“Stop! No, seriously! I can’t take it!” Miranda couldn’t stop giggling, no matter how hard she tried. She swatted at Josh’s hands, tickling her under the shade of a large oak tree. Finally able to break away from his grip, she ran toward the corn field, taking the time to turn her head and shout back, “Ha! You can’t catch me now!”
It was a fortunate day for her, the wind providing an ally as the corn stalks rustled, faintly covering the sound of her footsteps barging through the brush. She could hear his playful threat, calling after her: “You can only hide for so long!”
Breaking out into a fit of giggles, she collapsed, out of breath, hidden in the corn, grateful to have a fun distraction from the day. Josh heard the footsteps cease and sneaked over. Pouncing at her, he threw her over his shoulder as she emitted a surprised yelp.
He carried Miranda through the corn field back to his truck – parked on the dirt road – just a ways away from their favorite oak tree. Still laughing quietly, she began to teasingly beat on his back, crying out with indignation. “Put me down!”
“What’s in it for me?” Josh challenged.
“Huh?!”
“If I put you down, what do I get in return?”
“If you put me down… I promise I won’t kick your butt for at least an hour.”
“Hmm, that is a very tempting offer,” he began as he slowed down. “Or I could take you to my truck and have my way with you!”
That received a swift kick to his shin and an exasperated huff from Miranda. She wouldn’t tell him, but she was relishing this contact, knowing that this would almost definitely be one of the last times she had this proximity to him, doubting they would ever be together again.
Compromising, Josh plopped her down at the tree and hurried over to his truck. Miranda often teased Josh, saying the only reason she loved him was for his truck: a sexy blue Ford F-150 with just enough rust and dirt to show that it had been put to good use.
Josh started the battery of the truck, enough for the radio to come to life, and they caught the end of Nancy Lynn saying her uniform, yet peppy, “and this is the Kix 96, Savannah’s Country Leader” trailing into the Zac Brown Band’s “Chicken Fried.” Josh opened the truck’s windows and turned the volume up so they could hear it from as far away as the oak tree. Miranda, loving the new single playing, took Josh by the hand. As much as she acted the part of a tough, fun-loving country gal, she still had a terribly romantic side to her. Pulling him to her, they danced by the tree, the sun shining down on them with a slight breeze tickling their hair, Josh’s cowboy hat casting a shadow across his face. She leaned her head against his shoulder and felt the softness of his plaid, flannel shirt. Savoring the time she had left with him, she inhaled through her nose and detected a faint smell of burning wood, her favorite; Josh had been working in the shop that morning.
“Chicken Fried” came to an end and Emerson Drive’s “I Should Be Sleeping” began. Josh, still holding Miranda’s hand, twirled her once around and caught her. He pulled her up into the bed of the truck, where he kept blankets. They laid there and continued to talk, watching the sun sink lower and lower in the horizon. Their hands were clasped and Josh moved his legs so they were entwined with Miranda’s, his Tony Llama boots bumping her Durangos. He shifted his arm so it was around Miranda, her head nestled against his shoulder. Their thoughts kept drifting to tomorrow, although neither said anything about it.
They sat there for a while, enveloped by a stillness, framed by the fading sun. The sky nearly dark, Josh turner to Miranda. “Should I call Jimmy and Brad and see what they’re up to?”
“Sure!” Miranda agreed. She was going to miss them, too, and wanted to see them before the big send-off.
Pulling out his phone, Josh punched the numbers on the keypad and waited until Jimmy picked up. “Hey, what are you guys up to?”
“Not much- just hanging around,” Josh informed Jimmy. “You and Brad wanna meet up?”
“Sure! At the river? We can do some fishing, and give Miranda a proper last night in town!”
Upon hearing those words, Josh grew somber and muttered, “Yeah…”
“Ok! See you guys in fifteen.” Click.
“K, we’re going to go meet them at the riverside. Sound good?” Josh asked Miranda, carefully studying her every feature and memorizing them all.
“Great!” Miranda exclaimed as they both hopped out of the truck bed. They climbed into the cab of the truck and headed off to the river. It was a ten minute drive, and Miranda and Josh spent most of the time in silence. Miranda was taking in the sights of her home town, committing it to memory. True, she didn’t want to forget about this place – she had some amazing memories there – but she had been given an escape, and couldn’t imagine coming back. With her forehead pressed against the cool car window, she looked at the shops they were passing: cute stores that had been boarded up long ago, restaurants that hadn’t opened their doors in months, the single factory that was barely still in business. It was a fun town – everyone was nice and knew all of their neighbors – but she needed to get out, she needed something bigger, better.
“Watcha thinking?” Josh asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Nothing,” she smiled at him.
He didn’t believe her, but he responded with “Ok,” ending the conversation. He took hold of her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
Finally at the river bar, they climbed out of the truck, dust from the dirt road still settling around them. They walked over to their favorite rock as they waited for Jimmy and Brad, who came pulling up a few minutes later
“Hey, guys! What’ve you been up to today?”
