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
Friday, December 30, 2011
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
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