From the sleepless beauty who failed math class and cant count her Z's:

The butterfly mass suicide should have been a sign...
...but all we could do was be stunned at how many there were as they flew around and into our car, splatting all over it, leaving smears of amazingly bright rainbow colors all over the windshield; it looked like eyeshadow. It should have been a sign, but it wasn't. We got the to beach, the largest stretch of Barrier Island in the world, and floating in and building up on the Texas sands were hundreds of thousands of dead fish. Red tide was in, and it wasn't pretty. You could sense it in the air, the headach and the itchy throat. I watched the sea gulls avoid the ultra-fish market they would have fought over at any other time. I poked a makeral with a stick. I ate some Whataburger. I rode the ferry. I learned something today.

I knew what we were looking at was a bunch of young men preparing to possibly die...
...voluntarily. The thought of it made me shiver, or maybe it was the below freezing tempurature creeping into the cab of the truck. We had pulled over on the dark, winding road in order to watch. The tracer flashed red several times in the distance, red and contrasting with the moonless night. The best nights there were moonless. You saw the small light on the helicopter buzz around and even though we were about a mile and a half away you could hear the beating of its blade. Then the flash of the missile launching, the light spread across the sky, the explosion. After a few moments of silence the delayed sound his us; the crack of the launch, the whizzing through the air, then the boom of it's impact. The tracers flashed again like a marquee or a cheap neon sign. Then a gun went off, silent of course, until the sound caught up with our distance, but the little yellow-orange shots were easy to see. They originated at the helicopter and flashed down to the ground. I imagined it looked like one of those vietnam movies if we had been closer. The flashes from the missiles momentarily lit up the mountain side, but not enough to see their enormus shapes or the eerie hazy white glow of the snow on top, but enough to see the little outlines of the Hummers buzzing around the ground like ants. I shivered at the reminder that this was just pilaging on a large scale and a completely disrespectful act, or maybe it was just the below freezing tempurature creeping into the cab of the truck.

There you were, dead on the beach and soaking wet...
...but you were cute and i felt awful for you. No one would help so we burried you in the dunes like the ranger said to. I left you your sweater and shirt, but i took your fancy necklace in case i found someone who had loved you before you got lost. I looked for months, contacting any possible lead and trying my hardest to avenge your ghost. I didn't find who loved you, I only found greedy people wanting to buy you. If you were alive i was offered $5,000! What hog wash. You haunt me in my sleep that i couldn't find your mom, father or a friend that could help your story end. I'm sorry and I hope that it's okay since i did my best.

This isn't a memory...
...but I wish it was. You, complete with your thick black coat of shiny hair, were walking down the street, minding your own business; your toenails clinking on the sidewalk because you had no opposable thumbs to operate the toe nail clippers with and no one was there to do it for you. Hark! You heard a distressed cry! You saw a burning house, and when you bravely ran inside there was a cat-burglar with a machete and a shotgun, about to murder an innocent woman and her 2 small boys! You bark, bark, barked your hoofing bark and chased that buglar upstiars where you bit him in the calf, he dropped the machete and picking it up in your mouth you used it to hack his left hand off. The house started crumbling around you so you lept from the window, but the buglar shot you in the leg mid air and in a cloud of blood and shrapnil you tumbled to the ground. While the buglar burned with no escape on the second floor, you limped bravely into the living room of the house, rescuing the mother and children, before you pulled a Rambo and hauled, bleeding, into the woods. That, my dear, is the story of how you got shot.

I had never been to a school dance...
...and it would be years before I went again, for good reason. I was talked into going, and it was as I expected. Bad music, 8th graders grinding on each other, and the only boy I liked was outside getting pushed out of a tree instead of hanging out with me. The principle called us into her office, started in on us about being devil worshipers. Her evidence was that some of us didn't rise for the pledge, others dressed funny, had weird opinions or didn't fit into the general populous. We didn't do normal 13 year old things, dress the same was as all the other kids and listen to the same music as they did. The teacher looked at your hand and said "Well why does Jessica have an L written on her hand? What does that stand for?" We all looked at it silently and she replied, "Laundry?"

It was like pulling teeth to get you to come...
...but you did. You didn't believe anything we had to say, it was all here say, superstition, you said. We took you outside in the dark to show you, but nothing happened; you gloated. Later that night, we were all three in bed, right next to each other. Then it happened. They were so loud we could hear them in the house, like they were right outside the window. You started crying and saying you wanted to go home. I kept my quiet self satisfaction to myself!

You came over because you were friends with our friends...
...but you were a jerk. We didn't like you. We got in trouble because someone left my fathers baby blue spray paint out and even though you had a blue ring around your nostril you said you didn't do it and we got in trouble for it. Finally, when you stole my moms medicine-drink-stuff and left the cans in the backyard we stole your shoes and chased you away with giant sticks with nails in them and stuff. Don't mess with my mom, bro.

