What Do You Think Of My Short Story And What’s A Title I Should Use?

A sea of black.
That’s all that my eyes could see. All I saw was black, black and more black. Black flowers, black suits, black dresses, black shoes, black handkerchiefs. Everything was black.
Didn’t anyone realize that Jack hated black more than any other person? He was always telling me how I needed more color in my life. How black was boring, and not interesting at all. I never listened to him though.
And now I wish I had.
The priest’s voice floated over my head to everyone behind me. I wasn’t listening to his speech about God and Heaven and how we should not be sad on this day, but “rejoice that our brother was with our Mighty God.” I was too busy lost in my own thoughts, in my own sorrow.
Was it selfish of me to not be happy, but to want him back? Was I being selfish when I wished and prayed that he’d be back with me? I just wanted one more day. One more day to tell him my dreams, one more day to tell him how I was sorry, that I never meant to cause this. Just one more day to tell him how much I loved him.
How much I will always love him.
But I didn’t have one more day though. I didn’t even have an hour, or a minute. Our time was over, and to me, that was the saddest thing on earth. Sadder than any story I’d ever heard. Because he shouldn’t have been the one who was up there. It should have been me.
“…Jack was not only talented, but had many friends. And he loved all his friends dearly, especially his best friend, Melody Daniels.” I looked up at my name, only to find everyone looking at me. The best friend. But I was the one who killed him, wasn’t I? Some friend I am.
My voice was loud in the small car, singing along to the radio. I could still hear Jack laugh though.
“Could you maybe, I don’t know, try and sing on key!” He winced when I only raised the volume to both the song and my voice.
Once the song was over, I smiled at him. “I’m sorry if we all can’t have your angelic voice, choir boy.” Laughing, I rolled down the window, sticking my head out the window and into the rain. “Maybe the people out there will like my voice more than you!” I began to sing again. People on the streets looked over at me. Some laughed, others shook their head. I recognized a few people who waved at me.
“Hey, stop that! You’re going to hurt yourself!” His voice was no longer joking.
I looked at him. “Scared I’ll fall out? Please.” I pushed myself out of the car further, laughing when I heard Jack yell.
That’s when the deer dashed out of the woods in front of us, and my world shattered.
If I just hadn’t asked him to take me out for ice cream. If I had been content with staying home and watching movies, then maybe he wouldn’t be in the casket before me. Maybe if I had just waited till the rain had died down. And then maybe he’d be alive right now, and we’d be at the beach, enjoying a nice summer day.
Thinking over this, I looked up at the sky. It was not a nice summer day, but instead the sky was clouded over. The sun was hiding behind the gray blanket, refusing to share its happiness. The trees were a little less green, and the birds didn’t sing. The world was mourning along with us.
Sitting before me was his black casket, ready to be lowered. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like. The doctors had told me at the hospital that he had been badly injured. I was lucky though, they told me. I only had minor injuries. Along with another unwanted problem.
I placed my head in my hands, trying to hide from the world just like the sun was. I thought of all the great times we had enjoyed together. He was the first person I told about my fear of heights. He had been there when I had gotten my ears pierced. Jack was the one who had stayed up all night on the phone with me, the night my father left.
He was the one who knew everything about me.
One single tear, finally free, fell down my cheek, leaving a trail of moisture in its place. It plopped onto my knee, making a tiny puddle. Then another fell, and another and another. Before I knew it, I was silently crying in the midst of that sea of black. Crying for the friend I had lost, and the love I would never have again.
~~~~~~
They were just people. Just like me. But I couldn’t bring myself to go over there and talk to them.
After the funeral finished, we all got in our cars. That was when I allowed my quiet tears to turn to heartbreaking cries that would break even the hardest of hearts. I thought shedding my tears would have made my job a lot easier. But it hadn’t. I was still as frightened as I had been a few hours ago, when I realized that I had to tell them, that they had to know.
Just breathe, I told myself for the hundredth time. One foot in front of the other, I focused on his mother. No one could say that Mrs. Avery didn’t love her son. No one could say that she hadn’t cried from the moment she found out of the terrible accident to this dreadful day. The purp

What Do You Think She Is Up Too?

