Family Ties.

You know, when I think about it, the only thing that is bothering me about my life right now is the fact that I live everyday knowing that I have an unhappy family. But you see, no one really cares. No one in my the-people-I-see-everyday-

when-I-come-home family I mean. Well, besides my mother that is. No one else is going to change anything about their behaviors anytime soon. I have a father who dislikes animals very much, especially animals in the house, and everyone else in the house loves animals very very much, especially in the house. Lovely isn't it? Can you imagine the arguments! Trust me, you don't have to live with them... every single day. I try my best not to be here as often as I can, to be honest. It helps me stay at least a little sane. My father never helps. My mother says, well he doesn't do anything, so why should I. He sees that she's not doing anything, and he says, well she's not doing anything, so why should I? They act like a couple of regular children, I'm telling you. My sisters. If one doesn't do anything, the other says the same thing. Well she isn't, so why should I? It's a never ending cycle. This is only talk about helping around the house! You can't imagine how wrong one small little discussion can go. Everyone contradicts everyone. We all have the greatest differences. None of us are alike. I think if there was a contest for the least-like-a-family family in the world, I think George Gray would pop out of thin air laughing hysterically, and say, 'You ARE the weakest link'. Seriously, that wouldn't surprise me. My parents haven't spoken to each other as if they were both human beings in months. All my sisters do is nag the both of them, which makes everything even harder. I just don't understand why my father doesn't want to try to love my mom anymore. I don't understand why my mom won't stand up to him. I don't understand why my sisters hate my dad so much, just because he can't give them everything in the world that they want. I don't understand lots of things. But one thing that I do understand, is that we all desperately need help from somewhere, and I don't see that help raising a hand and saying 'over here!' anytime soon. Help is too busy with everyone else right now. We must be on the bottom of the list. I don't really know either of my parents. I know that I have a very kind-hearted mother, and a very set-in-his-ways father, and that they clash worse than orange and blue. I know that I have a very self centered sister, and a very set-in-her-ways-vegetarian-I-don't-care-about-you-go-die sister, and that I pretty much don't get along with either of them. I know that my father has money, but he isn't willing to share. I know that my mother needs money, and she isn't willing to tell. I know that my sisters want everything, and they aren't willing to shut up about it. I know that I have a real problem with all of this, and I'm too afraid that no one will care to tell. I'm too afraid my sisters won't listen. I'm too afraid my dad won't act according to my words. I'm too afraid the truth will deeply upset my mom. I'm too afraid that if I tell, I won't feel any better. I just hope that someday, when I have a family of my own, things will be so much better, so much happier, and that my family will always love one another. I hope that this hope will one day turn into an action, and that it won't be so hard to get there. Maybe one day, I won't be afraid to tell anymore. Maybe...

Goodbye Old Woman.

