aperson

United States of America

Message from Writer

I'm sorry if you don't like my stuff

Published Work

My December Competition 2019

December.

    December means big green christmas trees and leafy wreaths hung.
    December means the smell of pine and piping hot chocolate in the air.
    December means sparkly lights everywhere you look.
    December means frosty cold in the wind nipping your skin.
    December means pure excitement and joy on christmas morning.
    December means crowded bedrooms and awkward smalltalk.
    December means big dinners and small voices.
    December means tripping over small people and getting caught behind big ones.
    December means warm fires and cold snowballs. 
    December means watching cheesy christmas movies with the family.
    December means family reunions and rooms filled with people.
    December means christmas music and pine needle smell.
    December means hanging ornaments and wrapping lights.
    December means sledding down hills and stumbling in the snow.
    December means frozen ears and...

Prom?

    Lily and Rosie. They're twins. What would it be like to have a twin. I asked them once. They said it was like a built in best friend. They are both popular. They both have black hair, olive skin, and green eyes. Rosie recently got asked to prom, but as far as I know, lily doesn't have a date yet. Not for lack of suitors of course, but she's turned everyone down so far. So why am outside the school, waiting for her volleyball practice to end with flowers in my hand. I take out my phone and check my reflection in the camera. My hair is a mess, its light brown color flying all over the place. My pale face is bright red, my blue eyes wide and panicked. Then I see my phone clock turn 3:00. she should be coming out any minute now. God I'm such an idiot. I see the girls start to walk...

Believe

I want to believe. 
Believe when you say you are made for me
Believe when you are holding my hand that this won't end with you breaking me
Believe that when I'm gone you'll remember me
Believe you will set me free
Believe we were meant to be
I want to believe.

Album Review Competition 2019

Just the way you are

    My entry does not fit the rules exactly but in my opinion, this is the most important song in the world. So many memories are connected to this song, just the way you are, by bruno mars, whether they be happy or sad. For me a lot of the memories have to do with riding in the car. Driving under a bridge or around a corner, staring out the window at the endless evergreen forests and wildlife, feeling joy bubble up inside as I hear the familiar tune and the music starting up. Looking over at her in the driver's seat and seeing her eyes light up as well. My song. That's what she had called it back then. It's one of my only real memories of her. "Oh, Her eyes, Her eyes..." that's how the song started. We always sang it at the top of our lungs, caught up in the pure fun of it.
    She had called it my...

Juniper is looking at me

        Juniper is looking at me. Why is Juniper looking at me. No one knows much about Juniper yet. She's only been here for a week, but she moved in a month ago. She has a cat. So far all I've seen in her house is her and an old woman. Maybe her grandma? She doesn't look much like her grandma though. Her grandma is broader than her, with brown eyes and silver streaked hair held up in a tight bun. Juniper is petite, but could probably hold me above her head and throw me. Her red hair is at contrast with her green eyes. Her grandma wears a elegant dresses with layers and ribbons. Juniper wears oversized t-shirts with ripped jeans and tennis shoes. The only thing they have in common is the green jewel hanging from a pendant around their necks. Now before you go thinking I'm creepy, juniper and her grandma just moved in next door and my...

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

The Red String of Fate

    There are many myths and tales similar to the red string of fate. The tale says "Two people connected by the red string of fate are destined lovers regardless of the place, time, or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle, but never break." In my belief some people are constantly looking for matching strings, while others don't pay mind to it or care about it, and some wish to be rid of it completely or live their life in ignorance of it. Sometimes these choices are affected by others and past heartbreaks. I don't understand the people who don't wish for love. Those people who don't long for someone to be there to hold their hand, to make them laugh. I long for love, but I can't seem to feel it. Am I unlovable, unable to love? No one else seems to have problems with loving people. For instance a woman I know has found her string and...

