I wrote this at like, 2 this morning. So I know it's not the best. but I really liked the way it turned out.
A face in the mirror that is not your own. White cinder block walls. Empty water bottles and pieces of paper strewn across the floor. A bottle of pain medication sitting on the shelf above the sink.
The only reminder that you’re still human. Or is it?
A voice pounds on the door of your sanctuary. “Five minutes! We are a go in less than five, you hear?”
Headphones slide over skin and hair until they find a place to sit. Music blasts into your ears- louder than last night. Eyes stare into vacant eyes on the other side of the glass. Alien meets alien, here, alone, in the cinderblock room.
Words flash before your closed eyes. Rifling through the pages littering the floor, the correct one is plucked from the wreckage and read aloud.
‘Am I ever going to enough?’
Your own alien eyes watch you; tempt you. When it becomes too much, your fist connects with the mirror. Shatters the figure inside it.
Blood drips from your knuckles. Again a voice pulls you back, back to the cinder block room. “It’s time.”
The door of the cell opens, leading out to the gallows. No one speaks. Not to you, the alien. The alien who has it all.
Chaos gets louder. Tension slice through the air; your air. It’s like this every night. You let your eyes drift shut and operate by instinct. The breeze against your skin gets warmer as the rush of people comes closer. Hands reach out into the darkness and strap you into your chariot.
Rigging and hydraulics creak as the box rises upward. Lights flash. Music screams in your ear. The chaos is defining itself. Defining you.
People are chanting. Chanting the names of the alien who lives in a white, cinder block room. Chanting your name.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Is this really the best we can be?
Alright- prepare yourself. This could get ugly. Maybe I can preface this with saying I do not mean to offend or disgust anyone. I am way more offended and disgusted by myself then I think I could ever convince you to be. You know what? it might just be time to be offended with ourselves- as long as we offend ourselves and not each other. deal? good.
I went to HeavenFest for the first time this past weekend. And don't get me wrong, it was amazing in its own way- God was there and waiting for people to turn to Him. I'm just not sure we were ready to be there. I know this is an 'outreach' concert, so there had to have been lots of unsaved people there. It might have been half 'non- Christian,' it might have been 2/3rds, it might have been 1/8th. I don't know. And that was what was so sick. I was there, walking around, having a good time, when it hit me. If you were just some kid off the street, and you didn't hear the lyrics to the songs, you would have NO. IDEA. that was a 'Christian' concert. I saw girls dressed in nothing but bikini tops and mini skirts worshiping, raising their hands. I saw guys in 'Jesus Saves' T-shirts, cussing a blue streak.
What is wrong with us? are we seriously NO DIFFERENT from the rest of the world? I'm talking to myself more than anyone else here, but still! I wear clothes I see other girls wearing and think to myself 'wow do i look that in that shirt?' I look for the most attractive clothes I can find while still not breaking any rules. I gush over guys I have no right to be gushing over. (Hello? these people are movie stars with wives that would be totally creeped out I'm sure.) I'm just as bad as 'they' are. We're called to something so much better. We have a hope they can't imagine. We have a reason to be different, a reason to be somebody they can't become without grace. what are we doing, taking that for granted and letting ourselves slide into their world. We've become antinomians!
(an·ti·no·mi·an[an-ti-noh-mee-uh
n]
I went to HeavenFest for the first time this past weekend. And don't get me wrong, it was amazing in its own way- God was there and waiting for people to turn to Him. I'm just not sure we were ready to be there. I know this is an 'outreach' concert, so there had to have been lots of unsaved people there. It might have been half 'non- Christian,' it might have been 2/3rds, it might have been 1/8th. I don't know. And that was what was so sick. I was there, walking around, having a good time, when it hit me. If you were just some kid off the street, and you didn't hear the lyrics to the songs, you would have NO. IDEA. that was a 'Christian' concert. I saw girls dressed in nothing but bikini tops and mini skirts worshiping, raising their hands. I saw guys in 'Jesus Saves' T-shirts, cussing a blue streak.
What is wrong with us? are we seriously NO DIFFERENT from the rest of the world? I'm talking to myself more than anyone else here, but still! I wear clothes I see other girls wearing and think to myself 'wow do i look that in that shirt?' I look for the most attractive clothes I can find while still not breaking any rules. I gush over guys I have no right to be gushing over. (Hello? these people are movie stars with wives that would be totally creeped out I'm sure.) I'm just as bad as 'they' are. We're called to something so much better. We have a hope they can't imagine. We have a reason to be different, a reason to be somebody they can't become without grace. what are we doing, taking that for granted and letting ourselves slide into their world. We've become antinomians!
