One Act Play

One Late Night Train Ride

It is 2:45 AM in New York at a quiet bus station. The skies are very dark grey and the air is heavy. No one is in sight besides a big, dirty bus, Elle and Mack.

The bus pulls up to the lonely stop. Mack walks on and sits down by herself in a seat across from the only other passenger on the bus.

Elle: Pretty late for a bus ride, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s pretty early. Depends on the way you’re lookin at things this time or day. Is it Saturday night or Sunday morning? All depends on how you want to see it I suppose. Either way, its one late night train ride, that's for sure!

Mack: Yup. Mack looks out the window in hopes that this odd, quirky 30 or so years old woman will stop talking to her.

Elle: Names Elle. Yourself?

Mack: Uhh, yeah. I’m Mack

Elle: Mack? Hmm, different. Mackenzie? I like it.

Mack: It’s just Mack. Well, yeah. It’s Mackenzie, but I’m Mack.

Elle: Well what are you doing out here at this time or day? A little odd for a girl your age. How old are you anyways?

Mack: (Mack turns to Elle and takes a deep breath before speaking) I’m 17. Look, I’m just trying to get out of here, okay? I know it’s late, or early, or whatever. I’m done with New York. Why’s everyone always trying to come out here all the time anyways? I know I know. “The city that never sleeps”. “The city for dreamers”. Well America, maybe some dreamers dream a different dream than every other dreamer out there. Maybe some people would rather a quiet empty house rather sometimes. Parties every other night, drugs everywhere, it’s not for all of us. Sure the city lights are nice to look at outside your bedroom window every night, but the cult of homeless people, including women and children, the prostitute house down the street and the 43% of my grade that sells drugs isn’t so good.(Elle is listening intently and looking into Mack’s harsh eyes the entire time she talks. She begins to ramble on, but Elle doesn’t mind) Look around here, uhh, Elle. Take a look out these windows. Do you see anything beautiful? I sure as hell don’t see anything. I’m just a student. I’m just trying to get out of here. This isn’t for me anymore. 17 years of this. 17 years of my mom in and out of addiction, my dad trying to keep everything afloat, my brothers having parties every weekend. Do you know what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night to three drunk guys in your bed? I need something simple. Boring even. Anything but here.

Elle: Wow

Mack: I’m sorry, okay? I really am, but I haven’t let that out, like ever, and i really needed to.

Elle: Why don’t you come sit with me?

Mack: (Hesitant, she grabs her small backpack and slides into Elle’s seat).

Elle: I’ve been there, but maybe the complete opposite. I grew up in a very small town in Michigan. I wanted one thing my entire life and it was a way out. By my senior year in high school, I knew it was time. I was ready. I got accepted to art school here, got a plane ticket and left the day school got out. Look around you. Maybe you can’t see it sometimes, but this city is amazing.

Mack: (Shaking her head and looking away), No. No no no.

Elle: When I first got here it felt like a whole new world. I watched the sun rise and set from my dorm room every day and every night. I always loved art and music and people. This is the place for all of that. The stars shine so much brighter. The music is so much more passionate and the people are all crazy.

Mack: Well, we are different then.

Elle: Ahh, no, let me finish. I was in your place one day. I felt this way too. Too overwhelmed to even get out of bed some days or  even get ready for school. Always thinking to myself “What am I even doing here? I am not from here. I know no one here except my few friends, roommates and teachers. My family probably hates me for leaving them. Maybe I should just leave”. One night, I took a bus at 3:50 to a the airport and as I was ready to board, I remembered everything I had wanted from this place. I wanted freedom, a new start, independence. I was not going to leave until I had that. So I returned back to my room and thought about everything. Since that day when I was 23 I have never thought of leaving again.

Mack: Did the city give you what you wanted?

Elle: Yes, of course, but not enough. I can never have enough freedom. Never enough art. Never enough music. Never enough of anything beautiful. So, until I die, I will stay here and live. This is true for every place in the world as well. What I think about every day is what is this city giving me? Not like money or power or a job, but happiness and love and a beautiful setting. What does a city give you? What does anything give you? That is what matters to me.

