"In a Tree"

Some girls fantasize about their crushes. Some chronicle their fantasies and unrequited feelings into their private blogs or those furry little notebooks with that totally secure lock that no one could pick open with a pen or paperclip, ever. Many of these entries are quite poetic, too. As though having a crush on a guy that doesn't know you exist -- or worse, does know you exist but is completely unimpressed -- gives you this new superpower where everything you write sounds like it'd earn a Publitzer. Pulitzer? Whatever, the literary version of a Nobel Prize.

Me?

I fantasize, sure. But not in a hack-able blog or 'hidden' diary -- seriously, who ever thought under the bed or mattress was the perfect hiding spot for the records of private musings? You know where's really private? IN YOUR HEAD. Yup, I take a much more secure approach.

Perched on a tree staring at him as he plays soccer, all the while narrating my thoughts back to myself in my head like JD from 'Scrubs.'

Oh, God, I just heard it...

How creepy is that from one to restraining order?

And I ask this as if anyone is going to answer in my own head. Although I suppose the fact that no one does answer is a good sign. Like there's still hope for me yet, right? I really need to stop asking myself non-rhetorical questions.

Ooh, leg cramp. God, that hurts. How do I climb down again? Let's see, was it this branch that I...?

"WAAAHHH!"

OWW! SON OF A-- DAMMIT. God... Okay. Well, at least I got down.

....

Just in time for the entire team to see me and stare.  Heh, heh... "H-Hi, guys... Great practice?" Oh, God, this is mortifying. They look so creeped out. No, wait, one of them is smiling. Okay, so maybe it's not so...

Wait.

Oh, no.

And now they're all laughing. Hysterically. Yup. I think this would be the best time to RUN.

OWW!! Since when is there a rock there?! Oh, God, did my pants rip? Oh, Jesus-- Oh, okay. Whew, no they didn't...

Although now I'm the girl who checked out her own butt.

Ugh. Kill me.

....

Okay, I don't see them anymore so I think I'm far enough away now. That was humiliating. And I think I sprained my ankle.

Sigh. Why couldn't I just buy a diary?





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N:
:) Okay, guys, I know this excerpt must seem totally random and bizarre, but you have NO IDEA how happy I am that it came out from my fingertips!! A lot of things have been happening -- none of it interesting or eventful, it's been mostly psychological stress/breakdowns and emotional/personal drama -- which have created this MONUMENTAL WRITER'S BLOCK that literally left me unable to complete a SENTENCE of anything for months. Now this excerpt might not be that great, I don't know, I've never written anything from this kind of point of view before, but my point stands that THIS is THE FIRST THING I've been able to get out since graduation!! Sad? A little. But I'm choosing to look at it as a beacon of hope that the huge brick wall on my brain may finally be deconstructing itself.

Cross your fingers for me guys. You have no idea how much I've been losing it at the idea that I might not be able to do this.

Oh, side note: The above character is named Marley. And contrary to (possibly) your first thought, her parents didn't name her after Bob Marley, they named her after the DOG, Marley.

Her life is just that kind.

Journal

I wish some things were different. Not all things, just a few. Like, I wish my mother hadn't moved to California, for instance. I miss her. I still need her from time to time. Dad tries, but... There's only so much a grown man can handle or understand of the mind of a teenaged woman. I don't blame him for that. It's just natural.

I wish Jason never went on his missionary trip for Haiti all those years ago. There was no way to know there was something wrong with the plane, I know, so it would have been selfish of me to ask him to stay. But if he hadn't gone... He'd still be with me.

He used to give me daisies every month, and laugh when the scent made me wiggle my nose. He used to take me to the park where my parents met and watch me dance in the sun. He would brush my hair out of my eyes and tell me something that he loved about me -- and each time it would be something different...

I used to trace his fingers with mine... Feeling amazed at how they could be calloused from work yet soft at the same time...
I used to lie beside him in the grass and listen to all the things he'd do someday...
I remember how the gold in his eyes would flicker with emotion when he talked about his ambitions...
It would also flicker every time he looked at me...

Not all of my wishes deal with me, though. I wish some things were different for my friends, too.

I wish Anna's fiance never cheated on her. She had gone through so much already... I'll never forget the way she looked at me when she found out. I'd never seen her so broken...

