Monday, March 29, 2010

Chapter Three of Jake's Story

So, I finally got chapter three down. The reason why it took me a little longer to do this chapter is that I usually take a while to really put what I want down on paper...er computer. I know the whole story pretty much but I have to let the section that I am writing ruminate in my head. If I don't than I can't get into it. I gotta be in the mood, you know? well, I guess I should stop talking so you can read (if you want of course). And like I have said before, I am more than open to constructive criticism. Thanks! I hope you can follow it/like it.


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Chapter Three (Aka Charlotte)


He was awake before his cell phone alarm began to buzz. Lying on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. The room was soothingly cool, the window cracked open emitting the sounds of chirping birds and the occasional stirring of the oak leaves near his window. Today his body felt like it was made of titanium. When he stepped lethargically into his bathroom he half expected to see his skin shine a dull silver. Instead, his reflection looked more like a dog that had been run over. His auburn hair was reaching in al different directions, his hazel eyes were bloodshot, and his freckles seemed grey with the lack of sleep. His tooth brush was nowhere to be found so he washed his teeth with his finger as a make-shift toothbrush.

He wanted to wear a dark blue sweater. He felt dark blue today so it only seemed appropriate. Today was special day to him; special in a terrible way. Slapping his warm stockinged feet into the kitchen he decided to focus on brewing his coffee and eating his toast, instead of remembering why a storm cloud was tethered to his mind today.

“Hey dad.”

Travis jumped and flung around, his eyes as big as a nun’s heart.

“Jeeez, you scared the crap out of me!” He wheezed, clutching his chest. “What are you doing up so early?”

Travis’ son, Tommy, was sitting on one of the kitchen table benches. He was wearing his dinosaur p.j’s. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he seemed to be working very hard to keep his head up. It seemed that this day of titanium feelings was contagious. Maybe it was because they were both feeling the same stabbing feelings of regret and grief.

“I couldn’t sleep.” His little voice was quiet.

Travis sat down next to Tommy on the bench, placing a hand on his son’s back.

“Yea, me too.” He looked down, not sure what to say.

“I miss her.”

“Me too Bud.”

Tommy ran his shaking hands through his dark chestnut hair. Travis watched and couldn’t help but think about how much Tommy and Charlotte looked alike. Her hair had been just like Tommy’s: thick, gleaming, and wavy. He had his mother’s eyes too. Bright green, as if the sun was gleaming from behind them. He missed seeing her eyes, especially when she decided to love him.

“Hey, don’t worry. Things are going to be fine. Besides, she’s probably in heaven, right? That’s a pretty sweet place to be.” Travis tried to smile but the edges pulled down when Tommy dropped his head and hid in the cave of his legs.

“You okay to go to school?” he peered closer to Tommy.

Tommy remained silent.

“Yea, I think I can go.” He unfolded himself, slid out the other end of the bench, and walked into his room.

Travis let out a sigh.

It wasn’t enough that it was the anniversary of Charlotte’s death. His wives death had to be coupled with a Monday. Mondays were always bad days for him.

The ride to school was quiet and thick with unease. Tommy kept his gaze peeled on the window, refusing to speak unless absolutely necessary.

“So, you going to hang out with…what’s your one friends name?”

“Joe?” Tommy answered, finally looking at his dad.

“Yea. Joe. You guys gonna hang out after school?”

Tommy turned away again.

“Yea, I guess.” His voice was flattened.

“Hey buddy?”

“Yea?”

“Its gonna be okay.”

Travis reached over and rubbed his back again. As they rolled up to Tommy’s school Travis wished that someone could do the same to him. Sometimes he just needed someone to rub his back and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Tommy slammed the door and walked slowly up the stairs into his school. Travis sat in his car and watched his son until someone honked at him from behind.

“Yea, yea.” Travis quipped.

He didn’t know why he decided to wear his blue sweater. It was a nice sweater and he needed to take it off right as he was getting into work. He peeled off his sweater and replaced it with a white t-shirt and his oil stained jump suit. The rancid smell of gas and oil had already filled his head. He welcomed the oncoming buzz. Usually he looked forward to the mindless toil of cranking a wrench or tinkering underneath a car’s underbelly. But, there were too many dismal thoughts that kept flashing in his mind.

“Travis!”

He watched as his boss made his way through the empty canisters and tool boxes. Travis always thought he looked like a perfect blend of a walrus and a chipmunk. His body was enlarged with fat and his teeth stuck out pointedly from his skinny head. There was no question that Bill, his boss, was an odd looking fellow.

Bill finally waddled up to Travis, wheezing. “How you doing today?”

Travis knew that he was trying to make him feel comforted but it only made him uneasy because Bill couldn’t smile. It seemed as if his face wouldn’t allow it. It could have been that the muscles in his face that enabled smiling had withered away from the lack of use.

“Um, im alright. You got any cars ready for me today?” Travis looked over Bill’s shoulder.

