I've had enough

Hey you!

Yes I mean you!

Its too late to run kid, i've already seen you.

Oh really?

Yeah if you say so.

You were here last week too weren't you?

Don't lie I saw you.

damn kids hanging around here, don't think I don't know what your up to.

well go ahead chucking your stuff all over. I'm so sick of this. First the water spilling when I dip the mop, then all this packaging from sweets lying around...

oh and the dust collecting

and my back aches.

Its so unfair I have to do this. That ass who didn't want to take me as an assistant...If I could just...
just...
just...

but no I need the money.

One day i'll show you all i'm better than a caretaker.

You turned up one day on my doorstep. Just like that. The bell rang and my heels clicked across the hallway to answer. I gazed down upon you, trying for the life of me to imagine what you could want. The time was half past midnight and I hadn't even began to think about sleep. My conscience was eating away at me, all I wanted was some alone time . You were the last thing I expected to turn up.

Wearily I led you in to the sitting room. I plumped up the old purple cushions embroidered with flowers and gestured to you to sit down. I wanted to turn you away. I wanted just to slam the door in your face like I would to a door sales man, but that would be like closing a door to my past. Trapping my emotions in a room and locking them up for ever.

Stirring my tea with a plastic stirrer I sighed heavily. I watched you taking small sips and waited for some kind of explanation. I blew heavily on my tea. A sigh escaped my lips and I looked down into the tea. I needed to say something.

"So what brought you here tonight?" I asked with a tinge of annoyance in my voice.

The woman cleared her throat, "I'm sure you don't need me to answer that question Anita."

"I'm sure I do" I replied. It was no use, the realisation was evident in my voice. My eyes looked tired as if they had seen to much in this lifetime. I took the fragile woman's hand in mine. She stared into my eyes, her watery pale blue eyes digging deep into my soul.

"Why can't you just admit that mistakes happen?" I muttered. "Both of us were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"You can keep believing that if you wish." She said in the type of voice that makes the very core of you wobble like jelly.

"When you decide to grow up and behave like an adult maybe you will take the duster out of the closet and brush the dust of your delusional memories. But until then the fact isn't going to go away."I looked down, trying to free my self of the grip she had over me.

All of a sudden I burst of anger exploded inside me.

"It wasn't me who killed her, Julia. It was you. Don't talk to me about hiding from the truth."

"You said it yourself, we were both in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Like a cloud in the summer sky, the memory drifted back into my mind. It was a cool spring morning and everything seemed perfectly normal. I had just dropped my son off at his boarding school after an enjoyable week together. I was running low on food supplies and Gracie needed some new clothes so decided I would go to the shopping centre.

I felt exhausted and needed a coffee. I dumped my bag on the seat next to me and sipped, deep in thought.

And then the bomb EXPLODED.

Children's screams vibrated in my ears. Babies wailed. The shopping centre was in havoc. Bodies lay littered on the floor. I was running for the exit before my legs had even be told to by my brain. But then Julia's place solemn face caught my eye. She was the only one not screaming or running for the exit. She looked pale. I stared at her for a few seconds holding eye contact for just a fraction.

She leaned her back to the door and slid down to the floor. Eyes shut she looked almost as if she was deep in sleep. I ran to help her. She would not wake up. Mustering all the strength I could I lifted her up and ran out the door with her in my arms.

I lay her down on a pile of jackets and raised her legs. I waited for her to awaken. Slowly her eye lids flickered open and she repeated a name.

"Aimee. Aimee. Aimee I killed Aimee."

"Go back. fetch Aimee."

I whispered gently to her, "We cant go back in there."

My mind was churning over all the things I had seen. Who was Aimee? what did Julia do to kill her?

Little did I realise just how tangled up in this mystery I was to become.


To be continued.....

Ode:To The earth - attempt

Beautiful earth, I question why you flair up with rage creating the greatest hurricane.

Why you flash with temper to create such beautiful lightening.

When you feel happy you smile down on us, blinding us by your bright teeth.

When you love us you shine for us, when you hate us you try to wash away our sin.

