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8/13/2019 Creative Writing Final Portfolio
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Little Memos of a Lifetime
Edited by the Summer 2013 Class of Creative Writing at QueensUniversity of Charlotte
Professor: Charles Israel
Ashley S Horton
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Table of Contents
I remember 4
Home 6
The Dream 8
My True Love 9
The Will 10
Whats mine is mine 18
Workshop drafts for class
Youthful Memories 24
Home 26
Nightmare 28
My true love 29
The ugly green chair 30
Whats mine is mine 38
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I dedicate this to my dear, sweet Bailey.
You are the best friend and companion one could ever ask for.
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I Remember
A festival each year,
Filled with laughter and cheer,
To celebrate the seasons delights.
Black berry jam and honey cured ham,
Were the most prized little treats to bite.
One hot summer evening,
A whir filled the air,
With sounds that would deafen the dead.
A cloud swept over hiding the sun,
and filled my body with dread.
I ran for my mother,
Looking all over,
While the clouds made the day look like night.
But when I looked in the sky,
To my absolute surprise,
I saw our small car take flight.
As I fought back the tears,
that were stuck in my eyes,
I felt a hand grab tight on my arm.
I stared up to see,
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The most beautiful face,
had come to save me from harm.
Now I sleep soundly at night,
Knowing life will be fine,
having my brave guardian near.
When I grow old,
I want to be like her,
So strong, so wise, so dear.
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Home
I can feel the relief and warmth wash over me as I cruise down the final stretch,
Home is beckoning me to return to its doors once again.
I watch the shadows trickle over my hood and into my windows,
As I slowly roll down memory lane.
Every mailbox, every street sign has a place in my mind.
I hear the old sounds of ice cream trucks singing their songs,
Calling all my friends to share a cold, sweet, treat on the hot sidewalk curb.
The houses are still the same but with new decks and fresh coats of paint,
Hues that remind me of pretty spring nail polishes I wore as a kid.
I can see the stone trail that leads to my childhood years,
The gray gravel sprawling its way to the porch,
Always my welcome mat before reaching homes threshold.
I can hear my mom calling for me to come in the house,
Dinner would be ready, soon and I was the key to help get things going.
My dad would be sitting on his lazy chair with our cat,
Equipped with a small bag of treats nearby for him to vie for her affection.
My brothers would be sitting in the playroom with their video games,
And I hear their childish squeals to referee the game because one is always cheating.
I reach for the rusty gold knob of my parents back door,
And feel the chipped paint under my fingers.
My feet touch the carpet,
But instead of new, flush padding,
Theres worn fabric showing its years of use and service to my family.
My dad is on his lazy chair,
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With the ball of fur frittering away on his lap,
While my mother is in the kitchen smiling, and waiting for me.
My heart is in my throat throbbing with joy,
The years have treated her well and she hasnt f orgotten me.
My brothers roll up in their new four wheeled chariots,
To hug me tight enough to squish a bear.
After years spent away thinking of this day,
Ive finally come home from the war.
No more cold nights sitting on my old bunk,
writing my promises to see my family again.
My face starts to swell and my cheeks crease into a smile,
My breath releases an exhausted sigh of relief.
Im home, Im finally home; I never want to go away again.
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The Dream
I wake up in the middle of the night,Plastered in my clothing, covered with heavy beads of sweat.My heart is thudding through my chest,My head still slightly spinning as I stare about my bed.
I went back there, to the fields of war,Where my brothers and sisters once laid.I can feel a sting of horror knowing,They were unable to get up again.
I can still hear the screams echoing in my ears,The cries of rage and shouts of fear.Conscious of the rhythm of rounds pumping through the air,With the earth shaking as mortars meld with the earth.
My blood stirs through my veins,As the ground begins to quake beneath me.A dark odor of burning flesh rises to my nose,And my cheeks ripple with the weight of my sinking stride.
The eerie scent of burning brass steals its way in to my snout,
As small drops of blood drip slowly on to my hand.
I cling to the shoulders of my heroes,Aching to feel my feet graze over the soil and sink in to my boots.My eyes become heavy and tainted with the color of red,And I feel the weight of my body sink in to my bed.
This is when I wake from my hell,My body in one piece, my mind lost and a prisoner of war.I sit in my bed soaked in old tears,because the ghosts in my dreams still taunt me with death.
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My True Love
As I drive down the dusty, trail that leads to the country,My fingers fumble to find the little black knob of my stereo.I hear my favorite song playing softly under the sound of my engine,And I know the pretty words were written just for me.
I hear the strum of the guitar,The pluck of his fingers picking the tune out of the guitar.His words sweep over his soft, supple lips,Finding their way to the shores of my ears.
I feel the hot, torn leather under my legs,The beads of sweat rolling down the back of my neck.The music has seduced me, and I sit in a love-struck gaze,Driving aimless down the gray, ash covered lane in my old, beat-up Chevy.
My senses tingle and dance with the rhythm of the sound,My fingers tapping on the top of my silver wheel.If I ever declare one love in this riddled life of mine,I declare music the thief of my heart; for I am completely in love.
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The Will
Danny sat down and slumped back in to the green leather chair that sat so irksomely in the
attorneys office. This putrid shade of pea green and the hardness of the leather annoyed Danny the
more he looked at it and felt it under his legs. The chair was meant to look comfortable and inviting, but
it wasnt. Its not when youre sitting there, grief stricken, waiting to hear your grandmothers final will
being read to you and all you can think about his how much your ass hurts in this stupid green chair.
Danny almost wished the chair were softer and a prettier shade just so the room seemed a little less
depressing; or maybe so he could focus on something else.
