I will no longer be writing on this blog. Please visit my other blog for more writing... if you want to. The link is http://www.kayla-knowthyself.blogspot.com/
Enjoy!!!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Poerty Contest
Okay, so I'm thinking of writing a poem or two for a poetry contest. Topic suggestions? I'm thinking some kind of emotion... but then again, it's a summer poetry contest for kids, and everything springing to mind isn't very... childish, to put it mildly. Anyways, I need IDEAS!!!
By the way... report cards next week. I'm kind of scared about my grade for Science, since I got one zero this semester and I don't know if I have enough other grades to balance that out. I'm expecting the worst, because that's just what I do. I'll try to post at least every week but no promises!
-Kayla
By the way... report cards next week. I'm kind of scared about my grade for Science, since I got one zero this semester and I don't know if I have enough other grades to balance that out. I'm expecting the worst, because that's just what I do. I'll try to post at least every week but no promises!
-Kayla
Thursday, March 25, 2010
CATS: first chapter
You know how some humans think other humans are crazy because they’re obsessed with cats? Well, some cats think other cats are crazy because they’re obsessed with watching humans.
Humans fascinate me. They’re so weird. I mean, why build a humongous city and cram so many people into it when there’s so much space out in the country? The only reason that I lived in the city was because of my sister Maple. She was a city cat. And, okay, I’ll admit it. I was a city cat, too.
My name’s Aspen, like the tree. An aspen tree. That was because my mother lived in a hollow underneath an aspen tree for a while. She was born there. My sister and I were born under a maple tree, so my sister, the firstborn, was named Maple.
My mother’s name was Mouse. Don’t laugh if you value your life. Her mother named her, and it was not her fault that she had such an embarrassing name. Shut up.
I lived in an old, broken-down building in an old, broken-down neighborhood. It was a nice place. Kind of. Lots of other cats lived in the neighborhood. The leader of us all was called Cloudy Day. She was light gray, and her eyes were a hard-but-see-through yellow. She was my best friend, besides Maple.
“Mommy, that pretty kitty just killed a squirrel!”
I peered down from the tree that I was perched on and hissed in disapproval. I’d thought that no one would be at this remote corner of Central Park this time of night, but there was a little girl, maybe five years old, staring up at me with wide eyes.
“Stay away from it, Maggie! It might have fleas!” the mother exclaimed, putting down the hand-held mirror she had been looking at.
Fleas. Yuck. I did not have any nasty fleas. My bright orange tail twitched. How dare this human say that I have fleas? Well, she could be saying a lot worse, but I hadn’t had fleas for almost two months now. Not a single one.
“I’ll call Animal Control,” the mother went on. “They’ll come and take care of it. Oh, my, think of the dangers of wild flea-ridden cats in Central Park. We might have the Black Death start again!”
Hey, Mrs. Paranoid, (a) you worry way too much and (b) I do not have fleas so please leave now because I’m trying to (c) enjoy my dinner.
Disgusted, I picked up my squirrel and leaped down from the tree. The Black Death? Get real. I bolted across Central Park and stopped at the road.
I’d learned by now that you had to wait for the crosswalk light to come on to avoid getting squashed by a car. On cue, the light flashed on. I threaded my way through the forest of legs and dashed to the abandoned neighborhood.
“Hi, Aspen.”
I turned around, dropping my squirrel. That wasn’t Cloudy Day’s voice, or Maple’s, or really any other voice that I’d been expecting to hear.
What is Firecracker doing here?
“Firecracker! I thought that you were going to live out of the city!”
“I came back,” Firecracker said, her eyes sparkling. “I missed you guys.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Maple slid out from the house where we lived. “She came back around an hour ago, Aspen. Where were you?”
I rolled my eyes. Bossy, know-it-all, sticks-her-nose-into-everything Maple. “I was at Central Park, hunting for this.” I prodded the squirrel with my white paw.
