Category: Junior Literary

when i was in kindergarten, my favorite color was purple. i remember crying one time because i went to color something with a purple crayon, but it was really just the dark blue one. eventually, i graduated on to an unnecessarily vast hatred for purple, and i liked light blues more. my mom bought me a purple composition book for my 1st grade class, and i looked at her like she was crazy because she knew i wanted the blue one. i was 6, and i cared way too much about the cheap pattern on the front of the notebook i would lose within 4 weeks. my mom got a little bit angry and my puzzled look, and she said she bought me the purple one because it was my favorite color. but it wasn’t? it was blue.

a few years later, i was in 4th grade. i woke up one morning to a fuzzy cat’s whiskers on my face, and i laughed. i entered the kitchen, and there he was: my papaw at my house, bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 6:00 in the morning, and i… was nothing less than utterly exhausted from my subpar sleep. he was there to take me on a field trip, so we went about our day, and when we came home, my mom was crying. they had put our cat down sometime during the day; he was sick.

i began my rebellious phase in 7th grade, and truth be told? i regret most of it, but don’t tell my parents that. i made the mistake of sneaking out of church to go see the guy i was dating at the time, and my mom found out when she read my journal. she didn’t even have the energy to scream, she just spoke. i left the next morning for a weekend-long venture field trip, and two and a half months later, i was starting fresh at a private school just off of lakeland drive in jackson. 

i made some really good friends there, and while it wasn’t an ideal situation, i was somehow able to make the best of it. by the end of the year, i was finally ready to continue the chapter i had left off at my old school.

i went back, and i made three really good friends: two of which, i still keep in touch with. they were amazing, and they paved the way for my freshman year of high school. they invited me everywhere, they introduced me to new people, and they made my life better. over the summer, they kinda… dropped off the face of the earth. i was left without friends, places to go, things to do; i was pretty alone. i eventually became okay with it, but i held on to hope that things would get better.

my mom took a job at my rival school, and i was less than excited. the little bit of hope that i still had in my old school was dwindling, but i was clinging to what i could. i went to our football games, worked a few soccer games, and spent every free minute in my favorite history teacher’s classroom. two schools later, and i still get the urge to save tik toks about his coffee addiction to show him during lunch.

the school never got better, and the hope i was clinging to? died almost instantly. i had a fight with my two remaining friends, and i called my mom to get me the hell out of that school – i couldn’t take it anymore. so i moved schools again, halfway through my sophomore year.

in a month and a half, i made more friends than i’ve ever had in my entire life, and i was on top of the world. pelahatchie opened so many doors for me, strictly because the students and staff were the most kind-hearted people i had ever met. they encouraged each others’ growth, and they truly wanted the best for each other; at least, the people i stayed around.

more things that came crashing down: my pelahatchie high school experience, in the middle of spring break, when it finally dawned on me that i would never be going back to that school. COVID-19 had finally halted activity in this state, and it wouldn’t open back up for a while. 

i saw my best friend twice before leaving for MSA.

when i got here, i had a few friends already. we talked and we hung out for about a week until about 5 of those friendships fell apart.

we came back, and everyone was here together. i made a few more friends, and we started to build our groups. i made one really close friend… then i made one really important decision, and our friendship crumbled like a burnt cookie. i’m still deciding if that one really important decision was worth it, because it’s the entire reason i decided to write this:

nothing lasts forever, and even realistic expectations will always fall short.

Your russet strawberry blonde hair glistens in the enriching sunlight,

your tall, boyish figure that you complain about, is entrenched in the most uniquely you clothing.

Burnt orange trench coats, knee-high converses,

 black berets, golden beaded dresses, 

dazzling deep blue one-shouldered dresses that belong in a disco club. 

We read tarot on your carpet and discussed your birthday,

We danced together at the valentine’s day dance, 

We watched the perks of being a wallflower until 10:30 last night. 

You have multiple paintings from me in your room.

You give me food when all that is in my room is water and I’ve missed dinner.

I had been pulled to you by an unknown force the day of our meeting.

You have become one of my favorite people in my life. 

You are beautiful. Your body is beautiful. Your personality is beautiful. Your wardrobe is beautiful. Your writing is beautiful. Your soul is beautiful. 

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. And you need to believe it more.

I love you and so does everyone on our floor.

Callie, you are so beautiful, smart, sweet, talented, important, and many more things.

