Burning, breaking, buried.
My life, my hope, my heart.
Smoldering to the very last ounce,
My eyes couldn’t bear it.
My childhood-crushed and forgotten,
My future- now dim and desolate.
This moment- one I will never forget
The cries, the fear, the desperation,
Smash me into reality
Kick me into despair
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
PIECE NUMERO TRE
Kara Curtin 3-2-10
Continuation of the Parrot Story
As the harsh sound of my cage being handled filled the air, we walked up the pathway to the familiar, creamy white house. The door creaked open as the distinct smell in which I knew all too well smothered my cage. It’s just as I left it, I thought. I was gently handed to the meat packer who threw my cage carelessly across the room and into a dark corner. They disappeared into the kitchen, which was blocked from my view by a wall with many pictures hanging- pictures of me, pictures of us. She hasn’t forgotten, I know she hasn’t. My eyes darted around the room, looking for signs of a permanent guest. Well, there’s two men’s jacket’s on the coat rack, and an ash tray on the dark wood coffee table. She was never a smoker, but I prayed that she started since I’ve been gone.
All I could hear was a muttered conversation between the two, and it was getting louder as it progressed. I strained my ears and shuffled to the front of my cage to listen intently. “I don’t see why you can’t let me have my way, just once!” She said in a tone I recognized immediately- it was her furious voice. I didn’t even have to see, because I knew that along with that shriek, her eyes were wide and her brows firm, just the way they used to be.
“I don’t want chicken tonight!” The meat packer roared in response. I sighed with unbelief and discontent. Are they really fighting about what to have for dinner? The way it sounded, a war was about to begin in that kitchen. She was always patient and passive, and I knew this explosion of anger was the work of the meat packer.
An empty, aching feeling filled my stomach and I couldn’t help but wince as tears slowly fell from my eyes. What has happened? Her nut brown eyes were always full of joy and pure happiness as I remember. The dresses she wore were bright and peppy, matching her bubbly personality. This is not the woman I saw, not at all. She stalked into the living room, and I instantly straightened up as my eyes followed her every move, searching for a familiar sign from the woman I once knew. She ungracefully fell onto the couch and remarked, “Well then, you can make whatever you want to eat yourself.” She threw her feet up onto the coffee table, reached for the remote, and clicked the “power” button as the television came alive with a bright light illuminating the dark living room. This is around the time where she would be tying her jogging sneakers and going out for a run, then coming back, and cuddling with me while the fire churned out the perfect amount of light- just enough to see her radiant face in the darkness.
RING! RING! RING! The phone filled the house with a high pitched tone. “Get the phone!” She screamed not very lady like. The sound of her tired, strained, unhappy voice pierced my ears, and my heart.
Continuation of the Parrot Story
As the harsh sound of my cage being handled filled the air, we walked up the pathway to the familiar, creamy white house. The door creaked open as the distinct smell in which I knew all too well smothered my cage. It’s just as I left it, I thought. I was gently handed to the meat packer who threw my cage carelessly across the room and into a dark corner. They disappeared into the kitchen, which was blocked from my view by a wall with many pictures hanging- pictures of me, pictures of us. She hasn’t forgotten, I know she hasn’t. My eyes darted around the room, looking for signs of a permanent guest. Well, there’s two men’s jacket’s on the coat rack, and an ash tray on the dark wood coffee table. She was never a smoker, but I prayed that she started since I’ve been gone.
All I could hear was a muttered conversation between the two, and it was getting louder as it progressed. I strained my ears and shuffled to the front of my cage to listen intently. “I don’t see why you can’t let me have my way, just once!” She said in a tone I recognized immediately- it was her furious voice. I didn’t even have to see, because I knew that along with that shriek, her eyes were wide and her brows firm, just the way they used to be.
“I don’t want chicken tonight!” The meat packer roared in response. I sighed with unbelief and discontent. Are they really fighting about what to have for dinner? The way it sounded, a war was about to begin in that kitchen. She was always patient and passive, and I knew this explosion of anger was the work of the meat packer.
