago that we were teenagers ourselves there big brother, and I don’t remember either of us pulling any stunt like this.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure she already knows how you feel about this.” The phone feels heavy against my ear. I switch hands, but it doesn’t help. “Fine Jess. Put her on the phone. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her that you already haven‘t, but if you want me to talk to her then put her on I guess.”

“Thank you. She listens to you much better than she listens to me, Gregory. Maybe she’s just too used to me because she lives here or something but … whatever.” I pulled the phone away from my face while Jessica called Karen over. I forgot to call the carpet cleaners today. Or maybe, subconsciously, I knew that I couldn’t afford it so I didn’t call. Or I just forgot.

“Greggy, please don’t tell me that this is a bad idea. Please don’t. I know that Jessie thinks that I’m too young and that Jackson isn’t the right guy for me, but she’s wrong, okay? I know what I’m doing, so, please, don’t get all preach-y on me, okay?” Karen sounded even more like a child now that she was begging that she wasn’t.

“Whoa, Kare - I can’t do any of that if you freak out right off the bat, okay? Calm down for a minute and just listen to what your sister and I are saying, kid.”

“Don’t call me ’kid’ right now, Greggy. It’s rally not helping.”

“Okay. Only if you don’t call me Greggy. Ever. Deal?”

“Fine.” Karen’s voice was softening. Jesus, I thought, she better not start crying.

“Look Kare, I know how you feel, okay? You’re seventeen and you think this Jackson kid loves you, right? And lets say he does. He’s the perfect guy for you and you’re totally soul mates, all right? But, soul mates or not, you’re a junior in high school, and he’s a dropout. How old is this kid anyway? If you did get married, where would you live? Jess sure as hell isn’t going to let him move into your room at her house, and she shouldn’t have to. And, I love you and all, but my one bedroom here isn’t exactly a bridal suite, kid.” Shit. I stopped for a minute, but she didn’t seem to notice the nickname. “Does he have a job, Kare? Or do you plan on supporting both of you with your Blockbuster paycheck?”

“ Jackson works for his dads landscape company. It’s nothing huge pay wise yet, but after he’s been there awhile his dad promised to move him up a little bit and we should be okay.” Her voice had that same angry defiance that we heard when we used to ask her whether or not she had French homework. “And don’t be a dick. I mean we haven’t thought about where we were going to live or anything yet, but I mean he just asked me today and it’s not like we’re getting married this weekend or anything, we just want to start getting ready and whatever.” Maybe I’ve been playing dad for too long, but a light bulb went off. I half expected Jerry to run past me, with Tom and a hammer trailing behind.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Screw the gentle approach.

“No! God, is that all you and Jessica think about? Why do I have to be pregnant to want to get married? Save the Ricki Lake shit for someone else.”

“Engaged or not, watch your mouth Karen. We’re just trying to figure out why our little sister would want to spend her senior year of high school as Mrs. Joe Somebody, instead of having the kind of fun everyone else is having.”

“What kind of fun will a wedding band stop me from having, Gregory? I could be wrong but I don’t think there are going to be any signs posted at the prom that say you can only attend if you’ve never said ‘I do’.”

“I didn’t want to play this card, kid, but what do you think dad would say about this whole thing?”

“Well we can’t exactly ask him, so that is way not the point.”

“No, we can’t ask him, but think about it. If Jess had asked him before he died if she could get married he would have flipped out, and you know it.”

“Well, Jess was only fifteen when he died, not seventeen, which, by the way, is almost eighteen.”

“You only turned seventeen two months ago Karen! And you know what I mean anyways.”

“Gregory, just stop it okay? You’re the dad now and you and Jess can’t change my mind so I’m going to have to change yours. I have to get ready for work, so I guess we’ll talk later, okay? Love you, Gregory.”

“I love you too, kid - which is why we are definitely not done with this conversation, got it?”

“Whatever. Bye.” Hanging up, I realized something - that whole temple rubbing thing? Yeah, it doesn’t work.

Character Sketch

2006-04-06T11:40:00.000-04:00

Pete

18 year old boy with brown hair and hazel eyes
5'9, athletic, muscular build, senior in high school
lives with his parents and old brother (20)
mommas boy
preppy, loves to shop
works at tops where he is a cashier
loves watching hockey and football, but he swims on the varsity swim team
has been swimming his entire life and has even broken a few records
has a dog and 3 cats with an assortment of other animals
spends most of his time outside school and work with his girlfriend
they have been dating for 3 years
hates doing homework, but does it anyways
procrastinates until the last minute
is friends with most of the senior class
kind-hearted
does anything for people when hes asked
improviser
organizer
studying to become a veterinarian after high school
drives a black 01 mustang
blue is his favorite color
hates onions, loves tacos

Character Sketch

2006-04-05T10:23:00.000-04:00

Dean Lish

short dark brown hair
light brown eyes
about 6' tall
22 years old
mommy's boy
flirt
gets jealous easily
enjoys playing games (mostly rpg's)
has a girlfriend named Jessica
most people see him as careless
can be very lazy

By: Jenn

Reina

2006-04-05T00:18:00.000-04:00

Reina in the sky. She's about five feet, seven inches tall with long, slender legs. She's got creamy, brown hair that drifts past her shoulders but perches on them as if a bird were observing its surroundings. Its straight with a bit of volume. The flowing curls at the bottom seemed to bounce around her shoulders when she walked. Streaks of blonde and red ran through the delicate strands which every so often seemed to glow when she would stand the right way in the rays of the sun.

Her complexion was a lighter shade of her creamy, brown hair. Her face seemed to be a light version of coffee with cream.

Her eyes were hazel, but a more intense tint of green was visible. The underlying brown color added depth to her glass-like eyes. Looking into her eyes, you could see everything in front of her clearly.

She's got a unique style that shows she's herself. She puts new spins on clothing combinations. She likes to look flashy, but not gaudy. She doesn't seem to wear anything shiny or anything with sequins in it. She always wears this one gold necklace in the shape of an R. She's never not worn it. She likes jewelry, especially rings for fingers and earrings.

She enjoys listening and playing music. She's really good at guitar and wants to persue a career in the field. She likes heartfelt, emotional and melodic songs as opposed to loud and unthoughtful moshes. A Whopper Jr. is her weakness. She likes the color blue and gold and tends to draw pictures of eyes on her folders and papers.

When she's nervous, she shakes her leg and puts her head in her hands. She pretends to bite her nails, but she just has her fingers in her mouth putting on a good act. People believe she does. Her face contorts when she's upset or when something is ambiguous. She also tends to flick her hair at guys she thinks are attractive.

Character Sketch

2006-04-04T23:35:00.001-04:00

Anita's Character Sketch

This charcater that i have in mind fits this description:

* Male

* 6'5'

*120lbs. or a little more

*Low hair cut

*23 years old

*Name: Wayne

Wayne grew up in the hard core streets of California. When i say bad i mean bad. He was the type of person that went from good to just not giving a damn anymore. Wayne was a trouble for all the girls, because his looks were so atonishing, he had eyes the color of gray, with a pretty blue outline to them, looked like a glass marble. He had the body that would just make females go crazy, and the talk and the smooth walk to go with it. But when females found out the real side of him they ended up leaving him. This character Wayne was into fashion, like he enjoyed waking up in the early sunshining Cali getting ready with style, with all his jewelry which he got all his money to purchase this jewelry from selling on the streets of compton. He would wear his pants low off his waist line, favorite color was red, made sure that every pair of sneakers wether they were nikes, jordan, air max's all had to match him and his styling jewelry. But the one thing that he never got to know much about, was his family. He knew for a fact that he haid two sisters and one brother, but that was only because his aunt was there to tell him, because when he was 15 his mother up and left them to become a prostitute and child protection came and put them into separate homes. All these years went by and he still don't know where his mother is, dead or alive??? All he can think of or dream of is that one day when the wind is blowing, with a little bit of sunshine that he will be able to have a sign to know if his mother is alive, or at least meet his mother and hopefully re unite with his sisters and brother. The father name Wayne Marvin II was killed in a car accident. So what's really left for this character of mine? wayne has a two sided personality, at times he can be cool, but at times he holds a gun, go sells drugs, and just wants to kill himself or someone, but then again if you think about it someone has jsut been killed but was it him or his friends, because they all were in the same cliq, but who did the gun point to and where was or who was the shot fired to???? In the cold street of Cali.

