Wake Up
I never liked conflict. When I was little my parents would fight a lot. I would just close my eyes and pretend to disappear. They would never notice, they just kept screaming at each other. Eventually I learned to ignore it and I started to pretend that everything was going to be OK in the end, but nothing was OK. I was just fooling myself. They split up when I was ten. I think that was when I decided to fall asleep to the world. If the world was just full of pain and fighting, then I wanted no part in it. Yet, I couldn’t get away from it. My parents never got back together so they were always fighting over me. There were always bullies at school, or relationship problems, and it seemed like I would never get a break.
When I graduated, I decided to go to a college that was 2,000 miles away from my hometown, and away from the conflict. My thought process was, “I can finally have some peace by myself.” So I left, with everyone still arguing about me even after I was gone, and I never wanted to go back.
Two Years Later.....
“You have any plans tonight, Andrea?” My roommate Rachel asks me as we walk around campus.
“No, just homework.” I smile.
“Can’t your homework wait until Saturday? It’s Friday night, let’s go do something.” Rachel pleads with me, then adds sweetly, “I know where Scott hangs out on Friday nights.”
I feel my face flush, “I’ve told you I’m not looking for a relationship.” I object.
“It’s just one night!” Rachel insists, “It’ll be fun!”
“Leave her alone, Rachel.” My friend Natasha jumps in, “She actually cares about graduating, unlike some people.”
“Can’t you have a little fun while you’re waiting to graduate?” Rachel says, “What do you think, Andrea. Can you have fun, or is all about work?”
I bite my lip, “I don’t know.”
Natasha laughs, “Come on, who’s side are you on, Andrea?”
“Andrea, are you even listening to me?” Mom waved her hand in front of my face.
“Sorry Mom, what were you saying?”
“I was asking if you wanted to spend the weekend with me or Robert.”
“You mean, my Dad?” I looked down into my bowl of cereal and cautiously said, “I think it’s my turn to go to Dad’s house.”
“Why do you insist on taking turns when you can just stay here with me?” Mom demanded and slamed the refrigerator door closed.
I quickly filled my mouth with food so that I didn’t have to answer.
“Who’s side are you on, Andrea?”
Why do I have to pick a side?
I feel gravity wieghing on me, pressuring me to say something.
“I’m going to the dorm, I’ll see you guys later.” I leave my friends to talk with each other. I retreat to my dorm room and enjoy some peace and quiet for a few hours until I hear a knock on the door.
“I needed to change before I go out.” Rachel says innocently.
Natasha rolls her eyes, “She wanted to convince you to come with us.” Gravity starts to weigh on me again as Rachel pleads and prods.
“Fine.” I sigh and give in, “I’ll go tonight if you’ll leave me alone tomorrow.”
Rachel squeals and proceeds to squeeze me into a tight white mini skirt with black tights and a white and black checked blouse. After she is done primping me, she says excitedly, “You are going to love this place.”
As soon as I arrive I know that I’m going to hate this place. I can already hear the loud thumping music when we pull up to the large club. I walk slowly to the front door, or as well as I can in Natasha’s forest green pumps that Rachel insisted that I wear.
When we get inside I feel my eardrums burst. I let Rachel lead me through the thick crowd, since I can’t see anything except flashing lights. We arrive at a table with some of my other colleagues who are laughing and yelling at each other over the noise. Rachel introduces me and then joins in their conversation. My head is already pounding so I smile and sit into an empty chair at the table.
After about fifteen minutes my headache is unbearable and I’m pouring sweat. I’m sick of yelling every time I want to be heard and my breath comes short in the suffocating room. I excuse myself and navigate my way to the front door. When I finally find myself outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air and let the night breeze rush over me. The thumping music is still making my head spin so I walk farther away from the club in no particular direction.
Soon I spot a quaint burger joint up the street and decide to eat there, since my headache prevented me from eating at the club. After I get my food, I take a seat at a table outside. The view of the city is magnificent. Bright lights shine from cars, buildings, and street lights while the black night sky shines with millions of stars.
