Chapter 3 in my novel

Here is chapter 3..

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Chapter 3
Lift Off

The entire group of people was now aboard the ship, each given their own personal quarters and left to do as they please on the ship. Two of the people on the journey were pilots, each were ex-marines. Dr. Jennings joined them in the cockpit for preparation before they took off. The other 17 passengers just stared at the inside of the ship in awe.

“It’s time to leave captain, prepare for lift off.” Dr. Jennings commanded.
The ships engines began to roar, the sound was deafening. The roof of the building began to open, and the blue sky could be seen above.
The ship then lifted off of the ground and began hovering in the air. It was unlike any space launch in the past, it was much more advanced than those of the early 21st century.
The ship was rising slowly, and it kept gaining speed until it began shaking as it exited Earth’s atmosphere.

Finally the entire ship was still, and slowly cruising through space, leaving the giant, blue ball we call earth behind for good. They were now on their journey, to do something never done by man… They were on their way to colonize another planet. Their course was set for the planet Mars.

The underground canals had been re-worked by NASA robots, to where it was an entirely brand new home on another planet. It would be self-sustainable. There would be experiments that would advance man kind like never before.

Dr. Jennings had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, not a scared feeling, but more an excited one. She had butterflies in her stomach; it was something she hadn’t felt since she was just a high school girl.

She began walking back to her quarters, ready to sleep after an eventful day.
She wanted to just get to the planet and have this trip over with. This was her fifth trip off planet, but she’d never been farther than the moon. She was relieved that advancements were made on the new ship, so they would no longer have to wear those stuffy, uncomfortable space suits, unless they were going off ship.

‘This journey will be successful, we will succeed’ she thought to herself, ‘I will make uncle Lewis proud. It was his dream to colonize Mars and now its coming true.’
She imagined her uncle right there with her, he was saying repeatedly “Miranda, you have done it, your on your way, your going to make something of our family name.”

At least that’s what she imagined he would say, she knew it was unrealistic. Her uncle spent too much time drunk to actually be proud of her accomplishments.
Her parents had died in a plane crash 22 years before. Her uncle had raised her from the time she was six years of age.

Growing up she had longed for someone to show her compassion, or even to tell her “good job!” or “I’m proud of you Miranda.” But she never had anyone.
Then when she was 21 years old, her uncle died of lung cancer, 3 years before a cure could be found. She spent her whole life achieving, without praise. She knew now that it was ridiculous to wish for it, but she craved it.

She reached her quarters and shut the door, and locked it. Slipped into a nightgown, and went to bed. Thinking to herself, “It’ll only be a few weeks before we’re there…”
Then she closed her eyes, and drifted off into slumber.

******************************

Lemme know what you think, and what you believe might happen next?

Love,
Joseph w.

A brief look into Alex

This week, I've decided to post an excerpt from my personal notebooks. These next four (two from this year, two from 2009) pieces give a slight insight into what I've been going through.

I apologize ahead of time for the dark nature of my pieces.


5/24/11

Time upon time, I attempt to find more words to say. Yet I find myself puzzled and wondering, if my words amount to thoughts I wish to display. No matter how much I try, I cannot seem to describe the beauty that I've seen. Perhaps such misery is due to the imperfection that I've been. No, no, no...life now is just moving far too slow, causing me to lie to myself evermore. For all the smiles I display don't accurately amount to how love has left me sore. Still, I try and I try to figure out why I'm being tested so. Yet, I'm afraid I may never know.

-----

2/11/11

Such a boring life I lead. Nothing interesting ever comes to me. It's almost as if the universe and I were never meant to be friends. The universe, and everyone else I've ever met. All is wrong, never right, especially on these idiotic nights. The air is cool and the night is swift and time seems like nothing more than something I've missed. Oh, how I wish the stars would kiss my life with something more exciting. What's wrong is how I wish upon the airplanes that are falling. Surely whenever I do my wishes will never come true. It's just my bad luck to never remake this life anew.

