Toyin Awotunde Portfolio

Toyin Awotunde

1 August 2014

Creative Writing

Peek-a-boo!

Table of Contents

1. Introduction

2. Circular Story FIRST DRAFT.......................................Coffee Shop

3. Circular Story REVISED...............................................Coffee Shop

4. Character Based Story FIRST DRAFT..........................Untitled

5. Character Based Story REVISED..................................Michelle

6. Point of View Story FIRST DRAFT ............................Untitled

7. Point of View Story REVISED......................................Missing Person

8. Awkward Setting Story FIRST DRAFT........................Amusement Park

9. Awkward Setting Story REVISED................................Amusement Park

10. Moon Prose DRAFT ...................................................Untitled

11. Moon Poem DRAFT......................................................Mother Moon

12. Moon Poem REVISED..................................................Mother Moon

13. Moon Poem Haiku DRAFT...........................................Untitled

14. Moon Poem Haiku REVISED........................................Untitled

15. Outside Poem #1FIRST DRAFT...................................Fire with Fire

16. Outside Poem #1 REVISED......................................... Fire with Fire

17. Outside Poem #2FIRST DRAFT...................................Farmcrest Drive

18. Outside Poem #2 REVISED..........................................Before the Move

19. Outside Poem #3FIRST DRAFT...................................Smiles

20. Outside Poem #3 REVISED..........................................Smiles

Introduction

When I signed up for the Creative Writing class at University of Maryland, I did not think I had a

chance of getting in. I submitted my application late, my grades were somewhat poor, and I had

not written recreationally for several months. Luckily, I was admitted to the program, and have

rediscovered why I fell in love with writing to begin with. Writing is an excellent form of self

expression, and it can also be used as an escape. There are few better ways to escape problems in

your world than creating your own. One thing I have learned by taking this class is how to accept

people, and their talents. Especially during workshops, I noticed how each student in the class

has their own voice, and that it is important to edit someone's work without adding your own

voice or taking theirs away. In terms of writing, this class has taught me the importance of

articulating yourself properly, so the reader can spend more time understanding a deeper

meaning as opposed to spending time on plot or confusing details. Lastly, this class has revealed

the effects of use of strong imagery. My initial perception was, in order to create a strong image

for the reader, the writer just had to throw in a lot of details and descriptions about setting: age

town, time period, etc. While these things are important, I have learned that imagery describing

emotion requires the writer to describe a picture that conveys an emotion.

What I enjoyed most about the poetry section was exploring the mind of the author. My

favorite activity was watching a poet write a poem given a specific prompt, about a Halloween

party. One of my greatest struggles with poetry is finding a way to convey what is in my head on

paper clearly, so the reader can draw emotion from the words. This activity showed me how to

organize thought and ideas so that I could draw from them as material for the poem. When

constructing my poems for this portfolio, I tried my best to focus on creating in image to convey

emotion instead using a story. In the prose section of this course, I struggled most with creating

as story that would draw in the reader. Typically, my fiction pieces tell a story clearly, but very

plainly. What I learned in this section is how to arrange a piece, what details to include/not to

include, and what perspective to use in order to connect with the reader.

My hope in terms of writing is to have one of my fiction pieces published in a literary

magazine before I finish high school. Overall, I still hope to improve in my ability to connect

with the reader. Also, I would like to broaden the scope of the topics I write about. They are

typically told from the perspective of a young teenage girl like myself, which is predictable. I

was inspired by my classmates' use of people of all age ranges, of the opposite gender, and even

objects as their subjects.

Coffee Shop Explosion

“Bridget!” shouted the barista, over the sound of blenders whirling and ovens slamming. As she

rushed over the table to pick up her coffee, the barista shouted “Frankie!” The man standing next

to the table suddenly turned around, grabbed a cup of coffee, and whizzed back to his seat, as if

he were delivering the drink to someone important. Bridget turned around to watch him return to

an empty table, realizing he was eating alone. She began to question why he was alone; he was

handsome, seemed sociable, and she often saw him arrive with co-workers. He simply always ate

alone. Though they had never officially spoken, Bridget felt as if she were specially connected to

Frankie. On the day of the stores opening, they were the first two customers to arrive and order

coffee. This was about three years ago, and it honestly wasn’t a big event in her life; she couldn’t

seem to figure out why she remembered him so well. Walking over to pick up her coffee, she

offered a smile to the barista, who didn’t even look up as she approached. “He should really quit

his job” she thought to herself, wondering how he could get through the day being so inattentive.

