One thing that I always find upsetting is when people tell you to stop following your dreams and passions! If you inspire to do something, then I think you should follow them. I myself have met so many people who are always telling me to stop following my dreams and to give up my passions, for something more realistic. I want to be a painter or an actor when I grow up, every person I've told that to has laughed at me and said to try for something else. After a while I thought it was just me, but I've relaized that everyone, young or old, has had someone tell them to "keep dreaming."
I couldn't really think of any reason for anyone to refuses someones dream. After thingking about it, the first thing I could think of was the person jsut trying to be annoying. Then after that, I though "Could it be possible for someone else to tell this person to not follow their dreams?" If that is it, then this is all just the domino effect in the act, and it's just a horrible thing to do.
But, most parts of the world are horrible.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Historical Fiction
It’s a little know fact that most deaths in the civil war were because of disease. Most people went off to believe that those gun shots were the main reason. Let me tell you, they sure gave bad wounds, men sure wailed when they got shot, but they were nowhere near as fatal as the aftermath of the shot. My name is Violet Lee, not that it matters. As a nurse, most people just call me “ma’am” or “miss.” I don’t have a name here, I don’t need one anyway. As a nurse, I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to save lives. Not that I can’t make some friends along the way, I know that when I left my home in Kentucky that I shouldn’t be a social butterfly, but I couldn’t help it. Easter Mae, an older nurse from Maryland, calls it southern hospitality. Most don’t know what it is, Men think it’s nice to talk to someone while recovering in a short time. Doctors find it annoying. Easter Mae and I find it natural.
There were many days I could find myself doing nothing. In this time I would jabber and ramble on to Easter Mae. Even if she was busy, she would just listen. Or, at least pretend to listen. It was early morning, the sun was just about to come up. It was about eight or nine on October 7th. Easter Mae and I weren’t allowed to wander away from camp, just to make sure we wouldn’t get captured. We were two of the three nurses that worked under one littler known general, Alexander M. Cook, along with three surgeons of course. The few soldiers we were working on weren’t awake yet, but the remainder of the fleet was. A messenger had just came to our camp and informed up the union was getting dangerously close to Perryville, by home town and the border. We were to get closer, then just watch in case they were to attack. We were the trump card, this is usually what General Cook was used for. The other nurse was working on one of the two patients in intensive care. The others were all very stable, Just gunshot wounds that have a high chance of becoming infected, and if that were the case, then amputation.
I, naturally, was worried. I chattered to Easter Mae like no tomorrow. I didn’t have much family in Perryville anymore, my father died when I was younger, my Brothers were in the war, and my mother was in the care of my older sister who was in Illinois. I still had a few cousins, but other than that, it was all just memories. After being discharged I always planned on moving there and moving my mother back to me in Perryville, along with my sister, and starting a family of my own. It was rare that a girl my age was still unmarried. I had been working with medicine all my life, and against my mother’s wishes, I became a nurse. I was swamped with work, and finally decided to join the confederates as a nurse.
“Easter Mae, I’m beyond worried.” I began, “What if we don’t win? Everything I’m working for would be lost! Oh, Easter Mae, I must settle my nerves…” I sighed, then plopped down as gracefully as possible on a rock.
“My lord Violet! What are you worrying about?” She said down beautifully on the rock. “We’re butternuts, we won’t lose to some union soldiers.” Easter Mae always had a thick southern accent. Mine wasn’t as strong as hers but I had one. It reminded me of my mother. “Besides. Things are different in this stage of the game. The general even said, if we lose this, we will lose Kentucky.”
I swallowed hard, lose Kentucky?! I couldn’t bare it. I placed my hand on my chest and held back the tears. Easter Mae looked at me worried.
“Dearie, I didn’t mean that way! I meant that General Alexander won’t allow us to lose. He’d rather lose his own life than lose Kentucky. He used to live here as well you know!” she moved a lock a lose hair behind her ear. “honestly Violet, It’ll be alright.”
I believed her. Easter Mae was very wise, she had two or three kids at home with her older sister. Her husband was on the defensive line in Maryland, so he was fairly close to their home. She was a very religious woman, she will always have faith. But I don’t know that in this line that I can.