Holly came strutting in to the room. She was wearing a blowy white top that she tried to tuck in
to the dark gray skirt she was wearing. Danny couldnt help but notice his sister battering her fat eye
lids at the attorney as she sauntered up to the chair at the corner of his desk. Dannys thoughts nearly
crept out of his mouth as he thought, What a slut; she needs to be fixed or put out her misery.
Holly is Dannys sister, yet they couldnt be any more different. Holly was the older of the two
and was always their parents favorite. She was blessed with the bright blonde hair and blue eyes that
sent everyone wild over her as an infant. People, particularly men, flocked to her for years and she got
accustomed to be taken care of and babied. She struggled with this when she started to put on weight.
Her thyroid began to act up when she was about twenty-two and she blew up like a big, fat balloon.
Danny couldnt help, but to think it served her right.
Danny, on the other hand, was the younger of the two and was always scrawny, always homely
looking. He did his best with his grades in school and always helped his parents around the house. Their
parents fought and his dad beat his mom nightly. Danny would pick up the shattered pieces of their
trailer in the morning to try and win one of their favors. It never worked though, they hated Danny. He
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was ugly, and pathetic and always sick. He was too high maintenance for them and he didnt stand up
to his fathers expectations of a man.
His dad left them when he was 12. Good riddance you lousy son of a bitch, Danny thought,
go jump in front of a tra in.
As Danny sat in the awful chair, he watched Holly as she sat down on her equally ugly wingchair
and she leaned over the dark wood desk to rest her elbow on the edge. She leaned just enough so she
could cup her chin and show a little bit of cleavage. She crossed her legs, but not like ladies do with
manners and discretion. She stared the down the attorneys face until he finally lifted his long beaked
nose so his eyes met hers. She said, So what did I get?
Really? Really, you greedy, selfish bitch? What do YOU get? What did you do? Dannys
thoughts raged in the back of his mind as he bit his lip and tried not throw his knuckles up to his teeth to
bite on.
Danny and Hollys grandmother, Ella, passed away four days ago. It was quite sudden actually.
Poor Ella died of a massive heart attack, but its what she wanted though. Their grandfather, Clarence,
passed away back in 2008 on New Years Eve and Ellas been waiting for her day to die ever since.
Danny loved his grandmother more than he could ever express and often regrets not telling her so more
often.
Dannys head suddenly sunk a little lower as he basked in a few fond memories that he had with
her as a boy. Holly noticed and immediately spat from her hideously fat lips. Whats wrong with yo u,
pussy boy? Stop acting like such a wuss and stop being so pathetic.
Holly uncrossed her legs and took her elbow off the desk as she rolled her eyes as she sat back
into her chair. She let out a snarky sigh and let her mouth hang open slightly. This meant she was going
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to start talking again; GOD Danny hated it when she talked. His brain hurt when she talked, dear God
make her decide to shut her mouth.
He was such a mommas boy, Holly said. Actually, he was grandmas boy. Danny always ran
from the house whenever a man needed to do work around the house; whenever a man needed to
stand up to Dad. Danny used to just let him hit him, over and over again. All Dad wanted him to do was
stand up for himself and he was such a coward; he still is. Maybe he wouldnt be so ugly if he didnt let
Dad hit him so much. She snaps her head over her shoulder just enough to deliver a death glare in
Dannys direction.
The only reason hes here is because he sucked up to Grandmom so much when he should
have bee n home helping us.
She looks back at the attorney who is glaring at her with a pathetic, fearful look, uncertain if he
should stop her or let her finish her rant. She continues, Grandmom was a sucker for pussy boys like
Danny. She could get him to d o whatever she wanted. Hed mow her grass, cook for her, and clean her
house, Hell! Hed walk her dogs for her so she didnt have to! No wonder that old bitch got to be so fat!
She didnt do anything!
This woman has no class. Danny originally had his hands clapped together and sitting on his lap.
The entire time Holly spoke he could feel his fingers creep apart and make their way to the edges of the
ugly, green seat. Now, with sweaty palms, Danny began to feel the pressure under his finger tips from
squeezing the seat. He wanted to jump up and lash out at Holly, he wanted to hit her and tell her to
shut up. He didnt need to stand up to Dad, Dad didnt care about him. He needed to stand up to Holly,
but his mother wouldnt let him.
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Dannys grandmo ther protected him from the beatings his father would deliver on him. All the
while Holly stayed at the house and remained untouched and prized by all. Well, sort of untouched.
One night, after Grandmom dropped Danny back at his parents house Danny hea rd a noise come from
the back of the trailer. He noticed the only car home was his Dads. Danny walked in to the house and
crept around so no one knew he was there and he heard Hollys voice come from the back out of
nowhere, but it was soft, like whisper ing. Holly didnt get hit, but she didnt get spared. Seemed like
she wanted it so why care about her anyway.
Danny remembered all the days and nights hed run like the wind, head split open, blood
dripping from the corners of his ears and eyes. Hed run to his grandmoms doors in tears. No one
cared, no one stopped him. So Danny worked. He worked all day and all night to get stronger and to
get healthier. Danny felt safe at grandmoms house, but he also felt loved. Love was something that
was rare in his family when it came to Danny. He was always too skinny, too pathetic, too ugly, not
enough of a man.
Grandmom didnt think so.
She had bad knees and a bad back after five children and taking care of Danny and Hollys
grandfather. He had fallen down the cellar stairs once while trying to replace a window air conditioning
unit. Who puts a window above a set of cellar stairs anyway? Danny thought. Pop pop didnt see the
accident coming, nor did anyone else, but he started to fade quickly afterwards. He had several major
heart attacks which he recovered from pretty well. The stroke is what did him in. His whole right side
went bad and he couldnt walk anymore, he couldnt even help himself in the bathroom.
