Four choices

Photo by Anis Abdul

You wake up and find yourself among the stars. There is no ground underneath you just an endless void. And the heat of the stars’ travel across your skin in their far away spot. The only sound you can hear is your fast, shaky breathing and your lack of a heartbeat.

You are dead.

Getting up, not sure how this is even possible as there is no official ground, you glance around and notice four tunnels of light.

The one in front of you screams Earth. Choosing this option means that you are reincarnated into a human baby found in the past, present, or future. But do you feel the need to begin again?

The one to your right sings Heaven. Choosing this option means that you get anything that you want without paying a price. But do you feel that you have been good enough for this route?

The one behind you hums with Emptiness. Choosing this option means that you turn back into the stars and wander around the universe in an endless manner. But do you feel the need to give up?

The one to your right whispers Hell. Choosing this option means that you live in torture for the rest of eternity. But do you feel that you have been bad enough for this route?

You pause not sure which path to take. And you know that you don’t have long to make a choice before it comes. So, taking a deep breath you take a step in whatever direction you chose and another, and another knowing that it is the right one for you.

Do you regret the decision immediately when you step up to the light?

Too late, some unknown force pushes you in, and you find yourself falling towards a fate that you are not prepared for.

Note: This is a story idea that's been on my mind for about four years but I couldn't find a way to say it till now.

And now the weather:

Lost Stars the Kiera Knightley version

~ Stacy N.

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Christmas Eve

Photo by James Donovan

Content warning: death, suicide 
December 24 has never been my favorite day for three reasons.
One, December 24, 2010, Mother Nature decided to give me an early Christmas gift. My period. It was bloody and horrible and it hurt. I knew it was going to come eventually, but why that particular day? Christmas eve was supposed to be an exciting day spent in preparation for the big Christmas holiday. It shouldn't be a bloody mess. By now, I've more or less suffered through it, and still have to survive it for another fortyish years.

Two, December 24, 2015, my bà nội  ended up going to the hospital because something happened to her heart. Thankfully, she had my dad and his brother to keep her company for most of the day. By the time the news reached my siblings' and my ears, visiting hours were already over. Little did I realize, that hospital visit foreshadowed her death two months later. She ended up dying of cardiac arrest around February. Thankfully, my family and I managed to visit her on Christmas day. That was also the last day I ever saw her alive and it was a day I'll never trade for anything else.

Three, December 25, 2015, I witnessed a suicide. I briefly mentioned it last year, however, since it was still fresh on my mind, I couldn't delve into many of the details without wanting to barf and/or break down. In fact, it's still a bit hard to write about, however, after all, the shit that happened so far in 2016, that was almost nothing. Now back to the story.

My siblings and I were at my ông bà nội's house when we heard the news of  bà nội's condition. By then, she was pretty weak. Her skin was papery thin; she wasn't talking much; she needed a walker; she had a puffy leg; she was diabetic; just got done with some kind of blood cancer; and she took a lot of pills just to survive her everyday life. So my family mourned, ate dinner, watched some movies, and talked a little bit. Eventually, it grew late so my siblings and I headed back to our hotel.* However, on the way there, we got lost and ended up hitting a homeless person who was actively trying to commit suicide. Unfortunately, our rental car was the tool that she managed to use to achieve that goal. It was scary, and I was quite numb after that, and even though I said I was fine, I wasn't.

Some context. My siblings and I were on a San Diego, California freeway when it happened. It was around ten pm, we were in the center lane, and there was moderate traffic around us. There was also a nearby hospital.

One moment, she wasn't there and the next she was. She looked like a pale demon from a horror movie. Except, there was no veil around her head. She ended up destroying one side of the car. For a moment, my older sister almost considered to keep on driving because she was freaking out and didn't know what to do. Thankfully, she ended up pulling over when she saw that a few other cars did the same. The typical happened, "what just happened?", cringing at the car's destruction, "there's flesh on your car", I started to take pictures as proof, names and insurance and license plate numbers were exchanged, someone called the police, and the police eventually came. There were two police groups that night, one group was with us and started to try to piece together what happened, the second group was with the dead body, they were a bit farther down the freeway.

When talking to an officer, he said that there's always quite a few homeless people who escape from the hospital and run onto the road. If I remember right, the homeless lady wore a hospital gown. Though I can't remember if I saw it or someone else told me. The police officer also said that there were a lot of homeless people in California, particularly in the southern part because it's almost always nice, sunny, and warm year around. And they usually gather around places of high traffic, particularly the side of the road.

A few hours later, my siblings and I ended up back in our hotel room, we (aka my older sister) started talking to a police provided therapist to help us process the night's events. And he told us that he believed there's a small spike in suicide rates among the homeless during this time of year. Because it's depressing to know that you're alone during the holidays with no loved ones around. Also, another officer mentioned that unfortunately, this was not a rare occurrence and it happened quite a few times every few months. Thankfully, my older sister didn't get charged with vehicular manslaughter because it was not her fault, it was the homeless lady's because she was in the middle of the road. A place that by then doesn't protect pedestrians, especially not on the freeway. And thankfully, there were witnesses who proved that the homeless lady did indeed walk on the freeway most likely to commit suicide.