Character Sketch

2006-04-04T23:35:00.000-04:00

Character Sketch

This charcater that i have in mind fits this description:

* Male

* 6'5'

*120lbs. or a little more

*Low hair cut

*23 years old

*Name: Wayne

Character sketch

2006-04-04T22:50:00.000-04:00

The creation of a girl

The light reflects from Mia’s straight black hair. It is stripes of red colored hair that hides underneath her bang. The hair rests on her shoulders and is dropping down towards the arms. The hairstyle is kind of messy but at the same time structured in an well done way. Her left eye is hidden behind a cluster of hair that separates from the top of her head and then unites again by her left ear. Her eyebrows are not trimmed, nor bushy and are brown-blond, since that’s her natural hair color. Her eyes are green-blue, and close around her iris there is a yellow circle that surround the black hole in the middle of her glass bowls. She has a small nose, with a straight slope from between her eyes and down to the tip of her nose. The cheeks are not skinny, nor chubby but has a little flesh on it and it looks like she’s blowing out air through her mouth with a closed mouth and makes the cheeks to grow. A silver bowl can be seen on her tongue, because there’s a piecing that is going from the top of the tongue through the flesh and out again underneath it. A couple of light brown freckles are visible on the upper part of her nose and right under her eyes. She usually tenses the muscles on the both sides of her lips and gives the expression that she’s pursing her lips and make them look smaller, but they are really quite fleshy, not to big but enough to notices it. Her skin has a cue of tan but not that fake artificial cream, but it’s all natural. It has a soft and an innocent look. Shadow lies by her collar bones and makes them show. Her body features are well shaped. It is a little flesh around her belly and thighs but she’s not chubby. She’s dressed in a fitted black shirt with white stripes by the shoulders. She’s also wearing trashy, light blue jeans. The jeans are baggie and are supported by the upper part of her butt, and makes the light green panties show. She has a chain that is going from her right jeans pocket to the back pocket and it’s making a clinking sound when she walks. She’s wearing black and white converse shoes that is kind of wearied out and small holes can be spotted here and there around the surface of the shoes.
This girl is very mysterious, but she’s not trying to. She’s just very special, very unlike what is found in our society, and she knows that. Even though she’s not showing it. But she’s thinking about it a lot, sometimes so much that she feels that she’s driving herself crazy. She don’t think that she fits in anywhere. She have thoughts that it seems like no one else have. At the same time she knows that it probably exist someone like her somewhere. Around people she is confident, but she never liked to make the first move in anything. She usually wait for someone else to approach her. That doesn’t mean that she don’t have any friends. She has a lot of friends, and it a big variety of different people. Punks, geeks, preps, jocks and the ones in the middle. She used to have a lot of boyfriends when she was younger but after a lot of disappointments and misjudgments she is taking a break now. She’s not in celibacy but it’s not one of her highest priorities. She’s now 22 years old and never went to college. She’s living a very regular life. Sleep, work, go home to her apartment, eat, go out with some friends, go home, sleep, work. She feels like there should be more to life, but she’s to busy to find it, but someday she’ll try. And someday she’ll find it. The ultimate meaningful life.

Character sketch

2006-04-04T22:41:00.000-04:00

his name is Pete Freeze. he is 19 years old but doesn't drive--he never went for his license. he rides his bike everywhere and he calls it "Betty". It's his sister's old bike from when she lived there and it's hot pink in color. He is tall and pale with dyed black hair that is kind of long and he styles it like Elvis. he has green eyes and wears red framed cat-eye glasses. Pete has arched brown eyebrows that are the original color of his hair. he has no facial hair except that of a small goatee on his chin.
Pete is also a vegan and an active member of PETA. he wears thrift store finds like light blue vintage tuxedos, military jackets, striped shirts, tight pants, and old man loafers and moccassins. his most prized accessory is a Power Rangers watch.
he is still in high school because he failed math and biology. many people assume he's gay because of his style and lack of a girlfriend but he's really not. he has a major celebrity crush on Debbie Harry of Blondie. his listens to old records of Elvis and Bob Dylan but also likes new age Canadian indie music.
he has two gray rats named Ginger and Marilyn and a golden retriever named Douglas. Pete had a happy childhood and got along with his older sister Cynthia great. as the years passed, he found she was the favorite of the family and it drew them apart. she aced all of her classes and is now attending an ivy league college. Pete's mom disapproves of him: his dress, pet rats, grades, eating habits, and transportation method and wishes he were more like Cynthia.

character sketch

2006-04-04T19:40:00.000-04:00

Gregory Afton

name allusion - Gregory Peck (Classic Hollywood star) and "Afton Water" (poem by Robert Burns - romantic tranquility (those honors classes .....))

Physical:

I picture him as looking almost exactly what Gregory Peck would look like if he were young today - very clean cut hair, sharp jaw lines and cheekbones, very thin lips and nose, thin, oval, dark eyes ..... updated typical 50's handsome
26 years old and has been since he was about 13
black hair with gray at the temples ... his friends tease him but he actually likes it, black stubble
shorter (5"7, 5"8ish)
has a tattoo of last name on upperright arm in that bold Roman-esque font .... faded because it was badly done while he was a junior in high school - whole volleyball team got one
scar on jawline under left ear from threewheeler accident when he was 14

Personality:

The "things I know" things .... (Classic Hollywood, 40's,50's,60's music, 80's punk/goth rock, movies, books, "feng shui" decorating, early american history.....)
best friend a woman named Stephanie (Steph) who is an editor for Obloquy (magazine)
wants to be an editor, stuck as book reviewer/book store employee
lives alone
quit smoking
has two sisters ... both younger (17 and 23)
cynical about everything
hard to tell when he's angry at someone because he knows how to hide it
loves to play spades with his friends
favorite candle is pumpkin spice .... buys extra when they're on sale around Halloween
The watch he wears doesn't work but he won't change it because its the one he's used to so he keeps his cell phone in his pocket so he always knows what time it is ..... he hates when he, or anyone else, is late for anything