You never deny us the right to beauty, you never pretend to ignore our prayers.

Rose?

I shivered as I felt an icy chill travel down my neck. Rumor has it a child died here...

Entangled in my own thoughts, I watched on sombrely. Happy children giggled and chattered spreading glitter over Christmas cards, the walls, and the floor too. One child looked like an angel. Big Innocent eyes, blond springy ringlets and a big cheesy smile to match. She turned to look as she became aware I was staring at her.

Before I could stop myself, my daughters name escaped my lips. Rose? I whispered hoarsely. The word repeated its self like an echo in my head. Rose? Forcing itself out and shattering like shards of glass into a thousand pieces.

Mothers turned to face me, expressions of shock possessing their features.

''lunatic'' cried one woman, with dark brown eyes and an expression of poison on her face.

''I...I...I was just''...I stammered out trying to explain myself. It was no use. My words flew out like a slap in the face. Desperately trying to steady myself, I grabbed hold of the nearest hand I could reach. Tears streamed down my face leaving glistening tracks.

Rose a voice inside me screamed.

''my baby come here''

But it was no use. My words hit the walls and re bounded. No presence here but my own.

Rose had long ago descended. I was just a lunatic with a heart stuffed full to the brim of insanity.

Tagged

I've been tagged by Gavin, my reqirements are to answer the following questions and then to tag all the other amazing people I can think of :)

1. What is the last thing you wrote? what is the first thing you wrote that you still have?

The last thing I wrote was the two short poems below about the two things in the world which make me happiest.


Either the first thing I wrote that I still have was a poem about dinosaurs which won a competition or a poem at school for my mum. It was for mothers day about why I love my mum. It was a poem. I sometimes dig it out if I need a laugh. To sum it up, I loved mum for doing the cleaning. I remember it made all my teachers laugh and I couldn't understand why!

2.Write poetry?
I attempt to.


3. Angsty poetry
Unfortunately the tone of some seem to appear it.


4.Favourite genre of writing?
Reflective writing. (Yeah not a genre but hey) I like writing that makes people think.

5.Most annoying character you have ever created?

That's a tough one because most of my work is about thoughts and feelings rather than characters.

6.Best plot you have ever created?
Hmm, that's a tough one again. Probably the Shadow chaser, which I haven't posted.

7.Coolest plot twist you have ever created?
I really can't remember I have written so many.

8.How often do you get writers block?
Too often. Most of the time in fact. I like to vary my writing rather than stick to the same tone (defiantly something I fail at) Usually this means I am trying to think of new ways to create something exciting and different. Some days I just can't seem to get my ideas across the way I want them.

9.Write fan fiction?
No, its not my style.


10.Do you type or write by hand?
Most of the type I just start typing, but sometimes I like to write it by hand in a notebook. This is usually when I want to go somewhere like the woods or to a river which inspires me. Sometimes I write by hand to give myself a computer break though.


11. Do you save everything you write?
I save most things, usually because they contain a memory I can't bear to let go of. If I am writing to let it all out, I wont save. This usually ends up looking depressed and emo, which is not
a good thing.


12. Do you ever go back to an idea when you have abandoned it?
Not usually. If I see something which inspires me to continue I may give it another try.


13. Whats your favourite thing you have ever written?
This is an easy one! A ghost story I wrote for a competition. It was about a girl chasing a Shadow to find her soul. I think I scared myself reading it back. Dark and spooky is a style that comes more naturally to me.

14. Whats everyone else's favourite story you have ever written?
I have no idea. I tend to write for myself rather than others. I only know the opinions of those who comment.


15.Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Romance? Yes, but usually mixed in with another style. Straight up slushy romance is boring to read. Angusty teen drama?No not really.


16. Whats your favourite setting for characters?
That's a tough one because I tend to focus on the characters feelings and emotions rather than the settings.


17. How many writing projects are you working on right now?
I just started one writing a story behind a picture, but it didn't work out the way I wanted. I'm writing a poem for someone else so that is my main focus at the moment.


18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
Umm...I won a couple of poetry competitions..does that count? maybe not then.


