I'm sitting in my living room typing to the beat of Frank Sinatra. The TV occasionally gets a word in between songs and Sam, my wonderful, smart, young cousin sits on the couch texting her boyfriend. The only think that goes through my head other than song lyrics and mental images provided by Gage Matthews about certain people *cough* is the thought of a new year. This past year has been so... Eventful. Up and down just like every other year of my short life. But this past year was different for some reason. I didn't just gain worldly knowledge, but I gained a lot of information and knowledge and awareness of myself. Who I am and who I can become. I've been tested by teachers, and stretched by friends. I look back at the past year and can only think about two events. Well, three. One being Third Block. Two being my trip to Tampa (see the note “June 7. 9 P.M. Eastern Standard Time” for further information on that.) The third and most important thing I think about when I reflect back is losing the most amazing man I've ever known: Coach Ray Woodard. He was "Coach" to the world, but to me he was "G-dad." A grandfather loved by many. Every month on the sixteenth I think about what he has taught me over the years. It wasn't until we lost him that I finally realized what he meant. I think that is how most everybody is, though. I never realized that it was him who taught me patience. He taught me to listen. To hear. Oddly enough, he taught me the importance of words. And for a poet, that's a pretty big thing. I spent what felt like years of my life in a hospital room with him during his last months. Sat in a chair, afraid to even near him. I let my fear of hospitals stand in the way of me being able to tell him for one last time that I love him. I wanted everyday to just whisper in his ear and let him know how much he means to me. How I'll never forget him. How he'll live on forever through his sport and, hopefully, my words. I never got to thank him for the sixteen years of love and care. Everyday I wish I could go back in time and let him know. But I am glad I told him one thing:

"Be free."

A quote commonly used when we (Sam and I) would let go of his wheelchair when we would enter his living room. It was his freedom to freely go about his business without having to be pushed around by some girl. When he was struggling through his last days, at some point, I had the strength to stand next to him. I looked into his eyes (which is not common for me) and gave him the best hug I could as a goodbye and I whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "Be free, Grandad, be free." It was the hardest sentence I've ever had to form. And it's the hardest sentence I've ever had to type.

I still don't think this note has actually voiced what I've actually wanted to say. If it has, then I'd be surprised.

So, here's to a new year. A strong year. A year where I will say what I want to say to the person I want to say it to no matter what kind of bed they are in. Water or hospital. (Pardon that... Best joke I could think of to lighten the mood)

Crayon Jesus

In Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 follows Montag, the owner of one of the last Bibles known to man kind. During a conversation with Faber, his trusted side kick, the readers discover that Jesus has been mad into the Billy Mays of the future. Faber says, "I often wonder if God recognized His own son the way we've dressed him up, or is it dressed him down?" This is us, and that is our Jesus. With all the things like The Blaze and 3:20 held through Hillcrest students, it's like this house of the Lord is used to go and socialize with your friend you haven't seen since second block. Christians have lost the Jesus part of church. The Jesus part of Christmas. The Jesus part of life. It's like everyone is handing their kids a Jesus coloring book and a box of crayons and saying, "Color in the lines, son, color in the lines!" What is happening when they color inside those lines? They are putting this marketed figured of Jesus in their minds. The white and blue robes, the brown hair, the smile. You can't color Jesus on a piece of paper. It isn't possible. Because Jesus isn't colorable. His lines are ever-changing, so that he can guide us through our lives. How I imagine my Jesus is different than the way everyone else imagines Him. My Jesus can't be colored by anyone, not even me. Because my Jesus lives within my heart and soul, and He shows himself in different ways everyday.

The New and IMPROVED Breaking Dawn

dedicated to Harley Englebert for one last time.


Part One
I woke up and immediately felt larger than I should have. I clapped and the lights came flickering on.
“What are you doing,” Bocaj asked me half asleep.
“Look,” I said pointing to my stomach, “I have the belly of a pregnant lady! No! I have the belly of eight pregnant women!”
Bocaj looked at me with a smile. “It’s okay,” he reassured me.
“How is this okay?”
“It’s the way it works with us,” he said. I looked at him confused. “Aliens…”
I rolled my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean, honey? That I get pregnant without actually doing anything to get pregnant? We haven’t had,” I stopped talking when I realized the kids were in the next room. “You know- We haven’t done anything since last spring.”
He looked depressed. “I know this, babe. Alien babies develop before you sleep with someone. In order to keep the baby, we have to have sex.”
I looked at him and laughed. “You really just want in my pants, don’t you?”
“You’re my wife, I don’t have to use lousy lines like that,” he said as a mater of fact.
“Oh, yeah,” I remembered. I sighed.
“This thing,” he said gesturing towards my stomach, “will go away in a few hours unless you want to keep the little thing. That’s when we have sex.”
“Don’t we have enough kids as it is?” I asked concerned.
“We don’t have any kids,” he stressed.
When I heard the sadness in his voice, I knew what I had, and wanted to do.
“Let’s have sex, then,” I told him.
He looked at me, eyes smiling. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” I said, “I want to have your baby.”
His smile grew wider. “You know I love your kids, right?”
I nodded. “Of course, Honey. Why?”
His smile stayed. “I’m just go glad this one is mine!”

Part Two: “WE INTURUPT YOUR PROGRAM TO BRING YOU A SPECIAL REPORT FROM STEPHENIE MEYERS”
Dear Twilight fans and haters, do allow me to say this: Laurie Laurie Laurie’s New and IMPROVED Twilight Saga really is an improvement from my Twilight Saga. While I am thankful for the success that Twilight has had, I am sad at the fact that I was not lucky enough to have the creative mind to create a Twilight of this extreme. Oh, how I wish that I had the idea or aliens and robots. My own Twilight has created movies that are only good for watching onced or twiced, as they say in Alabama. I feel that The New and IMPROVED Twilight Saga would have called for better movies, which would have been more entertaining than my own. Thank you for listening to me. –Stephenie Meyer


Part Three
I could hear the nurse taking to the doctor intensely in the corner.
“That isn’t the belly of a pregnant woman. She has to have at least seven or eight kids in that thing,” the nurse said scared.
“The tell her to push,” the doctor ordered.
The nurse came towards me. “Push,” she demanded.
I pushed and my body fell numb.
Before the night was over, I have eight babies surrounding me.
I pulled Bocaj towards me by his shirt. “What the hell did you knock me up for? Eight times!”
He looked offended. “I don’t control the number. Now, be happy.”
“Names?” the nurse asked us.
I pointed towards the one directly to the right of me. “Sneezy,” I told the nurse. She looked at me like I was crazy. I went around the circle of babies, pointing as I named them. “Sleepy, Dopey, Doc, Happy, Bashful, and Grumpy,” I said.
“What about her?” the nurse asked, pointing with the pencil to the child in my arms.
“Alcey Anglins,” I said.
Before the nurse wrote down the name, a little voice rose into the room.
“Seriously? That isn’t a name.”
I looked at Bocaj and then to the baby. “Did you just—“
“Yes. Name me something cool. Nothing like Alcey. Not Renesmee. Something like Normea Alice.”
I smiled. “That’ll be fine, I told the nurse.”
“Thank you,” Normea said.
I looked at Bocaj. “It’s normal,” he told me.
Some nurses took the babies out of the room.
“They are going to fight with the others,” I told Bocaj concerned.
He looked at me, contemplating the possibilities of injuring the babies. “I’ll have to start with alienizing them first. They’ll be in some pain, but not much. It’ll have to set in for about ten minutes each, then I can reverse it. Humanizing is a tricky process, but I’ve done it many times before, and I can do it again.”
I cried, pulling him in the hospital bed with me. “Thank you.”
“And I’ve been thinking,” he eased in.
“Yes?”
“If the babies are going to be full human,” he stated.
“So, this has been thought about for five minutes?” I joked.
“Yes,” he laughed. “I want to humanize myself. That way we can be a normal family.”
“What about the other kids?”
He sighed. “I can alienize them, then humanize them if needed.”
I pondered the idea. “You are way too good for me,” I cried joyfully.