“Oh, this and that,” Jimmy replied. “How ‘bout you two? Enjoying your last day together before Miranda leaves the state?” Brad swiftly stepped over and elbowed Jimmy in the side, muttering, “Shut up” in Jimmy’s ear. “C’mon buddy,” Brad chided Josh as he playfully punched in the shoulder. “We still have 10 hours before Miranda becomes ‘Ms. College Student!’”
“Besides, North Carolina isn’t too far away!” Jimmy was trying to help, but was silenced by a glare from Brad.
“So are we going to fish or what?” Miranda interjected. Disrupted from the awkward, failing conversation, the boys jumped to life. The four friends settled down and let their hooks, bait-less, sink a little ways into the flowing water.
As it got later, the air grew cooler, so Josh went to his truck and grabbed some blankets while Jimmy, Brad, and Miranda packed up the fishing gear. Josh tossed two of the blankets to Jimmy and Brad then wrapped the third around Miranda and himself. They sat together on the rock, staring up at the night sky.
“Not to be a sappy sentimentalist, but the stars are really pretty tonight.” Miranda sighed as they all stared up at the sky together.
There was a long pause until Josh finally said it. “This time tomorrow… You won’t be… You’ll be… in a different state. At school. With people. Just… remember us, the ones that stay around here, OK? You know I’m going to be working. I’ll save up money; I’ll buy that cute house, the one with the big porch. Just… don’t forget about me.”
She was shocked! Josh hadn’t even let on that he was worried about anything like that; she thought that he had just been going through what they were both feeling: the depression of separating. But she had thought about it. The memory of the first time he pulled his truck up her gravel driveway popped into her head. The dust of the gravel, picked up by the tires, was blowing in the wind and surrounded Josh as he stepped out of his truck. She remembered holding her breath, waiting for him to show up, knowing he was about to ask her father for permission to date her. Back then, she thought they would spend forever together, but they had reached the night before life goes on, and she could see the bigger picture. She loved Josh, she really did, but she was going on to college- she was getting a degree, moving to a big city. She was going to make a name for herself; he was going to work in the run-down factory. That was not the life she wanted.
“What?” She rolled over to face him, and, kissing him on the cheek, whispered, “I’ll never be able to forget you.” She needed to let him know that she would never forget him; she wouldn’t always love him, but she definitely would never forget him.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Junior Year: Bring Caffeine
It’s thirty-two degrees out; snow, sleet, and wind have overwhelmed all motivation. The recommendation was voiced: “Let’s go see a movie!” The movie-goers traveled to the ever-convenient fandango.com for a list of movies and times; their disappointment grew as the movie list was perused.
“Twighlight?” One person suggested.
“Twighlight?! Who wants to go watch a movie about a guy that’s a vampire, a girl that falls in love with him, and a vampire that has to protect the girl?!”
“OK, forget I said anything…” Came the mumbled response, quieted from the uproar.
“Rated R… Already seen it…” The list continued to disappoint.
“What about Bolt? It could be cute.” The anxiety of being immediately rejected was clear.
“If you want to waste your time and money watching a cartoon about a stupid stunt dog learning what the real world is like, be my guest.” Once again, the retort was cruel and cutting.
“Wait! Four Christmases could be interesting!”
Surprisingly, no one had a strong argument against that movie and the four movie-goers clambered into the car and drove off to the Rivertree Court Movie Theater.
Roughly two hours later, after suffering through an hour and twenty-two minutes of the movie, the spectators clambered out of the car back at home, still in a daze from what they had just witnessed. The list of actors that made up the cast was quite impressive, contrary to the movie, which had produced an uncharacteristically predictable movie that was, at best, mildly entertaining. There were Oscar winners such as Robert Duvall, Sissy Spacek, Jon Voight, and Mary Steenburgen. The two main actors were Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon, both well-known and typically well-liked actors. These two were supposed to be in their dream relationship; their chemistry on the set failed to convince the viewer as the hulking, occasionally crude Vaughn was paired with the “southern gal” I always picture from movies such as Sweet Home Alabama and Walk the Line. The supporting cast didn’t fit in with the awkward couple and seemed like they were off in their own world. The film was quite an embarrassment for all involved.
As for the plot… The movie started off cute enough: a man and a woman in love. There are disparities from the norm of stories of lovers, however! Neither have any interest in getting married, for fear of making their relationship more like a job, or having children to tie them down. These points are stressed drastically throughout the movie which makes the ending predictable to the observer from the very beginning.
Then, as the couple finishes lying to their parents, making excuses about why they won’t be there for Christmas, one of the funnier parts of the movie, the airlines cancel all flights due to weather (another unpredictable turn of events? I should say not). Of course, the couple then has to go spend Christmas with their families at four separate locations because both of their parents are divorced. At this point, it could be stated that the beginning was somewhat cute and amusing; just as my hopes were going up, however, they plunged down, crashed, and burned. To get a few cheap laughs, there are vomit jokes and people falling off roofs; how that is funny, I am unaware.
