In the Zone.....!

For the past week I've been in straight writing mode. Most of the time I get a good 2 or 3 hours in the morning at work before it gets busy to just write whatever. Sometimes its random stuff that's on my mind, or other times its strictly about my experiences at work. I also found some old stories (some true, and some I just made up) I wrote and decided to put them on here as well. I also changed names.....in some of them.

Enjoy =]


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She was 6 years old when they moved into that 3 story level suburban house. Dad wanted to move out west and mom thought it'd be for the best. Nothin but open land and peace and quiet, dirt roads with barely any houses yet. And when she turned 9 she had some friends to play with, ride their bikes all day in the summer time, meet up in that circle to play kickball and unwind. Catholic school girl from the beginning. Started noticin boys but they didn't pay her any mind. Brace face girl with the glasses to match it, sickly skinny with the insecurity to attach it.


........not finished......


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When I walked in through the apartment he wasn't there. He was the first person I'd look for upon entering a room, but I tried to not make it seem like I was.
"Jake's getting alcohol," Josh said looking towards me sitting on the couch. It was almost as if he knew I was looking for him.
"Oh," I said trying to act like I really didn't care. I was expected to go to a halloween party and I was wearing a cop uniform. It cut off like a belly shirt, almost like a tube top, and it had a really tiny black mini skirt to go with it. I looked like a complete slut, and I knew if I unbuttoned my jacket everyone would be in shock at the tag "Officer Naughty" on the right side of my shirt.
The door opened and in walked Jake with a case of bud-select. He didn't say hi or even so much as look at me. He grabbed a beer and clanked it together with Josh's saying, "Back to old times." I knew exactly what that meant and I thought I was going to be sick.
Thoughts of the night before came rushing through my head. The smell of his skin, and the beating of my heart pounding as I blatantly stated that I wanted to fuck him. It was blurry but I couldn't tell if I knew what I was doing or not. He was so attractive to me right then in that moment that something inside me just snapped.
I began to feel disgusted with myself, begging for him to not make me regret it as if he could somehow read my mind. I was still hung over, standing there wanting to crush him into a million tiny pieces. I knew from the very beginning that he was just a hard dick wanting to fuck anything that came his way.
How could I be so stupid? How did I just let that happen without letting myself think first? What was I turning into? He didn't like me and I knew that from the start, but I let myself believe that, like I would somehow have an excuse for my actions later.
The rest of the night he barely talked to me, or so much as glanced my way. He even had the balls to call up a bunch of chiks to come over. I wanted to cry and scream and throw things at him. The worst part of it all was I couldn't tell anyone. No one would look at me the same. It was Jake, the biggest man whore, the dirtiest guy ever, and I had had sex with him. I knew I didn't trust anyone enough anymore and I was ashamed of myself.



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As I was walking to my car from Joey's apartment I saw a guy come out from the building across, stumbling. His shirt was ripped open, brushing against a car he encountered with. He looked about my age, walking towards me, his head straight down to the ground. I got up the nerve to talk to him, thinking maybe he was going to try to drive home and I could stop him.
"Are you ok?" I asked, hesitantly.
"What?" he looked around, "Huh, yeah."
Fuck no you're not, I said to myself. He then explained what he came outside for; to first go to his car, and only after I told him that wasn't a good idea, he second, is going to lay in the grass. Man, this guy is a trip, I thought to myself. Here he was, dunk as fuck, trying to hide it. He said he wanted to lay in the grass because it's comfortable, looking at me crazy, like everyone does that shit or something.
Someone from behind yelled, "What are you doing? Your cars not even up there!"
I looked over my shoulder, placing my hip in an awkward position half in, and half out of my car. He had on your typical hollister attire, white t-shirt with ripped jeans, beige belt, and the bleach blond hair included.
"Who are you talking to?" hollister boy asked. He started to walk closer as I said,
"Hey, I just asked him if he was ok."
Then he did what every guy does when they meet an attractive girl. First there was the talk of all the alcohol they had,
"We got some whiskey, and rum....and some beer."
Next came the, "What are you doing tonight? You should come party." Ha! They were inviting me to a party. This made me feel really good at this point, but I still couldn't do it. They got mad because I said I had to work, and he said I was "ditching them." Who says that shit? Like we know each other or something...?
They kept giving me shit, saying, "She prolly just thinks were gunna rape her or something." I played along with their little game saying, "Oh no, not at all."
When it came down to it I said I'd come check it out and see whats up. Then he got uppity and said, "Oh well it's just me and him." He got nervous, felt like he had to impress me by saying he usually had parties all the time.
God, hollister boy sucks.
After a good 30 seconds of silence I declared I was going home. I was about to shut the door as he yelled for me again.
"Hey wait, whats your name?" hollister boy asked.
"It's Kate," I said blatantly, with a smile. They repeated my name to themselves and turned around.
"Hey wait, what's your guys names?" I asked quickly.
Hollister boy turned around quick,
"Blake."
Blake. What a shitty name for a face like that. He looked more like a Nick or Matt.
"Nick," said the drunk guy.
Oh, there's the Nick. Those names seemed opposite of each other.
"Oh, well....peace!" I said closing the door behind me. As I turned left out of the complex I could feel them watching me one last time. I realized I'd prolly never seem them again, so what the hell? I shrugged my shoulders, turned up the radio, and gave myself a grin.


