A 5am Quote: Tragedy

“Most heroes or heroines have a tragic beginning… Most people suffer some sort of tragedy… All stories need forgiveness and the urge to push forward.”

Who runs really hot when they sleep? Well, this morning I woke up irritated from the heat and threw every blanket off the bed and as I laid there cooling down I kept having random thoughts about tragedy and pushing forward. I don’t know why. Eventually, I was cold and realized I’m an idiot for throwing the blankets so far from the bed. The blankets were recovered, but my mind wouldn’t be shushed, so now I’m up making a quote about tragedy. I hope you enjoy my restless brain at 5am.

The Petals of Life

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Red In Common

The Photo is from Tumblr

A petal falls, from the tuxedo pocket of a high school boy

A petal falls, from the wrist of a high school girl

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet of a late fiancé

a petal falls, from the bouquet of a smiling bride

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Twenty-two years of falling petals

A petal falls, from the plant in the waiting room

a petal falls, from the plant in the cancer specialist’s office

Petals have fallen and petals still fall

Two months of falling petals

A petal falls, from the bouquet on a hospital bedside tray

A petal falls, from a gripped fist onto the waiting dirt

Petals have fallen and petals still fall,

Tomorrow they will fall again

 

Cruelty of the Bracelet

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

Rings

How could he take his off? We all have to wear them. We are kept under surveillance around the clock, for “our safety of course”. The law for woman and men to wear the electronic bracelets went into effect many years ago before I was even born. It’s just a part of life for me, but for my grandma it is so much more. Every time we see her in the institution, she talks about the cruelty of the bracelet.

The bracelet always fits just right due to its resizing technology, so technically there’s no reason it should ever need to come off. Well, unless the bracelet happens to malfunction which I’ve never heard of happening.

That was until this morning when I saw Darian running into the forest. I thought he was up to another prank. It was a little soon, since we were both still on shavings clean-up for the rest of the week.  It was a harsh punishment, but I guess that’s what you get for sneaking into the generators to disable all power. I’m not even sure why I went along with such a prank. Usually he has a hilarious reason behind our escapades, but this last time he wouldn’t tell me any of the details. Well to be fair, he told me he was testing a theory and then he slid one of those wicked smiles on me. I know… I’m pretty dumb sometimes when it comes to Darian, but those smiles could probably make me run a mile and I hate running.

I stalked him for a while through the forest, but then he disappeared out of sight. I was trying to pick up his track when BAM something or someone really heavy charged me from the bushes. I ended up on my back, eyes squinted shut, hoping it wasn’t a hungry animal sitting on me. Until, I head a familiar voice.

“What are ya doing,” asked Darian.

My eyes snapped open and there he was looking down on me with a familiar grin.

“W-w-well I could ask you the same thing!”

“I’m running away.”

My heart stopped. Nobody leaves, ever. Nobody leaves because there’s nowhere to go and… My eyes slid to his right wrist. For all my life, sixteen and half years, there has been a blue bracelet with gold flecks on his right wrist.

“Yep,” he said. “They can’t stop me know.”

Haiku PLUS story about the Ocean, man-made structures, & S’mores

AnthropogenicA city awaits

the force of a rising tide.  

Our design won’t last.

I took this picture while visiting my mom on the Oregon Coast. My younger brother and I had walked away from the fire to find roasting sticks for s’mores when he shoved me and took off running. I was laughing and chasing him down when all of a sudden he jerked to a  stop and said, Look at this!” It was dark, but the light from the moon showed the outline of a massive city made out of stones. It was amazing! There was a wall between the taller stacked buildings and the shabbier ones located on the outskirts. My Photo doesn’t do the city justice, but you can get the idea. It took me four hours to build seven rock towers and maybe that’s because I was matching colors, but I know this took a lot of time and effort. My second thought was this is going to be gone when the tide comes in.

The Haiku is based around the idea of oceans rising and consuming land, therefor also wiping out man-made structures. The bigger idea is based on our design not lasting. Why would you spend so much time working on something that isn’t going to last even till tomorrow? The person who spent the time to build this could have been doing it for many reasons, boredom, stress relief, or to bring joy and excitement to others. Which spurs the idea of selflessness. So many thoughts because of someone’s simple act is a great thing.

