My Emo Writing Prompt short story

So I felt like I needed a creative outlet tonight so I did this prompt.

This is Super EMO of me. But I was feeling like I needed to do some creative writing and I like this Prompt :) I will be blogging about my usual things this weekend.

Prompt: Take the lyrics of your favorite song and combine them to make a story. Every word must be used in either the body or the title. No extra words either.

Lonely Lullaby (Look up the lyrics if you want to understand my short story)

The ring in my ears pours in a scream as the nightmares take me. These gloomy nights wear on and on and I can’t sleep. I’ll never forget the howling wind and rain holding me the nights I turned bitter. I remember the flushed pink fairytale that sparkled above my tired eyes when I loved you. But the scream of my nightmares was fast to dissolve you. And now the lonely lullabies in my ears turn me icy blue and cold.

Remember when the rain froze when I was holding you? You were my treasured dream and I was the symphony of a silver star. Though she was my lily, my dream come true, she can’t hold me when the nightmares take me. Though she was my Princess, my someone to hold, she can’t dream me in before the dawn. Though she was my love, she can’t sooth me these nights.

I remember these nights when I dampen the eyes I love. I'd rather forget, but I can't. I’d rather scream at you the nights you hold me in my darkest dream. I’d rather take my bitter lullabies and dissolve you when I blink. But I can’t. Because I can’t forget you. I’ll never forget you.

I loved you. I love you.

Forget when I scream, when I’d rather be bitter. Forget when I’m holding fast to the gloomy nights and howling in the wind. Forget my overcast, icy blue world. Forget when I dampen our tired lids.

Remember when I was holding you in the rain. Remember when I sang you fast asleep. Remember when you flushed pink and I froze dizzy in love. Remember me because I loved you. Remember me because I love you. Take me, Annmarie.

Emo I know. :) But that's my favorite song at the moment.

The Key to Love

Thousands of people gathered around the girl standing in the midst of Times Square. With eager faces, they searched her eyes and counted her every breath, waiting for her to speak.

“I’ve found the key to love,” she has said during an interview on Good Morning America last week. She would not disclose this knowledge to the millions of viewers glued to their television sets as she spoke softly into hush of the crowds. “If you want to know,” she had said, “meet me at Times Square on September 13^th at 7 o’clock. I will release the key at that time.”

For the next week following the interview, people booked flights and hotel rooms, they drove distances and crossed oceans. No one, not even the greatest of scientist, had been able to decipher the key. To think that this small girl could know what has baffled others years and years. All had failed to find it until this day. This day would change everything.

September 13^th had finally arrived. The girl stood in the midst of the masses of hungry eyes, black with anticipation. Her palms sweated, her knees shook from under her. She felt the sun beating down on the part of our hair, tanning her scalp and pealing her skin. She had been standing there all day, anxious to tell the world what it was that she had discovered. The clock struck 7 and she brought the microphone to her lips. A whisper that would change the world.

“I’ve found the key to love,” she said, sliding her fingers into the pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a photograph. It was small, delicate and held the most powerful image the world would ever see. She held it up to the sky and every eye on Earth went moist with tears. Some in the crowd cried out and some cheered. Everyone felt relief, joy and peace. At this moment, everything made sense. The tiny photograph that brought the world to its’ knees. . . was a photograph of you.

Happy Birthday Mom! I love you!

Goodbye my Love, Farewell.

The books laid flatly in awkward angles amongst the fingerprinted shelves. Cd's lay strewn across the countertops, packaging hidden between the cases. The walls began to shed their skin as ten years of wooden arms were ripped from their proper placement. The area was a disaster zone and a few brave men and woman were all that was left to tell the tale.

It's a very sad occurrence to lose a bookstore. Especially one that has made such a powerful impact on the community. Patrons from all over would come to peruse the shelves for new releases and settle in the coffee shop with old classics. The smells of pages being turned and drinks being served gave the room a glow much like a home away from home. Everyone was always welcome through its doors. No matter who you were or who you wished you were, you were always welcome here.