I Have Been With My Partner For Almost Three An A Half Years, I Meet Her On The Internet Went To The States Twice, First For 16 Days And The Second A Month, She Loved Me So Much And Made Me Belief In Love Which I Never Did Before, We Walk Along Tampa Bay Beach Hand In Hand Saying How Much We Loved Each Other, but Looking Back It Was Not Real As I Thought, Her Partner Died Six Months Before She Meet Me, Teresa Drunk’s Vodka Like Water Every Day So I Could Have Been Anyone We Made Love Like No Other, (When She Was Drunk)I Put It Down To The Loss Of Her Partner Who Died Of Cancer At 50.. I Thought I Could Help Her Get Strong Again Look After Her, After A Year She Moved To The Uk To Be With Me Still Drinking, We Got Married Four Mouths After She Moved Here After The Wedding SHE Got Drunk And Fell Asleep On The Bed With Her Days Clothes On, No Honeymoon There!!! After A Year Of Being At Home She Finds A job.. Which Made Her Feel Better In Her Self.. I Got A Job As A Manager At Coke-Cola.. Which I Was Hurt At Work Jumping Out Of The Way Of A Fork-Left Truck. If I Didn’t I Would Not Be Writing This Post, , I Got Up And Walked Away With Some Pain BUT Thought I Was Ok, How Wrong Was I .. One Of The Drivers Thought It Was Funny. After That I Suffered A lot Of Stress With My Job, There Was No Respect From The Company Through I Was Going To Sue There ***, I Went To My Doctor and said i must have two weeks off and rest.. by that time i was i was suffering from panic attacks and not sleeping well, well when this was happening not much support from my wife, as long as i was working she was happy with me, and to add to my stress she was drinking even more..
On My Return to work two weeks later my boss made me redundant and walked me off the site.. I Was Heart Broken.. And Not Much Support From The Wife, She Stop Me From Having Sex With Her Not All The Time But More When She Wanted It I Think The Word Is Control.. She Loved Me But She Knew Me Being Out Of Work Meant We Would HAVE to Dig Into Her Savings Which Was The LAST Thing I Wanted, Anyway Without Going On Two Years Later.. No Sex Works Late Sometimes, We Used To Make Food Together Now Nothing, she still drinks I Try And Ask Her Why We Don’t Make Love Anymore .. She Just Says She Does Not Want To.. Turns Her Back On Me Every Night.. Now I Drive Her To Work And Pick Her Up.. Comes Home Opens Up A Tin And Watches TV. I Taken Out For Dinner Two Weeks Ago And Brought Her Flowers. I Get So Mad I Even Asked Her If She Had Someone Else She Just Calls Me Names. Go To Sleep She Will Say Do You Like Keeping Me Awake At Night. All I Asked Was For Her To Hold ME.. . So I End Up Crying Now I Don’t Belief In Love And No Support From Her I Feel Lost, Still in Pain With My Spine But She Thinks I Am Making It Up , All I Ever Wanted Was For Teresa To Love Me, Like The Way I Love Her All I know is that I am broken hearted, Looking back I Was Her Walking Stick Holding Her Up Until She Became Strong After Her Partner Died, I Could have been anyone really, I Mean she was even drunk when she meet me at the airport, The Thing Is Which Hurts Me The Most And I Have To Put My Hands Up Is That I Fell In Love With A Drunk, Now She Is Strong She Does Not Need Me Now, No One To Hold Me Up No One To Heal My Pain, Alone I Am, All I Want Is For Her To Hold Me Again To See The Love In Her Eyes, I Know I Will never be Debbie, I know that I wish I was sometimes, I mean who the am I a fake a **** up, a nothing.. I understand why she does not want me, I know her eyes are looking for something better then me, there is a saying if you love them let them go.. what do you think do you think she may have someone else?/

What Do You Think Could Be The Cause Of My Faintness?

