BEST PLACE EVER!!!
<3
Friday, May 23, 2008
good bye seniors
So today was the seniors last day at school. They came to school only to clean out their lockers and watch their senior video. I did not get to see any of them today, which really upsets me. I have sat at lunch with seniors all year. Now I will not get to see them until their graduation on June 7th, and then I will probably never see them again. The only form of communication I will have with any of them is via online. But since I only had a connection with them for one year, they probably will not talk to me there either. Which sucks, because I wanted to stay in touch with them for a while. Looking back I kind of wish I did not meet them, because I would not have missed them now. Yes I am happy for them, but I don't want them to forget me, like I know they are going to. I will never forget them.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
2 jobs?
Yeh okay, so after soccer ended last year.. my dad told me i should get a job. so i started fillin out applications to alot of different places. My last resort was mcdonalds... I really dint want to spend my time in that place with all the buzzers and all the bad smells and stuff....but i ended up having no other choice... so i filled out the application... and wut do uk i was like hired that day... i had to go to my school and get working papers.. then bring them to mcdonalds to get them signed, then bring them back to my school where they signed it. Then i had to fill out the paper work at mcdonalds..blah blah... uk how it is... lol.. that was april 1st... april 12th..or something i went to BJs wit the fam.. and subway jus went in there. and since mcdonalds dint call me back yet i filled out an application there... well right after that, mcdonalds calls me... and i started workin there.. today was my first day at subway too.. so now ive worked a day at subway and a week at mcdonalds.. go me....If i have to choose between the two jobs as of now... i would hav to choose subway...25 cents more pay.. not much but still... the people are friendly... the environment is more chill then mcdonalds... they speak english.. most of the time... but spanish isnt too bad.. but mcdonalds is almost always spanish... Not to mention the fact that there is a guy that i work with ... that i kinda wanna get to know more...
This entry is mildly pointless... but it has a big effect on my life.. so i rote it... and if u dint care about it.. u wouldnt hav take the 5 mins or so to read it....
This entry is mildly pointless... but it has a big effect on my life.. so i rote it... and if u dint care about it.. u wouldnt hav take the 5 mins or so to read it....
Monday, April 21, 2008
BEING A TEENAGER SUX!
i hate how much life can change in the matter of 2 weeks... everything was great until the week b4 prom... now idk if things will ever b the same agen... theres some important things i wish i sed... and some little things i wish i dint say.... i should have never done somethings.. or even gotten involved.. this all could hav been avoided ...and alot of feelings would hav gone unhurt... idk...high school drama sux... and i cant wait to get away from it all this summer...
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Remember those Kindergarden Days?
Can’t you remember clinging to your mom the first day of kindergarten?
Remember racing to the front row of the class?
No longer is it playing with blocks
No longer is it playing soccer at recess
No longer is it putting your lunch box in the cubby hole
No longer is it holding the flag for the pledge
School is now getting to class on time
It is now a place of rules and regulations
It is getting two to three hours of homework a night
Oh, how I miss those days of Children’s World
Remember when rocking chairs could be roller coasters,
Bouncing on your bedroom bed meant you were walking on the moon,
Or when swinging high on a swing with your eyes closed meant you were flying through space?
Now we are stuck in this learning prison
From seven twenty five till two fifteen for one hundred and eighty days
That seem to go on forever.
When we are released in June
We are relieved, and we embrace the season of love
Most of us dread the sixth of September, but
No longer do our parents dress us in silly outfits,
Nor take a billion and one pictures,
Now they wake us up and tell us to get ready,
Then we leave and get on a bus or in a car and go to school,
Not once looking back at our parents,
Who once before twelve years ago I was holding on to,
And begging not to make me go to that first day of kindergarten.
But if I was given the chance to go back,
And walk through the doors of Fredrick C. Murphy Primary School again,
And walk into the same kindergarten classroom again, I would within a heartbeat.
For fear that in two years I will be forced to cling to my parents again
Before I start my first year of college,
And face the scary world
My parents tried so hard to protect me from
My entire life.
Remember racing to the front row of the class?
No longer is it playing with blocks
No longer is it playing soccer at recess
No longer is it putting your lunch box in the cubby hole
No longer is it holding the flag for the pledge
School is now getting to class on time
It is now a place of rules and regulations
It is getting two to three hours of homework a night
Oh, how I miss those days of Children’s World
Remember when rocking chairs could be roller coasters,
Bouncing on your bedroom bed meant you were walking on the moon,
Or when swinging high on a swing with your eyes closed meant you were flying through space?
Now we are stuck in this learning prison
From seven twenty five till two fifteen for one hundred and eighty days
That seem to go on forever.
When we are released in June
We are relieved, and we embrace the season of love
Most of us dread the sixth of September, but
No longer do our parents dress us in silly outfits,
Nor take a billion and one pictures,
Now they wake us up and tell us to get ready,
Then we leave and get on a bus or in a car and go to school,
Not once looking back at our parents,
Who once before twelve years ago I was holding on to,
And begging not to make me go to that first day of kindergarten.
But if I was given the chance to go back,
And walk through the doors of Fredrick C. Murphy Primary School again,
And walk into the same kindergarten classroom again, I would within a heartbeat.
For fear that in two years I will be forced to cling to my parents again
Before I start my first year of college,
And face the scary world
My parents tried so hard to protect me from
My entire life.
BITE ME?
this story isnt as good as the ones below it..but it wasnt the best topic either.... so?
Bite Me
Bite me were the only words that were heard after the bell sounded, which told the students of Westwood High School that homeroom had begun. Although they all knew what the bell meant, they did not move, they were too mesmerized by the fight, between Caitlynn and Brianna, going on right in front of them. No one dared to try and break up the fight because they were being vicious towards each other, and they would have redirected their anger to anyone who attempted to interfere. However, it was my job to break them up because I was the only administrative figure in the office at the time.
Since I knew both the girls well it was not that difficult for me to break them up. They both listened and respected me, so all it took was me putting my hands between both of them and pushing them apart and saying enough. After they were separated I brought each girl into my office in the back corner of the main office.
The main office was brightly colored and each desk was decorated to match the personality of the owner. Some had pictures of their families, and pets, others had stickers, and random toys. My office was not too big, but not too small, it had one window that let in sufficient light. Under the window was my desk with my computer and phone on it. I also had a picture of my dog, Larry, and some pictures of my parents and sister. I was not married, and was not dating anyone, so the pictures that would entitle were not to be found. The walls of the room were a light pink, and the carpet was a whitish gray. In front of my desk were two comfortable chairs, and behind it was my computer chair.
When the girls and I were in my office I shut the door, and separated the two chairs so they were on different sides of the room. Then I put my chair between them and told them each to take a seat in each of the chairs. Then I sat down in the middle, on my chair.
I asked them both what had happened, and they both looked at me, and then each other, and then started screaming, and putting the blame of the fight on each other. The only way that I could calm them down was to whistle over them. They refrained from speaking and glanced at me for a second, then glared at each other with pure hatred.
After sitting there in awkward silence for a couple minutes I asked a question, not directed at either of them in specific, but to both of them.
“What happened between you two? You girls used to be best friends; I thought nothing would ever come between you.”
Neither of them could answer me, so I sent Brianna out into the main office and told her to wait there, while I talked to Caitlynn.
Caitlynn was a junior, and was seventeen years old. She was captain of the soccer team, and was in a lot of the clubs at the school. She was the kind of girl that would never get in trouble, she was usually the peace maker, and didn’t agree with violence, and fighting to get what you wanted.
After I came back into my office, and shut the door, Caitlynn looked up at me and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. I moved my chair closer to hers and sat down. She looked at me with her bright blue eyes, and then started crying. I didn’t know what to do. I gave her a hug and said everything would be alright, and told her that she had to talk to me about what happened.
I asked her what happened between her and Brianna. All she could say at the beginning was, “I don’t know.” Then I asked her when the last time she and Brianna had hung out, and out came the whole story, which was interrupted my sobs and sighs from time to time.
“Brianna and I have been friends since we were in kindergarten. We knew everything about each other, we told each other who we liked, who we didn’t, who we thought were hot, and who were not. When one of us liked someone the other one would back off, and promise not to mess with their love life. That worked until Brad moved here from Fredrick High. He was gorgeous, and he was in all of my classes. He and I became close friends, and I grew to like him. Little did I know that Brianna had a crush on him too, even though I had told her that I liked him. He asked me to the homecoming dance and I was so excited, the first thing I wanted to do was tell Brianna, thinking that she would be happy for me. I was very wrong though. When I told her she thought I was rubbing it in her face, and she thought that I was being a b**** to her, because she thought I broke the promise that I made to back off when she liked someone; when really she was the one who broke it.”
“So are you still going to the dance with Brad?”
“YEAH!” “I met Brad first, and I told Brianna that I liked him, and he asked me, why would I say no if my supposed best friend can’t get it through her head that he likes me instead of her? I really don’t care if she’s mad at me, and I know a guy isn’t worth losing a friend over, but I guess she never really was my friend if she’s being a jerk about this.” This response did not really surprise me.