The Pretty Girl

Sometimes I watch daddy's old tapes. In those tapes, I met her. She looks so beautiful. She also looks a bit like me. Only some of them have sound though. I love hearing her voice, even if it's on tape. It's so pretty. Her laugh is magical too. I wish daddy would watch these videos with me. He's in a lot of them with the pretty girl. He smiled more with her than she does with me. In one video daddy was wearing a suit. The pretty girl was wearing a big fluffy white dress. That's my favorite video. It's my favorite because daddy seems really happy. I also really like the pretty girls dress. Maybe one day I will get to wear a pretty dress like the pretty girl. I wonder if one day I can meet the pretty girl. I think I would like her.

The Red String of Fate

    There are many myths and tales similar to the red string of fate. The tale says "Two people connected by the red string of fate are destined lovers regardless of the place, time, or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle, but never break." In my belief some people are constantly looking for matching strings, while others don't pay mind to it or care about it, and some wish to be rid of it completely or live their life in ignorance of it. Sometimes these choices are affected by others and past heartbreaks. I don't understand the people who don't wish for love. Those people who don't long for someone to be there to hold their hand, to make them laugh. I long for love, but I can't seem to feel it. Am I unlovable, unable to love? No one else seems to have problems with loving people. For instance a woman I know has found her string and fallen in...

Favorite child

When most parents are asked who their favorite child is, they usually say they love their children equally. My parents wouldn't say that though. They would say jemma. Perfect jemma, special jemma. I'm stupid amaya, dumb amaya. For birthdays jemma gets computers and toys. I get socks. Sissy is the best person ever. She always acts good to. It's so annoying. Mom and dad are always telling me to be like her. She's 14 and already has a life plan. I am 12 and just want to be a kid. So when my parents are asked their favorite child, they say jemma. I'm just the kid in the backround. 

Human Connections Essay Competition 2019

The Red String of Fate

There are many myths and tales similar to the red string of fate. The tale says "Two people connected by the red string of fate are destined lovers regardless of the place, time, or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle, but never break." In my belief some people are constantly looking for matching strings, while others don't pay mind to it, and some wish to be rid of it completely. A woman I know has found her string and fallen in love, I hope that someday I will find my string, but for now I watch in envy of the happiness of others with their strings connected. Weddings are the hardest, watching people so in love that they are prepared to commit their life to a single person until death. A wedding I've gone to recently was a magical time filled with joy and hurt at the same time. I remember flashes of smiles and joy and love. I remember...

Just me

Me. It's an interesting thing. Very strange though. I wish I could act like myself more often. But then people won't like me. and I'll be alone. Again. I don't want to be alone so I have to pretend. I have to act like I am interested in my friends newest boyfriend. I have to act like I love dancing till I feel like I'm going to puke. And at home I have to act like I'm the model student and do nothing but study. That's all I do. Eat, Sleep, Act. For once I just want to be me. Just for a day. No consequences. No Judging. Just me, being myself. Just me.

A short poem

Who am I meant to be
What is my destiny
Why does it feel like the whole world is against me
And you, make it look so easy
But I can see behind those eyes and that smile
That your faking
Your aching
Like me

Barbies can't cry

A sharp slap on the face. Harsh and condensing words that I've learned to drown out. Embarrassment, ugly, useless. That's what I am to her. That's what I am to my family. It doesn't matter though. Telling someone or complaining will only make matters worse. Once when I was five, the teacher asked me about the bruises on my arm and I told them mommy gave them to me for embarrassing her. After school she talked to mommy late, and the day after we packed our bags and left. I'm like a doll to her. According to her I'm going to graduate highschool and go into modeling. Become a model and marry a rich man. My mother is like plastic, Hard but shiny. She wants me to be plastic to. A plastic barbie. A plastic perfect girl who never complains and never cries. Barbies can't cry or they'll ruin their pretty faces. I can't cry. 