Dannys grandmother had stepped up, as she felt any loving wife should, and carried her
beloved Clarence around the house and pushed him in his wheel chair for anything he needed. Shed
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stay up all hours of the night playing with puzzles and crosswords until Clarence could fall asleep. She
watched him die for 10 years, but never once neglected her duties to him.
Danny saw his Grandmother fading too. Once Pop pop died she stopped walking as much and
her knees started to rot away for good. Her back went bad and she couldnt sit up straig ht anymore.
She had difficulty breathing because she gained so much weight and was always hot.
Danny didnt visit her just to hide anymore. Danny had graduated high school by the time his
grandfather passed away. He had two children with a wife that d idnt love him and wouldnt sleep with
him. She thought he was ugly, too. Danny thought, She wanted this; what else am I supposed to do?
Now, instead of running from his father, he ran from his wife. Sometimes hed take his kids
when his wife, Tracy, would let him have them. Danny would cook his grandmother a good meal
because otherwise shed fry something that didnt take too long because she couldnt stand too long.
Danny wanted to keep her around; she was all he had left.
Dannys grandfather had to go in to a nursing home the last two years of his life. Ella couldnt
carry her cherished husband anymore and she couldnt stand long enough to cook or feed him. After
Pop pop died, it seemed that the avaricious nursing home couldnt wait until Dannys poor grandmother
died. When she did, they possessed the house to pay off his grandparents debt. Those bastards.
Danny vowed to find the money to buy the house back and raise his kid there one day; even if his wife
wasnt along for the ride.
Holly was watching Danny as he sat in his thoughts. Her face started to get puffy and red and
her eyes started to squint as she starred at him. Will you quit moping, you pussy!
Danny shot her an evil look and the attorney practically shriveled in to his seat. Ella used to say
that Dannys glare was fierce and if looks could kill...
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At this point, Danny wished his hate filled glare would.
Surely the attorney felt the tension in the room between the two. He quickly grabbed the
papers belonging to the will with his long, narrow fingers and shuffled them noisily to get their
attention. He coughed a little as if he were trying to clear his clogged up throat.
Holly shot the attorney an accidental grimace and quickly regained her composure as if she were
in fact, a real lady. She sat delicately back in the chair, but Danny heard the farts and cries from the
leather as her weight pressed on the seat. He had to fight a little bit of a chuckle and the urge to call her
a cow.
The attorney looked up at them and decided they were ready to hear their grandmothers final
words. To Danny, the sentences were long and drawn out. It felt like the attorney was reading slowly
and intentionally, as if making fun of him that his dear grandmother was dead.
Holly sat there, with her greedy blue eyes shifting between the attorney and the will, waiting.
The last page came up and the attorney nervously placed it on top of the rest. He read slower, and
deliberately, his brown began to crease and a little drop of sweat formed at the edge of his left ear.
Danny stared at him and he knew what it was; it was fear. Something didnt seem right. The
attorney read the last paragraph and with a slight stutter he said, And to my..my..my beloved Danny,
my only grandson. I leave everything to you. I leave my furniture, my car, my pets, my paintings, my
plants, my possessions.
Danny stirred a little in his seat and Hollys eye brows started to raise.
I also leave you with my bank accounts and all of its contents. Daniel Clarence Fogarty is the
only person entitled to anything in my will and this is non-negotiable in court and cannot and will not be
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overturned by any family member or any person who objects or thinks otherwise. This is my final will
and it will not be compromised read the attorney.
Hollys face turned beat red, a hideous and unflattering shade of red for her. She spit at the
attorney, Well it makes no difference, she had no money anyway!
The attorney cleared his throat once more and stuttered out a few more words. He s aid,
Actually, m..m..miss, your grandmother left Danny a little over fa..fa$500,000.
Dannys once slumped figure sat up a little straighter and he could feel a large breath of air
crawl in to his lungs as if begging him to scream and jump for joy. What a surprise!
Holly screamed and squealed. Boy did she cry and good riddance too! That girl needed to feel
what let down and disappointment felt like; serves her right!
Danny sat in his hard leather chair, panting a little, but trying to contain himse lf so he didnt pee
in his trousers or jump at the attorney to hug him. Dannys eyes glazed over as he tried to stand, he
couldnt focus on anything, and he was lost in the moment and unsure if it was real or a dream. He had
to clutch the side of desk for support because he actually thought he might faint.
Holly charged the door cursing and screaming, That old bitch and Ill kill her! Ill bring her
back to life and Ill kill her!
After Holly disappeared through the door, Danny reaches one hand as best he could across the
desk to shake the attorneys hand. Danny felt relief once Holly was gone from the room and he hated
hearing her talk about Ella the way she did, even if Ella was dead. So, what now? Danny pondered his
thoughts, and as if the attorn ey read his mind, the attorney dropped Dannys hands and made an effort
to look him in the eyes.
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The attorney had stopped shaking and Danny was impressed with his bravery when dealing with
Holly; she can be intimidating. The attorney gently looked at Danny; he recognized the pain of being the
underdog and bullied, and said, What are you going to do, son?
Danny paused and stood by the edge of the desk for a moment. When he looked up, the
attorney noticed Dannys face had filled with color. His cheeks we re rosy and his eyes lit up like a kid on
Christmas. He said, Im going to buy her house. Im going to get it back. Im going to go get my kids,
were going to move in and Im going to raise my kids there. Just like she would have wanted. Im going
to get it back. Danny finished his sentence with his lips resting in a crooked smile.
The attorney sighed, Im happy for you, son. I really am.
Danny knew he meant it. The only question Danny could conjure in his swirling mind was, What
next? Now what ? Holy crap! What do I do? Who do I tell?
