Story #41

“Woah! How did you do that,” Jake asked excitedly.

“I’m not really sure,” Camille responded. “There’s a light that burns inside of me. I feel it in my limbs and it glows from my core. It’s something I discovered a few days ago.”

Jake shook his head in disbelief. He knew there was something special about his best friend, but this was magical. “What else can you do?”

Camille lifted her hands, palms up, and closed her eyes. A flame no bigger than a tennis ball erupted from her palms. She opened her eyes and smiled widely. The flames danced in her hands. She felt powerful. Once she closed her hand into a fist, the fire disappeared.

“So are you some kind of witch now? You should put a spell on Jake Gyllenhaal to fall in love with me. We’d be the cutest couple and have our own TV show called ‘The Jakes.’ I can see it now.” Jake gazed at nothing as he fantasized about what powers Camille might have.

“Slow down, Romeo,” Camille replied. “All I can do is blast light or create fire. I’m not Cupid.”

Jake frowned. “I guess that’s cool,” he said  playfully. “So what’s the plan for tonight? Hang out at the mall? Go to the movies? Start a forest fire?”

Camille laughed. “Well, I do want to see that new movie with Kirsten Stewart in it. Twilight?”

“Nooooo, don’t tell me you’re one of those pathetic 23 year old vampire fanatics. I can see it now: girl falls in love with vampire, then burns him with her hands. Snore!”

“Come on, Jake. You know I only want to go so that I can…write a review on my blog about how stupid it is?” Camille smiled and put her hands together, as if to beg Jake to tag along.

“Fine, I’ll go, but you’re buying the popcorn!”

“Deal,” Camille replied.

When they arrived at the movie theater, there were barely any cars in the parking lot. “Well this seems odd for a Friday night,” Camille said.

“Duh,” Jake replied. “That’s because everyone is out partying, not going to the movies.”

“Who’s partying at 6:58pm? This is prime movie going time. Maybe it’s a good thing nobody is here though because that means there won’t be a crap ton of people in the theater.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “There was never going to be a crap ton of people going to see Twilight, sweetie. What time does the movie start again?”

“7:05pm. I’ll get the tickets and you get the popcorn,” Camille said.

“Um, no. Give me the cash for your ticket and our popcorn. I want to miss as much of this movie as possible.”

Camille grabbed a $20 bill from her purse and handed it to Jake. “I’ll get our seats. Hopefully I can find good ones!”

Jake looked around the nearly empty parking lot. “I’m sure it’ll be so tough.” They laughed and walked their separate ways.

“Two adults for Twilight, please,” said Jake.

“That’ll be $16. Good thing you came when you did. We’re almost sold out for that showing,” the clerk said.

“You have to be kidding me. Not that many cars are in the parking lot.”

“There’s been groups of teenage girls filtering into that movie since 6pm. We had to open the screening room early because a line was forming. I hope you get the seats you want.”

“Thanks, man.” Jake walked away and stood in the short concession line. He took his phone out of his pocket and saw that he had a text from Camille.

SO many tweens.

Jake laughed and wrote back:

Burn them all. Let God sort ’em out.

Camille received Jake’s text and laughed. She had managed to find relatively good seats on the fourth row, near the middle. Of course she and Jake would be squished between girls no older than the age of 13, but at least they’d be able to see shirtless vampires. Camille began scrolling through MySpace when a few kernels of popcorn landed on her phone. She looked up, expecting to see Jake, but saw no one. A few girls behind her snickered. She ignored them and continued looking at her phone.

“Hey, so did I miss anything yet?” Jake sat next to Camille and handed her the popcorn.

“Nope, just a few previews.” Camille felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see a girl who dressed like she was 21, but looked like she was 12. “Can you please stop talking?” She said innocently. Camille gave an embarrassed smile and nodded her head. She turned back to Jake who was eyeing the little girl.

“Well that was rude,” he said. At that moment, popcorn hit Jake on his cheek. He quickly swiveled his head around. The girls sitting behind he and Camille pretended they were looking at the screen the whole time, but had huge smiles on their faces. Jake turned back to face the screen.