reenvisioning story

2006-04-04T16:53:00.000-04:00

I was thirteen years old when the school year was coming to an end. My sister and I were getting ready to take our final exams and preparing for graduation. One Saturday, I was getting ready to go by my Nanny’s house as I do every Saturday. My mom told me that we weren’t going today because Nanny didn’t feel well. One day during the next week at school, my mom picked us up and drove us home. As we came down the street, I saw my dad’s car in the driveway. Why isn’t he at work? He’s never at home during the day, he’s supposed to work until 4:30. When I walked inside my dad was on the phone. He hung up and turned to look at us. I knew by the look on his face that something was wrong. He finally said “Nanny has cancer.” I never thought that I would have to worry about her getting sick since she was always so healthy. I always thought that it was my grandfather that we would have to worry about. I guess that I never knew how wrong I really was. The doctors told my grandfather that she had a tumor in her stomach the size of a football. She needed surgery.
It was a Monday night during the last week of school when we had our graduation dinner. My mom and Aunt Hackie were there since my dad was at the hospital waiting to hear how her surgery went. The pastor at our parish, also a close family friend, gave a speech before we ate. He announced why my dad wasn’t there and led us in a prayer for my Nanny.
“Lord, please watch over Dorothy and her family through this difficult time in their lives. Please keep her in your thoughts and give her the guidance that she needs. Help her to overcome this great obstacle in her life.”
When my dad came home later that night, he told us that the doctor said that the tumor was too large to remove the whole thing. But, they did as much as they could. He apologized for not being at the dinner with us, but we told him that it was okay since Nanny needed him more.
My brother, sister, and I hadn’t seen her for about three weeks since she didn’t want us to see her that way. Since I couldn’t go see her in the hospital, I had to rely on my parents to tell me how she was doing. It was very frustrating because my parents often tried to sugar coat the truth by telling me “She’s doing better.” They never told me what was really going on because they didn’t want me to worry about her. Of course, I only worried more since I was always thinking about what they weren’t telling me. One Sunday afternoon, my parents went to see her in the hospital. We were staying at our neighbor’s house. The phone rang, it was my mom. When I got on the phone I heard my Nanny’s voice. She told me how much she missed all of us and she was so happy that she was able to talk to us. She asked me how school was and how I did on my exams. That was so typical since every time I saw her, the first thing she said was “how are you doing in school?” We all took turns on the phone, then we finally had to say goodbye. Just being able to hear her voice made my day so much better. When my parents came home, they told us that we would be able to see her soon since she was coming home.
She came home from the hospital a couple days later. We all went to see her the next day. When I walked into the house she was laying in the brown, leather chair in the corner of the family room near the fireplace with a multicolored afghan over her legs. She didn’t look the same. She was thinner and her face was pale. She wasn’t full of life like she used to be. Her face lit up when she saw us. We had made her so happy by coming to see her. It almost made me cry to see her this way. I always thought that nothing like this could ever happen, especially not to her. I remember that there were a lot of flowers and cards on the fireplace mantle. We sat with her and talked about what was going on at school and at home. She was hungry so my grandfather brought her a popsicle. She wanted to get up and walk around so I brought her the walker. My dad and uncle helped her up and helped her walk through the kitchen into the living room. She sat down and ate her popsicle. My dad said, “What if it drips on the carpet?” She told him, “I’ll just buy a new carpet!” She began to get tired, so we decided to leave.
About a week later it was my graduation day. All of my family was there, except for two important people, my Nanny and Papa. She was still in pain from the surgery, so my grandfather stayed home with her that day. My uncle taped our graduation so that she could watch it at home. It felt weird for me not having her there with me. She was always there for big events like these. She was there for every birthday, my baptism, pre-K graduation, Kindergarten graduation, first confession, first Holy Communion, and all of my school plays. I don’t know if it was worse for her, that she had to miss it, or for me, missing her not being there. Later that day, we went to her house to show her our dresses and our final report cards. I remember saving her my graduation rose.
A couple days later, my dad went over to my Nanny’s house to take care of her while my grandfather went to work to take care of some things. She told him, “David, go home to your wife and kids and live your life, mine’s already over.” My dad came home and I overheard him and my mom talking in the kitchen. He sounded like he was going to cry. That’s when he told her what she said. I think that’s when we all came to terms with the fact that she could actually die. I think that the fact that she knew that she was dying made it much harder to deal with.
She began to get worse and was soon in the hospital again. The treatments weren’t working; nothing was helping her get better. I remember going to the Lady of Fatima Shrine with my other grandmother and my sister. We stopped by the gift shop on our way back to the car. We got Nanny a medal that was supposed to help you feel better hoping that it would help her. My sister got her a framed poem of “Footprints” and I got her one titled “Don’t Quit” hoping that it would give her hope to keep fighting and not give up.
It was raining outside; my parents were going to visit Nanny in the hospital, they dropped us off at our grandmother’s house. We were lying on the couch watching a movie when the phone rang. My Grandma answered the phone. After she hung up she didn’t say a word. She walked through the kitchen into my Babci’s room and began to tell her something. I suppose that my parents didn’t want her to say anything to us that they wanted to tell us themselves. But I knew what the call was about right after she hung up the phone. I don’t think she knew that I suspected anything since she didn’t know that I was paying attention to her when she was on the phone. I think she thought that I was sleeping since she saw that my brother and sister had semi-fallen asleep.
I kept myself from crying because I didn’t want them to know what had happened, actually I don’t think that I could have brought myself to tell them why I was crying. I just held it all in, trying to tell myself that it wasn’t true. But I knew that it was the minute my parents walked through the door. The looks on their faces said it all. This is the first time that I ever saw my dad cry. He had just lost his mom. I remember falling to the floor and sitting there crying. I never thought that I could cry so much. I cried myself to sleep for days afterward.
“Everyday I wake up hoping that it was all just a bad dream, but it wasn’t, it’s reality. July 10, 2002 is that day that my life changed forever.”
At the wake and the funeral I just remember crying constantly.
The night before the funeral we took all the pictures from the bulletin board home. The poem “Don’t Quit” that I had bought for her was also displayed. As my grandfather was about to put it into the coffin with Nanny so that she could be buried with it, I took it from him and told him that I wanted him to have it because he needs to know that he can’t quit and he has to continue living life to the fullest.
It just seemed so unreal. I always thought she would be there for all of those important stages of my life and all those special days (my confirmation, high school graduation, going off to college, and even my wedding day). She never did get the chance to watch the tape of my eighth grade graduation. She always said that she wasn’t going to be here for all of these special days, but I never once thought that she was actually right! I guess she knew what was happening before anyone else even suspected anything. I chose my confirmation name to be Marie in honor of her. We talked about be she died. We were at Bob Evans with my Papa and sister after church one Saturday. I didn’t know what name to choose. She mentioned that Marie was a nice name and I thought it would be a nice thing to do in memory of her. This is just one of the many ways that she affected my life.
It’s a warm Saturday afternoon and just like any other Saturday I go to my grandfather’s house. Something’s different, there’s something missing. I walk inside through the laundry room into the kitchen. I look to my right into the family room and I see that the TV is on. I walk farther into the kitchen and into the dining room. Turning to my left I walk through into the living room. I step into the foyer looking up the stairs, then turning to look into the den. “Where is she? I can’t find her.” I think to myself. I look down the hallway into the kitchen. I see the counter, but she’s not sanding behind it like she always is. This is when it hits me. She’s gone, my Nanny, who I loved and cared about so much is really gone and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back. This is when reality sets in. Before I walked into this empty house I still had a glimmer of hope that maybe it wasn’t real. Now, I finally am forced to accept the truth.
It was about four and a half years ago that she died. Yet every time I walk into this house I expect to see her standing there, behind the counter like she always was. When I walk into this house it feels empty and incomplete because she made it like a second home for me. Without her there it just doesn’t feel the same and I know that it never will. I still like going there to see my grandfather, of course, but without her he’s not the same. She completed him.
There are so many things that remind me of her. We had this candle in the bathroom, pink in a seashell porcelain cup. I picked it up and smelled it; it was exactly like her perfume. You know the smell that only old ladies will wear and you can smell it when you sit behind them in church. The smell of this candle brought back so many wonderful memories of the times that we spent together. When I go upstairs on the computer, an old one with very few programs and no internet or printer and a couple old style computer games, I’ll remember the time I was playing Wheel of Fortune and I couldn’t figure out the puzzle, so she sat there with me and helped me to solve the puzzle. I’ll look through all of the old coloring books and notebooks and they’ll remind me of the times when she used to sit with my sister and me doing math problems or practicing our writing when we were little. Sometimes it’s just stupid little everyday things that remind me of her like driving by the church we used to go to or seeing a purse like the one she used to have at the mall.
I always think of her everyday. I think to myself, “What would my life be like if she were still here? Would things be different?” I’ll think to myself that she would have been the first person that I would have called when I got my glasses, failed my driver’s test, and again when I passed. I always wondered if she would have been proud of me when I got my first job, made my confirmation, for my grades throughout high school, and getting accepted into college. These are the things that I’ll never know. I’m sad that she can’t see the person that I’ve become today. I wish that she could see how much she influenced and affected my life. She taught me so many new things and I will never forget that. I find myself working hard so that she can be proud of the person that I’ve become because I know that she’s watching over me. I am going to college for pharmacy. Maybe I’ll decide to go into drug research and find a cure for cancer!
“Nanny, I just want you to know that I am the person that I am today because of you. You have shaped my life in so many ways. You have taught me so much over the years that I will never forget. I think of you everyday and I just want you to know that I will never forget you or everything that you have done for me. I hope that we can see each other again one day. Until then, I just want to say I love you and goodbye.”

character sketch

2006-04-04T16:50:00.000-04:00

16 year old boy, light brown hair, green eyes,
height-5’8”, athletic build, junior in high school,
parents divorced when he was 5 years old, lives with mom,
visits dad on the weekends, has an older brother (22) and a younger sister (14),
likes to wear polo shirts and jeans,
always clicks his pen and snaps his gum,
loves watching sports on TV, captain of varsity swim team,
made it to state finals last year for swimming, hopes to make the Olympic team
since his dad won two gold medals as an Olympic swimmer, has been swimming
since he was 4 years old,
at school he hangs out with his friends from the swim team and the football team,
plays with his dog a lot, loves spending time with his girlfriend,
doesn’t like giving presentations in class because he gets nervous when he has to
talk in front of a large group of people, president of student council, honor student,
National Honor Society, works at wegman’s at the customer service desk, hard worker –
has received employee of the month 3 times since he started working there (1 ½ years working at wagman’s, plays volleyball and softball for work,
favorite color - green, favorite food – tacos, loves Mexican food, doesn’t like spaghetti or
pizza, drives a ’98 ford escort, goes to the movies every weekend with his friends.

