My journalism teacher told us we needed to write a quick first person story on one of your most memorable school memories, whether good or bad. I immediately thought of a single story, one that was regrettably not a happy tale at all. This is a ture story, one which I have changed his name, which stuck with me, and truly showed me the full length of three long days.
Three Days Take A Lifetime
By: Megan Young
I looked down at my phone with excitement, seeing the screen light up filled me with childish happiness. I tried to dodge all the kids bolting through the hallways to get to homeroom class, which was difficult when my nose was pressed against a phone. Jayson was on the other side of the conversation, saying he missed his long lost sister and wished I would move back home. Of course I couldn't, that wasn't my choice. If I had my choice, I would have gone back to Texas and embrace my friends with death gripped hugs. I missed them with all my heart and hoped someday we would be reunited. Texting back I spoke my true feelings, that I loved him and wished I could run all the way back on foot and change things back to the way they were before the move.
Arriving at my class, I took my seat and got ready for another homeroom filled with wasted time. We never did anything in homeroom; this may be because it wasn't actually a real class. All we would do was sit in our desks, and talk to our friends. I sat with false hope that someone, anyone, would talk to me. No such luck.
I pulled out my phone just as Mr. Gilbert walked in and lazily sauntered to his desk, trying not to acknowledge any of us. Mr. Gilbert was a short man with dark hair and a scruffy beard that didn’t look like it was intentional. In one hand he held a steaming cup of coffee and in the other papers that he would soon lay on his desk and pretend they don’t exist. Eventually he sat down in his chair and placed the papers in a random pile. Score one for Megan, I called it.
I turned my attention back to the text and opened the message, happy someone was talking to me today. That’s when things got weird, brace yourself, it gets upsetting. The message that struck fear into me was simple, just a question, but it was one I hoped never to be asked. “What do you think it’s like to die?” Okay, maybe it doesn’t seem so bad to you, but this is my best friend we are talking about here, one that I could not comfort on a daily basis, one I only see once every two years, if that. So it was pretty worrisome to me.
Of course I replied, hopefully with some sanity, saying I didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. This resulted in him asking even stranger questions, including how I would commit suicide, and why. I did not answer those, but instead asked him if he was okay, and if I should worry about him. I looked up at the clock that was hanging on the wall by the door, quickly figuring out I still had 45 minutes left in homeroom. My anxiety peeked when his quick reply was received; “I’m fine” was all he said, so short, not enough reassurance. Thinking back on it now, I bet my millions of texts after that annoyed him to no end, but I couldn’t leave it like that.
Three days passed by without any sort of word from him, not a text, not a call, nothing. Have you ever gone three days thinking your best friend was dead? It’s the worst feeling in the world trust me. I had no way to get a hold of him, and all the means to. At lunch on the third day, I finally got a message sent from his phone. My hands shook, hoping, praying that it would be him and not someone else.
We have already decided the worst feeling in the world, now do you know the best? When you find out you were wrong. Silly, I know, but sometimes being wrong is what you hope for. Jayson was fine; he explained to me he was writing an essay for school that required another’s opinion on suicide, and when he got home, his mother took his phone, the result of a bad grade. Although he was sincere with his apologies, the memory never fades, the panic never subsides, and I never appreciated my friend more.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Shakespeare Letter
Another one of my English assignments where I had to write something (I am sure you can see why it is my favorite class). We are learning about Shakespear and the Globe Theatre, and had to write a letter as if we went back in time to Shakespearean times and are writting to someone from the Modern day world. I decided to write to a fictional character (Nerdy I know) who is my favorite character in my favorite book Series. (City Of Bones By Cassandra Clare. These books were reccommended to me by my Aunt Becky Barlow, and they are going to make the movies this upcomming year. *Squeal*) Anyways, this was my letter to Jace Wayland/Herondale/Morgenstein/Lightwood/everything else.
Dear Jace Herondale,
I beseech you to listen to the tale of my wonderful escapade through time. Do you remember how I am very much in Love with the Shakespearean time period? How I use to constantly read his plays and wish I were a part of them? Well I have wonderful news for you! I have traveled back to the year 1602 in a place called Southwark. Isn’t that just amazing? At first I didn’t have a clue where I was, as I found myself in a closet filled with costumes of vibrant color and brilliant fabric. It was a small closet, not at all spacious, with a wooden door directly in front of me.
Upon leaving the trifling closet, I opened the wooden door and stumbled out, directly into a large man who had been standing in front of the door. He turned, angered by the sudden collision and yelled “Watch it” loudly at me. I squeaked a small apology and regarded his attire. He was dressed in a filthy short and pants with an apron splattered in fake blood, which hardly fit around the great mass of his body. In his right hand he held a huge knife and in the other, a fake pig carcass. I scrunched my nose and asked what he was, quite frightful of angering his further with that knife at the ready. The strange man straightened and proudly told me his name was Horace, and he was playing the butcher in the new Shakespeare play. He went on to tell me about the Globe Theatre I had very fortunately landed directly in the middle of. Think of the embarrassment I experienced when he asked who I played in the show, gazing at my modern day jeans and t-shirt. I finally told his a came from a faraway place, and that my people dress differently than his. I quickly left him with very little final words, and exited through the door to my right.
Luckily it led outside and into the more populated areas of the theatre. I then made my way to a seat next to a young woman holding a small lad, trying to ignore the strange looks I was receiving from the crowd around me. The woman in the seat next to me was dressed in a casual worn blue frock and she had her brown hair pulled in a messy knot behind her head. Her young boy was head to toe covered in dirt, probably from playing around with the other boys running through the place. Atop his head lay a black beret than looked like it was taken from the movie “Marry Poppins” from the chimney sweeps. His mother wrapped her arms around the boy to steady his squirmy form. The lad seemed to want to be a part of the pit, where there was a horde of people standing, waiting for the show to begin. “Hush now” she told him, restraining him from jumping up “You’ll see him just fine from here”. The boy, distraught, replied “But I want to see papa preform from closer”. The woman finally got him settled back into his seat and reassured him he would see his father just as well from his seat. As soon as the lad was settled, he sprung back up, alerted by the man who had just waltzed on stage.
I recognized him immediately, Shakespeare himself. I felt my heart seemingly beat out of my chest, and there was a tremor in my hands. He wore a maroon shirt, patterned with small golden swirls. The sleeves on his shirt were puffed out to the size of water melons and his pants were also a golden color. Such a silly thing to wear, I thought, trying not to chortle at his oversized sleeves, completely baffled with the thought it was actually him! He threw his hand in the air and announced the play that we were to see, and paraded off the stage like he was king of the world. The moment his foot touched the bottom step, the play begun in a whirl of colors and music.
The whole thing was flawless and wonderfully entertaining. There was nothing like it, and I could never imagine anything back at home to speak to me the way this place does. I tell you this, Jace, because I have met many new people, and love the land, culture, and arts so much. I can finally be a part in Shakespeare’s history and will be able to watch as he creates those plays I adore so greatly. I regret to inform you that I have resolved to stay. I will keep writing and I hope you will reciprocate these letters back to me. I am sorry to say that you will not see me again, but do not worry; I am finally where I belong. Please take care of yourself and do not be ill with me. I wish you the very best, and hope you find as much happiness in your life as I have.
Yours Forever,
Megan Young
Dear Jace Herondale,
I beseech you to listen to the tale of my wonderful escapade through time. Do you remember how I am very much in Love with the Shakespearean time period? How I use to constantly read his plays and wish I were a part of them? Well I have wonderful news for you! I have traveled back to the year 1602 in a place called Southwark. Isn’t that just amazing? At first I didn’t have a clue where I was, as I found myself in a closet filled with costumes of vibrant color and brilliant fabric. It was a small closet, not at all spacious, with a wooden door directly in front of me.
Upon leaving the trifling closet, I opened the wooden door and stumbled out, directly into a large man who had been standing in front of the door. He turned, angered by the sudden collision and yelled “Watch it” loudly at me. I squeaked a small apology and regarded his attire. He was dressed in a filthy short and pants with an apron splattered in fake blood, which hardly fit around the great mass of his body. In his right hand he held a huge knife and in the other, a fake pig carcass. I scrunched my nose and asked what he was, quite frightful of angering his further with that knife at the ready. The strange man straightened and proudly told me his name was Horace, and he was playing the butcher in the new Shakespeare play. He went on to tell me about the Globe Theatre I had very fortunately landed directly in the middle of. Think of the embarrassment I experienced when he asked who I played in the show, gazing at my modern day jeans and t-shirt. I finally told his a came from a faraway place, and that my people dress differently than his. I quickly left him with very little final words, and exited through the door to my right.
Luckily it led outside and into the more populated areas of the theatre. I then made my way to a seat next to a young woman holding a small lad, trying to ignore the strange looks I was receiving from the crowd around me. The woman in the seat next to me was dressed in a casual worn blue frock and she had her brown hair pulled in a messy knot behind her head. Her young boy was head to toe covered in dirt, probably from playing around with the other boys running through the place. Atop his head lay a black beret than looked like it was taken from the movie “Marry Poppins” from the chimney sweeps. His mother wrapped her arms around the boy to steady his squirmy form. The lad seemed to want to be a part of the pit, where there was a horde of people standing, waiting for the show to begin. “Hush now” she told him, restraining him from jumping up “You’ll see him just fine from here”. The boy, distraught, replied “But I want to see papa preform from closer”. The woman finally got him settled back into his seat and reassured him he would see his father just as well from his seat. As soon as the lad was settled, he sprung back up, alerted by the man who had just waltzed on stage.
I recognized him immediately, Shakespeare himself. I felt my heart seemingly beat out of my chest, and there was a tremor in my hands. He wore a maroon shirt, patterned with small golden swirls. The sleeves on his shirt were puffed out to the size of water melons and his pants were also a golden color. Such a silly thing to wear, I thought, trying not to chortle at his oversized sleeves, completely baffled with the thought it was actually him! He threw his hand in the air and announced the play that we were to see, and paraded off the stage like he was king of the world. The moment his foot touched the bottom step, the play begun in a whirl of colors and music.
The whole thing was flawless and wonderfully entertaining. There was nothing like it, and I could never imagine anything back at home to speak to me the way this place does. I tell you this, Jace, because I have met many new people, and love the land, culture, and arts so much. I can finally be a part in Shakespeare’s history and will be able to watch as he creates those plays I adore so greatly. I regret to inform you that I have resolved to stay. I will keep writing and I hope you will reciprocate these letters back to me. I am sorry to say that you will not see me again, but do not worry; I am finally where I belong. Please take care of yourself and do not be ill with me. I wish you the very best, and hope you find as much happiness in your life as I have.
Yours Forever,
Megan Young
A Boast to Normality
I am keeping true to the promise I made myself to post everything I wrote. This is actually the making of an English assignment where we had to act like "Beowulf" and write a poem boasting about ourselves. Your points were taken off if you were not boastful enough or you said "I am Kind of". The assignment stated you had to act sure of yourself and say "I AM the best". Me, being a very modest person, hated this assignment and was really shy when having to read it in front of the class. I did my best and got the grade I wanted, so I wanted to post this, making sure to keep my promise :)
A Boast to Normality
Megan Young
Some people say I’m funny
Some people like my style,
But I am here to tell you
I am much more worthwhile
They failed to notice my noblesse
Is nothing less than perfectness
I can draw a large crowd
With the words I put out
My adventures exceed some others limit
And the boundary grows with each passing minute
I can shoot, or strive, or even sky dive
And through all of this I have learned to survive
My parents, Karen and Rob
Beam down at me from their job
Dentistry is my dad’s calling
Whereas mom keeps children from bawling
Someday I will become an author
And maybe someday even more
My patience is something of a gem
We will get there now or then
But as for today
I will keep my talents at bay
And although my boastfulness could use some work
I am the very best at the worst of quirks
A Boast to Normality
Megan Young
Some people say I’m funny
Some people like my style,
But I am here to tell you
I am much more worthwhile
They failed to notice my noblesse
Is nothing less than perfectness
I can draw a large crowd
With the words I put out
My adventures exceed some others limit
And the boundary grows with each passing minute
I can shoot, or strive, or even sky dive
And through all of this I have learned to survive
My parents, Karen and Rob
Beam down at me from their job
Dentistry is my dad’s calling
Whereas mom keeps children from bawling
Someday I will become an author
And maybe someday even more
My patience is something of a gem
We will get there now or then
But as for today
I will keep my talents at bay
And although my boastfulness could use some work
I am the very best at the worst of quirks
Dirty Mouth?! Clean it up!