Mack: Ahh, maybe. Hmm, you make me think about New York differently.

Elle: New York is a place of wonder and amazement to every person who visits it. You can stay on this train and ride it out until you come to a stop that you feel that suits you..

Mack: (Interrupting her and sounding unsure) Well…

Elle:(Interjecting her change of heart) Or, you can get turn around, go back to where you belong, and force this city to give you what you want from it. You can’t take anything from it if you don’t want to, or you can take every good thing from it and let it impact you the way you want it to.

Mack: Maybe I should give it another try.

Elle: Good. There’s a nice Thai place right down the street from the next stop. It’s phenomenal. Want to stop in? I know it’s late, but the owner is a good friend of mine and he stays late hours. He would whip us up something yummy in a jiffy. What do you say?

Mack: Hmm, well I should get home. I am already out though, right? Thai sounds good to me right now.

Mack and Elle sit in the same seat. As Mack begins to doze off, Elle takes out a sweater and lays it on Mack’s lap. She puts her arm around Mack’s shoulders and squeezes her a bit. They stay on the train until they reach a stop in Vermont. She wakes Mack and they begin exiting the train into the cold air and start walking toward the Thai place that is in sight.

Mack: Wait. If I was on the train to get away and you said you never wanted to leave again, what were you doing on a 2:45 train?

Elle: Mack, it’s beautiful out here. Everything looks crazy this late.

The two friends walked closer and closer up to the restaurant. As they got closer, Mack grabbed Elle’s hand. Elle, a bit startled, looked up at her. She held her hand back and smiled. They walked into the restaurant and sat down. The new and unlikely friends sat down and shared a 3:28 AM dinner together in Vermont at a Thai restaurant, all because of one late night train ride.

Picture Perfect 7 Pictures

  

Picture Perfect

The Path

      I took a deep breath of the crisp fall air and put one foot in front of the other. As i walked for a minute or so, I stopped. I remembered everything I had done to get to this point. Cleaning myself up, finding a good job, finally recovering from my addictions and finding a house to call my own. The past two years I have hell, but triumphant and rewarding to say the least. 27 was no age for falling out hair and rotted teeth with freckled, wrinkled skin and clothes that 60 year old men wear. 27 was the age for exploring, discovering new foreign surrounding me. 27 was the time for maturity and strength. 27 was the perfect age to settle down with a lover and a child in a nice house with that white picket fence and a few big maple trees in the front yard. Somewhere along the way, I got lost. I wish I hadn't, but I lost everything. With my new life ahead of my, my clean body and mind, and success in the future, I was ready for this moment. I was ready to finally be able to meet my 7 year old daughter. She was up this path. Maybe she had waited for me. Maybe she had wondered where I was or if I thought of her often, I did. The only thing between my daughter and I, the future and I, success and I was the path. I opened my eyes widely and took two steps forward. I began my new journey, my new path.  

Love

We walked down to the lake every Sunday after dinner in the early summer, so I thought today was nothing new. Boy, was I wrong. “I love it! I love it! It’s so beautiful again. It makes me so happy” she yelled and giggled as she ran down by the water. She stopped once she got to the very edge of the lake, amazed by the sky. Off in the distance were the greenest of trees looked black from here. The sky was painted light blue, fading into a lighter purple the a bright yellow with pink streaks everywhere. All this beauty reflecting off the water, washing out anything in the world besides the sky and the water. Instead of running beside her, I watched her. I loved the way her hair fell past her shoulders and down her back. Her legs tan and long and her waist tiny. She watched the world with gleam in her eyes and freedom reigning strongly within her precious soul. Her lips pouted and her neck was slender, fitting her small body with a few curves. She was beautiful. As I watched her, mesmerized by the world, I thought to myself This Is Love.

