“You’re late…again” she said, leaning back on her chair sipping her latte in a to-go cup. Lying on the table was a bunch of coupons for the café.
“Sorry babe, I was at an audition across town, there were so much traffic getting here. It won’t happen I again, I promise.” he said carelessly as he sucked in his belly to lift his pants and tuck in his t-shirt peeking out from under his leather vest, after wiping sweat off under his bandana tied across his forehead.
“What they say? You think you will definitely get in this time? We really need to find a way to pay our rent, you know?” she retorted in a sarcastic manner, furrowing her heavily penciled in brows together.
Not even looking at her, he replied confidently. “Yahhh, I will definitely get in this time, trust me babe. It’s just the other companies doesn’t have taste. They will for sure regret not picking me over some twiggy kids that wants to be the next Justin Bieber.” Rolling his eyes and crossed his legs, tapping his feet like he’s impatient for this conversation to end or something.
“That’s what you say every time, why don’t you use that useless confidence and get another job or something. A practical one that is.”
“Why don’t YOU get a job? It’s 21st century, women work you know?”
She picked up her latte cup and swigged down rest of the drink. He face red like the lipstick on the cup rims, she crumpled the cup into a paper ball squeezed it until her knuckles turned white and threw it hard into the trashcan next to her.
She muttered under her breath. “I DO work, I just didn’t tell you cause I was at least considerate of your feelings”
Not hearing what she muttered, he smoothed his hair back with his spit and added “It’s only temporary, by the end of the day they will definitely call me back and sign me. Then we will be living the goooood life.”
“You know, the deli we always go to is hiring.” She said looking at him intently.
“Yahhh, think about it babe. By tomorrow I will be famous and the deli would be so happy they served a famous person”
“I said the deli is HIRING”
“And what do you want ME to do?” he said looking irritated.
“Maybe you know, you could work there just in case you don’t get signed again.”
“That is for losers, they will definitely sign me”
She got up “Yah, call me when you do. But now I’m going on date with a working man”
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Stalker character profile sheet.
Trista Wu
10.19.10
Character Profile Worksheet
Basic Statistics
Name: Billy Jean
Age: 33
Nationality: White or Hispanic
Socioeconomic Level as a child: Middle class
Socioeconomic Level as an adult: Low class on government aid
Hometown: Not NYC
Current Residence: In NYC
Occupation: Jobless?
Income: Low
Talents/Skills: He was in a band that broke up after a month, he was the lead singer that got kicked off.
Salary: $0
Birth order:
Siblings (describe relationship): Younger Brother, lost contact after he won’t give up auditioning to talent agencies
Spouse (describe relationship): None
Children (describe relationship): None
Grandparents (describe relationship): They passed away
Grandchildren (describe relationship): None
Significant Others (describe relationship): A white/Hispanic women that is same age as him
Relationship skills: He likes going to parties to show off his girlfriend and to get wasted.
Physical Characteristics:
Height: pretty tall around 5’7+
Weight: 200+
Race: White
Eye Color: Dirt brown
Hair Color: Highlighted blond.
Glasses or contact lenses? None
Skin color: Uneven tan lines, farmers’ tan.
Shape of Face: Round, with triple chin.
Distinguishing features: Not much, just his mullet.
How does he/she dress? Like in the past, still stuck in the 70’s with his fashion.
Mannerisms: Not very considerate of others, more centered towards what he feels.
Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.) Heavy drinker but with low alcohol tolerance.
Health: Overweight, almost obese.
Hobbies: Going to pubs.
Favorite Sayings: I’m going to get signed.
Speech patterns: Not much different sober or drunk, likes slurring words together.
Disabilities: None
Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): old shabby style, torn jeans etc.
Greatest flaw: bad drunk
Best quality: Don’t have any/
Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes
Educational Background: high school graduate, dropped out of community college.
Intelligence Level: Not important to him, so that part of his brain is not developed.
Any Mental Illnesses? None.
Learning Experiences: None.
Character's short-term goals in life: To get signed by a talent agency.
Character's long-term goals in life: Be more known and loved than Justin Bieber.
How does Character see himself/herself? A person that is too cool for others to comprehend.
How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others? Really awesome that everyone wants to be like him.
How self-confident is the character? He has high self confidence
Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? He ruled by his emotion of thinking that everyone likes him, and driven by the need to get famous.
What would most embarass this character? Someone making fun of his mullet.