-----

5/24/09

Every time I look towards the heavens my mind turns to grief, now that I realize a happy ending is something I cannot keep. Before my eyes, these visions spread, no longer of Tory and I in her bed. I've forgotten that much... Now, all I see is that dream of her and me in which we were joyful, to say the least. And, it reminds me of how life was that very first day, when nothing mattered and all the problems of the world seemed to drift away. It leaves me so heart broken, knowing nothing will ever be the same... and it brings me to tears, knowing we'll never be together again. I can't help this fate, no matter what I try. I can't seem to get these visions of Tory from my eye. How horrible I feel just knowing the truth, that so much love has been lost in my youth.

-----

4/11/09

What is this feeling? Not even god knows.. I can't stand this, this misery, grief, fatal spirit of which I've been shown. I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I could stop it, but it all ends in tears, jeers, an endless wave of all my fears coming to life before my eyes. I will plead for help, scream for help, and speak my mind, but all to ashes my attempts will lead, because never am I supposed to understand. I love her, L.O.V.E. for her, but will this cause such similar grief? Will this be another dead end? I can't take this, can't stand this uncertainty, this feeling of invisible grief and intangible misery.. I need help. I need counsel. I need something.. or else, I don't know to what actions my mind shall lead.

Fate drives me.
~Alex

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Graduating...

Ciaossu!

The New Logo for L.I.F.!!!!!

Hey guys! Sorry that I haven't been posting lately, but I have been taking multiple exams the last week all leading up to my graduation tomorrow!!! Alex and I will be heading out into the "real world" soon, and it's a bittersweet moment for me. But first off, I would like to introduce the new logo of L.I.F. courtesy of Anora! A very beautiful yet simple design that the bloggers all agreed was fantastic. I would have introduced it sooner, but as I said, I was busy writing poems for graduation. I'm all ready to get the hell out of high school, but I know full well that things only get tougher from here on out. Even as I struggled to enjoyed High School, I have always wondered, how will College be any different? Sure there are no cliques, no restrictions and the freedom to do whatever you want. Nevertheless, there is also bills to pay, for most loans to receive and to pay off, and extremely harder material to learn AND memorize. Not to mention only around 30% of college freshmen finish their first year in college... So I attempted to write a poem to ease my pain, and the words from soul failed to piece together on a white sheet. Then, while reading a poem of my good friendand fellow blogger Alex, I had an epiphany on what I was doing wrong, and now, you guys will be the first to read it! Here is my last post as a Senior of Mill Creek High School, I hope you enjoy it!

Monologue of a Pessimistic



Listen as I recall

The life I attempt to control.
The trials it has faced,
The lessons it has learned.
From the moment I opened my eyes.
To the sound of my first cry.
As I took that first step on my feet,
I slowly walked towards a painful street.
From the bouncing and moving across the states,
To the fading of innocence from my youthful brain.
This life slowly left the control,
Of my hands that only wish to hold.
Death began to crowd my life,
Yet I remain deaf to the fat lady’s song.
So from rope swing my friend’s stories,
While the pieces to my own were no where to be found.
Placing my hope in love to save my soul,
In a girl with a heart more unstable then my own.
I cost her her life, in return she took my heart,
And love showed its highs and lows.
On and on I walked,
Searching for the pieces I never owned.
Failing to opening back up,
And dreaming without a happy thought.
Nearly falling into the bloody requiem,
Fire burning away the memories of my heart.
Yet the fire still dies out,
Leaving sweet snow in its wake.
Snow to let me cover up burns,
But only adds hurt to injury.
My deaf ears still refuse to listen,
Because of friends long and gone.
The pain continues to pile,
While the secrets remain to torture.
The thought of never being able to feel worthwhile,
Or the nightmare of never telling her my feelings.
The solace I must find in loneliness,
While surrounded by a million people.
Down I fall an empty hall,
Into a mirrored wall grand and tall.
The Wall reflects all pain at once,
And plays it back as a dead man’s song.
“I won’t listen, I refuse!
My ears no longer listen!”
Why do that, you silly boy,
No wonder you can’t hear those kids whispers.
Listening for the whispers,
I stare on pass,
Where I entered this dungeon.
To find my friends, my comrades,
All chasing behind.
I’m running away from pain,
From death, from acceptance,
All because it was never what I wanted.
Little did I realize that what I wanted,
Was always standing behind it.
I was looking for the final pieces,
But you can make a picture without them.
I was dreaming a sweet nightmare,
But I always wake up from it.
I could never make up a story,
Because I forgot I only write them.
And now that my pieces are together,
And my story is a nice one,
I can tell you now with some confidence,