His pace was faster than usual that day. The clouds were beginning to darken, as if a spring storm was on it's way. There weren't as many people walking as there usually were, but nevertheless it was still a crowded sidewalk. That's usually how things ran in New York. Everything was crowded, all the time. But he was one of those people, that tended to look at their shoes as they made their way, and yet he always knew were he was, and if he was ever in danger of tripping. The noise was the same as every other day, loud honking horns, people yelling profanities, construction work in the distance. He missed the silence. As he neared the intersection ahead, he could see an elderly woman, attempting to make her way across, but she was walking so very slowly... He quickened his pace. There weren't that many kind-hearted people left in the world, and he intended to keep himself in that category. Almost to the edge of the sidewalk, he heard a loud noise coming near. Before he had time to look around, a large dump truck hit the old woman with tremendous force, knocking her to the ground so fast it looked like the special effects of a horror movie. His heart froze in his throat. People around him were screaming, but he dared not look. He dared not cast his eyes at the sight, for he knew how terrible it must be. But he couldn't keep his eyes away. He saw her. He looked directly at the bloody mess in the middle of the road. "Oh my god," he said. He repeated this several times, before he got out his phone to call 911. He had a bad taste in his mouth, and he was sick to his stomach. He slowly walked toward her. "Oh my god," he said again. He could no longer hold in the tears. They were not so much tears of sadness, but tears of shock. He hadn't known this woman, and yet the gore and terror of her death has sparked pity and fear in his heart. He would be forever scarred. The man who had been driving the dump truck got out, and screamed like a child, running from the monster in his closet. Perhaps this was one of them now, for him. The very back of his mind being the closet, and what he had done, being the monster. This monster would haunt him for the rest of his life. He looked upon the driver with pity, and then his eyes again befell the mess on the road. The woman's scalp had been torn backwards, revealing the peak of her skull. Blood covered what was left of her face, and her lower jaw had been severed. Her tongue hung out of her throat like a dog's from the edge of his mouth on a hot summer day. People were still screaming. Her left leg had been twisted backwards, and was barely hanging on by a thin piece of mangled skin. Blood was running along the road like a growing puddle, a little girl somewhere in the crowd was wailing. One of the old woman's ears was laying in the middle of the street, next to a tattered piece of her hand. The body was completely mutilated. He could no longer look at the woman. This would be a monster in his closet, too. For the rest of his life, this woman, this sight, would haunt him in his most terrifying nightmares. He turned down the sidewalk. Home, and his children far from his mind. All he could think of was that woman's face. Her scalp pulled back, and her lower jaw missing. He stopped. He dared not look back. It started to rain. Suddenly everything went black.

What makes me smile.

His laugh. His smile. His eyes. His touch. His kisses. His embrace. His sweet sweet gaze.
The sky. The birds... singing. The wind, pushing us all along. The trees, and their silhouette against the dark night sky. The moon. The pouring rain. Piles of colorful leaves in the fall. Cool air that smells of the earth... being inside a cave. Exploring through the woods on a beautiful day. Watching water fall. Playing in a waterfall. Climbing tree trunks. Riding Bella bareback. Swimming in lakes, and rivers. Animals. Darkness. Walking in the dead of night.
Who doesn't love physical humor? Sarcasm. The stupidest things you could possibly think of. Making people smile.
Writing. Reading. Drawing and doing it well. Singing. Getting along with the most unlikely of people.
The strangest of beauties. Oddness. Unexpectedness. Illusion. Spontaneity. Strangeness. What I know that you don't know that you know I know and you'll never know.

For My Future.

Lately life at school has been non-existent, simply because I have been refusing to go. I do plan on graduating high school, I know I need an education to have a future, I don't know why I stopped going. I think it is because I am naturally lazy, as are all humans. My depression and mood instability issues probably don't help this. I've been on so many medications its insane. I cannot blame all of my insufficiency on a few bumps in my road, and yet that is what I have been doing. But now is my chance to start anew at a new school... with new people... I am honestly looking forward to starting over. No matter what it takes I will beat my mind this time. I will succeed. No more excuses, no more procrastination, no more laziness. I am rising out of this depressive hell hole I like to call my imagination. I miss my old one, and I will fight to bring it back.
I am transferring to a new school within a week from now, and I know it will be hard. Especially since my love will not be attending with me. But I know that I need all distractions put aside while I'm at school so that I can succeed. I need to focus on studying and doing my homework and such to get acceptable grades and do well. I plan on going to U of L as soon as I can afford it, and I need all of the help I can get. As much as I like to write, draw, and work with horses, I cannot spend my life being a hobo who does nothing but sit around being lazy all the time. I need to begin focusing on my future. My problem is that I never really think about what might happen later if I don't do this, or what future hirer may think of what is on my record. I live in the clouds! I never exist in reality, I act like everything is a dream that will go in my favor eventually, that I don't have to do anything to get it there. This is not so. Maybe one day I will learn. I am really looking forward to my second chance. But as of now I feel as if I'm in a prison that I put myself in.
I'm looking for new opportunities. To find something, you have to get up and look for it. No one is going to bring it to you. apparently this is what I've been thinking for the past 2 and a half years. I've been through just about everything that should have told me otherwise. I just wouldn't listen. But I swear I will listen now. I have too many things going for me to not be trying. I'm an acceptable artist and horse trainer, for such a young age. I would like to become a better writer. The only way I will get a career in something I am passionate about is to work for it, and do well in school. I guess it is time for me to start.

