| For Love. |
[04 Oct 2007|03:40pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 accomplished |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Miss Saigon |
] |
A bit of a poem I wrote today in Science while thinking of Alex. Yeah, I'm TOTALLY always on task in school. *rolls eyes* (also, wait a bit and you MIGHT see the beginning to a story I wrote. :D)
O, for love!
What would ye not do?
To sing and whis-
per "I love you!"
For the bliss and joy
O, that love brings
And to be done
With childish flings!
Ye dance in and out
Of the sun's rays
In happiness you'll spend
The rest of thy days!
Fear not the night
For thou wilt dream
Of all the things
That love can bring!
Think of thy love
And never forget
Life's hardships were worth it
For the day ye met!
Cherish their touch
From Heaven above
O, what would one not do
For love!
|
|
| omg wut |
[27 Aug 2007|04:27am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 bored |
] |
No. I am not dead (yet.) I have written something. Going without updates for five fucking weeks FTW.
She was drawn to it, that full moon. Its 4AM light attracted her as she crept down the stairs, knowing that her mother was safely asleep – she could stay that way, it didn't matter much to her.
As her feet reached the landing she stretched, yawning. She drew open the curtains, and the pale light fell onto her face – the face of Lauren Young, her surname ringing true; she was a mere sixteen, but knowing grief beyond her years. She knelt down and reached under the couch for a hidden, thin briefcase. Twirling the key in her fingers, she sighed, unlocking and opening it, extracting the letters. Letters that held memory. Letters that held love, loss, regret, and yearning. Thumbing through them, she selected a worn-out one – clearly she had held it close often.
My beloved.
How I miss your touch. It has been a week, and surely, that is too long. To look into your green eyes and lose myself in them...how I yearn to do so again. To stroke your hair, red and fiery, ablaze with passion...I sorely want to see you again. I wish to take you home with me. For your escape from your mother. Surely, you wish the same? I love you, dearest. Do you not love me? If you do, the path is clear – you must write me back so we can arrange a time and place. Leave not a message for your mother; she does not deserve to hear from you again. Send your answer soon. I await you.
With greatest love,
Brian.
With a laugh and a shake of her head, she got up from the couch that she had sunk into while reading, and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring wine into it. Her mother wouldn't notice, she'd done it plenty of times before. Sipping from it, she walked back into her living room, setting the glass onto the table, and grabbing another letter. This one had many spots on it from tears. Tears of a misguided youth.
Lauren:
You deserved it.
I didn't want to hear your pleas then, and I don't wish to hear your begging now. You didn't want me then – why should now be any different? You shouldn't have whined about it. You were annoying, ugly at that too – good only for a quick get-me-off. Be glad you had it, it's the best you'll be able to get with your plain face and flat chest. I pitied you. That is long gone. If you didn't wish to serve me, your crying now is useless. I don't want to hear your bullshit, and I don't care. You should have remained my slave. Now you'll pay the price.
-Brian.
She picked up her glass after this, taking another sip and downing the rest, licking her lips for the last few drops of the blood-red liquid. Chuckling to herself, she recalled the events. He had brought her over to live with him. For a month, he degraded her slowly, robbing her of her very humanity. She didn't realise it at the time, so foolish are the lovesick. Ignorance is magnified as a child, and she went so long in it. Eventually he went as far as to declare he owned her, and still she went along with it. Slave, toy, pet; these were her new names. He lusted for her, she knew – the rape was evidence. She confronted him about it, yes – but it brought her only back home. He was sick of her, he said. She wrote him back, begging him to take her in again, to forgive her. So strong was her blind affection for him that she believed it was her fault, if only to have him back. And then his reply came. A strong blow to a weak and broken one. She sobbed for days over it. It was sick to reflect upon. But so be it; children believe in love but know so little, so very little. And even if they hear the stories of the abuse, they believe it not to be happening to them. They regard themselves so high that they won't hear a word of it.
Lauren was a child, yes. All this a mere year ago, when she was fifteen – and Brian twenty-two. As she thought about it now she was disgusted in herself. But she knew her young, impaired reasoning. "Love," she thought. Always the love. She had grown some, yes. But never can one fully shake that off. It had been a year since they had talked, and still there was something left over from her child's heart; affection for Brian. She could never shake it off.
Lauren stood and looked out the window upon the calm early morning quiet. She crept to the door, opening it. With a breath of fresh air, she stepped outside to think things over again and again, in vain search of a conclusion that she knew would never come.
Still, she would try.
|
|
| hp ficz lawl |
[18 Jul 2007|04:12am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
bored |
] |
So there's WAY too much shittyness in the fanfic area.
So what do I do?
ADD MY OWN SHITYNESS.
I just signed up on fanfiction.net (I can't remember my old account XD), but it's locked till 6:18am my time (wtf.) Either way, I've written something. I'm still in the middle of it, and this first chapter seems REALLY EMO-Y and has no HP in it at all...but eh. It'll get better as the story moves on.
She kicked the wall.
Again and again, taking out her anger on that stupid, cracked, greyish-white wall. The girl's long, black, silky hair ran over her deep green eyes and extremely pale, unhappy face. But still she continued her relentless attack on the wall, adding to its dents.
"Stupid...bitch...hate her...so much...want to kill her...christ...leave me alone for once...stupid mum..."
With every kick she added a word or two to the stream of insults. She heard the snores from the next room, knowing that her mother was asleep. A small crash and clinking was added to the noise as the woman dropped the beer bottle she had been holding before she laid down, and that she had been drinking as she yelled at the girl earlier, speech slurred, but the meaning clear as ever. Negativity poured from her mouth like the drool that accompanied it. Slurred "I hate you"s, and the words "take care of yourself...I wouldn't care if you died..." were a common contender in the competition to see what could break the girl first. The words had joined force and won the battle ages ago, but still they lashed out at the girl, their power undiminished.
