Writing About A Boy

Kids are cruel...

Never a truer sentence has been spoken. Beneath the small loveable outside, the majority of them are demons. They are always straightforward about exactly what they think. They have no filter or respect of anyone's feelings. I believe more children are bullied in middle and elementary school than in high school. While the lack of a filter can be cute, it can also be menacing. Little kids are so blunt and not afraid to speak the truth that a lot of times they can offend someone. Words like "fat," "stupid," or "idiot" are thrown around in elementary school without a care at the victim. It gets even worse in middle school when people get more creative with their insults. Middle school is probably one of the worst times in most people's life as far as trying to be "cool" and not excluded. My seventh grade brother is on the football team and truly believes this fact makes in ten thousand years cooler than anyone else in his grade... not to mention both of his high school brothers. Kids are also very sensitive so when some children insult others, it is very easy for them to get their feelings hurt. All in all, I believe that children are some of the meanest, inconsiderate people on this planet earth.

P.S. I was actually not bullied in my early years so don't get the wrong idea. I love kids.

If...

If you had to name the most embarrassing moment in your life, what would it be?

It is quite hard to pinpoint one moment that was especially embarrassing or more embarrassing than the rest. In fact, I make it my life's goal to cause embarrassing or awkward moments. It is very hard to make me feel embarrassed because I do such a good job myself. I hardly ever feel "embarrassed." One moment that I remember was once on a family vacation in Dallas. I just purchased a new pair of suspenders at the mall and my brother was embarrassed. He asked my mom why I always insist on embarrassing myself. I clarified with him that I don't embarrass myself because I don't get embarrassed. In reality, I haven’t really had any embarrassing moments but I have caused other people embarrassing moments.

 

A second embarrassing moment is when I took the wrong journal on the walk that we did and I wrote all of my creative writing stuff in a different notebook and had to put paperclip the pages into my journal. It made me very sad because I didn't want to rewrite all of my things into my other journal. My whole life is just one awkward moment after another.

 

Besides embarrassing moments my life is full of awkward moments. It seems the awkward and weird people are drawn to me because they think I want to be with my own kind. Once I was picking out a mother's day card for my mom and this creepy guy came up and asked me how old I was. I told him I was sixteen and he walked away and muttered "Oh..." It was an "oh" like "Oh... too bad that's not legal." It was rather awkward and frightening at the same time.

 

 

 

12/2 (Lyrics and Places)

1.       Reality is a lovely place, but I wouldn’t want to live there. (The Real World by Owl City).

2.       I don’t care. I love it. (I Love It by Icona Pop)

3.       La la la, Whatever. La la la, Doesn’t matter. La la la, oh well. La la la. (Tonight, Tonight by Hot Chelle Rae)

4.       I’m bleeding out, it’s the last thing that I do. So bring me down. I’m bleeding out for you. (Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons)

5.       Restistirme imposible sera. De la manera como lo hace ninguna lo hara. (Irrestistible by Wisin y Yandel).

6.       Gold teeth, grey goose, tripping in the bathroom. Bloodstains, ball gowns, trashing the hotel room. We don’t care, we’re driving Cadillacs in our dreams. (Royals by Lorde)

7.       And though the truth may vary this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore. (Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men)

8.       Say what you wanna say. And let the words fall out. Honestly I WANNA SEE YOU BE BRAVE. (Brave by Sara Barelles.)

9.       I don’t know about you but I’m feeling 22. (22 by Taylor Swift).

10.   All the other kids with the pumped up kicks you betta run betta run faster than my gun. (Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People)

11.   That gun is loaded but it’s not in my hand. The fire burns I’m not the one with the match lit. (Red Hands by Walk off the Earth).

12.   Cause I got some intuition that maybe I’m superstitious but I think you’re a pretty sweet pill that I’m swallowing down. (Love Like Woe by The Ready Set).  