That your real world isn’t mine sir.

===============================================

What did you think? I think this poem was a lot different from my other poems. Not only in style, but I feel it really shows how I have not so much grown, but changed over the years. I mean this in terms of my writing style, my diction(although very limitly), and in character. I hope you guys enjoyed it! And to the Class of 2011, CONGRATULATIONS, And never forget to Always Put Life Into Words!!!!!!!!

~Quinton

A New Beginning Chapter 2

Hey guys, a little late this week, I know...
But here is chapter 2. Lemme know what you think!


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Chapter 2
A Temporary Home

Bruce kept an expressionless face as he pulled up to the gates of the
Kennedy Space Center, he showed the pass card that Dr. Jennings had given him.
Dr. Jennings was the head of NASA, she was a beautiful, intelligent, and impressive woman. She had done so much in her life, and she was only 28 years old. Bruce was intimidated by her beyond belief, for he himself was 26 years old, and had accomplished nothing.

He parked his car and got out, and began walking toward the main entrance of the building, where he once again showed the guards his pass card. An attendant showed him the way to a room labeled “Briefing.” He entered the room. It was filled with 9 women, and 9 men. They were all waiting silently, almost in fear. Bruce was wondering what was going to happen next.

This trip had been in the plans for 3 years now, and these had to be the other people that Dr. Jennings had told him about, all great candidates for the trip.
Bruce sat there and studied everyone in the room attentively, when he noticed that next to him there was a very strong looking, dark skinned man, He had a shaved head and looked to be close to 30 years old.

The man took notice that Bruce was staring at him, and he gave a grin and extended his hand saying “The names Will, William Jamison.” Bruce was a little hesitant shaking his hand, because growing up he had never had much contact with black people, but he felt he should give someone a chance, since it is The New Beginning. “Bruce Lawson” he replied as he shook the dark man’s hand.

“Where are you from?” Inquired Bruce.

“I’m from Indianapolis” Replied the man, “How about yourself?”

“Tampa” said Bruce quietly trying not to be to open to conversation.

“This journey Is a wonderful thing for the people here, it truly is going to be a fresh start for these people, a way to escape the things we don’t want to remember, but cannot forget.” Will said proudly.
“Indeed, I find it pretty crazy how…” replied Bruce as he was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and in walked Dr. Jennings.
She was about 5’8 inches tall, with dark brown hair, and sparkling blue eyes.
She immediately went to the podium in the middle of the room, as everyone began sitting up properly in their chairs.

She began to speak. “Sorry to keep you all waiting, I had a lot of final preparations to make before the journey, but I am here now, so lets begin.”
Bruce was in awe of her beauty and grace as she addressed the group of people.

“You are the selected group of people, chosen specifically for character traits, abilities and for the fact that you are all willing to make this journey. You all have little to risk, but you have much to gain from this. And we here at NASA thank you for this. Although it’s dangerous, you are risking your lives. That is why I too am going on this journey. If you are to survive you are going to need someone who knows everything necessary for the journey. We have doctors, construction men, gardeners, farmers, soldiers, and scientists. All are key to our survival in this new home.”

Bruce was enthralled in this whole speech, not that it was anything special, but Dr. Jennings just had a way of speaking, that kept you interested in what she was saying.
Suddenly he realized she was leaving the podium and everyone was following her.
“I must’ve been day dreaming through the end of the speech.” He said quietly to himself as he started following the crowd.