“Yea, yea we do but I’d like it if you would make it quick today. We have to let you guys off early because were having an inspector come in at three.” Bill said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

Travis had already stopped listening.

“Yea, sure, sounds good.”

He pushed past Bill and made for the nearest car.

“I’ll be as good as gone.” Travis said from under a 2005 Jeep liberty.

“Hey, did we ever get that Throttle position sensor?” He called out.

“Yea, we did.” The voice that answered was gruff and deep.

Travis slid from under the car and sat up, smiling.

“Howard, your back! Where have you been you big mutton?”

Howard was all muscle and little else. He was taller than a tree and thicker than one too. He was bald, revealing a tattoo that ran from the back of his head, down his neck, and onto his back. Howard usually made the toughest guy in the room want to pee his pants.

Howard chuckled, which sounded more like an earthquake.

“I see you didn’t set this place on fire. I’m surprised” he said, rubbing his dark goatee.

“Me too.” Travis laughed.

“Where did you go? Its hard to get all of these orders right when someone isn’t here to screw them up.” Travis said.

“Vacation. Lisa wanted us to visit her folks up in Gardiner.” Howard made a face.

“Must have been a blast.” Travis smirked.

“Yea, Right. But, its over.” He smiled, shaking a wrench in Travis’ direction.

“Cool” Travis replied.

Howard nodded and grabbed a stack of papers and Travis slid underneath the Jeep again.

Bill the pill, as he was commonly referred to, finally let them go home at one o’clock. Travis had about an hour and a half before he had to pick up Tommy from school so he decided to go for a drive. He didn’t care where he was going or what he was doing, he just had to feel like he was getting away from everything. The trees were rusty with autumn. Leaves flew past his windshield like snow. They twirled and danced around his tires as he flew past them.

He found himself driving up the gravel road to a cemetery not too far from his place. As he stepped out of his truck and walked slowly up the hill he realized that the gravestones looked like chipped teeth tearing through the carpet of green grass. As he walked through the isles of tombs, he watched the trees as they swayed and flowed in the breeze. Surprisingly, he felt at peace knowing that his wife wasn’t buried here. She was buried somewhere in Arizona. He tried to forget where it was, and it was easy not to remember because only two days after her death her parents had snatched her from him and held the funeral in their hometown.

Travis stopped in front of an ancient looking gravestone. It was aged by the elements. There were white splotches and cancerous globs of black that looked like mold. He tilted his head and read the chiseled words quietly “In memory of Charles Newman”. He looked around, not wanting someone to think he was insane or morbid. When he realized he was alone, he whispered “Good to meet you Charles”.

Travis rocked on his feet as he read on. “died on the 12th of September, 1866. Age 81 at death.” He frowned when he couldn’t find the date of Charles’ birth. Why was it that they didn’t have the date of his birth? Wasn’t that just as important as his death?

There was a gust of wind and Travis hunched over, stuffing his hands in his coat. It filled his nose with the smell of crackling fire places and oncoming rain. The smell reminded him of Charlotte. He always told her that she reminded him of the Fall. He wasn’t sure why, and hadn’t thought much about it until after her reaction when he had told her. She wrinkled her nose, perfect and petite, and made a face.

“That’s depressing. Why can’t I remind you of the spring?”

He shrugged, regretting what he had said immediately.

“Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

She looked at him for a time.

“Sometimes you say weird stuff. I wonder what is wrong with you.” She replied, stomping out of the room and drove off, most likely to the mall.

He didn’t resent her for her tight grip on his life, but when he first met her he had no idea who she really was. She was going to NYU when they met. She had been studying history, which he thought was a sign of intelligence but, to this day, Travis had no idea why she was studying history. Charlotte never cared about learning, she just wanted to get away from her parents and become a model. He was taking classes as well as he attempted to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. She seemed sweet, her disarming smile made him melt inside and think that everything was going to be okay. Her rich chocolate eyes, her wavy chesnut hair, and her ivory skin had lulled him into security.

When Charlotte found out she was pregnant with Tommy they decided to get married. It was only two days after they said “I do” that he began to see who she really was. Of course he knew that women that were pregnant usually acted a little crazier than they normally were, but she was a monster. If his music was too loud she would scream, high pitched and stabbing, and demand that he “turn that noise off!”and then chuck a pencil at him.

She had also forced him to stop working at his dad’s car repair shop.

“You look poor and I hate it when you come home and smell like gas.” She had whined sitting on the bed, legs folded in her heart pj’s, and her hair pulled back in a pony tail. He hated how beautiful she was and the way that she could twist his arm behind his back with her words.

“Then what do you want me to do?” he had said, his voice tight in anger.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” She huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

He breathed deep, attempting to calm his temper.

“Ok, dear, what do you think I should do instead?” he replied.

Content that he was no longer using “that tone of voice” she took her nail polish and began to paint her perfect toes.

“I was talking to Leigh and she thinks that her husband can find you a job as an accountant at his job” She said.