The girl finally ended her sparring match with the wall, panting and sinking onto her bed. She drew her knees up to her chest and put her arms around them. Amber Elazer had never been one to bother attempting to make herself feel better; she reasoned that enough damage had been done that there was no point. With an alcoholic mother, constant teasing, and being friendless for all her life, she never had anyone to turn to. It wasn't as if by suddenly forcing herself to feel happy, she would gain friends...would she? Besides, she hadn't ever really wanted friends. She figured that they would all turn on her in the end -- that was how it always went for those that she thought were her "friends." Sometimes when she was younger she would dream of someone coming to take her from this mess, but she knew it would never happen. She had given up hope long ago.
She glanced over at the clock. Its angry red numbers told her that it was 3:30AM. A common time for her to be awake -- the hour of despair. She gave a little sigh then looked up at the ceiling, just as grey and dreary as the rest of her environment. As her gaze was lost in the nothingness of what lay overhead, her mind began to wander. Soon it fell on the subject of school. She would return to the trap in just two weeks. She was eleven, turning twelve in December. However, she didn't care much for celebrating her birthday anymore. She barely remembered it. That fact struck her a little hard, even though she knew she hadn't expressed interest in her birthday in years. Amber shrugged off the feeling, turning her empty green eyes to the floor. I should just get
to sleep... she thought.
The creaking of the door to her shabby apartment opening deterred her from this idea.
|
|
| whee |
[17 Jul 2007|04:17am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 sleepy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
TMBG! |
] |
DISCLAIMER: It is (at the time of this writing) 3:14AM. I am miraculously functioning, but I am rather tired. This will be of poor quality, containing multiple spelling errors and grammar mistakes. It is not my fault. Blame the fact that I can never seem to get to sleep at a rational time.
(post-note: Okay, Firefox has a spellchecker. however, I doubt this will be of use. because...well...eye no i cane tip, my spill cheque err didn't sea Annie then rung!)
NOTE: In addition to all of this, this is off-topic. This is not a writing-related post. If that is what you were looking for, search elsewhere for now, and come back here later. I feel the urge to be off-topic, and so I will be.
FINAL NOTE: I am posting this here mainly because I needed to get my voice out on this subject, but I knew that if I posted it on any forums I would be flamed to death. I don't feel like taking on the form of a smoldering pile of ashes, so I decided to post it where no one would read it. Namely...right here. So, if you disagree EXTREMELY STRONGLY, go ahead and comment. I don't really care, it'd be entertaining to see some more life on this old thing (that went without updates for nearly two months recently, so.)
All right, you may be wondering what's so controversial that I feel the urge to express my opinion on it but in a mainly deserted place...I'll tell you:
Windows Vista.
Those of you that think technical shit is boring, feel free to leave for this post. I should eventually return to my writing wrants. However, my posts may always have some technical flavour...so how have I attracted you?
Anyway, I'm a little tired of dissing of this operating system by those who have never used it but have learned (pretty much rightfully so) from past Windows versions that Microsoft is not to be trusted in any circumstances. I can understand this position. But still, tinker with it a little -- you may be slightly surprised.
I'll tackle one of the biggest points of the naysayers right now: User Account Control.
Again, I can understand your feelings on this. It is a tad bit nagging, yes, and it seems to assume that you are a child who happens to not know what you are doing...however, it can prove useful. I have only seen it set off when you are making system-wide changes, such as installing software, etc, or using software that may prove dangerous in the case that it was not you who authorised the use of this software, and that it was indeed a malicious program. Malware will do anything it takes to take control of your system, and this often requires that changes be made in your registry, and making changes that affect the entire system, sometimes using powerful administrative software programs bundled with Windows. As the use of malicious software to increase revenue has gone up, so our efforts against it in order to keep the Internet safe for more than just technical users, but those that are indeed computer-illiterate, often including children. (just a note, please don't accuse me of prejudice based on age. If you had an idea of whom you were being accusatory towards, you would recoil quite embarrassed, and likely not show your face for a few days at least.) The rate at which malware grows is extreme, requiring stupendous effort on our part to ensure safety. This may indeed require slightly drastic measures (in the view of some), as if they were not in place, malicious programs could exploit this for the twisted purposes of those who write it, and making the Internet a more dangerous place. User Account Control allows the operating system to ensure that it is indeed the wish of the administrator of the computer that a program is to be run, or a change is to be made. User Account Control prompts, when showing on a limited user account (which is a definite MUST for non-technical users, and a "really ought to" for most technical users, who should definitely feel guilty when doing normal everyday tasks on an administrator account), show a dialog saying that Windows needs an administrator's permission to continue, and presents a selection of administrator users and a form in which you must type the password for that account if you wish to continue. On administrator accounts, it is slightly different -- the dialog simply says that "Windows needs your permission to continue" and states that "if you started this action, continue," and presents no administrator user form, simply a continue and cancel button, as the user is already logged into an administrator account. Please note that in both cases, the dialog is shown on top of every other window, and in a "secure desktop" mode, where all other parts of the screen are temporarily grayed out until the users chooses to continue or cancel.
I needed a paragraph break.
So, in summary, User Account Control, in spite of its nag-filled nature, may indeed prove useful for stopping unauthorised changes to one's computer. And you aren't permanently stuck with it either -- you can easily disable it. However, I must say I discourage this, as you will no longer be asked for confirmation when possibly malicious changes are being made to one's system, and therefore malicious software can easily infiltrate your system without your knowledge -- at least until it is too late.
As to those who show skepticism regarding the aero glass theme, I must say I do enjoy it. I do frown at Microsoft for the (kind of obvious) similarities to OS X, but when has Microsoft been known for being innovative? I don't like the whole "well they did it already so let's go with that, it looks popular" approach, as OS X did it merely in order to be ahead of the competition, and ends up putting Microsoft in the spotlight for declaring what is "modern," but I cannot change what has been done, and I couldn't have stopped them from doing it in the first place.
And now for hardware requirements (glee!)
