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