The attorney clutched his weathered brief case and motioned Danny towards to door. Danny
shifts away from the green chair to the attorneys side and as he shuffles in his pocket for his keys he
look at the attorn ey and says, Need a drink? My treat.
The attorney stutters in his step a little and smiles a soft smile on his aging face. The unexpected
gesture of kindness was heartwarming after the last thirty minutes of Dannys office visit. This time, in a
slight draw, the attorney said, I think wed both benefit from a drink son. Lets celebrate.
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Whats mine is mine
I drive home the same way every day; it doesnt take me very long. I follow the highway out of
town, drive through the new suburb built just on the outskirts, and finally down the four mile stretch
that lands me in the cul-de-sac just in front of the house.
I see the car belonging to Robert, my Superman, and the man of my dreams sitting in the freshly
paved drive- way. Hes always home before I get there. The lawn has been freshly mowed by the
gardener that maintains the houses in the white picket fence community. He just put in new posies, the
blue and yellow ones, to try and keep the yard bright and fresh for spring. I cant help but feel annoyed
with him because I want daffodils in the spring, but posies will do for now.
The bright red door is wide open so I can see clearly in to the house. The floors are polished and
the wood is gleaming softly in the afternoon sunlight. The cleaning lady came today and I feel a sigh of
relief escape my lungs. I hate polishing wood floors; it makes my back hurt.
The twins, Jackie and Janie, had a sleep over this weekend making an awful mess and they
scuffed up the wood pretty bad. There were twelve kids total for the twins birthday party wreaking
havoc on the house. They screamed loudly all night, skidding from one end of the house to the other in
their pajamas armed with Nerf guns and sling shots. I wanted to be angry at them. They broke several of
their toys and squealed loudly for what felt like an eternity, but kids will be kids. Why waste my energy
on being angry; I still love them anyway.
Then I look up to the second floor as I stop slowly in front of the house and shift my gears in to
park. I see the curtains parted neatly to the side of each glass rectangle, tied carefully in the middle
creating a picturesque image of domestic life.
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I continue to survey the windows until I find what Im looking for. I see what I despise the most;
Madeline. She is just sitting there, so prim and perfect, by the bedside folding the mans drawers and
tucking them neatly in to the white dresser drawers. Her auburn hair tucked carefully behind her ears
and I can hear her humming a song faintly through the window. I should be folding his clothing. I see
the thin, gold band resting loosely on her ring finger and snicker at its pitiful presence.
Madeline ruined everything. My happiness was Roberts destiny, not hers, and all he had to do
was love me. Instead, she decided to come traipsing along. Hours, days and weeks of carefully planned
encounters and casual water cooler talk at the office; all for nothing.
I watched her gracefully slink around the bedroom as if folding laundry were the most erotic
thing she was capable of doing for a man. She wasnt right for Robert; how could he have been so
blind? He must hate her, too.
I used to stare at him over my cubicle. I always felt awkward with my big black rimmed glasses
and my plain brown eyes. My vision is awful so I had no choice when it came to my eyewear selection.
Combine that with my parents poor choice when naming their baby girl Lorna. I hate the name Lorna,
its so plain. It sounds better, though, when its written next to Roberts. Robert and Lorna McCay; how
dreamy.
I couldnt help staring at him as he walked by me every day. Robert always smiled at me and he
liked to compliment my choice of perfume or jewelry for the day; he made me feel special. He used his
special deep voice when he talked to me and said my name; I could tell. No one ever complimented me;
not until Robert that is.
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He was so sweet to me. I used to try and drop things in front of his cubicle from time to time
just so hed pick them up and I could feel his eyes gaze in to mine. I wanted him to see me and I wanted
him to want me. I knew we were meant to be together. He must have felt it, too.
I knew my plan to gain his love was working when we walked beside each other to our cars one
evening. He smiled and waved good bye, but his wave was different. It was different because I felt him
beckoning me, calling me to follow him without saying a single word. So I did. I followed him in my car
down the highway out of town, through the new suburb sitting on the outskirts, and down the four mile
stretch that led to the cul-de-sac. I drove up to the house to watch him get out of his car and fumble for
his keys to get inside. I find his clumsy hands adorable.
I couldnt go in yet, I knew that. My time was coming; he wanted me to wait for the perfect
moment. I didnt want to ruin this. He was too perfect and everything needs to be that way. So I
follow ed him every day; waiting for my signal and leaving in just enough time so I didnt sit too long in
anticipation.
I had one issue. Every day I also watched Madeline come home. I watched her light blue
minivan pull on to the same dark tarmac and watch a s she and the kids piled out in the yard. Shed
fumble for her keys and slip in to the house before the kids could catch up to her and ask her to stay
outside. She was so selfish for not playing with those kids; Id treat them better than she ever could. I
know the twins would love me more as a mother.
Madeline had to go. I dont understand why she hasnt left already. It was clear to me she didnt
belong there and Robert didnt want her there. Robert wanted me. I watched everyday as this creature
lingered in my home; talked to the kids, our kids, and made love to the man I was meant to be with.
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I reach for my keys to switch off my ignition and I silently reach across my leather trimmed seats
for my dusty old purse. I wish Id keep this thing more organi zed because I get so tired of rummaging
through empty gum wrappers and crumpled up balls of gas receipts.
I found what Im looking for. I know because I can feel the size of the handle in my tiny grip. I
pull it out and tuck it carefully under the waistline of my drab, brown skirt. I reach cautiously for the car
door; not out of fear, but out of care and concern to keep quiet and not wake up the neighbors. Im
going to live here soon and I dont want to start off on the wrong foot with them.