Four Christmases tries to incorporate the typical fear of returning to their families for the holiday, the horror that occurs, the fights that result, the embarrassing stories parents share with their children’s significant others, and awkward situations that ensue. The movie then tries to intertwine deep, sentimental messages of marriage and the importance of family, believe it or not! Nothing in the movie comes as unexpected. The writing failed to captivate the audience and the attempts at “feel-good,” “importance of family” moments are feeble and transparent.
So as not to spoil the end for anyone still hopeful of seeing a cute, entertaining movie, I will attempt to refrain from outlining every detail. However, five minutes into the movie, every viewer will already know what the outcome will be. Be warned: have caffeine before going so as not to fall asleep.
“Twighlight?” One person suggested.
“Twighlight?! Who wants to go watch a movie about a guy that’s a vampire, a girl that falls in love with him, and a vampire that has to protect the girl?!”
“OK, forget I said anything…” Came the mumbled response, quieted from the uproar.
“Rated R… Already seen it…” The list continued to disappoint.
“What about Bolt? It could be cute.” The anxiety of being immediately rejected was clear.
“If you want to waste your time and money watching a cartoon about a stupid stunt dog learning what the real world is like, be my guest.” Once again, the retort was cruel and cutting.
“Wait! Four Christmases could be interesting!”
Surprisingly, no one had a strong argument against that movie and the four movie-goers clambered into the car and drove off to the Rivertree Court Movie Theater.
Roughly two hours later, after suffering through an hour and twenty-two minutes of the movie, the spectators clambered out of the car back at home, still in a daze from what they had just witnessed. The list of actors that made up the cast was quite impressive, contrary to the movie, which had produced an uncharacteristically predictable movie that was, at best, mildly entertaining. There were Oscar winners such as Robert Duvall, Sissy Spacek, Jon Voight, and Mary Steenburgen. The two main actors were Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon, both well-known and typically well-liked actors. These two were supposed to be in their dream relationship; their chemistry on the set failed to convince the viewer as the hulking, occasionally crude Vaughn was paired with the “southern gal” I always picture from movies such as Sweet Home Alabama and Walk the Line. The supporting cast didn’t fit in with the awkward couple and seemed like they were off in their own world. The film was quite an embarrassment for all involved.
As for the plot… The movie started off cute enough: a man and a woman in love. There are disparities from the norm of stories of lovers, however! Neither have any interest in getting married, for fear of making their relationship more like a job, or having children to tie them down. These points are stressed drastically throughout the movie which makes the ending predictable to the observer from the very beginning.
Then, as the couple finishes lying to their parents, making excuses about why they won’t be there for Christmas, one of the funnier parts of the movie, the airlines cancel all flights due to weather (another unpredictable turn of events? I should say not). Of course, the couple then has to go spend Christmas with their families at four separate locations because both of their parents are divorced. At this point, it could be stated that the beginning was somewhat cute and amusing; just as my hopes were going up, however, they plunged down, crashed, and burned. To get a few cheap laughs, there are vomit jokes and people falling off roofs; how that is funny, I am unaware.
Four Christmases tries to incorporate the typical fear of returning to their families for the holiday, the horror that occurs, the fights that result, the embarrassing stories parents share with their children’s significant others, and awkward situations that ensue. The movie then tries to intertwine deep, sentimental messages of marriage and the importance of family, believe it or not! Nothing in the movie comes as unexpected. The writing failed to captivate the audience and the attempts at “feel-good,” “importance of family” moments are feeble and transparent.
So as not to spoil the end for anyone still hopeful of seeing a cute, entertaining movie, I will attempt to refrain from outlining every detail. However, five minutes into the movie, every viewer will already know what the outcome will be. Be warned: have caffeine before going so as not to fall asleep.
Sophomore Year: Celebrate
Back and forth, the windshield wipers worked at full speed to keep the windshield clear. It was a pointless attempt, and the rain fell without fail. It had been one of those mornings, I remembered as I sat in my car, where you wake up and just feel depressed. You didn’t need a reason to be depressed, you just were. Well, for some reason, I just love those kinds of mornings. This feeling of inexplicable depression mixed with that smell of new beginnings. You know, that smell that comes when it rains. While I was making my daily commute to the city earlier this morning, I was thinking of all of this and how that depression was welcomed today. Despite the downpour, I had my window opened just a crack; I love the smell of rain. I was still worried about how today had seemed different. There was an additional feeling; I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. I continued to drive through the city; it was hard to see and the road was extremely slippery. As I drove, I saw cars that had skidded and crashed and became apprehensive of crashing myself.
It had taken me a lot longer than usual to get to the city. I got a red light and stopped. Off to the right, there were business men and women dressed in long overcoats with umbrellas. Others, without umbrellas, ran, heads bent low, holding newspapers and briefcases over their heads. As the light changed and I applied the gas, the unknown feeling grew. Still thinking about the morning, I remembered how I had realized I was feeling anxious. But not nervous-anxious; it was more of an apprehensive or wary kind of anxious. This anxiety was in the air, this aura that seemed to imply something ghastly would happen. I got these ominous presences sometimes. It wasn’t like a psychic power or anything supernatural like that; I just got these senses. Something almost always happens when I get these feelings, but it was different, stronger, today.