I know I should talk to a doctor. I don’t have insurance currently, and it isn’t a major problem for me as it’s been going on for a long time.
Anyway, when I stand up I usually feel very faint, and my eyes go sort of black. I also sometimes fall to the ground, although it’s usually something I do voluntarily as it makes the faintness go away quicker. This happens almost on a daily basis. I never actually pass out, it’s just a lot of faintness.
I’ve also passed out more often than I’d consider normal. Usually it involves pain, so I’ve assumed it’s just that I have a low pain tolerance.. I slammed my finger in a beverage case and passed out, I fell backwards on the jetty at the beach, and another time I don’t really know why it happened. I had cramps and took some pain medication without eating, so I think it may have been that.
My father thinks I may have low blood pressure. What do you think it could be? Thanks for the answers. :]

Help! I Think I’m Allergic To The Sun!?

I live in Florida so its really hot during the sumer, and last year during band camp I as outside alot, and after the first week my eyes and face started to get really itchy. We thought it was because of some meds I was taking so I stoped taking them. But It continues to get worse, my eyes got so swollen I couldnt open them and the skin on my face felt like sandpaper. I went to the doctor and the gave me meds. and it went away.
Then I went to the beach a while later and the same thing happened (not as badly though) We thought it was because of the sun block i was wearing so I stoped putting it on.
Then today (almost a year later) I rode my bike around town for about an hour, and it was really sunny. And even though i wore sun glasses my face got really itchy and my eyes started to swell. I’m not taking any medacation and i wasnt wearing any type of sun block. So the only thing left to acuse is the sun itself. Can you be allergic tot he sun? Why didnt this ever happen to me when i was little? What do you guys think? I really need your help!
Sorry this is so long, but 10 points for best answer!

What Do You Think About Online Dating Scam?

I met a guy from singlesnet.com. He is an engineer from West Germany. His profile said he lives in Long Beach, California. When I talked to him first time he said he has to go to the airport. The next day he said he was in Florida. Two days after he said he went to England to buy a tool so he can go back to Florida to finish his assignment. He asked me for my address so he can send me flowers and chocolate. I was flattered. I told if he wants to give the gifts. He should wait until he comes back to California. He said he would come back before my birthday which is in August. Last night, he told me he has financial problem for buying the tool for the right price. It is very expensive in England and the tax is killing him. He needs to get this item before he go back to Florida. His customer has already paid $115,000 and he has finished the value of the job $55,000. He asked me whether I would buy him an Iphone. He cannot use his credit card before someone has max out his card. It is under investigation. He said the Iphone is only $400 not a big amount. I told him I am very tight with my money, I have a lot of bills and besides I have a reduction 20% on my salary. Then he asked if I could lend him $15000. He wouldn’t mind to give me back the money in double. I told him call his bank for help. If he has a business, he should get credit from his bank. Then he said it took too much time for the bank to fax the paperwork, and plus there are a lot of papers for him to sign. He just need this money for emergency. I told I can only give him advice, I cannot help him financially.
Then he said he might have to go to S. Africa to buy there. It would be a lot cheaper. Somehow I made an excuse, I have to go out.
I am just like to urge people if you are in internet dating site or chat room. Be careful those guys said he is working in S. Africa for a project. Some place out of the United States. I believe they are using the same thing try to rip innocent people money.

What Do You Think Of My Short Story?

A sea of black.
That’s all that my eyes could see every time I looked up. All I saw was black, black and more black. Black flowers, black suits, black dresses, black shoes, black handkerchiefs. Everything was black.
Didn’t anyone realize that Jack hated black more than any other person? He was always telling me how I needed more color in my life. How black was boring, and not interesting at all. I never listened to him though.
And now I wish I had.
The priest’s voice floated over my head, to everyone behind me. I wasn’t listening to his speech about God and Heaven and how we should not be sad on this day, but rejoice that our brother was with our Mighty God. I was too busy lost in my own thoughts, in my own sorrow.
