Crayons

soo....this was for my creative writing final portfolio. Tell me whatcha think!

I’ve always been fascinated by brand new Crayola Crayons. The first time I got my own set was for my 6th birthday. I loved everything about them, their perfectly waxy cylindrical bodies with their clean construction paper covering that is a tinge lighter than the actual color makes me want to pick up each and every one and feel the smooth glide of the waxy head on the paper.

My mom would always get on to me for being so messy, until one day she finally realized that there was a door to the Robin’s Egg Blue room that contained all of it. I have always been messy. I still am. One thing I am not, though, is dirty. I am most definitely the direct opposite of dirty. Anything that is dirty I make sure and clean it until those Inchworm Green germs and their ancestors are destroyed.

* * *

When I was just a 5 year-old, the troubles started. My parents had always fought, but these troubles were different. They were beyond different. My dad had just finished school and my mom had a job working for a local law firm. My dad got a job at an incredible business and my mom was done with work by around noon. So, my dad would drop me off at kindergarten in the Blue Gray morning and my mom would pick me up in the Goldenrod afternoon. As the school year went by, though, I started to arrive later and later to kindergarten. I would get upset at my dad and cry, but he would just end up yelling at me and telling me that there’s nothing he can do about it. My mom would pick me up at the same time, but each time I’d see her she’d be more and more tired looking. I would constantly ask her what’s wrong, but she would just look and me, pat my Tumbleweed hair, and tell me not to worry about it.

* * *

Each night I spend over 3 hours scrubbing down my apartment. My room never gets touched. Everything else in the apartment gets so scrubbed that it permanently smells like lemon Pinesol. I take the Lemon Yellow liquid and squirt it into a bucket, take a new sponge out of the package, and scrub my kitchen, walls, bathroom sink, toilet, tub, shower, and floors until I feel satisfied and dump the Raw Umber colored water outside and throw the sponge in the dumpster. When I walk back to my apartment, I generally have to leave my front door open for 5 minutes until it smells normal again. As much as I hate the smell of cleaner, I have to do it. Then, after I am done, I walk into my messy room and climb into my unmade bed.

* * *

One day I was so late to Kindergarten that my teacher pulled my dad aside and told him she was concerned about my constant tardiness. She wondered if there was anything she could do to make it easier for me to get to school on time, because if I continued in being tardy I would miss too many days of school and have to be held back a year. A lot of what she was saying didn’t really make sense, but my 5 year old self understood perfectly well that “held back a year” meant that all my friends would go to first grade and I wouldn’t get to go with them. My eyes welled up with tears as my dad told my teacher fine, and walked out of the room without even giving me a hug goodbye. Somedays my dad would act like this, he would come out of his bedroom the most depressed and sadistic person on the face of the earth. Other times he would walk out of his room happy as a clam and acting like the cloudy winter light peeking through the windows were instead Unmellow Yellow rays of sunshine. Those were the days when I didn’t care if I was late for school. Those were the days when he’d take me to get doughnuts and a Barbie Doll before school, so we’d be late and happy on purpose.

* * *

For some reason when I walk into my room, I can feel a sort of peace. The Tropical Rain Forest walls bring just the right lighting so that I can sit down and relax just by looking at the walls. Tropical Rain Forest has always been my favorite color, it’s so warm and deep. Everywhere else in the apartment gives me a headache. The White walls with the Macaroni and Cheese cabinets under the florescent light messes with my eyes and I can only stay in the living room/ kitchen combo only long enough until I’m done with whatever I’m doing. Maybe I should paint in there too. Actually, maybe its the florescent lights. They always give me a headache. I think that the world needs to permanently get rid of florescent lights. They only do two things: cause people to look washed out and give people headaches.

* * *

This trend continued for the rest of the year until I was in first grade, then I was able to ride the bus by myself. Now, things started changing, heavily. The only time I would see my dad was on his sunny days and on the Saturdays when we’d go and visit his office for lunch. I would always play with the tape and paperclips while my little sister would scribble on his computer paper. This would continue for half an hour until my mom would come and pick us up. The whole time my dad not saying anything, if it was one of those days. The rest of the days, I would get home from school and my mom and little sister would be either making cookies or creating some new arts and crafts until dinner. Then around 8:30 we’d go to bed, generally not hearing my dad come home.

