Little Sid 

“I didn’t know!” I say, clearly being given a much higher punishment than I deserve. I had no idea that lamp was there! Sure, I hit it. Sure, it was super expensive. That doesn’t mean it was my fault! I didn’t see it! Gosh, life is soooooo unfair sometimes. 

“Go to your room, Sid,” Mother says,”I don’t have all day to deal with this. I’m sorry if you feel it’s not your fault, but it most certainly is. Lamps don’t just fall on their own.”

“What’s Sid going on about now?”

Ugh. My older sister, Udia. ‘Pronounced ue-dee-a!’ She can be soooooo annoying! She’s always getting in trouble, but just squirms her way out of it! If SHE had knocked down the lamp, none of this would be happening. Apparently I’m ‘only ten so you don’t get me OR the world yet, genius’ So frustrating! 

-OnlyMe wishing a bright day. 

Trying out a new storyline and point of view. Tell me if it’s going well? Any criticisms? I’ll continue with it if it gets good rep. Till next time!

Posted in The Daily Post, Writing

Daily Post-Avid (old post but..)

I believe that there are a lot of different interpretations that you can have of the single word, “Avid.” When I hear or think of the word, “Avid,” I think of a vibrant picture or a smiling face. You know, the type of smile that just lights up everyone’s world because they can’t believe anybody could be so happy in a world like our own. I think of a bright spring morning where the sun is out, the sky is the perfect blue, and the grass is a brilliant green.

The actual definition of the word, “avid,” is; having or showing a keen interest in or enthusiasm for something. 

So I guess I’m very enthusiastic about pictures, nature, and happiness. That’s really quite true. I believe that I am most enthusiastic/interested in those things compared to many others. I am interested in quite a lot of things, though, and I am a very enthusiastic person. So, since I feel like I’m taking a bit, and since this is my first time submitting one of these, I’ll stop talking right around there.

-OnlyMe wishing a good day to all

Hahahahahha, sorry. I wrote this forever ago and I just felt like sharing. 

Thanks for reading. 

Awkwardness…

So… I’m back! 

Sorry about that, by the way… I was busy and..sometimes it’s just so weird to come back here to write. I just needed some time off. You know how hard it is to write a poem a day? 

Anyways, I’m back again. I’ll always come back to this. Writing.

It’s my life, my soul. I was born to write. I know it, I live it, I love it. 

So let’s get down to business. 

I am going to be writing whatever I want, whenever I want. Suggestions will be taken though, of course. 

I’m open to new things and new possibilities. I don’t want to stick to the same schedules with this. My life is too familiar, I could use some spontaneity. 

Thank you and thank you again.

I’m hoping my blog doesn’t go down into the basement but works itself to the middle shelf where I’m hoping it’ll belong. 

I may be young, and I may be crazy, but I want this to work out. 

So thanks for reading. 

And see ya next time. (hopefully)

-OnlyMe wishing happy days. 

Love, Life, Happiness (Part One)

Love Life and Happiness. 

The three things that we need to live right, I guess? 

Here’s a small story about someone who’s struggling with all three.

My name is Aldine Walker.

I’ve been on my own ever since I was nine. It’s okay, though, cause I was a strong child. At least that’s what I like to think. 

The story of me is pretty sad and I don’t tell it too often because I feel like all I’m asking for is a pity fest. I don’t like pity fests. They’re overrated and we’re just created to make lucky people feel better about themselves. 

Let me tell you my story. No judgements, no jokes, no sadness, no tears. No pity. 

Ready? 

I was born in New Jersey. My mother’s name was Cheryl. She died during childbirth. Cliche, I know. The thing about it that isn’t cliche is that it wasn’t me who killed her. My father insisted that she shouldn’t go to a hospital for the birth. First bad idea. Now, during the pregnancy, my mom was a little cranky. That’s to be expected though, right? My father didn’t think so. He would get so annoyed at her and the unbirthed me that he would punch both of us. He almost made her miscarriage twice. I was born though. That was when he was worst to her. During the labor he claimed that she shouldn’t be complaining as much as she was. He ended up beating her to death while I was being born. Me staying alive was her last wish. 

I intend to make that wish last as long as possible. 

That’s not the end. My sister, Rosalie, died at age seven. She was born from my father’s other girlfriend. I was six when Rosalie died. She had committed suicide when she was seven years old. My father was that bad. Moving on, my brother Tony lasted till he was eight. He died two months after Rosalie. It was my birthday when it happened. I was turning seven and Tony wanted to wish me happy birthday. That was a big mistake. My father claimed I was the death child. He seemed to want to prove this because he killed Tony too. This time he used a gun. There were two shots, and I witnessed both. 

After that, I was the only child left. Both of my father’s girlfriends were dead. Rosalie and Tony were dead. I wanted Sear, my father, to be dead too. 

He wouldn’t die, though. Instead he kept me locked in my room until dinner. Then he let me make dinner for both of us at eight years old. I can’t tell you how many times I was either burned or bruised from dinner. 