An empty, aching feeling filled my stomach and I couldn’t help but wince as tears slowly fell from my eyes. What has happened? Her nut brown eyes were always full of joy and pure happiness as I remember. The dresses she wore were bright and peppy, matching her bubbly personality. This is not the woman I saw, not at all. She stalked into the living room, and I instantly straightened up as my eyes followed her every move, searching for a familiar sign from the woman I once knew. She ungracefully fell onto the couch and remarked, “Well then, you can make whatever you want to eat yourself.” She threw her feet up onto the coffee table, reached for the remote, and clicked the “power” button as the television came alive with a bright light illuminating the dark living room. This is around the time where she would be tying her jogging sneakers and going out for a run, then coming back, and cuddling with me while the fire churned out the perfect amount of light- just enough to see her radiant face in the darkness.
RING! RING! RING! The phone filled the house with a high pitched tone. “Get the phone!” She screamed not very lady like. The sound of her tired, strained, unhappy voice pierced my ears, and my heart.
PIECE NUMERO DUE
Kara Curtin 3-17
BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm clock on the table rang and rang while the Hailey’s eyes clenched shut and she felt around for a pillow to cover her ears with. After the “snooze” effect wore off five minutes later, she tumbled out of a web of blankets and stalked towards her closet, grabbing at her green sweater. Hailey heard the ringing of her phone and walked back over to her bed, after answering a text message, she got a quick glimpse of the time- 7:05 AM. She felt her stomach drop as she dashed towards the bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair with lightening speed, knowing she only had 5 minutes until her carpool arrived for school.
Stumbling out of her house and into the awaiting car with her shoes and socks in one hand, and an apple in the other, Hailey whipped around as she felt the weight on her shoulder suddenly disappear. “Why now?” Hailey thought, as she saw her books splattered along the sidewalk along with her new bag that now had a new broken strap.
Plopping down in the first row, third seat of her first period social studies class, Hailey decided that she wouldn’t let her bad morning effect the rest of her day. “Good morning, class. Today I’m going to start by giving back your tests from last week. Most of you did rather well.” Hailey braced herself- she thought that she did alright on the test, and was hoping for at least a B. Mrs. Jacobs threw a paper onto her desk, and Hailey’s eyes darted towards the red “F” circled at the top. Rolling her eyes, she shoved the paper into her bag and crossed her arms, trying to control her anger.
Hailey shuffled into the locker room after school to get ready for her softball game. While rummaging through the pile of clothes in her locker, she realized she could only find one sock. She began to panic- the game was in 15 minutes and she couldn’t play with one sock. With the locker empty and the surrounding floor a disaster, she searched for her coach, and panted, “I can’t find my other sock! Do you have an extra pair?” The coach shook his head, and shrugged with a remorseful smile. Letting out a long “uuuggghhh,” Hailey knew what that meant. Benched.
Barging through the door of her room, throwing her books onto the chair, and whipping her shoes from her feet to the closet door, Hailey dived onto her bed and laid face down, still and silent. Today couldn’t have been worse, she thought while replaying not only the moment she got her social studies test back, but also when she spilled her lunch onto her new pair of jeans, lost the $20 her mother gave her for a field trip, and unintentionally burped when raising her hand to answer a question during English class. She winced when she thought about how she ungracefully knocked into the senior she’s had a major crush on for months, and pouted when realizing that her first conversation with him started with, “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” and ended with, “Uh, sorry.”
Breathing heavily and remaining still, Hailey let the silence surround her. Suddenly, as if she was drifting off to sleep, her relaxed state was shattered by an alarming noise of a monotonous “BEEP BEEP BEEP.” She sprung out of her bed, and frantically looked around, confused. Glancing at the time on the clock, 7:05 AM, she grabbed at her green sweater in the closet and picked up her shoes as she ran out of her room and out of her house.
BEEP BEEP BEEP! The alarm clock on the table rang and rang while the Hailey’s eyes clenched shut and she felt around for a pillow to cover her ears with. After the “snooze” effect wore off five minutes later, she tumbled out of a web of blankets and stalked towards her closet, grabbing at her green sweater. Hailey heard the ringing of her phone and walked back over to her bed, after answering a text message, she got a quick glimpse of the time- 7:05 AM. She felt her stomach drop as she dashed towards the bathroom and brushed her teeth and hair with lightening speed, knowing she only had 5 minutes until her carpool arrived for school.
Stumbling out of her house and into the awaiting car with her shoes and socks in one hand, and an apple in the other, Hailey whipped around as she felt the weight on her shoulder suddenly disappear. “Why now?” Hailey thought, as she saw her books splattered along the sidewalk along with her new bag that now had a new broken strap.
