Chipped Ice Hearts

     You get hurt, cage yourself against the world and waste away in the dungeon you built yourself. Fear keeps you strangled and hand cuffed in a dark slimy corner. You are only a shadow of who you were, that child full of life, innocent, naive of the evils of people surrounding you. Friends turn to enemies and suddenly your very happy, alive world is shattered. Shards of porcelain on cement, the delicate rose unaccustomed to such harsh conditions shrivels up and dries out. You build walls, brick by brick to keep everyone out, until you realize you're not alone. Others hurt like you hurt. They hurt you because they hurt.
     We're all human, we'd like to believe our hearts are made of duct tape, so strong and invincible, but even duct tape tears and wears, our human hearts and souls are fragile, delicate porcelain, a hunk of ice and every piece chipped off shapes us and we'll never be the same, if you tried putting the chipped pieces back, they'd melt, they'll never fit perfectly.
     You take a step out into the pain, your heart screaming at you,
     "Go back you fool! You want more pain?"
      You know it's like walking on thin, cracking ice and just hoping you don't drown when you fall through but your head argues back firmly,
      "You know trust will hurt you, maybe you are a fool, being blind, but there are people who need you, people who hurt that you will understand and touch. Trust is stupid, it hurts, it's scary. But sometimes you gotta brace yourself for the pain and trust. At least you know it's coming, and now you know how far to go with it, just enough to live?..."
     And you follow your head 'cause you know we're all chipped ice hearts, shaped by circumstances, looking for answers, all vulnerable, fragile. You aren't alone!


     Last night I was looking through my diary and found this un-dated between December 9 and 13 and I wanted to share it. Something a little more positive than what I've been posting lately?:)

To Save a Life -

Rain's diary:  

                                                                 Oct. 13

     Do they even know what their words are doing to me? I walk past them in the halls and all they talk about is me, like I'm a thing; 'she' and 'her' like my name is poison. How did I deserve this reputation? What did I ever do to them?

     "Did you hear what she did?"
 
     "They say that she will do anything for a guy."

     "Poor girl, so ugly, only way she can get attention is being a whore! No guy would want anything serious with her."

     And their looks piercing me through. Don't they see how brittle and aching my heart and soul are? How they're breaking me? All I ever tried to do was fit in. 
     This is the result of hurt... it's like a domino effect. You hurt, you feel threatened so you hurt back, you hurt others and the hurt ripples from person to person all around the planet because everyone is connected. It's ironic really, I'm so normal, to have this reputation, school slut, and it kills because I've always tried so hard to be the good girl, I'm a people pleaser, I wanna make everyone happy, everyone like me. It's crazy how fast a reputation can be smeared... this was Jake's revenge... I hope it makes him feel good.

____________________________________________

     
     Hailee's diary:

                                              Oct. 15

     I don't get it! I don't get how it makes someone feel so much more superior to put someone else down! So there's this girl at school, Rain, she just moved to the area and started school a week late so she was a little behind everyone else. Rain is gorgeous, she's Latino, perfect skin, perfect hair, these melt you expressive brown eyes and she's not petite but she's perfect when it comes to weight. Well, first day during lunch hour, Jake noticed her, of course, Jake gets everything good first, anyone else get's sloppy seconds, and Jake is a player. He woos a girl, gets what he wants and dumps her. But he also is extremely attractive when you first meet him and he get's good grades, so when he offered to help Rain catch up, she fell for it. 

     Rain and Jake started going out about a week later, and by the rules of the popular kids, the other girls had to accept her, she was Jake's girlfriend, and even though they were jealous, she was treated like a queen. But a week later he dumped her and rumors started going around that she cheated on him multiple times in that short week they were together. Now she's titled slut and the popular girls, daily treat her like scum. I came into the bathroom today and someone was in one of the stalls crying,  it was Rain.
     I'm the quiet girl. I know the truth about everything because I listen. I'm not hated or loved by anyone in the school. I don't have enemies or friends. I'm just the neutral girl, the girl that if someone needs an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, I'm there and everyone knows that. You tell me a secret, I take it to the grave with me.

     I waited and in a few minutes Rain came out, she looked surprised to see someone was in there, but when I asked her if she was okay, she opened up and told me her side of the story with her and Jake, I guess she just needed to get it out, someone to believe her and take her side.

     "When will I ever learn to quit trusting people?!" the agony in her tone was painful to hear.

     "I'm sorry he hurt you. We should have warned you. It really wasn't fair not to."

     "My reputation, I just got here, I was like, I've finally left my past where it is and I've got a new start, a new school, new people to make friends with, well so much for that!" She wiped fresh tears. "You know I'm not a slut don't you? I didn't cheat on Jake..." 

     "I know you didn't." I assure.

     "Truth is, I'm a virgin, honestly, I'm afraid to lose it, I'm afraid of turning into what my mom is, I'm afraid of a lot of things actually, I'm just not ready for that yet, Jake wanted to go faster than I wanted, I said no and he... tried to anyways." she trails off. "He broke up with me and smeared my name to all the popular kids, who I thought were my friends but now I see they were just waiting for his command so they could rip me to shreds and it kills me, I'm a people pleaser, I just wanted to make him happy, he was so good to me at first -" she started to push up the cuffs of her long sleeve shirt but then quickly pulled them down again, but I noticed the scars, some were fresh, angry red. She avoided my eyes in the mirror, a fake smile on her face. 

     How can he do that? Doesn't get what he wants so he turns a perfectly innocent life upside down? It makes me sick! This world is just wrong!

________________________________________________________

Rain's diary:

                                                                 Jan. 21

     I wonder how they'll feel when they found out I'm not coming back to school? Wonder if they'll eventually miss me, if they'll be relieved, what will people say?

     I miss dad! I miss the way things used to be before he left us. I wish life would go back to normal. 

     I hate that mom works all the time. At least her occupation isn't what killed my reputation here, like the last school, no kid wants to be friends with a hookers daughter. Dad would have died before he let mom sell herself to support us. Life is so hopeless. Everyone changes. Mom changed, I've changed, we used to be so close, now she has no clue the scars on my arms, she has no clue what I'm going through, I have to hide it all and look strong, look like I don't give a care about the world hating me all around me caving in on me. It's so hopeless. I don't want to keep going. I'm tired. So tired. I don't feel like I can take one more breath. 

     Why can't just one person look at me for who I am? Maybe Hailee could... if I gave her a chance but it's too scary. I talked to her for a few minutes in the bathroom, Hailee's the kind of girl that somehow her ears are magnetic to your thoughts and tongue and it all just comes spilling out of you, everything that hurts and she listens and it's like salve the way she understands. Why didn't I meet her sooner?
     It feels too late, too hard, I'm done. I wanna give up and die. Just leave without saying goodbye, do everyone a favor, mom won't have to sell herself to support me, she'll be able to just get a guy and stay with him and he'll support her without me, a teenage daughter changing their minds about her. Why does life have to be so painful? I stole a bottle of mom's sleeping pills and some Vodka, I downed it a bit ago and I've started on the Vodka. I'm done with this daily torture, I'm done with the scars, life's not worth the struggles. I'm giving up...

_______________________________________________________

Hailee's Diary:

                                                                                        Jan. 23 

     I'm so horrified, I'm sickened by the kids in school, the way they treated Rain and the fact that the things that they are saying today. Rain overdosed on sleeping pills and Vodka late the 21st. She left her diary open on her bed, a suicide note? Or just writing out the pain...

     Those scars on her wrists, the haunted look in her eyes, I could have stopped it, I know I could have, I could have been her friend, somehow I know I could have stopped it... but I didn't! I didn't even try! 

     When she talked to me in the bathroom that day in October, I could have helped her somehow but I didn't! Because I'm the quiet girl, I don't push myself on people. I should have seen it coming. I know people. But I didn't see it. And in that I'm just as bad as the rest who bullied her. 

     I feel so guilty that I didn't stop her, almost like I killed her. She was so beautiful, so amazing, she had the most gorgeous smile and watching it fade away like death... watching the life and hope seep out of her, they never even knew a thing about her, only what they wanted to know, and they judged her by the conclusions they drew on information they conjured up out of hate. 

