The Swing

I swing,

The pink dress I wear dancing in the wind.

I smile for my suitors,

I don’t care for them though.

Dreams of far-off places fill my head.

I look to the future with hope.

One day, I’ll fly off this swing and land in a beautiful country.

For now, I’m stuck here,

Pretending to be happy.

Jean-Honore Fragonard

The Tower's Prize

            I ran forward, my hair flipping messily behind me. I knew that I’d be brushing out tangles for days. My lungs were burning and my legs were tightening up and I didn’t know if I’d be able to go any further along the rocky path that laid in front of me. Stumbling, I knew that I had to complete the mission that the king had assigned me. Otherwise, I feared I might be executed.

            I finally arrived to the tower that supposedly contained the prize. I circled it, trying to see if I could find any stairs, a rope ladder, or something. My search was without results. I sighed and pulled myself up the tower, glad that I had decided against wearing a skirt. My arms trembled as I tried to prop myself up using my fingers and toes. I finally pulled myself to the top of the tower.

            As I stumbled through the window, I looked around at the seemingly empty room. Great, I thought. I better flee the country because there’s nothing here. Then I saw a door, tucked behind a curtain. I decided it was worth a try and grabbed the cool, dusty doorknob.

            I pulled, and struggled to get the door open. I finally did and inside, I found a giant dog. Sighing, I pulled out my stash of dog treats so that I wouldn’t have to deal with him. He was the size of a pony. Dealing with those dogs was so much work.

            I looked around the room for treasure, stepping gently so I didn’t wake up the dog. He didn’t stir as I walked around. I started to get more frustrated because I couldn’t find anything. I exited the room and started to search for something else. I needed to discover what the king wanted or I would die.

            I tried to recall the words of the king. “Bring me back the treasure that the tower holds. It shouldn’t be too hard to see. It is the only treasure that the tower holds. You must bring it back to me as quickly as possible.”

            I had already run from guards, crossed fences and imaginary borders. I had even climbed this stupid tower. I gave the room another glance and didn’t find anything. I went to go reexamine the dog and to see if he was even alive still.

            Walking in, I said, “Here boy!” The dog instantly perked up and ran over to me. There wasn’t anything on the floor where he had been laying and I couldn’t find anything on his collar. I decided I might as well just take the dog with me, just in case.

            He stubbornly stood his place as I tied him to the front of me. I didn’t know how I was going to make this work. I managed to scale down the wall, losing my breath the whole time. By the time I got to the bottom, I was exhausted. But I knew that I had to keep going. I tried everything to make the dog move, but it wasn’t working.

            This was going to be a long walk and I hoped the king would be happy with his stubborn, slobbery prize.

Picture found at: http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/greatdane.htm

NaNoWriMo

     For the first time in the three years that I've participated, I finally completed NaNoWriMo. After writing for 25 days, I finally finished my first book. I wrote more than 50,000 words and now I'm so sick of that story. My arms started to hurt from all the writing and I had more than one late night. It was super difficult but I'm glad to finally be done. After a short break from it, I'll start editing. I can't wait but at the same time, I think I'll be okay for a while.

The graph of my daily writing.

Painting credit to: Debbie Rappaport-Pine

A picture that I like to pretend is my cover. Admit it, it's gorgeous.

Text Poem: Alone

All alone.
No 1 2 txt.
I sit on the crnr.
Waiting 4 the bus.
Writing this poem
to fill in the
emptiness
of being alone.

Now That I've Seen You

     I glance behind me, walking faster. I pull my cardigan closer around me. I know I'm being followed but I feel like I've seen this person before. Like they live in my subconsciousness. I keep turning at every corner, trying to escape the mans gaze.

     I finally hit a dead end. I guess I knew this would happen. My breathing quickens. "What do you want?" I yell.

     "Turn around. I'm not trying to scare you. Just look at me. That's all I want."

     I take in a deep breath, preparing myself to match the face to the soft, calm voice. I spin around on my heels, trying to act more annoyed than scared. The wind blows around me, the autumn leaves playing a melody in the air. Usually I like their music. Now it just sounds rushed and depressing.

     I stare into the deep, blue eyes of the man. I feel as if they're trying to drown me and I quickly pull my eyes away. He's young, appearing only a few years younger than me. A scar slices through part of his eyebrow. He seems so familiar, like a childhood friend.

    "Who are you?"

     He frowns, his face wrinkling up. He kicks the crumbling asphalt. Sadness lines his face. "You really don't remember, do you?"

Found on: http://autumncozy.tumblr.com/

There's So Much More To Me

     I glare at the guards, rubbing my sore, calloused hands. How did this happen to me? How did I end up as a servant? The memories all come rushing back, pushing the fogginess away. Watching my parents get killed, holding their hands as they died. I can still feel the hands that picked me up and pulled me away from them.

     My whole kingdom was overthrown. There was a great war, every man trying to protect his family. I remember the sharp smell of blood everywhere I turned. I tried not to pass out as I rode across the wet, red stained stones. I was taken as a prisoner.

     "Kayla, feel free to rest here as longs as you want," the king of Marwood said. And I did. I didn't feel safe with my enemies, the people who killed everyone I knew and loved. But I didn't care if I died. I felt numb. I missed my parents and all seven of my younger siblings. Why did I have to be the one to live?

     In the end, King Darwin wanted me to marry him. I told him no. He said I'd regret that decision. He'd turn me into a servant and after one day I'd come back crying. Begging him to marry me because I couldn't take the workload any longer.

