Close Your Eyes

     Close your eyes and count to ten,
he's never coming back again.

      You wish everything would disappear,
he'll forget he loves you in about a year.

     Close your eyes and forget for a while,
Stop showing them your meaningless smile.

     And when everyone asks whats going wrong,
Lie like you've been doing all along.

     Close your eyes and feel his skin,
Smell his clothes and love again.

      Kiss his lips and hold his hand,
Make something of this love unplanned.

     Never leave my side he cries,
You've counted to ten now open your eyes.

Tornado

     Heavy winds whipped through the air making the trees shake and scream for help. Their firm but fragile arms swayed back and forth and their leaves flipped and were pushed through the air if they weren't strong enough to hold on. The wind began to whip faster and stronger as he came closer to the buildings filled with many helpless people. Closer, closer, closer. The trees, grass, leaves, bugs, and birds all quivered with fear as he approached them. Their courage lessened as his grew more and he began to feel more powerful. He was a tornado. Everyone could tell he was coming because of the darkening clouds and prepared for the moment he ran into town and ruined everything the towns people had worked so hard for.

The checkered floor tiles

I sit down on the short stool and gaze at the strangely beautiful woman in a dress the shade of the ocean. She catches my eye so I quickly swing my head down to the floor and start to stare at the black and white checkered tiles. Staring too long at the floor I start to get dizzy and a small headache starts to form in the front of my head making my eyes water a little bit. I try and move my eyes away from the floor tiles that are making me feel sicker and sicker, but I can't. I am mesmerized by the look of the tiles and I can't move my eyes away from them. I feel my body start to sway on the short stool but the movement is too little for the lady in the blue dress to notice. I feel myself sway and lean too far to one side and I quickly catch myself with my right foot that slams onto the ground. The lady in the blue dress looks at me noticed something is wrong. She offers me a drink of water but I don't want her to think I am sick. I tell her everything is fine and she goes back to painting on the small canvas that she was painting on when I walked into the room. I try to think back to when I walked into the room but its seems like there is a brick wall behind my eyes that makes it impossible for my brain to see anything that my eyes are seeing. The lights slowly turn black and I feel myself fall onto the floor. The lights begin to fill my eyes again and I see that the lady in the blue dress is gone and has left her small canvas behind. I get up from the ground and when I touch my feet to the floor it feels as if the black and white checkered tiles are waving and covered in a thin layer of crystal clear water.

Advice

     "Good night, sleep tight, don't let the be bugs bite." My gram said to me as she kissed my forehead and sent met to bed. As I walked into my bedroom and got into my pajamas, I thought about bed bugs crawling all over me and biting me while I slept. After spraying my entire body with bug spray, I snuck into my bed as to not wake or disturb the bed bugs already sleeping under my blankets. Finally laying down in my bed, I slowly slid my petrified body under my blankets along with the bed bugs. All night I itched and thought about the bed bugs in my bed with me. I cried all night and in the morning I checked my legs, arms, and belly for little bites from the bed bugs.
    

End to Short Story

     When Cheyenne was done with her homework at about 7:45, the pre-prepared dinner that her mother threw in the microwave was ready to eat. They both got a medium sized dish from one of the cabinets and filled them with the noodle dinner as the apple pattern in the center of the plate quickly disappeared. They sat down at the circle shaped table in the middle of the room and ate quietly as the apple pattern slowly reappeared back on their plates. It had been almost a year and a half since her daddy past away. Back then things like dinner and life in general were enjoyable, now nothing was the same. No matter how much Cheyenne wished and preyed, her daddy would never come home like she wanted. She was stuck with her annoying mother, not a mom, momma, or mommy. Just a mother.
     Cheyenne's eyes started to fill with sadness and sorrow so she rushed to the sink to rinse off her plate before her emotions leaked onto her cheeks. She thanked her mother for dinner and made her way into her bedroom. She slammed the door and threw herself onto her twin sized bed. After crying for 15 minutes, she reached under her bed to find the box to her blue and black nike shoes that her daddy bought her. Opening the box, Cheyenne found many things she had kept from her daddy to look at when she wanted to. Looking at old pictures, tickets to baseball games, birthday cards and a necklace, the tears continued to slide down her freckled face.

Start to Short Story

     The creaky brown trees rocked back and forth as the man in the clouds let out a breath of relief. Cheyenne scooted across the sidewalk as scary black clouds ran through the sky and stood over her as the street darkened and became colder. When she finally reached her aged house, she pulled the shiny key from her pocket with a blue rubber grip around the top and pushed it into the tiny slit on her door and turned it until the door could be pushed open. Cheyenne walked into her living room and slid her blue and black Nike shoes off and sunk into the thick blueish grey carpet. She walked into the kitchen filled with cabinets, spices, and roosters and got a glass of milk from the refrigerator along with a thick stack of Oreo cookies. Throwing her petite body into the puffy deep green couch, she reached out her bracelet filled arm to grab the remote. With her right thumb, she pressed the blue power button that matched the blue nail polish smeared on all ten of her lanky fingers.
     Finding a t.v. show wasn't difficult, she always watched her favorite show, paranormal happenings, everyday at 3:30 when she got home from school. Her mother usually didn't get home until 6 or so from her job as a secretary down at the insurance agency so Cheyenne tried not to get too scared when watching her favorite show while she was home alone.
     She watched two episodes of her show each at a half an hour long and went to her room to start her homework. Flicking the flower covered light switch on, she noticed her mother had changed her bedding and left a note on the center of her pink covered pillow. "I'll probably be home a little later tonight honey, I need to stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things for the house. See you around 7. Love you muffin, Momma." The note was written in red pen on a piece of paper bordered by pictures of butterflies that were black and orange. Cheyenne thought to herself "Why would she out this on my bed and not the fridge? I can't stand her, shes so crazy." Cheyenne couldn't stand a single thing her mother did or said. She just wished her dad would come back home, he was the one she loved, not her mother.

Creative Writing

       The chill of the air bites our cheeks as we walk out of the yellow and green house, careful no to slam the door behind us. We leave the driveway through the hole in the perfect white picket fence and step together onto the sidewalk lining the street filled with cracks and pot holes. The light from the street lights gently glow down on her bright but beaten pink shoes, making it easier to see her path.
       Reaching the end of the sidewalk, her chucks meet the cold, rocky dirt as do mine. We pass through the field, trying to stay in her footprints while the rough crunch from the snow grabs as my ankles, biting me. We run. I watch her curly, twisty hair bounce and jump from the bun pulled to the back of her head as the arms of her jacket rub against her sides making a scratching noise that I can still hear over the heavy breathing that's in my head.