Do you have anything to add or share? Feel free to do so in the comment area 🙂

Dealing With Loss….

Mother's poemMy mother’s warm house is now empty.

Her laugh, her laugh no longer rings throughout

my life, but I take comfort in the stars

A blanket of stars never meant so much,

but now they stand for all the times

giggles bounced off my bedroom walls, as

my squirming body was tucked in by 

by warn tired hands; my mother’s hands

Billions, no trillions of stars to

guide me, to show me the way

in dark uncertain times just as

my mother’s words have guided

me countless times before

Lastly, she had a smile that

brightened my life and I find

this too in the stars.

I look to the know blurry galaxy

and whisper, “Goodnight,

I love you mom.”

My co-worker lost her mother and “I’m sorry for your loss” didn’t seem like enough. Mother’s are so special and I can’t even imagine losing mine, so I made a poem for her. The poem is about finding comfort in the stars because they bring familiarity and remembrance of a mothers irreplaceable wonderful qualities. If you’ve lost your mother I hope you can also find her in some way.

Help from a pirate?

My eyes snapped open. It was early morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet, but the cell was lightening.  Someone was trying keys in my cell lock. I hadn’t been fully asleep. It was too cold to actually sleep. The mist rolling off the sea every night seemed to bruise my bones even further than the hard cobble stone ground. I was in a cell awaiting my verdict, I had no Idea where I was, and it didn’t matter because I didn’t even know who I was.

The cell door cracked open and in stepped a tall man. In one hand was a ring of keys and in the other a sword which left no room for a meal. It’s been two nights and three days since my last meal. The meal consisted of an onion potato watery broth and a small bread roll. They were trying to starve me or maybe they were just cruel.

Maybe he had come to take me to my death. My mind began to race with alternatives. Maybe I could plead for my life or maybe I could fight my way past him. I’m not sure how far I would get, but it would be better then not trying.

He walked into the dawn light and that’s when I stopped breathing. With a dirty long coat, high boots, and layering of a red sash around the waist, the man before me was a pirate.

He smiled or grimaced, I’m not sure, but it was probably because I was shocked to see he had all his teeth.  There were many toothless people running around these parts.

The pirate cleared his voice and said, “He was right ’bout ye, but if ye ready to be off now ’tis the hour.”

Who? Who knew about me, I woke up three weeks ago in this strange land with no memories. I didn’t know my own name and I was all alone.

“Who are you talking about?”

“We can speak ’bout that later. Right now we hurry or did ye want to die here?”

I raised my hands from my lap. The shackles clinked and slid down my raw forearms. “What about these,” I asked. The sun was beginning to rise and I could see his eyes were a jade green. He was good looking in this dim light, but as he got closer his stenches were overpowering. The dirt, grime, old booze, and faint smell of dried blood forced me to back up against the wall.

“Don’t be a-feared lass, I won’t hurt ye.”

“I’m not afraid, you just really smell.”

“If ’tis a problem I’d gladly just be off,” he said.

The things you put up with for food…and freedom. I raised the shackles again and he got to work. He also kept mumbling to himself. I think he said something about an ungrateful wench, but I wasn’t sure.

Chapter one~Part One.

So, I jumped the gun and poste a poorly written draft of this yesterday. I was just so excited to share this new idea, but the first draft was riddled with too much back story. I will try to be more patient in the future!

-Katie

An Unwanted Birthright

My weekly response to Ermilia’s weekly Picture it and write prompt.

fairy-in-forest

“Do you have to push so hard?” The branches were digging into my scalp. My sister had been working on my hair all morning and I wanted to scream out of frustration. The braiding and weaving was for the coronation that would take place today on my twentieth birthday.

“Don’t whine Lilium,” said my sister.

“Don’t call me that!”

“It’s your name, and you better get used to it,” She said.