This month in the School Newspaper we did a health issue where all of our articles related to staying healthy. My job became really easy after that was decided, seeing as my dad is a successful dentist. I got all of my facts directly from my dad Dr. Robert Young D.D.S. and I KNOW he is a reliable source.
Dirty Mouth? Clean it up!
By: Megan Young
There was an elderly man and woman settling down for bed, when the man turns to his wife and smiles down at her. “Darling” he starts, “Your teeth remind me of the stars.” His wife, touched by the comment, happily replies “Because they gleam and sparkle?” she ask, scooting closer to him. The old man laughs “Heavens no!” he exclaims “Because they come out at night.”
People who do not take proper care of their teeth are just creating numerous problems for yourself that could greatly impact you. A little known fact, tooth decay is one of the most common of all disorders, second only to the common cold. I spoke with local Dentist Dr. Robert Young D.D.S for his advice for teens that do not take care of their teeth. He believes it is very simple to maintain a clean mouth, and have a beautiful smile, all it takes is a small effort to brush twice a day for two minutes each time, floss once a day, at least the teeth you plan on keeping, see a dentist at least twice a year, and avoid sugary foods and drinks. People who tend to drink 3 or more glasses of sugary soda daily have 62% more tooth decay, fillings and tooth loss than others.
Many teenagers worry about how white their teeth are compared to their friends. Dr. Young informed me that discolored teeth do not only come from lack of brushing, but also from the foods they may consume. He advised that teens who worry about the whiteness of their teeth should avoid dark drinks such as colas, red wine (For parents), coffee, tea, and kool-aids. He also added that cigarette smoke and tobacco will stain your teeth and cause them to look unhealthy. If your teeth are stained by means of dark drinks or cigarettes, you may want to invest in whitening toothpaste and bleaching systems.
Another worry many teens have is having bad breath or chipped teeth. Bad breath is primarily caused by bacteria build up in the mouth, which could easily be fixed with a quick brush. Chipping on the other hand is not as easily fixed. For anyone with tongue piercings, the piercing will actually chip and break your teeth, and can eventually strip your gums away.
Bulimia and Meth amphetamine are other causes of bad breath and poor dental care. Bulimia will dissolve the enamel off of the teeth, which causes your teeth to become brittle and easy to break down. Meth amphetamine use leads to a condition called “Meth Mouth” which is the rapid destruction of your teeth within just a few years’ time. Ewwww... google "Meth Mouth", but only if you have a strong stomach, and you are not currently eating.
When asking Dr. Young what the long term effects of not having the proper dental care are, he told me that it could cause you to need dentures earlier on in life than average. The older you get, the more brittle your teeth become, and the more likely you are going to be an elderly person with dentures instead of actual teeth. “The better you take care of your teeth throughout your lifetime, the longer you will have teeth to take care of” says Dr. Young.
The average woman smiles about sixty two times a day, and a man only about eight. Each time you smile, there is likely to be someone watching. A pretty smile is one of the leading and most noticeable attractions to other people, whether it is a friend, significant other, boss, or family members. If you have a pretty smile, and use it often, you will find yourself surrounded by people who enjoy your company.
Dirty Mouth? Clean it up!
By: Megan Young
There was an elderly man and woman settling down for bed, when the man turns to his wife and smiles down at her. “Darling” he starts, “Your teeth remind me of the stars.” His wife, touched by the comment, happily replies “Because they gleam and sparkle?” she ask, scooting closer to him. The old man laughs “Heavens no!” he exclaims “Because they come out at night.”
People who do not take proper care of their teeth are just creating numerous problems for yourself that could greatly impact you. A little known fact, tooth decay is one of the most common of all disorders, second only to the common cold. I spoke with local Dentist Dr. Robert Young D.D.S for his advice for teens that do not take care of their teeth. He believes it is very simple to maintain a clean mouth, and have a beautiful smile, all it takes is a small effort to brush twice a day for two minutes each time, floss once a day, at least the teeth you plan on keeping, see a dentist at least twice a year, and avoid sugary foods and drinks. People who tend to drink 3 or more glasses of sugary soda daily have 62% more tooth decay, fillings and tooth loss than others.
Many teenagers worry about how white their teeth are compared to their friends. Dr. Young informed me that discolored teeth do not only come from lack of brushing, but also from the foods they may consume. He advised that teens who worry about the whiteness of their teeth should avoid dark drinks such as colas, red wine (For parents), coffee, tea, and kool-aids. He also added that cigarette smoke and tobacco will stain your teeth and cause them to look unhealthy. If your teeth are stained by means of dark drinks or cigarettes, you may want to invest in whitening toothpaste and bleaching systems.
Another worry many teens have is having bad breath or chipped teeth. Bad breath is primarily caused by bacteria build up in the mouth, which could easily be fixed with a quick brush. Chipping on the other hand is not as easily fixed. For anyone with tongue piercings, the piercing will actually chip and break your teeth, and can eventually strip your gums away.
Bulimia and Meth amphetamine are other causes of bad breath and poor dental care. Bulimia will dissolve the enamel off of the teeth, which causes your teeth to become brittle and easy to break down. Meth amphetamine use leads to a condition called “Meth Mouth” which is the rapid destruction of your teeth within just a few years’ time. Ewwww... google "Meth Mouth", but only if you have a strong stomach, and you are not currently eating.
When asking Dr. Young what the long term effects of not having the proper dental care are, he told me that it could cause you to need dentures earlier on in life than average. The older you get, the more brittle your teeth become, and the more likely you are going to be an elderly person with dentures instead of actual teeth. “The better you take care of your teeth throughout your lifetime, the longer you will have teeth to take care of” says Dr. Young.
The average woman smiles about sixty two times a day, and a man only about eight. Each time you smile, there is likely to be someone watching. A pretty smile is one of the leading and most noticeable attractions to other people, whether it is a friend, significant other, boss, or family members. If you have a pretty smile, and use it often, you will find yourself surrounded by people who enjoy your company.
Weaving the Threads of A Family
This month for Teen2Teen I was asked to write an article on family traditions and what teens think about theirs. I really had a lot of fun writing this because I was able to ask my family about ours, which started a frenzy of funny stories and adored memories. I decided 'Who better to ask about traditions, then myself'. These are just a few of my families traditions, normal and strange.
Weaving the Threads of A Family
By Megan Young
It has been said, there was a young bride watching her mother cook. While preparing the Sunday roast, the mother cuts off both ends before placing it in the pan. The bride asks “Why do you cut off the ends?” to which the mother replies “That’s the way your Grandma taught me”. The young girl, curious why they would cut off perfectly good ends of a roast, pays her grandma a visit. When she asks her grandmother, she replied “I don’t know, your great grandmother always did it”. When at last she asked her great grandmother, she finally got her answer. Her great grandmother looks as her and says “The roast was always too big for the pan”. As you can see, tradition can originate with the smallest gesture.
My family has many traditions; most of which are special specifically to our family. Our traditions may seem strange to you, whereas they seem so familiar to us.
We have a tradition to make something called “Grandma Joe Salad” and don’t worry, it’s not a salad made out of my Grandma, but rather a sweet Jell-O dessert she use to make every Thanksgiving. It came from my Great Grandma Joe and she made it EVERY holiday. We thought carrying on this small tradition in honor of my Great Grandma was a great way to have happy ancestors, and happy eaters.
Though traditions are often times sentimental and honorable, they can also be silly. One of our stranger traditions is the Pickle ornament! Yes, that’s right, a Pickle ornament, which is actually claimed to be a German tradition, brought to our family by my Italian ancestors. Go figure. Every year for Christmas our family gets out this glass pickle hanging on a string and leaves it out for “Santa” on the Eve of Christmas. It is then “Santa’s’” job to hide the ornament somewhere in the tree. Then in the morning, all the kids in the house race downstairs, ignoring our presents, and try to locate the hidden trinket. Since the pickle is the same color as the tree, it is incredibly hard to find. The first one of us to find the pickle gets the special “Pickle Present” which is an extra gift you get to open. The present is usually something the whole family can enjoy, but the finder has the joy of calling it theirs.
Also for Christmas, we have a simple tradition that my family has carried on for many generations, and will be carried for many more. Every year after our Christmas Eve feast, our family always gets to open two presents early, one our parents pick, and one we choose. Although, it is never a surprise what is inside our parents gifts because it is always a new pair of pajamas. It is tradition that everyone in the household gets new pajamas, so we can look nice for pictures the next morning. Though we are never surprised when we open those new pajamas, it never takes away from the happiness we get when receiving new stylish jammies.
Traditions can come from any period in time. They do not have to be passed down from generation to generation, as many are, but rather just from a few years back. There are plenty of traditions that are created every day by various families.
One tradition that my family has, comes from a few years ago on Valentine’s Day when my parents decided to go on a date. They went from place to place looking for an opening in any restaurant they came across, but could find none. Finally, giving up, they went to the grocery store and picked up a few pounds of crab and brought it home for dinner. They boiled the crab and set out a bowl of melted butter and we ate until we felt we would burst. Now, every year, instead of fending off the crowds that litter the restaurants, we gather a few pounds of crab, and have a feast of our very own.
Whether your traditions are simple or extravagant, young or old, they are always cherished within our family. People all around the world enjoy partaking in family traditions, and love learning what others may be. These customs within our families make up part of who we are and who our children and grandchildren will be. So take pride in the traditions your family has, and pass on the memories to the people you love, for they may someday be a part of one of your traditions.
Weaving the Threads of A Family
By Megan Young
It has been said, there was a young bride watching her mother cook. While preparing the Sunday roast, the mother cuts off both ends before placing it in the pan. The bride asks “Why do you cut off the ends?” to which the mother replies “That’s the way your Grandma taught me”. The young girl, curious why they would cut off perfectly good ends of a roast, pays her grandma a visit. When she asks her grandmother, she replied “I don’t know, your great grandmother always did it”. When at last she asked her great grandmother, she finally got her answer. Her great grandmother looks as her and says “The roast was always too big for the pan”. As you can see, tradition can originate with the smallest gesture.
My family has many traditions; most of which are special specifically to our family. Our traditions may seem strange to you, whereas they seem so familiar to us.
We have a tradition to make something called “Grandma Joe Salad” and don’t worry, it’s not a salad made out of my Grandma, but rather a sweet Jell-O dessert she use to make every Thanksgiving. It came from my Great Grandma Joe and she made it EVERY holiday. We thought carrying on this small tradition in honor of my Great Grandma was a great way to have happy ancestors, and happy eaters.
Though traditions are often times sentimental and honorable, they can also be silly. One of our stranger traditions is the Pickle ornament! Yes, that’s right, a Pickle ornament, which is actually claimed to be a German tradition, brought to our family by my Italian ancestors. Go figure. Every year for Christmas our family gets out this glass pickle hanging on a string and leaves it out for “Santa” on the Eve of Christmas. It is then “Santa’s’” job to hide the ornament somewhere in the tree. Then in the morning, all the kids in the house race downstairs, ignoring our presents, and try to locate the hidden trinket. Since the pickle is the same color as the tree, it is incredibly hard to find. The first one of us to find the pickle gets the special “Pickle Present” which is an extra gift you get to open. The present is usually something the whole family can enjoy, but the finder has the joy of calling it theirs.
Also for Christmas, we have a simple tradition that my family has carried on for many generations, and will be carried for many more. Every year after our Christmas Eve feast, our family always gets to open two presents early, one our parents pick, and one we choose. Although, it is never a surprise what is inside our parents gifts because it is always a new pair of pajamas. It is tradition that everyone in the household gets new pajamas, so we can look nice for pictures the next morning. Though we are never surprised when we open those new pajamas, it never takes away from the happiness we get when receiving new stylish jammies.
Traditions can come from any period in time. They do not have to be passed down from generation to generation, as many are, but rather just from a few years back. There are plenty of traditions that are created every day by various families.
