My Short Story :D

My Name is Braxton   

    I walked home, slowing my footsteps every second.  It was a hot and humid day in Alabama, and I was tired after a long day at school.  When I got home, I was immediately scared. The three bottles of whiskey smashed on the sidewalk were not good signs.  I carefully peeked through the door, then briskly ran upstairs. Dad had been here.  He had gone through all of my stuff.  Clothes were thrown on the floor, race medals snapped in half, almost everything was torn up, except for the picture of me and mom.  Dad must have been real drunk, 'that explains the whiskey bottles outside,' I thought to myself.

-Three years ago-

Mom left us when I was in kindergarten.  I had a great teacher, and some good friends too.  Mom would always take me to kindergarten, wave goodbye and exchange a blow-kiss, it was my favorite part of the day.  But on a gloomy morning, when it looked like rain, I woke up and mom wasn’t there. I didn’t want to go to kindergarten, not without mom, but dad had not been drunk the last night.  His face was a red as a parrot’s as he socked me in the shoulder, then swung again, this time at my face. He took all his anger out on me, which resulted in a bloody nose, and a dislocated shoulder. The whole day thoughts were swimming in my head, “Why did she leave me!” and, “What did I do wrong?”  I couldn’t think of them long because I had to focus on getting air into my lungs in between my sobs.  

    But then I knew why mom ran away.  She ran because dad was a monster.

I never liked school again.

It rained that day, and it seemed very fitting that the mood of the world reflected mine. My pain and misery did not result in a sunny day, but a cloudy one, one with rain.  I did not feel my pain alone, others had missed a sunny day.  

I got out of the car to trudge my way to the building, “Braxton,” My father hissed, “don’t you tell a soul about the incident this morning.  Or you know what awaits you.”  There was no wave, no blow kiss.  

At school that day I was too scared to say anything anyway.  I burst into tears a few times, not because it hurt, but because I wanted mom back.  I wanted her back, even though it had only been a few hours.  

-Present day-

The next day I carefully slipped on my clothes.  I didn’t know where dad had been last night, so no beating, but no peace either.  I was worried all night he would come home and find reason to blame me for whatever had happened that night.  I wore loose t-shirts so it didn’t hurt too bad.  I grabbed the last banana from the fridge and headed out the door.  Walking to school had become a habit of mine, got me more time away from dad.  

School was the same as always, but I dreaded going back home.  I had to take the bus, or I knew dad would beat me real good if I walked again, ever since mom left, he gets worried I’ll leave too, and he’ll have no one to take out his anger on.  I really tried my luck last night, but if dad hadn’t come home last night that means real bad news.  I got on the bus, and almost instantly I was home.  I walked upstairs to my room, and laid on my stomach on my bed, and got the picture of my mom and I out.   Just then I heard the front door open and slam shut.  Just as quickly as this had happened, my dad was at my bedroom door barging in with such force he almost took the door off it’s hinges.  

“Get up.” he said, fuming.  “O-okay,”  I stuttered, my voice breaking. I almost started crying just thinking of what was coming for me.  He took me to the basement, locked the doors and made sure all the windows were closed.  This was to make sure all the neighbors didn’t hear, but they wouldn’t care if they did.  Beating your kids is the “social norm.”  4/7 of the other black kids in this area received whoppings for their misbehavings.  They still didn’t know what I was going through, my dad knew just how to make it cut right into your back, make it sting like the dickens. “Take your clothes off,” he yelled gruffly. Then he added, “Quick!”.  I took them off, tears welling in my eyes.  He slowly, as if to torture me, took his belt off, one. loop. at. a. time.  “You know what to do, why aren’t ya doing it?” He yelled, it was obvious he was still very drunk.  But he was right, I did know what to do.  I was to kneel in a praying position while he whipped me.  

I heard the belt swing back, I cringed anticipating the pain.  SNAP!  “AAHhhh,” I quietly cried out in pain, he had struck me right across the middle of my back.  And again, SNAP! this time across my thin boxers he let me leave on.  I knew better than to cover by behind, last time I tried this I ended up with gashes across my hands.  SNAP! This time in between my shoulders.  

It went on like this for what seemed like hours.  

•      -         -
  

As any 8 year old would, I love taking warm showers but whenever I do, it makes all the pain return.  I have a towel that is blood stained.  Though it is washed frequently it still has pink stains all over it.  I laid on this towel for 15 minutes, trying to soothe the pain, then stepped into the cold shower.  It soothed my pain ever so slightly, enabling me to think.  I couldn’t take the whippings anymore.