“And that took you an hour? You were watching humans, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” I growled. “You got a problem with that? Just because I know more than you about humans doesn’t mean that you have to-”
“Cool it, Aspen. Maple, shut up,” Cloudy Day commanded, coming up behind us. She turned to Firecracker. “They bounce off each other all the time. They’ll be best friends again in a minute.”
“Always have, always will,” Firecracker purred.
Already I felt my brief flash of temper fading. I looked over at Maple and saw her arguing face vanish and her normal face appear.
“I’m sorry, Maple. I overreacted,” I apologized.
“And I’m sorry for bringing up the subject when I knew that it would make you mad.”
That was probably the best apology I was going to get out of Maple. The dark brown cat hated apologies, whether she was giving them or receiving them. Neither of us was very emotional. That is, we were pretty emotional, but we kept our feelings bottled up tight, very tight, so that they only leaked every once and a while…
I grabbed my squirrel and headed toward my home. All I wanted was to eat my stupid squirrel, and then get to bed.
The broken-down building was rather small. It had only three rooms. Well, once it had had four, but a wall had crumbled to dust. My room was on the east side. I had filled it with human things from the streets and the dump. Torn-up blanket scraps, bottle caps, shiny beads, rubber bands, and some twisted pieces of glittering copper were piled up. Maple didn’t collect anything except scraps of blankets and cloth to make a nice bed. Her room was clean and proper- and boring and depressing, from my point of view. She didn’t even have a window in her room, for goodness sakes!
I devoured my squirrel in huge gulps, climbed onto my favorite cushion (I’d found it in the house when we came), curled up into a ball, and slept.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”
Maple was never an early riser. If she had her way, she’d sleep until noon. But what’s the point of wasting the day away by sleeping?
Maple yawned and lifted her head. “What is it, Aspen?”
“Another day,” I told her. “Get up and face it.” That was Cloudy’s saying.
She muttered something that I couldn’t hear and got to her paws, stumbling after me as I led the way into the third room.
The third room was a mess, but it was safe from people, so we didn’t mind. I pounced on a mouse that should have known better than to stray into a building that smelled like cats. I’d already eaten, so I offered my catch to Maple. She grabbed it and ate it so fast that if I’d blinked I wouldn’t have seen it.
I slipped out of my home and ran out of the neighborhood. It was a nice day. Only a few puffy white clouds littered the endless blue sky. This was one of the few days that you could see the sky, and I savored it.
“Oh, my, look at that cat. I’ve never seen a cat with such bright orange fur.”
I spun around and saw a tall woman leaning over me. Her face was inches from my nose. Ahhh!!!! You are popping my personal bubble! Go away!
I backed away, stopping when my hind paw touched the street. I could feel the wind as the cars whistled past. What part of ‘go away’ is too hard for you to understand, lady?
“You shouldn’t be on the streets, kitty,” she said. “You should be at Animal Control.”
Again with Animal Control! Ugh! I hissed at her and took off running. I wove my way through people’s legs and dashed across the busy street without waiting for the crosswalk light to go on. I almost got creamed by a car.
That was one of the many side effects of watching humans; they seemed compelled to catch you and stick you in Animal Control. Would they like it if cats went around capturing them and putting them in cages? No.
I made my way unnoticed to Central Park and clawed my way into a tree. My eyes surveyed the people passing by; a lady pushing a stroller with a crying baby inside, two kids whining to their parents about ice cream, a lady dancing to her iPod, a tall man talking on his cell phone.
I angled my ears toward the sound of something moving around in the bushes, hoping for a squirrel. A dog burst out, yapping, and a short man sitting on a bench gave chase. My whiskers twitched in amusement- the toy poodle was faster than the guy.
“Aspen? Aspen!”
I looked down. Maple was standing at the roots of the tree, yowling up at me. The dog rushed towards her, and she scrambled into the tree after me.
“What?” I growled.
“I wanted to see what you found so fascinating about humans. Now I see that you’re just crazy.” Maple’s whiskers twitched in amusement.
