Smiling For You

Side note:

If you are reading this, please read the entire thing before making judgements about it.

It was as if there was snow inside of my body...snow with a fire inside of it, a flourishing flame growing larger and larger so that I could still feel the chill of the snow but also the burning heat of the fire. It ate me from the inside out...it was as if there was nothing I could do to escape it. And my back, feeling as if it were permanently stooped over, sang a note in falsetto of pure pain, filling me with the undeniable truth that this...this thing, this...horrible, horrible thing...would be the end of me. Not only of me, but of everything I loved and cared about. And what I had forever wished to die would conquer what I had forever wished to triumph, creating a kingdom of nothing but opposite of my wildest dreams.

This is not a love story. It is not a tragic romance in which my Romeo runs off, leaving me in agony to tell you of how much the loss of his presence hurts. No, I am to tell you of real pain.

Death.

When reading, one hears pain and death and may often string them together as the death of a lover, depending on the author of the tale. But lose all your opinions of the author for this moment and just think of an ordinary tale by an ordinary person you have never heard of. What then comes to mind when the topic of death is introduced? Is it too dark, perhaps, for your taste? If it was a romance writer, it is to be known that the author would not dwell on the death half so much as the romance that caused the death to hurt. If it were a horror writer, death might be simply the flip of a page, after all, what good horror story ends with every character alive and well? None that I have heard of. If it was a comical author, one who always keeps the reader hurting in the sides, death would often be a surprising thing to introduce. How would it fit in? Would the story, perhaps, turn away from its comical path and veer of into depression? Or would the author simply use the death to introduce new characters or look further into old ones, who end up being a wheelbarrow of laughs? A nonfiction writer, now, would be entirely different from all the rest. Think of a biography: the death of the person the biography itself is about is only important as to the date. It would not speak of how sad the occasion was. If it spoke of any other deaths, perhaps those of loved ones of the person the biography was about, it would most likely mention the person’s mourning and perhaps tell of how it led them to the depression that caused them to do whatever made them important enough to have a biography written about them. All in all, death, when brought up, can bring many thoughts. Frightening thoughts, sad thoughts, perhaps happy thoughts. But I am to expect that your thoughts now will be surprised when you see what I am going to say next.

The death of a perfect stranger.

Perhaps someone you once saw when driving but had not a fleeting thought about. Perhaps someone who walked past you once in a grocery store, who you knew nothing of except that they bumped you. Or, perhaps, someone you have never seen and never will.

A baby is born everyday. A wedding takes place everyday. A birthday is celebrated everyday, and rescues happen everyday. But I might add that someone dies everyday. Divorce papers are signed everyday. A birthday is ignored everyday, and someone is not found everyday. It is not a good thing to think about, and so most try not to dwell on it. But perhaps we should think of the people out there who have no choice but to dwell on it. What if the person you didn’t smile at just lost their sister or brother? What if the person you honked at just found out that their child is deaf? What if the person you snickered at after they tripped hadn’t had time to tie their shoes because they had to get to the hospital while their mom was still breathing?

So smile at that person.

Be patient with that person.

Help that person get up.

And remember that they might be going through more than you think...and you could be the person to make their day. To stop their suicide. To encourage them to never give up. And then the next time you’re down, remember that I’m thinking of you and praying for you...and smiling for you.

© 2009

What is with the spacing in my posts?!

Ok, so, you might have noticed from previous posts that the spacing is being all spazzy and

annoying. Sorry about that. I don't actually know how to make it space normally, but I'm going to try to figure it out. Sorry for the irritating inconvenience.

-Sienna

Devyn part 2

"You want to go to the movies?"

"I don't know, Dev. I think I should get some sleep."

"Awe, come on, Jesse."

"Justin."

"Jusse."

"Justin!"

"Ok. Justin. Come to the movies with me," Devyn said with a grin. I laughed, "Alright, fatty. I'll

come to the movies with you." I walked over to his garage and pulled the door of his dark blue

old Chevy truck open. "Me? Fat?" he said, gaping. I laughed, "Oh, Dev, we all know that the only

reason you want to take me to the movies is so you can pig out on movie theater popcorn with

nasty slime butter and nacho powder." Devyn laughed, "Ok. I won't deny the truth." I smiled as

Devyn closed his car door and started the engine.

"Oh, what shall we see?" Devyn asked, frowning at the list of movies playing. "Well, there's

When in Rome-"

"Too mushy."

"Letters to Juliet-"

"Too gushy."

"Dear John-"

"Too mushy gushy!"

"Eclipse?"

"No, no, no! Too many romances!"

"Eclipse has vampires, too-"

"Yea. Mushy gushy sparkly vampires."

I laughed, "Ok, you win. Let's do something else."

"What? There isn't any guy movies?"

"Um...none."

"WHAT HAS THIS WORLD COME TO?" he screamed, pressing his hand to his forehead

dramatically. I laughed, "Ok. We're going to Barnes and Noble." He was quiet for a minute as he

slowly walked behind me towards his car. "The book store?" he asked questionably after a long

silence. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"I love books! Don't you?"

"Well, ya, I guess, but I wouldn't really think of going there as a da-" he stopped, and my head

snapped to stare at him. "As something to do when you're hanging out with friends," he added

quickly. I sighed. "Well, we're original." He shrugged, "Ok. Off we go then." He started the car

and turned his head to see out the back window, his arm stretched out behind him. His arms

were muscly, but not so much that they were like logs with skin over them, like that guy Philip

at my office. He had sort-of-long, shaggy light brown hair and light blue eyes. His eyes were the

kind girls gaped over in high school, and he was professional at the head-turning hair-flip. Most

people thought me crazy to have turned him down so many times, and to fight still to keep

away his affections for me. But I knew why I did it-Devyn was my best friend. The thing about

all the relationships I had been in, (and most of the relationships I expected to come,) was that

they ended. I didn't want Devyn to just vanish. He was too important to me to risk losing in a

stupid relationship that could end quickly and amount to nothing. Not only that, but there just

wasn't anything there. I didn't...love him. I wasn't in love with him. I wasn't attracted to him in

that way at all. And what's the point of being in a relationship with someone that you don't

love? Practice for marriage or something? I didn't want to lose Devyn over a practice

relationship.