     Could have it been stopped? Could have I stopped her? How could I have known what to do to save her life...?

Picture

    He lifts the colored glass to his lips, he doesn’t even taste the fiery liquid he’s draining down his throat. His movements are so dejected and hopeless. He hasn’t shaved in a while, his clothes are dirty and rumpled. His mood seems to match the atmosphere. The decor in the tiny motel room he’s living in is outdated. The place has a run down, dark feeling. The shades are drawn, clothes are strewn across the floor and the bed which he is using as a seat is unmade. He paid her and she left, no strings attached, but he misses her. How long has it been? Weeks? Months? He kneels clumsily to the floor and sweeps his hand under the bed, a wooden picture frame skitters across the floor and he picks it up. His vision is blurred by whiskey and tears.
    “I miss you.” the words come out as a sob, his shoulders are hunched and his posture broken. He reaches for his phone and dials her number, praying that she’ll pick up, if only she’ll have him back, he knows he’ll change and be the man she needs him to be.

    She wakes with a start, it was so real, so clear, he was here with her again, his arms around her, she looks at the face next to hers on the pillow and reality hits, he’s gone. She reaches into the top drawer of the dresser next to her bed and pulls out a wooden picture frame, tracing his features with a slender finger, she allows the tears to come as she reminisces the good times with him. Their first kiss, the proposal, she feels for the ring hanging on the chain around her neck. He left before the wedding, she’d called him every day for weeks and finally gave up. Cried herself sick and got over him, moved on, or tried. Now she was with someone else and he treated her well, they were married with a child on the way. But she wondered if he ever missed her. She still thought about him every day and she wondered if it was wrong.
    “I miss you.” the words come out as a sob, her cell phone rings, she looks over at her sleeping husband and then at the caller ID, it’s him. She rejects the call and reaches to unfasten the chain around her neck, “I loved you. But you’re too late.” She puts the necklace and ring on top of the picture frame and shoves it deeper into the drawer, face down. Then slipping back under the covers, she presses against her husband’s back, drawing on his strength and  heat.
    Her phone beeps. A new voice message.

    “Hey babe it was crazy to call at this time of night, I don’t know I guess I just called to say I love you I wanna come back home.” He sets his phone next to him on the bed and lays back, the Whiskey finally taking effect and knocking him unconscious.
    He drives the three hours back to his hometown, where they met and dated, got engaged and would have gotten married if he could have been satisfied, his heart is half hopeful and half hopeless. He knows he doesn’t deserve her forgiveness and is stupid to hope that she would even wait around. He drives by her old house several times trying to get courage to go talk to her. Finally he parks and walks slowly across the street, glowing with early morning light. A hesitant knock on the front door and he’s answered by a man, about his build, good looking, young, puzzled.
    “Can I help you?”
    “I was just looking for Sheryl Rock, but she probably doesn’t even live here anymore, sorry to waste your time.” Then as an afterthought, “Who are you?”
    “I’m Sheryl’s husband. Would you like to talk to her? She’s right inside.” he offers.
    “No. That’s alright. Treat her right man, you’re one lucky guy.” and he turns away, hands in his pockets, not looking back, he crosses the street back to his car, leaving behind the only girl who would ever truly love him, his only shot at true happiness, wasted by cheap temporary pleasure.

    She’s quieter than normal, thinking about her dream, thinking about her decision to leave him in the past and move on. Her husband asks if she’s okay and she brushes him off,
    “Fine, just tired.” He sits with her in the silence, and she can feel his support and love. A knock on the front door interrupts their breakfast. The husband answers the door. She hears a male voice. Familiar. But she can’t make out the words. When her husband comes back she looks at him inquisitively.
    “A guy looking for a Sheryl Rock.” Her husband says quietly. Her eyes jerk from her food to his face and a look passes between them, silent communication. He’d come in search of her, finally, gotten sick of his wild living and realized what he had given up. She was surprised to find a small glimmer of hope and gratefulness, when she lost him, she thought she’d never be whole again, but turns out sometimes a broken heart is a blessing in disguise.

  Inspired by the song "Picture" by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crowe ... November 29, 2012

The Tragedy of True Love

Okay so it's been like 3 weeks since I posted anything on here, this is a story I wrote awhile ago and yes it is quite cheesy and it's just a rough first copy, not very well written, needs to be rewritten but I'm too lazy right now. It originated from Emily and my texts back and forth some random joking around and out of it worked this little plot... I guess a tragic comedic romantic tale...thought about making it into a play, we'll see if that ever goes anywhere. =)


It is said, in a little town called Maradox, that after midnight the ghost of a young woman haunts the streets looking to avenge her death and that of her fiance. Personally, I know this is not true, her death has already been avenged. I know because the beautiful Francesca was my only true love and I hers.
    Francesca and I had been secret lovers from childhood, but I was an orphan with no money and no name and she was the daughter of a gentleman.
    She would sneak out to see me after midnight and we would sit until dawn, watching the stars and planning our future. We would run away together and be married and make a life for ourselves. We were oblivious to reality, happy in each other’s company, lost in the passion and innocence of of stolen kisses by moonlight, the gentle caress of her soft fingertips on my face, our heart beats blending until they were one rhythm.
     But the sun set all too soon in our little paradise, when my little Francesca struck the fancy of the rich oaf Willy Brutus. Brutus was - for lack of better words - hideous! He was disgustingly over weight and he had the most grotesque eating habits of anyone I have ever observed. I swear he managed to get more food spilled onto his shirt front than humanly possible, grease and excess saliva dribbling from his pink puffy lips into his scraggly beard the shade of fire, and he greedily slurped the food from his stubby over sized fingers between bites, so as not to miss a morsel. He jokes too loudly and has a snorting laugh like a donkey. When he’s not talking he’s wheezing, and his voice is raspy and he gasps as he talks as if he is constantly out of breath.
    But, money covers over a multitude of hideous imperfections - at least for Francesca’s family it did. My poor darling Francesca. When she told me she was engaged to Brutus, she could hardly stop crying long enough for me to understand. I held her in my arms, all my dreams of us like shattered glass - unfixable.
     “Don’t cry my love, I’ll find a way to rescue you yet. I promise!” I felt like Romeo, a desperate lover who’s life was about to be snuffed out, what was life without love?
     The wedding swiftly approached, the night before she was to be married we spent the hours before dawn together, one last time, plotting an elopement. I was to come for her at noon and ask her family for her. As a desperate final resort we would elope, but only if permission for our marriage was denied.
    The wedding day arrived, not a cloud in the brilliant blue sky, sun shining, birds singing joyfully. I almost had hope. The whole world was so hopeful, maybe things would turn out after all. I met Francesca in the garden that surrounded her family’s mansion at noon as planned, with an excited kiss and a final whispered 'I love you', my eager pace quickly swallowed the distance to the veranda. I looked back as I reached for the door, a distressed cry arresting my hand in mid-air.
    The sight made me sick. Brutus was stooped over my love’s lifeless form, he kissed her roughly, then turned to leave, but not before our eyes met and I knew there would be trouble in it for me.
    Recklessly, I flew back to Francesca’s motionless corpse and threw myself onto the ground next to her. I could see now what had happened, Brutus must have watched us in the garden and when I left came upon her, alone, hurling her down the stone steps where she gashed her temple on the corner of the last step. Blood pooled around her ashen face. I looked around desperately and caught sight of the terrified pixie face and blond ringlets of Lucy, Francesca’s young cousin.
    “Lucy! Get help! Tell the family!” I pleaded.
    “They won’t believe you sir! You better run. They’ll believe me better if I tell them that I saw Brutus do it.” her ruby lower lip trembled and her large blue eyes were glassy from tears. I nodded and ran, blinded by pain and loss.
    I wandered for days unable to think or feel or do anything but grieve the loss of my lover. Finally I realized I had to pull myself together and I had to make Brutus pay, but first I would say goodbye to Francesca once more. I asked around and found out where her grave was.
    Despite the dark, her grave was easy to find, a big blubbering Brutus was kneeling next to it,
    “Fran, oh Fran, I’m sorry, I know it was awful wicked of me, I just-” He sounded strangled, and then I saw it, white, almost transparent fingers reaching for his throat, he tried to back away but the smoke like fingers caught his shirt collar and he leaned forwards as if the grip was choking him.
    “Fran, I swear, I’d do anything to have you back - “ he choked, “I love - “ I snuck up behind him, rage blinding me and shoved him forwards into the grave that was still open. There was a thud, cracking and then a shriek.
    “Not into my grave you idiot! Go bury him in a lake! Oh heavens I don’t care where, but not my grave!” followed by Brutus’s heavy body hurtled towards me. He landed, in an awkwardly bent position at my feet.
    “Francesca?!” I whispered.
    “Clark, take care of him, throw him in a river for all I care, but I refuse to let my grave be defiled by that man, whew I can breathe again, thought he’d squish the life outta me!”
     “But you’re - “ I stuttered.
     “I know, I’m already dead.” She finished for me with a laugh, “Squish the ghost life outta me! It’s midnight ya know, I come back from midnight until dawn to find you.” I felt suddenly very self conscious, I was talking to a ghost... or was I talking to myself? Was I going crazy?
     “Show me you’re real.” I demanded. From the grave floated my beautiful Francesca. She was reminded me of smoke the way she was solid and yet transparent and invisible and yet very there. She was white. Lifeless and so vividly full of life all at once. We laughed and cried and hugged and she entwined cold thin fingers through mine and then we walked until dawn, soaking up the time together. This wasn’t the forever we had planned but all the same we had a forever of midnight to dawns together and no one could interfere.
     I still walk with her every night. We watch the stars and talk about all the stuff that lovers talk about. To this day the death of Francesca and her fiance Brutus are still a mystery. Some have suspected me, some suspect that it was Brutus and he committed suicide after, some believe she took her own life, only Francesca, Brutus and I know the true account... oh and now you of course. And that is the story behind the ghost that haunts the streets of Maradox!