“I appreciate you voicing your thoughts. So, sister, what’s up?
Humans fascinate me. They’re so weird. I mean, why build a humongous city and cram so many people into it when there’s so much space out in the country? The only reason that I lived in the city was because of my sister Maple. She was a city cat. And, okay, I’ll admit it. I was a city cat, too.
My name’s Aspen, like the tree. An aspen tree. That was because my mother lived in a hollow underneath an aspen tree for a while. She was born there. My sister and I were born under a maple tree, so my sister, the firstborn, was named Maple.
My mother’s name was Mouse. Don’t laugh if you value your life. Her mother named her, and it was not her fault that she had such an embarrassing name. Shut up.
I lived in an old, broken-down building in an old, broken-down neighborhood. It was a nice place. Kind of. Lots of other cats lived in the neighborhood. The leader of us all was called Cloudy Day. She was light gray, and her eyes were a hard-but-see-through yellow. She was my best friend, besides Maple.
“Mommy, that pretty kitty just killed a squirrel!”
I peered down from the tree that I was perched on and hissed in disapproval. I’d thought that no one would be at this remote corner of Central Park this time of night, but there was a little girl, maybe five years old, staring up at me with wide eyes.
“Stay away from it, Maggie! It might have fleas!” the mother exclaimed, putting down the hand-held mirror she had been looking at.
Fleas. Yuck. I did not have any nasty fleas. My bright orange tail twitched. How dare this human say that I have fleas? Well, she could be saying a lot worse, but I hadn’t had fleas for almost two months now. Not a single one.
“I’ll call Animal Control,” the mother went on. “They’ll come and take care of it. Oh, my, think of the dangers of wild flea-ridden cats in Central Park. We might have the Black Death start again!”
Hey, Mrs. Paranoid, (a) you worry way too much and (b) I do not have fleas so please leave now because I’m trying to (c) enjoy my dinner.
Disgusted, I picked up my squirrel and leaped down from the tree. The Black Death? Get real. I bolted across Central Park and stopped at the road.
I’d learned by now that you had to wait for the crosswalk light to come on to avoid getting squashed by a car. On cue, the light flashed on. I threaded my way through the forest of legs and dashed to the abandoned neighborhood.
“Hi, Aspen.”
I turned around, dropping my squirrel. That wasn’t Cloudy Day’s voice, or Maple’s, or really any other voice that I’d been expecting to hear.
What is Firecracker doing here?
“Firecracker! I thought that you were going to live out of the city!”
“I came back,” Firecracker said, her eyes sparkling. “I missed you guys.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Maple slid out from the house where we lived. “She came back around an hour ago, Aspen. Where were you?”
I rolled my eyes. Bossy, know-it-all, sticks-her-nose-into-everything Maple. “I was at Central Park, hunting for this.” I prodded the squirrel with my white paw.
“And that took you an hour? You were watching humans, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” I growled. “You got a problem with that? Just because I know more than you about humans doesn’t mean that you have to-”
“Cool it, Aspen. Maple, shut up,” Cloudy Day commanded, coming up behind us. She turned to Firecracker. “They bounce off each other all the time. They’ll be best friends again in a minute.”
“Always have, always will,” Firecracker purred.
Already I felt my brief flash of temper fading. I looked over at Maple and saw her arguing face vanish and her normal face appear.
“I’m sorry, Maple. I overreacted,” I apologized.
“And I’m sorry for bringing up the subject when I knew that it would make you mad.”
That was probably the best apology I was going to get out of Maple. The dark brown cat hated apologies, whether she was giving them or receiving them. Neither of us was very emotional. That is, we were pretty emotional, but we kept our feelings bottled up tight, very tight, so that they only leaked every once and a while…
I grabbed my squirrel and headed toward my home. All I wanted was to eat my stupid squirrel, and then get to bed.
