10 things people couldn't guess just looking at you:

1. I raise sheep
2. I live in Brazil
3. I don't smoke weed, but I got a liver disease
4. I travel a lot sort of
5. I eat tofu, and my heart is leaky
6. I listen to good music
7. I write bad poetry
8. I'm restless but I get good grades
9. I have a mini crush on Jeffery Star...yeah
10. I drink my milk

9 things you want to do before you die:

1. Finish college
2. Move to Brazil
3. Move to Africa
4. Move to India
5. Move to Mongolia
6. Write a novel
7. Ride a horse
8. Marry eventually

8 things you say everyday:

1. no you!
2. fo realzies
3. hella
4. poppycock!
5. pish posh
6. I could destroy you if I wanted to
7. Thats what she said.
8. Don't tell me how to live my life!

7 things you hate:

1. horses
2. people who use the word "scandalous"
3. brushing my hair
4. Onions.
5. My parent's house
6. standing in lines
7. leaky hearts

6 things you love:

1. Music
2. Argyle
3. apples
4. Capitan Planet
5. Kory
6. The sea

5 people you look up to:

1. Aaron
2. Woodrow Wilson
3. Virginia
4. Leonard
5. and Lou Reed

4 places you want to visit:

1. Mexico
2. Australia
3. Russia
4. Italy

3 things you could do without:

1. Cigarettes
2. Eating
3. Standing still

2 things you never want to do:

1. go deaf
2. unravel

1 person who has changed your life:

1. n/a

Non-Fiction:

My Dad's girlfriend sent me a message via facebook:

Not sure what to say to someone that you've never met. I hear alot about you. Maybe I should explain. I am dating your dad and he doesn't know I'm doing this. I remember last year when you sent him a friends request on his facebook and nothing more happened with that. I felt really bad and am really upset with myself for letting that opportunity pass. You were taking the first steps and he just ignored it. He doesn't know that I am contacting you and it will stay that way. So, now i'm just hoping it's not to late to get to know you a little bit.

what is this??

it's a trap...right?
he's tricking me again....right?

No, seriously, I'm asking you, what the fuck?

oh, and while I'm asking questions, I have another one...

To Squeegee? Or not to Squeegee?

argh!

(I finished my history essay)
yay for me

He shakes his head from side to side.
I didn't know how the world would end.
With pretty music.
With smoke and mirrors.
I dig my nails into the denim of his jeans.
until the overcast goes away.
He was always far too pretty for me to believe in a single word he said.
I walk out with only bloody knuckles.

This
thing
Hurts.
Like.
Hell.

Non-Fiction:

Carson was already drunk by the time I arrived. He spends most of the night hugging me hard and asking, repeatedly, what my middle name is. I tug on my tights and watch them like a wallflower. I am not here so much because I enjoy the company--not that I don't enjoy it, but mostly I am here because I don't want to be home alone digging my teeth into my knees. I have been trying to avoid free time as much as possible.

We sing songs and play music, I would have never known that you suck was about Iain if someone hadn't screamed COCK FERNANDO into my ears.

When we get to the party music is blaring from an ipod, I don't mind it really, but music will never be as good to me as it is on a cassette tape or record. CD's and mp3's just don't do it for a girl like me, and especially tonight, I am not feeling it. So I leave the garage and crawl into a space in the couch between two Ligmans and watch Olympic curving, while Jake naturally attracts most of the people with his wit and political discussion.

I have no idea why Rob has suddenly taken an interest in me, and has called me to be here tonight...yes I do. And few of the girls here don't seem too happy with my presence. It makes me wonder.
He gets into a fight with a nameless, faceless boy in the party. I distract them by playing harmonica, and giving them both too much vodka.

I take Jake home with me after too many drinks and too many boys trying to take my hands in theirs and pretend they just want to warm them.

Poor Jake spends most of the next day laying in my bed and feeling nauseous. All in all, it was an okay night, if I had applied myself more it would have been better.

When I was nine I tried to hold my breath underwater as long as I could.
When I came up for air, my goggles were full of blood, and I had a horrible head rush.

This is the same.

in case you wanted to know where I will be,

It will be on the floor, listening to this, for the next several hours.

I hope the worst is'nt over
I hope you blink before I do
and I hope I never get sober

I got up at six thirty, it is my first day for math.

