It's the fourth fall of this God-forsaken war. Tommy's been gone since the fall of 1939, so I don't get to see him at all. I write to him every other day. That is, until recently.
You see, he's living on a Navy boat somewhere by Hawaii, patrolling. The Japanese have been putting threats towards the U.S. Because of the recent attacks. It makes me nervous to think about it, but he tells me all the time that he's alright. So, I just go with it. I guess I'll just have to wait until it's mail day.
The other Navy wives share the same worries as I do. They worry that their husbands wont return and they'll get a telegram, “Dearest Mrs. ----, We are sorry to inform you that your husband has passed away fighting for our country. We send our condolences. Sincerely, Uncle Sam,” or something like that. I just pray to God I never get a letter like that. I can't imagine ever losing Tommy. I love him too much.
Oh dear, it's getting late. The news will be on soon. I have to listen to see what's going on with the war. Wait, there's a knock at my door. When I answered, there was Betty with a package in her hand. It was a white box with a purple ribbon around it. I thanked her and sent her off. It said “To my dearest Sandra. I love you. Happy early birthday. Love, Tommy.”
When I opened it, I sat in awe for a moment. The pearl heart I had always wanted. The lovely piece was 1 ¾ inches in height and about 2 inches in width. The ribbon it was hung on was light purple of a silky type. The expensive kind.
“Breaking news! This just in: the Japanese Navy has sent torpedos to Pearl Harbor where they exploded and set the entire Harbor ablaze! So far nobody enlisted there for active duty has been accounted for. The United States Navy is doing an island-wide search for the missing men,” I gasped; Tommy, “the only thing happening so far is the U.S. Air force is taking action to put out the fires on the harbor. More news tomorrow at 7 PM.
*****TBA*****
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Dreaming Of A Night- REDONE (again...)
The room was dark; only something nocturnal could see inside of it. Could see Anna tossing and turning. She was having a nightmare. She didn't realize she was creating such a ruckus. The sound coming from the room wasn't that of a 15-year-old girl having a bad dream, but that of an animal being killed. So loud, it woke the entire house up. She dreamt for what seemed like forever, not able to wake up unless shaken furiously. The night might've ended about eight months ago, but it plays on in her head every night. Playing the words that still sting her body, "This, Anna, is how you prove you love me."
When Anna woke, finally, she realized it was cold, not noticing she had fallen off of her bed and onto the hardwood floor. Her arms were covered in deep scratches, as though she was trying to get whatever it was, out of her. Her mother, Julie, was kneeling next to her, shaking her and yelling, "Anna! Are you alright?! What's wrong?" She was a smart woman, but was unaware of the situation that caused Anna to be this way. Julie wasn't too fond of her older three children, but loved Anna and Aleigha the most because they were the youngest and the least likely to become rebellious.
Anna got up from the floor, holding her belly; seven months pregnant, "Um, nothing, Mama," she got up, still panting adn trying to catch her breath, "Just a bad dream." She got to her feet, catching balance and grabbing her UNH hoodie. She pulled it over her enormous belly and pulled her long brown hair into a loose, lazy bun. She made her way to the door, still trying to make sense of what happened.
Anna walked slowly downstairs and into the kitchen, still shaken. Only then did everything get worse. Her skin tingled, body temperature getting about twenty degrees cooler. HE was sitting there, enjoying still being treated like family, even though he was the enemy: Jake Montana.
***** TO BE CONTINUED*******
When Anna woke, finally, she realized it was cold, not noticing she had fallen off of her bed and onto the hardwood floor. Her arms were covered in deep scratches, as though she was trying to get whatever it was, out of her. Her mother, Julie, was kneeling next to her, shaking her and yelling, "Anna! Are you alright?! What's wrong?" She was a smart woman, but was unaware of the situation that caused Anna to be this way. Julie wasn't too fond of her older three children, but loved Anna and Aleigha the most because they were the youngest and the least likely to become rebellious.
Anna got up from the floor, holding her belly; seven months pregnant, "Um, nothing, Mama," she got up, still panting adn trying to catch her breath, "Just a bad dream." She got to her feet, catching balance and grabbing her UNH hoodie. She pulled it over her enormous belly and pulled her long brown hair into a loose, lazy bun. She made her way to the door, still trying to make sense of what happened.
Anna walked slowly downstairs and into the kitchen, still shaken. Only then did everything get worse. Her skin tingled, body temperature getting about twenty degrees cooler. HE was sitting there, enjoying still being treated like family, even though he was the enemy: Jake Montana.