It hadn’t been a lousy morning, but I needed a little pick-me-up, so I grabbed a cup of coffee. My assistant entered my office with a list of people that I needed to call and a stack of forms that I needed to read and sign. It was just a typical, mundane day with the usual tasks.
I grimaced as I thought of how I hadn’t been able to find a very important document necessary for a meeting, the most crucial meeting of the quarter. Then the printer went on the fritz, printing multiple copies of things we didn’t need and did not print the documents I absolutely needed. After a disastrous meeting, it was finally time to go home. That anxious feeling was still gnawing at my mind as I walked down four flights of stairs. In my descent down to the parking lot, I stared at the bricks lining the stairs; I began thinking of what I would do when I got home. I’d probably curl up on the couch with my Chinese water dragon, and watch a movie. I realized I needed to run to the store for mice, crickets, and lettuce for her and was almost to PetSmart.
I went over to the fish department at PetSmart where they had the crickets and got four dozen large crickets. Then, I got the mice and paid. I made my way through the puddles back to my car, got in, and sat there. It had been a long day, and I couldn’t believe that this weather hadn’t let up at all. Then I remembered how earlier that morning, I had run in to a Starbucks in the city, a new one I hadn’t noticed before. The man behind the counter seemed to be around thirty-five, my age. He gave me his number and told me to call. I decided to give it a shot; it had been a while since I’d dated anyone, I was always so busy.
Knowing that Kameko, my Chinese water dragon, would be happy when I got home with fresh meat, I considered calling the man, Dierks. I started the car and pulled out. The windshield wipers still couldn’t do their job and I could barely see the car in front of me. The rain lightened a little bit and we began to pick up the speed on the road a little more. I had finally summoned the courage to call Dierks, and looked down at his number, written on a Starbucks napkin. I began dialing his number. All the sudden, as I looked up, I realized there were four stopped cars, completely blocking traffic, and I slammed on the brakes. I sat there thinking “man oh man, this is one bad day… there have been so many narrow accident avoidances.” Then, I heard a loud dinging noise and saw flashing red lights. It took me a minute, but then I realized that I was on the train tracks! I panicked and couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t go forward because of the car pile up, so I quickly threw the car in reverse and began to back up, but the train was coming too fast. I looked up at the rainy sky and felt like I wasn’t myself, but rather an observer, unable to do or say anything to prevent the surely terrible outcome.
I heard a clash of metal on metal and was slammed against something hard. Then I felt a lot of pain, but it was almost secondary to my thoughts. All I could think of was Am I dead? I recognized the pain, but it wasn’t overwhelming me like it should have been. The edges of my vision became dark, circling the image, just like in a movie. Despite my worries and pain, I chuckled: I couldn’t tell if I was dead or not, I heard people screaming, and yet I was comparing my life to a movie. The blackness overwhelmed me and everything went dark.
……………………………
“The doctors said she didn’t have a chance, that she was dead just moments after the train hit her, that there was nothing anyone could have done for her.” The speaker could barely talk; she was so upset, giving Merry’s eulogy. There were friends, colleagues, and churchmen standing around the empty gravesite in Washington Cemetery. “Merry has wanted to be buried here since she was a little girl, walking by this cemetery on lovely New York mornings. I always thought it was kind of morbid for Merry to think about this… at least we know she’s where she wanted to be.” She took a deep breath and wiped some stray tears away with a tissue. “But enough with grieving. She would want us all to celebrate the good times we had with her. Cry at weddings, laugh at funerals.”
It had taken me a lot longer than usual to get to the city. I got a red light and stopped. Off to the right, there were business men and women dressed in long overcoats with umbrellas. Others, without umbrellas, ran, heads bent low, holding newspapers and briefcases over their heads. As the light changed and I applied the gas, the unknown feeling grew. Still thinking about the morning, I remembered how I had realized I was feeling anxious. But not nervous-anxious; it was more of an apprehensive or wary kind of anxious. This anxiety was in the air, this aura that seemed to imply something ghastly would happen. I got these ominous presences sometimes. It wasn’t like a psychic power or anything supernatural like that; I just got these senses. Something almost always happens when I get these feelings, but it was different, stronger, today.
It hadn’t been a lousy morning, but I needed a little pick-me-up, so I grabbed a cup of coffee. My assistant entered my office with a list of people that I needed to call and a stack of forms that I needed to read and sign. It was just a typical, mundane day with the usual tasks.
I grimaced as I thought of how I hadn’t been able to find a very important document necessary for a meeting, the most crucial meeting of the quarter. Then the printer went on the fritz, printing multiple copies of things we didn’t need and did not print the documents I absolutely needed. After a disastrous meeting, it was finally time to go home. That anxious feeling was still gnawing at my mind as I walked down four flights of stairs. In my descent down to the parking lot, I stared at the bricks lining the stairs; I began thinking of what I would do when I got home. I’d probably curl up on the couch with my Chinese water dragon, and watch a movie. I realized I needed to run to the store for mice, crickets, and lettuce for her and was almost to PetSmart.
