Here is Chapter Two, as well !!
Chapter 2-The Plans
I started to attend the ritual meetings each week, so I didn’t look suspicious. I was literally at home every other time of my days, formulating what needs to be done in order to get out of this place. Of course, I had Christopher look at the dome shaped bubble that we were trapped in, and calculate what exactly needs to be in place and who needs to help, for us to get out of here. We were shooting for a large amount of people to get out when I do, including Christopher. This is when we no longer care for the younger ones. We need to get out, and that is all that we can care for at the moment. I literally spent days in my room, just putting everything in my head, on to paper. I had to throw at least twenty, well-formulated plans out, just because, they weren’t well enough.
We eventually planned what we needed to be done. The dome obviously had doors, since the General and doctors left quite often, and in truth, they were all gone on weekends….together. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. That would be enough time for us to leave…at least, we all hoped that it would be. But, first, we had to get a large group together, not only to help out, but to get out as well. Each weekend, we were going to smash the recording devices around the 15 mile perimeter of Narrow Ridge, until each and every device was diminished. The weekend after we finished destroying the recording devices, we’d go to the doors and break out. General and the doctors realized we’d given up on breaking out, after being stuck inside these metal walls for over five months (I eventually lost count). They believed that and they didn’t even set an alarm on the doors to the exit anymore…of course, we noticed. They didn’t bar the door, nor set men outside of it…they just let us free, without letting us free. They made it quite easy to…well…just leave.
Friday night, we had a group of 63 kids ranging from ages 10 to 17. We broke down into groups of 5-6 people and scattered throughout Narrow Ridge, smashing each and every camera, video taping system, voice recognitions, alarm systems, etc. that we possibly could. I felt my adolescence arising inside of me, and the strain/creases informing from my heavy face. I felt a sense of life growing back inside of me.
The only thing that kept me going was the adrenalin of breaking out of this prison and the thought of my mother’s embrace. My mother…she keeps my legs moving and my bat smashing. A bat that we made by hand, from the cutting the wood off the rotting oak trees and sanding the wood down until it resembled a baseball bat, being sturdy in all.
I smashed everything I could, starting from camera, to mailboxes, to trees themselves. I smashed everything inside this town, out of rage and anger…and why? I was trying to smash this outer environment to restore and revise my inner environment.
All 63 of us seemed as if we lost our sanity, as we destroyed our already destroyed town. We were restoring hope as we destroyed what soon would be our unforgettable past. We knew that we were headed down a long, narrow ridge, that we could easily slip and fall off of…but, we ARE from Narrow Ridge, and I believe that we are quite capable of such a tedious task.
All we could wonder in all our current activities were questions, such as, “where are my parents”, “where is the rest of the world”, and “will we actually be able to pull through and push forward as we break out of this prison”. The adrenalin rushed through us like lightening charges when such questions formed inside of our brains. But, I, individually, decided that there is no need for questions like “where is”, “will we”, or “what if”. All we were doing was inserting a little piece of doubt that wired our brains, and eventually tear us apart at the seams. I wasn’t about to become a raggedy teddy bear, owned by a three year old, that was torn and beaten. I wouldn’t allow myself to fade away with the breeze, not like I would have to worry about fading with the breeze at all either way, since in fact, this dome holds no breeze, until man pushed a button on the outside. Ridiculously, men think that they can become God, or act as a puppet master of what they think is lower-society. Men are false and imperfect, especially General Baliff and every other heartless bastard who associates themselves with the United States’ military.
The military is defined by the United States’ citizens as heroic men and women who risk their lives to fight for their country against terrorists and other teratogens to the child in the womb (our country). Citizens define them as noble and deserving respect. But, the truth behind all of that is faking. The military is nothing but lying creeps that come together and falsely state the real events that took place with activities they are involved in. They lie to cover up all the illegal activity, like taking freedom away, they involve themselves in. They trap people inside of their lies, and then, eventually trap them inside dome prisons, and use them as lab rats towards another experiment. The military, nor the government, deserve to be labeled noble, or respectful. They shouldn’t be praised for their undying bravery. They are just completely…ignorant.
Ignorant, in my definition, is simply being too much of an idiot to realize that your reality is false. I know that Wikipedia or any other dictionary would define the word “ignorant” much more precisely and most likely in a different aspect. But, this is how I define ignorant, and this is how I feel. My thoughts and feelings towards the government in its entirety could go on in a senseless ramble. But, all that really needs to be taken from this is that no one is perfect or as noble as you suspect. And, this government is a self-seeking, lying, ennoble, and provocative group of no heroic men and women of the so called “free” United States.
The United States government end up repeating antithesis through each paragraph that they publicly speak, having dazed Americans baffled, and thinking that the government is smart in itself, without realizing that they are being tricked into believing lies, set up as truth. What the government doesn’t realize is that many people aren’t naive and see through their tricky sentence structures, and see the core of who they really are. I am one of those few, but still an excessive amount, of Americans and even non-Americans, who can see through the United States’ outer appearance of good, and see the evil. I am even experiencing the evil.
Christopher and I have had hardcore conversations of the evil lurking inside our government, for years on end. But, now, we have lived and seen the proof that we debate about consistently. Him and I have been friends since we were young, and he is the only friend that I have kept for so long. That is most likely because, even though younger, he still is at a higher intelligence level than I am. I wouldn’t be able to step a foot outside of here if it wasn’t for him, nor will I without him. He is the only person that I would risk my life for, besides my mother, of course. We are that close, and he feels like a brother to me. I have never had any siblings, so maybe that is why. But, I enjoy caring for someone like that.
But, anyone else inside this town loses my attention. I am probably supposed to be the mother figure in such a tragedy, like you would read in some fictional, happy ending kind of book…but, this is life, and I am not for the whole nurturing the younger children and risking my escape to make sure that they get theirs. I would have to say, that is completely ridiculous. Yes, Christopher and I may be the oldest, but, they wouldn’t have the chance to get out without us anyways. So, they can wait for us to step on dirt outside this dome, before running wild. After I get out, with Christopher by my side, so we may find our past and make it our future, those kids can do whatever will please them.
My future is so important to me, and I need to grasp hold of it, and never let go. I need to be able to celebrate new beginnings and bury the old, like these. I need to set off fireworks on the fourth of July, for my freedom and independence. Except, once I get out of here, I am taking my mother, and leaving the United States. I really don’t care where we go, as long as it is not in the United States’ territory. I don’t care if the military was forever banned and this communism/dictatorship shit was gone. Once I am gone from the United States, I am definitely not coming back. I won’t ever look back to my old life. I won’t look at my old friends, boyfriends, school, etc. I will have everything I need, and I will not need a single damn thing that the United States has to offer. I will fall in love with everything that is outside of this territory, and I know that I will appreciate my mother, pets, and nature so much more than I ever did before. I will love reading and school, meat and fast food. I will love everything that I have lost. I will love everything that I gain. I never have loved anything as much as this feeling that I have to just break out of this place and be free once again. I never truly understood the feelings that Martha Stewart and the slaves had felt when being stuck in their prison. I do now. If I have to, I will dig a railroad under this place to get to the “New World”. I will get out. I need to. I have to.
Getting out of here is on all of our minds right now, as we smash the last cameras and taping systems. We all are depressed and sleep weary. We all are in need of school and friends, and some happy cartoon like Sponge Bob Square Pants or Courage the Cowardly Dog. Something to turn this suddenly bleak and dreary land, to something that is livable and something that I can endure. I would appreciate if this place was anything besides the shit-hole that it actually is. I wish that I could at least listen to Jone Jett during times where I am depressed feeling. The songs would match how I feel, and let me feel like me.
There are no more stars to gaze at, nor a moon to see God’s magical beauty. The sun is far off, and there is our own source of heat that comes from the real sun, sending light and heat into our prison, by refraction. You may need to know Science, or any little thing, to understand the term of refraction. It isn’t reflection, either. It is simply refraction. And, sometimes, I felt at piece for the second that it refracted, and made it seem like summer’s golden rays. But, it immediately leaves and the peace then turns to simple and painful loneliness.
I remember that there isn’t anyone to turn to, and all I can possibly do is sit there and remorse…or, I can take actions into my own hands and smash the hell out of the government’s property, which I eventually chose. I can break out and I can smile. I can laugh. I can dance. I can read. I can do whatever the hell I want, because once I am free, I am free for good. With that said, I must conclude that I hate and I absolutely mean those “strong” words, when I say that I hate every single person who is involved with this and is ruining many people’s lives…and, I am not exactly sure in how many places, either. But, it must be more than here, because, how could this be the only place, and me to get stuck here?
I don’t even dream anymore. I mean, you always have dreams. It is psychologically proven that everyone dreams every time that they fall asleep. But, I don’t have pleasant ones. Once I am in my stage four sleep, I begin to have my night terrors, and it isn’t pleasant in the least bit. I sometimes sleep walk. Christopher has woken me up, while I stand where the church use to be. I am walking in burned lands in my dream, and dying at the same time. I don’t even remember half the things that I dream about, I just wake up, frightened, and wanting out.
Wanting to have something memorable, and not horrible, but never getting it. That is how you could describe my life. But, I am not permitted to have any experience in life, now, other than those that are horrible. I feel like a Jew in World War II, stuck inside a concentration camp. We have to work for the little we get, and it is always starting with the bastards in government position.
I feel like a mess, and I am in a blur. Of course, my feelings are nothing besides a ramble of unimportant facts, that everyone else says is opinions. It is nothing close to an opinion and everything is supported. It is FACTS! Facts that I am stuck here because the military has some shit that they need to straighten out. But, truthfully, we all have major shit that we need to straighten out. That isn’t even the point though. Yes, we bully people and say hurtful things that are nothing besides completely messed up. But, even with our wrongs, we still don’t take other’s rights from them and lock them inside a prison to become ants under the magnifying glass. We still don’t use people in case studies, or make them our lab rats, in which we infiltrate and inflict pain, emotionally and physically, on others.