They walked down a long dark tunnel, until they reached the end. It went out into an enormous room, and in the middle sat a piece of machinery like no other, a spacecraft, it was easily ten stories high, it was silver with a flat, round shaped top that had a fin-like thing sticking out of the top. It was something you might see in a movie from the early part of the century, it looked completely out dated to the current sci-fi films, which were so unbelievably un-realistic.
Dr. Jennings looked at the group and said allowed, “Meet your temporary home, Exodus1”

***************************************************************8



Love,
Joseph W.

Life brings hope

Here's another poem to end this weekend. I hope you enjoy it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Chances

Close my eyes,
Count to three.
Tragedy will come...
One
Two
Three

Amidst the darkness,
I see her.
Among the blackness,
no one shines brighter.

She smiles,
I return the glance.
Her eyes stare back,
I wonder if I'd have a chance.

My hand reaches out
To gain hers
If she'd permit.
But she solely stares
With green eyes so fare
My heart jumps in a fit.

So softly I whisper
"Why?"
And her lips return
"Why not?"

Her laugh cuts
The darkness in two.
As a bright light fills,
Remakes, the space anew.

Suddenly
She is next to me.
Suddenly
I'm able to see.

I hadn't won;
Darkness had fled.
What I gained
Was love instead.

Open my eyes.
Count to three.
Believe hard enough;
I'll escape a tragedy.

Fate drives me.
~Alex

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Where it all ends, something begins

Hey everyone.

As those closest to me may know, my girlfriend and I broke up. For this past week I've been a wreck and unable to write for the most part. My feelings for her are something I've never felt before so intensely. Only time will tell if everything will get better. This week's poem is appropriately named for what will be my biggest helper.

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

Time

 The space in between lines
     amount to all the tears
          between these complex times.
My eyes drip liquid wonder
     as these last few moments
          time now begins to plunder.

These thoughts.
          These crimes.
     These tortuous rhymes.
Escaping fate
          is not a gift
     but something to lift
          each thought
     of who I'm not.

Such random concepts.
I wish the world would
     give me a hint.
For it seems
     that I can't grasp
          the inspiration before my eyes.
Every part of this life
    is a blurry mess now
          since love has gained my heart.

Fate drives me.
~Alex

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Skye Dreams Again

I have good new again. Donivon Hineron Skye from last week's post continues to dream strangely in this week's continuation. I know not much story is currently happening but some things take longer than others no? And didn't some once say all good things come to those who wait?

Skye

Donivon found himself laying in the dirt. Trees stretched toward the sky, their branches reaching for sunlight. Small patches of blue peered through the massive wall of green. Donivon stood up. He was exhausted. His feet felt like lead. His head felt heavy. His breathing was instinctively fast, but he slowed it down.

There was nothing, just trees, moss, and some other foliage. Leaves rustled behind him. He turned. Again, there was nothing.

Donivon walked. After hours of passing tree after tree, a path appeared. There was no one in sight but foot prints clearly made their way in on distinctive direction. Donivon decided to follow them. A low rumble came from behind. Slowly, the noise grew louder. It began to sound more like an engine and less like a rumble. 

