Quarter 2 Reflection

Personally, I have really enjoyed my first semester in creative writing. Writing poems and narratives has definatley been my strong suit. My favorite thing to write are personal narratives, but I add my own creative voice as a writer into each piece to make it interesting. With every piece I write, I feel like I grow stronger as a writer and learn to better develop my ideas. This semester has helped me to find my voice as a creative writer and learn to express my thoughts in interesting ways. I have really grown to love writing and expressing myself through my writing over the course of this semester.

By the end of the year, I would like to have a lengthy personal narrative written. Probably around 10-12 pages. I would love to create a detailed, moving piece to give readers an example of my writing. Additionally, I hope my writing will evolve so I will be able to get a bigger audience for my work. Along with a personal narrative, I would also really like to write a great poem. Each piece I write will get me even more prepared for these long term goals.

Waiting.

  I looked around the cold, dull room, wondering when I could escape. I had been sitting there for what felt like hours, waiting to walk into the office and talk to the 'doctor'. I knew she wasn't the kind of doctor that took my temperature or gave me cough medicine, she was something else.
  How did my life end up this way? Just a few months ago everything was perfect, then I throw out my lunch a few times and decide I don't want to eat every meal and everyone thinks I've gone crazy. I wasn't crazy. I knew I wasn't.
  All I wanted was to tell that woman I didn't need her help; I was fine. I laid my fragile, bony arm against the wooden chair I was sitting on. No matter what I did, I could not find any comfort as I sat in that dreadful room.
  I didn't want to talk to this stranger, this unknown woman I was forced to see, but I didn't have a choice. My parents said I just had to. But why, why!? There was nothing wrong with me! My mom sat in the chair beside me, filling out paper work with my name written on every page. I was so nervous, vulnerable, scared in that moment. I didn't know what details she was sharing. I didn't know what this woman knew about me. I didn't know what was going to happen to me next.
  My mind was strong, but my body was too weak to fight my fate. I knew I would be dragged into that office and held there as the 'doctor' tried to pry out the words "I have a problem" from my sealed lips. But the thing is, I didn't. At least I thought I didn't.
  I tried hushing the whispering voices in my head.
"You can still lose more weight, you're fine, don't tell her what's really going on."
 At this point, I didn't know what I felt anymore. Was I angry? Anxious? Or just afraid to face the fact that maybe I did need help?
  "Mom, how much longer are we going to wait here? I want to go home. This isn't fair I don't want to be here!" I whined.
  "Sam, we've only been here for 5 minutes! Relax! You need to talk to her, you don't have a choice."
  Only 5 minutes? Why was time moving so slowly? I wanted to dart out of those large, imprisoning doors and make all this end. I needed some time alone, some time to think and calm down. I was not going to share my thoughts with this woman. She couldn't make me speak. I would simply sit there and wait until my hour was over, then come outside and silently endure the car home.
 "Samantha, she's ready to see you now," the overweight woman behind the desk in the washed out, grey shirt said to me.
"Great."

Memoir Ideas

1. Seeing the baby kangaroos in Australia

2. Walking on the beach at night in Hawaii

3. Saying goodbye to my Grandma

4. Driving around in the car listening to music during the summer

5. Going to lunch with my grandparents over the summer

6. Recieving my 16th birthday present

7. Wiz Khalifa concert

8. The day I got my puppy!

9. Sitting in the doctor's office waiting to go into my appt.

10. The day my boyfriend asked me out

Monologues

Characters: Jake & Matt

Scenario: Jake wants to ask out a girl from his school, Olivia, but he doesn't exactly know how and he is nervous, so he asks Matt for advice because Matt is very good at talking to girls and all the girls love him.


