Start to a Fantasy Story

“Bring the girl here.” Her voice was stern, chilling. “Now!”

My hands tied behind my back, they guide me to her. Someone’s hand grips my shoulder. I stare at the stone ground. I am miles away from my home, in a town seemingly imaginary. “How DARE you,” she hisses, shaking the earth. I feel the tears brimming my eyelids. “You are a criminal, Ophelia! You were my most trusted servant, and you betrayed me. You will not die in honor.” A cry escapes my throat. I try my best to stand tall, to stay dignified. “I hope you enjoyed yourself! You will spend the rest of your life incarcerated!”

My jaw drops. I look up at her, mouth agape. “No! Please!” I plead, but the floor gives out beneath me. They snatch my arms and drag me, my face rubbing the floor. “Please, your highness! Forgive me! My lord!” Then I lose consciousness, due to the increased pressure on my head.

I wake up hours later in utter darkness. I shiver. Chains bond my hands; they press into my now purple skin. Instinctively, I tilt back my head and scream for all it’s worth.

Just a Little Ranting

Prompt: Write about something that really bothers you, then rant about it.

What bothers me most? Love.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe love makes the world go around. It tests people. It defines people. Love is the glue that holds us together when we seem to have nothing left. Love bonds families, bonds friends, bonds two strangers. Actually, we would be nowhere without a thing called love- the most passionate emotion.

But sometimes, love doesn’t go our way. Every song seems to remind you of that person, filling your arms with goosebumps, keeping you awake at night. All your memories constantly play in your mind. That person- that same person who so selflessly brought you into their life- now wants you no longer. No matter how much you wish, how much you cry, you can’t bring them back. They have made up their mind. When you close your eyes, it is they you see. When you clear your mind, you still hear their whisper. When you wake up in the morning, they are the sunshine peeking through the windows.

So now you must move on and act like it never happened. You must go on with your life, filling your daily duties. You mustn’t complain or chase them. That won’t change a thing. No, you must skip the songs that remind of you of them, or turn off the radio altogether. Either is better than the nostalgia. You must avoid taking that route if it was your frequent encounter. When someone asks you about them, you must swallow your feelings and admit that it wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t meant to be- you know that, right? Erase all your fairy-tale thoughts, erase them all right now. In the end they were only out to hurt you.

I am not trying to be a pessimist. I have seen the world, and I felt my heart rip at the seams. Strangling me, killing me. That is what true, unconditional love does.

I loved love, but it was unrequited.

From EZ Mac to Mac Miller; From Kid to Rap Superstar

It is an afternoon in 2014.

Children explode from the elementary schools, their feet dancing against the pavement. Unlike the surrounding adults, they hold a sense of innocence, a sense of wonder. They don't fear the future; they don't fear anything at all (except maybe a scrape or two). I look at them and give a bright smile. If only I could have kept that drive, that love of life, I think to myself. Life is too complicated anymore.

Instinctively, I retrieve my I-pod and plug in the headphones. I scan through the eight hundred and twenty three songs. I have everything from Rascal Flatts to the Smiths, mostly darker tunes. With a groan, I diligently look for something the least bit uplifting. And there it is.

No matter where life takes me, find me with a smile,
Pursuit to be happy, only laughing like a child

And I do smile. Mac Miller's song "Best Day Ever" never fails to lift my spirits, if only briefly. I imagine his cheeky grin, his sagging jeans, his backwards hat. Anymore, it is rare to find someone who hasn't heard of this rap superstar. He sells out concert after concert; he even has his own show on MTV. But things weren't always so smooth for Mac- he had to work earnestly for success.

Mac Miller grew up in Point Breeze, Pittsburgh- just under an hour from where I live. He often references his hometown, most notoriously his high school Taylor Alldredice. He skipped most classes. In the others, he took naps; he made too much music to sleep. Referring to his early dedication, he says, "Once I hit 15, I got real serious about it and it changed my life completely...I used to be into sports, play all the sports, go to all the high school parties. But once I found out hip-hop is almost like a job, that's all I did."

Besides passing CDs between classes, Mac Miller also performed at a rap club, the Shadow Lounge. A host Thelonious Stretch says regarding Mac, "His charisma has always been at a high level. Because he was already a superstar before the world knew it." His high school knew, though, voting him "Most Likely to be a Rapper" and "Most Likely to be Famous."