“This is something that you and she will have to work out on your own. You guys have been friends forever; I can’t believe you’re going to let this Brad get between you two. I know you might really like him now, but you just met him, so that will probably change, and you will move on from him, but you won’t be able to do that as quickly if you don’t have a friend that you can talk to about him with.” After I said this to her all she could do was look at me. She didn’t know what to say.
After letting her think for a little while I sent her into the main office to sit and wait where Brianna had been. I brought Brianna back into my office had her sit down, and had her tell me her side of the story. The stories lined up almost exactly. Brianna admitted to being jealous of Caitlynn and said that she was sorry for it, and the fight, and all the drama that she caused. I told Brianna that it wasn’t me that she needed to apologize to it was Caitlynn. So I told Caitlynn to come back into my office, and then I walked out, leaving the two girls sitting there in silence.
When I walked into the main part of the office all the people in the room looked at my office door then at me, then the door, then me. Then one of them asked me why I had just left two girls that had just fought each other in an enclosed room alone.
I didn’t answer; I just walked over to the water machine, pulled a plastic cup out of the dispenser and filled it up. Then I walked back to my office. Knocked and walked in, the girls were standing there, in the middle of the room hugging each other and crying. They were both apologizing to each other, and Brianna told Caitlynn that she should go to the homecoming dance with Brad, and that she would find someone else to go with.
After they were done crying, and talking, I told them that I wasn’t going to have them suspended, but they were going to have two days of in-house suspension, and a week of detention. They agreed with out arguing, and then I sent them out of the office and back to class together. They walked together with their arms locked at the elbows.
I stood in the doorway of my office just so I could watch the reaction of the secretaries in the office as the two girls walked by them hand in hand not fighting, but as friends.
None of them knew how I was able to make them become friends again, and no one asked. But every time there was a fight at the school I was the go to counselor.
And even now, ten years later, I am still working at Westwood High as the fight counselor. Brianna and Caitlynn are still best friends, and both are married. Caitlynn and Brad ended up together with two kids, both of which are the god children of Brianna. And Brianna married someone she met in college. They have one son Caitlynn is the godmother of him.
Bite Me
Bite me were the only words that were heard after the bell sounded, which told the students of Westwood High School that homeroom had begun. Although they all knew what the bell meant, they did not move, they were too mesmerized by the fight, between Caitlynn and Brianna, going on right in front of them. No one dared to try and break up the fight because they were being vicious towards each other, and they would have redirected their anger to anyone who attempted to interfere. However, it was my job to break them up because I was the only administrative figure in the office at the time.
Since I knew both the girls well it was not that difficult for me to break them up. They both listened and respected me, so all it took was me putting my hands between both of them and pushing them apart and saying enough. After they were separated I brought each girl into my office in the back corner of the main office.
The main office was brightly colored and each desk was decorated to match the personality of the owner. Some had pictures of their families, and pets, others had stickers, and random toys. My office was not too big, but not too small, it had one window that let in sufficient light. Under the window was my desk with my computer and phone on it. I also had a picture of my dog, Larry, and some pictures of my parents and sister. I was not married, and was not dating anyone, so the pictures that would entitle were not to be found. The walls of the room were a light pink, and the carpet was a whitish gray. In front of my desk were two comfortable chairs, and behind it was my computer chair.
When the girls and I were in my office I shut the door, and separated the two chairs so they were on different sides of the room. Then I put my chair between them and told them each to take a seat in each of the chairs. Then I sat down in the middle, on my chair.
I asked them both what had happened, and they both looked at me, and then each other, and then started screaming, and putting the blame of the fight on each other. The only way that I could calm them down was to whistle over them. They refrained from speaking and glanced at me for a second, then glared at each other with pure hatred.
After sitting there in awkward silence for a couple minutes I asked a question, not directed at either of them in specific, but to both of them.
“What happened between you two? You girls used to be best friends; I thought nothing would ever come between you.”
Neither of them could answer me, so I sent Brianna out into the main office and told her to wait there, while I talked to Caitlynn.
Caitlynn was a junior, and was seventeen years old. She was captain of the soccer team, and was in a lot of the clubs at the school. She was the kind of girl that would never get in trouble, she was usually the peace maker, and didn’t agree with violence, and fighting to get what you wanted.
After I came back into my office, and shut the door, Caitlynn looked up at me and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. I moved my chair closer to hers and sat down. She looked at me with her bright blue eyes, and then started crying. I didn’t know what to do. I gave her a hug and said everything would be alright, and told her that she had to talk to me about what happened.
I asked her what happened between her and Brianna. All she could say at the beginning was, “I don’t know.” Then I asked her when the last time she and Brianna had hung out, and out came the whole story, which was interrupted my sobs and sighs from time to time.
“Brianna and I have been friends since we were in kindergarten. We knew everything about each other, we told each other who we liked, who we didn’t, who we thought were hot, and who were not. When one of us liked someone the other one would back off, and promise not to mess with their love life. That worked until Brad moved here from Fredrick High. He was gorgeous, and he was in all of my classes. He and I became close friends, and I grew to like him. Little did I know that Brianna had a crush on him too, even though I had told her that I liked him. He asked me to the homecoming dance and I was so excited, the first thing I wanted to do was tell Brianna, thinking that she would be happy for me. I was very wrong though. When I told her she thought I was rubbing it in her face, and she thought that I was being a b**** to her, because she thought I broke the promise that I made to back off when she liked someone; when really she was the one who broke it.”
“So are you still going to the dance with Brad?”
“YEAH!” “I met Brad first, and I told Brianna that I liked him, and he asked me, why would I say no if my supposed best friend can’t get it through her head that he likes me instead of her? I really don’t care if she’s mad at me, and I know a guy isn’t worth losing a friend over, but I guess she never really was my friend if she’s being a jerk about this.” This response did not really surprise me.
“This is something that you and she will have to work out on your own. You guys have been friends forever; I can’t believe you’re going to let this Brad get between you two. I know you might really like him now, but you just met him, so that will probably change, and you will move on from him, but you won’t be able to do that as quickly if you don’t have a friend that you can talk to about him with.” After I said this to her all she could do was look at me. She didn’t know what to say.
After letting her think for a little while I sent her into the main office to sit and wait where Brianna had been. I brought Brianna back into my office had her sit down, and had her tell me her side of the story. The stories lined up almost exactly. Brianna admitted to being jealous of Caitlynn and said that she was sorry for it, and the fight, and all the drama that she caused. I told Brianna that it wasn’t me that she needed to apologize to it was Caitlynn. So I told Caitlynn to come back into my office, and then I walked out, leaving the two girls sitting there in silence.
When I walked into the main part of the office all the people in the room looked at my office door then at me, then the door, then me. Then one of them asked me why I had just left two girls that had just fought each other in an enclosed room alone.
I didn’t answer; I just walked over to the water machine, pulled a plastic cup out of the dispenser and filled it up. Then I walked back to my office. Knocked and walked in, the girls were standing there, in the middle of the room hugging each other and crying. They were both apologizing to each other, and Brianna told Caitlynn that she should go to the homecoming dance with Brad, and that she would find someone else to go with.
After they were done crying, and talking, I told them that I wasn’t going to have them suspended, but they were going to have two days of in-house suspension, and a week of detention. They agreed with out arguing, and then I sent them out of the office and back to class together. They walked together with their arms locked at the elbows.
I stood in the doorway of my office just so I could watch the reaction of the secretaries in the office as the two girls walked by them hand in hand not fighting, but as friends.
None of them knew how I was able to make them become friends again, and no one asked. But every time there was a fight at the school I was the go to counselor.
And even now, ten years later, I am still working at Westwood High as the fight counselor. Brianna and Caitlynn are still best friends, and both are married. Caitlynn and Brad ended up together with two kids, both of which are the god children of Brianna. And Brianna married someone she met in college. They have one son Caitlynn is the godmother of him.
To die?
What is it like to be dead?
Have you ever wandered how you would die, or how your friends would react? What your funeral would be like, or who would love or respect you enough to show up at your funeral? Well my best friend and I have. This topic randomly came up one night when she was sleeping over my house. She had just gotten into a fight with a really close guy friend of hers, over the phone, and was really upset about it. They had previously dated but are now almost like brother and sister. This had not been their first fight, not at all. It seems that they are fighting and arguing every time she is with me. They always seem to get over the fights quickly, though, but the time in between fights is not long lasted.
But anyway back to the conversation we had. It could not have been more than three weeks ago that she was over my house and on her phone talking to her friend Cody. Well, it was not something that you could consider talking; they were more like yelling at each other, but at a normal volume, that only lasted until Tammy started crying because she was so upset and stressed out. This seemed to aggravate Cody, but he got the message and chilled out slightly. After they got off the phone, like twenty minutes later my sister and her friends had gotten their and were sitting in the room with us.