Plopping down in the first row, third seat of her first period social studies class, Hailey decided that she wouldn’t let her bad morning effect the rest of her day. “Good morning, class. Today I’m going to start by giving back your tests from last week. Most of you did rather well.” Hailey braced herself- she thought that she did alright on the test, and was hoping for at least a B. Mrs. Jacobs threw a paper onto her desk, and Hailey’s eyes darted towards the red “F” circled at the top. Rolling her eyes, she shoved the paper into her bag and crossed her arms, trying to control her anger.
Hailey shuffled into the locker room after school to get ready for her softball game. While rummaging through the pile of clothes in her locker, she realized she could only find one sock. She began to panic- the game was in 15 minutes and she couldn’t play with one sock. With the locker empty and the surrounding floor a disaster, she searched for her coach, and panted, “I can’t find my other sock! Do you have an extra pair?” The coach shook his head, and shrugged with a remorseful smile. Letting out a long “uuuggghhh,” Hailey knew what that meant. Benched.
Barging through the door of her room, throwing her books onto the chair, and whipping her shoes from her feet to the closet door, Hailey dived onto her bed and laid face down, still and silent. Today couldn’t have been worse, she thought while replaying not only the moment she got her social studies test back, but also when she spilled her lunch onto her new pair of jeans, lost the $20 her mother gave her for a field trip, and unintentionally burped when raising her hand to answer a question during English class. She winced when she thought about how she ungracefully knocked into the senior she’s had a major crush on for months, and pouted when realizing that her first conversation with him started with, “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” and ended with, “Uh, sorry.”
Breathing heavily and remaining still, Hailey let the silence surround her. Suddenly, as if she was drifting off to sleep, her relaxed state was shattered by an alarming noise of a monotonous “BEEP BEEP BEEP.” She sprung out of her bed, and frantically looked around, confused. Glancing at the time on the clock, 7:05 AM, she grabbed at her green sweater in the closet and picked up her shoes as she ran out of her room and out of her house.
PEICE NUMERO UNO
She was standing in the hallway, laughing with her friend who was taking books out of her locker, when an unfamiliar voice was heard. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he said shyly as his face became red. She turned around and saw that it was him: Bobby. He was the new kid in school. His hair swooped across his forehead, a piece falling into his eyes. She didn’t know anything about him other than the one time her math teacher called on him and his voice cracked.
“Hey, yeah,” she said. “What’s up?” Her friends left her.
“I know you don’t know me, at all actually, but I think you’re really pretty, and I wrote you a poem.” Her eyes darted to the ground, and her wide smile grew weaker.
“Oh,” She whispered at a loss for words.
“Yeah, um, I thought that if you weren’t doing anything tonight, or this weekend, that we could hang out, and maybe go see a movie or something.”
“Uh, yeah, um” She tried to smile kindly to hold back her laughter as she saw her friends hysterical laughing from across the hallway.
“I wrote my number on there, so you can text me.” He said, still staring right into her eyes.
“Okay, sounds good,” She said. The girl stood still after Bobby walked away.
She couldn’t believe what just happened, and tried to regain her balance as she heard some snickers throughout the hallway. Shuffling along to class, thoughts were rushing through her mind. The girl stalked into her next class and instantly the whispers started once more. She plopped down in her seat, and pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper, but didn’t even write anything. Her mind was focused not on the forming of ionic bonds that her teacher was droning on about, but about Bobby. I kind of like him, I mean he’s pretty cute…she thought. As she was contemplating about this dilemma, she remembered the poem is quickly stuffed into her pocket in the hallway earlier. She slipped it out, and began to read it.
“Captor of my eye, beholder of my thoughts…” She put the crumpled paper face down on the desk, and tried to hold in the bit of laughter that was struggling to break free. Then again, he is a little creepy… and I’m not sure he has many friends... She slumped in her seat, as her mind wandered into the future of a plethora of “What ifs?”
The bell rang and the students rose, but the confused and anxious girl was the last. She knew she would have to face him sometime. Thoughts whipped around her head as she obliviously walked through the hallways. She thought about what others would think, because she couldn’t bear any more humiliation.