Later, General Alexander called that we were to hold our place until morning. I quickly went from free to busy in a matter of moments, when a gunman realized his arm was infected. The surgeon I work with and I had to quickly amputate it. It’s down to a ten minute process, the sad part is that they only have a few short hours in the recovery tent for rehab. This time it was young one, He was about sixteen and lost his left arm. He won’t be able to fight much longer, chances of him actually surviving are slimmer than none. We’re in the middle of a clearing, there isn’t much to clean wounds with in this stage of the war, and we won’t replenish supplies until sometime next week. Poor boy had so much to look for, but he wouldn’t be the first.
As he slept the later afternoon away, I worried. Easter Mae was cleaning up her tools, something done sparingly. Kentucky is a strong state, The fleet that spotted the union this morning was a strong one too, and we might not even have to attack, we only will if needed. It was all positives here, yet I still worried.
It was soon night fall, The nurses would sleep in our own tent. My stomach was churning the whole night through, Tomorrow we would be on watch, and (most likely) attack. Things don’t seem to be playing in my odds, I have no chance. I hope things will be okay. The last thing I can remember thinking about before going into my light, short sleep was my mother. I missed her, she was safe hiding in Union territory, But it just didn’t seem to be enough.
I slept for about an hour that night, I woke up again when Easter Mae and the other nurse woke up. We had to pack up and get ready, General Alex Said that changers are higher to attack than they are to not. The Doctors, Nurses, and wounded men all would be hiding in a wagon, until we were sent to bring wounded men in, or, it seriously wounded enough, start treating them on the battlefield. I have yet to be pushed into doing that, but Easter Mae has. She says it scary.
We load the wounded men into the wagon, there’s two, so there is plenty of space. The surgeons get out the necessary tools to amputate anything. I got into the wagon, my heart was pounding, Easter Mae and the other nurse Sat next to me, then the surgeons loaded on last. If the union were to play dirty enough and try to hunt down out medical and shoot at us, the surgeons would protect the nurses and other men.
The time came, General Alexander got onto his horse and pointed his arm to the sky.
“Company!” He began, he studied the vast majority of soldiers and two wagons. “Move out, begin to attack when you spot those Yankees!”
The soldiers cheered and began marching. The weakest were in the front of the fleet, and stronger in the back. In the far back, surrounded by a few soldiers, were us, the medicals. My heart was thumping, if we were to win this battle for Kentucky I would talk to Alexander about being discharged and then count my blessings, After this war, I’m done. No more, a Young woman like me shouldn’t be here, I should still be in the hospital.
But what I should and shouldn’t be doing don’t matter. I had to survive this. Not like it would be hard, only cheep soldiers would strike a nurse in the battle field.
And then it started, my eyesight became blurry, my legs like jelly. Gun shots began, the general on the union, I don’t remember his name, yelled out. The surgeons began to hop out of the wagon to gather wounded men. Us three nurses still sat in the wagon, we couldn’t see the battle, we were hidden. But from how many men were being dragged back to the wagon, it looked like we were winning.
And boy, was I wrong. Everything ended in an instant. The surgeon I work with ran up to me. His voice stern and serious, “Violet Lee, we have to get onto he warzone. Too many men are being shot out, We have to begin out there.”
I swallowed hard and quickly got out of the wagon. I followed my surgeon, he led it right into the middle of the fighting, and began to amputate a man’s leg. Everything was loud, I could barely hear the commands the surgeon gave me. I couldn’t pay attention to my work. I looked around, I didn’t want to but I did. No young lady like myself should even have to see this. Men getting killed because of a sly disagreement! The surgeon was saying something to me, but I can’t understand, something caught my eye, it was her.
It was my mother, She was standing there in the middle of the battle, smiling like she always was. I began to rise from the kneeling position on the ground. I felt the surgeon tug on my dress, but that didn’t matter anymore. My mother wasn’t in Illinois. She was here, in the middle of absolute madness. I began to walk towards her, stepping over men’s guns and bodies.
“Mom!” I called out, I didn’t get a response from her, she was staring at something else.
“Mom! Mom!” I yelled it louder, I was prepared to scream for her. I ran up to her, grasped her shoulders tightly, she was taller than I remembered.