I wouldn't let that happen.

I yawned as my alarm rung. 5:15 it read. I pressed the light blue button, silencing the

irritating buzz emerging from the little clock. I walked to my bathroom, walking into the wall

twice, and washed my face. I walked out of the bathroom and flipped on the light in my closet. I

reached in and pulled out form-fitting jeans and a long sleeve scoop-neck shirt I had gotten as a

Christmas present from my cousin. I walked into the small kitchen in my apartment and pulled

a box of Cheerios from my cabinet. I pulled the fridge open and groaned as I saw no milk. I

walked back into my room, brushed my teeth, grabbed my purse, and closed the door to my

apartment behind me.

"Hey, Bubba." Bubba's second job was at a clothing store right in the center of the mall,

where he constantly sold garments to customers who shouldn't be spending money and didn't

look particularly fabulous in them. "Honey, that looks FABULOUS on you. It brings out the

color in your eyes and contrasts absolutely perfectly with your dark hair. Love it," he said to his

latest non-charitable case. "You really think so?" the girl said, biting her lip and holding back a

smile as she stared at herself posing in the horrific dress in front of the the three-way mirror.

"Oh, defini-" Bubba began, but I cut him off. "Actually, I don't really like it. The pattern doesn't

work with the shape of your face, and though I do agree that it brings out the color in your

eyes, I must add that it doesn't work with your hair color. A red-head, maybe, but a brunette?"

The girl stared at me, wide-eyed, as I wrinkled my nose and said, "Not so much." She opened

her mouth to say something, but I quickly added, "Also, if you'll look out there," I motioned to

the opposite side of the mall, "You'll see an adorable little boutique that will have practically

the exact same dress for half the price with a better pattern and maybe even a better color. And

its not as if it's a knock-off, seeing as that one isn't a brand name." The girl's eyes widened to

the size of golf balls. Bubba glared at me. The girl hurried into the dressing room. Bubba glared

at me some more. She came out of the dressing room, hung up the dress, and said, "You know,

I don't think I can afford this right now." She smiled politely at Bubba and widened her eyes

again at me and then hurriedly rushed out of the store, heading in the direction of the boutique

I had told her about. I turned away from the changing rooms to face Bubba. "So, Bub, how's

business?" Bubba sighed angrily, still glaring at me, and said, "Well it was going just FINE until

YOU got here." I smiled, "Hey, what are friends for?" Bubba groaned and face his computer,

doing some sort of boutique work. "What do you want, Justin?"

"Where's the nearest bakery? I'm in a major hurry, so a really close one, please." I smiled and

blinked my eyelashes innocently. He frowned, "If you weren't so pretty, I would tell you to get

your butt out of my store and go find your own bakery, but unfortunately, this is not the case."

I smiled. "So, walk out this exit and turn to the left, then pass Abercrombie and Forever 21 and

you'll find the best and cheapest bakery in town. Happy?" Bubba couldn't help suppressing a

grin as I stepped behind the counter and kissed his cheek, "Thanks Bub! See ya later!"

"See ya, ya little troublemaker." I turned my head to smile at him as I hurried out of the little

store.

© 2009

Juvy part 8

When it happened, I hadn't thought about...consequences. I'm not sure if I even knew it was illegal. I don't know...it seemed innocent enough.

There was this girl. Penny Jane. Nobody, (and I do mean nobody,) liked Penny Jane. Not even her wimp-of-a-boyfriend James. She was one of those typical back-stabbing, gossiping, boy-stealing girls you can find at every high school. The only thing that separated Penny from every other gossiping girl in the world was this: no one was on her side. Her parents, even, seemed to groan internally every time she got in the car after school, like they wished school hours would double so they wouldn't have to deal with her. Her older brother, Ray, hated her guts and never once in his life told her that he loved her. She had no followers, and every guy she stole only stayed with her for about five minutes. The only reason they even got with her in the first place was fear. That was the other thing about Penny. You could watch anyone, (and I do mean anyone,) and you would soon enough realize that they were scared of her. It wasn't like she was big and brawny. She wasn't physically frightening at all. Frankly, her wimp-of-a-boyfriend James could've killed her with a punch. She just had this air to her...the kind that makes you grab all your belongings and try your best to blend in with the walls so you don't lose your life. It really didn't make sense, seeing as any guys she 'stole' fled back to their original girl as soon as they could escape her; no one ever believed or passed on her gossiping, and even money wasn't on her side, seeing as her dad wouldn't give her money for anything but food, clothes, and her cell phone bill...when she was good. And yet, everyone shriveled up every time she walked by.

Well, after dealing with Penny through most of elementary school, all of middle school, and two and half years of high school, I and quite a few others were just about done with her. We wanted her to realize how insignificant she really was. And so the Penny-scam started. We put love notes in her locker, signing them from her secret admirer. We put flowers on her porch. Chocolates on her desk. We even sent her a holiday gram, which I'm positive she had never received before except from her wimp-of-a-boyfriend James, whom she pretty much forced to send her one. Now, I'm fairly sure that she knew all along that it was a scam. Even she had to be aware that no one, not even her wimp-of-a-boyfriend James, cared about her enough to go so far out of their way as to pick a flower from the schoolyard and stick it in her backpack when she wasn't looking, let alone send her love notes and presents. The problem was, we had no idea that she knew. All along, we thought we had her in the palm of our hand-when really it was the other way around. Maybe that was one of the scary things about Penny-she was clever. Much too clever. And she waited and waited for us to do something drastic enough that she could bust us for it.