I don't know the official system requirements for Windows Vista, but my laptop here runs Windows Vista Home Premium very smoothly. However, glossing over the Problem History (Control Panel\System and Maintenance, Problem Reports and Solutions, Check Problem History for all of you fellow Vista-people who wish to know of their system's woes but aren't sure of how to check it), I do note that there have been a sickly number of problems (9) in the time I have had this laptop, which has been since June 30st, but I really only started using it on June 31st. Most of the things are not severe, though. Two situations in which I was attempting to use some hardware (a USB modem and my sister's cell phone) in which Windows could not find drivers, of course, which does not worry me in the least...Two situations in which Firefox "stopped working" and one in which it just stopped responding and was closed, again, not worrying, I'm more of an Opera person anyway. One situations in which "HP Connections" stopped working, which is dated back to the morning of the 30th, three hours before I received my laptop, so that must have been when the people at Best Buy (yuck!) were installing software and such on it, so I have no idea about the context of the incident. Another situation in which a program stopped working, this time Project 64, doesn't worry me.
HOWEVER.
Now, there are two other incidents here, the only ones under "Windows." TWICE there were "Video Hardware Errors." This means that TWICE a driver for my video card stopped responding and Windows had to go and recover it. I remember these incidents -- the screen went totally black for a few seconds. I don't think this is necessarily a Windows problem, and it may be hardware error or driver fuckystuff, but I still feel that it merited mention.
Now, when we get to specific hardware mudslinging...I think we should take into account our "Windows Experience Index Base Score." This is a number determined by scoring the system's processor, RAM, graphics card, and hard drive in five tests. The scores are on a scale of 1.0 to 5.9. Vista then takes the lowest of these subscores and makes it representative of the entire computer's score and performance. Let's look at these:
Processor:
Windows rates the calculations per second here. My processor got a 4.6 out of 5.9 here. It is a 1.6 GHz AMD Turion 64 x2 processor. All right score, definitely a fine processor for my needs.
Memory (RAM):
Here Windows takes into account the memory operations per second. I have 1GB of DDR2 SDRAM, I believe, and in this department I scored 4.5 out of 5.9. I believe that the maximum RAM subscore for computers with less than 1.5GB of RAM is a 4.5, so, very nice. Good score, and again, very nice performance with this RAM, definitely kicks ass over my desktop (TWO HUNDRED FIFTY-SIX MEGS OF RAM!). Four times as much RAM as my desktop. And I get along well with my desktop, usually. Imagine my delight with this thing.
Graphics:
Here I didn't do as hot. Windows looks at desktop performance for Windows Aero right here. I have an NVIDIA GeForce Go 6250(?) with up to 288mb of graphics memory card. It got a 3.0 out of 5.9. That is the minimum score at which a computer will be shipped with Aero enabled by default, I believe. Aero performs well on this thing, but as I noted above, there have been a couple of problems with this card. I still love it to death, but it's not as good as I'd wish. Also, the colour just isn't as great as it is on my desktop. I was looking at a screenshot I took on this thing on my desktop and over on the desktop the colour was just absolutely astonishing, the wallpaper made even more beautiful (a majestic dragon is standing with its wings outspread, looking over a cliff. The late afternoon sky with the sun slowly sinking shines on the dragon's purple scales, and turns them white. The sky surrounding the dragon is purple as well, blending well with its colour, and all-in-all the image seems to portray majestic power in its finest form. ...this is a writing blog, remember that. I am entitled to my descriptions.). Over here on the laptop, it's still breathtaking, but the colour is not NEARLY as vibrant as my desktop shows it to be. *sigh* Anyway, this thing is running at a resolution of 1280x800, working smoothly.
Gaming graphics:
Windows rates your potential for 3d business and gaming performance here. Another 3.0, of course same video card, everything the same, decent score for my needs (I rarely game, even rarer use business applications that use a 3D view of anything).
Primary Hard Disk:
Here is where I seemed to shine. Windows rates disk data transfer rate here. I got a 4.7 out of 5.9 here with a 120GB HD (sorry, I really can't recall any details about my hard drive right now, it's 4:14 (wow, I've been working on this post an hour), so i can't be any more specific!) This amount of storage is TWICE AS MUCH AS MY DESKTOP (which holds...60gb duh), and I managed to fit it all on my desktop (tight squeeze with my 33 gigs of music), so I can spread out now on this. ^_^
I'm gonna come back to this post in the morning, it is REALLY late right now, so I apologise for briefness and my rushing towards the end. I hope to make it up to you when I wake up, though I believe I'm scheduled to hang out with Taylor tomorrow, so, might take a while.
GOOD NIGHT.
(p.s.: WOW. I just used LJ's spell-checker and only found ONE error! (I had typed "of DDR2" without a space.) I think Firefox caught most of the first wave, I had some bad typos in there ("...and making the dangerous a more Internetplae" instead of "...and making the Internet a more dangerous place.") Also, some extra letters, syllables, and some extra words in some places...fixed.
Let's see who finds the first error!)
|
|
| Just a bit of a draft... |
[03 Jul 2007|04:43pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
bored |
] |
Yeah, since I haven't updated in like FOREVER (I've been a bit silent on the writing scene) I decided I'd go ahead and post this. It's non-fiction (persuasive essay) about a certain injustice in the US educational system. I wrote it at like past midnight last night when I was lying down with my laptop thinking, so. It's not complete. If I do ever finish it I'll post the finished version here. (BAD FORMAT WARNING)
"Students with extraordinary intelligence who could do marvelous things with the right kind of challenges and care for their intellect are held back. Throughout their elementary and middle school years, in which they begin to set their habits for their life, they are subjected to classes with the rest of the school, and their marvelous intelligence is not nurtured. There are few programs available, so these students naturally get bored with their classes. This, along with daily immersion into the depths of all students, including those who only wish to make it a hard time for students to learn, discourages them from completing their work. Then in high school, when programs become available, these students are not able to finally enter an environment in which their intelligence can be recognised and cared for properly. They did not do their work due to their extreme boredom with what they faced and their doubts about ever having a true challenge. They continuously questioned whether their schoolwork truly mattered and decided it was a waste of their time to work on such trivial nonsense far below their level. Due to this, their grades declined regularly. Grades are the main measure of a student's ability to comprehend the material in school, and homework and classwork are often a large portion of their grade. Due to the student not completing their homework and classwork, but performing extremely well on tests and such, their grades are average, at best. On the applications for programs for the gifted, oftentimes they wish you to enter your GPA. But these gifted students have a low GPA even in the face of their superb intelligence. Therefore, they oftentimes cannot enter these programs and never manage to have their intelligence carefully nurtured and treated correctly. Having never been in a challenging environment, and with the havoc this has wreaked on their willingness to work, they face a troublesome reality in the workforce. But before they enter the "real world," they naturally wish to apply to college, if they have enough faith that it will challenge them. Again, the grades come into play, and they are denied entry to the college of their desire. They are forced to settle with a mediocre establishment, and again they are not challenged. This painful process, with sixteen years of education that never challenged them and indeed only encouraged them not to work and only to be bored with their tasks, sets them up for an extremely difficult time as they apply for a job. If no truly challenging programs are established for the young gifted student, starting with elementary school, their life will be severely screwed up."
