Non Fiction Best Write


The Little Boy I Never Met


The sudden ringing of the phone startled me back into reality as I lay on my bed on the sleepy Monday afternoon. I drowsily answered the phone, expecting a familiar voice on the other end. Without really knowing what was going on at first I spoke into the inaudible sobs coming from the other line.
“Mom?” I asked. More sobs responded. “Mom, what happened? What’s wrong?” I spoke more urgently now, thinking in the back of my mind that this was just another one of mom’s attempts for my sympathy.
“You remember how we were just talking about Nicole’s baby boy, Devin?” she finally spoke.
“Yeah, I do, why do you ask?” I was starting to get scared, not knowing what was coming.
“He passed away in his sleep last night…can you imagine? Not even two months old yet…” She burst back into the uncontrollable sobs.
This isn’t happening. I told myself. Babies don’t die. Babies don’t die. Babies don’t die. It just kept repeating in my head like a broken record.
On instinct I asked the first question that came to my head, “How’s Nicole doing, is she alright?”
Mom’s weeping had minimized its self and we were able to hold the conversation now.
“As well as can be expected” she answered. “The funeral is on Friday, the burial is right after. I’d understand if you don’t want to come, but if you do, you can just follow us out to the church.”
It hadn’t sunk in and I was feeling like the worst person in the world. Why haven’t I cried? It was an odd question, but one I often thought over the next couple of days.
“Ambrosia, are you okay?” my dad asked me that Tuesday evening as we stood outside. “I worry about you when you get like this” he said.
“Get like what, dad?” I asked him, even though I already knew the response.
“Well, just, how are you holding up?” he asked.
“I don’t even know, I mean, I never even got to meet Devin while he was here, and I’ve been thinking, I don’t want the first and only time I see him to be at his funeral… but at the same time, I want so bad to go there and support Nicole…I just, what do I do now?” I answered him, flustered by the thought of it all.
“Calm down a little, now, it’s your choice little girl and either way I know Nicole would understand, but do what makes you feel comfortable, do the right thing.” he said as he walked over and squeezed me.
Before I knew what I even wanted I was in my black summer dress and the only pair of high-heeled shoes I owned and driving to my mom’s house on Friday morning. It was one of those damp, cloudy, weather-reflects-your-mood, kind of days. Mom rode with me and we followed my step-dad and brother, just in case I got lost she could help me out. The drive seemed to take forever, yet we were there before I knew what was happening. As I stepped out of the car I thought, I can’t believe this is happening. The whole morning had seemed so surreal. Was I really here?
I approached Nicole and Jesse at the door of the church, they were embracing each other in a way that only the parents of a lost child could.
I was immediately pulled into a hug and Nicole whispered in my ear “remember that that is not him, that is just the body he had here on earth.”
It still hadn’t hit me. This isn’t happening. I thought to myself again. I entered the church alone, but surrounded by people. I silently walked passed members of my family, some that I hadn’t even seen since I was six. I passed the rows of pews, entering from the back of the room, and headed to the tiny casket surrounded by lights and flowers at the head of the room. This isn’t happening. I heard myself think, faintly in the back of my mind.
When I reached the casket I hovered above it for what seemed like an hour, staring into the face of what must have become the most beautiful angel in all of heaven. So many thoughts raced through my mind. Why didn’t I just take the time to go see him when he was born? Why did God take him away now? This is actually happening. This is actually happening. This is actually happening. And with that I felt the warm tears spill down my cheeks. I bent down and kissed Devin’s forehead for the first and last time. As I stood there, weeping freely, I felt my mom’s arms wrap around me. She led me away from the casket and out of the room. We sat on a big comfy couch in silence; words wouldn’t come even if I’d tried. I cried into a clump of crinkled Kleenex thinking about what would happen next and realizing for the first time how much I loved the little boy I never met.

Three Poems



Now

I wonder what you’re doing now?
I suppose you’re better off.
You can watch your family grow,
Guide us through our loss.
We’re always thinking of you,
And I know you think if us.
We’ll all be together someday,
A family once again.


Childhood Friend

My pink bear, worn and tattered, like a rag. Squished fluff, it sits atop my pillow in the daytime. Faded pink, it keeps my secrets like a treasure, locked within its chest. When I look into its rubbed away, blackened eyes, I see my past, my present, my future--- and I realize I’m not alone.



All I Need

One window is all I need
To see the world for all it is,
And all it can be.
I see the good before the bad
I look for the hope beyond the sad
And I look ahead to a brighter day.