This is when I wonder if this life really matters. I mean, all the time people that are in higher power just decide to point fingers in someone else’s direction and play God. They torment and persecute others for things that weren’t even wrongs. They hang those who aren’t truly witches. They kills those who aren’t really communists. And, they trap those who aren’t able to really handle it. They take the freedom and they penetrate bondage into the pores of each and every human that they possibly can. It is seen everywhere, too. It isn’t only the United States. If you look in those History books that are dusty and under a bed, you would see that everyone in every single country acts out like this. Humans are evil people. So, would it really be good for me to move away from the United States? Really?
I smash more. This time, it is whatever that is in sight. I am just angry, and I need to get out. I can’t wait this last week. I can’t. I can’t even wait a moment longer. I just don’t know why I am stuck in such a place like this…prison. Prison without the bars, but with no way out. Like a four-walled room without any doors or windows. But, there has to be a way inside, so, there must be a way out. But, the thing is, is it as easy as it seems to be?
When we open that door to leave, will we have been wrong the whole time, and that they actually have people watching those doors, and maybe an alarm on the outside…what if it’s a silent alarm, too? We would think that we gained freedom, to be pulled back twenty minutes later. What is going to happen when we open that door…do I want to find out? My thoughts are scrambling into a big mess, where I don’t even understand what I am thinking.
My heart is unsettled and smashing possessions no longer is satisfying for my thirst. Thirst of revenge. I want those men to die and I want them to suffer for what they bring upon us. I want to inflict pain and suffering on those who are heartless. They, meaning the United States, will wish that none of this had ever happened. As for my father, he is dead to me, already. He is the worst past that there is, and to trap your own daughter, unlinking her from the chain (the world), just proves what kind of cynical man that he truly is. Hate arises towards everyone, including myself. I hate(and I can not express this with more pain)my life. I have never felt depressed, until now. I use to be optimistic about every single thing, until, let’s say, six months ago, when life turned around for me. But, now, ever drop of sweat that leaves my pores are filled with overwhelming pessimistic views towards any little thing that could go wrong. There isn’t hope, nor do I attend to find any. I know that something is going to happen. We all feel it. So, why do we pretend that we are okay, and are going to make it out just fine? Something will happen, and I know that it will….right when we step foot out of that door.
Was it okay for me to be scared? I was the eldest now. I am sure that they all looked to me for the comfort. If I am scared, it might rub off on them…and, then, we won’t ever even make it to the doorstep. But, I don’t know how to look anything besides distressed…is it possible anymore? From wake to sleep, I feel worried and watched. I feel as if someone is breathing their hot breath down my neck. A neck that went from smooth silk to rotten, grody dirt. Skin that has nothing to it. No tissue or muscle. My hands, blistered from helping the younger kids learn how to farm, have blisters on top of blisters. My arms, no muscle left inside, hang loosely by my sides, and my voice box can only make a low, hollowed sigh. A sigh that can carry and was heard by many. A look of pure distress cover my face and proved my thoughts true. Worry covered this land, and the kids sighed as well. Me, their own mentor, knew what wasn’t going to happen. Me, their own mentor, who had no faith. Me, their own mentor, doubting what I should believe. Me…myself…I. My life feels like nothing more than lies and what I grew up learning, even worse. How can I trust anyone in my life, if this had to happen to me, now, at the young age of 17. How can any one of the kids learn to trust others, when they are even younger than I, and they are suffering the same sufferage that I am. How…? It is undeterminable that others can actually hope and believe that we will get out of this hell. It is unreal that I can not have faith in that. It is not right. Is anything right? My mother is probably dead, and if not, she is suffering, as well. She might have even taken her own life, or she might have tried to. But, I am not sure, because, I am away…far away. And, the thing is, I want her back, close to my heart, as well as my physical body. I want to smell her scent and feel comfort. I want her homemade peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies to warm me up inside and make pure delight seep through my pores. I want to smile and laugh. Dance and cry tears of joy. I want something that is unobtainable. I want something that is not going to either give me a stroke, or just kill me all together.
Going home, to rest, and gain strength for this very long week, I dropped my shoulders into a low slum, and I heaved tears of rage and frustration. I wanted to live my life, and one without General Baliff’s daily threats of murder. I wanted to erase memories and restore those with new and refreshing ones. Ones that wouldn’t hurt me or send me to a psych ward. I didn’t want to become crazy, or “loony”. I didn’t want to end my life lonely, or depressed. I wanted my old joy and my old satisfaction to come back to me. I wanted to just have an overwhelming peace. The peace that you get when you feel free…like Christians feel when they accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. Is this what I am living in? Is this Hell? Did I not do what was right, and somehow died, and ended in here…or, is life just hell and you eventually go to heaven. When will I say farewell to my friends? When will I have love? When will I grow old and look back on life, and think, “…well, I accomplished something big, and that gives me integrity that is so great”.
I don’t think that will happen with me, though. I will always remember these times in the back of my mind, and not be able to erase it, even if I went to the ends of the earth to try. With hypnosis, I would still remember. In my dreams, that is all that comes through. The thing is, I can’t even remember the taste of pizza or a steak. My amgdyla is blocking my hippocampus from storing those important memories over moments like these that should be erased. That is the sad part. This tragedy that strikes fear inside me is taking everything good out and replacing it with hurt on top of more hurt. This pain is seeping inside me and producing a black hole that is sickening.
Sick…that is how I feel. Sick is how I look. I am pale and skinnier than ever before. My legs have no muscle, nor does any part of my body. I can barely walk at times, from feel so starved and sick. And, when I am on my period, they just allow us to bleed and blood will flow if not stopped…which it isn’t. They don’t have pads or tampons for us to clean up the mess. They like to see our blood, and they like to see our suffering. They work the girls harder on their monthly. They work them until they can’t bare the pain and almost collapse. They hate people, and they love pain. So, why not make people suffer more in their suffrage.
Although, they hurt us, they try to win us over, to eventually hurt us, again. I actually believed that they were trying to help me at the beginning, and after watching them shoot children in their head for being too young to understand…I realized that they are just monstrous bastards. They want what is worst for us…and, they will do whatever they need to make that happen to us.
Whether taking our parents, books, Bibles, church, education, and source of food away, or just making us bleed in front of everyone…they make us suffer from embarrassment and pain. They truly don’t know what love is, and they hurt, hurt, hurt everyone. It is an automatic process for them to do so. They are horrible men and dictators among us. McCarthy would have been right to point fingers, now, at the government. Now, is when his false tales are true facts. But, maybe, McCarthy really did know things about the government, and their lies. Maybe this is not all so new. I won’t ever be able to know for sure. But, if the military and the United States’ government can do this, now…then, they definitely could have done this back then, too, right?
I am not sure how much of history that I truly believe. When the government is made to sound perfect and holistic, it is confirmed to be false. But, when something like the United States trapping and murdering children occurs, there is no way that couldn’t be anything besides the truth. Imagining a man and his family sitting at their kitchen table, reading the newspaper and seeing this story pop up…they’d be enraged, and probably leave the United States in fear of their and their children’s own freedom and life. Any one who isn’t a part of such a thing would be outraged. United States is the land of the free. That is sung in our own National Anthem, and yet, no one truly has freedom. It can be taken from any person at any moment. Every person should be in fear of what might occur next, because, truthfully, at any given moment a bomb can be dropped in your own town, emotionally and physically separating you from the rest of the world. Then, all you can think of is everything that you did wrong, and how to fix what can no longer be fixed. You accumulate plans that can not truly be done in such a situation. You conclude that all is lost, but, you still have hope, until that too is shattered like broken glass. Your life is no longer what it was, nor could it ever be that way, again. My mother, if she is trapped, where is she trapped at? Do they have their own replication of the Jewish concentration camps, for adult, as well? Or, are they only doing this to minors, since we really don’t have freedom until we are 18, besides our parent’s decisions? Are all of our parents the ones that are behind this? No, I can’t and shouldn’t think like that, but, the thing is, I have no hope of getting out. I have no hope of sleep, because, all I can do on this night, is sit erect and look out unto the fields, which are broken and gray.
Grayness is like a blob inside my life, which I can not get past, as much as I hit and kick. Black and white. No other colors or expressions. Colors represent oras, but, mine would still be black, for death. That is how I feel. I feel like Death, himself, has taken his scepter and ripping life out of my body. My soul is intangible to take hold of. My optimism and joy has left me, and they, themselves, died as well. All because Death took what was mine, and spoke in canny lies, until I no longer had air to breathe. But, truly, I am alive…but, dead.
“Dead to this world” is a term that Christians use to refer to their holy lifestyle with Jesus, and how they no longer need their secular music, or their heroin to shoot up on. But, I am dead to this world from just lack of the world itself. I was cut off from the chain, and this chain is rusting in the rain. If this chain could shrink and shrivel away, it already would have…but, the rust is breaking this chain down, until no longer useful to carry out the purpose it was made for.
The thing is, I am not even sure I can remember my purpose on earth, or if I ever even knew what that was in the first place. All I have is lies on top of lies, which I don’t know who or what to believe…not even Christopher, for sure. And, I can’t carry out a purpose that I am destined for, if that is how I see this world and her population. People from all ethnicities, religions, and countries, can no longer be trusted to me, and I am sure to all the other children that were deceivingly locked inside of these prisoned walls. Some have grown comfortable to these conditions that are bestowed upon us, but, I will not allow my body, nor my soul, to grow into this and eventually accept this. I am not going to be one of those girls, who are kidnapped, and kept hidden for nineteen years in the back of a shed, and just comply, until finally free. I deserve my freedom, for I have not done wrong against these men, and I will fight until I get that. Even, if that means that I die while trying, at least, I will know that I tried, and didn’t accept the intolerable.
I was not like those who think that if I just sit here and take the beating, that it will eventually work out in the end. No, I am one who will do the beating, and get to where I need to be. That is the only perspective that I can see this from, now. No matter the little…actually, non-existent hopes that I have, I will do what I need to, and so I can gain such hope. I know Christopher feels the same, because we do talk about this, and we both have lost hope at the same time the last recording device was shattered into pieces. We lost hope, because we were too close to getting out, and we both know that it will not be as easy, as smashing things without notice, and opening the door to walk out. If they are killing children for just being naive, then, what is stopping them from standing there, and waiting for us to take that step and get shot down right there?