But still it was bad, it was bad, it was bad.

*Initially my siblings, dad, and I were supposed to stay at my ông bà nội's house in National City, California, however, an aunt was also coming down for the holidays. And for some reason, she's not a big fan of my immediate family. So she wanted us out of ông bà nội's house because she "reserved" it first. But my ông nội doesn't really check his phone messages so he didn't tell us. So when we heard that piece of news, my siblings and I moved our stuff to a hotel in San Diego, thankfully still a bit close to our ông bà nội's house, while our dad stayed behind because he needed to spend the time with his dying mom. But in the end, that was all for nothing because said aunt decided to go to a hotel instead. Yay, for family drama.

Note: bà nội means paternal grandma in Vietnamese, ông nội means paternal grandpa, and ông bà nội means paternal grandparents.

And now the weather:
It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton a Musicality Cover

~ Stacy N.

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A scavenger hunt contest!

Welcome to another edition of Sweets Galore, where if you want you can participate in a contest that my friend eshy is hosting. She's invited along other bloggers, including yours truly to join in with her. So here it is. 

Scavenger hunt- n. a game in which individuals or teams try to locate and bring back miscellaneous items on a list.

This online scavenger hunt has the same idea. But you’ll be hunting for bold words. It starts here: http://eshysletters.wordpress.com/ where you need to find the one bolded word throughout the post. Write it down somewhere. Then go on to the next blog in the hunt by clicking the link at the bottom of the post that will take you to the next one. Find the bold world and then go onto the next. Eventually you’ll be led back to http://eshysletters.wordpress.com/  where you’ll find a fairytale (The Wise Little Girl) with a few words missing and replaced with blanks. Copy and paste that fairytale into an email. Unscramble the order of the bold words you’ve found and pop them into the blanks. Put “Once Upon A Time” as the subject of the email and address it to eshydog2@gmail.com. To be entered to win you must have the correct words in the correct order sent in an email by July 2^nd. If you have the bold words in the correct order you’ll be entered to be drawn at random for a limited edition book of fairytales and rewritten versions of the very same classics along with a handwritten letter from eshy. Any questions, email eshy. More details and the complete rules are also on eshy’s post. Happy hunting everyone!

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Flying higher and higher

picture source
            A slightly story like piece of writing, of why I love swings. I should have this in a book somewhere. 

I love the swings at the playground. It’s the only thing I go on anymore when I’m at the park. I love the feeling of temporary freedom as I’m slightly off the ground. And my feet keeps on swinging back and forth trying to fly away from the woodchips. My back arching a bit as I’m trying to get a bit higher and higher. It feels nice when the wind rushes over me, blowing my hair back. Trying to force me to stop and stay put on the ground. Only, I don’t stop. I start to go higher and higher. Trying to fly away from the world called earth. There’s a risk of falling, but I don’t care. My hands hold on tight to the chains/rope that are on either side of me. They are the only things keeping me here on earth.

I love all of that, but then I start to remember reality. And instead of seeing the blue sky, I start to see the playground. My feet swing slower and slower, till it stops all together. My hands aren’t holding tight anymore instead they’re barely holding down. Probably a bit smug at completing their job of keeping me tied down to earth.

I love that too, well kind of. I love the feeling of temporarily flying, while still sitting. That’s probably what I love most of all, the flying while still sitting. It’s relaxing in a way, and cheerful. For a moment, it seems as if I’m not thinking just… dreaming with my eyes open. Then the thoughts invade and the only way I can stop them is to find their solutions to them. Which is easier said than done, while on the swings. It seems like almost anything is possible while swinging, in my opinion.

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Thoughts Untold

A short story.

~.~.~.~.~

                His arms slip around her waist. She didn’t have the energy to shake them off. Nor having the courage to say whatever is on her mind. For there was a growing fear - that has been within her since her time began – that has been stopping her. It has been stopping her more often these days especially when she was with him.

It feels like an imprisonment, she thought, however gentle the imprisonment is.  

He rests his chin on her head, drawing her a bit closer to himself. The smell of her hair makes him feel a bit lightheaded.

Almost as lightheaded as meth, he thought only without the chemical like smell.

He sniffs her hair, smiling a bit as memories of grandmothers and strawberry fields starts to enter his mind. Not noticing the way her shoulders haunch up, her body growing as rigid as a boulder among the frigid sea.

I have to tell him, it wouldn’t be fair if he found out the hard way… if he lived that long. The sudden truth of his announcement came rushing back up to her. Causing her body to grow slack, as tears start to make their way up to her dry eyes. At least this time around, he noticed the sudden change in the way she holds her body.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in a quivering voice, reminding her of his five-year-old self.

Now’s the chance to tell him what’s really going on in my life, she thinks to herself. And as she opens her mouth just to do just that. He suddenly flinches as if he has suddenly been hit by his abusive alcohol-addicted father. Now it was her turn to ask him what was wrong.

“Nothing,” he says quickly trying to smile only having it turn into a grimace. She looks up into his childlike silver eyes, a worry creeping into her practical green ones. He sighs, his sickly thin frame almost tired from the effort.