One tradition that my family has, comes from a few years ago on Valentine’s Day when my parents decided to go on a date. They went from place to place looking for an opening in any restaurant they came across, but could find none. Finally, giving up, they went to the grocery store and picked up a few pounds of crab and brought it home for dinner. They boiled the crab and set out a bowl of melted butter and we ate until we felt we would burst. Now, every year, instead of fending off the crowds that litter the restaurants, we gather a few pounds of crab, and have a feast of our very own.
Whether your traditions are simple or extravagant, young or old, they are always cherished within our family. People all around the world enjoy partaking in family traditions, and love learning what others may be. These customs within our families make up part of who we are and who our children and grandchildren will be. So take pride in the traditions your family has, and pass on the memories to the people you love, for they may someday be a part of one of your traditions.
The Trouble with Trouble
This was also for my online magazine (Teen2Teen) which my boss wanted me to write about my sister and the problems we have. Once again this was a really hard article to write about because Andrea and I get along extremely well. I did the best I could, trying to meet the requirements while still being truthful to my relationship with Andrea. This is an actual memory from my childhood that I, still to this day, have not been able to live down.
The Trouble with Trouble
By Megan Young
The trouble with trouble is I never got in trouble for doing something wrong with my sister. When we were little we always got in trouble for having too much fun together. We would drive our parents insane because we would not stop laughing and playing, we would never just sit down and be quiet. They would make us sit in “Time out” or start up a round of the quiet game, just so they could have a break from the sounds of us pretending to be princesses or fighting off the bad guys.
Even when my parents thought we finally settled down and went to sleep, there I was, sneaking into my sisters’ room late at night. There was a code for getting into her room, three taps on the door and she would let me in. After I was granted entrance the fun continued, we would grab our huge Winnie the Poo stuffed animals, a blanket, and a deck of cards. We made forts and castles out of our pillows and stayed up late at night playing “Go Fish” by flashlight.
Of course the most trouble with trouble was when we were actually in trouble. I remember one morning when we were very little, my sister, Andrea, came into my room and woke me up. She told me she wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood and I shouldn’t worry because we would be back before mom even wakes up. Me, being the curious type, quickly agreed and we headed to the door in our bright pink Barbie pajamas to begin our little adventure.
Once we opened that wide door that led into the cul-de-sac, we realized our problem, we couldn’t cross the street. Soon we decided that we would walk on the sidewalk as far as it would go, and then change directions once we hit the street. Andrea wanted to protect me and make sure I was out of harms way, so she held my hand and made sure I didn’t go anywhere near the road. Since we didn’t dare cross the street, we ended up going in a square around the block and eventually returned back home. Boy, the house was a sight to see.
In the short amount of time we were gone, my mother had realized our absence and was, at this point, running frantically outside the house with a huge phone in her hand. She was on the top of the hill, which regrettably led to the busy road, looking for us and praying we weren’t in the street. My mom turned around to see us walking hand-in-hand casually back into the house. She then ran down the hill and showered us with hugs and kisses, promptly followed by a proper lecture and bolts on the door well above out heads.
There are worse kinds of trouble than when you are not actually in trouble, but it’s trouble nonetheless. Of course, the trouble between sisters is that sometimes we fight, and sometimes we try to annoy each other for no reason other than to irritate one another, but in the end we’ll always be there for each other in the worst of times. So the trouble with trouble, is that it’ll always find you.
The Trouble with Trouble
By Megan Young
The trouble with trouble is I never got in trouble for doing something wrong with my sister. When we were little we always got in trouble for having too much fun together. We would drive our parents insane because we would not stop laughing and playing, we would never just sit down and be quiet. They would make us sit in “Time out” or start up a round of the quiet game, just so they could have a break from the sounds of us pretending to be princesses or fighting off the bad guys.
Even when my parents thought we finally settled down and went to sleep, there I was, sneaking into my sisters’ room late at night. There was a code for getting into her room, three taps on the door and she would let me in. After I was granted entrance the fun continued, we would grab our huge Winnie the Poo stuffed animals, a blanket, and a deck of cards. We made forts and castles out of our pillows and stayed up late at night playing “Go Fish” by flashlight.
Of course the most trouble with trouble was when we were actually in trouble. I remember one morning when we were very little, my sister, Andrea, came into my room and woke me up. She told me she wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood and I shouldn’t worry because we would be back before mom even wakes up. Me, being the curious type, quickly agreed and we headed to the door in our bright pink Barbie pajamas to begin our little adventure.
Once we opened that wide door that led into the cul-de-sac, we realized our problem, we couldn’t cross the street. Soon we decided that we would walk on the sidewalk as far as it would go, and then change directions once we hit the street. Andrea wanted to protect me and make sure I was out of harms way, so she held my hand and made sure I didn’t go anywhere near the road. Since we didn’t dare cross the street, we ended up going in a square around the block and eventually returned back home. Boy, the house was a sight to see.
In the short amount of time we were gone, my mother had realized our absence and was, at this point, running frantically outside the house with a huge phone in her hand. She was on the top of the hill, which regrettably led to the busy road, looking for us and praying we weren’t in the street. My mom turned around to see us walking hand-in-hand casually back into the house. She then ran down the hill and showered us with hugs and kisses, promptly followed by a proper lecture and bolts on the door well above out heads.
There are worse kinds of trouble than when you are not actually in trouble, but it’s trouble nonetheless. Of course, the trouble between sisters is that sometimes we fight, and sometimes we try to annoy each other for no reason other than to irritate one another, but in the end we’ll always be there for each other in the worst of times. So the trouble with trouble, is that it’ll always find you.
Parents Do the Darndest Things
Along with the school newspaper, I was recently hired for an online magazine writting articles. Unfortunatly I am not able to choose what I write, but I make do the best I can. My boss requested I write an article about embarrassing things your parents do. This, for me, was difficult because my parents are very supportive and "Hip", so I had to actually research this topic and find what other people thing of their embarrassing parents. Turns out there are a lot of really embarrassing parents in the world these days :)
Parents Do the Darnedest Things
By Megan Young
You know those people who have been there our whole lives, the ones who changed our diapers, scared away the monsters in our closet, and comforted us when we were sad? We all know parents are meant to be embarrassing, oblivious, and dare I say, uncool. Sometimes they know just what to say, and others they are as clueless as an overturned turtle. So to any parent out there reading this, your teens have something to say to you.
Dear Parents,
• Just because you can fit into the clothes you wore in high school, doesn’t mean you should wear them.
• We don’t really hate you; it’s just not cool to be your friend right now.
• Face it, that is gray hair and there is nothing you can do about it, dying your hair jet black just makes you stand out more.
• We don’t need fancy gifts for us to know you love us.
• You can only turn twenty-nine once.
• Wait, wait, wait, you don’t know how to copy and paste?
• My friends really don’t want to see naked baby pictures of me, I am sure they would like to keep their eyesight.
• Sure we don’t like when you discipline us, but at least we know you care.
• If you’re friends say you haven’t changed a bit since high school, it’s not a good thing. Times have changed, maybe it’s time you did too.
• Yes, you may know the words to your favorite tune, but please don’t belt the song in a public place.
• No, talking in text abbreviations does not make you cool. (OMG That’s so funny LOL)
• We have completely different ideas on the definition of “Cool”, ours is right, yours is wrong.
• Sure, you can dance, but only in private. Please don’t decide to start seizing on the dance floor at a social event.
• No, the jokes you see on Laffy Taffy wrappers are NOT funny, please don’t feel the need to repeat them.
• Remember, when we have company, “Pull my finger” is not an appropriate ice breaker.
• It’s okay mom, everybody sags.
• Just because the recipe says “Pumpkin Crisps” doesn’t mean you have to burn it.
• Dad, boxers or briefs is not really a question; it’s always boxers… always.
• If your pants rise higher than your belly button, its time for a trip to the mall.
• Bodily functions, fiber needs, aches, and pains should not ever be included in any public conversation… period.
• For your information, Twitter is not a bird, and Facebook doesn’t mean your child is studying.
• I am sure you thought by this time that everything would be voice activated, but screaming “On” multiple times at an IPod will do you no good.
• You’re too old for PDA. Period
• Nobody cares what it’s like ‘back in the day’
• We know you walked up hill both ways in the snow to school, but do we have to hear it, every time?
• Playing air guitar to your favorite band does not make you a rock star.
• Finally, if you look back at your yearbook and notice you still have the same hairstyle, it may be time for a change.
Love, Your Teen.
P.S. Of course, no matter how many times you make us hide our faces in shame, or wish we could melt into the nearest wall, remember that we still love you and all your crazy antics.
Parents Do the Darnedest Things
By Megan Young
You know those people who have been there our whole lives, the ones who changed our diapers, scared away the monsters in our closet, and comforted us when we were sad? We all know parents are meant to be embarrassing, oblivious, and dare I say, uncool. Sometimes they know just what to say, and others they are as clueless as an overturned turtle. So to any parent out there reading this, your teens have something to say to you.
Dear Parents,
• Just because you can fit into the clothes you wore in high school, doesn’t mean you should wear them.
• We don’t really hate you; it’s just not cool to be your friend right now.
• Face it, that is gray hair and there is nothing you can do about it, dying your hair jet black just makes you stand out more.
• We don’t need fancy gifts for us to know you love us.
• You can only turn twenty-nine once.
• Wait, wait, wait, you don’t know how to copy and paste?
• My friends really don’t want to see naked baby pictures of me, I am sure they would like to keep their eyesight.
• Sure we don’t like when you discipline us, but at least we know you care.
• If you’re friends say you haven’t changed a bit since high school, it’s not a good thing. Times have changed, maybe it’s time you did too.
• Yes, you may know the words to your favorite tune, but please don’t belt the song in a public place.
• No, talking in text abbreviations does not make you cool. (OMG That’s so funny LOL)
• We have completely different ideas on the definition of “Cool”, ours is right, yours is wrong.
• Sure, you can dance, but only in private. Please don’t decide to start seizing on the dance floor at a social event.
• No, the jokes you see on Laffy Taffy wrappers are NOT funny, please don’t feel the need to repeat them.
• Remember, when we have company, “Pull my finger” is not an appropriate ice breaker.
• It’s okay mom, everybody sags.
• Just because the recipe says “Pumpkin Crisps” doesn’t mean you have to burn it.
• Dad, boxers or briefs is not really a question; it’s always boxers… always.
• If your pants rise higher than your belly button, its time for a trip to the mall.
• Bodily functions, fiber needs, aches, and pains should not ever be included in any public conversation… period.
• For your information, Twitter is not a bird, and Facebook doesn’t mean your child is studying.
• I am sure you thought by this time that everything would be voice activated, but screaming “On” multiple times at an IPod will do you no good.
• You’re too old for PDA. Period
• Nobody cares what it’s like ‘back in the day’
• We know you walked up hill both ways in the snow to school, but do we have to hear it, every time?
• Playing air guitar to your favorite band does not make you a rock star.
• Finally, if you look back at your yearbook and notice you still have the same hairstyle, it may be time for a change.
Love, Your Teen.
P.S. Of course, no matter how many times you make us hide our faces in shame, or wish we could melt into the nearest wall, remember that we still love you and all your crazy antics.
Black Cats, Ladders, and Salt
Yes, strange title, I know. This actually made sense for the time of year this article was posted. The paper for the month of October was published two days before Halloween, so I decided to write an article on different superstitions. I really Loved writting this one, and learned new superstitions I never knew existed. I hope you learn something new also.
Black Cats, Ladders, and Salt
By: Megan Young
To many, superstitions seem to be a silly concept, just something to frivolously brush off as a childrens story. Though you may feel this way, others have superstitious rituals they preform to ensure their good luck, or to ward off the bad.
You may not consider yourself a superstitious person, but tell me, a how many times have you said “Bless you” after around you sneezed? Despite a common misconception that this is simply good etiquette, blessing someone after they sneeze is actually a superstition. Early Romans believed that a good sneeze could release your soul into the world, and a “Bless you” would cause it to retreat back into your body. In fact, during a plague in 1665, the Pope mandated that everyone be blessed when they sneezed, since they would probably die soon.
There are numerous common superstitions that many people are aware of, such as breaking a mirror, walking under a ladder, opening an umbrella inside, spilling salt, the number thirteen, or even black cats. It is said breaking a mirror or walking under a ladder will give you seven years of bad luck. Since a mirror was thought to be a reflection or the soul, breaking a mirror was harmful to it. To counter the ill effects of the seven years of bad luck, it is said you could take the broken mirror outside and bury it in the moonlight. If you accidentally walk under a ladder and experience bad luck, you could reverse this misfortune by placing your thumb between your index and middle finger.