Emotional Characteristics
Strengths/Weaknesses: High self confidence, his mullet.
Introvert or Extrovert? extroverted
How does the character deal with anger? By drinking
With sadness? He just shuts himself in the bathroom
With conflict? He avoids the topic and pretends that he didn’t hear
With change? He’s okay with it
With loss? Cries in the bathroom.
What does the character want out of life? Getting famous
What would the character like to change in his/her life? To be a rock star
What motivates this character? Being famous and well known by other people
What frightens this character? Being insignificant
What makes this character happy? Getting drunk, going to parties, having girls, concerts
Is the character judgmental of others? He thinks everyone is less cool than him.
Is the character generous or stingy? Generous but he doesn’t have much to give besides his signature
Is the character generally polite or rude? Stuck up and rude.
Spiritual Characteristics
Does the character believe in God? No
What are the character's spiritual beliefs? Nothing
Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life? No
If so, what role does it play?
What does this character want?? Need? Wish? Hope?
I don’t really know what the character want, but because he dresses like he was in the 60-70’s and rock star style, he probably wants to be famous or he’s just really into the fashion and music during that time. When I was watching him on the train he was standing up with his girlfriend leaning against the door and a pole with his girlfriend cornering him. He kept on wanting to get off the train and saying that he has to go home, but his girlfriend is saying that it’s not his stop. He was kind of drunk enough to have no common sense, by the way his girlfriend and him looks, it doesn’t seem like they are very high class.
10.19.10
Character Profile Worksheet
Basic Statistics
Name: Billy Jean
Age: 33
Nationality: White or Hispanic
Socioeconomic Level as a child: Middle class
Socioeconomic Level as an adult: Low class on government aid
Hometown: Not NYC
Current Residence: In NYC
Occupation: Jobless?
Income: Low
Talents/Skills: He was in a band that broke up after a month, he was the lead singer that got kicked off.
Salary: $0
Birth order:
Siblings (describe relationship): Younger Brother, lost contact after he won’t give up auditioning to talent agencies
Spouse (describe relationship): None
Children (describe relationship): None
Grandparents (describe relationship): They passed away
Grandchildren (describe relationship): None
Significant Others (describe relationship): A white/Hispanic women that is same age as him
Relationship skills: He likes going to parties to show off his girlfriend and to get wasted.
Physical Characteristics:
Height: pretty tall around 5’7+
Weight: 200+
Race: White
Eye Color: Dirt brown
Hair Color: Highlighted blond.
Glasses or contact lenses? None
Skin color: Uneven tan lines, farmers’ tan.
Shape of Face: Round, with triple chin.
Distinguishing features: Not much, just his mullet.
How does he/she dress? Like in the past, still stuck in the 70’s with his fashion.
Mannerisms: Not very considerate of others, more centered towards what he feels.
Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.) Heavy drinker but with low alcohol tolerance.
Health: Overweight, almost obese.
Hobbies: Going to pubs.
Favorite Sayings: I’m going to get signed.
Speech patterns: Not much different sober or drunk, likes slurring words together.
Disabilities: None
Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): old shabby style, torn jeans etc.
Greatest flaw: bad drunk
Best quality: Don’t have any/
Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes
Educational Background: high school graduate, dropped out of community college.
Intelligence Level: Not important to him, so that part of his brain is not developed.
Any Mental Illnesses? None.
Learning Experiences: None.
Character's short-term goals in life: To get signed by a talent agency.
Character's long-term goals in life: Be more known and loved than Justin Bieber.
How does Character see himself/herself? A person that is too cool for others to comprehend.
How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others? Really awesome that everyone wants to be like him.
How self-confident is the character? He has high self confidence
Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? He ruled by his emotion of thinking that everyone likes him, and driven by the need to get famous.
What would most embarass this character? Someone making fun of his mullet.
Emotional Characteristics
Strengths/Weaknesses: High self confidence, his mullet.
Introvert or Extrovert? extroverted
How does the character deal with anger? By drinking
With sadness? He just shuts himself in the bathroom
With conflict? He avoids the topic and pretends that he didn’t hear
With change? He’s okay with it
With loss? Cries in the bathroom.
What does the character want out of life? Getting famous
What would the character like to change in his/her life? To be a rock star
What motivates this character? Being famous and well known by other people
What frightens this character? Being insignificant
What makes this character happy? Getting drunk, going to parties, having girls, concerts
Is the character judgmental of others? He thinks everyone is less cool than him.
