Heartbreak

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 32.9 Topic: “Fast Cars, Big Guns, Hot Nights!”

Bonuses:

Hard (2 pts): Use a quote from Malcolm Gladwell

Heartbreak

Estelle believed that if you work hard enough and assert yourself, and use your mind and imagination, you can shape the world to your desires.  But that was also a time when she was a little girl, and as we all know as children, we believe anything can possibly happen.

Estelle always imagined her life to be going places, and she really was going places.  She got married young.  She was madly in love with him.  But as the years passed, their love turned from a romantic love, to a platonic love.

Then one day, Estelle felt a pair of eyes on her.  She looked up to notice someone staring at her.  She wasn't sure what to make of it as she hadn't had a feeling like that in years since she married her husband.

For just a moment, Estelle had that fast cars, big guns, and hot nights kind of feeling.  But she knew it was just her imagination running wild.

For one thing, she was still married, and that meant a lot to her--even if their relationship was forever platonic.  For another, that guy never gave her the time of day, and if he was interested in her, he never acted like it.

Feeling like she had been abandoned in a desert, she had come to grips with her own reality. She would never be loved that kind of way ever.  It was alright for her.  She thought about it some bit and forced herself to look on the bright side.  At least she got to live to be 30 before she became washed up and unloved.

The truth was she never accepted this.  She cried every night to sleep wondering why God would be so cruel to her.  Eventually she died of a heartbreak, and so, this is how it goes.

DJ






















http://thethinkywriter.blogspot.com/2016/09/329.html

~~

Random Pics and Quote 1

DJ

I like the pictures, so I'll keep this blog. As for the rest of this, it shall be deleted. I won't be defeated because someone thinks my writing is crap. It's just one person...compared to a few others who actually read my work.  I worked really hard in creating that story. I can't let myself get shaken down by it.  I have to stop being so sensitive.  But that's how I am.  I write because I'm sensitive.  Life bothers me. It's hard. I hate being lonely all the time.  It's just something I've grown used to!  Some day I'll pick this back up and replace it with an actual story (Maybe), but today is not the day.

DJ





http://thethinkywriter.blogspot.com/2016/09/319.html

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In The Dark

A drabble, by Diana Jillian



The only things she sees in the dark of night are the pale people, and a statue of the angel.
The pale people all stop to talk to her, and she talks to them. They all thought she babbled before, but now they understand.

They're here for a reason, though they can't recall why. They know where they reside; and it's very far away, so they stay with her.

On a road to nowhere, she tries to recall her life. She remembers, and is in shock. Her mind is now present.

For she's the immortal, Lila; queen of the underworld!

9/11/16

The List: Three

For those interested in the previous chapters, click on the link below:

THE LIST: CHAPTER INDEX

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Running to feel fine
Time that's racing blows my mind
A race for it all


THREE

"Oh, child," Nora says to me when I arrive back inside from my jog.  "Y'all had me worried about you."

"I'm sorry, Nora," I say.  "My hat flew off, and some boy caught my hat and started talking to me."

"Oh, a boy!  Girl, you should add that to your list."

I just love her thick, New Orleans accent.  I wish I had an accent like that, but I don't.  It's just a regular kind of speak.  There are some parts of Florida that don't have an actual accent due to people who move down here from all parts of the world and such.

I turn and walk backwards so I can see Nora's face better.  I know she wants me to be happy, but I have better plans.

"You know having a boyfriend is not on my list, nor will it ever be," I reply.  I turn back around and walk in my room where my school clothes are laid out.  Nora has a white button-down shirt and a pleated dark blue skirt waiting for me on the bed.

"You do know this is not a traditional private school I'm going to, right?"  I call out to her.

At the prestigious Calusa Fields High School, the dressing option is pretty much open.  You just have to dress in a more professional manner.  Though you are allowed to wear jeans on Fridays, it's not a very strict dress code like if you were going to a Catholic school or something.  You just can't wear any flip-flops or tank tops--clothing like that are not presentable anyway, in my opinion.

"Of course I know that, child," Nora responds as she enters the room.  She walks over to the bed, and picks up the shirt, and walks it over to me.  "These colors just go with your skin tone so well.  I just want you to make a great first impression."

I give her a warm smile.  "Thank you."  I don't argue with Nora.  I trust her judgement.  She brushes my hair with her hand, and walks out of the room so I can get dressed.

