The putrid purple of old bruises gleamed helplessly against the limpid replacements— it was all my fault. When you’re the middle child in a five-kid household, it’s not uncommon to be invisible most of the time. Older siblings and younger siblings join together which leaves you in the minority category. You get comfortable in the transparent safety net. However, there are times when the translucent mesh is snatched away, and you must transform into a better you that has a kaleidoscope of facets waiting to be carved out. This was one of those times. “Hi, we are from the Webb City Police Department; we were wondering if you could answer a few questions for us? It won’t take up much of your time, and then you can go back to class— okay?” a portly man said waving his notepad at a woman in a crisp pantsuit. My blood iced as her glacier orbs scanned my fidgeting, hoodie covered body. The woman nodded and scribbled in a notebook. 1, 2, 3, I breathed in time with the rough scratch of my nails against my flesh. 1… 2… 3… “Okay-” I started, but they had already launched into their incessant interrogation. Gradually, my barbed, perspiring hands transformed into the rhythmic flicking of a hair tie against my wrist. My iron spine melted into the burgundy, hospital modeled chair. Answers flew from my candid tongue: yes I’m 12, with my parents, we are building our house, in a vacation trailer…
“Has your mother and/or father ever hit you?” the woman blurted in smug superiority.
1, 2,
The sun was high in the sky, gleaming down on us. The air was breezy, but not cold. The day was ordinary, or so it seemed. But what was out of place? That would be my brother, the only person who could possibly get himself into such a situation, with his impossible ability to almost die, but just miss the mark. As he sat there on the ground with his back to us, legs sprawled out in front of him, we didn’t even realize that there was anything wrong. Hold on a second. Let’s rewind this just a little.
Center for Medical Progress’s David Daleiden appeared on CNN's New Day for an on-camera interview with Chris Cuomo. Even the most sympathetic of pro-lifers know the role Daleiden and his organizational have played in the current Right-wing attacks on Planned Parenthood. Common consideration is, Deleiden and the Center for Medical Progress did to fair well at the end of the interview.
“Val, I couldn’t - I’m so sorry. Please, just let me explain!” I begged her, tears stung my eyes. SMACK. My head snapped to the side, my cheek burned from the impact.
In modern times U.S. colleges and universities have more international students than ever before. The number of international students in the classrooms has increased dramatically the past couple of years. When I started classes here in US, I feel as if we, the foreign students were just more students. I saw it as people coming from different places but not different thoughts. After I started classes I realized that international students think in another way. We see things with different perspectives because we come from other cultures. We have a perspective based on our experience out of the country. Which means, we get to different conclusions. We have been raised different than people here in U.S.A. They were thought in another way, so we think different. I realized that, students from other countries can contribute a lot to a country. Not only economically, international students contribute culturally, as well with making improvements in institutions and education. They help by making the international relations of the country better. Outside the classroom, international students have an impact on more than just the education sector. They help supporting the economic activity, food, transportation, communication and more.
My photos are sort of inspired by two movies. At first I was going for a Toy Story feel, were the toys come to life when then the owner leaves. But half way through doing my project I decide to take a dark turn, and went more for more of a Chucky type feel. Both of my pictures where taken in the day time, but I edited them to kind of make it look like it was nighttime with the moonlight shining through the windows, hence the blueish tone the images and videos have.
Jorgan’s ears were still ringing. One of Master Satele’s stray boulders had scored a direct hit to his helmet. Fifteen years in the military without a single concussion; four years under Fynta’s command, and he had three.
It was raining. It was gloomy. It was dark. Everything that Yoongi adored about the rain. The sound of his teacher's voice made him turn his head from the cold foggy window.
A chestnut brown haired naive boy sat in the gloomy shadow of his cabin. The delicate spring air wafted the smoky smell of fresh cut grass into a sharply pointed nose and put his mind to ease. He felt his bare feet touch against the damp tender soil as the silver glow of the moonlight spilled from the sky upon the pages of his book. Lost in the adventure of thought he had almost escaped reality until the sound of his father’s heavy unsteady footsteps rushed into his ears. Immediately in shock, he stood up and scampered toward the narrow, pale backdoor and once inside the darkness of his home he stumbled around trying to find a hidden location for his treasured book.
I held open the door for the boy and he mumbled something inaudible as he shuffled past me. “It’s just sitting on that first pew over there,” I told the boy as I slowly began to pull the athame from having had it tucked away in my waistband. “Ah, man!” the boy exclaimed. “What the hell is that… did something die in here?”
They woke him, woke him like she told them too. She could hear him , hear him in the other room, talking gibberish like he had before Caitlin put him to sleep back at CCPD. Her heart sunk a little, what was she expecting? She was expecting to find the man she was to marry, but instead it was the one that talked gibberish. It was still her Barry, just different she knew this. It just hurt her, frustrated her that she couldn’t understand what he was talking about. She was trying too, she really was it was just hard. She knew that his gibberish had to mean something but what, what did it mean, she needed to figure out, so she could help him. She placed her hands on her hips, head shaking back and forth “You can do this Iris, you have to do this… Barry needs you.” She told herself a few time, yet she didn’t move. She stayed put, staring at the door. It was only a brief walk she had to make until she was standing in the room with Barry, her Barry, yet it seemed like a mile. Why? She wanted to see him, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and smother him in kisses to make up for the time she lost with him. But fear kept her feet frozen to the ground. She dared not move, not yet anyway.
The year is 2100 and swirling flames of destruction are engulfing New York City. Alone in the hostile environment stood Duncan Smith, a thin 16-year-old boy with blond hair and wire rimmed glasses. Duncan came from a poor family and he always felt like things never quite went his way in life. He had never really believed in himself before, and most other people hadn’t either. Regardless, he loved life. But one day, two years ago, everything was taken away from him. In the middle of the school day, a UFO landed on top of the Empire State Building. Shortly after, he watched in horror as more and more flying saucer’s swarmed the city, destroying everything in their paths, including his family. After the smoke cleared and the destruction was finished, Duncan and the other survivors from the attack hid in the dark alleys of the city.
He still looks the same from a year ago. His skin was still just as pale. His crooked eyebrows were still just as crooked as before and his horribly cut hair was just as bad.
I knew this was it, nothing else matter. I felt out of my body in this moment. The water turn on by itself. The water was the most beautiful thing I have seen in so long. Nothing could compare to the release the water will bring me. The way I will feel no more pain, because the water came me the release I’ve been craving. I lower myself into the tub. I lay down and took my last breath of air. I then submerged my head into the water.
The sky was dark and threatening rain as I pulled up to Moore Family Funeral Home. I had passed by the old white building many times, but I never thought I’d be attending a funeral here. And I never thought it would be one for my best friend.
It was a freezing winter day and our whole family was inside huddled in one room by the fire place with a piping hot cup of cocoa with two or three marshmallows in it. Although it was warm inside Sarah and I wanted to go outside to the library anyways because we loved reading… well not so much Sarah but since I'm her brother we kind of did everything together. “Mother, Father” I said “ can me and Sarah go outside to the library?” they both paused and gave each other that one overprotective look and they said “John you only just turned 13 last week and Sarah's only 11” I realized that we would have to sneak out so when we were done Sarah and I quietly snuck out while the parents were distracted discussing things I wasn't paying attention to.