Is the character generous or stingy? Generous but he doesn’t have much to give besides his signature
Is the character generally polite or rude? Stuck up and rude.
Spiritual Characteristics
Does the character believe in God? No
What are the character's spiritual beliefs? Nothing
Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life? No
If so, what role does it play?
What does this character want?? Need? Wish? Hope?
I don’t really know what the character want, but because he dresses like he was in the 60-70’s and rock star style, he probably wants to be famous or he’s just really into the fashion and music during that time. When I was watching him on the train he was standing up with his girlfriend leaning against the door and a pole with his girlfriend cornering him. He kept on wanting to get off the train and saying that he has to go home, but his girlfriend is saying that it’s not his stop. He was kind of drunk enough to have no common sense, by the way his girlfriend and him looks, it doesn’t seem like they are very high class.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Number 6
6 Word Memoir: You wanted to see me fall...
6 Word Fiction: Medically induced coma saved his life.
6 Sentence Fiction: The love I borrowed. Every glance at you I stole, now fade. The laughs we shared are just now echoes. Inside jokes we laughed to became the past. Now don’t go taking the memories away from me, because those are my source of confidence. What would I be without the past?
6 Word Fiction: Medically induced coma saved his life.
6 Sentence Fiction: The love I borrowed. Every glance at you I stole, now fade. The laughs we shared are just now echoes. Inside jokes we laughed to became the past. Now don’t go taking the memories away from me, because those are my source of confidence. What would I be without the past?
Sunday, October 10, 2010
What's Left of It. (Final)
I finally had enough of this life, after living 5 years with my boyfriend, Fred. The romantic and peaceful life that I longed for from before is certainly not coming back, he’s now addicted to all-night partying and drinking with his college buddies. Tonight he came home, staggering from the front door to the bathroom. He sat on the floor next to the toilet, spewing his contents out of his mouth all over the white bathroom floor and the toilet seat, as he missed the toilet bowl, then passed out with his red haired head laying on the toilet seat. Looking at his pale lips, I see saliva dangling off the side; his pale face that used to be so full of expression depressed me.
What happened to the guy that used to cook me dinner before my big final exam in college, and buy me flowers because he was so sure that I would ace it? Looking at him sleeping in the bathroom, is this the queue for me to start over and find back the life that was mine? Instead of lingering on the memories of my past and ignoring what’s happened to it? I went back to the living room, staring at my diner for two that’s now cold. I stormed to my room and packed my bag, I did not even look back once as I went out the front door and hailed the nearest cab. The driver asked me a question that I wasn’t even sure of how to answer, where are you going? My best friend Lisa’s face popped into my head, her smile so radiant it cheered me up. The question was answered then and there.
As I arrived at her house, I rang the doorbell that sent an annoyingly loud and cheerful melody through out the house. After much silence, the door cracked open with her beaming down on me. Suddenly a wave of emotion over came me and I embraced her and cried like I’ve never cried before. The girl who know me better than I know myself led me to her room, where I spent the night spilling my heart out and ruining any chance of me having normal, not puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning. That night I fell, into an uneasy slumber with my mind left wonder, bring out all the memories that I had with Fred. The picnic last spring with cherry blossoms falling from above as the wind rattled the tree that Fred and I sat under, surrounded by lush grass, he serenaded me with love songs and poems that would even make birds sing along. But that was before, now we are in two different worlds of despair, him alone with hangovers and mine alone crying over him.
Suddenly in the darkness were a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes staring at me blankly, above those sat a bush of blood red tangled bunch of hair. Clearly it was Fred, but why was he in my room? How did he even get in here? Is he going to apologize and say that he will change for the better? Instead he just stood there, staring at me with dull glassy bloodshot eyes, in a flash. He reached out to me and grabbed a fist full of my hair, and dragged me off the bed and pinned me to the wooden floor. I don’t feel pain, instead looking up to him; I see fury in his eyes and his eyebrows knitted together in the middle.