“Mom, What are you doing here?! You… You… You have to get home! Or to the church, someplace safe! Come on mom, I’ll take you to Mrs. Beatle’s house, you’ll be okay there. “
Mom didn’t reply, she looked at me as if I was insane. Her eyes were wide, I felt a sting in my back, there was someone yelling my name. Then there was another sting, a little lower than the last. Then mom began to cry, she finally spoke to me. “I’m sorry miss. I’m not your mom.”
There were tears in his and my eyes as everything came back. I wasn’t holding on to my mother, I was grasping the shoulders of a young man. He looked down, as did I. My dress was stained red. I was shot at while in a hallucination of my own. He looked up at me, I knew deep down that I won’t survive. I was shot three times. Blood was spilling out of me, my time was ending. The man knew I didn’t have a chance to survive even in the least. I hung my head, and closed my eyes.
There were a bunch of people calling my name now, I could hear Easter Mae hysterically screaming. I didn’t dare look back, they would give me false hope, they would tell me I would survive. I didn’t have a chance. I looked up to the man, he was readying his gun. I hung my head again, I could hear him cock the gun.
Someone was running up to me now. The man looked at me, “I’m sorry.” He stated as he aimed. I inhaled, then everything just ended.
There were many days I could find myself doing nothing. In this time I would jabber and ramble on to Easter Mae. Even if she was busy, she would just listen. Or, at least pretend to listen. It was early morning, the sun was just about to come up. It was about eight or nine on October 7th. Easter Mae and I weren’t allowed to wander away from camp, just to make sure we wouldn’t get captured. We were two of the three nurses that worked under one littler known general, Alexander M. Cook, along with three surgeons of course. The few soldiers we were working on weren’t awake yet, but the remainder of the fleet was. A messenger had just came to our camp and informed up the union was getting dangerously close to Perryville, by home town and the border. We were to get closer, then just watch in case they were to attack. We were the trump card, this is usually what General Cook was used for. The other nurse was working on one of the two patients in intensive care. The others were all very stable, Just gunshot wounds that have a high chance of becoming infected, and if that were the case, then amputation.
I, naturally, was worried. I chattered to Easter Mae like no tomorrow. I didn’t have much family in Perryville anymore, my father died when I was younger, my Brothers were in the war, and my mother was in the care of my older sister who was in Illinois. I still had a few cousins, but other than that, it was all just memories. After being discharged I always planned on moving there and moving my mother back to me in Perryville, along with my sister, and starting a family of my own. It was rare that a girl my age was still unmarried. I had been working with medicine all my life, and against my mother’s wishes, I became a nurse. I was swamped with work, and finally decided to join the confederates as a nurse.
“Easter Mae, I’m beyond worried.” I began, “What if we don’t win? Everything I’m working for would be lost! Oh, Easter Mae, I must settle my nerves…” I sighed, then plopped down as gracefully as possible on a rock.
“My lord Violet! What are you worrying about?” She said down beautifully on the rock. “We’re butternuts, we won’t lose to some union soldiers.” Easter Mae always had a thick southern accent. Mine wasn’t as strong as hers but I had one. It reminded me of my mother. “Besides. Things are different in this stage of the game. The general even said, if we lose this, we will lose Kentucky.”
I swallowed hard, lose Kentucky?! I couldn’t bare it. I placed my hand on my chest and held back the tears. Easter Mae looked at me worried.
“Dearie, I didn’t mean that way! I meant that General Alexander won’t allow us to lose. He’d rather lose his own life than lose Kentucky. He used to live here as well you know!” she moved a lock a lose hair behind her ear. “honestly Violet, It’ll be alright.”
I believed her. Easter Mae was very wise, she had two or three kids at home with her older sister. Her husband was on the defensive line in Maryland, so he was fairly close to their home. She was a very religious woman, she will always have faith. But I don’t know that in this line that I can.
Later, General Alexander called that we were to hold our place until morning. I quickly went from free to busy in a matter of moments, when a gunman realized his arm was infected. The surgeon I work with and I had to quickly amputate it. It’s down to a ten minute process, the sad part is that they only have a few short hours in the recovery tent for rehab. This time it was young one, He was about sixteen and lost his left arm. He won’t be able to fight much longer, chances of him actually surviving are slimmer than none. We’re in the middle of a clearing, there isn’t much to clean wounds with in this stage of the war, and we won’t replenish supplies until sometime next week. Poor boy had so much to look for, but he wouldn’t be the first.