“It’s…” he trails off a bit worried from how she’ll react.

It’s obviously not nothing, she thinks refraining her mouth from saying those words out loud. Instead, she continued staring up at him, giving him the confidence to continue on.

“It’s just... a memory attack, I-I guess you can say,” quickly averting his eyes to stare at something else.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a genuinely sincere voice filled with a hint of her sadness and fear that she has been feeling for the past few days. A part of her hoping he’ll hear it and comment on it.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t really anything,” he says though both of them knowing that it’s a lie. But that seemed a bit too much for her, causing tears - that were willing to be shed since he first told her that news just a couple of days ago at this time exactly – to fall over her dry eyes and land with an inaudible plink onto his arm. He gently wiped her eyes away as words start to pack into his brain willing to be said out loud. 

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One year

It's been one year, since I've had this blog. One year, since I started posting writing, pictures, quotes, and well random stuff. And so for my blog's one year anniversary, I shall post a song, and one of my earlier posts. One that, I probably won't really remember writing, but enjoyed reading it.
Well here it goes...

 I sit on my bed, trying hard not to think about all the good times I've had, with him. I try so hard, that my head ended up hurting badly. But I couldn't do it for long. Nostalgia hits me cold like the flu. Memory, after memory of us together, makes me long for the past. Makes me wish that nothing would change, and end up like things right now. A teardrop starts dropping onto my shirt, first one, and now two, four, and five. I don't care. All I care about is him. The one guy that would make my heart race, and make the butterflies in my stomach flutter pleasantly. But most of all he's the only that knows the real me. 

    I keep on remembering forbidden memories of him. Especially the last memory. Where we didn't say things that was supposed to be said. Where we misinterpreted each other. Where I saw who he really was. However, I still miss him, still wishing he would just deny it all, and just choose me. But none of that, won't make him call; will make me stop waiting for the phone to ring. The tears start increasing, my heart starts throbbing. My brain wishing it could explode from all of the raw nostalgia. But that won't make me stop, waiting. Till the day ends. Till he realizes that, he's supposed to be mine. Till I die waiting for him…

It's so... not like me right now. I can't believe I was like that, when I was younger. Oh well, I'm bound to become that person again one day, probably not anytime soon but one day. And that post was from my Why? post, from 363ish days ago. 

And now as I promised the song. 

And now I hope to have another blog filled year, with random stuff, and hopefully finding some happiness. 

Salut! 

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My life in a spiral

            I lay awake on the couch, awoken from my short nap. Glass shatters in a distance, cries and yells of hateful words can be heard nearly everywhere. It scares me, making me feel useless. I know I should stop it, but my body won’t move. The only thing I can do now is wait it out like a storm only it’s more personal. My giant teddy bear is the only witness, as I let the tears fall, and let the feelings of guilt, sorrow, and fear overwhelm me. Making me go down into the depths of the dark unknown of life.

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It's been a while....

A while since I've posted any kind of my writing. So I got this from my other blog A School Story A Day. (Click the button!) I think it was the last Monday's one (9/12/11.) Well here it is.

Harder to lose

Harder to buy

This is the land of

Sugar high

            The poem plays in my head as my fingers start to do their daily dainty work, each evening. This was patching up the soldiers’ belongings, or also known as their clothes, and once in a while one of the items that their mother, sister, or sweetheart would send in. And each night, I would silently try and not cry, as pictures of my mother and little sisters come to my mind. Oh, it was hard work, for the women in the war, always worrying, cleaning, and taking care of stuff. It seems as if it will never leave a lady’s life in the near future. It was always too much work, and barely any free days.

            “Oh stop complaining Anita, there are others who has it way worse,” said Mother Lila as if reading my thoughts. I don’t bother to look up at her over the fire, as my fingers patch up this nasty rip on one soldier’s uniform.

            “I ain’t complaining, Mother Li, I was just… thinking about how life is hard and-”

            “In a complaining tone, thinking or not? Yeah right, I can hear ya complaining a mile away, even if it is in your head,” she says in her strict grandmotherly way. I sigh, and roll my eyes a bit, reprimanding myself a bit for doing it again. “But anyways…” she trails off a bit as if a bit unsure of how to go on. I start to put my guard up, preparing myself for the worst. War does that to you, it gives you a nasty surprise when you were expecting one to be good and hopeful. After a while, though you’ll get used to it, even if it took a year or two.

            “The boss…” uh oh, if it’s something about the doctor then it’s going to be bad really bad. “Are you listening Anita?” she says bringing me back to reality, just as my mind was about to go to the worst case scenarios at what might of happened to the doctor.

            “Yeah, I’m listening,” I say giving her a quick glance before going back to my mending.

            “Well then, the boss said ya can take a day off a day after tomorrow,” she says quickly, in an almost grump voice but underneath it I can catch just a hint of gratitude.

            “Oh thank you, thank you!” I yell, suppressing the urge to jump up and down and give her a peck on the cheek.

            “Don’t thank me, thank the boss, and he’s got something else for ya…” she trails off uncertainly again, but I didn’t notice because I was excited about having a day off again. “He um, said that… Your brother,” she takes a deep breath before muttering the last word so quietly that I couldn’t hear.