(an·ti·no·mi·an[an-ti-noh-mee-uh
n] –noun
a person who maintains that Christians are freed from the moral law by virtue of grace as set forth in the gospel.) Is Christianity nothing more than fire insurance?
We owe Him so much more. and yet all we do is walk the line, doing everything they do, just remaining inside our little Christian square of moral right and wrong. We're just like them, we just hide it. and frankly, that might just be worse. I've had serious issues with this in the past. Well, I still do now. but now I'm offended and disgusted. which for once, is a step in the right direction.
To Infinity and Beyond!
We owe Him so much more. and yet all we do is walk the line, doing everything they do, just remaining inside our little Christian square of moral right and wrong. We're just like them, we just hide it. and frankly, that might just be worse. I've had serious issues with this in the past. Well, I still do now. but now I'm offended and disgusted. which for once, is a step in the right direction.
To Infinity and Beyond!
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Random Facts.
This post is because
a. my last post was deep and i needed something funny now,
b. I have so much to say there's no way i can say it all, and
c. I happen to love random facts about people.
so here is 28 and 1/2 random facts about me.
1. I love cinnamon gum.
2. I love to chew gum in the shower. (that's not weird, is it?)
3. I keep journals. Every day. and I name them all. I have Allie, JJ, Romeo, Mercedes, and Julietta.(she's french.)
4. I have had shingles. That's an old people's disease and I got it at 6. It was AWFUL.
5. I have all of my children named already. (maybe that's a little odd.)
6. This may come as a shocker- I have read the first book in the Hunger Games and.... I wasn't impressed.
7. I have recurring dreams almost every night.
8. I have a pen name I use whenever I write.
9. My favorite numbers are 303 and 16.
10. My first real pet was a bunny named Sandy that someone in my family poisoned (on accident) while she was still a baby.
11. People think I look like a Rose or a Brooke- I've even had people call me that by mistake.
12. I don't think I'll ever learn to speak Spanish.
13. I do, in fact, have a favorite sibling.
14. I have broken my left arm twice and my right arm once and my 6th rib up on my left side once.
15. my favorite thing to do when I was little was play a game on the trampoline with Christian where we found these green packets with buttons on them that gave you whatever you wanted. Even though we had everything we lived in a cave and killed goblins and witches and monsters for food and clothing.
16. It takes me a really long time to read military time. like way longer than it should.
17. I used to watch The Sound of Music every day when I was 3, 4 and 5. I can still sing every song and quote every line.
18. I like to think I'm fairly observant. People used to think I could read minds because of it.
19. My first camera was red and had the Coca-Cola polar bear on it.
20. I have a lot of extremely irrational fears, like I'm afraid my imagination is too good for its own good and Heaven won't be as incredible as I've dreamed it to be, even though I know it's better than I can imagine. Sometimes I wonder though, because my imagination works overtime. All the time. when I'm thinking clearly I know better.
21. I love people- like LOVE people, but I hate large crowds.
22. I spell most words the old way or the British way if I can. Colour, Saviour, theatre....
23. I have been an insomniac my whole life. And I get panic attacks in the middle of the night some times when I've been stressed out.
24. I hardly ever paint my nails anything but flat colours... I dont like shiny nail polish. It either has to be flat or downright sparkly.
25. My dream car is a dark red 2011 Dodge Challenger with two black racing stripes.
26. I hate sunflowers.
27. I can't eat meat on the bone without cringing. And I can't eat cherries unless they have stems. no idea why.
28. I think it's important to know a little bit about everything so you can have an intelligent conversation with everyone- looking dumb in front of people is my pet peeve.
29. I am in love with
There. 28 and a half facts about me. :)
To Infinity and Beyond!
a. my last post was deep and i needed something funny now,
b. I have so much to say there's no way i can say it all, and
c. I happen to love random facts about people.
so here is 28 and 1/2 random facts about me.
1. I love cinnamon gum.
2. I love to chew gum in the shower. (that's not weird, is it?)
3. I keep journals. Every day. and I name them all. I have Allie, JJ, Romeo, Mercedes, and Julietta.(she's french.)
4. I have had shingles. That's an old people's disease and I got it at 6. It was AWFUL.
5. I have all of my children named already. (maybe that's a little odd.)
6. This may come as a shocker- I have read the first book in the Hunger Games and.... I wasn't impressed.
7. I have recurring dreams almost every night.
8. I have a pen name I use whenever I write.
9. My favorite numbers are 303 and 16.
10. My first real pet was a bunny named Sandy that someone in my family poisoned (on accident) while she was still a baby.