I'm not sure how we had planned on ending the Penny-scam. It seemed like all the letters and gifts were a trail down to the big trap we had set up, but I suppose no one ever really told me what the trap was. Or maybe there wasn't one at all. I, of course, was the designated note-dropper and gift-deliverer, seeing as I had all the same classes with her except one, my locker was right next to hers, and my house was three doors down from hers. So when the day came for that 'drastic' thing-the one Penny had been waiting for and the one we had been planning on to really start the action (whatever that action was going to be,) I was sent in. To Penny's house. In the middle of the night. When no one was home...with a note. What the note said, I will never know. It must have been something bad, because I don't think what I did would have quite got me to Juvy if it hadn't said something bad. I had seen Penny come home before her parents plenty of times, so I knew the cliche key hiding place- under the door matt. I walked casually over to the house, took out the key, opened the door, walked towards Penny's room- and screamed. The light turned on in Penny's room and Penny came out, smiling and holding her phone, which was ringing. "P-penn...P-p-Penny! You're h-home! I was just...delivering a note to you- from...someone..." Penny smiled at me as a voice on the phone said, "911, what's your emergency?" I was about to protest frantically when Penny screamed into the reciever and hung up, dropping the phone on the floor. "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?" I yelled. I turned to run outside, but Penny put her arm out in front of me. "You're not going ANYWHERE," she said with an angry expression. "Penny! Please! I didn't-why are you doing this?! I was just delivering a note! I don't even know what it says!" Penny rolled her eyes. "Its from James!" I hollered in her face. She blinked. "Let me see th-"

I ran. "Hey!" she screamed after me. I was too late. Unfortunately, Penny's house was only about five minutes away from the town's police station. I heard Penny laugh as I was handcuffed and put into the back of a cop car.

And that's how I got here.

© 2009

Devyn part 1

I stared at the light. It was blinding me. I sighed, picked up my coke, and

took a huge chug. I burped and the bar tender, my friend Bubba, bluntly

laughed at me. "Honey, you gotta get away from here. That was just nasty," he

said, putting up his hand and waving it around as if to wade off the smell. I

laughed, "Ok, Bubba. I'll see you later."

"You're leaving?!"

"Yup. I'll see ya tomorrow, Bubba."

"Oh, doll face. I'll never be able to cure you," he said with a seriously worried

expression. I laughed and picked up my coat, "Right. Ok. Bye."

I walked away from the bar and into the crowd of people dancing to Flo Rida.

I pushed the side door open swiftly, releasing the music into the night air. A

couple of kids on skateboards nearly ran over my toes as I sighed and stepped

into the frost. Even as I walked from the building, the music rang in my ears. When

it disappeared, I pulled my iPod out of my purse and scrolled to artists, choosing

Flo Rida, just for the occasion. Sighing, I pushed the door open to my apartment

and headed up the stairs because the elevator was broken. I slammed my door

closed and dropped onto my couch. Erik's smiling face appeared in my head and

I moaned as I rolled over so that my face was smushed into a pillow. My cell phone

rang and I laughed as 'Toxic' by Britney Spears played, signaling to me that it was

Devyn calling. I pressed talk, "Devyn," I said with a smile. "You're toxic I'm slipping

under!" Devyn sang. I laughed, "Oh, how I love you."

"I love you too," he said with a smile in his voice. My smile vanished. "So...um,

what's up?" He sighed, knowing what I was thinking. I didn't want him to be in love

with me. "Well," he said, cheering up from whatever good news he had to report,

"I was just sitting in this LOVELY little cafe dishing up ALL the latest juicy gossip."

I laughed at his Bubba voice. "And?"

"And?! AND?! Britney, babe! She's getting a new car!" he said, holding out the 'r'. I

laughed, "Ok. What do you want, Bub?"

"I want you to get over here and say hello to your most favorite person in the whole

world."

"Why would I want to see you?"

"I'm flattered, really I am, but I do believe that I was referring to my little pest of a sister."

"ANNIE!" I screamed.

"JESSE!" Annie screamed.

"DEVYN!" Devyn screamed. I laughed, "I'll be right over!"

"DEVYN?!" I screamed into the big house, my voice echoing off the entryway walls. "I'm

COM-ING!" Devyn sing-songed as he threw open his office door and slid down the

banister, nearly falling backwards about five times. I was doubled-over laughing by the

time he was standing in front of me. He sighed dramatically and said, "Laugh all you want,

but it seems that I'm the one with Annie's homemade chocolate-chip cookies in my

hands." I held out my arms for a hug and said, "Devyn, my love!" He rolled his eyes,

"Suck-up."

"But you still love me!" I laughed as I grabbed a warm cookie off of the paper plate he held.

"Yea, yea, whatever helps you sleep at night," he replied, smiling. I smiled back as I took

a bite of the warm, soft cookie. "JESSE!" Annie yelled as she ran down the stairs in her

ballerina-like way.

Devyn smiled at his sister as she called me by her pet name for me. "Hello, baby. Its

Justin, by the way."

"No, its not." she said, smiling and grabbing one her cookies out of Devyn's hands.

I laughed. Annie wrinkled her nose, "What's with that, anyway? How come your name is

Justin when you're a girl? And how come his is Devyn even though he's a boy?"

"Because they're transgender names, Annie. We've discussed this more than enough times."

Annie laughed, "Devyn, maybe, but Justin? That's just weird." I shrugged, "My parents decided

to be creative, I guess." Annie shook her head, "No, I think they just really wanted two kids

named Justin, but since they couldn't have anymore after you, they named you Justin

that way you could marry some guy named Justin and then all their wildest dreams would

have come true!" I raised an eyebrow and laughed loudly, "Oh, Annie! Where do you

come up with these things?"

"Your parents told me themselves!" she said with a sly smile. "Well, sucks for them,

'cause I'm not marrying someone named Justin."

"How come?" Annie asked innocently, hers eyes slipping to her brother. I blushed,

"Because that would be just weird. I can see it now:

You: JUSTIN?

Me and Justin: WHAT?"

"So?" Annie said with a laugh. "So? So that would be super annoying!" Annie laughed

again, "Whatever you say, Jesse."

