Short Story Saturday!

It’s hard for me to write about myself and then share it with other people. Sure I’ve put parts of myself into characters but that’s different. Not everyone knows everything about me and when I put small things like opinions or feelings in my writing someone reading it won’t always know. This is me using my safety net to break away from my comfort zone a little. Writing allows me to branch out and move forward, to grow. I’m thankful I’m a writer because it makes me feel good to write. Whenever I’ve had a rough day I can always go and write about it or just sit down and write something, and then I feel better. Writing is something that allows me to be creative and express myself. I’ve never considered myself a creative person or an artist but I’ve come to realize that there are many forms of artists; there’s painting, drawing, music, photography but mine is writing. Writing is the way I make something, and even though I rarely share all of it with people I still feel great doing it. Putting pencil to paper, fingers to keys, no matter what way it happens it clears my mind. When I write it feels like I’m taking words out of my head and putting them somewhere else. My mind is cleared and I feel better. I can escape from everything and dive into something else. I love how you can write about anything you want to. If you don’t want to be where you are in the moment you can put yourself on a beach somewhere or anywhere else you want to go. If I don’t want to be sitting at home, doing homework, I can take a break and write about being somewhere else. I could go anywhere with a piece of paper and pencil. I am thankful I’m a writer.

Short Story Saturday!- A Captivating Presence

I’m sitting a room, only lit by the almost overcast sky that shines through the windows, reading from my kindle. This is a place that, even early in the morning, explodes with chaos but today no one’s even bothered to turn the lights on. Although nothing special, like a long weekend, made this Monday morning harder than previous ones, it was clear that this sluggish mood would define the rest of the day. I'm not alone. He is also in here, the one I’ve mentioned before, pacing from instrument to instrument. My eyes follow his every move, completely forgetting my book. I try not to let him catch me watching him but I know he’s seen that I’m here. He doesn’t move like today’s a groggy Monday morning, he walks swiftly and with purpose. I suppose that’s simply his walk. A walk with meaning and destination.

He handles each instrument with careful calloused hands, and it’s beautiful. Without knowing a thing about him you can tell that his respect for each one is a mountain's worth. I’ve known him for almost four years now. We’ve played music together, in this same room, filled with other people playing too. We’ve gone to movies, walked on the beach, and sipped hot chocolate together. I have shared many deep and meaningful conversations with him and him with me. All these memories and yet I can’t find anything to say to him. I keep opening my mouth to say something but each time I bite down on my lips to close it. I really don't know what to say. Do I tell him that just his presence captivates me? I’m sitting here, my hands starting to sweat, holding another world in my hands but the only thing with my attention is him. I can’t go back into my fantasy world, I can’t even tear my eyes away. Should I tell him that being in the same room as him causes my heart to race? My hands that usually shake with chills could burn through the floor with just a touch. My face burning as red as a fireplace. My heart beating faster than a drum. Why can’t I say how I feel? How do you tell someone you’ve built a friendship with that you secretly hope your hands touch in the dark movie theater? How do I tell him that every conversation rings word for word through my head days later?

My attention snaps back to focus. He’s moving towards the door now, maybe the bell rang while I was lost in my thoughts. Just before he goes, he turns around and looks at me. His eyes are so intense they’re hypnotizing. A smile is spread across his face. He lifts his hand and gives a swift wave. For a split second, he doesn’t move, it looks like he’s going to say something. Then the moment passes and he turns back towards the door and goes on his way. I didn’t tell him anything and probably never will. I’m happy where I am. I love what we are. The thought of ruining that is terrifying. So this right here remains a secret. May it never past the confines of this single sheet of paper for if it did I would never be able to forgive myself.

Short Story Saturday!- Little One

Right now you radiate sunshine, brighten everyone’s day. You’re innocent, and still dance around the living room in your footie pjs to the music in your head. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny are all real. Eyelash wishes come true, dream catcher work, and everyone gets a happy ending. Daddy loves Mommy, Mommy loves Daddy, a big happy family. You live in a big house with a trampoline in the back yard. You’re surrounded by a horde of cats that let you dress them up and pull them everywhere you want. The world is perfect and at peace. There is no war. What even is politics? Your dreams soar at great heights. You want to be a farmer and cook for people with ingredients from your farm. You live off of late nights and Cocoa Puffs. Second graders can be mean, school is early, and sometimes hard. You’re past 2+2 and your reading level is higher than the rest. Chapter books are more fun than the books you have to read. Baby sitters are over rated. Why do vegetables even exist? Asleep before 9? Please. You’re 7 now that obviously means you need to stay up an extra hour or maybe two. You’re growing up but at least boys are still gross and pull your hair. Barbies are still your favorite toys. It’s still fun to color pictures of imaginary beings and put them on the fridge. Your height is documented on the doorway, and you ask to check if you’re taller everyday even if you haven’t grown. You will not say goodbye to your invisible friends for a little while longer. We all have a little longer where you still stand on our toes and have us dance around. I never want you to stop being little, no one ever does but someday you’re going to drive yourself to the movies, read bigger books, and live on your own. Someday the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus will be strangers. You’ll learn about war and the lack of peace we have. Footie Pjs won’t be your go to dance outfit and your pictures won’t decorate the fridge. It happens to everyone, and it will happen to you. Just don’t let it happen too fast, give us time to breathe.

Happily Ever After by Kiera Cass

This is definitely a selection lover book. It is filled with wonderful short stories about Amberly, Maxon, Celeste, Aspen, Marlee and some other stories to add to the Selection. I loved this book because I just loved the whole Selection series and seeing behind the scenes of different characters and what happened afterwards. Like the Selection this book has many reviewers who either hate this book or love it. First of all, why would you read this book if you didn't like the selection series and then write a review complaining about how you didn't like it? Please don't read this book if you didn't like the Selection series. If you loved the Selection series, like me, you will also love this. This book gives you stories about Marlee, and Celeste as well as stories about what happened to everyone after the selection.

Books like this!
The Selection Series by Kiera Cass (obviously)

Check it out!

After Everything Broke by Me!

As I stepped outside I urged myself to run. I would have left to see the world, every last inch of it. I would have gone, if I could but instead I just stood there willing my feet to move. The cold, frosty grass glued my feet in place, as the crisp morning breeze called to me to go further. I thought about how everyone at one point in their life must want to run away, maybe not as much as I did, maybe just far enough to know they’re safely away from anything burdening them.

I dreamt of running as far as my feet could take me. I planned to go far enough that no one here in my small town would ever be able to find me. I wanted to run and only stop when there was absolutely no hope of ever returning. I wanted to go, I wished with everything I had that I could go, and part of me needed to go, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

I was going to run far far away, to get away from the stuff I constantly had to deal with, and away from all my pain and troubles. I would have ran to a place where I could have been me and no one would want to change who I was. I would go far enough away thatπ eventually they'd all forget who I was, and no longer care about the things I did. I couldn’t help but think that everything would be better if I ran. No longer would I hurt the people I loved, and it would make it easier for all of them to move on. Eventually, I hoped, they would only remember the bad things I did and they would learn to hate me. No one would miss me, I was almost sure of that. Running away sounded so good.

I was going to run away as far as I could… until I 

realized that if I did, then I'd lose you, and that is something that I never could do. So please forgive me for the events I have caused, and help me fix everything broken. I can’t do it on my own.