This idea to talk about this was actually inspired by an exercise we did and Diego’s contribution.  This is not about a specific religion but most examples will come from religions based around the Bible as that is the one I am most familiar with in terms of modern religion.

Religion has caused endless pain and war all throughout history.  From ancient crusades to forcing Native Americans to adopt Christianity or be slaughtered like animals.  What kind of impact could influence people to be so hostile and hateful?  In short, the brainwashing of religion. 

You see, humans are very willing to except something if it sounds nice and sounds like it could be true.  

For example, did you know Iceberg Lettuce is called that because it floats in the water with part of it out and most underneath the water, just like an iceberg!  

Except, that’s completely false, but you believed it didn’t you?  

If not you probably just saw that coming from me basically telling you I was about to lie to you. 

So if some well dressed man stands up every week and tells you all these things for your whole life, you no longer question the things that do not even make sense.  It all goes down to human psychology.  If everyone you know tells you the same thing, over and over again, you are most likely gonna start to consider it the truth.  

There is plenty of inconsistencies and things that don’t work in the Bible, and Christians always seem to get upset and just shut down as soon as you mention them.

For example, did Jonah get eaten by a big fish or a whale?  I know this was a long time ago but whales are definitely not fish, and last time I checked there are no man eating fish.  Also, it makes no sense at all that he just sat in somethings stomach for 3 days and was still alive.  Do you know how corrosive stomach acid is?  He would have been dead on the spot.  Then even if he somehow survived that, there isn’t gonna be any air down there, so he would have just suffocated.

So yeah, that’s my whole  rant for now.  I just wish people would not try to shove Christianity down my throat, that is one of my main problems with the south.  Just leave people alone and stop screaming at us outside of movie theaters that we are all going to hell (yes this happened to me).  You can believe whatever you want, you have that right, but stop trying to take others rights to things like birth control just cause you don’t like it, it isn’t hurting you so just let it go.  If you hate abortions so much then maybe actually teach teenagers how to use contraception and have safe sex.  My sex ed was legit “Never have sex or you will get AIDS and die.”  I get you don’t want teenagers having sex, but they are going to regardless, so why not at least tell them how to be safe about it, it would prevent a lot of teen pregnancies.  Even if someone doesn’t have sex as a teenager, they most likely will eventually, so they will need to know how to at some point.   

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death,
have you met the puppy who has three heads? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death,
have you seen Persephone and all her flowerbeds? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big Brother Death, 
did Hades ever tell you ‘don’t speak to the dead’?

Big Brother, Big Brother - Your hands are so cold. 
Could you say ‘I love you’ like she used to do?

Big Brother, Big Brother - Where do you go?
When hades says to leave and I can’t go?

Big Brother, Big Brother -Do you know my name?
‘I have forgotten’ as you like to say. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - What is growth?
Persephone says it’s odd that you do not grow 

Big Brother, Big Brother - You’re called death
You call me ‘little girl’ or ‘sweet Beth’ 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Would you reap my soul? 
Hades says it’s gonna happen once I’m old

Big Brother, Big Brother - You’re finally home!
You brought strangers, but not a soul? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Who are these men?
Their loud and mean and they don’t like bread.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Why so sad?
Are these big, fat gods just here to make you mad?

Big Brother, Big Brother -What do you dearly hold?
You grabbed me close and you won’t let go.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Are those tears? 
And your hugging so tight like I’ll disappear.

Big Brother, Big Brother - What do they want?
The tension is rising, The rope’s pulled taut.

Big Brother, Big Brother - The story’s not done, 
so why are you acting like Fates been spun? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death. 
Why are you locked away? Like an animal with debt? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
Hades said he’ll keep me, till you’ve paid your debt. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - Death, fight back! 
Why won’t you ever overcome what you lack? 

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you.
But the lighting strikes me every time I do.

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you.
But the man with a trident stops me with blue. 

Big Brother, Big Brother - I want to see you
I want you to hold me like you used to do

Big Brother, Big Brother - I feel so cold.
Will I finally be what you’re able to hold

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
I loved when you called me your little Beth.

Big Brother, Big Brother - Big brother Death.
It seems I won’t see you, before my last breath

Hey, Big brother, Big brother Death. 
I want to thank you, 
For calling me Beth.

This poem is a continuation of my The Grim Reaper post, and it continues the story from her viewpoint. This poem is meant to be read sort of as a nursery rhyme, with a bit of the tune Baba Black Sheep mixed with the sing-song ramblings of a curious child. 