People who are superstitious believe when the umbrella is opened inside and out of the way of sun's rays it offends the “Sun God.” It may even signify impending death or ill fortune for both the person who opened it and the people who live within the home. Another shared superstition is spilling salt, some fear it will bring bad fortune to you and your loved ones. Salt has always been considered a valuable substance capable of purifying and warding off evil spirits. By tossing spilled salt over your left shoulder, some people believe you are driving away the evil spirits lurking with the intent to cause trouble.
How many of you have heard “Step on a crack, and break your mommy’s back?” Many go to great lengths to dodge small divots and faults in the sidewalk’s surface, for fear they will bring harm to their mothers.
A fear of the number 13 is one of the most common superstitions around, and is so widespread that many apartments and hotels omit the 13th floor and some airlines fly without a 13th row.
13 Superstitions in Different Places.
In Paraguay eating a watermelon and then drinking milk is taboo, as they really expect something terrible to happen to you in the near future.
In Spain, when wine is spilled, it's good luck to wet your fingers in the spilt wine and then apply it to both sides of your neck (just like old ladies perfuming themselves), at the same time saying "alegria, alegria" (joy, joy).
In Korea, it is believed that if you sleep with a fan on while the door is closed, you will die of "fan death" Also, writing someone's name in red ink is a big no-no; it signifies blood and death.
In Germany when someone is sick, they open all of the windows despite the weather. Seems that breathing in their own sick air was far more dangerous than being exposed to freezing weather.
In Hawaii it is bad luck to take any black sand, lava, or coral off of any of the islands or beware the wrath of Pele (The Fire Goddess).
In Taiwan, it is bad luck to point at a cemetery.
In Greece, people tend to carry in their wallet a little bone of a bat, since it's believed to protect from the evil eye of dangerous spirits.
In UK, not one Englishman will open his umbrella near the door or will put his new shoes on the table.
Italians think you're lucky to hear a cat sneezing. If an Italian sees a nun, he will seek to touch a metal, so that the luck doesn't leave him.
In Russia, when a cat, especially a black one, crosses your pass, its bad luck, and I've actually seen people try to shoo them off or run ahead of them.
In Moldova if you accidentally hit with your head your friends head you have to hit it the second time or someone will die in the family.
In China brooms are given special attention. They believe each broom has a spirit inside, that's why you have to use it carefully. Hitting someone with a broom means a curse. Also in China when someone's dying, don’t ever stand at the foot of the body because that’s the path the spirit takes to leave the body -if you're in its way, it might go into you.
Japanese are afraid to be photographed in three. The one from the middle is expected to die.
And finally, in Ireland, an old horseshoe can be nailed above a doorway for good luck - you can often see them on old cottages and farmhouses.
So basically, if you happen to be walking under a ladder while holding an open umbrella, kicking over salt and breaking a mirror on a black cat because you sneezed 13 times, you should throw the salt over your left shoulder on a moonlit night, while burying the broken mirror and holding your thumb between your fingers yelling “Bless you” all the way home.
Black Cats, Ladders, and Salt
By: Megan Young
To many, superstitions seem to be a silly concept, just something to frivolously brush off as a childrens story. Though you may feel this way, others have superstitious rituals they preform to ensure their good luck, or to ward off the bad.
You may not consider yourself a superstitious person, but tell me, a how many times have you said “Bless you” after around you sneezed? Despite a common misconception that this is simply good etiquette, blessing someone after they sneeze is actually a superstition. Early Romans believed that a good sneeze could release your soul into the world, and a “Bless you” would cause it to retreat back into your body. In fact, during a plague in 1665, the Pope mandated that everyone be blessed when they sneezed, since they would probably die soon.
There are numerous common superstitions that many people are aware of, such as breaking a mirror, walking under a ladder, opening an umbrella inside, spilling salt, the number thirteen, or even black cats. It is said breaking a mirror or walking under a ladder will give you seven years of bad luck. Since a mirror was thought to be a reflection or the soul, breaking a mirror was harmful to it. To counter the ill effects of the seven years of bad luck, it is said you could take the broken mirror outside and bury it in the moonlight. If you accidentally walk under a ladder and experience bad luck, you could reverse this misfortune by placing your thumb between your index and middle finger.
People who are superstitious believe when the umbrella is opened inside and out of the way of sun's rays it offends the “Sun God.” It may even signify impending death or ill fortune for both the person who opened it and the people who live within the home. Another shared superstition is spilling salt, some fear it will bring bad fortune to you and your loved ones. Salt has always been considered a valuable substance capable of purifying and warding off evil spirits. By tossing spilled salt over your left shoulder, some people believe you are driving away the evil spirits lurking with the intent to cause trouble.
How many of you have heard “Step on a crack, and break your mommy’s back?” Many go to great lengths to dodge small divots and faults in the sidewalk’s surface, for fear they will bring harm to their mothers.
A fear of the number 13 is one of the most common superstitions around, and is so widespread that many apartments and hotels omit the 13th floor and some airlines fly without a 13th row.
13 Superstitions in Different Places.
In Paraguay eating a watermelon and then drinking milk is taboo, as they really expect something terrible to happen to you in the near future.
In Spain, when wine is spilled, it's good luck to wet your fingers in the spilt wine and then apply it to both sides of your neck (just like old ladies perfuming themselves), at the same time saying "alegria, alegria" (joy, joy).
In Korea, it is believed that if you sleep with a fan on while the door is closed, you will die of "fan death" Also, writing someone's name in red ink is a big no-no; it signifies blood and death.
In Germany when someone is sick, they open all of the windows despite the weather. Seems that breathing in their own sick air was far more dangerous than being exposed to freezing weather.
In Hawaii it is bad luck to take any black sand, lava, or coral off of any of the islands or beware the wrath of Pele (The Fire Goddess).
In Taiwan, it is bad luck to point at a cemetery.
In Greece, people tend to carry in their wallet a little bone of a bat, since it's believed to protect from the evil eye of dangerous spirits.
In UK, not one Englishman will open his umbrella near the door or will put his new shoes on the table.
Italians think you're lucky to hear a cat sneezing. If an Italian sees a nun, he will seek to touch a metal, so that the luck doesn't leave him.
In Russia, when a cat, especially a black one, crosses your pass, its bad luck, and I've actually seen people try to shoo them off or run ahead of them.
In Moldova if you accidentally hit with your head your friends head you have to hit it the second time or someone will die in the family.
In China brooms are given special attention. They believe each broom has a spirit inside, that's why you have to use it carefully. Hitting someone with a broom means a curse. Also in China when someone's dying, don’t ever stand at the foot of the body because that’s the path the spirit takes to leave the body -if you're in its way, it might go into you.
Japanese are afraid to be photographed in three. The one from the middle is expected to die.
And finally, in Ireland, an old horseshoe can be nailed above a doorway for good luck - you can often see them on old cottages and farmhouses.
So basically, if you happen to be walking under a ladder while holding an open umbrella, kicking over salt and breaking a mirror on a black cat because you sneezed 13 times, you should throw the salt over your left shoulder on a moonlit night, while burying the broken mirror and holding your thumb between your fingers yelling “Bless you” all the way home.
Catching Zzzzzzs
This year I was persuaded by my family that I should join the journalism class in my high school. I was reluctant at first, and sure dragged my feet about it. My logic was that I didn't want to write about new, I wanted to write about fiction. I was both right and wrong. I was put into the Editorials section on the newspaper, meaning I am able to write about anything I want. Luckily that means I do not have to write about news :P I have to give credits to my parents for pushing me to join journalism because I really love it so far. I will be posting my articles on this sight if you wish to read them. Thank You!
Catching Zzzzzzs
By: Megan Young
How many times have you sat in class and thought Oh I’ll just rest my eyes, and next thing you know, there is an angry teacher standing above you and the only thing you remember about the past hour is the dream you had? This is most likely an effect of insomnia, or sleep deprivation, causing you to feel drowsy and sluggish during the day.
Symptoms of sleep deprivation include having trouble falling asleep, tossing and turning, waiting to fall asleep for long periods of time, and being unable to get things done during the daytime. It may also limit your ability to learn, listen, concentrate and solve problems. You may even forget important information like names, numbers, your homework or a date with a special person in your life. Lack of sleep may even cause overeating or weight gain, because you're more likely to have midnight binges.
You may not know it, but your body is constantly active, even when you are asleep. As you drift off into unconsciousness, your body goes to work, repairing damages caused by stress, recharging your brain, allowing you to grow, and even balancing your bodily chemicals. Every part of the body is affected - the brain, nervous and immune systems, heart, lungs – and the list goes on.
Many high school students need an alarm clock or a parent to wake them on school days. They are like zombies getting ready for school, and find it hard to be alert and pay attention in class. This could possibly affect your grades and awareness during class. Everyone needs different amounts of sleep, depending on their age. Teenagers need about eight to ten hours to function properly. Even people who claim they need no sleep at all will take the occasional five to ten minute naps during the day. Believe it or not, a person can take a cat nap with their eyes open. Unless under direct medical supervision, they may be unaware they are sleeping.
Experts say one of the most alluring distractions from sleep is the Internet. There is also stress, depression, anxiety, lack of regular exercise, and chemical stimulants such as caffeine. These distractions could lead to side effects which could be harmful, or even life threatening. If you do not get the correct amount of sleep, your immune system will weaken, causing you to be more prone to illnesses. A survey conducted by the American Cancer Society concluded that people who sleep for less than six hours, or those who sleep for more than nine hours, had a death rate approximately 30 percent higher than those who regularly slept seven to eight hours. Sleep deprivation is even more fatal than hunger; it takes two weeks to starve, but only ten days without sleep can kill you.
Tired drivers are more dangerous than drunk drivers. For example, a driver who has been awake for seventeen hours performs similarly to a driver with a blood alcohol content of 0.08%. There are over 100,000 car accidents a year that are caused by the driver either falling asleep at the wheel, or being too tired to react quickly or have full concentration on the road.
There are many things you are able to do to prevent sleep deprivation. You can establish a set time to go to bed and wake up. A regular sleep schedule will help you feel less tired during the day, as your body adjusts to its natural patterns. Do not eat, drink, or exercise within a few hours of your bedtime. Reduce the amount of time you spend on the computer or in front of the television on weekdays. Most importantly, do not procrastinate on your homework until the last minute and stay up to finish it. This is one of the main reasons high school students do not get enough sleep.
As you can see, sleep deprivation and its effects are a very common and serious problem. I advise you to take these suggestions to heart and remember to manage your time to include the healthy amount of sleep into your night.
Catching Zzzzzzs
By: Megan Young
How many times have you sat in class and thought Oh I’ll just rest my eyes, and next thing you know, there is an angry teacher standing above you and the only thing you remember about the past hour is the dream you had? This is most likely an effect of insomnia, or sleep deprivation, causing you to feel drowsy and sluggish during the day.
Symptoms of sleep deprivation include having trouble falling asleep, tossing and turning, waiting to fall asleep for long periods of time, and being unable to get things done during the daytime. It may also limit your ability to learn, listen, concentrate and solve problems. You may even forget important information like names, numbers, your homework or a date with a special person in your life. Lack of sleep may even cause overeating or weight gain, because you're more likely to have midnight binges.
You may not know it, but your body is constantly active, even when you are asleep. As you drift off into unconsciousness, your body goes to work, repairing damages caused by stress, recharging your brain, allowing you to grow, and even balancing your bodily chemicals. Every part of the body is affected - the brain, nervous and immune systems, heart, lungs – and the list goes on.
Many high school students need an alarm clock or a parent to wake them on school days. They are like zombies getting ready for school, and find it hard to be alert and pay attention in class. This could possibly affect your grades and awareness during class. Everyone needs different amounts of sleep, depending on their age. Teenagers need about eight to ten hours to function properly. Even people who claim they need no sleep at all will take the occasional five to ten minute naps during the day. Believe it or not, a person can take a cat nap with their eyes open. Unless under direct medical supervision, they may be unaware they are sleeping.