“Aren’t the stars beautiful, Dad?” I commented. We were eating burgers outside on his back porch and I was staring up into the sky, “I think that one is my favorite.” I pointed to a little light in the black sky.
Dad grunted, “You can’t have a favorite star, Andrea.”
“Why not?” I asked indignantly.
“Because, there are too many. You can never pick one out amongst the millions of stars. If one was missing you would never notice.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Are you saying my star isn’t important?” I demanded.
“Exactly.” Dad picked up my empty paper plate, “Stars are just like humans, there are so many people in the world, one missing person doesn’t matter because there will always be another person to take their place.”
“Is anyone sitting here?” A voice asks. Startled, I look up and notice that all of the tables around me are filled with people. An elderly man stands in front of me with his tray in hand.
“No, go ahead. I was just about to leave anyway.” I say and start to collect my trash.
“You don’t have to leave, I won’t bother you a bit.” He says then sits down across from me.
“I should get going anyway, my friends are going to be wondering where I am.”
“Are they at that fancy club across the street?” He asks. I nod. “So why aren’t you already over there with them? I would think you young’ns would want to party it up all night.” He chuckles.
“I’m not really that type.” I scoff.
“But you know how to dress for it.” He gestures to my hoop earrings and high heels.
“It’s complicated.” I sigh.
He nods understandably, “You’re running away.”
His words punch me in the gut, “I guess that’s a good way to put it.” I whisper.
“I’m sorry, it’s none of my buisness.” he apologizes quickly.
“It’s the truth.” I sigh and kick off my heels. “But it's better than being half alive.”
He laughs, “Have you ever thought of dealing with it?”
I bite my lip, “I guess I never thought of that as an option."
"I don't know what your situation is, but in my experience, the longer you run, the harder it becomes. Some advice?" He leans forward. "Don't be afraid to love again. There is more in this world than pain and heartache, there are things that are worth fighting for."
"Thank you." I say softly.
"Speaking of love, that fellow over there has been staring at you ever since I sat down." He winks, "You might want to reassure him that you're not on a date."
I laugh and for the first time since I can remember, I can feel my heart beat again.
"Hey, Scott." I say walking over to a handsome man at the next table.
"Hey, Andrea, who was that?"
I smile at the old man, who winks at me, "A friend. He just helped me wake up."
Magic Dust
When the
Light
Comes through
The window
It
Illuminates
Everything it
Touches
I see
Specks
In the air
Flying,
Floating,
Searching for
Somewhere
To settle
Dust
Travels to places
You will
Never see
As particles
Meet
They tell
Stories about
Places they’ve
Been
Things they’ve
Heard or
Peculiar things
They’ve seen
Dust
Dances in the
Air
Sometimes,
You don’t know
It’s there
Looking at it
In the
Light it
Appears like
Magic
Flying
Floating
Each speck tells a
Story
If you
Listen
Close
You can
Hear them
Whispering
Accepting Fate
Scrambling to fight
To ward off the coming defeat
I anticipated the light coming
Why am I not ready to surrender?
To accept my fate?
I should have fought longer
I should have tried harder
The light was taking over
I loathed the brightness
Exposing all of my secrets
I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide
If I faced the glare
Now there is no choice
I will have to accept
Struggling I will go
But I can not win
I know.
Someone to Lose
Scared that
Any moment
Could be
Earth shaking
Never knowing
If she'll be staying
Never knowing
What's going to happen
Scrambling for more time
What if you never see him again?
Your mind races
With questions and doubts.
Why do you grasp in the air
For answers you know aren't there?
What will happen tomorrow?
Will there be terrible news?
She's not coming back
He's left and gone
Shaking in my shoes
Is this what it feels like
To have someone
To lose?
Sunrise
The sunrise is really quite beautiful, just look and see
The dark night sky slowly becomes brighter
The stars disappearing one by one and the moon vanishes from sight.