The movie started and people in the theater began clapping. Camille started to feel like coming here wasn’t the best idea. Something didn’t feel right. Jake grabbed a handful of popcorn from Camille’s lap. Something crunchy moved around in his mouth. Astonished, Jake spit the food into his hand. What looked like a small roach was crushed in his popcorn.

“What the fuck!” Jake yelled and stood up, throwing his chewed, and untouched, popcorn on the floor.

Camille, confused by all the commotion, asked, “What’s wrong?” Jake threw Camille’s popcorn on the ground.

“Bugs,” he shouted. The girls next to him started screaming. A wave of “Oh my gosh” and “What the hell” erupted in the theater. Chaos was happening because of Jake’s outburst. Suddenly, the girls behind Camille threw their popcorn on her. “Bugs,” one of the girls said, mimicking Jake’s voice.

Jake turned around and said, “Excuse you! I’ve had enough of y’all. I’m talking to the manager. Camille, I’ll be right back. Don’t touch that popcorn!” He stormed out of the theater and everything calmed down. Camille brushed the popcorn off herself and started to follow Jake until she heard the 21 year old wannabe say, “Dumb bitch. She’s way too old for this movie.” Her friends laughed.

Camille’s patience was thinning at a rapid rate. She turned to face the girls. “Do you have a problem, little girl?”

The little girl looked at her and rolled her eyes. Camille, engulfed with fury, thrust her hand, palms open, toward the little girl. Light blinded the child and her surrounding friends.

“Ma’am, is there a problem,” a voice said behind her. Camille closed her eyes and screams erupted from in front of her. Heat vibrated near her. She opened her eyes and the girls that she was facing were now covered in flames, screaming and trying to run away.

“What the hell, Camille,” Jake yelled. Everyone in the theater began stampeding towards the exits. Camille faced Jake to tell him sorry, but she didn’t close her fists, which continued to send out flames. Her best friend caught on fire, screaming in agony. All hell broke lose. She closed her hands to make a fist, but a fire ball circle around them. She couldn’t control the power. She opened her hands again and fire shot to the ceiling, submerging the whole theater in flames.

Camille stood in place, dumbfounded. “What have I done,” she cried.

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Poem #1

Today, I am fat.
It’s not anything new because I’ve been this way
As long as I can remember
And it always bothered me,
But not as much as today.
Today my bulges stick out a little further,
My stomach portrudes over my “fat shorts,”
And my jowls look chunkier,
Flapping over my almost invisible neck.
Today my breasts are saggy with age,
My butt round (in a bad way),
And my demeanor pitiful
Because today I weighed myself
For the first time in over a year.
Maybe I should’ve known how much I
Gained
When shirts fit a little tighter,
Or when they began to fit A LOT TIGHTER;
Maybe I should’ve known how much I
Gained
When my pants refused to slip
Over my jumbo thighs
Or when the leggings kept getting holes
In
The
Same
Place
(My inner thigh, of course).
Either way, what I needed
More than anything
Was to feel the opposite of pitiful.
Fierce was my middle name
A few years ago,
Back when I probably shouldn’t have had
THAT
Much confidence.
The years freely rolled on
And the rolls on my back increased,
But you made me believe I was nothing less than
Beautiful all these years,
Until now.
Right now, I feel ugly.
I’m the hideous creature lurking in the shadows,
Grasping to the skinny figure
Hiding under all my fat
And maybe that’s why I feel this way.
I want to yell,
“Hug me, damn it!
I need you so bad right now,”
But I can’t.
I need you to love me now
And tell me I’m the
Perfectly Imperfect
Love of your life
Because, darling, I’m falling apart.
I’m 10 seconds from giving up
And 20 seconds from spewing tears,
And maybe 30 seconds from
Eating a cheeseburger.
It’s not your fault I feel this way,
If anything it’s your fault for
Making me so damn happy all the time.
We happily eat meals together,
Gaining
All the happy calories and fat
Gaining
All the weight on my body now,
Gaining
The lack of courage or confidence
That I now have
Because I can no longer say no to food.
I just don’t feel happy with myself,
But I’m trying.
And I have to try because
Today, I am fat.

