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Katie

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No Title
 
The misty gloom of the ocean spray filled her nostrils as she sighed deeply. Staring through the crack in the ceiling, Adrianna looked up into the night sky. Shiny tears covered her blotchy red cheeks as she listened to the waves lapping against the shore. Turning over in her small bed, she thought she saw her father and mother in the corner of the room.

"Mom? Dad?" She slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes and looked at the corner. They had vanished. "Please come back, please..." She looked around helplessly for them, but they were gone. She fell back onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow.

"Ady? Is that you?" Auntie Susan came into the room. Ady nodded slowly into her pillow as she continued to cry.

"There, there, hush now, shhh..." Auntie Susan said soothingly as she massaged her back. "It's all right sweets."

"I want Mom and Dad," sobbed Ady.

"I know, I know," Auntie Susan said sighing. All she could do was continue massaging and whispering pleasant and soothing words to try to calm poor Ady down. Ady tried to think of better times before the accident: Christmas time, Easter, birthdays, times of joy and tranquility. But her little ten-year-old mind always came back to the times without harmony.

All of the times she had been mischevious and disobedient, and all of the times she had been difficult and a burden. These times included when she had run away into nearby woods for almost an entire day before coming back very tired and hungry; when she had tried smoking with some friends after school and was caught and grounded for over a month; and most of all, when she hadn't prevented her friends from stealing a CD from the local mall. On the night of the accident, Ady's parents were takin gher to the store to apologize to whomever was in charge to find out what she was going to have to do to make up for her misbehavior.

Ady, being her young and rebellious self, had to be forced into the car by having her phone privelages threatened. Unfortunately, they never made it to the mall. At the last major intersection before they would have turned into the parking lot, a car ran a red light. Her dad having not noticed the car in time didn't swerve or brake, instead they were smashed by the van and, according to the doctors, her parents were killed on impact. Miraculously, Ady was able to walk away with only a few minor bruises and scratches.

Ady was able to leave the site when her God mother, Auntie Susan, picked her up. A few memorials were held by friends and family members in rememberance of the tragedy, and there was a small funeral with only a few family members and family friends. Since Ady only had ten living relatives (three cousins, her uncle, her aunt and her grandparents) with no one who was really her age, she didn't have any to share her troubles with.

Her rebel-friends from school abandoned her as she became sympathetically-popular so she was more than willing when Auntie Susan suggest that the two of them go to the old seaside cottage that Ady's family owned. She and her parents used to go yearly until Ady's father had a job oppertunity he couldn't turn down and they were forced to move to a location a day's-long trip form their cottage when she was seven. They hadn't gone ever since then.

Upon arrival to the familiar place, Ady concluded that the experience wouldn't be good and she wasn't going to let it be. She didn't like it because the house was in obvious need of repair and the lawn was dead and full of weeds.

"We can stay as long as you'd like, Ady, whatever you want," Auntie Susan had said kindly.

 
Title: What I Want and What I Need

I wanted a friend,
a want so strong that it felt rather like a need.

I found out about a keypal service,
I thought that there must've been a purpose.

So I signed up, waited just a week or so,
and what do you know?

I made a new friend,
with whom I thought a friendship would never end!

I was so happy and overjoyed,
I spent endless hours with my friend which would later be destroyed.

Through confusing twists and turns my friendship took,
I felt as though I had been stabbed through my heart, and yet somehow remained alive.

My "friend" wasn't who I thought,
just someone on the internet.... that's all.

I was caught with so many emotions,
which were not about to end.

Internet friends do not last,
but I did not learn fast,
and now my heart of glass is broken.

I still wait for a friend,
the one who may help me mend.

So I sit here and wait,
thinking about my past and forgetting the future.

Hoping and dreaming,
about what will never be.

What I want,
and what I need.


Not a very good poem, I'm sure you'll agree. confused.gif
 

 
 
No Title...
 
Samantha sobbed as she leaned against my shoulder. Hot tears fell from her face to my arm as she cried. After what seemed to be a long time I lifted her to her feet. Her tiny 10-year-old body was shaking as she sobbed. My insides wept, but I couldn’t let my pain show. I was the older one. I was supposed to stay strong. I was supposed to be the one she could come to cry on.

“Is mommy coming back?” her voice squeaked. I couldn’t answer her without showing her that I was sad, and I somehow felt that would make her feel worse so I just hugged her and she got the message. Her whole body shook uncontrollably as I held her close and my own tears were beginning to escape. For some reason I felt compelled to continue life as usual instead of seek help. No one knew of our mother’s flight, and I figured I’d keep it that way. It was no one’s business what went on in my life unless it was at school so I felt no urge to share my burden with others. Anyway, I thought that there was a chance that our father would come back, although I knew mother was gone for some time if not forever. He usually did come back and would apologize to mom and say how dreadfully sorry he was. Of course, that didn’t hold him back from completing the same routine the next week and the week after. It never changed. It started with a stupid fight over something neither of them could really remember. Then dad would say his famous quote “Fine! If you can’t handle your own life, I’ll make it easier and leave!” and then he dramatically would leave the house with a packed suitcase in hand for a night at the local hotel. When this first started, mom would cry for what seemed, and probably was, hours and hours. Samantha usually joined in her crying and so did I at first, but then we stopped after it became something that would happen weekly. I knew as soon as we got home whether or not our parents had had one of their episodes.
 