Looking down at her drink, she absentmindedly realized it was heavier than usual. Thinking the

barista had given the wrong size, she turned back on her heel to order another drink. About

halfway across the room, she looked down at her drink and saw the name “Franky” written

sloppily, and misspelled. Unknowingly, Bridget had stopped walking, and a lady rushing out the

coffee shop almost ran into her. “Excuse me!” the lady spat, giving her a dirty look.

Flustered, Bridget moved to the side and returned to her seat. She stared at the cup of

coffee, wondering if she should return it to Frankie or order another drink for herself. “He has

probably already drunken some of it” she thought. Turning around to his table, she discovers his

has left momentarily, and her drink lay untouched. “I can just switch them, he won’t even know

anything happened” she thinks. She approaches his table, only to see him walking towards her

from the men’s bathroom. For the first time she can remember, he makes direct eye contact with

her, and she freezes at his seat. Not sure what to do, she smiles at him, probably a little too hard.

Frankie arrives at the table and rudely asks “What are you doing?” .Bridget becomes extremely

nervous; she felt as though she was being accused. She stutters “I-I-I was delivering you this cup

of coffee”, still smiling. As Frankie gives her a confused look, she continues “The barista

switched our orders”. “Well, that’s alright, I would actually much rather keep my drink” he

replies. This time Bridget gives him the confused look, as he sits down and snatches up her cup

of coffee. Still in disbelief, she walks back to her table.

For some reason, she suddenly felt very irritated. She began to remember all the times in

her life she was mocked to being a “pushover” or “people pleaser”. Fed up with this identity and

Frankie’s nasty attitude, she turns back to his table to see her drink lay there still untouched,

Frankie typing furiously on his laptop, once again as if he is in some big hurry. Bridget feels the

anger boil over inside; she rushes over to Frankie ad snatches up her drink, smirking at his

surprised face as she does. Walking away, she once again absentmindedly remarks how heavy

the drink is. To her surprise, she feels the cup pulsate slightly. “Could it be boiling?” she

questions, as she opens the lid.

Inside she finds a small metal ball with blinking lights and wires stringed all across it.

Suddenly short of breath, she turns back to Frankie’s table only to see that he as ran away.

The pulsating gets stronger, and the ball begins to beep.

Bridget throws the cup to an empty corner across the room, and is blown back against a

wall as the bomb goes off.

Coffee Shop Explosion

“Bridget!” shouted the barista, over the sound of blenders whirling and ovens slamming.

As she rushes over to the table to pick up her coffee, the barista shouts “Frankie!” .

The man standing next to the table quickly turns around, grabbed a cup of coffee, and whizzes

back to his seat, as if he were delivering the drink to someone important. Bridget turns to watch

him return to an empty table, seeing he was eating alone. She began to question why he was

alone; he was handsome, seemed sociable, and she often saw him arrive with co-workers. He

simply always ate alone. Though they had never officially spoken, Bridget felt as if she were

specially connected to Frankie. On the day of the stores opening, they were the first two

customers to arrive and order coffee. In another instance, he had paid for her order, but left

before she could thank him. She watches him closely whenever they are in the shop together, and

he has never done anything like that for another customer."Does he like eating alone?" she

ponders. "Does he have a girlfriend, or any friends?" Walking over to pick up her coffee, she

offers a smile to the barista, who doesn't look up as she approaches. Looking down at her drink,

she absentmindedly realized it was heavier than usual. Thinking the barista had given the wrong

size, she turns back on her heel to order another drink. " More coffee for me," she decides. About

halfway across the room, she looked down at her drink and saw the name “Franky” written

sloppily, and misspelled.

She stares at the cup of coffee, wondering if she should return it to Frankie or order

another drink for herself. “He has probably already taken some of mine” she thought. Turning

around to his table, she discovers his has left momentarily, and her drink lay untouched. “I can

just switch them, he won’t even know anything happened” she thinks. She approaches his table,

only to see him walking towards her from the men’s bathroom. For the first time she can

remember, he makes direct eye contact with her, and she freezes at his seat. The look in his eyes,

though she cannot quite describe it, startles her.

Not sure what to do, she smiles at him, maybe a little too hard. Frankie arrives at the table

and rudely asks “What are you doing?”

.Looking around confusedly, and unable to hold still from nervousness, she stutters “I-I-I

was delivering you this cup of coffee”. As Frankie gives her a confused look, she continues “The

barista switched our orders”.