“Honey, how do you work this thing?” Bocaj yelled through the house.
“Work what?” I asked from the babies’ room.
“This thing,” he called. “This yellow stick looking thing with grass-ish stuff hanging from the end!”
I laughed. “Honey, that’s the broom,” I informed him. “You have seen me use it before. When I sweep the floor to get the crumbs and things up.”
“Oh, yeah!” He called. “Let me try this again!”
I laughed while I continued to help with the babies.
The doorbell rang and I ran downstairs to answer it. I glanced over to Bocaj as I walked towards the door and watched him trying to find the ‘on button.’
I answered the door and laughed when I saw who it was.
“Fredward?!”
He held a suitcase forward and shrugged. “We were evicted,” he said. Behind him, Gralf looked down at his shoes ashamed.
I looked at Bocaj. He shrugged, giving permission for Fredward and Gralf to come in,
“Come, come,” I told them, taking Fredward’s bag.
“I thought I would try coming here. I mean, the kids are here and I miss them.” He turned to Bocaj. “I hope that is okay.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bocaj said from the kitchen.
“Wonderful!” Fredward exclaimed flamboyantly.
“There is an extra room on the fourth floor that y’all can stay in for now,” I told them.
“Fourth?!” Fredward and Gralf exclaimed in unison.
I laughed. “Guys, we have twenty kids living here. Of course it takes four floors to raise them.” I looked at Bocaj. “That’s why we bought this mansion anyway.”
Bocaj smirked at the word mansion.
Gralf looked amazed. “Twenty?”
Bocaj put the broom down and joined us in the crowded living room. “Yeah! Twelve from this guy,” he said, pointing to Fredward, “and eight of my own.”
Fredward looked down at his shoes. Gralf looked at him as if he forgot that Fredward had kids before he meet him.
Fredward looked at me concerned. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Bocaj answered for me.
“Alone,” he said strongly, gesturing towards the kitchen.
He started to walk towards the kitchen. I looked at Bocaj and assured him that it was okay.
We got into the kitchen and I jumped on the counter next to the seat so I would be sitting at his height.
“I’m sure if I want my kids in a house full of half alien kids,” he said forcefully.
“We humanized them, Fredward,” I told him firmly.
He sighed. “So, my kids are going to die before me?” I didn’t say anything. “I’ll live longer than them.” I nodded, understanding now what he meant. “How would that look?”
“Confused?”
“Humanize me, please,” he asked as a statement.
I stopped talking before I even started. “Does Gralf know?”
He looked at me in disappointment.
“No,” I said. “How can he not know? Listen, Fredward, if you don’t tell him—“
He stopped me. “I’ve tried to. It would be too late now. We’ve had such a good life.”
“You have to.” I jumped down from the counter and gave him a hug. “It’s the right thing to do.”
We walked back into the kitchen to find Gralf and Bocaj looking awkwardly across the living room at each other.
“We have to go to the store, guys,” I told them.
“Okay, let’s go,” Fredward and Bocaj jumped at the same time.
“I just need one for you,” I joked. “But all of you is fine, too.”
“Come on,” Bocaj said relentlessly.
“Emma Jane,” I called. “You’re in charge until we get back from the store. Normea is coming with us.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she yelled back from the top of the stairs. “Oh, hey, Dad.”
“Hey, honey. How are you?” He asked with a smile.
“Good,” she responded before going back upstairs.
We all pilled into the car and drove in silence to the nearest store.
“Okay,” I turned to Bocaj when he stopped the car in the parking lot. “There is a thing called a buggie that you have to put with hands. When you find the food you want, you pick it up off of the shelf and put it into the buggie. Get it?”
Fredward laughed when Bocaj tried to respond. “I got it,” he said.
“Let’s go,” Gralf said cheerfully from the backseat.
We all walked towards the front of the store in an awkward line. Fredward held Normea in his arms as if she were his on child. I could tell that it was bothering Bocaj, but he held his anger back and let Fredward continue.
“Buggie,” I pointed to Bocaj.
He and Fredward went for the same buggie at the same time. Before I knew it, Fredward and Bocaj both had buggies and were running frantically around the store trying to get groceries. Gralf and I stood in humiliation.
“What are they doing,” Gralf asked me, leading me to a bench outside the store.
I followed his lead. “I think one of them is trying to push a better buggie.”
“I can’t believe he still feels like he needs to show off in front of your husband,” Gralf said sympathetically.
I nodded in agreement. “I think it’s more for the kids.”
“Even when they aren’t around, right?” Gralf joked.
I hit him playfully.
“Ready,” Bocaj’s voice came suddenly.
“Yep, yep,” Fredward said. “Norm and I did it all ourselves,” he gestured to his full buggie.”
I stood up and walked up to Fredward and took Normea back from him. I stood inches from his face and pointed my index finger right in his face.
“You do not call my daughter ‘Norm.’ She will not be affiliated with the Loc Ness Monster’s second cousin,” I said demandingly.
Fredward’s eyes went black. He squirmed and I heard something inside of him start to tick. He crouched down and took Normea from my arms. I jumped back.
“No!” I yelled.
He held Normea’s leg to his mouth and the sound of metal rubbing against metal filled the air.
He placed Normea on the ground and the second he was away from her, I ran to him. Bocaj took Normea to the car and I stayed standing outside hanging on Fredward’s back. I ripped the back of Fredward’s shirt and took the plate out of his neck.
“Take this,” I said, grabbing two wires and switching them. He spazed out.
I jumped off his back and ran to the car leaving Fredward, Gralf and two full buggies standing in the front of the store.
I got to the car and found Bocaj standing motionless and pale next to the open driver’s side door.
“Honey,” I asked scared.
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, God,” I said, pushing him to the other side of the car. I took the keys from the door and hopped into the driver’s seat.
I speed out of the parking lot and went to the hospital quickly.
I called my mother and told her to quickly go to the house and help Emma Jane help with taking care of the kids.


The hospital room was dark and gloom when I woke up. I rolled over and looked at the clock on the wall. 3:42. Bocaj coughed roughly from his bed. I stumbled from the chair and walked towards him, taking his hand that he held out to me.
“I love you,” he said calmly and quietly.
He reached his other hand towards me and rubbed my check. I leaned in and kissed him softly. He patted my head and then handed me a folded, torn piece of paper.
The monitor stopped beeping and the room fell silent.
A nurse ran into the room followed by a doctor and a few more nurses. The checked all the machines and the room quickly became chaotic and loud.
I continued to stand next to him, still holding his hand. His fingers turned cold.
I opened the piece of paper and immediately noticed the highlighted phrase,


“Thus with a kiss I die.”

Two poems... READ

FLAMES
The flame catches hold and spreads like wildfire
from person to person and soul to soul.
It comes from no where, catching us off guard.
All we are taught is book and words,
and when the real fight comes, we lack the knowledge
on how to protect ourselves.
The structure crackles and burns in florescent orange,
highlighting our faces with a somber glow,
and we watch our hard work fall through the flames.

HAPPY PAIN
My heart calls quietly for you,
while my mind rushes to conclusions.
How can I force myself to wait
when you're right where I want you?
Right where my heart is complete,
right where my smile is brightened.
Pain crawls from among the haze,
and attacks my happiness, my joy.
Pain cannot affect me, though,
because there is happiness in the pain.
Happiness from where you stand beside me.
This pain can't stop me or stand in my way,
because for once in my life
I know what's worth fighting for:
You

Until

You look deeply into my eyes and lie to me-
Straightforward and bold, not caring about the truth
Until it comes up when you wish me away.

We laugh, we run, we fly-
Staying in the air despite what brings us down,
Until the humor and energy dies.

I wake up to your memory-
But am haunted because I’m alone,
Until you rush back and remind me of you.

I hang to every spoken word you send my way-
The good and the bad blend as one,
Until you remind me that all of it means nothing.

Long time no post...

I find something extremely poetic about the fall and winter. The leaves all in different colors, the trees cold and lonely. I think everyone enjoys the bare leaves to some extent. They are like us, right? We grow, big and strong, with great, bright green leaves. But, as time moves, we change. We change into different colors, different people. We lose our old ways, and find new ones. But, that tree...

That tree is us. We are lost, lonely, cold, we have no protection. We expose ourselves in the snow beaten winds. That vulnerable tree still manages to get attention, though. Even without its personality and beliefs, bystanders stop to look at it. Stop to observe the trees' beauty. No matter what season it is, people still have an overwhelming attraction to trees.

We have to be a tree, in some sense of that though. Well, we do not HAVE to be that tree, but we should WANT to be that tree. We should possess that beauty whether we have great, big, green leaves, or none at all.

Teddy

When I smile, it's because I'm thinking about you.

Thinking about your joy and passion for life.
Your smile sets fire to my heart,
melting me like chocolate on a hot summers day. In the darkest of hours, you smile and hold me tight, making sure I can survive the night.
Your smile is the light at the end of the tunnel,
shinning bright for the people to see where you lead.

Suffocation ((otherwise known as Math))

A deep breath,
a sigh,
a cry.
Heavy breathing,
blury eyes,
light headed.
Twist-
turn-
fall.
Hands cover face,
knees against floor-
stomach closing in.
Gasp.
Moan.
Die.

Happily Never After

I'm tired of being an afterthought;
an idea you keep locked up in the back of your mind.
You have told me that you want me back,
but you tell me to move on and you push me away.
What is the purpose of going through this?
Getting our hopes up,
then watching them fall.
You promise me you will change,
and I promise you that I will stay,
but neither promise is kept, because neither one of us stays.
If you think I can do better,
why don't you better yourself
and become my crying shoulder?
Our lives were meant to blend,
meant to become one and fall in love,
but our stubbornness creates a wall
that we are not willing to climb over.
You're supposed to be mine,
to hold me forever.
I'm supposed to be yours,
to bring out your good side.
But my life has continued too long without you,
to suddenly be invaded by your presence once more.
We both will forever love each other,
and we will both love again,
but in the back of your mind,
I'll stay. And in the back of mine,
you.

Sean

I hear your footsteps nearing,
and I feel your presence around me.
I do not move; I wait for you.
I knoew you stand behind me,
like a stalker in the night,
scared of love and affection.
Is it truly me you run from?
Or is it your fear you run to?
You leave me cold, locked out in the rain.
I see you watching me from the outside,
contemplating on whether you should knock on my heart's door.
Only, not it is different,
I will not let you back into my life,
because I finally have control.

Hurricane Season

Though you've never been mine,
you come into my life at unexpected times
and destroy the wall I have built around me.
And after I gather the remains up,
you send your friends after me,
to knock down what you couldn't.
I prepare for the next strike,
I gather my things,
and leave my home behind.
I don't know what the future holds for me,
but with you in the back of my mind,
your love will last through hurricane seasons.

Heart and Mind Agree

My heart knows it wants your love,
It knows you are beautiful and kind,
But my mind knows you will never be mine.
I do not act with my head,
but I act with my heart,
hoping you will one day love me as I you.
My heart plays the angel on my shoulder,
who sees the good in everyone.
But my mind is the devil on the other,
telling me to move on against my will.
When my heart and mind agree,
is when we will finally be.

Barrel Wall

You hang on the wall,
next to your spouse,
Watching children play checkers.
You hang, neglected by your family,
And observed by traveling strangers.
You claimed your love for each other
On the day of your wedding,
In front of everyone you knew,
And your love stays strong to this day.
Your lifelong devotion to each other,
Is put on a pedestal in front of all eyes.
That is why, I want a love
That can be hung on Cracker Barrel’s wall.

The Guitar of Life

I play the cords,
I travel the neck.
My melody is unique,
No one knows the notes.

I have my own style,
I dance my own beat.
My foot taps at the rhythm,
No one knows my happiness.

I play my song,
I sing my lyrics.
My heart plays the guitar,
That no one else controls.

Mr. Hook

Your ways are manipulative,
Your views are ridiculous,
And your mind is screwed,
But somehow you manage to draw us in.
You kidnap our precious belongings and loves,
And threaten their lives to get to ours.
You fight with all your might,
Only to lose to a bunch of kids
And their leader, Peter Pan.
Mr. Hook, is that how you get your pride?
By fighting with children?
You are a child, yourself,
For you can’t even defeat them.
Perhaps, it’s because kids are willing.
They are willing to believe in themselves,
Unlike the adults you call your crew.
Mr. Hook, it is time to stop.
Because those kids see the real you.

Six Poems

1. Be Free
One day, we’ll meet again.
But for now, it’s your time.
Time for your dance.
Time for your run.
Be free, Granddad and hug your maker.
Your spirit will always be with us,
Your words will guide us from the sideline.
One day, we’ll meet you at the field.