It was never as bad as after dinner though. Then I was stuck in the dark. Usually the room was dead cold. There wasn’t any furniture or blankets. Just a door with a lock. I must’ve smelled absolutely putrid. 

A few months after I turned nine, my father ended up getting shot in the head by a gang. 

I was finally free. 

I was on the streets for about a year. Always on the move. Always scrounging for money. It was my life. 

At age ten and a half, I found a friend, Lily, and she introduced me to her messed up family. It wasn’t nearly as messed up as my dead one, but I never mentioned my past. She had no father but she did have a mom. She had a little sister as well and she had to watch her every day after school. 

Her family took me in. They gave me food and a home in return for watching Lily’s little sister so that Lily could go to school. I was finally happy for a bit. 

That didn’t last very long. I was there until my eleventh birthday. I made the mistake of asking for a birthday cake. After a hit and a scold, I went back to watching the sister. I had felt too free. I thought Lily’s mother was forgiving. 

She was not.

I borrowed two dollars to buy a candy bar from a gas station store. That was when I got kicked out. 

I was back to when I was nine. On the streets just trying to stay alive. I’ll never forget the year I was eleven. 

I tried to do the same thing I had before. Beg for money, move through different gangs, stay on the good side of persons. Ask for random jobs from shady persons. The usual. 

That year I had to resort to stealing, though. I only stole from kids. The ones I knew I could take. 

I never really hurt anyone else. I just asked for food or money very threatingly. After that, I’d get it and that would be that. 

One guy I tried to steal from didn’t give me the money though. He said he trusted me not to hurt him. He said he had faith in me. 

Nobody had ever said that before. I was only eleven but I believed I had already met my soulmate. We live on the streets, talked, stole, worked, ate and traded together. We were the, “mighty pair.”

That all ended when we decided to join one gang that didn’t like newcomers. 

He was shot in the stomach when he tried to protect me from them. I tried to get the police or anyone who would listen to help. But that was the problem. 

Nobody would listen. 

That day I turned myself in to the police and ended up in foster care.

Boy, that didn’t go too well either.

-OnlyMe wishing a good day to all…

To A Lost Lover…

look. look at the shadows that cross the yellow streamed valley. look at them sparkle and dance, hiding from the sun. do you see it? no. of course you dont. youre not here, and i dont know if you ever will be.

but what is the real meaning of the word “here”? does it mean that youre right where you are, or does it mean that youre where i am? i have no idea where youll be when you read this. i just know youll be in your version of “here”. your now. your present. thats the exciting thing about writing letters. i know that soon someone will read the words i wrote as a delayed message. sure, this is a broken down type writer and i think im almost out of ink, but it feels somewhat special. dont you think?

i think i know the answer to that one too. no. you dont think its special. you dont think that anything in life has another purpose besides the one it was made to have. well i dont beleive that, and i never will. gosh im off topic. you dont even know why i wrote this letter to you in the first place.
do you really want to know?

i wanted to tell you about what im planning to do next week, and in the following months to come. i wanted to know if you even care.

i will be leaving bridger, pennsylvania for paris, france. you know how ive always wanted to go to france. especially paris. i got a job offer. a good one. it pays more than my current job and id get to live in the place of my dreams! i would never really feel complete though, without you. i know its been three weeks, but thats not long at all in the scheme of things, and if you got this far in my letter you show promising content.

what im saying is im going to be cliche. not the first time, i know, but thats just how i like it. cheesy, cliche, predictable. again, im getting off topic. i want you to not let me go. i want you to want me. i want everything to go back to the way it was when we were in love and happy and perfect. i know it will never be the same as before, but i need it to be you amd me again.

meet me at the entrance to the greenbay airport at 10 o clock, june 10. come knowing that you want to be with me, and knowing you are ready for a commitment. i wont waste my dreams on just anything…or just anybody. im counting on you. if you dont come by 11 o clock then ill know you have made a different decision. i hope you dont, but its okay if you do. i can handle myself. i wont be waiting a second longer than i said earlier and i can just hope that you get this letter in time. i wont go to paris if you show, i can promise you that much. ill never leave you again, as long as you can promise the same thing to me.

so whats the verdict? do you care?

i love you. utterly and completely.

-Alanna.
.
.
-OnlyMe wishing a good day to all…

P.S. I can’t describe to you exactly how this story ends, but I can tell you one thing; it made me tear up quite a few times, and I wrote it.
Hope you enjoyed the beginning of this forgotten love tale.

Beginning of Short Story

Not much, but I’m looking at starting this and wondering how much time and effort I should put into broadening it, making it bigger, and adding details. 

*   *  *

“Not everything is about you.” Saen says, anger lighting his eyes up like a firecracker.

“I never said it was about me, okay?” I say with as much control as possible,”What I meant was that going into battle isn’t your best option right now.”

“Look, I need to do this. She was-is my friend, my best friend. I need to help her.” I see the desperation in his eyes, and fight back a tear as I tell him what he needs to hear.