JAKE
"Matt, I seriously just don't know what to do. I like this girl a lot, I've never met someone so pretty and down to earth. But what am I supposed to do?! How am I supposed to ask her out on a date? I get so nervous around girls, I'm not as smooth as you. You make it look so easy. I really, really, REALLY want to make this one work out. I don't want to freeze up and embarrass myself like I usually do. Olivia means a lot to me, and she told one of her friends that she likes me too and that she is just waiting for me to make a move. Ugh, I can't stop rambling! I just need some help! This is driving me crazy.  I want this to workout, but I'm so nervous. And what if she doesn't actually like me and it was just a rumor?! AHHH! Please just give me some advice, this can't end badly I'll be crushed."

MATT
"Dude, chill out. If you know she likes you, It's not a big deal. I get so many girls because I am relaxed, not as pent up and worried as you."

JAKE
"Matt, that isn't good advice."

MATT
"Ok listen, Jake. You like this girl a lot, and she clearly likes you too if she was talking about you to you're friends. You always freak out around girls because you fall so hard for them and want everything to go perfectly."

JAKE
"Matt, still not really helping. Just tell me exactly what I need to do to get her to go out with me."

MATT
"Go up to her and ask her a question about, um, I don't know, homework or something. Then once a conversation is started, casually ask her what she's doing this weekend. If you approach it as if you're formally asking her on a date, like 'Hey wanna go out with me saturday night?!' you seem eager and honestly just plain annoying. Be like, 'The new spiderman movie looks really great, I really wanna see it saturday night'

JAKE
"But then how is she supposed to know that I want to go to the movie with her if I don't specifically say, 'Will you go with me?'

MATT
"If she's into you, she'll get the hint! She isn't an idiot! She will probably say 'Oh, well I actually wanted to see that too,' Then casually and calmly say 'You should come with me, it won't be any fun seeing it alone anyways'

JAKE
"But how do you know she'll say yes."

MATT
"BECAUSE SHE LIKES YOU!"

JAKE
"Bro, calm down. Alright, if you say so, I mean I trust you're advice considering every girl in this school is practically drooling over you.

MATT
"There she is, sitting at that table next to the chemistry room. Go sit down with her and start a conversation before her friends come over and the opportunity is gone. You got this, Jake."

JAKE
"Alright, yeah, I got this." he mumbles to himself as he walks towards Olivia

Room 928

Each uncomfortable, struggled breath she took made me flinch. Would this one be her last? To watch such a strong being face defeat was too confusing and heartbreaking to fully comprehend. Nothing could numb the pain that was taking over my heart as I watched her unwillingly lose her battle against her precious life.

"Stay strong, grandma. Don't give up, keep fighting." I gently whispered into her ear.

I wish I could have saved her. I wish I could have changed the outcome of the situation, but all I could do was talk, try, wish for something better than the reality at hand. I knew she was slipping away. There was no hope in a miracle saving her and washing away all the horror I had faced.

"You'll be ok, right? You'll be ok! Please just tell me you will make it, please!" I wailed.

I could not even count the number of tubes, pills, and needles I saw being forced into her motionless body that day. I knew it was the end, but even then I still had a distant hope of the doctor walking back into the room and telling me she would be ok, telling me he had found a cure.

I was first handedly witnessing a murder; The vicious cancer was killing her from the inside out, showing no shame and refusing to stop hurting her.
Her cold, still fingers interlocked with mine.

"I won't let go, I promise. I'll never let go." I said as a hot stream of tears dropped onto her unappealing, stale hospital gown.

Again, I got no response.

I knew she felt my presence around her and heard my cries, which was the only comfort I found as I sat in the dull, quiet room.
She could hear the love in my voice, the concern, the devastation.
The worst part of it all was knowing that this would be her last day in this world, her last chance to breathe in the same air as me, even if she needed tubes and nurses to help her do so.

"Wake up, Grandma. Please, for me, just wake up."

It was hopeless.

It was strange knowing I was about to lose her. The thought of life without her sent a chill up my spine. I was about to face a quiet, boring world.

I did not want to have to say goodbye to her, my grandmother, my best friend, the happiest, brightest person I had ever known. She was my life line. I relied on her advice for nearly everything. Her careful, wise advice.