Experts say one of the most alluring distractions from sleep is the Internet. There is also stress, depression, anxiety, lack of regular exercise, and chemical stimulants such as caffeine. These distractions could lead to side effects which could be harmful, or even life threatening. If you do not get the correct amount of sleep, your immune system will weaken, causing you to be more prone to illnesses. A survey conducted by the American Cancer Society concluded that people who sleep for less than six hours, or those who sleep for more than nine hours, had a death rate approximately 30 percent higher than those who regularly slept seven to eight hours. Sleep deprivation is even more fatal than hunger; it takes two weeks to starve, but only ten days without sleep can kill you.
Tired drivers are more dangerous than drunk drivers. For example, a driver who has been awake for seventeen hours performs similarly to a driver with a blood alcohol content of 0.08%. There are over 100,000 car accidents a year that are caused by the driver either falling asleep at the wheel, or being too tired to react quickly or have full concentration on the road.
There are many things you are able to do to prevent sleep deprivation. You can establish a set time to go to bed and wake up. A regular sleep schedule will help you feel less tired during the day, as your body adjusts to its natural patterns. Do not eat, drink, or exercise within a few hours of your bedtime. Reduce the amount of time you spend on the computer or in front of the television on weekdays. Most importantly, do not procrastinate on your homework until the last minute and stay up to finish it. This is one of the main reasons high school students do not get enough sleep.
As you can see, sleep deprivation and its effects are a very common and serious problem. I advise you to take these suggestions to heart and remember to manage your time to include the healthy amount of sleep into your night.
A Trip of Secrecy
I recently had to write an important childhood memory from first person for my english class. Sounds easy right? Well the trick was you were not able to ask anyone else about them memory, you had to write it the way you remember it, whether it was accurate or not. The memory I chose to write about was when my parents took up on a surprise trip, and what was going on in my mind when they would not tell us where. As always I hope you enjoy!
A trip of Secrecy
By: Megan Young
As I sat on the large blue couch that stretched across our living room, I couldn't help but wonder why I watched these television shows. I never understood what was going on or why a crowd of laughter came from the black box when there was no one around. I just loved the adult shows because they made me feel grown up, like my older sister, and not only six.
Picking at a loose string on the couch, I wondered if I’d ever end up like her, she was my role model in every way and I wished to be her sometimes. My attention was draw to my mother as she gradually made her way downstairs to meet me. My mommy was beautiful and nice, she would tell me she loved me every day and would give me hugs for no reason. I paused the television, seeing she was getting ready to speak to me, and listened for what she wanted. She seemed happier than usual and had a hint of nervousness to top it off. “Megan,” she spoke calmly “Your dad and I want to talk to you and Andrea, come on upstairs.” She said, practically pulling me from my perch.
Upstairs I found my dad and sister sitting at the kitchen table, daddy was smiling like a madman and Andrea looked just as confused as I felt. Once mom and I made our way to the seats, my parents sighed in unison and told us what the big news was. “We are taking a surprise trip. We’ll be leaving tomorrow around 7am and driving all day, so you better hurry and pack all of your things” they said. Naturally Andrea and I were confused at this sudden plan and waited for further explanation. After a long silence, we realized we weren’t going to get one so Andrea bravely asked, “Where are we going?” Then my parents’ smiles grew larger and replied with a simple “It’s a surprise” and hurried us off to our rooms to pack.
I was more confused than before. A secret trip? Where were we going? How was I supposed to pack for a trip when I didn’t know anything about it? Finally deciding to pack anything I could possibly need, shorts, jeans, sweaters, t-shirts, and of course my infamous “rolly sneakers”. Once I was finished stuffing my bag of random objects, I paddled my way to my sisters’ room, hoping she could explain what was going on. After all, she knew everything. Approaching her closed door, my mind wandered to the secret trip, maybe my parents were spies and we had to suddenly move because the bad guys found us. Wasn’t real life just like the movies? I didn’t know.
Pulling the handle on my sisters’ door, I walked inside to find her stumped in front of a suitcase. “What did you pack?” she asked, fingering the zipper on her case. “Everything” I answered honestly, I wasn’t sure what had made it into our bags. I sat for a minute on her bed while she ran around the room like the Tasmanian devil exposed to coffee for the first time.
After a moment of hesitation I couldn’t help but ask the most important question “Where do you think we are going?” She didn’t miss a step before answering with an “I don’t know, but I like not knowing” my eyes snapped up at her. She liked not knowing? I thought she was crazy, not like murderer crazy, but just someone missing a few plugs. How could she like being kept in the dark about something as awesome as a secret trip? Isn’t she just bursting at the seams with curiosity just like me? Looking back at her content form, I decided no, she wasn’t as impatient as I, not even close.
That night after dinner I snuck into my sisters’ room. We were used to this, sneaking into each other rooms late at night, telling our parents we had a nightmare. Of course we didn’t have nightmares every night, but we just loved spending the night with each other, like a sleepover that happened every night. We would stay up really late, and I mean late, sometimes passed 10! During those late night hours we would build forts out of pillows and stuffed animals and play ‘Go Fish’ under the cover of our new creation. We would use our plastic yellow flash light and tell each other stories, sometimes using the shadows to emphasize our point. Only when our eyes would droop into slits, would we turn off our flashlight and call it a night, slipping into unknown dreams of our own.
We woke the next to the ‘Lion King’ soundtrack playing over the speakers. Dad. When my dad wanted to wake us up and he was in a really good mood, he would play that soundtrack as a morning call. ‘Lion King’ meant a good day, and I love good days. Of course, who doesn’t?
After a quick breakfast, we loaded our bags into the car and started the long journey to a secret place. We drove for what seemed to be forever, sitting in the car, watching our favorite movies and adding life to coloring books. Only when we were stopped by some man in a strange booth did Andrea and I pay attention to the outside world. He was dressed in a yellow and white striped outfit and standing next to a sign that read “Parking $5”
Once we handed him the needed amount, he pointed us to a huge parking lot with a gazillion people! Everyone was with a group of people and many people had camera hanging around their necks. I looked for a sign, anything to hint where I was, but there was none. All I saw were people hurrying to a gated area near the left side of the lot. I wanted to follow; someone near that gate would have my answer.
My dad aimed the car to a nearby parking space which went right passed the mysterious gate, now was my chance. “Look girls” dad said, pointing to a sign overhead, the sign that would finally give me my answer, and start one of the best memories I owned. A sign that read “Welcome to Sea World, Adventure Park in Orlando Florida”
A trip of Secrecy
By: Megan Young
As I sat on the large blue couch that stretched across our living room, I couldn't help but wonder why I watched these television shows. I never understood what was going on or why a crowd of laughter came from the black box when there was no one around. I just loved the adult shows because they made me feel grown up, like my older sister, and not only six.
Picking at a loose string on the couch, I wondered if I’d ever end up like her, she was my role model in every way and I wished to be her sometimes. My attention was draw to my mother as she gradually made her way downstairs to meet me. My mommy was beautiful and nice, she would tell me she loved me every day and would give me hugs for no reason. I paused the television, seeing she was getting ready to speak to me, and listened for what she wanted. She seemed happier than usual and had a hint of nervousness to top it off. “Megan,” she spoke calmly “Your dad and I want to talk to you and Andrea, come on upstairs.” She said, practically pulling me from my perch.
Upstairs I found my dad and sister sitting at the kitchen table, daddy was smiling like a madman and Andrea looked just as confused as I felt. Once mom and I made our way to the seats, my parents sighed in unison and told us what the big news was. “We are taking a surprise trip. We’ll be leaving tomorrow around 7am and driving all day, so you better hurry and pack all of your things” they said. Naturally Andrea and I were confused at this sudden plan and waited for further explanation. After a long silence, we realized we weren’t going to get one so Andrea bravely asked, “Where are we going?” Then my parents’ smiles grew larger and replied with a simple “It’s a surprise” and hurried us off to our rooms to pack.
I was more confused than before. A secret trip? Where were we going? How was I supposed to pack for a trip when I didn’t know anything about it? Finally deciding to pack anything I could possibly need, shorts, jeans, sweaters, t-shirts, and of course my infamous “rolly sneakers”. Once I was finished stuffing my bag of random objects, I paddled my way to my sisters’ room, hoping she could explain what was going on. After all, she knew everything. Approaching her closed door, my mind wandered to the secret trip, maybe my parents were spies and we had to suddenly move because the bad guys found us. Wasn’t real life just like the movies? I didn’t know.
Pulling the handle on my sisters’ door, I walked inside to find her stumped in front of a suitcase. “What did you pack?” she asked, fingering the zipper on her case. “Everything” I answered honestly, I wasn’t sure what had made it into our bags. I sat for a minute on her bed while she ran around the room like the Tasmanian devil exposed to coffee for the first time.
After a moment of hesitation I couldn’t help but ask the most important question “Where do you think we are going?” She didn’t miss a step before answering with an “I don’t know, but I like not knowing” my eyes snapped up at her. She liked not knowing? I thought she was crazy, not like murderer crazy, but just someone missing a few plugs. How could she like being kept in the dark about something as awesome as a secret trip? Isn’t she just bursting at the seams with curiosity just like me? Looking back at her content form, I decided no, she wasn’t as impatient as I, not even close.
That night after dinner I snuck into my sisters’ room. We were used to this, sneaking into each other rooms late at night, telling our parents we had a nightmare. Of course we didn’t have nightmares every night, but we just loved spending the night with each other, like a sleepover that happened every night. We would stay up really late, and I mean late, sometimes passed 10! During those late night hours we would build forts out of pillows and stuffed animals and play ‘Go Fish’ under the cover of our new creation. We would use our plastic yellow flash light and tell each other stories, sometimes using the shadows to emphasize our point. Only when our eyes would droop into slits, would we turn off our flashlight and call it a night, slipping into unknown dreams of our own.
We woke the next to the ‘Lion King’ soundtrack playing over the speakers. Dad. When my dad wanted to wake us up and he was in a really good mood, he would play that soundtrack as a morning call. ‘Lion King’ meant a good day, and I love good days. Of course, who doesn’t?
After a quick breakfast, we loaded our bags into the car and started the long journey to a secret place. We drove for what seemed to be forever, sitting in the car, watching our favorite movies and adding life to coloring books. Only when we were stopped by some man in a strange booth did Andrea and I pay attention to the outside world. He was dressed in a yellow and white striped outfit and standing next to a sign that read “Parking $5”
Once we handed him the needed amount, he pointed us to a huge parking lot with a gazillion people! Everyone was with a group of people and many people had camera hanging around their necks. I looked for a sign, anything to hint where I was, but there was none. All I saw were people hurrying to a gated area near the left side of the lot. I wanted to follow; someone near that gate would have my answer.
My dad aimed the car to a nearby parking space which went right passed the mysterious gate, now was my chance. “Look girls” dad said, pointing to a sign overhead, the sign that would finally give me my answer, and start one of the best memories I owned. A sign that read “Welcome to Sea World, Adventure Park in Orlando Florida”
Friday, April 29, 2011
Bruciare Tela
This was actually a poem I had to write for my art class that went with a huge project. I decided since I havent written anything in a while, my followers deserve something to keep them entertained. I know it isn't much, but I am in the middle of writing something, that sadly I am debating whether or not to finish for reasons that it may hit a little to close to home for some of you. Though I will probably end up finishing it soon, seeing as I am going to have a 'chill weekend' as my friends call it. Anyways, the poem is about what I hope to convey in my writing and in my readers. The title actually means "Burning Canvas" in italian, which makes sense if you knew the project. So I hope you like it :) Please leave me comments, this is the first poem I have written since I was in middle school, and those werent good enough to make it public. :)
Bruciare Tela
Fire within my soul burns with the passion of my being.
The creator of my infinite world rests between my steady fingers,
Waiting with baited breath to fulfill its purpose,
To scrawl the right combination of words
Across a lonely blank page, longing to be filled
Images illuminate the minds of the viewers
Hearts bleed crimson and eyes spill emotions who try to hide.
Forget the reality of the conscious circle
Close those eyes that see too much hate
And open them to new world of wonder and possibility
Unlock your heart to the passion I implant
And allow yourself to feel for the first time
Bruciare Tela
Fire within my soul burns with the passion of my being.
The creator of my infinite world rests between my steady fingers,
Waiting with baited breath to fulfill its purpose,
To scrawl the right combination of words
Across a lonely blank page, longing to be filled
Images illuminate the minds of the viewers
Hearts bleed crimson and eyes spill emotions who try to hide.