I went over to the fish department at PetSmart where they had the crickets and got four dozen large crickets. Then, I got the mice and paid. I made my way through the puddles back to my car, got in, and sat there. It had been a long day, and I couldn’t believe that this weather hadn’t let up at all. Then I remembered how earlier that morning, I had run in to a Starbucks in the city, a new one I hadn’t noticed before. The man behind the counter seemed to be around thirty-five, my age. He gave me his number and told me to call. I decided to give it a shot; it had been a while since I’d dated anyone, I was always so busy.
Knowing that Kameko, my Chinese water dragon, would be happy when I got home with fresh meat, I considered calling the man, Dierks. I started the car and pulled out. The windshield wipers still couldn’t do their job and I could barely see the car in front of me. The rain lightened a little bit and we began to pick up the speed on the road a little more. I had finally summoned the courage to call Dierks, and looked down at his number, written on a Starbucks napkin. I began dialing his number. All the sudden, as I looked up, I realized there were four stopped cars, completely blocking traffic, and I slammed on the brakes. I sat there thinking “man oh man, this is one bad day… there have been so many narrow accident avoidances.” Then, I heard a loud dinging noise and saw flashing red lights. It took me a minute, but then I realized that I was on the train tracks! I panicked and couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t go forward because of the car pile up, so I quickly threw the car in reverse and began to back up, but the train was coming too fast. I looked up at the rainy sky and felt like I wasn’t myself, but rather an observer, unable to do or say anything to prevent the surely terrible outcome.
I heard a clash of metal on metal and was slammed against something hard. Then I felt a lot of pain, but it was almost secondary to my thoughts. All I could think of was Am I dead? I recognized the pain, but it wasn’t overwhelming me like it should have been. The edges of my vision became dark, circling the image, just like in a movie. Despite my worries and pain, I chuckled: I couldn’t tell if I was dead or not, I heard people screaming, and yet I was comparing my life to a movie. The blackness overwhelmed me and everything went dark.
……………………………
“The doctors said she didn’t have a chance, that she was dead just moments after the train hit her, that there was nothing anyone could have done for her.” The speaker could barely talk; she was so upset, giving Merry’s eulogy. There were friends, colleagues, and churchmen standing around the empty gravesite in Washington Cemetery. “Merry has wanted to be buried here since she was a little girl, walking by this cemetery on lovely New York mornings. I always thought it was kind of morbid for Merry to think about this… at least we know she’s where she wanted to be.” She took a deep breath and wiped some stray tears away with a tissue. “But enough with grieving. She would want us all to celebrate the good times we had with her. Cry at weddings, laugh at funerals.”
Freshman Year: Chapter One
One Friday evening in the middle of winter, Ash’s parents, cleaning up after their silent meal, saw a silver Honda crawl to a stop on their driveway and watched as Chad helped their seventeen year old daughter out onto the icy asphalt. Neither parent really knew much about Chad, other than the fact that he was dating Ash. Both parents were watching the couple blunder on the driveway, and then stumble to their front walk leading to their front door. There was an awkward silence between the parents, which Ash’s mother, Becky, tried to fill. “So,” she began, “what do you think of Chad?”
“Chad? Who? … Her boyfriend, right? Um, dunno.” Mrs. Vickterson sighed inwardly at her husband’s response, wishing that just once they could have a decent conversation, with actual thoughts or feelings expressed.
“Have you… ever met him?” She questioned, in a desperate attempt to continue their conversation.
“Well,” replied Mr. Vickterson after a short pause, “I think I met him once… When he first came to pick her up. But I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything about him.”
“Carter, do you think it is so awful that we don’t know anything about our daughter, or her life?” The question was dripping with concern.
“Huh? Oh, I know plenty about her…”
“Oh really? How long has she been going out with Chad?”
“Umm… So what does it matter if we don’t know how long they’ve been going out? It’s just a boyfriend.”
“Never mind,” replied Becky. She left the kitchen with a sigh and rolled her eyes. On her way to the stairs leading to her room, she walked by the front door and saw Chad bend over and kiss Ash. Her vision of the two of them blurred as she proceeded up the stairs. She couldn’t help but recall those amazing days with Carter, before the love had left them. The smile she had seen on Ash’s bright, young face brought those memories flooding back and tears dripped down her face as she climbed stair after stair.
Sitting in the dark room all alone, Becky sat on the bed and thought. She had only been sitting there for a few minutes when the door creaked open and Carter entered, seeming to not notice Becky at all. He went into his walk-in closet and Becky heard a voice interrogating her from the other side of the closet door. “Why did you sigh as you walked out of the kitchen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just left to go to bed,” Becky responded as she began pulling her turtleneck over her head and slipped a white T-shirt on.