1.       Italy with Kendall and Lauren and Jeffrey

2.       London/ Harry Potter Studio with Elizabeth and Katie

3.       Spain with Kendall and Jennifer Lawrence

4.       Japan with Tim and Dad

5.       The moon with Shay and Kendall

6.       All 50 states with my family

7.       The dark streets of Mexico City with Desiree and Benedict Cumberbatch

8.       Little Cabin in the Woods with Little man and little rabbit

9.       The Hunger Games with Desiree and Jared

10.   Ireland with Kendall, Lauren, and Jeffrey

11.   France with Allie and Jeffrey

12.   Narnia with Kendall and Jeffey

Food Memory

My favorite food memory is probably about Christmas, however not on the actual holiday. The best food of this time of year is not on Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, or even the snacks on New Year's Eve. The best food is on one of those nights in early December when my whole family stays home and helps set up our decorations and the tree. We spend the morning doing the outdoor lights and some of the other Christmas decorating. The afternoon we spend making all kinds of delicious snacks and desserts. Many different kinds of brownies, cookies, puppy chow, chips,  pigs in a blanket, pickle roll ups (a bread and butter pickle rolled up in a piece of salami... It's better than it sounds), sometimes salsa or guacamole, BBQ wings, pizza rolls, and many other snacks. That night, after the food is prepared we get out the tree and all of the ornaments and we snack and decorate the tree together. It is a wonderful time that we spend together and I will cherish those memories forever. Since we have moved to Springfield and moved in with our grandparents, they have also joined my family in our tree decorating ceremony of food. Many more dishes were added to the list of pleasantly unhealthy snacks. On Christmas and Thanksgiving we have certain foods that we like to eat but the menu changes from year to year. Some of my favorites are sweetpotato casserole. It is full of marshmallows and carmal sauce, which is basically a warm up for dessert. Christmas is the only time of year I eat green beans, which are in a green bean casserole. On thanks giving I prefer ham over turkey, but I can eat turkey if it is moist enough. However, none of these traditional holiday foods can stand a chance against snack night while setting up the tree. For these reasons, my favorite memories of food during the holidays have to do with the actual preparing for the holidays and not on the holiday itself.

Movie Preferences

Favorite Movie: Hunger Games, Now You See Me, Lord of the Rings

Dislikes: I don't usually like movies that are very scary or horror films. I'm too much of a wimp for that kind of stuff.

I don't usually watch movies very often. I sometimes watch movies with my family or friends. I never just sit down to watch a movie by myself.

FOR MOVIE VIEWING: Snacks, friends, popcorn, a television, candy, family, other snacks, an entertaining movie, food, a comfy chair, chocolate, and snacks.

The survey told me that I primarily watched movies for socialization and to feel good. I suppose those both fit me quite well, since I rarely ever watch a movie alone. I was surprised I did not score higher on the escapism factor, which means I watch lots of fantasy or science fiction movies that are "out of this world." Like my favorite books, movies have to have a sense of surrealism.

Photograph Writing

Prose:

 

I’m here for the inspiration. Out in these fields behind my house I can find my place in this world. There is inspiration around me. Everywhere I look is an idea, a thought, a story. Writing just feels right to me. I can forget about everything and just be me. I don’t have to worry about other people judging me, because behind the pen, no one knows who I really; I am a creator. I look down at the typewriter in front of me and read what I’ve written so far. “Here it’s safe… and here it’s warm…” Out in these fields, I can escape from the worries of my home. Here I can finally be happy.

 

Poem:

 

I’m here for the inspiration,

There is inspiration around me,

I can find my place in this world,

Out in these fields behind my house,

 

Everywhere I look is an idea,

A thought,

A story.

 

Behind the pen

I am a creator.

I can forget about everything

And just be me.

Out in these fields, I can escape from the worries of my home.

 

I don’t have to worry about other people judging me,

Because no one knows who I really am

Writing just feels right to me.

 

I look down

At the typewriter in front of me

And read what I’ve written so far.

 

Here it’s safe…

And here it’s warm…

 

Here I can finally be happy.