Forget the reality of the conscious circle
Close those eyes that see too much hate
And open them to new world of wonder and possibility
Unlock your heart to the passion I implant
And allow yourself to feel for the first time
Monday, January 10, 2011
Broken Remains
okayyy... so I understand I have not Written in a LONG time, its just been crazy with school and traveling, and not to mention studying for finals this week. Anyways I apologize for the wait and am happy to inform you I will (Hopefully) be posting much sooner from now on. Now, this story is one I wrote in 2009 (ninth Grade) and I wanted to re-write it to fit my new style. Its kind of sappy and I once again apologize if you dont like that sort of genera. I hope you Enjoy, as always. Love you!
Broken Remains
Written by Megan Young
The fog was so thick this time of night, I could hardly see the spindling branches of the trees above. The hard gray gravestone was cold as ice and there were little chips in it where it had been bumped or scraped. My long brown hair was blowing in the light wind and my knees were sinking in the soft mud where I had knelt before him. With trembling fingers, I brushed down and traced the letters on the headstone. Barely touching it, I ran my rough fingertips over the words “Jake Paulmer, Beloved, 1993-2010.” I blinked at the tears that suddenly filled my eyes as memories came rushing back, feeling the pain I had pushed and buried until every fiber was numb. I remembered Jakes face perfectly, his dark brown eyes, his stunning smile and perfect white teeth, his amazing dark brown hair that grew so it swept just above his eyes, everything. I remembered all the times he said he loved me. All the times he would tell me he would keep me safe, when I couldn’t do the same for him. The shock of this agonizing fact knocked me breathless, clutching my chest as if I could somehow dull the torture. I remembered the time he took me to see a horror movie, we sat in the middle row and he held me close. I was too scared to keep my eyes opened for more than two minutes. He wrapped his arms around me like an iron cage protecting a sacred treasure, and whisper in my ear “you're safe with me, I’ll never let you go.” My vision blurred, fading in and out, sometimes seeing his smiling face so real I could almost reach out and touch it, and other times seeing his abandoned cold gravestone that held no love, no forgiveness. My memories switched so quickly, uncontrollably flashing images of my past. A beach consumed my thoughts and I instantly know what memory is digging itself up, clawing at every move I make to push it deeper. Losing the battle, I see us, We walked along the sand for hours just talking, letting the water lick at our toes. Wet sand forced itself between my toes as our weight penetrated its surface. The sun was just setting over the water when he took my hand and pulled me close. Slipping his broad hand inside his pocket, he revealed a beautiful heart-shaped necklace and on its face our initials shown like bleeding paint. He put it on me with his warm hands and leaned so close to my face, his breath blew my nose. He said, “I love you more than anything in this world, I couldn’t live without you” and he bent down to kiss me. His lips were as warm as my cheeks felt. The sun setting over the water, the sand between our toes, it was the perfect first kiss.
The edges of my vision became hazy and vanished all together. I reached up to my neck to touch the same necklace Jake had given me almost two years ago. Our initials still engraved as clearly as the day it was made. It rested on my black shirt that pulled down below my waist. Digging my broken nails into the moist earth I endured the painful squeeze tugging around my heart. I gasped for air that my lungs could not hold, wishing, hoping, and praying that I held the power to impede the merciless imagery. I couldn’t help wondering if this is what death felt like, secretly wishing that was in fact the case, to escape this world of cruelty, leave it behind and to be placed next to Jake forever, six feet underground. My morbid thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind and someone call “Young lady” in a raspy voice, “What are you doing here so late?” I turned to see a very old man standing only a few yards away. “Sorry” I called back raising to stand next to the hollow gravestone just wanted to visit”. The old man looked at me with an apprehensive expression. He had a lantern in one hand and his other was over his eyes as if too se me clearly. The old jeans he wore had holes in the knees and were covered with dirt. Alight brown shirt clung to his chest like a second skin and on top of his balding head, laid a matching hat that stopped just above his wrinkling ears. His boots were a darker brown and covered with a fresh coat of mud. His hair was white and he had a little bit of a beard growing on his chin, bobbing with each word. “What’s your name?” he asked squinting his eyes as if to see me clearly, hoping to see the truth in my eyes instead of blindly trusting.
“Jennifer” I replied, digging my heel into the rich soil beneath it. “Well Jennifer,” he said in a stern voice “you best be getting home now, it’s late and you never know what danger is out there.” My laugh was humorless and dead, I knew exactly what was out there, there are drunk drivers, like the one who killed Jake a few blocks from my house. I knew what horrible, careless people were lurking out there. He shifted his weight, waiting for an answer. So I just nodded and thanked him giving him my best smile, which most likely appeared less than friendly. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked past him, towards the cemetery gates.
On my way home I replayed that dreadful night. Jake and I were in his car listening to his crappy radio, the one I begged a million times to get it fixed, seeing as the static was louder than the current song. One moment we were singing along to the music, and the next, blinding lights shown through the windshield as a trusk sped towards Jakes’ side of the car. I remember his gorgeous face as he looked at me and whispered my name for the last time. I remember trying to reach out and touch his cheek before it was gone. I woke in a bright room three weeks later from a horrible coma. All of my friends and family surrounding me as my eyes slowly fluttered open. I only had one question on my mind. “Is Jake okay?” I asked. No answer. I repeated the question “Is Jake okay?” “Is Jake okay?” So many people in the room and not one of them would answer me. They would just look at my torn face and cried, from their grief or my own I didn’t know. That was enough. I knew my answer. Jake was gone. My eyes here blurry as tears streaked down my cheeks and I gasped for air that would not soothe the burning of my throat. There was a loud screaming from someone close by; I didn’t realize it was me until my mom started telling me to calm down. A nurse ran into the room with a needle in hand, she injected Haldol into my arm. In one instant, my whole world went black.
The pavement beneath my feet grew wet from light rainfall. Cars passing silently made reflections on the black streets. My bright red scarf flew in the air dancing with my tangled brown hair. The moons glow was the only form of light on this dark, damp saunter. I was walking towards nothing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, totally numb to all senses. The beating of my aching heart was the only sound I heard. The sound of my name being called released me from my trance. “Jen!” I recognized that voice. Emily. I turned around to see a white jeep slowly coming to a stop beside me. A girls’ head hanging out of the passenger window, her blonde wavy hair blowing behind her in furious interweavings. A worried look was painted on her beautiful face as she closed in on me. “What are you doing?” she asked while getting out of the car, slamming the door behind her. I caught a glimpse of Adam in the drivers’ seat staring at me with worried blue eyes. I wiped my tears the best I could before I spoke. “Hey Emily” I said with fake excitement, though I see she is not in the least convinced. Adam and Emily have been ‘together’ for a year now, much to my desolation. Emily was my best friend; she would never let me be upset without a fight. “I’m just taking a walk” I replied to her unanswered question. “At two-forty seven in the morning?” she glanced at her watch as she spoke, stealing a glance at me through her eyelashes. “Jen” she said quietly when I didn’t answer “we all know where you go when the rest of us are asleep” I looked down at my feet, only to see a puddle with my reflection. The look on my face did not escape my notice, despair, and hopelessness. “I just miss him so much” My pulse gave a weak thud and I grasped at my clothes, tugging at the hem of my shirt. Emily’s sigh filled the dead silence, placing her hand upon my arm, she bore her eyes into mine. “We all do” she stated wearily, pulling me closer and hugging me tightly. We stood still as unvoiced statues for a few minutes before Adam spoke “Em” he called through the unrolled window, “we should go now, someone will be worried.” Emily nodded, pulling awake from my grasp “why don’t you stay with me tonight” she said in a quiet voice while she tucked my hair behind my ear. “Okay” my voice did not sound like my own, it was a foreign whisper even to my own ears. Emily hopped in the backseat with me and we sat in stillness as he started the car and drove down the road. Adams eyes stole glances up at us through the mirror every few minutes, no doubt checking on Emily. The cars headlights lit up the road ahead, throwing sparks and lighting the trees to the side causing them to yellow under the cover of the glow. “Jen?” I heard Emily ask beside me, shifting in her seat to get nearer. “Yes?” I replied looking up at her. Her face was barely lit by the blue screen on the radio, and shown blue squares in her big eyes. “ Are you okay?” she asked and I realized with horror I was crying. “I will be,” I answered, failing to sound strong.
We pulled into Emily’s driveway and I mumbled my goodbye to Adam. He bent down to kiss Emily and whispered something I could not hear. I turned away just a second too late. I thought my emotions were shot before, but know, I was barely able to stand. Emily walked away and turned to me, her face was bright red and she was biting her bottom lip. “Sorry” she muttered and swiftly walked inside the house, avoiding any comment from me. My parents were out of town for a month on, what they call, their “second honeymoon”. They took a trip to Italy, so they won’t notice if I didn’t come home, heck, I would be surprised if they noticed I even lived with them. Emily’s parents were always out of the house, no matter what time it is. They keep telling Emily they are shopping, or over at friends houses, but they always come home smelling of strong alcohol and cigarette smoke. Her house was huge, there was an oversized window in their living room, and a staircase leading, both, upstairs and down. Emily walked into the kitchen and I followed, she opened the cupboard door and stepped in. I heard bags crunching and cans dropping, and she soon emerged with an armful of junk food. Pushing past me and barreling up the stairs, she stepped into her room with me following suit. Her walls were painted white with dark blue curtains, never failing to remind me of those old sailor outfits. She had a huge window in her room that overlooked the lake they lived on. The trees surrounding the water were about twenty feet high and had bright yellow, red, and orange leaves. A queen-sized bed laid in her room that had dark blue sheets thrown over the top of them in an unorganized mess. There was a couch to one side and a table to the other corresponding each other. She had her dresser pushed against the wall opposite of her bed and above it rested a huge mirror. Her black and white cat, Patches, was sitting on her bed.
“Alright” Emily said as she picked up Patches and put her on the couch. “Eat anything” she dumped all of the food on the bed and sat beside her heaping pile. She had picked up all foods from chips to hard candies, and finally cupcakes. I picked up a strawberry lifesaver and popped it in my mouth, savoring the sweet taste. “So” she said casually “what color?” she held up many different colors of nail polish. I looked at them all and picked a dark red color in her right hand. It was Jakes favorite color, but Emily doesn’t need to know that. Emily picked up the paint bottle and took the brush out of it. I grabbed the remote to her silver stereo and pressed the power button. Emily was painting my second hand and allowing the first to dry. The radio station played “Three Days Grace”. Emily finished the second hand and then finally spoke again. “So Jen,” she said while picking up a chocolate chip cookie. “How do you want your hair done?” she took a bite of her cookie. “HAIR!?” I asked with shock. “What? What’s wrong?” she asked confused. “Nothing” I replied, trying to make the situation better, I thought my words through before I talked. “I’m… Just… really tired” I lied, even though I felt like I could run a mile without getting tired, wishing I was allowed to do just that, to feel my heart pumping erratically once again, exerting every ounce of treachery from my body. “Thanks for painting my nails, but can I go to sleep now?” I asked while picking up food from the bed, quickly tossing it to the dresser “Sure” she said still trying to understand why I was acting so weird, though already knowing all too much. I changed into some gray pajama pants and a lighter gray t-shirt, dull, colorless, me. I crawled under the covers and turned off the lights, glancing around the dark room, wishing to disappear altogether. Emily got in too and we both faced the direction opposite of each other without a word. I stared out her huge window into the darkness, watching the trees sway in rhythm. The moon was full and brighter than ever.
When I heard Emily’s’ soft snoring, I looked at the clock. Four-twenty eight. I slowly got out of bed and walked down the hall to the closest bathroom. Turning on the light, I face mirror, its sleek surface calling to me like silver velvet. In the mirror, I didn’t see me, I saw some sad girl with drooping eyes that had huge dark circles under them. She was frowning and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, small strands escaping their hold and sweeping in front of her face. Her nails were painted with a fresh coat of dark red nail polish and her gray pajamas were baggy and had holes in them from long wear. I lifted my hand to touch her agonized face and she did the same mimicking me exactly. Our hands met and I pulled back by the touch of her ice-cold fingertips. She did the same. We both bent down and splashed water on our faces. The water was so cool and refreshing, washing away the grime from the graveyard. I pulled the tan towel off the rack and dried my face, dabbing my raw skin with the soft fabric. I then walked downstairs as quietly as possible, passing the clock on my way out of the door. Five-thirteen. I blindly guided myself outside to the front porch with slow jerky motions. There was a swinging bench next to the front door, and huge white pillars a few feet in front of it, sliding down onto he bench, I let all of my tense muscles relax into the pale wood. The freezing bricks stung my bare feet as I pushed off the ground swinging the bench backwards, creaking as it did so.
