Untouchable

This post is for teenagers that are 14-18. It is an experience that some kids within this age group experience in scenarios common to the one in this post. Enjoy....

Everything was a blur to me that day. It started off fine, we were all at a party hanging out and then it got out of control…I never imagined I would try it, but somehow I was persuaded into trying it. It was out of control, it was crazy, and it was unreal.

The party started unusually early, my girlfriends and I were excited because our crushes were going to be there. Everyone was drinking and then out of nowhere some random kid I had never seen before pulls out a huge bag of coke. Everyone was doing it; I was scared because I knew my turn would soon come up. I didn’t know how to say no, I didn’t say no.

I was afraid I wasn’t going to snort it right, that everyone would laugh at me, but I didn’t have a problem. Just after two minutes my body became numb and my emotions were running. I felt extremely happy, and I felt in control of everything. At that point, nothing could upset me; it did not cross my mind that what I had done was wrong. I was on top of the world and no one could ruin my high. The party had gotten out of control and a neighbour had called the police, not the greatest thing when almost everyone in the house is high on drugs.

Before I knew it, my two friends Jake and Felicia grabbed me and ran out the back door through the connecting alley. It was raining outside and the cold rain felt relaxing on my bare arms. Everything was blurry, the lights were more colourful then they usually appear for me. All I could see was the rain and whoosh of our legs moving. We were running fast. My heart was thumping so fast I thought it was going to pop out of my chest.

I wont ever forget this night, the colours, the blur, and the running we did. It was memorable, but something I will never do again. However, the feeling I got was indescribable, something that I’m afraid to think of because it makes me want to go back to it; Go back to the night where I was running with the ice cold rain melting against my heated body.

Fighting a Fear

This is for women from the age of 35 and up. Staying young is every womans' dream. Unfortunately, we all age...just do not let it get this far. As you can see this woman regretted it :)

I was always afraid of getting old when I was younger. Looking at this picture that my son took of me when we took my grandchildren to the fair showed the fear on my face. I absolutely disguise pictures because it only shows how much older I really am.

Here I am stuck at a fair with all these beautiful young women. I’m the old lady that makes them think to themselves “I don’t want to ever become like that.” Its true, no one does, and I sure didn’t. Look at me! How did I allow myself to get so wrinkly? My hair is white, why didn’t I ever think of dying it? The pain of being old hit me hard when I saw this picture. This picture opened my eyes and made me realize I needed to do something about my appearance. I gave up a long time ago, thinking that old people are supposed to look like this. Who made those rules up? I did in my head, which I regret. I need to fix this, which is my new goal…

Enough is Enough

This is for children of the ages six to fourteen. We have all been put in positions like this where we think our parents are monsters! But in reality, they love us and we never will end up moving out at eighteen. Ha-ha it is funny to think, what if babies really do think like this?


Okay, why am I being placed on a wooden floor? And why is this ridiculous costume on my person? Parents these days think that everything so stupid is so cute. What am I supposed to be anyway? I want it off right now, and as much as I cry and complain they wont take it off. So now I have come to the point where I am just going to take this crap for a bit longer and pose for their stupid pictures. I hate being a baby; I have no say in anything, and end up in situations LIKE THIS all the time. I am absolutely tired of people pinching my cheeks and speaking to me in a language I don’t even understand. Ga-ga-gu-gah? What the heck is that supposed to mean? I can’t wait until the day I turn eighteen and move out of this house. I hear my parents telling my brothers all the time that they were supposed to move out at eighteen and how come they didn’t. When they respond by saying that they were stupid and young for saying those things I think to myself…WELL I AM DEFINITELY MOVING OUT. Putting me in a costume like this, where I am itchy and sweaty is not good parenting. In fact I feel as if I should call childcare right now and tell them what is going on. I guess I am going to have to endure this for a little longer, but mark my words; I am out when I am eighteen!

Facing my Greatest Fear

This post is for the ages of fourteen to eighty. It is a story that people can relate to, if they have lost a loved one. Facing your fear is what it takes to overcome it. Enjoy.

At the beginning it was a nightmare I played over in my head every night. I thought that something was wrong with me at first, but then I realized that I had been living through this nightmare because I could not accept it. When I was seventeen years old, my father committed suicide. It was difficult for my whole family, but particularly me because my father and I were the closest. He was my best friend, someone I confided in with all my life experiences.

When I first heard what happened I thought it was all a mistake. That they didn’t identify the man who jumped off the rocks into the crashing waves correctly. It couldn’t be him I kept repeating, why would he do that? His life was perfect, from what it seemed. He had a happy marriage, we were not poor, and he had me. Reality slapped me in the face when my father didn’t come home one day, then two days, then three days, and then a year.

After seeing so many doctors I came to the conclusion that they were no help. I appreciated their sympathy and comfort, but that was not what would help me overcome my nightmares. I never visited the crime scene of where it all happened; I just pictured it in my head. I couldn’t bear to see the spot where my father ended his life, where he unknowingly ended mine. Two years later and here I am. I never thought in a million years I would come to this horrific site. Here I am standing alone on a rock, maybe the rock he jumped from. I try to talk myself into heading back to the car, when I think of alternative option. What if my father jumped because life was harder than death? What if he jumped because the life he is living now, like the life the Bible describes when the world will come to its end is more exciting and peaceful. I decide to jump too. I slowly make my way closer to the edge of the slippery rock, the black crashing waves hitting against it with full force. Then suddenly I feel a warm breeze pass me. I feel as if someone is standing behind me, I turn around and my father stands with his arms behind his back and his head down. He looks like he is in pain. Dad? Is it really you? Bu-u-ut I thought you were…Dad? My father just looked at me and started to smile. Why are you smiling? You know we have all been worried sick about you don’t you? Mom is a wreck, and as for me, well you totally screwed my life up. How could you do this to us? He just kept looking at me and smiling. As I was about to say something he cut me off and told me that he loved me. He said that he did not commit suicide, that he was enjoying the black, crashing waves when he slipped and fell into the water. The waves were too strong for my father to fight. I stood there, my mind racing with millions of questions. Before I could ask any of them, he told me he loved mom and me and disappeared…