But, truthfully, I think that my soul would be set free, right when that door is opened, and my feet touch dirt outside. Having the trickles of sunlight form beams of light upon my skin, and feeling the warmth around me…I know that all would end well. Even if I got murdered right then, I would die a happy girl. I would die knowing that I made it out, and I would die, without ever having to go back. I would die with a smile upon my lips, and joy restored to my face, once again. I would die in peace, and feel no pain. I would just die and began a new life.
I wouldn’t worry about my mother in that last moment, and I wouldn’t think of the past. I’d rejoice my freedom and give out a single laugh. I would wish for it to rain, or to see a spider. I would wish for all my fears to come alive. I would dance like David did when he became king, and I would do it without carrying what other’s think. I will never feel fear again, and that is the day that I await. This is our plan that we have created, and this time, I am not going to think if I should do otherwise. We will get out, and this plan is going to bring us our redemption. This plan is going to kill what was killed and give life to the lifeless. This plan is the only plan. This plan is what I am breathing for. This is the plan of the lifetime. This is our future. This is the breaking of our past. This is what we need to open our eyes in the morning. This is the only thing that is keeping me alive. This plan is our hope.
My name is Alyssa-Rachelle . I am in high school in Florida . And, this blog is just me getting my thoughts out...and, well just blogging (:
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Chapter One- The Beginning
I know that I have been procrastating putting up the first chapter on here, but, here it is !!
Chapter 1-The Beginning
I looked outside from my barren walls just to see a barren land. I never understood why the military had to invade our homes or take our parents away. I am the oldest in our town, now, at age 17. I am locked away from all the rest of the world, and I no longer feel safe. I am not sure who or even why this all began. But, if I have to try until I breathe my last breath, I will find out.
It is cold in this room, and I am sure, freezing outside, since it is winter. But, the thing is, I couldn’t enjoy it any more. People assume right there that I am disabled or have some crazy disease. Truthfully, I am not sure what is wrong with me. I am told to be “special” or even “disturbed”. But, I just think that I understand things better than others can. Does that make sense to anyone else besides me? I am not exactly sure. But, things that are unusual have been going on outside of this prison I am locked in, and I need to find out what that exactly is….the only problem with doing that is getting out. Without getting out, I might actually become “insane” or “dangerous”.
My mother once told me that I am “strong” and “courageous”. She told me that I always put others before me. But, that ability slowly died away to the point that I only consider myself and finding the truth important. I no longer help the children in my town, find food. This is my prison, and this is their prison. It is time for all of us to grow up and learn on our own. I never knew my father, nor did I truly want to. My mother described him as “incompetent” and “destructive”. He destroyed their relationship, and he destroyed her life. I didn’t want him to form my life into a chaotic mess, too. No way would I let him do that to me.
As a child, I didn’t see the mess he made of my mother. My mother eventually lost her sanity and needed to be home to feel safe. Now, I wonder where she is…and how she is. I am not sure when I will see my mother again, but, I will. There is no way that I will let the government’s conscious mistakes keep me from my happiness. I despise him for that. But, since he is in the military, and took my mother from me, I hate him!
The other children in my town want and even need their mothers and fathers back home, as well. Again, I must say…the only problem is getting out of here. This thing is trapping us in. This bubble that is locked outside. Our world is only about 15 miles long. But, how could I get out? This is what I need to find out. I might as well be locked up in a juvenile correction center; because, that is what our town is.
What I can remember about the first month in this new town was glancing into the mirror and seeing an image of a girl who matured too fast. It wasn’t from the usual drugs or alcohol, which made your innocent features, harden. It was from the stress thrown at me in a matter of weeks. It was from the fact that I was another portion of the adolescence occupying Narrow Ridge, than, I became the oldest. It was from the belief that my mother was probably gone forever. It had to do with confinement and elimination of freedom. Touching what became creases in my face, I could only cry out. Cry out to whomever could hear me, Cry out to a God, whether He cared or not. Cry out, whether this was just an emotional ramble or something that was significantly a cry for help. Whether the other children were hearing distance or whether they were far off in the distance, I cried out. Whether I would be known as stronger or weaker, I cried. I did it! It was from so much laid on someone who couldn’t take too much. Who was this girl? She surely couldn’t be me…but, she was.
I guess this is the time that I should grow up. I need to stop looking in the past, because this is the future. I need to find a way to live and find peace in this war. How? I don’t know. But,
I can find out. I can make my mother proud and bring her home to Narrow Ridge; bring her home to me.
I went on a jog to clear my thoughts. I had to find some way to do what is right. I, Mina Hathaway, am going to have a safe and reliable plan by the end of this week. I know what I need to do, but, my plan definitely needs formulating. I guess I should meet up with the other teenagers from Narrow Ridge, and get their help as well…and, eventually, we may even need the children to help us out.
“Mina”… “Mina!” “Where have you been?” “Mina, the deal was, if you wanted to stay alive, you had to be at the weekly meetings”. “I am sorry General Baliff,” I stated gravely, “I guess that when my mother was just snatched out of my life, it gave me post-dramatic stress where I can’t remember”. “Mina, I find you hilarious with your half-ass jokes, but, if you are late one more time, or miss another meeting, we will lock you up. Next meeting is on Tuesday at fifteen-hundred hours”. I hated him. I absolutely hated that man. He and three other men were the only adults in our prison. General Baliff is known as the killer, being as he has already killed seven children and three teenagers. The other three men were all doctors that were enlisted in the military as well. They listed us all with diseases and made us seem crazy. We had weekly meetings, that I, as well as Christopher (the 15 year old genius) skipped. The meetings were to brainwash us, or as General calls it, “to cleanse your sanity”. Well, my “sanity” is just fine, and so is everyone else besides those heartless bastards in the military.
They portray every other being as “crazy” or “disturbed”, but, it is not true. I don’t see any one of those kids that are around Narrow Ridge (aka Base 491 Kaddin [to the military]) as anything besides another normal child. See, I did my research, and I found out that the cerebral cortex, which is in the frontal lobe, controls our emotional responses, which could be mood changes or even perversion. I also found out that if you don’t receive enough serotonin, it leads to a severe depression. I think that is what might have happened to my mother. I am not sure how you lose serotonin over time, but, if that is what my father did to her. He must’ve sucked her serotonin out somehow and created her into this big blob of depression. Then, there is the amygdale, and that holds emotions such as fear and anger. But, see, I don’t see any of those symptoms, besides fear in any of these children. But, anyone would feel those same frightening feelings as anyone else, if their parents were taken from them, to never be seen again, as well.
I felt small in this world. I think that they want me to look at this world and be in awe…but, they are wrong. This is nothing to be in awe over. There is nothing great about this place. We are not people to the Generals, doctors, and government running this all…we are all just case studies. I am not sure if they would like to be “the ant under the magnifying glass”, but I know that I do not. Actually, I know that no one in Narrow Ridge appreciates that. Who would? They treat us like lab rats and like we don’t deserve an opinion. I didn’t know that equal rights were taken away from us. I thought that the United States was all for freedom and peace. But, what is this? It surely isn’t what our forefathers signed for and dedicated their lives to distribute.
Rights are now wrongs and wrongs are now rights. Everything is gone. Everyone is gone.
School is no longer existent in this town. Kids that were in the 2nd grade are no longer in school. How do they think that we are going to do anything with ourselves? Is this there ultimate testing, to see if we can live without education, adults, or anything else that we need? The four adults in our town don’t supply food or anything else to any of the children, besides the 0-2 year olds. After that, they told us, it is our responsibility for them. We are the new community, and we need to learn at a younger age. But, if they want us to learn, then why deprive us from the main source of education? Our world is 15 miles long. There isn’t enough to learn. There is no television, internet, phones, radios, newspapers, etc. We don’t know anything that is happening. We don’t have schools or parents to teach us. We have nothing besides ourselves and this bubble that we are trapped inside. There also is not one animal in Narrow Ridge anymore. When our parents were taken and evacuated…so was every single animal, besides the worms and ants, of course. We are all forced vegetarians, now. We don’t get to enjoy the delicious ribs or hamburgers, anymore. Instead, we grow potatoes, corn, watermelons, pumpkins, and make our own food. Kids from ages 12+ are the cookers, and the kids 11- are the growers. The kids that are 15+ just watch each one and make sure that they do it correctly, because we can’t make any mistakes. We don’t have enough food to do so. But, we have made mistakes, and we have lost many 4-6 year olds, mostly girls.
In Narrow Ridge, the population changed from 437, to about 132, and keeps changing each passing day. None are born or added to our town, but some are “dropping like flies”. The General wants the older ones to start breeding…I couldn’t be a mother. I want to get married, and love. Kids will come later. I want a career. I want to live my teenage life. But, the thing is, I know that soon, they will have me brainwashed into believing their canny lies. I will be a mother by age 19, and not know the meaning of love any longer.
I always dreamed to travel to Europe, and go to college in Belgium. I dreamt about the amazing life I could have as a psychologist living in the country-side of England. But, I don’t feel like I am actually going to get there anymore. In fact, I know that I will not. I no longer have a desire to travel, nor do I desire to live any where besides my very home. If, and when, I get my mother back, I will not leave her side again. With research, one may find that post dramatic stress can make someone want to change their whole life around. When something so harsh and unexpected drops a bomb inside your life, you may never see things the same. Well, I really don’t anymore. I mean, I still go through all the psychology books and do research, because I love the science of Psychology, and I love all the different techniques and opinions that other known Psychologists studied and believed. But, every other thing in my life has lost its meaning, and all I can really wonder is where my mother is, and when I can start our life together once again.
