Chapter One, Part Two:
Hey Dad! If I catch a ladybug and never let it go, what will happen? Can I keep it? I smiled at him with shimmering eyes. He laughed and said if you want too, but let it go after you're playing it. I frowned. Why do I have to let it go? He held my hand with the ladybug in it, and said you have to let go of things in life that aren't important anymore. When you're older you'll realize what you have to hold on too and what you can't hold onto in life, okay? I was confused at what he said, but I let go of the ladybug because he told me too.
I woke up. I haven't dreamt of my father in a long time, not since I was 8 years old and now I'm 17. I looked over at my alarm clock and it read 12:30. CRAP! I'M GONNA BE LATE! I ran out of bed and threw on an old pair of darkwash jeans and a dusty green shirt. I grabbed my wallet, and sketchpad and threw it in my bookbag and headed out the door. As I ran down to the train station I accidentally tripped and fell. I hit my head hard against the cement and saw some blood splattered across the pavement. I groaned in pain. I am sensitive to cuts and bruises for some strange reason. My eyes began to blur. I don't know if it were from tears or from the loss of blood and then total blackout.
I woke up in someone's living room. It wasn't Karla's or Blaine's house. I turned my head to the right, I saw a man sitting there sleeping lightly. I was scared and as I got up I had bumped into the coffee table making a noise that woke up the guy. Oh my god, I'm so stupid. I woke up a possible murderer!!! I thought in my head.
"Wait." The guy had said. He had a a smoky tone to his voice. It was nice.
I stopped where I stood and turned around.
He walked toward me and grabbed my shoulders.
"Are you okay? You were unconscious when I found you on the street."
I tried to remember what had happened and sighed in aggravation. I had forgotten to meet up with Karla and Blaine.
"Ugh, I'm fine. Do you have my phone?" I rudely asked.
He stepped back. "Yeah I do, it's right here." He handed it to me.
I grabbed it and dialed Karla's number. She wasn't picking up her phone.
I threw my phone in my bag and sat back down on the couch. I put my head in my hands but I immediately reversed my actions because it hurt the cut on my forehead. The guy sat next to me.
"My name's Ian Wells." I looked at him. He had a rugged sort of look. His eyes were a grayish blue with brown wavy hair. He had some stubble against his cheek and a strone jawline. I wanted to paint a portrait of him. He was beautiful.
"My name's Adrianne Emilton. Call me Adri." I said in reply. I was still staring at his eyes.
He grinned. "That's a nice name. I like it."
I laughed and nodded in agreement. Gosh, I'm stupid. He's so cute and I'm the idiot with a bandage on my head. I thought to myself and grinned. My phone rang. It was Blaine.
"Excuse me for a moment." I said to Ian. He nodded his head and opened a book to read. He was reading "Romeo And Juliet" by Shakespeare. He has good taste in books.
I picked up the phone and said, "Yeah?"
"Thank God! Where were you? We were calling you for like a long time." Blaine exclaimed.
"I'm fine, I'm...I don't know where. But I'll explain the situation to you tomorrow. I'll meet you at the mall tomorrow again, okay?" I said.
Blaine sighed. "As long as you're okay. We'll try again for tomorrow. See you then."
I hung up the phone and looked at the time. 10:45 PM
"Oh my gosh! I should be getting home." I said. I grabbed my things.
"Thank you for everything, Ian. I'll see you around." I ran out the door to run home.
"Wait!! Let me give you a ride." He walked to a black car, and motioned me to get in. I knew if I walked I would get home at 11:30 and plus I didn't know where I was so I reluctantly agreed.
It was a quiet ride for the majority part of it, but we had a decent conversation. I found out that Ian likes to play the guitar and goes to Fairfield High School just like me. I never saw him around before though. When I arrived home, I smiled and thanked him. We exchanged phone numbers to keep in touch and he waited until I was in my house until he drove away.
I smiled to myself as I shut the door. I saw the light in the kitchen on and saw my mom sitting there...waiting for me.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
"My Autumn" Chapter One, Part One
Chapter One, Part One:
"God doesn't exist in this house," my mom had once told me after Dad had passed away. I just stared at her blankly, and was just shocked by what she said. Her own father was a pastor of a thriving church in Michigan, and she had just renounced her faith that she had followed for all of her life. She walked outside for a little smoke. I looked out the window and watched her as she silently cried in between puffs. My heart broke for her. I sighed and went back in my father's spot by the porch and painted her leaning against the fence on a grey cold day. As I was painting this the telephone rang, and it was Karla. Karla, was my best friend ever since kindergarten. She had this bubbly personality that always made me laugh. Without her, I wouldn't be painting.
"Hey Adri!" Karla happily said.
"Hey, what's up? " I replied, still staring out the window.
"Nothing much, I was wondering if you had gone shopping yet for back to school fashion."
I smiled. Karla always had to be the one who looked good when she first goes back to school.
"No I haven't, I haven't had anytime. My mom is still... hm ya know," I had said.