Even as tubes were wired through her body, needles were sticking into her delicate, bony arms, and heavy pain medication paralyzed her fragile body, she was still so beautiful.

I ignored the bruises, her washed out, dull skin, the dried blood on her face and wounds. Those did not stop her from being beautiful. Those marks were not part of her; They were marks left by her killer, cancer. Reguardless, no blemish could hide her stunning allure. She would forever be beautiful to me.

I closed my eyes and pictured her just a month earlier, laughing as the warm summer sun danced over her. She sat on the brick steps underneath the big red awning, smiling as she held my grandfather's hand. I consumed one delectable french macaroon after another as I listened to the numerous life stories she was sharing with us. Her peach cheeks and rosy lips made her look so alive.

I opened my eyes and looked at her pasty white face; This was my new reality. She was not the same.
As hard as I tried to make myself believe she would be ok, believe she would wake up healthy and be the same person she was merely a month ago, I knew she would never be that shining, strong, lively person anymore.

Days passed in the same, slow cycle. I sat holding her delicate hand for hours on end in between fits of tears and frustration as she laid there, frozen.

The gentle voice of Van Morrison ran throughout her room. Van Morrison was her favorite artist, so I didn't let a second go by without his music filling her ears. I knew she could hear it, and if she were capable of doing so, she would have smiled.

I sat next to her listening to the song "Brown eyed Girl". She used to always call me her brown eyed girl. I got lost in the music; It was my only escape from the situation.

"Someone get a nurse!" My grandfather bellowed in distress.

An endless outpouring of blood began to drip out of her nose and mouth onto her chest.

I let go of her hand and darted down the never ending hallway, whispering "I'll be right back," as I left. I felt like I was moving in slow motion, I could not reach the nurses soon enough. Each stride took so much effort. Was I running through quick sand? My legs were giving out, and the hallway kept stretching, keeping me farther and farther away from the nurses. If something happened to her it would be my fault because I couldn't get there fast enough.

Once I reached the young woman behind the desk, I yelled "Get a nurse over to room 928, Now, NOW! Please she needs help!!!!"

As the nurses quickly moved towards that dreaded, dismal room full of heartbreak and sorrow, I collapsed onto the floor. I stayed there for what felt like hours, sitting in a pool of my tears. Through blurred vision, I saw the sihlouettes of doctors rushing towards that terrible room with needles and unusual tools.

This was the end. I gathered my strength and slowly made my way back, one slow, heavy step after another.

My mother was wrapped in my father's arms, bawling into his broad chest, as my innocent, confused brother sat in the corner watching the madness, not knowing what else to do.

And my grandfather, my poor grandfather, gave the love of his life one last kiss on her gentle lips. As he pulled away from her face, blood was smeared on his cheeks. I wiped his face with a towel and told him I loved him. I didn't know what else to say to him.

I stared around the room at all the chaos, then back at my grandmother. Through all the commotion, all the people playing with her body in hope of helping her, she remained still and lifeless.

Hope was an empty, meaningless word. There was no such thing as hope anymore, no so such thing as a miracle. All I knew now was devastation.

Every doctor in the room suddenly went silent, and the cacophony of noises coming from the machine attached to her stopped .

"It is time to say goodbye" said the nurse with curly, chestnut brown hair.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes.

She didn't move or talk, she just stared. She knew her time was running out. I will never forget the way she looked at me in that moment. Her tired, bloodshot eyes met with mine, and I knew what she was trying to communicate... goodbye.

She struggled to keep her eyes open in the midst of everyone's screams and tears. But still, I stayed silent, holding her hand, just watching her. A troubled breath made it's way out of her dying body. It was her last.

As her eyes gently shut, I looked up at the doctor. She took her hand out of my grasp and felt her fragile, bruised wrist.

"She's gone." the doctor mumbled.