I put on the clothes, but start feeling awkward at my bare legs.  I head for my dresser to find a pair of leggings to put on underneath my skirt.  I put on a blue pair of leggings to go with my skirt.  I want to make it look like it's a part of my outfit.  I then put on white ankle-length socks, and my dark blue Converse sneakers.  I am pretty sure I am casual dressed, but I don't care.  At least I'm presentable.

A few months back, when I went to enroll for my senior year, I saw how the girls dressed.  They wear high heels and matching purses.  I've always been kind of girly, but never that kind of girl.  Even though I took ballet, I still love to watch a good hockey game on TV.  I take a deep breath, and I head out of the room.

"You look so beautiful," Nora says to me.  "But why hide your nice legs? You should really add meeting a boy to your list."

Nora wants so much for me to live the normal teenage life.  There is no such thing as normal anyway.  I do know, however, I don't want to add boyfriend to my list.

I started making a list for myself when I was about twelve years old.  Most would call it a bucket list, but I don't like that term.  A bucket list makes things in life seem so FINAL.  I'd rather call it a living list as opposed to a bucket list.  I get there was a movie called the Bucket List, but it seems it's become a rather cliche term these days.

One thing on my living list is to enroll in school.  I have that checked off.  The next one is cheerleading tryouts, which will be today after school.  I don't have time for a boyfriend, which is what I finally say to Nora.

"If you say so, child," she says with a smile.

I know that look.  She has a gift for knowing things.  Sometimes I grow a little curious as to what she knows, but I also know there is a certain balance in this world and perhaps, I'm not meant to learn what it is until later on.

I give her a hug, tell her I love her, and head out the door to my first day of school.  I walk out the door where there is a car and driver waiting for me.  This is not an unusual thing for someone like me to see.

I am just grateful that one of the perks of being in a prestigious private high school, means lots of students will have their own personal drivers.  I'm not so sure about bodyguards.  I just hope Smith is better at blending in at school than he was earlier on my jog.

I sigh as I get in the back of the car.  Smith--my bodyguard--shuts my door as I get inside.  I watch as he opens the front passenger door, gets in, and puts on his seat belt.

I pretty much say nothing, but I beg of Smith to not stay so close as I would like to make at least one friend this school year.  He nods his head, though I can't tell if he will listen to my wishes as he has not done so already.

I get into the school, and I immediately feel eyes focused on me.  Of course they would be focused on me, I am the new girl after all.

"Hey, check out the new chick," I hear a guy say, but I don't even bother to look up, and I decide to keep on walking down the hallway.  I have to head to the office to officially sign in, and get my class schedule.  But I don't even get that far.  Not even two seconds that guy mentioned something about the new chick, I feel an arm cross with my arm.

I look with wide eyes to see a girl walking with me.  "Don't mind my brother and his friends," she says to me.  I wasn't planning on it, but I say nothing of it.  "They're always interested in new people.  Well, not my brother so much, but his friends are."

"Oh," is the only thing I can manage to say.  I've not had anyone my own age to really talk to in a while with the exception of my cousin.  Everyone else I basically talk with are adults.  I guess I can be a bit timid when it comes to having conversations with others.

"You're the quiet type until they get to know you, aren't you?"  The girl asks me.  It's almost as if she can read my mind or something.

I shrug.  "I guess," I say to her.

"Oh," she exclaims.  "I can see we are going to be the best of friends.  My name is Cristi.  There's no H in my name, and it ends in an I rather than a Y.  My real name is Alexis Cristine, but everyone calls me Cristi.  I think it was because that was the first name I could say properly when I was little.  Oh, but enough about me.  What's your name?"

"Kalura," I reply.  "It's a combination of Kaleb with a K, and Laura, which are the names of my parents."

"Oh, what a wonderful name," she replies.  "I can call you Kallie for short."

I have been given a nickname.  Now I can scratch that off the list.

"So," Cristi begins.  "What's your first class?"

"Um, I don't know yet," I answer candidly.  "I have to go to the office to pick up a schedule."

"Well, let me help you, if you don't mind."

I look at her gratefully.  "I would love some help," I say.  "Thank you."

We head to the office, where Cristi seems to know everyone there.  It's like she's a very friendly and popular person.  I wish I had long, wavy blonde hair like she does.  It almost seems to bounce with every turn she makes.  My hair is short, straight, and not so blonde like hers.  My hair color is considered a dirty blonde, perhaps more of a light brown kind of a color.  Right now, my hair is all one length, and it lays about down to my shoulders.

"You ready for your first class?"  She asks, breaking me out of my reverie.  I look up at her sparkling emerald eyes.

I take a deep breath.  "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Great," she smiles.  "What's your first class?"