11. People think I look like a Rose or a Brooke- I've even had people call me that by mistake.
12. I don't think I'll ever learn to speak Spanish.
13. I do, in fact, have a favorite sibling.
14. I have broken my left arm twice and my right arm once and my 6th rib up on my left side once.
15. my favorite thing to do when I was little was play a game on the trampoline with Christian where we found these green packets with buttons on them that gave you whatever you wanted. Even though we had everything we lived in a cave and killed goblins and witches and monsters for food and clothing.
16. It takes me a really long time to read military time. like way longer than it should.
17. I used to watch The Sound of Music every day when I was 3, 4 and 5. I can still sing every song and quote every line.
18. I like to think I'm fairly observant. People used to think I could read minds because of it.
19. My first camera was red and had the Coca-Cola polar bear on it.
20. I have a lot of extremely irrational fears, like I'm afraid my imagination is too good for its own good and Heaven won't be as incredible as I've dreamed it to be, even though I know it's better than I can imagine. Sometimes I wonder though, because my imagination works overtime. All the time. when I'm thinking clearly I know better.
21. I love people- like LOVE people, but I hate large crowds.
22. I spell most words the old way or the British way if I can. Colour, Saviour, theatre....
23. I have been an insomniac my whole life. And I get panic attacks in the middle of the night some times when I've been stressed out.
24. I hardly ever paint my nails anything but flat colours... I dont like shiny nail polish. It either has to be flat or downright sparkly.
25. My dream car is a dark red 2011 Dodge Challenger with two black racing stripes.
26. I hate sunflowers.
27. I can't eat meat on the bone without cringing. And I can't eat cherries unless they have stems. no idea why.
28. I think it's important to know a little bit about everything so you can have an intelligent conversation with everyone- looking dumb in front of people is my pet peeve.
29. I am in love with
There. 28 and a half facts about me. :)
To Infinity and Beyond!
Sunday, June 26, 2011
why you and i aren't enough.
It's been a rough week. I've gone from having exactly no time to think about anything to having four hours solid to do almost nothing but think. That's a dangerous combination for someone as... unstable as i am :P I spent a lot of my four hours reminiscing about the past year. It's half over. 2011. Good grief. 2011 has had its rough spots. The last half of February and almost all of March was a mess. Okay, basically all of this year has been a mess. But maybe that's not such a bad thing.
Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest on me." When I think I'm strong, I'm pretty much worthless. Because I think I've got it all together. (Which I don't.) and that I don't need help. (Which I do.)
Thanks to the wonderful Steele Croswhite, I have had song lyrics stuck in my head for the past two days.
That happen to be really applicable right now.
"Break my heart,
take my dreams
they're only in the way
of whats better
than I ask,
or imagine."
Broken heart. stolen dreams. sounds awful, right? I see that and think..... Ew. I know how a little of that feels and it's awful. But there's a good side to that, too. (weird, I know right.) God works best in our brokenness. And this is something He's been trying to teach me for forever.
"Here I am,
at your feet,
in my brokenness complete."
"The offered lives,
of the weakest ones are
known to change the world."
He has to be everything you're built on, or you're going to have a rough go of it. If you built your life on someone else, something else, or a combination of the two, you're going to have to start over from the beginning. No other human being can satisfy your need to be loved and needed. Your identity has to be in nothing but the fact that you belong to Someone Else, the most important Someone. I can't be anything 'till He is my everything. I've seen people who put their identity in something else- a boyfriend they'll never feel completely loved by. A figure they have to be anorexic to keep. A beauty that's only skin deep. A personality trait that changes with time. A skill they let take over their entire existence. And it's never, ever, ever enough. You can't be follower of Christ if you don't let him be more important than anyone else. Which would you rather lose for a week- your Bible or your boyfriend?
think about it.
Peace out homeslice! To infinity and beyond!
KateLyn
Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest on me." When I think I'm strong, I'm pretty much worthless. Because I think I've got it all together. (Which I don't.) and that I don't need help. (Which I do.)
Thanks to the wonderful Steele Croswhite, I have had song lyrics stuck in my head for the past two days.
That happen to be really applicable right now.
"Break my heart,
take my dreams
they're only in the way
of whats better
than I ask,
or imagine."
Broken heart. stolen dreams. sounds awful, right? I see that and think..... Ew. I know how a little of that feels and it's awful. But there's a good side to that, too. (weird, I know right.) God works best in our brokenness. And this is something He's been trying to teach me for forever.
"Here I am,
at your feet,
in my brokenness complete."
"The offered lives,
of the weakest ones are
known to change the world."