A Miracle Mistaken

A Miracle Mistaken 

We've made a mess

I'm scared to death

I can't confess 

I hold my breath 

This can't be real

I'm numb inside

I cannot feel

I try to hide

Try to deny

And you get mad

You know I lie

I feel so bad

But I'm afraid

If I admit

The mistake made

I can't hide it

It will be there

I'm not ready 

No one will care

I am unsteady

People will judge

I'll disappoint

They'll hold a grudge

Can't see the point

Miracle child

A pure beauty

But it's defiled

By impurity

Ashamed of it

It's not to blame

Not fair but it 

Will bear my shame

Beautiful child

Redeeming grace

Innocence wild

Washing all trace

My redemption 

My sweet pardon

For temptation

I took part in

A second chance

To get it right

To get this dance

Perfect tonight

You're mine forever

I'd never trade you

I hope forever

You'll be pure and true.

~Anna Marie~

    -September 26, 2012-

Eternity's Clock

Wow the things you find cleaning out your closet! :) I wrote this poem a couple years ago.

ETERNITY'S CLOCK

As I glance at Eternity's clock

I know I have done wrong

My fear time seems to mock

I know there isn't long.

I gaze up at the wall

And hear the clock of time

On my ear its voice falls

And I ask how long 'til it chimes?

Above are Heaven's gates

Opened wide to all 

Beneath the clock, Hell waits

For me to step wrong and fall.

Then I hear a voice

Gently call my name

And I finally make my choice

My life will never be the same.

Honest Critiquing

I've been thinking about writing style and such and I'd love if I could get some honest critiquing of my writing. Stuff like do I not develop the characters or plot enough, do I build up and then let you down with my endings? Do I tell too much instead of showing? Is my writing dry? Please, I'm looking for honesty not sugar coated compliments 'cause sometimes you can see weaknesses in my writing that I can't and I really would love to improve so ideas???

Fate

     Originally posted with the title Haunted on Wordpress then re-posted as Fate on my Tumblr. I was just having fun with words, but I gotta admit this was written during one of my dark periods.


     Sometimes I feel so hollow and empty and void inside, just full of darkness in an unfilled, lonely, aching way and yet it’s numb…. how can u feel so much and so little at once. Angry black clouds thundering over my soul, lightning ripping through my heart, tearing me to pieces and I shatter like porcelain and fall to the ground like a scared little girl, building walls around myself to block out the pain but it’s inside of me, echoing on the stone walls, the vast emptiness inside me hurling the words, swirling around me until I sink into the deepest despair, hurting myself worse by trying to block myself from the light where no love can touch me.
     I tend daily to the grudges and scars like a little flower garden, but it’s a garden the color of death, everything shades of grey and wilted and dead. Everything breathes cold aloneness and desolate, barren, wastelands, like frozen muck ruts in winter…. snow covering everything in sight, snow is beautiful right? But something about this isn’t beautiful in the slightest, not that I can see, can you find beauty through lonely aching, through gaping wounds that won’t heal, hot pus oozing from the disgusting scabs, and the scars are worse, ugly, thick and fluorescent white… sticking out marring the landscape.
     I need someone, I KNOW I need someone, but I can’t get through the walls I made, the fortress I’ve built to guard my heart has become my own prison and I claw the walls til my fingers bleed and I won’t get anywhere. As I lay my head against the wall and watch the streaks of blood from my torn fingers run slowly down the stone wall towards the ground thirsting for my blood the tears come, hot tears almost blood themselves. What have I become?
     The demons inside of me are tearing me apart and I can’t escape, I can’t climb the walls of this hell hole I’m trapped inside, I can’t claw through them, there’s no way to escape, so I just turn and look my demons in the eyes, facing my fate head on spreading my arms not even flinching when they shred my chest to get to my heart and soul. I look at in their hands and am empty, I don’t feel, I don’t think, I’m like a zombie as they chain me against the cool clammy walls. I sink to the miry, cold, hard floor without a struggle… I’m resigned to my fate… spending eternity in this dark wasteland reeking of death inside of me.

She Thought She Was Invincible

The sky was oppressively grey and a brisk wind cut through Janna Karlson’s jacket, chilling her as she walked into it. The time was only five but it felt like it was at least nine, but the time always felt later during the long Minnesotan winters because of Daylight Savings time. She zipped her black sports jacket up to her chin and shoved her hands deep into her pockets. The wind seeped through her jeans and her legs ached with the cold. It was only mid-November but there had already been snow, most of it had melted leaving just a little as a reminder that winter was coming.
    Janna reached for her cell phone wedged into her back jean pocket, then remembered that it was dead and sighed. She was almost home anyways, another mile. She had been dropped off at her best friend’s place a couple miles from her, after school to do homework together. Their parents were gone so Janna had decided to walk home after, it was only a little over two miles and she figured she could make it before dark. But dark was approaching fast and she knew she had another half an hour walk at least. She picked up her pace to a quick walk, despite feeling numbed and fatigued.
     Her mom had warned her against this, walking alone after dark, especially on this road, it was remote and hardly populated, you could walk a mile without running into any traffic or houses, out in the middle of nowhere. So many times she had argued with her mom,
    “Nothing would ever happen mom! And if anybody stopped, I’d just run or beat them up or hide in the ditch.” She felt confident in her abilities to escape. “Mom! Just chill! Those things only happen on TV shows or in books, what are the chances that I’ll get abducted, raped, murdered? What are the chances?”
     “As good as any other girl’s chances.” her mom had insisted but she wrote her mom off, what did her mom know? She was just overly paranoid! But now she was starting to get nervous, she kept checking behind herself, scanning the woods around her, all the horror stories she had ever read or watched started playing through her mind. She blocked them out and pressed on towards home, but she wished that she had at least thought to charge her cell phone.
    A car came around the corner making her jump and scream. She laughed at herself still a bit shaky as she watched the taillights of the car disappear around the next bend. It was now completely dark and freezing cold. She was just about to turn into her driveway when she heard something behind her. She froze, holding her breath, straining to hear the noise.
    “It’s nothing, Stupid! Quit being so paranoid!” she muttered to herself, moving forwards again.
    