"JUSTIN!"

"Oops. My bad, sorry Jesse," she winked and turned to the kitchen, skipping. Devyn

laughed, "Oh, what am I going to do with her?"

"I say the junkyard." He laughed, swung his arm around me, and led me to kitchen.

© 2009

(Inspired by) Smile by Uncle Kracker

He strummed his guitar and the words spilled out of his mouth like syrup. I felt as if my ears were being touched softly with velvet. He looked at me as he sang, "Oh, you make me smile," with just that smile lingering on the side of the mouth. He stopped strumming as he sang, staring at me and holding the microphone with both hands, his expression lively and lovely. I stood up and walked over to him as he finished, his lips curling up to the widest smile I had ever seen. I sat down and took his face in my hands. "I love your smile," I whispered. He laughed and I smiled widely, kissing his cheek. He took my hands off his face and squeezed them as he kissed me.

"You make me smile."

:)

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 41

My phone rang. "Hello?" I asked questioningly. "Um...Tyler?" I furrowed my brow. "Yes?"

"Its...Sadie. Sadie Hawkins?" I sighed and sat down on my bed, "Hi, Sadie." She perked up, "Hi!"

Every time, for three weeks now, the phone would ring, and I would sound surprised, and she

would sound worried and intimidated for a while until she reached her 'happy moment' in which

she would perk up and ask me if I wanted to hang out. I obliged, of course, because I had absolutely

nothing else to do. I waited every day for something...a call, an email, a letter...anything, from Angela.

But every day, nothing came. That day, as I thought about it, (while Sadie was asking me if I wanted

to hang out,) I realized that I hadn't made any call to her either. I had just sat around, waiting for her.

What if she was waiting for me too? "I would love to hang out today, Sadie, sorry, but I've actually

got plans. Maybe some other time?" She was obviously not expecting that reply. "Oh...um...ok. Good.

Cool. See you...later, then." I smiled, "Ya. See ya." I hung up and immediately dialed Angela's number.

I got the busy signal. So I waited a few minutes and then tried again. I got the busy signal again.

I waited again and then called again. As I got the busy signal for the third time, I sighed, annoyed,

and hung up. The phone rang. I grabbed it, "Hello?"

"TYLER?!" Angela's voice hollered in my ear. The largest smile I had worn in three weeks fell upon

my face. "Angela."

"I've been trying to call you for the last twenty minutes and I kept getting the busy signal!"

"Mutual," I replied with a laugh. "What?" she asked in a confused but happy tone, "I've been doing

the same thing," I explained. She laughed.

© 2009

No Sense (anything can happen) part 3

The cossy stopped in front of a large grey building. There were three windows; one for each floor, I guessed. "We're here, ma'am," the driver said politely, hinting for me to leave so he could get back to work. "Yes," I whispered, almost forgetting to push the button. I didn't know what to say now. I was used to saying 'thank you' and departing, but not being able to say thank you made me feel uneasy. "I'll just be going now," I said as I pressed the button. I waited for him to reply, but he said nothing. I opened the door and just as soon as my feet were on the ground, the cossy driver was out the gates again. I almost laughed. I looked up at the large, frightening building and noticed several smaller building surrounding it. I walked forward. I saw someone scurry from one building to another, clothed darkly and huddling themselves as they ran, as if it was freezing and they wanted to stay warm. The person seemed to notice me but didn't dare stay out in the open for too long before they rushed into the other building. I felt like an idiot. What the heck was I doing here? How had I been permitted to be here? Where did I go now? "Its Vanessa, right?" a soft, comforting and yet confident voice behind me said. I swiveled on my heel. No one had called me Vanessa since the day I left my family, them screaming out my name and me kicking like a mad-man, trying desperately to escape the firm grip of the men pulling me away from everything I knew and loved. I looked at the attractive man behind me with a suspicious expression. He was about the same height as me, and his muscles were accentuated by button down shirt he wore. His hair was blond and short, soft-looking, and his eyes were green and huge. He had long eyelashes and a face that was both boy-ish and manly. He smiled at me, and I tried to keep my expression suspicious as his sweet smile sent calm through my veins. 'He just wants me to be calm so he can toy with me, punish me for violating the rules,' I told myself, but it was hard to believe because his face was so soft and he sounded so welcoming and loving. That and the fact that he had addressed me by my name made him a very likeable man. But I kept myself composed. He seemed to notice, with pain, that his soft features and voice hadn't tricked me. "Welcome," he said, his voice like warm milk pouring into a newborn's throat. It sent a chill through me, and yet I still kept my face suspicious. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaky. I cleared my throat quietly. No doubt he had memorized the meaning of a shaky voice. "I'm Noah," he said with a soft smile. I remembered from a long time ago that the name meant peace. It was a calming name. I never felt uncomfortable when I was with a Noah. "Hello Noah. Why do you know my name?" He didn't answer the question. "This morning, you woke up and felt a strange urge to come here, am I correct?" he said calmly, as if it was totally normal that he knew what I was thinking this morning. He didn't trick me. "Yes. How did you know that?"

Once again, he ignored my question. "You are, in fact, not a representative or a caller, but you told a cossy driver that you are one, correct?" 'Ok,' I whispered in my mind, 'so he doesn't know everything I'm thinking. Just vague. "I did," I said, this time refraining from asking how he knew that. "Alright. Then its been assured," he said, frowning slightly, as he wrote something on a notepad. "What's been assured?" He looked up at me, no longer sweet and friendly but frowning. Still, his features hadn't seized to seem comforting, even his irritated expression couldn't cover up his soft face and voice. Even his hair looked soft. I wanted desperately to reach out and see if it was, but I didn't. "So," he said as he started walking toward the large building and signaled for me to follow him, "you have a very strong personality, am I correct?" I blinked, "Um...I guess so..."