2. Personal Hell
Afraid of silence,
Afraid of love,
Afraid of happiness,
Afraid of pain,
Afraid of everything.

I create a world
Where no one feels.
We walk alone.
We’re always numb.
Our own personal hell.

A hell that no one knows
Except me and the voice within my mind.
My own stream of consciousness,
Kills me soul.
I am dead now.

Not physically dead,
But mentally and emotionally.
Dig my gave, deep in the ground,
But not so deep, I can’t feel the rain.

3. Monkey Bars
Blistered hands and dangling feet,
I continue down the monkey bars.
The end is in sight
And yet so far away.
My hand slips,
And I bring it back up.
Five more bars,
Four more bars,
Three more bars,
Two.
I make it across,
Healthy and strong.
Then I turn around
And go back
To follow the endless path
Of the life we lead.
I learn from my past,
And find strength to keep moving
As I continue down the monkey bars.

4. Untitled Four
O Lord, where are you when I need you most?
Why do you hide when I am on my knees?
I call and I call and I call,
But you do not answer.
I go through life dazed and confused,
Then you come and lift me out of high waters
When I expect it least.
You save my soul from Satan’s kiss
And show me where the path starts.
I question, but I follow
For I know you are never wrong.
You are the strength in my spine
And the sense in my mind.
I always call to you,
Because you are my lighthouse.

5. Nature
Nature is like love;
It holds beauty and life.
It is like pain.
That slowly fades away.
It is like a soft blanket,
That always warms your soul.
It is like people,
Who change through time.
It is breathe taking,
Much like the beauty in your eyes.




6. Untitled Five
If I could hide in a tree,
Or in the leaves on the ground,
I would stay there forever.
Forever with the lions who protect me.
Forever with the deer who warm me.
The trees would block the rain from me,
And they would shade me in the heat.
To live in the woods,
Is to live in the night.
To hunt mice with the owls,
And to run with the mice.

Slave Child

Do you see them looking at you?

Looking at you like they look at their master.

They follow your demand.

Who took their freedom away?

"The white man with too much power,"

they say.

Is their freedom lesser than ours?

Less important? Less avalible?

They are children,

let them go play.

The New and IMPROVED Eclipse

--dedicated to Harley Englebert, Lyndsey Smith and Elizabeth Robins--

Honey,
I’ve been cutting my wrist a lot, but no worries....
I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I just....
Sorry I left you and the kids.
Fredward

I woke up to the sound of silence. Sweet relief, I thought. No kids for two weeks, thank you, Mom and Dad.
I continued to lie in bed until I heard the bang from the front door shutting. I jumped out of bed and ran down the flights of stairs to meet Bocaj at the door.
He ran to me when he saw me coming and picked me up fiercely, yet, at the same time, kissing me tenderly.
“Good news,” he said, “I got off from work next week.” I loosen his tie. “So, I booked us a trip to Florida!”
“What?!”
“Haven’t you always wanted to go?” he asked confused.
“Well, yeah. I’m just surprised. Thanks, baby,” I say throwing his tie to the floor.
“Anything for you,” he said. “And, the best part about it, no kids.”
I smiled. “Just like I like it.”
He kisses my neck. “Go pack.” He sets my feet on the ground and points me up the stairs.
I ran up stairs on my tip-toes followed immediately by Bocaj’s heavy foot steps.
“Suitcases?” I asked when we reached the room.
“Under the bed,” he answered while he pulled clothes from the dresser.
I pulled the suitcases out and opened them on the bed, then ran to the bathroom.
“I’ll take gather all of the toiletries together! You pack the clothes,” I demanded, “Don’t forget my tennis shoes!
“Where are they?”
“Closet floor under the salt and pepper Halloween costumes from last year,” I instruct.
I dug through the pile of things around our sink, gathering our toothbrushes, our toothpaste, the Q-tips, and our deodorants. I put them to the side, then dug around in the cabinet above the sink, trying to find a large make up bag to put everything in.
“Ready yet?” Bocaj yelled.
“Hold on!” I yelled back, throwing everything into the bag. I grabbed my make up and threw it into the bag, making sure we had room for the hairbrush.
“Don’t forget the toothpaste!”
“I got it! Where is the hairbrush?”
He hesitated. “Um, in here!”
I picked up the bag, and ran into the bed room.
“Did you get plane tickets already?” I asked while putting the bag in the suitcase.
“On my way home. They’re in the car. Ready?”
I zipped up the suitcases.
“I’ll get that. Go put on your shoes. Meet you at the car.”
Bocaj ran towards the bed and picked up the suitcases with one arm.
I stared at him, amazed.
He stopped outside of the door. “What?”
“Strong.”
He laughed and walked out of the room.
[[Florida]]
“I have a surprise for you,” Bocaj said as we walked out of the Holiday Inn lobby and to our car in the Florida heat. “Private scuba diving lessons!”
“No way! I’ve always wanted to go! How did you know?”
“Just a guess.”
[[Scuba diving]]
Bocaj pointed to a manatee about ten feet away from us. The blue water was cool against my body. I looked at it surprised. Manatees are my favorite animal.
Then, I noticed something floating in the distance. I swam after the instructor to see if it was any concern.
The instructor, Mr. Goshdashtidar, swam out closer towards the object while Bocaj and I watched from the boat during the lunch break.
“I wonder what it is,” Bocaj said in between sandwich bites.
“I hope it isn’t dead,” I said concerned.
We watched in silence as Mr. Goshdashtidar swam back, pulling the mystery object behind him.
Oh, man, I thought to myself, Mr. Goshdashtidar has a nice body.
“It’s a body! Help me pull him up to the boat!” he yelled to us.
We jumped up and stepped to the edge of the boat to prepare to lift the body into the boat. Mr. Goshdashtidar pulled the body to the edge of the boat, and Bocaj and I pulled him up while Mr. Goshdashtidar pushed him up. We quickly got the body up on the boat. Mr. Goshdashtidar came up in the boat, pushing us aside to perform CPR on the body.
“He isn’t responding,” Mr. Goshdashtidar said.
“Let me take a look,” I said, jumping in front of Mr. Goshdashtidar. I pushed the man’s black, wet bangs from his face and stopped. “Fredward,” I muttered under my breath. Robot… Water… I thought. Rust! “Get towels!” I told Bocaj before he could recognize his face. Bocaj handed me multiple towels and I covered Fredward’s body with them, trying to soak up the water before it settled in.
“Leave him be,” I told the men.
“What?” Mr. Goshdashtidar asked.
“Trust me,” I assured him.
He sighed. “Okay. Let’s head back to shore. Bocaj, can you use the phone to call the hospital? Phone book is next to the phone.”
“Sure,” Bocaj agreed.
The guys left me with Fredward. I took the towels off of Fredward’s body and laid down next to him, hoping my touch would wake him from his rustic sleep. His body was comfortable against my own. I shut my eyes, letting my brain wonder back to when we still slept in the same bed each night. Suddenly, I felt his hand wrap around my back. I looked at him with sadness in my eyes.
“Morning,” he said.
I stood up and stepped back. “What are you doing?”
“We should be lovers, and that's a fact.”
“You left me for concentration camps and Kinder balls.”
“I brought you some of those, by the way.”
I looked at him. “How did you know where I was?”
“It’s a robot thing.”
Just then, Bocaj walked out on deck with us. “Fredward? You’re the body that we pulled up and saved?” He looked to the sky. “Why, God?”
“Thanks,” Fredward said half as a question. He stuck his hand out in front of him for Bocaj to shake, but Bocaj refused.
Fredward turned to me. “Listen,” he said sincerely, “I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything reminds me of you; paper, pencils, chocolate, shoes, socks, BBQ, ribs, hamburgers, hot dogs, potato chips… Food in general. Anyway,” he got down on one knee, taking my hands, and asked, “will you marry me?”
Bocaj and I look at each other and laugh. Fredward looks stunned.
About five minutes later, we are back to shore and still laughing, dramatically acting out Fredward’s proposal.
Mr. Goshdashtidar anchors the boat in the harbor then comes back to see what the laughter was about.
“Fredward?” he asked excited as he looked to see who was standing with us.
“Gralf?”
“What? I didn’t recognize you when I rescued you. I guess we’re even now,” he said, giving Fredward a hug.
“Guess that is fair. I save your life, you save mine. Quid pro quo,” Fredward joked.
“Y’all know each other?” I asked, pointing to Mr. Goshdashtidar then to Fredward.
“This man,” Mr. Goshdashtidar said, throwing this arm around Fredward, “saved my life a few years back. We’ve been buds ever since. You know them?”
Fredward answered for us, “Yeah. We went to school together.”
“Worst days of my life,” I told them.
We laughed at that for a moment.
“Let’s go,” Bocaj says. “Thanks for the lesson, Mr. Goshdashtidar.”
“Not a problem. Lovely meeting you both.”
“Nice seeing you, Fredward,” Bocaj said sardonically before we left the boat.
[[Hotel Room]]
“Wow,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking my shoes off, trying not to get dirt on the off white bedspread. “Can you believe that?”
“I don’t blame him. You’re hard to resist.”
Bocaj took off his button up shirt and tossed it in the red mismatch chair, revealing his extremely toned body. I bit my bottom lip at the sight of his body.
“You flatter me,” I laughed.
“You know I love you right?”
I looked at him. “Yes. Why?”
“I have to go away for a few days. On a mission.”
“Mission? Are you some kind of spy?”
He chuckled. “It’s time for the family to go make the annual crop circle.”
“Wait a minute. Is that why you took a vacation by yourself last summer?”
He sat next to me on the bed and took my hand. “Yes. I didn’t tell you because I thought you would laugh.”
“Well, I’m glad you told me.” I kissed him. “Can I come?”
“You think you can handle it? Humans don’t usually succeed in circling.”
“I can handle you, can’t I?”
“Good point,” he said. “Okay. You can come. Make sure Fredward doesn’t propose this time.”
“He has allergies,” I chuckled.
Bocaj took me by my waist, hoisting me to the middle of the bed. He kissed me softly and I allowed my fingers to run through his soft, brown hair. His hands held me at the waist, still and my hands wondered around his arms and stomach.
“I love you,” Bocaj said while he kissed my neck.
“I love you, too.”
[[Crop Circle]]
The moon hung silent in the night sky. The wind was chilly and raw against my soft skin. Bocaj’s family got here quickly, all surprised when they saw me.
“She better not slow us down,” Bocaj’s sister said when she neared. She never did like me.
“Just stay by me,” Bocaj whispered in my ear.
“Okay, Family! Ready? Go,” Bocaj’s father, Yllib, commanded.
The family all darted out into the corn field, leaving me left behind, not knowing what to do. The wind grew colder and my wind coat became obsolete.
Before I knew it, Bocaj and his family were standing with me again.
“Let’s get back to the hotel,” Bocaj told me.
“Are y’all finished already?”
Yllib laughed. “Yes, Hun. You’ll see the finished product on the news tomorrow. See you later, Son.”
We watched the family leave in different directions. Bocaj moved in front of me to block the wind.
“Where did we leave off in the hotel room?” he asked pulling me closer to him.
“I think we were somewhere around here,” I said leaning closer to him.
“Oh, yeah,” he smiled, leaning in to kiss me.
As we kissed, we heard something shuffle in the distance.
Bocaj pulled away. “Shh. Someone is in those woods. Hop on my back. I must carry you for now.
I didn’t hesitate. I followed his direction and hopped on his back. My mind wondered back to the last time my own father had given me a piggy back ride.
“Don’t say a word,” Bocaj whispered to me.
I nodded.
Suddenly, we heard music coming from the woods. Bocaj stopped.
“What is that?” he asked.
I listened for a second before answering, “A harmonica and a kazoo, I think.”
“Kazoo,” he repeated as a question.
“Yeah. The little plastic music things you get your kids. You hum into it and it makes that noise. We got the kids some for Christmas last year.”
“Oh, yeah! I wonder who is out there. Let’s go look,” Bocaj said, tip-toeing off.
I slid off of Bocaj’s back and followed Bocaj into the woods. We hid behind a bush, not far from the musicians.
I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the faces.
“That sounds good, Baby,” one of the voices sad deeply.
“Thanks, Hun,” the other sad happily.
Bocaj looked at me. “That’s a man’s voice. Two men?”
We listened for a little longer.
We heart kissy noises and the rustle of leaves.
Oh snap, I thought.
“Oh, Fredward,” a voice moaned.
Bocaj and I looked at each other and snickered. “What?” I mouthed.
“Gralf, you are amazing,” Fredward said over the sound of rustling leaves.
Bocaj’s mouth dropped. We looked at each other and laughed a loud howl.
“Who’s there?” Gralf jumped.
Bocaj and I stood up from behind the bush.
“Marry me, Fredward?” I joked, high fiving Bocaj.
Fredward looked stunned. He stopped in his tracks and didn’t move.
Gralf looked at him. “Do what?”
“Yeah,” Bocaj said, “Fredward, here, proposed to my wife today on your boat before you came out there.”
Fredward swallowed. Gralf looked at him intensely.
“Listen, Gralf,” Fredward pleaded. “It was nothing. I was trying to get these two losers to break up so that way I can say that they were dysfunctional and I could maybe get custody of my kids.”
“You have kids?” Gralf asked appalled.
“Twelve,” I chime in.
“I have to get out of here,” Gralf said through sobs.
“Wait!” Fredward yells, running after him. “Your harmonica!”
Bocaj and I look at each other and smile as we over hear Fredward and Gralf bickering through the woods.
“Oh, man, this is the greatest vacation ever,” I said.