Money

Through his whole life, he had one strong belief. Money is power. Growing up lacking money is a community filled with wealthy people, he felt inferior his during his childhood to all of his wealthy friends and neighbors. After moving, find a lover and having children, he knew it was his time for success. He work everyday and every night in a mediocre job he reluctantly took. He ate breathed and slept money. He paid no attention to his family or his new found love, but his drive of fortune drove him insane. Losing sleep every night, losing appetite every morning and solely focusing  on his possible wealth. One day, when he would not stop working toward money, he realized everything he had was gone. His love was gone. His children were gone. His sanity was gone. His heart, his brain, his body, his soul were all gone. He was empty but wealthy. Was is worth it? The many hours away leading to losses, the sacrifices, were they all worth it? The man sat in his chair, looked around at everything in the room, and frowned. Was this worth is? He thought to himself and sat quietly for a moment. A rich man with a poor man’s soul. I still have my money.

August in New York TEST

I watched everyone file in through the window of my dressing room. I became so nervous. Seeing everyone, all my friends and my family, I felt scared for my life. I was not scared to marry him, not even a little. He was perfect to me. His goofy personality and his charming smile made me feel lucky every single day. I wanted a family, children, that white picket fence, and even maybe a dog, but I was still nervous for the future. People change every second, reinventing themselves and refining what they think needs improvement. I loved him the way he was, but what if he didn’t? What if he changed the things I loved? What if we grew apart like so many beautiful couples do? I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Seeing my friends and family come to watch this beautiful ceremony, my heart fluttered. This would be the most exciting moment of my life. This would change my life forever. I did not feel a sense of letting my freedom go because we could be free together like we always had. We could run our lives like the characters in her favorite books. We could do everything we wanted to. Wow I love her.  It was time for me to walk now. I held up my dress, looked in the mirror for a second, and exited my room. My heart pounded faster than I was blinking. I felt nauseous, but happy to begin a new chapter. I began thinking again. What if we don’t have a nice house? What if we never have kids? What if I wasn’t ready for all of this yet? Maybe we needed another year. I stopped myself for a second and took a breath. I was ready for this. I proceeded to walk. As soon as she stepped on the aisle, my eyes grew and my heart melted. I felt my jaw drop. She was so beautiful. Her long white dress and her loosely curled hair was so different from her usual wavy hair and jean with a t shirt look. She was always beautiful to me, but this was different. She was type of beautiful most people didn’t see the first time they look at a person. She valued art and music and the Earth and love and peace. She was a bit of a hippy to me, but I loved it. She was amazing. Flawless. I looked at Mike as I stepped into the room. I felt a smile grow, but I contained it. He was smiling at me, wide eyed and glistening like they always did when he got excited about something. My nerves eased and my heart warmed. I felt certain about everything now. Everything was perfect. I had thought of this since I was a little boy. Marrying a beautiful woman and settling down with her seemed like a dream to me. 23 seemed too young for everyone else, but you know when you know. I sure as hell knew that this was right. The second I saw Summer I knew I loved her. Her effortless beauty and her artistic flare interested me. She was so different. I remembered the first time Mike and I saw each other. It was August in New York. The weather was warm, but we met in a coffee shop. We looked at each other and smiled. I sat down and he sat next to me. He introduced himself. The rest is purely history.

Trees TEST

I lay down between a woods filled with sharp twigs and tall trees with leaves and foliage filling the sky, and any possible visibility of a cool blue sky and vibrant sun to warm my face as I am so far away from it. Shaded and cooled within the dead grass and crisp leaves, I begin to stare up at the trees. They towering over me.They are so big, so tall and strong. They are a bit intimidating from their roots looking toward their leaves. They are all alike from this view. Of course, some are taller than others, leafier than others, some dark deep green and brown but some vibrant and sunny yellow with red and splashes of other colors mixed in too. Some dripping in sap or occupied by a mother animal and her children. Although these difference are clear, they are all similar in some qualities. They all stand tall and proud, never bending or breaking for any reason other than their ultimate death. Isn’t that interesting? Never being unsure of yourself, never wondering what is beneath you and never worrying about where you initially came from. They go strictly in one position, upward. They look to the sky for what they have not yet reached. They grow forward the heavens, never revisiting what they have already known or experienced. They stay with their surrounding equals who grow as well, never waiting up for anyone who will not grow with them or has aspirations to reach the height of their full potential. Trees never fall to their circumstances or possible bad surroundings. Through storms, snow and sunshine, they strictly stand tall and firmly. Even when they are first sprouted or dying, they remain a natural force. When it it their final day, they do what is rarely done; they fall. Maybe we can all learn something from a tree; to grow and only go up as we live, and never bend or break for anything until we die.