Was it selfish of me to not be happy, but to want him back? Was I being selfish when I wished and prayed that he’d be back with me? I just wanted one more day. One more day to tell him my dreams, one more day to tell him how I was sorry, that I never meant to argue with him. Just one day to tell him how much I loved him.
How much I will always love him.
I didn’t have one more day though. I didn’t even have an hour, or a minute. Our time was over, and to me, that was the saddest thing on earth. Sadder than any story I’d ever heard. Because he shouldn’t have been the one who was up there. It should have been me.
“…Jack was not only talented, but had many friends. And he loved all his friends dearly, especially his best friend, Melody Daniels.” I looked up at my name, only to find almost everyone looking at me. The best friend. But I was the one who killed him, wasn’t I? Some friend I am.
My voice was loud in the small car, singing along to the radio. I could still hear Jack laugh though.
“Could you maybe, I don’t know, try and sing on key!” He winced when I only raised the volume to both the song and my voice.
Once the song was over, I smiled at him. “I’m sorry if we all can’t have your angelic voice, choir boy.” Laughing, I rolled down the window, sticking my head out the window and into the rain. “Maybe the people out there will like my voice more than you!” I began to sing again. People on the streets looked over at me. Some laughed, others shook their head. I recognized a few people who waved at me.
“Hey, stop that! You’re going to hurt yourself!” His voice was no longer joking, but completely serious.
I looked at him. “Scared I’ll fall out? Please.” I pushed myself out of the car further, laughing when I heard Jack yell.
That’s when the deer dashed out of the woods in front of us, and my world shattered.
If I just hadn’t asked him to take me out for ice cream. If I had been content with staying home and watching movies then maybe he wouldn’t be in the casket before me. Maybe if I had just waited till the rain had died down. And then maybe he’d be alive right now, and we’d be at the beach, enjoying a nice summer day.
Thinking of this, I looked up at the sky. It was not a nice summer day, but instead the sky was clouded over. The sun was hiding behind the gray blanket, like a kid refusing to come out of his room. The trees were a little greener, and the birds didn’t sing. The world was mourning along with us.
Sitting before me was his casket, ready to be lowered. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like. The doctors had told me at the hospital that he had been badly wounded. I was lucky though, they told me. I only had minor injuries, along with another unwanted problem.
I placed my head in my hands, trying to hide from the world just the sun was. I thought of all the great times we had enjoyed together. He was the first person I told about my fear of heights. He had been there when I had gotten my ears pierced. Jack was the one who had stayed up all night on the phone with me, the night my father left.
He was the one who knew everything about me.
One single tear, finally free from my eye, fell down my cheek, leaving a trail of wetness in its place. It plopped onto my knee, making a tiny puddle. Then another fell, and another and another. Before I knew it, I was silently crying, in the midst of that sea of black, crying for the friend I had lost, and the love I would never have again.
~~~~~~~~
They were just people. Just like me. But I couldn’t bring myself to go over there and talk to them.
After the funeral finished, and we all got in our cars, that was when I allowed my quiet tears to turn to heartbreaking cries that would break even the hardest of hearts. I thought shedding my tears would have made my job a lot easier. But it hadn’t. I was still as frightened as I had been a few hours ago, when I realized that I had to tell them, that they had to know.
Just breath, I told myself for the hundredth time. One step in front of the other, I focused on his mother. No one could say that Mrs. Avery didn’t love her son. No one could say that she hadn’t cried from the moment she found out

Do You Think You Can, Sum This Up. Like Into A Summery (: Please, And Thank You.?

NORTH MIAMI BEACH, Fla. – In the beginning, there was a boy, a girl and an apple.
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He was a teenager in a death camp in Nazi-controlled Germany. She was a bit younger, living free in the village, her family posing as Christians. Their eyes met through a barbed-wire fence and she wondered what she could do for this handsome young man.
She was carrying apples, and decided to throw one over the fence. He caught it and ran away toward the barracks. And so it began.
As they tell it, they returned the following day and she tossed an apple again. And each day after that, for months, the routine continued. She threw, he caught, and both scurried away.
They never knew one another’s name, never uttered a single word, so fearful they’d be spotted by a guard. Until one day he came to the fence and told her he wouldn’t be back.