I could tell that Tammy was still very upset about her encounter with Cody because her eyes were still glassy with tears. She asked me what I think she should do about Cody; my reply was to let him go and see if he went back to her. Her reaction could have been predicted by anyone.
“I wish I could, but I can’t bring myself to let him go because what if he doesn’t come back to me?” replied Tammy, barely audible because she was starting to cry again, “I don’t know what I would do if he died, like I don’t even think I would be able to go to his funeral because I would be a mental wreck.”
Although I knew she would be a mental wreck if anything happened to Cody, I knew if she didn’t go to his funeral then she would regret it the rest of her life.
“Tammy, believe me, if anything was to happen to Cody, God forbid, but if anything was to happen, I would bring you there myself, because I know you would regret not going the rest of your life. No matter how mad you were at him, you would never not be able to go to Cody’s funeral,” were the only words that I could formulate in my head to say to her at the time. Just the thought of him dying or anyone dying for that matter, and lying lifeless in a box awaiting the burial into the six foot deep grave, made me very depressed. Needless to say after this conversation we were not in the greatest mood, neither was my sister or her friends.
So there were five depressed girls sitting in a room, on a fold out couch bed doing nothing. So we went down stairs and raided the cabinets… and what did we find? A bag of Hershey kisses. But not just any bag of Hershey kisses, the little white flags said different things on them, rather then just the original that say “Hershey Kiss” on them. No, these said sayings such as “Ouch,” “I like you,” “I miss recess,” “You love me,” and “Big Hugs.” So we brought the bag of those and the bag of M&Ms back upstairs to the family room where we were sleeping.
For the next hour to hour and a half we sat there and just ate them and threw M&Ms at each other trying to catch them in our mouths. After about the first three minutes the depressed mood had passed and we were in a happy, spastic mood because of the chocolate consumption, and the amount of sugar that was going into our bodies. We were laughing at things that were not funny, and were just not being ourselves. Then we crashed. Our sugar highs lasted for that hour to hour and a half that we enjoyed the chocolate, but after we had stopped, we were done. We shut the lights off, talked for a little while, and then went to bed around one o’clock in the morning.
* * *
The next morning I couldn’t wake up. It was the weirdest feeling I had ever experienced. It was like someone or something had locked my eyelids shut, and immobilized my body. But I realized that when I sat up I was no longer part of my body. I was like a ghost. I was transparent, but not completely, the outline of my hands, legs, and body were visible to me, but when I looked at my reflection, or where my reflection would be, nothing was looking back at me. I went into panic mode, I tried waking up Tammy, my sister, and her friends… none of them moved, or even acknowledged the fact that I was there.
I got up and ran downstairs to the main level of my house, and then up a different flight of stairs leading to my parents, mine, and my sister’s bedrooms. I reached for the door knob of my parent’s room, but my hand just went right through the door. So I attempted something that I never imagined doing, I walked through the solid wood door, and ended up on the other side, with no problem.
My goal in going into my parent’s room was not to see if my parents could see me, or feel my presence, but if my dog, Spike, could. He was passed out in his porta-crib at the foot of my parent’s bed. I slowly walked over to him, and rested my hand on him, making sure not to let my hand go through him. I noticed that I could no longer feel his soft fur or anything at all.
When Spike didn’t notice that I was there, it started to freak me out even more. I ran out the door, down the flight of stairs, and back up to the family room, where I sat next to my body, and waited for everyone to wake up and notice my lifeless body, lying on the bed, apparently asleep, but for longer then anyone knew.
As time passed I became bored, I waited a total of two hours before Tammy woke up and found me. She had tried waking me up to say that she had to get ready to go because she had work, but when I didn’t wake up she put her hand in front of my mouth to see if I was breathing. When she didn’t feel anything she went into shock, her reaction was quiet, she didn’t scream, nor did she cry. She just sat there. Confused. Lost. Then she woke up my sister.
My sister didn’t know what to do. She, like Tammy was confused, however she did cry. She broke down; this made Tammy start to cry too. The combined sound of them crying woke up Nicole and Emily. When they woke up they just stared blankly at Tammy and Melissa. They asked why they were crying.
The answer was not understandable, because they were talking through tears. The only thing that Nicole and Emily understood was Melissa pointing at my lifeless body. They didn’t believe my sister or Tammy. They thought that it was a joke, and just giggled stupidly, like it was no big deal. Then Melissa got her voice together enough to say, “I’m not kidding, she died.” Nicole, still not believing climbed on the bed between Melissa, Tammy, and me, and tried to get a pulse, when that attempt failed, she tried waking me up. When she failed at that too, she started freaking out. She just started talking extremely fast, so that no one could understand her, and then she started to tear up. Emily didn’t know what to do. She sat there in shock, trying not to cry, but failed in that attempt.
Melissa slowly made her way downstairs to tell my parents of my death, but only made it a few steps, and then she fell. I walked over, and helped her up, even though she couldn’t see or feel me, I felt it necessary that I help her. I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Where my parents were standing talking about a family trip we were supposed to go on in the summer. When she walked into the kitchen balling her eyes out my parents just stopped what they were doing, and stared at her. They asked her what was wrong, but she could not bring herself to say. So she just cried even more. She just turned around and walked back up the stairs to the family room. My parents being interested followed. They knew they were not going to get an answer out of her so they just walked up the stairs behind her. And I followed a few steps behind them.
When we were back in the family room, I took my seat next to my body. My parents still were clueless to why everyone was crying until they saw that I was not part of that group. I was still lying on the bed, motionless as if asleep. My parents put everything together, and then like everyone else, checked to see if I was faking it, or if I had really passed on. When they found out that I was no longer living, they began to cry. I didn’t think my dad could cry as much as he did. I had never seen him actually cry, except at that moment. My mom was almost as bad as my sister was. I had seen her cry before, but not like this. She was in shock, and didn’t believe that this had happened.
I was amused by how everyone was reacting; I had wandered what would happen if I died. Of course I didn’t expect it to happen when I was so young. I planned on living until I was old, and had gray hair, but at that moment I was not too upset about my lost dreams. I was more concerned with who would go to my funeral. There were a few people that I had met camping that I never got to see again after I met them, and I want them to go so I could see them, even if they couldn’t see me alive. But I doubt my parents would be able to know that I wanted those people to be there.
* * *
It was the day of my wake and funeral. Two days after I had moved on to this ghostly stage. I had seen my parents cry, I had seen them skip work because they were too depressed, and I had seen my sister stay home from school. This kind of surprised me because she and I fight constantly. We just recently started to get along, and were now almost friends, but we still fought over stupid little things that didn’t matter. So in me dying it brought her to appreciate me more, even though I thought it was too late.
My wake was an open casket, which I feel like is better, because I know personally if I can’t see the person then I don’t believe they are there. I was dressed in my Jr. Prom dress, that I didn’t get to wear, and my make up was done as if I was ready to go to the dance right then and there.
My parents had spread the news to it seemed like everyone in my family, people that I hadn’t seen in years were there. Also the news got back to the school systems. There was an announcement about it saying when the wake and funeral was, and that I had died, even though no one knew the cause of my death.
All of my friends, previous teachers, most of my classmates, and some random people went to the wake. Some people were crying, some were trying not to, and some were being strong for the people that couldn’t keep it together. I was walking around the room, seeing who was there, who was talking to whom, and people’s reactions, when I saw a kid walk in, I recognized him slightly, but not completely. I heard him say his name was Matt, and he was wearing a T-Shirt and a hat that said Fox on it, and I knew it was Matt from a campground that I had gone to. He was someone that I hadn’t seen in almost five years, but I had talked to him online from time to time. He had grown up nicely, and for the rest of my wake, I followed him around.
After the wake was the funeral. I followed Matt to the cemetery which was right outside the funeral home, and went to follow him to a seat, but I couldn’t. My body was being pulled up to the alter, where my casket was being brought. I couldn’t force myself to stay where I was. I didn’t want to leave Matt, or anyone else for that matter. It hadn’t really hit me that I had died until that moment. When I was being pulled away from my life. Before I realized it I was at the alter, next to my parents. I looked at them, and they looked through me, down at my body, which lied lifeless in the wooden box. I kissed my mom, dad, and sister on the cheek, and then I was sucked into the casket like a vacuum. It was like I was supposed to die along with my body. But I didn’t want to. The box wouldn’t let me escape. It was as if I was solid again. I found myself kicking and screaming trying to get out of the locked box.
* * *
The next thing I noticed was someone calling my name, they were telling me to wake up. I felt someone moving my body trying to get me to stop trying to kick them off the bed. I opened my eyes, and saw the light of the sun shining in the big room. I looked over to my left, and there was Tammy, Melissa, Nicole, and Emily, sitting there, staring blankly at me. A big sigh of relief came to me when I looked at my body, and was able to see that I was there, and was able to sit up without leaving part of me behind. They asked me what was wrong, and the only things I could come up with to say was, “I guess I shouldn’t eat Hershey Kisses before bed,” and that I told my sister that I loved her, because I know that I don’t say that to her as often as I probably should.