"You are very stubborn? Independent?" he asked, looking back at me. I laughed lightly. "Yes," I replied. He opened the doors to the large building and nodded, as if by agreeing with his question/statement I had proven his unspoken theory correct. "What's going on?" I asked, stepping into the building. "Well," he started, finally explaining, "it seems we've made a mistake." He looked up at my face with a furrowed brow, "You're a glitch."

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 40

"So, Tyler where are you from?"

"I lived a few hours away from here by car, but I only lived there for about a year. I lived across the country before that."

"That's cool," she said, still staring at my eyes. "So, I heard you were talking about a girl...Angela?"

"Yea."

"Is she your girlfriend?" she asked persistently, clearly not knowing when to stop. I paused, "...no."

"Oh," she said, almost happily. I felt like punching her, even if she did seem nice. "Well, the way I heard it, it sure sounded like you like her..." she continued. My gosh. Learn some social skills, girl. "I do," I said, attempting to bore a hole in her head with my death glare. She didn't notice. "Oh. So you mean, you like her, but she's not your girlfriend?"

"I love her," I said emotionlessly. It was so true, so incredibly true that I lost my death glare and my frown softened. "Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. The lunch bell rang. She looked up at the bell. I got up and left before she could say anything else. Well, she was nice, except when the topic of Angela came up. Which was Ok, since I really wanted to keep that topic to my self.

"So your boyfriend moved?" Selena asked, licking frosting off of her fingers from a small

cupcake she just devoured in one bite. She pulls her hair out of her thick ponytail and brushes her

fingers through her long recently-dyed-blonde hair, clearly trying to get Paolo's attention. (Paolo

is the new transfer student, and Selena's newest obsession.) I rolled my eyes dramatically and then

rolled my eyes again at how dramatically I just rolled my eyes. "Tyler wasn't my boyfriend." Selena

sighs, also dramatically. "Ok, so he's just the guy you're in love with who loves you back that you

spent every waking second with." I blinked, stared up at the whiteboard, blinked again, and then

looked back at Selena, "Wow. You're blunt." Selena smiled, "Yup!"

I walked out of the classroom and knew that I had to do...something. Anything. It had been three

weeks now, two days away from four, and I was still going through every movement of my day

emotionless, keeping to myself and boxing myself in. I glanced over at Prudence, the girl known as

'that weird emo kid' and felt pity for her. But I didn't want to become her. I couldn't live like this,

secluded, lonely, and just all around...bored-for another year. I just couldn't. So I walked over to my

locker, swung my backpack in, and slammed the door shut. The bell rang and I grinned slightly as I

headed over to the math room without any work.

Mr. Conwell cuts no slack. Ever. Under any circumstances. So, of course, he is the perfect way

to get detention. Not every kid's dream, but useful for me. "Correct your homework on your own

and then we'll take notes," Mr. Conwell said, pushing his glasses back up to his eyes. I leaned back

against my chair and kept the grin off my face. He didn't notice. He began to talk, glancing

back at us occasionally to make sure that we were paying attention. Finally, he noticed me lounging

in my chair, listening intently so that what he said would register into my head but not taking notes

so that I could get that prized detention slip. "Angela. You are doing absolutely nothing," Mr.

Conwell sighed. "Sorry. My stuff's in my locker," I said, wiping the grin off my face with my jacket

sleeve. "Go get it," he said, holding out the hall pass. My eyebrows raised. No way. Mr. Conwell

never let people go to their lockers during class. Ever. Under any circumstances. I walked awkwardly

and nervously up to the front of the classroom. I felt so out of place, so unnatural, as if someone had

a remote control to my life and was forcing everything to go wrong for me. I took the hall pass and

left the room, breathing heavily. I walked over to my locker, stared at it, and kept walking. I walked

into the girl's bathroom and washed my face in the sink. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw

mascara driping down my cheeks, smudged around my eyes. I sighed and tried to fix my makeup to

no prevail. I walked back to the classroom after a few minutes of staring at my makeup smudged

reflection. Mr. Conwell looked up, saw that I was holding nothing, frowned, looked at my face with

an angry expression, and raised his eyebrows. He sighed heavily, "Go. Sit. Try to pay attention." I

sat. But I didn't pay attention. I just came into the classroom after being given the hall pass with

no textbooks, and Mr. Conwell has not given me a detention sleep. I honestly search the room for

someone holding a remote.

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 39

"You're in my seat," a girl with short, light brown hair said impatiently to me. Her hair framed her face just so and her lips were small and naturally pouty. She was very attractive. "This is a lunch table," I said in surprise. "Yea," she started, "my lunch seat." I turned to face her, because I felt uncomfortable having her talk to my back, and she seemed to take in her breath. "H-hi. Hi. Hello. You're-new," she stuttered. I nodded. "You're the sensitive one," she said, smiling slightly. I rolled my eyes. "I'll just get out of your way, then," I muttered angrily. "No! No, that's Ok. I 'll just sit here," she said, sitting across from me. She stared into my eyes, seeming to take them apart in her mind, grasping everything about them. I flipped my hair slightly, a natural tendency. She gasped. Um...creepy? "I'm Tyler," I said, feeling extremely awkward. "Sadie," she said immediately. "Hawkins. Sadie Hawkins." I laughed out loud, "Your name is Sadie Hawkins?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yea. My parents met when my mom asked my dad to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and they thought it would romantic to name me Sadie Hawkins." I laughed, "Is that just your first name?" She nodded. "That sucks."

"Tell me about it." I smiled. She seemed nice. Not exactly anything compared to my last first-day-of-school friend, but she was certainly...nice.

"JAKE! COME DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" my mom yelled in an extremely angry tone. Slightly afraid, I felt like telling Jake to do what she said. "MAKE ME!" he yelled back. My mom sighed angrily and started up the stairs to do just that.