A Fairy's Story Part I.

The birds are singing beautifully on this day. They seem so happy to awaken to the beams of sun sneaking through the crooked branches that surround me now. I know that I am happy to be here. Walking along this man-made trail in this beautiful forest, I automatically feel my spirits rise. Rise even higher at the sight of a clear stream ahead of me. I'm almost tempted to drink from it. It's small luminescent waves peak just enough to carry a few oak leaves along with it's current. The warm air around me fills my soul with laughter. What a beautiful day this is! How happy we all who enter here are to be alive! Oh, the magnificence nature will share with you. And yet, suddenly I feel a presence. I am no longer alone. I feel something watching me. Something that is almost burning a hole through my shoulders with it's gaze... I turn around, but nothing is there. But I can feel it, I know its there. I can almost hear a faint breathing. But before I have a chance to look further, I hear a faint voice. "Over here child," I hear it say. It was the very faint, almost silent voice of an elderly woman. I turned once more but I could see no one. "Look in the tree darling," she said. But there are so many trees! How am I to know which one to look in? Then my eyes fell upon a very large one with a noticeable hole right in the middle, at my eye level. I looked inside and my eyes were filled with surprise. It was a fairy. "Hello, my sweet." She said weakly.
"Your-your-y-... a fairy! I would never believe it!" I was so very excited, a real fairy, how could it be so? I thought they were something I could only dream of. And yet this was the saddest looking fairy I could have ever imagined. The woman had long, black stringy hair, that had a total lack of sheen. Her wings had no glow, and were ripped in several places as if a dragonfly had flown straight through a thorn bush. She was a pathetic sight, and I couldn't help but feel sympathy for her.
"What is left of one, love." She closed her eyes sadly.
"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to you?" I couldn't help but be curious.
"Humans happened to me, my dear. What terrible creatures most of you are. Don't get me wrong sweetie, there are a very, very select few in which I hold some respect. Namely untainted children, such as yourself, but all others are destructive mosters whom I think deserve to become part of a dragon's cake." What was dragon's cake? A cake made specifically for dragons? Hmmm...
"I see. I understand. Anything that would do this to such a nice creature must have evil deep inside." I had to agree with her. Humans are very self centered things, and I was one of them. How silly I felt talking to her... as if there was anything I could do to help her. She looked on the verge of death.

With Love.

Everyday, I think of him. His smile, his eyes, his laugh, his baby soft hair. Oh how I love to run my fingers through it... and entwine my fingers through his. Every time I see his face, a smile plays across my lips. Every time I feel his touch, warmth engulfs my heart. Words cannot describe the way I feel about him. He gives me such a lovely sense of reassurance, it is impossible to feel uncomfortable around him. When we embrace, all I can feel is love, and happiness. He always knows how to make me smile, make me laugh, cheer me up. I cannot stay angry or melancholy when I am in his presence. The connection I feel with him is unlike that I have ever felt with any other human being. We always share our thoughts, our dreams, our feelings, our wishes, fears, hates, and loves... I love him more than anything, more than words could possibly describe. I love his name... Avery Willman. Every time I hear it I feel my heart leap out of my chest. My love and I have shared one of the most amazing and yet forbidden experiences any young couple could possibly share. Oh how much closer it has drawn us! And what a beautiful thing! It will always be the utmost special experience I have ever shared with anyone. My darling, I will always hold you with love. Every adventure we ever tackle, we always go at as one. I have that craziness about me, where I do not think before I do things. That crazy that can sometimes be unhealthy. But your diffidence and your cautiousness will always even everything out between us, to where we have just the right amount of fun, and doing whats acceptable. Without you my love, I would be a wreck. Without you, I may even be dead. When I begin to slip into darkness, you always show me the light. My darling, I will always hold you with love, and I will love you forever and always. We share a love everlasting.