But this poem starts after Death has brought her to the Underworld  – since she is a child she began exploring everything she was allowed to. (after she got over her fear of all the fire and brimstone of course.) The poem then goes into her becoming more comfortable in her new life before Zeus and Pesiden hear rumors that Death had taken a living child from the surface world to the underworld and was raising her.

From there, it goes through her struggles of separation from Death – for this is when he is confined and basically ‘enslaved’ to Hades as punishment.  The poem ends just before Death is allowed out of his prison, and he is forced to watch from afar as his ‘little Beth’ takes her last breathe. Then he reaps her soul. 

Hope ya’ll enjoyed!

i had a rough week. monday started off with missing assignments, then ended with a write-up from the person i never thought would do it. tuesday was when the realization (or anxiety, i’m still not sure) set in that i don’t spend enough time with certain friends, but not by my own accord.

i lost a few people that night, and it was all downhill from there. i laid in my friend’s bed, sobbing, for almost an hour and a half that night. had we not been assigned a curfew, i likely would have stayed there all night.

wednesday, i didn’t really have the energy to do anything. one of my closest friends came up to give me a hug in the morning, and i broke down in tears.

thursday, i had a great day – fantastic, even – i was on top of the world, i was walking with my shoes clicking against the concrete, and i was wearing the red leather jacket i hadn’t had the heart to pull out of my wardrobe yet this year. 

thursday evening, i took a walmart trip with three friends. on the way there, the driver let me play every single song on my sad playlist. that little indie girl who despises the sound of a southern drawl let me play “you promised” by brantley gilbert at the highest volume, and the girl in the back seat had absolutely no problem with my tears collecting in a pool on her jeans. when we finally got to walmart, i spent every dollar i couldn’t afford that was in my bank account, and i regret not one second of it. someone else pushed the cart and i stocked up on comfort items and school supplies. i bought $50 worth of food that i knew i wouldn’t eat and $15 on an overpriced valentine’s day stuffed sloth. i named him buddy.

thursday night, i crashed. it was like… thomas rhett “crash and burn” type situation; when i went down, my entire world came down with me. i hadn’t showered in three days, my hair looked like it could be invaded by the US military at any given moment, and i’d taken care of my scent, but that doesn’t mean that i was clean. two of my friends pulled me onto the tile floor of my bathroom, locked me inside without my phone, and stayed there with me until i took a shower. one of them offered to wash my hair.

she looked at me in the eyes and said, “we’re not doing this because we feel bad for you or whatever else, we’re doing this because we love you,”

and that was the exact moment i smeared my mascara-stained tears off of my face, then uncrossed my legs and picked myself up from the bathroom floor. it wasn’t until later that i found out i hadn’t completely rinsed out the shampoo from my hair, so it was dry right behind my ears for the next little bit of time.

friday, my brother came to pick me up early from school. we stopped by the gas station near school, so i picked up a stick of beef jerky. i only ate half of it. a few friends from my old school offered to stay with me that night, as did a few from further north. it was 1:28am when my friend offered to make a 3 hour drive just to make sure i was okay.

sunday, i came back to school, and everything was better than we’d left it. 

on tuesday, my friends offered to bring their stuffed animal to class with them. i had mentioned that i wanted to, and they stepped up so i wouldn’t be alone in my endeavor. it was a small gesture, and it still means so much.

i tell this story from the perspective of a girl with anxiety, but one with such good friends that she’s slowly letting her guard down, and trusting that they have her best interest at heart. it takes a lot of love to separate a person from their anxiety, nearly impossible, but some incredible people have made it happen, and i am eternally grateful.

Recently, this tweet stumbled across my timeline:

    For some reason, it really inspired me at 2pm on a Thursday afternoon, so I decided to write a story about it. The excerpt below is the first two paragraphs I wrote, so the ‘intense slowburn’ aspect is a bit limited. However, I am super proud of this, and I wanted to share it. No, I will not tell you the plot–that would be too easy.

     Before he even thought to open his eyes, Esmond squeezed them shut. Overwhelmed by the rays of glaring, white light, his left arm instinctively rose to shield his face. If not distracted by the intense pulsing sensation inhabiting the pack of his head, he would have been startled by the heaviness of his own limbs. The joints of his knuckles cracked with each cautious movement his stiff fingers made, and his throat stung with the dryness of a lake drained by the heat of a thousand wicked suns. He did not notice the pressure of someone absentmindedly tracing her thumb along the lines of his palm until she tugged her arm back in haste. The pullback made his entire right side feel vulnerable, as if she had been guarding him from the openness of the room they occupied. The scent of stale ocean water and dried blood left with her, and though he did not have the strength to pry open his own eyes, he hung on to the swelling feeling her presence spun into his chest. Something began to scream at him, demanding that he find her again.