|
|
| ok... |
[01 May 2007|11:55pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 bouncy |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Decemberists |
] |
...so maybe i'm not going to be that quick with my literary analysis of Les Mis. :p
I'll do it soon. Maybe. We're working on our multicultural fair projects in GT so I have to prepare a report and presentation on Venezuela. :/
ANYWAY, on the subject of literature, yeah, reading more H.P. Lovecraft. I've been attempting to get more people into it as well. I've succeeded with a couple of people -- I've even had my books snatched during class without me noticing (I'm looking at you, Logan.)
But yeah, I've been TRYING to read more. I'm going to try and get my hands on more Victor Hugo stuff, too. :) And looking at next year, it should be pretty sweet; I should get into Advanced English, which focuses on writing skills and literary analysis, and HOPEFULLY I'll be able to take French, Orchestra, and Humanities. It depends though -- Mr. Keffer is looking into whether or not I will actually be able to drop gym in eighth; it could be mandatory for VA students. Which would suck. I really REALLY REALLY want to take Humanities tomorrow. Classical literature is SO <3. But it'll probably be what I drop if I have to take gym; it's not a high school credit, and French would look better on a college transcript.
So guys, PRAY for me, please? :) Just felt like updating. out.
|
|
| books... |
[28 Apr 2007|10:50pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 amused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
The Decemberists - Cocoon |
] |
...are in my realm of subject i can cover while staying on-topic here, right?
well i've got something:
Les Misérables. By Victor Hugo.
Pure genius. I'm planning to find some old literature webs from sixth grade GT and do some in-depth literary analysis, plot summary, review, the whole nine yards in a bit.
so bbiab.
|
|
| BACK TO WRITING LULZ. |
[12 Apr 2007|11:02pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
amused |
] |
Yeah. This was something I guess I based on Part V of The Tain by The Decemberists. A short story that I really rushed. It turned out pretty badly, but I needed to excercise by writing SOMETHING. So try to enjoy? :3
One Chance.
"Be careful."
Mother was always warning Melissa about silly things. She hated it; she was grown-up! After all, she was sixteen. But still, Melissa loved her mother and tended to obey her. "Yes, mother!" she yelled back as she ran out the door, forgetting to close it in her excitement. It was beautiful today. Fragrant flowers bloomed everywhere, their scent filling the air. Melissa enjoyed Spring very much; she could skip out into the meadow and be overcome by the smell. It touched her and tickled her senses. When she looked at it from afar, she felt the urge to dive into the colors. It was just absolute beauty; a huge patch of red and blue and yellow and purple and everything you could think of. Her nose twitched with the fragrance. It was even better then when her mother was baking cookies. The smell of baking cookies always made Melissa's stomach rumble. She would run into the kitchen and bother her mother endlessly as she waited for the baking goodness to be done with. As that thought crossed her mind, Melissa could feel herself getting hungry and her mouth watering at the thought of pulling apart freshly baked cookies, watching the chocolate chips slowly drip down like a waterfall of great taste. She shook it off and started to gallop into the meadow when she heard someone call out her name.
"Hey Pissy Lissy!" the voice shouted.
Melissa knew who it was immediately. Only one boy ever teased her like that; Charlie Levine, the local bully. She hated him with a passion. He always called her such names. "Pissy Lissy" was a nickname he gave her after she got really mad at him once and hit him. He wound up with a bloody nose and ran away. Charlie was such a coward, Melissa thought. She had the urge to go straight up to him and punch him now, but she resisted. It was too lovely today, with the cloudless sky seeming like a reflection of the river in the forest by the meadow. She just ran faster, but Charlie ran after her. He was quicker than Melissa and ran straight into her, knocking her over, making her cry out.
"Ow! What do YOU want, Levine?"
"After that goddamned bloody nose you gave me, I'd expect an apology from you." Charlie said, bending over Melissa.
"Why would I apologize to the likes of you?!" Melissa yelled, trying to roll away.
Charlie grabbed Melissa and pulled her up to his face. They were rather the same height, so he could look straight into her eyes. "Because if you don't, I'll mess you up real good back."
Melissa ignored him and gave him a kick right where it hurt, running frantically into the forest and stopping by the river, panting. She took a few breaths and looked up, glad to see that Charlie hadn't caught up to her yet. She looked around and noticed that some men seemed to be here recently. One of them had left his ax in a tree. "Quite an early start on the winter," Melissa said quietly.
"Well them's smart men, getting an early start. Much brighter than you'd ever be!"
Melissa turned around, startled to find Charlie right behind her. He pushed her to the ground and yelled, "Don't you dare even try anything, stupid girl! I ain't letting you get a shot in again, not after what you did back at the meadow!"
Melissa backed away and screamed. Charlie put a hand over her mouth to shut her up, but she bit him before he could do much. She pushed him away and got up, brushing herself off. A bit of sunlight filtered through the trees shone on the ax, making it glimmer. Melissa ran to the tree and pulled out the ax with the kind of strength one gets when they're scared and fighting for what they think is their life. Charlie had got up and was running towards Melissa by now. In that frantic moment, before she was able to think, Melissa swung the ax straight at Charlie's neck, bringing his head clean off his shoulders with one fell swoop. As the head fell to the ground, Melissa dropped the ax and fell to her knees, looking at Charlie's now dead body. Tears swelled in her eyes as she realized what she had done. She knew she couldn't tell anyone, or even stay there much longer. She gathered herself, got up, and ran back out of the forest, too afraid to think of the way, blindly relying on the trail.
