Leaves

Hello there, Lovelies! My novelette got published online on Teen Ink! I would greatly appreciate it if you checked it out then rated it 5 stars. The highest rated novels get on the Top Voted list, which means more publicity. Please check it out here: Leaves Thank you so much for all your love and support!
Warning- the link may not work on all mobile devices.

Another List

Unfortunately, I have recently rediscovered writer's block. Though I have ignored writing a blog post for some time because of that wretched beast, I have decided that today was the day to put something up. There is no schedule for my creativity- I hate forcing an idea out of my brain for the sake of keeping to a schedule so I have decided to do one of the things I do best when being engulfed in writer's block. I write lists. Without further ado, here is twenty-five things that my friends may or may not know about me:

1. I am a nerdfighter. 
2. When I grow up, I want to be a middle school English teacher.
3. When I was little I wanted to be a cartographer. 
4. My favorite athletes are Rebecca Soni and Missy Franklin.
5. I do the things I do to impress myself, almost never to impress others.
6. I want to learn how to play the ukulele. 
7. As of late I seem to be more in love with the general idea of love than in love with any one person.
8. I have a nerdy fangirl crush on Andrew Garfield.
9. My favorite color is emerald green.
10. I am somewhat of an introvert.
11. My three favorite words to use in my writing are exultant, opulent, and plethora. 
12. Sometimes I correct people in my head when they use incorrect grammar.
13. My favorite books are Heartbeat by Sharon Creech, The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall, and The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne.
14. My favorite ice cream flavor is moosetracks.
15. I choose not to curse because I have come to the realization that those who do sound like lamebrains.
16. A pet peeve of mine is when people my own age are rude to adults.
17. I am afraid of dying (who isn't), hurting people, spiders, and growing up too quickly.
18. I love swim meets but I'm not crazy about swim practices, especially those that include breath control.

Because of a Butterfly

      On this occasion, much like others in the past, I have wondered what made man want to keep reaching new heights in architecture. Was it after the discovery that human beings cannot reach new heights by flight? Of course, we reached those heights once the airplane was invented, but I am talking about the discovery that man could not soar using man-made wing-like contraptions (much to the disappointment of Leonardo Da Vinci). After that startling wake-up call, buildings kept getting taller and taller. They started building skyscrapers that touched the clouds so wonderfully it brought mankind to the once unspeakable thought that perhaps anything is possible.
     Sometimes I wonder if it was all because a child with a kite and a dream of soaring with the birds found out that his vision was unreachable. Maybe another child caught a butterfly and his mother yelled at him to let it go. Maybe, just maybe, that innocent face's mother yelled all the time and all he wanted, even though he was offered so many material items, was to be like that butterfly. He just wanted to be set free. Perhaps the child who wished to fly and the child who wished to feel freedom stream across his face like rays of sunshine became the men who started the never-ending competition of "who can build it taller?".
     Truthfully, my imagination is floating around the timeline of history when it comes to my thoughts on who started it all in the beginning. Well, whoever they were, they both had a dream. Most likely my story is only partially correct in that the men had broken childhoods, for everyone builds from the bottom up even in life, if you know what I mean. To think though, that whoever they were, that they were the architectural innovators that inspired the innovators of today is astounding. In the long run, they reached new heights and paved the way for others to do so as well. Through those others, their dreams continue to come true.

A Letter

To Whom-ever-this-may-concern,  
     There is nothing more horrifically painful emotionally than that of feeling alone. It is a curious thing, to feel that way, for in truth you are not by your lonesome in space. There are other human beings on our planet with hearts that beat and lungs that fill up with air. They are just living their lives in this time period known as existence; however, the feeling of being alone is also in existence, drifting around like a balloon caught in a wind current. Some people tend to feel lonely because they are sucked into a deep, dark, abyss-like pit of fear that no one understands them- that no wants to be their friend. In truth, there is someone out there that will gladly accept you, but it is up to you to try to find that person, that friend. Yes, that means that you may have to use the big "C" word, "courage". It is awfully scary, but just imagine the jubilation that will fill up your entire body after you show the world how powerful and how brave you are.
     Some people feel so alone that they feel as if they need a romantic partner at their hip. They build on top of the nonexistent perception they have of perfection. Perhaps, you are one of those people. Maybe you believe that in order to fill your deep, dark, abyss-like pit of unhappiness, you must have a relationship with someone...anyone. Some people replace their emptiness with someone they do not necessarily find attractive or have no similarities with just to have, say, a date to the eighth grade formal. Either way, their loneliness may escape their minds completely when they have that one person or it might stick around, hanging over their heads like a smoky gray rain cloud.
     On the other hand, there is one more thing I must discuss: loneliness may be based on point of view. Sometimes, the peace and quiet of solitude is pleasant but there are people who are critical of that. It is like in the song "Stronger" by Kelly Clarkson in which the line is "Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone". Many chose to view people who like to spend a lot of time alone, such as a few introverts, as people who are lonely, when it fact, they are not. Perhaps, this is the way you feel. Maybe it is not loneliness that you are experiencing but the need to express your confusing emotions as "loneliness" for fear that others may not think highly of you for wanting to spend a day with yourself. "Loneliness" may be the one word answer that you have to force to choke up in order to feel somewhat respected.