Have you ever wandered how you would die, or how your friends would react? What your funeral would be like, or who would love or respect you enough to show up at your funeral? Well my best friend and I have. This topic randomly came up one night when she was sleeping over my house. She had just gotten into a fight with a really close guy friend of hers, over the phone, and was really upset about it. They had previously dated but are now almost like brother and sister. This had not been their first fight, not at all. It seems that they are fighting and arguing every time she is with me. They always seem to get over the fights quickly, though, but the time in between fights is not long lasted.
But anyway back to the conversation we had. It could not have been more than three weeks ago that she was over my house and on her phone talking to her friend Cody. Well, it was not something that you could consider talking; they were more like yelling at each other, but at a normal volume, that only lasted until Tammy started crying because she was so upset and stressed out. This seemed to aggravate Cody, but he got the message and chilled out slightly. After they got off the phone, like twenty minutes later my sister and her friends had gotten their and were sitting in the room with us.
I could tell that Tammy was still very upset about her encounter with Cody because her eyes were still glassy with tears. She asked me what I think she should do about Cody; my reply was to let him go and see if he went back to her. Her reaction could have been predicted by anyone.
“I wish I could, but I can’t bring myself to let him go because what if he doesn’t come back to me?” replied Tammy, barely audible because she was starting to cry again, “I don’t know what I would do if he died, like I don’t even think I would be able to go to his funeral because I would be a mental wreck.”
Although I knew she would be a mental wreck if anything happened to Cody, I knew if she didn’t go to his funeral then she would regret it the rest of her life.
“Tammy, believe me, if anything was to happen to Cody, God forbid, but if anything was to happen, I would bring you there myself, because I know you would regret not going the rest of your life. No matter how mad you were at him, you would never not be able to go to Cody’s funeral,” were the only words that I could formulate in my head to say to her at the time. Just the thought of him dying or anyone dying for that matter, and lying lifeless in a box awaiting the burial into the six foot deep grave, made me very depressed. Needless to say after this conversation we were not in the greatest mood, neither was my sister or her friends.
So there were five depressed girls sitting in a room, on a fold out couch bed doing nothing. So we went down stairs and raided the cabinets… and what did we find? A bag of Hershey kisses. But not just any bag of Hershey kisses, the little white flags said different things on them, rather then just the original that say “Hershey Kiss” on them. No, these said sayings such as “Ouch,” “I like you,” “I miss recess,” “You love me,” and “Big Hugs.” So we brought the bag of those and the bag of M&Ms back upstairs to the family room where we were sleeping.
For the next hour to hour and a half we sat there and just ate them and threw M&Ms at each other trying to catch them in our mouths. After about the first three minutes the depressed mood had passed and we were in a happy, spastic mood because of the chocolate consumption, and the amount of sugar that was going into our bodies. We were laughing at things that were not funny, and were just not being ourselves. Then we crashed. Our sugar highs lasted for that hour to hour and a half that we enjoyed the chocolate, but after we had stopped, we were done. We shut the lights off, talked for a little while, and then went to bed around one o’clock in the morning.
* * *
The next morning I couldn’t wake up. It was the weirdest feeling I had ever experienced. It was like someone or something had locked my eyelids shut, and immobilized my body. But I realized that when I sat up I was no longer part of my body. I was like a ghost. I was transparent, but not completely, the outline of my hands, legs, and body were visible to me, but when I looked at my reflection, or where my reflection would be, nothing was looking back at me. I went into panic mode, I tried waking up Tammy, my sister, and her friends… none of them moved, or even acknowledged the fact that I was there.
I got up and ran downstairs to the main level of my house, and then up a different flight of stairs leading to my parents, mine, and my sister’s bedrooms. I reached for the door knob of my parent’s room, but my hand just went right through the door. So I attempted something that I never imagined doing, I walked through the solid wood door, and ended up on the other side, with no problem.
My goal in going into my parent’s room was not to see if my parents could see me, or feel my presence, but if my dog, Spike, could. He was passed out in his porta-crib at the foot of my parent’s bed. I slowly walked over to him, and rested my hand on him, making sure not to let my hand go through him. I noticed that I could no longer feel his soft fur or anything at all.
When Spike didn’t notice that I was there, it started to freak me out even more. I ran out the door, down the flight of stairs, and back up to the family room, where I sat next to my body, and waited for everyone to wake up and notice my lifeless body, lying on the bed, apparently asleep, but for longer then anyone knew.
As time passed I became bored, I waited a total of two hours before Tammy woke up and found me. She had tried waking me up to say that she had to get ready to go because she had work, but when I didn’t wake up she put her hand in front of my mouth to see if I was breathing. When she didn’t feel anything she went into shock, her reaction was quiet, she didn’t scream, nor did she cry. She just sat there. Confused. Lost. Then she woke up my sister.
My sister didn’t know what to do. She, like Tammy was confused, however she did cry. She broke down; this made Tammy start to cry too. The combined sound of them crying woke up Nicole and Emily. When they woke up they just stared blankly at Tammy and Melissa. They asked why they were crying.
The answer was not understandable, because they were talking through tears. The only thing that Nicole and Emily understood was Melissa pointing at my lifeless body. They didn’t believe my sister or Tammy. They thought that it was a joke, and just giggled stupidly, like it was no big deal. Then Melissa got her voice together enough to say, “I’m not kidding, she died.” Nicole, still not believing climbed on the bed between Melissa, Tammy, and me, and tried to get a pulse, when that attempt failed, she tried waking me up. When she failed at that too, she started freaking out. She just started talking extremely fast, so that no one could understand her, and then she started to tear up. Emily didn’t know what to do. She sat there in shock, trying not to cry, but failed in that attempt.
Melissa slowly made her way downstairs to tell my parents of my death, but only made it a few steps, and then she fell. I walked over, and helped her up, even though she couldn’t see or feel me, I felt it necessary that I help her. I followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Where my parents were standing talking about a family trip we were supposed to go on in the summer. When she walked into the kitchen balling her eyes out my parents just stopped what they were doing, and stared at her. They asked her what was wrong, but she could not bring herself to say. So she just cried even more. She just turned around and walked back up the stairs to the family room. My parents being interested followed. They knew they were not going to get an answer out of her so they just walked up the stairs behind her. And I followed a few steps behind them.
When we were back in the family room, I took my seat next to my body. My parents still were clueless to why everyone was crying until they saw that I was not part of that group. I was still lying on the bed, motionless as if asleep. My parents put everything together, and then like everyone else, checked to see if I was faking it, or if I had really passed on. When they found out that I was no longer living, they began to cry. I didn’t think my dad could cry as much as he did. I had never seen him actually cry, except at that moment. My mom was almost as bad as my sister was. I had seen her cry before, but not like this. She was in shock, and didn’t believe that this had happened.
I was amused by how everyone was reacting; I had wandered what would happen if I died. Of course I didn’t expect it to happen when I was so young. I planned on living until I was old, and had gray hair, but at that moment I was not too upset about my lost dreams. I was more concerned with who would go to my funeral. There were a few people that I had met camping that I never got to see again after I met them, and I want them to go so I could see them, even if they couldn’t see me alive. But I doubt my parents would be able to know that I wanted those people to be there.
* * *
It was the day of my wake and funeral. Two days after I had moved on to this ghostly stage. I had seen my parents cry, I had seen them skip work because they were too depressed, and I had seen my sister stay home from school. This kind of surprised me because she and I fight constantly. We just recently started to get along, and were now almost friends, but we still fought over stupid little things that didn’t matter. So in me dying it brought her to appreciate me more, even though I thought it was too late.
My wake was an open casket, which I feel like is better, because I know personally if I can’t see the person then I don’t believe they are there. I was dressed in my Jr. Prom dress, that I didn’t get to wear, and my make up was done as if I was ready to go to the dance right then and there.
My parents had spread the news to it seemed like everyone in my family, people that I hadn’t seen in years were there. Also the news got back to the school systems. There was an announcement about it saying when the wake and funeral was, and that I had died, even though no one knew the cause of my death.
All of my friends, previous teachers, most of my classmates, and some random people went to the wake. Some people were crying, some were trying not to, and some were being strong for the people that couldn’t keep it together. I was walking around the room, seeing who was there, who was talking to whom, and people’s reactions, when I saw a kid walk in, I recognized him slightly, but not completely. I heard him say his name was Matt, and he was wearing a T-Shirt and a hat that said Fox on it, and I knew it was Matt from a campground that I had gone to. He was someone that I hadn’t seen in almost five years, but I had talked to him online from time to time. He had grown up nicely, and for the rest of my wake, I followed him around.
After the wake was the funeral. I followed Matt to the cemetery which was right outside the funeral home, and went to follow him to a seat, but I couldn’t. My body was being pulled up to the alter, where my casket was being brought. I couldn’t force myself to stay where I was. I didn’t want to leave Matt, or anyone else for that matter. It hadn’t really hit me that I had died until that moment. When I was being pulled away from my life. Before I realized it I was at the alter, next to my parents. I looked at them, and they looked through me, down at my body, which lied lifeless in the wooden box. I kissed my mom, dad, and sister on the cheek, and then I was sucked into the casket like a vacuum. It was like I was supposed to die along with my body. But I didn’t want to. The box wouldn’t let me escape. It was as if I was solid again. I found myself kicking and screaming trying to get out of the locked box.