All that was left now was a body. A barren, lifeless body.

"Goodbye, Grandma."

Reflection of Quarter 1

This semester has taught me to express my creativity through all types of writing. Whether it is poetry, 6 word memoirs, or short stories, I have learned to let my voice really shine through my words. I envision myself carrying on expressing my voice in simple, short works next semester and far in the future because that is how I best organize my writing. I would eventually like to create a short booklet of all my poetry works. As a second project, I would love to write a detailed, lengthly personal narrative. I love putting lots of effort into my writing because it feels great when a person reads something I have written and feels heavily impacted by my story. Learning to accept my creative voice as a writer and incorperate it into each piece I work on has majorly helped me develop my writing this quarter, and I can't wait to continue developing my voice in writing for the rest of the school year.

Good Morning

As I peacefully laid underneath the cool, soft, freshly pressed sheets, I had never felt so at ease. The gentle warmth of the summer sun peered in through the window and danced over my body. I took long, deep breathes, savoring the crisp scent of the dewey morning trees outside.
There was something so beautiful about waking up with no worries, no stress, no unnecesary anxiety.
So far, every morning this summer began with a stream of tears leaving my innocent, chestnut eyes.
But this unusually lovely morning was unlike most.
My head sank further down into the heavenly pillow underneath me.
I felt calm, peaceful. This was the first morning in months I had not woken up to a dull, grey world. The spontaneous rush of happiness within me that morning was like no other. I couldn't remember the last time I saw beauty in the world, all I had been exposed to was darkness. But after that morning, obtaining true happiness was such a elementary concept. Waking up each morning and simply not caring about anything in the outside world brought me serenity. I finally understood how to get by. I wish that simple, yet profound moment in time could have lasted forever. No more pain, no more troubles, no more distress.

Inside

I let him in.

He learned my secrets,

saw my scars,

won my trust,

then broke me.

Love is nothing but an empty word now.

Thorns

She was delicate, gentle, beautiful.

Soft to the touch, with an enticing, pleasant fragrance.

Her milky white complexion was flushed with rosy cheeks.

She radiated love and passion, yet embodied purity.

Her simplicity was delightfully romantic.

She was the most elegant, picturesque being I had ever laid my eyes on.

Yet, she came with thorns.

An uninviting, displeasing feature that masked her extraordinary beauty from others.

Providing protection from the world, yet concealing her innocence and fertility, her thorns made it nearly impossible for others to see past her surface.

She would not blossom into a proud, passionate, vibrant creature; For her fear of only being seen for her thorns held her back from opening up to become vulnerable, to reveal herself.

But I saw her for who she truly was.

She was not a fierce, dark creature.

A tender, good natured soul unseen to most because of how she appeared. 

Others could not bathe in her beauty.

They could only avoid what they thought she was, without ever knowing how lovely she was inside.

Response to Robert Herrick's Poem

Although you say to gather my rosebuds while I may’,

You’re baleful ideas mean nothing to me,

Because I wish to savor each day.

So please, just let me be, and set me free, I no longer want to hear your plea.

The sun shall rise and set whether I am old or young,

So for now I’ll embrace my innocence and relax.

And please sir, bite your tongue!

You’re discourteous words won’t make an impact.

I don’t want to soil my youth,

My lifestyle is benign,

The way you think is quite uncouth,

My purity can only be washed away with time.

Just as the moon lights up the dark, night sky,

My innocence illuminates me,

In all honesty, I’m a bit sheepish and shy,

So please hush, and I will love when I am ready.

6 word memoirs

I always fight the wrong battles.

I tried so hard for nothing.

I won't let go until death.

She wasn't even a good person.

Being positive will change your life.

In the end, It'll be okay.

Feelings; Why can't we destroy them?

Lost in thoughts, needing an escape.

It was all a devious lie.

I am simply a lost soul.

No one else can control you.

Makeup, Hair, Jewels, yet still ugly.

Take advantage of each precious day.