While still in high school, he signed with Rostrum Records, releasing the mixtape K.I.D.S, his fourth. "If you're not a kid anymore, this mixtape is about remembering when you were a kid and how you were able to live," he reveals. It has been downloaded over 800,000 times. Due to his success, he went on the "Incredibly Dope Tour" and sold out everywhere. This mixtape includes songs like "Senior Skip Day", which anecdotes his fun high school memories, and  "Nikes on My Feet", which was filmed at Taylor Alldredice.

In 2011, his debut album Blue Slide Park reached number one on billboard 200 chart. The name is derived from Pittsburgh's section Blue Slide Park. Like many others, my favorite is his "Missed Calls", expressing his on-and-off again relationship with Nomi Leasure. This song explores the sad reality of fame, how maintaining relationships becomes much more difficult. "You just don't love me like you used to, think I'm 'bout to lose you," he raps sadly.

Just two years later came his second album, Watching Movies with the Sound off. This album is "very personal and very introspective", covering his addiction to codeine and sex. It carries a much different vibe than the fun Blue Slide Park or K.I.D.S. Every song seems to have hidden meanings, "Remember" a tribute to his deceased childhood friend. But I found that this was the follow-up of fame, the "behind the curtain"appeal. We seem to glorify drugs and partying without viewing its long-term affects. In another song, "Watching Movies", Mac writes as if he views his life objectively.

Imma be fine, no matter the time, just go along with the show

But no matter what variation of Mac you prefer, one thing is universal: his love for music.

Some of My Favorite Authors

These are in no particular order:
Jodi Picoult- With books like The Pact (of course My Sisters Keeper), it is hard to stray from her work. I love the switching perspectives and controversial subjects. It seems as though most of her writings include scandals within households and how these families overcome. They are "larger than life" tales, as they exemplify how a family can suffer and manage to survive. Both books I have read I was not able to put down, which says a lot considering their massive volumes

Emma Donogue- Room. That's all I really have to say. If you pick up that masterpiece, you will understand why she is so successful and rewarded. She writes in the POV of a five year old abducted boy. A very smart child, but a child nonetheless. His thoughts are very coherent and expected of a kid that age. To me, it is remarkable we gain full insight from his character. Such an enjoyable read!

Julie Anne Peters- Keeping You a Secret. A member of the lgbt community, I am always relieved to find books that are relatable. In this novel, we view a passionate love between two teens, two girls. It is so accurate in its scenario; one character accepts herself fully, while the other has never felt such strong emotions. Obviously, family tension arises, and its extremities highlight the struggles the lgbt community still face. Peters does an amazing job capturing adolescent emotions and heartbreak.

Audrey Niffenegger- The Time Traveler's Wife. Now I will start off by criticizing her rapid change of POV, and how both characters seem to perceive things the same. That bothered me a lot. Her writing, however, is flawless and eloquently descriptive. As Henry visited different dimensions, I felt like I was right along with him. Simply because her writing is so vivid. There is so much imagery here, not to mention the entire theme a metaphor. Without smacking us across the face, Niffenegger tells us that no matter what stage of life you visit, never lose track of the ones that mean the most. Put effort into your relationships. Because when you advance to that next step, they will be all you have.

Barry Lyga- Boy Toy. When thirteen year old Josh is abused by his teacher, Eve, he is scarred for life. How can he go on and pretend to be a normal kid? We view Josh's flashbacks through "flickers", tiny snippets of those traumatizing nights. The character's unheard voice is bone-chilling and outright scary. Exciting us further, Lyga continuously promises us that these characters will meet again, that there will be some kind of confrontation. I was running around my house hooting and hollering. Lyga dives right into this scandal and makes us feel for actually both the characters. Although Eve committed a harmful crime, she obviously suffered from a mental illness and will be haunted for the rest of her life. This book teaches us to forgive.

Yann Martel- Life of Pi. This is not a read that takes days or even weeks. To fully grasp this plot, you need to dedicate a good amount of time. Because there are so many themes buried within. I feel as though I will need to read this four or five times to truly understand and grasp all meanings. While reading, I continuously asked myself what made this novel so grand. I could not get it. I promise you, though, the ending makes everything come full-circle, and I guarantee some tears will be shed.

An Essay Submission; Tell me your thoughts

I think it's important for young people to get active because activity sets the tone for one's entire life. Whenever someone exercises, it is proven that one's mood improves and stress levels decrease. This is due to the beta endorphins being released. In addition, many people suffer from depression and other mental disorders. Being exposed to fresh air and sunshine would immediately benefit one's mental health, as opposed to inactivity.