* * *
The next thing I noticed was someone calling my name, they were telling me to wake up. I felt someone moving my body trying to get me to stop trying to kick them off the bed. I opened my eyes, and saw the light of the sun shining in the big room. I looked over to my left, and there was Tammy, Melissa, Nicole, and Emily, sitting there, staring blankly at me. A big sigh of relief came to me when I looked at my body, and was able to see that I was there, and was able to sit up without leaving part of me behind. They asked me what was wrong, and the only things I could come up with to say was, “I guess I shouldn’t eat Hershey Kisses before bed,” and that I told my sister that I loved her, because I know that I don’t say that to her as often as I probably should.
My first story
One day a young girl was walking down the street, the same street she walked down so many times before, listening to her favorite song on her IPod nano. She had just walked by my house; little did I know that this girl would change my life forever.
At the time I was twelve, I’m not sure how old Emily was, and I’m guessing she was ten. I had just moved into the neighborhood, and she was the first person I had met, not to mention the only girl, besides my mom, who I had met.
While I was unpacking my comic books she came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. She made me jump, and I dropped the box, and it broke. My comic books were everywhere, it was a little embarrassing. But Emily just smiled, and knelt down to help me pick them up.
We spent the rest of the day together her and I. We talked, and laughed, and joked, and played, I was so surprised that a girl could be just as much fun to be around as a guy. All the time I never realized that I had begun to love her, well that is until her sixteenth birthday party.
* * *
During those six years we stayed close. We were never anything more than friends, and I was the guy her dad ever trusted. Yes, I dated, and yes she dated, but our relationship was always stronger. She had her girlfriends, and I had my guy friends, but we both knew that if anything ever happened we had each other. Up until then everything was great, we told each other everything, we hung out everyday, and we always did our homework together. Then something happened to her, something that no one could explain. She was kidnapped. No one saw or heard it happen, she had told me she was going to get the door, but she never came back.
After about ten minutes I started to really worry. I went inside, and asked her mom, Sue, if she had seen her, and she replied, “no, but if you see her will you tell her to see me?” I said yes, and asked her to do the same thing for me.
An hour passed and still Emily had not been seen. I called 911, and asked to speak to the police; they said that they would have an investigator sent right over.
2 hours in and the cops are just starting to question people. I was the first person they interrogated, I answered there questions, and they took my fingerprints and DNA, and I went home. I tried calling Emily on her cell phone, but it went right to voicemail. Then I went to bed.
When I woke up Emily’s house was lined with yellow tape, which read, “CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS.” I then went to her favorite spot in the whole town, the big oak tree, next to the lake, in the center of the town. I went there to think, and to get away from everything, and everybody. I sat down under the tree on the big rock where Emily and I had done so many times before. I looked down at my feet and then to the ground, and I saw a white envelope, “To whoever finds this.” It was written in Emily’s writing! I opened it hastily and written inside was a paragraph scribbled on the piece of paper. It said
“If you are reading, this, you have probably realized that I have been taken. I am not sure where this letter has ended up, but I would like it to be put in the hands of my best friend, Kevin Sampson (that’s me) Kevin when you read this, do not show it to the cops. I was put into a white van, which said something in Spanish on the side. I got the license plate number…765 DED from Florida (I think) PLEASE HELP ME!!!
Emily”
As soon as I read it I knew I needed to tell someone, even if Emily did not want me too. I told the cops the plate number, and described the van. They asked me how I knew this information, but I told them that I could not tell them, and they would have to trust me.
I then got on my bike and began riding around town, looking in garages, alleys, and in parking lots, for the described vehicle. I had no luck. It soon got dark, and late, my parents would start to worry if I did not get back. I went home to find my parents out looking for me. I explained what I had been doing, and they lectured me in leaving it to the police, and how, especially during this time, that they no where I was. I apologized even though I didn’t mean it, and I went up to bed.
The next morning I was the first one awake and I left a note saying that I went out, and would be back later. Then I got on my bike and continued my search for the white van.
* * *
Emily woke up to a bumpy car ride, she couldn’t move because she was bound to a metal pole in the back of the van. She could hear the man who had taken her singing to some old rock and roll music, and she could smell a strong smoke. She opened her eyes, and swathe dirty seat on which she laid, broken beer bottles, and many unlabeled boxes.
Then with a small jerk (the car turned) she fell off the seat, and onto the floor with a, “thud.” She just barely missed a piece of broken glass.
The car then stopped and the music ceased. The man then got out of the car, opened the back door and took Emily out of it. She recognized where she was, she was still in her town. She was praying to god that the man would switch cars, so that someone would find the van and call the police. Her prayer came true; the man gave Emily a bag of chips, and put her in a small car. This car was much cleaner, and did not smell (yet). The man then got in the front and told Emily that if she just sat there, and stayed quiet he would not tie her up. Emily did not say anything; she just stared at the man, trying to get every detail of his face, his hair, and his voice. Then she turned and stared out the window, to pay attention to where he was bringing her.
* * *
I was still looking around town for the white van, when my mom pulled up beside me in her car. She told me to get in, but I did not listen, I was determined to be Emily’s hero. I turned and drove down a small alley that my mother could not fit down in the car. I turned around when I was half way through the alley and I saw her standing outside her care shaking her head. I knew the consequences of my actions, but I did not care; all I cared about was Emily.
This alley was not familiar to me, and when I came out on the other side I was in a parking lot. When I realized where I was, I looked around, and on the other side of the parking lot I saw the white van with something written in Spanish on the side. It had the license plate “765 DED” on the back.
I opened the door, and prayed to god that she was not in there. She wasn’t, but what I did find was her chain, that I gave her for her twelfth birthday. Then I found her cell phone on the dirty floor of the van. There was one voicemail message; I got the message, and found that it was a ransom message, and I called the police. I told them where I was, by giving the directions I took, they were able to find where I was, and took the more direct route. I showed them the chain, and the cell phone, I let them listen to the voicemail. The cops told me that they would record the message, and give the phone back to me, incase anyone should call it.
The voicemail was:
-I have your precious friend, Emily; she is alive, and behaving. But if you ever want to see her again you must send Kevin Sampson to me with $1,000,000.00 cash, and you can have Emily back-
He never said where or when I had to meet him, I think I’ll leave that to the cops. I went home; I completely forgot that I had run away from my mom, so when I walked in the door she went ballistic. Then, when she was done, I told her what had happened, and she was in complete shock, so I went to my room. When I was up there, and my door was closed, I heard my cell phone beeping. I went over to my bed on which it lay, and picked it up; it said that I had a new voicemail message. It was EMILY! She sounded rushed, and confused.
-Kevin, I can’t talk long, I wanted to tell you that I am in a little black car with the license plate number “224-URD.” I also wanted you to know that I am okay, and I miss you. The last time I saw a sign was like a half hour ago, and it said, you are now leaving Westport, and entering Eastport. HELP KEVIN! Tell my parents I love them and I’ll be back hopefully soon. I have to go, bye.-
I listened to it multiple times, and then I called Emily’s parents, and told them what she wanted me to tell them. Then I called the cops, and they came by and picked me up and brought me to the police station. They put an alert on the police radio about the little black car with a license plate “224-URD.”
Then the sheriff told me what we were going to do about the ransom. He told me that he would get the money, and that I would have to call “our guy,” and tell him, where I will meet him. We will know exactly where you are, but we will not be there.
After we listened to the tape again, but this time the background had been enhanced, and Emily’s voice was taken out. I could hear little kids screaming, and I could hear the sound of ocean waves hitting the shore, and rocks. The cops told me to go home, and not to go looking for her.
Although I promised that I wouldn’t go looking for Emily, I could not help myself. She had now been missing for almost three days, and I was starting to miss her, more than I could handle. So I left the police station, and went to my house. I got my keys, got in my car, and set off for a beach in Eastport.
When I arrived there I saw the little black car with the license plate number “224-URD,” I heard the same ocean waves, that I had heard on the phone. I got out of my car, and walked over to the little black car, and looked inside, I again found a message. It was written in the dust on the dashboard. It said, “HELP, I think I’m done for!” And that’s all it said.
I called the cops, and I told them how I disobeyed them, then I told them that I had found the car. Although furious that I had disobeyed them, they were pleased that something good had come from it.
One of the cops saw a piece of paper in the cassette slot. He took it out, and read it, and then he handed it to me. It said, “Tomorrow at the closest shipyard, and to be there at noon.”
After I read it, my heart started racing. I would meet the person that kidnapped Emily tomorrow. I would see Emily tomorrow! I will be her hero! What if she’s not there? What if this is a setup? What if she’s dead? All these thoughts were racing through my mind
I went home, walked straight past my [worrying] parents, and directly to my room, without a word. When I got there I heard my parents clobbering up the stairs, so I locked my door, and started to change. When my parents tried to enter my room I told them that I was changing, and then going to bed, and not to disturb me.