The sounds of laughter filled the stock room as pallet after pallet of books came pouring through the gate. Opening each box was like opening Christmas morning, finding new stock to share with favorite customers and friends. Employees would gather in its doors and continue to enjoy each others company long after they had left their shift for the day. Not one person didn't have the other in their phone or connected to them online. Everyone loved each other. If their own families were not accepting or they needed someone in the worst of times, they knew that they would always have a family to go to here.

Now as the countdown began to its final day, the family would have to face the most difficult challenge of their lives. They would be forced to watch their beloved store be mangled, beaten, and tossed aside like a wave in the sea. Together they would endure tongue lashings that made lips curl and pick up the masses of litter left by the vultures who came to pick on the dead body's remains. They would cry many tears and serve as a shoulder too many to cry on.

No one would quite understand how these people felt. In fact, they only had each other in which to relate such a travesty. But to each other they would always remain faithful. To the feel of a hardback book, turning pages with your fingertips and sealing spots with a paper mark, they would remain faithful. To the smiles they shared, the joy of working in such a magical place, and the people they have encountered along the way that shaped their lives, they would remain faithful.

I will miss everything about you.

I will miss the little chime the time card machine made every time I clocked in and even more so when I clocked out for lunch.

I will miss the phones ringing off the hook and customers wanting 20 copies of Heaven is For Real.

I will miss the way the register pops open when a customer actually pays with cash.

I will miss the multiple Borders rewards cards and the really old ones that no longer scan.

I will miss listening to whatever we felt like on the overhead, even if not everyone loves Glee.

I will miss helping customers realize they need to read Harry Potter and then being there with them as they journey through each book.

I will miss running back to the stock room every time I hear the doorbell ring.

I will miss the rotating microwave and the comfy yellow couch I laid on when I was sick, tired or had a dislocated hip.

I will miss my locker right under someone else's locker which was never ever locked.

I will miss my work family. My work mom, my amazing friends, and listening to random people being serenaded by someone tall with shaggy hair.

And I will miss you Independent Reader...Oh how I loved you so. The way your shelves incased me. Like my own little world full of every book I'd ever read. I lined your walls with my favorite things and lured people into your pages so that they too can cry at the end of Where the Red Fern Grows. I babied you, kept you clean and raised you like a child. When they took you from me, I lost a part of my heart.

I love you all so much. I wrote this because I needed to let it all out. And I knew no one would understand but you.

When The Old Man Sees The Sun

The old man sitting on my usual park bench hunched his shoulders downward and lifted his wrinkled eyelids toward the sky. Children laughed and chased each other along the pathway. Joggers bounced weightlessly to the rhythm of the wind swaying through the trees. A vendor under the oak tree let out a bellowing cry as he tuned into the game and prayed effortlessly for God to strike the opposing team dead. Everything was as it should be, except that old man.

Everyday for the past year and a half I've come to this park bench at precisely 4 o'clock to read books by long dead poets and drink terrible coffee from the Whistle Stop. I usually sprawl out my belongings and sit in the middle, as to ward off stragglers searching for a spot to rest their weary legs. But today there he sat.

I walked over to him with a cross look on my face, folding my arms and not attempting to hide my annoyance. He did not look at me, nor did he acknowledge my presence in anyway. He just sat their, saggy eyelids closed tightly, staring at the sky.

I decided to not let this slight distraction completely destroy my daily routine. I sat down next to him on the far left side of the bench and opened my latest copy of Hemingway.

"Isn't it lovely?" said a voice sounding like old age and slow tides. I looked over at the man who sat, eyes closed, face still tilted toward the sky.

"Is what lovely?" I asked, trying my best to not sound rude, but I'm sure it came out as anything but.

"The sun of course," he stated mater-o-factly and carefully lifted his hand towards the sky reaching as far as his arm would allow. At this point I knew this man was more than likely delusional. Old age must have battered his mind making me feel a tad more sympathetic. I decided to give him a few moments attention.

"Everyone knows there is no such thing as the 'sun'," I replied, gently touching his forearm and bringing his hand back down to his hip.

"Young man, can you not feel its warmth?" he asked, starting to truly worry me. I contemplated making a run for it.

