An Eternal Hug
She stares into the midnight sky
And for the last time takes in what she sees
Night is the only time she feels peace
And harmony in this hateful world
She feels the love can be
And the love that refuses to show
The kisses that were refused
And the hugs that were never given
She’s has her fill of the night
And goes into her room
Her peace is shaken as memories
Of neglect and hate flood toward her
She knows that what she is about to do
Is, for her, the right decision
She looks intently at the one thing
That will free her of her pain
The inviting rope beckons,
Calls to her
Saying words only she could hear
It kissed her cheeks and finally her neck
Then darkness embraces her
In an Eternal hug
A peculiar girl
Angie Beaman.
A peculiar girl.
The outcast, the one
Unnoticed by many.
Overlooked at the lunch table,
She eats alone.
Smart but silent.
Dead.
Mother cries the story:
How Angie acted that night,
How she cleaned the kitchen
Until the floor shone.
Her room was spotless,
Her clothes neatly folded.
Her pale hand on mom’s
Cheek as she softly says,
“I love you, Mama.
I always will.”
Mama finding her
the next morning,
hanging from her showerhead.
Students hug and cry,
As if they knew her:
Infuriating the people that did.
What Angie did was wrong,
But she deserves this attention
She never got.
Wonder
Peace
Quiet
Not a single sound except
The breeze dancing through
The tall grass and tops of trees
Such beauty and stillness over
The mirror-like lake.
One of the few last wonders
In the confusing world
The Rain Grew Stronger and the Sea Rougher as the Night Progressed
A slight drizzle at first
Making as soft a noise
As water dripping from the faucet
A calm, relaxing pitter-patter
On the roofs of houses
Then the steady beat grows
Louder
Faster
Louder
Faster!
Thunder roaring in the mountains
Lightning brighting the night sky
As if the sun is battling its way to
Light up the world again
The sea started to whisper
Then talk
Then shout!
Furiously thrashing its limbs
And destroying all in its way.
The night passeds slowly.
No one could sleep.
They wonder if they sleep,
they ever wake again.
School Shooting Monologue
I should have never ended up this way. Come to think of it, no one who has gone through the same predicament I did should ever end up this way. But I got pushed. Literally. Too many times to count. And shoved. Punched. Kicked. Mugged. Teased. Avoided….the works. I don’t know what I did. I don’t even know how it all started. All I know is that I got pushed physically and now I’m pushed mentally. If only one certain event didn’t happed, I wouldn’t have snapped and so many people wouldn’t be dead.
I was about to get dressed after PE when I noticed that something wasn’t right. Something didn’t smell right. I opened my locker and hanging on the back-pack hook was a dead rat, slowly swinging…back and forth…back and forth. i jumped back, disgusted, and right behind me was Billy Olsen, laughing while his perfect white teeth seemed to glow.
“Hey! Is that a friend of yours?” he scoffed.
I picked up my street shoe and immediately regretted it. Thick, red, oozy goo ran down my arm. I realized after a moment that it was blood. I looked at the rat: its throat had been slashed. I don’t know when they found the time to do it, but at that moment I felt my mind go blank. All that was around me were the faces of people laughing hysterically. At me. At the dead rat. At my shoe. At the blood dripping from my fingertips. I walked out the locker room in a zombie trance, leaving confused faces staring after me.
I walked into my house, making my way to the table-drawer at the top of the stairway. I pulled the drawer open, it squeaked a little, and under a load of old mail was a black pistol. I picked it up slowly. It felt cold and dangerous in my hand, yet powerful. I felt a thrill of frightened excitement run through me as I disengaged the safety. I have never felt so much control in my life.
I made it back to school in time for my last period class. But I wouldn’t be going to it. No…I would be going around the school, making the people who put me through hell and torture go through worse than I ever had. And what luck I had! The first random class I entered I entered had Billy Olsen…right in the front row. I walked in.
“Excuse me. sir!” I heard the teacher say. “I am teaching a class!” BANG!
“Not anymore,” I smirked. I pointed the gun at Billy, the crusted blood around my arm chipping off on his desk. He looked at me, fear in his eyes, which was quite satisfying to me.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked. BANG!
“It’s a little too late for that I’m afraid.” I walked out of classroom, leaving screams and looks of fear behind me this time. I entered another classroom: BANG! Another: BANG! And soon, just as I had lost count of how many times I got beat up, I lost track of how many people I shot.
Soon, I felt reality hit me. I was no longer in control of the weapon: it was in control of me. I suddenly realized what I had done. I looked around me: people were running all over, crying, screaming, and trying to hide…FROM ME! I felt as if I were awaking from a dream: an eerily satifying dream. But I felt the pressure of the situation overwhelm me. I started to panic…my breath came faster and faster, feeling like I had gotted the worst punch in the stomach ever imagined. I gripped my hand around the gun cry…no sob for all the lives I took and the look on their faces as I was about to pull the trigger. I ran to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t know who I was or what I had become. I didn’t look as tough as I felt ten minutes ago. And now I’m here…looking at myself…gun in hand…hand moving toward head…one last final BANG!
In a way, it was destiny
It’s a funny word: Destiny. I was never a believer of that word. But things have changed. if it was for the better, I don’t know yet. But hopefully soon I will know.
I think it all started about six months ago: the day I found out that I was afraid of my shadow. I was walking in the busy streets of New York when I noticed it. The way it followed me. It mimicked my every movement, my every step and no matter how much I tried to get away from it, it followed me, stalking me. I finally found solice in the darkness of my apartment. I lived in darkness. But after a while I realized all of potential dangers of my apartment: the food in my fridge could be poisened, the chips could have magets in them. But I snapped myself out of it. I told myself that I was being silly, that nothing was wrong. but after two more months of this, I started to waver in my conviction.
The beginning of the end for me was when I looked at my reflection. I saw all of the dangers of it. The way that, like my shadow, my reflection followed my every movement. This time was worse, though. I could SEE the person mocking me. She wouldn’t leave. She was everywhere I looked and went. I couldn’t take it anymore! I punched the glass, my knuckles breaking and glass sticking into my flesh. I heard a knock at my door. I ran over and said hysterically,
“I know what you’re up to! You’re all against me!”
“Alanna!” a voice said. “It’s me! Victoria! i’m so worried about you! Please let me in!”
But I knew better. It was not my sister. It was ‘them.’ They were all out for me. I opened the door and attacked the imposter, strangling her until she stopped breathing.
And now I’m here. I guess in a way it was destiny. i was never accepted by society, but i am now. My fellow peers making their home in their padded cells. And I’m among them now. The men in white coats say that I’m sick. But I have never felt better in my life.
Hello Starshine!!!
Hi everyone! This is my fantasic summer blog, filled with all of my writes of my Creative Writing class and stuff in my free time. I put my sweat, blood, tears, heart, soul and other things you don’t want to know about in all of my writes. Please read and comment so I can see your feedback and know what I need to improve on. Peace Out Homedawgs!