Jake came downstairs. "We have to talk about you kids' behavior," my mother said angrily. Jake rolled his eyes dramatically and I zoned out, staring out the window behind my mom as she lectured us, not hearing a word she said. None of it. The trees moved swiftly with the wind and a bird landed on a branch in front of the window, staring at me. Right into my eyes. "What are you doing here?" the bird seemed to ask me. My eyebrows raised, and my mom, satisfied that she had made her point, (whatever point that had been,) headed into the kitchen. "I'm going out, mom," I said, taking a jacket off the coat rack and keeping my eyes on the bird. "Be back in time for dinner," she sighed, knowing she couldn't stop me. I headed out the door and hurried over to the window sill, but the bird was gone. I was about to keep walking down the street when I saw something under the windowsill. I blinked. "No," I whispered. I backed away. "NO!" There, sitting on the soft dirt, was a baseball. THE baseball. I fell to the ground. Tears didn't come. I stared at the ball. I reached out and picked it up. It was heavy and felt rough. It was a well-used ball. Used by someone who really loved baseball. I threw it back to the ground. I didn't care if it was well-used. It could have been one of Babe Ruth's home-run balls, for all I cared, and I would still have left it there on the dirt.

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 38

And so I became known as the sensitive new kid. Girls fawned over this quality. Guys laughed at my face. So far, everything is going just great.(Sarcasm there.)

Going to school with my mom again felt weird. "Well, it was nice knowing that Tyler boy, I guess," my mom said as I closed the car door and put my backpack on the car floor. I closed my eyes. "Please don't talk about him," I pleaded. She shrugged, "I'm just saying-"

"Well don't." She rolled her eyes and the rest of the drive to school was spent in silence.

"Hey Ang! Where's your boyfriend?"

"Yea, Angela! Did he get sick of you?" I gritted my teeth, slammed my locker closed and turned to face whoever was making remarks at me. Two laughing kids saw my angry expression and turned to face their lockers. I headed up the stairs to Yarber. I felt nothing as I sat in the classroom. I swear. I felt nothing at all. None of the usual sadness, no more sadness from Tyler moving, no anger at my mom or Tyler's parents, no frustration with Jake for breaking my bedpost lamp, (which he had broken that morning.) No exhaustion from staying up until three am the night before staring at the ceiling. I wasn't annoyed that it was a Monday. I wasn't worried about the massive amount of homework Mr. Yarber had written on the white board. I didn't care that Selena was watching me from the the side of her eyes like I had recently tried to kill myself or something. I felt absolutely nothing. It was so strange. I saw people moving around me and felt myself breathing, but faces faded and my breathing grew quiet and unnoticeable. Everything was as it was. Nothing was good, nothing was bad, nothing was in between. Everything simply was. It was an indescribable moment. Then it ended. Anger at my mom, my brother, Tyler's parents, the kids in the hallway, and Mr. Yarber flooded into me like a hurricane that came out of nowhere. Sadness poured in, too, as all the seats were taken except Tyler's and the one that used to be Dustin's. It was as if I had only dreamed that either of them had ever even existed. They were just pleasant characters of my dreams and ceased to exist in the real world. Have you ever felt that perhaps you are in someone else's dream? That maybe, the person will wake up at any moment and you will just disappear?At that moment, I really hoped that the person of which I was in the dream of would get water poured on their head.

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 37

The following week passed by quickly. I went to school, did my work, hurried home, packed, went to bed. Next day, woke up, went to school, hurried home, packed, went to bed. And do it went for the entire week. Then on Saturday everything was finally packed. A single small U-haul truck was loaded with Milly and my beds, my couch, Milly's bean bags, and the boxes of crud we wouldn't give up. Angela and Jake stood on the driveway and waved goodbye sadly. It seemed unreal. I honestly believed that at any moment, I would wake up and find that the moon was still in the sky and my tired mind was playing tricks on me, giving me realistic dreams. It wouldn't be the first time I had a dream that was felt that real. But this time, deep down, I knew it was really happening. I was going to be the new kid all over again. Except this time I wouldn't have an angel as my escort.

I walked into the small, cold, white walled house and looked around. My mother had already moved in her furniture and hung up a few of her paintings. "Milly, yours and Tyler's rooms are past the kitchen-" Milly and I immediately hurried over to the kitchen and identified which room would belong to whom. My room had a door leading outside and Milly's room had a bathroom. I dropped my bag in the room and looked out at the small, square nicely kept grass backyard. No forest anymore. So far, the first of the new houses was just absolutely fabulous. (I'm being sarcastic.)

My mom dropped Milly and I off in front of this high school that was three times the size of our last one. There were no hallways. You had to walk across grass fields to get anywhere. As I walked across the main lawn I felt like my every movement was being measured. I caught my hair brushing against my neck as I looked around for the main office. I felt all my weight fall on my feet as I stepped quickly onto the cement. Water from a murky puddle leaked into my shoes and I quickly stepped into the main office, noticing the cold metal handle of the door. "Hi-" I started. A thin woman with obviously died blonde hair and lipstick the color of fire turned around to face me. She smiled widely, "You must be Tyler." I nodded, taking in the pink shirt and jeans the woman tried to pull off. "That's me," I said, my expression unchanging. "Welcome to our school, Tyler!" I looked up at the strange woman and said nothing. I knew thank you was the polite response, but at that moment all I wanted was to not be there. She seemed slightly thrown off by my failure to respond. "Well-uh- let me...um...get you your...schedule," she said in a worried tone as she searched her crowded desk for my schedule. "Here it is," she said breathily, handing me the paper. She pointed out the office window, "You first class is the one with the purple door." As I opened the office door, I felt the responsibility of saying thank you again. But I said nothing. I just left.

