Blogophilia 44.3 Take Two and Call Me In The Morning

Blogophilia 44.3 Topic: "Take Two and Call Me in the Morning"

Bonus points:

(Hard, 2pts): Impart some pearls of wisdom  (serenity prayer)

(Easy, 1pt): include the words "directions not included"

Final date to post: January 4th, 2010, GMT midnight

Photo guesses:  It ain't over til the fat lady sings, pushups, show off, moving mountains, give me a break, illusions, delsions of grandeur, V for Victory

It's been a helluva week around here.  Been busy and haven't felt much like blogging.  I've been racking up a bunch of hours at work, and it might just stay that way because one of the people I was filling in for up and quit.  So, no more part time status, which is just fine with me.  The money is definitely needed.  Especially since I just had to put $800+ on my credit card to get my car repaired.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!   *#&@^!%@^  

On the good side, Kelli and I have been spending more time together, talking things out and feeling the waters.  I'm thinking we just need to be friends right now as it seems we get along fine when it's like that, but as soon as we go back to being a couple we fight like cats and dogs.  She's such an important part of my life, I don't want to jeopardize our friendship.  Directions are not included when it comes to relationships....would it be so hard, Universe, to give us a guidebook or somethin'?    

On the sobriety front, I've been struggling with not drinking, but have successfully not indulged in any other substances since I moved into my new place a few weeks ago.  Getting out of there was - literally - a breath of fresh air and I'm glad I made the decision.  Things are looking up a bit for me now....just gotta keep trudging on the way I'm going.  

Grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change,

courage to change the things I can,

and wisdom to know the difference.

Not that I haven't been tempted to use.  In fact Christmas Day I was so down and feeling the need to not feel any emotions that I considered acquiring some vicodin, or oxycontin, or even heroin.  The pills are much easier to get around here and is what triggered my relapse back to heroin over the summer.  But I knew that if I took even just one it would trigger that manic compulsion to use in my brain; I wasn't so depressed that I wanted to go there again after having fought tooth and nail to get clean again a couple months ago.  

An article on how prevalent prescription drugs are becoming among recreational drug users:

Take two and call me in the morning

 I'm OK with where I'm at in the fight at the moment.  Taking things one day at a time, and doing what I can to keep myself out of situations where I'm tempted to use.  All I can do, right?

Gettin' Outta Dodge

Still playing with the layout and settings here, obviously.  The one thing I like about Wordpress over Blogger is it has more bells and whistles to tweak, giving me more control for settings, privacy, etc.  The one thing Blogger has over Wordpress is more, and better, layout options.  I've googled for free Wordpress layout sites and what I've seen hasn't impressed me that much.  But search for Blogger layouts and you'll get millions of varieties.  Ah well.  Can't have it all, eh?  For now I've whittled my blogging site preferences down to just Wordpress and Blogger so will continue to write at both places for now.  Friendburst and Myboomerplace are out of the race after giving them both trial runs.  I don't need a social network for blogging anyway.....I get my social network needs met by Facebook.


On the homefront, I'm finally gettin' outta dodge.....I found somewhere else to live and will move tomorrow.  Granted, it's only 4 trailers down from this one, but I'll be living alone.  No more bong smoke wafting through the air, no more drug paraphenalia littering the floor, no more late night parties with beer cans and bottles and used condoms piling up in the corners.


Damn....I'm gonna miss all that.


Just kidding.  I think.


Seriously though, trying to stay clean and living in a place where people are actively using in front of me, and trying to coerce me to use with them, is extremely hard.  I'll admit I caved some on the weed.  But when the pills and powders and whatnot would come out I'd have to confine myself to my bedroom, or leave altogether.   My resolve to remove myself from those temptations was wearing extremely thin and I don't think I would have lasted much longer.  My resolve to turn my roommate in if any more drugs were brought into the house ended pretty quickly, too, much to my shame.  So I'm grateful I was able to find a place I could afford so quickly so I can get the hell out of there.


Now I'll be able to put a fresh focus on my recovery, something I haven't really been able to do with all the constant distractions.


