Category Archives: Anonymous
You can not own land
As you can not own a tree
It simply owns us
She is a beautiful one
She is a quiet one, almost never talking, yet she tells me many things
She listens to me when I have things on my mind, never interrupting
She is invisible to others, yet an amazing jewel in my eyes
She is a puzzle to many, but a beautiful picture to I
She is known by all, yet hated by many
She helps me through many of my troubles
She is one of the greatest friends I have ever known
She is one of my best companions
She is my favorite love
She is Solitude and
She is the one for me
- New car smell
- Last day of school
- New shoes
- Fast food
- Finding money
- The sizzle of fresh coke
- Bright white teeth
- Long hair
- Movies that make you laugh over and over again
- Holding hands
- Things that glow in the dark
- Being taller than you parents
- Farmers tans
- Long hair
- Winning and argument
- Why everything goes right
- First day of sumer
- When a song is stuck in your head
- Brownies fresh out of the oven
- When you turn the radio on and your song comes on
- Funny faces
- Chocolate chip cookie dough
- Blank looks when people don’t get the joke
- Smooth writing pens
- Sunlight breaking through the clouds
- Popcorn chicken with ranch
- Middle names
- McDonalds sweet tea
- Mrs. Rice’s class
- My family
- Late night basketball games
- New car smell
- Going to concerts
- Racing Walmart carts
- Fresh fruit
- Random morning text messages
- Laughing babies
- Someone that can make you smile uncontrollably
- Sneaking snacks into the movie theater
- The language you have with your beast friend that no one else understands
- Dentists who have TV’s in their ceilings
I woke up to a text saying “I miss you”. Unfortunately, it was from the wrong person. This was not the person I missed too, this was just a random guy who thought he knew me, but he didn’t. I stared at the text for a long time, wishing I could change the number it was sent from and wondering what I was supposed to say back. I went and ate breakfast, buying myself time by making him think I wasn’t awake yet. I opened the text ten more times, typed something out, then deleted it. I didn’t want to lie and get his hopes up. I didn’t want to hurt him like I’d been hurt, but I didn’t want to be mean either. I looked at the text again. “I’m sorry” I thought as I typed out my reply. “I miss you to” and send. He texted back “Can’t wait to see you, what are you doing gorgeous?” I felt sick. Little did he know, my simple “I miss you too” meant so much to him and so little to me. To me, it meant “I should just let you go”, “I’m not being fair to you”, “You don’t deserve this”, “You’ll never be him”. I sat there staring at his last text and sighed. After thinking of several things I could say, I decided to with “yea. nothing.” and send. Knowing I’d crush him, I set my phone down and went outside. When I came back, I had to build up the courage just to check my phone. He had texted back, “I think I love you”. I threw the phone against the wall. Why couldn’t I just say what needed to be said.
We were driving, my best friend Lace and I. Well I was driving. She was fixing her make-up with the car mirror as we sung along to the Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.
It was a special day: my nineteenth birthday. Ah my special extravagant present was a car! I’d been begging for one since I got my drivers permit at fourteen, but I didn’t get one then. Neither did I get one at my sweet sixteen, not even for graduation.
I wasn’t expecting one this year; my dream of someone buying a car for me died long ago. Though I guess sometimes the unexpected happens.
“Crap!” said Lace.
“What?” I said, turning on my blinker.
“I dropped my lip gloss, its right under you foot, hand it to me” she ordered at me. I guess lip gloss is important.
I reached for it, bending down. I then heard Lace scream “Watch out!”. After that I felt the car crash into us hard, flipping our car. It just kept flipping; me and Lace screamed. Not one of those screams when you ride a carnival ride or your little brother goes “boo!” at you. This was a scream that was screamed when you know it was over. When you know there’s no way to save yourself. The scream of death.
It finally stopped flipping. We stood still, rocking only a bit. I cough from the car exhaust or whatever that was. I screamed when I tried to move my definitely broken arm. And I cried as I looked at the blood on Lace’s head and her unmoving body.