I wish Aaron could have found his mom before she died. He had wanted nothing but to meet the woman who loved him enough to give him a chance at life... despite the circumstances of his conception.

I don't want everything to be different, though. There are some things I'm glad are different. For instance, because Mom left, Dad quit drinking. He smiles more now, and laughs more now. I love our Thursday night card games... We never had that when Mom was here... There was only fighting.

I'm grateful Jason's sister found a way to cope through her paintings. The images and blends of colors that come from her have made her name famous throughout the world -- with every painting showing another piece of the love she had for her brother.

I'm happy that Aaron and Anna found each other. They were just what the other needed to go through their respective heartaches. It's like magic, seeing them together.

I'm grateful that not everything is different.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I intended to write a personal blog entry into my Xanga but wrote this instead. I guess someone else needed to vent more than I did. I hope I can flesh out her character and find out who she is someday...

Please comment :)

"Criticism Wanted"

This is a piece I wrote back in 2006 and posted into my LiveJournal. I was skimming the old 'Journal recently and came across it. I never named it and the title of the entry was simply "Criticism Wanted", but the truth is: I don't think I've written anything that tops this yet. (Which is sad when you think about it. I'm supposed to get better with time)

I thought I'd repost it here since even I think it's awesome. Might skim old entries of my Xanga to find stories there and do the same. 

Enjoy.

= = = = = = 

I kept my eyes open for her. The hall was flooded with people but I knew she was here somewhere.
There. She was sitting at the table alone, everyone else must've gone to dance.
I headed for her, but someone else stood in my way. It was the brunette from my sixth period.
"C'mon let's dance! I love this song!"
"Actually I was--" but I was already being dragged to the dance floor. The song was fast enough so I decided to humor her.
Wasn't long until I regretted it.
She was dancing way too close and 'wild' for my taste. It seemed pretty clear she wanted all my attention on her. 
The song ended and I gratefully left the dance floor while she was placing in a request.
She was still sitting there. Her fork idly playing with the napkin. She looked up at me as I sat beside her. She quickly directed her gaze back at her fork. "Hey."
"Hey.." I had never seen her in a dress before. The black gown wrapped around her perfectly, her hair down well past her shoulders. She never wore any make-up, which I had always loved since it left her face unmasked, allowing her natural beauty to shine through. Her skin was smooth and clear, and her full lips were a little rosy, she must've been bitting them recently. I could see the flames from the center-piece candles reflected in her dark eyes. "You look beautiful."
She rolled her eyes, her grip on her fork tightening.
"You do."
Her eyes narrowed at me. "Stop it."
I sighed. She never believed any compliment I gave her. She had started playing with her fork again. "We need to talk--"
"Here comes your little friend."
I turn my head to see the brunette heading towards me. She latched onto my arm. "C'mon they're playing my favorite next!" 
"Have fun." She dropped her fork and stood, quickly making her way outside to the balcony.
"Wait!" I shake the brunette off my arm, then rush after her.
She was leaning against the railing, her back turned to me. I stopped a few feet behind her.
"It's not what you think. She just asked me to dance, I'm not--"
"Oh I'm sure that's all it was."
"That is all it was! I got away as fast as I could."
"Oh, I'm sure you did. It's not like you ever had trouble turning away from attractive girls."
My shoulders fell with the weight of her words. I had to swallow hard before I could speak again. "I know I screwed up...but I promise I won't ever make that mistake again...."
She turned with a fierce look in her eyes."You promised never to make it in the first place! How can you be so sure you wouldn't make it again?"
"Do you really think I'd do that again after knowing how much it hurt to lose you?!"
"Oh, I'm sure it hurt alot, what with your ability to endure pain. If you dislocated a shoulder you'd just pop it back in without a single wince!"
"It's not the same thing and you know it!"
"Just do me a favor and spare me the stories." She walked passed me but I grabbed her wrist before she could get away. 
"Would you just listen to me, I--" I must've pulled harder than I thought because she was suddenly against my chest and my arms were around her. She had stiffened, but didn't move. I could smell her shampoo in her hair, and I found myself pulling her closer. She was warm despite the slight chill outside. I hadn't held her in so long... Her soft voice broke through my thoughts.
"You..what?"
I realized I had forgotten what I was going to say. I tried to remember, but I couldn't concentrate on anything but the feeling of her body against mine, the feeling of my arms around her waist. "I don't remember..."
"Oh..." She was slowly relaxing, and soon I felt her arms wrap around me tightly. I felt relief flood my senses as I tightened my hold on her. God how I've missed her touch...
"I love you..." I hugged her as tight as I could. "I love you so much.." I felt my shirt grow wet and I reluctantly pulled back a little. I placed a hand under her chin and gently lifted her face. Her cheeks and nose were pink, and wet from her tears. I wiped her eyes with my thumb as she bit her lip, most likely to fight back more tears.
"I love you too..." Her voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear it. Before I could stop myself I lowered my head and kissed her. It was quick, but it was enough to send my mind spiraling through every moment I had with her... Everything I had lost.
I felt her pull me close and I kissed her again, and this time she responded.
God I had forgotten how soft her lips were. 
She held me tight as we stood there, our lips meeting again and again. I couldn't believe this was happening. That she was here with me after so long.
We pulled away, and I was drawn to those dark eyes I had always lost myself in. She seemed to be as lost in the past as I was.
Suddenly, something sparked in those dark pupils, and she stiffened.
No...No not now.. Please don't remember...
She pulled away, her gaze turned away from mine. Please, no..
"I have to go."
"Wait-" I reached for her hand but missed, and she rushed back through the doors. I went after her, but the doors had closed, blocking my view of her. I threw them open, the noise of thundering music and laughter ripped through the once quiet balcony. No one has had their fill of the night and the hall was filled with hundreds of bodies.
I looked around frantically trying to catch a glipse of her among the masses. I hadn't seen which direction she had gone and felt a sense of panic. I had to find her before--
There! She was closing in on the exit doors at the far end of the hall. I called out to her but my voice was drawn out by the music. My blood ran cold as she opened the doors and ran out. 
I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd, trying to get to her as fast as I could. Then finally I bolted through the doors, my eyes frantically searching the parking lot for her car. She had to have reached it by now.
I kept calling for her, hoping, praying that she'd wait.
To my far right I heard a car roar to life. I ran towards the row of cars where the sound originated, I could see her blue Toyota pulling out of a spot. "Stop!!"
She was accelerating, I called out her name again but she was soon out of my reach. I stood there, breathing hard, as she drove out of the lot.
My chest clenched. I let out a yell and punched the trunk of the nearest car. The car alarm went off, its loud whines ringing through the air, making my heart pound against my ribs. I ran both my hands over my face. 
I lost her... I lost her all over again...