Have a good weekend everyone.

Blogophilia 41.3 Going For It

Blogophilia 41.3 Topic: "Going For It"


Bonus points:
(Hard, 2 pts): include "playing with a rabbit (or b00nie)"
(Easy, 1 pt): use a word in German (not the phrase "in German") the word I chose was hasenpfeffer, which means rabbit stew in German.



Upon entering the yard, she saw him....

What the heck was he doing here?

He's not supposed to be here!

She stopped in her tracks and stood watching him.

Watching him watch her.

Should she go for it?

At that moment ancient instinct welled up inside of her.

Her feet tingled, the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

In the blink of an eye she charged toward him at full speed.

He ran away.

"Come back here....oooh!  Oh this day you'll rue!

I'll make hasenpfeffer out of you!"

But it was too late. 

She sighed as she watched him bound through the fence to safety.

The old jack rabbit turned back to her and smirked.  He loved playing with that dog's mind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My dog has yet to catch a rabbit, but not for lack of trying!

Photo guesses:  Blast you, laser tag, point and shoot, don't mess with Marvin, take that, this is a stick up, stick'em up, freeze, don't make me hurt you, don't make me mad, blasted

Tales From The Gas Pump

My current employment is working part time at a gas station/convenience store.

I see my share of ........um.......stupid people.

• there's a reason why it says NO SMOKING all over the pumps.  Gas = flammable, dumbass.  Put out your fucking cigarette for the two minutes it takes to fill your tank.  Your nicotine addiction will live.
  
  
• Pay in advance means pay in advance.  If you don't have a debit/credit card, you have to pay cash in advance before you fill your tank.  Why?  Gee, it couldn't be because people steal/scam gas from us.  Can't I give you a break?  Uh, no.  I don't get paid enough to.  Unless you're willing to meet me round back......?  :::raises eyebrow:::
  
  
• Even when you think no one is watching you, someone is.  Someone being me.  I dare you to walk out of that door with that Snickers and Red Bull under your jacket.  Try me.  I'm in a fighting mood today.  Bring it, jackass.
  
  
• No, you can't return that newspaper you just bought.  It's not my fault that the headline is something that upsets you.
  
  
• Yes, cops really do eat donuts on their breaks.  And hot dogs.  Just sayin'.
  
  
• If you're in the store to buy condoms, you don't have to buy 5 other things to try and "hide" it.  Be a man.  Just walk up to the fucking counter and say in your loudest I'm-about-to-get-laid voice "Give me some fucking Trojans."  You're not fooling anyone here.
  
  
• If the slushee machine has an out of order sign on it, it means.......no, wait for it........it's out of order.  No, I'm not just fooling you because I have a vendetta against you.  Seriously.
  
  
• If your pre-made, pre-wrapped, commercial sandwich of ham and cheese from god knows what company has mayo on it and you don't like mayo, it's not my fault.  No, I can't remake it for you.
  
  
• I don't set the prices for the cigarettes.  Dude, I know they're expensive.  I'm a smoker myself.  I get it.  but I don't set the prices.  No I can't change them.  Move along.......
  
  
• If you're 13 and you look like you're 20.....guess what....you're still going to get carded for cigs.  D'oh.
  
  
• If you're drunk and about to vomit/shit your pants, please don't use our restroom.  Dude.  I have to use that too, and clean up after you.  Just sayin'.

A Good Day

I actually had a good day today.  Shocking!  Don't know why, as I didn't do anything out of the norm.  Not complaining, though.  But the pervading sense of dread and depression and that the walls are closing in on me didn't seem to be as prevalent today.

Did a ton of cleaning round the place, which was good but irritating because most of the mess is my roommate's.  Not that I'm the best at keeping things pristine, but I try to clean up after myself more than he does.  But he's still at that stage of life where living like a pig just adds to the tough guy stoner image.  Beer cans and cigarette butts and bongs and trash everywhere.

I'm still struggling with the fact that I'm just a couple years shy of being 40, and no longer a young twenty-something that can get away with partying all night.  But, I'm no longer willing to have my place of residence looking and smelling like a pigsty.