As most people realize, exercise greatly affects physical health, too. Obesity is a widespread problem in America: one out of every three children is overweight or obese. Of course, healthy eating is a significant factor, but exercise is significant, too, if not more so. To at least maintain one's weight, a person should burn as many calories as they consume. How can he or she do so while lounging on the couch, or staring at a television? It is impossible! By decreasing risks of obesity, one also decreases risks of other health complications, such as heart disease and diabetes. So, it is reasonable to believe exercise promotes a longer-lasting life.

If a person decides to exercise too close to bedtime, then he or she will probably find themselves wide awake. Otherwise, exercise has been proven to aid sleep. Doctors recommend teenagers get about eight hours of sleep. As a teenager, though, I can say an eight hour sleep for most of us is a dream. Perhaps it correlates with our lack of activity, our desire to be lethargic. In addition, people accuse America of being “over-medicated”, prescribing unnecessary amounts of medication. Would we be able to reduce sleep medication if everyone just exercised a little more?

In 2013, students failed to achieve academics within the global twenty. Considering international competition, this fact is embarrassing, if not terrifying. Our history includes being the leader of every field, of every aspect. What does this mean for the future of the eagle? Frantic, political leaders demand more and more standardized tests. They practically drill us with exams, and if those fail, we have these exotic new methods to learn. With all due respect, I doubt there is more than one way to add one plus one.

But maybe we are digging too deep, trying too hard. Maybe the solution is much more simple, much less expensive and time-consuming.

I have noticed within my school that those who perform in sports generally receive better grades than those who don't. This doesn't exactly make sense, considering the little free time they are given. Exercise, however, has been said to improve concentration and dedication. One's loyalty to a team connects to one's loyalty to his studies. This is not to mention the brain stimulation during activity.

Before you try that new fad diet or sleeping pills or question your mental health, go for a nice walk around the park. It may help more than you think.

November Rain Inspired

I don't know when this started
I don't want it to end
Keep this replaying, over and over
Help erase those years of pain
I want to forget
everything but your eyes and
your smile-
until the end of time.
The deepest shade of green
captures the passion
of one life lived,
of two lives to be.
Forgetting my name
is the price I pay.
All that I sacrifice
day after day.
Just to see you
and to hold you in my arms
is such an honor,
speechless me.
Until then
I'll dream of the moon and stars
knowing my heart
is connected to yours.

5/3/14

"What did you think? Did you expect me not to marry him?" I snap, my arms folding one over the other. "I LOVE him, Chelsey."

Her eyes now hold a glassy shield; her hands begin to tremble. "I know that's not the truth," she whispers. Her tone makes my legs go weak.

Angrily, I swipe away the sneaky tears. "It doesn't matter whether it is or it isn't." I continue the final coating, dabbing at the easel. "All that matters," I finish, "is that he is my husband, and there's nothing more to it."

I hate myself for those heartless words. I hate myself for smiling soon after, pretending as if I am happy. Truthfully, I am not yet acquainted with happiness. If it were to knock on my door, I would mistake it for the dreariness surrounding my world. Day after day is routine. Routine of self-loathing, self-destruction. I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she can see the misery bleeding through my once exuberant eyes. I wonder if she knows that not a day goes by without missing her.

Her voice pleading, desperate, "Look, I'm sorry that I fucked you over! I'm sorry that I left without any fucking reason, and left you worse than when I met you! I'm sorry I'm such a goddamn awful person! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Her screams elapse through these thin walls. A warning, I shoot her a look, but she continues passionately, "I just want you to know that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Erica Ann, and I will never be the same. I will never be the same." Tears glistening, Chelsey shakes her head. She is sobbing uncontrollably. Humiliated, she bows her head, her hands suffocating.

I have never witnessed such an atrocity.

"Would you stop it?" I shriek, pulling her hands from her head. But she won't. Her hungry nails dig deep into her flesh, the blood immediately arriving. "Chelsey! Stop!"

She shoves me forcefully and hisses, "How could you marry him? After he cheated on you and used to hit you? And then he fucked that hooker across the street? How could you marry such a piece of SHIT? HOW COULD YOU?"

A sea of tears drowns my chubby cheeks. I swoop up her shaking body. By holding her in my arms, I hinder her mental breakdown. My lips are pressed against her sunny hair. Hushing, I whisper, "Everything is going to be okay."

I always hated lying to her.