***** TO BE CONTINUED*******
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Beginning of the End
The year's coming to an end. That means good byes, "have a good summer"s, and most of all: we'll miss you's. Teachers retire, friends move, ya know, stuff like that. Finals fastly approach and you have big projects due in a week or so.
Finals... Tests about everything you've learned since the beginning of hte class. This determines whether you can say "hello" to the coming year as a grade higher, or you'll have to do summer school as a result of failure. Although you remember the stuff you learned like ti was yesterday, it's always good to open up that binder one more time. There might be a word or two that you don't know. Some teachers tell you to build a project around a specific topic. Now, don't you even THINK about only putting in 3rd grade level effort. Do you wanna go to college? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Some of your friends are moving away for college. Whether you were really close with them, or they were just part of your group, you're gonna say "We'll miss you". If you were friends with someone and you'll never see them again, you're gonna make the most of your time left with them; even if it's only a week. Whether or not you'll talk to them after they move, you will always remember them. So, sign those yearbooks and hug before you leave, even if you guys weren't always that close.
Maybe one of your favorite teachers is retiring and you still haev two years left. Tell them you will always remember them and make sure to sign the yearbook. Some teahers will move or just not come back next year. Those teachers might be the ones who had the biggest impact on you in school. Please always remember that writing on someone (as a sophomore) is immature. Letting someone else write on you is disrespectful. They'll never elt you forget that, believe me. Make sure to show them you CAN pass and make them proud of you. Once the year's over, make them your friend on Facebook, just so you can send messages to them every once in a while just to let them know how you're doing in school and how far you've come. You never know, they could be moving out of the country and you may never see them again.
When you sign up for classes, make sure to pick up the ones you know you can pass. Although, taking a CP class isn't so bad. Just think, the more you get done, the more free time you have senior year! Also, be sure to get classes with some of your friends. That way, you can be partners for everything. But also, make room in your friend group for new ones you might mke next year. Don't et yourself get sucked into the drama fest over the summer, like you might've done for the last two summers. The guidance counselor will point you in the right direction, but the choice is yours. Also, remember that you're doing vocational, so you don't haev to take that stupid science class. If you're not sure which classes to take, ask teachers from this year. They're happy to help.
The year ending also means having to say goodbye. Sometimes it's the hardest thing to do, but you can't avoid it. Goodbye to the teachers, to your friends. Goodbye to the halls and tou your locker that you shared with your best friend. Goodbye to fun times and good memories. In other words, it's the beginning of the end.
Finals... Tests about everything you've learned since the beginning of hte class. This determines whether you can say "hello" to the coming year as a grade higher, or you'll have to do summer school as a result of failure. Although you remember the stuff you learned like ti was yesterday, it's always good to open up that binder one more time. There might be a word or two that you don't know. Some teachers tell you to build a project around a specific topic. Now, don't you even THINK about only putting in 3rd grade level effort. Do you wanna go to college? Yeah, that's what I thought.
Some of your friends are moving away for college. Whether you were really close with them, or they were just part of your group, you're gonna say "We'll miss you". If you were friends with someone and you'll never see them again, you're gonna make the most of your time left with them; even if it's only a week. Whether or not you'll talk to them after they move, you will always remember them. So, sign those yearbooks and hug before you leave, even if you guys weren't always that close.
Maybe one of your favorite teachers is retiring and you still haev two years left. Tell them you will always remember them and make sure to sign the yearbook. Some teahers will move or just not come back next year. Those teachers might be the ones who had the biggest impact on you in school. Please always remember that writing on someone (as a sophomore) is immature. Letting someone else write on you is disrespectful. They'll never elt you forget that, believe me. Make sure to show them you CAN pass and make them proud of you. Once the year's over, make them your friend on Facebook, just so you can send messages to them every once in a while just to let them know how you're doing in school and how far you've come. You never know, they could be moving out of the country and you may never see them again.
When you sign up for classes, make sure to pick up the ones you know you can pass. Although, taking a CP class isn't so bad. Just think, the more you get done, the more free time you have senior year! Also, be sure to get classes with some of your friends. That way, you can be partners for everything. But also, make room in your friend group for new ones you might mke next year. Don't et yourself get sucked into the drama fest over the summer, like you might've done for the last two summers. The guidance counselor will point you in the right direction, but the choice is yours. Also, remember that you're doing vocational, so you don't haev to take that stupid science class. If you're not sure which classes to take, ask teachers from this year. They're happy to help.