“Well, that’s alright, I would actually much rather keep my drink” he replies. This time

Bridget gives him the confused look, as he sits down and snatches up her cup of coffee. Still in

disbelief, she walks back to her table.

"What the hell was that all about?" she questions, not knowing if she's confused or upset.

Bridget suddenly has a flashback to grade school, when Katie Minker used to take her lunch

money every day. Her whole life, Bridget has been a bit of a pushover, always letting things slide

just for the sake of keeping the peace. Fed up with this identity and Frankie’s nasty attitude, she

turns back to his table to see her drink lay there still untouched, Frankie typing furiously on his

laptop once again as if he is in some big hurr. Bridget feels the anger boil over inside; she rushes

over to Frankie ad snatches up her drink, smirking at his surprised face as she does. Walking

away, she once again absentmindedly remarks how heavy the drink is. To her surprise, she feels

the cup pulsate slightly. “Could it be boiling?” she questions, as she opens the lid.

Inside she finds a small metal ball with blinking lights and wires stringed all across it.

Suddenly short of breath, she turns back to Frankie’s table only to see that he has ran away.

The pulsating gets stronger, and the ball begins to beep.

Bridget throws the cup to an empty corner across the room, and is blown back against a

wall as the bomb goes off.

Untitled

Dumping his bags on the floor, Josh steps into his house and inhales the smell of fresh jollof rice.

His mom had prepared his favorite, a common occurrence whenever he came to visit. He hears

feet rushing down the main staircase, and the next thing he knows his sister is clinging to him. A

bit unbalanced by her force, he stumbles but hugs her back tightly. "You've gotten so much

bigger Michelle! Have you been practicing like I told you?" his says. "Yup, four days a week.

Coach says I'm getting better, maybe I have a chance of being recruited" she replied, a big smile

planted on her face. Hearing footsteps on the staircase again, Josh turned around to see Joyce

coming down the steps, her purse in tow. "Hey big sis!" Josh shouted. As he approached her to

give her a hug, he saw something change in her eyes, though it was the opposite of what he

would have expected. She seems disappointed with his arrival, as if he were some come of

burden that had appeared at the wrong time.

"How's school?" she asks blandly. Before he can answer, Michelle interjects "Do you

know what tonight is?!", bouncing up and down with excitement. He remembers then that their

favorite show was airing in just five minutes. They watch it together whenever he's home, one of

the many ways they spend time together. "Let's go downstairs before we miss it!" he replies.

Suddenly Josh rembers he hasn't seen his mother yet. As if she has read his mind, Joyce tells

him" Mom is on her way back home. She asked me and Michelle if we can go pick up some

groceries, and start dinner before she gets back".

"But me and Michelle always watch Teen Wolf on Mondays. Come on Joyce I just got home fr-"

"Sorry, but mom asked us to, and I don't want to get in trouble" She interrupts. Leaving the room

to walk to her car, she shouts "Michelle, I'm leaving", and waits for a response. She then walks to

her car, and waits to see her young sister run over and join her. Michelle never shows up. Mildly

irritated, Joyce walks back into the house and storms into the basement, expecting to find her

siblings watching TV together, but she only finds one. "Josh, where is Michelle?" she questions.

"I thought she already left with you" he replies absentmindedly, half listening and half watching

TV.

Joyce begins to worry; this is not the first time Michelle has gone missing. Sometimes

she just hides out in her room, but sometimes she runs over to the neighbors' without telling

anyone. Joyce checks her room, only to find it empty. Her heart begins to pound. She rushed to

the telephone and calls every house in the neighborhood, but no one has seen Michelle. She runs

downstairs, and can barely speak when she tells her brother she can't find Michelle. She explains

that there has been a bit of tension between the two of them lately, and that she had been running

away often. She doesn't know what to do or who else to call, but feels they should let their mom

come home before they call the police. To her surprise, Josh lashes out suddenly. "How could

you let this happen?! You should have warned me about this before I got home; I could have

stopped her. You're the worst sister on the planet". He storms out of the room, walking upstairs

to get some fresh air and clear his head. At the foot of the back door he finds a small note that

states :

I warned you this would happen. Don't come look for me.

Michelle

Michelle

Dumping his USC bags on the floor, Josh steps into his house and inhales the smell of fresh

jollof rice. His mom had prepared his favorite, a common occurrence whenever he comes to

visit. He hears feet rushing down the main staircase, and the next thing he knows his sister is

clinging to him. A bit unbalanced by her force, he stumbles but hugs her back tightly.