Fiction Best Write


Possibility
As they entered the 7th Street Venue that they all knew so well, they felt the rush of warm inside-air burst over their cold wind-chapped faces. Jack, who usually spends all of his time away from school working at the 7th Street Venue, requested the night off upon hearing that his favorite band would be playing there that night. He was ecstatic at the idea of spending the whole night with his twin brother David, their closest friends, and of course the girl he liked.
“Hey, it’s Jack and David!” shouted the doorman, Sam, over the noise of the crowd as the group entered. He took Jacks hand and shook it so hard, Jack feared for the well being of his fingers.
“Hey Sam,” asked Jack, “what’s the word on the show tonight? Big crowd?” As he squeezed his way through a group of girls who were obnoxiously giggling as they stared at Jack and his friends.
“Well, nothing compared to our biggest nights,” answered Sam, “but you better believe they have quite a fan base for such a small town.” Sam helped them along and passed them through the line without checking for tickets, it was one of Jack’s favorite perks of his job.
He looked around and realized to himself that there wasn’t one face that he didn’t recognize. Sure, it varied from concert to concert, but when you work at the only Venue that ever gets any bands basically in all of North Dakota, you tend to know all of the regular concert- goers. As he and his friends wandered around the crowd, here and there people would call out either his or David’s (who worked there as well) name and wave an excited “hello” to them as they passed. Jack silently thought to himself ‘I wonder if it impresses Veda that people always know me… or if it makes her think I’m stuck up.’ He contemplated the different aspects of it to himself as they found the spot they usually stood in, just next to the speakers, off to the right. This was Jacks favorite spot to watch a show from because you were always close enough to almost reach out and touch the band onstage, yet you were far enough away that if you didn’t want to be in the moshpit, you weren’t in the moshpit.
He flipped the hair out of his face just long enough to catch Veda’s eye. He thought to himself ‘she’s so perfect… but how could I mess up the amazing friendship we have?’ Veda gave him a nervous smile and turned her attention to the stage, where the opening band now stood.
The lights dimmed and the crowd cheered as the notes to their first song vibrated through the floor. Upon noticing Jack’s intent stare at Veda, David pulled him aside and shouted over the noise.
“What are you doing to yourself, man?” David shouted to his brother as they battled their way toward the bar.
“What do you even mean?” Jack asked nervously, even though he knew.
“I see the way you look at Veda, why don’t you just give it a shot?” David’s shouts were a little louder now as the fans began to cheer for the beginning of the next song.
“What if things didn’t work out?” Jack pleaded to his brother. “What would I do with myself if I lost her as my girlfriend and my friend someday?”
“Don’t worry so much about it, the least you owe to yourself and her is to try and see what happens… everyone knows you’re both head- over- heels for each other.” David handed the bartender a ten with a smile and took the two waters from him. He handed one to Jack as they pushed their way through the crowd and back to the group of friends they had left behind.
David noticed Veda’s attention drift from the singer onstage over to Jack as they finally burst their way back to their old spots.
“Look,” David said to Jack just out of earshot of the others, “ don’t do this to yourself, all I’m saying is think about it and give it a chance.”
He turned his attention to the stage now as the second band started their set. “You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”
Jack took a gulp of his water, more out of habit than actual thirst, and thought about his conversation with his brother. ‘Could I really pass up such a great possibility?’ He wondered. His gaze rested once again upon the one person he so longed to be with and for the first time he actually saw what he’d been looking at all along.

Journals


10-28-05

She was my best friend. She was the one person I could turn to, no matter what happened or who hurt me. My parents used to have jpint custody, the day I moved into my dad's house due to a three year battle my mom and I, she was there for me. Her roof was the first I climbed up to, only to realize for the first time my horrid fear of heights, and not be able to get back down. For over an hour she sat trying to talk me into climbing down, I finally did because she promised she'd be there, and she was. The first time my heart was broken, she spent hours listening to me sob about it and letting me know that at least someone cared. In five years of close friendship, she never once gave me reason to doubt her. So how could one event, a momentary lapse in judgement maybe, have made everything so different? I felt like a huge hole had been burned into our friendship that couldn't ever be fixed. How do I deal with it? How am I supposed to feel? What do you do? Where do you turn, when the one person you always run to when you're hurt, is the person who's hurting you now?


10-31-05

Every fall my family goes up to our cabin on Sylvan lake in Brainerd and we usually have a bonfire every night if the wood isn't wet and the weather is barable. As it gets closer to Halloween, my dad usually tries to tell scary stories, ("tries" being the key word here). He's been telling the same story for as long as I can remember. We'll all sit around the fire and my dad will get up and pace between us in circles around the pit. He tells the story in a quiet, spooky voice. The story is about a man who lost his arm (I always forget how, or maybe my dad's just never actully said how), and he gets it replaced with an artificial golden arm. When the man dies years later, someone robs his grave and takes the golden arm. Then the spirit of the man wanders around at night saying: "who stole my gloden arm? Who stole my golden arm?" And then dad grabs the shoulder of the person closest to him and yells: "was it you!?" If there's ever anyone new around the fire, they're the first one he goes for. It's always fun to see how everyone reacts to it, and it's always taken in such a funny atmosphere. It's something my dad has been doing for as long as I can remember and it's one of the things about him that I'll always remember.