A Mother's Holocaust

She looks at me as if nothing is wrong,

and in her mind, nothing is.

"It's just another play date,"

I tell her as we are separated at the gate.

She smiles and waves to the tall man

with the uniform of a killer.

I know this will be the last time I see her,

because she will not be assigned

a

number.

The Velcro Museum

The museum is dark,
you have to plug up the lamp first,
before you see the Velveteen Rabbit.
Then look at your bag that you lug
around. See the Velcro?
The Velcro Tevye used during the Sabbath.
The Velcro that helped The Wicked Witch say on her broom.
The Velcro on the shoes you wear near the fryer.
The Velcro that holds the moon
in the starry night sky. It's the Velcro
that held Hitler's army together
The Velcro that chained the slaves together
the Velcro that held the stories of the twin towers
the Velcro that was hidden in the walls of every New Orleans home
the Velcro that kept the Clinton's together.

Broken Brown Grass

I appeal to the eye and cut your fragile skin.
I seam harmless from a distance,
But I attract you and call you in.
I wait for your step, and stick to your foot
And laugh as I watch you cry out in pain,

I am not a gem,
I am not a stone,
I am thin, rough glass.
I shimmer in the sun,
And my glimmering color catches your eye.
For I am a piece of broken glass.

Untitled One

By Christolear and Walker "Texas" Kennedy.

The droning battle cry of thirsty men
they call for their mothers
while laying on the wet, damp
mud boats, peacefully sailing around the moon.
The eclipse turns everything into
dirt; colors all blend to one.
Soldiers die on by one by the
giant ant's leering gaze.
It walks not on ground, but on
quarpets, that float above the world.
Death calls them in and
draws them in their path.
The men march on into
the sea waiting on Death's yacht.
They get ready for
the sea to turn to their blood,
carcasses floating among the sea.
their lives and journeys end.

Labor Pains

I watched you from the dusty window.
I watched you from across the street.
The roar from the mower came through to me
above the chatter from the TV.
I wondered why you were outside,
playing in the fresh grass
instead of inside playing with me.
Your arms flexed as you pushed a car
across the church's front yard.
I tried to tell you,
'just let the grass grow'
but you didn't listen.
Years have gone by, and now I am you,
cutting my church's grass
to make the church look like new.

One Leads to a Thousand

Reach out your hand to those who need.
Hug those who are alone.
Give to those who have nothing to own.
Tell someone of Jesus who has never heard his name.
Start your mission, claim the name, Child of God.
It starts with one; It starts with you.
One leads to a thousand.
Lives will change, we will know His name.

June 7. 9 P.M. Eastern Standard Time

~Base on a true story~

The dark theatre filled with the applause of a thousand crazed fans as the touring cast of RENT took their final bows. Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I took one last look at Adam Pascal and Anthony Rapp before the lights were turned back up and the cast walked off stage.
“That was the most amazing thing ever,” I tell me mom with a sparkle in my eyes.
She smiles and hands me the brown bag of souvenirs we had bought before the show.
We walked slowly through the crowd and through the door of orchestra one.
“Look! A backstage person,” Mom points to a woman. “Let’s talk to her.”
“No,” I protest. Before the word even left my mouth, Mom was walking towards the woman. I followed after her relentlessly, but hopeful.
“Um, hello,” Mom said to the woman.
The woman stepped forward to us, pushing her blond bangs away from eyes. “Hey. Can I help you?” she asked, her thick, Australian accent surprising me.
“My daughter here,” Mom starts, “is RENT’s biggest fan. We drove eleven hours from Alabama to see this play.”
“Really?” the woman asked.
I smiled at her accent.
Mom lowered her voice to a whisper. “Is there any way you could let her backstage and meet the cast?”
“Mom!” I exclaimed.
The woman laughed. “I can’t do that. But, around the back of the building, under a green canopy, most of the cast come out and sign autographs.”
“Thanks!” Mom and I cheered. We ran around the building to find the green canopy.
We walked quickly through the crowd in hope to get just a glimpse of someone. We found an opening in the crowd and I inched my way up to the front.
“Stay off of the sidewalk!” a man in a tux yelled, trying to look FBI.
The crowd ignores him, only getting larger and expanding half way across the street.
Minutes later, the crowd cheered loudly as they saw the chick who played Maureen walk out of the door. She made her way around the circle, signing posters and taking pictures with fans. She got around the circle to where I was and signed my Playbill, Nicolette Hart.
Then, Anthony Rapp makes his way out of the door. The crowd jumps up and down and he smiles.
I watched him make his way around, signing posters and programs and copies of his book.
Hurry up and get here! Hurry up and get here, I think to myself.
He made his way around to my side of the crowd. My heart starts to beat a thousand times a minute and my knees started to tremble. Anthony Rapp inched his way in front of me.
I handed him my copy of his book, Without You, and watched as he autographed the title page.
Anthony Rapp is standing one foot away from me, I yell in my mind.
He hands me the book and reaches right over me to autograph someone’s program.
It felt like years had gone by and I wanted to say something to him just in case I never got the change again. “Have time for a quick hug?” I asked him cautiously.
He laughs. “Can’t. One leads to a thousand.”
That was all I heard before my senses shut down and I stopped hearing him.
He finished his autographs and stepped to the side to keep signing.
My brain clicked on. Picture. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and snap a picture while he was still one or two feet away.
Anthony Rapp finishes his autographs, and the FBI wannabe yelled, “That’s it! We are done!”
The crowd wined, but scattered off to live there lives.
Mom takes my hand and guides me through the crowd. My heard was beating faster than it ever had and slower than it ever had all in the same moment. I hugged Without You to my chest and peacefully rode home with the words, “one leads to a thousand” repeating in my head.

((Not finished))

He calls me beautiful.
He calls me precious.
He tells me everything that I want to hear.
Then he leaves me wishing at the wishing well.
He was my soul, my life, my everything,
but I guess things change.
'Cause he walked out right out of the door,
and left me on the floor.
The tears hit the ground
and crash into the ocean.
He leaves me beaten and bruised,
I guess he never really cared enough to care.

Better than Google

Today, at church, my mom was talking about Doubting Tom. Thomas, that is. But what does he doubt? No, what do we doubt?

My mom always comes to me for help with her sermons. She says I am better than Google: all you have to do is type in the scripture and hit my head, then out pops illustrations for her sermons.

Last night, she used my Google powers. We had just dropped Luke off and we were on our way back home. She turned to me in the car and asked, "Laurie, what do you doubt in Jesus?" I looked at her for a second, then said, "I don't doubt Jesus."

She looked at me like she couldn't believe I have just said that. A minute or two of silence goes by when she finally asked if I was serious. "I am dead serious," I said. "I have nothing to doubt. That's Jesus, of course. I doubt the world."

"Everyone doubts the world," she said. "What do you think people doubt about Jesus?" She asked.

"I don't think it is Jesus, as much as the church," I responded.

Once again, in pure shock, she looks at me and doesn't say a word. Finally she said, "Okay. What do they doubt in the church?"