"You're a giant Michelle! When will these growth spurts stop?" his exclaims.

"Probably not for a while. I'm only eleven" she replies, a big smile planted on her face.

Hearing footsteps on the staircase again, Josh turns around to see Joyce coming down the steps,

her purse in tow. Right after Josh shouts "Hey big sis!", Michelle grabs his right hand, and they

perform their secret handshake. Starting with a high five with both hands, they do a fist bump,

(which explodes) and then a short game of patty cake, ending with a recitation of their favorite

movie line. After this, Josh approaches Joyce to give her a hug, and sees something change in her

eyes: they become a bit colder. It seems Joyce is disappointed with his arrival, as if he is some

come of burden that has appeared at the wrong time.

"How's school?" she asks blandly.

"It's been going great, I met with coach yesterday and he was talking about giving me more

playing time" he says.

"Well isn't that just great" she mumbles, not looking up at him. Before he can answer, Michelle

interjects.

"Do you know what tonight is?!", bouncing up and down with excitement. He remembers then

that their favorite show was airing in just five minutes. They watch it together whenever he's

home, one of the many ways they spend time together.

"Let's go downstairs before we miss it!" he replies. Suddenly Josh remembers he hasn't seen his

mother yet. As if she is reading his mind, Joyce tells him

"Mom is on her way back home. She asked me and Michelle if we can go pick up some groceries

for dessert after dinner".

"But me and Michelle always watch Teen Wolf on Mondays. Come on Joyce I just got home fr-"

"Sorry, mom asked us to, and I don't want to get in trouble" She interrupts. Leaving the room to

walk to her car, she shouts "Michelle, I'm leaving".

"Let me get my things" Michelle replies.

Walking to her car, Joyce wonders "Wasn't her jacket right next to her in the kitchen? What else

could she need?", She waits to see her young sister run over and join her, but Michelle never

shows up. Mildly irritated, Joyce walks back into the house and storms into the basement

expecting to find her siblings watching TV together, but she only finds one.

"Josh, where is Michelle?" she questions.

"I thought she left with you" he replies absentmindedly, half listening and half watching TV.

Joyce begins to worry; this is not the first time Michelle has disappeared. Sometimes she

just hides out in their room, but sometimes she runs over to the neighbors' without telling

anyone. Joyce checks their room, only to find it empty. Her heart begins to pound. She rushes to

the telephone and calls every house in the neighborhood, but no one has seen Michelle. She runs

downstairs, and can barely speak when she tells her brother she can't find Michelle.

"We haven't been getting along well since you left for school. She told me that living at home

with me sucks compared to living with you last year. It's gotten so bad that she started running

away. Turning off the TV, Josh turns around and shouts

"How could you let this happen?! You should have warned me about this before I got home; I

could have stopped her! This is all your f-"

"We don't have time to argue, we need to call mom and then the police. Go upstairs and grab the

phone."

"Get it yourself. You're the one who got us into this mess"

Josh storms out of the room, walking outside to get some fresh air and clear his head. At

the foot of the back door he finds a small note that states :

I warned you this would happen. Don't come look for me.

Michelle

Josh walks further outside, only to find that Joyce's car in gone.

Suddenly, Josh hears a loud crash at the end of the street.

Untitled

"I think they kidnapped her. Those guys with the motorcycle and the cigarettes, or whatever they

were smoking. We brought the bikes out, and rode down the street to the entrance of the park,

like we always do. Gbenga was a little ahead of me with Nike, and she was right next to me

when we saw those guys. They looked at us all very suspiciously when we passed, and I even

warned the kids to be careful. Why would she go off like that? She already knew had dad was

walking by himself; she didn't need to ride with him as soon as we saw him. He would have been

fine on his own." Felix drives down the road with his sister, continuing to search the area for his

youngest niece.

"I didn't think he was going to call the police. When they got here they didn't even turn on the

siren, which I think would have been cool. Now Nike owes me five dollars, but it's okay if she

doesn't pay me. She might be my only sister now, so I should try and be nicer to her. Mom really

scared me when she got home. When we said we lost Toyin, she screamed so loud, and her face

crumbled like I've never seen before. She ran outside and just kept crying. I think she

misunderstood us, because when we said we couldn't find her, she calmed down a little bit. I

thinks the neighbors heard, because now Chris and Michael are looking for Toyin too. Jocelyn is

in the living room trying to watch TV with Nike, but she won't stop crying" Gbenga thought to

himself, as he sat at the foot of the steps, trying to hear what the police were saying in the

basement.