Melissa went straight into her house, slamming the door. The noise brought her mother down.
"Melissa, darling, why were you back so early?"
Melissa hung her head. "Not much to do outside today. Brilliant but a bore." Her mother turned her head to Melissa and saw her beat-up appearance.
"Darling, dear, what have you done? Your clothes are torn and your make-up runs."
Fearfully, Melissa thought of a lie. "I ran through brambles and blooming thistles, stopping to wash my face in the river before I came home." Her mom examined her more.
"Darling, dear, what have you done? Your hands and face are smeared with...blood."
Melissa grew pale. "Charlie came and called me out to butcher his mother's sow." Her mother drew back.
"But darling, dear, they found him dead this morning on the riverbed."
Melissa started to cry. She knew she was in for it. She'd be hung for what she did. Her life had been shattered in that tiny moment.
"Hush now, darling. Don't you cry. We can get through this."
Melissa hugged her mother tight. "How?" she whispered.
"The sheriff has it out for that Daniel. Some gossip that he's mad. He was out chopping wood today, but it's only Spring. It was his ax that was by the river. It won't be hard to convince everyone that he was the one who did it. Wash up."
Melissa obeyed.
After getting on some new clothes and brushed the branches out of her hair, Melissa ran with her mother to the sheriff, frantically spinning a web of lies about how Daniel was the one who murdered Charlie Levine. The sheriff believed them. He went out and assembled everyone after erecting a pole in the center of town.
"We now know who was responsible for Charlie Levine's murder. With the help of Melissa and her mother here, we have reason to believe it was 'the mad man,' Danny Grant," he announced, watching everyone gather around Daniel, wanting to be the one responsible for his hanging. Charlie's father was the one who pushed Daniel into the center, throwing ropes out shortly after. He looked in tears, and Melissa felt guilt rise up in her. She looked at her mother who shook her head.
"You can't take responsibility for this, 'Lissa. It's too much. You'd be dead, and I would be ruined." she whispered. Melissa nodded, turning her head back to the center, where the sheriff and some other men were already managing to tie Daniel to the pole. He was yelling things that Melissa could barely understand, but she caught a few words: lies, set up, framed, and scariest of all, Melissa. Listening more intently, she thought she heard that Daniel had been in the woods and saw Melissa kill Charlie. Melissa's heart was beating, but the sheriff ignored Daniel. They set the pole ablaze, watching Daniel yell in agony as he was burned alive. Everything Melissa had done just today rushed into her mind. It overwhelmed her. She ran out of the crowd in tears, taking to her room. Her mother rushed after her.
Melissa was in bad shape after that. She refused to eat at all, and had taken to mumbling to herself for hours on end. Days turned into weeks that passed by agonizingly for Melissa's mother. Women in the streets muttered that she had gone mad. And she had. She was responsible for the deaths of two human beings and the total devastation of a family, having caused them the loss of a son. All in a few seconds. Seconds that would determine her life. A moment that would determine her forever. She descended into a depression as well as a horribly shattered state of mind. She died a month later after going completely without food. Her time of death was the exact moment in which she had acted foolishly. When she had caused three deaths and two families pain and ridicule for the rest of their lives.
"Be careful," indeed.
|
|
| Ugh. (off-topic) |
[07 Apr 2007|10:29pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 confused |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
the decemberists. since 4 for jon. |
] |
I know. I'm twelve. Not even close to thirteen yet. Much less close to eighteen. But I'm thinking about college. And I'm looking at early-entry programs. Namely, Mary Baldwin College (up in Staunton, VA -- two hours away) and their PEG (program for the exceptionally gifted) program. (yeah, that's a bit redundant, but I'm tired. I've been way too worked up about meeting Jonathan.) Their website is right here. I know, it'd be difficult, but I REALLY think I might be able to make it. Mom, Travis, Nick, and Justin all say to go for it, but I don't know. Anya says she doesn't think that I should do it, and Jonathan's only comment on the matter has been, "You're too young for college. :|." We all know he enjoys sarcasm, wit, and satire. And we also know that I sometimes have trouble telling the difference between when someone's serious or not, so I'm not sure if he's just kidding around. I really think I'll ask him whenever he gets online (ugh, Comcast's hidden limits suck; now he can only get online from work.) If he DOES say yes, then I think I'll go ahead and talk to Mrs. Morris and Ms. Everette about it. If he says no, I'll get a few more people's opinions on it.
BEING OLDER SUCKS. I miss elementary school and noworries. :/
|
|
| HIATUS |
[27 Mar 2007|10:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
blah |
] |
yesyes romance story on hiatus. Doing shit with school. Normal standardized testing that takes place every 9wks along with preparing a newspaper. Preparing for spring break. gaghjhgdf.
|
|
| OFF TOPIC |
[20 Mar 2007|06:39pm] |
Okay, now normally I wouldn't consider doing something like this, but I need to get it into the blogosphere. For those of you that know about it, ignore it, just keep waiting for chapter 5 of my romance story (HINT HINT).
I stumbled across a new site: Sorry About Our President.
Anyone that's even SLIGHTLY liberal-fuck that, anyone who is INTELLIGENT, PLEASE apologize.
I hate Bush.
[[Now let's see how long it takes for me to get arrested for excercising my right to free speech. After Bush's decision to SUSPEND HABEUS CORPUS, I'm probably fucked. Oh well. Guess you guys might not get your writing after all.]]
end.
|
|
| Chapter 4 of romance story? |
[19 Mar 2007|08:02pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
amused |
] |
I got writer's block after a while, so I waited a few hours then picked up in the middle. I don't like doing that, because I start thinking that I won't complete what I'm working on. But here you go. Not much dialog. Covers Sebastian and Christine's date. It's an okay chapter, I think. Enjoy.