I opened the door, discovering, much to my dismay, that I was a couple minutes late. A cheery-eyed man in jeans and a loose brown and grey striped shirt smiled at me. His eyes lit up under his small, intelligent looking glasses. "You're Tyler," he said, sounding even happier than his eyes looked. I felt in shock. "Yea," I said bluntly. "Welcome!" he said oh-so-cheerily. "We're so happy to have you here!" Clearly. "Where should I sit?" I asked, once again ignoring my duty to say thank you. All the kids stared at me. Quite a few girls smiled flirtatiously at me, but I just leaned back into my seat, crossed my arms in front of my chest, and stared at the happy man in the front of the classroom. "Perhaps a former clown," I pondered in my head as the man introduced me to the class, telling them where I was from. "We have a bit of a tradition around here," he said in his scary-happy tone. I blinked blankly. "We have a bit of an introduction ceremony," he said, almost laughing in glee. I blinked again. Blank. White walls. Staring eyes. Brand name clothes. Strong perfume. I took in everything around me, feeling anger pool in my veins for no apparent reason. "Would you come to the front of the classroom?" The fatal last words. I stood up and made my way to the front of the room. I felt like everyone in the room had caught there breath, thinking perhaps that I may breath fire and burn down the whole school in anger at any given moment. I would have, too, if that was even possible. "Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?" the clown asked. "No," I wanted to say, "I would like to go back to where I came from and walk with Angela to English. I would like to write down the homework while Mr. Yarber lectures us on being on time." I said nothing. "Tell us your relationship status," he began, "WHAT?!" I hollered in my head. "tell us a little bit about any siblings of family members you have, and perhaps a little bit about what you like to do." I rolled my eyes. "I'm single. I have one sister named Milly. I like to..." I stopped. What did I like to do? "I like to walk with Angela. I like to hear her voice and see her smile and feel her hands. I like to see a rare glimpse of nothing but happiness in her eyes." CRUD. I just said that aloud. Why couldn't I have said that part about wanting to be at my old school out loud?

© 2009

Me and Julian part 3

"You're late, Laura."

"Yea, sorry. Julian's car wouldn't start again. I swear, he tried everything! Finally I volunteered to give it a try, and it finally turned on. It was so funny, he was like, 'I swear this car hates me.' So I drove, but then I got pulled over because for some reason a police officer thought I was on the phone and said I wasn't allowed to use my cell phone while I was driving. It was so strange, it was as if he couldn't even see Julian sitting there. I told him that I hadn't been on the phone and in fact had only been talking to the person sitting next to me. I apologized for driving with another teenager in the car, which I knew was illegal. He just gave me a weird look and offered to give me a ride to school. I told him I was fine, but he insisted on driving me. I think he even wrote down my license plate number when I was leaving. But he wrote me a note...here." Mrs. Johnson sighed and took the note from my hands, not even bothering to read it. "Sit," she said impatiently. I sat in my seat and Julian sat in his seat behind me. He stuck his pencil in my hair and started playing with it. "Stop, Jules. I'm trying to take notes," I whispered to him. Jeff glanced over at me and looked back at the white board.

Laura walked past me in the lunchroom, smiling. She laughed at something Julian 'said' and sat down at an empty table with him. All alone, she sat there, laughing her head off and trying to stuff food into the mouth of a person who wasn't there. I wondered if she realized what a show she was to some of the guys in the cafeteria. Especially new kids. Laura is a very attractive girl. Her hair is dark blonde, short, and curls around her face just so. She has beautiful eyes the color of the ocean during a storm. If you look closely, I swear you can even see the whitecaps. Its a shame that she's crazy.

© 2009

Songwriting: Remembering You and Me lyrics

When you walk past the place where we had our first date,

and the song your iPod changes to ours, are you filled with pain,

does your sadness gain a point, baby,

'Cause frankly...

Chorus

When you think of me, does it make you feel sad?

'Cause frankly, it makes me feel glad

That there was ever you and me, the perfect combination,

(Temporarily, at least)

Remembering you and me

When I walk past you in the hallway, does something

change in a small way, inside you, under you skin?

Does your heartbeat quicken, does your head start to ache?

Does it bring back your stomachache?

Does it make the pain come around once again,

Yea baby...

Chorus

So wipe up your tears, take the frown off your face,

remember the good times, recall the place, where I tripped

on my shoelace and fell in your arms, laughing, and comforted by your warmth...

When you think of me, does it make you feel sad?

'Cause frankly, it makes me feel glad

That there was ever you and me, the perfect combination,

(Temporarily, at least)

Remembering you and me...baby...remembering you...and...me.

© 2009

p.s. This song is not based off of past experience...it just came to me and I liked it.

Me and Julian part 2

"Morning Jamie," Laura said with a smile as she walked in. "Morning Laura," I said, smiling at her and continuing to pour cereal into two bowls. Laura sat down and cleared her throat quietly. I closed my eyes. "Morning Julian," I said as I smiled at the empty chair next to Laura. "She does too like you, Julian. She's probably just tired," Laura whispered to the air. I handed a bowl of cereal to Laura and was about to sit next to her when she screamed. "Sorry!" I shrieked, quickly stepping away from the chair. "Could you pour a bowl for Julian, too?" she asked. "Can't he pour his own?" I groaned. She glared at me. "Fine," I mumbled, wasting yet another bowl of cereal as I pushed the bowl towards the empty chair. "Julian, eat it. You are so NOT allergic to nuts," Laura said as she rolled her eyes and took a few bites of her cereal. I didn't want to know what was going to happen to that cereal, so I left the room. Justin and Jackson were sitting on the couch playing a video game. Annoyed, I went up to my room to watch TV on my tiny screen. There was a knock on my door. I paused the show and sat up. "Come in," I hollered unnecessarily. Laura walked in. "Hey. Julian's still downstairs. He thinks you really don't like him. I tried to tell him you do, but he just said whatever. Could you go downstairs and apologize to him?"

"For what?" I asked in an irritated tone as I stared at Sophie's face paused mid-sentence on the tiny screen. "Jamie. Please." I groaned, pulled myself off the bed, and walked down the stairs with Laura. I walked up to the empty kitchen and said, "I'm sorry for whatever I did. I do like you. Are we good?" I didn't wait for a response, (obviously,) before I said "Good. See ya later," and headed back up to my room. Of course I love and pity Laura, but Julian really gets on my nerves.