" 'If she doesn't show up within the next twenty four hours, we are likely going to take the father

into custody' said the Officer Jackson. Just like that. They were going to arrest my brother in law.

He could be going to jail. How would this family survive without him and their youngest child,

gone within one day?" thought Felix. Realizing that it was getting dark out, he decided to

continue looking for Toyin.

"Daddy's going to jail. Why would someone ever arrest the father who lost the child? Why not a

father who didn't have a child; they are more likely to take someone else's. This is getting out of

hand, but I can't cry in front of Nike. I can't cry at all; I'm now one of the men in this household.

So much for being a nine year old. I guess I should go outside and help uncle Felix." thought

Gbenga, walking outside.

Felix walked along the entrance to the park at least five times in a row, back and forth over and

over again. The entrance was a thin slab of pavement marked by a small stream on either sides.

As the night drew closer, his thoughts grew increasingly darker. "What if she's down there? Chris

said the same thing happened to his friend in middle school, and they found his body in bushes

like this one. You hear about things like this all the time on the local new station. But she can't

be dead, instantly out of our lives. I refuse to believe something awful like this could happen to

Toyin. We should alert the neighbors that we still haven't found her yet, that they should be on

the lookout for her." thought Felix, as he walked back inside the house after a long day.

"Mom and dad said they were too tired to walk to all the neighbors houses , so they would call

instead with news that we still haven't found her. Chris said he would let his parents know as

soon as he gets home up the street. The police are leaving, but said it has to be an official twenty

four hours before we file a missing person report. I don't know why twenty four hours, but that's

what they said. I don't see how any of us are going to sleep tonight" considered Gbenga, as he

watched the police car drive away, and his parents walk solemnly back into the house.

Missing Person

As I drive down the street with Vivian, I begin to suspect they kidnapped Toyin, my

youngest niece. Those guys around the motorcycle with the cigarettes, or whatever they were

smoking. When her Toyin's siblings and I decided we would take the bikes out, we rode down

the street to the entrance of the park, like we always do. That's when we saw the suspects: they

were just standing there, and looked at the four of us suspiciously, as if they were waiting for

something to happen. I warned the kids to be careful and stay close, which is why I don’t

understand why she ran off to her dad when she saw him. He had been walking around by

himself, and for a while Toyin stayed with him. Apparently not for long; her dad came home

asking where she was, but we thought she was with him. Nobody knows where she is. Now I/m

searching for her with my sister, hoping that she couldn't have gone too far on just a bike.

I bet Nike that Uncle Felix was going to call the police. She knew that he and mom were

out looking for Toyin, and thought they would find her really fast. They didn't. When the police

got here they didn't even turn on the siren, which I think would have been cool. Now Nike owes

me five dollars, but it's okay if she doesn't pay me. She might be my only sister now, so I should

try and be nicer to her. Mom really scared me when she got home. When we said "We lost

Toyin", she screamed so loud, and her face crumbled like I've never seen before. She ran outside

and just kept crying. I think she misunderstood us, because when we said "We can't find her", she

calmed down a little bit. I think the neighbors heard her, because now Chris and Michael are

looking for Toyin too. Their sister is in the living room trying to watch TV with Nike, but she

won't stop crying. Watching TV with them is pretty boring...I'm gonna go try and listen to what

the policemen are telling my dad and my uncle.

What the hell did officer Jackson just say? They were going to take Tayo into custody?

This makes no sense to me. I ask the officer to clarify, and he tells me that Tayo is the prime

suspect in Toyin's disappearance, because he is the last person to be seen with her. I cannot even

begin to imagine he would do something like this. I admit, Toyin was pretty annoying for a six

year old, but not enough that her own father would kill her. This whole situation is getting out of

hand. I think it would be best if I go back outside and keep searching.

I just heard the policeman say daddy's going to jail. Why would someone ever arrest the

father who lost the child? Why not a father who didn't have a child; they are more likely to take

someone else's. This is making me really sad, but I can't cry in front of Nike. I can't cry at all; I'm

now one of the men in this household. So much for being a nine year old. I think Uncle Felix is

coming upstairs...I'm going back to the living room to watch TV so he doesn't know I was

listening in.