In the shower I devised my plan.

My dad has to frequently clean his belt and leave it out on the clothesline to dry.  He left it in the basement until after dinner though, which consisted of stale bread, and cheese.  He went down to get his belt, soaked it up and left it outside.  But it was dark and my dad knew it wouldn’t dry just in the night alone, he would have to leave it out til tomorrow.  

I went upstairs, switched my lights off, and got in bed.  My back hurt immensly, and all it would allow was a thin blanket to keep me warm.  My mind was swimming with visions of how I would take his belt, and never be beat again.  I let myself drift off to sleep.  

The next morning I got up right before school.  I carefully slid on an extra loose shirt, skipped breakfast and went out back.  My dad has wrestling training early in the morning so he is gone for quite some time when I leave to school.  I quickly took the belt off the line threw it in my backpack, and left for school.  I got to school early and went around back to the dumpsters right before the garbage man got there, I threw the belt into the trash.  I felt so free, so alive, but not without a sharp pain from my back.  

I guess I didn’t think of the consequences.

     -         -   -

I even skipped to the bus that day on my way home from school.  “Finally! No more belt!” I said to myself.  When I got home though, it was a whole new story.  I walked in the door to see dad’s bright red face waiting for me in the kitchen.  I saw the open can of beer on the counter and prayed he wouldn’t realize the belt was missing. “Braxton,” he said calmly, as if to frighten me more, “We need to talk.”  “Uh oh,” I thought to myself, “no dad, no…”  Dad continued, “My belt has gone missing. Do you know where it might have gone?”  I was cornered; I couldn’t lie and say no, or he’d see right through me, but I couldn’t say yes either or I’d be slapped on the spot, no telling what would happen after.  So I remained silent, which was also a mistake because dad saw right through that too.  “Go downstairs,” he said, his voice rising with every word, “and wait for me while I find a replacement for the belt.”  I had no choice, I went downstairs and got undressed so as not to aggravate him.  I sat silently and waited for dad to come down with his new weapon.

I heard the faint sound of a chainsaw outside but thought nothing of it, until about 10 minutes later dad came down with one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen.  It was a thin branch, though just thick enough for pain, and it was long.  Almost 4 feet.  Dad had taken all of the leaves off, and left a few twigs still attached.  This was his new weapon.  Dad had made a switch.  

     -         -   -

That night I couldn’t sleep.  Dad had gotten so furious, he had me stay standing as he whipped me all across my back down to my legs.  Even after I had collapsed in pain he continued to beat me.  Afterwards he had me stand up and face him, as he whipped my stomach and face.  I didn’t come back upstairs til dark.  There was no comfort in sleep, if I did fall asleep I had night terrors, replays of previous events.  But mostly I was kept awake in pain, for there was no position that was comfortable.  

I couldn’t even go to school the next day, dad wouldn’t allow it.  I wouldn’t have gone anyway, the pain was too unbearable.  I knew this couldn’t continue, there was only was option.  I had to run away.  

My plan was to sneak away the next day during dad’s training, but when dad decided to sleep in, a problem presented itself.  I had my backpack ready to go.  I had another pair of basketball shorts and a loose shirt, along with a change of socks.  When dad sleeps in, he sleeps in.  I figured dad would sleep until 11 or so, which gave me a bit of time to say goodbye to my stuff.  I slipped the picture of me and mom into my backpack and tiptoed down the stairs.  I was careful as possible but still, in our old house, the stairs creaked and croaked just slightly, though just enough to wake a sleeping monster.

I grabbed the last apple from the fridge, it squished a little when I picked it up.  It was probably 2 months old.  I grabbed what little food remained and silently closed the fridge.  I creeped to the door and quietly turned the knob.  It squeaked, I pulled but it was locked, and I knew I had made too much noise.  I quickly unlocked the door and ran outside.

    The door shut abruptly, and the thought briefly crossed my mind that it was not a silent escape. I didn’t give it a second thought, because I was out of the house!  I ran with my backpack in hand as to not hurt my back and shoulders, and ran with everything within me.  I sprinted, got down the street and turned the corner.   I kept running, and though it stung, I felt so free.  With every step I felt more pain, but with the pain came the freedom.  My heart pounded as I rounded the bend as I screamed with horror.  I tried to turn and run the other way, but dad was too quick.  Dad snatched me up, and with his firm grip flung me on his shoulder.  I sobbed.  I sobbed and sobbed.  My heart gave up, time slowed down as I realized what just happened.