I have decided to sacrifice my Saturday morning at the alter of higher education.

My alarm started screaming at me and I got up to find my nicotine patch stuck in my hair. My truck won't start. This is not going to be a good day. When I get to class my name is not on the role sheet. I print out a detailed schedule and give it to my teacher as proof I belong here. She says not without her permission. Obviously. But she seems to believe me, which she should, because I am registered in the class and have a schedule with a CRN number to erase any doubts in her mind. After we are dismissed an older, well, a mid-thirties-ish man comes up to me to tell me about how much it bothers him that "people like me" get into Saturday classes, surely he deserves it more, because he works forty hours a week, he reminds me twice. I am shocked an a little confused. What on earth would he possibly want me to do about it? I don't teach algebra. He tells me that he personally blames me for him not getting into the class. I told him I didn't crash it.

He scoffs at me.

"Sure" he says, "You just somehow weren't on the role sheet, but you registered. Yeah right, You're pathetic."

I want to punch this guys teeth out. I'm almost glad, he didn't get into the class.

Okay, okay, I am glad a little.

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow, and I hope it bleeds all day long.

I've got to cleanse myself of all these lies that I'm good enough for him.

Although, piano is going inexplicably well.

however, I just heard the song hey there Delilah,

and a voice popped into my head:
"No one will ever love you like that."

it's not real, it's just a stupid song.

but I still sobbed my eyes out.

I miss Kory.

I never want to do anything
I never want to go anywhere
I never hang out
But I try.

She sent me a message,
Aren't you excited about school?
Yeah. Excited. Sure.
Are you okay?
I think for second. This has been a frequently asked question lately.
I go to respond.

she is offline.

I think I've gotten boring.
I need a new friend.

He screamed for me. In that moment all I could do was watch the trees in front of me helplessly. My mind was blank with horror. I called back for him but my voice only seemed to reach my throat and failed to explode out of my mouth. I felt like I was screaming. My voice didn’t respond. I tried repeatedly to call for him. I started running as fast as I could toward where I believed his voice was coming from. I couldn’t see where I was going, the trees looked like brushstrokes through my tears. I stopped and stood completely still where I was and I heard him again, he called for me. The voice seemed to come from every possible direction. I lifted my hands to my head, ripping out a few locks of hair in frustration. I could hear a terrifying shriek. It sounded like an animal being tortured and burned, it got louder with each passing second. Then silence. I was lost completely, in this endless maze of green leaves and slippery moss. Lost, and suffocating in this forest, my own personal hell.

“Where are you!” I cried out, so loudly that the sound hurt my own ears. I tried to wipe my eyes and get a hold of my mind; maybe if I could think straight for one second I could help him, but it was hopeless. In the dull moonlight I exploded, or so it felt. Agony ripped through me like a chainsaw, burying itself and twisting into my heart, stabbing, throbbing.
“Where are you?” I whispered slowly. The terrible animal sound started again, scaring me, and I realized it was my own sobbing I was hearing making the awful noise. I collapsed then, falling to the cold wet ground, but to my severe disappointment I didn’t lose my consciousness. The unbearable pain ripping inside my chest was now spreading to all of my organs, making my soul bleed. I cried and thought I might actually die from the heartbreak. I sobbed and shivered my body aching, I did not resurface.

Fiction:

I awoke with a start, screaming at the top of my lungs. I sat up and it took me a few minutes to realize that I was just having a dream, it took me several more to stop hyperventilating. I looked at the clock on my nightstand, the glowing green numbers told me it was just three seventeen in the morning, on September eighth. I buried my head in my pillow and sighed deeply. I was calm but still very uneasy, falling asleep again was out of the question and only four more hours until school. Great, I thought jumping out of my bed. I walked over to my desk and turned on my lamp, my bare feet felt cold against the wooden floor. I glanced around my not-so-neat, almost messy room. My eyes scanned over my bed, my bedside table, my dresser, which was piled high with dirty clothes, CDs, and a few framed pictures. I studied the black and green curtains hanging from my huge window, my brother had picked them out when this had been our room, a few years before we decided we were old enough to separate and for him to move into the room that used to be my father’s study. My eyes stopped at the long mirror that hung on my closet door. With a red permanent marker,( though I hadn’t known that when I wrote it) were my favorite words, by William Shakespeare.
‘These violent delights have violent ends, And in there triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume,”-Romeo And Juliet Act II, Scene VI, I read the words out loud to myself twice, and stared at my reflection for a moment. I tried unsuccessfully to comb my fingers through my tangled hair. It was still a strange dark brown color full of darker blood-red streaks from when I tried to dye it myself about a month ago, but my hair was too dark to allow the cover up. Tears lingered on my pale cheeks and my face was shinny from the cold sweat I had awoken in. I decided since I was awake I might as well shower, I looked like hell.
Once I was showered it was still so early I took the time to blow dry my long thick hair until it was almost straight, hoping I didn’t wake the boys. I dressed and sat back on my bed and opened my chemistry book, reluctantly I started studying it. When I heard my fathers alarm go off I glanced at my clock, four. I never understood why he insisted on waking up so early, he didn’t even have to be at his firm until seven. I wanted to make him breakfast and slammed my chemistry book shut, grateful for an excuse not to keep it open. I closed my door quietly and skipped down the steps two at a time. I started rummaging through the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs, and milk. When I closed the door someone was standing behind it.
“Oh!” I gasped and nearly dropped the food I was holding.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” The caramel-haired beauty explained. “I didn’t realize you were awake.” I stared in wonder at the woman not twelve years older than I was, Vanessa Wentworth stood inches away from me.
“Um, it’s okay.” I replied still trying to wash the shock from my face. I stumbled a little toward the sink and started washing a pan to cook the eggs with.
“Maybe we should talk.” Vanessa suggested in calm voice. A look of concern flooded her pretty face.
“No, really it’s fine, I’m fine.” I lied. I still had not gotten used to her. I saw her leave our house at odd hours of the night, and once every couple of weeks I ran into her like this. She had been dating my father, ever since four months ago when my mother moved out, they had been more open to my brother and I about their relationship. She was my fathers’ employee, secretary I think. I’m sure she played a much bigger role in my parents divorce than she imagined. Not that it was her fault, she didn’t know when she was sleeping with her very married boss that he even had a wife or children. The fact that after she discovered this and stayed with him, demanding that he choose my mother or her, shocked me completely. She had threatened him, telling him to tell my mother or she would. I remember overhearing the phone conversation in my father’s office late one night, when he thought my brother and I were sleeping we snuck in the hallway and listened. After that night my brother gave him similar threats. When he did tell my mother, they locked themselves in their room for hours and hours speaking in low voices so that my brother and I could not hear them. And then she was gone, and in her place, this girl. I looked at Vanessa, her almond-shaped eyes and thin frame, her shoulder length hair fell in loose curls around her heart-shaped face. I watched her speculatively, as she moved around my kitchen with familiarity. Helping me grease the pan for pound cake. She looked like a model even now, wearing my father’s robe, no make-up, stirring eggs for scrambling. I understood where my father was thinking from when he did choose Vanessa. My mother had been unhappy in this little town for years, she wanted to move back to Manhattan. My mother hated it here ever since my father was made partner and we had to move five years ago. I was fourteen, but I remember her clearly, sitting in our new house, unpacked cardboard boxes around us. “I’m going to die here, in this town Leonard.” She had told my father in her calm voice. I knew she was going to leave him soon anyway, she was just waiting for my father to give her an excuse, and he did.