    Darwin Clinton stepped out into the frigid night air, sometimes he wondered if his habit was worth it since his wife refused to let him smoke inside especially with the new baby and all. He sighed, lighting his cigarette he pulled in a long drag and let it out slowly, the white streaming through the dark night air, illuminated by the light from the window behind him.
    He watched as a car drove around the circle drive that he lived off of along with several neighbors, and suddenly the lights turned off and a moment later he heard the engine turn off at the other end of the loop next to the Karlson’s. He figured it must be a visitor, but he thought it weird that they’d have company when no one was home. He’d stopped by just earlier and they’d been gone and he could see all the lights were still out. He wasn’t snoopy though and he quickly forgot about it, his mind mulling over more important things, like his job and being a dad now.
    A terrified scream pierced the biting winter air jerking Darwin back to the present. He tossed the remainder of his cigarette over the porch and listened again. He heard the engine of the car and without thinking started running toward where the scream had come from, all the while cursing himself for not taking note of the unfamiliar car and the weird behavior.
    He reached the spot but there was no one there, the car was gone. He pulled out his phone and shone around on the ground looking for evidence, fresh tire tracks, not like that was evidence, he knew it had been there. Then in some snow to his right he saw something dark. Blood. A trail of it to where tracks showed the car had been parked, like someone had a bad nose bleed or a minor cut. His numb fingers fumbled to dial 911.
    “They were just here within the last ten minutes. I saw the car come through here, turn off his lights about there and then kill the engine in this spot. I thought they might be a visitor of the Karlson’s who live right here but a few minutes later I heard a scream, it sounded like a girl’s and she sounded pretty scared.” Darwin told the police pointing out the Karlson’s and his own place, “By the time I got down here from my place just up there, they were gone.”
    “Do you know the Karlson’s well? Do you know where they are tonight or have any clue who the girl might have been if it was a girl?” The officer questioned, his flashlight beam made a large light patch on the frozen gravel at their feet.
    “Yeah we’re pretty good friends, I’m not sure where they are tonight, I know they do have a daughter but I’m not sure if it was her or not. You want me to call Karlson’s right now?”
    “You could do that. We’re going to investigate a little.”
    Darwin walked off a few feet, scrolling through the contacts in his phone and selected Mason Karlson’s cell phone. It rang three times before the line clicked and a deep male voice answered,
    “Hello, this is Mason.”     
    “Hey Mason, this is Darwin, is Janna with you guys?”
    “No. She should be home. She was going over to her friend’s after school and was going to get a ride home from her friend’s mom.”
    “Well, I’m standing outside your house right now and it’s pretty dark in there. Looks still to me.” Darwin turned to look at his neighbor’s quiet house.
    “Really? Maybe she stayed at her friend’s, I don’t know.” Mason sounded a little annoyed now and Darwin hurried to explain.
    “I’m sorry I sound rude, but the only reason I called is because there are police out here investigating what looks like it could have been a kidnapping out in front of your place and I was hoping your daughter was safe.”
    “A what?” Mason’s voice had a hint of panic in it now. “You know what? Donna and I will be right home, we’re only a couple miles.”
    “Alright. I’ll talk to you then.” Darwin hung up.
    Before too long, more headlights showed up. Mason parked in front of the garage and a very distressed Donna hurried from the passenger side,
    “We called her cell phone and it’s off, so we called her friend and she supposedly left a couple hours ago before dark.” Donna called anxiously, her stiletto heels making it hard for her to hurry across the icy pavement. She looked around the grim group of men and all of her hope faded. “What are we going to do Mason?” she whispered, reaching for her husband’s arm to steady herself. He wrapped his arms around her,
    “I don’t know darling. All we can do at this point is pray, let’s get you inside then I’ll talk to the officers and see what can be done.” He lead her slowly towards the house. She seemed dazed and cooperative. Darwin watched the couple go, grief and sympathy for them searing his heart like the hot pain of a torn muscle.  
    “Is there anything you can do?” Mason later beseeched the officers after his wife was safely settled inside.
     “There’s really very little we can do with so little evidence, we have no way to know anything about the abduction if that’s what it was. I’m sorry. We’ll do what we can though. I promise that.” And they left. Darwin put his hand on his neighbor’s shoulder.
    “I’m here man, whatever we can help with my wife and I will do!” Mason nodded numbly,
    “Thanks Darwin.” They went their separate ways, Darwin walked back through the biting night air to his warm house, his wife and brand new baby girl, but Mason stood for a long time staring at the night sky. Praying for the first time in a long time, praying that God would bring his baby girl back to them safely.

    But the desperate prayers and all the worrying and waiting and looking were pointless. When Janna was found, all they found was her mutilated, lifeless body, frozen stiff in a ditch, half dressed and beat up.
    A week of sleepless nights had gone by. A week of worrying, praying, tears, and then her body was found, hardly ten miles from home.
    The funeral was held that weekend.
    Mason looked down into the angelic face of his sleeping daughter, tears filling his downcast eyes, tears of regret, he felt he could have stopped it somehow, if only he had investigated before the scream, tears of pain for the Karlson family, and tears of fear of the world that his innocent child had to grow up in. A soft, unsure, female voice brought his eyes back to the stage.
    “First I want to thank everyone for the support that you have given my husband and me in this horrifying nightmare of losing Janna. And secondly, I want to say something for Janna. You can never be too careful! You girls who think that something like this would never happen to you, that’s what Janna thought. We had so many fights over her safety. I am a mother so I am paranoid, but I only wanted to protect my baby from the people I knew were out there. You think that you could fight off an attacker, but more likely than not you couldn’t! Please don’t make the same mistake that Janna made! Please, please watch yourself and stay safe!” Her voice was tearful and beseeching, full of passion, pleading with her audience. Girls were crying, a couple of Janna’s friends huddled in a front row, crying and hugging. Silent tears coursed down Mrs. Karlson’s face as she finished,
    “You’re not invincible! It happened to Janna, in a small town, and she thought she was invincible!”

Silence

     Her face was hard and blank. She sat across from me, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other twisting her toes in little circles, her Mocha Latte steaming on the edge of the table in front of her. She refused to meet my eyes, refused to let me in.
     "I know you have no reason to trust anyone." I say softly, longing to reach out and touch this girl I've met for coffee, help her, make it alright. "And if you don't trust me, I"ll understand, but I want you to know that I am going to be here for you, I may not have the answers but I care about your life and your pain." I gripped my coffee tighter, bringing it up to my mouth I took a sip, it scorched my tongue and I scrubbed it against my teeth trying to get rid of the burnt sensation.
     She looked at me with eyes, glassy from unshed tears, and for a moment I felt as if a window to her soul  had been opened and I was seeing her for who she really was, a lost scared child, alone and aching for love and forgiveness, compassion, help, someone to come along beside her and lead her to the light. For that moment, her expressive green eyes entreated me to help her. She leaned forwards, arms on the table, pleading with me to take away the pain.
     I hesitated, searching for words, and just as quickly as she had opened up, she closed the shutters, securing behind the safe familiar chains, the entrance to her soul. My heart longed to tell her how in closing out the pain, she was chaining out the love she so desperately longed for as well. In trying to protect herself from hate and hurt and the nightmares that kept haunting her, she was really guarding herself from love and healing, that she would never find freedom from blocking out the tragedies and nightmares, denying that the scars are there when they are so obviously there, so real and vivid and painful, she would never find the healing and security she longed for.
     But as I groped for the answers, my mind felt empty, I realized I had nothing to offer this hurting girl. We continued to sit, the desperate ticking of the clock as the seconds slipped away and we avoiding each others gaze continued in agonizing, hopeless silence.