The sky becomes full of color and a wonderous painting
Pink, purple, blue, they weave in and out of clouds
And the clouds! Oh beautiful white clouds!
They sore in the sky coming into view as wonderful white puffs
And as the sun comes up in all it's glory,
The clear blue sky takes over, bringing forth a new day
Just take a look and see, all you need to do is get up early
Writer’s Block
The white page stares like unblinking eyes.
I reach for my pencil, but it won’t write.
Trying to wake my brain, but it just stays sleeping.
Why won’t the words come flowing?
Ten minutes later, the page is still staring.
Blank and empty, no mark made.
The flawless white surface perfect and crisp.
Maybe that’s why my pen is held still
Afraid to mess up this page with meaningless sentences
Afraid to blemish it with a spot of ink
Afraid to see what my heart thinks
Afraid to venture into the unknown
Where critics roam.
Scared that if I miss a mark,
A word, a phrase,
That if I choose the wrong word
They’ll hunt me down and tear my ink filled page apart
Tear it apart with remarks
Re-make it to where it’s not mine
But a work of someone who is scared to own
Own what she did, what he made
Own to the mistake and the lessoned learned
Own to the unfinished masterpiece still in their hands
Afraid to open up and reveal their opinions and lives.
The page still stands without a crinkle or a spot
Still waiting for you to decide whether or not
You will step out with courage
You will choose to crinkle and blot
You will choose to shrug and turn your head
To the ugly remarks that still your pen
You think Shakespeare got it on the first try?
Go back in history and see how many people say
“It just hit me”
Without a million rewrites
It stands here, waiting on you, to fill
The page with you, not someone else
The critics may ramp and rage
But you keep writing all your days
So that one day you can stop and see
That you did finish your masterpiece
And the rewrites made it better
The critics made it sharper
The laboring was worth it
When you see you finally filled the page
You picked up your pen courageously
Step into the unknown, my friend
You’ll find that your own mind is the threat
Your own thinking stalls your pen.
Keeps your words from flowing on the page
From inspiring someone to keep fighting
From encouraging someone that they can go another day
They stay for a lifetime, on that crinkled page
Full of imperfections but also so flawless
Because you can own it
You can say
I wrote that
That is all worth it.
Holding My Breath
I hold my breath. The footsteps grow louder. I peer out of a crack in the wardrobe, which makes my hiding place. I see nothing but a faint outline of a black coat. I hear words, spoken softly and eerily. More footsteps.
How did I get in this mess? I rebuke myself. I should never have wandered into an abandoned warehouse. I should never have taken the dare; but how could I have known that there were outlaws hiding in the place? It seemed empty, noiseless. Nobody was home. All I had to do is go inside and bring something out, simple; but I had to try to scare my gittery friends.
The cobwebs and dust makes my nose itch. I struggle to hold in the sneeze that threatens to erupt and break the tense silence. More voices, slow and creepy.
I hold my breath.
Just as I was going to sneak back out, the robbers opened the door and I knew there was trouble, for I could see all three of my nervous, satisfied friends out of a window.
I bite my lip as I hear something skitter across the floor in front of me.
I had to pick this dusty wardrobe in a back room to hide in. Why? No one will ever know.
I hear the voices once more, louder. I hear a scraping noise and take a cautious look out of the crack.
Three men in black, taking off masks and jackets pry open a crate that i hadn’t noticed before. They pull out something. A briefcase? One man steps in front and opens the case and pulls out….. A gun!
I hold my breath.
One by one the smugglers pull out weaponry from various containers. Jars, suitcases, backpacks, anything you could think of.
My body grows more tense, for now more than ever am I determined to stay still and silent.
Then, the dust gets the better of me.
Achoo!
The men stop. One barks an order to another to open the wardrobe.
I hold my breath.
I want to disappear, i try to shrink, to camouflage into the wood of the piece of furniture.
“What have we here?” The man sneers with evil eyes.
“A boy? How old are you ten?” The other teases.