Donivon turned around. A truck was speeding down the path. It seemed too big for the path and the trees seemed to bend up around it, making room for it. Its red rusted side was ready to fall apart but the glistening hood claimed to be of lesser age. 

~~~

I know this story is coming together in short spurts. I know this is likely a disappointing weekly read. And I know, this story so far sucks. But bear with me and realize that this is the very first draft. It is unedited and unchanged from what I wrote on my paper here at home. So, that said, I will take any and all feedback as to editing, story continuation, word change, detail additions (or subtractions), even point of view change. Just don't through me under a buss. ;)

~Anora Anakaya~

Write for freedom:  

Freedom of creation.

Soooo I'm back... With a New Beginning

Hey guys, Joseph W. Here, and I'm finally back from Hiatus... But not with lyrics or poetry... I've been actually writing novels as of late... Because my poetry isn't going so well right now. So here is chapter one of my novel "A New Beginning" which is still being written.

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A New Beginning



Chapter 1
To start an adventure

Bruce Lawson was sitting in his old, beat up Honda Civic. He was parked right outside a house in the middle of a rough looking neighborhood that had the look of what might have once been a beautiful, peaceful place.
Kids were out in the neighbors yard playing, dogs were barking. He remembered how lovely it was to be a kid back in the day.

He opened his car door, feeling quite nostalgic about the little house, remembering days of water gun fights, and “hide and seek”. Those were different days, before worry and responsibility. He slammed the door and began his short walk to the door of the house.

He knocked on the door, and a few moments later a woman who looked to be about 50 or 60 years old greeted him. With a long pause she studied him, looking him over as if he were some riff raff from off the street. Her face became pale for a moment as she gasped, “Bruce?” she said in a hushed tone. “Yes, mother” he replied, “It’s me.”

She opened the door and he stumbled in the doorway awkwardly, and saw the living room where he once sat to watch his cartoons on Saturday mornings.
The blue armchair in the corner, the coffee table in front of the leather couch, the flat screen television. The house seemed so out of date to him, it was not something he was used to. The house had not changed much.

“Would you like some tea? Or coffee? I just baked some cookies. Or…”
“No, mother” he interrupted, “I’m fine, I cannot stay long”
“Oh, well is this about money?” She asked in a rather monotone voice.
“No, But Is father home by any chance?” He asked
“I really need to talk to both of you, its pretty important, and I don’t have much time.”

His mother looked very grim, “Your father doesn’t wish to see you. He’s still not over what happened all those years ago.”
Bruce gave the kind of sad and disappointed look you would expect from a child who is being punished. “I figured” he said “I was in the wrong, and I know that… and that’s… that’s why I’m here mom… I’m leaving.”
“Leaving where Bruce?”
“I can’t really say much mother, I’m not supposed to, but I came to tell you and the family that I love you all, and that I most likely won’t see you again… I came to… make things right.”

At this point his mother became very concerned, “Bruce, what are you talking about? You sound as if you are dying! Is there something wrong?”
“Mom, I really need to go, I love you Mother…” he said calmly as he kissed her on the forehead, and began walking toward the door.
“Bruce Peter Lawson! Tell me what is going on! Please son… Please”
“Mother, I cannot tell you anymore, it is prohibited… Tell father I’m sorry… Goodbye”

Bruce quickly got in the car, and drove off, seeing his mother in the rear view mirror with a confused and sad expression, you could see the lines on her old, yet wise face. He shed a tear as he saw her growing smaller and smaller in the mirror. But he couldn’t think of it any longer, he had a new life ahead of him. His journey was of the utter most Importance. He knew he was risking nothing but his life, And the reward of this risk, could be great.

*********************************


So I'd love to hear your feedback and predictions on what happens next.

Much Love,

Joseph W.

In His Place

Unfortunately Alex has not been feeling well of late. He has asked me to post two of his pieces in his stead. So here is Heartgold and Serenity. 


Heartgold


Here is my heart.
It beats in my chest
Like a bass drum,
Far from heaven,
At the base of my world.

I close my eyes.
I feel the pulse.
So hard does the blood pump
Through my green veins.

So far
I've felt so greedy
To keep such a miraculous muscle
Buried deep
in my cavernous chest.

Now,
you reach out to me.
Look
At those lovely hands that you own.

They've been scarred.
They've been scratched.
And, now,
They hold something more precious
Than those eyes of yours
Which match
The color of my corrupted veins.

Here is my heart.
Hold it gently
As it beats in your lovely hands. 







Serenity

I can hear them
The flapping of the doves' wings
As they fly too high above our heads
To ever be seen

But it's obvious
That they fly
Solely to carry serenity
To our damaged souls

They bring peace
I can feel it in my bones
Any time I'm around you

All of my pain
Leaves my soul
Whenever you're by my side

With such serenity
I know that
Even fate
Shall consider us lucky

~~~

Here is to praying that Alex Azazel Arlington feels better in the coming days. 

