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brio_pe_scurt
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Name: Becky
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Rockford
Gender: Female
Interests: Jesus, writing, art, family, friends, hockey, Miracle on Ice, carpet ball, camping, The Blues Brothers, The Princess Bride, Robin Hood: Men in Tights, Tommy Boy, jazz music, Christian music, oldies music, rock music, 50's music, anything from the 70's, bell bottoms, guys with long hair, records, M*A*S*H, Dukes of Hazzard, Scrubs, Just Shoot Me, and more.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
MSN: hobbitgrl717@hotmail.com
Member Since:
3/12/2006
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| Panic The pretty peach color of her face faded into a stop sign red as the whole country stared, waiting for her to make the biggest decision of her life. She didn’t even expect him to ask. She could have sworn it was just another date, until five seconds ago when he popped the question in front of a multitude of people. “Am I ready for this kind of commitment? Am I ready to leave Miss Carla Smith and become Mrs. Carla Jones? Do I even want to wake up next to Robbie Jones everyday for the rest of my life? And what made him think that a marriage proposal at the Super Bowl was a good idea? Maybe it could work with other girls, but not this one,” As anger and confusion began to overlap each other, she fidgeted in her seat, eyes shifting from the waiting crowd to her pleading boyfriend, whose smile had faded dramatically during the ten seconds of silence. Her mind panicked as it drowned in her own reflections. Carla stood up from her seat and quickly walked out of the football arena while the cameras continued to follow her every move. The stadium was filled with disappointment, and the crowd let the girl know how they felt. The cameras then focused on Robbie, who had risen to his feet and clumsily ran after his Love. “It can still work, Love. I’m sorry. Don’t leave me,” were the only words that existed in his brain while he ran through the halls searching for that head of sheer black hair that he adored. Robbie sprinted the whole way to the parking lot, consistently repeating Carla’s parking space number. Drenched in sweat, he arrived at his destination to find an empty cavity at spot 4-D. His heart broke and anger fueled the tears that streamed from his eyes. Robbie Jones, not knowing what else to do, dropped to the cold, grimy cement and mourned the loss of his Love. He went on with live never forgiving, ever regretting. ____________________________________________ Another one I did for Creative Writing. Enjoy!  | | |
| Don’t Help Me You may laugh, but you’ll never know. You’ll never know what it’s like to be afraid of something so stupid. I hide from that which normal people look up at in wonder. But no one ever knows what could happen; at least everyone pretends that it’s completely impossible for a star to fall down to Earth, causing mass destruction. There you go, laughing at me again. I didn’t spend $65 to get laughed at. I can get that anywhere for free. I’m not dense. I know that normal people aren’t afraid of stars falling from the sky. I also know that no one takes me seriously. That bothers me. I don’t even know why my parents thought it would be good for me to see a psychiatrist. It’s not like I’m a complete nut job. Besides, doesn’t everyone have strange quirks, or fear something totally harmless? Are you afraid of anything weird, Dr. Schultz? Has anyone ever forced you to spill your guts about your weird phobias? Why do you people insist on making me normal? All I really want is for people to accept me and look past my stupid star-phobia, or whatever it’s called. I want people to stop trying to figure out me and my problem. I mean, are their own problems not enough? Gosh, people! Just leave me alone! __________________________________________________ I did this for my Creative Writing class and really liked it. I hope you do too. | | |
| Questions, Answers, and Freedom
Dedicated to Rick Welter
So many questions.
Why allow suffering on a good man?
Why paralyze a fun, active man?
Why kill his muscle slowly?
Your ways are higher than we can understand.
Why do I shed so many tears for someone I only met once?
So many stories,
So much life,
Promises broken,
Not enough time.
He’s with You now,
I’ll see him sometime soon.
Maybe I will hear those stories,
Finish unfinished conversations,
Go swimming in a Sea of Glass.
He’s better now,
Free from the bonds of flesh.
Total, complete, pure freedom. | | |
| Kristallnacht
Kristallnacht,
Kristallnacht,
The night of broken glass
Jewish storefronts crashed
Jewish homes are trashed
Eight hundred Jewish lives are taken
Because of Hitler’s heart of lead
My Jewish father now lies dead
Kristallnacht,
Kristallnacht,
The night of life destroyed | | |
| Homecoming Disaster?
I was in the car, riding shotgun, with my older brother who was driving us to the homecoming dance. We were both going for the first time even though he was a junior and I was a sophomore. I was wearing a blue gown, my hair was curled and hanging down below my shoulders. My brother was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt under a nice button down shirt.
I had planned the day perfectly. My brother and I would walk into the school, pay for our tickets, and head for the gym. My brother would meet up with his date there and I would head over to my group of friends. When a slow song started playing I would ask my crush to dance and from there we would hit it off. I was sure nothing could go wrong.
When we got to the school my brother and I paid to get in and parted ways. He waited for his date to arrive and I found my friends. So far, the night was going perfectly and I was having a great time.
However, two hours later, it was a totally different story. All my friends had either gone home or ditched me to be with other friends. Not to mention, whenever I tried to dance with my crush, another girl would get to him first.
A slow song started to play and I watched the couples dance. I felt alone and hurt by my friends. I quickly walked to the ladies room as I felt tears form in my eyes. I tried to hold them back. I think one slipped, though. I stayed in the rest room until I was fully composed.
As I was leaving the rest room I crossed paths with my brother. He looked a little down himself so I asked him if he was okay. It turned out that his date never showed up. I told him I was sorry about that. I guess he noticed I wasn’t doing that great either because he asked if everything was alright on my end. I told him everything and he said he was sorry to hear that.
Suddenly, another slow song started playing. My brother looked at me, a small smile on his lips. “Do you want to dance?” he asked me. At first I thought he was crazy, but when I thought again it seemed really nice. I told him okay.
He lead me out to the dance floor, arm-in-arm. He took my hand and we began to sway to the music. He planted a kiss on my forehead and asked if I was okay now. I told him that everything was fine.
We danced the rest of the night, and when we left we were both happy. I guess homecoming didn’t turn out so bad after all.
The End | | |
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