I’m thirteen I correct in my mind, not daring to speak out loud.
“Shut it, boys.” the last one commands, apparently the leader, “How long have you been hiding in there?” He inquires with suspicious eyes.
My tongue fails me. If I claim that I just got here they won’t believe me, if I tell them I’ve been here since they arrived, they’ll shoot me on the spot.
I hold my breath.
“Speak up, boy.” He growls taking hold of my shoulders.
“Um, I, uh.” I stammer, “Don’t have a watch, I can’t give you a time.” I blurt out nervously, trying to laugh.
“Then estimate.” The man stares into my eyes threateningly.
“Maybe, twenty minutes.” I barely whisper and bite my lip.
“Tie him up.” He says to his henchmen, “He’s seen our faces and our inventory.” He then turns to me with a sinister smile, “You’ll give us a chance to try out our new toys.” He chuckles evilly, leaving me shaking in my worn out tennis shoes, helpless against the strong grown men that grab me.
I ask myself once more, How did I get into this mess? I pray that my companions will sense that something is wrong, hopefully, if they aren’t too dumb to notice.
“Check the perimeter.” The leader orders one of the men.
I inwardly groan. I don’t find much hope in the future of my three friends and I.
A few minutes later, the henchman comes back to report that the area is deserted all around.
I almost groan aloud. My ‘friends’, as they call themselves, have left me here to die. They’ll be sorry for it when they find my dead body I morn to myself.
The leader grins, “Good. Boys, grab a weapon.” He reveals a table full of various guns.
I start to shake again.
I get a flash movie of my entire life while the leader carefully looks at the table.
I swallow and try not to cry aloud while he choses a shiny black pistol.
The others take their pick and my mind goes foggy.
Memories zoom through my mind. My breath begins to come in short gasps.
The men load their guns. I close my eyes as I feel the cool metal against my head.
I hold my breath.
Suddenly, out of the silence, comes a crash. I open my eyes surprised.
The crooks stay still for a moment, not knowing what to expect. I wait in suspense with the cold metal gun pointed at me. The other men freeze, staring at their boss in terror. The silence holds us all. Holds me in fear, hope, and anxiousness.
The door comes down with crash. I jump away from the gun in an instant.
“Put your weapons down, it’s the police.” A voice barks through a megaphone.
My body goes limp with relief. The men hold their guns up for a little longer, not willing to give up. The police storm in the room. They stare down the smugglers.
My body tenses again, waiting for the men to stand down.
Finally, the villains, seeing that they are outnumbered, give up. They carefully put their weapons on the floor and succumb to the police. I stand up on my wobbly legs and let a police officer lead me outside where, to my surprise, my friends are waiting for me.
“David! We waited out here and you didn’t come out, we knew something was wrong.” My friend James explains, “We went and got the police.”
“Thank goodness you did boys.” The police officer says gravely, “These are some of the most known weapons smugglers. They are dangerous.”
“Don’t I know it!” I exclaim, shuddering, “I think I’ll go home now. If you don’t see me, I’m recovering.” Finally, I stop holding my breath.
Spring
What is spring?
Spring is when the world comes out of hiding.
Spring is when the world comes out of it's winter gloom.
It's when the trees awaken and burst out in full bloom.
Spring is when the world explodes with color and puts on it's finest dress.
It's when the world looks it's very best.
The nectarine tree with it's delicate peach colored flowers.
And the peach with it's powerful purple blossoms.
Spring is when the grass goes from brown to green.
And the meadows are filled with glee.
Little tiny buds burst out everywhere.
Blue, green, white, purple there is color to spare.
The ground is soft and silky.
My bare feet love it's feel.
What is spring?
Spring is when the animals peek out of their homes.
It's when the deer have fawns and the blue-birds sing their songs.
Spring is when the bees get busy buzzing from plant to plant.
It's when you can hear all the birds pleasnt chat.
Spring is a gift and a good one too.
Spring is wondeful, I think.
What is spring to you?