Photo Writing

This is...
General Goldman, a veteran of the Civil War.
Wrinkled face and dim eyes hiding the inner pain,
Staring intently into the large camera.
His dark hair and dark beard hide his once young and lively face.
Dressed up in his Sunday clothes, ready to attend the funeral of his good friend.

This is...
A man who has experienced great loss.
Suffering and remembering the deaths of his young friends.
Lonely, haunted by images of death and war.

Children's Story

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by,

Knocking at my door.

 

"Help me! Help me! Help!" he said.

"For the hunter shoots me dead."

Little rabbit come inside,

Safely to abide.

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Protecting from the not so good.

The smells of pine and apple pie

Hidden in the woods.

 

Follow the path and you'll find

Rest for legs and peace of mind

Come right in, yes you should

Little cabin in the woods.

 

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Wrinkles on his weathered face

And hat upon his head.

 

Watching, waiting for a sign

He wants a friend to share the time

Always lonely, the truth it is

Will you be a friend of his?

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by.

With whiskers on his face.

 

Nose is pink and eyes are black.

With soft brown fur up on his back.

The cutest thing you'll ever see.

Once you see him, you'll agree.

 

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by.

Knocking at my door.
 

"Did the rabbit knock?" I ask.

"Or was it the man in the mask?"

I see the hunter, there he stands,

Rabbit in his hands.

 

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by,

Knocking at my door.
 

"Help me! Help me! Help!" he said.

"Or I just might lose my head!

Up on the wall it goes!

Where the rest is no one knows!"

 

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by,

Knocking at my door.
 

"Help me! Help me! Help!" he said.

"For the hunter shoots me dead."

Little rabbit, come right in!

To see the light within.

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by,

Knocking at my door.
 

"Help me! Help me! Help!" he said.

"For the hunter shoots me dead."

Little rabbit come inside.

In the cabin, you can hide.

Little cabin in the woods.

Little man by the window stood.

Saw a rabbit hopping by,

Knocking at my door.
 

"Help me! Help me! Help!" he said.

"For the hunter shoots me dead."

Little rabbit come inside,

Safely to abide.

Sneetches

TITLE: Sneetches
AUTHOR: Dr. Seuss
IS THERE AN AUTHOR'S BIO? No.
COVER: Large words that say "The Sneetches on a solid blue background with green grass on the bottom. Two Sneetches walk proudly on the ground."
PAGES: 25

Characters: Mr. McMonkey McBean, Star-Belly and Plain-Belly Sneetches
Setting: On the Sneetch beach.
Summarize: Sneetches were segregation each other. McBean comes to "solve" but ends up stealing their money.

DOES THIS BOOK...
Have animals? No.
Use rhyme? Yes.
Teach a lesson? Yes.
Have monsters or creatures? Yes.
Have kids? No.
Have adults? No.
Use humor? Yes.
Have illustration? Yes.
Use color? Yes.
Use actual photos? No.
Have a more sentimental/ lovey tone? No.
Lots of words per page? No.
One word or phrase repeated throughout? No.

Favorite line: "When every last cent of their money was spent, the fix-it-up chappie packed up and went."

What ages is this book appropriate for? ALL OF THE AGES.

Is this a book you would have liked? ABSOLUTELY!

If life was a game...

8. When I was younger I got along with my family fairly well. There are always some kinds of sibling rivalry and living with siblings that causes some fighting. Generally I’d say I got along with them okay. Getting along with my parents has never been an issue too much. I’m a relatively good kid and my parents never really fight about anything major. The things that start the most conflict between my parents and me are the little things. “Oh, you got all A’s? Good.” “Oh, you finished your college applications? Good.” “Oh, you left your sock on the floor? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? YOU ARE TEARING THIS FAMILY APART!” It is certainly not that extreme but that is the general idea. As far as getting along with my other relatives I do pretty much all the time. Times spent with cousins are among my favorite memories from childhood. On my mom’s side of the family we take regular trips almost annually to a variety of places. These vacations are some of my favorite childhood memories.