"They doubt the church family. They doubt that the church family will be there for them. The church doubts that they will make a difference in some one's life. They doubt that what they say matters. They doubt themselves, really, in the fact that they don't think that what they say will bring someone to Jesus."

So, my whole point in telling you this, is don't doubt Jesus. And don't give an unchurched person a reason to doubt the church. We as Christians have to be God's welcoming committee. We have to welcome people into the church and more importantly, into the body of Christ.

However, on the flip side, doubting is really just questioning. And anyone who really just wants to ask God questions will have a strong faith because they are seeking Him.

It's like Hide N' Seek, only He isn't hiding.

May 10

I wrote this for my mom.
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there.

Please, don't kill your kid.


You are my role model, tour guide and light.
My hero, my inspiration and my sense.
You bless me with your wisdom.
You protect me when I am in need.
You are my care taker when I am sick,
And my negotiator when I am in a tight spot.
You are my Wal-Mart and my ATM.
You are my strength when I am week.
You are all that and more, Dear Mother.

05/01/09

Why is fate so cruel?
It brought me to you,
but it keeps us apart.
It gives me a taste,
then takes it away.
I always want more.
More of your hugs,
more of your love.
More of what I long for.
You are the grass under my feet,
and the clouds above my head.
You are the world I want to live in.
You are mine,
and I am yours.
We are together as one.

Not really any good.

Blissful Wishes
Blissful dreams
Blissful smiles
Blissful butterflies

A wish to be with you
And dreams of kidding you
I smile when I hear your name
I get butterflies when you catch my eyes

Poem

The whole world expects.
Expects me to put on a pretty mask,
Expects me to act as if nothing is wrong.
The whole world wishes.
Wishes I could help them.
Wishing things I cannot grant.
The whole world falls on my shoulders.
Fall and crushes me,
Falls and shatters at my feet.
The whole world wants.
Wants me to shine,
Wants me to succeed.
The whole world needs me,
When I need no one.
It always calls when I’m in pain.
The whole world expects me to stay.
Even when I want to walk away.

Dancer or Disciple?

Ms. E's Creative Writing Two, Third block: The place where dances are made. We have Dani's signature dance move: The Kayak; We have MCat's signature move: The Shopping Cart; We have Kelly/mine/Kacie's signature move: The Helen Keller; We have my new move, too: The Broken Tree Branch. =] The greatest thing about it is, we are FREE to dance.


Dancing has always been apart of my life because everyday when I am sitting at my computer, doing absolutely nothing, I stare at the picture hanging on the wall in front of me. It's a picture of Jesus and Peter dancing on water. Why? Because my mom's friend painted it for her because of a dream my mother had one night.

In her dream, she witnesses Jesus and Peter out on the water. She says that in her dream, when Jesus called Peter out to walk on the water, Peter went, but after he sinks and Jesus asks, "Oh, ye of little faith, why do you doubt me?" ((That is my favorite Bible verse; it has gotten me through fifteen, almost sixteen years of my life)) he stands up and doesn't walk back to the boat with Jesus. No, he dances back to that boat! This isn't some Walk-A-Thon! This is a celebration for He is God's LIVING Son and he still takes our hands and pulls us up from the waves.

Peter is by far my favorite disciple. Because in those verses ((Matthew 14: 25-36)) Jesus doesn't call just Peter to come out. Peter said, "Sir, if it is really you, tell me to come over to you, walking on the water." Of course, Jesus did. He said, "All right, come along." He didn't say, "Okay, Peter, bring it," he simple said to come. ANY disciple could have come out and walked on that water, but Peter was the only one who went. Peter had enough faith to step out of the boat, even though he sank, he went.

So, should we sit back in the boat and watch? Or should we be the ones to step out of the boat? Step out of the boat and be a Peter.


This blog is dedicated to my wonderful mother who has shown me all the ways to be a good woman and Christian.

Another 180, Danielle

One more bruise to add to the many.
One more scar to remember.
One more wound from the battle.
One more loss to add to the few.
One more step backwards,
One more step away from you.
One more fall to add to the list.
One more tear to cry.
One more blow from Satan's pain.
One more, one more, one more,
One more reason I can't have you.

Merry Christmas, Beach

Not exactly 'happy' but not emo. Enjoy yourself, Dani.


I have a world.
Where the grass is blue
And the sky is green.
Where children can roam
And parents won’t have to worry.

I have a world.
Where you give more than you take
And everyday is about loving.
Where people can marry whoever
And no one will judge.

I have a world.
Where it’s about love, not strength,
And everyone is equal.
Where people can dance without question
And sing along with the birds.

"You're Strong, Momma"

My mom picked me up from school today and took me to the furniture store to pick up one couch and two bookcases. In agony, I go with her. We got home and got the bookcases out of the van fine but when we got to the couch, it was a little bit more difficult.

"You're strong, Momma! We got this."

She looked up at me while holding the couch with all her strength. She had a sparkle in her eyes as if she was looking at a five year old version of myself.

"Once, when you were five," she told me, "you told me the same thing. You were grounded from the TV for some reason." She laughed for a second before starting back. "Your daddy had taken the TV and put it on the floor in our room. This must have been when we were at Flatwoods," she added in. "Dad was out of town the day you were supposed to get it back and you were so determined to get it back. I told you that you'd have to wait, but you told me, 'Momma, you are just as strong as him. You are strong, Mommy. You can do it.' So, I put the TV on a beach towel and drug it out of our room, down the hall and into the living room. I got to the TV stand and heaved it up and onto the stand while you just stood there behind me and cheered 'You got it!' Then, when I turned back to you, you jumped up and down and we danced around the room celebrating the return of the TV."

"Haha," I laughed. "You are strong, Mom. We can do this."

And together, Mom and I picked the couch out of the van and onto the garage floor.

"Vaccum it," she told me as she walked inside, out of breath, for water.

"New and IMPROVED New Moon" dedicated to Harley Englebert and Taylor Clifton

Ten years later…Continued

I was lying on the bathroom floor holding my stomach. Morning sickness. My clothes were raggedy and dirty. Fredward came into help me.
“Okay?” he asked knowing good and well I wasn’t.
“You’re lucky robots don’t give birth. Well, guys in general.”
“I know,” he smirked. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.”
He closed the toilet seat. He picked me up and sat me down. He sat down next to me on the edge of the bathtub.
“I have to go,” he said, “People are getting suspicious and I need to hide this.” He showed no emotion.
“But don’t you think it’d be more suspicious to leave your wife and eleven kids with one on the way?” I shot back at him quickly.
“No one can know, though. I’m a robot, Hun. Get used to it,”
“You cold, cold person. Robots really don’t have hearts do they?”
He looked back at me and flinched. I knew that had gotten him.
“Goodbye,” he said.
“Wait,” I said sadly, “Where are you going?”
“Germany.”
“Why?”
“Not all robots are perfect like me. You see, only German robots and humans too, are perfect. Perfect skin. Perfect hair. Be careful. Don’t do anything that would harm the baby.” As soon as he was finished with his sentence, he left, closing the door behind him.
I put my head in my hands and cried. Did he really just leave? I asked myself.
“Mommy,” I heard from outside the door, “Where did Daddy go?”
I pulled myself to my feet and walked to the door. When I opened the door, I could see all eleven kids flooded in my room crying. I bent down and hugged them all.
“He went to his hometown,” I said quickly. “He’ll be back soon.”
“But, Mommy,” they all seemed to say at once.
“We will be okay. He’ll only be gone a few weeks. We can make it. Okay, okay, everyone up. Go wash your faces. Get ready for school. Come on.”
I followed them out of my room and into the kitchen. Five of them were around the sink trying to wash up at the same time. The rest were running around trying to get there last minute things done.
“Bus!”
The swarm of kids ran out of the kitchen and out the front door. I watched from the porch as they all pilled onto the once empty bus. As the bus drove off, I walked back into the house and quickly got dressed. I grabbed the keys off my dresser as I threw on my shoes.
I waddled outside and hopped into my truck cranking it up quickly. I keyed in “La Pull” into my GPS and waited on directions as I pulled out of our driveway.
As I drove down the street, I pulled my cell phone and dialed my father.
“Hello?” He answered after the second beep.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey. Something wrong?” He asked immediately.
“No, no. Nothing is wrong. Just, where does Bocaj live?”
“La Pull,” he replied.
“I know that,” I said, “But where in La Pull?”
“First house after the ‘Welcome to La Pull’ sign coming from the East.”
“Okay! Thanks. I have to go. Bye,” I said before hanging up the phone.
I turned the radio on to my favorite station, 10.12 F.M. and “I’ll Be” came blasting through the speakers.
I found Bocaj’s house without any problem. I guess I didn’t need the GPS. Right as I pulled up, he ran out to my car.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said as he opened my door. “Wow,” He said when he saw my stomach, “You’re pregnant.” He sighed. “Again.”
Bocaj was my friend from second grade and I knew whenever I needed something, he’d be glad to do it.
“You were alienated, weren’t you?” he asked as he walked me up the drive way.”
“How, do you, know?” I hesitated.
“I can’t say… Here.”
“Okay.”
We walked inside his house and walked down a flight of stairs to the basement.
“I am an alien,” he said.
“What?” I asked stunned by his bluntness.
“I am. So, how are you?”
“I’m good. I want to do something… Reckless.”
“But you are pregnant.”
“I know. I’m mad at Fredward and I want to get back at him by putting our baby in harm.”
“That makes no sense. But okay. I know something we can do.”
“What?” I asked intrigued.
“Follow me.”
He stood up and took my hand. He helped me up gently. As he led me through the basement, he didn’t let go of my hand.
“There,” he said as he pointed to two unused scooters.
“Let’s do it.”
“Okay,” he said as he picked them both up with one hand.
He led me back up the stairs and out the door.
He dropped one of the scooters and handed me the other.
“You know how to ride, right?”
“I have eleven, almost twelve kids. Of course I know.”
“Right,” he laughed to himself. “Follow me.”
He took off quickly and flew down the street.
“Hurry,” he called back.
We rode for an hour before we even got to somewhere reckless.
“Where are we?” I asked as I dodged a tree branch that fell through the air.
“Outskirts of La Pull. Never been down her?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Watch your head,” he said cautiously.
“I picked up on that,” I said as we reached a huge, downward hill.
“Can you handle it?”
Say no. Turn back now.
“Come on,” Bocaj said.
Don’t do it.
“I’m going to do this,” I told the voice in my head.
I asked you to be careful.
I pushed my foot against the ground and flew down the hill. The wind felt nice against my face.
I was enjoying the ride for more than just one reason. I was glad to see Bocaj again, for one. And I was glad to hear his voice.
I reached the end of the hill when a huge tree fell right across the road.
BAM!
November
December
January
February
March
April
I woke up to find myself in a hospital bed. Bocaj was sitting in the chair next to me sleeping. I pushed the nurse button and waited for a nurse to come in.
“Oh, my cousin! You’re up,” said the nurse as she came in. She was short with light, brown hair. “My name is Raylla.”
“Raylla?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Odd name, isn’t it? My mom liked ‘Rachel’ and my dad liked ‘Lela’ so they put it together and got ‘Raylla.’”
“Interesting,” I thought about Fredward. “What happened?”
“You hit your head. Scooters really are dangerous if you think about it. You and your baby are both healthy, so don’t worry. It’s January and you are due next month, right?”
I nodded.
“Good. You should be back in perfect health by then.”
I nodded again.
“Bocaj, I think, has been here everyday since you came. You are a very lucky girl to have him.”
I nodded out of confusion that time. Bocaj had a life he should have been living instead of spending all his time her.
“We got a call from a young lady named Alejandra saying that a certain Fredward was on his way to see you. Brother?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Oh, then,” she looked awkward, “Okay. The doctor will come in a minute to check things. We are glad you are up.”
“Bocaj!” I yelled as I threw my pillow at him.
“What? What?” he asked as he waved his arms in the air blocking the pillow.
“Fredward is on his way.”
“No, he isn’t,” he didn’t sound worried.
“The nurse-“
“-is wrong. Part of being an alien,” he said in a whisper, “is that I know what is about to happen. He isn’t coming. He is going to kill himself.” He looked at me sympathetically. “However a robot does that,” he said to himself.
“You know?”
“Honey,” he said as he took my hand, “I knew before he did.”
“Oh.”
“You going to go try to stop him?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Why not?”
I sighed. “He was a horrible husband. And father. Plus, the way you make me feel,” I trailed off.
He stood up out of his chair and lend over me. He looked at me in the eyes and lowered himself to me.
“Don’t make me come all the way,” he joked.
I leaned forward off the bed and landed on his soft, warm lips.
“Hey, now, watch it,” a tall, dark man said as he entered the room.
Bocaj stepped away from the bed and sat back down in the chair in the corner of the hospital room.
“Doctor?” I asked hopeful.
“Yes,” he said as he checked some charts.
“How are my kids? Where are they staying? Are they safe?” I asked in a panic.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” he answered calmly. “They are with Bocaj’s father. Just a few a miles away from here. Would you like to call them?”
“Please.”
I watched as the doctor left the room.
“Here,” Bocaj said as he handed me the phone from the corner of the room. “I dialed the number already.”
I took the phone and listened as the rings continued.
“Hello,” a voice from the other end answered.
“Honey!” I called, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, Mom. Calm down. Do you want us to come over?”
“Yes,” I sobbed into the phone, “Please.”
“We will be there in a second. Bye.”
I handed the phone back to Bocaj and watched him put it back on the receiver.
“They’ll be here in a minute,” I said to Bocaj.
“Good,” he replied.
We sat in silence as we waited on the kids on to arrive.

