Untitled Book- Chapter 3 Sneak Peak

“Girls! Lets go! Your going to be late for gymnastics!” I call up the stairs for the fourth time. Gymnastics is on the same day, at the same time, every week. Yet, they are never ready. “5 minutes, and I’m leaving without you!” the pitter patter of little feet sounds over my head accompanied by high pitch giggles.  I head into the kitchen to make a quick snack when I see it. Or… Him? Out of the back window in the kitchen stands a dark hooded figure. The light from the setting sun casts a shadow across his face making him unrecognizable. 23 days, 33120 minutes, 1987200 seconds. You are numbered. A deep, rustic voice whispers in my head. My heart skips a beat. In one swift motion the man strikes out with his closed fist and shattered the window. I let out a blood coiling scream and collapsed to my knees and watched him disappear into the darkness. I was still sitting there, staring at the gaping hole where the window once stoop when the girls ran in sporting hot pink leotards and leggings. “What happened?” screamed Annie. “I… uh.. I fell.” I stuttered. “I’ll clean it up when we get back.” I push the girls into the rusty van and drove across town in a daze. I sit through two hours of cartwheels and handstands and drive home still stuck replaying the nights events over and over through my head. I sweep up the broken glass and cover the hole with an old sheet and head to bed.

Nonsense

     Sometimes when the world is too much to bear, I like to escape. My PERFECT escape is listening to music and maybe dancing (unfortunately I didn't have time to choreograph anything this week). When everything is confusing and I just want to "leave" for a bit, I listen to Radiowave by Leslie Mills. I loved this song when I was a kid and I love it now. The song probably has a deeper meaning, but I haven't figured it out yet so for now it is a song full of senseless phrases and catchy tunes that brings me back to when I was a kid. If you had a bad day, I recommend this song. <3 :) Oh and for those of you who don't know, I run a blog myself with four other writers. Check it out at www.lifeasyoudream.blogspot.com

                                                      <3 illya 

 

untitled book- Chapter 2

 After checking up on the girls with the nannie, I find an empty seat in the courtyard by taylor and take out my bagged lunch.

“morning sunshine!” she says. Shes sporting her usual. Hot pink shorts, yellow tank top, blue converse.

“ugh. Tone it down a notch. Or twenty.” Were complete opposites. Taylor with her  bright colors and cheerfulness, me with my wardrobe of dark reds, browns, and blacks. No body understands why were bestfriends. Not even us. But that’s what makes it worth the ride.

 “how are the kiddos?”

“their fine. Annies losing teeth almost every week. Im running out of tooth fairy money.” I say as I take out my ham and cheese sandwich.

“do you need me to babysit? So you can take a night out on the town? Hit up the clubs and such?” she suggests with a sarcastic smile.  She knows I never go out.

“do you just want to see them? Cause you know you’re welcome anytime. I could use a nap every once and a while.  Feel free to come over and watch sleeping beauty for the thousandth time.”

“could I PLEEEEEAAAAASSSSEEEEE! I miss them so much! Being in Canada all summer and all. Im having munchkin withdrawls.” She bats those thick, black lashes and puts on her best puppy dog face as if im going to say no to letting her be the mommy for a few hours.

“sure. Come over tonight if you wanna. By the way how was Canada?”

“ugh. Boring. Too many trees. Too many people saying ‘Ay!’ after everything. Lets just say ‘Im proud to be an American” she gives a mini two fingered salute.

“ haha well were happy to have ya back! Shit! I have to go check up on my work permit before my wonderful dictator of a boss decides he needs a new barista. See ya tonight?” I hurriedly repack my lunch and start to head inside.

“yep! See ya then! Adios chica!” Tay calls. I give a quick wave good bye over my shoulder and speed walk to the administration building. Just as I cross the thresh hold my phone signals that I have a text with a single ding, but when I go to look at it I find myself face down on the carpet.

“Ophf!” I groan, struggling to get to my knees and inspect the damage.

“are you okay? Here let me help you.” a tall, tan figure kneels next to me. Upon closer examination I realize its Cole Venage.  The last person I would expect to help me pick up my books after a spill. Ugh. We dated for two weeks over the summer. After we broke up  I got tons of hate mail and posts on my facebook. All “anonymous.”  We haven’t spoken in 4 months. And its been eating me up inside. I had to delete him from my phone, my facebook, my twitter, and my tumblr to keep myself from throwing myself at him.

“uh.. thanks..” I murmer, at a loss for words. My jeans are torn on the knee cap and I lunch is completely inedible. Great.