            “Come again?” I ask my beating heart still excited.

            “I said your brother um… died?” she said. Everything started to crash down, onto me as I realize why the doctor even gave me a day off. My brother dead and he was the only other lifeline I had here, without him…. I don’t bother thinking about the stuff that might happen now. In fact, I don’t bother to notice everything around me anymore, once I heard that he died, I just shut down. In the distance, I can hear Mother Lila screaming my name, and someone else, someone familiar, and yet not familiar. But I don’t hear their words behind the screams, or the scrambling feet, because I can feel myself being welcomed into the darkness.

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A story

I don't have much to say today, so I'm just posting a story from my other blog http://aschoolstoryaday.blogspot.com. And it took me three weeks to notice that something was missing, and it's lying under the followers thing. Well here is the story.

Once upon a cupcake kind of time, in a land that isn’t so very far away. There was a queen named Valeria, who ruled a kingdom called Boredom. And in Boredom, you just do well boring stuff, with boring people. There weren’t really any exciting things going on in their lives, well maybe getting a foreclosure… There were never any wars, because the neighboring kingdoms thought they were too tedious to fight. Even no one came into the kingdom, because he or she would think that once he or she leaves, he or she would become just as boring him or herself. And not any of the natives themselves would dare leave.

Till

            One

                        Day…

“Hey do you want to go exploring today?” asks Jenna, again, day after day for the last five years. And day after day, I would always decline her, because the woods seemed boring to go in. With nothing ever stirring at the edges, and nothing even coming out.

I sigh about to say the same thing again, “I do-”

“Wait, a minute before you say anything, just here me out,” she says cutting m off. I nod, not really caring about what’s going to come next, but I didn’t really want to go back to working with the smoldering fire. “Okay…” she says trailing off.

“Go on,” I reply in my monotone voice. Everything seemed dull and gray, even Jenna seemed boring, with her brown hair in irregular curls, her tiny straight nose, and the unnatural rose in her cheeks. Even her eyes were a bit unusually green, with some seriousness mixed in and something else, something irregular.

“Okay, if you’re wondering why, I only ask you the same question everyday…” I start to zone out, my eyes were starting to droop, nothing but smoke seemed to be in my mind all day. “Hello Mangus? Are you listening to me?” I shake my head and start to pay attention to her. Giving her the attention as if she was another costumer, and not some girl, that I don’t really consider my friend…

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she sighs a bit irritated, “back to the point the only reason why I ask the same question every day and not someone else, is…. Well…” I star to zone out again, not really noticing her nervousness. “IsthatI’mgettingmarriedtothejerkprincebutIdon’twantto, andplusyouseemfuntobearoundwith.And…” she says in a breath, jerking me awake.

“Huh?” I ask confused by what she meant. But I was starting to pay attention, really pay attention. There was a strange feeling coursing through me, and it almost reminded me of that one person long ago, that visited Boredom. He was trying to sell some substance, and he tested it on himself, and… happiness seemed to flood him. This feeling was like happiness, but different somehow… and yet a teensy bit familiar.

“So do you want to go exploring today?” she asks, pretending that she didn’t say what she just said before.

“Yes,” I say surprising myself, some strange feeling flooding through me, and through her eyes as well.

“Okay we start today…”

To be continued? 

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Random words.

Hello, I thought I would like to share with you guys some words I got from dictionary.com's word of the day from the last three days. I'll share them in a paragraph, maybe in different point of views that somehow connect with the story. If you're interested to get a word of a day in your inbox each day go here. Well, here I go...

He learned enough hobson-jobson to get along with his co-workers, but it was hard because he was fluent in French, and not English. And he continued this up each day, and earning the trust from his boss. In fact he was the boss's most trusted, that they began to collogue together. And their talks usually include of how to save the world, and make everyone healthier. So much, that they started to speak and write in code so the others wouldn't find out. Now, the others think that all they do is footle.

I hope I used those correctly...
Now try to guess what the bold words mean, without using dictionary.com please. And if do try and get them correct, I'll let you guest blog on my blog, or I can guest blog on yours. The entries are unlimited, as well as time. And you enter, by commenting, or emailing me at staceriffic@gmail.com.
So begin....
Now.
P.S. If you would like some hints such as if they are an adjective, verb, etc. I would gladly give them to you.

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Memories

It's been a while since I posted a story of mine. And one that I just wrote recently. Well here's a non-fiction piece I wrote. (That's a first wow). And not everything is true. And it has one swear word in the end. Well enough putting it off already, here it is.

I sit on the base of the stairs, awaiting mother’s approval to go into the basement. It was spring cleaning day, the big white bins in the neighborhood was just waiting to be filled with junk. And since the rest of the house was tiptop clean, except for the basement. She decided today would be the day to clean it. 