“I won’t see you anymore,” she said. “Right, right. Don’t come around anymore,” he answered.
And so their brief and innocent tryst came to an end. Or so they thought.
___
Before he was shipped off to a death camp, before the girl with the apples appeared, Herman Rosenblat’s life had already changed forever.
His family had been forced from their home into a ghetto. His father fell ill with typhus. They smuggled a doctor in, but there was little he could do to help. The man knew what was coming. He summoned his youngest son. “If you ever get out of this war,” Rosenblat remembers him saying, “don’t carry a grudge in your heart and tolerate everybody.”
Two days later, the father was dead. Herman was just 12.
The family was moved again, this time to a ghetto where he shared a single room with his mother, three brothers, uncle, aunt and four cousins. He and his brothers got working papers and he got a factory job painting stretchers for the Germans.
Eventually, the ghetto was dissolved. As the Poles were ushered out, two lines formed. In one, those with working papers, including Rosenblat and his brothers. In the other, everyone else, including the boys’ mother.
Rosenblat went over to his mother. “I want to be with you,” he cried. She spoke harshly to him and one of his brothers pulled him away. His heart was broken.
“I was destroyed,” Rosenblat remembers. It was the last time he would ever see her.
___
It was in Schlieben, Germany, that Rosenblat and the girl he later called his angel would meet. Roma Radziki worked on a nearby farm and the boy caught her eye. And bringing him food — apples, mostly, but bread, too — became part of her routine.
“Every day,” she says, “every day I went.”
Rosenblat says he would secretly eat the apples and never mentioned a word of it to anyone else for fear word would spread and he’d be punished or even killed. When Rosenblat learned he would be moved again — this time to Theresienstadt, in what is now the Czech Republic — he told the girl he would not return.
Not long after, the Russians rolled in on a tank and liberated Rosenblat’s camp. The war was over. She went to nursing school in Israel. He went to London and learned to be an electrician.
Their daily ritual faded from their minds.
“I forgot,” she says.
“I forgot about her, too,” he recalls.
Rosenblat eventually moved to New York. He was running a television repair shop when a friend phoned him one Sunday afternoon and said he wanted to fix him up with a girl. Rosenblat was unenthusiastic: He didn’t like blind dates, he told his friend. He didn’t know what she would look like. But finally, he relented.
It went well enough. She was Polish and easygoing. Conversation flowed, and eventually talk turned to their wartime experiences. Rosenblat recited the litany of camps he had been in, and Radziki’s ears perked up. She had been in Schlieben, too, hiding from the Nazis.
She spoke of a boy she would visit, of the apples she would bring, how he was sent away.
And then, the words that would change their lives forever: “That was me,” he said.
Rosenblat knew he could never leave this woman again. He proposed marriage that very night. She thought he was crazy. Two months later she said yes.
In 1958, they were married at a synagogue in the Bronx — a world away from their sorrows, more than a decade after they had thought they were separated forever.
___
It all seems too remarkable to be believed. Rosenblat insists it is all true.
Even after their engagement, the couple kept the story mostly to themselves, telling only those closest to them. Herman says it’s because they met at a point in his life he’d rather forget. But eventually, he said, he felt the need to share it with others.
Now, the Rosenblats’ story has inspired a children’s book, “Angel Girl.” And eventually, there are plans to turn it into a film, “The Flower of the Fence.” Herman expects to publish his memoirs next year.
Michael Berenbaum, a distinguished Holocaust scholar who has authored a dozen books, has read Rosenblatt’s memoir

What Do U Think Of The Book Im Writing So Far?

kk so im writing a book
im 12
tell me what u think 8^]
be honest
ps sry its so long
I watched in terror as he slowly drew the knife closer to her throat. The light reflected off the knife in a flash that illuminated the fear on her face. She struggled to break fre from the heavy, metal chains restraining her. It was no use. She screamed with fear for her life.wanted to do something-anything but I couldn’t move, my whole body felt so heavy. His eyes filled with a hunger as blood started to spill from her. the cold, hunger eyes turned towards me, “You’re next.”