"I do feel warm but there is no such thing as the sun. People made up that lie a long time ago, sir," I said, trying to break the news to him gently as I too stared up into the blank white sky.

"My son, do you see its light?" he asked. Looking around I saw light, but that was because it was no longer night. But I began to realize I didn't know where the light came from. Nor did I know why I could feel warmth prickle against the hairs on my skin, sending heat through my blood.

"I do see the light that comes with the day, but sir there is no such thing as a sun," I replied feeling awful for crushing this mans hopes. . . if that is what he was searching for. . .

"My boy, you feel its warmth and you see its light. Its right there in front of you, blazing in the sky. It tans your skin in summer and gives you nutrients you need. But yet you tell me it does not exist."

The old man grunted deep in his chest and slowly began to push himself up off of the park bench. He grabbed a cane, I had not seen previously, and began to stalk away with shuffling feet. Poor old man. Living in a world where he believes in imaginary suns and who knows what else. . . He doesn't know what he's talking about. . . Right?

I stared intently into my palms as they glistened in the light of, what? I looked toward the sky and closed my eyes. I began to focus on the light I could see pouring through my tightly shut eyelids and the warmth that kissed my face and brought life to my skin and bones. Maybe what I've always written off as crazy wasn't so crazy after all. Maybe it all makes sense.

I opened my eyes and for the first time. . . I saw the sun.

I looked down at the cement covering my feet...

I looked down at the cement covering my feet and crawling it's way up my calves. My eyes followed the rocky basin across the ocean that howled loudly against the sound of a thousand seagulls. I could see it in the distance. As it had always been. The island of my dreams just above the horizon, fuzzy edges rippling across the skyline. I lifted my knee to find that my foot was unable to follow. Trapped, I contemplated how on Earth I had gotten myself into this situation, and more importantly, what if everyone else was right...

The cement dug deeply into the cracks of my dry skin and itched along it's broken edges touching my bare legs. I lifted my eyes to the sandy shore that was only feet away from my cement prison. There, bobbing slightly in the harbor, was a red paddle boat. Now I knew what I must do. The only way to get to the island of my dreams would be to rid myself of the cement and paddle out to sea. But cement does not melt in the intense sun light or break off in the frozen nights. I would need help. I began to scream.

Screaming for help, to only be echoed by silence, is a very depressing predicament. The buildings and houses several feet behind me were buzzing with people, but no one could hear me or acknowledged my existence. Maybe it's because people who venture out into the sand are considered crazy. Maybe I was being shunned. I was told this would happen... but I had also seen people make it across the sands that stick as cement, brave the tossing waves in the paddle boats, and arrive at the island of their dreams. I had seen it and I knew in my heart I could and would make it.

I sat in the sand and buried my face in my legs. The tears and sobs came quickly and I choked back the insistent cries of agony boiling in the back of my throat. I began to do what I knew would get me through. Something everyone else I had left on the mainland had told me was a myth. I believed.

And I believed. The harder I fought, the harder I believed. I believed in a life outside of the world I lived in. I believed in myself and my ability to make it to the island of my dreams. And I believed that even though I would have to fight my way there, I would find paradise waiting for me. As I changed my heart and my mind, the sand began to slowly crumble off of my toes and fall like silk. I picked myself up and raced for the paddle boat, kicking sand about as I finally dug my fingers into it's wooden body. The paint chips flaked off into the underbellies of my nails as I pushed the boat into the water. I threw myself into the hollow shell and onto the plank that served as a seat. Grabbing the much too large oars, I began pushing and pulling my way to paradise.

I had made it this far, realizing that all I needed to do was believe that the island of my dreams was real and worth fighting to get too. And I needed to believe that even though the world turned away from me, my belief in myself and the power of God to get me there melted away my circumstances and freed me. The journey across the ocean will be choppy and smooth, dangerous and relaxing...but no matter what the storms of this life...pushing and pulling our way to God is worth it.

Never Drink Dr.Pepper Before Bed...

11:11 make a wish...I wish that my taste buds would start to like fish. Why? Because fish is supposedly really good for you and I HATE IT.