     The tranquility she brought to the room vanished after a few fleeting moments, and it was swiftly replaced by the sounds of dense shoes echoing off the stone floor and muffled speech. A large door screeched loudly, and the space became congested with a frantic, oppressive energy. He suspected that the people whom those voices belonged to were trying to communicate with him, but he could not understand a word they spoke; though he sensed their concerned presence right next to him, it sounded as if several concrete walls separated them. A broad, icy hand grabbed Esmond’s shoulder and brutishly joggled it, causing his entire chest to rattle. Fear incited a spark of adrenaline that spread from his air-stricken lungs to each inch of his bruised, swollen skin; it subdued the hissing white noise that numbed his sense and unbolted the locks of disarmament that held his eyelids together. He jolted upright, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the room.

I’m Sorry

I’m sorry for all the mistakes I’ve made

I’m sorry I can’t keep things straight

I’m sorry sometimes I get so mad

Sometimes to cover up the bad

I’m sorry my feelings don’t make sense

I’m sorry my apologies aren’t enough

I could never bring people back

So I lay awake in the tear-stained black.

 

Why do I feel as I will never be enough

Maybe it was being compared to people my whole existence

Maybe it was so many people trampling my heart

I apologize a million times a day 

But never enough for the big mistake 

The big mistake that is me.

 

Every time I’m around

People seem to get hurt

I try to make people smile

Then…

why is everyone staring?

 

This is a poem I wrote as a sort of vent for myself.  Definitely not the best thing I have written, but it was not supposed to be.  It was simply to get the thoughts out of my head.  I often feel like I am not worthy of normal things.  So common to me is the feeling of insignificance.   

Life always seems to throw things at me that I can’t seem to dodge.  Sometimes they are so hard to avoid because even I don’t see them coming.   Then again, sometimes, I can and still just can’t prevent it.  I try, I try my best to prevent all the things thrown at me but they come too fast and are thrown too hard to be stopped.  After all, you can’t dodge a speeding bullet.  That really is what it feels like sometimes, that you are just getting shot repeatedly.  Then instead of someone helping you up they take the opportunity to shoot you while you are down.  The best way I can explain it is: to see someone injured and take the chance to hurt them even more because they are less able to fight back. That’s pretty much how it’s like.

I guess the lesson here is to be kind to people who are already hurting.  No one wants to be shot, but absolutely no one wants to be shot repeatedly.  So, just be nice. If you have a problem with them, try talking to them 1 on 1 instead of just cancelling them in front of people because it makes you feel superior.

I don’t really like my new schedule.  I have two hard classes and I have another class 4th block so I can’t go to practice.  One of my teachers is a bit “work-happy”– giving out huge packets and won’t even let us use the bathroom.

Also, we’re doing jumpstart, an ACT prep program, right after school gets out, which is going to fry my brain like a toaster.  How am I gonna learn anything when my brain is already really tired from the school day, and then go and do all my homework after that? Ugh. 

In short, I’m dropping out of school and becoming a cat.  (For legal reasons that’s a joke.)

Not being able to play basketball and having a much more stressful schedule is having a negative effect on my mental health.  I also have been having really bad sinus pressure which gives me more migraine attacks.  My stress and anxiety have also been not happy.

I want my old schedule back.

I know it is not reasonable to never have hard classes, but multiple of those with no stress outlet is very just, hard on me.

Yesterday I went to get some shots up.  Being the only one practicing in the gym was very strange and pretty unnerving.  Also the boys coaches kept watching me at first and it gave me much anxiety.  There was also this boy outside who probably thought I was stupid by going to practice at the wrong time.  

An hour of that, my shot was actually really good, considering I haven’t gotten to shoot in like a week because of my new schedule.  Also, the basketball goals at MSA are both busted.  

I’ve been pretty stressed, depressed, lemon zest.

I finally had the motivation to wash clothes yesterday, which was nice.  Never got to folding them though.  

Also, I’m not looking forward to doing work from dawn to dusk.  Not exactly my thing.  I can’t stay focused that long, my brain will legit turn into swiss cheese.  

On the positive side I learned how to make recycled paper and plan on trying it out as soon as my tool comes in for it.  At least that sounds like fun.