Nana

From the day June was born, Nana took her as she was. June’s mother was arrested the day she was born due to illegal drug addictions and her dad was never anywhere to be found. Her nana took as right from her mother’s arms and raised her to be one thing; herself. June was very different. She liked punk rock, tattoos, piercings and just about everything an elderly woman would not expect. Although she loved her nana very much, she could not ditch her passions for her. June and nana would sit on the porch every night and talk about something they loved. Although June’s was usually a boy or a band, nana’s was always the same thing. She said every night that she loved June the very most.  When June found out her nana was sick, she was devastated. She would get out of school everyday and go right to the hospital to visit her. Her last day, she spoke clearly and quietly to June so she would understand and always remember her last words. She began to speak with a little trouble, but she said “June, I want you to remember everything in the past 17 years we have done together. We have eaten countless meals, traveled the world, grown plants, read books, watched movies, listen to music, some songs better than others, gone shopping, and at the end of every day, sat out on the porch, rain or shine, and said one thing we loved. Every day I am here and every day I am gone, my daily love will always be you. Through our fights, frustrations, stresses, troubles, good days, bad days, laughs and cries, my daily love will always be you without exception. You have made me a better woman and you have kept me young all these years. Thank you for that, June. You have been my sunshine.” After that, she laid back and closed her eyes. Nana was dead and June left without a word. Approaching her house, she parks and stepped out. She sat on the porch and thought of all the days she had sat here. She heard her nana’s voice in the back of her mind speaking sweetly My daily love is you.  

Write About a First

          Her first love was something she had never imagined. Love hit her in the gut like an oncoming train going 300 miles per hour with nothing in it's way; beautiful, fast, endless, but ruthless and capable of killing. A whole new world of peace entered her mind. A place of certainty and comfort in the place her head and her heart had been newly introduced to. This love provided the security of a twelve foot wired fence. This love gave her freedom, like a butterfly in an open field; free to fly and flutter as it chose. This love gave her the light she needed for the opportunity to shine the way she was born to. The sun and its millions of rays was incomparable to the brightness she could possess with everything he had gave her. That type of love was made for movie screens. The type of "crazy about each other" feelings in a novel that made your heart smile when they kissed but shattered every nerve in your mind when it ended. For the characters, when their love ends or when, the book ends. Their feelings end. Eventually, it all ends. Her book never ended. Her love never ended. She could not stop feeling everything he had given her at one point. Through every second, every minute of every day of every week she felt what she had felt since the beginning. She felt his embrace when they were miles apart. She smelled his shirt when she was in her own clothes. She felt his absence in every crowded place, everything filled hallway, every empty room, and every single night. Her first love was something she had never imagined. Her first love changed her; she was never the same.

Ironic Story

Spring time, radiant sunshine, sweet scents and bright sunshine bring are all beautiful things, but unfortunately bring one thing that is dreaded by everyone. Bees. Playing innocently in her yard by her mother’s flower patch, Anna was enjoying herself. Annoyingly and loudly, she heard her least favorite sound of buzzing. “Ahh! Eeeek! Go away bees! Get out of here now!” She shrieked and squirmed around. Anna tried walking away, but they followed her everywhere. Her floral green dress and her red hair attracted the bees. While she walked away, she gradually attracted more and more of the pesky bugs.

“Mom! Mom! Help me, please! These bees won’t get away from me” Anna yelled inside to her mom cleaning the kitchen.