As he slept the later afternoon away, I worried. Easter Mae was cleaning up her tools, something done sparingly. Kentucky is a strong state, The fleet that spotted the union this morning was a strong one too, and we might not even have to attack, we only will if needed. It was all positives here, yet I still worried.
It was soon night fall, The nurses would sleep in our own tent. My stomach was churning the whole night through, Tomorrow we would be on watch, and (most likely) attack. Things don’t seem to be playing in my odds, I have no chance. I hope things will be okay. The last thing I can remember thinking about before going into my light, short sleep was my mother. I missed her, she was safe hiding in Union territory, But it just didn’t seem to be enough.
I slept for about an hour that night, I woke up again when Easter Mae and the other nurse woke up. We had to pack up and get ready, General Alex Said that changers are higher to attack than they are to not. The Doctors, Nurses, and wounded men all would be hiding in a wagon, until we were sent to bring wounded men in, or, it seriously wounded enough, start treating them on the battlefield. I have yet to be pushed into doing that, but Easter Mae has. She says it scary.
We load the wounded men into the wagon, there’s two, so there is plenty of space. The surgeons get out the necessary tools to amputate anything. I got into the wagon, my heart was pounding, Easter Mae and the other nurse Sat next to me, then the surgeons loaded on last. If the union were to play dirty enough and try to hunt down out medical and shoot at us, the surgeons would protect the nurses and other men.
The time came, General Alexander got onto his horse and pointed his arm to the sky.
“Company!” He began, he studied the vast majority of soldiers and two wagons. “Move out, begin to attack when you spot those Yankees!”
The soldiers cheered and began marching. The weakest were in the front of the fleet, and stronger in the back. In the far back, surrounded by a few soldiers, were us, the medicals. My heart was thumping, if we were to win this battle for Kentucky I would talk to Alexander about being discharged and then count my blessings, After this war, I’m done. No more, a Young woman like me shouldn’t be here, I should still be in the hospital.
But what I should and shouldn’t be doing don’t matter. I had to survive this. Not like it would be hard, only cheep soldiers would strike a nurse in the battle field.
And then it started, my eyesight became blurry, my legs like jelly. Gun shots began, the general on the union, I don’t remember his name, yelled out. The surgeons began to hop out of the wagon to gather wounded men. Us three nurses still sat in the wagon, we couldn’t see the battle, we were hidden. But from how many men were being dragged back to the wagon, it looked like we were winning.
And boy, was I wrong. Everything ended in an instant. The surgeon I work with ran up to me. His voice stern and serious, “Violet Lee, we have to get onto he warzone. Too many men are being shot out, We have to begin out there.”
I swallowed hard and quickly got out of the wagon. I followed my surgeon, he led it right into the middle of the fighting, and began to amputate a man’s leg. Everything was loud, I could barely hear the commands the surgeon gave me. I couldn’t pay attention to my work. I looked around, I didn’t want to but I did. No young lady like myself should even have to see this. Men getting killed because of a sly disagreement! The surgeon was saying something to me, but I can’t understand, something caught my eye, it was her.
It was my mother, She was standing there in the middle of the battle, smiling like she always was. I began to rise from the kneeling position on the ground. I felt the surgeon tug on my dress, but that didn’t matter anymore. My mother wasn’t in Illinois. She was here, in the middle of absolute madness. I began to walk towards her, stepping over men’s guns and bodies.
“Mom!” I called out, I didn’t get a response from her, she was staring at something else.
“Mom! Mom!” I yelled it louder, I was prepared to scream for her. I ran up to her, grasped her shoulders tightly, she was taller than I remembered.
“Mom, What are you doing here?! You… You… You have to get home! Or to the church, someplace safe! Come on mom, I’ll take you to Mrs. Beatle’s house, you’ll be okay there. “
Mom didn’t reply, she looked at me as if I was insane. Her eyes were wide, I felt a sting in my back, there was someone yelling my name. Then there was another sting, a little lower than the last. Then mom began to cry, she finally spoke to me. “I’m sorry miss. I’m not your mom.”
There were tears in his and my eyes as everything came back. I wasn’t holding on to my mother, I was grasping the shoulders of a young man. He looked down, as did I. My dress was stained red. I was shot at while in a hallucination of my own. He looked up at me, I knew deep down that I won’t survive. I was shot three times. Blood was spilling out of me, my time was ending. The man knew I didn’t have a chance to survive even in the least. I hung my head, and closed my eyes.