Mom would be sitting on the couch staring forward at nothing, tears trickling down her cheeks. She wouldn’t bother to wipe them away with the squished unused Kleenex in her hand. Right then I would know that dad had left us and wouldn’t be coming back for a day or two. I was always angered by this, but decided it wasn’t my problem and lived life as though this was supposed to be normal. Lately this routine that had been going on for about five months now was starting to change. Dad still left, but mom would lock the door and when he would come back he would have to sleep outside for a night before mom would allow him in. When I tried to open the door one time when he came back mom yelled at me and grounded me for a week. I decided to allow this new change in program and would casually say a fond hello to my father as I walked in the door and locked it shut after I was through. Then after a month of this, now about six months into the whole thing, mom would threaten my father that if he left her one more time she would follow after his lead and go somewhere far away and never come back. The way she said this I knew that she meant business and she wasn’t going to let up. She would remain away forever unless dad stayed with us. Father said that if he ever came back and she wasn’t here because she had left then he would make us kids suffer by leaving us, too. That was the first time our mom or dad ever mentioned our existence in one of their fights. I was astounded and very hurt. I swept Sammy out of the room because I felt that it was my duty to protect her from the fighting so that she wouldn’t get mixed in or hurt. I told her that dad didn’t mean it even though I could feel her doubt.
When I came home from school earlier today, I could here their shouts from the sidewalk outside our home. I quickly ran up the path to our house and I met my father who was walking out quickly with a suitcase in hand.
“Don’t leave us!” I had cried remembering his promise. He ignored me and turned his red face away from mine. My eyes were quickly starting to water and my body started shaking. “Please,” I had said, my voice was only a squeak. I watched him as he sped away in his car. I headed up to the house hoping to change her mind about her promise to leave. Just as I reached the door handle, the door swung open conking me in the head. For a minute all I could think about was the bruise it was going to make. After quickly recovering, I remembered why mom was leaving in such a hurry.
“WAIT! COME BACK!” I had screamed. She ignored me, and with all of her luggage bags bursting with her favorite things she stuffed them into the car and left. I chased after her crying until she was out of sight and out of reach. I did my best to make myself look better and more cheerful so that Sammy wouldn’t be as upset. To my surprise, she was sitting on the couch with dark circles under her eyes and tearstains on her shirt. That’s when I sat down beside her and she had leaned on me. Everything had seemed so fake before when it was only dad, but now with them both gone, my world had turned into a nightmare.
“I’m going to bed,” Sammy said interrupting my thoughts.
“How about some dinner first?”
“Dinner!” She gave a hollow laugh. I’m sure it would taste much better than mom’s.
“It probably would without her salty tears mixed in.” At this my sister gave a small smile. Ever since the fighting began, mom would cry and the food would always be way to salty. Sammy and I would joke that it was her tears making it so salty rather than her attention span.
“Come on, I’ll make whatever you want.”
“Where are we going to live?” she asked changing the subject.
“Here, where else?” She was silent for a moment and I knew why. I was beginning to have doubts myself. How was I going to afford the bills? The house? The water? The food? The electricity?
“Let’s not worry about that right now. I always think better on a full stomach.” I smiled and then told her to rest on the couch while I cooked some spaghetti.

I still have to break up the big paragraph and check for errors (which I haven't done yet... and I wrote this at night so if anything looks weird tell me...) but critique hard! In other words, say it as it is, whether or not it is harsh because I need to hear it to improve my writing.
This is copyrighted material, so even if its bad don't try to steal it :P
 

 
Where's Woofer?
"Mommy! Mommy!" Amy cried running down the stairs with her blanket pinched under her arm.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" Mommy asked while she cooked breakfast.
"Woofer is gone!" Amy stood up on the stool beside the counter. "I thought I told you to make sure he was tucked in tight in his bed," Amy said shaking her finger at her mommy.
"Did you check everywhere? Perhaps he was hungry, and got some food from his bowl," Mommy suggested. Amy climbed off the stool and looked everywhere. She looked in the clothes basket, she looked in the potty (sometimes he liked to swim), in the cupboard, under Amy’s bed, and Amy even looked in the closet because the monsters might have taken him. Mommy tells Amy every night that there are no monsters in the closet, but Amy told her mommy that she could never be sure because they only appear when you least expect it.
Amy decided there was only one more place to look. That last place would be somewhere in Molly's bedroom. Molly is Amy’s big fourth grade sister! She is already nine years old. Amy thought that maybe Molly took Woofer! Amy stomped into Molly's room. Molly was still asleep.
Amy knew there was only one thing to do in a situation like this. Amy got up on the bed and started bouncing. Amy yelled, "Wake up! Wake up! You silly sleepy-head!" She repeated the same thing over and over again until Molly finally woke up. Molly rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock.
"It's seven o'clock, Amy!" Molly said. She didn't sound to happy.
"Yup! And you took Woofer so I had to wake you up!" Amy cried.
"Why would I hide a pretend dog?" Molly asked.
"He is not pretend! He is real! You just say that because you are jealous!" Amy said.
"You don't even know what jealous means!" Molly told Amy.
"So!" Amy cried, "It doesn't matter. All that matters is you took Woofer!"
Molly rolled her eyes, thought for a minute, and then sighed and said,
 
"Sorry, I took Woofer. You were right all along. I put him…. in the bathtub."
"I knew it!" Amy said punching her fist into her hand with a frown on her face. Amy ran downstairs and into the bathroom. She pulled down the curtain and it fell with a loud crash. Amy gasped.
"Woofer! There you are!" Amy sang. And sure enough, Woofer wagged his tail happily.
"Amy! Are you all right?" Mommy cried looking worried as she ran into the bathroom.
"I found Woofer!" Amy smiled happily. Her mommy didn't look happy at first.
"Daddy isn't going to be happy about the shower curtain falling again, but I'm sure he will be very glad you found your Woofer." Mommy hugged Amy and Amy smiled. Amy had Woofer again!

 
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