My lips feel so dry, I feel a sharp pain as I open my mouth to yawn. My chocolate brown eyes are fuzzy without my contacts, and my hair is a halo of caramel around my pale, heart-shaped face. I am still shaking. I look around this unfamiliar room as I stare at my cell phone, lying innocently on the wooden sidetable. My heart is hammering in my chest, to an extent that I fear it might stop at any moment. I am drenched in sweat, yet I am shivering with cold. I hear my sister's peaceful breathing of sleep beside me and it brings a smile to my face, knowing she is well. While I am confused, and broken, she is still happy and well. The whole world is not over, I tell myself. Stop overreacting...
My body feels numb as I throw my left, then right leg over the bed and plant my shaking feet on the worn beige carpet. I walk in a daze to the bathroom, quietly locking the door behind me. The face in the mirror is unrecognizable. This girl I see, with her unplucked dark eyebrows and her tangled warm brown hair. Her dark brown eyes are wild with worrry, and her face is completely drained of color. The sweat marks on her blue Fruit-Loops T-shirt are unmistakable. Her lips are a straight line, the bottom one trembling slightly as she stares into a mirror...? It cannot be a mirror because the girl in the mirror is not me. The girl in the mirror is a girl who worries about little things and allows her heart to be broken. That is not me. I am strong, independant. I do not worry about boys or material things. I do not allow people to ruin me, and tear me down, because I am a woman. A woman who believes in herself.
I do not know whether to be happy or sad, and the only emotion that crosses my mind is puzzled. Confused. Shocked. Broken? Relieved?
No, the girl in the mirror is not me. The girl in the mirror is a stranger; with an angel kissing her cheek. I am not jealous of the girl in the mirror. The girl in the mirror will be hurt.
I will not be that girl in the mirror.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Friday, December 30, 2011
The world is spinning. My almond shaped brown eyes sting with tears, and my knotted dark hair has soft clumps of earth stuck to it. I know that my eyes are filled with fear, anxiety, and so many more emotions. I push myself to allow one emotion to reign over the others. To break the solid walls of my fears and give me strength. It is the one emotion that I know I can win this war with. The only thing I know I have, that these men- if that is truly what they are- do not. Love.
Two years ago, on my 13th birthday, strange men flooded my home and took me away. They came silently in the night, and nobody knew I was gone until morning. I do not know why I didn't scream. I tried, but something about the way they looked at me, caused the piercing scream to freeze halfway up my throat; an icy pinicle of horror. One of these strange men looked at me in a different way. He had glowing green eyes and flaming red locks that I could see slipping out from underneath the strange, eery war helmets that sat on their heads. In his stony face, I could find some compassion. For one moment, I felt the courage to scream. To leap out of these men's arms and run to away and never look back. But before I could make a sound or move a muscle, he had looked away. None of the men looked at me like that in the 2 years Ive been locked up here. And I will always remember that one that was different.
To Be Continued
Two years ago, on my 13th birthday, strange men flooded my home and took me away. They came silently in the night, and nobody knew I was gone until morning. I do not know why I didn't scream. I tried, but something about the way they looked at me, caused the piercing scream to freeze halfway up my throat; an icy pinicle of horror. One of these strange men looked at me in a different way. He had glowing green eyes and flaming red locks that I could see slipping out from underneath the strange, eery war helmets that sat on their heads. In his stony face, I could find some compassion. For one moment, I felt the courage to scream. To leap out of these men's arms and run to away and never look back. But before I could make a sound or move a muscle, he had looked away. None of the men looked at me like that in the 2 years Ive been locked up here. And I will always remember that one that was different.
To Be Continued
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Epic Fail at a short story.
The circle of life in high school. Either your on the top of the food chain and you live a long and happy high school life, or your that loser that died your freshman. Maybe I shouldn't be so blunt, but that's kind of the way high school works if you think about it. I've always been that quiet little girl no one really knew. Maria who? Oh, that Mexican chick. I'm not Mexican, thank you very much. I'm from Spain. Barcelona, actually. I was born there and my family moved here when I was about 5. So yes, I can speak some Spanish, but I mostly speak English because after living here for 10 years now, I'm pretty sure I've picked up a thing or two. So I've learned to keep to myself, because people tend to judge me because of how different I am. Mama says I'd be prettier if I 'cared about my appearance'. Just because I don't wear a pound of makeup and shirts that make my boobs hang out, doesn't mean I don't care about myself. I look a lot like Ma, and I think she wishes I could be like her when she was in High School. She constantly talks about how she was 'the hot mamacita'. She had all the friends and blah...blah...blah. Mamacita? That's not even Spanish.