            Only problem was that no one went down in the basement. Except to do the laundry or to iron something of some sorts, occasionally one of us would dump some clothing that we haven’t worn in a while onto the pitiful old brown couch. I would rarely see dad use his study that’s down there. Dust started to collect onto the cluttered books, and CDs. They were just simply unread, unused and unloved. But that’s just not all of what the basement is about, it’s about the memories that has gathered there. It was mainly about the old childhood schoolwork that has somehow gathered there. It was mainly my older sister’s schoolwork though, occasionally my twin’s and mine, and rarely my brother. It was like a pyramid. My older sister is dominating the base, my twin and I hugging the middle, and the teeny tiny top my brother. It was almost if at any moment, he would just fall off.

            Once in a while, I liked to come down here to see who the schoolgirl was for my older sister. Before she turned into a college girl living her life for humanitarian needs, barely giving her family enough fond memories to cherish forever. Yet enough that I can still remember her friendly enough. Her schoolwork mainly consisted of science, terms and formulas, and opinions confusing me, and yet somehow, someway I understand them. She was a genius like me that much was written by her hard work on her projects. There was something that had to deal with fashion for her ninth grade year, her handwriting almost like mine. Her grammar needed to be improved ASAP, unlike mine. Gosh, it was as if I’m rising up to be a miniature version of her, minus the fact that we’re very different. She was born to be a speaker, and I was born to be a writer, both having words wrap warmly around us.

            I blink getting out of my reverie. I just couldn’t see how mother wanted to clean the place up. That holds a piece of her children’s schoolwork selves. “Okay, you can come down now!” she yelled, finally done. I sigh and stand up, and descend the not-really-that-short flight of stairs. The others too attached with their technology to, even come down with me. I dodge some of the laundry that has missed their chance to go in the current washing, and enter the threshold. I don’t gasp, nor do my eyes go wide. My entire being seemed entirely blank, the basement was clean. And it looked oddly nice, the furniture not crooked but polished and having nothing on them the clothes on the couch was just gone, the carpet appearing not to have a hidden stain anywhere. The walls were white and spotless, but all that left was…

            I can hear mother holding her breath, as I make my way to dad’s study. I put my hand on the knob, expecting the whole room not to be dusty. I turned the knob, but it wouldn’t open, remembering that dad had locked it for some reason. Why? Because there’s a dead ninja in there? I think to myself, as I turn around and walk down the hall, to see about the schoolwork. I open the closet door, where it’s all kept. I slowly open the door, silently enjoying the suspense I’m giving mother. It kind of felt like there was a walking dead person, from the way that she’s not breathing. I could smell it before I saw it, my heart beating furiously, and yet I still have the blank composure wrapped securely around me. The smell was one of furniture cleaner, and a tang of ammonia. The closet door was open wide, and I said the three words that just came to my mind and pushing its way to my tongue demanding to be let out.

            “What the hell,” I say in a monotone. The schoolwork was gone; everything about our school selves was simply just gone. And I have a feeling that she just threw it all way, not giving a dime about the memories that have came with it. I can hear mother let out her breath, as I softly close the door. Wondering why it couldn’t be dad’s study to clean, and not the memories. All the while, the three words still continue to whisper around me. “What the hell?”

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THE BIG 100!!!

GIFSoup
© Copyrighted. All writing, and pictures posted here, shall not be put anywhere else, not unless you get permission from me. 

The miracle is not that we do this work, but that we are happy to do it. ~ Mother Teresa

Yay, it's the big 100! I can't really believe that I made it this far in just eight months. And I couldn't have done it without you followers, viewers, and readers, and the random stumblers. And I got to say thank you. Now let's get this show on the road ~ Mushu from Mulan.

A question. 

How do you feel about the U.S. Debt system?

I say we should do better, and stop wasting the money. And plus we should change the currency so we can stop cutting down poor trees. We're probably going to die sooner if there's less trees around. In fact I can feel the oxygen levels going down. I can't breathe *Turns purple, then blacks out, dead.* *Magically revives turning back into a blogger, writer, reader, girl, daughter, sister, cousin, niece, practically much a human.*

Poem

Oh dear old 100

So important

On the verge of thrice

Big

And yet so small

A century

A cent-

A dollar

A bill

Old 

Young

Forever to some

Only a day to others

Oh dear 100

How did you become so important?

My writing. 

Here are some writings that I wrote sometime in my life, that I decided to share with you. Because I hadn't been posting much of my writing lately. Well here they are, also be cautious one of the stories has some inappropriate words (the second one I think). And also please excuse me, if they're suckish, they're unedited. 

TOGETHER WE CAN MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE BY…

Together we can make the world better by picking up trash, anywhere where there is trash. Because if there is trash everywhere, then it’s going to end up in our water supply making us sick and it will also kill valuable animals that are important to our diet.

Together we can make the world better by simply being nice to other people. Because if you’re nice, then other people will probably be nice to you, and then there would be less violence in the world.

Together we can make the world a better place by recycling, reusing and/or reducing. Because if we don’t recycle, then there will be less trees, meaning more carbon dioxide in the air. This will also mean less oxygen in the air.

Together we can make the world a better place by making friends with other countries instead of being enemies. Because if we’re friends instead of foes then there will be a highly chance that there’s not going to be anymore wars, meaning it will be safer for future generations to come.