Donivon Hineron Skye

Hey all! So in order to keep me writing I am going to post one part of my new story that focuses on dreams. The main character as you may have guessed is named Donivon Hineron Skye. No, his parents didn't like him much to give him the name ''Hineron". Anyway, the whole plot line of this story will be revealed to you as soon as it is revealed to me. I've got no plans for it so we will see where it goes.

Dreams

Donivon Hineron Skye walked down a dirt road. Wind kicked up dust in the wasteland. The sun beat down upon Donivon's back. Donivon staggered. His knee buckled and he fell. He rolled over to his back and spread his arms wide. A car passed on the other side of the road. Donivon squinted and looked into the sun. His vision blurred and all he could see was white and then, everything turned black.

Skye jerked up. Sweat dripped down his temple. His eyes were wide. Skye looked around. Familiar features slowly greeted him: a lamp, a table, his clothes. Calm slowly reentered him. He pulled the sheets off of him and walked down the hall. He found himself going toward the fridge. Drawings cover it: a sketch of the wasteland, his face twisted in anguish, the blinding sun, a girl's face, a child's hand.

Each confused Skye.He drew each, knew every detail, but he didn't know why. Skye stared at the last drawing, the one of a child's hand. He had drawn every detail in, right down to the fingerprints. He followed the lines and curves with his eyes, searching for some meaning. Suddenly, he jerked himself from his trance opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle. He popped the top and drank. The liquid inside was gone in seconds.

~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed it.

~Anora Anakaya~

Bad Circumstances

"For every positive thought, there exists a negative thought."

Lately, my mind has been supercharged with thoughts. Thoughts about the life, philosophy, the universe are coming to me like a speeding rickshaw. Unfortunately, part of me thinks that this inspiration is too much and, consequently, depression has entered back into my happy life.

The phrase that starts this post came to me while thinking about Newton's third law with darkness on the brain. No matter what, I can't seem to shake the truth of such a statement. The unfortunate part for me is the fact that this love I feel may have future consequences, and with every ounce of my being I want to find a way around it.

Life is harsh, so let me put it into words.

This next piece details how rough life can be. Tell me what you think.

"Birthday Wishes"

            “Here she comes,” Greg—an attractive twenty-something year-old with dark hair and slim figure—whispered as heavy footsteps pounded against the floor of the hallway just outside the door. Quickly he slid behind the couch, his heart pounding. Everything had come down to that moment. Whatever would happen would determine whether or not his plan was a failure.

            The eyes of the two others, a boyfriend and girlfriend around the same age, hiding behind the couch with Greg stared at him with fretful worry. “Whatever you do, don’t come out from behind here until I give the signal.”

            “What’s the signal Greggy?” Janice whispered back while nervously fiddling with her long, blond hair.

            “You probably shouldn’t pull so hard on your hair, honey. You’ll rip more of it off,” Jaffery, Janice’s boyfriend, stated coolly.

            “Hush, Jaffery, you’ll gie us away!” Janice scolded. “Now, Greggy. The signal? What is it?”

            “The signal will be: coca-maroo.”

            “Coca-maroo? Why coca-maroo?” The front door began to squeak open slowly, and the footsteps from the hallway became louder as their source entered the apartment.

            “Coca-maroo!” Greg yelled aloud as he jumped up from behind the couch with the two others immediately following. All three of them stood still, with smiles upon their faces, staring at a woman slightly older than them holding a cloth bag full of groceries in her arms.

            “Hey guys…what’s going on…?” The woman asked her three, unexpected guests. For a moment, silence passed between them. Then Greg flashed a frustrated glance at Jaffery.

            “Press the button, Jaffery…” Greg stated, smacking his forehead with the palm of his right hand.