The year ending also means having to say goodbye. Sometimes it's the hardest thing to do, but you can't avoid it. Goodbye to the teachers, to your friends. Goodbye to the halls and tou your locker that you shared with your best friend. Goodbye to fun times and good memories. In other words, it's the beginning of the end.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Letter to Her
Dear Mom,
I'm sure you weren't expecting me, but I figured I'd write to you anyways. I just wanted you to know how much you've hurt me and also how much you're missing. Even now when I talk about or think about it, I wanna cry. You really just don't understand how I feel.
You pushed me away. So far away it's gonna take a long time to bring me back. While you're too busy ripping my life apart, Im trying to keep right up with you to sew it back together, but I can't seem to mend it the right way. Nothing will ever fit together the same way, and you know it. Do you even regret anything that's ever happened?
Although you had your fair share of mess- ups and mistakes, you treated me like I was the worst person you know when I had one. Even the minor mistakes, you made me out to be the bad guy. Whatever, I guess. Obviously you're perfect and never EVER do anything wrong.
You took minor issues and blew them WAY out of proportion. But you always do that so I guess it's normal and I shouldn't be so surprised. Before you go rip this up and grab a beer, listen to what I have to say. Did you ever stoop to think that maybe, just maybe had you have been a better parent to us, we might've acted better? Or maybe you still think that you didn't do anything wrong.
You really don't get it do you? You expect me to treat you like gold, but you treat me like less than dirt. I tried so hard to please you. I gave up everything for you. Don't tell me that's not true, because it is. And don't try to tell me everything negative was my fault, because in the end, Vicki, it was your fault. I act the way I do because of you, okay? Not because "that's just how I am" but because of you.
Everyday I'm reminded of you and every day, my hate grows more for you. You can call me what you want, but in the end, My name is Rochelle and I am NOT a mistake or failure, thank you very much.
Never yours truly,
Chelle
I'm sure you weren't expecting me, but I figured I'd write to you anyways. I just wanted you to know how much you've hurt me and also how much you're missing. Even now when I talk about or think about it, I wanna cry. You really just don't understand how I feel.
You pushed me away. So far away it's gonna take a long time to bring me back. While you're too busy ripping my life apart, Im trying to keep right up with you to sew it back together, but I can't seem to mend it the right way. Nothing will ever fit together the same way, and you know it. Do you even regret anything that's ever happened?
Although you had your fair share of mess- ups and mistakes, you treated me like I was the worst person you know when I had one. Even the minor mistakes, you made me out to be the bad guy. Whatever, I guess. Obviously you're perfect and never EVER do anything wrong.
You took minor issues and blew them WAY out of proportion. But you always do that so I guess it's normal and I shouldn't be so surprised. Before you go rip this up and grab a beer, listen to what I have to say. Did you ever stoop to think that maybe, just maybe had you have been a better parent to us, we might've acted better? Or maybe you still think that you didn't do anything wrong.
You really don't get it do you? You expect me to treat you like gold, but you treat me like less than dirt. I tried so hard to please you. I gave up everything for you. Don't tell me that's not true, because it is. And don't try to tell me everything negative was my fault, because in the end, Vicki, it was your fault. I act the way I do because of you, okay? Not because "that's just how I am" but because of you.
Everyday I'm reminded of you and every day, my hate grows more for you. You can call me what you want, but in the end, My name is Rochelle and I am NOT a mistake or failure, thank you very much.
Never yours truly,
Chelle
Friday, April 29, 2011
Dreaming of A Night
She tossed and turned all night, every night. Not realizing that she was creating such a ruckus. The night kept playing in her head and made her want to wake up, but something made waking up impossible. She could still feel him, even though it happened six months ago, during the summer, and could still hear him saying, "This, Anna, is how you prove you love me."
Anna woke finally, sweating and panting. She had fallen off her bed and scratched her arms as though she was struggling to get something off of her. Anna's mother was standing in the doorway holding a cup of coffee. "Are you okay?! You've been screaming for about four hours now. You need to get up for school now." Anna's mother wasn't very fond of any of her children, but cared for Anna because she was the youngest.