“Are you sure?” Vanessa asked wearily, disrupting my thoughts. This is something my mother never would have done, invite me into her personal life, my mother would have slammed the door in my face if I had knocked at an opportunity to discuss how she and my father were getting along. I wouldn’t have anyway, I knew it would be hopeless to try. As though she could hear my thoughts, she smiled at me apologetically. My dad came down the stairs, my heart started pounding, with each squeaky wooden step it started beating harder. He looked alarmed to see me, and then relieved. I’m sure he was glad he wouldn’t have to explain being home so late last night.
“Good morning Honey,” he said to me and then walk towards me and quickly kissed me on the forehead.
“You’re up early,” He noted and I wondered if that disappointed him. He knew I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I mostly tried to stay in bed , lying awake for hours, to keep him from worrying so much. He was always so worried for me.
“I fell asleep early,” I lied.
“Oh good, school takes a lot out of you,” he responded but his face looked uncertain. He knew I knew, he called my bluff. He walked over to Vanessa and spoke to her in a voice too low for me to hear. Vanessa just smiled and slightly nodded. Leonard asked me a few questions about school as Vanessa and I made breakfast. I answered and smiled as though school was the best thing in the world, my father grinned at my fake cheerfulness. He subconsciously placed his hand on the small of Vanessa’s back. I tried not to let that bother me. I didn’t look at him while we ate an awkward breakfast. I wished my brother would wake up and come down stairs and help me out, he could defuse any uncomfortable situation. My father looked at Vanessa with adoration, I could never remember my parents looking at each other like that, but Vanessa and Leonard; they were right for each other. That made my stomach turn and I lost my appetite. I pushed my plate away from me.
“Not hungry?” Leonard said.
“Not really, Dad.” I answered. I started boiling water for tea, and asked Vanessa if she would like some.
“What kind?” She asked, as if she didn’t know what was in the cupboard by heart.
“Mint,” I said. “or we also have ginger, either one.” I responded as politely as I could and hoped she didn’t notice how high my voice was.
“Oh, mint would be lovely thank you.” She answered sweetly and smiled at me again. It was hard not to like Vanessa, but I still felt hot with betrayal and anger when I thought of her. She was what twenty-seven? Maybe younger? I hadn’t asked my father, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. I knew she was young enough to be his daughter, how young is that? I wanted to ask Aaron what he thought. Surely my brother would have the answers to the questions I wouldn’t dare ever ask. The tea kettle went off and I jumped a little. Leonard gave he his worried look. I gave him a smile and tried to look embarrassed. I was still a little edgy from my dream and had not yet fully recovered. I hoped I could shake it off before school.
After tea, Vanessa went upstairs, changed and said her goodbyes, she quickly kissed my cheek and swiftly walked passed my father and through the front door. I had just finished loading the dishwasher when I heard Aaron’s alarm clock go off from upstairs, about five minutes later I heard the shower running and about ten minutes after that I watched my brother come down the steps. He had on a bright red shirt and blue jeans. His hair still dripping wet. He sat down on one if the barstools next to the counter. I handed him a cup of coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and hazelnut cream.
“Thanks!” He said with too much enthusiasm.
“Stupid morning person,” I mumbled, and he laughed at me. I heated up the leftovers from breakfast in the microwave, he sipped coffee and nibbled on a piece of pound cake while he waited for the ding.
“Vanessa was here,” I said to him as soon as I heard my father close his door after climbing up the stairs.
“Did you talk to her?” His eyebrows creased in the middle and his bright eyes widened with interest and concern. I quickly told him about this morning.
“Oh,” he said and stared down at the piece of pound cake he was now pondering rather than eating then set it on the counter top. He suddenly became fixated with his empty plate in front of him. He’s always so hungry I thought to myself.
“How old is she?” I asked him.
“I think she was twenty-seven when he ‘met’ her, I’m not sure if she’s twenty-eight yet.” His hands made little quotation marks as he spoke the word ‘met‘. My father claimed to have only met Vanessa when he had first hired her about eight or nine months ago. But Aaron and I knew better. His behavior changed two summers ago when he came back from a business meeting in New York. I really didn’t know much about Vanessa, just that she studied philosophy and played tennis. I knew she lived in New York before Leonard had offered her a job here. My father had started playing tennis. He bought a brand new shinny sports car and a Harley Davidson motorcycle. At first my mom thought that he was going through a mid-life crisis, which being nearly fifty, he was. I heard the microwave ding just then and took the plate from Aaron’s hands. I scooped an oversized portion of eggs and sausage onto his plate and handed it to him.
“Awesome! I’m so hungry,” He said and dug in, “Thanks!”
“Sure,” I said and started cutting a yellow pear into fours putting two slices on his plate, and biting into another. He gave me a wide grin, and I had to smile back.
