A Beginning is Something Else’s Ending (StoryADay post)

English: Laurie at her high school graduation

English: Laurie at her high school graduation (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It was now all over.

Mara Llewellyn, Stuart Greer, and Irene Haughton were now officially graduates from Harrison Creek High School, the school that they were all forced to attend due to the “unforgivable sin” of befriending the hated Tanya Shinok many years ago. To be honest, the kids don’t have much of a choice in that matter.

“I can’t believe that this is all over,” said Mara.

“I’m not,” said Stuart with a strange look on his face. “It’s just like that story is repeating itself.”

“Like when we got that letter from the Stranger?” said Pearl Tanner, who at age 14 was the youngest high school graduate. They all stared at her. “At least Mrs. Schindler won’t be cyber-stalking us from behind bars.”

“Still can’t believe that Tara’s mom was the Stranger,” said Irene.

“Yeah, who knew?” said Mara. “Anyway, I’m feeling kind of depressed.”

“Why?” said Irene.

“It’s our last day here,” said Mara with a look of concern on her face. “After this, there is no more. Our time as high schoolers is over, as is our lives as teenagers. Soon, it’s off to college with us. Irene, you’re doing fashion design in San Diego, Stuart, you’re heading to D.C., and I’m going into game design at Texas A&M. This is it; it’s time for us to end our youth and prepare to enter the harsh and complicated, for better or worse.”

“I know,” said Stuart, with tears on his face. “It’s so hard to say goodbye to everything that we knew. We’re all going our separate ways and I don’t know if we’re ever going to see each other again.”

“We still have Facebook,” said Pearl.

“But for how long,” said Irene. “We could be making new friends within a month and forget the friends that we had in high school. It’s a thing that I fear the most.”

Shara Shinnok, overhearing the conversation, came to them, saying, “Don’t think of this as the end; instead, think of this as a new beginning, a time for new discoveries and new experiences. We have the future before us, but we can’t have that future if we keep holding onto the past. Like, remember when you had to let do of Tanya in order to move on with your lives and enjoy your high years. But now that those years are coming to a close, we need to let go of our youth and go on with our lives. And besides, you’ll never know when you’re going to see each other again. I most certainly am wondering if I’ll see you guys again; after all, my other friends and I are jetting off to Fresno next week.”

she said to them, “Well I had fun hanging out with you guys, but it’s time for me to head back to California and my other friends . I’ll see you on the flip side .”

With that, she bounded out the room.

Mara, Stuart, Irene, and Pearl stood together for the final time, knowing that even though all things (such as their high school years) came to an end, they knew that for better or worse, they would see a brand-new beginning.

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Two Hundred And Fifteen Hours (StoryADay post)

English: A boy with autism.

English: A boy with autism. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It just occurred to me that I have exactly 215 hours before I’m forced to leave everything that I know behind and go to a place where nobody knows me.

Just me. No one else is going with me.

I don’t know why my parents are so keen on sending me away to some relatives that I don’t know exist and to live in a town that I can’t find on a map. How did that ever happen?

I tell you now, this story won’t erase the fact that I have exactly nine days before I leave my hometown for good.

After some lame report by a teacher claiming that “Adrienne plays alone; she has no friends“, my mother was so upset with me that she just refused to look in my direction. My father didn’t say much to me, but I could tell that he was ashamed of me. To him, having a child who “plays alone and has no friends” is nothing short of a disgrace. Someone like me, who refuses to play with others and prefers her own company, is undeserving of a family such as the Porters.

That’s why I’m leaving.

Anyway, all I could do is count down the hours that I have left. 215.

Well, it was nice being at home.

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Let’s Start a Riot (StoryADay blog post)

My next story in the Harry Potter parody: a hi...

My next story in the Harry Potter parody: a high school musical! (Photo credit: claireviolet82)

It all began over a book.

It wasn’t the Twilight books, thankfully, as arguments over the book tended to descend into blatant bullying. (A few weeks ago, the mayor’s wife ordered all anti-Twilight groups to cease and desist and all pro-Twilight groups to put away the books and to stop obsessing over Twilight. Both groups reluctantly complied with her demands.)

But instead of doing that, she should have pulled the plug on the Harry Potter obsession; so much trouble could have been prevented had she gotten wind of the fights that were happening between those who loved Harry Potter and those who hated him.

Garrett, Troy, and I were just sitting in the library one day, not caring about the fights that were going on. We all agreed that the harry potter books are utter tripe and the books aren’t the greatest things to happen in the world of literature.

Try telling that to the scores of people that we knew and they would look at us funny.

Anyway, the Hary Potter fans and the Harry Potter Haters were arguing fiercely, mainly over a fanfiction that suggested that some autistic kid must have dreamed up the entire series. I bet that the theory itself sounded like a cop-out, but then again, it had to have a grain of sense to it. After all, no one could actually write a series of books that were rotten.

I heard a Harry Potter fan saying, “That is the dumbest thing I ever heard. Harry Potter isn’t fake!”

“It is if if the story’s inconsistency just keeps getting worse,” said a kid on the Harry Potter haters side.

“How can SerenityStar write that crap?” said a fan.

“It was already bad enough when she wrote that story about Harry Potter being kidnapped and murdered,” said another fan.

“It’s more realistic than the crap that any of you fantards call yourself scribbling,” said a hater.

That was it.

A few Harry Potter fans hurled themselves at the haters, who successfully sidestepped them, sending them sprawling to the floor. They quickly threw books (not Harry Potter) at the fans. Within a few seconds, what once was a bitter argument between the Harry Potter fans and haters had turned into a riot.