I also had a sit down with him and told him that I don't want any more drugs in the place.  If he chooses to use elsewhere, that's his business, but no more here.  And that if he does, I won't hesitate to call the police.  He got pissed and said it's his place and if I don't like it I can move out.  I said alright then, I'll have to look for a new place, and left it at that.

A couple of hours later he wandered back in and asked me why I was being such a dick.  I said you know I'm trying to stay clean dude, and get my life back in order.  I said you may still be at a place where you can take it or leave it, but I can't, and having it shoved in my face every few days is like rubbing salt in an open wound.  I told him that I hoped he wasn't so far in as to go down the same path I did, but if he was I could help.  At that he got quiet, and I could see he was wanting to tell me something, but he chickened out and walked out of the room.  I'm not going to pester him, just wait and see.  He knows how I feel, and I also know he doesn't want me to move out.

I surprised myself by remaining calm throughout the exchange and I didn't let it get to me.  I've been scouting out potential new places for a week now and have a couple of potential leads, but haven't acted because I really don't want to have to move.....again.  I know this isn't the ideal place, living with someone who is actively using drugs and is in the lifestyle, but for some reason I feel compelled to stay here.  Maybe I'm supposed to help this kid, I dunno.

We knew each other through mutual friends (i.e. dealers) and when I got evicted from my house this summer I was put in touch with him and he graciously let me crash at his trailer, even though all he had available at the time was the couch in the living room.  I was still in relapse at that time and the situation seemed ideal, since he was using too.  In hindsight I hope I didn't encourage him in his usage by shooting up in front of him.  I get the feeling he views me as this cool, veteran druggie guy and thinks it's something to aspire to.  If only I could make him understand how uncool this path is, the lengths I've gone to in the past.....but I can't.  He'll have to learn it himself.

So anyway, back to my good day.....I bought some cheap Christmas lights and strung them up round my bedroom and have a few Christmas-y do-dads here and there.  At least here in my bedroom, it's a little cheerful.  I'm doing my utmost to stay positive and not dwell on woulda-shoulda-coulda.  There's no use in beating myself up over my failures of this past year.

Just trying to stay in the present and look forward.

You

I feel you here with me
whispering in my ear
haunting my dreams,
and my everyday thoughts.

What would it be like
if you were here now?
I ache for the future
we never had.

I can see your blue eyes
your blonde hair,
your brilliant smile.
I remember the taste of you.

Why am I still here
and you are not?
The fates sure got that one wrong.
Is it too late to change places?

Your breath whispering to me
giving me the courage to go on.....
do you know the battle I wage?
My haunting reality....without you.

I live with the loss of you everyday.
How can I go on, knowing the emptiness
that lies before me?
Yet your whisper leads me on....

and tells me I have to go forward.
Trudge through the emptiness,
trudge through the battle.
Victory awaits me on the other side.

I trust you.....so I go on.


Copyright Steven Clark 2010

Blogophilia 40.3 The Way We Were

Blogophilia

This link is to Marvin's new Facebook page.  I'd link the Myspace page too but we all know what a clusterfuck that would be.

(to anyone who has no idea who/what Marvin and Blogophilia are, Blogophilia is a writing group that originated on Myspace.  Each week a topic is given for you to incorporate any way you want into a fiction or non-fiction story, poem, song, you name it.  Bonus prompts are given to incorporate as well.  It's an awesome group of fun and talented people.....join us if you're interested!)

Topic: The Way We Were

(Hard, 2pts): complete the phrase "Advice is what we ask for...."

(Easy, 1pt): include the word 'insane'

A Good Me vs. Bad Me Installment

Good Me:    *hums while dusting*    

Bad Me:    *wakes up with a start*    huh?   uh, wuuuuuhhhh?

Good Me:    About time you woke up.  Come on, help me finish unpacking and cleaning!

Bad Me:    WTF?  What do you mean by 'unpacking and cleaning' huh?  *looks around*  where the hell are we, anyway?

Good Me:    *sighs*  You know perfectly well where we are.  We're in our new home.

