At the Top

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I take a deep breath and push the air out, watching how my lips curl into a delicate ‘O’. I should have warn deep red lipstick, it’s more intimidating. Dad told me not to though. Apparently I need to ease the board into my leadership.

I shake my head and pull my fingers across my skin, from collar bone to collar bone before rolling my eyes and turning away from the mirror. Staring into my own eyes in the extravagant bathroom mirror doesn’t offer the courage I had been expecting.

I lean against the counter and mutter, “Screw Hollywood,” pushing two of my fingers up my nose and onto my forehead. My eyes close and I rub the bridge of my nose, pulling in deep, burning breaths. My phone dings and I flinch before grabbing it from the countertop and swiping it open. Continue reading

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Morning Flight

22310274_10210508451654338_8099977218505346740_n Lynn turns off the alarm clock and turns to stare out the window. The sky has a blanket of clouds keeping the sun at bay. Her hair fans out behind her, spread across the duvet. The dreams linger in the corner of her mind and she rubs her eyes in an attempt to erase them. She runs the tip of her fingers across her lips, remembering the brush of his against hers. Groaning, she rolls over, pulling a pillow over her head.

“Alright,” Lynn huffs, climbing out of bed. She pulls at the blinds and rests her forehead against the glass. A group of birds take flight from the telephone wires they were perched on.  Continue reading

Lattes and Murders

21557532_10210178347961952_1736647627170701057_nThe abrupt scream of the steaming wand makes me jump and spin towards the door. Staring at the empty coffee shop in front of me, I curl my hands into fists, annoyed at my own anxiety.

“Sorry man,” the barista says.

I turn, offering him a half hearted smile. “Don’t worry about it. Just a bit jumpy, I guess.”

The barista, a tall man with tattoos covering both arms, shrugs. “Makes sense. What, with all these murders. Did you hear about the last one?”

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Dark Colors

21462786_10210178347641944_6627037810111179313_nMost vividly, I remember the rain. My hair had been stuck to my forehead and I was shivering from the cold. Running through the trees had winded me and I was struggling to see through the fog and rain. The house was large, hiding in plain sight.

I was scared, lost, and alone. I was also only six years old.

Now, twenty years later, the memories have become distant at best and fictional at worst. Once, I made the mistake of confiding in my girlfriend at the time, telling her all I remember about that night twenty years ago. I told her how the memory of the night feels physical to me, but the evidence of it was never found.  Continue reading

Young Ignorance and Adventure

21078830_10210094010933579_3042036252880962403_nMy fingers were cold and stiff, covered in mud and growing numb to the increasing wind. I used a stick to dig, uncovering the long metal pieces. Despite it still being early in the day, the sky was losing light quickly. I whipped around at the sound of crashing. A tree not far away had broken at the base and fallen.

A small hurricane was underway. I, being young, stupid, and obsessed with crazy adventures, had no plans on seeking refuge indoors. The creek beside my house was filled with trees, many of which were dead and threatening to fall under the force of strong wind. If I truly valued my safety, I would have already been inside, warming up and sitting on the couch with my sister. However, there was an old sewing machine buried in the bank of the creek and this discovery would lead to riches my small brain had never known. (In reality, I would uncover an old Bartlett Sewing Machine that would be broken in many places and no more valuable than a rusted piece of metal.) Continue reading

Neighbors

19731899_10209655775657971_5749092506553919200_nHanna smiles, standing with one arm tucked under the other. She sips from her large coffee mug, smacking her lips at the slight bitter taste. The sun climbs up in the sky, beaming down on their small town. The people on the street outside all stay bundled in large jackets, bracing themselves against the cold wind.

A young mom pulls her front door shut behind her, herding two small children to the car. Hanna raises her hand, waiving at the woman through the window. She’s greeted by a wide smile and an enthusiastic wave.

Hanna watches the car drive away, her throat suddenly feeling tight. The house looks relaxed, as if it were yawning after it’s crazy family leaves for the day. Hanna looks down the street to see an older boy riding his bike to school, fighting the morning wind. Hanna sighs and takes another long sip from her coffee mug.

A cat rubs against Hanna’s leg and she bends down to pet the animal’s soft fur. “Good morning, Georgie,” she greets. “Did you sleep last night?”

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A Game

15590037_10211707848635793_58361140296266066_n“Let’s play a game.”

“That sounds eerie.”

“No, it’ll be a fun game.”

“Alright, how does it go?”

“I spend every moment of my day loving who you are, and all you have to do is let me.”

“That’s not a game.”

“You just have to be yourself. Then you win the game.” Continue reading

You are worth it.

18195141_10209428602138775_8216928352892482649_nYou make a difference every day.

Every smile.

Every ‘are you okay’?

Every piece of art.

It makes a difference.

And don’t let anyone tell you different. Who you are is a hero to someone. You lead your story, and you can control that story. Who you are is special, strong, creative and great. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Family members don’t know you better than you know you. Lies don’t get to tell you your worth. Your friends don’t get to decide your worth for you and neither do strangers on the subway. Continue reading

Lights

fcb7651cef295f22606766ced9ab6784It was almost 10:30. I’d been driving for hours, 13 hours go be exact, when the sky started to sparkle. One after another sparks of color shot into the sky and exploded in a puff of glittering light. I was enamored.

I watched the fireworks, eyes drifting from the road. They were so… random. It was the beginning of march, no date the world was celebrating. No reason to use such an extravagant form of celebration.

I watched them in the distance sparkle, shout, and explode. I had to reach them soon, right? I was driving towards them. They had to come from somewhere.

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Dear Future

14884702_10207637245595981_384251857058761294_o“Look ahead” they say. “It only will get better.”

They warn you about being stuck in your past, encourage you to move on to the future.

Well, You’re my future.

But you have to know about my past.  Finding yourself, being true to who you are and who you want, is the most difficult thing you’ll ever do.

At least that’s the case in my story.

I thought it would be great.  Continue reading