The Endless Heartbeat

     Time itself is measured from the smallest fraction of a second to the endless period known as existence. There are a plethora of people out there much like myself who chose to measure time in moments. The day goes on as it always does, but instead of the monotonous "it took her 5 minutes to get back to the classroom", we think of it as, "by the time she got back, we laughed until our sides hurt, we joked about something absolutely irrelevant, and everyone was smiling white, toothy grins". Time is a funny thing that way. There are good moments, but there are also bad moments. People who measure time as I do tend to try to forget the less intriguing moments. They block them from their memories as if that moment in time was just an unnoticeable tear in their stockings. On the other hand, I consider myself one of the people who measure time in moments, but I have a different approach when it comes to the bad memories. Unlike some, I tend to remember bad memories for a long time. In fact, some of those bad moments have carried on to what I suppose will end up being remembered for the all of existence. My existence, I guess. Rather, I do exaggerate these subjects often.

     There are also frustrating things about time. One evident thing is that there never seems to be enough. Life would be so much more enjoyable if time slowed down, letting us catch up to it before it disappears to the other side of the hill. Imagine if generations could live exultant lives filled with a different kind of opulence. Then again, time can be one of those few beautiful things. It is like a heartbeat. Time goes in a steady pace and never stops. Of course, there are awful moments in time such as when a heart stops beating. One day, time's own heartbeat will stop, and I hope that before that day comes, people will stop hating each other so much. That is another frustration involving time. Human beings go on living their lives as if they have all the time in the world. They forget that each moment in time is important in its own way, shape, or form, so they abuse it by showing disgust towards other living creatures. Since I know that to be true, hatred must be the ultimate enemy of time. Perhaps, the heartbeat of time  will stop with an abundance of hate and frustration after all.
     I like to believe that time will never stop. Maybe I chose to believe this because of my fear of the unknown, or rather it is for the sake of not wanting it to stop. I like to believe that when this minuscule planet called Earth is no longer in the time period known as existence, another period of time called "forever" will still have a heartbeat. It's truly a remarkable thought; however, "forever" might just be a fake word created by another human being who is afraid. (If you do not understand the "fake word" reference, I wrote of fake words in my post entitled Perfection is a Myth Pt. 2.) Whether you wish to think about it or dream about it, I still like to hold to my belief that when our blue planet is no longer in existence, there will still be the stars and other galaxies- including those that we have not yet discovered or that we will never discover. If they are there, the time period of existence must still have a heartbeat, and surrounding existence must be the infinite time period of forever. For if Earth is not there, but other things still continue to exist in space, time would be just a foolish thought if it did not go on to the endless heartbeat called "forever".

The Understudy: Chapter 1

(Click here to read the Prologue before this chapter.)

Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him. ~Louis L'Amour

Senna Thorne awoke to a force pressing on her chest in a steady beat. One, two, three. A deep voice was becoming clearer above her, yelling, “She’s opening her eyes!” With a deep breath, her lungs gasped at the sudden air that filled them. Her heart fluttered a bit as she regained consciousness. A lifeguard was at her side, with an iPhone in hand. She heard the young man asking for a phone number, someone he could call to pick her up. Senna tried to remember what happened before she was laying on slippery tiles that smelled like chlorine, but it hurt her heart to try. She just stood up as if the water that she had an unmistakable passion for did not try to end her life. The lifeguard was screaming after her, but Senna could not speak, instead she casually walked to the bleachers, arranged her stuff, put on her matching blue swim team sweat pants and jacket, then walked right out the door.

Even though the air was thick and tasted like winter, Senna felt absolutely nothing. Her breath did not mimic the appearance of smoke in the cold. Instead, her body was filled with warmth, as if she were a living fireplace. It was calming, but at the same time, made her feel weaker. Suddenly, an imperfection in the sidewalk caused her to slide on a piece of ice and fall onto her back. The ache she felt was worse than the pain she had experienced in the pool, for this was physically draining. While Senna attempted to stand once more, the wind whipped around her tauntingly. It whispered things that made her head want to explode. “Give up. “ It whispered in high-pitched, mocking voices. “You are not good enough!” Tears fell down her face as the wind’s laughter increased in volume, its voices seemed more real, more fierce. It was as if a nightmare had become reality. Senna’s whole body was filled with such anger towards the wind; it was an adrenaline rush fuelled by insanity. She sprung off the ground and screamed as loud as her madness could take her. Her eyes began to twitch, and the ground began to move as if an Earthquake was about to erupt. It hurt every ounce of her being, but the winds were getting louder in their shrieks, and the snow began to melt into the watery snakes that hissed. They only added to the utter turmoil. The sidewalk began to shatter like a window. Senna’s fists were clenched as if it could make it less painful, but it was to no degree helpful. The snow fell on her as the indescribable pain made her curl into a tight ball with her arms around her knees, the earth cracked around her, and she began to slip off to a dark place once more.