Bad Me:    New home?  What. The Fuck.  Seriously mate, what's goin' on here?  *glares suspiciously*

Good Me:    You really do have short term memory loss, haven't you?  *whispers under breath*  must be all the drugs....

Bad Me:    I heard that!  *narrows eyes*  I haven't used anything in......um.....well....a long time!

Good Me:    *laughs hysterically*  a few days doesn't count as a long time, sorry to say.  ANYWAY, *rolls eyes*   this is our new home.  BlogSpot.  We also have rentals at WordPress, Myboomerplace, and Friendburst too, but we're making our home here for now.  

Bad Me:     WTF happened to Myspace?!?

Good Me:     Argh, don't ask.  Seriously, don't ask  *tears up*

Bad Me:    *looks astonished*  Blimey, I didn't know it had gotten that bad.  Do they need an intervention?

Good Me:    Who, Myspace?  We already tried.  It's a lost cause.  *breaks up and weeps*

Bad Me:    *looks uncomfortable*   Um....     *pats Good Me's shoulder*   Uh......there there.  Hush....um, fuck.

Good Me:    *blows nose on Bad Me's shirt*    Thanks mate.  I'll be OK.  It's just still so hard to accept.....I keep remembering the way we were, all of us bloggers there, in this fabulous community!  We sent so many emails, staged so many protests......advice is what we asked for from Myspace, how to survive these changes.....and we were told we bloggers didn't matter!  *starts sobbing again*  Yes!  We were told we didn't matter! Isn't that insane?  We were the only ones keeping Myspace afloat!  *weeps uncontrollably*  

Bad Me:     *looking even more uncomfortable*  Uh.......ok.  So what you're saying is, we have new digs?

Good Me:    *loudly sniffs*   YES.

Bad Me:    And are any of our friends here?

Good Me:   A few, yes.  Why?

Bad Me:    *whistling*   Oh, I dunno....new digs might be kinda fun yeah?  

Good Me:   What do you mean?

Bad Me:    *smirks*   Well.....new digs, new girls, new......distractions.....  *grins evilly*  So out with it, how's the scene, how's the action, where's the girls, where's the bar!?  Come on, where's the fucking bar!?

Good Me:   *long, heavy sigh*  Here we go again.....

alcohol fumes

Well, I did make it through the night on Friday without caving and joining in with my roommate and his friends as they partook of certain illegal substances.

I didn't get through the night totally unscathed though, as I got piss drunk.

So was the night a success, or a failure?

Is it better that I didn't snort half of Nebraska up my nose, or worse that I relied on a different mind altering substance to get through the night?

Does it make any difference?

It's a trap many addicts fall into, thinking if they quit using drugs, they can still drink.

Well, alcohol is a drug, a fact that most people minimize just like caffeine and nicotine.  The fact that it's legal and socially acceptable doesn't make it a safer choice.

But we junkies who are ready to get some semblance of a normal life back, but aren't ready to quite give up the ghost yet and live 100% sober, gravitate towards alcohol and continue escaping from reality, continue numbing ourselves out and not dealing with the problems that led to us becoming addicts in the first place.

I recognize it and acknowledge it, even as I sit here tonight and continue to drink.  I rationalize it in my mind that it's the lesser of two evils.  That with everything else going on in my life right now, I need it.  Deserve it, really.  I know it's fucked up, it's insane, yet I simultaneously rationalize it anyway.

The thought of not drinking....or using....*anything*....is absolutely terrifying to me and I don't understand how normal people do it.  Since, of course, I'm not normal.

I know that I need to find another place to live, and soon.  If I want to have any kind of chance at staying clean, I can't keep being around people who are using, especially right here in my place of residence.

Stuck

Still been playing with the layout and I think I have all the comment glitches fixed.  I really like this background a lot better too.  Hopefully everything will stay working.

On the homefront, I'm currently stuck in my bedroom and have three choices:  1) stay in here and play on the computer all night and ignore what is happening outside; 2) leave and try and find somewhere else to exist for the night, or 3)take part in the drug fest that my roommate and his friends are engaging in just outside my door.