Some parts are true, some parts are not. Meh. Summer time again which means more writing!!!

Power.

Dainty women in high heels,

Passing out meat pinwheels,

Serving the men as they all chatter.

 

Bending over oh so primly

So you don’t see above the knee.

Nobody wants to be called a slut.


Some men give a quick, hard smack,

Others rub the small of backs.

They think that they’re the ones that matter.

 

Ignorance will make men suffer

With the women always tougher.

The meat given is poison in their gut.

It’s been an extremely long time awhile since I’ve written anything on here. I thought I lost my mojo, and I probably did.  Too many outside influences fed into my mental block and eventually it felt like my writing annoyed people more than it made me feel good. I can’t won’t write as much as I did over the summer since school has started again (and I’m a teacher with students that depend on me), but I will try my best to write more often. I’ve missed this even more than I realized.

I’m back.

PSA Numero Dos

I absolutely forgot to write a story. It popped into my head every now and then, but at times when I couldn’t write. *sigh* I’ll write tomorrow.

Writing every day is my goal, but sometimes it may not happen. This is the 2nd time. I’ll allow myself 5 passes.

Story #7

“Yesterday I sent myself a dozen roses. Is that absolutely pathetic,” May asked her best friend, Sara. Sara stroked her chin, as if pretending to really think about the question.

“Hmmm,” Sara replied. “It depends. What reason did you send yourself flowers?”

“Well, Leo never sends me roses or does anything to show he was just thinking about me. I took the initiative and sent myself some roses to show him what he should do.”

“Who’s bank account did they charge?”

“Mine, of course.”

“Then yes, you are absolutely pathetic. If you wanted him to send you flowers, you should’ve been straight forward and told him. Maybe then you wouldn’t have $30 less in your account.” Sara gave a  knowing smile.

“$26 actually. I suppose you’re right. I just don’t want to be one of those needy girls that begs their boyfriends to do things for them and then get mad when they don’t do it. That’s just not me.” May flopped down on Sara’s comfortable couch and began to take a sip from her green tea.

“No, you just want to be one of those girls that hints things to her boyfriend and then gets mad when he doesn’t take the hint. I think that’s a bit worse. Why can’t you just be open with him?”

This is why May told Sara everything. She made sense of the world. May wished she was more like her best friend. Sara was a successfully published self-help author who lived in a gorgeous flat with her two dogs, Tom and Jerry. She always claimed that those were the only men she’d ever need in her life.

May sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. The hint didn’t work anyways. Leo came home from work, read the card next to the roses, and laughed. He laughed at me! When he saw me staring at him, he said, ‘Cute card, babe.’ What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. What did the card say?”

“It said, ‘You deserve every bit of happiness. I love you. Love, Me.'”

Sara nearly spit out her tea while trying to hold in her laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why did you even give yourself a card to go with the flowers? You know what, it doesn’t matter. You’re better than this, May. Why is it that women always scour every little thing that a man does? Maybe he literally thought the card was funny and that was it. Move on, girl. Also, you should send yourself flowers because you want to, not because you want him to do it.”

May wasn’t expecting Sara to respond that way, but she knew that Sara was right. It was time for her to put on her big girl pants and treat herself the way she wants to be treated without worrying about if Leo would do the same for her. It was just so hard.

“But you don’t understand! It’s not even just the flowers. I want him to do more things to show that he cares. I want him to show that he needs me just as much as I need–”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t need any man to be happy. If you care about yourself first, then everything else should fall into place.”

Sara hugged May. “Now, let’s watch this cheesy scary movie and enjoy ourselves without talking about Leo, okay? Let’s just have fun!” May nodded in agreement. It would take time, but she was going to learn how to love herself again.

When ever you’re down in the dumps, your friends are always there to show you your worth. I loved writing this story because it reminded me of a skewed version of my best friend, Monica. We have a balanced friendship like this one. This story was fun to write, especially since I decided to have mainly dialogue this time. **Side note: My boyfriend said that May should just break up with her boyfriend. LOL.