There would be no escape, there would be no happiness.  

I had lost, and there would be no winning.  

The race only some will run

I’m right lined up to start the race

the whistle blows,

I’m gone leaving behind no trace

I’m in the lead, can’t look over my shoulder

Someone cries out, his race if over.

Just one more lap and then it’s all over

I round the bend just one last time

I sprint across the finish line

But as I’m taking a victory lap

I notice who had fallen.

Clouds of Judgement

Anger billows up inside me

Causing a cloud of judgement to rise

I want to spit some angry words

That will help my cause go forth

But in a flash, I know, I do.

Anger will only push it back.

I don't like poetry.

I need to write a poem

I truly don’t know why

Poems really make me yawn

I think I’ll go and cry.

I wake up every morning

And every time I do

I’m reminded of the dread I feel

My poetry is due!

I’ve really avoided it this time

I honestly didn’t want to

But alas I decided to write this poem

To give you as a clue.

I really don’t like poetry

Do I have to tell you once more?

This poem really taxed me

It has been quite a bore.  

Now this poem is over

Nothing more is to it

Never will I write another

I think I might just lose it.

Dawn is Dancing

Above us see the blue blue sky
Clouds glow as sun passes by
See the clouds with a pinkish hue
I love when dawn dances, don't you?
The sun peeks up behind the mountains
Giving me her warmth
Above us see the blue blue sky
As the world around transforms

xoxo-kaelin

The boy who didn't want to go to bed

We laughed at his joke once more
Giggling as we watched him soar
He tackled me on top of the couch
I do't wanna go to be," he pouts
I give him one last tickle then tuck him in bed
"Just one story pretty pleeeaaasee?" he said
I turned he last page and saw him asleep
A peck on his cheek, out of the room I creep.


Tell me what you think!
xoxo-kaelin

Over the Bridge

This is a poem I wrote, and it has alternate endings.  Read both and tell me which one you like more :D

Hand in hand we go over the bridge
We stop and step up to observe the river
Swiftly, softly moving along
We watch the sun set and start to shiver
We cuddle up in a blanket so quickly
And watch as the river stays awake
Even when the world surrounding sleeps

*iPhone in hand, it's a selfie we take
OR
*Of life's glorious beauty we partake


xoxo-kaelin

This guy came home and found his wife was changing a baby's diaper, even though they can't have kids.

   "Uuuuuuhhhhhh," I said nervously as I walked through the door, "What is happening?" Sally was on the floor changing a diaper.  After a long moment of silence I tried again, "We don't have a baby."  Sally continued changing the diaper and finished up without saying a word.  I could tell she didn't want to talk about it, but finding a baby in your house isn't something you don't talk about.  

     "Do you have an explanation for me?' I pressed.  Sally sighed as she turned to face me.  "I just wanted a baby," she began, "Wh-how-whe-" I tried a few times.  "I was visiting the hospitol, volunteering like I do every Tuesday." Her eyes shone with tears, "They told me working in the nursery would make up some difference in my depression.  Seeing as we don't have children.  Working there just made me mad, jealous and angry..." She paused for a moment to recollect herself.  "I loathed those mothers who had given birth to these precious, gorgeous, perfect little babies.  I didn't think it would come to this but I snapped." "WHAT do you mean you snapped?" I cut in, my voice rising.  "I took a baby," before I could interrupt she hurried on, "She was just lying there in tears, so I picked her up to comfort her, as I was soothing her it was then I knew I had to have her.  I walked out the building with her."  I was so angry I just grabbed the keys, took the baby and stormed out the door.  

Ether 12:23, 25-26

Writing is super cool.  Who knew the Book of Mormon even focuses on it?!?

 23 And I said unto him: Lord, the Gentiles will mock at these things, because of our weakness in writing; for Lord thou hast made us mighty in word by faith, but thou hast not made us mighty in writing; for thou hast made all this people that they could speak much, because of the Holy Ghost which thou hast given them; 

25 Thou hast also made our words powerful and great, even that we cannot write them; wherefore,when we write we bhold our weakness, and stumble because of the placing of our words; and I fear lest the Gentiles shall mock at our words. 