“You and I both know you have some problems with the way things are around here. I don’t know why. After all,” Carter continued, his voice steadily growing louder and more hostile, “I go and work my ass off for some decent money to keep this roof over yours and Ash’s heads! And what thanks do I get? My wife acts like everything that is wrong in the world is because of me!”
“Honey, I never said anything like that.”
At this point, Ash was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring out the window overlooking their front door, reminiscing about her amazing night with Chad e in, felt the lovely memories begin to run away, fleeing to the unnoticed corners of her mind. Instead, the voices from the room right next to hers, her parents’ room, grew louder and more hostile. She was sick of this! For seven years, she had endured her parents going through extreme screaming matches. She didn’t have to take it anymore. She saw her car keys right next to her cell phone, picked both up, took out a pen and paper, and wrote a note:
Dear Mother and Father,
I need a break from the yelling. I will not be gone long, just for some time tonight. While I don’t worry about either of you missing me, I thought I would leave this note just to let you know nothing is wrong. But do you guys ever drop these nightly arguments? It is tearing this family apart and I can’t take it.
~Me
As Ash laid the note down on her desk, she heard her mother’s voice ring loud as she defended herself. “You aren’t the only one who makes a difference in this family! I stay home alone and raise Ash, clean up, and do everything that keeps the house running smoothly!”
“And I am sure you would love to get a medal for that. After all, it is so challenging.”
With that, Ash grabbed her keys and her cell phone, tiptoed down the stairs, and out the front door. As she slid into the driver’s seat, she welcomed the calm, silent night. The car slowly crawled out of the icy driveway and onto the deserted road. It was dark by this time, so Ash was driving carefully. A lot of the roads in her hometown curved a fair amount. Ash had started to calm down and let the depression that sunk in whenever her parents bickered drift away with the gentle swaying of the car. All of the sudden, the car slipped and started spinning on ice on the winding road! Ash, not a fully experienced driver yet, slammed on the breaks, hoping for the best. The car skidded right off the edge of the road, through a useless protective guard rail, and hit the ditch lining the road. As the car hit the incline of a ditch lining the row, it bounced up and flipped over, sliding on the top of the car, crashing through branches into a small clearing in the woods surrounding the road.
Everything was extremely dark and as the car was spinning relentlessly, Ash caught a glimpse of lights. “But this is the middle of a forest,” she thought. “What are lights doing all the way in here?” At that moment, however, the car smashed directly into a tree. There was no immediate reaction to the horrendous crash, and Ash was so shocked she remained in the car. As she was sitting there, now on an odd angle from hitting the tree, she heard voices.
“D’you think we got anything to worry ‘bout with that car o’er there? And that person, whoe’er it is, still in’t.” questioned an anonymous voice.
“What do you mean?” Responded a second.
“Well, ya know, there is gonna be someone in the car, and we have to meet our customer here tonight.”
“We can’t have someone listening in on all that we say tonight. That crash had to have killed whoever it was driving,” reasoned the second man, still unidentified to Ash.
“Ya, let’s just go with that. Ah, look, our friend is arriving.”
“Let’s get this over with, this place gives me the creeps,” hissed the new arrival.
“Patience, Travis. We told you how this works. We can give you some of it now, the rest later. If you have the money,” responded the first man.
Suddenly the second man pulled the first to the side, away from Travis. “I have a bad feeling all the sudden, Keith. Something isn’t right here. Either he is a cop or someone around here is listening… And no one can hear this because we are already suspected crack dealers,” whispered the man.
“Zach, grow up. There’s always risks dealing crack to people.”
“Fine, but I am just saying that something is different tonight; it’s off.” With that, both men joined Travis.
“Here ya go,” said Keith, handing a bag of white powder to Travis in exchange for a roll of cash. As Travis grabbed the bag, it slipped out of his hand. “Dammit,” he cried, as he bent down to pick up the bag, oblivious to the tiny amount of powder that had fallen on the ground. He snatched up the bag, ran to his car, sat down with a sigh of relief, and pulled out of the clearing as fast as he could.
Ash heard voices filtering through the trees, but she was distracted by a blinding pain in her leg. That was when she realized she couldn’t move it and assumed it was broken. She saw the bleary silhouette of two men making their way in her direction and they looked dangerous. She thought it would be best if she tried to slip out of the car and hide. The amount of strength it took her, though, to put any pressure on her leg was draining almost all of her energy. She slid back down in the driver’s seat, panting. Now, with the pain lessening ever so slightly, she was able to concentrate on the conversation a little more.
“Maine’s winters are extremely cold,” shivered Zach.
“We will be back to the warehouse in just a few minutes,” said Keith as the made their way to the car. “It was a good idea to make that abandoned warehouse our hide out. No one’s been there in years.” They were almost to their car, which was on the way to Ash’s, when they heard a slight whimper come from the area around where the anonymous car had landed. Both men looked at each other in shock and horror as they went to investigate. They were almost positive that the crash would have killed anyone; it wasn’t the first time they had been wrong. As they approached the car, they saw a timid looking girl, sitting in the car, looking terrified and in pain. She heard one man, the less educated man she assumed to be Keith from what she had heard, whisper to the other man, Zach if she was correct, “She looks alive. Do ya think she heard anythin’ that we just said?”