* * *

I feel bad for whoever I end up marrying someday. My clean-freak side does generally scare relationships away, so maybe I won’t ever have to deal with it. I have had roommates in the past, but they’ve gotten in the way. Humans really are disgusting things. I couldn’t deal with them. One would leave her dishes in the sink, all the time. I’d ask her to clean them until one day she looked at me and told me that a sink is to hold dirty dishes, not to just stand there disinfected. I looked at her, raised my eyebrow and went into my room. She didn’t stay very long. Another roommate I had would always drink the water directly from the faucet when she would brush her teeth and leave toothpaste all over the faucet head, which would gross me out. So, I would put a clean paper cup with her name on it each night until she got the hint. When she did finally understand what I was telling her (I would clean the faucet immediately after she brushed her teeth) she got really offended and moved out the next month. It was a pity, I actually liked her.

* * *

One night I decided to stay up to see my dad come home. My mom tucked me into bed and then while she was putting my little sister to sleep I snuck out of my room and sat on our Manatee leather sofa until I fell asleep. I woke up when my dad pulled into the driveway. I looked at my Mulberry Barney and Friends watch that I got for my 6th birthday and tried to tell time, but couldn’t quite figure it out. Right then, my mom walked out of the hallway, so I threw our Violet Blue, Tickle Me Pink, Mango Tango and Black afghan over my head and curled up underneath. While looking through the holes and holding my breath I successfully remained unnoticed. My mom walked into the kitchen table and pulled a chair out noisily and sat down. The hot air was stifling me, and I was getting desperate for fresh air. The same time I created a small opening with my toes, my dad walked in.

* * *

I really should clean my room, but I don’t have time. Between work and cleaning the rest of my apartment I’m tired by the time I am free. I guess there’s always the weekends. The weekends are my heaviest cleaning day of the week. In the morning I wake up at 7, go to the gym for an hour, eat my breakfast consisting of granola and yogurt, and begin. I start by wiping down the Eggplant couch, then move to shampooing the Desert Sand carpet after vacuuming, then I wipe down all the walls and ceiling, and move to the Kitchen counters, stove, sink, fridge, pantry, and garbage can, then to the bathroom sink, toilet, tub, and mirrors. After all of that I wrap it up with a really long cleaning of the floors. I open the windows, put on my coat, and go to lunch or dinner--depending on how long it takes me. The whole time hoping a friend might call me.

* * *

My dad walked right passed me into the kitchen. My mom started with small talk, mainly talking about his day and what happened during her day. The Raw Sienna table clacked under my mom’s fingers as she strummed them in the awkward silence. “Have you been doing it again?” “Doing what?” “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” “No, I don’t think I do.” “You know they’re going to catch you.” “No, they won’t, you’re crazy, you know. There’s nothing wrong with what I do. It makes me happy, makes me forget.” “I thought I used to make you happy and make you forget. You have daughters, what do you think will happen if you get them involved in your little ‘happy time’?” “Nothing will happen, and don’t you DARE bring the girls into this. I’m under control, do you understand?” After he said this, I crawled over to the corner that separated the living room and kitchen. Still under my blanket I peaked through the holes and watched as my dad, in his white button up shirt and Razzmatazz tie pick up my mom by the elbows and shake her. “This is all your fault you know, you caused my problems. You’re always gone. And if you’re here you just sit there and blab on and on about your day and your problems. What about my problems? I work all day to provide for this family and all I ask for is something for me. I found the stuff that helps me get away, and now you’re telling me I’m not allowed?!” “Look at you! Look at you! Your skin is sagging, you have bruises on your arms, and you’re constantly depressed.”

Looking at this scene I started to whimper. I realized that my parents would realize that I was there, but I didn’t care. They both heard me and made their way toward the hall. My dad looked at me with a look that I will never forget. It was a mix of terror and detachment from the world. His face went from Cerise to Fern and back to Cerise red again, and I became scared looking into his eyes with dark circles of Vivid Violet underneath. Through my cries, he picked me up by the waste, shook me violently, and through me against the trash can causing it to tip over. I looked around and everything was covered in the Yellow Green raw egg and flower leftovers from the cooking adventure earlier in the night. My mom went to go help me through screams of terror as he smacked her across the face causing her nose to break and the Radical Red blood to go over the entire kitchen floor. My dad looked at what he had done and ran out the door. After that day we never saw him again, mainly because we moved but most likely because my mom won’t allow him to see us.

* * *

My apartment is a disaster, even though I clean it every day. I know it is clean, but for some reason I can’t ever allow it to feel clean. As much as I spray down the trash can, and scrub the tile floors until I can see my reflection in them, I can’t ever allow it to be clean. I wish everything was like brand new Crayola Crayons. It would make things a lot easier. If life was as clean and pristine as a new crayon I wouldn’t torture myself like this and get anxious every time I see a single speck on the floor.

one.

"You've got to promise me, Sage, you won't tell."