June…
“Little John,” I said as the nurse put my new born baby boy in my arms.
“Welcome to the family,” Bocaj said to John as he looked down at us.
“Family,” I said back, “is the most important thing in the world.”
Bocaj leaded over me and kissed me softly on my forehead then turned and did the same to John.

4/9 ((Sorry my poems don't have names))

The bitterness in the night
hits me like heavy metal.
No blanket can warm my soul.
I die my slow death.
To want what you can't have,
is childish and foolish.
I miss the sound of laughter in the air,
my laughter and your laughter together.
Together, you and me,
together sounds so nice.
But I am alone,
with my heart's empty hole.
The clostest thing to hold
is the music in my ears.
Tears fall down
and hit my knees.
Together will never be.

4/1

My hands are bruised,
my arms are cut,
and my back always aches.
Between the sighs and moans of everyday,
my heart becomes a hole.
Where you once stood,
your footprints stay forever.
While I still love, you love again.
Your vioce plays in my dreams,
and your face haunts my smile,
for I only smile when I see you.
Your name is like posion,
it runs through my body and I cringe.
But I long to hear it said.
You will forever be my Love.

4/1

I wondered into the woods to find a peice of mind.
I wondered to a place that no human knows.
It is my place now; a place only I know.
A place were you feel no sorrow or pain.
You slip and slide, but you never fall.
The red dirt collects the blood of those who pass,
so that no thorn will ever make you bleed.

I wondered to a plce where I learned,
I lreaned why the birds sing,
why the snake slivers,
why the bee stings.
I learned that in this land no one is unprotected.
I learned to lean again against a tree instead.
I learned no to lose confidence in me.

In this land, no one suffers or dies.
We live long, and we all prosper.
A hand does not callas.
A foot does not tear.
I travel farther everyday, deeper and deeper,
only to find myself right back at the beginning
to find myself wishing I could dissapear.

4/1

I sink into the ground,
the trees still breath,
no one saves me.

I catipult into the air,
the rock stays there,
no one saves me.

I fall to my kneews,
the ants still move,
no one saves me.

I lose my grip,
the water sits still,
no one saves me.

I yell out in need,
the bear still feeds,
no one saved me.

I pray to you my plead,
the grass still needs,
This time, God saves me.

4/1

I sit in a tunnel of darkness,
waiting on some kind of pain.
No matter who or where it comes from.
I just want to feel anything.
I reach out to people,
no to help or to hold,
but set myself up
to feel the pain I long for,
to feel the thorn slowly twist in my side.
I pick at the scabs
to bring back pain I never felt
to relive my greatest worst moments.
I lock myself in a cage,
not to restrict, but you restrain.
I sip my favorite posion,
I sink in my favorite state of numbness.
I no longer live to live,
but I live to die,
to feel my favorite feelings.
Emptiness, darkness, and numbness.

3/31

In a game of duck, duck, goose,
do you sit around waiting,
or get up and run?
Do you wait to get noticed,
or do you already stand out?
Are you bland and dull,
or colorful and bold?
I am untranslatable,
for I am a goose.
But you are translatable
because you are what they say you are.
I dance when you are still.
I skip when you walk.
I speak when you are silent.
And I find myself,
while you conform to your cosiety.
Where you are just another duck,
I am the great, graceful goose.

3/23

"Lauren!" someone yelled from across the school's hallway.
The long, bare hallway looked endless. I was sweating in a panic. I couldn't recognize who was calling or where the call was coming from.
"Lauren!" I heard again.
The voice was coming closer and closer.
"Lauren," it called, "Lauren!"
"Stop," I yelled back, "stop!"
"Lauren," I heard as a felt a tap on my shoulder.
"What the -" I started as I turned around. But before I was finished the halls went black. Silence fell over the baron hall and my body fell numbly to the ground.

I jumped back up. I nervously reached for my glasses on the bed side table and put them on in a hurry. I looked around the room quickly to see where I was. The breeze from my fan hit my face hard and the sweat on my forehead froze.
"Lauren," someone called from downstairs.
Who is that? I thought.
"Mom," I whispered to myself.
I pulled the covers back and slid out of my bed. I put one floor down against the cold, hardwood floor and immediately pulled back.
I sighed. I put my food down again and tiptoed to my dresser. I opened the top drawer and pulled out the first two socks I saw.
I hopped back over to my bed and sat down on the edge. I put the socks down beside me as I pulled my leg up and rested it on my knee. I grabbed the dirty, white sock from beside me and started to pull it onto my foot.
"Ouch," I jumped as something hit against my toes.
I pulled the sock off quickly and heaved my hand into it. I gripped the little box tightly and pulled it out.I couldn't believe that I had found it.
I dropped the sock out of sock and watched it fall to the floor. I opened the little brown box.
"Lauren" my mother called again, "You'll be late for school!"
"I'm coming," I yelled back.
The perfect, untouched locket laid just like it had five years ago when my father gave it to me before he left. I only wore it once because it was a painful reminder of his absence.I pulled it out of the box and opened the little heart shaped locket. Staring back at me was the last picture I had taken with my father.
Suddenly, I realized the voice in the dream was my father's. He had tried to get in touch with me after he left, but it only scared me.
Tears formed in my eyes and I quickly wiped them away with my free hand.
"What's that?"
I jumped. I turned around to find my mother had walked in my room.
"Oh," I started, "the locket Dad gave me."
"Oh," she sighed, "Come on, now. You'd better start getting ready for school."
"Okay," I said as she walked back out of my room.I put the locket back in it's box and threw it onto my bedside table.
"Next time," I said to it, "I'll throw you out of the window."

3/21

The dark room was crowded with silence
and the sun sent in some light.
Noise gets carried through
as moths fill in my room.
My heart sits empty
and my brian full of thoughts.
Your name taste sweeter then honey
and your face fills my sight.
Your voice carried through the darkness
as I wait on you.
If you never call,
I'll be forced to say goodbye.



That kind of sucks.

Peom With No Name

Once a month,a pain comes along
that no man understands
and girls wish was gone.
Misleading thoughts and awful stares
as you walk down the street
in your underwear.
Let's go down to Doo Doo Falls,
and watch as water turns to mud.
Never look back, but always move forward
to the place where the sidewalk ends.
Jump off a cliff,
or out of a plane,
but as you land,
paint the sky grey.
Stand in the rain without protection;
It'll hide your tears and your pain.
Never believe you know everything,
because once you do, things'll change.
Like Presidents and Pluto,
nothing ever stays.
Confide in your friends, parents or God,
your shrink never knows best.
Never us 'alas,' 'chipper,' or 'frankly'
because that's too old school for us.
Ignore this poem,for it has no meaning.
It's merely for fun and believing.
Travel to a land unknown and make it known.
Stick a flag in the ground and call it your own.
Leave your footprints in the sand,
and have a picnic with a caveman.
It's not about your birth,
but about your death and how you died.
Act in a play or sing an old song,
you can even do the dance of the cucumber.
Mail a letter or paint your wall,
but don't forget about Paul.
This poem is too long and I'm about to retire.
In fact, I can have my cake and eat it too,
because I'm the cat's meow and the dog's tuxedo.