As we walked through the beautiful hallways, heading to the main auditorium, I was surprised to see such a large crowd. Not many people looked familiar. I guessed that they weren't from around here, but had heard of this place and decided to check it out. I felt slightly out of place, but Sebastian just smiled at me and made me light up and feel much more confident. We sat down and watched intently, straining to hear the waiter taking our order through the noise of the crowd around us.
Despite the huge amount of people, we were able to see the stage rather well. Sebastian had purchased great tickets for us. I wondered how he could afford to splurge so much. He was very well-dressed, and ordered an expensive meal, encouraging me to do the same, saying he'd cover it. I guessed he was fairly wealthy. We talked, though it was difficult to hear. After a while, right as our food was served, an announcer came onto the stage. He welcomed everyone and told about the upcoming play. I was ecstatic about it. As the play started, Sebastian put his arm around me and held me tight. I nearly fainted from joy right then and there. But I managed to stay conscious and watch the play. There were so many beautiful parts, but I think my favorite part was then Sebastian and I softly sang A Heart Full of Love. It made me so happy. And when I started to cry, he just kissed me on the cheek and wiped the tears away. I just hugged him. There was one highlight of the evening that will stick in my head forever. After the show, as we were walking out of the auditorium, he pulled me close to him. He then whispered:
"The actresses were beautiful. The songs were beautiful. Everything was wonderful about tonight. But you were more beautiful. I won't forget this."
He kissed me. I'm normally very good with words, but they can't describe what it was like. Those three words just sum it up the best. My first kiss with this handsome man that I think I was beginning to fall for, in one of the most amazing places in the world. He kissed me. Me. Little-old Christine Lockhart. Just a kid in so many ways. I often looked at Marie with envy for her experience. She was quite a few years older than me, and knew a lot more. But at that moment, I believed that I was the luckiest girl ever. That Marie was the one who should envy me. That anyone would envy me. I held Sebastian close. There wasn't much I could say. Except thank you.
"For what?"
"For being here. For tonight. For that amazing kiss. Just...Thank you."
"Christine, you're a beautiful woman, and from what I've gathered from talking to you, an amazing one too. I really enjoyed tonight, and I really want to do something like this again, say, Friday, at six?"
I smiled. "Of course. You're a great man, Sebastian."
He kissed me on the cheek again. "Then Friday it is. Now, my lady, after you." He gestured to the car. As I got in, I was overcome by a huge amount of joy as I looked over the night. I had never felt so open, I thought. Sebastian got in and we talked more and more as he drove me home. He gave me another kiss as I headed inside, and I was sort of regretting having to leave. I knew I'd speak to him again though. Rex jumped on me once I got in the house and I laughed, petting him. I looked at the time, thinking that I was too tired to call Marie. It was eleven o'clock.
"Oh, wow." I said to myself. It hadn't felt like much time went by at all. I had so enjoyed the night with Sebastian that I didn't take any notice of anything. I decided I would call Marie first thing tomorrow morning. She was going to love hearing about this.
|
|
| Romance Update - Chapter 3. |
[18 Mar 2007|11:49pm] |
Haha, horrible chapter this time. But I blame CERTAIN PEOPLE for distracting me. I was strongly debating with myself whether or not to put the whole date in this chapter, but I decided I'm too tired right now. Ah well. Enjoy. If you can. :)
I woke around five, thoughts about tonight still buzzing around in my head. I couldn't wait. But as I thought about it, I realized just how little I actually knew about this guy. He seemed pretty nice, but you can never be too sure. I decided to call Marie just to stop the paranoia.
"Hello?" She said in a weary voice.
"Marie? It's Christine. I've got something to ask you about."
"Ask away."
"Well...You know that guy who was asking you for the papers? Sebastian?"
"Yeah...What about him?"
"What's he...like?"
"You've got a date."
"I do NOT!"
"You're a horrible liar."
"Well, maybe sort of. But tell me what I've got myself into this time?"
"You'll see. All I'm going to say is that you'll love it. I don't want to ruin the surprise."
I was a little curious, and pressed on asking, but Marie refused to tell me anything. She just kept saying no. She had this tone in her voice. I could tell she was grinning on the other end of the phone. I just sighed, exhausted, and said, "Well, thanks anyway. I promise to tell you all about it."
"You'd better!"
"I'll see you around, hon. Bye!"
"Bye."
As we hung up, all I could do was keep generating fantasies about what it would be like. I noticed it was six thirty now. I ran off to shower and pamper myself – and find something to wear! Sebastian kept coming to my thoughts like an assault on my mind though. He kept making me do stupid little things and keep tripping over myself. I finally found myself ready about fifteen minutes before eight. It was agony to wait for him. I watched the clock ticking by, second by second, minute by minute, until finally I heard a knock on the door. I went to answer it, and was greeted once more by an angelic face. I looked back at the clock. He had knocked just at the stroke of eight.
"Please tell me you did not wait outside my door with a watch waiting for eight o'clock to come and knock at that very second."
"What if I told you I did?"
"I'd have to kick you. I've been waiting for you. Waiting isn't something I do well."
"I did."
"Now watch it before I start hating you, tease."
"Ouch, the words, they strike! It hurts!" He clamped a hand to his chest and let out a mock yell. "Run away!" This earned him a kick straight in the shin. "Ow! That actually hurt."
"Serves you right, mister. Can we get on with this?"
"Oh fine. Ladies first." He gestured to his car.
"You'd better get in first then." I mocked his gesture. He seemed of the mind to say something, but bit his tongue. His shin was probably still hurting. I stepped into his car, followed by him. As we drove away, we started to talk. And talk. I learned a lot about him – his family, where he works, what he does, some likes and dislikes, and his personality. He seemed really upbeat and vibrant as we shared words. I liked that. I'd always had this thing about wanting to cheer people up whenever they seemed sad, and it put a burden I didn't want to have on my shoulders. But with Sebastian, I just felt so free. I didn't really seem to have any problems with him. I still look back on myself and wonder what I was thinking though. It was only the third day I had known the man. Still, I just felt like...I don't know. I just really liked him.
I was then brought back to reality from my moment by someone poking me rather sharply in my side. Sebastian smiled at me. "Hello little dreamer. We're here." I blushed.
"Maybe I wouldn't have to dream if you wouldn't TEASE so much!"