Miss Sneezy's Family

     My latest story, a children's story... Thoughts? I think I'll write a couple more in the series, already have a few more ideas. Any of you have ideas? :)

     Miss Sneezy lives with her puppy Daisy and her cat Caesar in the middle of a town called Birchmont. Her residence is a rickety attic apartment above a a print shop by the name of Inky Fingers' Print Shop. Inky Fingers is the owner, the print shop has been passed down many generations and if you'll sit long enough, Inky loves to drone on about his family history. He's very long winded and never tires of telling the same story as often as anyone ill listen to him. His living quarters are at the back of the shop.
     When Miss Sneezy found this dwelling, though a bit dusty and musty, she felt extremely fortunate. Inky was lonely for company so he offered her a low price and a job as his house keeper and really they  got along well. Inky felt that the goodies that Sneezy baked by far outweighed the small annoyance of her late night creakings as she paced the floor above him, plotting her latest novel and the clickety-clacking of her typewriter as she tapped away at the keys, putting her splendid ideas onto paper, he thought was rather lulling. And for Miss Sneezy, she didn't mind so much the musty smell of her room, it was, after you got used to it rather romantic and inspiring, like an old used book shop. And Inky's loud snoring hardly disturbed her racing thoughts and fingers. Even the dust Was thought provoking, sparkling through the air as light streamed through the window, illuminating it. So it was a fine arrangement.
     Miss Sneezy's sister, Georgia, did not share these sentiments. Georgia with her little turned up nose and perfect blond curls was disgusted by her sister inhabiting such a place! She had tried to convince her to find something more sophisticated, but Miss Sneezy reminded her she was only a writer, not a celebrity, she did not need anything fancy, nor did she have the finances.
     Georgia refused to call on Miss Sneezy once she was moved into the attic, unless it was absolutely unavoidable. She had tolerated the animal hair and dandruff from Caesar and Daisy, though if either came within ten feet of her she stared them down with a steely glare sending them whimpering in the other direction. She had set her teeth when Miss Sneezy offered "More tea George?" though George was a perfectly hideous name and it made her want to scream. But the print shop, the musty attic... and the eccentric Inky Fingers, was intolerable! Inky frightened and bored her and she was sure one of these days the decrepit floor boards would just fall apart. So she no longer called on her sister Miss Sneezy.
     Miss Sneezy had a large family, six siblings in all. Besides Georgia there were Knightly, a fine gentleman in progress, Skippy, a little butterfly of a girl and 'such a dear!' as Miss Sneezy often put it, Bubbles, always laughing and quite over dramatic, then were Georgia and herself, Prim was a Victorian stoic, Giggles a wonderful tease and Hero, the oldest was everyone's favorite, married to his sweet little wife, Darling, they had the cutest baby in the entire world (forgive me for being biased) his name was Charles, but they called him Chubby.
     Prim and Giggles lived in a little country house which considering their extreme opposite personalities is really a wonder they got along at all, but they did and Prim raised horses, and Giggles sold vegetables and baked goods at a little stand by the road.
     Today was Friday, the day that Giggles baked for her stand, and Sneezy always helped her. She slipped on her favorite apron and kissed Daisy's wet pink nose,
     "Now Dear, don't you trouble Inky and don't get into a squabble with Caesar, you just be a good little puppy while mommy is gone!" Daisy wagged her tail excitedly, and licked Miss Sneezy's face.
     "Caesar." Miss Sneezy turned to the large black cat sunning himself in the window, "I'm leaving you in charge. I won't be out too late." Caesar yawned and lazily stretched then settled more comfortably on the sill, trying to disguise the importance he felt with indifference.
     As the door closed behind her, Miss Sneezy sighed to herself.
      "I do hope they behave!" She worried. A sudden tickle in her nose distracted her thoughts and she sneezed loudly several times, almost falling down the rickety steps in the middle of the print shop.
     "Bless you!" Inky exclaimed coming into view below. Miss Sneezy scrubbed her itchy nose furiously with her palm, relieving a bit of the discomfort and giving a loud snort as she descended the creaking staircase.
     "Thank you deary!"
     "Are you going out?" Inky inquired,
     "It's Friday." She reminded, "Baking day!" she smiled up at him, though Inky was short, she was shorter yet.
     "That's right. Well goodbye then."
     "Bye!" she bustled out the door, only to pop her head in a moment later, "Keep an ear out for Daisy and Caesar, will ya? They've been quarreling lately and I'm just a bit uncomfortable with leaving them home alone together."
     "I'll let Daisy down to be with me, don't fret Miss Sneezy, I'll take care of it!"
     "Oh, thank you! You're such a dear!" She blew a kiss.
     "Bring me some blueberry pop tarts when you come!" Inky called after her.
     "I will." She promised then chuckled to herself as she hopped onto her motorcycle,
     "I should have known he had a selfish ulterior motive behind that sugar sweetness! He's such a dear!" She turned the key and her motorcycle roared to life and she shot off over the bumpy paved road towards Giggles' cottage.
     "Woo hoo! I'm here!" She announced not bothering to knock, then sneezed loudly three times.
     "I could hear you from the moment you started that bike of yours! And your sneeze could wake the dead, at least use a tissue! I don't want germs all over my goodies!" Giggles bustled, shoving a tissue towards her sister. Giggles always carried an extra tissue with her and was forever blowing her nose.
     Sneezy gingerly took the tissue and set it on a chair, tissues made her queasy, even clean ones. She sneezed again, this time away from Giggles baked goods.
     "Wash your hands and you can make the pop tarts." Giggles instructed cheerfully.
     "Inky ordered at least a dozen blueberry pop tarts." Sneezy announced.
     "Okay, I'll put that into your share of the final goods." Giggles offered.
     "Thank you." Just then a staccato rap on the door interrupted them.
     "Prim!" Giggles shrieked. Prim came out of a back room, a thick textbook in front of her face and gold rimmed glasses on the tip of her aristocratic nose.
     "Yes Giggles?" She looked at them over her spectacles.
     "Someone's at the - " Another staccato rap interrupted her. Prim answered the door.
     "Georgia." She greeted primly, "Bubbles, Knightly, Skippy." She gave them all a stiff hug.
     "Welcome, make yourself at home Dears!" Giggles called.
     "Oh! It's just like a family reunion!" Bubbles squealed hugging first Giggles then Sneezy and last of all Prim, leaving the last with a loud dramatic smooch on the cheek. "All of us here this is wonderful! I really love this house, so quaint and sweet. I've always liked the country too. I'm still working on convincing mom and pops to move into that little farm house late Farmer Jack owned. I think it would be lovely living out in such a peaceful place." Bubbles rattled off at lightening speed. hardly pausing for breath. As she continued to chatter gaily to Giggles. Prim had retreated and Knightly and Skippy had helped themselves to cookies and milk and were seated at the counter conversing about butterflies and plans for their tree fort. Georgia stiffly resting her delicate snowy glove on Sneezy's arm, invited her for a short stroll, down the lane. Sneezy obliged.
     "I wanted to once again-" Georgia was interrupted by a sneeze from her sister that echoed through the surrounding woods. She set her jaw and bit back the edgy words that came to her tongue.
     "As I was saying, I would like to once again entreat you to reconsider your choice of abode." She adjusted her bonnet and proceeded. "And your allergies- get rid of those filthy pets!" She turned up her nose.
     "Filthy pets!" Sneezy's voice was carefully controlled. "George." she began candidly, not observing the horrified tremor that shook her sister at this address. "My pets are not filthy. They're cleanly, Caesar constantly is bathing himself and about my residence, Inky is an excellent landlord and really such a dear! I have no intentions of moving."
      "Don't you dare go getting sweet on that Inky! It'd be a disgrace to your family!" Georgia shuttered.
     "I'll do as I please." Sneezy tossed back.
     "Very well, good day sister." Georgia stalked off in a huff, but even her stalk was a graceful glide.
     "Hmph!" Sneezy huffed and returned to the cottage to finish baking.
     At the end of the day, Sneezy packed up her share of the baked goods, kissed Giggles goodbye and zipped back to the print shop in Birchmont.
     "How's my baby?" She greeted bending to pet the golden lab at the door of the shop then as she straightened up, her eyes took in the mess, paper strewn, inky paws followed by inky shoe prints leading to an ink covered and disheveled Inky in the corner, head in his hands. He looked at her wearily and wiped more black on his already smudged face.
     "Sneezy didn't know whether to laugh or scold or cry and so as she was undecided she sat down next to Inky with the blueberry pop tarts, taking tow she handed him one, they bit and chewed slowly, surveying the disaster surrounding them. Daisy, tail between her legs and a repentant look in her soft brown eyes stood a little way off whimpering.
     Sneezy's heart softened,
     "Here Baby." She held out a third pop tart to Daisy. "Don't worry." she crooned, kissing the puppy's nose, "We'll clean it up, you're not bad, only playful." Daisy thumped her tail and licked her chops, seemingly relieved and Inky reached blackened fingers for another pop tart.
    "The pop tarts are worth the mess." he chuckled, and silently Sneezy agreed. Just then there was a jealous meow and Caesar appeared at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the group as if to ask why he wasn't invited, but when he was offered a pop tart he turned up his nose and padded up the stairs as if it were 'sour grapes'! Curling in his window sill, he sulked about the 'unfairness' of life.