15. My childhood was basically one big game. From playing imaginary games with Legos or stuffed animals to playing outdoor games with cousins and friends and board games and card games with the whole family, I was a huge gamer. My brothers and I used to be really into Legos and this thing called “Imaginex.” Obviously with Legos we could craft all kinds of marvelous adventures for our Lego people and have a grand ol’ time with them. Imaginex had pieces you could use to build castles, forts, wizard towers, among other things. You would buy one set, the wizard tower for example, and it would come with all the things necessary for a wizard. Then you could mix and match certain pieces to build entirely new creations. We had elaborate story lines full of vampires, knights, dragons, pirates, wizards, witches, and other wonderful things. I distinctly remember a certain red vampire who was the most powerful creature of all. If he was a good guy on a certain day, the good guys were certainly going to be victorious. However, if his actions were swayed towards the evil side, then evil would certainly have a fighting chance. Another imagination game my brothers and I liked to play in our younger years was with the stuffed animals we had. This may not sound as boyish as the other two but this was certainly just as fun. We had certain stuffed animals that were repeat characters on whatever we did. They went to relatively normal places such as the mall, school, or a sports game as well as other imagined places such as Hogwarts, a castle, a space station, and various movie sets. Many of them were Webkinz (stuffed animals that come with a code to enter online and have a virtual pet) or Build-a-Bears. We had the athletes, (Keegan the Kangaroo, Thet the Dog, Yadi the Dolphin, and Skip the Manatee) the nerds, (Snickerdoodle the Leopard, Sunshine the Tiger, and Pillow the Pig) the bullies, (Balto the Husky and Tyler the Dalmatian) and of course the fat ones that just wanted to eat all day (Tyger and Tyger Jr. the Elephants, Twix the Muskrat, and Happy Cupcake the Bear). Our cousins also had many stuffed animals and together we had various adventures with them. Also, with our cousins we played many outdoor games and ‘circle’ games. These games consisted of Mafia, Honey If You Love Me, Grandma’s Big Fat Toe, Color, Signs, some game about animals; I forget what it’s called; and many others. Due to the fact that I’ve already written well over three hundred words in just the answer to this question, I will abstain from going into the details of the rules of these games. We also enjoyed playing many board games and card games and my family is still very big into all kinds of board and card games. Perhaps the most intense is Riskopoly (for the entire set of rules click here): a mix of Risk and Monopoly that is sure to take ages to finish and crush friendships. This game is a cutthroat peak into what it is like to be a leader of a worldwide empire. Hand and Foot is always a favorite to play with my grandparents, but pretty much any card game is high on their list. Anyway, I suppose that’s about all. As you can see, it is quite evident that my childhood revolved around games. One last item of note is that there was not a single video game mentioned here as I didn’t even know they existed until well into middle school.

RESPONSE: Halloween Stories

JORDAN:

Satisfyingly creepy. I really appreciated the main character and his general creepiness when he killed the wife.

CARISSA:

Very well written and easy to follow. Love the plot twists! Well done.

TRISTAN:

Although his story was not finished I read some of his other Halloween themed things and I LOVED THEM. Really disappointed I won't get to read it. I'll have to come back!

ME:

My Halloween plans consist of driving to my other grandparents house because I have a college visit tomorrow at Truman State. Zero festivities going on in my life.

We All Live in a Yellow Submarine

I wasn’t alone. I’m never alone anymore. I first saw that man at the mall. I was at the food court with my best friend Ashlin when I caught him staring at me. I’d felt it for a while, his stares on the back of my neck. Always watching. Even through his sunglasses I could tell he was watching me. 

Ever since that day at the mall I’ve been careful not to be alone. I’ve seen the movies. I know when people get kidnapped. I even told my mom I thought someone was watching me. She rolled her eyes and said her usual “You just want attention, Lily,” before returning to her sixth or seventh bottle of beer that night; she’s lost count by this point.