     He didn't tell anyone I was a princess. The humiliation would be to great for him. Instead, he told everyone I was crazy and he was doing me a favor. I was forced to take dozens of pills, making me constantly drowsy, forgetful, but highly tolerant to pain. I suffered daily, slowly disintegrating more and more. I struggled, but refused to go back to the king. I couldn't prove him right.

     "Get back to work!" a deep mans voice rumbled as he whipped me. I fell to the ground with a cry. They'd find out I was the princess one day. They'd be sorry then that they treated me so poorly.

Found on: http://cupidscharm.blogspot.com/2010/10/white-pumpkin-adventure.html

Flash Fiction: The First Day of School

     I walked into the school, the dim lights fluttering off then back on occasionally. I pull the straps of my backpack closer to me and try to become invisible. Although it's the first day of school and no one knows each other, I feel so out of place. The only person I know is that random neighbor boy who came to introduce himself when we moved in a week ago. And I don't even really know him.

     I head to my first class, quietly staring at the ground. I bump into someone and fall to the ground. Did I mention I'm not the most graceful person? "I'm so sorry!" I say quietly.

     "Are you okay?" For the first time I look up. There I am staring into the most gorgeous eyes ever. And then I realize that it's that random neighbor kid. I panic. I was trying to avoid him at all costs.

     "I'm Tyler. You're new right?"

     "Yep." I thank him as he helps me up. I awkwardly point to my classroom. "I should probably go. I need to go get an education."

     He just smiles at me. "Alrighty. See you around." He walks away.

     I'm happy that he's gone. Not that he wasn't nice or anything, I'm just really awkward. I run into class before the bell rings. I close my eyes and sigh. So much for being invisible. But I can't risk anymore confrontations. I don't want to have to move again.

Picture found at: http://www.blogto.com/city/2008/03/high_school_hall_monitors/

Flash Fiction: A Cloud of Dust

     I glance outside and see a giant cloud of dust coming towards the town. I run outside and grab my two little brothers and tell them to go down into the basement. I grab as much food and water as I can and follow them down, shutting the door behind me. Why does everything bad always have to happen when my parents are gone?

     My brothers seem scared but they quickly fall asleep. I try not to panic as I wait for the storm to pass. The rumbling finally stops after a couple of hours so I go upstairs.

     The house had turned from pretty clean to horribly messy. I don't see anyone on the streets. I don't see anyone at all. Or any houses in my neighborhood. I turn around and I don't even see my house.

     I scream but I can't even hear my own voice. I don't know what to do. I'm all alone in this land full of dust. I curl up in a ball on the ground and try not to cry.

I got this picture from http://controlled-states.co.uk/giant-dust-clouds-roll-in/

Flash Fiction: Pink Cotton Candy

     I pull apart the pink cotton candy, my fingers getting stickier with every bite I take. I love the sugary feeling it gives me. I close my eyes, happy and content.

     I lean back, waiting for my boyfriend, Felix, to show up. I wait and wait and wait. I call him but he won't answer. Finally he shows up with two pink cotton candies.

     "How'd you know I wanted cotton candy? You're the best boyfriend ever, " I say hugging him. But I don't really mean it. He hates cotton candy. Something's wrong. He just smiles at my comment. Not his adorable smile with dimples. A timid, weird smile.

     He takes my hand and stands me up. We walk onto a bridge in the park. It's like a perfect movie in a movie. A movie that Felix would hate. Except it's not. Something's wrong. This isn't the place where he'll propose to me. He's going to break up with me.

     He doesn't look into my eyes as he says, "This isn't going to work anymore. I'm in love with someone else." He just walks away.

     I stare out onto the river, stunned. I never thought this would happen to me. But I don't think I'm sad. I feel fine. I push the confusion away and decide it's time to move on. I drop my cotton candy and walk away.

This picture was found on Google Images.

Flash Fiction: Lightning Storm

     A deafening crack sounds, making me jump, followed by a flash of light. The world has made its own terrifyingly beautiful firework show.

    I make hot chocolate and go grab a blanket from my room. I accidentally step on my dogs tail, the other half of him hidden under the bed.

     I watch this amazing show of lights while sitting on my couch. I'm glad I'm safe inside. Until I'm not. A crashing sound slams into my house. Sparks are everywhere. I grab my dog and run outside.

     I cry as I watch my beautiful home burn to the ground. If I hadn't been so distracted by the beauty, I would've seen how close it had become. And then maybe I'd be able to save some of my precious worldly things.

This picture was found at http://lakeandhomemagonline.com/2014/04/17/life-uninterurpted/

Flash Fiction: The Woman in the Wheelbarrow

     The woman was found in the wheelbarrow, as the hot sun hit its peak. She no longer had a pulse, her arms hanging down from both sides.

     She wore a short, black dress and her hair was done nicely. Her makeup was almost perfect. But something was off. Something didn't match. Was it her shoes? They seemed fine but one was missing. It was her necklace.

     The overly chunky necklace seemed out of place on such a small woman. Strangle marks peered out from underneath it. A shovel was found feet away from the wheelbarrow.

     That fall afternoon we didn't find the killer. He knew we were onto him. But we haven't given up hope. We're still onto him.

Eclectic Me

As a kid, I lived almost entirely inside books, and eventually the books started returning the favor. A lot of my internal world feels like an anthology, or a library. It's eclectic and disorganized, but I can browse in it, and that hugely shapes both what and how I write.

-Kathryn Schulz

That's how I feel about myself. As I write, it'll be eclectic and crazy. But I hope it'll spark some ideas. Something inspiring. Something beautiful.