The broken-down building was rather small. It had only three rooms. Well, once it had had four, but a wall had crumbled to dust. My room was on the east side. I had filled it with human things from the streets and the dump. Torn-up blanket scraps, bottle caps, shiny beads, rubber bands, and some twisted pieces of glittering copper were piled up. Maple didn’t collect anything except scraps of blankets and cloth to make a nice bed. Her room was clean and proper- and boring and depressing, from my point of view. She didn’t even have a window in her room, for goodness sakes!
I devoured my squirrel in huge gulps, climbed onto my favorite cushion (I’d found it in the house when we came), curled up into a ball, and slept.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”
Maple was never an early riser. If she had her way, she’d sleep until noon. But what’s the point of wasting the day away by sleeping?
Maple yawned and lifted her head. “What is it, Aspen?”
“Another day,” I told her. “Get up and face it.” That was Cloudy’s saying.
She muttered something that I couldn’t hear and got to her paws, stumbling after me as I led the way into the third room.
The third room was a mess, but it was safe from people, so we didn’t mind. I pounced on a mouse that should have known better than to stray into a building that smelled like cats. I’d already eaten, so I offered my catch to Maple. She grabbed it and ate it so fast that if I’d blinked I wouldn’t have seen it.
I slipped out of my home and ran out of the neighborhood. It was a nice day. Only a few puffy white clouds littered the endless blue sky. This was one of the few days that you could see the sky, and I savored it.
“Oh, my, look at that cat. I’ve never seen a cat with such bright orange fur.”
I spun around and saw a tall woman leaning over me. Her face was inches from my nose. Ahhh!!!! You are popping my personal bubble! Go away!
I backed away, stopping when my hind paw touched the street. I could feel the wind as the cars whistled past. What part of ‘go away’ is too hard for you to understand, lady?
“You shouldn’t be on the streets, kitty,” she said. “You should be at Animal Control.”
Again with Animal Control! Ugh! I hissed at her and took off running. I wove my way through people’s legs and dashed across the busy street without waiting for the crosswalk light to go on. I almost got creamed by a car.
That was one of the many side effects of watching humans; they seemed compelled to catch you and stick you in Animal Control. Would they like it if cats went around capturing them and putting them in cages? No.
I made my way unnoticed to Central Park and clawed my way into a tree. My eyes surveyed the people passing by; a lady pushing a stroller with a crying baby inside, two kids whining to their parents about ice cream, a lady dancing to her iPod, a tall man talking on his cell phone.
I angled my ears toward the sound of something moving around in the bushes, hoping for a squirrel. A dog burst out, yapping, and a short man sitting on a bench gave chase. My whiskers twitched in amusement- the toy poodle was faster than the guy.
“Aspen? Aspen!”
I looked down. Maple was standing at the roots of the tree, yowling up at me. The dog rushed towards her, and she scrambled into the tree after me.
“What?” I growled.
“I wanted to see what you found so fascinating about humans. Now I see that you’re just crazy.” Maple’s whiskers twitched in amusement.
“I appreciate you voicing your thoughts. So, sister, what’s up?
New story. Deal with it.
Yes, I know that I've only finished two stories and that everything I write is crap and blah blah blah. I'm starting a new story, a new idea, so you can deal with it or you don't have to read it.
BTW, this is my 100th post. Enjoy the story, comment if you want, but if you're going to yell at me, go away.
Kayla
BTW, this is my 100th post. Enjoy the story, comment if you want, but if you're going to yell at me, go away.
Kayla
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
SARCASM.
i am a member of CSI; Canadian Sarcasm institute. i'll try to be nicer if you try to be smarter. i did not slap you, i simply high-fived your face. i thought he was my knight in shining armor... but he just turned out to be a loser in tin foil. suck it up, sunshine. sarcasm is just one more free service we offer. just because i don't care doesn't mean i don't get it. take my advice: i'm not using it. i speak sarcasm as a second language. my blood is rich in irony. a day without sunshine... it's like... it's like... NIGHT, you idiot. sarcasm- yeah, that'll work. it isn't half full- it's just a glass with water. i don't SUFFER from insanity- i enjoy ever minute of it! i'm fresh out of sympathy- can i interest you in a sarcastic coment? hold that thought- now take it somewhere else.believe me, i know how you feel; i just don't care. and your point is? oops, did my sarcasm hurt your feelings?
