Monday, December 22, 2014

Fan Fiction Hybrid (Genre: The Walking Dead-Writing Style: George RR Martin)


        As she drove away from Rick she was trying to piece together in her mind that she might never see her friends again. It broke her heart to come to this realization, but she knew what she did was right. Killing and burning those bodies was the only hope that the prison could have to stop the infection from spreading to everyone. Carol was the only one who could bring themselves to do it in this god forsaken world they have found themselves in. Carol did the only thing she had trained all the other kids to do and that was to survive. Quiet and abandoned, the town was a sign of a new start for Carol. After going through stores, which had been cleared out from all the chaos, she scavenged what she could. She found herself looking at an abandoned apartment complex and decided to try and stay the night. Knife in hand she went door by door making sure she would not get attacked in her sleep like her husband did. She finally found her own little room and sealed it off with an old wooden dresser. As she started to close her eyes she heard a banging. Immediately she grabbed her knife and tried to figure out where the noise was emanating from. She found the problem behind an opaque glass door. It was a female walker trying to get at her like the wall wasn’t there. As Carol was reaching for the doorknob, a child of no more than six appeared and clawed at the glass as well. Carol froze and just stood there remembering her little Sophia as she walked out of that barn. Except it was not her Sophia that walked out it was another being hungry only for flesh. Carol remembered watching as the bullet traveled through her daughters head and her infected blood spilled everywhere. Carol dropped her knife and covered her mouth with both hands and slid along the wall to the floor in tears. Seeing this not only reminded her of Sophia but also how she might never see her group again. Carol finally was overcome with sleep and the constant thumping on the glass was drowned out. Darkness filled her eyes until the thumping started to grow louder and she woke up in a flash, startled and looked around rapidly moving her head in all directions. After realizing she was safe her breath returned to a steady pace and she found herself looking at the walkers silhouettes again. After staring at them with a face of anger and disappointment, she sat up grabbed her knife and went back to grab her things to go out and scavenge again. Carol realized that she still had to do one thing, and that was to survive.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Christmas Traditions (Satire Piece)

    Christmas season has returned in all of its former glory. It is the time of giving and spending time with all of the family. This time of year seems to be my favorite, not just because I get gifts and every kid loves this time of year, but how traditions and the thought of thinking of others really peaks at this time of year is always great. Some family traditions are different than others by small margins, or just completely out of the ordinary. It is those traditions, that I find, that bring your loved ones together and share something special. For instance, every year it is the same thing when it comes to decorating my house, put on a Christmas movie, bring up the tree (which has also been a tradition itself since it has been in the family for over 12 years now due to my sister’s asthma), and decorate everything in the living room into the holly jolly spirit. I won’t lie, ever since middle school decorating the house just seems like another chore to do rather than a fun time to spend with my family. One of the things I have found out over the years is that growing up instantly grants you the job of all the heavy lifting of boxes and totes since you are deemed fit enough by your parent to lug everything while the younger sibling watches in pleasure as you lug yourself and the tree up the stairs. One of the worst parts in my home is my mother’s addiction to nutcrackers. What went from a nice gift to give my mom quickly turned into a house on Hoarders. Every shelf in the living room space is filled with m=nutcrackers of all shapes and sizes. From the small ornament nutcrackers lining the tree, to the two foot tall nutcracker that towers over the rest. When grabbing them out to decorate the house it seems as if you are reaching into Marry Poppins bag and pulling them out of and endless void of nutcracktopia. My mother feels like she does not have enough, while my sister and I consider otherwise. With this family tradition, the age of the nutcracker looks as if it will stay in my household for many years to come.

Friday, December 5, 2014

The Grocery List (Slam Poetry List)

Step One: My mother hands me the grocery list
Step Two: Groan and moan and ask why I need to go
Step Three: Go to the store anyways
Step Four: Find the special type of coffee that my mother likes
Step Five: Think of all the ways that I can get back at my mother
Step Six: Reflect on how much my mother has done for me
Step Seven: Realize how much this little task means to her
Step Eight: Take a firm look at the list and complete it with honor

Step Nine: Find more tasks to do to try and repay my mother