“What do you mean? I don’t know anything to do with numbers! What’s wrong with my job anyways? It pays well enough!” he began to shake, heat rising into his face. “Why do you have to change everything about me!”

“I’m not trying to change you!” She snapped impatiently, “Working at a car shop or whatever you call it, isn’t good enough. Don’t you want our friends not to think we are poor?”

Travis curled his hand in a fist.

“Were not poor and I am not going to be an accountant.” He growled.

Her head snapped up, brown eyes aflame.

“Do you want me to leave you and find someone who can actually provide for his family!”

At that point he knew that he was only going to make things worse. If he wasn’t careful than she would go into one of her rages and probably end up flinging her nail polish either at the wall or at him and stain the carpet (or him) “seductive red”.

Instead of shouting back and ripping his hair out, as he always felt like doing when she squeezed him harder and harder with her little hands, he whirled around and slammed the door behind him. He could hear her shrieking and cursing him behind the door when he left the house.

Travis felt his back tensing as he thought about her. He shook his shoulders and walked away from Charles’ gravestone. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He cursed when he realized that it was Tommy’s school.

“Mr. Kelly?”

“Yea? That’s me.” His heart sank as he checked his clock and realized that he was thirty minutes late to pick up Tommy from school.
“This is Mrs. Hill from Tommy’s school. He’s been waiting for you for about a half an hour. Are you going to pick up your son?”Mrs. Hill’s tone was sharp and condescending.

“Ill be right there.” He said, slapping his phone closed. Jogging back to the truck he felt his heart tense. If Charlotte had been there she would have shrieked at him for days. Even with her gone she had a way of making him feel completely incompetent. But, the worst thing of all, was how guilty he felt for leaving Tommy at school for the second time that week.

When he drove up to the school he saw Tommy sitting on the steps, his head hanging over his hands.

Travis jumped out of his truck and jogged over to Tommy.

“Hey buddy, I am sorry I’m late.” He said.

Tommy looked up at him. His eyes were deep and swimming with tears.

“Aw man, I am so sorry.” Travis leaned over Tommy, but Tommy quickly stood up and marched to the car, not saying a word.

The ride back home was as silent as the ride to school that morning. Travis had no idea what to say. His insides were squirming with regret. He had apologized a million times over when this sort of thing happened but it never seemed to fix anything.

“So, how was school T-man?” he attempted.

Tommy just shrugged and looked down again.

“That good, huh?”

Tommy smirked.

“It was okay.” He mumbled.

“Did you catch any bugs today?” Travis asked.

“Yea, actually I did. Two bugs.” He replied, sneaking a peek at his dad.

“No way!” Travis tried to sound as enthusiastic as he could. Usually Tommy just needed something to distract him to make him feel better.

“Yea” Tommy smiled weakly, wiping tears from his cheeks and sniffling loudly. He took his backpack and unzipped it, pulling out a jar filled with sticks, leaves, and some grass.

“It’s a spider and an ant.” He declared proudly.

“Oh yea? That’s pretty scary.”

“Oh no.” Tommy said sadly, “The ant is gone. I think the spider ate it.”

Travis tried not to smile.

“You’ll have to find another one and put it in a separate jar.” He said as they pulled into their driveway. Tommy no longer cared because he was distracted by the huge moving van outside of the house next door.

“Someone is moving in!” he cried excitedly.

“Sure looks like it.” Travis said.

Before he could say anything more, Tommy launched himself out of the car just as soon as they came to a stop. Travis saw the top of his head as he ran up the steps of the house next door.

Travis grunted as he bent down and grabbed Tommy’s bug jars and his backpack.

“Tommy! What are you doing?” he yelled as he saw Tommy ring the bell.

Travis cursed under his breath and walked up quickly to Tommy.

“Come on buddy.” He pulled at his t-shirt, hoping that no one was home.

His stomach dropped as the door creaked open.

“Yes?” asked an old man, holding a cup of steaming coffee. His skin was wrinkled and spotted with black spots on his dark brown skin. Travis couldn’t help but stare when he looked at the old man’s eyes. They were razor-sharp blue with slivers of white littered around his small pupils.

“Uh, Hello sir.” Travis replied, fumbling over his words.

“Sorry, it was just…” he couldn’t finish what he was saying because he was interrupted by Tommy.

“Hello! My name is Tommy, what’s yours?” his voice eager and excited.

The old man smiled as he looked down at Tommy.

“I’m sorry sir, we’ll go” Travis said as he began to pull Tommy away.

“Its no problem.” The old man said, his voice deep and raspy, as he reached out his hand, “My name is George Kingsley.”

Travis shook his hand and was surprised by the strength of the old man’s grip.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Travis and this little twerp is my son. We live right next door.” Travis pointed to their house.

“Well, I am very pleased to meet you two.” George’s voice reminded Travis of the sounded of two rocks rubbing against each other.