My friends and I all sat in our seats and watched as the riot unfolded. The entire Harry Potter display was destroyed and several other bookshelves were damaged. I could hardly believe what I was seeing; a group of teenagers and adults fighting over a silly children’s book. Part of me wanted to put an end to the riot, yet the logical thing to do was to run away from the place.

Which was what we did.

After it was all over, the news reported on the damages that were done to the bookstore. As I have said before, the Harry Potter display was destroyed and several other bookshelves were damaged. Also, scores of Harry Potter fans were arrested for disturbing the peace while the Harry Potter haters were let off with a warning.

Isn’t this nice? A group of devoted fans are arrested while those who oppose are let go with a warning? I never thought that I would see that happening. To me, this is progress. I just hope that those Harry Potter fans learn to shut up, for fan fiction is the new way that people who hate the series can deal with it without outrightly banning it.

Plus, Im not too fond of Harry Potter or fan fiction to begin with.

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Why Do Caged Birds Sing? (StoryADay post)

Birds

Birds (Photo credit: Emyan)

Why do caged birds sing
Is it because they have a song
Is it because of their distress
Is it because of the world’s cruelty

The world is cruel to caged birds
They hide the cages away
The caged birds sing in fear
But no one is around to hear them

But there must be someone out there
Who’s willing to hear the caged birds sing
But instead of hearing the caged birds sing
Let’s break the cages and set the birds free

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Lies, Lies, Lies! (StoryADay post)

ELLA

ELLA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There comes a time when we have to learn the differences between a half-truth and a whole lie.

Such as, when I had to hear yet another story about Ella and her crazy adventures in Stupidland when all she really does is just sit in the coat closet of her house all day.

To be honest, I’m getting really sick and tired of her lies.

So one day in English class, as the other students were listening to yet another story from Ella, I yelled out, “Aren’t you guys tired of listening to her crap?”

At once, everyone turned around and stared at me. They all stared at me, with blank looks on their faces, wondering why I would say something like that. What was I thinking to be saying such stupid crap like that, they all wondered. Even the teacher stared at me, which was an oddity in itself.

I know I should shut up, but my mouth keeps talking, “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting really sick and tired of Ella making up stories when all she really does is just sit in her coat closet yapping all day. I know that most of us aren’t even supposed to be playing in the coat closet, so why is it OK for her to make up silly stories and not us?”

“That’s enough, Albert,” said the teacher, with an exasperated look on his face. “That wasn’t very nice of you to interrupt Ella while she is speaking. Why are you doing that?”

I said, “I’m tired of hearing her lies. I have been to her house many times looking for the kingdom of Oslensha and all I see is a coat closet. Well, let me tell you now, Ella Phillips is nothing more than a dirty rotten liar who is just filling your head with lies while she sits in the closet talking to imaginary friends!”

The room is so silent that it’s scary. Everyone is staring at me; even Ella was staring at me. I knew that I was cursed with the ability to know when someone is lying to me; my own parents didn’t do Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy with me, as I knew that they would lie to me. I also refused to tell a lie for several different reasons.

But what can you do if you tell the truth, knowing that the truth might offend the person who might need to hear the truth? As my grandmother once said, “Lies hurt for a second, but the truth can hurt forever.”

And according to me, the truth about Ella is what everyone needed to hear. I then said, “Shouldn’t you just be avoiding her? She acts like a five year old, for god’s sake! Do you really want a 16-year-old who acts like a preschooler as your friend or would you rather have a mature person who puts away things like that and grows up?”

The teacher said, “I think you have just given me an idea for tonight’s homework assignment.” Everyone groaned as they glared at me. The teacher continued, “I want you all to write an essay on whether or not you would want to have a friend who acts childish or mature. Furthermore, I expect you to have the assignment handed in tomorrow.”

Well, that was that.

That night, I wrote a long essay detailing my history with Ella and why I had stopped being her friend. I knew she was trouble and not worth associating with the minute she didn’t “let go” of her imaginary friends on her 7th birthday.

Then, things went downhill for us.

I quit speaking to her and by the time we entered middle school, we were no longer friends. Not only that, I sought to punish Ella by outing her as a person who hates other children and plays with imaginary friends to every class that we have together.

But that wasn’t all.

The next day, almost everyone handed in the homework, all which detailed how sick and tired of Ella’s stories they were, but none of them had the heart to tell her to stop. Ella, now realizing that no one actually cared about her stories at all, threw the granddaddy of all temper tantrums and saying that we were all stupid for calling her a prissy little brat. She especially laid into me for turning everyone against her. All I could do was watch as she stormed from the room and the entire school.

Well, I am not fond of lies and the lying liars who tell lies. I do not advocate buying into anyone’s lies. I could only hope that Ella really wakes up and realizes that she needs help, not imaginary friends.

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Ode to Our Armed Forces (StoryADay post)

Memorial Day: 'We Resolve That These Dead Shal...

Memorial Day: ‘We Resolve That These Dead Shall Not Have Died In Vain’ — Naperville (IL) Riverwalk (Photo credit: Ron Cogswell)

They gave up their lives to fight for our country
They were drafted and they volunteered
They knew that the price of freedom is high

They had to fight for our freedom
For they knew that this was right
The enemies of freedom are many
But they will not prevail

The cost of freedom is high
And we must be willing to defend it at all costs

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Untwisting His Mind (StoryADay post)

I want to get to the source of my issues.

I don’t want to be defined by my homosexuality; that was not how I was raised. But I wonder why so many people want to embrace their homosexuality, like that’s a great thing since cartoons. I am gay, but I will not embrace my gayness.

I will not give into it.

The truth is that this world is twisted to the point that everything that was once good is now bad, and everything that is bad is now good. This makes me sick to the point of hatred.

This ends now.

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