There were a bunch of people calling my name now, I could hear Easter Mae hysterically screaming. I didn’t dare look back, they would give me false hope, they would tell me I would survive. I didn’t have a chance. I looked up to the man, he was readying his gun. I hung my head again, I could hear him cock the gun.
Someone was running up to me now. The man looked at me, “I’m sorry.” He stated as he aimed. I inhaled, then everything just ended.
Monday, May 10, 2010
DA TALE OF STRING.
Today, a good friend of mine, Eric Beidlingmaiuore, adopted somethign very special. He adopted his very own piece of string. The string is Vietnam, and isd currently orange. Eric, being such a nice man, put the piece of stirng to live in his nine key in his computer. I am veryhappy for the addition on his family.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Internet MeMe
RULES: 1. READ EACH RULE. 2. You must answer each question. Just saying "i don't know." or "I don't have one." will not work. 3. you must post the rules somewhere on the same post as your answers to the questions.
1. What is your name?
Shelby
2. What is your Favorite song(s) of all time?
Wonder Wall by Oasis or Sweet Child of Mine.
3. What is your favorite Rock song? (just one)
Devor by Marilyn Manson
4. What is your favorite pop song? (just one)
Bad ROmance by Lady GaGa
5. What is your favorite Rap or country song?
I really don't listen to either... but I guess
6. Who is your favorite singer?
Madonna. Lady Gaga, or Mairlyn Manson
7. WHo is your favorite band?
Marilyn Manson or Motley Cru or the Cure
8. How many live concerts have you seen?
3
9. Your done, Tag three friends to do the meme!
Teah, Dylan, and Kaira.
1. What is your name?
Shelby
2. What is your Favorite song(s) of all time?
Wonder Wall by Oasis or Sweet Child of Mine.
3. What is your favorite Rock song? (just one)
Devor by Marilyn Manson
4. What is your favorite pop song? (just one)
Bad ROmance by Lady GaGa
5. What is your favorite Rap or country song?
I really don't listen to either... but I guess
6. Who is your favorite singer?
Madonna. Lady Gaga, or Mairlyn Manson
7. WHo is your favorite band?
Marilyn Manson or Motley Cru or the Cure
8. How many live concerts have you seen?
3
9. Your done, Tag three friends to do the meme!
Teah, Dylan, and Kaira.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Creative Story
Her breath caught as she saw him standing there, sun dancing in his eyes.
Harriet Self was not expecting more in live expect to be a star. Since her young age of four, she knew deep in her heart that she was going to become the next Marilyn Monroe. She always believed that the camera longed for her, that without her on the a-list in the future the world would be boring or dull. She did everything in her power to meet this goal, that why when her father came down with lung cancer on the day of her first audition, she threw most of her life away.
Harriet’s parent had a different last name than herself. Her mother had been remarried twice, Harriet’s real father had heart problems, and died when he had a heart attack. John Less, her step father, tried his best to make Harriet feel like he was there. He tried his best, to not take the place of her father, but let her know that when she needed him he was there. He was selfless. Harriet could remember push him away whenever he tried to help, he always smelt like cigarettes, it was John’s only problem. He always attempted to help others out, so there was never any time for him to try quitting. Thus, when he had discovered his lung cancer, Harriet blamed no one but him. Harriet didn’t rush to the doctor’s office when she found out about the cancer like her mother did. She also didn’t go home and cry, like her parents did, when they had found out her step-father only had a month left. She stayed at the audition, and got the lead in an upcoming musical.
The remainder of John’s life was spent helping Harriet out. He volunteered at the musical, he helped her memorize lines, he put her out there, spoke to four different directors, three different modeling agencies, all in attemptation to make her famous, to help her discover her dream, and it worked. Harriet was found by one of the directors John had spoken to, and the rest is history. Harriet missed John’s funeral, she moved to Hollywood the day he died, and never looked back.
That was forever ago, now, Harriet Self is Harriet Ish. She’s twenty and married to Alex Ish. She barely sees him, they don’t even live in the same house. Neither of them could give up their multimillion dollar homes, so they both kept them. The buzz of an old alarm clock went off, and Harriet smacked it with force.