Once I am out of the house, I am compelled walk over to the park again. Its entrance is a

thin slab of pavement marked by a small stream on either sides. Mesmerized by the rushing

water, I question "What if she's down there?" Our neighbor Chris once told me that the same

thing happened to his friend in middle school, and they found his body in bushes like this one.

You hear about things like this all the time on the local new station. It seems my thoughts have

been growing darker with the night. It's pretty late now, almost 8:30. I need to stop thinking like

this. She can't be dead, instantly out of my life. I refuse to believe something awful like this

could happen to Toyin. Chris and his family need to head back home. Me and Tayo should alert

the neighbors that we still haven't found her yet, that they should be on the lookout.

Mom and dad said they were too tired to walk to all the neighbors houses, so they called

instead with news that we still haven't found her. Chris said he would let his parents know as

soon as he gets home up the street. The police are leaving, and they said they would file a

missing person's report. Then they randomly started talking about amber, which made mom cry

again. I give her hug, but she squeezes me and it kinda hurts.

Amusement Park

"Aw shit" thinks Nadia. "I knew this would happen. Leah and Maria always ditch me like this"

she realizes, as she climbs into a seat next to the sweaty guy, as opposed to her friends, eating a

hot dog on The Comet. "He's probably had so many, he might puke on me. Why the hell am I

even on this thing, I hate roller coasters. I hate amusement parks" she thinks to herself, casting

side glances at the man as he finishes off the hot dog. As the park employees come around to

secure their belts, she smells a familiar cologne, one that makes her nauseous. "Wow, is there

anything right with this man? Of all the people to sit next to". Just as Nadia begins to inch

towards the edge of the seat, an employee arrives and asks her to move back in, for safety

purposes. "Whatever" she mutters, and realizes the smell of the cologne is now overpowering; it

is coming from the employee. Looking up at him to see the face that belonged to that awful

stench, Nadia recognizes a tattoo in his arm, and grows increasingly nauseous. She knows that

tattoo. She knows that cologne. She knows that man. Her abusive ex-husband, Daniel, who she

ran away from years ago and spent hours pleading in court with until their divorce was finalized.

"I need to get off this thing" she panics, but it is too late. The ride hisses and jumps forward,

beginning its climb to the foreboding peak.

Just before the roller coaster climbs over the edge and pulls the riders through a maze of

sharp turns and tight swirls, Nadia closes her eyes. Doing this to escape the horror of seeing the

ground rushing towards her as the ride speeds down, she is only horrified with images of her past

marriage. With each jerk of the ride she remembers each push and shove from Daniel. When the

ride races through a loop, she remembers when she discovered he had been cheating. When the

ride comes to what seems like an abrupt halt, and she almost flies out of her seat, she remembers

when she lost her pregnancy. Finally opening her eyes, she discovers the greasy man sitting next

to her is staring at her. "Ma'am, I need to go now" he says ,with a worried look in his eyes,

almost like he was afraid of her. "Then get out already" Nadia snaps, giving him a dirty look as

she waits for him to leave. "Well maybe I could, if you would just let go of my hand" he replies.

Nadia looks down to see that she has a tight grip on his hand, so much so that the tips of his

fingers are a purplish-red. Looking up at him completely horrified, she stutters out "Oh my

goodness, I'm so sorry, I... I'm really afraid of...roller coaster rides...". Just as she is about to let

go of the greasy man's hand, he grips hers for a second and then pulls her in for a hug. Pushing

her head near his underarm, he whispers" Don't worry, its' all over now. The torture is all over.

You're going to be fine", as the fumes from his body enter her lungs. Maybe it is this stench, or

the look Daniel gives her as she finally gets out of her seat, that makes her run to the nearest

trashcan and spill her guts out.

Amusement Park

"Aw shit," thinks Nadia. "I knew this would happen. My friends always ditch me like

this" she realizes, as she climbs into a seat next to the sweaty guy, eating a hot dog, on The

Comet. "He's probably had so many, he might puke on me. Why the hell am I even on this thing,

I hate roller coasters. I hate amusement parks, I’m getting too old for this shit,” she thinks to

herself, casting side-glances at the man as he finishes off the hot dog. As the park employees

come around to secure the passengers’ belts, she smells a familiar cologne, that makes her

nauseous. "Wow, is there anything right with this man? Of all the people to sit next to". Just as

Nadia begins to inch towards the edge of her seat, an employee arrives and asks her to move

back in, for safety purposes. "Whatever" she mutters, and realizes the smell of the cologne is

now overpowering; it is coming from the employee. Looking up at him to see the face that

belonged to the awful stench, Nadia recognizes the tattoo in his arm, and grows increasingly

nauseous. She knows that tattoo. She knows that cologne. She knows that man. Her abusive ex-

husband, Daniel, who she ran away from years ago and spent hours pleading in court with until

their divorce was finalized. "I need to get off this thing," she panics, but it is too late. The ride

hisses and jumps forward, beginning its climb to the foreboding peak.