“We can’t take a chance of her going to the cops, they’re already onto us. What should we do?”
“There’s always one way to solve problems like this,” he said as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small handgun. Then he turned to the girl. She had just let out a muffled sob in fear, exhaustion, and pain.
“You can’t kill an innocent girl!” exclaimed Zach. “She was only in the wrong place at the wrong time!”
“But what if she goes to the cops?!”
The last thing Ash saw was the man looking at his gun, then her, then Zach, and back at the gun. Then, everything went dark.
“Chad? Who? … Her boyfriend, right? Um, dunno.” Mrs. Vickterson sighed inwardly at her husband’s response, wishing that just once they could have a decent conversation, with actual thoughts or feelings expressed.
“Have you… ever met him?” She questioned, in a desperate attempt to continue their conversation.
“Well,” replied Mr. Vickterson after a short pause, “I think I met him once… When he first came to pick her up. But I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything about him.”
“Carter, do you think it is so awful that we don’t know anything about our daughter, or her life?” The question was dripping with concern.
“Huh? Oh, I know plenty about her…”
“Oh really? How long has she been going out with Chad?”
“Umm… So what does it matter if we don’t know how long they’ve been going out? It’s just a boyfriend.”
“Never mind,” replied Becky. She left the kitchen with a sigh and rolled her eyes. On her way to the stairs leading to her room, she walked by the front door and saw Chad bend over and kiss Ash. Her vision of the two of them blurred as she proceeded up the stairs. She couldn’t help but recall those amazing days with Carter, before the love had left them. The smile she had seen on Ash’s bright, young face brought those memories flooding back and tears dripped down her face as she climbed stair after stair.
Sitting in the dark room all alone, Becky sat on the bed and thought. She had only been sitting there for a few minutes when the door creaked open and Carter entered, seeming to not notice Becky at all. He went into his walk-in closet and Becky heard a voice interrogating her from the other side of the closet door. “Why did you sigh as you walked out of the kitchen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I just left to go to bed,” Becky responded as she began pulling her turtleneck over her head and slipped a white T-shirt on.
“You and I both know you have some problems with the way things are around here. I don’t know why. After all,” Carter continued, his voice steadily growing louder and more hostile, “I go and work my ass off for some decent money to keep this roof over yours and Ash’s heads! And what thanks do I get? My wife acts like everything that is wrong in the world is because of me!”
“Honey, I never said anything like that.”
At this point, Ash was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring out the window overlooking their front door, reminiscing about her amazing night with Chad e in, felt the lovely memories begin to run away, fleeing to the unnoticed corners of her mind. Instead, the voices from the room right next to hers, her parents’ room, grew louder and more hostile. She was sick of this! For seven years, she had endured her parents going through extreme screaming matches. She didn’t have to take it anymore. She saw her car keys right next to her cell phone, picked both up, took out a pen and paper, and wrote a note:
Dear Mother and Father,
I need a break from the yelling. I will not be gone long, just for some time tonight. While I don’t worry about either of you missing me, I thought I would leave this note just to let you know nothing is wrong. But do you guys ever drop these nightly arguments? It is tearing this family apart and I can’t take it.
~Me
As Ash laid the note down on her desk, she heard her mother’s voice ring loud as she defended herself. “You aren’t the only one who makes a difference in this family! I stay home alone and raise Ash, clean up, and do everything that keeps the house running smoothly!”
“And I am sure you would love to get a medal for that. After all, it is so challenging.”
With that, Ash grabbed her keys and her cell phone, tiptoed down the stairs, and out the front door. As she slid into the driver’s seat, she welcomed the calm, silent night. The car slowly crawled out of the icy driveway and onto the deserted road. It was dark by this time, so Ash was driving carefully. A lot of the roads in her hometown curved a fair amount. Ash had started to calm down and let the depression that sunk in whenever her parents bickered drift away with the gentle swaying of the car. All of the sudden, the car slipped and started spinning on ice on the winding road! Ash, not a fully experienced driver yet, slammed on the breaks, hoping for the best. The car skidded right off the edge of the road, through a useless protective guard rail, and hit the ditch lining the road. As the car hit the incline of a ditch lining the row, it bounced up and flipped over, sliding on the top of the car, crashing through branches into a small clearing in the woods surrounding the road.
Everything was extremely dark and as the car was spinning relentlessly, Ash caught a glimpse of lights. “But this is the middle of a forest,” she thought. “What are lights doing all the way in here?” At that moment, however, the car smashed directly into a tree. There was no immediate reaction to the horrendous crash, and Ash was so shocked she remained in the car. As she was sitting there, now on an odd angle from hitting the tree, she heard voices.
“D’you think we got anything to worry ‘bout with that car o’er there? And that person, whoe’er it is, still in’t.” questioned an anonymous voice.
“What do you mean?” Responded a second.