I have a lot on my mind tonight and I can't sleep so we are in for quite an adventure together. I have been assigned with the task of bringing 6 objects to my sculpture class tomorrow and one of those objects I must make an unbreakable vow with. For you see, the one selected I will be expanding into a 3-4 foot tall paper mache project. So far I have..

-A Hippo

-A Giraffe

-A T-Rex

-A Teddy Bear

-A Luck Joy Cat

-A mini fabric ninja

-An assortment of rubber sea creatures (shark, fish, and dolphin)

-A Stuffed Totoro

As you can see I have quite a few things to chose from but I am unhappy with all of them. I would choose my Totoro hands down but his fluffy exterior would be rather difficult to shape. I want to create something that no other student has done before as well. Decisions, Decisions.

I don't know why I'm telling you this....

Tonight at youth group we talked about identifying lies that we are bombarded with everyday and seeking God who is truth and the only truth. I created a dragon fetus out of clay and put him in a jar filled with diluted Dr.Pepper for an illustration to use tonight during my lesson and I unfortunately left him at home :( I was so upset because I wanted to take a poll to see how many of the teens fell for my trick. Oh well, maybe next time.

Is it weird that I made a Dragon fetus and put it in a jar for the sake of teaching God's word? It probably is but whatever.

We talked about Orson Wells 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast that sent millions of people into a panic. I played a clip from the broadcast in which wells described the Martians getting out of their spaceship and melting people with heat rays. If so many people were gullible enough to believe in something as outlandish as this, how many more people are gullible enough to believe in the everyday lies Satan tells us? He tells us that we aren't good enough or that we only have limited choices (all of them being wrong) and so on. Taking the blinders off and seeking truth is the first step towards opening our eyes and breaking free from his chains. Be mindful of what you hear and see. Seek truth first.

• John 14:6- I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man comes to the Father but through me.

I hope you all have a good week seeing as this is the first week of school. Whether you're in high school, junior high, or college, it doesn't matter, we face lies everyday. God is the way the truth and the life. When all others seem to be lying, we can find comfort in knowing that God is truth no matter what.

Take the Weather with You...

When I was younger all I wanted to do was live in California with my awesome Aunt on the coast of San Diego. I'll never forget the first time I realized that I need to be there.

We were walking along the beach dodging bike riders and dancing with children weaving in and out of the swing sets. The sun was beating down but it wasn't hot...it was warm and bright like a perfect scene from a movie. My Uncle put me on his surf board and I tried...and failed at surfing for the first time. I didn't care when the under-toe caught me and scrapped by bare legs with the grainy sand below the surface. I was in my paradise.

Everyone was happy and time seemed to stop out there. People took long breaks at work and got off early to catch the last bit of surf before the tide slowed and the evening brought out the romantic night walkers and glow of bonfires.

I decided that I wouldn't be happy unless I was chasing the sun. I had my life planned out from that point on. Move somewhere sunny for college and stay there. At 15 I started listening to Jimmy Buffett and Bob Marley to give me a mind escape to the ocean and I became a water baby with swim team and lake days. I changed my entire life to bring the sunshine with me everywhere I go and I still carry it around with me to this day.

Obviously I didn't move to California, Florida, or Jamaica, and those of you who know me very well know that I still sparkle with a California beam even though I live in Missouri. When you long for something so much, you begin to make up for not having it with your lifestyle. Then before you know it, you've taken the weather with you.

How many times do we leave our perfect situation and become miserable with our circumstance instead of harnessing what we can to keep the sunshine in our lives? Just because I don't live in Hermosa Beach, doesn't mean I have to live a miserable life of wishing I was there! Why can't I bring a little Hermosa to my life in Kansas City and to the people around me? I love my life in KC and I love my family and friends. I wouldn't want to leave them because they are part of my all encompassing sunshine as well. So what do you do?

I guess what this rambling is about is taking the weather, taking the moment, taking the purpose with you no matter where you end up. If you love something enough, make it a part of you.

I hope whatever your sunshine is, you take it with you :)