* * *
AHHH.
Forget it. Told you i'd fail:P
* * *
AHHH.
Forget it. Told you i'd fail:P
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Mourning Bliss
*this story is more so about my life, although all the facts are not true. So...bare with me...*
I don't know what happened that night. It was the overwhelming that felt like a million knives were floating above my head. One wrong move and they'd all strike. One wrong word, and that was the end. The end of myself...the end of everything. I don't know what it was, but all night I just lay there...wondering what the hell was going on. I felt sick..An angry swarm of butterflies, more like a flock of mad birds, swarmed in my stomach. My head felt like a balloon. Everyone was asleep, and I just lay there...one of the worst feelings in the world. The feeling of...somehow knowing you might lose someone you love most. Somehow. I didn't sleep that night. My brown eyes never once shut, for I was much to paranoid to close them. Far too terrified, paralyzed with fear even, to do anything but lay there and stare blankly at the TV screen. And the story goes on from there.
***
The smell of pine needles drifted into my nose early that morning, and I sat up confused. Of course I looked a mess. Me in the morning was not a pretty sight. My stringy chocolate brown hair was a matted and tangled mess, and my dark brown eyes were crusty with sleep. I quickly wiped my eyes and looked around my room. The familiar sights. The guacamole green walls plastered with a million different posters from my favorite movies, pictures, and bible quotes. The piles of clean close on the floor that I'd been too lazy to put away. My ipod earbuds hanging over the bed like wet noodles. I picked them up and hung them over the ladder of my bunk bed, sighing and running a hand through my hair, hating the morning. Growing up in a big family wasn't easy. I was the oldest of 4, which meant I was first for EVERYTHING. I was the first to have a boyfriend, the first to have my heart broken, the first to get a cell phone. Which meant my parents didn't know how to deal with me yet. I supposed it was fair, but I hated the misfortune that came with being the eldest child. I threw my legs over the bed and smoothed out my favorite fuzzy striped PJ pants, pulling up my bright green tank top and standing up, wobbling over to the door and peeking out to see who was up. What was I thinking? It was 10:30 in the morning. My whole house was always up at this time. I was usually the last one to rise, just because...I like staying up late. I made my way down the stairs, struggling not to fall over the whole time, realizing the scent of pine needles was the Christmas tree. My dad was throwing it out. We always did right after New Years. I couldn't believe it was another year. Another year to screw things up. Another year to be a lonely mess of a failure. I had to laugh at myself at that one. Your pathetic, you know that? I sighed, rolling my chocolate brown eyes and making the rest of the way to the kitchen, muttering a quick good morning to my brothers and dad, and sitting next to my sister on the cool wooden barstool at the counter.
"What's for breakfast?"
I didn't know why I even bothered ask a question like that.
"Whatever you make yourself."
Of course. I sighed, getting up and throwing the pantry door open, my eyes scanning the little food we had. It was hard with the amount of money we had, but I knew my parents tried. I sighed, realizing I didn't want any of the 2 boxes of cereal we had, and shut the door, falling onto the couch and flipping my phone open for texts. 2 new messages.
Amanda- You up for a movie today?
I smiled at that and gave her a quick reply of maybe, considering my parents didn't always let me and I'd been up all night last night.
ehh...I'm bored now. Maybe more later:P Who am I kidding? There won't be;P
I don't know what happened that night. It was the overwhelming that felt like a million knives were floating above my head. One wrong move and they'd all strike. One wrong word, and that was the end. The end of myself...the end of everything. I don't know what it was, but all night I just lay there...wondering what the hell was going on. I felt sick..An angry swarm of butterflies, more like a flock of mad birds, swarmed in my stomach. My head felt like a balloon. Everyone was asleep, and I just lay there...one of the worst feelings in the world. The feeling of...somehow knowing you might lose someone you love most. Somehow. I didn't sleep that night. My brown eyes never once shut, for I was much to paranoid to close them. Far too terrified, paralyzed with fear even, to do anything but lay there and stare blankly at the TV screen. And the story goes on from there.