“Well, ya know, there is gonna be someone in the car, and we have to meet our customer here tonight.”
“We can’t have someone listening in on all that we say tonight. That crash had to have killed whoever it was driving,” reasoned the second man, still unidentified to Ash.
“Ya, let’s just go with that. Ah, look, our friend is arriving.”
“Let’s get this over with, this place gives me the creeps,” hissed the new arrival.
“Patience, Travis. We told you how this works. We can give you some of it now, the rest later. If you have the money,” responded the first man.
Suddenly the second man pulled the first to the side, away from Travis. “I have a bad feeling all the sudden, Keith. Something isn’t right here. Either he is a cop or someone around here is listening… And no one can hear this because we are already suspected crack dealers,” whispered the man.
“Zach, grow up. There’s always risks dealing crack to people.”
“Fine, but I am just saying that something is different tonight; it’s off.” With that, both men joined Travis.
“Here ya go,” said Keith, handing a bag of white powder to Travis in exchange for a roll of cash. As Travis grabbed the bag, it slipped out of his hand. “Dammit,” he cried, as he bent down to pick up the bag, oblivious to the tiny amount of powder that had fallen on the ground. He snatched up the bag, ran to his car, sat down with a sigh of relief, and pulled out of the clearing as fast as he could.
Ash heard voices filtering through the trees, but she was distracted by a blinding pain in her leg. That was when she realized she couldn’t move it and assumed it was broken. She saw the bleary silhouette of two men making their way in her direction and they looked dangerous. She thought it would be best if she tried to slip out of the car and hide. The amount of strength it took her, though, to put any pressure on her leg was draining almost all of her energy. She slid back down in the driver’s seat, panting. Now, with the pain lessening ever so slightly, she was able to concentrate on the conversation a little more.
“Maine’s winters are extremely cold,” shivered Zach.
“We will be back to the warehouse in just a few minutes,” said Keith as the made their way to the car. “It was a good idea to make that abandoned warehouse our hide out. No one’s been there in years.” They were almost to their car, which was on the way to Ash’s, when they heard a slight whimper come from the area around where the anonymous car had landed. Both men looked at each other in shock and horror as they went to investigate. They were almost positive that the crash would have killed anyone; it wasn’t the first time they had been wrong. As they approached the car, they saw a timid looking girl, sitting in the car, looking terrified and in pain. She heard one man, the less educated man she assumed to be Keith from what she had heard, whisper to the other man, Zach if she was correct, “She looks alive. Do ya think she heard anythin’ that we just said?”
“We can’t take a chance of her going to the cops, they’re already onto us. What should we do?”
“There’s always one way to solve problems like this,” he said as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small handgun. Then he turned to the girl. She had just let out a muffled sob in fear, exhaustion, and pain.
“You can’t kill an innocent girl!” exclaimed Zach. “She was only in the wrong place at the wrong time!”
“But what if she goes to the cops?!”
The last thing Ash saw was the man looking at his gun, then her, then Zach, and back at the gun. Then, everything went dark.
Welcome!
Welcome to my creative writing blog! This blog provides a collection of samples of my writing, ranging from Freshman year through Senior year. The purpose of this blog is to explore my growth as a writer and reflect on the years past.
As a whole, I believe that my main improvement was picking topics to write about. As I read through my old work, I found really strange topics, and realized that the writing wasn't all bad, but because of the topic I was writing about, the piece came across as basically awful.
Other improvements include finding my own voice, incorporating dialogue more (and making that dialogue somewhat more realistic), and, of course, better grammar and sentence structure. My greatest catalysts for my growth was my teacher edits on writing workshop pieces. Sophomore and Senior year, I had teachers that gave great feedback. If there was something wrong with my work, they didn't sugar-coat it and say "Oh, it looks great. Good effort." But rather, they told you exactly what was wrong and what needed to be improved. I also had friends that really helped by editing my work and giving me helpful constructive criticism.
With my writing improving every time I put a pen to paper (or at least, as it hopefully improves), I continue to experiment with different themes and styles, and I hope to be able to find that genre that I can really write about and include more dialogue rather than narrating the whole piece.
With that, enjoy!
As a whole, I believe that my main improvement was picking topics to write about. As I read through my old work, I found really strange topics, and realized that the writing wasn't all bad, but because of the topic I was writing about, the piece came across as basically awful.
Other improvements include finding my own voice, incorporating dialogue more (and making that dialogue somewhat more realistic), and, of course, better grammar and sentence structure. My greatest catalysts for my growth was my teacher edits on writing workshop pieces. Sophomore and Senior year, I had teachers that gave great feedback. If there was something wrong with my work, they didn't sugar-coat it and say "Oh, it looks great. Good effort." But rather, they told you exactly what was wrong and what needed to be improved. I also had friends that really helped by editing my work and giving me helpful constructive criticism.
With my writing improving every time I put a pen to paper (or at least, as it hopefully improves), I continue to experiment with different themes and styles, and I hope to be able to find that genre that I can really write about and include more dialogue rather than narrating the whole piece.
With that, enjoy!
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