“Thank you Sir” Travis nodded, feeling awkward. “We’ll get out of your hair. But, were glad that you moved in.” He smiled and he turned, dragging Tommy along as he began to wave frantically to George.

“Okay, but you can come over anytime.” He waved, his bright blue eyes shining in the sun as it dipped under the roof of his porch.

As Travis dragged Tommy back into the house he saw Tommy look up at him, his mouth turned down in a frown.
“Can he be my friend?” Tommy begged, his eyes pleading.

“Of course, he can be your friend. Just don’t bother all of the time.”

But Tommy didn’t hear because he had already run off with a big goofy grin on his face.

Just like his mom. Travis thought.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Bad dreams, Insomnia and Epiphanies.

So, its about seven right now but I woke up at 5:30 am. I went to bed at about 2 am. so...I have had three hours of sleep. Yuck. I dont know why I woke up but I am somewhat glad that I did. The reason? I was having a bad dream. :( I don't like bad dreams. Who does?
My dream was about these two chicks (random people I've never met) making fun of me. They were making fun of me because I wasn't smart and because I didn't know how to speak well. They were comparing me to my smarter friends etc. My reaction? What it has always been: physical violence. lol First I punched them, then I threw a cup at their stomachs (ask Mckenna, I have a thing for throwing cups haha). The reason why I resort to physical violence is because I can't articulate my feelings when I'm emotional. Actually, come to think of it, I have trouble speaking period. My tongue gets all tied up, I jumble my words, and I stutter. Its not fun, and to make matters worse it always flares up when I am nervous (I am always nervous when I'm talking to someone).
Anyways, so I woke up feeling really angry and hurt. I was thinking about all of the people that I knew that were way smarter than I was, about the times when people have made quips/ snide remarks about my lack of intelligence, and all of the stupid things that I have said. In short, I was feeling pretty lame. But, then I started to think about what could be a better reaction. I should not have hit them (the girls in my dream). haha Physical violence should always be your last resort, not your first. I've got to learn that. haha
I also began to think of things I could have said (ways to fix my dream) when I realized something. Yes, there are people that are more intelligent than me. There are people who can say how they feel at opportune moments, but, there is one thing that I do know: I love with all of my heart.
What I mean is that I have no doubt in my mind that I love people very deeply. I feel for people when they are sad, I feel their pain, and I want to help so badly. Sometimes I don't do so well at showing it but I think about people all of the time. Whenever I am watching a movie and someone dies or they're in pain I imagine myself cupping their face in my hand, kissing their foreheads, and somehow cleansing their body of pain. Sounds kind of weird :) but it makes me feel better. I can't bear to watch them helpless and alone. Ever since I was a kid I would pray for everyone in the world, especially the homeless people. haha And when I really think about it, that's what really counts. I would never be satisfied with my life if I were the smartest person in the world who didn't know how to love. Life is not worth living without love.
So yea, that all came from a bad dream. :) I had to get it out because it was keeping me awake. Well, goodnight. I'm gonna attempt to sleep again. Wish me luck! :)
ps. I just saw that someone from Beverly hills came on my blog (whether for a second or a millisecond I do not know) but, it made me think of the song "Beverly hills! Thats where I wanna be! Livin' in Beverly Hills.." lol Now its stuck in my head. haha

Monday, March 22, 2010

Thoughts about faith

"Whenever you work toward a worthy goal, you exercise faith. You show your hope for something that you cannot yet see." - True to the Faith. I never really thought of faith in that way. Its silly that I havent because I guess thats the whole definition of faith, but I think I am begining to understand it a little more. Faith is the feeling that you have when you first start something. Its the begining of a project where you haven't had any results yet but you hope that there will be. For example, when you like a boy and you start to flirt with them (for the lack of a better example). You don't know for sure that they like you, but you hope that they do. Because you have hope, you act on that hope by exercising faith by flirting. The hope is the thought and faith is the action. Knowledge is what you gain after all that you do and you realize that you were right all along. In the scriptures they refer it to a seed. Whenever you are planning on planting something you are hoping that it will grow. If you didn't hope that it grew then you wouldn't plant it. You have faith so you plant it and nourish it. The hope gives you the courage to exercise faith and therefore receive the fruits of your labors when the plant grows and blossoms.
In that context, everyone has to have faith to do anything. You have to have faith that when you get up in the morning that your legs are going to work because you get up and step on them. You have to have faith that you will be able to breathe when you sleep when you close your eyes and relax. You have faith that your car wont blow up when you get into the car and drive away. Even in the beginning, when you turn the key, you are exercising faith because you began with hope when you thought about turning the key, and it was the faith that caused you to put the key into the ignition and turn. It makes a lot of sense to me now. I understood it for a long time but I guess I didn't quite let it sink into me the way that I have let it now. I realize that I need to exercise more faith. That's probably why I don't finish things because I lose my faith. I doubt that blah blah blah or I doubt that he will blah blah blah etc. Its letting go of doubt and taking that "leap" of faith. There is no real evidence that your faith will be rewarded, you just do it.
If you think about it, faith is a very courageous feeling. If you were a coward, then you wouldn't have the faith. You would be too afraid to do something that there is no evidence of. (which is the very definition of faith). It is also essential because nothing would be able to function if you didn't have some sort of faith that your labors would result in anything. Faith is the driving force of the whole universe. Faith is what keeps us going, its what keeps us alive, its what makes the world beautiful. Its not just a religious thing either, it is connected to everything. I never really understood just how important faith is.