Fallen Heroes - Chapter 1

Okay guys, I'm not gonna upload more than the first chapter right now, I only have a little more than 3 of 7 chapters written, it's just a short book I guess unless I decide to change my plans, I do have a complete plot and chapter "skeletons" written out, just need to take the time to work on it, my style is kinda honest and out there and the subject I'm writing is a bit sensitive...I don't know if any of that needs to be changed, less detailed... Keep in mind this is a really rough draft, I need to go back and 'show' what's goin on a little more instead of 'telling' I tend to 'tell' more when I'm not as inspired... the first part in bold lettering was my original starting paragraph but then I got down to the end at the beginning of that next paragraph and was like 'Maybe this would be a better start' so yeah now that I'm done with this long intro...give me your thoughts! It'd be great to get some feedback from anyone reading this!:-)

Chapter 1: Insecurities

    Esther pulled on the same worn-out, black, t-shirt she’d worn nearly every day since first day of school. She wished that for once in her life she could wear a pretty dress to school like the other girls in first grade. She wondered why her mom never had any money, why did her mom have to be an alcoholic, constantly at the bar meeting new guys and bringing them home for the night? She dreaded school, the teasing and the bullying because she was poor, she barely made it through each day, only to an environment much worse.
    That night she lay in bed, she had tucked herself in, her mom had never tucked her in as far back as she could remember she always had to fend for herself. Her mom was too preoccupied by her tragic love life full of hook-ups that lasted a week at the longest. The night was hot making sleep almost impossible, and on top of the terrible humidity, she could hear her mom and the current boyfriend in the adjoining room.
    Esther silently cursed the paper thin walls of the trailer her mother rented. She tried to block out the sounds coming from the next room, sounds that no eight-year-old should understand, and yet she did. Years of pain and living in a less than ideal, rough living situation had hardened and pushed Esther to a maturity beyond her years, forced her to grow up. There was a hardened sense of reality about her no child should have.
     She squeezed her pillow over her ears and was finally able to sleep.
    Esther awoke suddenly to a figure standing over her, tall and husky, it was her mom’s boyfriend. He seated himself on the bed next to her. Fear swelled in her chest making it hard to breathe. She lay stiff, motionless, unsure what to do. He reached to stroke her hair with his large hands. She tensed beneath his fingers.
     “I won’t hurt you beautiful!” he crooned touching her face. Eventually his fingers began moving down over her body, her stomach, hips, legs- he stood suddenly and removed his boxers, then lowered his heavy body over hers, reaching for her underwear. She felt paralyzed, her heart raced. Mustering all of her strength she screamed loudly. He shoved his rough hand over her soft lips, cutting her off before she could scream.
    The pain was agonizing, she wondered how anyone could enjoy this act, it was so horrifying, so dirty, and violating! It seemed like an eternity but he finally got off of her and redressed himself.
    “If you dare tell anyone I’ll slit your throat!” He growled menacingly. She was silent, too shocked to even cry, “Did you hear me?” he slapped her face roughly. She just nodded.
    “Good!” and he left. She hugged herself, her body aching as well as her heart. She felt empty, defiled, violated. Tears burned her eyes and she closed them tight against the great frightening darkness, but the darkness brought horrifying images. She tried to sleep but she couldn’t. After an eternity of laying in the darkness, hugging herself, her whole body trembling, she finally fell into a haunted sleep.
    Her mom shook her awake, she flinched, her shoulder was bruised under her mom’s grasp.
    “Get ready for school, you’re gonna be late!” Esther groaned but immediately obeyed, knowing that delaying would only be rewarded with a slap or her mom dragging her out of bed.
    “What is on your nightgown?!” Her mom exclaimed, noticing the small spot of blood on Esther’s nighty. She ripped back the sheets and there was also a small amount of blood in the sheets.
    “You have your period. Get ready for school and I’ll find you a sanitary pad” her mom said grudgingly as if Esther had committed a crime.  
    Esther wondered what a period was and if it had anything to do with having been raped. She knew that sex and periods had something to do with babies, would she get pregnant? She felt terrified suddenly. What if she got pregnant? She’d heard the other girls a little older than her discussing all these things and they said having a baby hurt. She brushed tears away from her face and hurriedly changed her underwear and got dressed for school, putting her dirty clothes into her laundry basket. She would have to wash them later.
    “Here, put this into your underwear.” Her mom ordered handing her a sanitary pad, “And put this in your backpack for school.” she added handing her a few more.
    “Okay.” Esther wasn’t sure how to use it exactly. When her mom saw her standing looking at it in a confused manner she briefly explained its use.
    Esther wanted to ask her questions; what is a period? Why do women have them? How do they make babies? Will I get pregnant now that I have it? She felt confused and ashamed.
    She made it through the day again. All the day though, fear clenched her stomach, at lunch she didn’t touch her food, her stomach was too tight to eat anything, she thought she would vomit.
    That night her mom’s boyfriend was over again, she knew her mom must be sleeping when she heard a single person moving around, her mom’s boyfriend usually let himself out after they had finished. Dread filled her, her stomach knotted. What if he came in again. She didn’t have long to wonder, her door creaked open and a large figure once again entered her room.
    “Shhh! Don’t make a sound!” he whispered roughly and repeated his actions of the night before. And once again before he left he threatened her.
    Her mom, was still with this boyfriend, Brad, after three months, and they decided that he should move in with them. He didn’t have a job and hadn’t paid his rent, and got kicked out of his apartment.
    Esther despised him and she also feared him. For the first week everything was fine besides the parties and the friends that came with Brad. They shot heroin and cocaine and did prescription drugs. Esther quickly learned not to be around them when all this was going on. She was mostly ignored anyways. More than once she was raped by Brad or one of the other men, her mom was too high to even know what was going on.
    After a while things started getting worse, Brad was abusive, to Esther’s mom as well as herself, he still frequently raped her, making her feel guilty if she struggled at all and threatening her. She felt worthless and afraid of everyone. When it wasn’t Brad abusing her it was her mom. Occasionally they kept her home from school because of obvious bruises or burns.
    In turn, Esther was angry and abusive to other children on the playground, animals, anyone smaller than herself. She’d feel a rage building inside of her and then just explode. She felt terrible every time this happened but she couldn’t help herself. She mouthed off to the teachers and was sullen and distrustful, often getting herself into detention, she got mostly failing grades which earned her more beatings when she got home.
     She didn’t understand herself or her world, she wished she could escape somehow. She tried running away a few times but always got too scared and came back. Once she lasted for a week, stealing food and sleeping wherever she could in the alleys, she was wandering around town feeling lost and ran into a group of boys. They looked old even though they couldn’t have been older than seventeen, and they were much bigger, but then she was tiny for her age, thin and short, with long, thin, coarse black hair and big, clear blue eyes. She was dirty from head to toe and starved. Her black t-shirt was ripped and stained and her jeans were faded and dirty too.
    “Where ya think yar goin?” the biggest boy asked gruffly. He had greasy, shaggy shoulder length brown hair and hard green eyes. He was about twice her size and was also dirty and unkempt. There were three others besides himself, they were all a little smaller than him but still looked intimidating and hard.
    “I’m just walking.” she answered defiantly, trying to keep from showing how afraid she was.
    “Do ya know who I am?” he asked menacingly.
    “No.” she shook her head.
    “I’m the leader of the Angels.”
    “The Angels?” Esther felt confused, this didn’t ring a bell!
    “They’ve made headlines! How can you not know?”
    “I don’t know, I don’t watch news or read the newspaper.”
    “How old are you anyways?”
    “Ten.” she felt small.
    “Why are you out here on the streets? Mom and daddy kick ya out?”
    “No! I ran away.”
    “I like this girls’ attitude and she’s young yet, teachable, what ya say Ricky? Take her back with us?”
    “She’s a pretty one, a little thin, but she could be useful.” the boy addressed agreed. He was wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket with a symbol on the front and back. His hair too was long and greesy like the first guys, except his was blond. He had light blue eyes and an almost handsome face.
    “So you want a place to stay and food? You don’t come back with us you won’t be safe, if you’re one of ours and as long as you’re loyal to the gang we’ll protect you. But you make one wrong move and you’re out. Deal?” She hesitated. “Or we can just take ya out right now if that seems more pleasant.” She shook her head,
    “I’ll come with you.”
    “Good.” She could see something in his eyes that she had never seen before, approval was it? She had never had any one approve of her before and she soaked it up. It was a good feeling.
    “What’s your name?”  
    “Esther.”
    “I’m Ron.”
    “Ron.” Esther repeated. “And you’re the leader?”
    “Pretty much. These are my boys, “Karlos, Rico and Ricky.”
    Rico was mexican looking, short and stocky, thick black hair and brown eyes. Karlos was tough and hard looking, brown eyes and brown hair, tall and muscular with a horrible red scar across his right cheek.
    