He has to be everything you're built on, or you're going to have a rough go of it. If you built your life on someone else, something else, or a combination of the two, you're going to have to start over from the beginning. No other human being can satisfy your need to be loved and needed. Your identity has to be in nothing but the fact that you belong to Someone Else, the most important Someone. I can't be anything 'till He is my everything. I've seen people who put their identity in something else- a boyfriend they'll never feel completely loved by. A figure they have to be anorexic to keep. A beauty that's only skin deep. A personality trait that changes with time. A skill they let take over their entire existence. And it's never, ever, ever enough. You can't be follower of Christ if you don't let him be more important than anyone else. Which would you rather lose for a week- your Bible or your boyfriend?
think about it.
Peace out homeslice! To infinity and beyond!
KateLyn
Monday, June 20, 2011
KJ :)
Wow it's been a really long time since I had the chance to blog. I've been caught up in the craziness! sometime in the next few days I'll blog about more interesting stuff but for now I'm going to celebrate an anniversary :) Today is two months working on my latest writing project. two whole months of Loni and Kanye and Keni and Allie and everybody. Wow :) I'm pretty proud. so, to celebrate, I'm going to post......... something that has nothing to do with them ;) This is a character sketch of KJ Foster, who is in no way related to that project. but KJ... KJ's my baby. He was my first REAL character I created. and he's been my hero ever since :P I adore this boy.
Kristopher Jalen Foster.
November 16th, 1994. 5 foot eleven, 135 lbs. Half African- American, half Hispanic. Really skinny except for in the shoulders and arms. Buzzed straight black hair. black eyes. Wears nothing but jeans, solid colored dark t-shirts, beat up silver and black Nike Airs, and a red flat brimmed New Jersey Nets hat. Has a large (8x10inch)tattoo on the back of his right shoulder of a flaming cross. Has the words 'Forever Victorious' on his left bicep and the words 'love' and 'hate' on his knuckles. The insides of both wrists are inscribed with the word 'TenEleven' and he has the '1011' symbol on his right hip bone. has his left ear double pierced and his right single pierced. wears his deceased dad DeShawn's sterling silver watch all the time. Stubborn, a little arrogant. Unforgiving. knows how to have fun but rarely does. deals with pressure well. has a really quick and violent temper. moves and thinks quickly. really loves what is left of his family (his older brother, Tuck) and anyone he lets get close to him. really worldly wise. smart, but not book smart. (he went to school through his freshman year.) really shy unless put in tough situation or in a leadership role. good leader. very protective. has had a rough childhood; parents killed when he was 3 or 4, in and out of foster care until he and his brother ran away from an abusive home when he was 14. his brother, now 18, has legal guardianship. lives in an abandoned hotel. is part of the gang TenEleven that he leads alongside his brother. is a dance choreographer, but never lets anyone dance to his stuff. dances just a little himself. Independent to a fault and fiercely loyal.
Yeah. that's him :)
Kristopher Jalen Foster.
November 16th, 1994. 5 foot eleven, 135 lbs. Half African- American, half Hispanic. Really skinny except for in the shoulders and arms. Buzzed straight black hair. black eyes. Wears nothing but jeans, solid colored dark t-shirts, beat up silver and black Nike Airs, and a red flat brimmed New Jersey Nets hat. Has a large (8x10inch)tattoo on the back of his right shoulder of a flaming cross. Has the words 'Forever Victorious' on his left bicep and the words 'love' and 'hate' on his knuckles. The insides of both wrists are inscribed with the word 'TenEleven' and he has the '1011' symbol on his right hip bone. has his left ear double pierced and his right single pierced. wears his deceased dad DeShawn's sterling silver watch all the time. Stubborn, a little arrogant. Unforgiving. knows how to have fun but rarely does. deals with pressure well. has a really quick and violent temper. moves and thinks quickly. really loves what is left of his family (his older brother, Tuck) and anyone he lets get close to him. really worldly wise. smart, but not book smart. (he went to school through his freshman year.) really shy unless put in tough situation or in a leadership role. good leader. very protective. has had a rough childhood; parents killed when he was 3 or 4, in and out of foster care until he and his brother ran away from an abusive home when he was 14. his brother, now 18, has legal guardianship. lives in an abandoned hotel. is part of the gang TenEleven that he leads alongside his brother. is a dance choreographer, but never lets anyone dance to his stuff. dances just a little himself. Independent to a fault and fiercely loyal.