Karla always understood what I meant without me having to say it. That was the best thing about her. She always understood me.
"Ohh okay. Do you want to come with me tomorrow and we'll meet up with Blaine?" She asked.
I stopped painting. "BLAINE IS BACK?"
"Yeah, he flew in last night. He's going to be visiting for a couple of weeks and then going to visit his dad uptown. But he'll be back in time for school."
I thought about Blaine. I haven't seen him in years because his mom had divorced his dad and moved to Georgia. Now he came back to live here and was going to the same high school. He is another of my best friends who never let me down. WIthout him, I wouldn't be smiling.
"That punk didn't call me," I laughed. "But I'll meet you at the mall at 1:00. Call me when you get there with him, okay?"
Karla laughed, "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow"
I hung up the phone and stared once again outside. My mom was still in the same position as I had left her... She was in the same condition when my father had left her.
"God doesn't exist in this house," my mom had once told me after Dad had passed away. I just stared at her blankly, and was just shocked by what she said. Her own father was a pastor of a thriving church in Michigan, and she had just renounced her faith that she had followed for all of her life. She walked outside for a little smoke. I looked out the window and watched her as she silently cried in between puffs. My heart broke for her. I sighed and went back in my father's spot by the porch and painted her leaning against the fence on a grey cold day. As I was painting this the telephone rang, and it was Karla. Karla, was my best friend ever since kindergarten. She had this bubbly personality that always made me laugh. Without her, I wouldn't be painting.
"Hey Adri!" Karla happily said.
"Hey, what's up? " I replied, still staring out the window.
"Nothing much, I was wondering if you had gone shopping yet for back to school fashion."
I smiled. Karla always had to be the one who looked good when she first goes back to school.
"No I haven't, I haven't had anytime. My mom is still... hm ya know," I had said.
Karla always understood what I meant without me having to say it. That was the best thing about her. She always understood me.
"Ohh okay. Do you want to come with me tomorrow and we'll meet up with Blaine?" She asked.
I stopped painting. "BLAINE IS BACK?"
"Yeah, he flew in last night. He's going to be visiting for a couple of weeks and then going to visit his dad uptown. But he'll be back in time for school."
I thought about Blaine. I haven't seen him in years because his mom had divorced his dad and moved to Georgia. Now he came back to live here and was going to the same high school. He is another of my best friends who never let me down. WIthout him, I wouldn't be smiling.
"That punk didn't call me," I laughed. "But I'll meet you at the mall at 1:00. Call me when you get there with him, okay?"
Karla laughed, "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow"
I hung up the phone and stared once again outside. My mom was still in the same position as I had left her... She was in the same condition when my father had left her.
"My Autumn" Prologue
Prologue:
My name is Adrianne Emilton and all I do is paint. I paint landscapes, portraits, anime, cartoons...you name it I can paint it. I fell in love with this type of art when I was just 4 years old. My father, Daniel, had first introduced it to me when I was sitting on a chair looking out the window. He stared at me while he painted and said, "Do you see all of the colors there, Adri? Do you see how real it all is? Imagine all of that on paper." I looked back at him and pondered on his words. Imagine it on paper? Hmm... My father smiled at me and just went back on painting. He always spoke with a light air that felt nice and soft. The last time I heard his voice was when he told me to call 911, when his own brother had stabbed him in the chest. I was just 6 years old. I cried dark tears, while he bled red sticky blood all over the floor. It was the same color that he used in a painting of his. It was a landscape piece of an autumn scene titled, "Adrianne's Autumn". As you look at it, you can almost feel the cool air go down your back. You can almost hear the leaves crunch under the soles of your feet. My mother, Emma, was never the same again after dad had died. She was once a young, vibrant, and beautiful woman that had a silvery laugh that made everyone smile. Now she hardly says a word, and there are dark circles around her eyes. She goes to work, comes home, cooks dinner and sleeps. Now I just watch her on the sidelines and painted in my father's spot by the porch.
I never knew why my uncle Timothy killed my father. My mother never told me, but when he was put behind bars she said that he deserved it. I never visited him, I never got to know him, and I never forgot the way my father's eyes looked like the night he was dying. They still haunt me everytime I go to sleep. If only I had dialed the numbers on the telephone faster...maybe he would've still been here. Maybe my mom would've smiled again and laughed like she did before. But life doesn't always go the way you want it too.
My name is Adrianne Emilton and all I do is paint. I paint landscapes, portraits, anime, cartoons...you name it I can paint it. I fell in love with this type of art when I was just 4 years old. My father, Daniel, had first introduced it to me when I was sitting on a chair looking out the window. He stared at me while he painted and said, "Do you see all of the colors there, Adri? Do you see how real it all is? Imagine all of that on paper." I looked back at him and pondered on his words. Imagine it on paper? Hmm... My father smiled at me and just went back on painting. He always spoke with a light air that felt nice and soft. The last time I heard his voice was when he told me to call 911, when his own brother had stabbed him in the chest. I was just 6 years old. I cried dark tears, while he bled red sticky blood all over the floor. It was the same color that he used in a painting of his. It was a landscape piece of an autumn scene titled, "Adrianne's Autumn". As you look at it, you can almost feel the cool air go down your back. You can almost hear the leaves crunch under the soles of your feet. My mother, Emma, was never the same again after dad had died. She was once a young, vibrant, and beautiful woman that had a silvery laugh that made everyone smile. Now she hardly says a word, and there are dark circles around her eyes. She goes to work, comes home, cooks dinner and sleeps. Now I just watch her on the sidelines and painted in my father's spot by the porch.