Ps. The picture that I found was after a long tedious process. :) I am so picky. I started out looking under the topic "faith" and all I found was a lot of cheesy pictures and pictures of Faith Hill (the country singer). Then I looked under plant/seed and there were a lot of pictures of people holding dirt and a seedling, which I thought was too Twilightesque (blech). So, I decided on this picture because its a Oak tree seedling. I think its cute, especially with the bigger oak trees in the back. Shows that we all got to start somewhere. :)

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Personal Progress


So, obviously this is not chapter three in Jake's story but, this is something a little different. Someone in my ward (church) gave me a really good idea. There is a thing that the young women do in our church and its called "Personal Progress". What you do is complete "value experiences" which are things that you need to finish. I have done them all already ( I finished them when I was 18) but I thought that it would help me and strengthen my testimony by doing it all over again. The experiences that they have you do are really good.
I got the booklet today and I am going to start today! I will keep track of everything I do on my blog so that I can have a journal (which is required and I don't have one right now) and so that I can be held responsible to do them all. ( I want to finish them either this year or in two years. No later) My first experience is in the section of Faith.
What I am supposed to do is read Hebrews 11; Alma 32:17-43; Ether 12:6-22; and Joseph Smith-history 1:11-20. Then, read two general conference talks on faith and establish a habit of prayer, morning and night. After doing it for three weeks I need to discuss it with someone about what I learned about faith. in my journal I am to express my feelings about faith and prayer. I will do so on my blog and let you know what I learned. :) I am really excited. I really like things like this and it will help to give me the extra strength that I need in my life. :) Have a good sunday!
-Caitlin Marie Holloway Ballentine (as my dad likes to call me now) :)

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Cool Quote




I am reading a really good book and I found this awesome poem. I love it. It really helps to know that sometimes we just gotta hold on and know that in the end everything is going to work out. :)



My life is like a weaving between God and me,
I cannot choose the colors He worketh steadily.
Ofttimes He weaveth sorrow, and I in foolish pride,
Forget that He seeth the upper, and I the under side.
Not till the loom is silent and the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas and explain the reasons why.
The dark threads are as needful in the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver in the pattern He has planned.
-By Spencer W. Kimball

ps. The picture is of a cool quilt I found. :)

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Chapter Two of Jake's story

Alright, So I have been flooded with ideas and I couldn't keep myself from writing them down so, here is Chapter two. If you are lost, the first chapter is my last entry. I am doing this for Jake, my husband, and I want it to be perfect for him so I need some feedback. Tell me what you think, what I could fix, etc etc etc. ;) Thanks!!



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The pain that blossomed and made me gasp. I could not cry out, I could not do anything but grab my chest. The man had walked away, disappearing around a corner. It was only seconds before I collapsed and swam into a dark tunnel.
First, I heard a woman scream and it seemed like days later until I heard the wailing of an ambulance. I felt myself lifted and hauled to a hospital. There were shouts around me but I couldn’t move; I couldn’t open my eyes. Doctors shuffled around me, sticking things into my skin and checking my pulse. Their voices were tense and curt but I never understood what they were saying. I felt as if I were submerged in honey, oozing its sweetness into my ear drums.
At first there was a pleasant light outside of my eye lids. It glowed as if I were lying on a beach, just resting my eyes, until I’d again jump back into the water. I came in and out of that state of peace. But soon the light turned harsh, burning, and I would leave my placid beach and slam into the hospital. It was then that I felt pain searing through my body, as if my blood had turned into acid. Someone pressed on my arm and when I tried to swat them away my arm remained frozen, a stump of skin and bone. Soon, I realized that I wasn’t able to move anything. I was trapped inside my body, screaming in pain; remaining muted and powerless.
It seemed to be months, maybe even years, that I remained petrified and still. Every day it became harder to bare then the last. My stomach ravaged me with hunger, but I had to wait until I felt the agonizing pain of a tube being ripped into my stomach and felt it pump me with liquid sustenance. I felt as if I was suffocating as the ventilator pumped oxygen into my lungs at an agonizingly slow pace. After every pump I felt as if I was going to die but then, in the last terrifying seconds, it filled me up with air again. There were sores that slowly grew on my hips and on my elbows. They burned my skin with pain so intense that I felt myself weep inside, but I wasn’t able to shed a tear. I wanted to whimper as I felt the nurses clean them, breaking them open, and squeezing the puss out of the sores, but I didn’t make a sound.
The pain subsided slowly, but I hoped that the grains of sand in my time in my fleshy tomb were about to their last grain. Numbness crept into my skin as I laid motionless day after day, week after week. My nurse, Rosetta, was my only companion, the only connection I had to anyone outside of myself. When she cleaned me and fixed my I.V. drip she told me about her day, what was worrying her, and what she was excited about. She told me of her son Sean who was graduating from high school and thinking about going to New York for college. She told me about her husband, Jason. His boss had just fired him and they were worried about making ends meet with her being the only one working. She also told me about her friends Nichole and Melisa. They always judged her by the way she raised Sean. They always told her that “If you don’t control him more then he will fall into trouble and it will swallow him up.” She would sigh and say, “I just feel that I need to support him and help him do things on his own. I always show him how much I love him…I hope that I raised him okay.” Whenever it was her shift I always got excited, wondering what new things she would tell me about.
On one Monday, on May 16th, she sat on my bed again thinking aloud.
“Sean told me that he has decided to go to New York for sure.” She paused, breathing heavily.
“I just don’t want him to be so far away…I know I told him that I would support him in anything he did but, this is so hard. I love him just too darn much.” I could hear her smile softly, “but you know what, I hope I will always have you Charity. Maybe when you wake up we can be friends.” She took my hand in hers. Her hands were soft and warm, and through her palm I could feel her tenderly reaching out to me. Her finger grazed my forehead as she brushed aside a hair that had fallen on my cheek. She smelled of ginger and vanilla and I wanted to swallow it in because it had become such a comforting smell.