She got up from the hardwood floor and pulled her UNH sweatshirt on over her pink tank top. Anna pulled her hair into a bun and slowly walked down the steps to the kitchen, where she saw HIM sitting at the table, smirking as though he had just won a trophy for being the biggest tool in school. "Honey, this is your new tutor, Jake," her mother said, seeming happy about it. If only she knew why Anna wasn't happy about it. Anna choked back tears and ran back upstairs. She shut her door and blasted her iPod, playing rock to drown everything out while she got ready for school.
She finally got dressed, grabbed her bag, and booked it down the stairs, running out the door. When she got to school, people were still whispering. Everybody knew about what happened that Summer and still talked about it, now going into 3rd quarter. Anna walked to class: head down, hood up. Even if she was in hearing distance, people still talked about Anna all the time. There was just one problem, nobody knew what actually happened.
She sat by herself in the bathroom at lunch and in the back of every classroom. Anna had two classes with Jake, of course. He told her every day that he loved her after what happened. "Anna, I love you," he would say joking, but she could tell he wasn't kidding in his mind because there was some seriousness to it. She knew that because she remembered how he said it that night. His words still rang in her ears like the night played in her head.
********** To Be Continued***********
Anna woke finally, sweating and panting. She had fallen off her bed and scratched her arms as though she was struggling to get something off of her. Anna's mother was standing in the doorway holding a cup of coffee. "Are you okay?! You've been screaming for about four hours now. You need to get up for school now." Anna's mother wasn't very fond of any of her children, but cared for Anna because she was the youngest.
She got up from the hardwood floor and pulled her UNH sweatshirt on over her pink tank top. Anna pulled her hair into a bun and slowly walked down the steps to the kitchen, where she saw HIM sitting at the table, smirking as though he had just won a trophy for being the biggest tool in school. "Honey, this is your new tutor, Jake," her mother said, seeming happy about it. If only she knew why Anna wasn't happy about it. Anna choked back tears and ran back upstairs. She shut her door and blasted her iPod, playing rock to drown everything out while she got ready for school.
She finally got dressed, grabbed her bag, and booked it down the stairs, running out the door. When she got to school, people were still whispering. Everybody knew about what happened that Summer and still talked about it, now going into 3rd quarter. Anna walked to class: head down, hood up. Even if she was in hearing distance, people still talked about Anna all the time. There was just one problem, nobody knew what actually happened.
She sat by herself in the bathroom at lunch and in the back of every classroom. Anna had two classes with Jake, of course. He told her every day that he loved her after what happened. "Anna, I love you," he would say joking, but she could tell he wasn't kidding in his mind because there was some seriousness to it. She knew that because she remembered how he said it that night. His words still rang in her ears like the night played in her head.
********** To Be Continued***********
Monday, April 25, 2011
Great Grama Fox
I remember siting on her lap, sad because mommy wouldn't give me my own way. I had been crying for what seemed like hours. She wiped my tears, moved my hair from my eyes, and said in her scratchy, yet calming voice, "baby girl please don't cry." She always had a way with making things better and bringing the best out of people, good or bad.
Violet Rose Tulip Fox stood five feet tall, short, grey hair; dark complected with thick glasses, spider web veins in her legs, and some of the cheesiest outfits I've ever seen anyone wear. Her voice never raised at anyone, not even the brattiest of us great grandchildren.
*Christmas 2003*
"Are you ready to go see great grammy?" my mother said, knowing the answer already. My sister and I jumped around yelling in happiness. This meant we got to help make the popcorn strings on the tree, frost snowmen cookies, an set the table underneath the hand painted picture of "The Last Supper" on the wall in the dining room.
When we got there, we jumped out of the car and into snow in our new dressy shoes, making our feet wet. Everyone went to great grammy's house for Christmas, EVERYONE.
With being a widow comes taking care of everythin. Having four living children and one deceased, 10 grandchildren, adn about 32 great grandchildren meant lots of people in a small, two bedroom house with a tiny living room. She didn't care, as long as her family was together.
You could smell her cooking throughout the house. She always had everything her babies wanted. Myself, being the second oldest, got to help her decide everything for the holiday. My oldest cousin, and best friend, always had the same ideas and grammy loved it.
She was a strong woman and did anything for everyone who asked. Three weeks before Christmas of 2007, Great Grama Fox passed away in her sleep. She was 73 years old. I have never wanted to believe she's gone, but I guess everything happens for a reason. In her Will that was broken up into letter to everyone in the family, she left my sister and I the picture of "The Last Supper". Every time I think about her, I remember her words that us older girls heard a lot, "Baby girl, please don't cry."