Yeah. that's him :)
Sunday, June 5, 2011
No Longer Alone
Come like you promised you would. You promised me you would come back- you promised that you'd always love me. I trusted you, believed you. So why didn't you come? Why didn't you keep your promise? You left me to die out there. Alone. Without you. you swore you'd never leave me, but where are you now? Gone. Forever. You'll never come back. you never really loved me, did you? When they came for you, you didn't fight. You didn't even seem to care. You left me, Tyler. Without a second thought. Maybe that's how you wanted it to end. Maybe this is how you planned it. You left me, Tyler! Don't you understand? The only part of you i have left is my warped memory of who you used to be. I can hear your voice in my head, fighting with me. You were the only thing i had gotten right, and now all you are is a voice- accusing and cutting and loving all at one. Sometimes I believe it's really you talking to me, just like old times. But you're not my Tyler. Not anymore. My Tyler is dead. Gone. You left me for good. For my sake. You had to- I had to let you. I just wish you hadn't left like that, left in weakness. I don't remember you like that, I don't want to. I remember you strong and opinionated.Your shouting voice in my head begs me to join you. Some days it gets so strong I might just give in to it. For you. You were my only love; maybe it would be better if i came back to you. Life without you is cold and dark. Bitter. I'm bitter. Why did you get taken, my Tyler? What did you do to deserve that? Whoever took you away, took my baby away, forced you to break a promise. A promise made to me- a promise worth forever. A forever worth anything and everything else. Your voice convinces me that it has to be time. I have to be with you. I cannot live alone. Your voice calls to me, begging me to give in to you. I willingly comply. It is overdue- you need me. I am yours forever. I want to surrender for good.
Okay so i have to give most credit to my wonderful Jinx. you write like this and it turns out beautifully, so i thought I might as well give it a try. and it does have some of a 'Whispers' feel. I just really liked the way the words hit me and what they evoked on their own. :)
Okay so i have to give most credit to my wonderful Jinx. you write like this and it turns out beautifully, so i thought I might as well give it a try. and it does have some of a 'Whispers' feel. I just really liked the way the words hit me and what they evoked on their own. :)
Friday, June 3, 2011
more book! :)
I scowled across the water, watching the waves get closer to the black notebook by my side. Images kept surfacing in my mind’s eye- images I had hoped to have forgotten by now. Last night was particularly awful- twice Allie had to bring me back. Some nights I won’t wake up at all; not with light, sound, water, or force. Those nights I end up in the ER so they can wake me up before I injure myself or someone else. They used to think I was having seizures, but they aren’t. I’m just too far gone into the horrible fantasy of my own creation to come back on my own.
Nights like last night always give me headaches. It makes sitting in the sun almost unbearable, robbing me of my favorite activity. Today, though, the clouds had rolled over the sun so I found myself outside anyways, sitting in the shadows, feeling the cool breeze. It was a relief to feel chilled after spending so many hours, feverish and uncomfortable.
Allie had offered to come and sit with me, but I didn’t want her company today. I really didn’t want anyone’s company. Especially not my family’s. I feel so embarrassed around them after my rough nights, knowing I kept them up most of the night. It’s like I’m some freak of nature.
The water splashed my feet and I picked up my notebook. I had to move farther up the beach or I was going to get wet. Glancing up at the still cloudy sky, I realized I might get wet either way. Gray clouds built over the open water, rapidly growing in my direction.
Great. I thought to myself. Since I knew I was alone, I let myself grumble out loud, placing my fingers over my throat to feel the rumble in my vocal cords. Just what I wanted. A rain storm. Classic.
I stood up and shook my fist at the dark sky, not stopping to consider the futility of my actions. Grumbling again as I stomped across the sand to my family’s gazebo, rain drops started to pound on my shoulders and head. I shook my head this time. My mood was bad enough I didn’t care if I got soaked. I wasn’t going to quit my sarcastic saunter even if it started pouring.
My feet started sticking in the muddy sand, disturbing my swagger. I fought to keep a steady rhythm in my steps.
Darn you, you dirty, rotten, good for nothing rain. We have enough water here already, thank you very much. You’re re-ruining my already ruined day, soaking my notebook and making me muddy. Is there anything else you’d like to torture me with?
The self-satisfied smirk from my rant was wiped off my face as I felt the electricity in the air change. I had about two seconds until the lightening struck- and it was going to be close by judging by the smell. I was forced to stop progress to shelter and duck. Instinct took over attitude.
About a mile behind me I felt a strike that had to have hit something. I glanced behind me, wiping the rain out of my eyes to see more clearly the black mark on the hillside.
Fine. You win. I stood and started trotting towards the lattice shack. The thunder following the flash of light concussed the entire beach, making me stumble. I reached out to catch myself with my left hand; the hand holding my notebook. I dropped it and watched it quickly get sucked into the sand and dirt. An angry tear fell onto the cover as I gritted my teeth until they hurt.