“What about you Charity? What is your story?” she asked as she folded my sheets on my stomach. “Why doesn’t anyone visit you? Where are your parents?” Her voice was thick with concern. I felt her eyes study my emotionless face.

“Well, no matter. You’ve got me.” She replied cheerfully “I’m gonna go and get you a new I.V. bag. Sound fun huh?” She chuckled as her feet softly kissed the ground.

After Rosetta had changed my I.V. and slipped a pillow under my hip, she left for the night. Not long after she left I heard a strange click of shoes. They seemed to echo against the walls and against my skull. The smell of leather and sweet smelling cologne washed over me. I listened to the footsteps come closer to my bed. The room grew cold, the warmth of Rosetta had left with her smile. I felt the pressure of them staring intently. Even though the voices were mixed with the ever present beep of my heart monitor, I heard them clearly like the clanging of church bells.
“So, what seems to be the problem? Why are we here?” this first voice was deep, his syllables trimmed with authority.
Beep.
“Well, Sir, there seems to be a bit of a mix up.” Replied a softer, more organized voice.
Beep
“Involving…?”
Beep
“Charity. “
“I am assuming that this is Charity?” The first man said with impatience.
“Yes, Sir. That would be her. Well….I don’t know how to put this, but she wasn’t supposed to die. We killed the wrong Charity.”
Beep
There was a labored sigh.
Beep
“How did this happen? Why haven’t you told me sooner?” asked the man addressed as Sir. His voice had become heavy and rough with frustration.
Beep
“Well, Charity Powell was supposed to die, but apparently there are two Charity Powells’ in the same city. This Charity’s birthday is 1986 but the Charity that was supposed to die was born in 1956. We skimmed her file too fast I guess. And the reason for not telling you sooner...I just hoped that she would wake up, but it’s been quite some time now and she remains in a coma.”
Beep
“So, you admit that this was your mistake?” asked Sir.
Beep
“I’m afraid so. It won’t ever happen again but I don’t know what to do at this point and I will need your help fixing it.”
Beep
“You were right to come to me.” Sir said. Then, he was quiet, which I gathered as a contemplative silence.
Beep
“Well,” he said “I hope that you would have come to me sooner. But, here’s what we can do now, really the only thing we can do. Instead of…..”
I didn’t hear anything more because my ears were suddenly filled with a long drawn out sound that filled me with terror. As I heard the stretched out Beep of my once loyal heart monitor, I knew that I had died.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Story for Jake

Okay, so I am writing a story for my husband, Jake, and I want to make it the best that it can be. He writes me songs and plays beautiful songs on his guitar and I always feel bad I dont have something to give back to him so I am deciding to write a book. Not a bouquet of flowers...but ya know. :) Anyways, I want to make it perfect so I need lots and lots of feedback! I want you to be brutal. I know I have some grammar mistakes but I am not sure where they are....anyways. Tell me if things are muddy or that easy to understand. Thanks so much! :)






The rain was pattering at my window when I woke up that morning. Jazz was strumming through my alarm clock, reminding me to lift myself out of bed, zombie like mind you, and head out into the storm. The day was a Monday, and like every Monday in the past, I despised this Monday. It was the Monday when I had to return to work after my two week vacation. As I slipped on my blue jeans, not really caring about the little speckles of food stains, I longingly gazed at my tan legs. They wont be tan for much longer…not with me living in the wettest and cloudiest region in the world: Seattle, Washington.