Of course option #1 is the hardest, because it's kinda hard to ignore....especially when I want to engage in the drug fest.  #2 leaves me, at the moment, with sleeping in my car because I have no where else to go.  #3 would be compromising my already shaky recovery even further, though my brain is telling me "it's just one night, you can start over again tomorrow."

It's hard to stay clean when those around you aren't.

It's going to be awhile before I can find somewhere else to live as I can't afford anywhere else at the moment.

I'm wondering what's the point of it all, why even try?  Whenever I achieve any measure of success in recovery I always end up sabotaging it all and backsliding.  I tell myself I want recovery and to have a normal, happy life, but I must not want it that bad because I keep fucking it up.  What's it going to take?

Yeah, I know I'm whining.  Sorry.

My rage reverberates off the walls
from my silent glare;
if looks could kill, the place
would be ablaze with the
flames of my blackened soul.
I look in the mirror and the force
of my self-hatred cracks the surface;
through the wavering shards I see
the terrified boy within crying out
for anyone, everyone to hear.
I'm here, he says.  I matter.
Don't you understand?
I glare even harder and the last
remnants of glass fall to the floor
to be ground into dust by my boot.
You don't matter, I say.
You never have.

Tweaking

Tweaking the layout of my blog that is.....what did you think I was gonna say?

Besides, I prefer my illegal substances to be on the downer side, not the upper.  Unless they're combined.....but that's another blog.  Oi.

Anyway, let me know what you think.  It's kinda fun looking through all the layouts available for free online and fiddling with all the bells and whistles in the Blogger template designer.  I get to playing with it all and before I know it a few hours have been sucked from my existance.

It's kinda like that with drugs too, but at least playing on the computer is legal.  Heh.

I learned how to add a reply button to comments, if you want to be able to reply directly to each comment.  Thank you for the help, Kev!

The instructions are here and you only have to be mildly computer literate to follow:  spice up your blog

Note:  this will only work if you have your comments embedded directly beneath your posts.  It won't work with the pop up box or full page comment setting.

Oh, and for anyone who has tried to embed your comments directly underneath the blog but it wouldn't work, I figured that out, too (I'm looking at you, Kimmie).  Apparently the embed setting doesn't work if you try and do it after you've already installed a custom template from an outside source.  So here's what I had to do to fix mine:

Go to Design, then Edit html.

If you want to use the same template you have now, copy and paste all of the code in the box to Word or something so you still have it.  Done that?  Good.  Now.....delete all the code in the edit template box.  Trust me.  Then save template.

Now click on template designer and pick one of the bland generic formats Blogger offers.  Don't worry, it's just temporary.  Apply to blog, go back to blogger, and save. 

Now go to your Settings, then comments (underneath, not in the tab) to click embedded below post, and make sure post pages are enabled (check this under Archiving).  Save.

View your blog to make sure it worked.  Throw up a few test comments, just cuz it's fun and I said so.

Working?  All comments are showing underneath your post?  Good. 

NOW you can go back to Design and edit html and put your customized template back in, or go find a new one.  Save.

I know, I know, it's a lot of work.  But it'll be worth it in the end.

Just be sure you do all of these steps BEFORE you try doing the add-a-reply-button thingy above, if you're going to.  Trust me.

*edited to add:  well, it seems there's still technical glitches with the embed-below-blog comment thing, so ignore what I said above.  still working on it.

Happy (and legal) tweaking!

Oh, and have a great Thanksgiving.  Eat lots of pie and turkey and stuff, watch football, bicker with your family and watch Uncle Frank get schnockered.  Just don't let him fondle the turkey.

Aftermath

So.....life after Myspace.

For that's what it's come down to, no matter how optimistic we've tried to be, no matter how much we pimped protest blogs and wrote letters of complaint to the execs, no matter that we actually attracted the attention of VP Sean Percival to the point that he personally responded to comments addressing concerns.....it wasn't enough.

