Monthly Archives: October 2011

The Looking Glass-Part One

This is my first try at a mystery/suspense. What do you think?

She left the ballroom to find a little room to herself. She was feeling very claustrophobic is the huge ballroom. The corset was tight on her and made every breath even harder to take. She strolled slowly down the long corridor. The first room she opened was filled with a lot of men. She shut the door quickly and wanders further down the empty hall.

The last door on the left opened as if by its own accord. Feeling extremely on edge, she peeked around the open door. The room was empty. Not really thinking, she enters the room with baby steps. As she enters the room completely, she sees a looking glass that shows her completely from head to toe.

Her long, fire red hair is pulled into a lose bun. The ivory gown touches the floor so you cannot see the pearl whiteness of her legs. Her sapphire colored eyes blink as she looks behind her reflection. Was that a  man she just passing through the doorway. She turns her head. There’s nobody standing there.

The young woman turns to face the looking glass once again. She sees a stain at the bottom of her dress. “Where did that come from,” she wonders to herself. As she looks down at the stain, a movement in the corner catches her eyes.

She turns around to look at the corner. On the near the door, there is some kind of fluid. She walks towards the fluid on the floor. The light from the hall luminates  the bright red color. She sees a small movement behind the door. She screams as another woman falls towards her and lands on the floor.  The knife in her heart a sure sign that she was dead. The young woman, Gabrielle, faints dead to the floor.

To be continued…….

My Voice

Have you found your voice? I think I have.

I’ve found my voice. For a long time, I didn’t that I had a voice. I used to think to myself, but never voice what I was thinking. I used to let others speak for me or at least they thought they were. Amazingly, those people were so far off. I just never thought of using my own voice.

A lot of time, I just keep what I’m thinking to myself. Nobody want to hear what I think, or so I would tell myself. Once someone said what they thought I wanted to say. Thats when I realized that I’d have to use my own voice. So I spoke outloud. Since I’ve found my voice, I haven’t stopped talking.

The Most Amazing Woman!

There is only one simple thing to say about this piece. I love my mom.

Of all the people I know, my mom is the most amazing person I know. I came way too close to losing her in the past few years. My mom had a double lung transplant on December 7, 2009. Then she had a horrible reaction to a medication. In a space of four months, my mom lost over 37 pounds. The medication had basically shut her body down. She was unable to communicate, and we almost lost her.

Today, my mom is doing great. She is helping others understand lung transplants. I have put my mom through hell with some of the choices I have made. However, she loves me anyways.  This is just one reason she is the most amazing person I know.

Bedtime Routine

Sometimes it seems like our life is so routine. Even bedtime becomes a routine. This is what I do. What about you?

Before I go to bed, I look around me. So many different people, different noises and things to see. The sky is so full of starts. The dark sky begins to swallow me into it. The stars like hundreds of little headlights all around me. I try to separate myself from the darkness. I fight the fatigueness of my eyes. I struggle to keep my eyes open. I don’t want to forget this wonderful, beautiful night. I begin to lose the fight with my eyes as they close. oh well, maybe I will last longer tomorrow night.

Our backpacks

This is me just shooting from the hip, so to say. Yesterday while I was laying down because I am still recovering from the stomach flu, this thought came to me. I hope it make sense.This is completely unedited and just me.

When I started kindergarten, I really didn’t take much to school with me. I didn’t even need a lunch box, because back then, we were given free lunch even if we didn’t sign up for it. The load was light and easy to carry.

However,  I found in about third or fourth grade, my back got heavy.  Then in junior high, wow, was it too much? I asked myself that a lot of time. Between periods, we would throw our homework and books in our lockers and go to the next class. By the end of the day, I had seven different books.

As I graduated from junior high into high school, I still had seven different books, only they were much thicker and bigger. I’m sure I went through two or three different backpacks my high school years.

When I finally finished high school, I thought maybe the backpacks would get lighter. WRONG!!! I didn’t have as many classes, but these were the books of the rest of my life. Some classes had two or three different books. In college, we only got lockers if we rented them. During those years, I felt like my backpack would break me.

Finally, I graduated college. That meant that I wouldn’t have to worry about backpacks anymore. Right? WRONG!!!! Even though I didn’t carry a literal backpack, I still carried life on my shoulders, in an invisible backpack. There were times, I felt that I couldn’t possibly carry anymore. There were times when I didn’t have many things in my invisible backpack.

At times, that invisible backpack did actually break me. It was hard to carry it at those times. Just because I was broke, didn’t mean that life wouldn’t hand me more to carry in my backpack.

There are times I feel like I am carrying the backpack 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was after I could finally drop that backpack to the ground, that I felt relief.

How many times in life have we felt as if there was so much to carry? How many times have we thought we couldn’t possibly carry another book, burden? Mainly how many times do we wish we could go back to grade school and just have that backpack.

The Rings

This is just a quick write. I had 8 minutes to make something up. This is what I came up with.

The phone rang three times. The loud, shrilling shriek of the ringer jolted her awake. She stumbles out of bed. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she trips over her high heeled shoes. Darn it, I should have put those in my closet tonight, she thinks to herself. Continuing to find her way thru the darkness, the phone shrieks again. “okay okay,” she shouts. I almost there. Oops, I forgot to keep the door open, she mumbles to herself as she bangs her body into the door.

Down the long hallway, she swears to herself, I’m going to get a phone in my room, or at least a cordless phone. She makes it to the phone, picks it up mid-ring. Hello she whispers. Man missed the call. If it’s important they will call back.

This time

To some extent this is about me. Many abuse women always hope that this time it will be different.

He was really angry, ranting and going on. I really thought I was going to feel it bad this time. Last time, he broke my wrist, the time before that 2 ribs. What would he break this time. I couldn’t remember why he was even angry. What did I do wrong this time.

He closed his eyes, really squeezed them shut. When he opened them, I could see that the smoke cleared from his eyes. Now, they were the beautiful blue eyes I had fallen for. The same blue eyes I saw when I looked at our two year old son. His fists clenched tight, then opened. He looked at me and said he was sorry. As he walked away, I thought to myself maybe, just maybe this time it would end differently.