“NOOOOO!!!!!!”
“Are you deaf? I said, ‘shut up’ as in now, Nikky! Some people don’t want to be up at 5:30am during summer break!” Yelled Mary-Anne.
Ugh. Not again, that was the 12th murder nightmare this month. The weird part is the victim is always different and the cause of death is always different but the killer is always the same.
I rolled over to face Mary-Anne. It felt like someone dropped millions of cinder blocks on my head. D*mn migraines. “turn off the light, be absolutly silent & leave if you want to live to see 10am,” i threatened.
Mary-Anne could tell it wasnt a good idea to p*ss me off when i had a migraine. In a pathetic attempt to hide her fear she rolled her eyes, “You stay quiet and I’ll be quiet.” Fine with me because she shut up.
Mary-Anne is my step cousin. Sadly she was spending the summer with us. She lives in California, so she’s got a perfect tan and a perfect beach body. She also has perfectly wavy brown hair and a perfect, pimple-free face. Her personality, on the other hand, isn’t so perfect. She’s spoiled, snotty, annoying, high matinence, and bratty.
My vision was starting to go crazy, which my migraine was only getting worse. Only one thing to do in a situation like this, take 2 Advil and sleep until conciousness becomes somewhat bearable again.
I stumbled out of my warm, cozy bed to face the mess i call my room. I navigated around the mess on my floorand went across the hall to the bathroom. i took 2 advil then went back to bed. The problem was, sleep wouldn’t come. i piled pillows over my head and waited until the Advil kicked in.
A half hour later, I threw the pillows off my head and crawled out of bed. My head still hurt but I didn’t want to just lay in bed. On my way out of my room, I ran face-first into my door frame. That was a nice addition to my migrane.
I went to the bathroom to see if I was bruised, bleeding, or both. When I looked in the mirror, I jumped back and almost fell flat on my butt. I looked horrible, I mean i looked REALLY bad! My long blonde hair was everywhere, it looked like a rat’s nest. My green eyes were dull and the dark circles under my eyes look 1000 times worse than usual and my usual was the average person’s bad. And to top it all off, I had an ugly bruise starting to form over my rigth eyebrow.
I decided to go find some food. That was kinda my philosophy in life, “when in doubt, eat”. It’s a bad habit, but im a growing girl.
Mary-Anne was rifling through the fridge when I came in the kitchen. “You really eat this stuff? Do you have any-” Mary-Anne gasped when she turned arpund and saw me, “You look like sh*t.”
“And you were hatched from Mars. Now that we’ve covered the obvious, will you move so I can eat?”
She started to ramble on about who knows what, probably something to insult me. I didn’t care so I didn’t listen. I didn’t have the energy to fight with her this morning.
“Earth to Nikky, are you even listening?” Mary-Anne asked, obviously annoyed.
“Nope,” i truthfully replied. But then she stared going off again. “I’m going on a walk,” i said just to shut her up.
Mary-Anne looked at me like i was insane, “ARE YOU CARZY? YOU CAN’T GO OUT IN PUNLIC LOOKING LIKE THAT!!!”
“Okay. okay I’ll go make myself presentable, just chill.”
I went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. Then, I put on some make-up, got dressed, pulled my hair back, and put on a basebsl cap. I looked in the mirror, this was as good as it was going to get.
I was about to leave when my stomach growled. Oh right, breakfast. Cereal, here i come.
I was getting up from the table when I tripped and fell hitting the open milk on my way down. I was laying flat on the tile floor and the milk was about to fall on me. I reached up and tried to reach for the milk, but it was too far away. Suddenly the milk tipped back up on the table. The wasn’t a drop of milk on me.
I quickly rose from the floor and looked around for an explanation. Nothing i was alone in the room. i fellt kind of dizzy. I took a deep breath then yelled that i was going on a walk.
I went into the woods where nobody goes because there’s no path. Okay i have to admit it was kinda of stupid but I always went for walks in the forest to clear my head-and my head was realy spinning. between the migrane, the milk, and the nightmare i was afraid my head would explode. I didn’t think today would be any different f

What Do You Think Of This?