© 2009

Me and Julian part 1

Introduction

Julian took my hand firmly and we ran through the trees. I laughed as he took my hands and we spun around in circles. We came to a clearing and dropped down onto the wet grass, soaking from the rain pounding on us. Julian turned his head toward me, "This isn't very healthy, you know," he said with a grin. I shrugged as I attempted to look up. Water filled my eyes. "Who cares!" I said with a laugh as I turned to face him again. He smiled softly and said, "I love you." I smiled widely back, "I love you too."

"LAURA! LAURA?! LAURA WHERE ARE YOU?!" we screamed as we ran through the forest, trying desperately to find her. Finally, I stepped into a clearing and spotted Laura laying there, letting the rain hit her. "I love you too," she said with a bright smile. She was alone. But she didn't know that.

Chapter 1: At First

At first he was only there because I wanted him to be there. He kept me company when everyone else left the room. He kept my mind from wandering to the past. But then as they left me alone more and more, he became more important to me. He had to be there. They smiled at me when I told them Julian was moving in with us. Some of them laughed lightly. But their smiles grew sad when Julian actually moved in. I don't think they like him.

At first it was just her imaginary friend. Sure it was weird that she had one at seventeen, but we figured it was just a joke and she only talked to him in front of us to make us laugh. Then it started getting old. She told us that he was moving in with us. I rolled my eyes but the rest of the family smiled or laughed lightly, trying to hint that it wasn't really funny anymore. But she wasn't trying to be funny. And as I walked past her bedroom, I heard her talking to him. It was like she thought he was really there. Turns out she did.

© 2009

No Sense (anything can happen) part 2

The lights turned off and the House went silent. No rebels whispering. No one hurrying back to their room from the bathroom. No one in the kitchen grabbing a midnight snack. No one spending the night in someone else's room. Just silence and darkness. For most, this was a good environment for sleeping.

For most, a world with no crime, sickness, or arguing sounds fabulous.

Not for me.

I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling, but the room got no darker when I closed my eyes. I wanted to get up and walk down to the kitchen, ring the bell and wait for a server to get out of bed to get me a snack. Talk to the server for a while. But there were many reasons I couldn't do that. First of all, I couldn't get up. Literally. To keep rebels from being rebels, the Inventors had created jings, which are basically just soft handcuffs that connect to your bed. They keep you there until the morning, and then they release you. Second, the servers did not sleep in the same building as the upper-class men. Everyone in the lower class slept in the working quarters, which is basically the same as the House except less nice. Third of all, talking to servers is not permitted. When I said "Thank you," to a cossy driver earlier, I had been totally breaking the rules. He could have reported me, but of course, who would report someone for being nice to them? Being kind to the lower class was the only rule you could break without getting caught or hurt. But most didn't try. Most people didn't want to be polite to the lower class. They didn't realize that they could have been in the lower class just as easily if they had been born with a slightly less strong immune system.

"Where to, miss?" I closed my eyes and blocked the sound of the alarm system from my brain. "The working quarters," I said before I realized what I had said. The man driving the cossy sounded surprised as he said, "Only lower-class men can go there, miss." I nodded my head and briskly lied. "I was sent by a Watcher. Its inside business that I'm afraid I can not share with you," I said in an official tone. He sounded in shock as he said, "We will arrive at the working quarters in fifteen minutes, at most." My eyebrows raised. I didn't know the working quarters were so far from the House. "Good," I said as I pressed the button to send a message to the front. I almost pressed it again to say thank you, but then I remembered that representatives of Watchers would absolutely NEVER break a rule, even a simple rule like this one. I looked out the window in the contept and watched as we drove through the town. A few people were walking along the roads. Cossies drove up and down the roads, stopping to pick up and drop off people. People walked out of the bank with their daily payment, walked out of grocery stores with extra food they wanted to keep in their rooms for the day, and people walked into and out of entertainment complexes. The hospital was quiet. Not one cossy stopped by it as we drove past. Eventually, we took a turn down a long street with nothing on it. Nothing at all. At the end of the street there was a large black gate that said "Lower Class Only". The cossy driver stuck his hand out of the car and pressed his thumb on the scanner. He pulled up so that I too, could scan my thumb, but I reminded him that I was a representative and not an actual lower class man. He reminded ME that there was a thumb scanner for representatives, too. I closed my eyes. I determined whether to get out and run or just tell the cossy driver the truth. Cossy drivers rarely ever turned anyone in for anything. It didn't matter to them. Instead I just put my thumb to the scanner. To my surprise, the screen did not flash red and scream "Access Denied". Instead it faded to green and the large black gates opened. My eyes widened. But wait a minute. I wasn't a representative. Was I?

© 2009

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 36

I looked out the window and saw the trees being thrust about by the wind. I smiled and hurried out of the hallway, locking the chest and closing the doors behind me. "I'm going outside!" I called to Jake. "Yea, whatever," he responded. I threw open the front door and realized I didn't have a sweater. I hurried over to the coat closet and got out a warm but light sweater. I walked outside and closed the front door. I felt the wind on my face and breathed in the scent of the forest of fir and pine trees across the street and the few smaller trees on the residential side. The wind bit at my skin but it felt good. I listened fondly to the whistling and the sounds of leaves rushing by and gusts of air sending messages from desperate people far away. I walked quickly across the barren street and stepped into the forest. I avoided the obviously marked trail that led to the part of the creek with a bench and simply made my way through the deep brush to the more thrilling parts of the stream. Finally, I crossed the stream and walked deeper and deeper into the thick darkness of the trees that beckoned me with such force that I had no choice to go on. The wind had changed its direction and was now teaming up with the trees to push me father and farther into the beautiful darkness. I remembered being young and so scared of going anywhere off the trail at all in this forest. Dustin had run away from me, deep into the woods for a child, laughing and forcing me to follow her since I was the responsible one. The memory made my eyes water but also forced a smile onto my face. Eventually, I found a meadow with soft grass and, exhausted from the walk, dropped into the weeds, breathing heavily and laughing. Nature is the best medicine.

© 2009