The Simply Complex Writer

     Leaning against a tree in the heat of that stupid, idiotic summer, I watched, watched with illogically, irrationally sad eyes. To be honest, my eyes made no real sense to me as I made them to look as such, but I did it anyways because I thought that something good might happen.

     Taking out a crumpled piece of paper, I wondered if she’d maybe look and think I was intelligent. Maybe someone important; I had asked God to give me something important to do and He had said to stop thinking and to love instead. I had also called myself a fool for that and, standing against the trunk of a tree in that idiotically stupid summer’s heat, I half-believed it, but in the back of my mind I thought fairytale-like endings could be true.

      My heart being a bit rash, kind of like the heat and my eyes, did something to the effect of pounding on my chest insanely fast with a fist clenched around some very shiny brass knuckles. She had waved, I think, at me.  

Charlie

February break, I thought i’d lay back and be lazy, but when I got into my mom’s car something licked me. I looked to my right and jumped. There inches from my leg was a dog. I found out we would be watching him the entire break.

The dog immediately loved me, whenever I moved he’d follow. I’d play with him for hours. He even slept on my bed, and he'd stay by my side all night. Whenever I got mad or sad, he would always be there, and every time he made me feel better, being my best friend that was always there for me. The worst day of break was the last day, because I knew it was the last day I’d have with him. That night I said my goodbyes, and we went to bed. I didn't want to say goodbye. I wanted him to stay.

Morning came, my mom woke me up, still there with my arms wrapped around him. We both got up and went to the car. As my mom drove off with the dog, one last time, I said with a single tear fell down my cheek,  Goodbye Charlie.”

“Come on Carter! Just do it!” Jacob practically yelled at me through the phone.

“Jake, I can’t just go up to her and ask her out… She’s Raven.” I said back.

Jacob had been trying to convince me to ask my crush out since I told him. But in high school, where everyone has a label, there’s all this pressure. And now that tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, he’s been even more persistent.

“Why not? So what, she’s intimidating. If you don’t ask her out tomorrow, you’ll never know what she thinks of you.” Jacob said impatiently.

“Well… fine.” I said, pausing, “Whatever. I got to go. See ya.”

I walked up to Raven alone at her locker. There was about 5 minutes before first period.

“Hey, Raven.” I said, looking at my feet.

She turned to face me. “Oh, hi Carter.” She said.  

I looked at her face. She looked so beautiful. I looked back down at my feet. “Hey, so… I was wondering… I just wanted to know… Do you want to go out with me?” I stammered.

She looked at me in surprise. “Well… Wow! Yeah, ‘course I do.” She said smiling, “What time?”

Miss Misunderstood

There were many words they used to torment the girl.

They called her beastly, because she didn’t wear make-up.

They called her chunky, because she didn’t look like the models in magazines.

They called her stupid, because she didn’t get a perfect score on a math test.

They called her outdated, because her family couldn’t afford new clothes.

They called her ratty, because her hair hadn’t been combed to perfection.

They called her antisocial because she couldn’t afford a cell phone.

They threw many insults toward the girl. Yet the one word no one ever used to describe her was misunderstood.

The End Of The Book
 

One sentence, but it doesn’t matter.

Two paragraphs, but it doesn’t matter.

Three pages, but it doesn’t matter.

Four chapters, but it doesn’t matter.

Five stories, but it doesn’t matter.

Only two words matter, The End,

The end of what started yesterday.

The end of what began tomorrow.

The end of a miracle made to come true.

The end of a tear showing the color blue.

The end of the dance, as delicate as it seems.

The end of the magic that sparked in your dreams.

The end of the wish, that you gave to the stars.

The end of the time, you had spent behind bars.

The end of a lifetime of memories.

The end of the book.

 The path is a little vessel, leading me to the main artery- the untrodden sea. The grass shifts as an organism, and that is how the earth tends to work- moving as a single organism. And when I reach the end of the path, the mouth of the ocean is ready to swallow me whole. Then I realize that my existence means nearly nothing in the grand scheme of occurrences. I am standing at the edge now. Nothing surrounds me but the forest, waving grass, and sea. I have my favorite song on, and I close my eyes. The breeze tingles through shuttering eyelashes, a kiss from the lips of totality. I look to the sky for my ultimate answer. It’s shocking blue houses no powdered white- it is sharp and clear, a mirror imagine of this moment of clarity I am experiencing. I lay on my back to witness the gaping sky. It looks down upon me. I take a photograph with an empty mind. The image resonates. I do not have a specific reasoning- but to just be.

How was I supposed to focus on radioactive decay when Brett’s voice was filling my ears? May was speaking too, but I could only hear Brett. I badly wanted to be distracted from their kiss scene, but I remained captivated.

My heart raced. I wasn’t even the one about to make out with someone on stage. They were calm, and they knew that they would have to kiss in front of a one thousand person audience in a few weeks. I cleared my mind and looked back down at my chemistry worksheet.

“I love you,” Brett’s voice echoed. I looked up just in time to see May put her lips on Brett’s.

A part of me fell apart. I had been up for May’s role. Maybe if I’d worked harder I would’ve gotten it and been in her place. The curtain closed. I returned to my work solemnly.

“I wonder if anyone could tell,” May whispered. Her mic was still on. I discreetly hung upon her every word. Brett laughed.

“I love you,” Brett replied. The sound of a kiss followed.

I shattered silently, but still wrote the products of the decay of Americium-241.

We think we create our own bliss;

But it's all just foolishness;

We take every chance we get;

Just to make another wish.

We put up towering walls;

And create codes of laws;

But it will all come crashing down;

Because everything always falls.

There's nothing to stop the dawn;

It would take too long;

The beginning of a new day;

Where all our cities are gone.

We hide behind a facade;

While the options are weighed;

We hide in citadels;

While the decisions are made.

The choices are made for us;

We never make a fuss;

What freedom we do have;

A people that always distrusts.

We push each other down;

To increase our renown;

We encourage division;

Always competing for the crown.

We think we create our own bliss;

But it's all just foolishness;

We take every chance we get;

Just to make another wish.

Stage IV breast cancer implies that the cancer cells have spread to distant parts of the body, such as the brain, liver, bones and lungs. Stage four is considered incurable, but treatment may extend the lifespan of a patient for several years. The five-year survival rate is 22%.

The first time I ever felt restrained by silence was when my mother told me the cancer had come back. It dripped from her words and formed a puddle at her feet; she seemed unaware of the flood she was creating. Her bedroom floor was struggling to hold the weight of her words. It seemed ready to crack and send us falling four floors, down to the lobby. The cancer had spread to her kidneys and bones. For months, she had told me it was arthritis. She walked with a limp at first, then with a cane, and then not at all. She had told me it was arthritis. Tragedy has the tendency to make you honest. I tried finding anger, but I couldn’t; tragedy also inspires forgiveness. The silence that separated us that day was bitter. It found its way into my mouth, and prevented me from talking.

“Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?” An officer bashes Jordan’s face against the rear window.

            “You didn’t read no rights.” Jordan struggles to make out as he gasps for air.

            “Shut up, nigger.”

            A haunting car ride to a part of town that Jordan never would’ve dreamed of visiting blurs his vision. His eyes twitch against the fiber of the seat, his hands restrained behind his back force him to lean forward. He falls victim to the system that kills the dreams of niggas.

            He sits in silence. The words of his brother blast over the wailing of sirens. “You’re nothing without this gang” “Where would you be without me?” “You followed me” “You’ll be my bitch.”

            Jordan closes his eyes and allows the movement of the car to nauseate him. Through his eyelids there are shades of blue and red, a black man’s nightmare.