“Don’t come in here with those things! I’m cleaning in here and I don’t need those bugs coming in here stinging your little brother and scaring the dog. I told you to wear bug spray!”

Anna moaned in annoyance. Her biggest fear was getting stung by one of the buzzing bees. She walked down to her favorite spot, praying they would leave her, but they did not. Her favorite spot was the lake down by Tellow Street. Anna realized that bees cannot go in the water. If she went into the water she could not get stung. She ran down the long boardwalk, held her nose, and jumped into the lake. When her legs went into the water, she felt a pinch on her ankle. She felt stings up her legs to her thighs. What? She thought to herself, confused. The lake had recently gotten an infestation of jellyfish she was not aware of. By jumping in the lake to get away from the sting of the bees, she was stung by jellyfish. Anna hopped out of the water, discouraged and annoyed. As she shook herself off and began to walk home, a bee flew down into her hair. Perfect.

Visual Poem

3 Poems

Ode: To the Stars (Ode) ORIGINAL

The reason I have dreamed to me.

The reason I have laid, wide eyed, open minded, flutterling stomach until early morning.

Until they cannot be seen anymore.

Until their nighttime whispers cannot be heard anymore.

They have inspired me.

They have kept me going.

Each concept of every single one of them has amazed me since I can remember.

Each star, radiant and beautiful, shine independently and consistently.

Even in the darkest of nights,

Even in the stormiest of storms,

Stars shine

Ode: To the Stars (Ode) FINAL

The reason I have produced sweet dreams in the peak of my sleeps.

The reason I have laid wide eyed, open minded,with a  fluttering stomach until early morning.

Until their luminescence appears unclear,

Until the whispers of the moon cannot be heard.

They have inspired my soul and resilience.

They have infatuated my brain.

Each concept of every individual has amazed my every thinking mind since I have first seen one

Each one, radiant and beautiful, shine independently and consistent.

Even in the midst of the dreariest of nights,

Even during the wettest and most unpredictable storms,

Stars remain

The Girl (Triolet) ORIGINAL

Her tranquility amazed me,

So soft, so strong, so brilliant.

She took on life so calmly,

Her tranquility amazed me.

Amazed by the radiant sun,

But never neglecting the sea.

Her tranquility amazed me,

So soft, so strong, so brilliant.

The Girl (Triolet) FINAL

Her tranquil soul never ceased to amaze me,

So soft, so sweet, so brilliant.

She walked through her life so calmly,

Her tranquil soul never ceased to amaze me.

Electrified by the sun,

But never neglecting the sea.

Her tranquil soul never ceased to amazed me,

So soft, so sweet, so brilliant.

The Man (Rondel) ORIGINAL

Lively, prosperous, full of potential, The Man craves success.

Looking for opportunity, searching for benefit.

Hoping to provide for his family,

The Man has his money.

Forgetful, neglectant, needy, The Man has wealth.  

Owning everything he ever needs and nothing he wants.

He has provided for his family.

The Man has his money.

Lonely, unloved, greedy, The Man has nothing but wealth.

His house empty, his heart heavy.

To him, there is only room for one thing to adore.

The Man is so wealthy, he is nothing but poor.

The Man has his money.

The Man (Rondel) FINAL

Promising, prosperous, full of potential, The Man craves success.

Looking for opportunity, searching for gain.

Wishing to provide for his family,

The Man has his money.

Nirvanic, neglecting, needy, The Man has wealth.  

Owning everything he wants, even what he does not need.

He has sufficiently provided for his family.

The Man has his money.

Uattatched, unloved, unappreciative, The Man has nothing but wealth.

His house empty, his heart heavy.

To him, there is only room for one thing to adore.

The Man is so wealthy, he is nothing but poor.

The Man has his money.