She inhaled deeply as she slid on her favorite pair of slippers, Her breathing was not what it used to be. Her heart wasn’t the greatest, much like her fathers, then with her smoking, things just aren’t as they should be. She stepped into her oversized closet and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She was expected at a commercial shooting today, so no matter what she had choosen to wear they would make her change into a costume anyway.
She made her way down her stairs, a light coat over the tee and slipped her shoes on. She looked in the mail, there it was again. Harriet was to sign divorce papers, her husband had caught her cheating. Since they didn’t truly live anywhere near each other, he would usually send her the papers. Normally any sane person would sign the papers and move on, but Harriet knew deep down that she couldn’t do that. She would end up like her mother, four different husbands, and in Harriet’s eyes, all useless.
Now in her car, she was driving down the road to the studio. Her hood on her deep red corvette was down. Tourists pointed at her and she cruised down Hollywood Avenue. She smiled to herself, these people were her fans, and some idolized her like she once idolized Marilyn Monroe. This was the first time in her life that she had realized how far she had come. Turning to into the Fox Networks, she was preparing to shoot a commercial for a retro makeup brand. Retro was her style she had this in the bag.
Her high heels clanked as she stepped into the studio’s cold hard concrete floor. The place where she would be shooting a commercial was the popular scene in New York City. Her smile widened from ear to ear, giddy with excitement she waltzed over to her agent.
“Darling!” The older woman began. “I know this commercial will do some pretty great things for you. It’s a retro make-up brand titled Monroe. By the look on your face I think I know that you know who you’ll be poising as in this ad” She took a pause to inhale. “Your makeup and hair artist are in the dressing room on the left, the third door down. Your costume will be there too, we’ll start shooting soon after you’re ready. Your lines are simple, there’s no script, just some cue cards, so I’m sure this will be easy.”
Harriet nodded. Easy was good. She stepped into the dressing room to be greeted by hair curlers and make-up brushes. Soon after her make-up was completed she was left in the room alone. The dress was like no other, Marilyn Monroe’s signature white dress. It was no hassle to slide it on. She put on the matching white heels and began to step out of the room when something caught her eye. She could have sworn there was a man sitting in the chair. Shrugging it off, she walked out to the set. No one was around.
She began to feel odd. You know the feeling you get when something bad is about to happen? Yeah, that’s how she felt. She could hear her cell phone ring from the dressing room, but didn’t bother to go look. She was technically working, although no one was around she had to focus on her job.
“Hello?”her rich voice called out. “Hello?”
Taking a few steps to the other side of the room, her call we answered.
“Hello.” A Man called out. Harriet turned around to be greeted by a face she shouldn’t be seeing. The feeling like lighting hit her had run its course through her body. Her left arm went numb, she clenched her heart, and collapsed to the ground. He body began to shiver and she screamed. It didn’t help, no one was around. When the violent shakes finished and sight began to flood with bright light, she looked over to the man.
She inhaled deeply, her lungs hurt as she did this. Her breath caught as she saw him standing there, sun dancing in his eyes. John Less was not dead and was not rotting in a hole somewhere, stood right in front of her. She couldn’t exhale; her eyelids began to feel heavy. John smiled and she finally gave in, and let her eyes close.
Harriet Self was not expecting more in live expect to be a star. Since her young age of four, she knew deep in her heart that she was going to become the next Marilyn Monroe. She always believed that the camera longed for her, that without her on the a-list in the future the world would be boring or dull. She did everything in her power to meet this goal, that why when her father came down with lung cancer on the day of her first audition, she threw most of her life away.
Harriet’s parent had a different last name than herself. Her mother had been remarried twice, Harriet’s real father had heart problems, and died when he had a heart attack. John Less, her step father, tried his best to make Harriet feel like he was there. He tried his best, to not take the place of her father, but let her know that when she needed him he was there. He was selfless. Harriet could remember push him away whenever he tried to help, he always smelt like cigarettes, it was John’s only problem. He always attempted to help others out, so there was never any time for him to try quitting. Thus, when he had discovered his lung cancer, Harriet blamed no one but him. Harriet didn’t rush to the doctor’s office when she found out about the cancer like her mother did. She also didn’t go home and cry, like her parents did, when they had found out her step-father only had a month left. She stayed at the audition, and got the lead in an upcoming musical.