We aren’t supposed to have books, and if they found out that I hid all of my old textbooks, literatures, Greek mythology, and psychology books under my floor boards, they would have me killed. I need my books though. They are what keep me alive in this now bleak world. I can learn and teach the other children, as I learn. I hid my mother’s college English and calculus books, as well. Finally, when I am alone in the dark night, I take them out of their little hiding place, and I practice these learning techniques daily. I know that I am learning more and more each day. But, I am really scared that they are going to find my stashes during one of their weekly raids. I am scared of dying and leaving my mother by herself. I am scared of leaving all the children of this town. I am not sure that they can make it without me or Christopher. We are the leaders. We help the kids, and we try to teach them what we know. I really wish that they were strong enough to live, incase him or I do get killed from General Baliff. Everything is pretty chaotic lately, and I think that I am going to end up driving myself up the wall if I don’t find some way to get things at least partially back to normal.
These are the times when my undying faith starts to slowly die and fade away. I thought God was watching over us, protecting us from harm. But, then, I see the times we are in, where the Bible is completely gone, besides the hidden ones inside our AC units; where the church was torn down, and a military base was set up instead. These times resemble that of the rapture, except, all the believers that are younger than 18, are still here, and all the non-believers that are over the age of 18, are gone, as well. I wonder if God wants to help us, and if this is the only bubble that is trapping people in. We don’t have television or any other way to communicate or know what is happening everywhere else in this world, meaning, we may not only be the only ones trapped away by the military. We may be one of many victims.
When I remember that my father is in the military, it proves my mother’s repetitive accusations against his morals and lifestyle. He is an asshole and proves it by being one of the main generals in the military. I know he is watching me, since there are cameras everywhere. I had to smash all the cameras inside my house, just so I could study and read. But, my father would love to see me in such pain. He would enjoy this confusion and hurt from all the people’s lives that they are destroying….he is destroying. My mother was completely right. He is destructive. He destroys everything that he can put his hands on.
I always remember when I was a little girl and my mother would tuck me in. She would tell me that boys are bad and they lie. My mother would tell me that I should never believe a boy, because they are not the perfect people that us girls portray them as, and we will get hurt if we keep letting them walk over us. I never let any guy into my life, because I saw the toll of marriage on my mother. She became a useless blob to anyone besides me. She was my crystal, my rose, that I adored and cherished. When she felt hurt, I was hurt. But, when she was happy, I felt thrilled. We shared emotions, because we became one. My mother and I knew what love was, because we loved each other each and every day. Of course, I would want to try dating and marriage later in my lifetime. But, I can learn from my mother’s mistakes, such as, putting everything she had into her relationship with my father, who put nothing in it at all.
Of course, we no longer have phones, but, I do have my cell phone hidden away. I know that is another disobedience against the rules set. But, why should it matter? I can’t get any service, no matter where I try, and I can’t seem to connect with the world beyond ours. I really wish I could. I try every single day. But, I am pretty sure, they knew that teenagers and children are very disobedient, and that they would sneak things like their cell phones. I know that they must have torn down the cell phone towers, etc. They are not in here, and that is how I figured it out. They don’t trust us, like we don’t trust them. They shouldn’t trust us, either. I don’t blame them for that at all.
Trust is something that takes time. I only trust one person, and anyone who knows me, knows that person is my mother. I have never really been able to connect with people, especially since my mother always taught me to “not trust him” or “don’t believe their lies”, besides her. We had a mother-daughter bond, and I loved it. I love her. I need her back, because I am scared. Scared of the truth and the future, I guess.
My life has and is changing with each passing second, and I guess that I am becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. I am learning from naturalistic observations, the things that are necessary to live. I am learning that technology can make it snow, rain, thunder, lightening, etc. inside this bubble. I am trying to learn how they are able to make such God-like things, as well as trying to learn why they are doing so. But, then, again, maybe they are trying to make many worlds on our world. We are the geniua pigs. We are the lab rats. We are the case-study. We are their slaves.
Slaves to this world…this prison that we are trapped inside of. We are all enslaved to a method of classical conditioning. We hold our breath when General is around, because we are scared of him deciding to take our life and throw it in the waste basket. We are enslaved to the method of lying. We lie about where we receive information, or how we learn. We lie about where things are, and who we last talked to. We lie about our emotions and fear, as well as our happiness and exhilaration. We are everything besides who we really are. We are Base 491 Kaddin, and that is how we are known. Only the 16 year olds and I are known by our first names with General Baliff and the doctors. Everyone else has numbers varying from 131 to 219. Again, I will state…we are the case study.
But, one day, I know that freedom can reign, and reign for the rest of life. One day, Martin Luther King Jr’s speech won’t have been a waste in entirety. Or, Harriett Tubman and all the rest that lived their lives for equal right, wouldn’t have been completely over ruled. One day is all I can say…because one day is not today. We all wish that it could be. But, sadly, it is just a wish. We all say that it is going to be today…but, we know that we are just hoping and making reality false. One day is far away. One day couldn’t be yesterday, today, tomorrow, or even the next day. We are living in a world where we live off words like “one day” or “someday” or even “hope”. We are living in an unreal world. This is chaos.
With chaos, you bring the destruction and havoc. With chaos, you hear cries of pain. With chaos, you realize that nothing is ever going to be the same. I have to finally take all these things into account. I will never have restoration, and if I finally do, it won’t be anything like it was before. Not even close. I miss my life. I miss my school. I miss every bad thing that I thought was the end of my life, but wasn’t. I miss my house, when it looked normal…felt normal. I miss my friends, they were all older…and now are all gone. I miss my animals, I had two dogs…where were they now? I miss television and FaceBook. Do they exist anywhere, any longer? I miss my teachers, and the lectures we got. I miss every little thing that ever occurred in my lifetime. I have nothing now. I have no animals, no family, no friends, no teachers. I have no one to talk to, listen to, hang out with. I have absolutely nothing in this world! I don’t enjoy television or talking on my phone. I don’t enjoy walking to class in the wintertime. I don’t enjoy my life. I feel like I lost everything, and I think that is because I actually have. Again, I emotionally ramble about each and everything that I no longer have, and that is probably because I am 17 years old. I am supposed to be going to homecoming and prom. I am supposed to be getting ready to graduate, and travel to find the perfect college. I am supposed to be going to the beach with friends, and parties with enemies. I am supposed to be living like a normal teenager. But, I ramble because I can’t. I never will again, either. Life is ruined from here on out. Life…ruined…destroyed. Life is nothing like it was, nor will it ever be. I must say this at least 100 times a day. But, do you believe that I could ever walk without looking back again? I don’t. Life is a mess.
Life is drastic and we will never be aware of what will come next. One thing that I remember in the Bible is that we have many trials and temptations before us. I think that I am going through a trial and a temptation to kill everyone behind this. But, is it really the devil telling them to do all of this? Or, is it just their own conscious drives? I need to know. I need to understand. But, I can’t. God won’t answer my prayers. Neither will anyone else. All there is are unanswered questions and a shit load of lies. I am seventeen years old, and I am the oldest person in my town. I am locked up, and definded as crazy. I have no parents…I am an orphan. I look as if I am actually thirty years old. I have no siblings, or anyone to take care of. I am friends with my books, and it is illegal to read. I have a house to myself, and it looks damaged. It is a broken home. I am broken. Am I crazy? Is this all a nightmare? I am a living nightmare who seeks revenge, but could never apply it. I am confused. I am Mina Hathaway, and what I finally realize is that this is just the beginning to my ending. Only the beginning.
Chapter 1-The Beginning
I looked outside from my barren walls just to see a barren land. I never understood why the military had to invade our homes or take our parents away. I am the oldest in our town, now, at age 17. I am locked away from all the rest of the world, and I no longer feel safe. I am not sure who or even why this all began. But, if I have to try until I breathe my last breath, I will find out.
It is cold in this room, and I am sure, freezing outside, since it is winter. But, the thing is, I couldn’t enjoy it any more. People assume right there that I am disabled or have some crazy disease. Truthfully, I am not sure what is wrong with me. I am told to be “special” or even “disturbed”. But, I just think that I understand things better than others can. Does that make sense to anyone else besides me? I am not exactly sure. But, things that are unusual have been going on outside of this prison I am locked in, and I need to find out what that exactly is….the only problem with doing that is getting out. Without getting out, I might actually become “insane” or “dangerous”.
My mother once told me that I am “strong” and “courageous”. She told me that I always put others before me. But, that ability slowly died away to the point that I only consider myself and finding the truth important. I no longer help the children in my town, find food. This is my prison, and this is their prison. It is time for all of us to grow up and learn on our own. I never knew my father, nor did I truly want to. My mother described him as “incompetent” and “destructive”. He destroyed their relationship, and he destroyed her life. I didn’t want him to form my life into a chaotic mess, too. No way would I let him do that to me.
As a child, I didn’t see the mess he made of my mother. My mother eventually lost her sanity and needed to be home to feel safe. Now, I wonder where she is…and how she is. I am not sure when I will see my mother again, but, I will. There is no way that I will let the government’s conscious mistakes keep me from my happiness. I despise him for that. But, since he is in the military, and took my mother from me, I hate him!
The other children in my town want and even need their mothers and fathers back home, as well. Again, I must say…the only problem is getting out of here. This thing is trapping us in. This bubble that is locked outside. Our world is only about 15 miles long. But, how could I get out? This is what I need to find out. I might as well be locked up in a juvenile correction center; because, that is what our town is.
What I can remember about the first month in this new town was glancing into the mirror and seeing an image of a girl who matured too fast. It wasn’t from the usual drugs or alcohol, which made your innocent features, harden. It was from the stress thrown at me in a matter of weeks. It was from the fact that I was another portion of the adolescence occupying Narrow Ridge, than, I became the oldest. It was from the belief that my mother was probably gone forever. It had to do with confinement and elimination of freedom. Touching what became creases in my face, I could only cry out. Cry out to whomever could hear me, Cry out to a God, whether He cared or not. Cry out, whether this was just an emotional ramble or something that was significantly a cry for help. Whether the other children were hearing distance or whether they were far off in the distance, I cried out. Whether I would be known as stronger or weaker, I cried. I did it! It was from so much laid on someone who couldn’t take too much. Who was this girl? She surely couldn’t be me…but, she was.