He grinned. "Well come on then." Taking my hand, he led me out of the car.
I, simple Christine Lockhart, walked arm in arm with him, Sebastian Divan, possibly the most handsome person I had ever met, into possibly one of the most beautiful, amazing theaters in the world.
I had never felt more beautiful...and like a living cliché.
|
|
| More old treasures. |
[18 Mar 2007|01:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 complacent |
] |
I'm pretty sure I wrote this a while ago, after my teacher started encouraging me to write more and more. *shrug* It's not the best thing I've written. And kinda emo-ish by a lot of people's standards. But ah well. "Enjoy." edit: also, i never finished it. So it stops in an "odd place." Ah well. I might pick it up later if I feel like it.
Selena's Journal.
Chapter One: Why?
Pain. Anguish. Torment.
These words, along with others like them, filled Selena's mind as she spilled her thoughts into her last revenue of solitude and trustworthiness; her journal. There was also the question that she had been asking since she was a young child.
Why? Why do I have this pain? Why do I have to suffer for other's pleasure?
She could never answer this question. God didn't seem to want to either. As a result, she abandoned him. Selena could not believe in a father that cared...Her own biological father had walked out on her mother when Selena was 3 days old. Mother was the only one around, and even then she seemed to never have the time to listen. So Selena considered herself alone. Alone in a cruel, dark world bent on destroying her from the inside out. There were no parents she could trust. No friends she had to confide in. No god that answered her prayers, her pleas to be delivered...Or die. Death was the only thing Selena could think of that could comfort her. She locked herself up in her room nearly every night, crying, remaining unheard. She longed to find someone she could trust. Someone that would listen to her. Someone that could understand her pain. She searched and searched, but to no avail.
The screeching as the bus came to a stop and the students began to yell and push their way out brought Selena back to the present. Quietly she proceeded into the school, with a desire to get through the day and go back home so she could cry again. Crying. It seemed like it was all she could do. She could only sit in the dark, tears overcoming her as she looked upon her pointless life. She sat, lost again in her world of despair.
Then came the bell. The yelling of children overcoming her again, Selena slowly proceeded back to the bus. Finally to go home. Finally to return to a world of pain all her own.
It was an excruciatingly slow trip, as it always was. Selena didn't know why she wanted to be home so terribly today, but still she waited in anxious silence. Finally, the bus screeched to a stop again, and she slowly stepped off. With a sigh, she looked to the sky as she walked home. She asked herself again. Why.
Selena slammed the door to her house and walked to her room. However, again, she didn't get there before her mother started to scream at her for slamming the door. Selena closed her eyes and wished herself away. Again, she pleaded to be gone. To die. And as usual, her pleas were left unanswered. Silently she walked into her room and collapsed on her bed, curling up to think.
This...Is too much. Everyone hates me. I'm unable to even keep up in school with all this going on. I have no friends. No one cares about me. And it's been years, but the pain's never gone away. I prayed and prayed, begging and pleading for help, salvation, deliverance, even death if that's what was necessary to keep me from this anguish. But...I'm alone. And destined to be that way. So why?
With a sigh, she got up and got online. She noticed a new person in her most frequented chat room...And began to talk with him. And talk. And talk. He gave her his screenname, and she found out his name was Dameon. She loved the name, and believed it to hold some beautiful and magical background. He, however, hated it, and therefore went by Drakh. Selena carried on her conversation with Dameon far into the night, and she thought, that just for a moment...She had been truly happy speaking to him. As she went to bed, thoughts of him filled her mind, and as she drifted away into dreams, she dreamed of him.
"Selena..." Dameon whispered, grasping her hand. "Selena..." "Dameon..." she answered, just as quiet. The cool night breeze blew upon them, stars and moon shining down, the leaves of the trees in the forest casting their light on the ground in beautiful patterns. A heart shaped light surrounded Selena and Dameon. As the sun slowly rose, dawn beginning to break, and the wonderful music of the birds filled the air, Selena rested her head on Dameon's shoulder, feeling safe. For the first time since she was a young child...She truly smiled. She felt...Wanted. Dameon put his arm around her and whispered in her ear. "Selena, I will always be here. Don't think that you're alone. When you need a light to guide you through the darkness of pain, I'm there. I will be your shoulder to cry on. You can trust me, Selena. Be honest with me, and always share what's troubling you. I want to help you. I..lo-"
The blaring noise of her alarm clock brought Selena back to the present. She groaned, turning over, and thinking about her dream. It could never be. Come on. I've only just met him, for God's sakes. And it's not like anyone could care that much about me. I'm just denying my reality. Again.
Sighing, she rolled over again and turned her alarm clock off. Yawning, she looked around. Still perfectly dark. Quickly getting dressed, she stepped outside, shivering in the cold morning air. It was around 6am. Suddenly, Selena remembered. Today...Was December 10th. It was her birthday. She never really celebrated it these days. It seemed to her that it was pointless. Like celebrating the anniversary of the birth of Satan. But something much more worse and pathetic. She sighed, and then suddenly remembered her conversation with Dameon the last night. She smiled at just the thought of him. She tried to shake it off, but he remained in her mind. With a slight smile still on her face, Selena went back inside and curled up on her bed, still thinking of Dameon. She just couldn't seem to get him off of her mind.
|
|
| Moar romance? o_O |
[18 Mar 2007|01:04pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
cheerful |
] |
Yeah, I actually WROTE A SECOND CHAPTER of that romance thing I posted yesterday, haha. If I keep this up, this might be halfway decent. Enjoy this rarity. Cause I never finish anyth
That Saturday passed by and a dreary, rainy, uneventful Sunday followed. We slept in most of that day. But finally, Monday arrived, and Marie came home just as scheduled. She thanked me and held Josie and Evan tight telling them she missed them greatly.
"Again, thanks, Christine. Oh...Did you happen to get a phone call from a man?" Marie asked, hands full with Evan.
"No, but I did get a visit from a man named Sebastian."
"Oh, he asked for some papers?"
"Yeah, he did." I was grinning at the memory.