Who remembers anything about what time of the year it was...
...or what day it was, or anything else that happened that day. But, we do remember you coming home from work and making us turn out all the lights and lay on the floor as you stared out the tiny crack of the bed sheets we used as curtains, afraid, randomly, that there was going to be a drive by shooting that night. We layed like that for what seemed like hours, probably was. There was no drive by shooting that night.

Everything was spinning over and over and over...
...and I just kept on rolling. The grass was so soft beneath me, much softer than my bed, and a beautiful bright green color like it was doctored with techni-color. It looked like Faeries and Leprachauns were going to fly out of it. I felt a stick go underneath me and I stopped. I lifted by body up to a sitting position. I couldn't see much of anything, but I heard some goats and the sun was warm and I just remember laughing. For the rest of the time we went to the top of Pu'u Huluhulu and listened to the time delay of the few cars that went by over the cattle guard. There was snow in the mountain, a family of goats, a ton of birds singing happy songs. I really expected a princess to come out of the bushes singing. I curled up in my hoodie and watched as time didn't move at all.

I was annoyed I had to get up that early...
...The days had all been long, and getting up at 2:30am is hard anyways. We drove. And drove and drove and drove. Some stupid John Mayer song played on the cd player. I slept on your shoulder, got some dirty looks from my boyfriend. It was dark, you couldn't see anything. It was getting colder and colder. We got there and it was literally freezing. We brought all our blankets and hoodies, wore extra shirts. There was a little light, false dawn, you could see the mountains and towns below us. Sooner than later the sun started creeping up over the the land...but I realized that wasn't land at all, they were clouds. Clouds as far as you could see! The surise came above them, they were so very far below us. I felt so filled with a love and excitment. When it was over and we were driving back down, eating the Subway sandwich I had brought that stupid John Mayer song played again but this time it wasn't so stupid.

"Today the sky is painted colors of the cowboy cliche.
It's strange that clouds that look like mountains in the sky are next to mountains anyways."

Hale.A.Kala, Home of the Sun.

I was really little....
...I don't know how little, but pretty tiny. Before Kindergarten, if I had to guess. I was dreaming, there was all this stuff in my backyard and in the swamp. It was pink everywhere; a pepto-bismal pink. There was a lamb in a top hat and a monicle, a pink rooster, a pink cat, all on their hind legs and speaking like humans. They were standing around a small pink pool with a little pink picket fence around it and a Dr. Suess style fish swimming around in it. There was pink gunk hanging off of the vines in the swamp. I also looked like Jennifer Connelly. I woke up, walked through our trailer to the kitchen. The house was unusually quiet, so I asked my mom where the boys were. She said they were outside, they were taking pictures of something. Outside I found them, taking pictures of this pink, pepto-bismal colored stuff, clinging in icecicle shapes off of a vine in the swamp.

The silver turtles just wouldn't cook...
...so after waiting and waiting and eating them not-quite-done-yet, it was time to go swimming. It was well after midnight and we clammered down to the lake, or at least where the lake should have been, and we used our measily flash lights to walk down the rocks that should have been underwater. Slipping out of our flip flops we were laughing and on edge. Not another soul to be seen or heard, the five of us made it to the black water, only the moon and the stars to be seen. Maybe some house lights in the distance. The water was warm but it felt good. We played, saw some butts, had some races, probably made too much noise. Around two you were near the land. You felt something touch the side of your rib cage, then your arm, and looking down it was so dark you did't see anything; but then a snake floated up from your arm pit and you freaked out. Everyone ran for the shore and climbing back up the rocks, sliding in our flip flops and laughing, we made fun of each others reactions.

It was so hot and the roof was sticky...
...the shade of what we called the China Berry tree didn't do anything to help. But it was better than being in the house or where someone could find us and make our lives miserable. For hours we sad there suffering, trading off on guessing what color the next car would be that drove down our street. We were right a surprising amount of the time. Later that day we found that old brown cloak and we tied a long rope to the smaller China Berry tree closer to the street. We made a little loop and took turns slipping into it. We put the cloak on over it and would swing ourselves out infront of cars that would pass by. I'm surprised, sometimes, that we are still alive.

I was in Kindergarden and I wanted nothing more than...
...that Jem doll with the light up earings. We didn't get much along the lines of presents, christmas or birthdays if anything, but I did get it. She had amazig golden strands mixed in with her pink and some cool, cool outfits. You tied me to a chair in my moms room and made me watch as you sat on the bed and dismembered her limb by limb as I cried. Then you went outside and dug a whole, burying her in it. You were such a jerk!