19.what are your five favourite words?
passion
motivation
love
hate
reflection


20.what character have you created that is most like yourself?
Most of my writing is written from my perspective so all of them I guess. Probably a character who spends a lot of time on her own thinking. A character who is best friends with her imagination.

21. Where do you get your ideas for your characters?
The character normally develops as my writing does.



22.Do you ever write based on your dreams?
No, I tend to write based on my current feelings. I save my dreams for in my head. Although I suppose certain pieces are influenced by them.


23. Do you favour happy endings?
No I don't. I prefer endings which are true to life. Although often in life there are happy endings, there isn't always. A poem or story which makes the audience think about their character, or their behavior is best. Even if sometimes it doesn't end the way the reader wants. So I guess I would say, I favour endings which evoke reflection.

24. are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
That's one of the hardest parts of writing to me. I am picky about spelling and grammar although I am bad at it. If I or someone else notices a mistake in my writing I will go straight back and correct it.

25. Does music help well you write?
Defiantly. Often music is my inspiration. Music gives me the ideas and gets me in to the flow. I don't know where I would be without it.


26.Quote something you have written. Whatever pops in your head.
''Never too old to leave my childhood. Never too old to old to completely shed my childhood skin. Maturity has time to let me laugh back moments that I had tried to lock away. No room in my life to deny myself. No time to deny the moments that shape you. Laughter, smiles and honesty fall back into my outreached hands. Close around them and never let them go. ''

Now tag other awesome blogs

Oleuanna

Pierre

Two short poems posted by Soph

Rainbow soul
Brush sweeps across the pallet, erasing black and white. Combining oranges, pinks, blues and greens.Colours dribble and mingle.

Take the hand of your brother, for there is no perfect. There is no superior. There is no inferior.

When does an artist paint a beautiful landscape with just one colour?

Only one beauty exists;inner beauty. When the rain falls down let the rainbow of your soul shine brightly. It's time to join hands with your brothers and sisters.

We are all one race. We are all human.


Carpe Diem

Waves or pleasure surge through my body when I see your face smiling down at me. Looking at me and loving me. I shut my eyes again hoping you won't notice.

I hear your soothing whispers. I don't respond. I'll wait until later to tell you I was listening.

Your beautiful face, your soft smiling eyes. The way you laugh at my jokes.

You encourage me to achieve my potential. You are the person who makes me who I am.

~~thank you Gav for making me try something
different...I'm pleased I managed to do it :) you rock~~

The beauty of art

Sometimes in life one can experience thoughts that are beyond capeable of being expressed by the human languague. Thoughts which require deeper exploration. Few people have the gifts or the creative flair to adress these inner thoughts calling them to produce a reflective peice of art work.


The main focus of a peice of art work is the beautiful composition and colours used to demonstrate the feelings and emotions of the artist. Each picture means more than just a peice of art to hang on the wall. They represent the painters outlook on life, and a way of untangling many confused emotions. It would be imposible for me to pick my favourite peice because each peice represents a different issue and a different perspective. However, Some works of art which really make me think are:



Study on the wall by Julian Opie- This is an extrememly thought provoking picture. What really grabbed me about it was the way the characters are pictured emotionless and empty. It almost looked as if they were looking out of a glass box. The expressions used in this picture are very significant because they are what creates the mood of the picture. The picture almost looks as if the characters are locked out of the room in a dream. The way the colours are kept to a minimal, using just black and white illustrates the drabness and the bordom the artist aims to convey through this picture. I can relate to this picture, as can many I'm sure. It reminds me of the feeling of not being able to connect properly.



The origin of the world by Anish Kapoor- This work of art is based mainly around the use of empty space. This appears to be endless, offering the observer the chance to try to find the end to an empty world. The black overall shape in the centre is a symbol which encourages the observer to put the world in to perspectice. The shape representing the world and the space representing the emptyness which surrounds us. When creating the peice of art work Kapoor clearly wanted us to think about the significance of a human being against the universe. The colours are used to show the bleak reality of our exsistance, and possibly that we have a chance to add colour to our lives.