Saturday, July 12, 2014


Couldn't wait for you to come home, but things have changed now that she's grown.
Night-time silence turned to drunken violence.
In her bed, sleepy and warm.  She didn't know that's not the norm.
In the car, her shoulders heaved.  You changed everything she believed.
Remember the words you said, stung no matter how much she bled.
It's been her worst day still, more than when she met the hill.
Disconnecting sad and slow, colder than the falling snow.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Final Story

                From softball practices to pep fests, Jenna and Victoria were an inseparable twosome.  They had been best friends since kindergarten, and the friendship stood stronger than ever as their senior year of high school rolled around.  They went out of their way to see each other in the school hallways, and their classmates joked that they were attached at the hip.  The girls spent every weekend together whether they had essays to write or parties to attend, and after school study sessions were common throughout the week. Although the girls were often seen as one entity, they were two very different individuals.  Jenna was tall and lanky, with long brown hair and a shy, timid demeanor-she expected to blend in with her surroundings.  Meanwhile, Victoria was outspoken and opinionated, with a vibrant laugh that radiated from deep inside her.  She stood an entire head shorter than Jenna, and her choppy, platinum blonde hair had a rebellious streak of purple hiding underneath her bangs.  Athletic and aggressive, Victoria could seem intimidating while Jenna seemed apprehensive and coy.  Somehow these conflicting personalities brought the girls closer every day, and their opposite winds created an unstoppable hurricane of friendship that would undoubtedly continue through college and the rest of their lives.
                Jenna found it hard to become close to people, so she felt endlessly blessed to have Victoria in her life.  Every decision Jenna made involved taking Vicki into account, and she truly had an immeasurable amount of love for her best friend.  She had learned so much from Victoria over the years, and she wouldn’t hesitate to catch a bullet for her. She appreciated the steady pattern of day to day life, and change was not easy for her. Jenna was dreading their separation for college in the fall, and needless to say, she fully planned on spending every summer day with her best friend.
                As the year flew by and graduation became a memory instead of a goal, the girls remained faithfully at each other’s side.   The summer before college was crammed with days at the beach and nights on the town.  Afternoon visits to the mall and nighttime road trips to the drive-in were carefree and fun as the girls soaked in their last season together.
                Eight days before both girls planned on boarding separate airplanes to attend separate schools for the first time in their lives, Jenna woke up to the morning sun slipping through her window and her phone ringing endlessly.  Recognizing the number as Vicki’s home phone, Jenna swiftly grabbed her blackberry and brought it up to her ear.
                “Victoria had another seizure,” Vicki’s mom was blunt and direct.  Jenna’s stomach plummeted and the room spun around her as those harsh words set in.  Having her first violent seizure at age four, Victoria was deemed Epileptic before she entered kindergarten.  Now she was 18 and thanks to surgeries, medication, and almost a decade of extensive therapy, it had been five years since even the most minor episode.  She was cleared to get a driver’s license and move out of state for college, and everyone gratefully assumed that she had found a way to keep her disease under control.
                “But she’s okay, right?” Jenna assumed. “Now you should just go back to the doctor and get her medication changed or something before this happens again.”
                “She hit her head on a table, so I called an ambulance.  I haven’t seen her since it happened late last night, but the doctors say she’s at a risk for serious blood loss.” The voice on the phone continued. “She could also have brain damage because of where the table hit her skull.  I think you should come to the hospital.  Vicki would want you here.”
                Lunging out of bed, Jenna didn’t bother to change out of her pajamas before grabbing her keys and flying out her front door.  Sprinting onto the driveway where she had parked her little silver car, Jenna couldn’t even cry; she was too numb.  Had Victoria’s mom insinuated that her daughter was on the verge of death?  Would she be in a coma? 
                Speeding out of her neighborhood, Jenna tried to imagine what life would be like without Victoria.  She could barely see herself surviving the next four years without Vicki by her side, let alone the next 80. Not wanting to waste any time, the trembling brunette forced her gas petal down even further and prayed that everything would be fine.   Clutching the steering wheel, Jenna begged herself to remain composed as the urge to sob grew even stronger.  As she neared the hospital, her heart hammered inside her chest and the tears finally made their appearance.  She was almost at her best friend’s side-the only place in the world she wanted to be.
                It was a 2006 Pick-Up Truck that plowed into the side of Jenna’s car and killed her instantly.  The collision left both vehicles mangled and destroyed, giving the other driver a slim chance at survival as well.  Luckily the ambulance was quick in getting him to the emergency room 2 blocks away.  This solemn and heart-wrenching scene could be viewed from Victoria’s 6th floor hospital room as she lay unconscious in the pure white bed.  Staring out the window with one hand on the foot of the bed, Vicki’s mom looked on in horror.  Turning her back to the window, she was just in time to greet the smiling doctor who had just entered the room.
                “I have good news.” He said genuinely. “Victoria’s X-rays showed no brain damage at all, and her body was able to replenish her blood supply-she didn’t lose as much as we originally thought.  Your daughter is going to be just fine.”