I guess this is the time that I should grow up. I need to stop looking in the past, because this is the future. I need to find a way to live and find peace in this war. How? I don’t know. But,
I can find out. I can make my mother proud and bring her home to Narrow Ridge; bring her home to me.
I went on a jog to clear my thoughts. I had to find some way to do what is right. I, Mina Hathaway, am going to have a safe and reliable plan by the end of this week. I know what I need to do, but, my plan definitely needs formulating. I guess I should meet up with the other teenagers from Narrow Ridge, and get their help as well…and, eventually, we may even need the children to help us out.
“Mina”… “Mina!” “Where have you been?” “Mina, the deal was, if you wanted to stay alive, you had to be at the weekly meetings”. “I am sorry General Baliff,” I stated gravely, “I guess that when my mother was just snatched out of my life, it gave me post-dramatic stress where I can’t remember”. “Mina, I find you hilarious with your half-ass jokes, but, if you are late one more time, or miss another meeting, we will lock you up. Next meeting is on Tuesday at fifteen-hundred hours”. I hated him. I absolutely hated that man. He and three other men were the only adults in our prison. General Baliff is known as the killer, being as he has already killed seven children and three teenagers. The other three men were all doctors that were enlisted in the military as well. They listed us all with diseases and made us seem crazy. We had weekly meetings, that I, as well as Christopher (the 15 year old genius) skipped. The meetings were to brainwash us, or as General calls it, “to cleanse your sanity”. Well, my “sanity” is just fine, and so is everyone else besides those heartless bastards in the military.
They portray every other being as “crazy” or “disturbed”, but, it is not true. I don’t see any one of those kids that are around Narrow Ridge (aka Base 491 Kaddin [to the military]) as anything besides another normal child. See, I did my research, and I found out that the cerebral cortex, which is in the frontal lobe, controls our emotional responses, which could be mood changes or even perversion. I also found out that if you don’t receive enough serotonin, it leads to a severe depression. I think that is what might have happened to my mother. I am not sure how you lose serotonin over time, but, if that is what my father did to her. He must’ve sucked her serotonin out somehow and created her into this big blob of depression. Then, there is the amygdale, and that holds emotions such as fear and anger. But, see, I don’t see any of those symptoms, besides fear in any of these children. But, anyone would feel those same frightening feelings as anyone else, if their parents were taken from them, to never be seen again, as well.
I felt small in this world. I think that they want me to look at this world and be in awe…but, they are wrong. This is nothing to be in awe over. There is nothing great about this place. We are not people to the Generals, doctors, and government running this all…we are all just case studies. I am not sure if they would like to be “the ant under the magnifying glass”, but I know that I do not. Actually, I know that no one in Narrow Ridge appreciates that. Who would? They treat us like lab rats and like we don’t deserve an opinion. I didn’t know that equal rights were taken away from us. I thought that the United States was all for freedom and peace. But, what is this? It surely isn’t what our forefathers signed for and dedicated their lives to distribute.
Rights are now wrongs and wrongs are now rights. Everything is gone. Everyone is gone.
School is no longer existent in this town. Kids that were in the 2nd grade are no longer in school. How do they think that we are going to do anything with ourselves? Is this there ultimate testing, to see if we can live without education, adults, or anything else that we need? The four adults in our town don’t supply food or anything else to any of the children, besides the 0-2 year olds. After that, they told us, it is our responsibility for them. We are the new community, and we need to learn at a younger age. But, if they want us to learn, then why deprive us from the main source of education? Our world is 15 miles long. There isn’t enough to learn. There is no television, internet, phones, radios, newspapers, etc. We don’t know anything that is happening. We don’t have schools or parents to teach us. We have nothing besides ourselves and this bubble that we are trapped inside. There also is not one animal in Narrow Ridge anymore. When our parents were taken and evacuated…so was every single animal, besides the worms and ants, of course. We are all forced vegetarians, now. We don’t get to enjoy the delicious ribs or hamburgers, anymore. Instead, we grow potatoes, corn, watermelons, pumpkins, and make our own food. Kids from ages 12+ are the cookers, and the kids 11- are the growers. The kids that are 15+ just watch each one and make sure that they do it correctly, because we can’t make any mistakes. We don’t have enough food to do so. But, we have made mistakes, and we have lost many 4-6 year olds, mostly girls.
In Narrow Ridge, the population changed from 437, to about 132, and keeps changing each passing day. None are born or added to our town, but some are “dropping like flies”. The General wants the older ones to start breeding…I couldn’t be a mother. I want to get married, and love. Kids will come later. I want a career. I want to live my teenage life. But, the thing is, I know that soon, they will have me brainwashed into believing their canny lies. I will be a mother by age 19, and not know the meaning of love any longer.
I always dreamed to travel to Europe, and go to college in Belgium. I dreamt about the amazing life I could have as a psychologist living in the country-side of England. But, I don’t feel like I am actually going to get there anymore. In fact, I know that I will not. I no longer have a desire to travel, nor do I desire to live any where besides my very home. If, and when, I get my mother back, I will not leave her side again. With research, one may find that post dramatic stress can make someone want to change their whole life around. When something so harsh and unexpected drops a bomb inside your life, you may never see things the same. Well, I really don’t anymore. I mean, I still go through all the psychology books and do research, because I love the science of Psychology, and I love all the different techniques and opinions that other known Psychologists studied and believed. But, every other thing in my life has lost its meaning, and all I can really wonder is where my mother is, and when I can start our life together once again.
We aren’t supposed to have books, and if they found out that I hid all of my old textbooks, literatures, Greek mythology, and psychology books under my floor boards, they would have me killed. I need my books though. They are what keep me alive in this now bleak world. I can learn and teach the other children, as I learn. I hid my mother’s college English and calculus books, as well. Finally, when I am alone in the dark night, I take them out of their little hiding place, and I practice these learning techniques daily. I know that I am learning more and more each day. But, I am really scared that they are going to find my stashes during one of their weekly raids. I am scared of dying and leaving my mother by herself. I am scared of leaving all the children of this town. I am not sure that they can make it without me or Christopher. We are the leaders. We help the kids, and we try to teach them what we know. I really wish that they were strong enough to live, incase him or I do get killed from General Baliff. Everything is pretty chaotic lately, and I think that I am going to end up driving myself up the wall if I don’t find some way to get things at least partially back to normal.
These are the times when my undying faith starts to slowly die and fade away. I thought God was watching over us, protecting us from harm. But, then, I see the times we are in, where the Bible is completely gone, besides the hidden ones inside our AC units; where the church was torn down, and a military base was set up instead. These times resemble that of the rapture, except, all the believers that are younger than 18, are still here, and all the non-believers that are over the age of 18, are gone, as well. I wonder if God wants to help us, and if this is the only bubble that is trapping people in. We don’t have television or any other way to communicate or know what is happening everywhere else in this world, meaning, we may not only be the only ones trapped away by the military. We may be one of many victims.
When I remember that my father is in the military, it proves my mother’s repetitive accusations against his morals and lifestyle. He is an asshole and proves it by being one of the main generals in the military. I know he is watching me, since there are cameras everywhere. I had to smash all the cameras inside my house, just so I could study and read. But, my father would love to see me in such pain. He would enjoy this confusion and hurt from all the people’s lives that they are destroying….he is destroying. My mother was completely right. He is destructive. He destroys everything that he can put his hands on.
I always remember when I was a little girl and my mother would tuck me in. She would tell me that boys are bad and they lie. My mother would tell me that I should never believe a boy, because they are not the perfect people that us girls portray them as, and we will get hurt if we keep letting them walk over us. I never let any guy into my life, because I saw the toll of marriage on my mother. She became a useless blob to anyone besides me. She was my crystal, my rose, that I adored and cherished. When she felt hurt, I was hurt. But, when she was happy, I felt thrilled. We shared emotions, because we became one. My mother and I knew what love was, because we loved each other each and every day. Of course, I would want to try dating and marriage later in my lifetime. But, I can learn from my mother’s mistakes, such as, putting everything she had into her relationship with my father, who put nothing in it at all.
Of course, we no longer have phones, but, I do have my cell phone hidden away. I know that is another disobedience against the rules set. But, why should it matter? I can’t get any service, no matter where I try, and I can’t seem to connect with the world beyond ours. I really wish I could. I try every single day. But, I am pretty sure, they knew that teenagers and children are very disobedient, and that they would sneak things like their cell phones. I know that they must have torn down the cell phone towers, etc. They are not in here, and that is how I figured it out. They don’t trust us, like we don’t trust them. They shouldn’t trust us, either. I don’t blame them for that at all.
Trust is something that takes time. I only trust one person, and anyone who knows me, knows that person is my mother. I have never really been able to connect with people, especially since my mother always taught me to “not trust him” or “don’t believe their lies”, besides her. We had a mother-daughter bond, and I loved it. I love her. I need her back, because I am scared. Scared of the truth and the future, I guess.
My life has and is changing with each passing second, and I guess that I am becoming more and more aware of my surroundings. I am learning from naturalistic observations, the things that are necessary to live. I am learning that technology can make it snow, rain, thunder, lightening, etc. inside this bubble. I am trying to learn how they are able to make such God-like things, as well as trying to learn why they are doing so. But, then, again, maybe they are trying to make many worlds on our world. We are the geniua pigs. We are the lab rats. We are the case-study. We are their slaves.
Slaves to this world…this prison that we are trapped inside of. We are all enslaved to a method of classical conditioning. We hold our breath when General is around, because we are scared of him deciding to take our life and throw it in the waste basket. We are enslaved to the method of lying. We lie about where we receive information, or how we learn. We lie about where things are, and who we last talked to. We lie about our emotions and fear, as well as our happiness and exhilaration. We are everything besides who we really are. We are Base 491 Kaddin, and that is how we are known. Only the 16 year olds and I are known by our first names with General Baliff and the doctors. Everyone else has numbers varying from 131 to 219. Again, I will state…we are the case study.
