My love, my dear, I’ve been watching you all year.

Okay, no. No poems. That is not how to win one’s love. The second line? Creepy.

My love, my dear, I’ve been waiting for you all year.

That’s better. Ugh! No poems! I smack my head and repeat it once more. That’s not how you do it. I’ve been liking this girl for as long as I can remember, at least when I first met her. Her name is Charalandra Guapatama. Very complicated name, but I’ve made sure I memorized it for this special moment. I start panicking. What if she isn’t a lesbian? I’m just a girl named Carla. Carla Barmudai. She is way out of my league, too. She’s a senior and I’m a junior. All of the other people she dated were men! Not a single woman to be seen as a love interest. Maybe a poem is my best bet at this point. I sigh, placing pen to paper.

My love, my dear, I’ve been waiting for you all year.

That’s all I’ve got. I smack my forehead. Think, think, think, think, think!

I work vigorously the rest of the night, as tomorrow is Friday, and the last day of school. That was the day, out of all other days I chose to confess. I roll my eyes at my inability to muster up courage.

My love, my dear, I’ve been waiting for you all year.

I feel my eyes growing heavy, just my mind chanting this mantra over and over again. My brain jolts me awake before I fell too deep into sleep. I get up, and go to the kitchen. No need to be quiet, as my parents have gone to a hotel for the weekend. “For a break from the kids” they said. Sure. Once I reach the kitchen, I go immediately to the cabinet with the coffee beans and make a cup of black coffee. I ponder my coffee, wondering which way will give the most energy. Black coffee, or sugary coffee? I can’t believe I don’t know this by now, I’ve been making coffee since my sophomore year. Just to be on the safe side, I add sugar and creamer. I take a sip, burning my taste buds along the way. Dammit! Should’ve waited. I take the coffee to my room and continue writing my poem.

My love, my dear, I’ve been waiting for you all year.

Time flies by quick, and before I know it, it’s already 6:30. I read over my poem and decide it’s good. I need to start getting ready so I can leave at 7.

I’ve arrived at school at 7:10, which is 20 minutes before class starts. Charalandra usually arrives five minutes later. I slip a note in her locker to meet me at the book club room, since she’s in that club. Finally she arrives. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Carla?” She asks, a soft lilt to her voice. I’m forced to open my eyes. The only reason she knows my name is because we’ve been together in a lot of partner activities in English class. I recite my poem:

My love, my dear, I’ve been waiting for you all year.

For you to notice me, And be accepting.

What I want to say, Takes a large amount of being brave.

I’m ready to make my confession, I hope you make a decision.

I love you, Do you love me, too?

I open my eyes. And I’m surprised to see Chalarandra softly smiling. I thought for sure she would have been weirded out, or ditched me. But no, she was smiling. “So… what do you say?” I ask her. “Carla… where do I begin?” She asks herself. “It was a very beautiful poem, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know you did poetry,” she compliments. “Oh, I actually don’t, I was just writing this for you.” “Thank you, it was a sweet gesture, it really was. But I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t share the same feelings as you. I’m straight, and although, you are a wonderful person, I don’t think we could pursue a romantic relationship. I’m sorry,” she smiles apologetically. My eyes well up with tears and I sniff. It feels like someone ripped my heart out, shattered it into a million pieces, put it back in, and now I have a no functioning heart. “It’s fine, really” I say, turning away to cry.

!Not a speech, but an interview. I did some research on philosophers before this and found some pretty interesting ones. I thought this one would be interesting for the story!

You awaken. “Where am I?” Then you realize a kerfuffle with someone who claimed to be otherworldly. Someone who wasn’t human.

“So, what are you, if you’re not human?” You asked, jokingly. This was a running joke between you and him since you both met a few days ago. “I? I am an immortal,” he replied “The hell is an “immortal?” “It means we live forever, we have supernatural abilities, but do not fit any category of wizard, witch, sorcerer, sorceress, or anything not listed above.” “No, that’s not possible,” you said, disbelieving. “Why not?” He said, losing patience. His tone sure conveyed his feelings. “There’s no such song as an immortal being, or anything supernatural,” you said, stubbornly. “Do you want me to prove it?” He asked, an edge of danger to his voice, his face darkening. “Oh yes,” you said, daring him. Challenging him. “Very well,” he smiled. And you passed out.

You guessed this was his way of proving himself to be an “immortal”. You looked in the mirror. You looked at yourself in the mirror. He looked like a Slovenian man. He looked like a familiar figure, you recognized him from your history class in college. He was a philosopher… His first name was Slavoj, you knew that much. What was his last name? “Mr. Žižek! Are you ready for your interview?” Asked a mysterious voice. “Uhh, yeah, yeah! I’m ready,” you replied. There was a pause, as though the mysterious voice was momentarily perplexed. You started to walk out, and into a room with another man. “Your name please?” He asked as there was a recorder working. “Uhh, m-my name is Slavoj Žižek,” you replied. Curse your stuttering! You do this when you’re nervous, every goddamn time! “Mr. Žižek, are you okay?” You clear your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

The interview went on for another 30 minutes when you finally broke. “Look, my name isn’t Slovaj! It’s Jacob!” You yelled. Everyone looked shocked. You heard a deep laugh. “Alright, alright. I forgive you. Your panic was just what I needed. You can return home now,” said a familiar voice.

You awake in your room, covered in sweat. “Don’t worry, none of this was actually recorded in history.” That immortal said. You fall back on your bed, ready for the day to be over.

It was a regular winter in Chicago. I was walking with my mum and dad. Or rather, my stepmom. Looking back on it now today, It was too quick. The evening we spent went by too fast.