I creep out of my car, careful not to slam the door, and steal my way across the cul-de-sac
pavement. I carefully tip toe on to the side walk that leads to the front door and I lean against the glass
so slightly; just enough to hear the whispers of after dinner talk. I reach for the gold, bent handle of the
door and carefully wedge my body in to the entrance so I can silently enter the home that is rightfully
mine.
The twins are in bed. They are always in bed early during the week because of school and
soccer practice.
I step and sway silently through the hallway, avoiding the rickety cracks in the wood, until I
come to the edge of the archway leading in to the dining room. I knew theyd be in there; Ive watched
them eat dinner while I hid in the shadows once before. Madeline chews like a cow and I could see
Roberts look of disgust. I knew what he wanted me to see and I knew what I had to do.
I take a deep breath, hold it tightly, as I boldly place one foot in front of the other and bear my
presence so they both can see me. I fumble and grab the thick, hard handle of the 10 inch steel blade
stuffed carefully in the back of my skirt. I can feel my eyes glaring into hers menacingly and I feel my
cheeks lift in to a dark smile. She knows whats coming and barely stifles a scream.
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I look back on that night fondly. He knew what was coming, too. However after all this time, I
still dont recall him looking as upset about it as she did. He acted his part and shed his false tears as a
courtesy, but he knew he was mine.
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Workshop Drafts for Class
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Youthful Memories
A festival each year,
Filled with laughter and cheer,
To celebrate the seasons delights.
Black berry jam and honey cured ham,
Were the most prized little treats to bite.
One hot summer evening,
A whir filled the air,
With sounds that would deafen the dead.
A cloud swept over,
Hiding the sun,
and filled my body with dread.
I ran for my mother,
Looking for comfort,
And hope that everything was alright.
But when I looked in the sky,
To my absolute surprise,
I saw our car take flight.
As I fought back the tears,
that were stuck in my eyes,
I felt a hand grab tight on my arm.
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I starred up to see,
The most beautiful face,
had come to save me from harm.
Now I sleep soundly at night,
Knowing life will be fine,
having my brave guardian near.
When I grow old,
I want to be like her,
So strong, so wise, so dear.
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Home
I can feel the relief and warmth wash over me as I cruise down the final stretch,
Home is beckoning me to return to its doors once again.
I watch the shadows trickle over my hood and into my windows,
As I slowly roll down memory lane.
Every mailbox, every street sign has a place in my mind.
I hear the old sounds of ice cream trucks singing their songs,
Calling all my friends to share a cold, sweet, treat on the hot sidewalk curb.
The houses are still the same but with new decks and a fresh coat of paint,
Hues that remind me of pretty spring nail polishes I once had as a kid.
I can see the stone trail that leads to my childhood years,
The gray gravel sprawling its way to the porch,
Always my welcome mat before reaching homes threshold.
I can hear my mom calling for me to come in the house,
Dinner would be ready soon and I was the key to help get ready.
My dad would be sitting on his lazy chair with our cat,
Equipped with a small bag of treats nearby for him to vie for her affection.
My brothers would be sitting in the playroom with their video games,
And I hear their childish squeals to referee the game because one is always cheating.
I reach for the rusty gold knob of my parents back door,
And the satisfaction of belonging there consumes my body and soul.
My feet touch the carpet,
But instead of new, flush padding,
Theres worn fabric showing its years of use and service to my family.
My dad is on his lazy chair,
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With the ball of fur frittering away on his lap,
While my mother is in the kitchen smiling, and waiting for me.
My heart is in my throat throbbing with joy,
The years have treated her well and she hasnt forgotten me.
My brothers roll up in their new four wheeled chariots,
To hug me tight enough to squish a bear.
Im home again and I feel so at peace.
After years spent away thinking of this day,
I feel tears form in my eyes knowing how much Ive longed to come back.
I grew up here, I b elong here; Im happy to be home.
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Nightmare
I wake up in the middle of the night,Plastered in clothing, covered with heavy beads of sweat.My heart is thudding through my chest,
My head still slightly spinning as I stare about my bed.
I went back there, to the fields of war,Where my brothers and sisters once laid.I can feel a sting of horror, knowing,They were unable to get up again.
I can still hear the screams echoing in my ears,The cries of rage and shouts of fear.Conscious of the rhythm of rounds pumping through the air,With the earth shaking as mortars meld with the earth.
My blood stirs through my veins,As the ground begins to quake violently beneath me.
A dark odor of burning flesh rises to my nose,
And my cheeks ripple with the weight of my sinking stride.
The eerie scent of burning brass steals its way in to my snout,As small drops of blood drip slowly on to my hand.
I dangle and cling to the shoulders of my heroes,Aching to feel my feet graze over the soil and sink in to my boots.My eyes become heavy and tainted with the color of red,
And I feel the weight of my body sink in to my bed.
This is when I wake from my hell,My body in one piece, my mind lost and a prisoner of war.
I sit in my bed soaked in old tears,because the ghosts in my dreams still taunt me with death.
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My True Love
As I drive down the dusty, trail that leads to the country,My fingers fumble to find the little black knob of my stereo.I hear my favorite song playing softly under the sound of my engine,
And I know the pretty words were written just for me.
I hear the strum of the guitar,The pluck of his fingers picking the tune out of the guitar.His words sweep carelessly over his soft, supple lips,Finding their way to the shores of my ears.
I feel the hot, torn leather under the skin of my legs,The beads of sweat rolling down the back of my neck.The music has seduced me and I sit in a love struck gaze,Driving aimless down the gray, ash covered lane in my old, beat-up Chevy.
My senses tingle and dance with the rhythm of the sound,My fingers tapping on the top of my silvered steering wheel.If I ever declare one love in this riddled life of mine,I declare music the thief of my heart; for I am completely in love.