At one point today, all these things ran through my head.
What a day, huh?
At one point today, all these things ran through my head.
What a day, huh?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift
Sorry about my lack of posts. It's snowing right now... again... *sigh*
Here's the lyrics to the song You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.
You're on the phone with your girlfriend, She's upset
She's going off about something that you said
She doesnt get your humour like I do
I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesnt like
And she'll never know your story like I do
But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
You belong with me
Walkin the streets with you in your worn out jeans
I cant help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on the park bench thinkin to myself
Hey isnt this easy?
And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town
I havent seen it in awhile, since she brought you down
You say you find I know you better than that
Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
Standin by, waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that?
You belong with me
You belong with me
Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me.
Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
Standing by or waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that
You belong with me
You belong with me
Have you ever thought just maybe
You belong with me
You belong with me
Here's the lyrics to the song You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.
You're on the phone with your girlfriend, She's upset
She's going off about something that you said
She doesnt get your humour like I do
I'm in the room, its a typical Tuesday night
I'm listening to the kind of music she doesnt like
And she'll never know your story like I do
But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you're lookin for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
You belong with me
Walkin the streets with you in your worn out jeans
I cant help thinking this is how it ought to be
Laughing on the park bench thinkin to myself
Hey isnt this easy?
And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town
I havent seen it in awhile, since she brought you down
You say you find I know you better than that
Hey, Whatcha doing with a girl like that?
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you're looking for has been here the whole time
If you could see that I'm the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
Standin by, waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that?
You belong with me
You belong with me
Oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night
I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry
I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams
I think I know where you belong. I think I know it's with me.
Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you?
Been here all along so why can't you see?
You belong with me
Standing by or waiting at your back door
All this time how could you not know that
You belong with me
You belong with me
Have you ever thought just maybe
You belong with me
You belong with me
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Change: Chapter One
Sorry about my lack of posts. I've been... well, not busy. More like bored out of my mind. Pretty lame excuse for not posting, I know.
Anyways, I decided to start a new story... a ghost story. Told in the ghost's perspective. Just experimenting.
Anyways, I decided to start a new story... a ghost story. Told in the ghost's perspective. Just experimenting.
It's been twenty-three years since I was alive. It's been two years since anyone lived in this house. I'd like to say that old Mrs. Palmer's heart attack wasn't my fault, but, well, it kind of was. She was oblivious to the fact that a ghost lived in her house with her. That is, until she saw me at the top of the stairs.
Whoops.
I'm Melissa Anderson. I was killed- murdered- in this house. 125 Little Flower Road. Instead of crossing over, like spirits are supposed to, I stayed.
I've read my share of ghost stories over the years. Unfinished business, blah blah blah. Yeah right. Ghosts can cross over whenever they want. They just can't cross back. I hadn't had my fill of this world. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to leave the house- the house I'd lived in all my life and then after my life ended. As you can imagine, I grew sick of it.
125 Little Flower Road. Boring.
Nothing ever changes if you're a ghost, except for if you're the lucky few that get to have someone else "haunting" the house with you.
I mean, there's some change. Just not much. People walk by the window, people who glance at you, glance away, and then look back, thinking Did I just see what I thought I saw? I want to shout at all those non-believers, "Hey, you idiot, there are ghosts in this world." I want to smack them almost as much as I want to smack the authors who make ghosts seem like horrible things that need to be gotten rid of and the person who made the nightie and bedroom slippers that I have to wear until I cross over.
Ghosts can't hurt the living. I would know.