Becoming me again

Its time. I should stop obsessing over him. I need to rebuild. I've been all broken down for a month now, i need to get over him. Rebuilding will take some time. I need to get him out of my head and get my life back on track. Maybe I could try to get together and do something fun with Sarah. I haven't seen her in a while. I shoot her a text, and as I wait for a response, I start picking up my house. I've really let myself go to the dogs. After taking out the trash I hear a ding from my phone. Sarah says we should meet up for a movie, that she missed me. I'm taking charge and rebuilding my life, one piece at a time. I am getting over it. I am becoming me again.

loss

My mother. She was everything to me. It was me and her. I loved her and she loved me. Then she got sick. We moved in with Aunt Dana. I never realized how sick mom was until I was 7. I was going over to a friends house. Aunt dana asked me if I was going to say goodbye to my mother. I told her it didn't matter, I would see my mom again. She died overnight. I don't remember much from the next days. I was given a day off of school and then i went back and had to pretend everything was fine. It wasn't fine. I'm thirteen now. I still miss her. I still love her. I just wish I could go back and say goodbye.

Heartbreak again

A bar. How did I end up here, I really can't remember. Everything has been a haze since may. Its july now. I should be over her. the bartender pours me another drink. Why do I still love her. Good lord why. She was everything for a year, probably the happiest year of my life. And then she left. And now I'm here in a bar trying to drown out the pain. And then I see her. She looks great. How is she fine when I am still suffering. How has she moved on when I can't get her out of my head. Then I see him come in. He pulls her close and kisses her, and it's like my heart breaking again.

Anywhere but here

This is very uncomfortable. Why am I even here? Jeremy knows I hate parties, but he invited me anyway, and how can i say no to him. He probably doesn't even realize that I have a massive crush on him. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. He's the life of the party while I sit in the corner holding a plastic cup. He's probably flirting with some girl. All the girls here in their pretty dresses look better than me in a T-shirt and jeans. You can barely see anything the lights are so low, and the music makes it impossible to hear. I can't even see jeremy anymore. I don't know anyone here, and if I do, I don't like them. I would rather be anywhere but here. Why am I even here again?

What if...

Sometimes I wonder what my future will be. A lot of people want the same job as their parents. I don't. I don't want to be in and out of jail, my face splashed on newspaper covers titled "Criminal responsible for 9 deaths in a mob fight arrested." I want to be someone who makes the world a better place. But what if that's not what I'm meant to do.What if I end up like dad, In and out of jail, never around for my family. Or mom a lady who goes out, gets drunk, and then says she'll change but she never does. What if my kids hate me like I hate my mother. What if my kids feel the loneliness that i felt from missing a father. What if I can't be good. What if it's in my DNA. What if I was made to be bad.

Human

When I go places people stare. It's not the admiring type of stare, like I'm a celebrity. It's the kind of stare that makes your skin crawl. The kind of stare that makes people pray their future children don't end up looking like me. The kind of stare that makes you want to shrink and shrink until you are small enough that people can't see you. And then I met her. Her stare was different. There was something about her that set me at ease with her. Her smile maybe, that was true without any traces of pity. Or her eyes that lit me up from the inside with warmth. Maybe it was her embrace, like a cloud wrapping around me washing my worries away. No. It is the fact that she thinks of me as what I am. A human.

Invisible

I walk through crowded halls head down back slouched. My first class, chemistry was with amy. As I walked in I realized amy was already in the class. That was a first. She usually is late due to hanging out with her boyfriend in his class. She's surrounded by a bunch of other girls and when I walk closer, I see tears streaming down her face. Her boyfriend broke up with her. I want to help and comfort her but what can I do? I'm practicaly invisible.

Memory

Beep Beep Beep. I open my eyes to white walls and a white ceiling with bright fluorescent lights. There is a faint beeping in my ears, I try to look around and see the source of the beeping but I can't move. I try to take in the most of my surrounding as I wait for my body to start responding. Then the beeping starts picking up until it's one straight buzz. I startle awake, The odd dream still ringing in my head, but I know it wasn't a dream. It was a memory.

One-Liner

The world

Life and death and all the strength, weakness, beauty, ugliness, hate, and love in between.

Love

What is love? I've always wondered. Love has always seemed so strange. To me love seems like obsession, addiction, and pain, but others describe it as bliss. I've felt attraction, of course, maybe sometimes interest, but never love. Some people seem more affected by love than others. Some people can walk away from a breakup, nothing more than a small heartache. Others I'm told feel indescribable pain. I do love people. I love my mother and my father, but thats different I guess. But For now all I can do is watch and wait to see if love will find me.