“Saen, I’m so sorry, but…Celia is dead. This mission isn’t to get her back, it’s to get her brother. I know that it’s not what you want to hear, but-”

“Opalia.” He cuts me off,”You don’t understand. She could still be alive. She has the healing ability, she could’ve found a way.” Everybody in the Natural community has a different power, ability. Celia’s was the ability to heal anyone but herself. Saen’s is the power to teleport from anywhere to anywhere else. Mine is the power over time, considered the most powerful one yet. 

“Saen, you know that she couldn’t use her healing ability on herself. Even if she could, she was too weak. She never would have made it out of the fire in time.” Celia was a good friend to me, but she was always closer to Saen. They knew each other the longest. Everyone in the Natural community always thought they were more than friends, and they probably would have been…if Saen wasn’t in love with me. He’s been fighting his feelings for a while, but just a little over a week ago he admitted it to me. I wish he didn’t. There’s a small part of me that knows I love him too, but not enough to put him first before my duty to Natural. My responsibility comes first, in all situations. The Natural community has been around for centuries upon centuries, and exists all around the universe. We span across galaxies, millions of Naturals hidden among other species, determined to keep Nature on all planets safe and controlled. Without us, there would not be life. The real world is too harsh and unkind. Too merciless.

“I don’t want to believe that,” Saen says, voice full of sorrow. I do the only thing that I know will make him feel better, and stop him from carrying out his plans to go on the mission to Celia’s old, now burning house. I kiss him. It’s a slow kiss, a faint one, our lips barely open, but it’s enough for me to gasp out how right it feels. Enough for him to smile when we’re done. Somehow, he’s still capable of smiling after coming back from Celia’s house about an hour ago. We both saw a Groupling set a torch to Celia’s home. We had been in her driveway, ready to attend game night like every Friday at the Weller house. This Friday was so very different. Celia made us take her mother, father and brother out first, but on our way out with her brother, the same groupling that had set the house on fire took Celia’s only brother, Jacob Weller. He’s only seven years old, only just showing signs of a concealing ability. 

We got distracted, and were not able to get Celia out in time. She had only just been healing her mother up from another mission that morning, so I knew she was too weak to even try to heal herself, if she could even find a way. The healing ability is very limited because it takes power from your own body. It took all of my heart to leave. Even now I feel like I abandoned her, but we had to leave then or else the groupling would come back with friends and take me and Saen as well. Saen just stands across from me now. We’re in the Natural center, a disguised place for Natural’s to obtain their missions, and for the orphan Natural’s to live. I’m an orphan, so I live here. We’re standing in the main corridor, and he’s half smiling with his eyebrows raised.

“I thought you didn’t have time for distractions. That you needed to stay focused on your level one missions,” Saen says with just a pinch of humor in his voice. I get level one missions, the most important ones to which are usually reserved for masters and experienced adults, because my ability level is so high. One of the highest ones in the galaxy. 

“I do, but one kiss can’t hurt anybody, right?” I try to add a light tone too, but Saen sees through all of my walls.

“Opal, I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

“I’ll get Jacob safely back from the grouplings, okay? It will all be alright.” I say it to not only calm Saen down, but also to calm myself.

“It won’t ever be the same without Celia.” I know he’s right. It won’t ever be the same, but at least we have the Natural training to get over losses quickly. One of the only things we get in return of serving the universe. Well, that and a home since I’d probably still be in foster care without them. And I wouldn’t ever have met Saen. 

“I will see you when I return.” I say, slowly backing out of the main corridor into the weapons room.

“I’ll be the one peeking through your room!” He calls as I walk away.

“It’s locked!” I yell back over my shoulder, but I know he wouldn’t try to get in there anyways. 

-OnlyMe wishing a good day to all !

The Interview

So I’ve heard that a brilliant idea for writing is an interview. One of the #everydaychallenge (s) is to interview someone as a blog post. I’ve also gotten personal comments to blog about an interview. To write about one, and/or list one. I asked different groups of people if I could interview them, and three agreed. 

Here are my questions and answers:

Start off easy…

What’s your favorite color?

L: Purple.

A: Blue.

What are your three favorite things to do?

L: Swim, play tennis, and sit on my butt all day.

A: Doing art and crafts, watching TV, and travel(ing). 

What’s your favorite book?

L: Dork Diaries.

A: I’d say The Selection Series.

Now, to dig deeper…

What is your everyday inspiration?

L: Instagram.

A: Seeing other lives and knowing I can and will have a good future.

What is the main focus of your dreams?

L: Make Fashion!

A: Living a good life with things like career and family. Having a good job and a nice family.

How do you plan to use your writing as a long distance role?

L: I’m not sure how I’ll incorporate it…

A: By expressing my feelings and stuff…Using my writing to express my feelings. 

What do you think is the most important thing to you?

L: I don’t mean to sound shallow, but my electronics. Or you could say ‘electrics’.

A: The most important thing to me is just my family. My family means a lot to me, [and] I put them first.

I think I could make the interview a little more interesting and developing. Any ideas? I’ll be creating another interview next week as a follow up.

-OnlyMe wishing a good day to all