A Person’s Story
When you are walking down the street in your neighborhood, what do you see? I see neat, good-looking but still modest homes resting on manicured lawns. A neighborhood like any other, I suppose… But have you ever wondered what was inside those homes? Most people, including myself at times, focus only on their own troubles. Leave others’ affairs alone, we tell ourselves. If they wanted us to know, they would tell us. But at times, as I walk along the sidewalk on my way home from school, I allow myself to peer at a house I am passing by and wonder, what is this family’s history? What struggles and what joys did they have? And then I begin to create that house’s story.
Does that sound strange to you? Maybe it is. But think about it: How many times in our “busy lives” have we really thought about the people around us whom we have never met, but easily could, and what they are going through? When I think about it, I feel terrible.
My neighborhood is very shut in, and very few people ever come out except to walk their dog or to go somewhere else. I do not know my neighbors, and they don’t know me. We all stay inside our houses, only thinking about our own lives. We live a few feet away from each other, and we never really met. And it’s not just neighbors, either; how many people have you seen each day, and you don’t even know their names? Classmates, people you see at work, or someone you just pass by often?
Eyery person has a story—how many do you know besides your own?
my thoughts | Comment (0)Winter
(Inspired by Nikki Giovanni’s Knoxville Tennessee)
I always like winter
Best
You can make snowmen
From the snow outside
And forts
And snowballs
And snow angels
And lots of
Christmas lights
And presents
And hot chocolate
In my house
And listen to
Christmas carols
Inside
At my church
Concert
And decorate the Christmas tree with
My dad
And be considerate
And be giving
All the time
Not only when people are watching
And thanking you
poetry | Comment (0)A Cherry Tree
In all our lives, Emily was our ray of sunshine. She was always bright and optimistic, despite her surroundings, and very curious and energetic, which she still is to this day. She is the most special person in my life. She is my little sister.
One snowy winter night, Emily, my parents, and I were all sitting on the couch, watching television. Despite the cold weather outside, the house was cozy and snug, with the fireplace lit with merrily flickering flames and mugs of hot chocolate resting on the coffee table. Emily was eight at the time, and I was nineteen.
During the commercial break, an ad about traveling to Japan appeared on the screen. “Kenny!” Emily exclaimed. She turned to me, grabbing my arm. “That’s where you’re going tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, retrieving my arm from her grasp. “And don’t call me Kenny,” I added in annoyance. She pouted and turned back to the TV. An image of a field of cherry trees rolled onto the screen.
“Ooh, how Pretty!” she marveled. “Kenny! You have to get me one of those when you go to Japan!”
“I’ll be too busy, Emily. Besides, they probably don’t even grow on our soil. Why do you want a tree, anyway?”
Her sapphire blue eyes twinkled merrily. “They’re so pretty and pink! Like cotton candy! You rave to get me one! Pleeeeassse?” she begged. I rolled my eyes, hiding a smile.
The next day, I headed off to Japan with my band. I was going there for a concert tour for two months. I was having a blast, and everything was going smoothly, until one day, when my phone rang…
At two a.m., I groggily groped around for my loudly ringing phone in the darkness. I found it on my nightstand and answered it. “Hello?” I yawned, rubbing my eyes.
“Ken! You need to come home right now!” mom’s panicked voice said.
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked drowsily.
“Emily’s… not well,” she replied.
“What do you mean?” I said sharply.
“She was feeling ill, so we took her to the doctor. We found out that… Ken, she has cancer!”
“No way,” I said in disbelief. I almost dropped the phone, but swiftly caught it. “She couldn’t… she wouldn’t…”
“Just get down here, Ken. She really wants to see you.”
I took a flight home as soon as possible. Once I arrived, I threw my suitcase on the ground, swung open my little sister’s door, and charged into her room. I found her lying in her bed, reading. When she heard me enter, she looked up. Upon seeing me, she jumped out of bed and exclaimed “Kenny!” as she ran to me and gave me a hug.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her gently. Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s okay,” I whispered, holding her close. She sobbed into my chest. “It’ll be alright. You’ll see.”