Official Newb.

Well I'm new here, as you probably have already realized. I honestly do not know how to work this not-as-simple-as-it-looks site, but I'm trying the best that I can. My main goal here is to become a better writer. I would like other people to understand what I'm about, and I would like feedback so that I know what to work on. I've been looking for a way to share my random writings, and it looks like I may have found it here. I hope to learn a lot from this, and I hope to grow as a young writer.
Writing is something I have only been doing continually for about the last year. Since my start I have nearly filled 2 notebooks full of words. I never knew I could enjoy it so very much. Writing relieves all of my thoughts, which is the liberation I so desperately require daily. If anyone out there has any tips for me, I would be happy to listen. Thank you!

The Judgemental.

Earlier today I had the 'pleasure' of talking with a woman that I haven't seen in quite a while. Since the last time I did see her, I have gained 10 piercings and some turquoise hair. Well apparently in her opinion, all of this so called 'hideous crap' makes me an ugly person who will one day have a criminal record. The second I take it out I would become pretty, and innocent again. Does a few piercings and some colorful hair really change who I am that dramatically that I become an ugly criminal? If we can't have fun with the way that we look, then honestly, what is the point?
Judgmental people make me sick. Just because someone looks a certain way on the outside, doesn't mean that it affects who they are on the inside. It deeply bothers me when someone makes a judgment about me before they even know me. Even when people do it to others that I don't even know. We all have the right to do whatever we want with our bodies. In my opinion body art is a beautiful thing. How can someone look at a man with long hair, and say that he is a troublemaker based on that observation alone? Only a small minded person would make such an assumption without cold hard facts. Jesus had long hair, did he not? Would you insult him the same way? You cannot assume a truth about someone until you've had a chance to get to know them. Remember this the next time you make an unfair judgment on someone.

Halloweenies.

Ever since I was a little girl, I always loved Halloween. I always loved to dress up, go trick or treating with my friends, and get creative with costumes. The only problem I had with all of this, was that I wasn't allowed to dress up as what I wanted to. I always had to go as an animal, or an angel, or an indian, or somthing that emphasized my innocence. My mother wouldn't even let me be a witch. What sort of insult to Halloween is this!
In my life's experience, Halloween is a time when all your greatest fears come alive. When all the fake blood you could possibly lay your eyes on is available at your local convenient store. When you can dress up as the scariest creature you could possibly imagine, and run up to random people to scare the living daylights out of them and get away with it. When you can go to any neighborhood around and go door to door getting free candy and show off your awesome costume at the same time.
What is it with all of these silly pumpkins, poke'mon, vegetables, and candies? Where, I ask, is the psychotic creativity!? Where is the horror? Where is the gore? Halloween is supposed to be scary, in my opinion. Dressing up as a lame food product, or some other cliche just isn't right to me. It is hooplah I tell you!
And what about all of these 'scary' haunted houses. Lets blame the feeble minded creators. What sort of 3 year old wants to go inside a haunted house? Why not leave the haunted houses for the ones that won't piss themselves when they are tapped on the shoulder in the dark, eh? Your supposed to be scared when you enter a haunted house, not full of laughter. Save that for a happier holiday. Trick or treat kiddies.
(Where is the justice!?)

When you run
Through the dark
There is a chance
You will fall.
But do you stop and wait for light?
Or do you run into the night?

Insane Corpse.

The case was officially closed. We solved the crime, we have all the victims, and we've caught our killer. There is only one problem. He's dead. That's right, sprawled along the bathroom floor of this godforsaken hotel, is the body of Michael William Edwards, serial killer wanted by the F.B.I. since 1998. The only thing more disturbing than his crimes, is the way we found his body. Every one of his fingers were cut off except a finger and a thumb. All of his toes were found ground up inside his stomach. One of his eyes were found salted on the counter. His tongue was stapled to a roll of paper towels. I'm sure everyone in Law Enforcement is saying what the fuck right now. How could a man do this to himself? Simple. He was clinically insane.