26 And when I had said this, the Lord spake unto me, saying: Fools mock, but they shall mourn; and my grace is sufficient for the meek, that they shall take no advantage of weakness;

xoxo-kaelin

Poetry

This was my first poem, but I didn't really like it.

The branches stretch high into the sky

Round green leaves sway in the breeze

The sun casts a shadow on few, yet shines gloriously on others

As the seasons roll by she will lose her strength

Her walnuts will drop, and her leaves will fall

The tree will be a tree no longer

Only wood

Only a stump and branches

The sun did not reach it in time

As more seasons pass by the sun will provide the tree with strength

She will prosper and bring forth her fruition

And thus is our tree

While I was writing yesterday I got a fabulous idea and this is it:

“Pa,” the little boy asked, “where are you going?” Their hands clasped

“I’m going, they’ve called, but I’ll be back before the leaves fall”

“I’ll be home again someday,” cried the father as he walked away

The boy will wait and wait, day by day.  He watches as leaves fall away

He’ll be back before the leaves fall.

The winter chill, is here again, but now we only go uphill

Spring flowers grow, the boy dying to say hello

The summer’s here, fall’s finally near

The little boy looked outside, and much to his surprise

Dad was back before the leaves fell.  


Tell me what you think!!! And be honest :D

xoxo-kaelin

Random for class

Thought this was pretty great for our short stories. :D

xoxo-kaelin

Old and New Beginnings

My old beginning:

I walked home from school today, slowing with every footstep.  I knew dad would be mad at me, but it was all I could do to keep the beatings away.  You see, dad is a professional wrestler.  He gets a thrill out of hurting people.  3 years ago, that’s what ran my mom away.  Once I got home I found 3 empty bottles of whiskey, “Great,” I thought, “today’s gonna be real bad.”  I briskly walked upstairs and went into my room.  Dad had been in here though.  I frantically started searching through the mess my dad had made, looking for the one thing I held dear to me, a picture of me and my mom.  I found it under my bed next to the chest I keep there, thank heavens dad was too drunk to pay close attention.  

My new beginning:

I got home, and immediately was scared. The three bottles of whiskey smashed on the sidwalk were not good signs. I carefully peeked through the door, then briskly ran upstairs. Dad had been here. He had gone through all of my stuff. Clothes were thrown on the floor, race medals on the floor, and almost everything was torn up. Everything but the picture of me and mom. Dad must have been real drunk, 'that explains the whiskey bottles outside,' I thought to myself.


Tell me what you think! Do you like my old, or new beginning better? Do you not really like either of them? Do you like some parts of the old one and most of the new one? Be honest with me, and let me know in the comments. :)

xoxo-kaelin

Halle

     Halle and I had a really fun photo shoot! I got to curl her hair, choose her outfit, and make her do things for me. :D  It turned out really well.  It was perfect lighting, perfect season timing, and Halle looks gorgeous in these!  

     Halle is very kind to everyone not her sisters.  Sometimes she is really nice to us too. (; She is always looking for ways to serve whether she notices or not.  Every one Halle meets will be served by her at one point in their relationship.  Whether it be small and simple things, or big charitable acts of kindness, Halle is always looking to serve. 

My writing from Thursday's assignment: 

Blind date, guy thinks it’s going awesome:

Jeff pulled the seat out for the girl who just arrived for their blind date. “Hi. My name’s Mandy.” She stated a little awkwardly, like this was her first blind date.  For Jeff, he was used to this.  His friends were always setting him up on dates, “Hey.” He said, staring dreamily into her eyes, “I’m Jeff.”  The waiter came and took their order.  “Man,” Jeff thought, “this chic is hot!”  Once they got their food Mandy started warming up a little. This was going great.  Mandy still looked a little uncomfortable, but had improved drastically.  They were talking about football, soccer, baseball, all the people they’ve dated.  Jeff was having a great time. “So,” he said, “Do you like sports?” “Uh, my dad does.” Mandy replied.  At this Jeff was thrilled, “Hey! Mine does too!” He then thought to himself, “Man, we have so much in common.  Definitely asking this girl for her number.  What was her name again?”  