Now all I recall Are the constant fights. Everything was so blissful that evening. But even then there were our rocky moments I just never anticipated it would get this bad I’ve been to several mental hospitals. Now in my fourth in-patient.

All because of our fights. No, not our fights. Because of me.

Recently, a famous woman, who was known for space travel, has been able to send others out to a planet to find out if it’s habitable. This planet has no name yet. It is red with giant, not craters, but bumps sticking out. There is some gravity on this planet, enough to keep you standing there, but too little to limit you to just ground activity. There are microscopic organisms that live all over, moving at the speed of light. Literally. The astronauts are able to see them duplicating themselves and building themselves into another creature. Nothing has been fully developed yet, but the astronauts, know as the AotSC, Astronauts of the System Creator, can see the organisms developing into something larger. There isn’t any vegetation, nor any water, and nothing else to really sustain life, so it is unclear so far how the organisms can live. There is the possibility that these organisms get there energy from the light of the sun, but that would only be possible if there was a sun. The AotSC still have a fair amount of research to do that will be done over the span of some time.

My life was always drab, making me wonder if I’ll ever get to the point of enjoying it fully. It was always the same thing, the same exact routine. It gets boring at some point. I’m in high school now, almost done with my senior year to be exact. And it’s been non-stop talk about college. I don’t even know if I want a job that requires college. Because it will still be the same exact thing. Waking up, getting ready, going to school, getting home, studying, and going to sleep. Ugh, this is not what I wanted my life to be. I know my dream job as a retail manager requires me to go to college. But why?

Now that it’s the beginning of the next year, I’m going to my new college in Wisconsin. The only one that accepted me. I have some roommates as well. Most of them being lazy, with one other that actually cares about his future. “Hey, y’all want to watch the football game? Me and the other boys are going to.” Says Caro. “Yeah, sorry, no thanks.” Says Denon. “Tch, lame. What about you, Max?” It’s clear he’s talking to me. “Sorry, I want to get a A on this paper, unlike you and the others,” I jab, hoping he’ll walk away, maybe a little embarrassed. “Try-hards, Caro says. I roll my eyes.

College really was the moment I realized I wasn’t actually all that interested in retail. Now, that didn’t stop me from studying and trying to pass. But I still needed to find something else to do. I guess that was the wake-up call that I needed.

In high school, there were these six people who despised each other. No particular reason, except that they all made sure each other’s lives were a living hell. Why? This all started back in elementary school, when they were all playing together and one boy pushed a girl playfully. This was misinterpreted by another girl and she pushed that boy. It all escalated into one big fight after that. Now this is adulthood, everyone has their own separate jobs and live their own separate lives. They haven’t crossed paths since high school, 5 years ago. Then they all when to the same park with their kids at the same time. They were forced to be near each other when their kids met and wanted to play with each other. They started off talking while the parents annoyedly chewed their gum as they stood each other’s presence. “Momma! Can I hang out with Laialasa?” “Sure,” Mandela replied as she smugly looked at Denvonoso, who was one of the people out of the group she despised the most.

~Time skip: 3 months~

Mandela and Devonoso had managed to patch this relationship between them, now just being a mutual indifference toward each other. They wondered how the other four were holding up, Jolietta, Mora, Coro, Leranzo. Their kids also wanted to play with each other. Denvonoso had set up a time for them all to meet.

~The next day~

They were meeting at the same park and it seemed that everyone has accepted the others’ presences and no one really seems to care about each other. Still chewing their minty fresh or pink bubble gum that tastes like Pepto Bismol, they looked at each other, and Mandela could’ve sworn, she saw Jolietta smile at her for the first time in over two decades.

“Want to eat, Grandma?” Is what I said, so we ate dinner in blissful peace. I retold this story to my friends:

It was a beautiful, bright sunny day in school, and we were waiting for the first bell to ring. We loved to meet with each other in the courtyard and talk like regular 10th graders. I told them this story, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t funny, nor was it informative. It was persuasive in any way. But I had the urge to say it. But a common mistake I make is that I speak so quickly that it sounds like I’m not putting punctuation. I said: “So I said ‘Want to eat Grandma?’”. My friends told me I was crazy, but in a laughing manner. We all had our own problems going on. I cocked my head at them in confusion. “Oh, you’re serious,” said Nicoletta. “We’ll, why not?” Said Sashaletta. I continued my head cocking still going on.

The bell rang, interrupting any context I was about to include. That night, I was sleeping at my house, my grandma being there because she was the only family I had left. I don’t like to talk about it with anyone. I get ready for bed, already hearing the snores of my grandma. I finish brushing my teeth and start walking to the bed. I start to doze off until finally…

I awake the loud clicking sound, like someone was trying to break in. Or out. I turn on my lights and follow the sound, like I did when I would play Marco Polo with my friends. I’m led to my grandma’s room. I hear a crunching sound and I panic. What the hell? I turn in the lights quicker than the speed of light. I see blood all over the room, Grandma’s guts and blood spread all over the bed. But the most horrifying sight of them all, wasn’t the blood. Nor was it the guts. It was seeing Nicoletta, Caramella, and Sashaletta all gathered around my grandma. I always knew they had some mental health issues, let’s face it, we all do. But this? This may have been the worst mistake of my life.

Life without you Is like a life lost A life without meeting you Is not living a life at all

Life without you Is sad and depressing Life without you is losing the spice of life Life without you makes me want to cry

Life without you would be stress free Life with you would still be sad and depressing Life with you will hurt me As it will you

Maybe this is a sign that I need to work To make this relationship whole Because life without you Is a bad dream

Life without you Would make me tear free But life without you Would make me realize I’ve lost someone dear