Although shocked by what I said to them they listened, which surprised me. They said that if I was hungry, (which I was) there is food in the fridge, but I’d rather starve then tell them what happened earlier that day. So I found some granola bars in my room, and ate a couple of them. Then I went to bed after setting my alarm clock for 9:00 AM.
When I woke up I quickly got myself ready, and grabbed a couple more chewy bars, and got in my car, and drove to the police station. I got there at 9:35 AM, and I could only find one of the cops that were helping me on this case. I hung out in his office, and I even got one of his beloved doughnuts.
Soon Alfred and I, (the cop who gave me the doughnut) went to the meeting room, where we met the other officers on the case. Now it was 11:15, so we all went to the nearest shipyard, I got to drive Alfred’s police cruiser. (I have to say under any other circumstance that would have been the highlight of my day.) But right now all I cared about was seeing Emily, [I hoped.]
When we go there, we stopped by a gate. I got out of the car, and saw a message written in the sand, it said-
-send Kevin (only) in with the $1,000,000-
The cops agreed to let me go in, and they said they would surround the shipyard. If I did not come out in an hour they would send someone in. I said okay, and entered the shipyard.
I followed the signs that told me where to go, and I finally reached a boat chair in the middle of a clearing. I walked over to it, and saw that it said, “Kevin sit here, and wait for me, and Emily.” So I sat. And I waited.
After what felt like twenty minutes, I saw something move on one of the boats. I got up, and slowly walked over to the boat, holding the money as tightly as I could, and I said Emily’s name, trying as hard as I could to show no fear in my voice. There was no answer, but I walked to the swim platform, at the rear of the boat, climbed up the ladder that was place there. When I got up there I looked inside the cabin, and saw Emily tied to a bed inside. I dropped the money, and ran down to help Emily. Realizing too late of the mistake that I had just made. I lost my only leverage, my only bargaining chip. He, the man that I had been dreading to meet was standing behind me, holding the bag in his hands, and staring at me. I turned around, and I was shocked to see my best friend Carl Jacobs standing there. The only word I could say was, “why?” He did not have a response, he just stood in the same spot, and didn’t move, and just stared at me.
I broke the silence, by saying, “you have your money now let us go.” I then realized that I had made another mistake.
Carl took out a gun, and pointed it at me. Although I was very nervous that these could be the last moments of my life, I did not show it though, because of Emily, and because if you show fear, then it gives your enemy power. I started to talk to him. I told him he would be making a life changing mistake, and would probably have life in prison, rather then a few years. Then, since that did not seem to work; I told him, that he would regret doing what he was about to do. I reminded him of how I had been there for him when his father had committed suicide, and how I was there for him when he first moved here.
I new that had worked, because I saw him lower the gun a little, and I saw that his dull green eyes were glassy, and wet. When he blinked the tear that had built up in his eye, fell upon his cheek, and continued down the side of his face, leaving a muddy path where it passed (because he was so dirty). Then with a loud clunk the gun fell free from his hand, and hit the floor with a loud “CLUNK,” which made me and Carl jump, because of the loud noise against the silence of the shipyard.
I grabbed the gun off the floor, and held it up for protection, and leverage on Carl. I ran down into the cabin, fallowing Carl so he couldn’t run. I untied Emily which was difficult, because she was unconscious. Although difficult, I managed to carry Emily down the ladder, while forcing Carl to do the same. I led Carl to where he cops were, Emily in my arms. When we reached the entrance gate, Albert ran over, as fast as he could, he fumbled with the handcuffs, and put them on Carl’s hands. I carried Emily over to where the paramedics were waiting, and then I told one of the cops where the bag of money was. I then got in the ambulance with Emily to go to the hospital.
I stayed at the hospital all night, waiting for Emily to wake up. She didn’t. Well, she didn’t till the next afternoon. She was thrilled to see me, and very anxious to know how I managed to save her. I told her the whole story, and what happened on the boat.
The doctor’s said that Emily would be released in a couple hours. So I went to the cafeteria to have lunch, while they ran tests on Emily.
After I ate, I went back to Emily’s room, and waited till she was released. I drover her home, and walked her up to the door. And that’s when it happened. I leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed me back, and we finally felt that we had been completed. Her father opened the door, and interrupted our moment, but I couldn’t blame him. I told Emily that I would call her later, and then I went home. I told my parents the whole story. I new they wanted to ground me, because I had disobeyed them so many times in the last week. But to my surprise they gave me a warning, and told me that, had I not found Emily, I would have been grounded.
I had completely lost track of the days. Today was Sunday, the Sunday that ended April vacation. We had school tomorrow. Things were going to be so messed up. Where as my best guy friend was in jail awaiting trial, and my best (girl) friend was all over the news.
I woke up the next morning to a camera crew in my bedroom. They wanted to know how I saved Emily, and caught the guy who kidnapped her. Even though I was in my pajamas, and didn’t want the attention, I told the story, the same story I had told two times already. (Three times counting this one).
When I got to school it seemed that everyone wanted to be my friend. People, who wouldn’t look at me, now loved me. I was king of the school. But all this king wanted to do was find his queen.
I found her easily. She was surrounded by a huge group of girls, who were giving her sympathy, which I knew she did not want.
I went over and kissed her on the cheek from behind. She didn’t know that it was me, until she turned around. And we shared the perfect kiss, which lasted forever. Although the kiss did not last forever, our relationship did.
* * *
…6 years later…
Carl got out of prison a few months before our wedding. We passed him in the street; he apologized to Emily, and said that the only reason that he had done it was because he was jealous of me, for being best friends with Emily. He said the only way he could get rid of his jealousy was to do something to have me lose Emily temporarily.
We invited Carl to the wedding, because had it not been for him, Emily and I could have wound up marrying the wrong people.
It is his ‘fault’ we are getting married, so we forgave him. Now we are friends, except we never leave him alone with anyone, and we will never leave him alone with our kids….EVER!
THE END
At the time I was twelve, I’m not sure how old Emily was, and I’m guessing she was ten. I had just moved into the neighborhood, and she was the first person I had met, not to mention the only girl, besides my mom, who I had met.
While I was unpacking my comic books she came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. She made me jump, and I dropped the box, and it broke. My comic books were everywhere, it was a little embarrassing. But Emily just smiled, and knelt down to help me pick them up.
We spent the rest of the day together her and I. We talked, and laughed, and joked, and played, I was so surprised that a girl could be just as much fun to be around as a guy. All the time I never realized that I had begun to love her, well that is until her sixteenth birthday party.
* * *
During those six years we stayed close. We were never anything more than friends, and I was the guy her dad ever trusted. Yes, I dated, and yes she dated, but our relationship was always stronger. She had her girlfriends, and I had my guy friends, but we both knew that if anything ever happened we had each other. Up until then everything was great, we told each other everything, we hung out everyday, and we always did our homework together. Then something happened to her, something that no one could explain. She was kidnapped. No one saw or heard it happen, she had told me she was going to get the door, but she never came back.
After about ten minutes I started to really worry. I went inside, and asked her mom, Sue, if she had seen her, and she replied, “no, but if you see her will you tell her to see me?” I said yes, and asked her to do the same thing for me.
An hour passed and still Emily had not been seen. I called 911, and asked to speak to the police; they said that they would have an investigator sent right over.
2 hours in and the cops are just starting to question people. I was the first person they interrogated, I answered there questions, and they took my fingerprints and DNA, and I went home. I tried calling Emily on her cell phone, but it went right to voicemail. Then I went to bed.
When I woke up Emily’s house was lined with yellow tape, which read, “CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS.” I then went to her favorite spot in the whole town, the big oak tree, next to the lake, in the center of the town. I went there to think, and to get away from everything, and everybody. I sat down under the tree on the big rock where Emily and I had done so many times before. I looked down at my feet and then to the ground, and I saw a white envelope, “To whoever finds this.” It was written in Emily’s writing! I opened it hastily and written inside was a paragraph scribbled on the piece of paper. It said
“If you are reading, this, you have probably realized that I have been taken. I am not sure where this letter has ended up, but I would like it to be put in the hands of my best friend, Kevin Sampson (that’s me) Kevin when you read this, do not show it to the cops. I was put into a white van, which said something in Spanish on the side. I got the license plate number…765 DED from Florida (I think) PLEASE HELP ME!!!
Emily”
As soon as I read it I knew I needed to tell someone, even if Emily did not want me too. I told the cops the plate number, and described the van. They asked me how I knew this information, but I told them that I could not tell them, and they would have to trust me.
I then got on my bike and began riding around town, looking in garages, alleys, and in parking lots, for the described vehicle. I had no luck. It soon got dark, and late, my parents would start to worry if I did not get back. I went home to find my parents out looking for me. I explained what I had been doing, and they lectured me in leaving it to the police, and how, especially during this time, that they no where I was. I apologized even though I didn’t mean it, and I went up to bed.