Gazing out the window, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, I wondered why everything seemed so gray in this city. It was as if the buildings were smeared with charcol, as if someone had meant to paint a lively city scene but had accidently poured water all over it. The buildings sagged with the weight of so much water and heavy clouds.

I stuffed a fairly worn and battered book into my bag. The clock had continued to tick in my reverie and in which case I realized I was almost late. I switched to panic mode and began running around my cramped apartment. I spilt blush on the counter, spilled my water bottle, and dropped my apple on the floor. I had a lurking premonition that today would be like all Mondays, not-so-wonderful.

Walking down the stairs I ran into my creeper neighbor. I like to think well of everyone, but this man gave me the heebeegeebies. His eyes were hooded by eye brows that are second cousins to the shrubs outside of our building. He had way of looking deep into your soul. I shivered, yet smiled, hoping that keeping a friendly demeanor would spare me if/ when he decided to hack everyone into bits.

As I pushed laboriously at the front door to my apartment building I realized that I had forgotten to do anything about my rebellious hair. My stomach dropped. I frantically (notice this is a common theme for my Mondays) ran my shaking hands through my sandy blond hair. I moan, standing underneath the bus stop. I knew a long time ago that I lost this battle. Hair against owner. Fifty thousand points to the hair.

There was a gaggle of people already at the bus stop. The Asian lady who owned the shop next to my work was standing with a pink umbrella, her shoulders hunched and her eyes gleaming from behind her curtain of black illustrious hair. Of course, I am jealous. Ever since I was a kid I wanted hair likes hers. I imagined myself as an exotic beauty with creamy chocolate skin and lips as full as Angelina Jolie. I can dream can’t I?

I continued to sweep the small crowd. There was a man with a funny looking beanie farthest from me. His hair was long, reaching like dog ears from underneath his knit hat. His jacket was as gray as the morning sky, his shoes as dirty as the ground. He reminded me of a retired scarecrow. Beside him was a man in a tailored pin-striped suit. He stuck out of this mess of people like a wrong note in a ballad. His ebony skin was taught over an athletic build. His posture reminded me of pictures I had seen in vogue. His toffee colored hair was jelled into submission, parted on one side, and in his hand he held a folded umbrella along with a brief case. I couldn’t help but stare at him. His face is what transfixed me. It was chiseled like a Greek statue, his eyes were bright blue framed by thick black lashes. His lips were in a straight contemplative line. He was staring off into the sky as if thinking about something very trivial. I could almost hear him thinking “I think that tomorrow I will wear my striped socks…” . Then within a split second I realized that he was looking right back at me. I jumped unexpectedly and threw my eyes submissively down to the ripped pavement. I could feel my face getting hot, pounding with embarrassment.

At that moment I could hear the squeal and hiss of the bus as it slowed to a stop before us. The overset bus driver beckoned us in with a uninterested glare. We all jumbled into an amoebae shaped line, pulsing and slightly shoving. I didn’t look behind me but I could feel the man’s eyes glued onto the back of my head. Sitting in the farthest seat possible, I breathed in the familiar stench of burnt plastic and sweaty metal. I watched the pin-striped suited man as he paid the bus driver, stepped purposefully to three rows in front of me, and placed his umbrella onto his lap.

During the bus ride I couldn’t help but rub my arms. I was freezing. But it wasn’t the normal –my hair is wet- cold. It was a frozen boned feeling, as if someone had taken my bones from out of my skin, stuffed them into a freezer, then put them back. My hands were shaking more than normal. It made me wonder if I had eaten enough but I remembered eating a good breakfast of eggs with a dash of paparika, hash browns, and orange juice. By the time it was my stop I was getting worried, staring at my quaking hands. I hurried to get up, but in the process tripped over my knees as they knocked against each other. As I fell I felt strong warm hands catch me. I looked up in relief to see the man in the pin-stripped suit looking down at me. His eyes are smiling but his mouth was still in a contemplative line.

“Thank you” I mumbled quietly. I hurried off the bus and into the curtain of rain. I began to walk quickly to my office. I was getting increasingly worried that I wouldn’t be able to make it because I was feeling more and more dizzy. I cut into my alley-way and froze. Again, the cold sensation rippled through me but this time it hit me like a roaring tidal wave. I breathed heavily and laboriously. I focused on the mud and imagined it clinging desperately to the shoes of a passersby, the groaning red bricks and the leaflets of trash cluttering the edges. I heard footsteps behind me but I couldn’t turn my head. I felt a heavy hand hold my shoulder. The man in the suit turned me around and faced me, his eyes now clouded with sorrow. “I am sorry.” He whisperd, his voice deeper than a chasm, yet comforting like a warm fire. I barely caught a glimpse of the knife that he toke out of his coat and drove it deep into my chest.