'Powers' Series - Mina

Mina gathered her things and made her way out of her History class. As she reached the door her books slipped through her hands, sending various sheets of paper to flutter around her. Sighing, she tucked the strands of her thick brown hair behind her ear and knelt to gather the mess. 

The other students walked by her-- none offering to help her, none even acknowledging her. Mina brushed it off and continued to place the papers back in their respective notebooks and folders; she hadn't expected anything different. She had only been at this school for a month, and so hadn't gathered the nerve to speak to anyone yet let alone make friends. 

Her father had passed away two months before, she and her mother still haven't recovered from it. Unable to afford the house without him, Mina's aunt, Karen, invited them both to live with her. Karen owned her own bookstore and had plenty of room for them in her apartment upstairs. Mina's mother gratefully accepted. 

While her mother was able to land a job as a waitress at a local Cafe, Mina was unfortunate in her attempts to find a job. Karen then offered her a position in her bookstore, where she could work everyday after school if she liked. Relieved that she can now help her mother with the finances, Mina accepted.

As Mina walked out of the classroom building she glanced at her watch. She had missed the bus but if she took the shortcut home she could still make it in time for work. Walking along the sidewalk leading off campus, Mina found herself behind two girls she recognized as cheerleaders. She slowed her pace, not daring to get too close and risk being spotted. The girls carried on, the Sun's rays shinning in the gold of their hair, their pom-poms bouncing lightly on their waists, with their voices dancing around each sentence.

They seemed to be talking excitedly about something, but she was too far behind them to understand it all. From what she could make out, something had happened during last night's Ballet Recital. 

Before she could hear more, Mina spotted the dirt road that cut through the woods: her fastest way home. Suddenly remembering where she was supposed to be, she drew away from the girls and quickly made her way down the path. 