Wife

It’s been two years since we were together.
Taken away at graduation, then to the army.
Late night texts kept up in touch,
But I longed to hear your voice.
Your face is carved into my memory,
And your build forever in my heart.
The nights we spent together replay in my mind,
Together or apart, you’ll always be mine.
But shocking news came my way,
And I found out my heart still hurts.
Newly wed and coming home,
You left me in a room full of dread.

Rage

Nothing in the world is more calming than rage.
It builds inside you and kills your soul.
Gives you time to think as you sink to the ground.
Voices in your head blend to one.
It sends to a lone room, starring at a blank wall.
Lyrics run through your head as you calm yourself down.
Life becomes clearer and things eventually resolve.
Let time run it’s course, then get back on the horse.

Popular

I don't know if you've ever listened to Wicked, but one of the songs in Wicked is "Popular." See, one character is trying to change the other character to make her more 'beautiful' or 'pretty' well, just trying to get her to fit in so they could hang out and she wouldn't be embarassed by her green friend. Now, I hope that if you had any of a childhood, you watched Grease at least once in your life. At the end of Grease, Sandy and Danny switch places in a way. She changes to the hot biker babe and he changes to a jock. But, I believe that no one should change for anyone. And I am glad that God accepts everyone just the way they are. He doesn't care if you are red, yellow or blue; gay, straight or bi; short, tall or somewhere in the middle. He loves us all the same. So, don't change yourself for anyone no matter who it is, because God wants you to be yourself one hundred percent.

Temtations

It's 47 days into 2009. Forty-eight short days ago, we were all making our New Year's resolution as we watched the clock hit twelve. Mine is to once again give up all caffinated drinks. I don't know what yours is, or was, but have you broken it yet? In Avenue Q there are these two puppets called the Bad Idea Bears. They are cute and talk in really high pitched vioces and they just look hugable. But there purpose isn't really sweet. Everytime one of the characters would come face to face with a problem or situation, POP! The Bad Idea Bears would show up steering them in the wrong direction. For me, one of my favorite lines in the whole play was "Take her home! She's wasted! YAY!!!" Spoken by none other than the Bad Idea Bears. Notice how they said yay when Princeton took her home. However, everytime a character did the right thing, they would get sad. In that sense, these bears are like the Devil. He always shows up when we are faced with important decisions. He gets really happy when you consider going along with it, but then when you turn away and do the right thing, he is dissapointed. But hey, that shouldn't matter because when you turn away from the Devil, God is celebrating. He is shouting, "Yay!" We shouldn't have to think about what we need to do. We should follow God in everything we do. Just remember, the closer to God you are, the more the Devil is going to show up. He's going to try to bring you down to his level, but don't let him. Rise above him and keep following God. It's part of our walk of faith. Or, leap of faith really. God bless.

Mixed Devotion.

How can you connect in an age when strangers, landlords, lovers, your own blood cells betray?



Without having to think, I was able to rattle off that line from Jonathon Larson's hit rock opera, RENT. As a matter of fact, I can hear one word, doesn't matter what word, and I can finish it off with lyrics from RENT. For the past three years I have studied, listened and read anything about RENT that I could be my hands on. But then again, for the past three years, something has been missing. I've realized that once again in my life I have wandered away from God. Now, since I am a preacher's kid, I know that He is with me always, but since I have strayed I don't feel His love. And recently, I realized that maybe the reason I have strayed was because I devoted all my time to studying something else besides Him. I realized that if I had devoted that same time and engery maybe He and I would be closer. Instead of using my time to seek Him, I was busy in my own little world singing lyrics from a play. But instead I should've been reading His work, following His footprints, and reading about His past. I should've taken my time to turn off my iPod and pray. Or maybe I should've put down the script and read the Bible, after all, that is the best book out there. Now, all that time learning and studying about RENT had paid off in the fact that I get to see RENTat the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center July 7, 7:30 P.M. Seat C9. =] But learning about God can benifit me more than RENT, I believe. I just thought I should post this blog so that you may remember what is important in your life and what makes you WHOLE.

Lost Sheep

Everyone has heard the story of the lost sheep, right?
Well, in my case, it's the lost puppy.
When I was about five or so, my brother, my mom and I went to North Carolina on a business trip during July. It wasn't the first time we had gone on that trip, it was maybe about the second or third time.
I don't remember anything about this trip except for the day we left. My mom woke me up early and since I'm not a morning person, I let her and Steven pack all my stuff. Once the car was packed and we were checked out of the hotel, my mom picked me up out of my bad and carried me to the car.
I slept for about another two or three hours in the back seat while Mom and Steven were in the front talking. I woke up and started to look around the back seat for my stuffed animal, Rover. He was red and had a big nose. Everyone that ever saw him said that he was Cliffard, but sure enough, he isn't.
But I couldn't find him so I asked my mom where he had gone. In about three seconds she went into a state of panic almost. She looked at Steven bugged eyed. I knew something was wrong. She told me that she didn't know where he was but we would search the suitcases and the trunk the next time we stopped. He wasn't there.
See, my mom was in such a rush that morning that she forgot to dig for him in the covers before she pulled me to the car. I couldn't believe she left the single most important thing at the hotel.
I spent the whole ride home sulking in the back seat. My mom tried to make it up to me in so many ways.
When we got home, she called the hotel. The cleaning crew had found Rover between the sheets and they said that they would mail him back to us.
A week later, I finally got him back. Just in time for my birthday.

To this day I still sleep with my stuffed animal. It's my blankey, only better. It was my lost puppy that we waited for. And now looking back at this, I realize that God waited on me for a year.

It was my 8th grade year. I had two friends that I ate lunch with, and personally, I didn't like one of them. I hated every previous moment that had happened in middle school and I had fallen into a state of depression. I ended up drifting so far from God that year that I was practically ashamed to call myself a preacher's kid.
That Martin Luther Kind Jr. weekend changed my whole life though. We had gone up to our church camp with the young group for the Behold weekend.

Let me say something about that camp, first. I've known that place like the back of my eye lids my whole life. No matter what age I was, I felt closer to God at that camp then any church I have ever steped foot in. I still feel that way today.

When we arrived to camp, I wasn't sure if that weekened would do anything for me. But, Friday ended and Saturday began. That Saturday night was what changed my life. During the worship service, the speaker talked about a man in a dungeon who only ate so much and only saw light for a breif moment of time. But he descibed this man's journey out of the dungeon. How the light became brighter as he traveled further out. Everything the speaker said was me. It was like he was talking to me and no one else. My best friend and I cried our eyes out that night. During the songs "Here I am to Worship" and "Open the Eyes of my Heart, Lord," I felt like I was coming out of my own dungeon. God accepted me back into his kingdom.

I was mailed back home.

That camp means the world to me. I have rededicated my life to God at that camp, watched my friend dedicate her life to God at that camp, and this back MLK weekend, I answered a call to ministry at that camp. No word can express how any of that feels.
That moment in time is ingraved in my brain. I'll never forget how it felt. Everytime those songs come through my headphones, they bring tears to my eyes.

I can tell this story a lot better in person, so ask me about it. But don't be scared if I cry. I don't usually cry when I tell stories, I use hand motions and use sound effects and wacked out facial expressions, but that story takes my breath away as I remember the reason I live today. I'm a better person now, and I owe it to who ever came up with Behold weekend. And of course, my God.

Goodbye, Love

I stood alone at his grave as the rain poured down over his casket. My tears were now invisible, hidden in the rain. I stood alone looking at the new dirt and tombstone. My black dress clinged to my waist and mascara blackened my face.
The thunder was violet and loud. I streched my arms out from my sides and raised my head to the heavens. The rain drops hit my face as I closed my etes to go back to a better time...

It was a hot, July day and I was seventeen. A few of my friends and I had snuck into the Around the Clock Cafe for a few drinks.
There was a band playing on the stage that no one was paying attention to. But in the midst of a guitar solo, the guitarist caught me eye. The neon lights were glowing across the stage highlighting his sharp jaw line. He kept the solo going, but it went from a hard, rock solo to a solf, calm luliby.
He stopped. the band looked at him confused but followed his lead. Silence fell over the but no one seemed to notice but me.
Two years later, engaged and in college, I watched him die. I'll never forget the way his voice sounded as he said "I love you" and took my hand as God took his life.

Some randomness for you.

I woke up today with a problem. I am at a fork in the road. Three directions, two guys, and one heart. Either way I go, there are memories I will live with for the rest of my life. If I go down one road, the single road, then I have the memories of what it is like to 'play the field' or 'look around.' If I go down road two, the long distance road, then I'll have the memories of what it was like when he was here. Then there is road three, the continue down the path I'm walking road, in which I will have 5 months of memories to hold with me when the road gets dark. Either road will be great. But either way someone will get hurt. Either this or that or those..... I'll never know. But hey, either way I have my people who got my back, right? Don't do drugs, okay? I can't control what'll happen on the road I go down, but I can control the road I go down.

Blur

You get to a point in your life where you want to know what is going to happen next but you don't want to do anything to get there. A point where you either go down this road or go down that road. A point where you need to figure out if you want to be with the guy over there or the guy you already have. A point where life is a blur. Maybe the blur isn't the problem. Maybe the problem is that we don't know what to do in the blur.

In the blur you have to live. Live for now, today, this moment in time is only going to happen once, so enjoy it while you have it. Don't worry about what happened yesterday, or the day before that. Don't plan out tomorrow or make list of things to do the next day. Seize the day. Follow your heart. Keep following the path you are on even if you can't see around the bend. You gotta go after the things you want while you're still in your prime. Whether you're old, new, yellow, or blue... Live for today because tomorrow never comes.

Without

without friends,
life is worthless.
without love,
life is plain.
without family,
life is dull.
and without God,
life isn't life anymore.