   Sage looked up from her paper at her squatty, rather pretty, friend, whose deep brown eyes were looking at her intently. They kind of reminded her of a cow's eyes, not that Dayna looks anything like a cow. They're just really big and brown. 

"Yeah, yeah, I promise. I won't tell." she said, not really knowing what she agreed to not tell. Dayna comes with drama. Sage discovered this when she got into college. Drama is Dayna's middle name. Every week she'd come in with some knew boy and how she thinks he's "the one." What is the one anymore? All of this crazy view of "the one" kinda drives one insane after awhile. 

Sage looked at the clock on the kitchen wall of her apartment and realized it was time for class. She ran into her messy room and grabbed all of her books and glanced in the mirror at herself to make sure that she wasn't too horrible looking. "You never know who you can run into" she thought to herself. Sage's six foot-one inch person stared back at her. She glanced at her slightly auburn-ish hair, adjusted her bra, then got really close to the mirror and looked at her poors. "Dang poors, no matter how much money I put into you you still like to explode into violent volcanoes of puss." Then she ran out of the third floor apartment and started on her way up the giant stares to class. 

Walking to class was always a calming thing for her. It was then where she could think of whatever she wanted and imagine whatever she wanted. It was usually her thinking of some sort of relationship that she wished existed, mainly because that's what happens when you go to a school where everybody and anybody is either married, engaged, or dating. Kinda annoying. She would always remind herself though that she doesn't want to get married, after she daydreams, there's so much more to do with life still...

A tall man walks behind her and steps on the back of her shoe. Everything goes flying including her tall, lanky self. He stops picks up her books, and gives her his hand. She looks at him. The guy who helped her is extremely good looking! She grabs his hand and he glances at her, mumbles an apology, and still holding her books, walks her to class. 

She walks into the building and the mysterious man vanishes in to thin air with the bell. Sage sighs, and walks into the basement classroom. She takes a seat in the second to last row of the florescent lit room and settles in. Her teacher's lisp sticks out and that's the only thing that she listens to. Then his mouth slowly starts to disappear until all that's left is the "ssss"--or "ththththth" in his case--his eyes slowly get closer and closer until he only has one and the white board fads behind him into nothing-ness. He is now just a floating head. A floating "thyclopth" head. 

"Brriiinggg!" The bell rings again and she walks out of the windowless classroom past her balding teacher and back into the jam-packed, body-odor, hallway. 

"I really need to pay more attention..."She said to herself. 

Walking back down the stairs to her apartments, she decides that she doesn't want to daydream anymore. It gets in the way, and is completely unreal. So, she counts. She would count how many steps it takes between each overgrown crack in the sidewalk. Her long legs stride in beat to the blasting radios passing by on the street below and she has to have three steps between each individual crack. Three. It had to be three, or at least each foot had to have the equal chance of being first to step into the concrete square. "Squares," she'd think, "they're so easy...why can't everything be that equal and easy, does that make me a square? Am I boring like a square? Ok...no more thinking! I'm tired of thinking...that's all I ever do..."

She walks up the two flights of stairs making sure that her feet got the same chance of being the first to step on the first step. "I'm really obsessive-compulsive...should I have this looked at? I'll talk to Wade tomorrow..." 

Everything she'd think of would end in an ellipse. Nothing was concrete, everything just faded into a series of three dots...

She walked into her apartment and flung herself on the couch, backpack full of books and all, and reached for the remote in the middle of the living room floor. Dayna walks in glares at her and says "don't you ever do anything productive with yourself?"

Sage tunes her out, once again, and turns into zombie mode. Some sort of rerun of a  basketball game is going on. "Basketball is good and mindless," she says to herself. Television and movies are the only things that keep her from thinking. They allow her to glance into the imagination of other people. She doesn't have to think, just watch. Nice and simple.

Her backpack slowly gets wiggled out of, without disturbing her position, and finds its way on the floor with a thud, along with her size ten shoes. She adjusts herself more into the crevice of the couch and gazes, glassy eyed at the screen full of noise, yelling, and little people running back and forth with the burnt-orange ball.

The time flies by as she becomes more and more zombie-like. Just a nothing. Dayna walks in and out, complaining about something, but nobody is or wants to pay attention. A commercial for some sort of beer came on along with a violent ring from her cell phone. She groaned as she pulled herself up from her position to grab her phone from across the room. 

"mmm-ello?" She managed to get out.

"Sage, what are you doing tonight?"

She closed her eyes, furrowed her eyebrows and opened her eyes again. "What?" She said.

"What are you doing tonight?" 

"Oh, I don't know yet, why?"

"Eh, it's just a Friday night and I thought you'd like to do something."