Her mother never liked it when Mina took this path-- partly because she feared over the possibility of snakes lurking in the bushes --but mainly because once Mina was inside the woods, no one would be able to see her, nor barely hear her. 

But Mina was used to neither being seen or heard.

She walked quickly, but carefully. She had seen rabbits make their homes nearby and didn't wish to frighten them. She heard a rustle, and her gaze landed on a squirrel darting across the path. Mina smiled for the first time that day as a memory of her father reached her. They had always taken a weekly walk through the woods, just the two of them. Her father had always loved to study the animals with her. 

She looked to her wrist on her right hand, and admired her mood bracelet. It was the last gift he ever gave her.

Mina heard another rustle, one too heavy to be the weight of a squirrel or rabbit. She tensed and studied her surroundings. When nothing moved she started on the path again. It wouldn't be long until she reached the end.

She heard the rustle again, louder this time, but before Mina could turn a hand was pressed firmly against her mouth and waist, her books falling around her as she reached up and attempted to free herself from the hold.

She was spun and pinned against a tree. It was a man who was attacking her-- Mina's blood ran cold as she realized what was happening. The man leaned in and began kissing her neck, his body holding her firm against the tree. Tears filled her eyes as she tried desperately to get the man off of her. She could see her bracelet turning an ugly black as he struggled to keep her still. Then, deciding on a better tactic, he pushed her to the ground and pinned her, one hand holding both of hers above her head, the other trying to rip through her jeans. She was crying heavily now, her body struggling under his weight.

"Please don't! No! Please! Let me go!" 

He landed a punch on her right cheek, knocking the fight out of her. Pain seared across Mina's face, causing her to cry harder. 

"Please.... please..." 

He was pulling her jeans down, trying to reposition himself without taking his weight off of her. 

"No..."

His face was wild and ugly, his eyes dark with hunger. Mina's heart raced as she felt her jeans pass her ankles. She sobbed harder as he went over her body... kissing... biting. 

"P-Please...."

She was struggling, but the weight of his body was too much.

"No..."

She felt the world grow dark around her. She looked passed the trees to the sky and realized it had gone black, the Sun completely covered.

"No."

It was starting to thunder.

"No!"

He was reaching for her underwear.

"NO!"

Her eyes snap shut as a blinding light passed her, forcing the man off of her. He flew through the air and landed several yards away. Smoke emitted from his body.

He lay still.

Breathing heavily, Mina lay there a few seconds before slowly sitting up. What had happened? Her legs weak, she crawled toward her jeans and gripped them firmly. Her hands were shaking. Using a tree as a base, she slowly stood, leaning heavily against it. Standing, she had a better view of the man.

His skin was turned white, incredibly so, and emitted smoke as if it were burned.

Mina slowly pulled her jeans back on, the button had been popped off so she had to hold it up herself. 

Keeping a hand on her jeans, she used her other hand to lean against the trees as she slowly walked closer. Why hadn't he moved? Why was there smoke?

It wasn't until she was about twenty feet away that she understood.

Lightning. The man was struck dead by lightning.

But wait... He had been on top of her. Wouldn't she have been struck too? Mina lifted her gaze back to the sky. The thunder had subsided but it was still dark. She closed her eyes and forced herself to think back to what happened:

He was on top of her, pinning her... She cried, pleaded... He ripped off her jeans, and the sky went black--

Wait. Black? Her eyes opened wide and studied the sky again. When she left campus it was sunny, so sunny in fact that the hair on those cheerleaders heads shined. How had the weather changed so suddenly?

She looked down at her bracelet, it was slowly returning to the shade of blue it had been before the attack. It had been black during the struggle.

Then she remembered. 

When the man attacked her, Mina grew increasingly stressed, angry, and terrified. Her bracelet changed colors to reflect that. 

Had the weather...? 

Mina looked upwards and saw that just as her bracelet changed back, the clouds dispersed and the Sun shined brightly again.

It couldn't be... Could it?

When she screamed she remembered feeling something rush past her. She remembered moving the object away from her and toward the attacker.

Was the thing she moved the... the lightning?

Quickly gathering her things, Mina ran out of the woods in the direction of home.

What was she?

'Powers' Series - Genn

Genn carefully placed the last flower in her hair, pinning it down gently with the hair clip. A smile lit her face as she placed her hand on her stomach, butterflies. It was the night of the big recital, the one she had been preparing for all year. She took a breath, taking in every detail of the moment.