But, one day, I know that freedom can reign, and reign for the rest of life. One day, Martin Luther King Jr’s speech won’t have been a waste in entirety. Or, Harriett Tubman and all the rest that lived their lives for equal right, wouldn’t have been completely over ruled. One day is all I can say…because one day is not today. We all wish that it could be. But, sadly, it is just a wish. We all say that it is going to be today…but, we know that we are just hoping and making reality false. One day is far away. One day couldn’t be yesterday, today, tomorrow, or even the next day. We are living in a world where we live off words like “one day” or “someday” or even “hope”. We are living in an unreal world. This is chaos.
With chaos, you bring the destruction and havoc. With chaos, you hear cries of pain. With chaos, you realize that nothing is ever going to be the same. I have to finally take all these things into account. I will never have restoration, and if I finally do, it won’t be anything like it was before. Not even close. I miss my life. I miss my school. I miss every bad thing that I thought was the end of my life, but wasn’t. I miss my house, when it looked normal…felt normal. I miss my friends, they were all older…and now are all gone. I miss my animals, I had two dogs…where were they now? I miss television and FaceBook. Do they exist anywhere, any longer? I miss my teachers, and the lectures we got. I miss every little thing that ever occurred in my lifetime. I have nothing now. I have no animals, no family, no friends, no teachers. I have no one to talk to, listen to, hang out with. I have absolutely nothing in this world! I don’t enjoy television or talking on my phone. I don’t enjoy walking to class in the wintertime. I don’t enjoy my life. I feel like I lost everything, and I think that is because I actually have. Again, I emotionally ramble about each and everything that I no longer have, and that is probably because I am 17 years old. I am supposed to be going to homecoming and prom. I am supposed to be getting ready to graduate, and travel to find the perfect college. I am supposed to be going to the beach with friends, and parties with enemies. I am supposed to be living like a normal teenager. But, I ramble because I can’t. I never will again, either. Life is ruined from here on out. Life…ruined…destroyed. Life is nothing like it was, nor will it ever be. I must say this at least 100 times a day. But, do you believe that I could ever walk without looking back again? I don’t. Life is a mess.
Life is drastic and we will never be aware of what will come next. One thing that I remember in the Bible is that we have many trials and temptations before us. I think that I am going through a trial and a temptation to kill everyone behind this. But, is it really the devil telling them to do all of this? Or, is it just their own conscious drives? I need to know. I need to understand. But, I can’t. God won’t answer my prayers. Neither will anyone else. All there is are unanswered questions and a shit load of lies. I am seventeen years old, and I am the oldest person in my town. I am locked up, and definded as crazy. I have no parents…I am an orphan. I look as if I am actually thirty years old. I have no siblings, or anyone to take care of. I am friends with my books, and it is illegal to read. I have a house to myself, and it looks damaged. It is a broken home. I am broken. Am I crazy? Is this all a nightmare? I am a living nightmare who seeks revenge, but could never apply it. I am confused. I am Mina Hathaway, and what I finally realize is that this is just the beginning to my ending. Only the beginning.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The End To This Beginning- Preface
Sometimes, I am completely unaware of the things going on around me. Sometimes, I just pretend not to notice. Other times, I hate these certain "occurrences" that just seem to stack up. But, really, who can change this? Definitely not a mere child that I am. No…I am too "insane", as the doctors describe me. "Too dangerous" to be on the outside. Is it really that? No. It is because I know. I know what is happening out there. It is a warfare between good and evil....except in this world, good never wins.
NaNoWriMo Begins !!
NaNoWriMo(National Novel Writing Month) has officially begun as of yesterday. And, I am proud to say that I have written over 4,880 words so far. I guess that I can post up my preface today. And, I will post Chapter 1 up, next week ! I would love, love, love for more people to start writing!!
Love,
Alyssa-Rachelle
XOXO
Love,
Alyssa-Rachelle
XOXO
Friday, October 29, 2010
My Novel
Hey guys ! I am writing my first novel for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).
It will be finished by November 30th, 2010, and I will be making a new blog (I will post that url on here) so you can read it. I will be doing the posts chapter by chapter.
When I am finished, a publishing company is sending me a free copy of my book, binded. My family is going to purchase some as well.
Thanks so much guys, and I hope that you will read my novel "The End to this Beginning", and enjoy it as well!!
Alyssa-Rachelle
It will be finished by November 30th, 2010, and I will be making a new blog (I will post that url on here) so you can read it. I will be doing the posts chapter by chapter.
When I am finished, a publishing company is sending me a free copy of my book, binded. My family is going to purchase some as well.
Thanks so much guys, and I hope that you will read my novel "The End to this Beginning", and enjoy it as well!!
Alyssa-Rachelle
I wish you were here
This is my Pantoum called "I wish you were here". I hope that it is good and makes plenty of sense, since I wrote it today !!
I remember the better days,
I couldn’t help but smile.
You gave me a great comfort
As you held me tightly inside your arms
I couldn’t help but smile
At the thought of seeing you again.
As you held me tightly inside your arms,
I quickly fell asleep.
At the thought of seeing you again,
I closed my eyes to dream.
I quickly fell asleep,
Wishing that you were the one next to me.
I closed my eyes to dream,
Holding tightly to my pillow,
Wishing that you were the one next to me,
Remembering how it once was.
Holding tightly to my pillow,
I remember the better days,
Wishing that you were the one next to me,
As you held me tightly inside your arms.
Let me know .
I will be typing up my sonnet and putting it on here as well.
I remember the better days,
I couldn’t help but smile.
You gave me a great comfort
As you held me tightly inside your arms
I couldn’t help but smile
At the thought of seeing you again.
As you held me tightly inside your arms,
I quickly fell asleep.
At the thought of seeing you again,
I closed my eyes to dream.
I quickly fell asleep,
Wishing that you were the one next to me.
I closed my eyes to dream,
Holding tightly to my pillow,
Wishing that you were the one next to me,
Remembering how it once was.
Holding tightly to my pillow,
I remember the better days,
Wishing that you were the one next to me,
As you held me tightly inside your arms.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Banishing the Typical Love Poem
All my senses are on fire and my hands are warm while you are in them. The feeling that you leave in my stomach produces this grin.
You look so delicious to me, and I can't believe that I am living this moment with you. Your perfumed scent arouses me and I think this feeling is called,'hungry'. Hungry for you, my darling.
Okay, this excercise was to write about something that we never thought about when we thought about love. We couldn't even use the word love. All we could use was things that didn't relate to love, and yet, you could still describe it. My thing that I NEVER think of when I think of the word "love" is a taco. Senses are on fire for the girl this guy likes and the feeling of eating that taco you are craving. Warm hands while she or the taco is in them. ETC ETC ETC. I actually don't like this piece at all. But, I am putting all my pieces up here. <3
You look so delicious to me, and I can't believe that I am living this moment with you. Your perfumed scent arouses me and I think this feeling is called,'hungry'. Hungry for you, my darling.
Okay, this excercise was to write about something that we never thought about when we thought about love. We couldn't even use the word love. All we could use was things that didn't relate to love, and yet, you could still describe it. My thing that I NEVER think of when I think of the word "love" is a taco. Senses are on fire for the girl this guy likes and the feeling of eating that taco you are craving. Warm hands while she or the taco is in them. ETC ETC ETC. I actually don't like this piece at all. But, I am putting all my pieces up here. <3
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Ransom Note Story
We were told in class to make a story about a ransom note. This is mine. It is the first draft, so it needs more work. But, yeah(:
Tapping my hand around my cubby, I felt a piece of paper. I grabbed it and read the note: "If you're looking for Mr. Snuggles, he is gone! If you ever want to see him again, meet me at the Sandbox tomorrow, 8 am. But, that's not all, my friend!! I want two sticks of Double Bubble gum, five chocolate chip cookies, and 1 fruit punch Kool-Aid juice box. Be there or be square...and, I know you'll be there. But, you better be alone, or Mr. Snuggles will become Mr. Stuffing!!!"
I grabbed my sack and ran into the cold afternoon. Tears stung my cheeks. Where was I ever going to get all these items by tomorrow morning? I...I...I need Mr. Snuggles!!! I can't tell my mommy, or she'll come with me...and...and...I don't want Mr. Stuffing!
I decided to attempt getting these items somehow. So, instead of walking home, I detoured to CALL ME THRIFTY, the gas station near my house and found over $3.67 on the ground, in a matter of 5 hours...well, I had a $1.50 of that already, and asked a man for some change...but, I still found over $1.00 around the store! As I ventured inside, I noticed two men screaming at each other. They used "no-no" words, and were very upset. I tried to zone them out, just like I do to mommy, and look for the important stuff.
I passed the angry men, and went towards the coolers. I reached into the fridge and grabbed a Kool-Aid. I was becoming less and less upset each passing second. I'm going to get Mr. Snuggles back!! I was so excited that I glanced at my watch to check how much longer until 8 am tomorrow. The time was 7:43 pm. GREAT! When I looked back up, one of the angry men was standing in front of me. In one hand, he held a silver thing. It was metal, no doubt. But, it wasn't sharp, nor was it round. But, when it went off, it was loud...and it hurt!
I didn't know what was happening and quite frankly, I was scared. But, as I fell to the ground, instead of the silver thing, I saw Mr. snuggles in the angry man's hand. I then knew that I could close my eyes, and Mr. Snuggles would be alright.
Factfiction
THIS IS A SECOND DRAFT OF THE SAME PIECE. I DIDN'T PUT THE FIRST DRAFT ON HERE. BUT, MY CREATIVE WRITING TEACHER CRITIQUED IT, AND, NOW THIS IS MY BETTER, BUT NOT PERFECT.
I lie on the floor, my eyes burning from heartfelt tears. My face is as red as blood and every part in my body is numb except my head, which is pounding, pounding, pounding in immense pain. I don’t know where to turn, or who to turn to in that matter. God, which is never there when I truly need Him? No way!