"Is it really Friday already? Oh, yeah...I guess it is...Uh, sure. What did you have in mind?"

"Well I was gonna go to this new place out on 9th street, it's supposed to be pretty good."

The deeply foreign accented voice kept explaining about this new hip place and she just kept thinking "I like hip, maybe it'd be good if I get out. I like to get dressed up every once in awhile...but these dang zits..."

"So, what do you say?"

"Ok. That'd be fun, I've been a little too boring lately."

The voice chuckled low and soft while saying, "ok. I'll pick you up at around 8?"

"Sounds good."

The soft click from the other side of the call commences and her mind starts up again. "Did I just get asked on a date? Huh. That's interesting..."

Wednesday Rain

The strangely consistent drizzling continues throughout the afternoon. I walk to class with my snake skin print umbrella and look at all of the other students in their different colored coats and umbrellas. 

Rain always makes me relaxed, and want to just curl up in my down comforter all day with a movie and hot chocolate. That's actually probably what I'll do the rest of the day. It's Wednesday and I don't have swim practice this afternoon so I can do that. Wednesdays are always weird days to me because I only have a morning of lifting those iron things that people call "weights" and a small amount of yardage, and because I don't have to swim in the afternoon I want to look a little bit more human. Which doesn't make any sense to me though because I don't really see anyone all day unless I go to the library, but I don't really have to because I caught up with everything. So I dress up for myself and my self esteem. Either that or it's because I think maybe some random guy will see me and ask me out...HAHAHA yeah right.

The other athletes in "study hall" are just kind of sitting there. Trying to study, but at the same time resisting the urge to talk to each other. It doesn't work very well though. The constant jabbering never dies down.

I should know. I do the exact same thing every time I come in. It's like the thought that you're trying not to say just builds and builds until it explodes and everyone around hears your "all important thought" when it really doesn't matter. People really don't get much done. Not at all. They're really all just on facebook trying to delve into each others lives. 

The rain is still going and going. The sidewalks aren't as crowded as they are when the rain isn't there. The hundreds of little puddles splash my jeans as I walk home in the rain with my snake skin print umbrella.  

Morning time

This story is kinda boring...sorry. I just don't have any weird story on top of my mind. So I wrote how my morning has been. Minus the pee soaked toilet seat that I sat on, I guess that's what happens when you have a 2 year-old potty training little brother.

I woke up this morning to the sounds of my family moving about the house. Like always. It was the first day of school, for them anyway, I don't start for another week. My little sister was going to be a sophomore at the high school down the street that I had the unfortunate event of graduating from, my mom was going into her tenth year of teaching at the same high school, and my little brother was going to kindergarten. That was the weirdest thing. Teddy and kindergarten. He's only 3! Wait...no I guess he's 5, but it seems like he should still be 3.

Anyway, I looked at my phone/alarm clock to see what time it was and it was 7:02. I was kind of annoyed. I stayed up until 12:40 last night watching t.v. and then later than that because I'm trying to get over this weird summer cold and I couldn't stop coughing. But, I got up anyway to see Teddy off. I didn't have my contacts or glasses on, so I couldn't see anything. My mouth was coated with some sort of goo from my cough, but I figured I was going to go back to sleep anyway, so I don't have to brush my teeth. Just yet. It was Teddy's first day of school, I could sacrifice my comfort. I don't think he really knew what was going on, but I found him on the couch watching some sort of cartoon on PBS. He had his motorcycle shirt on with his basketball short and his socks pulled up as high as they'll go underneath his Transformer Velcro strapped shoes. His hair was pushed to the side, like he always does. I think he copies how my dad does his hair, which makes Teddy look like a really short old man. Teddy takes after the Morgan side of the family like I do, so we look very similar. It makes me reminisce of the old days when the hardest time you faced was going to a new school and worrying if you'll find friends.

Then I went back to sleep until 10. Which is awesome, once school starts I can't sleep in that long. 6 am practices every morning!

Then I woke up, I walked into the bright teal bathroom that my sister and I painted this summer and squinted at myself through my sleepy blurry vision, and put in my contacts. My face was still kinda peely from my chemical peel. I guess no swimming for me today! I brushed all that gunk from my mouth and washed my face. I grabbed some Fruit loops, turned on the t.v. just for some background noise, and sat down with my laptop. My sister's annoying little chihuahua-thing came up and sat by me, begging for some of my food. Ugh, he's such an annoying little rat dog, but he is a snuggley dog. I guess I can deal with it. So, I cracked my toes and settled into my giant comfy couch and got ready for a nice long session with my facebook, hotmail, and blog with PBS kids going in the background. Mostly because I'm too lazy to find the elusive remote.