***
The smell of pine needles drifted into my nose early that morning, and I sat up confused. Of course I looked a mess. Me in the morning was not a pretty sight. My stringy chocolate brown hair was a matted and tangled mess, and my dark brown eyes were crusty with sleep. I quickly wiped my eyes and looked around my room. The familiar sights. The guacamole green walls plastered with a million different posters from my favorite movies, pictures, and bible quotes. The piles of clean close on the floor that I'd been too lazy to put away. My ipod earbuds hanging over the bed like wet noodles. I picked them up and hung them over the ladder of my bunk bed, sighing and running a hand through my hair, hating the morning. Growing up in a big family wasn't easy. I was the oldest of 4, which meant I was first for EVERYTHING. I was the first to have a boyfriend, the first to have my heart broken, the first to get a cell phone. Which meant my parents didn't know how to deal with me yet. I supposed it was fair, but I hated the misfortune that came with being the eldest child. I threw my legs over the bed and smoothed out my favorite fuzzy striped PJ pants, pulling up my bright green tank top and standing up, wobbling over to the door and peeking out to see who was up. What was I thinking? It was 10:30 in the morning. My whole house was always up at this time. I was usually the last one to rise, just because...I like staying up late. I made my way down the stairs, struggling not to fall over the whole time, realizing the scent of pine needles was the Christmas tree. My dad was throwing it out. We always did right after New Years. I couldn't believe it was another year. Another year to screw things up. Another year to be a lonely mess of a failure. I had to laugh at myself at that one. Your pathetic, you know that? I sighed, rolling my chocolate brown eyes and making the rest of the way to the kitchen, muttering a quick good morning to my brothers and dad, and sitting next to my sister on the cool wooden barstool at the counter.
"What's for breakfast?"
I didn't know why I even bothered ask a question like that.
"Whatever you make yourself."
Of course. I sighed, getting up and throwing the pantry door open, my eyes scanning the little food we had. It was hard with the amount of money we had, but I knew my parents tried. I sighed, realizing I didn't want any of the 2 boxes of cereal we had, and shut the door, falling onto the couch and flipping my phone open for texts. 2 new messages.
Amanda- You up for a movie today?
I smiled at that and gave her a quick reply of maybe, considering my parents didn't always let me and I'd been up all night last night.
ehh...I'm bored now. Maybe more later:P Who am I kidding? There won't be;P
Monday, December 6, 2010
Breezes
The light breeze ruffled my muddy brown mane, sending chills down my bare forearms. I hugged myself tightly as another blast of frigid air ruffled my hair around my face. My dark brown eyes fixed upon the melted sky; purples, pinks and oranges; all mixed into a mess of colors called the sunset. The roof was cold, and I could see little patches of ice scattered across the rough black expanse around me. It was dangerous sitting up here in this cold, with nothing dark jeans and a navy blue pepsi T-shirt to keep me warm, but I didn't care. This was my way of making things better. Sure, I was freezing my butt off, but I'd get used to it eventually. I could sit up here for hours and it'd feel like minutes to me. It was my thinking place. When I was little I thought it was magic. I'd found I could climb to this part of the roof from my window when I was 5 years old. And if I fell, I'd simply fall onto the little balcony next to my room window. It wasn't too dangerous. It was possible to fall though; and it'd probably hurt. When I was little, I'd sit out here for what seemed like hours, and go inside and realize it'd only been a few minutes. I swore to myself that this place was magic.
Ha. I wanna write more, but I ran outta time. MOre later. Maybe.
Ha. I wanna write more, but I ran outta time. MOre later. Maybe.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Who would you choose?
If you had to choose one and only one person to spend forever with...who would you choose? You and whomever..against nothing. Because there wasn't a world anymore. And you were chosen to live? It's sounds silly, but this is my reality. I never really thought that something like this could happen. It all happened in books and movies and..stuff like that, but when it became my life..everything changed. Of course everything changed. When your around someone and only them...forever...it's not easy. No matter how much you love them. So let's start from the beginning. A normal, lonely day of high school. Oh joy.