Oh sure, I have no doubt that they'll fix some of the things we've been complaining about, but at this point who cares?  So many bloggers have left in mass exodus never to return, and I sure as hell don't believe any new people will be flocking to Myspace simply to blog now.  Our tight-knit community has been scattered to the cyberwind.

I've been so caught up in all the drama over this the last few weeks, this current week being the most frenzied emotional week of them all since this started, that I've been neglecting something very serious. 

Recovery, of course.

I feel like I've lost my family....only I haven't.  Most of us have hooked up in one way or the other by Facebook, here on Blogger, or via personal email.  So it's not like I've lost them....it's just.... different. 

So why should that matter?  Why should the format make any difference?  We're all still hanging on, right?  Right.  But, the change has happened so fast that I'm still in a bit of shock over it all.  It's amazing how passionately we feel over the loss of our "home" on the 'Space.  Some people have even commented that their Myspace friends mean more to them than their offline friends.

Now a few years ago that would have been a red flag for some serious mental issues.....but now?  Now it makes total sense and I feel the same way about some.  The world has moved into such a virtual-texting-plugged in-online existence that yeah, these cyber friendships have evolved into something real.  I mean hey, I'm not some troll bot sitting here typing, I'm a real flesh and blood human.  So what if I never meet any of you in person?  Does that make the friendship less valid?

Anyway....back to recovery....

I'll admit that this has shaken me up quite a bit.  I've been drinking massively every night this week and have chosen to ignore my sober strategies to deal with stress.  I've barely slept for shit and have been relying on heavy caffeiene to get through the day.  I've been eating like shit, or not eating at all.  Consequently, I feel like utter shit.  I even fucking dreamed of shit last night....now that's messed up.

So now that the worst of the massive drama is over and calming down, I need to figure out how to mentally move foward from this upheaval.  And take better care of myself.  And....and....etc. etc. 

My goals for this coming weekend are thus:

• stay sober
• get real sleep
• eat healthy
• get some exercise
• focus on the positives
• remember I am powerless over all the Myspace shit, focus on things I can change.

Solitary Confinement

Mischeif's challenge this week is to repost any blog you've written that you're most proud of, no matter the content, as a sort of honor to the Myspace blogging community (in light of recent chaos).

This was my first attempt at fiction writing, originally posted as a Blogophilia write in September 2008.

-------------------------------------------------

Chelsea sat at her bedroom window looking wistfully outside at the street.  All of the neighborhood kids were there playing a game of street tag, all except her, that is.  She leaned her forehead against the glass and thought about how unfair life was.

She glanced at the clock; how much longer did she have to stay in here?  That morning Chelsea had opened the door to her mother's bedroom and saw her and her boyfriend, Eddie, naked on the bed.  Eddie screamed at her mother to "get that brat out of here, now!"  Her mother jumped up, threw on a tattered bathrobe and grabbed Chelsea by the arm, dragging her back to her own bedroom.  "You're staying in solitary confinement until further notice, missy," she spat.  It was now 1:00 in the afternoon, and she had to pee.  She hated Eddie.

"Solitary Confinement" was one of Eddie's phrases.  He had been dating her mother for about 3 months now, but it seemed more like he was living with them since he was always around.  He shaved his head and had tattoos all over his arms, and even had one on his face that looked like a tear drop coming from his eye.  She wondered if that was something you had to get in prison, for one of Eddie's friends had a tear tattoo on his face as well and she knew they had been in prison together.  Eddie always smelled like beer and sweat.  Sometimes when Chelsea would walk past him, he'd laugh and pat her on the behind.  She tried not to walk past him very much.  

She looked at the clock again, 1:15.  She wondered if she should try and sneak out, but the floorboards in the hallway sqeaked so bad she knew she wouldn't get away with it.  She walked to the door, opened it a crack, and softly yelled, "Mom?  Can I come out now?  I really need to pee!"

No response came from her mother's bedroom, nor from the living room.  She held her breath and listened for any sound, any at all, but she couldn't hear anything except the faint wheeze of the window air conditioner.  Deciding to risk it, she shimmied down the hallway towards the bathroom as quickly and quietly as she could, floorboards squeaking and sqwaking with each step.