Disappear...

The sun beat down on my head. It was hot outside. Very hot. I put my hand on top of my dark hair that was pulled back into a pony-braid; the top of my head was probably hot enough to cook an egg. The hard and cracked ground I've been walking on for about 6 hours now was probably hot enough to cook a well-done steak. "Man I'm hungry," I thought simultaneously with my stomach, "when was the last time I'd eaten?" I had eaten about 4 hours ago when I passed the small village. I'm starting to get more familiar with this alien terrain: dirt, dirt, a dried weed, and more dirt.

I'm looking forward to camping tonight. My pack is getting heavy. I have my small one person tent, my gallon water bottle, and a couple of dried astronaut food packs. Although the desert is really hot and everything is really brown, there's some sort of beauty about it. It's starting to turn into evening and the sun is slowly setting. The colors that were missing from the desert light up the sky. Orange, pink, blue, and a touch of green streak across the sky. The clouds seem to interrupt the color and put some sort of color that I can't really put a name to. It's like a dark pinkish green. Then the colors slowly drop to the horizon and mix with the cooling desert floor making it look like a pool of water standing in a nameless shape on the ground.

I think it's about time to start preparing for camp. I'll need some twigs to keep away the creepy little animals that are out and about at night. So I pick up random dried out weeds, making sure that they are especially dry. This is where I'm going to stop for the night. I take my pack off of my back, the cool night air gently kisses the spot where it's been sitting all day allowing my back to gather sweat. I pulled out my little tent that doubles as a cot, and started my fire with my flint. It's little, but it'll keep me safe enough. It's about time to sleep, I need to get up a little before dawn. I crawl into my tent after I've had my meal, and start to drift off to sleep.

I haven't been able to sleep well at night since he was taken. It's unsettling. The screams keep ringing in my head, and pictures flash across my eye lids of him. So beautiful, so young. Why him? I need to find him and find out why.

The race.

This is in honor of the Olympics! I've never been, but this is what I think it'd be like.

Breathe...just breathe....in. out. in. out. It's going to be fine. You'll be ok.

The crowd is getting louder. I know, just breathe. I'm getting more nervous.

Just breathe!

Ok, ok, ok.

Now, open your eyes. It's almost time.

Almost time? What? It couldn't be.

Yeah, it is. This is something you've been waiting for all your life. Just breathe. Ok. See? It's not that bad.

I guess you're right. It's kind of exhilarating. I'm gettin' pumped now! Listen to that! They're chanting my name! I'm SO ready now!

Good. see, I told you.

Now what am I swimming again?

Oh geez..how did we make it here again? You're swimming the 50 free. Remember?

Oh yeah. I remember now. I like this race! It's over nice and fast.

Yeah, but you have to go fast too.

I know what to do. You don't have to tell me everything. Now go away for awhile so I can breathe.

If only I could...

Breathe...breathe...breathe...in. out. in. out.

Now wave....ok. We're good.

"Swimmers, take your mark...." beep!








Look, it's almost over. One more stroke.

Listen to that roar? What did we do? Oh.

Conform to the MAN

The sunlight danced across the floor as it played through the blinds. The cat was startled by the sudden movement and moved over to play in it. Soon enough the feline became tired and fell asleep in the warm light. I haven't ever been too fond of cats, but for some reason this one I've taken a liking to. He doesn't have a name. I just call him cat. He's kind of a free wonderer. All he needs is food and water and kitty litter and he just does his own thing. I guess that's why I kind of admire him. He doesn't have to conform to anybody. In fact, the only reason I have him, I guess, is because I conformed to the man. Either that or it might be the fact that ever since they took over we've only been allowed to have a few things at a time to make things "more fair." Which doesn't make any since at all. We recieve a new outfit once a month; we get an apartment with one bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom; once we reach a certain age and we aren't married, we can get either a dog or a cat. I was never a dog person either.

Before they took over, things were different. Much different. I was only around two, so I can't really remember much. From what they've told us, life was chaotic. Chaos...there is a word that I wonder about sometimes. The most chaos I've seen is when a storm came and there wasn't enough food to go around. That didn't last long though. We're watched everywhere we go. It's kind of like that one book 1984, I guess. They take out a lot of pages now. Anything that puts the idea of being original into the citizen's heads.

Even our food is made for us. Every month we go to the grocery and receive boxes for each family for however days there are in the month. They're usually placed in order too. Anything that is different from anyone else causes chaos. At least that's what I've been taught. I'd like to do something different for once though. Chaos sounds like fun. Wait a second, there's a knock at the door. I'll be right back...