I screamed for her to wake up, as I yelled for help. I shook her, helplessly. I cried, I cried, and I cried. We were upside down, and if I was thinking about how nauseous I was, I would have thrown up.
I cringed as I moved my broken arm to unbuckle my seatbelt. I fell a bit. I struggled to push open the door. It just kept falling back on me. Finally I pushed it hard enough, though I let out quite a scream.
I fell to the road, as glass, rocks and everything else stabbed and poked me. The road was deserted. My life now changed forever. What life? It’s all over now. I then laid on the glassy ground and went to sleep, hoping it was but a dream.
Change happens whether we like it or not. Nothing can prepare us for change or warn us that change is coming. Maybe that’s why change is so scary. It happens when we least expect it and can turn a person’s world upside down. I would have never guessed that in one moment, my life would be irrevocably changed. Everything I had come to accept as normal would be wiped away in a matter of seconds. All it took was one phone call. It all started on a day no different than any other.
“Wake up, sweetie,” my mom said as she gently shook my shoulder. I grunted and pulled the covers back over my head. My mother laugher her loud, goofy laugh and shook me one last time. I begrudgingly rolled out of bed to greet the new day. I walked down the stairs following the aroma of pancakes and vegetarian omelets. My father and brother were already seated at the table and scarfing down their breakfast enthusiastically.
My mother was wearing her crazy apron with pictures of all different kinds of cartoon frogs. She had on our ancient radio and was singing (horribly off tune) along to a Beatles song as she cooked. Just as I sat down, she put a plate with a tower of hot, steaming pancakes in front of me. I gratefully dug in. when she passed my father, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. She playfully slapped him with her spatula, her eyes twinkling. I rolled my eyes and laughed as my brother made gagging noises. Our parents were like that all the time. After breakfast, my mother drove my brother and me to school. She drives an old, beat-up van that is painted neon green. It embarrasses me to go anywhere with her because she is so different. To make matters worse, she honks and waves at us when she drops us off.
I turn bright red and don’t bother to wave back. I will probably regret that for the rest of my life. Then I rush over to my best friend Skye.
We talk until the bell rings and then we head to class. Skye has been my best friend since elementary school. We do everything together and tell each other everything.
School is the same as everyday. Boring and redundant. Although that day something horrible happens. In fourth period, my principal bursts into the room and speaks to my teacher in a low, serious tone. The news must be bad because my teacher pales and starts fidgeting. Please don’t let it be about me. Please don’t let it be about me. Please don’t let it be about me, I silently pray. Then my teacher solemnly says, “Bliss Haven. The principal needs to speak with you.” There was something in his expression, brimming behind his eyes. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. I got out of my chair and tried to avoid all the eyes on me.
My limbs felt like lead as I made my way to the principal’s office. It took all my strength to lift my feet. Almost as if my body knew what was about to happen and it was warning me. I took a deep breath and turned the knob, even though I wanted to run away in the opposite direction. The principal was on the phone and was pacing back and forth.
“Yes. She’s right here.”
He handed me the phone. My heart started thumping faster and faster, and I could hear a roaring in my ears. I wasn’t ready for this. I suddenly realized what I recognized in my teacher’s expression. Pity.
“H-hello,” I croaked.
It was my dad. His voice was ragged as if he had been crying.
“Yes. I-it’s m-me.”
“There’s been an accident. Your mother. Not going to make it.” He sobbed, unable to from coherent sentences. My hands started to shake, and I dropped the phone. I fumbled around the floor, trying to find it. But I couldn’t because everything was blurry. Then I looked up and saw the phone in the principal’s outstretched hand. He actually had tears in his eyes.
“She’s gone. She’s gone,” my dad was repeating. I don’t think he even remembered he was on the phone.
“Dad,” I said worriedly, but he just kept repeating it.
“Tell your brother she’s gone.”
I will, Dad. I will. I’m coming home. Just stay there. Don’t move. I’m on my way.” I sobbed.
“She’s gone, Bliss. The love of my life is gone.”