I never knew why my uncle Timothy killed my father. My mother never told me, but when he was put behind bars she said that he deserved it. I never visited him, I never got to know him, and I never forgot the way my father's eyes looked like the night he was dying. They still haunt me everytime I go to sleep. If only I had dialed the numbers on the telephone faster...maybe he would've still been here. Maybe my mom would've smiled again and laughed like she did before. But life doesn't always go the way you want it too.
Friday, March 6, 2009
the wrost day today
1, There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.
2. Vitality shows not only in the ability to persist, but in the ability to start over.
3. Accept Challenges, so that you can may feel the exhilaration of victory.
4. Excellence is not a skill. It is an attitude.
5. Laughter is the closest distance between two people.
6. The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.
7. Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.
8. If you want to stand out, don't be different, be outstanding.
9. Change is difficult but often essential to survival.
10. Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to it.
11. Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart.
12. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.
2. Vitality shows not only in the ability to persist, but in the ability to start over.
3. Accept Challenges, so that you can may feel the exhilaration of victory.
4. Excellence is not a skill. It is an attitude.
5. Laughter is the closest distance between two people.
6. The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.
7. Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.
8. If you want to stand out, don't be different, be outstanding.
9. Change is difficult but often essential to survival.
10. Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to it.
11. Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart.
12. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.
the wrost day ever about a crush
I feel getting a knife and
trying to myself feel
better. As people
said"life sucks"
Tears, cries, screams
going from all over the place.
After what just happened
I realized how much anger
I had hidden, I will never
look at him or talk to him
ever again. Lost the heart
but i have my soul to protect
me. I have friends who care
for me, makes me smilie.
As each tear comes out
I Know that it is just a mixture
of emitions. Life is just unfair
we just have to move on.
trying to myself feel
better. As people
said"life sucks"
Tears, cries, screams
going from all over the place.
After what just happened
I realized how much anger
I had hidden, I will never
look at him or talk to him
ever again. Lost the heart
but i have my soul to protect
me. I have friends who care
for me, makes me smilie.
As each tear comes out
I Know that it is just a mixture
of emitions. Life is just unfair
we just have to move on.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Friendship turning into love??
Strangely how we meet,
one look, one smile
sets a fire in my heart.
One stare sets me off
walking away from you,
your face has full of answers
that I need to know.
But how???One hug,
one touch, one word sets
me up full of wonder.
We talk and talk until
there is anything left to
left say. I try to ignore,
your face is hard not to
look at. But my heart is
beating every second you
stare me when I laugh,
talk to someone. Walking
each step toward each other
I wondered if you feeling the
same thing. As the wind
blows my hair into a thunder
I feel your eyes looking at me
but I need to know the truth.
Do you? My brain can't think
straight my head has a picture of
you all 24 hours. Shall we?
one look, one smile
sets a fire in my heart.
One stare sets me off
walking away from you,
your face has full of answers
that I need to know.
But how???One hug,
one touch, one word sets
me up full of wonder.
We talk and talk until
there is anything left to
left say. I try to ignore,
your face is hard not to
look at. But my heart is
beating every second you
stare me when I laugh,
talk to someone. Walking
each step toward each other
I wondered if you feeling the
same thing. As the wind
blows my hair into a thunder
I feel your eyes looking at me
but I need to know the truth.
Do you? My brain can't think
straight my head has a picture of
you all 24 hours. Shall we?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
My wall
There is a wall
Within my room
It's tall and wide
Partially filled with gloom
One side is content
One side is sad
One side is filled with anger
One side is full of regret
There are different memories
Upon this wall
And some of them
Are about to fall
This wall has held me
Within one place
I can not even see
My own face
I have a wall
within my room
and it has done nothing
but bring bad news
It's silky color white
has grown gray
and the memories
hanging on it are filled with hate
I take a hammer
and hit that wall
making a whole
the small cement pieces fall
I can now see
a little of what I missed
the beautiful side of the world
and the happiness within
Within my room
It's tall and wide
Partially filled with gloom
One side is content
One side is sad
One side is filled with anger
One side is full of regret
There are different memories
Upon this wall
And some of them
Are about to fall
This wall has held me
Within one place
I can not even see
My own face
I have a wall
within my room
and it has done nothing
but bring bad news
It's silky color white
has grown gray
and the memories
hanging on it are filled with hate
I take a hammer
and hit that wall
making a whole
the small cement pieces fall
I can now see
a little of what I missed
the beautiful side of the world
and the happiness within
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