Together we can make the world a better place by not being bigoted people to other race, religion, or cultures. Because if the whole human race accepted that everyone, man women, adult, child, Asian, or Hispanic is equal, then there would be more peace, balance, and less terrorist attacks in the world. 

Together we can make the world a better place by fighting less, speaking more. Because words has more power then action, if we all had no words, or languages, how will we all understand each other? As they say the pen is mightier than the sword.

Together we can make the world a better place by going green. Because there is only one earth, and already it’s dying because of our ways right now. From global warming to the melting of polar icecaps slowly causing the oceans to rise, the future in the year 3,000 is not going to be a pretty one.

So in order to have a wonderful earth in the future, we have to start changing our actions now. Not tomorrow, next week, or never, NOW.

(It was a reflections project, and the theme was Together we can..) 

I sit crying as I’m about to do the inevitable. I look down into the deep, dark rushing river below, and smell, the cold winter air, mixed with pines, berries, and other fresh, clean scents. But I can’t see the river clearly, nor smell the pines of the fresh wintery forest. For my eyes are flooded with tears, causing my nose to stuff up, making me not breathe clearly, and almost suffocating me. “It’s for the best,” my mind told me. “No one really cares about you anyways. It’s obvious on their conceited, overdone faces, from you getting pushed into the garbage can nearly every day. To the mean messages online, and rumors behind your back. Plus your own family and friends don’t care about you anyway as well,” it thought in a malevolent tone. “They won’t listen to you when you try to talk to them about it. Always ignoring you just to dote on their favorite; believing your fake happiness. And always making you alone, never calling you, not standing up for you. Just stuck in their poorly made love life,” it sneers. That just did, it. The terrible longing pain in my heart has to be stopped, the pain that continually grows from their evil words, their actions. The river below suddenly looked tantalizing. I could feel it begging me to jump in, to end all the miserable pain.
            “Move out of the way loser,” Mi-Mi the popular girl said to me one Friday afternoon.

“Hey, do I hear someone. Or is it a ghost?” said one of the dumb jocks. “Bitch, Whore, Slut, Dumb butt,” all these names and memories start swirling around me, taunting me. Making me sick of life, and angry, very angry. Knowing I can’t really take the anger out on my tormentors. I jump. I can feel the wind rushing up at me, freezing me to the tips of my bones. The river churning fast, looking as if it has many hands ready to catch me. My heart starts beating wildly, wishing it all back. My mind is screaming, wishing I’ve never done this. Should have never jumped off the bridge, what will my family do without me? What will the world do without me? Words, sounds, noises, tried to come out of my mouth, but unable to. My mouth suddenly dry, I wonder how good the water will be in the river, if I wasn’t doing this.
            My death seemed so closer, than I ever thought it would be. Instead of the water currents looking like hands, it started looking like cave stalagmites. Pokey, and deadly. I close my eyes, expecting to feel the impact.