I'd woken up that morning like every other morning...exhausted and wishing for much more sleep than I'd gotten. My chocolate fudge brownie colored hair sprawled across my pillow as if I had some sort of an aura around my head. My dark brown eyes scanned the room, my brain not yet reacting to the loud sound of my alarm clock screaming at me. I didn't want to go to school...we'd been fighting..and it hurt to see him. It hurt not to see him even more but...I guess it was something I had to endure. I finally rolled over and slammed my hand down on the alarm clock, making it silence as I sat up in bed, running my numb fingers through my knotty, morning-fresh hair. Last night wasn't a good night. I hated arguing, but I wanted to make things right. Ever since school had started, things felt completely wrong and..I missed him. I tried to tell him that, but I guess it only made him mad. So I decided I would stop trying. I supposed no matter how many times I thought he would be the way he was to me before, it would never be the same...people change. Whatever. I stumbled out of bed and over to my closet, leaning against the wall and sighing.
more later
I'd woken up that morning like every other morning...exhausted and wishing for much more sleep than I'd gotten. My chocolate fudge brownie colored hair sprawled across my pillow as if I had some sort of an aura around my head. My dark brown eyes scanned the room, my brain not yet reacting to the loud sound of my alarm clock screaming at me. I didn't want to go to school...we'd been fighting..and it hurt to see him. It hurt not to see him even more but...I guess it was something I had to endure. I finally rolled over and slammed my hand down on the alarm clock, making it silence as I sat up in bed, running my numb fingers through my knotty, morning-fresh hair. Last night wasn't a good night. I hated arguing, but I wanted to make things right. Ever since school had started, things felt completely wrong and..I missed him. I tried to tell him that, but I guess it only made him mad. So I decided I would stop trying. I supposed no matter how many times I thought he would be the way he was to me before, it would never be the same...people change. Whatever. I stumbled out of bed and over to my closet, leaning against the wall and sighing.
more later
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Terrified.
Sometimes I just got scared. It seemed natural enough for a teenage girl to be paranoid and nervous and scared that something bad might happen, but with Bennett it was different. It wasn't that I was scared of him breaking up with me or liking some other girl. In a way, I guess I was scared of those things. But it was something more. It was just the mere thought of losing him, that made me cry myself to sleep at night. I didn't want to drift away. I wanted every night to be like the night I fell asleep in his arms. I wanted to wake up to his perfect, wonderful voice every morning. And just thinking about it, I had to smile. Because he made everything in my life perfect. Absolutely perfect. Everything just happened so quickly, I didn't know what was happening. But I think I should start from the beginning. Now you know how much I love him. Maybe you'll understand why this is so hard for me. But that's for later.
The day it all began was like any other day. It was a bitter cold December day, a few days before winter break, and walking to my high school was definitely not my most favorite part of the day; especially in this kind of weather. So, like an icicle in high fashion boots, I scurried across the high way, which, yes, I had looked both ways before crossing, was almost completely empty. I clutched my books tightly to my chest, and booked it, my heart stopping when my feet flew out from under me against the slippery ice, and my books went flying to the ditch on the side of the road. To make matters worse, as soon as I landed on the ground, I saw the bright flash of headlights in front of me. If I hadn't been already injured, I could've saved myself. Could've. I tried desperately to drag myself over to the side of the road. Guess what? It was too late? You guessed that didn't you? Yes, I get hit by a car and land myself in the hospital.
more later.
The day it all began was like any other day. It was a bitter cold December day, a few days before winter break, and walking to my high school was definitely not my most favorite part of the day; especially in this kind of weather. So, like an icicle in high fashion boots, I scurried across the high way, which, yes, I had looked both ways before crossing, was almost completely empty. I clutched my books tightly to my chest, and booked it, my heart stopping when my feet flew out from under me against the slippery ice, and my books went flying to the ditch on the side of the road. To make matters worse, as soon as I landed on the ground, I saw the bright flash of headlights in front of me. If I hadn't been already injured, I could've saved myself. Could've. I tried desperately to drag myself over to the side of the road. Guess what? It was too late? You guessed that didn't you? Yes, I get hit by a car and land myself in the hospital.
more later.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)