"Um," I begin as I look down at my schedule.  "Poetry with Club."

"Oh, Mr. Club is an awesome teacher!  And it just so happens we have the same class together!  I'll walk with you."

"Alright," I say.  "Thanks."

"Maybe we can compare notes on our schedules.  I can show you what classes you need to go to after."

"I-I don't want to put you out," I stammer a bit.  "Are you sure?"

"Really," she replies.  "It's not a problem."

I express my gratitude again as we enter the classroom.  I hand Mr. Club my schedule.  He takes a look at it, and looks back at me.

"Kallie is new here," Cristi says from behind me.  "I'll be showing her around today."

Mr. Club hands me back my schedule and clears his throat.  "Please, Ms. Wise," he calls me by my last name.  "Have a seat, and welcome to poetry class."

Cristi automatically picks out a seat for me, and she sits at the desk next to me.

"Now," Mr. Club clears his throat.  He starts to recite a poem:


"He is much like a flower
"Given to rise with power
"But with war he'll cower
"Forever is the final fate
"The life of a fragile flower
"Stems from a mind of state

"Crumble and land on down
"To be stepped on in ground
"Nothing is left to be found
"But the memories from his wife
"By then she's homeward bound
"The fragility meaning of life

"And how the fires flame
"No proper place to tame
"This way we play a game
"As if this were something fun
"Insensitive to the insane
"We would prefer to run

"We fail to find the kind
"Push the button on rewind
"But our eyes we turn blind
"So upon perish we cry
"Regrets too late to fine
"Spreading wings to fly

"Regrets what should've said
"Swirling around in the head
"Lack of sleep in the bed
"Regret lies thick and strong
"Yet we still deny the dread
"Of not saying what we long

"Oh, fragile flower you'll lay
"Upon the burning lighted day
"And falling in a delicate way
"Withered into a blackish rust
"Yet no one seems to say
"Rebirth derives from the dust

"Who is truly to tell the tale
"When we turn shallow and pale
"On board the ship we set for sail
"And travel our lone merry ways
"Hearing the love's cries wail
"And remain the rest of our days"



Mr. Club pauses for dramatic effect.  This much I can tell.  He inhales and says, "Can anyone tell me what Tawny," he is pointing to a kid sitting in the front row.   "Is referring to in her poem 'The Flower'?"

He looks around, and calls upon someone raising their hand.  "Yes," he asks.

"That she's comparing flowers to humanity," the voice says.

I know I've heard that voice before, and not too long ago.  I turn and look to see it's that boy I met at the park this morning during my jog; I believe he said his name was Xander.  I start thinking about things; like how much of a coincidence it is I happen to see Xander in the same classroom as me.  Or better yet, how smart he seems to be.  He knows his poetry well, or so it seems.

"That is correct, Mr. Turner," Mr. Club says.

I quickly look at my notebook and I start to draw some doodles on the page. I brought my notebook thinking I would be taking notes or something.  Maybe in my next class.  I can't help but feel someone staring at me.  I have one of those instincts where I know if someone is staring at me or not.  I get a chilly feeling on my neck.  I look around to notice only one pair of eyes watching me.

I turn to look right at Xander staring at me.  Normally when you look at someone, they tend to look away.  This is not the situation though.  I make myself look away and go back to my scribbling.  Just as I'm trying to think of something to really draw, there are another pair of eyes on me.

I look next to me and notice it's Cristi this time staring at me.  The bell rings, and I put my notebook away in my backpack.

"Before you go," Mr. Club says.  "I want you all to turn in a piece of poetry describing your first day of your senior year.  I look forward to seeing them tomorrow."

I silently sigh on the inside.  I'm not very good at poetry.  I'm definitely not as creative as Tawny was in class with her poem.  I head out of the classroom.

"Hey wait up!"

I turn to see Cristi trying to catch up with me.  I patiently wait for her.  She starts walking close to me.  She's close enough to speak to me in a secretive manner.  I noticed my brother was staring at you!  He doesn't usually stare at girls.  I thought for sure he was into boys, but the way he was staring at you--"

"Wait," I interrupt.  "Xander is your brother?"

She gives me a big smile.  "Ah, so you met him already?"

"Briefly this morning on my jog."

"Well, he is really into you."

"Into me?" I question.  I can't imagine why!  Despite having olive-toned skin, I'm very pale.  I could possibly be passed off as a zombie or a child of the night.  If not for the foundation I wear, people would surely see the bags under my eyes and assume I have a craving for brains.

