I like trying out new recipes, tweaking them as I see fit, writing stories, and discovering neat and unique items, things, articles, etc. Well, they are to me anyways. I would like to have somewhere to place these interests of mine. Sooooo, a blog seemed the best place to have it all in one place, and maybe even pique the interest of any passerby's who happen to indulge in similar interests to that of my own.
The idea for an actual topic for my own blog was one of my pitfalls in the beginning - months ago. I was toying with different ideas, but nothing fit perfectly for my broad categories of ideas, and I even debated a blog on the daily life of raising a child with adhd - for all those people who wanted to share stories or to just listen/read about my own experiences and thus know that they are not alone. These children are hard at times, but are also very bright. A huge thing for me is the fact that their 'label' is unjust in so many ways, with so many misconceptions. So, maybe I will throw in a topic on this from time to time. I am random, so expect it.
Yes, let me introduce myself, I am a 31 year old single mom of two wonderful boys, aged 6 years apart, now 3 1/2 and 9 1/2. I live on the eastern side of the island of Newfoundland, but was born and raised on its west coast. I love to write, paint, camp - among many other things. I love sour candy - especially sour bones, which I can now ONLY find at one store in the downtown of St. John's here in Newfoundland, called the Freak Lunchbox - awesome store with many old time candy and new as well, some of which cannot be found elsewhere apparently - that I know of anyways. Maybe some other candy shops that i haven't visited. Meh. Yes, as I said - I am random. It is me. Random inspirations will be my driving force for this blog, and I hope it will motivate me to, above all else, get back into writing. I shall start with a revised story I wrote roughly two years ago. Even that is a big step for me. I usually write children's stories but I wrote this very much adult story - whenever I say that people picture 'XXX' - None of that in here though. It's just my attempt at a distinction from my typical children's writing and content. This is one of the first non-children's stories that was meant to get me out of my 'comfort zone', which is typically children's fiction. Fantasy to be more precise Picture The chronicles of Narnia, or Harry Potter. This short story, is something completely different. Hope you enjoy. My mind can get much more in depth. Gotta <3 imagination!
Greedy Eyes
Caitlyn stared up at the
bleakness of the four white walls surrounding her. She sat on her bed with her
legs curled up and her arms wrapped tightly around them. Staring off towards
the tiny window in the door, her eyes began to glaze over as she thought back
to how a jail cell felt, and she smiled at the irony of the fact that she now
wished she were there instead. Thinking back to the last time that she had been
in one, she recalled waking to the sound of her fathers’ voice, and how he had looked
down at her shaking his head while talking to the uniformed man beside him.
The metal
rungs of the door had slid noisily to the side and Caitlyn was led out to him.
Looking up cautiously at her fathers’ face, her eyes met his and she wouldn't
look away until he gave a meek smile. Wrapping her hands around his waist, he
reciprocated the gesture, and gave her a gentle nudge before leading her
outside into the early morning’s sunlight.
“Honey,
leave it to those organizations…like the Greenpeace. If anything is to be done,
they’ll make it happen.”
“But dad,
that’s the problem! If everyone expects someone else to do something about it,
then there wouldn't even be a Greenpeace in the first place!”
A
high-pitched wail snapped her out of her memory for a second as Caitlyn sat reminiscing about how easy those overnight stays in that jail cell were, compared to
the long dragged out days here. Gritting her teeth, her mind raced back to the
last day that she had been free of this place. She had been at the edge of that
field, she thought bitterly as her mind pictured it's vastness of tall, tangled grass and weeds. She remembered being there, remembered how she had
endlessly called out to the unseen voices. She even remembered her mini
breakdown in which she had frantically shook her head in an attempt to be rid
of them.
“Caitlyn…Caitlyn…what’s
wrong?” She had heard her mothers startled voice, sounding so distant and low
over the sound of the overbearing, pitiful cries that resounded within her head.
“So many,
where are they coming from?” Caitlyn had cried out, as she scrambled to her
feet, avoided the ‘no trespassing’ sign, and ran out into the field, batting
away the tall blades of grass as she had veered wildly from left to right.
“Who
Caitlyn?” her mothers shrill voice came from the fields’ edge.
“Don’t
you hear them?” Caitlyn yelled to her mother, confused and frustrated.
“I don’t
hear anything, Caitlyn, who?” her mothers’ agitated scream barely reached
Caitlyn’s consciousness.
“I don’t
know! But I need to help them,” Caitlyn had sobbed as she buckled over,
falling to her knees, as she clasped her hands to her eyes, and her shoulders
shuddered uncontrollably.
“You’re
starting to scare me dear.”
Through
her hazy reminiscences of that day, Caitlyn recalled those words as the last
thing that her mother had said to her, and as Caitlyn now sat staring at the
starkness of her surroundings, she again questioned how her mother could have
ever put her in here.
For four
years she had stared at these empty white walls, exposed to the
random echoes of one scream or another. At first she had cringed at the sound
of each hysterical laugh, and had felt sorry for each prolonged pitiful sob.
But now, none of these things could even elicit a blink from her.
Each
night Caitlyn woke to the same dream. It took place in the same grassy field.
Caitlyn knew the area well, for it was the same field that she had heard those
poor children crying out in vain years ago. She recalled playing there as a
child herself, remembered the strange man that lived at the far side of the
field, cringing as she recalled how his greedy eyes were frequently upon her as
she had played with her friends. Now this man was in her dreams. Caitlyn would
see him; see those greedy eyes as they peeked out from some kind of darkness
underneath the ground, hardly visible through the stalks of thick grass around
them.
Caitlyn
started accepting the medications that she was offered, and started to
participate in group sessions. She stopped telling people of her recurring
dream. She even told them that they had finally stopped. To please them, she
even nodded in agreement as the doctors told her that the voices that she heard
in her head so long ago had never really been there.
Caitlyn
skimmed her fingertips along the rough surface of the brick opposite of those
treacherous white walls. Her father stood smiling at her from the open gate
entrance. When she reached him, he embraced her tightly before they started off
on the walk home. They talked excitedly and smiled constantly, until they
neared the field. Caitlyn grew silent and her smile faded “Si-lence,” she
choked out as a sob tore from her chest.
Caitlyn’s
father reached out for her, but before he could grasp her arm, she had turned
and was running to the place where she kept seeing those horrible eyes from her
dream. Once there, Caitlyn abruptly dropped to her knees and tore wildly at the
grass around her.
“Caitlyn!”
Her father cried out as he started off towards her, momentarily stopping as he
saw her raise a mound of grass and dirt from the earth, revealing what he could
tell was a wooden latch underneath. He then began to run towards her, faster
than before, as she descended down into the darkness of the hole that she had
created within the ground. Once there, he craned his neck questionably, peering
down into the darkness. The faint light of Caitlyn's cell phone grew dimmer and
he called down to her, “Caitlyn, honey, this is private property, we have no
right…
He was
interrupted as she came barreling up the rickety wooden steps and pushed him
out of the way before uncontrollably vomiting upon the ground in which he had
just stood. All he could understand through her choked sobs was something to
do with a small teddy bear with one eye missing and a pile of small bones in a
corner.
It took the
police a full hour to even show up, but once they did, it didn’t take them long
to seal off the area, or for the media to overwhelm Caitlyn with questions.
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