Just before the roller coaster climbs over the edge to pull the passengers through a maze

of sharp turns and tight swirls, Nadia closes her eyes. Doing this to escape the horror of seeing

the ground rushing towards her as the ride speeds down, she is only horrified with images of her

past marriage. Each jerk of the seat reminds her of every shove from Daniel. As the ride races

through a loop, she is reminded of when she discovered he had been cheating. When the ride

comes to an abrupt halt, and she almost flies out of her seat, she remembers when she miscarried.

Nadia and Daniel were married at twenty-one, and tried to start a family as soon as possible.

With all the stress in her life from their relationship, her body wasn’t healthy enough to carry a

child. Losing her child was like losing a part of herself, along with any hope of maintaining her

marriage. Finally opening her eyes, Nadia discovers the greasy man sitting next to her is staring

at her.

"Ma'am, I need to go now,” he says, with a worried look in his eyes, as if he is afraid of her.

"Then get out already!" Nadia snaps, giving him a dirty look as she waits for him to leave.

"Well maybe I could, if you would just let go of my hand" he replies.

Nadia looks down to see that she has a tight grip on his hand, so much so that the tips of his

fingers are a purplish-red. Looking up at him, completely horrified, she stutters

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I... I'm really afraid of...roller coaster rides...” Just as she is about

to let go of the greasy man's hand, he grips hers for a second and then pulls her in for a hug.

Pushing her head near his underarm, he whispers

"Don't worry, its' all over now. You're going to be fine", as the fumes from his body enter her

lungs. Maybe it is this stench, or the look Daniel gives her as she finally gets out of her seat, that

makes her run to the nearest trash can and spill her guts out.

Untitled

I storm out of the house, questioning how this could be happening to me again. The roads are

mostly clear, and the moon is shining its brightest. It is a beautiful night in Snoqualmie Falls,

Washington, but I'm not in the mood to admire it. I feel as though my life is swirling around me,

like I am on some kind of awful roller coaster. A roller coaster where everything important to me

gets flung out of its seat. The loss of grandfather is like a loss of identity. Everything I have

become in the past several years, all of my successes and achievements are because of my

grandfather. After my parents passed in the accident, he was the only one who truly cared about

me. With him gone, I am absolutely nothing.

Walking into the park, I hop the fence. The entrance is locked, as the park had closed

hours ago. This was one of our favorite places to go; we visited at least once a week. Too drained

to move any further, I lie down in the grass, looking up at the stars wishing I am anywhere but

here, in this life under these circumstances. I didn't think I could survive another loss. The

distance and hope shining from the stars reminds me of a legend grandpa used to tell me, based

in the region. They also wished to live in the stars, and their dream came true. When the sisters

arrive in the sky, they were married, and the elder one becomes pregnant with a son named

Moon. The sisters become homesick, and unhappy with their lives in the sky. This part of the

legend I can relate to. When I lost my parents, I craved the feeling of having a family, and felt I

would never experience it again. According to grandpa, the sisters are restricted to gathering

food and raising the children, while the men travel and hunt. One day they go into the fields to

pick for roots, and mistakenly find an escape route back to Earth.

When they arrive back home there is a large celebration, during which Moon is

kidnapped. I guess this part related to me losing my grandpa. Although, when Moon is found and

makes his way back home, he transforms the other tribes into animals, rivers, even mountains.

After his work is done, he takes refuge in the sky during the night, while his brother Sun takes

over during the day. If being trapped in another world and having your son kidnapped can result

in something beautiful, maybe good can come out of the losing of my grandfather.

Mother Moon

The moon is like my mother,

Tossing me and turning me,

Drawing me back and forth.

Such control over my life,

Even if it is against my will.

The moon is like my mother.

It can put me into a rage inside

Until a true beast is made.

The moon is like my mother.

White, but with bumps and craters

Rock through and through,

Blocking off the harsh rays yet still able to

Bring me light in the darkness.