11-1-05

After a long night of attending Halloween party after Halloween party, Adam found himself at one where he really felt comfortable. He mingled with the mass amounts of other party-goers just looking for a good time. There was a live band that would play any song upon request. They played everything from the Backstreet Boys to Abba. There were countless couples dancing across the floor and so many costumes you'd think it was a dream. There were the usual zombies, witches, mummies, etc.; and then there were a few unusuals. A man dressed as a Q-tip waltzed by with his arm around a woman that looked to be dressed as a fire hydrant. While Adam was enjoying the sights, sounds, and costumes, he realized he was quite hungry. He wandered around the dining table , selecting a few things here and there. A handfull of grape eyeballs, a bowl of brain cassarol, and a few witch- finger cookies later, he realized how thirsty he was. He found his way to the bar and drank down as much as he could handle. With the bathroom calling, he found his way down the hall and a couple of turns to a door with a clock above it.
"hmm... two a.m., I better get going soon..." Adam said to himself. He swung open the girls' bathroom door, figuring it appropriate for the situation, to find none other than George Bush staring back at him.
"How could you?" yelled Adam in shock.
"How could you do this to me? To your country?" He pleaded.
"I...I don't know what you mean..." stuttered Bush.
"What were you thinking?" yelled Adam, with more power in his voice now.
"I-I wasn't..." answered a horror struck Bush.
"I thought I would be the only guy in a miniskirt and high heels tonight!" yelled Adam, as he ripped Bush's tube top, turned on his heel, and stormed out.

Poetry Best Write


I'll do the Right Thing, Dad

Hi, I'm home.
School was okay.
No, that doesn't mean it was horrible.
Nothing that I don't do every other day.
Yes, I saw my friends today.
They're all okay.
No, that doesn't mean we're fighting.
Actually, Hannah and I are going over to Jane's tonight.
No, there won't be drugs there.
Her parents are home.
No, I'm not lying.
Yes, I cleaned out the car.
Yes, I'll clean the bathroom.
Fine, I'll sweep.
And vacuum.
No, that wasn't attitude.
Hold on, I'll get Dade.
No, he's just crying, I'll get him.
So, can I go to Jane's?
There won't be drugs!
Or alcohol!
Yes, there will be guys there.
No, I won't have sex with them.
You know, teenagers can control themselves.
Yes, I do want my hair in my face.
You tell me that everyday.
Is it okay if I go to Jane's?
I'll eat dinner at home tomorrow night.
I promise, I'll be okay.
No, I'm not getting angry.
Answer me and I'll have less attitude.
She says it's fine.
Okay, I'll be home by midnight.
Yes, my homework's done.
No drugs!
Fine, I'll call before then.
I love you too.
Goodnight.

The End of Forever

Don't bother feeling bad,
You never have before.
I don't even care now,
I'm past the place where that phases me.
It wouldn't be the first time,
one of you has done this to me.
Call me a hypocrite,
I don't care.

I'd never sacrafice our
friendship
over something so
trivial,
but I guess that's where the
differnece
is between
you and me.
I hope it makes you happier now,
knowing I feel like shit.
One of us should at leaste be satisfied.
I don't want your goddamn
sympathy,
spare me your
emotions.
I told you,
I don't care.
Which probably wouldn't affect you anyway.
As long as you're happy,
right?
Well, then i hope you
are.

Don't bother telling me you're
sorry,
I'm sick of hearing it.
The words are useless now.
I always thought you were one of the few
who'd never do something like
this.

Now you have.
And here I am.
What do I do?
Look at how
lost
I
am.

Fine, I'll admit it.
I
do
care.

Grandpa

You lay there,
I watched.
He spoke,
I listened.
We prayed.
I thought of
your past.
I dreamed of
my future.
Soon you'd be
gone.
Seventeen years
you watched me
grow.
I wondered what would
happen now?
Would each day be
harder?
Would each winter be
longer?
I wish you knew
what you
meant
to
me.
I kissed your
cheek.
I pulled you
close.

For that moment
I
felt
it
all.

Your pain.
Your happiness.
Your anger.
Your joy.
Your sadness.
Your hope for my
future.

My tears fell to you,
you recieved them gladly.
One last glance,
and with seventeen years
wrapped in one
moment,
you
were
gone.