My father was the only person who ever used my full name. I’m not embarrassed of my name. Most elves are named after things of nature. He told us my mother enjoyed flowers more than anything else in the forest and shortly after our births; she named me Lilium for my blond hair and for my younger sister’s red hair, my mother named her Dahlia. One of the few stories I have of her and us since she died when I was five and Dahlia had only been three. An incurable fever of the forest had taken her life.

It really wasn’t about my mother, because I don’t even remember her. It was because of last leaf fall. Colored leaves had just begun to fall when father had taken Dahlia and I out for a hunting trip. Along with forty of the finest royal guard, but that hadn’t stopped his death. Ambushes are swift and deadly. If he hadn’t given the order for our escape, we would have also died that day. I had wanted to stay, isn’t that what all those years of training had been for or were they so that we could run away, as our King, my father, fell to the muddy earth. I could still hear the way he shouted my name, as I argued. “GO LILIUUUM!”

“Lily, are you listening?” I had been staring out the window. Turning to the mirror in front of me I could see tears had fallen from my deceitful eyes. It had been a long time since I allowed myself to think about that horrid day.

“I’m sorry Lily,” she said.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Father’s death and the fact that we don’t know our mother, how am I going to rule our people, why couldn’t you have been born first?

“Nothing, It’s nothing. I’m only nervous.”

“Don’t lie to me, Lily,” She said. “You never cry, well in front of people anyways.” She looked down at her hands. I hadn’t even noticed, but my hair was complete. I was now ready. We would make our journey to the cresting hill where thousands of our alliances had gathered. When the sun begins to set, the ceremony will start and at last sun light I will take my vow to protect our people even at the cost of my own life.

“How do you know I can do this,” I asked.

Her eyes were shining emeralds in the mirror. “Because father always believed in you just as I do.”

Posted up in the emergency room

After the emergency room they move you upstairs
once they know you won’t die right away,
it’s always just better that way,

It’s 3am and the ambulance is still bringing guests in
well, tonight the place is booked like a five star hotel
I wish for once it was like a shanty run down motel.

The nurse just came in and informed us
we will be stuck with a curtain as a door
And old blood stains upon the floor

His Gurney was wet,
he was uncomfortable,
but the least of his worries was this small detail.

Dirt and blood stained the pristine white sheets
but soon to be gone
when the new bed could be retrieved.

Even the bed was one of their last.
Where is our ticket home you might ask?
Well, it comes with an x-ray at nine am.

Nine am is when we shall see
exactly how terrible the two holes in his lungs actually might be.
Nine am is when we shall see
exactly if he might need surgery on his wrecked right knee.

the nurse asks on a scale of one to ten,
but I believe the sale is unfitting
by my calculations, where I’m sitting-

11 for the broken leg,
5 at least for the broken rib
3 apiece for the two holes in the lungs

my addition is sound,
and to me,
22 it looks to be around.

This is a poem I’ve been working on for some time about my brother’s stay in the emergency room early this august. I sat by his side through the night in fear about his situation which magnified my frustration at the circumstances.

Locked out, dead phone, and the cops!?