The next few months were tough. Emily had to go through chemotherapy, making her emotional and weak. It also caused her hair to fall out. That was devastating to her, because she loved her hair, which was a beautiful and curly sandy blonde that was often pulled up into pigtails with pink bows. Regardless of the pain she had to endure, I hadn’t seen her cry since the day I had returned. Instead, she put on a brave face for everyone and always smiled.
During those months, I constantly worried about what would happen to her, and believed that if I turned my back for a second, she would be gone. Emily was strong, however, and although I know having cancer must have worried her, she still lived life to the fullest. She lived life as normally as possible for as long as she could.
But despite her strength, our doctor said she still might not make it. She grew weaker and weaker each day, and spent a lot of time sleeping. And one morning, when I tried to rouse her for breakfast, she wouldn’t wake up. After many attempts at waking her, we decided to leave her alone. But when she was still sleeping at eight o’clock at night, we grew worried. We drove her to the hospital, where she was confirmed to be in a coma. The doctor said she most likely wouldn’t come out of it alive.
I stayed by her bedside all night. She remained in her coma for three days, and I spent most of the time with her, praying that she would get better. “Emily…you’ve got to get up,” I pleaded with her sleeping form. She looked so frail lying in her hospital bed, her normally rosy cheeks deathly pale and bony. “I never realized it until now, but I need you. We all need you.” My voice choked up. “So please don’t go.” I grabbed her hand. “I’m lost without you.”
Just then, I felt a slight squeeze on my hand. I stared up at her face in astonishment. Her eyes were partly opened, and she had a slight smile on her face. “I love you, Kenny,” she whispered with difficulty.
My arms enveloped her small body as I embraced her. “You’re okay, I said with a sigh of relief. Moments later, I drifted off to sleep. I hadn’t slept much in the past three days. When I woke up, I found out that Emily had prevailed in her battle against cancer and was on the road to recovery. After a week of rest, although she was still a little feeble, she could still walk about the house. I could tell that she was eager to resume her life.
“Hey Emily,” I said to her one time after lunch, “do you want to go outside for a while?” I already knew the answer. “Or would you rather—”
“Yes!” she chirped before I could even finish my sentence. She pulled on her shoes and eagerly made her way towards the door. I held her hand, ready to help her if she became too tired. When we reached the door that led to the backyard, I began to turn the doorknob.
“Guess what?” I asked her, well aware that it would get on her nerves because she was eager to get outside.
“What?” she replied impatiently.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Really?” she squealed.
“Yep. It’s outside. But you have to close your eyes.” Her eyes flew shut. I opened the door and led her outside. “Alright, you can open them now.”
Her eyes slowly opened, then widened. “Kenny! I can’t believe it!” Her eyes glistened with tears. She hugged me tight. “Thank you,” she whispered.
A small lone tree stood in the middle of the yard. The pink blossom-covered branches swayed in the wind. Occasionally, soft, delicate pink petals would flutter down to the ground or caress Emily’s cheek as she laughed, talked, and danced around blissfully with the sane energy she had before she got sick.
It was difficult to grow, but Emily was enduring so much hardship that it was the least I could do. The tree wasn’t meant for our soil, and at times I was certain it would die, but it pulled through and thrived, blossoming beautifully, And to this day the tree stands firm and strong, having grown taller and more beautiful than ever. Just like Emily.
short story | Comment (1)Time: A Chain Poem
When I think of time,
I know it is ongoing.
In life it is forever constant
like a circle, it has no end.
Forever turning like a wheel,
independant of us, it is unstoppable.
And that is why it’s so daunting.
poetry | Comment (0)Doors: A Chain Poem
In our lives, we are surrounded by doors.
At times one will open,
giving you oppertunities to consider.
To go through that door, you take a risk.
Although you may fail, you could also find success.
And when you succeed, you will find happiness.
poetry | Comment (0)Welcome to my blog!!! =)
Hello, and welcome to my blog, which I am writing for my creative writing class!
my thoughts | Comment (0)