    Esther was initiated into the gang, when they got back, as Ron’s girlfriend. Gang life was alright. She was safe, she gave Ron what he wanted and he lavished affection on her and protected her. But even the horrors of home hadn’t prepared her for the horror stories in the gang. Fights, initiations, murder, theft. The Angels did make headlines. The boys ranged from fourteen to nineteen. Ron was seventeen.
    For the first month everything was safe and good, but eventually, she started helping them on their missions. At one point she was with Ron, they’d just jumped a rich looking guy for his money and they got busted, Ron dragged her with him, as they ran at one point she stumbled and fell, she recovered quickly but the police were there and they were on her. Ron tried to fight them off but in the end she was arrested and Ron escaped.
    She was told she’d be sent to a foster home.

Can't Let Go

I have this poem dated from June/July 2010. Went through a pretty dark period there and I still haven't really found my way out. A lot of my writing from this time is pretty depressing. I wouldn't say writing poetry is my best talent but it's a way of coping with stuff and a way to figure out how I'm feeling.

Can't Let Go

I'm out of control and insecure

I hate this constant fear

I want to draw near

But I am too afraid to let go

I'm afraid to let go 

Let go of all that I know

And embrace something new

To follow instead of to lead

To know that I need 

Someone in my life

I'm so afraid to be all alone 

Afraid to be on my own

And to be open and known

Afraid to let go of my insecurity

Afraid of people afraid of life

Afraid of peace afraid of strife

Scared to death of my own self

Afraid to let go of the pain

Afraid to be whole again

To let go of insecurity and pride

My aching heart and shattered dreams

I'm afraid to let go

Let go of all that I know 

And embrace something new

To follow instead of to lead 

To know that I need 

Someone in my life

I'm afraid to let go

So afraid to let go!

---A.M.L.

ACTING - poem

     I wrote this a couple years ago when I was really struggling with body image and fitting in and being perfect. I was trying to figure out what life really was about and it had to be more than just how I looked! 

Acting

I woke up this morning 

Wondering what life was all about

Went to bed tonight

Wishing someone could help me out

Who's got the key 

Who's got the plot

This isn't a movie

I know that it's not

First thing when you wake up

You put on your make up

Put on a smile

Put on your costume

Go jog a mile

You gotta lose some wight

To look like a celebrity

Who's got the key?

Who's got the plot?

This isn't a movie

I know that it's not!

I'm sick of faking 

Who I really am

I'm afraid and aching

To be real!

And I need help out of the dungeon of lies 

I'm going a different way

Hoping to someday

Find what I'm looking for!

--A.M.L

Grey Skies

     The first part of this short piece, I wrote a couple years ago, not sure what I was doing exactly or why I wrote it, but the other day I was going through old writing and I kinda liked this one, and so I edited it just a tad and added the second part. 

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     The rain poured from the miserably grey sky. My sweat jacket and denim skirt were soaked and slapping against my legs at every step. I picked up another metal post from the pile and slowly sloshed to the barn, the mud sucking my loosely tied muddy tennis shoes down with every step and I thought I'[d loose them. Pushing the post through the barn window into the darkness, I watched it slide down and heard its end clang on the cement floor, my eyes followed the brown trickle of water run down the wall below the window I had just put the post through. Then turning I made my way back to the pile to get another post and start the short miserable walk over again.

     Life's sky is grey, the atmosphere heavy, cheerless, the rain is drizzling miserably turning everything into thick, sticky muck, sucking at my heart and soul, sucking me down into it's dark depths, I'm carrying these heavy, rusty, problems back and forth between the pile and the barn, what's the point? It seems like endless drudgery. What's the point? At any moment I could just give up, stop moving back and forth between the rusty pile and that old battered barn window, why don't I? Just stop and let myself sink down, get swallowed up in the depths of that pitiful black mud screaming for me, the depression. Why do I keep moving?

Cry of the Lost

     A sea of faces haunting me, like pages in a book, all hiding the darkness inside of them, some with plastic smiles, some with blank looks, some don't hide at all. Souls crying out for freedom from the dungeons they are trapped in, begging for peace, someone to numb the aching torture of loss inside of them. The dull throb of hearts giving up, losing their fight against the pain and emptiness.

     I call out for help in my own blackness and I hear the resounding echo, reverberating back to me as others offer the same plea for help out of the terrible, miserable, aching, empty blackness, that I'm lost in. The cries are fearful and haunting, agonizing to hear, renting my heart and piercing through my soul. Others feeling the pain of life like me, others who have lost all hope, who are trapped in terrifying pain and darkness with no seeming escape.
   
     "Is there hope for me? Is there a cure for this pain? Will the wounds ever heal? Where is the light? I feel lost. I just want it to be over."

     Lonely. Fearful. Aching. Lost. Angry and alone.

     Where is the hope for them? Where is the healing for their pain and loss?
 
     And even if they wounds could heal...They can never be the same.

Destiny, Love and Loyalty

      I wrote this story a few months ago, got the idea from a story that actually happened and then, of course, I fictionalized it. So tell me what you think guys! :)

    “Today, sunny with a high of 79*, tomorrow they’re expecting-” Karson Smith subcontiously flipped to a different station. Between the three decent stations available, they’d already announced the weather at least five times in the last hour and a half, and he was sick of it. The talking interrupted his thoughts. Thoughts about his future - and Kayleigh - their future.

    Kayleigh Heath, Karson’s best friend, Jon’s sister, was just a year younger than Karson, and over the past four years, a mutual attraction had been growing. Karson had finally decided he was ready for a serious relationship, he hadn’t wanted to start dating Kay before they were both 100% ready and take a chance of ruining things. Now they were and he had it all planned. He and LUcas, his younger brother, were going on a road trip South, sightseeing, as soon as they got back, Karson was going to ask Kayleigh out.

    Karson, being the reserved and private type, hadn’t told anyone of his plans yet. Now he was starting to regret this trip, three weeks away from Kayleigh, with close to no contact and no one to talk to about his decision. They weren’t even two hours away and he already couldn’t stop thinking about her, he was tempted to turn around, only an hour and a half, he could go back and let Lucas take the trip by himself. But he kept driving.