The moons glow was so glorious; I could see every detail without turning a light on. My body did not complain about the earliness of the day, I had been use to it in the days that shall never return. I used to wait until my parents were asleep and run outside to my front yard. Jake would always be waiting for me, and I would run into his arms and bury my face in his chest, he always smelled so good. He would set his warm cheek against the top of my head and whisper, “It’s amazing how my world seems to die when you’re not around.” I felt my heart swell at his loving words, but it wasn't painful, and I couldn't stop the smile from melting across my face. We would sit in the grass and watch the stars. Once we even fell asleep out in the lawn and woke with the sun blinding our eyes and fresh coat of dew on the grass. We would sit and talk about the future. We both saw each other. One night we were laying back and a shooting star flew across the sky like a diamond on black paper. “Make a wish,” I said. He turned towards me and looked deep into my eyes and said “I already have everything I could ever ask for and more” I remember everything that night, the cool breeze on my face, my hair blowing lightly across his chest, the warmth of his hand in mine, his gorgeous face in the glow of the moon, my cheek pressed against his raising chest. No matter how long it will take for me to join him where he is now, I will never forget that moment.
I looked at my cell phone for the time. Seven-twenty three. The sun was starting to rise. The colors were beautiful, orange, pink and yellow, gracefully dancing, like paint flowing in water. I ran inside the house before anyone was awake, listening to the calming beat of me bare feet on hard wood floors. I sprinted up the stairs and got into bed without waking Emily. I gazed at the swaying trees outside until my eyelids slowly slid shut.
I dreamed about the last time I saw him. We were on the couch at his house watching the colors whip across the television in flashing motions. Jake was lying on the couch and I was lying in front of him. His broad hands wrapped around my stomach and his head was nestled in my neck. My attention was grabbed by the saddening movie, watching as despair fell upon these sorrowful characters. Jake looked at my face a wiped my tears away with his thumb. “Aw Jen” he said “Even when you cry, you’re still the most beautiful girl I know” I reached up to kiss him like a million times before. This kiss was different, It was more longing than any others. His lips crushed mine a little harder than his usual soft kiss. I pulled away wondering what changed. A long silence held its place and I wondered what he was thinking. “Jen” he said with a new seriousness to his voice. I looked up at him and he looked sad, his gorgeous chocolate colored eyes looked deep into mine, he looked at me like I was something more than me. His eyebrows pulled together on his forehead, creating a small crease in its place. His warm hand rose to my cheek and he rubbed his thumb against my face. “You know I love you right?” he asked. Of course I knew he loved me. He shows it every second we’re together. “I love you too” I replied, then moved closer to him so I could lean on his chest and place my head under his chin. “No Jen, I mean do you know how much I love you?” My thoughts escaped me, What a weird question to ask. “I think so” I said pretty confused. “Well,” he said hesitantly. “Have you ever thought of us,” he paused and his face looked torn, like he couldn’t decide to continue or not. “Getting married someday?” he asked finishing his question. My heart skipped a beat and my breathing ceased. Of course I had thought about it, but we never talked about it to each other. “What?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath. He just looked at me without a word. The only sound was our steady breathing and the slow piano music coming from the credits of the movie. “Yeah, I have” I said wondering what brought this conversation up. He raised his eyebrows “Well? What did you think?” he asked in a whisper. “I thought, it was very possible,” I said just as quiet. I could feel his chest rise and fall on my stomach as we faced each other. He looked down at our hands that were linked together and back at my face. “What if” he said and paused, his chest was still. He was holding his breath? “It’s more than possible?” He said releasing the air he held in his lungs, blowing my hair across my cheeks. What was he meaning? I was confused beyond words. “What do you mean?” I voiced my thoughts, allowing a crease to form between my eyebrows. He got off the couch, his hair brushed against my cheek as he passed over me. Pulling me off the couch with him, he took both of my hands and walked in front of me. The music was still playing, soft and relaxing. He looked deep in my eyes and slowly knelt down on one knee, never breaking his gaze. My heart beat faster as I slowly realized what was happening. He had an astounding smile on his beautiful face. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand, his own were warm and soft. I found his eyes, they had a certain spark of hope in them. “Jennifer Gates, I have loved you for two years and will love you forever, you are my life and I couldn’t bear to live without you. I don’t have a ring now, but I will. If I promise to keep you safe for all eternity, will you marry me?” I could feel a smile stretch across my face and tears streaming down my hot cheeks as I whispered the word that would change my life forever. Yes.
After an hour of talking and crying tears of joy, we decided that I needed to return home. He opened the door for me and said “Mrs. Paulmer” with a smile that could stop the earths orbit in a seconds time. I took his hand and he helped me in. “I like the sound of that” I said before he kissed me and closed the door. He got in the drivers seat and turned on the car, causing it to hum to life. Turning the small knob on his stereo it buzzed static louder than the song. Smiling at my new fiancée, I complained, once again about getting a new radio. The brilliant smile that melted against his face, he chuckled and took my hand, whispering, “I love you”. Then we started to drive down the road to my house. Only, we wouldn’t make it to my house.
“Jen! Jen! JENNIFER!! Wake up!” I woke to the sound of Emily’s frantic voice. “What?” I asked in a groggy tone. “Jen” she whispered looking at the ground, intertwining her hands in her lap. “You were screaming, and crying in your sleep” she looked at me with her hair draped over her eye. Tucking it behind her ear she gazed up at me. “I was?” I asked touching my face, only to feel wet tears. My throat was sore from what could only be, screaming. “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about.” I said. “Well it must have been bad” Emily touched my cheek to wipe away the remaining tears I had missed. In that one touch to my cheek, I remembered. I remembered the way Jake had touched my cheek, just as Emily was. I remembered my entire dream. New tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. “What’s wrong?” Emily cried in shock, reaching out to me, hoping to somehow stop the pain. I looked up with a red face. “Everything” I whispered in a broken voice.
*I know it ends in a weird place and it was supposed to be that way. It allows my readers to make up their own ending or to just leave it a mystery. I hope you were satisfied, and ask for you to leave ANY comments (good or bad)
Thank You for Reading
Megan J Young
Broken Remains
Written by Megan Young
The fog was so thick this time of night, I could hardly see the spindling branches of the trees above. The hard gray gravestone was cold as ice and there were little chips in it where it had been bumped or scraped. My long brown hair was blowing in the light wind and my knees were sinking in the soft mud where I had knelt before him. With trembling fingers, I brushed down and traced the letters on the headstone. Barely touching it, I ran my rough fingertips over the words “Jake Paulmer, Beloved, 1993-2010.” I blinked at the tears that suddenly filled my eyes as memories came rushing back, feeling the pain I had pushed and buried until every fiber was numb. I remembered Jakes face perfectly, his dark brown eyes, his stunning smile and perfect white teeth, his amazing dark brown hair that grew so it swept just above his eyes, everything. I remembered all the times he said he loved me. All the times he would tell me he would keep me safe, when I couldn’t do the same for him. The shock of this agonizing fact knocked me breathless, clutching my chest as if I could somehow dull the torture. I remembered the time he took me to see a horror movie, we sat in the middle row and he held me close. I was too scared to keep my eyes opened for more than two minutes. He wrapped his arms around me like an iron cage protecting a sacred treasure, and whisper in my ear “you're safe with me, I’ll never let you go.” My vision blurred, fading in and out, sometimes seeing his smiling face so real I could almost reach out and touch it, and other times seeing his abandoned cold gravestone that held no love, no forgiveness. My memories switched so quickly, uncontrollably flashing images of my past. A beach consumed my thoughts and I instantly know what memory is digging itself up, clawing at every move I make to push it deeper. Losing the battle, I see us, We walked along the sand for hours just talking, letting the water lick at our toes. Wet sand forced itself between my toes as our weight penetrated its surface. The sun was just setting over the water when he took my hand and pulled me close. Slipping his broad hand inside his pocket, he revealed a beautiful heart-shaped necklace and on its face our initials shown like bleeding paint. He put it on me with his warm hands and leaned so close to my face, his breath blew my nose. He said, “I love you more than anything in this world, I couldn’t live without you” and he bent down to kiss me. His lips were as warm as my cheeks felt. The sun setting over the water, the sand between our toes, it was the perfect first kiss.
The edges of my vision became hazy and vanished all together. I reached up to my neck to touch the same necklace Jake had given me almost two years ago. Our initials still engraved as clearly as the day it was made. It rested on my black shirt that pulled down below my waist. Digging my broken nails into the moist earth I endured the painful squeeze tugging around my heart. I gasped for air that my lungs could not hold, wishing, hoping, and praying that I held the power to impede the merciless imagery. I couldn’t help wondering if this is what death felt like, secretly wishing that was in fact the case, to escape this world of cruelty, leave it behind and to be placed next to Jake forever, six feet underground. My morbid thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind and someone call “Young lady” in a raspy voice, “What are you doing here so late?” I turned to see a very old man standing only a few yards away. “Sorry” I called back raising to stand next to the hollow gravestone just wanted to visit”. The old man looked at me with an apprehensive expression. He had a lantern in one hand and his other was over his eyes as if too se me clearly. The old jeans he wore had holes in the knees and were covered with dirt. Alight brown shirt clung to his chest like a second skin and on top of his balding head, laid a matching hat that stopped just above his wrinkling ears. His boots were a darker brown and covered with a fresh coat of mud. His hair was white and he had a little bit of a beard growing on his chin, bobbing with each word. “What’s your name?” he asked squinting his eyes as if to see me clearly, hoping to see the truth in my eyes instead of blindly trusting.
“Jennifer” I replied, digging my heel into the rich soil beneath it. “Well Jennifer,” he said in a stern voice “you best be getting home now, it’s late and you never know what danger is out there.” My laugh was humorless and dead, I knew exactly what was out there, there are drunk drivers, like the one who killed Jake a few blocks from my house. I knew what horrible, careless people were lurking out there. He shifted his weight, waiting for an answer. So I just nodded and thanked him giving him my best smile, which most likely appeared less than friendly. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked past him, towards the cemetery gates.
On my way home I replayed that dreadful night. Jake and I were in his car listening to his crappy radio, the one I begged a million times to get it fixed, seeing as the static was louder than the current song. One moment we were singing along to the music, and the next, blinding lights shown through the windshield as a trusk sped towards Jakes’ side of the car. I remember his gorgeous face as he looked at me and whispered my name for the last time. I remember trying to reach out and touch his cheek before it was gone. I woke in a bright room three weeks later from a horrible coma. All of my friends and family surrounding me as my eyes slowly fluttered open. I only had one question on my mind. “Is Jake okay?” I asked. No answer. I repeated the question “Is Jake okay?” “Is Jake okay?” So many people in the room and not one of them would answer me. They would just look at my torn face and cried, from their grief or my own I didn’t know. That was enough. I knew my answer. Jake was gone. My eyes here blurry as tears streaked down my cheeks and I gasped for air that would not soothe the burning of my throat. There was a loud screaming from someone close by; I didn’t realize it was me until my mom started telling me to calm down. A nurse ran into the room with a needle in hand, she injected Haldol into my arm. In one instant, my whole world went black.