Different Tone Passages

“$27.98! $27.98!” I yelled excitedly, almost giddy, nearly jumping with joy. This had been the most money I had obtained in years. $27.98. That would be enough for food, drink, maybe even a new pair of socks of a jacket if I’m lucky at the thrift shop down the street from the bus stop i usually stay at. New York gets cold in the winter time. Cold enough to hurt your throat by just saying thank you to a kind stranger giving you their spare change. Cold enough to keep you awake in the night when all you want in sleep, all you want is a bed and a shelter, but you stay awake thinking, remembering a time when it was warmer. Cold enough to freeze your fingers together that you put them in your hole filled and nearly decade old pants to dethaw. Christmas time makes people in the city so generous lately. Giving gifts, giving money, making food, making presents, spreading love, spending time together, spending a lot of money, enjoying good food and drink, receiving presents. The people of the city, the generous ones, give me anything from their unfinished pizza to their spare change. It warms my heart when they give me such generous things. $27.98 could keep me living for at least a month. I had never been happier to receive this gracious donation.

“$27.98” I said as I looked down into my cup. “That’s it? I am homeless, living in a freezing, disgusting city full of selfish and stuck up people. Does he think $27.98 will buy me a house? Buy me enough food to not die of starvation? Buy me enough drinks to not die of thirst? Buy me clothes so I don’t die of frost bite? Its Christmas, its New York, its freezing. Look at me! Living on the street, hungry, cold, thirsty, and, frankly, dying”. I scream this out loud as civilians pass by, staring at me. I bet they wonder what its like to be in my position. “It sucks! This isn’t fair. You people live in your homes, sipping Champagne and eating ginger bread while I stay out here dying. Its cold, isn’t it! Yeah it may be cold for you right now, but you will walk to your heated Cadillacs or your heated homes. Guess what? I NEVER LEAVE HERE! I am out here every day, every house, every minutes, every second. I stay here. Look outside your window at 6:09 am, 9:57 am, again at 12:33 pm, then at 5:18 pm, later at 9:40 pm, and right before you crawl into your bed at 11:22. I will be here every time!” I scream bitterly. “Give me more! Give me more!” This world is selfish, ignorant, arrogant. I wish I could just die already.

Literary Distillation

      In the expert from the AP English Literature and Composition, the narrator expresses a judgmental and disapproving attitude toward scientists for experimenting with natural things by using harsh, negative diction, switching point of views and imagery. Switching between the three major points of view, the narrator uses words and phrases such as "nasty pursuit", "miserable wretches", "cruel nastiness"and "nasty", and uses strong imagery to create a to create a negative and almost reprimanding tone of voice. This harsh, insulting tone creates a strong message to the audience that he does not like what they are doing, experimenting with nature and creatures, and that they need to eventually stop their acts against insects. The excerpt is a dismissive and somewhat ignorant "smack-talk" to the intellectual scientists, trying to better understand the natural word and its species living there.

200 word sentence

Many days, whether it be a weekend or a weekday, us teenagers spend our days lonely and bored staring at our vibrantly colored walls, occasionally with a chip or two in the corners, or refreshing our social media over and over again, waiting for someone to post something new and exciting, but nothing is every exciting enough to keep us entertained for more than a minute or so, or staring in the fridge, looking deep into it, opening it and closing it, expecting there to be something new and delicious every time it is opened, but of course it is the same old boring food mom bought last Sunday, eggs, milk, a few bagels, Jell-o, some fruit, apples, pears, strawberries, blueberries, one orange that no one has eaten yet because it was dropped on the floor or its too old to be attractive anymore, then, losing interest as easily as all of us teenagers do lately, we move onto something new, like maybe making some cookies or making cupcakes, or doing something helpful for our parents or siblings, like cleaning our rooms or cleaning the putting away the pile of laundry that has been piled up for weeks, but once that ends, we end up right back where we started, with our phones in our hands, refreshing and refreshing, looking for something new or interesting, but not finding anything worth the focus or entertaining enough for us.