Another electric charge filled the air as I peeled my soggy book out of the hole. Placing it securely under my arm, I took off towards my safe house.
I was within thirty feet as the sky lit up and a smell like battery acid filled the air. I crouched, ready to run as soon as the thunder passed over. It took close to fifteen seconds for the ground to quit moving.
As I ran the last rocky beach way to the gazebo, I saw a colorful umbrella emerge out the back door of my house. Once under cover, I watched the figure, trying to guess who it was.
Mom? No, it was moving too fast for her. It was too tall for Allie or Kyah, and way too tall for Kanye. It was too light colored to be Uncle Paul. Maybe it was Rayna or Kalen, even thought it looked like a boy from the length of its stride.
I turned my back as they started down the steps to the beach. I was determined not to care who it was or what they wanted. Reminding myself of my awful mood, I resolved not to talk to anyone and sat in a lounge chair with a frown.
A shiver chased itself down my spine and I looked for something-anything- to dry off myself and my book.
The damp, metal tip of an umbrella poked the back of my neck, forcing me to turn around and face my intruder.
It was Keni. Not at all who I was expecting.
“Looking for something?” He signed, stuttering with his hands. The only sign language he knew was what I had taught him years ago, and he had never paid very well attention.
He held a towel out to me and I took it.
“Thank you?” He signed, as a question.
I sneered. “Thanks.” I could see his amusement at my anger, which just made me more angry. I turned to give him a glare, but before I could he gestured to my book, wanting to talk to me. I gave it to him.
“Thanks.” He wrote. “It’s a lot easier to use this then to try and sign all the time.”
I nodded without a word, acknowledging him, but nothing more.
You’re angry, Lani. Remember?
“Talk to me, Lani, please.” Once again I got poked to let me know that he wanted a response from me.
“I’m in a bad mood.” I sighed as I gave him the book, just so he would know how unhappy I truly was.
“I know. I talked to Allie and Paul inside. They told me about last night.”
“Lovely.” Allie was going to get a talking to later for having such a big mouth.
“No. Not lovely.” He purposely ignored my sarcasm. “I’m sorry.” His backpack sat next to him, but I had been so focused on being angry I hadn’t noticed it before.
“It’s fine.” During my short response, he lifted the bag on to his lap. He set my book on the table in between us and started pulling things out of his backpack.
I looked out to the ocean, boiling with heavy raindrops. I had to feign disgust and boredom around Keni, so I buried my curiosity and stared into the blue-gray distance.
This time I got flicked in the ear rather then poked. I turned my head, my brow furrowed and my tongue sticking out. He laughed and pointed to the table.
He had placed some things on top of the notebooks and labeled them.
“Tylenol. From Paul.” A bottle sat on the corner. My uncle knew my head would be sore. “Water, also from Paul, to be used in the taking of Tylenol.” A water bottle. “A beautiful picture from the lovely Kyah.” A folded piece of paper I knew had one of my thirteen year old sister’s amazing watercolors on it. “The towel you’re wearing and the umbrella are from your mom, just like these chocolate cookies. (I already ate one. They’re delicious.) And finally, this is from me.” I glanced up at him pointing to the blank spot the last arrow pointed to.
He grinned sheepishly and dug a beautiful new notebook out of his backpack. All the stuff on my old book was shoved onto the table as Keni grabbed it to use.
“I had been keeping this at your house for your mom to give you on your birthday since I’ll be gone. After I saw you fall and drop your black one, I figured you might this need one sooner rather then later. There’s instructions on the first page.” His handwriting shrank as the page filled up and he flipped it over. “You have to do that now I’ve decided.” Keni handed me both notebooks.
I scanned the pages he had written to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
“You saw me fall, too? Ever more lovely.” I handed him the black book back so he could respond while I read the instructions on the other book.
“Hey Lani! Happy Birthday! You’re seventeen now- catching up to me. I have one thing to ask before you fill up all the pages in this book. Write me a word picture for Amala, would you? She loves what you write, and she doesn’t get out much anymore. She helped me pick this out for you, and she made me promise I would ask you. Anyway, I hope 17 is great! Keni.”
A smile inched across my face. Of course. I’d do anything for Amala, Keni’s little sister and Kyah’s best friend. She had been adopted from Egypt as a baby with multiple spine and leg problems, and her surgeries left her paralyzed from the waist down and very fragile. She loved the beach, but couldn’t get out nearly as much as she would have liked.
I looked over to see that Keni had long since replied and was watching me with a smile. I grabbed the notebook and slapped his arm, surprising him and making him laugh.
“It was. Well?” He had answered.
“Not funny. And of course. Mal deserves it. Now, you said? And didn’t your mom ever teach you that it’s not polite to stare?”