The scariest part is I don’t know how he finds me. Everywhere I go I see him, or at least I think I do. I’ve started imagining his face on the television and in pictures. I can’t turn to page 306 of my social studies book because they have a picture that looks too much like him. And then there is his car. A 2009 Saturn Outlook. It’s a nice, silver SUV, quite innocent. Sadly, when I see that car I automatically go into panic mode. He’s everywhere. Always watching. Always waiting. For his chance.

I’m walking to the bus stop; that’s the farthest I’ll go by myself. I arrive at the bus stop and wait around with Gary Clements, the only other kid at my stop. I’m safely on the bus when I hear a scream. The bus stops. The engine dies.

“Is everyone okay back there?” my bus driver calls.

When I see the silver 2009 Saturn Outlook parked nearby, I know we aren’t. Much to my dismay, there is a collective “yes” from my classmates that says otherwise.

My bus driver gets up to check under the hood. With the hood popped up, his bright red shirt disappears from view. The other students sit on the bus, gossiping nonchalantly amongst themselves. I try to peek out the small window of the bus at the driver. I look down the narrow Georgia road and see nothing but telephone poles and cotton fields. Trees dust the horizon causing long shadows from the morning sun. Of course my school has to be out of town, easier for him to get away with kidnapping me. 

This all just worked out too perfectly for him. But of course it had. He’d worked out the time in my schedule that I would be most vulnerable. And of my alcoholic mother was too drunk to care.

Nearly ten minutes after the bus driver left to check out the hood, Sasha Willis pipes up from the back of the bus. “Where is Mr. Randolphe?” she asks.

“He’s still in front of the bus checking out the engine,” answers Brad Bellmen.

“Still?” Sasha remarks.

“I’ll go check on him,” I pipe up. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I do it anyway.

When I’m off the bus I walk around to the front. The bus driver is nowhere to be found. “Mr. Randolphe? Hello?”

Then I’m being strangled. Large, hairy hands wrap around my mouth preventing me from screaming.

“You’re just the one I wanted to see,” my stalker says with a smile. “I didn’t know how many others I was going to have to kill by hand.”

My eyes are wide. I am going to die. He drags me about ten yards away from the bus. The rest of the students are still on the bus, casually talking about normal high school kids.

Talking until they couldn’t anymore. I watch the school bus go up in flames.

“That took me a long time,” my stalker says with a smile on his face. “You have no idea how much planning has been put into this one day. Thank you.”

The last things I remember are my muffled screams and then a sharp pain on my head.

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

I wake up, my head throbbing, in a room full of pictures. Pictures covering the walls, even the ceiling, pictures laying in piles on the floor. All I see is pictures. And the worst part is that they are all pictures of me.

Everywhere I look is my blond hair, my blue eyes, my slender body. Some of the pictures I have seen before, pictures that I’ve posted on Facebook. Some pictures I have never seen before. Likely they were taken by him. Side profile pictures, pictures of my back. Everywhere I look I see me.

At least I’m alive, I suppose. But as of right now, I don’t know which is better. As I stand up to look around, I hear a soft whistle. The tune sounds familiar but I can’t quite put my finger on it. The whistle gets louder, approaching my doorway.

When it gets to the chorus I realize what song it is.

We all live in a yellow submarine.

The whistling stops when the doorknob to my room begins to open.

“Hello,” says my stalker.

“Who are you?” I say, refusing to show emotion.

“You can call me,” he hesitates for a moment, “Daddy…”

I pause, not exactly sure how to respond to that.

“Any other questions, my flower?”

“Yeah, where am I?”

“But didn’t you hear our song? We all live in a yellow submarine.”

“We? There are others?” I ask.

“Not anymore,” he says with a smile. “Now it’s just you and me.”

And then I’m alone again, floating through the deep sea. I feel the ship rock back and forth as we float. The pictures hanging on the wall sway back and forth in one harmonious dance. I don’t know how long it has been, but I decide to get up and move around a bit. I try the door. It’s unlocked.

I step out into the hallway and look both ways. It’s dark, so I pick a direction at random and walk. I feel my way down the dark hallway until I feel another door knob. Unlocked. I turn it and enter the brightly lit room.