Angry Letter

Dear Barbara’s Florist Delivery Man,

Walking into your florist shop, we were pleased automatically. Very nice customer service, great environment, positive atmosphere, and a welcoming staff. When visiting many local florists, my fiance and I were most impressed by your selection of flowers. Ranging from lilies to sunflowers to daisies to hydrangeas, we loved all the options we could choose from to make our big wedding day beautiful. Living in the city, we did not think that we would find many good places that would have live, vibrant flowers. Especially because our wedding was planned to be in the winter, we were skeptical about whether the flowers would last through the harsh weather, but you reassured us that they would be just as beautiful at our special day as they were when we saw them in mid spring.

Although we were impressed at your shop, we were even more impressed on our wedding day. All the purple hydrangeas were now beautifully dried out into shriveled up, brown, fragile petals, breaking with one breath on them. Also, we loved the fact that your delivery truck drove straight through the lawn of my Lake Pearl, where my reception setting, and ruined their lawn. Although you generously apologized, you showed much remorse when you came out of your truck laughing. When setting up the flowers, standing on the tables was probably your best idea since you broke nearly half the tables by jumping up and down on them. Although the music playing was loud and fun, dancing on a table when you are well over 200 pounds is not a good idea. Thank you for eating 76% of the food that would be provided at the reception as well! We were so glad that our guests had to stop at Friendly’s on the way to the reception and most of them also stopping at a near by McDonald’s or Wendy’s on the way home. At least we had the cake though! Oh wait, you accidentally knocked that over too while trying to run out of the room as quickly as you could so you could go home and watch American Idol. My husband and I greatly appreciate everything that you did for our wedding, but I do not suggest anyone else with a right mind to ever use any of your services.

Yours Truly.

Apostrophe, Synecdoche Metonymy

Sun

I sit here,

In the dark of my days.

I lay here,

feeling empty and tired.

I need you

during the days and the nights.

For you are the only thing to cheer me up.

For you are the only thing to make me happy.

This is to you,

Sun.

Wishes

I wish for her hair in the shower drain.

I wish for her clothes on the floor.

I wish for her tooth paste in the sink.

I wish for her perfume splashed on the bathroom sink.

I wish for the smell of her hair after it had just been washed.

I wish for her biggest smile after she had just sung her favorite song.

I wish for her.

I wish for all of her.

Unreliable Narrator or Unorthodox Point of View

The Letter

I was walking home from school one day when I came across a wet, but readable long piece of brown paper. The paper was crumbled up and damaged. I was seconds away from my house. I could not stop looking at the ground at this paper. Finally I picked up the paper off the ground and sat on the curb. I began to read it. I began to read the story of Jane Wright.

“Anyone who lives in Lakely, Michigan has heard the story of Jane Wright. Anyone who has visited the town, looked up Lakely, or watched the news in the past year or so knows Jane Wright. No official story has ever been confirmed and her parents have never confirmed nor denied any story to the public, but everyone knows the basis of the story of Jane Wright.

Jane had long blonde hair and vibrant green eyes with few freckles on her cheeks. She had long legs and was not exceptionally tall, but taller than most of her friends. She lived an ordinary life. Two parents, two siblings, a big dog with fur matching her hair, and a nice big house with a white picket fence and a green lawn. Jane was ordinary, but she was beautiful, often in different ways than most people were. Jane was brilliantly literate and extremely smart. She was brilliant. Not only academically, but she was smart in all ways imaginable. She had a deep vast mind with so many thoughts and ideas that trying to understand her was like trying to put a one thousand piece puzzle together while missing three of the pieces.

It was in 2010 when she left, or went missing. No one knows for sure what has happened to Jane. She was happy. Happy with her life, happy with her family, happy with her friends, happy with school and her part time job at the grocery store down the street. Happy. No indications of discomfort or fear or misfortune happening to her. Jane lived by the same schedule every day along with most kids. She woke up at 6:09, got to school at 7:27, got home at 2:12, did her homework for about 40 minutes, walked to work at 3:51 to start her 4 to 7:45 shift at Walts’ Grocery, her mom picked her up at 7:50 and then she was home for the night. On the weekends, this was not her schedule. She was not as innocent as she appeared to be. She went to parties in different towns with her friends every Saturday night and spent hours Sunday morning getting back to a right state of mind, cleaning herself up, and heading to work at 4. One weekend was not like the rest though.