The Women

2006-04-04T11:37:00.000-04:00

Nikki
Dark brown eye that when you look in to them you lose yourself
Long dark brown hair that is straite.
Thight little body
Sweet soft voice that sounds sweeter then the sweetiest song birds.
She likes to whare thight little oufits that show off her sexy and lushous body.
she usally wheres low cut Abercambie and Fitch.
She 5'5" with long slender legs that go on forever

Habits

Drinks
works
Like to drive fast and speed

Shes kind
outgoing
she has empathy
Reigous

Likes
5 Speeds
fast cars
blue
85 mustang gts

Jason Daniels Charachter skit

2006-04-04T11:04:00.000-04:00

light skinned
dark brown eyes
light brown eyes when she wears her contacts
long black hair that she always straightens and plays wit when she is bored or nervous
this glittery pink lip gloss that she always wears and keeps in her back pocket and you can tell its there because you can see
it petruding fron the back of her jeans
she loves baby blue
she only wears eye shadow no make up
always on her phone
walks pidgeon toed
always runnin her mouth
always talks about fighting but never does
is real smart
5ft 5
in love with TI
always listens to mariah carey's new cd
doesnt really talk to her father
argues with her mother a lot but secretely loves her to death
has a crush on this guy she works at footlocker with but could never because her build up the courage to tell him and acts messed up towards him just so no one figures out that she absolutely adores him
real close withher grandmother partly because her grandfather died and she feels empty when she sees little kids with there grandparents
plays with her hands when she is real nervous
uses a lot of big wordsdeon her phone lilke s
comes off stuck up
seems r bad boyg fononly wears silver
has a thgo
doesnt
always plays pac man
talks like she always has an additu

reinvision

2006-03-30T02:23:00.000-05:00

She was the apple of my eye six pounds, three ounces. september 15,1995 was the day i finally became a big sister the day id been waiting 7 years for. i never quite understood why she didnt get to come home with mommy right away. she stayed in the hospital for an extra month after she was born. the weeks flew by visiting her in the hospital everyday and doing homework and gymnastics by night. seeing her smile made everything okay. i remeber the day she came home, raining, cold, and gloomy, the weather didnt matter as long as she was there it was sunny enough. by this time the doctors had no idea what was really wrong with my sister. at least she got to stay home, except for when she got bad. the babys first halloween we went to visit great grandmda adeline in the nursing home. when she held her grammas grey hair glissten just right in the light with the babys blue eyes. the baby was dressed up as a pumpkin, bridget a witch, and i a cat. soon after things took a toll for the worst. we packe dup the overnight bag and made our way down the winding streets which led to our second home. childrens hospital. days went by with no further knowledge of her condition. while waiting for the resluts of some recent tests they had done i started to wander the halls. i stopped for a drink at the fountain, watched a new mother wheel her baby around proudly. i started to wonder why does god have to punish me and my family? i pray everynight. i go to church. i do my good deeds. i staggered back to my parents and while i was approaching the doctor came out. i nearly pounced on him when he told me the resluts were in. he said that she had a low blood cell count. and it was hard to fight infections. i offered her mine, they didnt want them.
christmas is just around the corner, ive been praying everynight for the baby to be able to come home for christmas. i was starting to get the feeling that god wasnt on my side at all. three full weeks shes been in that hospital. three weeks. the baby deserves to be at home with her family. well its christmas eve, one more day. i spent the day at the hospital. lying there with her under that blue blanket surrounded by those for yellow walls ive grown to know oh so well. the hospital seemed cheery that day. i didnt know that was possible. the doctors came into the room anbd explained to us that we could take the baby home becasue there was nothing left they could do. he kind of twiddled his thumbs in ebaressment that they could not do anything to help this innocent baby.
this was it! finally the big day...god does exist i thought. my prayers came true and i had gotten everything i had asked santa for. however the day didnt stay like this. it was a long dayfull of vomit and coughing and disbelief. we had no choice but to take her back to her room. room 719. this time it was worse she had caught phnemonia. back in the hospital for about a month the doc said.
january flew by wiht going to school, the hospital, gymnastics and homework everynight. the baby was getting better, she had been home four days out of January. i missed having her around to play with, hold and just make her feel safe. valentines day already. i bought her flowers, balloons, and a stuffed blue bunny. she was home that was the best give any one could give me. the day was just full of suprises. the baby crawled backwards. her first crawl. i was in tears, i began to have hope again. again my rollercoaster ride called life to a toll for the worst again. we packed up the bags and travelled the 24 minutes it took us to get there. i remeber it was 24 becasue we left at exactly 919. her birthday. grandpa picked me and bridget up. he always had to watch us when mom and dad were busy.
we had gotten home that night. the house was empty. bridget and i went downstairs to make up a rountine to the spice girls. grandma had the laundry going which i oculd hear in the room above us. the scent of laundry filled the air everywhere. grandpa was in the kitchen making his usual chicken finger and french fry combo. the phone rang. DAMN operators grandpa said . it rang again soon after that but something was differnet thi time. something was wrong. as i turned to look at my grandma who had the pohone at the top of the stairs. i seen one tear roll down her cheek. that one tera told it all. it tolkd me never again will i ever see her. she was gone.
later that night i talked to god for a good 5 hours making up excuses for him as to why this happened. couldnt find not one, febrauary16, 1997 was the day. they day i realized god wasnt on my side.

Losing someone

2006-03-30T01:18:00.000-05:00

it was february 16, 1997 and my sister and i were in the basment creating a routine to "spice up you life" by the Spive Girls. grandma and grandpa were watching us for the fird time this week, mom and dad have been busy with erin in the hospital. the washer and dryer were both going i could hear the sound of laundry tumbling in the room above us. the fresh dryer scent filled the air. grandpa was in the kitchen making his usual chicken finger and french fry combo while granma was making her famous jell-o. i was a good day just like any other erin was doing well. bridget and i were having fun making up the routine, and granma and grandpa were over what could be better?. the phone rang and atthat moment, i knew. i knew nothing would be the same from this day forward, i learned that no longer and i a big sister, i learned that god does not help create miracles:if he even exists at all. i fell to the ground on my knees, the music was still on but all i could hear were the sound of tears streaming down my face. bridget stood motionless for a second before she tried to protect to only sister she had left from any pain. i still havent woken up from the nightmare on that gloomy day in february.

Yearning for Guidance (re-envision)

2006-03-28T00:46:00.000-05:00

I have been playing the guitar for the better part of the past four years. The memories I have with my axe keep growing, day after day. It’s taken me to emotionally high places, where I thought I couldn’t go. Through playing, I have discovered many guitarists and musicians who dedicate their lives to being the best they can be. Interpreting, reading and playing what they write makes me understand why they are the best in their field.
I had performed it twice. Both times were at the football games behind my school at the football field. “The National Anthem” was usually sung at the commencement of our Friday night games. As an up-in-the-air idea, I proposed the possibility of performing it in front of the Friday night crowd.
The first time I had attempted it was almost two years ago mid-football season in the beginning of October. I flubbed on it. A year later, I was back up on the press box, making sure people knew who I was.
I recall getting to the game about an hour before kickoff. I had to set myself up on top of the press box, which included lugging a very heavy and very awkward amplifier up a ladder that wasn’t too forgiving. Thanks to the announcer for the games, he helped me bring it up. I started to carry the guitar up along with my pedals and cords that I needed.
As setup was drawing to a complete, I turned on the guitar and plunked out a practice notes in hopes of getting my fingers warmed up and my strings accustomed to the cool air that signaled the imminent fall season approaching. It was a cool, clear night, which brought chills every once in a while.
I stood up there watching people file in to the bleachers. They were all giving me screw faces, wondering what I was doing. I kept playing a bit though. As this was happening, I peered at my watch on my left arm and saw it was nearing seven. Thirty minutes. Kickoff was closing in and I was getting more and more nervous.
The sun was setting behind the mall and left an endless array of shades of colors in the sky. The stars shimmering in the sky in front of the greens and blues calmed the fiery shades of reds and oranges.
I felt the adrenaline start to pump through my veins and intensify my emotions. I was feeling really good about it. A guy from the visiting team came up the ladder. I introduced myself and told him what I was going to do. He was going to film the game. Talking to him calmed me down a great deal especially because Cheektowaga Central was his alma mater.
Five minutes to game time and the announcer starts talking to the crowd about conduct and fair game rules. I realize it’s not too long from. I took one last look down from the press box and noticed an eerie figure standing in the middle of the track. I tried to focus in on what I was seeing, but I couldn’t figure it out.
“It’s that time to remove your hats and give it up for Dan Myers who will be doing his rendition of the National Anthem.” Right before he ends, the figure seems to sharpen and I realize it’s a woman, but it seems like no one can see her.
The crowd got quiet. If at any point in my life where it felt like time stopped, it was here at the top of this pedestal. All ears were on me. Everyone was intently listening. I started playing as I heard a whisper in my ear.
“I’m here with you if you need me,” it whispered.
The sound was great. It wasn’t too loud. It was audible enough to where the volume level was comfortable for the majority of the fans in the bleachers.
The first verse felt like it took an eternity to complete. The second verse felt even longer. But as I got to the interlude, I felt hands on my shoulders, gripping as I heard another whisper.
“You’re home free,” I heard as I got the interlude.
I was really feeling it that night. Everything seemed to be aligned. I was one with the guitar. I had my sunglasses on as a bit of an accent. I felt empowered, full of energy and confident that it was going to end on a positive note.
As I zeroed in on the final notes, I realized the whisper I heard was the present of the eerie figure on the track: my grandmother. She helped to guide me to the ending.
With the last flew plucks of the strings, I dive bombed the low E string for a dramatic completion. I crowd roared as I stood there like a ham, in awe of my accomplishment. The pause in the time ended and slowly accelerated back to the regular pace.
“I just can’t believe you were there the whole time,” I said in astonishment.
“I was always with you, always with me.”
Grandma came back from her long vacation. I hadn’t seen her for many years. She looked healthier than she did before left. I looked at her and realized the yellow nails that would attract so much attention were gone. Her teeth were white, she could walk and she wasn’t out of breath from smoking anymore.
“What did you do on your vacation, grandma?” I asked.
“I recovered myself,” she said.
I asked her questions about the performance of “The National Anthem” and what she thought about it. She seemed to enjoy it. She mentioned Hendrix somewhere in the midst of it all. I cut her off.
“I think I stole the idea from Jimi.”
“You think?”
We both laughed. It was great. I never knew my grandmother the way she was during those days. She was more energetic and eager to do things. She wanted to go to the movies, out to eat and to the beach: stuff that seemed to slowly disappear before she embarked on her journey.
I started to chew her ear off about missing so many things within the past few years. She nodded her head many times acting as if she was shrugging of the question. But every so often, I noticed a vague smile come across her face.
“I now play guitar in the jazz ensemble,” I said.
“Oh really? I can’t wait to hear you play.”
“We’re playing an amazing song called ‘Almost Like Being in Love.’ Kristen is singing it and her vocals are so powerful. It’s one of those in your face songs that really touch you.” I rambled.
She seemed to get excited about it. I showed her it. She looked at me like I was stupid. I think it was the fact she didn’t know how to read music notation.
“Come on now, you know what a Amin7b5 chord is right?”
“Ha, very funny Dan.” She scoffed sarcastically.
She seemed to not have a lot to worry about because she talked endlessly.
“You seem like you’ve gotten really good at that instrument.” She said.
I nodded and smiled
“While you were gone, mom and dad went through some hard times. Mom started cheating on dad with a guy a while ado and befriended a woman who’s more absent minded than a pet rock.”
Her face contorted unhappily.
“My daughter? Wow. I couldn’t believe she would do that to all of you, including your dad.”
“I know. I didn’t know what to do, but I’m better now.”
“All those times you were upset and beating yourself up, was because of this? I didn’t realize it was that serious, but I was always there giving you guidance. Sadly though, I’m disappointed in that she even thought of doing such a thing.”
She was silent for a while.
We enjoyed our company though. We went out to eat that night. We went to TGI Friday’s. Grilled food was a trademark item that my grandmother loved. Grilling in the park was always something we did at the summer picnics that took place sometimes twice a week.
“Remember all those picnics we had in the parks?”
“Oh, how could I forget? The smell and taster of a char-broiled hot dog or two is always worth a hot day in the sun,” she said. It almost sounded like poetry.
She always loved them charred and black. I never understood it though. I like mine just to the point where color starts to show.
I asked her how long she was planning on staying. A smirk appeared. I knew she was staying for while.
“Just you wait and see this concert. Don’t forget, I still play the trumpet too!”
“Well that should be something. Horn tooting and string plucking all in the same night.”