I’m struggling against him, kicking, flailing, and trying to scream for help. Yet nothing is coming out of my open mouth, like a fish out of water. Why can’t I scream? Why don’t I have any energy to push him off of me? What is he trying to do? I twisted around under him, trying to crawl out. Then I feel Fred’s hands grasp around my neck, slowly his grip is getting tighter and tighter, as I tried to free myself I twisted around again. All of the sudden, all the air rushed out of my lungs as I gasped. I thought to myself, he’s really trying to kill me! As I struggle to free myself, it feels as if my eyes were bulging out of their sockets. My head is thumping with my heart; it feels like an overinflated balloon, ready to burst any minute. Slowly before me, I see Fred’s pile of red hair starting to fade to grey and black, like the static on a broken TV screen, but this time it’s me that’s breaking. I don’t want to die! I still have a life to live, I still have to get married to a sober man who loves me and have kids that I will love. I’m starting to lose feeling in my legs; it feels as if death is crawling feet first up to my body. Is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Is this what I get for leaving him?
I reached out my hands, trying to claw for his face in a last attempt to free myself, but I just can’t seem to reach him. Why is he so far away? As the grip around my neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric. It feels like the room is a Tea Cup ride in the carnival, it goes around and around until everything becomes nothing. There’s no more hope, the song The End by The Doors starts to play in my head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.
Ding-dong! The annoyingly loud doorbell rang out; it jerked me back to my senses. As I opened my eyes, the sun in the room is shining; cool soothing air refills my lungs. Breathing in and out, I looked around my room. Where’s Fred? What just happened? I sat up, looking down I see my bed sheets curled around my neck tightly. I ripped it away from my neck and threw it on the ground, next to the pillow laying there discarded. My usual morning drowsiness doesn’t set in; instead I’m wide-awake with adrenaline pumping through my veins. My heart raced as I survey the surroundings, I got up slowly from the bed. My water cup on the bed stand next to me lay toppled over, water flowing across the desk in a stream that turns into a waterfall off my desk into a pool on the floor. The sun is shining through my curtains that are floating as the breeze push up against it. I stood there startled as my realization that it wasn’t Fred choking me; it was the bed sheet that was wrapped around my neck.
Ding-dong, I walked slowly to the door and peeked through the peephole. The view was blocked by flowers that was pushed up against it, slowly opening the door, I realize standing outside was a person with clean-shaven face, and twinkling eyes that I haven’t seen for a while. It was the Fred from my past memory, before the hardcore partying and drinking that took the young and clean look away from him. He started off my saying: “I went to rehab this morning…”. The rest is history.
What happened to the guy that used to cook me dinner before my big final exam in college, and buy me flowers because he was so sure that I would ace it? Looking at him sleeping in the bathroom, is this the queue for me to start over and find back the life that was mine? Instead of lingering on the memories of my past and ignoring what’s happened to it? I went back to the living room, staring at my diner for two that’s now cold. I stormed to my room and packed my bag, I did not even look back once as I went out the front door and hailed the nearest cab. The driver asked me a question that I wasn’t even sure of how to answer, where are you going? My best friend Lisa’s face popped into my head, her smile so radiant it cheered me up. The question was answered then and there.
As I arrived at her house, I rang the doorbell that sent an annoyingly loud and cheerful melody through out the house. After much silence, the door cracked open with her beaming down on me. Suddenly a wave of emotion over came me and I embraced her and cried like I’ve never cried before. The girl who know me better than I know myself led me to her room, where I spent the night spilling my heart out and ruining any chance of me having normal, not puffy and bloodshot eyes the next morning. That night I fell, into an uneasy slumber with my mind left wonder, bring out all the memories that I had with Fred. The picnic last spring with cherry blossoms falling from above as the wind rattled the tree that Fred and I sat under, surrounded by lush grass, he serenaded me with love songs and poems that would even make birds sing along. But that was before, now we are in two different worlds of despair, him alone with hangovers and mine alone crying over him.
Suddenly in the darkness were a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes staring at me blankly, above those sat a bush of blood red tangled bunch of hair. Clearly it was Fred, but why was he in my room? How did he even get in here? Is he going to apologize and say that he will change for the better? Instead he just stood there, staring at me with dull glassy bloodshot eyes, in a flash. He reached out to me and grabbed a fist full of my hair, and dragged me off the bed and pinned me to the wooden floor. I don’t feel pain, instead looking up to him; I see fury in his eyes and his eyebrows knitted together in the middle.