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The Ugly Green Chair
Danny sat down and slumped back in to the green leather chair that sat so irksomely in the
attorneys office. This putrid shade of pea green and the hardness of the leather annoyed Danny the
more he looked at it and felt it under his legs. The chair was meant to look comfortable and inviting, but
it wasnt. Its not when youre sitting there, grief stricken, waiting to hear your grandmothers final will
being read to you and all you can think about his how much your ass hurts in this stupid green chair.
Danny almost wished the chair were softer and a prettier shade just so the room seemed a little less
depressing; or maybe so he could focus on something else.
Holly came strutting in to the room. She was wearing a blowy white top that she tried to tuck in
to the dark gray skirt she was wearing. Danny couldnt help but notice his sister battering her fat eye
lids at the attorney as she sauntered up to the chair at the corner of his desk. Dannys thoughts nearly
crept out of his mouth as he thought, What a slut; she needs to be fixed or put out her misery.
Holly and Danny are brother and sister yet they couldnt be any more different then they are.
Holly was the older of the two and was always their parents favorite. She was blessed with the bright
blonde hair and blue eyes that sent everyone wild over her as an infant. People, particularly men,
flocked to her for years and she got accustomed to be taken care of and babied. She struggled with this
when she started to put on weight. Her thyroid began to act up when she was about twenty-two and
she blew up like a big, fat balloon. Danny couldnt help, but to think it served her right.
Danny, on the other hand, was the younger of the two and was always scrawny, always homely
looking. He did his best with his grades in school and always helped his parents around the house. Their
parents fought and his dad beat his mom nightly. Danny would pick up the shattered pieces of their
trailer in the morning to try and win one of their favors. It never worked though, they hated Danny. He
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was ugly, and pathetic and always sick. He was too high maintenance for them and he didnt stand up
to his fathers expectations of a man.
His dad left them when he was 12. Good riddance you lousy son of a bitch, Danny thought,
go die on a train track.
As Danny sat in the awful chair, he watched Holly as she sat down and leaned over the dark
wood desk to rest her elbow on the edge. She leaned just enough so she could cup her chin and show a
little bit of cleavage. She crossed her legs, but wide enough so you could see up her skirt if you wanted
to look. She stared the down the attorneys face until he finally lifted his long beaked nose so his eyes
met hers. She said, So what did I get?
Really? Really, you greedy, selfish bitch? What do YOU get? What did you do? Dannys
thoughts raged in the back of his mind as he bit his lip and tried not throw his knuckles up to his teeth to
bite on.
Danny and Hollys grandmother, Ella, passed away four days ago; quite sudden actually. Died of
a massive heart attack. Its what she wanted though. Their grandfather, Clarence, passed away back in
2008 on New Years Eve, and Ellas been waiting for her day to die ever since. Danny loved his
grandmother more than he could ever express and often regrets not telling her so more often.
Dannys head suddenly sunk a little lower as he basked in a few fond memories that he had with
her as a boy. Holly notice d and immediately spat from her hideously fat lips. Whats wrong with you,
pussy boy? Stop acting like such a wuss and stop being so pathetic. That whole emo trend died out
years ago, or at least it should have; stop being so dramatic.
Holly uncrossed her legs and took her elbow off the desk as she rolled her eyes and sat back into
her chair. She let out a snarky sigh and let her mouth hang open slightly. This meant she was going to
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start talking again; GOD Danny hated it when she talked. His brain hurt when she talked, dear God make
her decide to shut her mouth.
He was such a mommas boy, Holly said. Actually, he was grandmas boy. Danny always ran
from the house whenever a man needed to do work around the house; whenever a man needed to
stand up to Dad. Danny used to just let him hit him, over and over again. All Dad wanted him to do was
stand up for himself and he was such a coward; he still is. Maybe he wouldnt be so ugly if he didnt let
Dad hit him so much. She snaps her head over h er shoulder just enough to deliver a death glare in
Dannys direction.
The only reason hes here is because he sucked up to Grandmom so much when he should
have been home helping us. She looks back at the attorney who is glaring at her with a patheti c,
fearful look. She continues, Grandmom was a sucker for pussy boys like Danny. She could get him to
do whatever she wanted. Hed mow her grass, cook for her, and clean her house, Hell! Hed walk her
dogs for her so she didnt have to! No wonder that old bitch got to be so fat! She didnt do anything!
Danny originally had his hands clapped together and sitting on his lap. The entire time Holly
spoke he could feel his fingers creep apart and make their way to the edges of the seat. Now, his palms
sweaty, Danny began to feel the pressure under his finger tips from squeezing the seat. He wanted to
jump up and lash out at Holly, he wanted to hit her and tell her to shut up. He didnt need to stand up
to Dad, Dad didnt care about him. He needed to stand up to Holly, but his mother wouldnt let him.
Dannys grandmother protected him from the beatings his father would deliver on him. All the
while Heather stayed at the house and remained untouched and prized by all. Well, sort of untouched.
One ni ght, after Grandmom dropped Danny back at his parents house Danny heard a noise come from
the back of the trailer. He noticed the only car home was his Dads. Danny walked in to the house and
crept around so no one knew he was there and he heard Hollys voice come from the back out of
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nowhere, but it was soft, like whispering. Holly didnt get hit, but she didnt get spared. Seemed like
she wanted it so why care about her anyway.
Danny remembered all the days and nights hed run like the wind, head spl it open, blood
dripping from the corners of his ears and eyes. Hed run to his grandmoms doors in tears. No one
cared, no one stopped him. So Danny worked. He worked all day and all night to get stronger and to
get healthier. Danny felt safe at grand moms house, but he also felt loved. Love was something that
was rare in his family when it came to Danny. He was always too skinny, too pathetic, too ugly, not
enough of a man.