Like a star plummeting towards me,

The rock that blew me right at my core,

She is destined to surround me as I make my own journey.

Mother Moon

The moon is like my mother.

I was born out of her, a portion taken from her heart,

a portion teeming with potential.

She attempted to mold me, tossing, turning, and flipping,

until I howled and panted, and ran.

She drew out the beast in me.

I continued to move further and further, until she couldn't reach me.

Just watch.

This woman,

created by collision,

possessing the power to bring light into the night,

Can only pass through my path of orbit,

as I make my own.

Untitled

The moon is like my mother,

circling around me,

millions of miles away.

Untitled

The moon is my mom.

She's circling around me,

from so far away.

Fire with Fire

The heat rushed over my face,

Thrashing and scratching, consistent like a ray of sunlight.

I tried to ignore it, but it only got closer; it only intensified.

I even asked it to get off of me; it only got stronger.

I wanted the heat to feel pain like I did, so I thrashed and scratched back.

Doing this only made the heat spread farther over me, creeping into my core.

It became unbearable.

I had to get it out of me.

“Speak” I thought.

“Speak” I willed, but the heat but stuck in my throat, burning my lungs on the way up.

“You’re not allowed to fire back at me, how could you be so rude?” spat the heat,

“You need to learn to respect people”.

Fire With Fire

The heat rushed over my face,

Thrashing and scratching, consistent like a ray of sunlight.

I tried to ignore it, but it only continued its approach

it only intensified.

I begged it to get off of me; it only got stronger.

The heat was not being fair

I wanted the heat to feel pain like I did, so

I thrashed and scratched back.

Doing this only made the heat spread farther over me,

creeping into my core.

It became unbearable.

I had to get it out of me.

“Speak” I thought.

“Speak” I willed, but the heat but stuck in my throat,

burning my lungs on the way up.

“You’re not allowed to fire back at me, how could you be so rude?” spat the heat,

“You need to learn to respect people”.

Farmcrest Dr.

The first thing remembered is the park

Grass green like it was glowing

That mountain of stairs to get to the second level

Losing every single soccer game

The smell of grass was everywhere:

in cleats we brought home

in the whiles of the bike in the basement

Everything was moist and sticky

From the hot breath of shouting and laughter

sweat produced by MD humidity

slurpies from 7-11 dripping over

There was a warmth year round

from the thick weather of summer

from the smiles of my neighbors

from the hot food on the table,

from my chest, always beating at full energy

Before The Move

The first thing remembered is the park

grass green like it glowed

a cramp in my leg from climbing up the steps

which lead to a field where

I never won a soccer game.

Not one

The smell of the outdoors was everywhere:

in cleats dumped on the kitchen floor

bike tires stored in the basement

the stained knees of our whitest pants

Moisture and stickiness covered all surfaces

Made by the hot breath of laughter and shouting

by sweat produces from fast-paced movement

by the beads of 7-11 slurpies that escaped our cups

Warmth pervaded my surroundings year-round

coating me like a dense humidity

filling me up like a hot meal.

Produced from a welcoming embrace,

a genuine smile

the heartbeat of a child at full energy

Smiles

The creatures piled onto the coach bus,

Two by two,

All matching,

All sparkling.

There were all kinds of smiles:

Wide grins that make your face sore,

Smirks forced from discomfort,

Maybe even tears of joy.

It seemed dancing wasn’t allowed.

Everyone just jumped

and bounced

and screamed.

When the fateful hour of departure arrived,

The real smiles appeared.

The creatures knew the real event would begin

at the after party.

Smiles

They piled onto the coach bus,

Two by two,

All matching,

All sparkling.

There were all kinds of smiles:

Wide grins that make your face sore

Smirks forced from discomfort

Knowing smiles from spectators all around

They knew all too well what the performance would be like

As the bus carried them to the stage,

there was all sorts of prepping:

Powder was applied

Costumes were compared

Flasks were hidden

It seemed dancing wasn’t allowed at the show

They just jumped

and bounced

and screamed.

That was, until, the host announced that moment.

Dreaded by some, anticipated by others,

Where they piled into group,

two-by-two

moving back and forth in unison.

Throughout the show there were many intermissions.

Private intermissions, with only two or three people.

Although, according to the knowing smiles,

they weren't so private

After this final performance,

the show at last came to an end.

Lead performers were given flowers and crowns,

and the audience was dismissed.

It's a real shame, because

it is after then that the real smiles appeared