I’m struggling against him, kicking, flailing, and trying to scream for help. Yet nothing is coming out of my open mouth, like a fish out of water. Why can’t I scream? Why don’t I have any energy to push him off of me? What is he trying to do? I twisted around under him, trying to crawl out. Then I feel Fred’s hands grasp around my neck, slowly his grip is getting tighter and tighter, as I tried to free myself I twisted around again. All of the sudden, all the air rushed out of my lungs as I gasped. I thought to myself, he’s really trying to kill me! As I struggle to free myself, it feels as if my eyes were bulging out of their sockets. My head is thumping with my heart; it feels like an overinflated balloon, ready to burst any minute. Slowly before me, I see Fred’s pile of red hair starting to fade to grey and black, like the static on a broken TV screen, but this time it’s me that’s breaking. I don’t want to die! I still have a life to live, I still have to get married to a sober man who loves me and have kids that I will love. I’m starting to lose feeling in my legs; it feels as if death is crawling feet first up to my body. Is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Is this what I get for leaving him?
I reached out my hands, trying to claw for his face in a last attempt to free myself, but I just can’t seem to reach him. Why is he so far away? As the grip around my neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric. It feels like the room is a Tea Cup ride in the carnival, it goes around and around until everything becomes nothing. There’s no more hope, the song The End by The Doors starts to play in my head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.
Ding-dong! The annoyingly loud doorbell rang out; it jerked me back to my senses. As I opened my eyes, the sun in the room is shining; cool soothing air refills my lungs. Breathing in and out, I looked around my room. Where’s Fred? What just happened? I sat up, looking down I see my bed sheets curled around my neck tightly. I ripped it away from my neck and threw it on the ground, next to the pillow laying there discarded. My usual morning drowsiness doesn’t set in; instead I’m wide-awake with adrenaline pumping through my veins. My heart raced as I survey the surroundings, I got up slowly from the bed. My water cup on the bed stand next to me lay toppled over, water flowing across the desk in a stream that turns into a waterfall off my desk into a pool on the floor. The sun is shining through my curtains that are floating as the breeze push up against it. I stood there startled as my realization that it wasn’t Fred choking me; it was the bed sheet that was wrapped around my neck.
Ding-dong, I walked slowly to the door and peeked through the peephole. The view was blocked by flowers that was pushed up against it, slowly opening the door, I realize standing outside was a person with clean-shaven face, and twinkling eyes that I haven’t seen for a while. It was the Fred from my past memory, before the hardcore partying and drinking that took the young and clean look away from him. He started off my saying: “I went to rehab this morning…”. The rest is history.
Medias Res
Day and night, the hobo always guards the 2nd bench in the 23rd street subway station with his hammer and donkey by his side. It’s scaring off the straphangers that use this station to go to places, in order to eliminate this problem Jeff the social worker is assigned to this case. Jeff visits him every morning at 7:45 sharp on his way to his office, however he’s used be sitting in his chair at the office at 7:53 sharp everyday, Monday to Friday. However, visiting this hobo upsets his whole daily routine set since 3 years ago, Jeff wishes that the hobo would just move into the homeless shelter already. He has to keep visiting the hobo until he convinced him to leave the station and live in the shelter, but no matter how much convincing Jeff does the hobo does not budge an inch.
2nd draft
Jenna finally had enough of this life, living with Fred, my boyfriend of 5 years. The peaceful and romantic life with him, is not quite the same after he got addicted to all-night partying and drinking with his college buddies. He, who used to make dinner before I got home, buy flowers for me when I aces my test, is now every night staggering from the front door to the bathroom. Spewing his contents out of his mouth, all over the floor and seat cover after missing the toilet bowl, and passing out on the bathroom floor with saliva dangling off the side of his pale lips and white face, deeply contrasted against his blood red hair.
Is this the queue for me to start over, and find back the life that was mine? Instead of lingering on to the memories of the past and ignoring what’s happening right now?
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
After another night alone, with dinner for two left cold on the table. I finally decided pack my bags. As I left out the door, I did not even looking back once as I got on a cab to Lisa’s house, she’s my best friend and my roommate from 5 years ago. Arriving outside of her door, I ranged the doorbell that played the annoyingly cheerful ring tone throughout the whole house. The door cracked open and a face poked out that brought back so much memories. Beaming down on me, I embraced her with hug that seemed to bring out all my locked up sadness, it overwhelmed me and left her crying in Lisa’s arms like a baby. As she wept and spilled her heart out to Lisa, her sadness that used to overwhelm becomes less painful as Lisa’s soothing words made her feel better little by little.