I wonder what the universe is trying to tell me.  First I meet Xander early this morning, and then at school I become friends with his sister?  I feel like I've suddenly entered into a labyrinth.  But like every labyrinth in life I've ever been through, surely I can get myself out of this one!

***

She Blinked!

Quote:

"The disembodied spirit is immortal; there is nothing of it that can grow old or die.  But the embodied spirit sees death on the horizon as soon as the day dawns."

~~Thomas Hobbes

Darling always had a love for gardens.  If she could, she would sit around in her backyard all day, admiring the scenery.  What wasn't to love about a garden?

The bees would pollinate the flowers while getting nectar for their honey; the beautiful dragonflies would roam around; the geckos would hang out, trying to catch a bug or two for their meal; and the flowers always smelled so beautiful.

This is definitely heaven, Darling thought to herself.  Either that, or I'm dreaming.  Gardens like this only appear in dreams.

With a deep inhale, she exhaled and went back into her house.

Wait a minute, she thought to herself.  She looks around and can't believe her eyes.  She goes to turn around to head back to her garden, only, it's no longer there.

She's surrounded by stone walls and stairs.

I knew this was a dream.

She descends the stairs, where she finds two statue angels standing on opposite sides at the end of the corridor.  Both of them were standing in the shallow water of the fountain.

Before Darling's eyes, a familiar face in a white robe appeared to her.

"Jonah?"  Darling asked.  "Is that you?"

He gives a small laugh.  "Well, I suppose I could be," he answers in a vague way.  "I am whoever you need me to be."

Darling shakes her head.  "I don't understand."

"It's to help you transition."

"Transition."

Jonah--or whoever he or she is--just shakes his head.  "Let me explain."

Darling interrupts him.  "Come clean," she begins.  "Who are you?"

"I think you already know.  But if you really want to know, I'll tell you."

She bites her lip and contemplates for a moment.  She speaks.  "Go on.  You were going to explain something to me."

He snaps his fingers as if he suddenly remembers.  "Ah, yes! There are two angels as you can see."

She sees the angels again.  It was almost as if for a moment, she forgot she saw them the first time around.

"You will forget the angels every time you look away from them," he replies.  "They are only meant to be your guide."

"My guide?"

He nods.

"For what?"

"Well," he gently strokes his beard.  "That's your decision to make.  Either way, they both lead to the same place.  One is just a longer journey than the other."

"Am I in heaven?"  Darling asks.

He gives a contemplative face.  "Eh, more or less," he answers.  "But we really call them realms.  Right now, you are in the realm where good souls stay until you're ready to be reborn."

"That means," Darling almost dares not say the words, but manages to anyway.  "I'm dead?"

"Only the shell, dear," Jonah replies.  As to quote Thomas Hobbes:  'The disembodied spirit is immortal; there is nothing of it that can grow old or die.  But the embodied spirit sees death on the horizon as soon as the day dawns.'."

"Oh," she replies.  "And what about my loved ones?"

"You can watch over them anytime you like," he answers.  "I merely give you a choice of which path you choose:  The long one, or the short one."

"What's the long one?"

"Well this one," Jonah points to the angel on the right.  "She will take you to a different life.  It will be like you're reliving your life all over again, but it will be in a different situation.  Either way, you're still meant to be with us on this very day."

"And the other?"

"The other one will lead you to the life you've always known.  In both worlds, you can watch your family without you.  One version may never know you while the other one does.  Either way, you'll still be back here, watching over them."

"So, you're telling me I had a different life in another," she pauses at the thought for a moment.  "Realm?"

"That is correct," he replies.  "There is a parallel universe.  You can choose what you want to see."

"I see," Darling replies.

She bites down on her lip to think about this. Is she even remotely curious how her life could have been in a parallel universe?  And what if my life was no good there?  All these questions flooded her mind.

A few moments passed and she speaks.  "I've made my decision."

"Are you sure?"  Jonah asks.  "Once you go down that path, there is no going back."

"I'm sure," Darling answers.  "What do I have to do?"

"Just stand in front of the angel of  your choice, and close your eyes.  The angel will touch you, and you will arrive at your destination."

Darling sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  She walks over to the angel, and closes her eyes.

She blinked, and is now exactly where she wants to be.

Written 8/31/15, Monday by ©Diana Jillian

THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO DEBORAH.  I MISS YOU, BUT I KNOW YOU'LL NEVER BE FAR AWAY.

I HAVE NO GUESSES.  I'M IN NUMB MODE.  I CAN'T THINK STRAIGHT!!!  SORRY IN ADVANCE.

~~DJ





































Prose, Short Story, Dedication,