“Hello…” said a distant voice, “hello?” I tried to identify the voice it seemed oddly familiar. The unknown voice sighed, a half annoyed and half why-me sigh. Then I started to feel extremely cold water on my face. I tried to gain conciseness, because even more water was being splattered on me. It made me want to punch the person, oh so badly. After a few more bucketfuls, I managed to open my eyes. Then I started hugging the person, at least knowing that one person cares for me in the world. 

~~~~~

For the last hundred years, I’ve dreamt of nothing but of someone holding me in his arms. Cradling me like a little child. Shielding me away from all the dangers of the world; but most of all loving me for who I really am. When I woke up, I was surprised to see a stranger across from me. What surprised me the most though, was that he was the same guy from my dreams. He’s tall, with boyishly strong muscles. Auburn hair that looks just right on him, with crystal blue eyes that are covered with long eyelashes, and pink full round lips, set evenly on tan skin. Like he’s just lived on the ocean all his life.

Lately, I’ve been having weird dreams about a princess. Oh but not just any princess though, the one that is in Sleeping Beauty. And I think that her name is Aurora. Well, I just happened to stumble across a castle that my tour group was passing by. And well it looked interesting, plus my gut kept on telling me to go inside it. So that’s what I did, I secretly slipped out, hoping no one would notice and went inside. I went through hallway after hallway in a daze not noticing where the heck I was going. When I found a secret door that was under the staircase that looked like stone. My gut told me this was the one. “One what?” the back of my mind thought, but I didn’t notice.

When I went inside, it looked like a room made for royalty. “What the heck,” the back of my mind thought. But I didn’t notice, because in the middle of it all was a person on a bed sleeping peacefully. I wanted to get out, and go back to the tour group. But my foot seems glued here. Something about her looks awfully familiar. Like that girl in my dreams. With her honeysuckle hair, laid carefully on her side. Nearly covering her thick long eyelashes, her soft round lips, snoring quietly. She looked so pretty in the dim light, that I just knew I’ve got to kiss her.

Without thinking about it, my feet instinctively started moving toward her. I tried, practically willed my feet to stop moving but it won’t listen. It just continued walking towards her. Finally, when it stopped, I was right next to her. She was still snoring lightly, not noticing that I was right next to her. I tried to back away, but my feet won’t budge. Instead, I brushed her hair away from her face. “Who the heck is controlling me?” I said aloud. I tried, really tried to not move, nor even breathe, but that didn’t last out long.

 I could hear my heart beating loudly in my ears, and I started blushing for no apparent reason. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” the back of my mind thought. I start inching towards her, finally believing that I really did get abducted by aliens just like my sisters always kept on saying. The girl kept on sleeping, holding her breath for some reason. I was close enough that I could feel her breath on my face, and smell her honey, and lilac perfume. When my lips touched hers, I knew I was crazy. Her lips felt like it belonged with mine, but I pulled away, startled.  I was glad that it was quick and short, and ended quickly, because when I finished she woke up.

Really, startled now, I backed up, looking at her quizzically, like she just popped out of nowhere, even though she was there the whole time. She seemed surprised to, but didn’t back up, she studied me with her baby blue eyes. Now that really surprised me, her eyes, so pale blue that it makes her, I don’t know prettier I guess.

“What the heck?” I thought, because a feeling was starting to arouse in me.

We locked eyes for a moment, before he pulled away, probably still stunned to see me. Like he should because I am a princess, you know. But there was something off with me, something that was feeling like…

Love?

Not the same

Everything changed in a flash. One moment I was just that innocent carefree girl, not giving a dime in the world. Then the next I was worrying about every little detail. Wondering how I’m supposed to survive. Tears streak my already tearstained face, as I watch Amos, my neighbor bury my parents up. I watch, as I recall the memories of the armed robbery at the bank. How I was just at the candy shop around the corner, buying my first treat. How the alarm bell rang its shrill sound. How there was a lot of shooting, then silence.  Silence that could have killed anyone in an instant, if listened to carefully. Then how, I started running, forgetting the treats, just to find my parents. But I was too late. Police already put up the tape, telling everybody to stand back. Though I didn’t listen, I just had to see my parents; to see if they’re alive or not. 

A police officer caught me, before I even touched the glass doors.  She asked why I was here, behind the yellow line. I told her I had to see my parents, to see if they’re alive or not. She said her friends are checking that right now, but she believes that my parents are still alive. Then she did, what my mother always does when I’m sad, pat me on my back gently. Like only a mother could. I smiled a bit, hoping in my heart, that she’s right.

 A couple of minutes later, a big police guy, came out with a grave look on his face. It was then and now, that there’s something deadly serious, one that just resulted badly. The police officer that was patting my back and the big guy stared at each other for a long time, before she sighed. “No, no it can’t be,” I thought willing it not to be true. I was wishing my parents would just come out of the bank right now, and hold on tight like they would always do when I’ve had a nightmare. But I knew that won’t happen I knew no one that was in the bank the time of the shooting would be coming out anytime soon. And that included my parents. The  truth of it all shocked me, then I started crying thinking who has did this is very, very evil.

Later that day, I was at the police station, where they tried contacting people who was nice enough to take me in for the night. While I just sat quietly at a little chair in the corner away from all the chaos, thinking of all the good and bad times I’ve had with my parents. A couple of hours later, when they finally contacted a nice lady to take me in for the night, I was horrified. Thinking of why they’re just giving me to complete and total strangers, but to my relief it was just my next door neighbor. 

The next morning after a not so good night sleep, from sleeping on a lumpy bed, and from coldness of not having my parents across the hall sleeping their troubles away. I started crying, because I couldn’t help it. I missed my parents to much.  Hours later, my other next door neighbor helped me bury my parents in the local cementery. Seeing their faces the last time before the dirt touched their beautiful faces. It made me cry again; who knew the pain of losing someone close could feel so raw that it hurts in your heart so much that it almost makes you want to end your life just to stop the pain.