Then the line went dead, thus ending the moment that forever changed my life. Now everything about my life is a reminder of all I’ve lost and all the things I took for granted.
Now I awake to the blaring of my alarm clock. That is if I’m even able to get any sleep. These days sleep is impossible. The emptiness in my chest keeps me awake all night. I always get up, though, no matter how tired I am. I know my family needs me, so I gather what’s left of my strength and face the day. I make breakfast for my little brother and my father. I have to take it to my father’s room each morning. Day after day he lies on his bed, staring at the TV, even though it’s turned off. Countless bottles of beer litter the floor. I have no idea where he gets them, but I always throw away the empty ones. The next day there would always be more. I never ever go in my mom’s office. It is too painful and overwhelming just to know she will never be scurrying around with her paintbrush in her hand and a crazy, goofy grin on her face.
Then I walk to school with my brother as an oh-so-familiar ache forms in the pit of my stomach. School is like a prison to me. Everywhere I go, people are staring at me. Some try to hid it by peeking at me out of the corners of their eyes, while others openly stare at me with wide eyes. The all have the same look in their eyes: pity. I can hear their whispers everywhere I turn.
“Is that the girl whose mother died?”
“Isn’t she the one with the weird mother?”
“Oh… that poor girl. I can’t imagine what its like for her to lose her mother at this age.”
“She looks like a zombie. Just because her mother died doesn’t mean she can walk around like that.”
“That’s the girl whose mother died. Yeah. And I hear her dads becoming a major alcoholic. I know! It’s so tragic. I’m so glad that’s not me.”
I was the talk of the school. Even the teachers and faculty referred to me as, “the Girl”.
Many of my teachers had told me that I could have extensions on all of my assignments. A few even said that if I needed to talk, they were there for me. I am getting so much attention when all I really want is to disappear. I got through each day of school in a daze. By the time I get out of school I don’t even remember one thing my teachers said. I’m not even sure how I travel from class to class, but somehow I’m where I’m supposed to be. At least my body is where it’s supposed to be, but my min is far, far away.
I think about my old life. About how much I miss my mother. Without her, my entire life has changed. I’m responsible for all the meals and cleaning and I have to keep an eye on my little brother. I’m really worried about him. He’s barely said one word since our mother’s funeral. I hear him crying at night through my thin walls. If eel horrible because I don’t know how to comfort him. I can’t bring out mother back, nor can I replace her.
I’m just doing my best to keep it all together and not have a mental breakdown. It’s bad enough that my old best friend Skye tries to reach out to me.
The other day she came up behind me while I was at my locker. She tapped my shoulder and said, “We need to talk, Bliss.”
“No… I’ll be late to class,” I said brusquely.
She cocked her head in a painstakingly familiar way. I got a pang in my chest just listening to her. I wish we could still be friends, but things are different now. I’m different now. She’s just a reminder of my old life, and it would be too painful to bear to pretend like everything is okay.
“You know that doesn’t matter to you anymore,” she said sadly.
I couldn’t argue with that, so I said, “Make it quick.”
“I miss you, Bliss. I miss all the things we used to do together. I miss being able to tell you everything. I miss spending time with you. I just… I really miss you.”
She had tears dancing in her bright blue eyes. She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. I brushed it off and ignored the look of hurt that contorted her face.
“I miss you too, but we can’t be friends. Besides, the girl you used to be best friends with doesn’t exist anymore.”
She just stood there with pity written all over her face. I could take that from every other person in the school, but not from her. I didn’t want her pity. I wiped the tears from my eyes and walked away without looking back.
One minute changed my life forever more. Nothing will ever be the same again. I will never hear my mother’s laugh, watch her face light up in a smile, or feel her arms around me. I will miss her until the day I die. I know now that everything is always changing.
Pain from the past, affecting the future.
She runs from her demons, but they always find her.
Alone and scared she hides her secrets.
Nobody sees how they devour her, pick at her, probe at her
Destroys her from the inside out
She dries up her tears, and puts on a fake smile
She cannot be fixed
She is now and will always be broken.