He laughed as he read the reply. After a moment or two, he stood as he handed me the book back. I watched him walk our from under the gazebo roof and run towards my house, stopping only to turn and wave at me.
“Yeah, now.” He has written. “I’ll leave you to work. I have to get home now. Kyah is coming home with me to spend the night with Mal, so no hurry. I’ll get it tomorrow. And yeah, she did. But sometimes I just get distracted and forget. Sorry.” He had put a winking emoticon at the bottom.
My eyes widened and I blushed, grateful he had left.
Well. He has his nerve. I thought, using one of Grandma’s favorite phrases. I stared out onto the water for a good long time, thinking.
Yet another flash of lightening brought me back to reality. I shook my head, clearing my mind. I had work to do.
I gently pried open my new book, reading again the note in familiar handwriting. An eerie stillness crept through the open walls and I looked up, shivering under my towel.
The rain had stopped, just as suddenly as it had began. That was what living in Hawaii was like- fast changes. A rainbow reflected off the still, gently rolling water. It was perfect time to start my picture for Mal. I turned to the next page, took a deep breath and set my pen on the page.
Nights like last night always give me headaches. It makes sitting in the sun almost unbearable, robbing me of my favorite activity. Today, though, the clouds had rolled over the sun so I found myself outside anyways, sitting in the shadows, feeling the cool breeze. It was a relief to feel chilled after spending so many hours, feverish and uncomfortable.
Allie had offered to come and sit with me, but I didn’t want her company today. I really didn’t want anyone’s company. Especially not my family’s. I feel so embarrassed around them after my rough nights, knowing I kept them up most of the night. It’s like I’m some freak of nature.
The water splashed my feet and I picked up my notebook. I had to move farther up the beach or I was going to get wet. Glancing up at the still cloudy sky, I realized I might get wet either way. Gray clouds built over the open water, rapidly growing in my direction.
Great. I thought to myself. Since I knew I was alone, I let myself grumble out loud, placing my fingers over my throat to feel the rumble in my vocal cords. Just what I wanted. A rain storm. Classic.
I stood up and shook my fist at the dark sky, not stopping to consider the futility of my actions. Grumbling again as I stomped across the sand to my family’s gazebo, rain drops started to pound on my shoulders and head. I shook my head this time. My mood was bad enough I didn’t care if I got soaked. I wasn’t going to quit my sarcastic saunter even if it started pouring.
My feet started sticking in the muddy sand, disturbing my swagger. I fought to keep a steady rhythm in my steps.
Darn you, you dirty, rotten, good for nothing rain. We have enough water here already, thank you very much. You’re re-ruining my already ruined day, soaking my notebook and making me muddy. Is there anything else you’d like to torture me with?
The self-satisfied smirk from my rant was wiped off my face as I felt the electricity in the air change. I had about two seconds until the lightening struck- and it was going to be close by judging by the smell. I was forced to stop progress to shelter and duck. Instinct took over attitude.
About a mile behind me I felt a strike that had to have hit something. I glanced behind me, wiping the rain out of my eyes to see more clearly the black mark on the hillside.
Fine. You win. I stood and started trotting towards the lattice shack. The thunder following the flash of light concussed the entire beach, making me stumble. I reached out to catch myself with my left hand; the hand holding my notebook. I dropped it and watched it quickly get sucked into the sand and dirt. An angry tear fell onto the cover as I gritted my teeth until they hurt.
Another electric charge filled the air as I peeled my soggy book out of the hole. Placing it securely under my arm, I took off towards my safe house.
I was within thirty feet as the sky lit up and a smell like battery acid filled the air. I crouched, ready to run as soon as the thunder passed over. It took close to fifteen seconds for the ground to quit moving.
As I ran the last rocky beach way to the gazebo, I saw a colorful umbrella emerge out the back door of my house. Once under cover, I watched the figure, trying to guess who it was.
Mom? No, it was moving too fast for her. It was too tall for Allie or Kyah, and way too tall for Kanye. It was too light colored to be Uncle Paul. Maybe it was Rayna or Kalen, even thought it looked like a boy from the length of its stride.
I turned my back as they started down the steps to the beach. I was determined not to care who it was or what they wanted. Reminding myself of my awful mood, I resolved not to talk to anyone and sat in a lounge chair with a frown.
A shiver chased itself down my spine and I looked for something-anything- to dry off myself and my book.
The damp, metal tip of an umbrella poked the back of my neck, forcing me to turn around and face my intruder.
It was Keni. Not at all who I was expecting.
“Looking for something?” He signed, stuttering with his hands. The only sign language he knew was what I had taught him years ago, and he had never paid very well attention.