---------------

Ps. tell me what you think! :) thanks!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Today I am taking care of Dorothy again. She is such a nice lady. I like being around her, we get a long great because we are both kind of quiet so we let each other do our own thing. Getting up this morning was hard because I didn't sleep too well last night. For some reason I couldn't stay asleep. I think I was so excited to think of things to cook for Jake. We want to eat more healthy so I was thinking of things that I could do to help Jake. He is like pretty much 95% of the population who doesn't like veggies so I am trying to think of ways to make them yummy or get him the vitamins he needs. I sound like his mom haha. I am just doing it because his leg is been hurting him a lot and I worry that maybe it could be health related, or it may not be. Either way, it doesn't hurt to eat well. :)
Anyways, about my last post, I really apologize if it was too forward. I was just thinking the other day about how some people feel alone with their problems because they think that everyone else has perfect lives or no weaknesses. I just want to let people know that they are not alone. No one is alone. You share something with someone out there. I have been getting responses to my blog from people I never imagined had my same problem. There are some sad stories out there and it makes me really sad to think that people suffer. Its made me more dedicated to try and find ways to help others.
So, I decided to share some of my knowledge on my blog. Things that I have learned, things I have tried, things that may work for others who may be going through a hard time. One thing I have realized is that when you are having problems you should never revert to closing yourself off from people. That keeps you from being helped or helping others. Sometimes the best thing that you can do when you are having a hard time is to forget yourself in serving. I have found that to help me a lot. I can focus on someone else's problem and trying to help them. Its good to see someone happy. :)
Having this problem for a very long time has given me a lot of insights in my personal strengths and ways to find help. Here are some tips:
1. Write down your feelings; its good to be able to be honest about how you feel to something that wont talk back or get its feelings hurt. Just pour out your soul. It is very therapeutic.
2. Find someone you can talk to/listen to. Its good to have a friend or someone close to you that knows what your going through and that can be there for you. You also need to be helping them so you feel needed.
3. Try and find productive things to do with your time. Hobbies are really good to help you try and keep your mind off of things. You can read a book, draw, paint, go on a walk, run, play a game with someone, computer games, crafts, and lots of other ideas. There are some random things out there that you can find. Theres always something you can do. :)
4. Find faith in something. You need to have something to hold on to. A hope or a dream. Belief in God helps because you know that he will always love you no matter what. Having that knowledge of unconditional love is very helpful, even if you can't believe it or if you can't love yourself, you know that he will always love you. Church helps too, its good to have the support of people.
5. Meditation helps a lot. It keeps you calm. I like to think of my happy place, which is underwater. I envision myself underwater, at the bottom of a clear blue ocean. I can breathe underwater of course ;). I like to think about the gentle push and pull of the tides, my hair reaching up like seaweed, and my skin cool and wet. Try and find the most soothing place. And there are no boundaries of course.
6. Remember that your feelings and thoughts are not who you are. They are just things that you have. Just like your backpack or purse or pen is an object that you use or have, doesn't make it you or a part of you. Try and keep it separate from who you are and how you define yourself.
7. Find someone to talk to. Therapists are great. Try and find one that you feel comfortable with and one that knows your values and supports you in them. Thats what they are there for.
8. Throw away your pride. You can't have this problem and be proud. Thats dangerous. You can't be too proud to take medicine if you have to, or seek help. Not everyone will need to take medicine, but everyone needs the support of others.
9. Remember that your bad thoughts are always false. When you are in a dip, your thoughts are false. Such thoughts like " I am worthless" or "No one wants me" are all lies that you can't tell yourself. If you start to feel that way I will pray or you can think of 10 of your favorite things :) or 5-10 things you are grateful for.
10. LAUGH!! :) That is an amazing help. Find books that are funny, movies, songs, comedians, shows, people, anything. Just be silly. It helps to loosen you up and forget your troubles. Hakuna mata (from the lion king) :) And don't be afraid to be a kid sometimes. Child-like thoughts and ways of thinking helps to keep you feeling light and fluffy. hehe :)
11. Be around people. That can help too. It distracts you from your woes and when we are around people we tend to act happier than we may feel.
12. Get enough sleep.
13. Get enough Vitamins. Vitamin D is essential. You get that from the sunlight. So, even if it is overcast, you need to get off your butt and into the fresh air. It does wonders.
14. Remember that even though we may have weaknesses, doesnt mean we are weak. Everyone has something. Whether its obvious or not. You are never alone. Just keep in mind that the world is full of flawed people.
15. Keep an optimistic outlook on everything. Fight for your right to have joy and be happy.
16. Never give up. A lot of times we fail but we only lose if we stop trying.
17. Oh! I almost forgot! Eat healthy :)

Anyways, that may have been a little too much but I just want to get as much out there as I can. I really don't like to think that there are people out there who feel alone. You need to know that you are never alone and that although things may look really tough right now, you may feel like you are filled with a heaviness you can't shake or explain, you got to have at least a glimmer of hope that someday you will be okay. Because you will. I can promise you. Just don't ever give up. I love you! :) Keep up the good work.
-Sincerely,
Caitlin Ballentine