Thursday, April 7, 2011

daily journal class recap 4-7-11

One thing I really liked about this class was how often we actually got to be creative in Creative Writing. The daily journals were really open-ended, and even though I didn't like doing the pictures as daily journals, I still think it was a good way to get thinking and start using our imagination. I also really loved the poetry unit.  I don't usually like poetry but I appreciate that you just gave us the basic format of a certain type of poem, and then let us run with it. It was nice to know that as long as I followed the specific rules for something like a sonnet, I could write about whatever I wanted and make it my own.  I'm also glad you let us work during class and at our own pace, because when kids feel rushed to write something we just focus on getting it done and not being good and creative writers.  If you just threw concrete due dates at us we wouldn't be growing as writers, which is something I think I accomplished this quarter.

Even though I really enjoyed writing poetry, I didn't exactly love writing stories, especially science fiction ones.  It's good to try something different, because I would never write a science fiction story on my own, but at the same time, I didn't think science fiction gave me a lot of room to be creative.  You can be creative by coming up with interesting story lines or plot twists, not just by throwing aliens and time travel into your paper. I also wanted to have more writing time and less lecture time, because once I get 'in the zone' to write, I just want to get all of my ideas down and start working.  If I can't do that write away, I get worried that I'll forget my great ideas and be less interested in writing because there isn't very much time left in class for me to do a lot of work. Overall, I really enjoyed this class and I honestly do think I am just that much closer to being a great writer because of it.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011


My first real job was at my friend Sammie's family restaurant.  It was a pizza shop, and my job was to answer the phones and place the orders that people wanted.  I didn't mind it at first, because it was simple to take charge of the conversation and to keep the communication flowing so I got the information that I needed.  Also, everyone knows how to order a pizza, so anybody I talked to was able to make the conversation short and easy.  While most of the people I talked to were polite and deliberate, every once in a while I would have to deal with a crazy person.  One busy night, I had someone on hold while I answered the phone and asked what the person wanted to order.  It took them such a long time to respond, and when they did, their words were slurred and I could barely understand what they were saying.  Under the instruction of my boss, who is very no-nonsense about things, I hung up because I didn't have time for someone who didn't know what they were doing or even who they had called.  I continued to answer calls and place orders, when the phone rang again.  It was the same person who had called before, but this time they managed to yell 'YOU HUNG UP ON ME!'.  I don't take crap from anyone, and I knew my boss would not have been okay with someone treating me like that when it was clearly their own fault.  Still, I was shaky from my first angry customer, but I knew I had to remain firm.  "Yeah I did, because I had people on hold who were actually talking to me." I shot back.  I was surprised, but this shut the woman up right away, and she promptly ordered her pizza.  This was definitely a nerve-racking first for me, and I was freaking out at the time.  Looking back though, even though it seemed horrible at the time, I'm glad it happened.  I learned that people will generally respect you when you stand up for yourself and take charge for the situation and ownership for your actions.  I'm sure the psycho lady learned a few things too; 1. have your act together when you try to order a pizza on a friday night and 2. don't call a pizza place when you're drunk and belligerent.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011


If I opened my own restaurant, it would look like a nightclub inside with curtains and cozy VIP - feeling booths.  It would be very dim inside with music that is more loud than soft, but not too loud.  There would be candles on the tables, and we would have a lovely selection of drinks. The theme colors would be purple, blue, and black with some silver.  Basically, if it looks like a Kardashian would hang out there, thats what I want it to look like.  The people that work at my restaurant would have to be very good looking- NO EXCEPTIONS.  Everyone would have to wear black, and we would make cool nametags so you could identify the employees. We would sell really expensive food that comes in tiny portions so that I could make as much money as possible.  I would also make sure that there was a beautiful open terrace in the summer, with a great view.  There would only be drinks allowed out there, and the music would be much softer.  This is a great idea, and I might just do it so that I can make millions and millions of dollars and live happily ever after. By myself. The end.