She fell into an uneasy slumber, as the night went on her mind wondered. Replaying all the happy times that she had with Fred, the picnic last spring on her birthday, cherry blossoms falling from above as the wind rattled the tree they sat under, with food and birthday presents. But that was before, now he’s in the world of partying and drinking, and she’s in the world of despair and sadness. Whose fault was it that he became like this? Certainly not hers.
Suddenly in the darkness were a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes staring, above it sat the bush of deep red colored hair, clearly it was Fred that was in her room. Did he come to ask her to go back, is he going to apologize and say he’s going to change? Instead he just stood there, staring at her with dull glassy eyes, suddenly he charged at her, his hand grasped handful of her hair, dragging her down to the cold wooden floor. Fred is now pinning her down by her hands; she’s struggling against him. Kicking, flailing, trying to scream for help, yet nothing came out of her open gasping mouth. Why couldn’t she scream? Why can’t she seem to gather enough energy to push him off of her? What is Fred trying to do?
Jenna twisted around, trying to crawl out under Fred. Then something wrapped around her neck, looking for the source Jenna sees Fred’s hands around her neck. Slowly his grip is getting tighter and tighter, trying to free herself, she twisted around again, this time facing Fred. She sees the fury in his eyes, the anger in his knitted brows, her breath rushes out, this time the grip got so tight her eyes felt like its bulging out of their sockets. She’s trying to free herself and breathe, but her airway feels collapsed. Jenna is now losing feeling in her legs; it feels as if ‘death’ is crawling up her feet. It’s getting numb now, is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Is this what she get for leaving him? Why is he trying to kill her?
Slowly before her, Fred’s short pile of blood red curly hair began to fade to grey and black like the static on a broken TV screen, but this time it’s her that’s breaking. She doesn’t want to die, she still wanted to get married to a sober husband, have kids that she will love. Panic starts to set in as she struggled; cold sweat is seeping out of her hairline, rolling over her smooth baby skin forehead, sliding down her nose. Blood rushing to her head, it’s starting to feel like an overinflated balloon, the tension just before it’s about to pop. Her hands outreached clawing for his face to get him to release her, but are her arms too short? She can’t seem to get her hands on him, he feels so far away. As the grip around her neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric; it feels as if the room is like a Tea cup ride in the carnival, it goes round and round until everything becomes nothing. Slowly it feels like it’s starting to end, the song The End by The Doors starts playing in her head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.
Ding dong! The annoyingly loud doorbell rang out, panting she opened her puffy eyes, jerked back to reality. Cool soothing air refills her lungs, breathing in and out. What happened? She asked herself, looking around. The sun is now shining through the curtains that’s floating as the breeze pushed up against it through the open window. Feeling something around her neck, she looks down and rips the bed sheet that‘s twisted and wrapped around her neck away and throw it to the ground. her usual morning doughtiness doesn’t set in, but instead she’s wide-awake adrenaline pumping through her veins. Jenna surveys the surroundings as she got up slowly to her feet from the bed, what just happened? Where’s Fred, wasn’t he just trying to choke me? My room is really bright; my pillow lay on the floor, away from me. My water cup on my bed stand lay toppled over, water still flowing across my wooden desk in a stream to the edge dripping on to the floor.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang that sent an annoyingly loud melody through Lisa’s apartment. I crept out of my room and went to the door, looking through the peephole, stands a person that looks like Fred from my past memory. With twinkling eyes and clean-shaven cut that I haven’t seen for a while.
Is this the queue for me to start over, and find back the life that was mine? Instead of lingering on to the memories of the past and ignoring what’s happening right now?
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
After another night alone, with dinner for two left cold on the table. I finally decided pack my bags. As I left out the door, I did not even looking back once as I got on a cab to Lisa’s house, she’s my best friend and my roommate from 5 years ago. Arriving outside of her door, I ranged the doorbell that played the annoyingly cheerful ring tone throughout the whole house. The door cracked open and a face poked out that brought back so much memories. Beaming down on me, I embraced her with hug that seemed to bring out all my locked up sadness, it overwhelmed me and left her crying in Lisa’s arms like a baby. As she wept and spilled her heart out to Lisa, her sadness that used to overwhelm becomes less painful as Lisa’s soothing words made her feel better little by little.