Draft from "Combined-fiction-story"

2006-03-23T22:30:00.000-05:00

Combined Fiction-story

“…when the summer dies and the muteness is mine. In the winter I stand hidden far in the

bar, and the time is passing. Months, years. And I’m falling, falling, falling…”.

Every time I hear that song I fall back in her bed. The fire attached to the braided wick is

flicking and gives the room a gloomy, dimmed scene. I inhale her breath into my lungs. I

open my eyes slowly and I look at her. She is laying close to me. I can tell that she wants to

touch my lips with hers. And so do I. But I’m insecure. I’m afraid. What would happened

after that? Where would I stand? I don’t want any change. But still. I can feel the gravity pull

me closer to her. I look at the clock radio. Its green numbers are glowing on the surface of the

her dark-brown hair. It’s ten after nine. My bus is leaving from the hospital stop quarter to

ten, which is a fifteen minute walk.

I want the time to stop. I want to be here forever by her side. Forever, always.

She’s laying on her side with folded legs with her body facing mine. Her stomach is

growing as it fills with my breath, and shrinks when the oxygen leaves her lungs into my

mouth. She’s breathing so peacefully. I want to eat the air used by her. I want to be filled with

the inside of her. I want to embrace her, and never let go. I want to be connected to her

beautiful house made of flesh and bone with thousand of unbreakable wires made out of a

material that would last throughout the end of the world.

When the pyramids are nothing but a pile of dirt, when the mountains are shattered to

valleys, when the sun turns into a black hole, when the Gods are laying in their graves made

of clouds, I want to be by her side.

Nothing can ruin this moment. This beautiful, innocent, breathtaking moment. A moment

made of the most fragile glass, but still as solid as the foundation of a mountain. A mountain

that can be collapsed only by her. She’s banking on the gate that leads to my heart. I’m

standing with my ear by the door, listening and holding the handle ready to open it for her.

But I’m thinking. I don’t want to think. all I want to do is to lean my head two inches, purse

my lips and kiss her. Move out of my comfort zone and embrace the terrifying, unknown

consequences.

But I’m afraid.

The moon is bright. It gives the water a smooth cover of sparks and glitter and illuminates

the surrounding. I’m thinking.

Even though parts of us are individual for everyone. The DNA and all the tiny particles that

scrambles around inside of us that I don’t know the name of. Still, the structure of flesh and

bone that we all wear are in most cases the same. But there is something inside all creatures

that is distinctive. A uniqueness that lies within all living things that most people would like

to call “the soul”. But I believe that we should think outside the original frames. I’ve always

thought that the soul were the most beautiful and precious parts of us, united to a small light

blue substance big enough to be held with your both hands, that would float around in heaven

for ever and all eternity. But I’ve been thinking. What if the soul will remain alive after death

because of “the life”. That the soul really is the influence, the memories and the uniqueness

that had an impact on the people around the soul’s owner. That means that the “soul” really is

the “I” that we are today, and the body only is a tool that we use to extend the “soul” with.

Since every single thing that we do, say or think has the power to change how the future will

look for everyone and everything. Even if it’s a small change, it still the individual that put his

or her label on “the life”. If “I” really are our souls, and our souls are forever living through

life, we will never die. It’s only our bodies that wears out and stops working. But the “I” is

not really linked to the body more than as a tool, so that means that nothing of us will ever

die, but only the tool that isn’t even related to the character.

I probably think this is how it is just because I want to. I hope. I hope that my love will for .

That no one that I care about will ever die. Like a child, not aware of the reality. Or are they

more aware of it then we are? Since they still haven’t been exposed for the deep-rooted

frames, and influence that the old thoughts and morals that the human race have had for

decades.

(Not finished yet, a work in progress)

Frozen Moment

2006-03-22T21:46:00.000-05:00

Playing the guitar is not only something I enjoy, it’s something that I want to do for the rest of my life. The memories I have with my axe keep growing, day by day. It’s taken me to places where I have never been to. Through playing, I have discovered many guitarists who dedicate their life to being the best they can be. Trying to play what they compose makes me understand why they’re known in this world.
I had performed it twice. Both times were at the football games behind the school at the football field. “The National Anthem” was always played at the commencement of our Friday night games. As an up in the air idea, I proposed the possibility of performing it in front of the Friday night crowd.
The first time was almost two years ago mid-football season in the beginning of October. This past year was about the same only about a week or so earlier.
This past year’s experience was unbelievable. I thought my execution was so much better than the previous year.
I recall getting to the game about an hour before kickoff. I had to set myself up on top of the press box which included lugging a very heavy and very awkward amplifier up a set of straight-up vertical stairs. Thanks to the announcer for the game, he helped me bring it up. I started to carry the guitar up along with my pedals and cords.
As setup was drawn to a complete, I turned on the guitar and plunked out a few practice notes in hopes of getting my fingers warmed up and my strings accustomed to the cool air that signaled the imminent fall season approaching. It was almost chilly, but night was clear.
I stood up there watching people file in. I saw them look up at me wondering what I was doing. I kept playing a bit. At the time it was probably about seven o’clock and I was getting more and more nervous as I felt kickoff closing in. The sun left a beautiful shade of brilliant colors in the sky ranging from fiery red and orange to a very relaxing green and blue.
Adrenaline started to pump through my veins. I was feeling good about it. A guy from the visiting team came up. I introduced myself and told him what I was going to do. He was going to film the game. Talking to him calmed me down a great deal.
Five minutes to game time and the announcer starts talking to the crowd about conduct and fair game rules.
“It’s that time to remove your hats and give it up for Dan Myers who will be performing your National Anthem.”
The crowd got quiet. If at any point in my life time felt like it stopped, it was here. All eyes, or should I say ears, were on me. Everyone was listening. I started playing. The sound was great. Not too loud, but audible enough to where you could hear it comfortably.
The first verse felt like it took t w e n t y minutes to complete. The second verse felt a bit l o n g e r. As I got to the interlude, I knew I was home free. I was in the zone. That night was when I was one with the guitar. With my sunglasses on, I felt empowered, full of energy and confident that it was going to end on a positive note.
The finally few notes were like the last sprints in a marathon race. It was these notes that I was relying on to complete one of the most amazing experiences. Luckily, I ended almost flawlessly, dive bombing my low E string for a dramatic effect. The crowd roared as I stood there in awe of my accomplishment. Overcome with emotion, I smiled and looked around.
The pain in my stomach that occurred the year before was not even close to happening again. I put my guitar down in the case and cleaned up the cables. I came down the steps still in my own world. I was greeted by my fellow band-mates as they congratulated me.
Anytime I play the guitar, I think back to this night; the performance, the experience and the once (twice if you count the year before) in a lifetime chance that you get to do something spectacular. With open arms, I would reach back, and be a part of it again if I ever had the chance to.