  

Once relieved, she wondered what she ought to do now, go back to her bedroom or sneak out to the kitchen to grab some food?  She was really hungry since she hadn't gotten to eat breakfast.  But, she was worried that she couldn't hear anyone in the house.  Surely her mother and Eddie wouldn't have left without telling her?  Of course, if they had it wouldn't really surprise her.  Her mother had been acting weird ever since Eddie had come into their lives.  

She tiptoed to her mother's bedroom door and listened.  Nothing.  She cracked it open, and saw her mother lying under the covers, asleep.  Eddie wasn't with her.  Chelsea breathed a sigh of relief.  Maybe he had gone out and wouldn't be back for a while.  She headed out to the kitchen with a grin on her face, thinking of Lucky Charms.  Rounding the corner, she stopped up short, the grin leaving her face.

Eddie was there, leaning over the kitchen table and sniffing something into his nose from a small mirror.  She had seen her mother doing that before; her mother had yelled at her that it was medicine and not to say another word about it.  Chelsea had wondered about that, but did as her mother said and didn't ask questions.  

He looked up at Chelsea, angry at first that she had interrupted him, but then a sleazy smile spread across his face.  He looked her up and down, eyes piercing through the thin fabric of her Cinderella nightgown.  Fine, that's just fine, he thought.  Need to cop me a feel of that.....

Chelsea jerked backwards as Eddie reached out to her.  As he got up from the table his arm knocked the mirror onto the floor, shattering it into pieces.  "Now look what you've done little girl, you made me break my mirror.  Know what happens to little girls that break mirrors?" he sneered.

"No," she whispered, eyes locked on his.  She was scared, her heart was hammering in her chest.  She wished her mother was awake.

"They get seven years of bad luck.  But I think I know a way to stop that from happening....wanna know how?"  He edged close enough to her that she could smell his bad breath.

"H-how?" she said, her voice starting to tremble.

His hand shot out and clamped down on her arm.  "If you give me just a little kiss, I think that'll stop it.....c'mere...."  Eddie pulled her closer to him.

In that split second, Chelsea rememered what her friend Gina from across the street told her to do if anyone bullied her:  she brought her knee up as hard as she could between his legs.  Startled and in pain, Eddie let go of her arm to grab himself and Chelsea ran to the front door and out into the street, screaming for help.

Officer Jeffries was parked down the block, giving the kids playing tag a warning to stay out of the street when he heard the scream.  He saw Chelsea dart out of the house, and saw Eddie lunging for her, shouting "Come back here you little bitch!" 

Officer Jeffries ran towards them, whipping his gun out of its holster at the same time.  Chelsea kept running, across the street to Gina's house where she banged on the door until Gina's mother let her in.  Chelsea collapsed in her arms, sobbing, as Gina peeked around them through the door and saw Eddie being arrested.

Later that night, some people came to drive Chelsea to her dad's house to stay.  Her mother had been arrested too.  Chelsea was tired from all that happened that day, so many people had her explain over and over again what Eddie had done.  They were also very interested in learning what the last three months had been like in her house with Eddie there.  Now she just wanted to eat something and go to sleep.  She hoped her dad wouldn't be angry with her about what happened.

She crawled into the backseat of the car, clutching her Mickey Mouse doll.  Gina and her mother were standing on the curb; Chelsea waved goodbye to them through the rear window as the car pulled off into the night.

Writing Challenge

My friend DawnMarie  started this Writers Challenge group on Facebook and this is my post from that.

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Okay here goes this weeks challenge for 11/14- 11/20 ~ Good luck, have fun and here is the challenge ...

1) write something funny about yourself !!!or/ plus (either or both is fine)here is the challenge~2) take these three words ~ "blue~sunrise~scent" and make them your own in 50 words or less

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Getting a start on the day

before distractions set in

as they inevitably do.

Doing yardwork at sunrise

when everything is still.....serene.

Mow, rake, sweep....sweat.

The sky turns from rose pink to blue

as the hours pass.

The scents of autumn surround me

and all is right with the world.