My heart isn’t able to find a steady beat, as it races in my chest. Opening my eyes, everything looks so much duller then it once was. I glance around this barren room. Nothing, absolutely nothing, to stabilize this massive pain. I can honestly say the cheesy line, “I am so lost in this moment”, and truly mean it.
I hear the clock ticking, ticking, ticking…I wish time could cease at the moment you need it to most. But, it doesn’t. Not ever. More tears fill my now swollen eyes and roll down my cheeks. Each time I try to control these unbearable sobs, they just become worse. My breathing feels awkward and I feel around my body for my inhaler…nothing. This burden is more than I can bare. No one, not even the God my forefathers worshiped, can lift this from my bruised shoulders. I am completely humiliated. My innocence was not only kidnapped, but, it was brutally murdered in a matter of minutes.
Floods of thoughts and memories start pouring throughout my brain. But, most of all, floods of anger rage within me. Who deserves this? What have I done? I know that my body and brain are still in shock from the disturbing fact that my own father would do such a crime to me, his own daughter. I hate him! I despise the man! I shall breathe curse upon him with every last breath. Bruises cover my body, and burns cover my heart. But, what covers that man is nothing besides pride and honor. No one would believe me if I tried to tell. My father is the pastor of our small town. Not only does everyone worship the man, they treat him as if he were the Almighty, himself. I know with all my heart, if I went and told anyone that my father, the holy man of God, raped me, brutally tore my innocence from me, so I would never leave him like my mother did, I would be mocked and ridiculed for such a “lie”. So, now, I must put my clothes back onto my beaten body, fake another smile, and walk out of the solitude of my room into daylight…to face everybody…and, keep my mouth shut.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
"Her Diary"
This is another piece that is about a girl sharing in her diary that I wrote in class on September 2nd, 2010. I only did two entries, because, like the other piece, I didn't know if journal entries were interesting enough to keep writing about.
February 21st, 1982 (12:02am)
I could hear the sirens getting louder each second. "What happened," I thought. But, instantly I remembered, my husband is dead...and I am the one holding the knife.
January 19th, 1982 (four weeks earlier)
February 21st, 1982 (12:02am)
I could hear the sirens getting louder each second. "What happened," I thought. But, instantly I remembered, my husband is dead...and I am the one holding the knife.
January 19th, 1982 (four weeks earlier)
My life is a piece of perfection. Thomas and I just shared our ninth anniversary together. As the years go by, we fall more and more in love. Last night proved that. Counselling has really helped our marriage after Jamie's death. Jamie was....still is, our seven year old son. My own mother killed him and herself on my 25th birthday. It has only been ten months, two weeks, and six days...what a birthday gift!! She left a note saying that I wasn't a good enough daughter, and could never be a good enough daughter. I have been numb to feelings every since Jamie died. I can't cry for another person's loss. I couldn't even look at Thomas for weeks! But, we will, and are trying to work this through...I know we can. We will. Right? M.
Put yourself in opposite sexes shoes.
This was a very difficult piece to write for me, since I am not a man. I couldn't really do this piece and actually be serious. So, it is alittle on the immature side. But, enjoy!!
I feel as if I was just punched in the chest with no air left, as I am running down the track. I never thought about the consciquences of partying with the bros, smoking some mari-j, and eating McDonalds would have on me. It has made try-outs this year a very difficult obstacle. If my pops saw how out of shape and red-faced I am, he'd kick my ass and let me know how much of a failure and disgrace I have always been. I know, I shouldn't listen to him. But, truthfully, he is right. I am a freshman at UF on a full-scholoarship from football. If I let my friends take that from me, who would I become? I haven't made a single A since the 7th grade, and even then, I was shocked!! My girl is always telling me these black & white lies, that I am either the smartest guy alive, or that I am dumb as hell. Well, neither one of those are the actual truth. I am average, and I always have been. Average at school, average at work, average at courting...but, one thing, just one, I was superior at, and that of course, is my football. So, this is my time to own up, my time to be a big boy and make the decisions I should have made a long time ago...and, I am guessing that means that I should now choose my friends, or my football. I know the answer, and it is very clear. Yet, I still have no clue which one I am going to choose.
I feel as if I was just punched in the chest with no air left, as I am running down the track. I never thought about the consciquences of partying with the bros, smoking some mari-j, and eating McDonalds would have on me. It has made try-outs this year a very difficult obstacle. If my pops saw how out of shape and red-faced I am, he'd kick my ass and let me know how much of a failure and disgrace I have always been. I know, I shouldn't listen to him. But, truthfully, he is right. I am a freshman at UF on a full-scholoarship from football. If I let my friends take that from me, who would I become? I haven't made a single A since the 7th grade, and even then, I was shocked!! My girl is always telling me these black & white lies, that I am either the smartest guy alive, or that I am dumb as hell. Well, neither one of those are the actual truth. I am average, and I always have been. Average at school, average at work, average at courting...but, one thing, just one, I was superior at, and that of course, is my football. So, this is my time to own up, my time to be a big boy and make the decisions I should have made a long time ago...and, I am guessing that means that I should now choose my friends, or my football. I know the answer, and it is very clear. Yet, I still have no clue which one I am going to choose.
Imitation of Charles Dickons
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - Charles Dickons
The above quote was from Charles Dickons, and the following will be my imitation piece on, "It was the Best of Times".
It was the most frightening of occasions, it was the most exhilarating of occasions, it was the age of happiness, it was the age of depression, it was the time of faith, it was the time of refusal, it was the season of life, it was the season of death, it was the celebration of new beginnings, it was the mourning of old endings, we could see all around us, we couldn't see a single thing, we were walking a straight path, we were detouring into the woods.
The above quote was from Charles Dickons, and the following will be my imitation piece on, "It was the Best of Times".
It was the most frightening of occasions, it was the most exhilarating of occasions, it was the age of happiness, it was the age of depression, it was the time of faith, it was the time of refusal, it was the season of life, it was the season of death, it was the celebration of new beginnings, it was the mourning of old endings, we could see all around us, we couldn't see a single thing, we were walking a straight path, we were detouring into the woods.
Character Piece
I just started this and am not sure whether I should go further with this. This is written in 1st person narrative and is all wrapped around this girl named Belle. This piece is written in her journal, and if I should go further with this, let me know. Thanks !
August 16th, 2003
As always, Beth knew the exact moment that I needed her, and she made sure to be there. I think I would have lost my mind about 7 years ago if I didn't have her to pick me up and put my disassembled heart back together. Beth has not only been my best friend since the 3rd grade, but, she has been my only friend since the 3rd grade. One might say that this is a bad thing. But, truthfully, I like this just the way it is. And, when I say "this", don't mistakenly think that I mean my life...because, you would be nieve to think that I would like my life, when I have to come home to this chaos day in and day out. But, when I say that I like "this", I mean in every way possible, that I like being alone. I want to be alone. Alone is better than being with him.
August 16th, 2003
As always, Beth knew the exact moment that I needed her, and she made sure to be there. I think I would have lost my mind about 7 years ago if I didn't have her to pick me up and put my disassembled heart back together. Beth has not only been my best friend since the 3rd grade, but, she has been my only friend since the 3rd grade. One might say that this is a bad thing. But, truthfully, I like this just the way it is. And, when I say "this", don't mistakenly think that I mean my life...because, you would be nieve to think that I would like my life, when I have to come home to this chaos day in and day out. But, when I say that I like "this", I mean in every way possible, that I like being alone. I want to be alone. Alone is better than being with him.
Belle
Creating Character Place-High School Student with OCD
Alexander had just started his senior year when he started feeling out of place. He couldn't help himself any other way then by avoiding the cracks, counting each and every red M&M before eating any, picking 7 flowers for Lirina, and lining everything in his house, car, locker, bookbag, etc. by size and color. Alexander painted his walls in his room white, so he could spot out every speck of dust. He also bought white carpet, dressors, sheets, pillows, and even more. Alexander had to vacuum his whole house twice, until the white carpets looked as if you could pick a piece of cotton from every square inch. He did this before and after school, every single day, forgetting his homework. An all A student was no longer making A's, nor B's, because unless he was surrounded in a sanitary environment, he'd have outbursts and tear everything up, just to clean it up two minutes later.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Homecoming week
I swear, every other week seems to go by so fastly. But, of course, the week that I want to end, just won't !! Well, anyways, this week is Spirit Week at school and a lot of people dress up as hookers and just very crude things. This kind of upsets me. I mean, I don't understand what girls find so appealing about dressing up as hookers . It really makes them look easy, and I feel bad for them. Guys these days don't want a girl like that to be married to . They want them for short satisfactions before they move on .
I know, I totally sound ridiculous. But, I don't understand why Jesus had to give His life up for such a world that no longer cares !! I use to know so many on-fire Christians. But, each year, I know less and less. All these teens are getting caught up in Satan's games and are being brain-washed by these short "earthly pleasures". I just hope that somehow this world is going to WAKE UP and have a revelation!!
Even though that was really bothering me, there is still more . I know that Alex has been my bestfriend for a few years now . And, now that we are actually thinking about dating...I am reconsidering . I don't want to lose him . And, I know that if/when we break up, that our friendship will never be the same again. I want him in my life forever . As a friend, or whatever. So, I really don't even know what I want at this moment. I mean, of course, I want to date him. But, I really need to pray about if this is the right thing . I don't want to ruin this friendship by a relationship .
So, let us begin on this topic of Alex. He is everything I could see myself loving . He is a Christian, which is the BIGGEST thing to me. He cares about others, he is somewhat of a weirdo (:, he can make people laugh, he is always nice, anyone who meets him, likes him. I don't even know . There is so much about him that makes me completely happy. I can be having a really horrible day (like today), and he can make me laugh and smile when no one else really can. But, is that because he is my best friend, or is that because he is like the other part ? Who knows, besides God ?! I DEFINITELY DO NOT !!!