And boy, did it get worse. Everything about this room is familiar. The shade of purple on the walls, the bed, all of the furniture: it’s all mine. This room is my room. It has the same bed sheets, the closet is in the same spot with the same clothes. I open the drawers to my desk. The key to my house is in the same spot in the drawer. Everything is exactly the same, almost as if he copy and pasted my entire room onto this sub.

“Do you like it?” his voice returns.

“What? This? How did–” he cuts me off.

“No more questions, my flower. Why don’t you sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

“Has it really been only a day?” I think out loud.

“Well you got on the bus this morning at 6:54, the bus was a minute late. You came with me at 7:23. We drove down to the docks and arrived at 9:12. Got on my submarine and then we were off! It’s probably about nine or ten at night. You usually go to sleep around this time unless you are up texting Ashlin.”

He knows everything about me.

**************** 

It turns out time doesn’t really matter on the sub. The days turn into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. I’ve lost all count of time. Daddy, I’ve gotten used to calling him that by now, said he had ten years of food. We are about a third into it. Maybe three years? I honestly have no judgment on how long it has been, sailing around these deep waters. 

I think I’ve explored almost the entire ship. It is much larger than I originally thought and there are very few spots I have not been. That is until tonight. I finally picked the key to the secret room off of him. In every movie, every book there is a secret room. Of course the secret room holds the key to my exit. Doesn’t it always? I just have to figure out how to get in. 

And I’ve finally done it. 

I rush through my dinner. He fixed my favorite for the third time this week. After three years of eating it, fried chicken and mashed potatoes are no longer my favorite. Especially not this frozen stuff he bought to last us ten years. After the ten years, I don’t know what he plans to do. I don’t plan on finding out. 

After dinner I go to my room. It is starting to feel like home down here, as weird as it sounds. Maybe spending three years anywhere makes it feel like home. 

Once I am sure he is asleep. I quietly and cautiously slip out of my room. I go down the dark hallway and make an immediate left. 

And there it is. The small circular door that leads to what I presume to my way out. I slip the key in, careful not to jingle it and wake up Daddy. 

I open the door. It’s dark. There has to be a light switch in here somewhere. I find the lights and turn it on. 

This was not the way out. I shouldn’t have come here. 

There are bodies. Female bodies. They are at various stages of decomposing. Some, have obviously been here for a very long time. They all look to be about my age. 

“Oh, my flower,” I hear his voice from behind me. “I thought we had a deal.”

I slowly turn to see the hideous face of the only other passenger aboard the ship. 

“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologize. I know I need to get back into his good graces. I can’t end up like these girls. I look at their hideously twisted bodies. Dried blood mats their hair. Their skin is so decomposed they hardly look human anymore. “What did you do to them?” I ask. 

“They, like you, did the one thing I told them not to do. And they, like you, had to die for their crimes.” 

The next seconds flash by in an instant. Daddy pulls out a knife, swinging at my neck. 

“I’m sorry, my flower,” he says, pushing me onto the ground. I’m trashing for my life. He has already cut off a chunk of my hair. I bite his wrist when he pushes me. The look in his eyes is monstrous. He is set to kill me, and if I want to live, I have to kill him first. 

I’m bleeding. There’s blood everywhere. It’s dripping into my mouth. I try to spit out the warm salty taste but I’m being choked. I’m going to die. 

And then by some miracle of God the knife is in my hands. It only stays in my hands for a short moment before I plunge it into his stomach. 

“My flower...” his voice fades away as the life drains from his eyes. 

And then I’m all alone on this yellow submarine at the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know how to drive this or maneuver it through the ocean, but that is the least of my worries. I’m alive; I’m not quite sure how, but I’m going to get home. 

I make my way through the dark hallways, eerie with emptiness, and to the control room. As I stand behind the wheel, I see a small piece of paper taped to the steering wheel. I read what it says. 

As we live our life of ease

Everyone of us has all we need

Skies of blue and seas of green

In our yellow submarine

Under it is a picture of me smiling.