            “Oh yeah.” Laughing nervously, Jaffery pulled a white square from his jeans pocket and pressed the large, red button on its surface. Immediately, red confetti and a large banner, reading: Happy 30^th Birthday Jessica!, dropped down from the ceiling. Jessica’s face lit up with excitement at what her three friends had done for her.

            “C’mon into the kitchen,” Janice beckoned, “we have a huge cake waiting for you.” The three friends started leaving for the kitchen, expecting Jessica to follow but she didn’t budge from her spot in front of the doorway. Instead, her knees dropped to the floor as harshly as the groceries that were once in her arms. Although her hands covered her face, tears could still be seen coming from her eyes.

            “What’s wrong Jess?” Greg asked. “Did we do something wrong?”

            “No,” she responded, “I’m just so happy that someone remembered what today is.”

            “Of course we remembered!” Janice remarked. “We’d never forget a day like this!” Jessica smiled brightly.

            “I’m so glad to have friends like you guys,” Jessica mumbled through tears.

            “Don’t sweat it.” Greg winked. “Now c’mon! Let’s have some cake so you can pick out what you want to do this year for your gift.”

            “Can’t you see I’ve already been given a gift?” Jessica stated with a laugh. Her three friends stared at her blankly, unsure of what she meant. “Thanks to you guys, I’m happy for once. What could be a greater gift than happiness?”

            Smoothly, Greg went to his friend on the floor and put his hand out for her to grab. Such a gentlemen-like gesture widened the smile on Jessica’s face as she was helped to her feet. All three of them moved to the kitchen where a round, wooden table was set up in the center of the room with three chairs situated around the table’s edges.

            The kitchen was quiet, tainted by solely the small tick of the clock on the wall and the memories of the liveliness it had once accepted within its borders. Jessica slowly sat down on one of the chairs and stared out at the empty table in front of her. Small tears began to pour down her soft cheeks with the thoughts of her haunted past.

            Tick tock, the clock ticked on the wall behind her. With teary eyes she stared at the decrepit wall directly in front of her whose wallpaper had begun to grow as faded and ravaged as her life. The one item that decorated the wall was a newspaper article which detailed the death two men and a woman—all in their mid-twenties—at the fault of their friend’s reckless driving. The longer she stared at the article, the faster her tears fell onto the table. Softly, she began to sing.

            “Happy birthday to me…Happy birthday to me…Happy birthday dear murderer…Happy birthday to me…”

Fate drives me.

~Alex

I'm Still Here

Ciaossu!

Yes guys, I'm still around. I apologize for not posting this week, I have been incredibly busy with school and other things. However, I am back with a lot of news!!! First, as you already know, Megan has left the blog, meaning that there are just five of us remaining. Despite this, the blog will be using a new post schedule, which you can check on the right sidebar to see when you're favorite writer will be posting and to help increase the number of posts a month.

Secondly, I will be starting plenty of challenges and creating a few joint posts with writers on the blog or from other sites and a few guests. ;) I am also writing plenty of stories about people who had an impact on my life., which I will be posting soon as a series of short stories called.... I don't know yet! XD Although you guys will be the first to know about it! Lastly, I will give you guys a poem to enjoy. Tell me what you think! ;)
=====================================================

"Forbidden"

staring at a safe distance,

keeping a special connection.

Her face is like a rose,
dangerous to touch but not gaze at.

Her voice like a siren,
a beautiful warning at danger.

Her touch like a flame,
too hot to touch but gives a warm embrace.

Her features are the pinnacle of beauty,
but are equally as forbidden.

I must traverse a moral circle,
never allowed to cross it's line.

staring at a safe distance,
but stuck in a lifeless forest.

~APLIW~

Vast Blue

Lost in the vast blue.

is it the sky or the sea?

Do I sail open waters?

or glide through open air?

My mind drifts

I'm floating away.

Away from what?

I can't see shore,

Only blue.

And I could

not be floating

I could be soaring.

But there is blue above,

and below.

And I'm just a speck.