“no problem. So uh… how ya been? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”  He says trying not to maintain eye contact. Gosh this is awkard.

“ive been.. okay. You?” oh my gosh. Please let this end as painlessly as possible. Who the hell am I kidding. This is gonna have a nights worth of tears to pay. I flash my most emotionally detached smile hoping  he would take the hint and leave.

“Ive been better.” We lock eyes. He reaches out and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear.  My eyes close and I try unsuccessfully to hold back a shudder.

“see you later, Char.” He whispers. When my eyes open he’s gone. I suck in a rasping breath and continue down the hall refusing to break down until I reach the bathroom.

 “name?” im brought out of my self pity trance by the annoyed voice of a secretary.

“NAME?” she repeats.

“Charlote Frammer. Two ‘M’s.” I say gathering my things and walking towards the giant dest occupied only by a desk calendar and a computer.

“what do you need?”

“uh I need to check up on my work permit. Is it expired?”

“kay. Give me a second… no your good. It expires in three days. Do you want me to renew it now or do you want to come back in three days?” her eyes barley lift above her glasses before they hurriedly return to the computer screen. I know what she saw. Everyone has the same reaction. Starting at the middle of my left eyebrow, a glossy black slash extends diagonally towards my cheekbone, ending at my jaw line. It’s my mark.  The mark of the “gift”.  Only three people in my world are known to have one like mine. Lucky me.  If you only glanced at it, it would appear to be only a tattoo. But if you looked closer, you would see that’s it is raised as though it were burned into my skin.

“today would be great. Thank you.” I say, dropping my eyes, embarrassed.

“I’ll send you an email when its ready to be picked up.” Gah this is so awkard. I turn and quickly walk out, covering the left side of my face the whole way out.

                                   ~ soapapia

Free and Beautiful

   

 See The World Through My Eyes

Property of K.L. 2011. Do NOT duplicate.

     This year hasn't been so wonderful so far. I've been disappointed by people more than usual and the weight of school is pressing down hard. 

     My favorite thing in the entire world (besides music) is the sky. It is beautiful and free and no one tells it what to do. It's a free spirit. I took this picture a while ago when I felt overwhelmed with life. I look at it and I see something that has its bad days and can be sad and angry, but it always gets through it and, when it does, it has a beauty greater than anyone can imagine.

  

     No matter what life throws at you, push through and radiate beauty!

                                                                     <3 illya

a couple hundred swallows.
a crisp winter night.
a few thousand stars.
and him.
the few perfect things in my impossible life.
     -soapapia

See The World Through My Eyes

     Art is self expression, taking your everyday fears, dreams, happiness, sadness, or anger and putting it on display in a beautiful and unique way for the world to see. It's not just limited to one option either! There are many types of art. Dance, photography, music, writing, drawing/painting, singing, and even interior design and game design. I love to express myself through writing, drawing, photography, and dance (even though I'm not an expert dancer). Who says a blog has to be writing? My series See The World Through My Eyes will show you my art and, hopefully, will help you express yourself in ways you never thought possible.

                                                                     <3 illya 

untitled book- chapter 1

first day of sophmore year. i cant believe im already running late for class! my oversized tote feels like a sandbag weighing me down as i click down the hall in my theigh-heigh boots. without the added 5in from the boots, im about 5'7" with long blonde hair that lands in the middle of my back. ive been told that i seem to have a french influence in the way my face is shaped. i wouldnt know. when my birth mother got knocked up at 15 she decided that she couldnt live with her mistake and decided to give me away. not that i dont love my adoptive family, i do. i just dont understand how someone could give their child away. on top of the resentment i carry for my birth mother, my adoptive mother passed away about two years ago, leaving me with my two kid sisters, a paraket, and my adoptive father. annie, 7, was only 5 when mamma died, while marlee, 4, was only 2. every morning i play mother to the girls as i get them ready for school and drop them off at the nannies house. daddy went off the deep end when we lost mamma. where we found comfort in "thinkin' of the good ol' days", he found comfort in drugs. so i took up the roll of "mommy" so social services wont split us up. but no one except my best friend taylor knows that. and if my life wernt messed up enough, theres always the "gift". my head fills with these nonsense thoughts as i glide down the halls to my first period, math. as i make a left turn i spot the tourture site. one more deep breath and i turn the knob. i walk past the middle aged man while mumbling something about car trouble and take the last avalable seat. "ah.. you must be charlote. welcome!" the man, apperently mr. gibb, says way to cheerfuly for seven a.m. I give hime my best warning stare and watch him shiver uncomfortably. "its charly."

                                                                          -soapapia