Ashley

2006-03-22T16:41:00.000-05:00

I'm posting this story because it's probably the worst one I've written this year so I won't mind any criticisms lol

I could clean up the living room like I screamed that I wouldn't, or I could let it stay that way to prove a point. I had told Aaron and Austin last night that if the living room wasn't cleaned up before I left for school in the morning they weren't going to enjoy me watching them while mom and Tom were at work on Saturday. But, 8 hours after the threatened time period had passed, I had just put my coat on the hook and kicked my shoes to the closet corner where they go every day, and turned to see the mess not only not cleaned up, but worsened by the pile of gloves and hats on the floor because, of course, the pair they needed was all the way on the bottom of the tote. And now the blankets that had been a tangled mess on the couch last night when I had been yelling at them were now, obviously, much better off thrown haphazardly on the floor. The green pillow was on top. They don't even sleep with the green pillow - they use it to hit each other with before they fall asleep. I could pick up all the blankets and pillows and actually go and put them on their beds in their bedroom (the one with the wolf border that they absolutely had to have that took 3 and a half hours to put up and now they never see because they decided the living room is much better to sleep in) but that would be pointless because they would move them all back out here in a few hours anyhow, probably making a bigger mess then there already is on the way. They had had oranges before bed. Not only do the blankets smell like citrus juice, but as I pick them up to fold them (yes, I've given in - I'm folding the blankets and leaving them on the couch. A compromise with myself.) orange peels and that bad tasting white stuff, now turned beige, fall on to the dozen other blankets underneath the first one. I know as I stop folding the blanket and watch another flake of beige orange skin fall onto the Smurf sheets that this is the point where I start to get angry all over again. I throw the blanket onto the floor and angrily grab the orange peels and the 7 socks on the floor ( how do two people, both with only two feet, always manage to leave so many socks on the floor? ) and walk towards the hallway to throw out the peels and throw the socks in the basket. I stomp back to the living room, yelling at them in my head, knowing its pointless because they'll get home, look at the clean living room, grab an orange and throw their socks on the floor, pausing only to ask me to move away from the television so that they can see Spongebob better. None of this has happened yet, I just know it will. I'm still standing in the corner, staring at the gloves, scarves, and the blankets, and seeing the white and blue of a sock sticking out from underneath the pile. I can smell the oranges from over here.

A Stranger's Face

2006-03-22T11:21:00.001-05:00

One day Keith, a friend of my family came back to life to see how my family was doing. I was so happy when I saw him come to my door at 10:00 a.m. My family was too. My sisters and I listened to him talk about being careful so nothing bad could happen to you. He didn't want my sisters or I to be like him in a wheelchair. It was amazing to see his face again and to have him listen to my life story.While Keith was back my family and I difd some of the things we used to do. We went to Burger King and we all ate a lot. We ate so much we could barely get up so we sat and talked. My mom and dad told Keith that I been screwing up, Keith was really upset to hear that. I was so good and loving to him back then. He thought that couldn't be me doing bad things. We all left Burger King and went fishing. While we were fishing, Keith and I had time to be alone. He talks to me and tries to turn me into a better person. I told him a couple of months later afterI screwed up that I'm a better person now. I told him "I know I made wrong decisions, but it's different now.After eating at Burger King and going fishing, it got dark so we went back to my house with Keith and watched T.V. We all sat down on my big couch that could ft up to four people and my other couch that could hold two people. We all got the feeling that it was like the old days before he passed away.Every time I look at Keith, I got the feeling it was the best day of my life. It then got real late, he left, and said his good-byes at 12:00 p.m.I woke up and got out of bed and realized this was all dream. Keith apparently never came back.

By: Kristina IZZZZzy

2006-03-22T00:41:00.000-05:00

Losing Someone
It all started in the year of 2002, the month of November and me just turning fourteen years old on the second of this month, and all of a sudden someone who was suppose to come celebrate with me on the sixteenth passed away the next day, November 17th. How, I mean why, how and why could the voice that I just heard three hours ago, be the same voice that I will never hear or see again physically, be gone so soon, so fast, so quick. This voice that I am describing was the voice of my eighteen-year-old brother Shumpert who had just started college at Morrisville in August but only made it to see the month of November.
I blamed my mother at a point of my brother death because she was suppose to go pick him up on the 17th of November, because I felt that if he was closer to us we could of saved him, because I don’t understand why It took an ambulance an half hour to come to my brother rescue when he came back to life three times before they got there screaming “where is my sister, and crying” and the substitute coach who claim he didn’t know CPR. But I have to realize that it’s not my mother fault, she was tired that day and no body was expecting something so devastating to happen. Especially when we had to go to the forensic place and see him laying there on the table with a blanket over him, with a smile on his face and a dried up tear drop by his left eye, I went crazy, it was impossible for this to be happening I was saying to myself.
I just still can’t understand, I asked Jesus a million times did I do anything to deserve this? Or is this a wake up call for someone in my family? Is there anybody out there who can answer me? I guess not because I’m still confused four years later, I found no answer. I know you all have heard that Jesus do things for a reason, but why did he have to end his life so early and for what reason. I know I was not suppose to feel this way about Jesus, but I felt as though I never could believe in him anymore because my heart, my soul, my mind, was so gone and so hurt I just felt like I could blame the whole world including myself, Until my grandmother had to sit by my side day by day to explain life to me.
Every night and day I would say “Nita, girl you are dreaming, when you wake up tomorrow he will be right there, or ya’ll will be on the phone” I went days without sleep and no appetite. I told myself that I will or could never be the same, I never wanted to get up again or come to this school because these are the halls we both walked together at a time, and we would just be smiling and playing around. I felt as if I would never get up again or smile, for what? I had nothing to smile for or should I say be so happy about, I just wanted to sit and cry, until I couldn’t cry anymore. But I had to remember that Shumpert would of wanted me to be that way.
I remember the days my brother would come home all hot and sweating saying “Yo Benson, hurry up and get me some water” and ten minutes later I would go check on him and he would be sleep. But do you know that all of these signs of being tired all the time, being hot at times for no reason, were sign of an disease called enlarged heart? Why didn’t I seem to pay them any attention? Then another thing that is killing me so deep inside is that three of his so called friends knew about my brother having seizures, but how come I couldn’t see that or know that, now that I think about it, I knew why he really didn’t want to stay around the family for a long time. He was afraid that my grandma would make him stop laying sports, because as he stated in the yearbook “Sports is my life”.
Now, that I sit here everyday of my life that goes by I have no choice but to think of all our memories we shared. I remember when he was like “Yo Benson the first party you ever go to is going to be with me because I’m making sure that every boy is dancing five feet away from you”. But as I think now, instead of him going to my first party with me, he is resting in peace. Then he would also say “Yo, yall wanna see my lil sister dimple, and I would smile for his friends, and they would say “Dang, that joint deep” and he would reply “I know right, if I had one, I would have way more girls all over me”. Then the room was filled with laughter.
Shumpert style was like no other; he was so cool and laid back, always smiled no matter what was going on. His smile lives on inside and outside of me. Then the smell of his favorite cologne called Candies is now wore by other brother in respect of his memory. Every time I see my brother with one of Shumpert shirts on and the smell of his cologne I feel like he is once again right beside me, but the only difference is, is that my brothers just can’t treat me like he does, or we can’t really bond like me and Shump bonded. I just want to crazy at times.
But the most funniest memories that will never leave me, is how one day all four of us took the mattress of my bed and used it to slid down the stairs, but this one time Shump was on the front and before the mattress started sliding, he fell off and then we all slid on top of him. Another funny memory was how we made up a game called Shark, which you could only jump on things without touching the floor, because that’s where the water full of sharks were and if you touched the floor you were out. So one time, him and me both jumped on this little table and the table broke, and all we could do is laugh, especially when he would laugh because he had one of those laughs that would just make you laugh, because it sounded so funny.
But now in my life at times, I feel as if I’m going in slow motion, I feel like I’m in a long dream or he just moved to a real far place but one day I am going to wake up and we are finally going to see each other, But until then all I can do is watch tapes of him and remember these words: “Make sure you watch my little sister and tell her that I love her” which he would always tell my grandma even after he got off the phone with me, he would just remind her, to look over me, like he knew that his end was coming, and he wanted to make sure someone knew and made sure that I am safe. He said this three hours before I could of ever thought we would receive a terrible, heart crushing, life ending, never ending words of the doctor saying Shumpert Douglas has passed away at 8:25 p.m., November 17th, 2002. It did not seem possible.
My life, my heart just died slowly, but surely, and still is. I never would of thought that he would be gone before I got married, or had children, and what about my graduation, I know he is here spiritually, but I need him here physically. One lesson I can say that my brother taught me, is no matter how many times you seem to think you have failed, just think positive and keep your head up because you have a lot to live for, live you life to the fullest, I Love You. So all I can say, is it’s really hard to say goody bye, to today, tomorrow, yesterday and forever, but I never had the last chance to say those words. He was a walking angel.