You’ve got to be kidding me
.
I had closed my eyes and rested my head against the unyielding door. How could the key work in the dead bolt, but not the bottom lock? I didn’t know it was an actual possibility when the woman from Wal-Mart warned that sometimes keys don’t work and I needed to keep the receipt just in case.
.
My phone rang and I fished it out of my purse. The screen was dimmed and the red blinking light informed me the battery would soon die, great another problem. It was “Home” calling. Well home is two hours away, so they really couldn’t help me, but they could probably get a hold of someone that could.
.
“Hello,” my mom said.
“Hi mom, my phones dying and my spare key isn’t working, so I’m locked out. And I really have to go pee.” Sometimes I just blurt out everything I’m thinking in stressful situations or under the influence of major caffeine.
“Oh, do you want me to call your brother?”
“Yes, thank you.”
.
We hung up and I jingled, jimmied, and seriously begged God that the key would work this time. No luck.
.
My breath came out in puffs of white and I seriously regretted wearing a dress today. Even with thick tights, the cold air seeped in, as the night air dropped in degrees.
.
I bent down to collect the contents of my purse. I had dumped them all over the front porch searching for the other spare key. I had made two just in case I lost one in the future. It was probably sitting on the kitchen table where I left it.
.
I also threw my phone into the purse since it had died and headed to the curb. My brother would show up soon with the third key or my sister would show up to rescue me, again. I waited and waited, but after an eternity 20 minutes of waiting I thought I should make a phone call.
.
My downstairs neighbor’s car was parked at the curb and I could hear the TV, so I knocked on her door. I took a step back and prepared a speech, trying not to sound as stupid as I probably seemed, but she didn’t answer. Maybe she couldn’t hear, so I knocked a little louder, but still no answer.
.
I walked to the small complex across the street and played eeny, meeny, miny, moe with the doors. A middle aged woman answered the selected door in red pajama bottoms, a big doggy t-shirt, and pink slippers. Even though I was super angry I had a real smile on my face.
.
Explaining the situation, she let me in and I dialed the only two numbers I know by heart. The down side of having a cell phone is you don’t memorize numbers.
.
My sister didn’t pick up and I really didn’t want to bug my friend, but called anyways. She answered, but I could tell she had been sleeping, so I just told her I’d call her later.
.
The woman saw my frustration and was probably afraid for her phone in my angry hands, so she offered to plug in my cell phone.
.
I called my mom and she told me she thought I got in. Are you serious? If I didn’t call you back wouldn’t you be worried. I wanted to take all my frustrations out on her, but it wasn’t really her fault.
“What do you want me to do,” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Okay.”
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just in someone’s house and super frustrated. I’ll call you later.”
.
After hanging up with her, I called my sister again, but no answer, so I called her husband Kevin.
“Domino’s pizza”
“Kevin, I need to talk to Mary.”
“Mary? I don’t know who you’re talking about. Would you like to hear our specials?”
“Can you just give her the phone?”
“Is it an emergency because she’s reading to Emily?” Emily is my four year old niece.
“Yes, it’s an emergency.”
“You’re always in an emergency, how extreme is the emergency?”
“KEVIN!”
.
When I got off the phone with Mary, I declined the cup of tea from the serial killer nice neighbor, and went outside to wait for Kevin. She probably wasn’t dangerous in the least bit, but you never know.
.
I was waiting at the curb, again, when I noticed a man walking down the side walk. Great! I didn’t want any creepy conversation on top of everything else. Maybe he’d just walk bye. As he got closer, his outfit became familiar. GREAT, it was a cop.
.
He walked over to me and asked if I was knocking on the downstairs apartment. She called the cops, really? I guess her door doesn’t have a peep hole and she was a little scared. I should have called out to her, but I don’t even know what her name is. What was I going to say? Hey downstairs neighbor, it’s me your upstairs neighbor.
.
“Yes, I live upstairs,” I told the cop. I explained the situation, again. I hated tonight. The cold, the door, the neighbor, the four letter key, and especially Wal-Mart for giving it to me, but most of all I hated myself, for not trying it in the lock before I left my house this morning.
.
The cop waited with me until my brother-in-law, Kevin, the jokester, showed up. I think the cop was just bored. He probably thought it was going to be a bogus call and then had some adrenalin when he saw someone standing outside, and then became super bummed when he realized it was the idiot girl who lived upstairs.
.
He asked me about living in apartments, noisy neighbors, and the neighborhood. I think he was fishing for information about the last disturbance call made on this address, but that’s a different story.

Hello Followers!

Ocean

River meeting the ocean at low tide… 

It’s been a rough week. I’ve been traveling 2.5 hours back and forth to the coast to see my mom when possible. November is a hard month for me. I like to be close to her during this month due to a past tragedy. Even if I know it’s not going to happen again, the sickening fear still rises each year.

I missed the picture it and write prompt and have been slacking a little on my own personal writing since this has begun. I didn’t account for the fact that sometimes I don’t care for the picture provided for the weekly prompt. So in the future, if I don’t like the picture, I’ll post my own picture prompt.

Please bear with me and I will be up and typing again soon.

Thanks and have a great day!
-Katie