Lost Soul

As the cold night turned light, I wake up to a loud bang from the kitchen. I slowly got up and followed the noise. A strange man, a tall man, almost bald, was looking through the fridge and the front door was busted in. Strangely everyone else in the house was still asleep. The man looked at me and started to talk. "You know, I haven’t always been this way. I used to have a house, a family."
I was still scared, so I didn’t answer. Finally I managed to say, "What are you doing in my house? In my fridge?"
The old man stood there in silence. A sandwich in one hand and a glass of water in the other.
"Will you please leave or I'll call the cops"
Still no response. It was like I was talking to a wall. Then he sat down at the table and ate.
He said, "Please join me! You remind me off my son, before he was taken away from me."
"What happened? I mean why'd he get taken away?"
"It was 3 years ago. He was just about your age. We were homeless, poor, no money. He was taken away because I started drinking. I've never seen him since"
"Aw. I’m sorry. Are you still......you know, the.......?"
"I'm proud to say ‘No’ I quit when they took him away. I was on my way to find him when I got too hungry to walk any farther so I came here to eat."
"Oh, okay. Well looks like your all finished here." I was in a hurry to get him out of the house.
"Yeah I guess I am. Thanks for the food."
He got up slowly, and sadly walked to the door. As he walked trough the door I slowly got up and started to walk back to my room. Then I noticed he dropped something. I picked it up, and it was a chain necklace. It was a locket. I opened it up to reveal a picture of the man and his son. As I looked at the picture, I noticed he looked oddly familiar. Then it hit me. I knew exactly who and where his son was.
As I looked at the perfect smile, I started to cry. One by one the tears started to roll down my face. I was horrified. I couldn’t move or think. So I just sat there and waited till morning.

New and IMPROVED Twilight

I was dreading the plane ride to Waterloo. The idea of living with my father was frightening. No matter how ‘awesome’ he tried making Waterloo, I still didn’t want to go. The rain poured against the airport’s window as I watched the plane pull up into the terminal. The loudspeaker called for flight 718: my flight. I grabbed my bag and ticket and got up to leave. I stood in silence as I boarded the plane and found my seat. I stared at the empty seat next to me until it was filled by an overweight middle aged man.
The flight felt like it lasted more than three hours. I was asleep for at least two of those hours and was awakened by the landing. I looked out the window as we came to a stop. Home. I exited the plane without any excitement. I finally found Dad as I walked to baggage claim. He had somehow already found all three of my suitcases and loaded them onto a cart. He ran and gave me a hug as soon as he saw me.
“Hey, Darlin’,” he said as let me go.
“Hey, Dad, how are you?”
“I’m good. And how’ve you been, lately?”
I forced a smile as I started pushing the cart towards the exit. “I’ve been good.”
“Good,” he smiled and nodded his head.
We walked in silence until we got into the car and drove off.
“I enrolled you in Waterloo High School. You start tomorrow. Hope you don’t mind,” he said trying to make small talk.
“Great.” I said, “School is….great,” I said hesitantly.
He nodded his head and kept trying. I guess he picked up on the fact that I wasn’t into the small talk crap. When we got home, he threw my suitcases into the room I used to stay in while I was younger. The walls were now a faded pink and pictures of flowers filled the shelf. I ignored the past and focused on settling in.
“You gonna eat super?” Dad called from down stairs.
“No,” I called back with as much energy as I could find. I unpacked my PJs, toothbrush, toothpaste, and retainer and went into the bathroom. I got ready for bed as quickly as I could and jumped into the bed. I was not looking forward to school tomorrow.
The next morning I woke up about thirty minutes too early. I walked down stairs and found Dad sitting alone reading the paper. He didn’t acknowledge my presence. I could tell he wasn’t used to having someone else living in the same house. I grabbed a bagel out of the bag and walked back upstairs to get ready. After I was ready to leave, I grabbed my book bag and headed back down stairs. Dad had already left, but there was a note and keys on the table. “Here are the keys to your new old truck.”
‘New Old?’ I thought to myself. As I walked outside I realized what he meant by a new old truck. It was a 1962 Ford Ranchero. Chipped, dull red paint and tired that looked older than me. I threw my book bag in the truck’s tail bed cautiously. I shoved the key into the door and unlocked it. I got in my new old truck and looked around. At least he had a CD player installed, I thoughts as I started the car.
I drove to school listening to the first radio station I found. I was going to have to find my CDs before the day was over. I pulled into the school as people in the parking lot stared. The new girl. I sat in the car and watched people walk by. As soon as the bell rang, I got out of the car and grabbed my book bag. I noticed a guy coldly staring off into space. Then I realized he was looking at me. I ignored him and walked into the school and headed to the office.
They gave me my schedule and pointed me in the direction of my first block class: Advanced English 11. As I walked through the classroom door, everybody looked up. I noticed that the only empty seat was next to the guy that was staring at me earlier. I took my seat quietly and pulled my binder out of my bag. I felt the guy’s eyes cutting into my head like a laser. I turned to him and he looked my right in the eyes.
“Do you need something,” he asked coldly.
I hesitated. “A pencil.”
He handed me his. His skin was ice-cold as it rubbed against mine. His eyes were dark. No color. Almost like something supernatural. “You’re new.”
“Thanks for pointing that out,” I replied as I tried to catch up in the notes.
“No new kid should go the day without meeting someone.” He held out his hand. Apparently I was supposed to shake it. “I’m Fredward.”
“Fredward?” I asked as I shook his hand nicely.
“Yes. See, my mom likes the name Fred and my dad likes the name Edward. They had to meet in the middle somehow.”
“Ah,” I nodded my head, “I see.”
For what seemed like hours, we just sat there and stared at each other. I didn’t notice what was going on until someone taped on my back. I turned to look at a group of people staring down at me. I turned back to Fredward, but he was already out the door.
“Hey,” one of the girls said. “I’m Jessica. This is Jack, Lisa, Alison and John.”
I looked at them confused.
“We would like you to join us for lunch,” Jessica said with too much excitement.
I was still thinking about Fredward as I packed my bag and left with them.
“Hey,” Lisa said as we were walking down the hall. “How’d you get Fredward to talk? He hasn’t said a word to anybody except the teacher this whole semester.”
“Um…I’m not sure. I just asked to borrow a pencil.”
“Oh,” Lisa sounded disappointed.
“Why doesn’t he talk?” I asked curiously.
“No one knows. Him and his brothers and sisters just kinda skim through the halls. No one really pays them any attention anymore unless faced with them. They are weird.”
I nodded.
We reached the lunch room and found a place to sit. I spotted Fredward and who I guessed were his brothers and sisters. They were all a little too pale. Beautiful hair, almost like a wig. They were not talking. Or eating. They all just sat there and looked at the wall.
After lunch, he found me as I was walking towards my next class.
“Listen,” he said.
“What’s up?”
“I’m just gonna cut to the chase.”
“Which is?”
He looked deeply into my eyes as if he was staring into my soul. “Something is going on between us. I can tell. Don’t believe me? Trust me. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven.”
I nodded my head in approval and went to class.
The next day, I counted down until seven o’ clock. I told Dad that I was just going to the mall to buy some new clothes. Fredward picked me up at exactly seven. I was amazed. I hoped into the car with a smile on my face. He started the car and slowly backed out of the driveway.
“You like going slow?” he asked.
“Not at all,” I replied.
“Good.” As he said it, he slammed the gas petal down. We were going 70 in the neighborhood’s 35 zone. I guess he really likes going fast, I thought.
We pulled up to an empty lot that I have never seen before. I didn’t recognize where we were or how we got there. We sat in the car looking at each other in silence. I looked at him confused. “Where are we?”
“Tuscaloosa.”
“Tuscaloosa?!”
“I drove really fast so the drive wasn’t as long,” he said with a laugh.
“I noticed.” I looked at him, “Why do you not eat?” I asked bluntly.
He looked surprised at the unexpected question.
“Can’t really.”
“Why not? Can good guys not eat?”
“What if I’m the bad guy?”
“What are you?”
“You know what I am. Go ahead and say it.”
He looked at me quietly. “A robot,” I responded.
He lightly kissed me and my knees buckled. He stepped back. “I can’t do this,” he said with sadness in his eyes.
“Why not?”
He leaned closer to me again. “All a robot every wants is to computerize a human’s brain. Turn them into one of us.”
“Is that all you ever wanted with me? Just to turn me into…a robot?”
He looked at me alarmed.
“Well?”
“NO!” he shook his head quickly.
“I love you too much. You are my life now.”I smiled and looked at him in silence.
“Just one thing,” he added, “There are aliens…”
I looked at him and chuckled.
“This is serious.”
“Of course it is,” I said with a laugh.
“Aliens hunt to kill. As apposed to robots who just computerize our prey.”
“And this affects me how?”
He looked at me and kissed me softly. “There is an alien at our school who has had his eyes on you.”
“I’m….in danger?”
He must have known that I was kind of freaked out because he looked at me and said, “No. You are my life now. I will protect you.”
I had barely noticed the radio still on. Flight of the Concords was playing over the local radio station. I leaned back against the seat. My life had just gotten three times more complicated then it had ever been.
“I have to protect you,” Fredward said.
Right then, there was a loud thump on the top of his car. He told to me stay in the car while he got out to make sure everything was okay.
I heard a few punches and screams as I sat there waiting. Before I l knew it, Fredward was thrown on top of the hood. I jumped when he hit the windshield hard. I threw the door open to find John standing over Fredward with a fist raised in the air.
“STOP!” I yelled unexpectedly.
They looked both looked at me instantly. I froze as John leaped out at me. Fredward cried out and jumped after him. Fredward caught John’s leg and John and Fredward both feel faces first into the hard concrete. John broke free of Fredward’s grip and ran fast. He had me pinned down and I couldn’t move to fight back. I started to get dizzy as a slow pain as if I was on fire spread throughout my body.

Black.

I awoke to find that I was in a hospital bed. Fredward was in the chair next to my bed looking like he was about to cry. We were alone.
“You can’t cry either, can you?”
He looked up at me. “No.”
“What happened?”
He looked at me and took hold of my hand. “He attacked you.”
I was confused. “What’s that even mean?”
“He turned you into an alien.”
I shot up from my bed in a panic. “WHAT?!” I yelled loudly.
“Don’t worry,” he said as he made me lie back down. “I reversed the affect by computerizing your brain.” He looked down at my hand in his.
“Does that mean that I am a robot now?”
He shook his head.



Ten years later…

I was pregnant with my twelfth kid and happier than ever. Fredward and I lived on the outskirts of town in a nice house. Fredward and I both had become teachers and were working hard to keep up with the bills. The recession hit us hard, but we were both thankful that Bush was leaving office.