He held a towel out to me and I took it.
“Thank you?” He signed, as a question.
I sneered. “Thanks.” I could see his amusement at my anger, which just made me more angry. I turned to give him a glare, but before I could he gestured to my book, wanting to talk to me. I gave it to him.
“Thanks.” He wrote. “It’s a lot easier to use this then to try and sign all the time.”
I nodded without a word, acknowledging him, but nothing more.
You’re angry, Lani. Remember?
“Talk to me, Lani, please.” Once again I got poked to let me know that he wanted a response from me.
“I’m in a bad mood.” I sighed as I gave him the book, just so he would know how unhappy I truly was.
“I know. I talked to Allie and Paul inside. They told me about last night.”
“Lovely.” Allie was going to get a talking to later for having such a big mouth.
“No. Not lovely.” He purposely ignored my sarcasm. “I’m sorry.” His backpack sat next to him, but I had been so focused on being angry I hadn’t noticed it before.
“It’s fine.” During my short response, he lifted the bag on to his lap. He set my book on the table in between us and started pulling things out of his backpack.
I looked out to the ocean, boiling with heavy raindrops. I had to feign disgust and boredom around Keni, so I buried my curiosity and stared into the blue-gray distance.
This time I got flicked in the ear rather then poked. I turned my head, my brow furrowed and my tongue sticking out. He laughed and pointed to the table.
He had placed some things on top of the notebooks and labeled them.
“Tylenol. From Paul.” A bottle sat on the corner. My uncle knew my head would be sore. “Water, also from Paul, to be used in the taking of Tylenol.” A water bottle. “A beautiful picture from the lovely Kyah.” A folded piece of paper I knew had one of my thirteen year old sister’s amazing watercolors on it. “The towel you’re wearing and the umbrella are from your mom, just like these chocolate cookies. (I already ate one. They’re delicious.) And finally, this is from me.” I glanced up at him pointing to the blank spot the last arrow pointed to.
He grinned sheepishly and dug a beautiful new notebook out of his backpack. All the stuff on my old book was shoved onto the table as Keni grabbed it to use.
“I had been keeping this at your house for your mom to give you on your birthday since I’ll be gone. After I saw you fall and drop your black one, I figured you might this need one sooner rather then later. There’s instructions on the first page.” His handwriting shrank as the page filled up and he flipped it over. “You have to do that now I’ve decided.” Keni handed me both notebooks.
I scanned the pages he had written to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
“You saw me fall, too? Ever more lovely.” I handed him the black book back so he could respond while I read the instructions on the other book.
“Hey Lani! Happy Birthday! You’re seventeen now- catching up to me. I have one thing to ask before you fill up all the pages in this book. Write me a word picture for Amala, would you? She loves what you write, and she doesn’t get out much anymore. She helped me pick this out for you, and she made me promise I would ask you. Anyway, I hope 17 is great! Keni.”
A smile inched across my face. Of course. I’d do anything for Amala, Keni’s little sister and Kyah’s best friend. She had been adopted from Egypt as a baby with multiple spine and leg problems, and her surgeries left her paralyzed from the waist down and very fragile. She loved the beach, but couldn’t get out nearly as much as she would have liked.
I looked over to see that Keni had long since replied and was watching me with a smile. I grabbed the notebook and slapped his arm, surprising him and making him laugh.
“It was. Well?” He had answered.
“Not funny. And of course. Mal deserves it. Now, you said? And didn’t your mom ever teach you that it’s not polite to stare?”
He laughed as he read the reply. After a moment or two, he stood as he handed me the book back. I watched him walk our from under the gazebo roof and run towards my house, stopping only to turn and wave at me.
“Yeah, now.” He has written. “I’ll leave you to work. I have to get home now. Kyah is coming home with me to spend the night with Mal, so no hurry. I’ll get it tomorrow. And yeah, she did. But sometimes I just get distracted and forget. Sorry.” He had put a winking emoticon at the bottom.
My eyes widened and I blushed, grateful he had left.
Well. He has his nerve. I thought, using one of Grandma’s favorite phrases. I stared out onto the water for a good long time, thinking.
Yet another flash of lightening brought me back to reality. I shook my head, clearing my mind. I had work to do.
I gently pried open my new book, reading again the note in familiar handwriting. An eerie stillness crept through the open walls and I looked up, shivering under my towel.
The rain had stopped, just as suddenly as it had began. That was what living in Hawaii was like- fast changes. A rainbow reflected off the still, gently rolling water. It was perfect time to start my picture for Mal. I turned to the next page, took a deep breath and set my pen on the page.
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