Throughout the rest of her day, she took the routes that she knew would allow her to avoid Bobby. She analyzed every little aspect of him. She realized that at first, he was a cute, nice guy that was a little shy. Now, he was a lonely, desperate guy who wrote creepy poems. After careful thought, and about a thousand opinions from her friends, she decided that she would just nicely turn him down.
Collapsing on the couch after a long, dreadful day, she pulled out her phone, and began to type. “Hey Bobby, u seem relee kewl, but we should just b friends. Thnx 4 the poem, it was rele sweet :D” That should work. It’s a little straight forward, but I don’t want to lead him on.
Whenever they passed in the hallways after that moment, there was an obvious awkwardness between the two, and their eyes would drift to the floor and their smiles fade. They never talked again, all throughout high school, and well into their adult lives.
10 years later, at their high school reunion, the once confused and indecisive girl stood by the door as a successful, confident woman. A moment later, a tall, muscular man walked through the door, and shook hands with someone off to the left, flashing a beaming smile at the crowd before him. Wow, she thought, who is that? She looked around, and walked closer to the man. Something inside her told her to just go over to him and say hello. As she came closer, he turned and smiled once more. Before catching his eyes, she caught his name tag which read, “Bobby.”
Immediately her memories of high school came rushing back, and she glared unbelievingly into his eyes, and thought, “What if?”
“Hey, yeah,” she said. “What’s up?” Her friends left her.
“I know you don’t know me, at all actually, but I think you’re really pretty, and I wrote you a poem.” Her eyes darted to the ground, and her wide smile grew weaker.
“Oh,” She whispered at a loss for words.
“Yeah, um, I thought that if you weren’t doing anything tonight, or this weekend, that we could hang out, and maybe go see a movie or something.”
“Uh, yeah, um” She tried to smile kindly to hold back her laughter as she saw her friends hysterical laughing from across the hallway.
“I wrote my number on there, so you can text me.” He said, still staring right into her eyes.
“Okay, sounds good,” She said. The girl stood still after Bobby walked away.
She couldn’t believe what just happened, and tried to regain her balance as she heard some snickers throughout the hallway. Shuffling along to class, thoughts were rushing through her mind. The girl stalked into her next class and instantly the whispers started once more. She plopped down in her seat, and pulled out a pen and a sheet of paper, but didn’t even write anything. Her mind was focused not on the forming of ionic bonds that her teacher was droning on about, but about Bobby. I kind of like him, I mean he’s pretty cute…she thought. As she was contemplating about this dilemma, she remembered the poem is quickly stuffed into her pocket in the hallway earlier. She slipped it out, and began to read it.
“Captor of my eye, beholder of my thoughts…” She put the crumpled paper face down on the desk, and tried to hold in the bit of laughter that was struggling to break free. Then again, he is a little creepy… and I’m not sure he has many friends... She slumped in her seat, as her mind wandered into the future of a plethora of “What ifs?”
The bell rang and the students rose, but the confused and anxious girl was the last. She knew she would have to face him sometime. Thoughts whipped around her head as she obliviously walked through the hallways. She thought about what others would think, because she couldn’t bear any more humiliation.
Throughout the rest of her day, she took the routes that she knew would allow her to avoid Bobby. She analyzed every little aspect of him. She realized that at first, he was a cute, nice guy that was a little shy. Now, he was a lonely, desperate guy who wrote creepy poems. After careful thought, and about a thousand opinions from her friends, she decided that she would just nicely turn him down.
Collapsing on the couch after a long, dreadful day, she pulled out her phone, and began to type. “Hey Bobby, u seem relee kewl, but we should just b friends. Thnx 4 the poem, it was rele sweet :D” That should work. It’s a little straight forward, but I don’t want to lead him on.
Whenever they passed in the hallways after that moment, there was an obvious awkwardness between the two, and their eyes would drift to the floor and their smiles fade. They never talked again, all throughout high school, and well into their adult lives.
10 years later, at their high school reunion, the once confused and indecisive girl stood by the door as a successful, confident woman. A moment later, a tall, muscular man walked through the door, and shook hands with someone off to the left, flashing a beaming smile at the crowd before him. Wow, she thought, who is that? She looked around, and walked closer to the man. Something inside her told her to just go over to him and say hello. As she came closer, he turned and smiled once more. Before catching his eyes, she caught his name tag which read, “Bobby.”
Immediately her memories of high school came rushing back, and she glared unbelievingly into his eyes, and thought, “What if?”
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