Grandmom didnt think so.
She had bad knees and a bad back after five child ren and taking care of Danny and Hollys
grandfather. He had fallen down the cellar stairs once while trying to replace a window air conditioning
unit. Who puts a window above a set of cellar stairs anyway? Danny thought. Pop pop didnt see the
accident coming, nor did anyone else, but he started to fade quickly afterwards. He had several major
heart attacks which he recovered from pretty well. The stroke is what did him in. His whole right side
went bad and he couldnt walk anymore, he couldnt eve n help himself in the bathroom.
Dannys grandmother had stepped up, as she felt any loving wife should, and carried her
beloved Clarence around the house and pushed him in his wheel chair for anything he needed. Shed
stay up all hours of the night playing with puzzles and crosswords until Clarence could fall asleep. She
watched him die for 10 years, but never once neglected her duties to him.
Danny saw his Grandmother fading too. Once Pop pop died she stopped walking as much and
her knees started t o rot away for good. Her back went bad and she couldnt sit up straight anymore.
She had difficulty breathing because she gained so much weight and was always hot.
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Danny didnt visit her just to hide anymore. Danny had graduated high school by the tim e his
grandfather passed away. He had two children with a wife that didnt love him and wouldnt sleep with
him. She thought he was ugly, too. Danny thought, Its her own fault for getting knocked up then.
Now, instead of running from his father, he ran from his wife. Sometimes hed take his kids
when his wife, Tracy, would let him have them. Danny would cook his grandmother a good meal
because otherwise shed fry something that didnt take too long because she couldnt stand too long.
Danny wanted to keep her around; she was all he had left.
Dannys grandfather had to go in to a nursing home the last two years of his life. Ella couldnt
carry her cherished husband anymore and she couldnt stand long enou gh to cook or feed him. After
Pop pop died, it seemed that the avaricious nursing home couldnt wait until Dannys poor grandmother
died. When she did, they possessed the house to pay off his grandparents debt. Those bastards.
Danny vowed to find the money to buy the house back and raise his kid there one day; even if his wife
wasnt along for the ride.
Holly was watching Danny as he sat in his thoughts. Her face started to get puffy and red and
her eyes started to squint as she starred at him. Will you quit mopping you pussy!
Danny shot her an evil look. His grandmother used to say that look could kill; at that point
Danny wished it would.
Surely the attorney felt the tension in the room between the two. He quickly grabbed the
papers belonging to the will with his long, narrow fingers and shuffled them noisily to get their
attention. He coughed a little as if he were trying to clear his clogged up throat.
Holly shot the attorney an accidental grimace and quickly regained her composure as if she were
in fact, a real lady. She sat delicately back in the chair, but Danny heard the farts and cries from the
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leather as her weight pressed on the seat. He had to fight a little bit of a chuckle and the urge to call her
a cow.
The attorney looked up at the m and decided they were ready to hear their grandmothers final
words. To Danny, the sentences were long and drawn out. It felt like the attorney was reading slowly
and intentionally, as if making fun of him that his dear grandmother was dead.
Heather sat there, with her greedy blue eyes shifting between the attorney and the will, waiting.
The last page came up and the attorney nervously placed it on top of the rest. He read slower, and
deliberately, his brown began to crease and a little drop of sweat formed at the edge of his left ear.
Danny stared at him and he knew what it was; it was fear. Something didnt seem right. The
attorney read the last paragraph and with a slight stutter he said, And to my beloved Danny, my only
grandson. I leave everything to you. I leave my furniture, my car, my pets, my paintings, my plants, my
possessions. I also leave you with my bank accounts and all of its contents. Daniel Clarence Fogarty is
the only person entitled to anything in my will and this is non-negotiable in court and cannot and will
not be overturned by any family member or any person who objects or thinks otherwise. This is my final
will and it will not be compromised.
Hollys face turned beat red, a hideous and unflattering shade of red for her. She spit at the
attorney, Well it makes no difference, she had no money anyway!
The attorney cleared his throat once more and stuttered out a few more words. He said,
Actually, miss, your grandmother left Danny a little over $500,000.
Dannys once slumped figure sat up a little straighter and he could feel a large breath of air
crawl in to his lungs as if begging him to scream and jump for joy. What a surprise!
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Heather screamed and squealed, much like a banshee that was just chased from hell. Boy did
she cry and good riddance too! That girl needed to feel what let down and disappointment felt like;
serves her right!
Danny sat in his hard leather chair, panting a little, but trying to contain himself so he didnt pee
in his trousers or jump at th e attorney to hug him. Dannys eyes glazed over as he tried to stand, he
couldnt focus on anything, and he was lost in the moment and unsure if it was real or a dream. He had
to clutch the side of desk for support because he actually thought he might faint.
Holly charged the door cursing and screaming, That old bitch and Ill kill her, Ill bring her
back to life and Ill kill her!
After the fat, miserable cow had gone; Danny reaches one hand as best he could across the desk
to shake the attorneys hand. He was partially glad because his evil sister was gone from the rom and he
hated hearing her talk about Ella that way, even if she was dead. Danny was also glad because now he
has the money to do something with his life.
The attorney had stopped shaking and Danny congratulated him on his bravery and composure
when dealing with Holly; she can be intimidating. The attorney gently looked at Danny, as if he felt his
pain of being the underdog and least wanted, and said, What are you going to do, son?
Danny paused and stood by the edge of the desk for a moment. When he looks up, his face had
filled with color. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. He said, Im going to
buy her house. Im going to get it back. Im going to go get my kids, were going to move in and Im
going to raise my kids there. Just like she would have wanted. Im going to get it back. Danny finished
his sentence with his lips resting in a crooked smile.