The next morning I was the first one awake and I left a note saying that I went out, and would be back later. Then I got on my bike and continued my search for the white van.
* * *
Emily woke up to a bumpy car ride, she couldn’t move because she was bound to a metal pole in the back of the van. She could hear the man who had taken her singing to some old rock and roll music, and she could smell a strong smoke. She opened her eyes, and swathe dirty seat on which she laid, broken beer bottles, and many unlabeled boxes.
Then with a small jerk (the car turned) she fell off the seat, and onto the floor with a, “thud.” She just barely missed a piece of broken glass.
The car then stopped and the music ceased. The man then got out of the car, opened the back door and took Emily out of it. She recognized where she was, she was still in her town. She was praying to god that the man would switch cars, so that someone would find the van and call the police. Her prayer came true; the man gave Emily a bag of chips, and put her in a small car. This car was much cleaner, and did not smell (yet). The man then got in the front and told Emily that if she just sat there, and stayed quiet he would not tie her up. Emily did not say anything; she just stared at the man, trying to get every detail of his face, his hair, and his voice. Then she turned and stared out the window, to pay attention to where he was bringing her.
* * *
I was still looking around town for the white van, when my mom pulled up beside me in her car. She told me to get in, but I did not listen, I was determined to be Emily’s hero. I turned and drove down a small alley that my mother could not fit down in the car. I turned around when I was half way through the alley and I saw her standing outside her care shaking her head. I knew the consequences of my actions, but I did not care; all I cared about was Emily.
This alley was not familiar to me, and when I came out on the other side I was in a parking lot. When I realized where I was, I looked around, and on the other side of the parking lot I saw the white van with something written in Spanish on the side. It had the license plate “765 DED” on the back.
I opened the door, and prayed to god that she was not in there. She wasn’t, but what I did find was her chain, that I gave her for her twelfth birthday. Then I found her cell phone on the dirty floor of the van. There was one voicemail message; I got the message, and found that it was a ransom message, and I called the police. I told them where I was, by giving the directions I took, they were able to find where I was, and took the more direct route. I showed them the chain, and the cell phone, I let them listen to the voicemail. The cops told me that they would record the message, and give the phone back to me, incase anyone should call it.
The voicemail was:
-I have your precious friend, Emily; she is alive, and behaving. But if you ever want to see her again you must send Kevin Sampson to me with $1,000,000.00 cash, and you can have Emily back-
He never said where or when I had to meet him, I think I’ll leave that to the cops. I went home; I completely forgot that I had run away from my mom, so when I walked in the door she went ballistic. Then, when she was done, I told her what had happened, and she was in complete shock, so I went to my room. When I was up there, and my door was closed, I heard my cell phone beeping. I went over to my bed on which it lay, and picked it up; it said that I had a new voicemail message. It was EMILY! She sounded rushed, and confused.
-Kevin, I can’t talk long, I wanted to tell you that I am in a little black car with the license plate number “224-URD.” I also wanted you to know that I am okay, and I miss you. The last time I saw a sign was like a half hour ago, and it said, you are now leaving Westport, and entering Eastport. HELP KEVIN! Tell my parents I love them and I’ll be back hopefully soon. I have to go, bye.-
I listened to it multiple times, and then I called Emily’s parents, and told them what she wanted me to tell them. Then I called the cops, and they came by and picked me up and brought me to the police station. They put an alert on the police radio about the little black car with a license plate “224-URD.”
Then the sheriff told me what we were going to do about the ransom. He told me that he would get the money, and that I would have to call “our guy,” and tell him, where I will meet him. We will know exactly where you are, but we will not be there.
After we listened to the tape again, but this time the background had been enhanced, and Emily’s voice was taken out. I could hear little kids screaming, and I could hear the sound of ocean waves hitting the shore, and rocks. The cops told me to go home, and not to go looking for her.
Although I promised that I wouldn’t go looking for Emily, I could not help myself. She had now been missing for almost three days, and I was starting to miss her, more than I could handle. So I left the police station, and went to my house. I got my keys, got in my car, and set off for a beach in Eastport.
When I arrived there I saw the little black car with the license plate number “224-URD,” I heard the same ocean waves, that I had heard on the phone. I got out of my car, and walked over to the little black car, and looked inside, I again found a message. It was written in the dust on the dashboard. It said, “HELP, I think I’m done for!” And that’s all it said.
I called the cops, and I told them how I disobeyed them, then I told them that I had found the car. Although furious that I had disobeyed them, they were pleased that something good had come from it.
One of the cops saw a piece of paper in the cassette slot. He took it out, and read it, and then he handed it to me. It said, “Tomorrow at the closest shipyard, and to be there at noon.”
After I read it, my heart started racing. I would meet the person that kidnapped Emily tomorrow. I would see Emily tomorrow! I will be her hero! What if she’s not there? What if this is a setup? What if she’s dead? All these thoughts were racing through my mind
I went home, walked straight past my [worrying] parents, and directly to my room, without a word. When I got there I heard my parents clobbering up the stairs, so I locked my door, and started to change. When my parents tried to enter my room I told them that I was changing, and then going to bed, and not to disturb me.
Although shocked by what I said to them they listened, which surprised me. They said that if I was hungry, (which I was) there is food in the fridge, but I’d rather starve then tell them what happened earlier that day. So I found some granola bars in my room, and ate a couple of them. Then I went to bed after setting my alarm clock for 9:00 AM.
When I woke up I quickly got myself ready, and grabbed a couple more chewy bars, and got in my car, and drove to the police station. I got there at 9:35 AM, and I could only find one of the cops that were helping me on this case. I hung out in his office, and I even got one of his beloved doughnuts.
Soon Alfred and I, (the cop who gave me the doughnut) went to the meeting room, where we met the other officers on the case. Now it was 11:15, so we all went to the nearest shipyard, I got to drive Alfred’s police cruiser. (I have to say under any other circumstance that would have been the highlight of my day.) But right now all I cared about was seeing Emily, [I hoped.]
When we go there, we stopped by a gate. I got out of the car, and saw a message written in the sand, it said-
-send Kevin (only) in with the $1,000,000-
The cops agreed to let me go in, and they said they would surround the shipyard. If I did not come out in an hour they would send someone in. I said okay, and entered the shipyard.
I followed the signs that told me where to go, and I finally reached a boat chair in the middle of a clearing. I walked over to it, and saw that it said, “Kevin sit here, and wait for me, and Emily.” So I sat. And I waited.
After what felt like twenty minutes, I saw something move on one of the boats. I got up, and slowly walked over to the boat, holding the money as tightly as I could, and I said Emily’s name, trying as hard as I could to show no fear in my voice. There was no answer, but I walked to the swim platform, at the rear of the boat, climbed up the ladder that was place there. When I got up there I looked inside the cabin, and saw Emily tied to a bed inside. I dropped the money, and ran down to help Emily. Realizing too late of the mistake that I had just made. I lost my only leverage, my only bargaining chip. He, the man that I had been dreading to meet was standing behind me, holding the bag in his hands, and staring at me. I turned around, and I was shocked to see my best friend Carl Jacobs standing there. The only word I could say was, “why?” He did not have a response, he just stood in the same spot, and didn’t move, and just stared at me.
I broke the silence, by saying, “you have your money now let us go.” I then realized that I had made another mistake.
Carl took out a gun, and pointed it at me. Although I was very nervous that these could be the last moments of my life, I did not show it though, because of Emily, and because if you show fear, then it gives your enemy power. I started to talk to him. I told him he would be making a life changing mistake, and would probably have life in prison, rather then a few years. Then, since that did not seem to work; I told him, that he would regret doing what he was about to do. I reminded him of how I had been there for him when his father had committed suicide, and how I was there for him when he first moved here.
I new that had worked, because I saw him lower the gun a little, and I saw that his dull green eyes were glassy, and wet. When he blinked the tear that had built up in his eye, fell upon his cheek, and continued down the side of his face, leaving a muddy path where it passed (because he was so dirty). Then with a loud clunk the gun fell free from his hand, and hit the floor with a loud “CLUNK,” which made me and Carl jump, because of the loud noise against the silence of the shipyard.
I grabbed the gun off the floor, and held it up for protection, and leverage on Carl. I ran down into the cabin, fallowing Carl so he couldn’t run. I untied Emily which was difficult, because she was unconscious. Although difficult, I managed to carry Emily down the ladder, while forcing Carl to do the same. I led Carl to where he cops were, Emily in my arms. When we reached the entrance gate, Albert ran over, as fast as he could, he fumbled with the handcuffs, and put them on Carl’s hands. I carried Emily over to where the paramedics were waiting, and then I told one of the cops where the bag of money was. I then got in the ambulance with Emily to go to the hospital.
I stayed at the hospital all night, waiting for Emily to wake up. She didn’t. Well, she didn’t till the next afternoon. She was thrilled to see me, and very anxious to know how I managed to save her. I told her the whole story, and what happened on the boat.