We were driving down the slopes of one mountain...
...only drive up the slopes of another. We drove past it so fast that when the words came out of my mouth I wasn't even sure of them. Just to be safe, as we always were, we did two U-turns and drove by what I think I saw slower. We were already late, but since I was right, we were okay with being even more late. I got out of the car and walked towards it. I was in flip flops and the weather was getting colder. Eric told me to wait since he was in his hiking boots ad could more easy traverse the rocks to check it out. I stood about 6 feet away and has Eric got near it, hanging in the tree lifeless and dead, he whistled. It sprung to life and stretched it's huge white wings out to what had to have been a 3 1/2 foot wing span. It started flailig around in a panic; one leg was caught on the low Silk Oak branch just a wingspan from the rocky lava ground. We backed away and discussed what to do. If we wanted to get it some help, we had to know where we were, and "About 15 minutes past Kaloko on the upper road" just doesn't cut it for directions. I watched Eric drive away into the distance and disapear as he went to find the nearest existing mile marker. The world around me went quiet except for the hum of wind through the Ohia trees. I walked closer to it. It calmly turned it's head around almost all the way, like they do in the cartoons, and we just stared at each other. His solid black eyes stared into mine. If I believed in the traditional form of a soul, I might have thought we were looking into each others. His white and tan feathers looked so soft, his feet looked so sharp. I couldn't help but think of David Bowie flying into a bedroom window.

My mom was staying at my gradparents house...
...she was helping them clean up for a annual bbq they had. She opened up a drawer in the kitchen to put some things away, when she couldn't believe what she saw. She slowly closed the drawer and said to my PawPaw, "Nelson, why don't you come take a look at this?"
PawPaw shuffled over to it, opened it up and peered inside. After a brief staring contest with the contents, he said "Nana, why the hell did you put this dead bird in this drawer?"
She said "What? I did't put a dead bird in that drawer!"
It was laying on a rubber jar opener with it's little head propped up on a small ball of string.
He aswered "Yes you did, you were carrying that thing around 2 weeks ago holding it cuffed i youre hands, rubbing it, saying if you could just warm it up it would spring back to life!"

I was just sitting on my porch...
...I was home alone and I was working from home. Sitting under the big umbrella with a Royal Poinciana tree above me, sending it's sweet smell down. A cat sleeping under my chair, birds singing and a nice breeze coming off the mountain. Throughout the day I would constantly look up, out to the ocean to see if there were any surfers or boats going by, or just to look at the wonderfuly blue color of the water and the coral underneath. This time it was different. This time I looked up and after a few moments a giant Humpback Whale breached! It flew into the air, and hovered for a moment like it was in slow motion. It came crashing down into the sea with a firework of white water shooting into the air. I was paralized; I had never seen such a thing before. You hear about them, you knew season was coming up, but nothing can prepare you for actually seeing the bulk, size and magic of one in person. I realized I was crying like a sissy. Before making it's way south and dissapearing into the trees its dorsal came out of the water several times, in and out like a sewing machine. I'm glad it ended up being a common occurance after that.

We had been sitting on your living room floor...
...and your mom told you to go clean the pool. It seemed to me like you cleaned the pool every other day. You got up and as you were walking to the back door, i told you "Watch out for that snake in the drain." I don't really know why. You asked me what I meant and I told you I didn't know. You went out, skimmed the pool with that Paul Bunyan Butterfly Net, then opened one of the surface drains to clean the leaves out. There it was, a 2 1/2 foot snake. Awkward...

I honestly don't remember too much about that night...
...but I do remember the show was loud. We were there, just like we were there every week to watch them play. I enjoyed it every single time. We were driving home in that awful green van, just me and you; a change from the usual hot, van load of people. Down 183 it was dusk, and I do remember the sunset was beautiful, goldens and pinks, clouds everywhere making it intricate like fine vintage jewelry. I don't remember what we talked about, but as we neared the Spicewood Springs exit we took it. We drove down the older, curvier portion of it as it got darker and darker; the night was falling so quick it was almost alarming-we drove faster. We parked the car and raced through the trailed woods, got to the water and jumped in. After a few carefree minutes it was getting to the kind of dark where the sky is still light but the world around you starts to become scary and mysterious. I don't remember what we talked about, but I do remember the smell, smiling, laughing and driving home soaking wet and cold in the breeze.

You were dressed like you were going to make some money on the street corner...
...Well, we weren't going to make some money, but we WERE going to the street corner. Camera in hand, I followed, and you looked so pretty. We got to the corner up the hill and you jumped on that stop sign and I took a few pictures. On our way home, someone had called the cops. "Indecent exposure" or something. Once the cop saw you, he had to call for back up; that's how hot you are. Somewhere around 6 police cars, one dog, and what had to be at least 2 cops to each car. The cop made me run home and bring you back a sweat shirt so you wouldn't be so...indecent. You sat there, an almost naken butt on a bumpy concrete wall with a large Mickey Mouse on the front of the shirt I had grabbed, while a cop stood over you and gave you a lecture. I was SO tempted to take a picture.

Advertisement