Before you ask, I'll tell you. Yes, they did find my murderer. Big deal. After twenty-three years, getting murdered isn't such a big deal any more.
So let's skip ahead, shall we, past all the boring details and, worse, facts about me. Let's skip past the brief time that my mother lived after my death. Let's skip past Mrs. Palmer's brief existence in this house.
So, we're now just a few years back. Okay, maybe eight more years isn't a few, but when you've been a ghost for twenty-three years, eight years is nothing. Eight boring years.
Not so boring any more.
Let me explain.
I glanced out the window. Where were they? They were supposed to be here half an hour ago!
A new family was moving into my house. I hoped that they would have kids, someone that I could let see me. Someone my age, twelve.
There it was! A silver car, like a Honda or Chevy, pulled into the driveway. The same man I'd seen check out the house a few weeks ago stepped out of the driver's seat and clapped his hands loudly, like he was trying to get someone's attention.
"Come on, Carrie," he said. "Don't you want to see the house?"
Carrie? Did he have a daughter?
A woman got out next, and my spirits fell. Just a man and a woman.
"Carrie," the woman said sharply. "I'm getting tired of your ridiculous pessimism. You're just going to have to get over the fact that we moved. You'll make new friends here, I'm sure."
Wait. So there was another person? The woman wasn't Carrie? I stretched forward eagerly.
A girl got out of the car.
She looked kind of like me- when I was alive, at least. White-blond hair, blue eyes that were a bit too large, pink lips that were a bit too small. Pale skin, rosy cheeks. The lips were frozen into a scowl, like mine used to be most of the time.
The similarities stopped there.
I was tall. Carrie was short but not stout. She looked kind of fragile. Her cheeks were a bit too round, and, as I inspected her closely, her nose looked way too tiny compared to her eyes. I'd been considered beautiful, though I'd thought differently. This girl was kind of plain.
But she was a girl! Someone else in the house!
"Come on out, Carrie," the girl who I thought was Carrie snapped.
Now I was confused.
The other door opened.
The girl was more like me in shape, but not color.
She was tall and slim, like me. Her hair was long enough to touch the middle of her back. Instead of being blond, it was inky black. Her eyes were blue, like the other girl's. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, even though it was November. Her face was cold and stiff. Her skin was a creamy tan.
"Home sweet home," she commented sourly.
"Oh, come on, Carrie," the other girl said.
"Don't talk to me, Ellie. I'm not thrilled to be here."
Two girls, living at 125 Little Flower Road.
Two girls who would change my life.
Forever.
And that's a long time.
Whoops.
I'm Melissa Anderson. I was killed- murdered- in this house. 125 Little Flower Road. Instead of crossing over, like spirits are supposed to, I stayed.
I've read my share of ghost stories over the years. Unfinished business, blah blah blah. Yeah right. Ghosts can cross over whenever they want. They just can't cross back. I hadn't had my fill of this world. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to leave the house- the house I'd lived in all my life and then after my life ended. As you can imagine, I grew sick of it.
125 Little Flower Road. Boring.
Nothing ever changes if you're a ghost, except for if you're the lucky few that get to have someone else "haunting" the house with you.
I mean, there's some change. Just not much. People walk by the window, people who glance at you, glance away, and then look back, thinking Did I just see what I thought I saw? I want to shout at all those non-believers, "Hey, you idiot, there are ghosts in this world." I want to smack them almost as much as I want to smack the authors who make ghosts seem like horrible things that need to be gotten rid of and the person who made the nightie and bedroom slippers that I have to wear until I cross over.
Ghosts can't hurt the living. I would know.
Before you ask, I'll tell you. Yes, they did find my murderer. Big deal. After twenty-three years, getting murdered isn't such a big deal any more.
So let's skip ahead, shall we, past all the boring details and, worse, facts about me. Let's skip past the brief time that my mother lived after my death. Let's skip past Mrs. Palmer's brief existence in this house.