Violet Rose Tulip Fox stood five feet tall, short, grey hair; dark complected with thick glasses, spider web veins in her legs, and some of the cheesiest outfits I've ever seen anyone wear. Her voice never raised at anyone, not even the brattiest of us great grandchildren.
*Christmas 2003*
"Are you ready to go see great grammy?" my mother said, knowing the answer already. My sister and I jumped around yelling in happiness. This meant we got to help make the popcorn strings on the tree, frost snowmen cookies, an set the table underneath the hand painted picture of "The Last Supper" on the wall in the dining room.
When we got there, we jumped out of the car and into snow in our new dressy shoes, making our feet wet. Everyone went to great grammy's house for Christmas, EVERYONE.
With being a widow comes taking care of everythin. Having four living children and one deceased, 10 grandchildren, adn about 32 great grandchildren meant lots of people in a small, two bedroom house with a tiny living room. She didn't care, as long as her family was together.
You could smell her cooking throughout the house. She always had everything her babies wanted. Myself, being the second oldest, got to help her decide everything for the holiday. My oldest cousin, and best friend, always had the same ideas and grammy loved it.
She was a strong woman and did anything for everyone who asked. Three weeks before Christmas of 2007, Great Grama Fox passed away in her sleep. She was 73 years old. I have never wanted to believe she's gone, but I guess everything happens for a reason. In her Will that was broken up into letter to everyone in the family, she left my sister and I the picture of "The Last Supper". Every time I think about her, I remember her words that us older girls heard a lot, "Baby girl, please don't cry."
Broken Home
On the outside, 525 Birch St. looked like a beautiful, well-made home. Flower gardens, fresh cut grass, sunshine. If you had to guess, you'd probably say life was good.
The truth behind the closed glossy, cherrywood door is that it's quite a broken home. A mother who once owned a store making more money than most, a father working as a head doctor at a hospital, and three children. After 15 years of owning the business, mom went bankrupt and foreclosed, turning into a mean alcoholic who was horrible at being a mom. Shortly after, due to stress, the father performed an improper surgery and was fired with a malpractice suit. He became bum and did nothing for anyone, not even his kids.
The youngest daughters tried to be as helpful as they could to their older brother who did as much of the housework as possible. He went to school, went to work, came home, and took care of the gardening, mowing, and his sisters.
The parents began fighting over who could do what better. Their son told them to go out and have a good time. They did, but never came back. This lead him to having to become "daddy" to the girls. He packed their lunch, got them breakfast, signed permission slips, and then did the things he needed to do to stay on top of things at school.
When teachers asked him if everything was okay, he lied, smiling and said, "yes, everything is fine." They were suspicious because they knew everything wasn't fine, but just went about their days. He only did this because he wanted to keep people from seeing that he was in a broken home.
In the end, he managed to graduate with a B+ average, but gave bak the scholarships and cancelled his college registration at the college he had dreamed of going to. Just to make sure his little sisters got through school. He had 10 years before he could think about college, but he didn't care. He knew that he had to be there. He could never let anyone see that his family came from a broken home.
The truth behind the closed glossy, cherrywood door is that it's quite a broken home. A mother who once owned a store making more money than most, a father working as a head doctor at a hospital, and three children. After 15 years of owning the business, mom went bankrupt and foreclosed, turning into a mean alcoholic who was horrible at being a mom. Shortly after, due to stress, the father performed an improper surgery and was fired with a malpractice suit. He became bum and did nothing for anyone, not even his kids.
The youngest daughters tried to be as helpful as they could to their older brother who did as much of the housework as possible. He went to school, went to work, came home, and took care of the gardening, mowing, and his sisters.
The parents began fighting over who could do what better. Their son told them to go out and have a good time. They did, but never came back. This lead him to having to become "daddy" to the girls. He packed their lunch, got them breakfast, signed permission slips, and then did the things he needed to do to stay on top of things at school.
When teachers asked him if everything was okay, he lied, smiling and said, "yes, everything is fine." They were suspicious because they knew everything wasn't fine, but just went about their days. He only did this because he wanted to keep people from seeing that he was in a broken home.
In the end, he managed to graduate with a B+ average, but gave bak the scholarships and cancelled his college registration at the college he had dreamed of going to. Just to make sure his little sisters got through school. He had 10 years before he could think about college, but he didn't care. He knew that he had to be there. He could never let anyone see that his family came from a broken home.
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