I watched him as he ate. We looked too much alike, even for brother and sister. His eyes were the same chocolate brown color as mine, and his hair was the exact same deep bronze color mine had been before I had dyed it. He was thin like me, but a foot taller, and muscular. We had the exact same skin tone, which was very light despite our mother who was half Native American. Mom was dark toned with long corn silk black hair down to her waist, her eyes were dark. She was very beautiful. We both had her features, but mostly we took after our father who had light skin and yellow hair. His eyes were not quite the same shade of brown Aaron and I had, but close. I thought of Vanessa’s hazel eyes and wondered for the first time if she had any children. Wouldn’t I know? My father would, but would he have told me by now? Aaron got up and rinsed his plate in the sink.
“We should get going,” He said. I glanced at the clock on the microwave, six-thirty. I groaned. It was the first week of school, and I didn’t enjoy the forty-five minute drive south each day. But I needed to be there. Or so I’d been told. I had been home schooled since we moved to California, unlike my social butterfly of a brother who convinced me to go to school with him this year so that we could graduate together. I did not hesitate to enroll, but actually getting up and going everyday, that was a drag. I didn’t understand what the big deal was about high school, I could get the same amount of work done in a much shorter amount of time without going to high school everyday, and without nineteen other teenagers in the same room as me, it was a huge distraction. At least it made my father happy, he was overjoyed to hear that I wanted to go to school with Aaron and more than willing to pay the very steep tuition each semester. He didn’t like the idea of me staying home alone all day with mom gone, he was worried about all the uninterrupted alone time and what it might do to me. My mother had worked nights as a nurse at a local clinic, so she was usually with me most of the day. She was always involved in a lot of different activities. She would take me to her book club, yoga, pottery class and the piano lessons she would teach on weekends. My father told me that hanging out with my mother and her peers had aged me, he wanted me to go to school and spend time with people my own age. My mother on the other hand would tell him that I was very mature for my age and I didn’t mind that I didn’t relate much to my own age group, which I didn’t. The closest thing I ever had to my own friend was Aaron’s best friend Charles. Charles LeCanely was smart, funny and gorgeous, I had been in love with him since we met. He and Aaron became friends when they were assigned science partners at school the first year that we moved here. Since then, Charles had been a regular addition to family trips, summer camps, and after school and weekend visits. Both Charles’s parents were doctors, they had lots of money, worked all the time but were never home. My father called him his “adopted son” and my mother would say that both Doctor LeCaneys were unfit parents, because they often missed out on Charles’s life. They would give my parents money to include him in our family events like trips to Washington and New York, since Charles would most likely be staying home alone on holidays or sent to Boston to be with Mr. LeCaney’s children from his first marriage. Charles lived at our school and stayed at our house. His parents huge five bedroom empty penthouse was two hours north of us, but he never thought it was worth the drive up. I swallowed a mouthful of my now room temperature tea and then set the cup in the sink. Aaron and I walked up the stairs to retrieve our book bags.
“Andrea?” Aaron called after we were already in our separate rooms.
“In dad’s study, next to the computer!” I answered his unasked question about where he left his calculus book.
“Thank-you!” I heard him shout from the study. I smiled to myself while I picked up my notebook, calculator and textbooks off of the floor next to my bed and stuffed them into my bag, sighing as I felt the weight of it. I searched for a pen in my desk and stuffed it into the pocket of my little brown pencil bag, and zipped it shut. I looked at my tired pale reflection in the mirror again and pulled my long, and now brushed hair into a ponytail, before heading downstairs. Aaron was already waiting for my by the front door keys in hand.
“Ready?” He asked.
“I suppose,” I grumbled rolling my eyes. He smiled and pulled his arm around my shoulder gently pushing me out the door.

DAMN YOU IAIN! DAMN YOU!

That I can do everything on my own,

Why is God still here with me?

I'm so ashamed of everything, and he talked to me.

He still loves me.
After I pushed him away.
And I need him to.

Can I find and see who I really am again?

I can't hold my insides in.

So, please,
Slow down lungs,
remember how to breathe, in and out again.
Don't be fooled, you can do better than that,
you're supposed to exhale too.

Oh please, my dear mind,
you aren't meant to spin that fast, remember, it's too fast,
the same way you spin a bottle cap,
and then you'll stray so far away.

and be spun out too far.

So, please,
slow down heart,
can't you get it right?
You can't explode on me again,
I promise, I'll try harder
I'll try harder to hold you into my chest.
You can't give up on me just yet, I will try so hard, I won't abuse you this time.
don't you know silly,
I'd feel so lost without you.

My blood and by me I'll fall when you leave.