Her wavy blond hair was up in a tight bun, with a few loose curls framing her cheeks, flowers and glitter adorned her hair, her hazel-green eyes were shining. She was dressed and ready for her solo, her small pink tutu flowing around her waist. Her piece was not for another ten minutes, but her excitement had gotten the better of her.

A solo.

Since she was seven, Genn had dreamed of nothing but becoming a ballerina. For years she studied under Madame Miel's care, giving it her all in hopes of earning the solo-role in Madame's annual ballet recital.

Now, finally, she had grown enough in strength, body, and skill to earn the role. This was her night.

As the sound of an audience applauding reached her ears, she knew the previous dancers had finished their piece. The curtain would fall, there would be a few quick changes in scenery and props, and then it would be her turn.

Genn takes another breath, her smile growing, before turning to face where she would make her entrance from Stage Left.

Madame was standing by the curtain, out of sight of the audience, waving her over.
Wings fluttered in her stomach as Genn walked over, her steps not making a sound on the floor. Madame Miel rests a hand on Genn's shoulder, and plants a soft kiss on her cheek-- her traditional way of wishing each performer good luck.

Genn walks to Center Stage and takes her stance. The curtain rises and the music is cued.
Moving with a grace surely no one suspected she had, Genn went through the movements with the ease she would have writing her name. She knew every beat, every note, every pose, and every jump. She had prepared for this moment her whole life.

When she heard a gasp from the audience she believed it was from the precision of her landing, the movement of her arms; she continued to dance.

But there were more, and voices dripping with concern were growing out from the darkness of the aundience. She heard Madame call her name, there was fear in her voice.

The music stopped, and so did Genn. The lights were flipped on, revealing close to 400 people staring at her, terrified.

What was wrong? She had done everything as taught. She turns to see Madame walking toward her cautiously.
"Genn?...Genn?"
"What is it?" She asked. "What did I do wr--" but she could not finish her sentence. She had looked passed Madame to the mirror that was resting against the wall Backstage.
A gasp escapes Genn's lips as she tried hard not to faint.

Inside that mirror: she saw her beautiful tutu, the shining white flowers, and her pink slippers...
but Genn, herself, was not in the reflection.



---------

This is another character I'm working on. She will be a part of a fantasy story I am trying to develop where teenagers discover themselves to have unusual powers with no apparent cause. This is my idea so far as to how Genn discovers her power-- invisibility.
While I would like feedback on this I have to explain that this excerpt does need some work. I am not familiar with ballet and so do not know the appropriate terms. I plan to research this and learn more-- so as to properly write this character and this scene-- during the summer when I have more time.

(untitled)

She stared at the foam cup in her hands, the milkshake had long since melted, the whipped cream sinking into the mix. She had been sitting there for about an hour, her eyes unfocused.
She had ran what she was going to say over and over in her mind all last night, but now could not remember a word of it.
She had felt scared, nervous, and restless all last night, but now felt nothing.
The waiter had asked her earlier if anything was wrong with her order, as she had sat for so long without touching it, but now left her to her thoughts as the day was slow and so there was no real need for the table.
Her eyes finally left the melted beverage and landed on her wrist.
Ten minutes until he would arrive.
She looked through the window towards the light traffic.
It had been ten years since she had seen him last.
Would he really have changed during that time?

He was violent, posessive, and quick-tempered. Nothing her mother ever did would satisfy him.
He drank.
Yes, he drank too much. And every night he came home with that look in his eyes she was struck with the fear of whether that night was her mother's last.

They had escaped from his hold.
Had left and started new lives.
But the damage to her mother was done.
She had suffered too many wounds, too many scars, that her body physically and mentally shut down.
No doctor, no therapist, could save her.
That was three years ago.

And now he had found her again.
A changed man, so he said.
He had his share of rough times when she and her mother left.
But he fixed himself up.
Made a good man out of himself.
A man worthy to be her father, so he said.

She somehow agreed to meet him.
Meet him at this dinner, on this day, in just a few minutes.

She didn't know what to hope for, if she should hope for anything.
She closed her eyes and bowed her head, breathing deeply.

A small bell rang through the silence as the door of the dinner opened.
As footsteps approached, she opened her eyes.

Right on time.



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Please comment.