Blind date, girl thinks it’s horrific:

Mandy walked into the diner.  She was terrified, she had never been on a blind date before and had no idea what kind of a guy she would be going out with tonight.  She saw a blonde, probably football player, guy stand up and wave her over.  She walked over to him and he pulled her seat out for her.  Mandy noticed he was staring at her, which made her highly uncomfortable, so to break the awkwardness she stuttered, “H-hi, my name’s Mandy.” “Hey,” the football player said. There was a long pause and Mandy almost started to say something else before he said, “I’m Jeff.”  “Oh,” thought Mandy, “so the football player has a name…” The waiter came and took their orders.  Mandy got chicken alfredo, her favorite, with a salad for an appetizer.  Jeff got an 18 piece rib platter, with an appetizer of a large cheese fry.  Mandy was pretty much disgusted.  He was going to eat all that himself!?!?! They got their courses at the same time, which Mandy found odd.  But it didn’t bother Jeff, between mouthfuls of ribs and fries he started talking about sports.  Meanwhile thoughts were going through Mandy’s head, “Is he even breathing?  How is it possible for one person to carry out such a long monologue?  How is he eating so much, and talking so much at the same time?” After Jeff finished eating he asked, “So, do you like sports?”  Mandy did not actually, she prefered to be curled up on her couch, reading a book, but to be polite she said, “My dad does.”  Jeff seemed pretty satisfied.  He went on about who knows what, Mandy had zoned out she was thinking 1 thing.  She would never go on a blind date again.

xoxo-kaelin  

Megan

 It's Megan's turn!! Megan is 4 years old and she is turning five in 1 1/2 weeks! She's pretty excited.  She goes to preschool, and loves it.  Megan has the greatest outlook on life (most of the time).  She is always really happy, and excited.  When we went to the beach for the last month before we left she and Halle had a countdown going with paper links.  A few of these pictures show what a funny, and spunky little girl she is.  Whenever someone is sad (particularly children younger than her, or about her age) she will start acting funny to cheer them up.  Whether it's making silly faces, or walking around funny with a silly face and voice.  It seems to work with Claire every time.  She loves learning, and being a silly goose.  She's pretty good at it too.  Almost every thing Megan does set's an example for everyone around her.  She is a funny little girl, and I love her!

Picture day at school=Picture day at home :D

Silly goose, she is. 

Also, a clip of my writing from Thursday:
Emily knocked on Renaldo's door. "Come in," he said.  Emily seated herself and started to ask the question she had been thinking of for so long, but Reynie interrupted her, "I presume you're here for the envelope?" "Actually, yes uncle, you said it was important?" Emily replied.  "When I used to live in Barcelona I had grand neighbors.  I promised them if ever they needed something they could ask.  Their son is coming to stay with us for a spell.  You may take the letter and read it in your room." At this Emily was quite astonished.  Another person coming to the mannor! "Yes, yes of course," Emily, completely astounded, replied.  And she walked out of the room in a very confused state.
     Once she got back to her room she tore open the envelope and read the letter that was inside.  She was reading slowly, drinking the words as if she lived in a barren land, savoring every letter.  "...His name is David.  He's looking for a wife."  What!?!? Emily's mind was racing, Already I've gone against what mother desired of me, now I'm to be courted!?! I'm only sixteen...  She let her thoughts fade.  She wanted to think very seriously about what she had just read.
     She knew at that very moment, she had just read a statement that already had changed her life forever.

Here's an exerpt from probably my favorite short story; Harrison Bergeron:

"Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the 

laws of motion as well. 
They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun. 
They leaped like deer on the moon. 
The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers 
nearer to it. 
It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling. They kissed it. 
And then, neutraling gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended 
in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long 
time . 
It was then that Diana Moon Clampers, the Handicapper General, came into the 
studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun."

You can read the rest of it here.

xoxo-kaelin

Claire

     Today I'm going to focus on my cutest little sister, Claire.  I think I'll spend a bit of time focusing on my family in the future as well.

     Claire just turned 3, she just got her cast off after she broke her arm.  She is a cute, fun, loving, grumpy little girl.  We like to take pictures of her whenever she is well groomed.  Which doesn't' happen very often.  Today she let me to her hair like Megan's and we had to document it.

     I want to talk about the way Claire smiles when we tell her to say cheese.  She squints her eyes and shoes us her teeth the best she can.  She gets really happy and excited at gives us her best smile.  My cousins (boys obviously :D ) would never smile for pictures, they would just try to widen their mouths a bit and call it good.  These I believe are the two different views you can have on life.   You can take what you've got and feel like you only need to give a little bit, just a widened mouth with your lips sealed shut.  Or you can look at what you've got and give it your best shot and smile for all you're worth, try to make the best of every situation and be as happy as possible.

xoxo- kaelin