So, we're now just a few years back. Okay, maybe eight more years isn't a few, but when you've been a ghost for twenty-three years, eight years is nothing. Eight boring years.
Not so boring any more.
Let me explain.
I glanced out the window. Where were they? They were supposed to be here half an hour ago!
A new family was moving into my house. I hoped that they would have kids, someone that I could let see me. Someone my age, twelve.
There it was! A silver car, like a Honda or Chevy, pulled into the driveway. The same man I'd seen check out the house a few weeks ago stepped out of the driver's seat and clapped his hands loudly, like he was trying to get someone's attention.
"Come on, Carrie," he said. "Don't you want to see the house?"
Carrie? Did he have a daughter?
A woman got out next, and my spirits fell. Just a man and a woman.
"Carrie," the woman said sharply. "I'm getting tired of your ridiculous pessimism. You're just going to have to get over the fact that we moved. You'll make new friends here, I'm sure."
Wait. So there was another person? The woman wasn't Carrie? I stretched forward eagerly.
A girl got out of the car.
She looked kind of like me- when I was alive, at least. White-blond hair, blue eyes that were a bit too large, pink lips that were a bit too small. Pale skin, rosy cheeks. The lips were frozen into a scowl, like mine used to be most of the time.
The similarities stopped there.
I was tall. Carrie was short but not stout. She looked kind of fragile. Her cheeks were a bit too round, and, as I inspected her closely, her nose looked way too tiny compared to her eyes. I'd been considered beautiful, though I'd thought differently. This girl was kind of plain.
But she was a girl! Someone else in the house!
"Come on out, Carrie," the girl who I thought was Carrie snapped.
Now I was confused.
The other door opened.
The girl was more like me in shape, but not color.
She was tall and slim, like me. Her hair was long enough to touch the middle of her back. Instead of being blond, it was inky black. Her eyes were blue, like the other girl's. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, even though it was November. Her face was cold and stiff. Her skin was a creamy tan.
"Home sweet home," she commented sourly.
"Oh, come on, Carrie," the other girl said.
"Don't talk to me, Ellie. I'm not thrilled to be here."
Two girls, living at 125 Little Flower Road.
Two girls who would change my life.
Forever.
And that's a long time.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
WAY too much snow- it's making me bored
So, we still have about a foot and a half of snow outside. *sigh* there's ice on top of it so you can't go outside and do anything except go sledding, but the ice isn't really that thick anymore. So... random bored posts. I was randomly browsing the internet and I saw a few really awesome icons & stuff, so I'm going to post some of it here. (btw, sorry about me having to write it all down, my computer's all screwy and won't let me post them)
When life gives you lemons, make grape juice. Then sit back and watch the world try to figure out how you did it.
Of course I'm talking to myself. Who else can I trust?
it's always the last place you look...
of course it is, why would I keep looking AFTER I found it???
Don't follow me, I'm lost too.
When life gives you lemons...
Shut up and eat the dang lemons!
I have a nagging suspicion that everyone is out to make me paranoid.
Why get high when there are other ways to achieve a smug sense of superiority?
SARCASM: my anti-drug
nothing is more discouraging than unappreciated SARCASM
When life gives you lemons, make grape juice. Then sit back and watch the world try to figure out how you did it.
Of course I'm talking to myself. Who else can I trust?
it's always the last place you look...
of course it is, why would I keep looking AFTER I found it???
Don't follow me, I'm lost too.
When life gives you lemons...
Shut up and eat the dang lemons!
I have a nagging suspicion that everyone is out to make me paranoid.
Why get high when there are other ways to achieve a smug sense of superiority?
SARCASM: my anti-drug
nothing is more discouraging than unappreciated SARCASM
Monday, January 4, 2010
TOP MOVIE: AVATAR
So, the TOP MOVIE I've EVER SEEN is definitely Avatar. If you don't want the ending spoiled, skip the next entry.