"I'll have to get back to him on that. He's a work partner of mine. Once more, thank you for watching Josie and Evan." She leaned in to whisper the next part. "Mind doing it again? Really soon?"
I laughed. "Maybe." With that, I hugged her and went on my way, heading back home, anxiously awaiting the call from Sebastian. It came. I had just got back into the house and barely had time to set my keys down before he called. He sounded a little tired, but he masked it well.
"Hey, is it...Christine? Christine Lockhart?"
"Yes indeed. Should I feel honored that you managed to remember my name?"
He laughed. "Maybe. But I seem to do a good job of remembering pretty girls, and names aren't too difficult..."
"I'm of the mind to slap you."
"Well then I guess I shouldn't tell you that I have two tickets to The Galleria!"
The Galleria was a beautiful theater. As you watched a magnificent play, you would be served with some of the finest food in the country. "Tsk! Well you know it's discount if you have a girl by your side there."
"Really, now? When did they declare that?"
"When women started getting money."
"Ah. Well...Wanna go?"
I smiled, even though he couldn't tell over the phone. "Sure."
"So I'll pick you up around...eight tonight? They're putting on Les Miserables."
I gasped, but slightly, trying not to let him hear.. I had always wanted to see Les Miserables. "Of course."
"Well, I'll see you tonight then." He made a slight kissy sound. "Bye!"
"Aw, bye." Right after we hung up, I kept my hand on the phone for a few seconds, then screamed out "YES!" I was so happy. My dog, Rex, came over to me and licked me, wondering what was going on. I hugged him tight. "Rex, honey, mummy's got a date! ...I think." Rex barked. I ran upstairs and collapsed, dreaming of what would happen later tonight.
|
|
| Kis? Writing romance? haha |
[17 Mar 2007|03:25pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
accomplished |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
I can't write with music. *cough* |
] |
Yeah, I haven't really ever written much romance, but here's a little chapter. Any comments or anything, please. NEED to get in shape, definitely gonna try out NaNoWriMo this year. It may be months, but months become DAYS really really quick.
They say that if you truly love someone, you'll let them go. If they come back, then they were yours all along.
I thought I'd always abide by that. But where does fear factor in? What about when you stand in a person's presence, and you get that feeling - you know the one I mean. Where you feel like you're on top of the world and stuck in a room with the walls closing in every second at the same time. When you feel like you could die from happiness and fear in the same second. I believed I'd let a person go, and that he would come back just like a boomerang. But the day he looked into my eyes, I didn't know left from right. Sebastian Divan. Even his name was heavenly. A simple touch from him would make me feel like an angel! I just got this rush of everything flooding through my heart at the same time and it felt so wonderful to talk to him. I was so happy - but I was so scared! I think the day I met him may have been the second-best in my life. I, Christine Lockhart, just a silly twenty-two year old girl - how the times have changed.
I guess it all started when I got a call from a friend telling me about how she needed me to come over and look after her kids since she was going out of town. Well, her daughter Josie and son Evan were eleven and eight respectively, and Josie always made sure her brother never got too badly out of line, so I agreed. I came over that Saturday and she gave me "the talk" on where everything was, about her cats and their feeding schedule, the numbers to call if anything went wrong, the list goes on and on. Just nodding my head and smiling, I tried to absorb it all. She gave me a hug and told me she'd be back on Monday. When she left, Josie came downstairs and gave me a big hug, calling me "Auntie Chrissy." I always loved that nickname. Evan came down a few minutes after Josie, sulking a bit. He quickly lit up when I took out my games and put on a movie. We played through the morning, and at about noon, the doorbell rang. Wondering who it could be, I answered it and was greeted by possibly the most handsome face I had ever seen.
He spoke, and I thought I was speaking to an angel. "Oh...Hello. So Marie's already left?"
I nodded, slightly red in the face, and asked him what he needed. He said that he was hoping to ask Marie for a few papers before she left. I told him she wouldn't be back until Monday, and he looked a bit disappointed. He then was pinned down by a rather energetic puppy tackling him and licking his face. This alerted the kids.
"Uncle Sebastian!" Josie yelled, adding to the weight pinning him down. Evan followed with more tackling, as I just stood aside and laughed. "Uncle" Sebastian simply smiled and picked himself up, hugging the kids.
"By the way, the name's Sebastian Divan." He wheezed, outstretching his hand.
I giggled. "I believe I gathered that from these two," I replied, smiling at Josie and Evan, "Being Christine Lockhart."
"Pretty name. But I guess it fits such a pretty girl."
I blushed and lightly slapped Sebastian on the cheek, repeating it once he asked for my number.
"Ow! Come on." He said, sticking his tongue out.
I complied, writing it down, and whispering in his ear, "Monday, I'll be home. Wanna do something?"
"Maybe." He gave me a light peck on the cheek and headed off, driving away.
I just smiled. This was going to be a great weekend.
|
|
| Old Treasures. |
[17 Mar 2007|01:47pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
blah |
] |
Something I found that I wrote in sixth grade that sparked my teacher to start talking with me about alternative writing assignments. Just a descriptive writing paper.
The roaring of the crashing of the waves would wake one from any slumber. But it was empty. For miles around, there was only the looming, murky darkness, the tiny grained sand, and the deep water, with its waves tossing and crashing about. A salty smell hung in the air, created by the ocean. The water, which had become calm, now flawlessly reflected the bright moon and the winkling stars, their beauty poetic enough to create their own majestic, yet silent song. A faint, dim, pink light began to shine on the horizon. The eerie, yet serene silence was broken by the song of a far-off bird. Life became more and more apparent, and the beach seemed to have an aura of pure, unbroken joy spread across it.
In the darkest and gloomiest of nights, the bright morning will bring its song of life. But enjoy the beautiful, melancholy song of the night.
|
|
| So. |
[13 Mar 2007|08:29pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 tired |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Evanescence |
] |
Yeah. I deleted my old one because of drahmahhh. So I have this one. I never really used the old one except when I was in a manic or depressed mood. This one will only be for writing. And writing. And writing. If I DO feel the need to share SOMETHING, I might post it here. Seeeeeyah.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
|
|
|
|
apathetic