I am twelve and I love writing and for some reason I decided to wirte this. What d you think of this?
“A hard worker, a loving husband and father..” The monotonous priest’s voice droned on and on. He was an old man, his head completely bald except for the edges which he had used to make a horrible-to-look-at combover. His eyes showed he had no interest at being here and he would rather be watching paint dry than be here. “Leaving behind a beautiful daughter and wife, we will all miss him terribly,” I couldn’t listen to a word of it, that cold-hearted man was probably using the same speech he did for every man’s death. I couldn’t take it, this cold, pale body that lay peaceful in front of wasn’t just any man, he was my father! I loved him with all my heart! I-I couldn’t listen to it anymore. He didn’t care about my dad- no one here did, but me and Mom! Dad deserved better, actual mourners come to pay respects to someone they really cared for! Anger bubbled up inside my as I watched two women gossiping while the speech continued. They were dressed in fancy black clothes and hats, I could see one of them was dabbing her eye with a hankerchief though her eyes were dry! I couldn’t take it, I had to leave. I got up angrily, not giving a damn who stared. They all did. Everyone! Everyone at the funeral turned there attention to the most important man in my life, just to watch me stand up. It was a small graveyard and a simple funeral, but at least fifty to sixty people had shown up and none of them cared!
“Why don’t you take a picture it’ll last longer!” I shouted at those two women who were staring at me in disgust. I couldn’t decided whether they were disgusted by my outburst or by my appearance. I guessed a mix of both.
My eyes were red from tears, my hair was down which ment it was probably frizzy and completely messed up. My face looked hideous when I didn’t smile and there wasn’t any chance of me grinning again in my life.
In my eyes they loked disgust too. Like half-witch half-toad sort of thing. On second though all toad. They were related, both with curly blonde hair and auburn eyes. Their faces were round and fat like the rest of them, they had double chins and lobbed on much too much make-up for mourning. This was probably a social event for them. Bitches!
Then, without looking back I ran, going nowhere in particular, just wanting to get away from that joke of a funeral. I ran out of the graveyard tears brimming up in my eyes. I didn’t notice how people were moving out of my way, giving me a path of escape. One person tired to hold me back by grabbing holding on to my arms, but I shook them off. I didn’t notice who they were, I couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. I. Just. Wanted. To. Run. Away.
Once I had shook them off I ran and ran, now trying to cover my face with my jacket sleeve to hide the tears that feel freely down my face. I was running out in the middle of a dangerous road. There was a dangerous crossroads were you could only see in two of the tree direction in front of you. I didn’t care if a car would coming speeding down the road and kill me. I wanted more than anything to be down in a coffin next to my dad. I planned on running straight to the beach, even though it was more than a mile away and there was a storm out at sea. I didn’t care, I preferred the beach on cloudy days.
Why did he have to die and leave me here?! My thoughts were angry and sad at the same time Why does no one care for hm there?! No one seems to care that the single most nice, caring and understanding man in the planet has died! How could Dad have left me like this!? All those times he was always there for me when I was upset and now he has to leave me and now that I need comforting now than ever! All the times he’d hug me and say it would all be alright. Well it won’t this time! All those times I had sat with him on the couch at midnight watching comedy shows and laughing until it hurt. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to laugh again! Why did he have to go? I’m only twelve! I’m starting secondary school in a month! We were going to go fishing in the river soon. I remember talking about it to him..
“Dad, we’ve been meaning to go fishing all summer, and it’s almost august! Can we go on Friday?” I asked him sitting down on the leather couch next to him, watching mock the week.
“Sure, I’ll book us in tomorrow,” I didn’t press the mtter on him. He’d probably forget anyway. “Remind me to untangle the fishing rod too. I think we’d have a hard time fish with only a bucket and a boat,” He smiled at me. We were hoping to go to a fishing school for a lesson. We had decided I would catch the fish and would look away as he killed it. I didn’t like seeing things die.. then again, who did? Duh, serial killers! Why do serial killers become killers? It sounds like a gruesome profession.