2006-03-19T18:25:00.000-05:00

http://rinkworks.com/bookaminute/

2006-03-16T10:29:00.000-05:00

Defining Moments
by: Lindsey Hosmer

One of the moments I most remember as a kid was when I was in elementary school with my brother and sister. Since both my parents worked mornings and afternoons, we would always get dropped off at my grandparent’s house since it was only about 5 minutes away and still in the district. My uncle also lived with them. When my mom got home from work, she would always come and pick us up from my grandparent’s house since they couldn’t drive. They came from Paris, France and where never taught how to drive once they entered the United States.Well I remember one night, in 1996, getting a call from my uncle for my mom to have her rush to my grandparent’s house, something has happened.
When my mom reached there, my grandmother was on the ground, lying purple, and dead. She suffered from a massive heart attack. I remember how much this ruined my life. My grandfather had passed away in 1993, so I remember him, but not enough to remember how I felt when he died since I was only 5 years old.After this moment, my uncle was left alone and we were left with him everyday after school, which we didn’t mind because he was so cool. However, he started having problems. My brother, sister, and I noticed that he would drink alcohol, something he has never done before. He would drink a little at first and then we would notice more and more. He would even hide the alcohol so we wouldn’t find it. After we started noticing this, we decided to tell our mother since it was her brother. My uncle tried everything to cope with his problem, but nothing worked. A few months went by and he had to be put into a hospital because his liver and rest of his body were shutting down. I remember going to the hospital room and even though kids under a certain age aren’t allowed inside the rooms, they gave us an exception since he was going to die very soon.
I remember walking into the room and my uncle lying lifeless on the bed, his body yellow from the alcohol poisoning. A few days later my uncle passed away.My family had a very hard time managing with this, especially my mom since her mother and brother only died a few months apart and she was the closest to them out of the rest of her siblings. She was also dealt with what to do with my brother and sister and me after school since we were only 9, 8 and 7 years old. Since we were young, we have attended religion classes. The one woman my mom knew had a daughter who babysat. My mom decided to let her take care of us for a while. It started off good at first, but then it kept getting worse and worse. We would come home complaining so after a few months my parents came up with a decision. Since I was the oldest, they were going to let us stay home. We were not allowed to answer the phone or the door. If my parents called, they would leave us a message on the machine and we would call them back. Since we were always responsible kids, never causing a problem, we agreed.
My mom would leave food out for us every morning and we would just watch tv and play games all day. All of our neighbors knew we were home alone and they would always come and check up on us regularly. We would only be left alone for a few hours since my dad would be home by 2pm everyday, and they would even trade off taking days off work.Since then, I have learned at a very early age to be very responsible for my actions. I learned to take care of my brother and sister and to teach them things. I was their role model to look up to during the days when my parents weren’t home. Even today, I still am a very responsible person in everything that I do. I always look towards my future, I do what is right and try to help out others. From this, I learned a very important lesson that has led me to where I am today.

2006-03-15T15:45:00.000-05:00

My Grandfather was a big tall man, he was bold on top with gray hair on the sides. The whole time that i have know him he always had a gray beard to. He really was a great man, he was veryu funny to he always made me laught. He was aslo always there for me when ever i needed him. I always love going fishing with him. Me and him would go every where, he would usally tell me that he had a new fishing hole on Friday nights. So the whole night i would never beable to sleep because I would be so excited. We wold always get there in the mornings and fish untill noon or show when we would go out to get some lunch. we would sit and talk for hours it seemed. i also always loved going on boat trips with him. he had a HUGE house boat called the Star Dust. The boat was great I can still remember everything abou the boat. It had two bed rooms, two bathrooms, living room and a galley. The wood work on the boat was gorgouis, inside and out. The Mustang still needs a little bit more TLC till shes running we had runn in to a few problems this weekend. the beer ran out an money got short, so hopfully next week kids. o yah thats why i didn't finsh that blurg thing all the way.

In Her Memory

2006-03-14T17:49:00.000-05:00

I was 13 years old when the school year was coming to an end. My sister and I were getting ready to take our final exams and then preparing for our graduation. I came home from school only to receive some terrible news. My grandmother, or Nanny as we called her, was sick in the hospital. I felt so horrible upon hearing this news because I knew that something was seriously wrong since everyone knew that she hated going to the doctor. She hadn’t gone in a very long time. So I knew that this was really bad. When we came home from school the next day, we found out what was wrong. She had cancer! The doctors said she had a tumor in her stomach the size of a football. She needed surgery.
It was a Monday night during the last week of school when we had our graduation dinner. My mom and Aunt Jackie were there since my dad was at the hospital waiting to hear how her surgery went. The pastor of our parish and a close family friend gave a speech before we ate. He announced why my dad wasn’t there and led us in a prayer for my grandmother. When my dad came home later that night he told us the doctor said that tumor was too large to remove the whole thing. But, they did as much as they could. He apologized for not being at the dinner for us, but we told him that it was O.K. since Nanny needed him more.
My brother, sister, and I hadn’t seen her for about three weeks since she didn’t want us to see her that way. It was a Sunday afternoon when my parents went to see her in the hospital. We were staying at our neighbor’s house. The phone rang, it was my mom. I got on the phone and heard my nanny’s voice. She had missed us so much and wanted to talk to us. We all took turn on the phone, then we finally had to say goodbye. That just made my day so much better by just being able to hear her voice.
A couple of days later, she finally came home from the hospital. We all went to see her the next day. I remember walking into the house and seeing her lying in the brown, leather chair in the corner of the living room. Her face lit up when she saw us. We had just made her day. It almost made me cry to see her this way. I always thought that nothing like this could ever happen, especially not to her.
One week later it was my graduation day. All of my family was there, except for two important people, my Nanny and Papa. She was still in pain so my grandfather stayed home with her that day. We had my uncle tape it so she could watch it at home. It felt weird for me not having her there. She was always there for these big events. I don’t know it was worse for her, that she had to miss it, or for me, missing her not being there. Later that day, we went to her house to show her our dresses and our final report cards. I remember saving her my graduation rose.
She began to get worse and was soon in the hospital again. The treatments weren’t working, nothing would help. When my parents went to visit her one night, they took us to our grandma’s. We were lying on the couch watching a movie when the phone rang. My grandma answered the phone. After she hung up, she didn’t say a word. She walked through the kitchen into my Babci’s room and began to tell her something. I suppose that my parents didn’t want her to say anything, that they wanted to tell us themselves. But I knew right after she hung up the phone. I prevented myself from crying because I didn’t want my brother or sister to know. I just held it all in trying to tell myself that it wasn’t true. But I knew it was as soon as my parents walked through the door. The looks on their faces said it all. This is the first time that I ever saw my dad cry. He had just lost his mom. I remember just sitting there crying and crying. I never thought that I could cry so much. I cried myself to sleep for days afterward. Everyday I woke up hoping it was all just a bad dream, but it wasn’t, its reality.
It just seemed so unreal. I always thought she would be there for all of those important stages of my life and all those special days (my confirmation, high school graduation, going off to college, and even my wedding day). She always said that she wasn’t going to be there for all of these special days, but I never thought that she was actually right! I guess she knew what was happening before anyone else. I chose my confirmation name to be Marie in honor of her. We talked about it before she died, and I didn’t know what name to choose. She said Marie and I thought it would be a nice thing to do in memory of her. This is just one of the many ways that she affected my life.
I’m sad that she can’t be here to see the person that I’ve become. And to see how much she influenced me and affected my life. She taught me so many things and I will never forget that. I find myself working hard and trying to make her proud because I know that she’s watching over me.