But even after all of this, I am still not ranting on about how irritated I am with everything at this moment . I have to organize a Best Buddies meeting and have a bunch of people come and I need that by October 14 ! How can I do this ? No idea !! I will just have to get a lot of people's help, I guess...and, that isn't something that stresses me out a lot . But, on top of that, I work about 25 hours a week at my job, Walgreens. And, then, I also go to school. And, on top of that, my straight A's, are NO LONGER straight A's . I mean, seriously ?! I had a 4.0 GPA all through high school . And, I have to C's, 1 B, and 4 A's, now . One C being a 79%, and I couldn't even make it into the NHS!! This really upset me, too . But, of course I didn't let anyone know that . I just don't see how I am going to get a scholarship at this rate .
I am just so stressed out, and my bones/muscles hurt so badly !! I need to cry and take a long hot bath . But, it seems like I only have time to think about crying, and to take a 10 minute, lukewarm shower .... I HATE THIS POINT !! Everything was great last week...and, this week totally sucked !! I wanted to cry the whole time during FCA today..and it wasn't because God was touching me . It was because I was so emotional over all this crap that I couldn't even focus on God. And, I just was about to burst into tears at anytime. But, no, I wasn't going to let myself . I don't know. I just need to get some sleep and pray .
REVELATION 1:4A: GRACE AND PEACE TO YOU FROM WHO IS, WHO WAS, AND WHO IS TO COME.
Good night!! <3
I know, I totally sound ridiculous. But, I don't understand why Jesus had to give His life up for such a world that no longer cares !! I use to know so many on-fire Christians. But, each year, I know less and less. All these teens are getting caught up in Satan's games and are being brain-washed by these short "earthly pleasures". I just hope that somehow this world is going to WAKE UP and have a revelation!!
Even though that was really bothering me, there is still more . I know that Alex has been my bestfriend for a few years now . And, now that we are actually thinking about dating...I am reconsidering . I don't want to lose him . And, I know that if/when we break up, that our friendship will never be the same again. I want him in my life forever . As a friend, or whatever. So, I really don't even know what I want at this moment. I mean, of course, I want to date him. But, I really need to pray about if this is the right thing . I don't want to ruin this friendship by a relationship .
So, let us begin on this topic of Alex. He is everything I could see myself loving . He is a Christian, which is the BIGGEST thing to me. He cares about others, he is somewhat of a weirdo (:, he can make people laugh, he is always nice, anyone who meets him, likes him. I don't even know . There is so much about him that makes me completely happy. I can be having a really horrible day (like today), and he can make me laugh and smile when no one else really can. But, is that because he is my best friend, or is that because he is like the other part ? Who knows, besides God ?! I DEFINITELY DO NOT !!!
But even after all of this, I am still not ranting on about how irritated I am with everything at this moment . I have to organize a Best Buddies meeting and have a bunch of people come and I need that by October 14 ! How can I do this ? No idea !! I will just have to get a lot of people's help, I guess...and, that isn't something that stresses me out a lot . But, on top of that, I work about 25 hours a week at my job, Walgreens. And, then, I also go to school. And, on top of that, my straight A's, are NO LONGER straight A's . I mean, seriously ?! I had a 4.0 GPA all through high school . And, I have to C's, 1 B, and 4 A's, now . One C being a 79%, and I couldn't even make it into the NHS!! This really upset me, too . But, of course I didn't let anyone know that . I just don't see how I am going to get a scholarship at this rate .
I am just so stressed out, and my bones/muscles hurt so badly !! I need to cry and take a long hot bath . But, it seems like I only have time to think about crying, and to take a 10 minute, lukewarm shower .... I HATE THIS POINT !! Everything was great last week...and, this week totally sucked !! I wanted to cry the whole time during FCA today..and it wasn't because God was touching me . It was because I was so emotional over all this crap that I couldn't even focus on God. And, I just was about to burst into tears at anytime. But, no, I wasn't going to let myself . I don't know. I just need to get some sleep and pray .
REVELATION 1:4A: GRACE AND PEACE TO YOU FROM WHO IS, WHO WAS, AND WHO IS TO COME.
Good night!! <3
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Strange News
I wrote this in my Creative Writing class . If you guys remember all the hype about Armin Mueller, the German cannibal, well, this is about this story . I made this up completely, as if I were him .
As a young child, my imagination always wandered. I would dream, even while awake, about the taste of flesh. I went to the delis and would ask the butchers, but no one took me seriously. They would tell me to stop wasting their time or they "don't take kindly to no pranksters".
At age 21, I just got out of college and I got my job at a computer technological center. There, I sighted many meaty men and my desires for human flesh arouse once again. I also noticed that I was attracted to almost every single man at this job. But, not one woman attracted me. There was even a time that I nearly vomited when Lucy, our secretary, was hitting on me.
By age 37, I still hadn't tasted human flesh, besides when I consumed others in my dreams. Oh, how I wanted to just eat what my stomach craved, but, not one deli, not even in China, had the meat of a human.
After celebrating my 40th birthday, alone, I decided to take my thoughts and make them into actions. I pasted an ad in several newspapers and even on the internet for another male to let me devour them. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, without a single response. Discouraged, I still paid the dues every week to have my ad up every week. A few more months dragged by, when I checked my e-mail. "FINALLY", I screeched, "A RESPONSE"!!!
The man was 43-years-old and his name was Bernd-Jurgen Brandes. He told me that he would love for me to decapitate him and fry him up for dinner. He told me that it would make his God and his family proud. He wanted to sacrifice himself to do something brave for once in his lifetime.
On December 25th, 2002, at age 41, I finally tasted the exquisite taste of human flesh. This was the exact moment that I realized that McDonald's was not only about 1600 calories per McChicken, but it could not even compare in taste to a fried Bernd-Jurgen Brandes sandwich!
As a young child, my imagination always wandered. I would dream, even while awake, about the taste of flesh. I went to the delis and would ask the butchers, but no one took me seriously. They would tell me to stop wasting their time or they "don't take kindly to no pranksters".
At age 21, I just got out of college and I got my job at a computer technological center. There, I sighted many meaty men and my desires for human flesh arouse once again. I also noticed that I was attracted to almost every single man at this job. But, not one woman attracted me. There was even a time that I nearly vomited when Lucy, our secretary, was hitting on me.
By age 37, I still hadn't tasted human flesh, besides when I consumed others in my dreams. Oh, how I wanted to just eat what my stomach craved, but, not one deli, not even in China, had the meat of a human.
After celebrating my 40th birthday, alone, I decided to take my thoughts and make them into actions. I pasted an ad in several newspapers and even on the internet for another male to let me devour them. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, without a single response. Discouraged, I still paid the dues every week to have my ad up every week. A few more months dragged by, when I checked my e-mail. "FINALLY", I screeched, "A RESPONSE"!!!
The man was 43-years-old and his name was Bernd-Jurgen Brandes. He told me that he would love for me to decapitate him and fry him up for dinner. He told me that it would make his God and his family proud. He wanted to sacrifice himself to do something brave for once in his lifetime.
On December 25th, 2002, at age 41, I finally tasted the exquisite taste of human flesh. This was the exact moment that I realized that McDonald's was not only about 1600 calories per McChicken, but it could not even compare in taste to a fried Bernd-Jurgen Brandes sandwich!
Busy Day, I'd say.
After not feeling so good and leaving school early yesterday, I had way too much to catch up on . But, I did it (:
This day was hectic, since it wasn't a normal day. at all . We don't have school tomorrow, so today wasn't a block day, and well, lunch was not only until after 6 . But, I had to take two test, which I aced both :P (especially my Analysis of Functions, thanks to Joey) . After that, I went to FCA for about 5 minutes, wrote down a prayer request for my pastor's grand daughter, who had just past away, at age 5, from a brain tumor . Right after that, I told them I'd be back, ran across campus to the Best Buddies' meeting (I am a officer in that club). After an hour of going over all the dates of Best Buddies, I went back to FCA to spend time alone with God . I didn't want to sit by my friends or even the guy that I like (who is my best friend) . I just wanted to be alone, for once in my life, with God . FCA ended around 2:30 PM, and Alex took me home .
After I got home, Alex and I hung out in his car for awhile . And, I finally went in after about 10 minutes . I had about 30 minutes to just sit down, before I had to go to my OB/GYN . Not fun at all /: and, the fact that I never have time to just breathe made it worse . But, I went, and I was put on another pill called, "YAZ" .
After that, I stopped by Walgreens (one of my jobs) and asked if I could work . They let me . So, I went home, changed into my uniform, did my hair, and I left to go to Walgreens . I got about four extra hours of work . So, that was great ! I worked until about 10 pm . So, even though I was physically exhausted, I still put my smile on, and did what was needed . So, in all, today was a busy day .
THIS WAS WRITTEN YESTERDAY .
This day was hectic, since it wasn't a normal day. at all . We don't have school tomorrow, so today wasn't a block day, and well, lunch was not only until after 6 . But, I had to take two test, which I aced both :P (especially my Analysis of Functions, thanks to Joey) . After that, I went to FCA for about 5 minutes, wrote down a prayer request for my pastor's grand daughter, who had just past away, at age 5, from a brain tumor . Right after that, I told them I'd be back, ran across campus to the Best Buddies' meeting (I am a officer in that club). After an hour of going over all the dates of Best Buddies, I went back to FCA to spend time alone with God . I didn't want to sit by my friends or even the guy that I like (who is my best friend) . I just wanted to be alone, for once in my life, with God . FCA ended around 2:30 PM, and Alex took me home .
After I got home, Alex and I hung out in his car for awhile . And, I finally went in after about 10 minutes . I had about 30 minutes to just sit down, before I had to go to my OB/GYN . Not fun at all /: and, the fact that I never have time to just breathe made it worse . But, I went, and I was put on another pill called, "YAZ" .
After that, I stopped by Walgreens (one of my jobs) and asked if I could work . They let me . So, I went home, changed into my uniform, did my hair, and I left to go to Walgreens . I got about four extra hours of work . So, that was great ! I worked until about 10 pm . So, even though I was physically exhausted, I still put my smile on, and did what was needed . So, in all, today was a busy day .
THIS WAS WRITTEN YESTERDAY .
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