The doctor’s said that Emily would be released in a couple hours. So I went to the cafeteria to have lunch, while they ran tests on Emily.
After I ate, I went back to Emily’s room, and waited till she was released. I drover her home, and walked her up to the door. And that’s when it happened. I leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed me back, and we finally felt that we had been completed. Her father opened the door, and interrupted our moment, but I couldn’t blame him. I told Emily that I would call her later, and then I went home. I told my parents the whole story. I new they wanted to ground me, because I had disobeyed them so many times in the last week. But to my surprise they gave me a warning, and told me that, had I not found Emily, I would have been grounded.
I had completely lost track of the days. Today was Sunday, the Sunday that ended April vacation. We had school tomorrow. Things were going to be so messed up. Where as my best guy friend was in jail awaiting trial, and my best (girl) friend was all over the news.
I woke up the next morning to a camera crew in my bedroom. They wanted to know how I saved Emily, and caught the guy who kidnapped her. Even though I was in my pajamas, and didn’t want the attention, I told the story, the same story I had told two times already. (Three times counting this one).
When I got to school it seemed that everyone wanted to be my friend. People, who wouldn’t look at me, now loved me. I was king of the school. But all this king wanted to do was find his queen.
I found her easily. She was surrounded by a huge group of girls, who were giving her sympathy, which I knew she did not want.
I went over and kissed her on the cheek from behind. She didn’t know that it was me, until she turned around. And we shared the perfect kiss, which lasted forever. Although the kiss did not last forever, our relationship did.
* * *
…6 years later…
Carl got out of prison a few months before our wedding. We passed him in the street; he apologized to Emily, and said that the only reason that he had done it was because he was jealous of me, for being best friends with Emily. He said the only way he could get rid of his jealousy was to do something to have me lose Emily temporarily.
We invited Carl to the wedding, because had it not been for him, Emily and I could have wound up marrying the wrong people.
It is his ‘fault’ we are getting married, so we forgave him. Now we are friends, except we never leave him alone with anyone, and we will never leave him alone with our kids….EVER!
THE END
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
um a rant from school
How do people write their feelings on a piece of paper? It’s almost impossible to express annoyance or aggravation on one topic in a five hundred word essay. But for some reason some people try to do it, few succeed, and then other people recommend that other people let loose on paper. Or some people just don’t have a life, and release their feelings on a blog they created so that people in general would take the time to actually read the pointless rants that they posted. And then the creator of the blog would use their friend as inspiration for one of their rants that they could put on their blog. Oh wait, and then ask them to copy and paste the rant onto their “facebook,” during a study, which is what the rant was about in the first place. Hypocritical much?
Another thing that bothers me…When people complain that someone they know is being hypocrites. Get with the twenty-first century! Everyone is a hypocrite today. Everyone complains about people taking pictures of themselves, or people having myspaces, or facebooks, or disrespecting a friend, or cheating on a boyfriend or girlfriend. When in all actuality, EVERYONE does these things, even if they just complained about someone doing it the day before, or the week before, or even the hour before. Well, maybe not everyone cheats on their boyfriends and/or girlfriends but that’s just another example to prove my point. Honestly I used my friend as inspiration for this rant, even though I complained about him using me as inspiration for a rant he did about facebook.
People in general are backstabbing. They go back on their word, and not everyone can be trusted. Then people are surprised when someone doesn’t trust them. They maybe the most innocent person in the school, or building, or wherever, but there will always be someone that doesn’t trust them for some reason or another. That’s how rumors start. Some random person will over hear something, and just tell one or two other people, without confirming it with the person that originally said it, and then the lie is spread in a matter of seconds. Someone tells three of their friends, and the three of their friends tell three of their friends and so on and so forth. The result is an exponential growth of the rumor. Eventually it will get back to the person the rumor was originally about and then everything goes from bad to worse. Since people have a hard time believing something different from what they already heard, the rumor has already affected that person’s reputation. Bad reputations are hard to turn back into good reputations. Usually to gain a good reputation back a person needs to have the trust of others, which they didn’t have in the first place.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, lets get back to the question how can someone write their feelings in a five hundred word rant? Or, not only that, how can someone pick a topic to write a five hundred word rant on? Honestly there are so many topics to choose from. Such as people pulling down a driveway that clearly says “Private Driveway Keep Out” on the sign, or how all teachers seem to assign big projects at the same time, or how the union tells teachers that they can’t stay after school to help students pass a class, or in this case about how stupid writing a person’s feelings down on paper can be. No matter the person, when told to write their feelings down on paper, they are going to veer off topic, because it’s what they are feeling at the time. Even though someone once said that a person is supposed to release their emotions in some way, I think they should avoid writing it down. They might as well stand in front of an audience and just tell everyone. Because after something is written down it is viable for anyone to read it, anyone can get their hands on it, and then the secretive emotions of that person, that didn’t want to express them in the first place, are being exposed to the world, because someone suggested they write down their feelings toward someone or something. And if it was a strongly worded paper that was targeted at someone, it could cause something very bad to happen, rather than the slim chance that something good could come from it. If it was a love note about someone, then it could start a relationship, unless that person was married, or had a steady girlfriend or boyfriend. But usually people express their feelings of hate or disgust about a person or group of people. If paper was found by the wrong person it could start fights, arguments, or even a riot would be possible.
So whoever said it was good to release feelings on a piece of paper, or even to a psychiatrist I completely disagree. Think about it, psychiatrists have a clip board, and sometimes even a tape recorder to playback and remind themselves about what the conversation they had had was about. But also that tape still exists so anyone can get a hold of it. Don’t get me wrong it’s good to let feelings out, but make sure it’s done in the right manner. Like to a respectable person or someone that can be slightly trusted; not to a complete stranger that someone (that may not be a person worth any trust) suggested, or written out on a piece of paper that anyone could find or come across on by accident.
Another thing that bothers me…When people complain that someone they know is being hypocrites. Get with the twenty-first century! Everyone is a hypocrite today. Everyone complains about people taking pictures of themselves, or people having myspaces, or facebooks, or disrespecting a friend, or cheating on a boyfriend or girlfriend. When in all actuality, EVERYONE does these things, even if they just complained about someone doing it the day before, or the week before, or even the hour before. Well, maybe not everyone cheats on their boyfriends and/or girlfriends but that’s just another example to prove my point. Honestly I used my friend as inspiration for this rant, even though I complained about him using me as inspiration for a rant he did about facebook.
People in general are backstabbing. They go back on their word, and not everyone can be trusted. Then people are surprised when someone doesn’t trust them. They maybe the most innocent person in the school, or building, or wherever, but there will always be someone that doesn’t trust them for some reason or another. That’s how rumors start. Some random person will over hear something, and just tell one or two other people, without confirming it with the person that originally said it, and then the lie is spread in a matter of seconds. Someone tells three of their friends, and the three of their friends tell three of their friends and so on and so forth. The result is an exponential growth of the rumor. Eventually it will get back to the person the rumor was originally about and then everything goes from bad to worse. Since people have a hard time believing something different from what they already heard, the rumor has already affected that person’s reputation. Bad reputations are hard to turn back into good reputations. Usually to gain a good reputation back a person needs to have the trust of others, which they didn’t have in the first place.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, lets get back to the question how can someone write their feelings in a five hundred word rant? Or, not only that, how can someone pick a topic to write a five hundred word rant on? Honestly there are so many topics to choose from. Such as people pulling down a driveway that clearly says “Private Driveway Keep Out” on the sign, or how all teachers seem to assign big projects at the same time, or how the union tells teachers that they can’t stay after school to help students pass a class, or in this case about how stupid writing a person’s feelings down on paper can be. No matter the person, when told to write their feelings down on paper, they are going to veer off topic, because it’s what they are feeling at the time. Even though someone once said that a person is supposed to release their emotions in some way, I think they should avoid writing it down. They might as well stand in front of an audience and just tell everyone. Because after something is written down it is viable for anyone to read it, anyone can get their hands on it, and then the secretive emotions of that person, that didn’t want to express them in the first place, are being exposed to the world, because someone suggested they write down their feelings toward someone or something. And if it was a strongly worded paper that was targeted at someone, it could cause something very bad to happen, rather than the slim chance that something good could come from it. If it was a love note about someone, then it could start a relationship, unless that person was married, or had a steady girlfriend or boyfriend. But usually people express their feelings of hate or disgust about a person or group of people. If paper was found by the wrong person it could start fights, arguments, or even a riot would be possible.
So whoever said it was good to release feelings on a piece of paper, or even to a psychiatrist I completely disagree. Think about it, psychiatrists have a clip board, and sometimes even a tape recorder to playback and remind themselves about what the conversation they had had was about. But also that tape still exists so anyone can get a hold of it. Don’t get me wrong it’s good to let feelings out, but make sure it’s done in the right manner. Like to a respectable person or someone that can be slightly trusted; not to a complete stranger that someone (that may not be a person worth any trust) suggested, or written out on a piece of paper that anyone could find or come across on by accident.
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