My mind would often go wondering like that and I’d ask random question about whatever I was thinking abo

Part Of My Story Tell Me What You Think…?

**I need an original name for a bar too. ))**
“Anything I can get you.” A girl asked with her hair held up in a sloppy bun and her green eyes bright.
“It depends, surprise me.” I tested her seeing if she would actually give me something.”
She turned around and then stopped. “Wait, I need to see some ID.” She smiled.
“You caught me, I’m only seventeen.”
She smiled and poured a reddish pink drink and dropped cherries in it. “Don’t worry I’m not either.” She walked down the bar and left me confused.
I sipped the sweet drink still not quite sure what it was. When she came back around I stopped her.
“What is this? I’m the driver tonight.”
“It’s a Shirley temple,” she smiled devilishly. “For the kiddy.”
“I’m not a kid.” I set the drink down and followed her as she moved. “So how old are you?”
She stopped, “I’m old enough to work here.”
“Are you like twenty or something?”
“Something like that.” She walked down to the other side of the bar to give two people their overflowing beers.
She disappeared behind thick plastic strips that had the sign “Employees Only” and was arched by white Christmas lights, just like the rest of the place.
“Hey,” a girl said behind me.
“What?” I turned around slowly and her face was gorgeous. Long with bronze highlights that looked real and big golden curls. Her body was even better. She had on a short sheer looking black halter dress on that made her look perfect. Her bare feet even looked cute.
“What’s up? Besides the fact that it has been forever!” she said hugging me.
“What?” I was so confused as her wrapped me in a hug.
“It’s me!” she said. “Mia we use to hang out all the time before I moved.”
“Mia!? Wow you look amazing?” I thought back to the time that Mia needed my help to make it around the track once in gym and her flat short hair that curled around her cheeks on the sides. Now she was way, way different
“Thanks not to bad yourself.” Her hand swiped off a piece of lint from my jacket.
“How long have you been back?”
“A couple days, I try to find a house to buy, my mom passed away recently and she left me and my sister a whole ton of money.”
“Your mom died? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She said looking down. “I’m going up to New York soon to see my dad and maybe get a place there too on the Upper East Side.”
“That’s awesome; you’ll have to fly me up there sometime to see it.” I smiled.
“Right!? You should come up sometime with me then we can really catch up.”
“I would love too as soon as I’m done with school.”
“Oh yeah I got that too but I got this tutor thing now that travels with me and stuff it’s so cool!” she looked over at the door. “Well, my boyfriend is waiting for me, I got to go.”
“Alright well I’ll see you later.”
She began to fade into the crowd when she turned around. “Wait!” she yelled. “Here is my number,” she grabbed a napkin and wrote it down quickly. “And my e-mail cause sometimes I’m never by my phone. Bye!” she gave me one quick hug and then was swallowed into the crowd once more.
“Was that your girlfriend?”
“Uh, no.” it was the bar girl again.
“No? You aren’t dating the stereotypical beach blonde dunce who hugged you five times?”
“No I know her from middle school.”
“Oh, right.” she began to pour more drinks and ignore me again.
“Do you want to go outside? Get some air?”
“I already had my break while you were talking to your tramp of a friend.”
“She is not a tramp.”
“I just think she is, she’s never with that guy, or she’s never with the same guy.”
“Did you ever think that she’s not sleeping with them, that maybe she just is smart and knows he’s not for her after the first date? She did make A’s and B’s in school.”
“So did I.” she said.
I waited, “So you’ve graduated?”
“Shut up. I have to do my job.”
“It’s just a question.” I said backing off a little when she green eyes seemed sad.
She didn’t say anything and just stood there with a plastic pitcher in her hand. Then when I finally looked away I heard the pitcher fall and clatter against the wood floor. “Sherrie!” she yelled, a small red head with frizzy curly hair came up to her side. The girl untied the apron and shoved it in her hands. “I need another break, watch the bar for a sec.”

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