She fell into an uneasy slumber, as the night went on her mind wondered. Replaying all the happy times that she had with Fred, the picnic last spring on her birthday, cherry blossoms falling from above as the wind rattled the tree they sat under, with food and birthday presents. But that was before, now he’s in the world of partying and drinking, and she’s in the world of despair and sadness. Whose fault was it that he became like this? Certainly not hers.
Suddenly in the darkness were a pair of bloodshot hazel eyes staring, above it sat the bush of deep red colored hair, clearly it was Fred that was in her room. Did he come to ask her to go back, is he going to apologize and say he’s going to change? Instead he just stood there, staring at her with dull glassy eyes, suddenly he charged at her, his hand grasped handful of her hair, dragging her down to the cold wooden floor. Fred is now pinning her down by her hands; she’s struggling against him. Kicking, flailing, trying to scream for help, yet nothing came out of her open gasping mouth. Why couldn’t she scream? Why can’t she seem to gather enough energy to push him off of her? What is Fred trying to do?
Jenna twisted around, trying to crawl out under Fred. Then something wrapped around her neck, looking for the source Jenna sees Fred’s hands around her neck. Slowly his grip is getting tighter and tighter, trying to free herself, she twisted around again, this time facing Fred. She sees the fury in his eyes, the anger in his knitted brows, her breath rushes out, this time the grip got so tight her eyes felt like its bulging out of their sockets. She’s trying to free herself and breathe, but her airway feels collapsed. Jenna is now losing feeling in her legs; it feels as if ‘death’ is crawling up her feet. It’s getting numb now, is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Is this what she get for leaving him? Why is he trying to kill her?
Slowly before her, Fred’s short pile of blood red curly hair began to fade to grey and black like the static on a broken TV screen, but this time it’s her that’s breaking. She doesn’t want to die, she still wanted to get married to a sober husband, have kids that she will love. Panic starts to set in as she struggled; cold sweat is seeping out of her hairline, rolling over her smooth baby skin forehead, sliding down her nose. Blood rushing to her head, it’s starting to feel like an overinflated balloon, the tension just before it’s about to pop. Her hands outreached clawing for his face to get him to release her, but are her arms too short? She can’t seem to get her hands on him, he feels so far away. As the grip around her neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric; it feels as if the room is like a Tea cup ride in the carnival, it goes round and round until everything becomes nothing. Slowly it feels like it’s starting to end, the song The End by The Doors starts playing in her head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.
Ding dong! The annoyingly loud doorbell rang out, panting she opened her puffy eyes, jerked back to reality. Cool soothing air refills her lungs, breathing in and out. What happened? She asked herself, looking around. The sun is now shining through the curtains that’s floating as the breeze pushed up against it through the open window. Feeling something around her neck, she looks down and rips the bed sheet that‘s twisted and wrapped around her neck away and throw it to the ground. her usual morning doughtiness doesn’t set in, but instead she’s wide-awake adrenaline pumping through her veins. Jenna surveys the surroundings as she got up slowly to her feet from the bed, what just happened? Where’s Fred, wasn’t he just trying to choke me? My room is really bright; my pillow lay on the floor, away from me. My water cup on my bed stand lay toppled over, water still flowing across my wooden desk in a stream to the edge dripping on to the floor.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang that sent an annoyingly loud melody through Lisa’s apartment. I crept out of my room and went to the door, looking through the peephole, stands a person that looks like Fred from my past memory. With twinkling eyes and clean-shaven cut that I haven’t seen for a while.
Draft 1
Labored breathing trying to get the breath of life, but the airway is squeezed shut by an iron hand. It felt as if death is crawling up her feet then to her legs, it’s getting numb now, is this what it feels like to be paralyzed? Slowly before her his red curly hair start to fade to grey and black, like the static in a broken TV but this time it’s her that’s breaking. As the grip around her neck gets tighter, it’s almost euphoric; it feels as if room is like a Tea Cup ride in the carnival, it goes round and round until everything becomes nothing. Slowly it’s starting to end, the song The End by The Doors starts playing in her head. The end, beautiful friend, this is the end, my only friend the end.
Okay, am I scaring you? Lets rewind, go back to when everything was good. Almost out of a fairytale, she has the prince charming and they are going to ride off over the rainbow into the sunset happily ever after.
Okay, am I scaring you? Lets rewind, go back to when everything was good. Almost out of a fairytale, she has the prince charming and they are going to ride off over the rainbow into the sunset happily ever after.
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