Your eyes danced and read to me encyclopedias of emotions as you engulfed me in your elegies. Do not tell me you have nothing to say because, my dear, your eyes tell me more than your lips ever will.

A Moment of Regression

I vaguely remember little me talking in front of a bathroom mirror, giggling. I was contemplating the idea of being a "grown up", saying, "when I get older, like eighteen or nineteen I'm gonna be this tall and I'm going to have this and that, and I'm going to be super different and I'm going to have this problem and that problem, but they're cool problems like having to stay up late and do homework and mamma can't help me since I'm a big girl now. I'm going to have big college books that are so heavy and so thick but I'm gonna study them all day long and I'm going to be super smart! Yeah, and I'm going to have glasses, but they won't make me look nerdy, just cool and grown up. I'm going to be so neat and awesome when I get my own room. My stuff will be organized and cool... I can't wait to grow up!"

Yes, it was filled with random thoughts that flitted from one topic to another, splurging ideas that just popped into my head of some amazing future. Guess what friends? I'm turning eighteen in thirty days and the thought hit me like a bullet. I'm not exactly that girl I imagined myself being, but I'm not that disappointed either. I'm not as organized as I had hoped to be, but I definitely am as ambitious, I do have those really big heavy textbooks( though I don't read them), and yeah I'm staying up late doing homework (but only because I have a huge procrastination problem). Though what surprised me was for a minute there, I regressed back to my little self and I felt like that young person I used to be was thrust into my body now, and she looked around in awe at what she'd become. It's not her cookie cutter, idealistic view of what she wanted to be, but I think she's fairly satisfied. Her new technology, a bookshelf full of thick chapter books that are a sheer sign of comfort for her...her desk. Sense of style. Her witty personality. It's all her.

It's all me. And I can't believe it. Maybe I'm in denial that I'm turning 18, maybe I'm regressing to my childhood before it's officially over. Maybe my childhood is reminding me that getting older is actually a good thing. Whatever the case may be, it was nice to be greeted by little me so she could assure me that I'm on the right track.

The Fate of Scottie the Cricket

Here's a story for you all, some events of this story are real, but I just tweaked them a bit and gave it a little more meaning. It's cruel, harsh, and a little creepy. Enjoy! Leave a comment below and let me know what you thought of this; don't hold back!

Meanwhile, as Sebastian snuggled happily in his tank as he awaited his next meal, a cricket named Scottie was busy at work with the other crickets in the hold. He was Master Scott, cricket ninja. He taught the crickets survival skills to avoid being eaten by the reptiles when time comes. Basic skills like running away, staying alert, power by numbers, and the best of all, hiding out until sunset, when the crickets can take over the tank and take revenge on the sleeping reptile. It was a hard life, but Scottie hoped that his hard lessons paid off. He heard of a few survival stories, like a mass escape tactic, where most of the crickets got away with only a few fatalities.

Scottie is one of the older crickets, and one of the wisest too. He has been avoiding The Hand ever since he was young, and lo' and behold, now he is the oldest cricket. The thing about Scottie was that he was fascinated with fruit flies. A creature that was smaller than himself! Now that was bizarre.

Anyways, later on in the day, as he was idling around on an egg carton, he saw one. It was the tiniest thing he'd ever seen! So, beautiful! He was so amazed at this sight he didn't notice The Hand coming down. It grabbed the egg carton, and before he could jump off, he was dumped into a clear bag. "No!" He screamed, "not now!" His hands slipped down the clear plastic bag. The cries of the other trapped crickets drowned his own voice. "Not now."

The next ten minutes were a chaotic frenzy. His fellow crickets ran around banging on the walls and screaming for help. They were walking over each other, trying to find a way out. They even tried biting into the walls but to no avail. Scottie remained calm, hoping a miracle would happen. The other crickets asked him what to do, but Scottie couldn't think of anything. Everything he'd taught the crickets before couldn't be done in this situation.

Suddenly they were picked up again and the bag was opened. Some of his friends tried to jump out of the bag, but it was too high up. White stuff was sprinkled over them and the bag was shaken. He tossed and turned and did somersaults all over the bag, stunning him momentarily. Still, he didn't know what was going on, until he saw the Reaper. A grim, ashen looking cricket wearing a dark cloak, holding a curved stick. He was standing upright, looking straight at him. He winked and vanished, just like that. He knew the Reaper had marked him, and that death was inevitable. They were then dumped out of the bag and Scottie was momentarily stunned.

The next thing he knew, he was staring into the face of a bearded dragon. Scottie hopped incredibly fast and hid somewhere, Sebastian right on his tail. It seemed that the lizard lost sight of him, and went to pursue the other thirty crickets that were hopping around. Soon though, he was the only one left, but Sebastian hadn't seen him yet. Scottie was famished, so he found some lettuce in the tank and was nibbling on it as silently as he could, but Sebastian's ears had perked up. The lizard looked straight at him, and walked over to the source of the noise. Scottie froze, and moved so slowly he didn't appear to be moving. Sebastian did the same, knowing that any sudden movements would involve the cricket hopping away so fast he couldn't catch it. So they continued to move in slow, steady movements, one pursuing, the other fleeing, until Scottie noticed the oddest thing; a beautiful fruit fly that slowly drifted around the tank. He turned around to get a better view of it, then Sebastian attacked. Swallowing Scottie whole.

So was the end of Scottie the Cricket.

The fly then drifted around and landed on the Reaper's stick. "Fate is an inevitable thing." The Reaper said as he chuckled, tapped his stick against the ground twice, and then they both faded and vanished without a trace.

The End.

New Page!

Remember the post about the spider and my mind-troll? If you don't, you can see it right here. Well I said that you'd find out why I'm blogging about spiders, and why on earth I would browse through hundreds of pictures of spiders when I clearly am terrified of them.

Now you can! Check out "Shyness Thrown Out of a Canoe", a story about my journey down a narrow river in a canoe with one of my friends, and how that changed me a bit. Don't worry it's more story than moral and I think you may find it entertaining. The font gets smaller towards the middle and I couldn't change it for the life of me. I apologize for that in advance and I hope you enjoy it!

Anguish

This shall be my first random bit of story-like writing of just something that comes to my mind:

Let's say that this is the setting of the story. A nice, southern, Gothic style house, no big deal. It's a dark and rainy night. A girl and her father are sound asleep in their bedrooms. All is well...until—

"The angst! The horror!" He screeched as he tumbled out of the room. 

"What on earth is going on?" His daughter shouted as she made her way to him. 

"The... I see... They're after me. Help!" His eyes were deep in his sockets and he looked as if he had many sleepless nights.

A worried look passed over the daughter. "What, what's after you, father?" she calmly asked. He pointed towards the room, his hand shaking rapidly. The daughter peered inside the room and turned on the lights, but nothing was there. Not a sound came from the room, and nothing was to be found. "Father, you were hallucinating. I think you've gone mad!" She backed away from him slowly. "I'm going to call someone. You need help." As she hurried over to the phone and picked it up, she heard a noise behind her. Then the sound straggled to her left, her right, behind her, beneath her. She let out a blood-curdling scream...to find a hound of puppies licking her feet and wagging their tails. 

"Father, what is the meaning of this?"

His laugh thundered whole-heartedly as he approached her. "Happy Birthday, sweetie."  He said as he swept her up in a hug. 

What would you do if someone did this to you? Tell me what you think!