    “Karson,” Lucas turned the radio down.

    “Hmm?” Karson answered, pulling himself out of his daydreams of Kayleigh and him.

    “I’m in love.” Lucas announced.

    “With who?” the question was automatic, Karson was still absent, not really listening to his brother. Lucas was always in love. It rarely lasted. At 18, he’d never yet had a relationship last longer than three months.

    “Kayleigh. I think she’s the one for me.” Karson was now fully listening.

    “Kayleigh Heath?” he tried not to let his emotions spill into his words.

    “Yeah. What do you think?” Lucas looked at him.

    “I- well, I guess- do you know how she feels about you?” Karson’s eyes were glued to the asphalt ahead of them, disappearing beneath his tires. Nothing could make him look at LUcas right now; his love for Kayleigh and his jealousy of his younger brother liking her were surely obvious in his eyes and he didn’t want Lucas to read him. Right now, he wasn’t even sure if lucas could read people! Everyone with two eyes could see that Kayleigh and Karson liked each other! They’d been getting flack for years about it. Was Lucas that oblivious?

    “I think she does.”

    “Are you sure that you don’t just want her to like you Luke?”

    “Yes! Why? Do you think we wouldn’t be good together?” Lucas sounded hurt.

    “I didn’t say that! Just be sure. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

    “Or Kayleigh, or myself.” he added mentally, “If he proposes to her, according to my loyalty, even if she refuses him, I can’t date my brother’s ex. And to ask first would be disloyal as well. But I loved her first!”  he argued with himself. Why did Lucas have to be his brother, and so stupid too! What if Kayleigh accepts Lucas? What then? How could he watch that?

    The weeks dragged slowly and with the thought of Lucas and Kayleigh weighing on his mind, nothing about the trip was enjoyable. Lucas talked from time to time about Kayleigh and it was all Karson could do to keep from exploding at him.

    When they finally were home, Lucas took the first opportunity to talk to Kayleigh, only to be refused. He was heartbroken at first, but soon moved on, finding another girl he was sure would be the perfect wife, but leaving behind a loyal brother and shattered Kayleigh as the two of them drifted apart after Lucas’ proposal.

    “Shawna, do you believe in destiny?” Kayleigh looked at the picture of the smiling couple on their wedding invitation,

Karson Drew Heath

and

Arianna Marie Burgeson

    Kayleigh covered the girls’ face and imagined herself next to Karson, instead.

    After Lucas proposed, things had never been the same with Karson, he had pulled away, leaving Kayleigh devastated.

     “I guess maybe.” Shawna replied, watching her younger sister’s face as she studied the wedding invitation. They had all been sure it would be Kayleigh’s name on that invitation someday, until Lucas screwed things up.

     “Do you ever wonder what happens to a person when they marry the wrong partner? Like, what happens to the person they should’ve married, and what about the person they do marry, what happens to their ‘should have been partner’?”  Kayleigh’s eyes were troubled.

    “I don’t know Kay.” Shawna answered quietly, longing to comfort her sister.

    “Do you think destiny is that we  were meant to be but they got together instead? Was it pre- planned so there is another guy for me, or will I always be single?” Shawna was silent, not knowing how to answer this question, “Did he even like me? I was so sure! But maybe we imagined it. Maybe he never did feel the way about me that I did about him!” Kayleigh said uncertainly.

    “He did. It should’ve happened!” Shawna assured her. “It just didn’t-”  Kayleigh looked at her older sister,

    “Do you think I need to go to the wedding?”

    Karson searched the crowd as he stood up front with his groomsmen, waiting for his bride. Uncertainty filled him, marriage is forever. His eyes roved over the guests, had she come? He found her family in the sixth row, and there she was, looking as beautiful as she always had. Her dark hair framing her heart shaped face, large brown eyes veiled by long thick lashes, and he thought about walking out, calling the wedding off, explaining that he didn’t love Ari like he’d love Kay. Maybe Kay would still have him. He stood indecisive and her beautiful eyes met his, a silent look passed,

    ‘I will always love you Karson. Always remember, we were meant to be.’

    Before he could do anything, the “Wedding March” began to play and the sanctuary doors were opened. The crowd rose as the bride glided up the aisle on her father’s arm. The radiance in Ari’s face made him guilty, she loved him, so trusting, so unaware that he had chosen her, only because she was so like Kay had been and that he was still in love with Kay. There was still time. He could marry the girl he really loved. But he couldn’t hurt Ari. Once again, loyalty bound him, and as if his feet were nailed, he stayed where he was supposed to, and did what was expected of him.

    As they began their vows, Karson noticed Kay slip out of the church, and not for the first time in his life, he wished he was the reckless type.

    Kayleigh couldn’t watch anymore. She couldn’t watch the only man she’d ever loved marry someone else. She had met his eyes just for a moment, just long enough to silently beg him not to marry Ari, and she’d seen it in his eyes, he had hesitated, but it was too late. Now she was unaware of him watching her from the corner of his eye as she left, unaware of his blunder as he tried to keep his mind on his vows, almost mixing her name in instead of Arianna’s. Only aware of the painful fact that no matter how hard she wished that he would leave his bride and follow Kay out, begging her to forgive his foolishness and love him forever, he was as good as married, and marriage was forever. There was no hope left for them- there had never been a ‘them’, just dreams and hopes and miscommunications. Kayleigh sat down against a large oak, her back to the church, and cried.

     Arianna felt ecstatic. She’d never felt so happy in her life! The biggest day of her life had finally come; her wedding day!

    As she walked up the aisle, unaware of the crowds watching her, she met her groom’s eyes and smiled. He hardly smiled back, but she knew he was nervous. As they joined hands at the altar, she caught him glancing at someone in the crowd, she followed his look, Jon Smith’s family, Karson’s best man. She looked back at Karson who was watching her now.

    As the vows were said, Ari noticed someone exiting the sanctuary, Jon’s sister Kayleigh Smith, then her eyes took in her groom’s face as he watched Kayleigh for just an instant.  Ari knew he’d liked her years ago, but he never talked about her, so Ari had assumed it had been small, but now as she read the look in his eyes, she knew she had been wrong. He loved Kayleigh. And no matter how hard Ari tried, she’d never be Kayleigh!

    Kayleigh stared out over the dancing, gray waves of Superior, her eyes locked on the distant horizon. She shivered as the wind swept around her and she folded her arms against her chest.

    “Karson!” she whispered,  “I never said this, but I love you!” the wind tore the words from her lips and whisked them into the foreboding waters, to be washed away. And Kayleigh just stood there. It had been ten years since Karson’s wedding, Kayleigh was thirty and still single, still asking the same questions as she had then, ‘do you believe in destiny? If so, what happens to me? Will I forever be alone? Karson, did you love me? Do you ever think about me?”

    Arianna held her baby close to her, rocking him gently and humming a lullaby softly. Ten years had brought four children, the youngest wasn’t quite one. Now as she rocked him to sleep, she watched her husband. He stood by the window, moonlight playing across his handsome face. He was lost in thought. What about? she wondered. Often, when he would sink into reverie, she couldn’t help thinking he was dreaming of her. Even now, ten years later, she could tell he loved Kayleigh still. He was good to Ari, and she loved him, but she knew his love for Kayleigh would always get between.

    The moonlight danced on the swaying branches of the poplar trees outside the window. Karson listened to the even breathing of his youngest son as he slept. He was happy. Ari was a good wife, but in moments of silence, he still thought about Kayleigh, would that ever change? All these years hadn’t totally erased his love for her, would it fade in years to come?

    He looked at his wife and she smiled at him. He loved her, it just wasn’t the same. His thoughts returned to Kayleigh, had he made a mistake? Were they supposed to be together? What if he had turned around that day he was so tempted to, instead of going on the trip with Lucas, would things be different? What was Kayleigh doing now? Was she happy? Did she ever think about him? He turned away from the window, maybe he would never know.