June 7, 2010 her friends, Madi, Raegen and Mallory, and herself all went out, looking forward to having a good night. They pulled up to what looked like a frat house. It was big and a bit intimidating. It was about an hour away from Lakely. They had never been to a college party before, but they had all become sick of the town parties, doing the same thing over and over again.  Immediately getting to the house, there was a noticeable difference than most parties they had gone to. The house they were at was packed. No more than 6 inches in between every person in the entire house. They were all used to being with older people, but these people were old. Some of the guys looking like they should be at their full time job or home with their families or at jury duty right now.

‘Hello. I’m Greg, Why have I never seen you here before? I come here quite a bit on the weekends, but I would have noticed someone like you before’.

Greg was unfamiliar to Jane. He was tall, lean and looked harmless. He was handsome and confident, maybe a bit drunk at this point, but seemed to be in control of himself.

‘Hi. I’m Jane. My friends and I have never been here before. We aren’t used to this scene. We are more into just town parties, but we decided we wanted a bit of a change’.

‘Well’ Greg started, ‘I support your decision. You are surely beautiful, Too beautiful to be here alone, that’s for sure’.

‘No, I am’ Jane said with a laugh.

‘I just came with my three friends who I can no longer see at the moment. But I have no boyfriend if that is what you’re asking’ Jane said, a bit flirtatiously for the first conversation with someone.

‘I guess I am asking that, Jane. Here, come with me. Are you scared? I can tell you’re intimidated by all of this. You shouldn’t be. The whole party scene is just a bunch of kids with their own problems that need some fun to distract them from what is happening. Don’t be scared. I can take care of you. I will take care of everything’.

Greg was confident in a way that Jane couldn’t explain. He knew exactly what to say to instantly make Jane fall in love with him. A mesmerizing trait that he took advantage of.

‘Come with me, Jane. Have a drink and relax with me. If you get tired or sick then just tell me and we can slow down. I will take you upstairs or to my dorm to let you relax. When you’re rested up, you can come back’.

Greg was so reassuring for Jane. They walked outside to the cooler and both took a drink. One after the other after the other, Jane felt different. She wasn’t her usual drunk that she had been used to. She felt good, like she could keep going, but her body told her differently.

This is fun! This is good! You’re happy. Keep going. Keep going. You can last so much longer, Jane screamed her brain to her.

Stop! You can barely function. Stop while you still can, Jane said her body.

Jane walked toward Greg’s dorm, or what she thought was his dorm. Jane walked slowly then started to run, losing her mind to her drunken thoughts eventually taking over her actions.

‘Greg! Greg! Greg!’ she yelled over and over again looking for guidance and security that she could not find.

June 9, 2010 Jane Wright was reported missing after not returning home or being seen for about 40 hours. Nothing was found of her. Not a hair from her head or a fiber from her clothing. Some people think she stumbled away somewhere in a drunken confusion and she is still trying to find her way back. Some people think she ran far far away from her too predictable and scheduled life. Some people think she did something stupid and died, ran into the street, drowned in a puddle.

Frankly, I am not that dumb. I did not drunkenly run away to a far away land of confusion. I did not try to hide from my average life by leaving everyone. I did not die. Maybe I am dead by the time this is read by an outsider, but now, I am alive. I am in a cold, wet, one window, no bathroom, no bed basement of my kidnapper, Greg. The once handsome and devilishly charming party guy had taken me. I have no idea where I am. Maybe I am out of the country. Maybe I am in Lakely, seconds from my parents. My parents’ names are Terry and James Wright. The last time I was home they lived at 334 Elm Street in Lakely, Michigan. If this letter is ever read by anyone, please give this to my parents for closure they need or evidence the police might need, if they are even still looking by the time this is read.

Thank you,

Jane Wright

January 25, 2012. 3:12 am”.

I had just read the letter about Jane Wright’s kidnapping that she wrote herself. An autobiography about her own tragedy. The worst part about the entire letter? Jane was my sister.