For today, and the next day I just stayed on my porch, doing nothing but cry. Not caring if people saw or kidnapped me, or anything.  I just sat there and cried. When finally I’ve had enough, I stood up on my wobbly legs, wondering if there’s something to eat. Instantly nostalgia hits me in the pit of my stomach, as memories of my mom’s delicious cooking comes back to me. But I knew I would never get that again, which made me sad all over again. After a while of silence, and memories, a person started walking up to me. At first, I thought it was my mother coming back alive, and was walking up the lawn from her grocery trip. But as I got to see her better, I realized she was not my mom. It was just some random lady, that kind of looks like her. Tears start coming back, only not out of sadness, but out of anger. Anger at what happened the last few days, anger at the person who shot my parents. And anger at my parents for just leaving so suddenly, when I needed them the most right now. In fact, I was so busy being angry, that I hadn’t noticed that the lady was right next to me. (Unfinished as you can see. I couldn't write the next part, because writer's block got to it, and I couldn't really do anything to pry it off)

All the trouble’s that’s been pressing me down, well there’s only one solution. Run. What everyone has been telling me to do. Run. Run away from all the stuff, all the dangers, and from all my loves. Even if they are the one causing all the trouble, the one that sworn to marry me, and love me for the rest of my life. The one who’s broken many hearts, including mine many times. The one who I always go back to, to get comfort, but only to get hurt every time. The one who I thought was mine. 

“Run,” said Baxter, before he too ran from my life. Just like what everyone’s been doing lately. So I decide to listen to them. Only not run away, but more like run towards to something. Something that tells me answers. Answers about who I am, and also about what I’m supposed to be. Answers, about my past life. Answers about my family. But most of all answers about love.

So this is my last entry before I depart onto the next train ride to nowhere, that’s going to be somewhere. So just, know this is my last one, before I write more. Before I have answers. Just know that I’m still alive, and, well, and strong. Trying to be independent for once and for all. 

Pictures. 

CAKE! A random picture that I drew, and I decided to show you.

Here is the words from let to write.
Guy hiding behind a turtle, and a rock: Help! I'm stuck?
On the rock: Oddly looks like cake doesn't it?
Turtle: Shh! I'm not a rock!
And then there's the worms forming the word NINJA.

A cake, a smiley face, a moon, and yes a white sun

A watermelon with red stripes

The yellow dot is the giraffe, that just ate some leaves. 

                                       

Watch out, there might be mountain lions on the loose. 

What do you wish for?

Me: DUCK!
Duck: Where?

                                     

Have you ever?
(Copied, and pasted from a facebook note tag game 100 truths about you)

HAVE YOU EVER?

19. Been in an airplane - Nope not once in my whole life

20. Been in a relationship - Nope

21. Been in a car accident - Thank goodness, no

22. Been in a fist fight - No! I'm too good to do that. 

23. First piercing - When i was eight-years old I think

24. First best friend – My twin of course

25. First award - Perfect attendance

26. First crush – I forgot... 

27. First word – I have no idea

29. Last friend you talked to in person - My twin, Tracy. 

30. Last person you texted - I don't have a phone (no smiley face, because I don't really regret it) 

31. Last friend you watched a movie with - My twin (have you noticed, that we nearly do everything together?) 

32. Last food you ate – A fried spring roll (Vietnamese version of an egg roll)

33. Last movie you watched – I don't really remember

34: last song you listened to- Speak Now, by Taylor Swift

35. Last thing you bought - A doughnut, from the local bakery. 

36. Last person you hugged – I can't remember

Quotes

•          Beauty can’t amuse you, but brainwork- reading, writing, thinking- can. Helen Gurley Brown
•          Nobody’s free ‘til everybody’s free. Fannie Lou Townsend Hamer
•          Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. Patrick Verona, 10 Things I Hate About You
•          Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out? Ian Wallace, What a Girl Wants
•   Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. And small minds discuss people.
• I've messed up a lot and learned lessons. I’m not perfect. I’m human. I make mistakes. Selena Gomez
•    Because with joy, we overcome the terror. With love, strength, and hope, we prevail. From the book . Sarah Darer Littman
•   You never know what love is and what kind of person appeals to you unless you allow yourself to fall in love and get your heart at least once. Nina Dobrev
• No matter how much pressure boys and school can bring, the best thing you can do is respect yourself. You won’t regret it. Britt Robertson

    Who's to say, 

What's impossible...?

Well they forgot

This world keeps spinning

And with each new day

I can feel a change in everything

And as the surface breaks reflections fade

But in some ways they remain the same

And as my mind begins to spread its wings

There's no stopping curiosity ~ Unknown

Okay that is the end. I hope you enjoyed it, and it took a long while to make it. Well au revoir, and 

à bientôt as the French would say. 

And pardon the dot, it just randomly popped up, and I forgot the music. And one more for good luck, here.

© Copyrighted. All writing, and pictures posted here, shall not be put anywhere else, not unless you get permission from me. 

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The runner ups.

Here are the runner ups of the summer contest. I'll post the second contest up soon, I promise. The first one is by Shelby, her blogs can be found at http://comeallcomewrite.blogspot.com/, http://writinginsidejokes.blogspot.com/, and http://www.thefashionistagirls.blogspot.com/

Summer

by Shelby

The bell rings.

Only smiles,

as children

are freed.

The boys run home

already making plans

for a baseball game.

Splash! as the girls

jump into the pool.

That's when summer starts.

When happiness starts.

This one was written by a viewer named Nikita

Through the Open Plains
By:Nikita Johnson
   In the hot Californian sun,did he sun set,and the girl's parents were talking.Sarah listened in and told Bianca what about.They were talking about the girls and their brother going to Texas!They were using the laptop to find chauffeurs and travel deals.Finally after 10 minutes the girls went to their comfy beds.
    The next morning their parents "surprised" them with the news.They were going in 2 days.They talked and went up to pack for the flight.The days passed as quickly as the desert sun.Soon,it was time.They told the parents bye,and got on he plane.They played games that 9 year old Sarah knew,but Bianca who was 13 didn't remember.
    It seemed like days had passed before landing.Jeremiah was waiting.Then,they picked up their baggage and took 3 hours to drive back to the ranch.On the way back the wind picked up speed and didn't slow down.It only went faster.
    They were in a monsoon with 2 tornadoes touching down.The wind reached 20 mph,and the car toppled over,them inside.They all were injured and finally got out.The parents eyes were glued to the weather channel and then they saw the tornado.
     They tried to come,but all flights were closed.A hurricane was on its way....

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