Today is just not my day.

You are definatly my worst enemy.

Please, just stop talking. Sincerley, me.

Broken

Each time I laid my eyes on her, I felt more and more lonely. I will never understand what he saw in her. All that was visible to me was a seductive, selfish, demonic, and dishonest high school girl.
Knowing that I wasn't good enough for him while she was made me die inside. My heart had been defeated in every which way possible because of her. He said he was caught up in the mood of the night when she slyly persuaded him to leave behind the empty beer bottles and pounding music to follow her into the dark, concealed room.
I had never been so dedicated to anyone before him. Knowing that I made him happy filled me with warmth.
But, I now know it was all fake. It was merely a twisted game he was playing with my naive, fragile heart.
He broke me, yet I still felt weak without him. Living in a world where he wasn't entirely mine made me go numb.
His betrayal will forever haunt me and make me question what I did wrong to deserve such disloyalty from him.
To me, he wasn't just another person I passed in the hallways whom I had no connection to. He was my other half, and I could never be myself again without him. I could never obtain true happiness. I could never wake up another morning knowing everything he claimed he felt for me was reality, and not just a devious lie to blind me from what was truly occurring behind closed doors.
I was broken. And at this point, there was no hope in mending my hollow, empty heart.

Disturbingly Beautiful

It was a dangerous obsession.
With each bite, I became more and more of a failure.
All I wanted was to feel thin.
Through my twisted, deranged eyes, bones were golden.
A defined collar bone. A disgustingly weak wrist. Legs so miniscule that people would stare and whisper to their piers when they laid their eyes on me.
Just the thought of obtaining that body unleashed a disturbing smile across cold, pale face.
Every morning, my first thought was "How many hours will I go today without eating?"
I wanted forever to be the answer.
Nothing made me happier than feeling my body disinegrate and grow more fragile after each passing day.
I would not give up.
Not until I reached my goal.
When I finally had a beautiful, skeletal figure, I would let go.

As I lie here now, lifeless, still, paralyzed, I have never been happier.
All the pain and suffering was for my benefit; It made my flawed wish finally become a reality.
Although I could no longer move about the world and spend each day torturing myself with the revolting food everyone else seemed to enjoy, I was free from the chains that held back from enjoying my life in the only form that would truly make me happy.
I had finally let go.

The simple things

Maybe all it takes is a hug, a compliment, or a smile. Maybe all it takes is a cup of tea, sunshine, or staring at the sparkling blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. It is the little things we take for granted in our daily lives that in reality, mean the most to us. Imagine living a life without chocolate, a best friend, or you're favorite movie. Life would be empty. Where would you find comfort? How would you obtain true happiness? These miniscule parts of our lives make up who we are. So, with each passing day, count your blessings and be grateful for the simple things in life, because without them you wouldn't be who you are today.

Three Words- Personal Narrative

I had never experienced a feeling like it before. Every time he looked at me, I got lost in his dark, intense eyes and a tingling sensation dominated my body. 

His charming laugh was music to my ears. He had a distinct, fresh aroma that for some reason mesmerized me. Truly every little detail about him made me blush, almost as if it were automatic. 

Although for a while, It was a twisted, unexplainable romance. I wasn't even sixteen years old and I had already had my heart broken to pieces by him. I had never felt so lonely, betrayed, and worthless when he shattered my delicate heart that was solely devoted to loving him. 

"I love you" used to be three meaningless, empty words because of him. But it was so different now. "I love you" wasn't just a worthless stream of words he would utter at me with his powerful, sonorous voice anymore. 

His demonic, confused, chaotic mindset which fueled him to damage me so deeply in the first place had vanished. All that was left now was the warmth that filled my heart everytime I heard his name, everytime he kissed me, or everytime he gently held my hand.

"I love you" was the simple, yet beautiful phrase that fully summed up what I felt about him. 

"I love you." Three endearing, truthful words that would forever make me remember how special he was to me.