The remainder of John’s life was spent helping Harriet out. He volunteered at the musical, he helped her memorize lines, he put her out there, spoke to four different directors, three different modeling agencies, all in attemptation to make her famous, to help her discover her dream, and it worked. Harriet was found by one of the directors John had spoken to, and the rest is history. Harriet missed John’s funeral, she moved to Hollywood the day he died, and never looked back.
That was forever ago, now, Harriet Self is Harriet Ish. She’s twenty and married to Alex Ish. She barely sees him, they don’t even live in the same house. Neither of them could give up their multimillion dollar homes, so they both kept them. The buzz of an old alarm clock went off, and Harriet smacked it with force.
She inhaled deeply as she slid on her favorite pair of slippers, Her breathing was not what it used to be. Her heart wasn’t the greatest, much like her fathers, then with her smoking, things just aren’t as they should be. She stepped into her oversized closet and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She was expected at a commercial shooting today, so no matter what she had choosen to wear they would make her change into a costume anyway.
She made her way down her stairs, a light coat over the tee and slipped her shoes on. She looked in the mail, there it was again. Harriet was to sign divorce papers, her husband had caught her cheating. Since they didn’t truly live anywhere near each other, he would usually send her the papers. Normally any sane person would sign the papers and move on, but Harriet knew deep down that she couldn’t do that. She would end up like her mother, four different husbands, and in Harriet’s eyes, all useless.
Now in her car, she was driving down the road to the studio. Her hood on her deep red corvette was down. Tourists pointed at her and she cruised down Hollywood Avenue. She smiled to herself, these people were her fans, and some idolized her like she once idolized Marilyn Monroe. This was the first time in her life that she had realized how far she had come. Turning to into the Fox Networks, she was preparing to shoot a commercial for a retro makeup brand. Retro was her style she had this in the bag.
Her high heels clanked as she stepped into the studio’s cold hard concrete floor. The place where she would be shooting a commercial was the popular scene in New York City. Her smile widened from ear to ear, giddy with excitement she waltzed over to her agent.
“Darling!” The older woman began. “I know this commercial will do some pretty great things for you. It’s a retro make-up brand titled Monroe. By the look on your face I think I know that you know who you’ll be poising as in this ad” She took a pause to inhale. “Your makeup and hair artist are in the dressing room on the left, the third door down. Your costume will be there too, we’ll start shooting soon after you’re ready. Your lines are simple, there’s no script, just some cue cards, so I’m sure this will be easy.”
Harriet nodded. Easy was good. She stepped into the dressing room to be greeted by hair curlers and make-up brushes. Soon after her make-up was completed she was left in the room alone. The dress was like no other, Marilyn Monroe’s signature white dress. It was no hassle to slide it on. She put on the matching white heels and began to step out of the room when something caught her eye. She could have sworn there was a man sitting in the chair. Shrugging it off, she walked out to the set. No one was around.
She began to feel odd. You know the feeling you get when something bad is about to happen? Yeah, that’s how she felt. She could hear her cell phone ring from the dressing room, but didn’t bother to go look. She was technically working, although no one was around she had to focus on her job.
“Hello?”her rich voice called out. “Hello?”
Taking a few steps to the other side of the room, her call we answered.
“Hello.” A Man called out. Harriet turned around to be greeted by a face she shouldn’t be seeing. The feeling like lighting hit her had run its course through her body. Her left arm went numb, she clenched her heart, and collapsed to the ground. He body began to shiver and she screamed. It didn’t help, no one was around. When the violent shakes finished and sight began to flood with bright light, she looked over to the man.
She inhaled deeply, her lungs hurt as she did this. Her breath caught as she saw him standing there, sun dancing in his eyes. John Less was not dead and was not rotting in a hole somewhere, stood right in front of her. She couldn’t exhale; her eyelids began to feel heavy. John smiled and she finally gave in, and let her eyes close.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I wish that...
There were still dinosaurs, cause I'd brofist a teradactile.
:D My weekend is going to be great, I'm going to UWM friday morning to go to a convention with a friend. I'm going to meet some famous artist and voice actors, along with a guy thats coming dressed as Optimus Prime. :]
:D My weekend is going to be great, I'm going to UWM friday morning to go to a convention with a friend. I'm going to meet some famous artist and voice actors, along with a guy thats coming dressed as Optimus Prime. :]
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