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It's weird hanging out with old people you used to know. Matt Carney. I went to a party he was going to. Riley Sinclair. That's whose party it was. Crazy. Fuckin weird.
Carrie Sholin was there. I heard about how much of a slut she was, but I never really saw it to know for sure. She was all over this guy from the moment I walked in. She had on a tank, almost looking like a bra, and her jeans unbuttoned, showing her black thong.
I told her I'd met her before.
"At Drew's a long time ago," I said with a laugh.
"I don't remember your name, " she said in a drunken slur.
I began to explain who I dated for awhile and she instantly knew who I was. Hah! Yeah right...She was so drunk, I think she just went along with it. She started falling all over the place on this guy.
I felt bad for her, and I wanted to give her a chance, so I started talking to her. She told me some crazy story about how she got kicked out of a KMK concert. Again, I felt bad.
I tried to tell myself that maybe she was just misunderstood, like there's some reason why she acts the way she does and always wants some dick at all times.




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The radio woke me up, like it usually does on a typical Wednesday. It was that Pink song again. Every time I hear it, it reminds me of Teresa and Bryce, and it makes me feel a little sad. It was 8:46am. I rolled over to check before I got out of bed.
I'm so tired, I thought. "You gotta get up," one half of my brain would say. "Oh but I'm so tired, I was up too late," the other half would say. And I'd toss and turn, hearing these voices argue in my head. Eventually they would reach a compromise and say, "Ok, maybe I'll just sleep in till like oh....9:30, and not take a shower when I wake up."
It was a plan. 9:30 my mom comes in my room. I only say it's 9:30 because this is what my mom says after so rudely waking me up to tell me this, when its probably only 9:25, or a couple minutes ahead. She doesn't realize how valuable those few minutes are....ever.
"Yes," I said, after the second time she said my name. Of course I know what time it is. I woke up earlier, and reset it to sleep in longer. Here she was thinking how overpowering she was by asking if I knew what time it was, typical. This was typical mom behavior.
My mom wasn't always so paranoid. She was cautious as a mom should be, but I've never seen it like this. She's constantly this person who reminds me of everything you could imagine. There's the "Did you remember this...." "I just wanted to make sure...." and, "Don't forget this..." statements I hear everyday.
9:30, my radio is blasting and I am shaken awake by the loud noise. I had went to bed hot, and suddenly I was freezing, and my covers felt so warm. I was just in that one spot I'd been sleeping in. I had found this to be my normal spot in the middle of my queen mattress. I even formed my own little crack where my feathered mattress cover split apart slowly over time. I liked that crack, I was free to stretch my legs over both sides and open my arms wide.
"This time you really have to get up, it's 9:30," my inner voice would say. And still they would argue, like my other half wanted to overcome so badly.
"I don't even want to go, maybe I can skip, it's ok to skip sometimes, right?" it said.
"No," the other voice would strike back.
"You can't, it's only the second day."

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Sometimes I feel as though my head might explode at the next thing that reminds me of the past. Some days are better than others, some days nothing can bring me down and I feel like I'm on top of the world, but all it takes is one thing, one picture, one song, one memory, and it doesn't hurt right away, but it builds up. It's a million little things put together and when it reaches its max I feel like I can't breathe. It feels like I can't escape it. I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to be associated with my past, the things that happened with the people I don't even know anymore....

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Another 30 minutes to go and I'm still thinking about the most random things ever. I always do in church for some reason. It's like I'd rather over analize my life and bring back old, wounded memories than listen to Fr. Frank try to tell me what "God wants us to do."
When I look around every few minutes or so I see the same people, just like me, not knowing why they're really here, just here to prove they still believe in something. There's a lady a row across from me, to the left, half sleeping. She had dark brown hair and glasses, the ones with the small frames. Her head would fall up and down, up and down. And there she goes, head down, asleep. I would fall asleep too if I didn't find it rude, and this is, if my parents didn't yell at me for it.
Then I would turn to my right and see the usual old people fully into it, trying to listen as well as their ears would let them. I guess I found that when you get older you have a need to be closer to God, because you're scared of death or something? There was a small older woman with white hair, and a hunched over back holding her husbands hand throughout the whole mass. It was so cute, but at the same time it was as if they thought they'd suddenly keel over right there and wanted to go to heaven together.
"May God Bless you," Fr. Frank ended with, realizing I hadn't heard a word he said.

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It had always been my house, the street I lived on, and the place I grew up in. They would say it was once a zoo full of children my age, running around in a summer full of freedom, laughing and screaming as the water hose got us. And as I got older they would say it was nothing but a party house where people came and went as they pleased, leaving jokes behind.
It was never a home, just a place to sleep and eat as I saw fit. They always say home is where the heart is, and my heart was all over the place. It was tossed and passed along through the years to mindless immatures males, doing with it as they pleased. If home was where the heart was, I've got a lot of homes I've only rented.

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Still trying to write more often, just get writers block a lot sometimes.
Thanks for reading.

<3