The attorney dropped Dannys hand and said, Im happy for you, son. I really am.
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Danny knew he meant it. A thought flashed across his mind and he quick looked up at the
lawyer and stopped him before he left the office. He said, Hey, you wouldnt happen to know a good
divorce lawyer would you? I need an ex- wife and custody of my kids and Ive got the money to pay for
it.
With that, the attorney and Danny shared what his mother would have called a shit eating
grin and a small, but deserved laugh. Danny turned and walked out of the office, shifting in his pocket
for his car keys. He stood a little straighter, walked a little prouder, and held his head up a little more as
he looked out the door. Danny shook his head a little and thought, Ella, you sly old lady, I miss you.
He left the of fice and that ugly green chair behind which, surprisingly, wasnt so annoying anymore.
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Whats mine is mine
I drive home the same way every day. I follow the highway out of town, drive through the new suburb
built just on the outskirts, and finally down the four mile stretch that lands me in the cul-de-sac just in
front of the house.
I see the car belonging to the man of my drams sitting in the freshly paved drive- way. Hes always home
before I get there. The lawn has been freshly mowed by the gardener that maintains the houses in the
white picket fence community. He just put in new posies, the blue and yellow ones, to try and keep the
yard bright and fresh for spring. I cant help but feel annoyed with him because I want daffodils in the
spring, but posies will do for now.
The bright red door is wide open so I can see clearly in to the house. The floors are polished, the wood
gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. The cleaning lady came today; I am so relieved. The kids made a
horrid mess of the place this past weekend during their sleepover. Twelve little monsters running
around; I wanted to be angry at them. They broke several of their toys and squealed loudly all hours of
the night, but kids will be kids. I can never stay angry at them anyway.
Then I look up to the second floor as I stop slowly in front of the house and shift my gears in to park. I
see the curtains parted neatly to the side of each glass rectangle, tied carefully in the middle creating a
picturesque image of domestic life.
I continue to survey the windows until I find what Im looking for. I see the thing I despise the most; her.
Shes sitting there, so prim and perfect, by the bedside folding the mans drawers and tucking them
neatly in to the white dresser drawers. Her auburn hair tucked carefully behind her ears and I can hear
her humming a song faintly through the window. I should be folding his clothing.
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She ruined everything. My happiness was his destiny and all he had to do was love me, but she decided
to come traipsing along. Hours, days and weeks of carefully planned encounters and casual water cooler
talk at the office; all for nothing.
I used to stare at him over my cubicle. I was so awkward with my big black rimmed glasses and my plain
brown eyes staring at him as he walked by. Hed always smile at me and compliment my choice of
perfume or jewelry for the day; he made me feel special. No one ever compliments me. He was so
sweet to me. I used to try and drop things in front of his cubicle from time to time just so hed pick
them up and I could feel his eyes gaze in to mine. I wanted him to see me and I wanted him to want me.
I knew we were meant to be together.
I knew it was working when we walked to our cars one evening. He smiled and waved good bye, but his
wave was different. It was different because I felt him beckoning me, calling me to follow him. So I did.
I followed him in my car down the highway out of town, through the new suburb sitting on the outskirts,
and down the four mile stretch that lead to the cul-de-sac. I drove up to the house to watch him get out
of his car and fumble for his keys to get inside. I find his clumsy hands adorable.
I couldnt go in yet, I knew that. My time was coming; he wanted me to wait for the perfect moment. I
didnt want to ruin this. He was too perfect and everything needs to be that way. So I followed him
every day; wait ing for my signal and leaving in just enough time so I didnt sit too long in anticipation.
I had one issue. Every day I also watched her come home. I watched her light blue minivan packed full
of dirty, hyperactive kids pull on to the same dark tarmac . Shed fumble for her keys and slip in to the
house before the kids could catch up to her and ask her to stay outside. She was so selfish for not
playing with those kids; Id treat them better than she ever could. She had to go. Why wouldnt she just
lea ve already? It was clear to me she didnt belong there and he didnt want her there.
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I watched everyday as this creature lingered in my home; talked to my kids, made love to the man I was
meant to be with.
I reach for my keys to switch off my ignition and I silently reach across my leather trimmed seats for my
dusty old purse. I wish Id keep this thing more organized because I get so tired of rummaging through
empty gum wrappers and crumpled up balls of gas receipts.
I found what Im looking for. I kn ow because I can feel the size of the handle in my tiny grip. I pull it out
and tuck it carefully under the waistline in my skirt. I reach cautiously for the door; not out of fear, but
out of care and concern to keep quiet and not wake up the neighbors. I m going to live here soon and I
dont want to start off on the wrong foot with them.
I creep out of my car, careful not to slam the door, and steal my way across the cul-de-sac pavement. I
carefully tip toe on to the side walk that leads to the front door and I lean against the glass so slightly;
just enough to hear the whispers of after dinner talk. I reach for the gold, bent handle of the door and
carefully wedge my body in to the entrance so I can silently enter the home that is rightfully mine.
The k ids are in bed. They are always in bed early on the week days because of school and theyre
exhausted from soccer practice. I step and sway silently through the hallway, avoiding the rickety cracks
in the wood, until I come to the edge of the archway lea ding in to the dining room. I knew theyd be in
there.
I take a deep breath, hold it tightly, as I boldly place one foot in front of the other and bear my presence
so they both can see me. I grab the thick, hard handle of the 10 inch steel blade stuffed carefully in the
back of my skirt and I can feel my eyes glaring into hers menacingly. She knows whats coming.
He knew too. However, looking back after all this time, I dont recall him looking as upset about it as she
did. He knew he was mine.
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