Maegan and Creative Writing

A butterfly flaps its wings

A storm occurs halfway around the world

The chaos theory

He curled up in a corner, a shadowed cool corner, protected from the light. His father had locked him in the basement for so long that the first time he escaped, the light burned his eyes when in its presence. Michael had longes to escape from his cold, damp prison for so long that his yearning had overtaken him and he atttacked his father as he was served his weekly meal. His pale, bony body shivered in the corner. He retreated form the light like a vampire, a creature of the night. His father lay, sprawled out on the basement stairs, breathing but motionless. Where the metal tray had struck him, was now beginning to form a bruise, swelled and purple. As Michael slowly looked up at the window, the light reflected his pale blue eyes; the darkness had for so long brightened his eyes to succumb to the dark. But now, Michael faced the bright day, blinded but he faced it. He slowly stood up, his weak knees wobbling. His ribs protruded from his sides and his cheek bones produced shadows over his face, fit for a skeleton. His ravenous hunger urged him to move in on the kitchen. As he passed the basement door, his father stirred, reaching for his wound just above his left eye…

TO BE CONTINUED

The boy had jumped into a tornado, a funny way to commit suicide, but he did it. He was distraught over his break up with Molly, the love of his life. She accused him of cheating even though he didn’t. She yelled and screamed, “GO AWAY! I don’t want to  see your face again!” He probably cried for days, unusual for a boy. The tornado sirens went off and despite his mother’s yelling to come back, her son walked to the empty, wheat field and ran, jumping into the dark, clouded air until WHOOSH! The twister picked him up, taking him, throwing him to far off distant lands for him to suck in his last breath, alone. His ghost haunts the wood where he gave his heart to Molly. Where he wanders, the trees die, just as his heart died and the air mists, just as his conscience did. Sometimes at night you can see his ghostly apparition floating around. His tears are like acid rain, depriving the life from the grass and flowers that once grew there. It is said that he cares not for other life for his life was taken; not by a tornado but by a girl and her peircing mad eyes.

Rain
is God crying
It soaks the earth to bring abundance and beauty
It falls like tears form heaven
It mists all over the world
And it cares for the flowers and dries up with the sun.

Yes, that’s me
Look and you’ll see
My hair aglow
My eyes a twinkling
My arms waving
My hands fingerspelling
My heart a thumping
I’m lovable
I never can hate someone for too long
My friends are crazy
I live as best as i can
I hope for my life to be filled with happiness
I dream of my graces
It’s all clear as can be.
That’s positively, absolutely me

I am a star
White as a heavenly light
I twinkle
I shine
I can grow and shrink
I can guide the lost
I am a star

Im really bored

 so here i sit

doing nothing

 but typing random phrases

so yea

i guess i’ll go now

bye

Spectrum of sound

Specturm of light

Spectrum of color

Spectrum of night

Spectrum of things

That we all need

Spectrum of flowers

But we all hate weeds.

I believe in miracles. I’ve seen and heard my fair share.

 My mom, when she was a teen, was a druggie and she was going down the wrong path in life. Her mom was dying of heart disease and my mom was becoming suicidal. So she began to pray for a friend, a dog to keep her from killing herself. She prayed night after night for a white female German shepherd. A couple of weeks of prayers passed when my mom was told that her friend’s dog had given birth. Of that litter there were seven pups; six boys and one, white, female German shepherd. My favorite part of this miracle was that my mom was into sign language and her new dog had a deformity on her paw; some of her toes were missing but the toes that were left showed the sign for “I love you” in sign language. I guess you could say that it was a message from God in His own special way. This is why I believe in miracles.

My Grand (Mom’s mom) as I said before, was dying from heart disease, not to mention she was married to an abusive husband. My Grand died about six or seven times from heart failure, one caused form being beaten to a pulp. She lives to this day, quite healthy. This is why I believe in miracles.

My other grandma (Dad’s mom) has had cancer so many times that I’ve lost count. Her most recent tumors were in her lungs, the biggest being seven inches in diameter with four other little ones. I prayed for God to heal her and a couple days later I heard that her tumors were gone and the doctors had no idea how. This is why I believe in miracles.

Even the small ones I can recount. My favorite was when I used to play the game YAHTZEE all the time when I was little, and I would pray for a yahtzee, which was the highest amount of points you could get. So, I would pray… and I would get six in a row, every time I played. This is why I believe in miracles.

So, I’d like to see some scientists disprove these miracles with their fancy equipment. Booyah, how do ya’ll like dem apples?!! This is why I believe in miracles.