NOTE: This entry is part of my "Personification Series" where I personify the days of the week into people.
The queen of our high school.
Her perfectly glossy blonde hair and wrinkle-free skirt, glides down the hallway like she owns it. Everyone stops to look and steal a glance at her perfectly coordinated clothes, the mirage of a perfectly made up face, and her graceful, dance-like gait.
If one was lucky, they'd get a smile of perfectly perfect teeth framed in might have been lipstick or natural born beauty. If you were really fortunate, you'd get a wave and an inquisitive "How are you?" followed by plans involving her serene highness that night.
She seems infallible, goddess-like; the highlight of our mundane, high school lives.
Tip-toeing around your feelings blisters my feet
like a seasoned ballet dancer--I keep coming back
not because of the pain, but of the obsession--
the devotion to always be right.
The thudding of my heart during another argument
keeps to the beat of our relationship
as we dance around more subjects, yelling
and ignoring each other in the hallways.
*This scene was edited out of my Song for You series between Galvin and Christie.
“Final boarding call for Flight 623 to Chicago O'Hare International Airport at gate H8.”
Every day is the same.
At times it's monotonous, but it's all I have to hold onto.
Each day I'm collecting bricks and carefully building this wall to hold myself up. There are moments, when I'm drenched in sweat and moments away from collapsing in exhaustion, when I look out over the edge and think how easy it would be to stumble and fall. How easy it would be to carelessly place my foot at a certain angle and fall. Fall so hard and so deep... because that would be a lot easier than having to build this wall to keep myself up.
Then I snap out of it.
If I keep working hard at this back-breaking agonizing work, it will be worth it in the end. I would be better in the end. Going through this struggle and strife will make me stronger. This is what I repeat to myself as I slap on another row of bricks to the drying cement.
And so I pick up another brick and keep building.
As I said in an earlier blog post, "Song for You: A Fateful Melody" (Book 1) began a looooong time ago. I actually worked on it as part of my Capstone in college. That being said, it has undergone years of editing. That means it has been gutted and reframed several times. Below is the original prologue I wrote in high school.
Despite anything that I’ve said or that’s ever been said about us, there wasn’t a moment when I didn’t love him. Even later, when things… unraveled, there was still a tiny frayed thread of love in me, even though I have never admitted it until now. I guess it’s true when they say that you’ll never forget your first love, because I never forgot him—and Lord knows I’ve tried! I mean, how can you forget about someone who helped pave the winding path that led to who you are today, when a memory of that person appears on a large, flashy billboard every fifty miles?
It was a time of distress and hatred. People argued, back-stabbed, stole, and hoarded. During such turmoil, it was hard to believe that anything good could be born out of it. And yet it was during this time of darkness and hatred we meet Rose.
Some people argue that Rose wasn't his real name--that maybe he was a woman hardened by the war and lost more than her femininity. Others believe he adapted the name to promote Chaos. Me? I believe it's a metaphor to RISE ABOVE all else and stay true to yourself.
He rose... and one day so shall I.
The night drips--saturates,
Clouds dab at the stain, smearing the truth-
showing it to us in a different light.
While the moon throbs; pulsating irritably,
like the angry veins of frustration...
Chagrin covers--soaking through,
burning a hole to crawl into.
The onlookers sail on by, through
the sea of ignorance--
rocking on their heels,
trying NOT to stare--
While a gust of lies carries them further,
firmly grabbing, steering their sails,
leading them deeper and farther
from the path of reality.
While cleaning out some boxes at my mother's house, I came across this fictional biographical paper I wrote back in high school (circa 2001) and wanted to share it with you.
Allyssa Brooke. Eight weeks ago that name meant something, it was the name that stood out in neon lights all over the world. It was the name any agent would die to get a hold of. Eight weeks ago she was the darling of Hollywood. Every girl wanted to be her and every guy wanted to get with her. Eight weeks ago...
Allyssa Brooke, daughter of Mirian and Michael Brooke, was born into the world on May 16th, 1983 in Wrightwood, California. After Mirian and Michael's divorce in 1985, Mirian moved to Los Angeles and re-married producer Bryan Matthews with Allyssa in her arms.
Allyssa started acting at age three in her step-father's movies, including her big debut, Gem (1988) where she played a young girl who knew secrets of the world and only her grandfather could teach her how to hone her skills.
She grew up in the life of Shirley Temple, being Hollywood's cherubic, adolescent, angel.
As she entered her pre-teen years, she landed a spot on the popular daytime soap opera, Stormy Village, playing the secret love child between the mischievious and decieving Blanch Rueban & muli-millionaire Cornelius Andrews. Soon after she drifted to a spot on the hit TV show, Morgan & Meadow. She and Christine Rosko played twin sisters who were sent to live with their aunt in a small mysterious town. There they stumble upon a world of fantasy, horror, and wishes come true.
In her teenage years, her mother, Mirian, pushed her to be the next Judy Garland, living her life through her daughters'. Allyssa didn't mind, though. In an interview with UR TV last October she stated, "I cannot complain about anything [in my life]. Some people are better off than me, and I'm better off than some people. I mean I can wake up tomorrow and it could all be gone."
This sweet wholesome girl of Hollywood passed each day with a grin and brought sweet innocence to Hollywood. She made everyone smile and put a skip in their stride, especially to her beau of four years, teenage heartthrob, Taylor Clarke. At the young age of thirteen the two started a serious relationship after Clarke made numerous appearances on Morgan & Meadow, playing Christine Rosko's character's boyfriend.
Soon after her seventeenth birthday, Michael Brooke demanded custody of his one and only daughter, claiming Mirian never let him be a part of his daughter's life. He was granted custody and Allyssa was ripped away from the only life she ever knew. Michael brought Allyssa back to her hometown of Wrightwood where she was to play the hardest role in her career: a real life teenager.
No one tipped their hat to the rising sun
or applauded the purple clouds.
No one answered when the raindrops tapped on shoulders
or soothed the thunder's cries.
No one stood when the wind asked to dance
and the breezes swayed in solitude.
No one thanked the moon for taking the graveyard shift
or winked back at the stars.
No one sang along with the early birds or
raced with the tumbling leaves on the wind.
No waved waved back at the ocean or
said hello to the line of ants on their morning commute.
No one congratulated the sunset on its brilliant use of color
or smiled at the autumn fashion line.
No one asked the owl for an encore
or praised its soothing lullaby
But we all want to curtsy
and take credit for
the beauty Earth provides.
And, being a mother,
she selflessly complies.
Since today is the day the second book in the Song for You series, "A Song of Life," is being release today, I thought I'd give a little background on the story that has been with me for seventeen+ years.
Do you remember being fifteen? I loved that age. Though I was still too young to drink, drive a car, or even leave my parent's house without permission, I remember fifteen being a year where I had a lot of fun and spent a lot of time with friends... especially going to concerts.
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