Unexplained Absence

2006-03-14T00:59:00.000-05:00

Grandma came back from her long vacation. She looked healthier than she did before she left. I looked at her. Her yellow nails were gone. Her teeth were white. She could walk a lot better than before. She wasn’t out of breath.
“What did you do on your vacation, grandma?” I asked.
“I recovered myself,” She said.
I never knew my grandma like the way she is now. She’s more energetic and eager to do things. She wants to go the movies, out to eat and to the beach: stuff that seemed to disappear before she embarked on her long absence.
It was something different though. I started telling her all the things she missed in the past years. I told her about me becoming a musician, getting a job, living through family issues, school and love. She seemed to be wowed with all the events.
“One of the many things you missed was my high school band concerts. Over the years it’s changed so much. I play the guitar now in the jazz ensemble,” I said.
“Oh really? I can’t wait to hear you play. I think I’ll go to your next one. When is it? I’d love to hear how everyone sounds,” she said, being interested.
“March 22.”
She seemed to get excited about it. I showed her some of the songs we are going to play. She was moved by “Almost Like Being in Love.” I’m guessing she knows the song.
She was still as funny as she was, if not more.
“While you were gone, mom and dad went through thickness. Mom started cheating on dad with a guy a while ago and befriended a woman who is more absent minded than a pet rock.”
Her face contorted unhappily.
“My daughter? Wow. I couldn’t believe she would do that to you guys, including your dad.”
“I know. I don’t know what to do.” I replied.
“Sadly, I’m disappointed in that she even thinks of doing such a thing, even though I don’t know the entire story. I feel for your pain.”
It’s funny because with her being gone for so long, it almost felt like she was dead. But I know that she needed her own time alone, even if that did mean 7 years.
We enjoyed our company and went out to eat the first night she was back. We went to Friday’s. Grilled food was something my grandmother loved. Grilling in the park was always something we did at picnics. Friday’s brought this back to me.
“Remember all those times in the park on picnics?”
“Oh, how could I forget? The smell and taste of a char-broiled hot dog always is worth a day in the sun.”
She always loved her hot dogs black. I couldn’t understand it though.
Unfortunately, she’s leaving this morning to go back on her vacation. As I say goodbye to her, she whispers something in my ear.
“I was always here to witness what you thought I missed.”

2006-03-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

hi, i'm Karen. i'm putting this story on because i don't think it's that good and i need advice on it, plus i think it was a homework assignment :O) sorry it's long.

*This story is written about my nephew Travis. I have re-envisioned him in my life during Christmas. His mother and father, or my brother, are no longer together and haven’t been for some time. In April 2005, Travis’s mother announced that she doesn’t want us to see Travis anymore and my family hasn’t seen him since then. None of this actually took place, but I imagined what it would be like if it did.

It’s Christmas morning. I wake up to the sound of my nephew Travis laughing at something he found funny. I smile and wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I get out of bed and walk into the kitchen, where I see Travis sitting in his highchair eating dry Cheerios and drinking milk out of a sippy cup. I give him a kiss on the forehead and open the fridge to cut up some vegetables for my rabbit Floppy. Walking past him, I make faces and noises to make him laugh. My mom and dad, who were sitting at the table drinking coffee, tell me to go wake up my brother so we can open gifts.
Despite my lack of holiday spirit, I’m glad we have decided to celebrate Christmas this year. My mom, after losing her mother and father only a year ago, didn’t want to do the whole gift-giving, visit-your-family thing this year but I think the fact that she’d be spending it with her grandson made her change her mind. Only a few weeks ago, December 5th to be exact, Travis turned two years old and I’m sure she wanted to give him his first Christmas, since last Christmas he was in the hospital for being born prematurely.
I climb the blue-carpeted stairs up to my brother Jeff’s room. I enter without knocking because I know he’s not up and a whiff of cigarette smoke greets me.
“Jeff, get up, we’re opening presents now,” I tell him.
“Gimme five minutes.” He says into his pillow.
I go back downstairs and tell my parents what he said, to which they roll their eyes and bang on the wall to fully wake him up.
My parents go into the living room, and I follow, carrying Travis on my side. He seems happy today, tugging on my hair and reaching for my glasses to play with. A few minutes later we hear Jeff thunder down the stairs and our three dogs begin to bark at the noise. He melts onto the couch by the Christmas tree and Travis smiles and says “Daddy!”
“Hey kiddo,” Jeff says and ruffles the little amount of reddish brown hair Travis has on his head.
I sort the gifts into six piles: one for my mom, my dad, Jeff, Travis, me, and of course, the dogs. Travis has the biggest pile and we let him open a few first. He grabs the paper in his little hands and tears it open to reveal a Blue’s Clues toy, and because he recognizes the blue dog on the box, he yells “Blue!” and I can’t help but laugh at him.
Soon we’re finished opening presents and I play a game of hide-and-seek with Travis, consisting of me hiding behind chairs and wall corners and springing out at him and saying, “Boo!” while he laughs hysterically. He runs after me and I let him grab onto my orange Halloween pajamas that he’s always liked. I scoop him up into my arms and rub my nose on his and make the noises he laughs at as I walk back into the living room with him. My mom tells me to get ready because we’re going to my aunt’s house soon so I give Travis to her.
When I come out from my room to use the bathroom, I see Travis standing on a little stool at the sink, using his little orange toothbrush to brush his teeth while Jeff stands behind him to make sure nothing happens. I smile at the long string of drool hanging from Travis’s chin but Jeff doesn’t bother to wipe it off because he knows as well as I do that only more drool will follow.

We arrive at my aunt’s house, decorated in blue Christmas lights, after picking up Jeff’s friend Lindsay. My aunt opens the door and upon seeing Travis first, she exclaims how big he’s gotten and how cute he is. We enter the house and I hear some light jazz music playing and notice how nice she decorated the place since she moved in here. I notice many unicorn figurines and I know that we’ll definitely have to keep an eye on Travis so he won’t break them when he runs around.
We all sit around in a circle, watching Travis make noises and play with some dump trucks we brought along for him. We’re waiting for dinner to be ready, and my aunt suggests that Jeff plays guitar for us, since he brought along his acoustic guitar. He begins to play and Travis, noting a different sound, gets up and walks over to him and tries to touch the strings while Jeff is playing. I get up and sit Travis on my lap while my brother starts over again. He’s playing an Ani Difranco song I recognize and Lindsay begins to sing the lyrics, sounding exactly like Ani. It’s beautiful and I look around and see everyone focused on Lindsay and Jeff, amazed at the music coming from her mouth and his fingers. I already knew they were this good so I’m not really surprised. My feet start moving unconsciously and this makes Travis move up and down in my lap. He’s enjoying the movements and the music his father is making and I hold him a little closer, glad to have my amazing little nephew with our family this year.

It felt just right!

2006-03-13T20:01:00.001-05:00

The breeze felt just right against my cheeks as we rode down the long dark road with the windows slightly rolled down. Everything seemed to be a blur. The trees and the cars and the people all disappeared so fast. When I would glance his way he had a look of seriousness on his face. His eyes were always so chinky. I could hardly ever tell if his eyes were open or closed. We pulled in front of my house. I looked at the window which showed light from the inside out. It was dark outside by this time. The sky was pitch black and the moon gleamed so brightly. I could feel him staring at me in the darkness. I looked at him and our eyes met. He placed the palm of his hand onto mine. His touch sent a tremble up my spine. I don't know why but this night felt extra special. I never wanted to leave his side. I could hear voices and the sound of cars speeding outside. Then all of a sudden all of the noises vanished at once. The only thing that mattered to me was that moment. I could sense he wanted to kiss me. I wondered if he could sense the same from me. Before he began to lean inward he said something to me. I can't quite remember what it was but I know it made me smile. He always knew exactly what to say. Words were cut off by the touching of our lips. I felt passion. I felt a weird feeling in my gut that I never felt before. No thoughts consumed my mind. I was in a trance. I didn't want that moment to end. Out of all the kisses we've shared this one was the best. Maybe it was meant to be that way, after all it was the last time I had seen him. I'll never forget that moment.

welcome

2006-02-01T08:27:00.000-05:00

This will be a place for you to post your stories and respond to other stories from students in our class. Please be sure to use language and subject matter appropriate for a school setting.

I am asking that you visit the blog and post a story once a week. you should also respond to someone's stories each week as well. The more you participate in this online community the more you are demonstrating class participation. Feel free to check in and discuss something every day.

If you have any problems or concerns please let me know.

Mr. Cercone