Monday, April 4, 2011

science fiction story

                Hot, humid air rushes over my face like little flashes of wind.  I’m slowly becoming more aware of my senses, and I realize that the fast and steady gusts are partnered with a heaviness weighing over my chest.  A strong pounding fills my head as I lift it off of the ground and sleepily open my eyes.  I am met by the friendly gaze of my scruffy little dog sitting on top of me.  Her dark chestnut eyes stare at me expectantly, and her tail wags to the beat of her panting breath. 
                “Get off me, Riley.” I grumble as I sit forward.  Looking around, I realize that I am in a small, deserted alley between two tall buildings.  The red bricks tower over me on both sides as the morning sun fills the alley.  There is no reason I should be waking up on this empty side-street; the last thing I remember is dozing off in my own bed with Riley resting softly in my arms. 
                Looking to the far end of the alley, I see where it meets a bigger road.  Through the small opening between the buildings I notice people meandering down the sidewalk or hurriedly walking across the street.  The throbbing throughout my skull continues as I slowly get to my feet and make my way towards the sea of people.  Riley follows me faithfully as we step out into the crowded city.  Assessing my surroundings once again, I rise up on my tippy-toes as my head swivels left and right.  Quaint little stores line the street on both sides like a scene from an old western movie.  Keeping my eyes moving, the first thing I realize is that everyone is dressed alike.  The women wear their own variation of the simple and solid black skirt and blazer, and the men wear their own black suits.  If the little shops decorating the street didn’t resemble small town America so closely, I would assume I was dropped in the middle of business-oriented New York City.  I have become acutely aware and embarrassed of how under-dressed I must appear; my light brown hair is resting in relaxed waves at my shoulders, as I take note that every woman in sight has her hair neatly secured in a tiny bun.  My white, lacy summer dress hardly touches my knees, and my bare, bronzed legs and navy Keds don’t match the uniform of black tights and high heels.
                This unfamiliar place urges me to ask so many questions.  Where am I?  How did I get here?  Above all, how can I get home?  Deciding to head down the street to search for answers, I quickly kneel down and pick up my puppy.  Carrying her like a football in my right arm, it doesn’t take much muscle for me to swing all 15 pounds of her to my front so I can support her hind legs with my left arm as well.  I turn to my right and begin walking down the sidewalk, weaving my way through a city of strangers.  The women’s eyes scan me from head to toe as I walk past them, and I receive confused glares from the men.  I clutch onto my dog they way everyone else seems to clutch to their briefcases, and it is obvious that I am an outsider.
                I scan the crowd looking for any hints as to where I am, when I unexpectedly see my brother crossing the street about a block ahead of me.  I swiftly put Riley on her feet and begin sprinting.
                “Oh my God, Mike.” I’m out of breath as I approach him and wrap my arms around his tall, skinny frame.  He tenses up as I hug him, and he quickly dodges around me to continue walking.  “Hold on! I have to talk to you!” I shout as I struggle to keep up with him.  He picks up his pace, and I need to take even bigger strides to remain behind my older brother. “I’m serious!  You can’t walk away from me! I just woke up in an alley with Riley, I have no idea what happened!”  Tears are now streaming down my face as the kid who once promised to always protect me is blatantly ignoring me in my time of need.  Just as I consider giving up on chasing him, Michael quickly grabs my wrist and drags me into the nearest empty store. 
                “Okay, one,” he begins once we are inside, “I’m not Mike.  Two, I don’t know who you are, and three,” he pauses to look down at my disheveled sandy-colored pup, “that has got to be the ugliest dog I have ever seen.”
                This is so typical.  Mike is the average big brother who would torment me just to see my reaction, and I am not in the mood right now.  “You’re not funny.” I spit back.
“I’m not trying to be.” He responds matter-of-factly.  As he says this, I notice that his eyes are not their usual deep blue; the same deep blue that mine are.  Instead, they are a shock of electric green that cannot be mistaken.  “My name is Eden.” He says sweetly as he extends his right hand.  Confused, I stare at his hand and notice a small birthmark on top of his wrist that I’m sure I would have seen before.  Suddenly, it occurs to me that although this person is identical to the brother I grew up with for the last 18 years; he isn’t my brother at all.  Amazed, I gaze into his green eyes and introduce myself.  Telling him I’m from Apple Valley and extremely lost, Eden gives me a response I was not expecting.
                “Apple Valley, Minnesota?”  He asks, dumbfounded.  I nod.  “That’s not possible.” Throwing him a confused look, he continues to tell me that the city I fell asleep in last night hasn’t existed for over 90 years.
                “Okay, THAT’S not possible.” I retort. “I know for a fact I fell asleep in Apple Valley last night. So…” my voice trails off, waiting for an explanation.  He sighs.
                “Jessica, can you tell me what year it is?”  Eden massages the bridge of his nose like he is annoyed.  Well it will be my turn to be annoyed when I shoot the correct answer right back at him; I’m not an idiot.
                “Yeah…2011.” I squint my eyes at him, waiting for his embarrassed reaction.
                “It figures.” He sighs again, looking me up and down. “You time traveled. Apple Valley exists in 2011, but not today. It is August 2111.”A rush takes over me, and I am dizzy.  Time Travel? Is he insane? I stare back at him, waiting for Ashton to jump out and surprise me.  I surprise myself first and shove him as the tears begin again.
 “Shut up!” I yell. “I’m serious, I just want to go back home!”  As frustrated as I am, a distinct part of me wishes this strange man really was my big brother Mikey, playing another prank. “Mike this isn’t funny!” Now I’m sobbing, and Riley whimpers on the ground beside me.
“I promise you, I’m not Mike.”  Sympathy floods his voice, and I hate to know he is telling me the truth.


This man clearly just got dumped. and that is clearly his girlfriend underneath the rug.  Things got physical when she told him she wanted to break up, but neither of them thought it would escalate like it did.  they were running around the room when the woman, whose name is Erin, decided to hide underneath the rug.  Her skull was smashed shortly after this photo was taken. The man said oopsies, and the police decided not to take him to jail because she seemed annoying anyways, and he's never really done anything super bad before.  Except for the time he killed his wife.