The pavement beneath my feet grew wet from light rainfall. Cars passing silently made reflections on the black streets. My bright red scarf flew in the air dancing with my tangled brown hair. The moons glow was the only form of light on this dark, damp saunter. I was walking towards nothing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, totally numb to all senses. The beating of my aching heart was the only sound I heard. The sound of my name being called released me from my trance. “Jen!” I recognized that voice. Emily. I turned around to see a white jeep slowly coming to a stop beside me. A girls’ head hanging out of the passenger window, her blonde wavy hair blowing behind her in furious interweavings. A worried look was painted on her beautiful face as she closed in on me. “What are you doing?” she asked while getting out of the car, slamming the door behind her. I caught a glimpse of Adam in the drivers’ seat staring at me with worried blue eyes. I wiped my tears the best I could before I spoke. “Hey Emily” I said with fake excitement, though I see she is not in the least convinced. Adam and Emily have been ‘together’ for a year now, much to my desolation. Emily was my best friend; she would never let me be upset without a fight. “I’m just taking a walk” I replied to her unanswered question. “At two-forty seven in the morning?” she glanced at her watch as she spoke, stealing a glance at me through her eyelashes. “Jen” she said quietly when I didn’t answer “we all know where you go when the rest of us are asleep” I looked down at my feet, only to see a puddle with my reflection. The look on my face did not escape my notice, despair, and hopelessness. “I just miss him so much” My pulse gave a weak thud and I grasped at my clothes, tugging at the hem of my shirt. Emily’s sigh filled the dead silence, placing her hand upon my arm, she bore her eyes into mine. “We all do” she stated wearily, pulling me closer and hugging me tightly. We stood still as unvoiced statues for a few minutes before Adam spoke “Em” he called through the unrolled window, “we should go now, someone will be worried.” Emily nodded, pulling awake from my grasp “why don’t you stay with me tonight” she said in a quiet voice while she tucked my hair behind my ear. “Okay” my voice did not sound like my own, it was a foreign whisper even to my own ears. Emily hopped in the backseat with me and we sat in stillness as he started the car and drove down the road. Adams eyes stole glances up at us through the mirror every few minutes, no doubt checking on Emily. The cars headlights lit up the road ahead, throwing sparks and lighting the trees to the side causing them to yellow under the cover of the glow. “Jen?” I heard Emily ask beside me, shifting in her seat to get nearer. “Yes?” I replied looking up at her. Her face was barely lit by the blue screen on the radio, and shown blue squares in her big eyes. “ Are you okay?” she asked and I realized with horror I was crying. “I will be,” I answered, failing to sound strong.
We pulled into Emily’s driveway and I mumbled my goodbye to Adam. He bent down to kiss Emily and whispered something I could not hear. I turned away just a second too late. I thought my emotions were shot before, but know, I was barely able to stand. Emily walked away and turned to me, her face was bright red and she was biting her bottom lip. “Sorry” she muttered and swiftly walked inside the house, avoiding any comment from me. My parents were out of town for a month on, what they call, their “second honeymoon”. They took a trip to Italy, so they won’t notice if I didn’t come home, heck, I would be surprised if they noticed I even lived with them. Emily’s parents were always out of the house, no matter what time it is. They keep telling Emily they are shopping, or over at friends houses, but they always come home smelling of strong alcohol and cigarette smoke. Her house was huge, there was an oversized window in their living room, and a staircase leading, both, upstairs and down. Emily walked into the kitchen and I followed, she opened the cupboard door and stepped in. I heard bags crunching and cans dropping, and she soon emerged with an armful of junk food. Pushing past me and barreling up the stairs, she stepped into her room with me following suit. Her walls were painted white with dark blue curtains, never failing to remind me of those old sailor outfits. She had a huge window in her room that overlooked the lake they lived on. The trees surrounding the water were about twenty feet high and had bright yellow, red, and orange leaves. A queen-sized bed laid in her room that had dark blue sheets thrown over the top of them in an unorganized mess. There was a couch to one side and a table to the other corresponding each other. She had her dresser pushed against the wall opposite of her bed and above it rested a huge mirror. Her black and white cat, Patches, was sitting on her bed.
“Alright” Emily said as she picked up Patches and put her on the couch. “Eat anything” she dumped all of the food on the bed and sat beside her heaping pile. She had picked up all foods from chips to hard candies, and finally cupcakes. I picked up a strawberry lifesaver and popped it in my mouth, savoring the sweet taste. “So” she said casually “what color?” she held up many different colors of nail polish. I looked at them all and picked a dark red color in her right hand. It was Jakes favorite color, but Emily doesn’t need to know that. Emily picked up the paint bottle and took the brush out of it. I grabbed the remote to her silver stereo and pressed the power button. Emily was painting my second hand and allowing the first to dry. The radio station played “Three Days Grace”. Emily finished the second hand and then finally spoke again. “So Jen,” she said while picking up a chocolate chip cookie. “How do you want your hair done?” she took a bite of her cookie. “HAIR!?” I asked with shock. “What? What’s wrong?” she asked confused. “Nothing” I replied, trying to make the situation better, I thought my words through before I talked. “I’m… Just… really tired” I lied, even though I felt like I could run a mile without getting tired, wishing I was allowed to do just that, to feel my heart pumping erratically once again, exerting every ounce of treachery from my body. “Thanks for painting my nails, but can I go to sleep now?” I asked while picking up food from the bed, quickly tossing it to the dresser “Sure” she said still trying to understand why I was acting so weird, though already knowing all too much. I changed into some gray pajama pants and a lighter gray t-shirt, dull, colorless, me. I crawled under the covers and turned off the lights, glancing around the dark room, wishing to disappear altogether. Emily got in too and we both faced the direction opposite of each other without a word. I stared out her huge window into the darkness, watching the trees sway in rhythm. The moon was full and brighter than ever.
When I heard Emily’s’ soft snoring, I looked at the clock. Four-twenty eight. I slowly got out of bed and walked down the hall to the closest bathroom. Turning on the light, I face mirror, its sleek surface calling to me like silver velvet. In the mirror, I didn’t see me, I saw some sad girl with drooping eyes that had huge dark circles under them. She was frowning and her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, small strands escaping their hold and sweeping in front of her face. Her nails were painted with a fresh coat of dark red nail polish and her gray pajamas were baggy and had holes in them from long wear. I lifted my hand to touch her agonized face and she did the same mimicking me exactly. Our hands met and I pulled back by the touch of her ice-cold fingertips. She did the same. We both bent down and splashed water on our faces. The water was so cool and refreshing, washing away the grime from the graveyard. I pulled the tan towel off the rack and dried my face, dabbing my raw skin with the soft fabric. I then walked downstairs as quietly as possible, passing the clock on my way out of the door. Five-thirteen. I blindly guided myself outside to the front porch with slow jerky motions. There was a swinging bench next to the front door, and huge white pillars a few feet in front of it, sliding down onto he bench, I let all of my tense muscles relax into the pale wood. The freezing bricks stung my bare feet as I pushed off the ground swinging the bench backwards, creaking as it did so.
The moons glow was so glorious; I could see every detail without turning a light on. My body did not complain about the earliness of the day, I had been use to it in the days that shall never return. I used to wait until my parents were asleep and run outside to my front yard. Jake would always be waiting for me, and I would run into his arms and bury my face in his chest, he always smelled so good. He would set his warm cheek against the top of my head and whisper, “It’s amazing how my world seems to die when you’re not around.” I felt my heart swell at his loving words, but it wasn't painful, and I couldn't stop the smile from melting across my face. We would sit in the grass and watch the stars. Once we even fell asleep out in the lawn and woke with the sun blinding our eyes and fresh coat of dew on the grass. We would sit and talk about the future. We both saw each other. One night we were laying back and a shooting star flew across the sky like a diamond on black paper. “Make a wish,” I said. He turned towards me and looked deep into my eyes and said “I already have everything I could ever ask for and more” I remember everything that night, the cool breeze on my face, my hair blowing lightly across his chest, the warmth of his hand in mine, his gorgeous face in the glow of the moon, my cheek pressed against his raising chest. No matter how long it will take for me to join him where he is now, I will never forget that moment.
I looked at my cell phone for the time. Seven-twenty three. The sun was starting to rise. The colors were beautiful, orange, pink and yellow, gracefully dancing, like paint flowing in water. I ran inside the house before anyone was awake, listening to the calming beat of me bare feet on hard wood floors. I sprinted up the stairs and got into bed without waking Emily. I gazed at the swaying trees outside until my eyelids slowly slid shut.
I dreamed about the last time I saw him. We were on the couch at his house watching the colors whip across the television in flashing motions. Jake was lying on the couch and I was lying in front of him. His broad hands wrapped around my stomach and his head was nestled in my neck. My attention was grabbed by the saddening movie, watching as despair fell upon these sorrowful characters. Jake looked at my face a wiped my tears away with his thumb. “Aw Jen” he said “Even when you cry, you’re still the most beautiful girl I know” I reached up to kiss him like a million times before. This kiss was different, It was more longing than any others. His lips crushed mine a little harder than his usual soft kiss. I pulled away wondering what changed. A long silence held its place and I wondered what he was thinking. “Jen” he said with a new seriousness to his voice. I looked up at him and he looked sad, his gorgeous chocolate colored eyes looked deep into mine, he looked at me like I was something more than me. His eyebrows pulled together on his forehead, creating a small crease in its place. His warm hand rose to my cheek and he rubbed his thumb against my face. “You know I love you right?” he asked. Of course I knew he loved me. He shows it every second we’re together. “I love you too” I replied, then moved closer to him so I could lean on his chest and place my head under his chin. “No Jen, I mean do you know how much I love you?” My thoughts escaped me, What a weird question to ask. “I think so” I said pretty confused. “Well,” he said hesitantly. “Have you ever thought of us,” he paused and his face looked torn, like he couldn’t decide to continue or not. “Getting married someday?” he asked finishing his question. My heart skipped a beat and my breathing ceased. Of course I had thought about it, but we never talked about it to each other. “What?” I asked, still trying to catch my breath. He just looked at me without a word. The only sound was our steady breathing and the slow piano music coming from the credits of the movie. “Yeah, I have” I said wondering what brought this conversation up. He raised his eyebrows “Well? What did you think?” he asked in a whisper. “I thought, it was very possible,” I said just as quiet. I could feel his chest rise and fall on my stomach as we faced each other. He looked down at our hands that were linked together and back at my face. “What if” he said and paused, his chest was still. He was holding his breath? “It’s more than possible?” He said releasing the air he held in his lungs, blowing my hair across my cheeks. What was he meaning? I was confused beyond words. “What do you mean?” I voiced my thoughts, allowing a crease to form between my eyebrows. He got off the couch, his hair brushed against my cheek as he passed over me. Pulling me off the couch with him, he took both of my hands and walked in front of me. The music was still playing, soft and relaxing. He looked deep in my eyes and slowly knelt down on one knee, never breaking his gaze. My heart beat faster as I slowly realized what was happening. He had an astounding smile on his beautiful face. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand, his own were warm and soft. I found his eyes, they had a certain spark of hope in them. “Jennifer Gates, I have loved you for two years and will love you forever, you are my life and I couldn’t bear to live without you. I don’t have a ring now, but I will. If I promise to keep you safe for all eternity, will you marry me?” I could feel a smile stretch across my face and tears streaming down my hot cheeks as I whispered the word that would change my life forever. Yes.
After an hour of talking and crying tears of joy, we decided that I needed to return home. He opened the door for me and said “Mrs. Paulmer” with a smile that could stop the earths orbit in a seconds time. I took his hand and he helped me in. “I like the sound of that” I said before he kissed me and closed the door. He got in the drivers seat and turned on the car, causing it to hum to life. Turning the small knob on his stereo it buzzed static louder than the song. Smiling at my new fiancée, I complained, once again about getting a new radio. The brilliant smile that melted against his face, he chuckled and took my hand, whispering, “I love you”. Then we started to drive down the road to my house. Only, we wouldn’t make it to my house.
“Jen! Jen! JENNIFER!! Wake up!” I woke to the sound of Emily’s frantic voice. “What?” I asked in a groggy tone. “Jen” she whispered looking at the ground, intertwining her hands in her lap. “You were screaming, and crying in your sleep” she looked at me with her hair draped over her eye. Tucking it behind her ear she gazed up at me. “I was?” I asked touching my face, only to feel wet tears. My throat was sore from what could only be, screaming. “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about.” I said. “Well it must have been bad” Emily touched my cheek to wipe away the remaining tears I had missed. In that one touch to my cheek, I remembered. I remembered the way Jake had touched my cheek, just as Emily was. I remembered my entire dream. New tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. “What’s wrong?” Emily cried in shock, reaching out to me, hoping to somehow stop the pain. I looked up with a red face. “Everything” I whispered in a broken voice.
*I know it ends in a weird place and it was supposed to be that way. It allows my readers to make up their own ending or to just leave it a mystery. I hope you were satisfied, and ask for you to leave ANY comments (good or bad)
Thank You for Reading
Megan J Young
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