So you see, Earth's become completely uninhabitable (no surprise there). The humans go to a planet 17 light years away (with new technology) called Pandora. Pandora's a paradise- on the outside. It's really a bunch of weird jungles with killer death animals in it and 12-foot-tall blue humanoid natives with cat noses and tails. Cool.
There's a guy called Jake Sully who has a disease in his legs so he can't walk. His brother was a scientist who was going to Pandora and he died, so Jake Sully goes in his place. At Pandora, there's these "avatars," which are basically native-looking people infused with human DNA. jake sully enters the avatar of his brother. the avatars are sent out to try to talk the natives (I think they're called the Na'vi) out of living in this place called the Home Tree. It's a HUGE tree. picture the biggest tree you've ever seen and then imagine a tree 300 times bigger. the tree is on top of a huge deposit of some kind of mineral worth more thand five times as gold. a lot of $$$. the avatars, or dreamwalkers, have to talk the Na'vi out of their home. tough luck! jake sully gets seperated from the rets of him group in the jungle and a Na'vi girl almost shoots and arrow through his head. but then this floating jellyfish things land on him and tht says that he has some kind of strong heart. so she takes him back to the Home Tree and the leader (her father) says that she has to teach him the ways of the Na'vi. she's not very thrilled and keeps called him a moron. Do I sense a RELATIONSHIP here? *gasp* anyways, the blue-skinned guys have this type of nerve thingy on the end of their hair. they connect that to any animal's similar nerve and then their brains are connected, as in they can communicate with each other. one thing that all hunters have to pass, including Jake Sully, is that they have to tame and ride a dragon-like bird with awesome colors and dragonfly-ish wings. jake sully asks to Na'vi girl, "how will I know if he chooses me?" (talking about the bird here) and the girl says "He'll try to kill you." lovely! anyways, he becomes one of the People. meanwhile, the humans are itching to get the minerals under Home Tree.
Actually, I think that I won't write the ending. you have to watch the movie!!!
So you see, Earth's become completely uninhabitable (no surprise there). The humans go to a planet 17 light years away (with new technology) called Pandora. Pandora's a paradise- on the outside. It's really a bunch of weird jungles with killer death animals in it and 12-foot-tall blue humanoid natives with cat noses and tails. Cool.
There's a guy called Jake Sully who has a disease in his legs so he can't walk. His brother was a scientist who was going to Pandora and he died, so Jake Sully goes in his place. At Pandora, there's these "avatars," which are basically native-looking people infused with human DNA. jake sully enters the avatar of his brother. the avatars are sent out to try to talk the natives (I think they're called the Na'vi) out of living in this place called the Home Tree. It's a HUGE tree. picture the biggest tree you've ever seen and then imagine a tree 300 times bigger. the tree is on top of a huge deposit of some kind of mineral worth more thand five times as gold. a lot of $$$. the avatars, or dreamwalkers, have to talk the Na'vi out of their home. tough luck! jake sully gets seperated from the rets of him group in the jungle and a Na'vi girl almost shoots and arrow through his head. but then this floating jellyfish things land on him and tht says that he has some kind of strong heart. so she takes him back to the Home Tree and the leader (her father) says that she has to teach him the ways of the Na'vi. she's not very thrilled and keeps called him a moron. Do I sense a RELATIONSHIP here? *gasp* anyways, the blue-skinned guys have this type of nerve thingy on the end of their hair. they connect that to any animal's similar nerve and then their brains are connected, as in they can communicate with each other. one thing that all hunters have to pass, including Jake Sully, is that they have to tame and ride a dragon-like bird with awesome colors and dragonfly-ish wings. jake sully asks to Na'vi girl, "how will I know if he chooses me?" (talking about the bird here) and the girl says "He'll try to kill you." lovely! anyways, he becomes one of the People. meanwhile, the humans are itching to get the minerals under Home Tree.
Actually, I think that I won't write the ending. you have to watch the movie!!!
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