Dr. Harrison turned me away. He told me I am not able to do this any more. The operation had taken months and still no change.
I strolled out of the hospital with the help of a Kran nurse; cold and tired. My heart felt heavy and my eyes stunned from the bright light of the sun. I shield my eyes from the rays.
"I am sorry Ms Bohs.."
His words echoed through my head.
"...there's nothing left we can do; we did the best we can. You know what happens, now."
I nodded as I laid there on the bed side. I knew what was going to happen.
I had to go through inspection, again. The government won't allow one of their citizens to walk around looking like a norm. Ever since Yolif came to power, the separation of the Krans and Norms became divided.
She stopped and smiled from behind me. Her long green nurse uniform seemed as if it hasn't been washed for a while. I could see her Krans scar across her belly button. Mine faded away when I was ten years old.
That's the thing about being half kran and norm. It's hard trying to hide from both creatures, especially in Fu-Fu.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Point of View Exercise #9
It snowed today when I was jogging along Pight Avenue. It was white and light. Oddly enough, white objects always seem to be light. At least that's what you always said to me.
You've always loved the snow. You use to keep me up at night talking nonstop about how you loved them. You seemed almost at peace with yourself, talking poetically with so much passion about those little things.
Even though there were people fighting for the phone, you would somehow find time to call me.
"If it snowed in July, would you still like it?" I would ask.
"No," you would reply, "I would love it."
When you hung up, I would send a prayer hoping that you would remain strong and safe.
I jogged up to the corner, still jogging in place to see if it was safe to cross the street. I looked over my left shoulder and spotted a street light with a ton papers taped to it, and chuckled. I remembered how you would tell me stories. Stories about how insane you went when you found out your dog was missing; your voice would rise with excitement.
"She was pure breed white Siberian husky! Who wouldn't want her?! Come on! Help me find her!!!"
You would stand by the corner of Pight Avenue and pass out fliers, determined to get Queen back. I would smile and fall more in love with you by the second.
That was the day I knew I wouldn't want to be with anyone else but you.
I jogged across the street with my pumped red and white running shoes, breathing heavier and heavier with each step.
House one, two, three. I'm here. Home. My hands fell from a griped fist to an open palm. I knelled over and took one last breath of air trying to grasp my breath.
I walked up my white stairs and reached my hand in my pocket to find the house key. I placed my left hand on the doorknob. That's odd. It's unlocked.
I slowly opened it and reached towards the wooden bat on the white porch. Stepping back, I counted. "One, two, three.." I forced my right feet on the center and the door swung open. I jumped in with the bat over my left shoulder, ready for combat.
"What are you doing?"
My stiffed knees went weak. My jaw dropped. I dropped to the ground.
You approached me and placed your arms around me, holding me close.
"You're home.." I managed to say. My voice quaked and I swung my arms around you.
You laughed lightly and said,
"Hey! It's snowing!"
You've always loved the snow. You use to keep me up at night talking nonstop about how you loved them. You seemed almost at peace with yourself, talking poetically with so much passion about those little things.
Even though there were people fighting for the phone, you would somehow find time to call me.
"If it snowed in July, would you still like it?" I would ask.
"No," you would reply, "I would love it."
When you hung up, I would send a prayer hoping that you would remain strong and safe.
I jogged up to the corner, still jogging in place to see if it was safe to cross the street. I looked over my left shoulder and spotted a street light with a ton papers taped to it, and chuckled. I remembered how you would tell me stories. Stories about how insane you went when you found out your dog was missing; your voice would rise with excitement.
"She was pure breed white Siberian husky! Who wouldn't want her?! Come on! Help me find her!!!"
You would stand by the corner of Pight Avenue and pass out fliers, determined to get Queen back. I would smile and fall more in love with you by the second.
That was the day I knew I wouldn't want to be with anyone else but you.
I jogged across the street with my pumped red and white running shoes, breathing heavier and heavier with each step.
House one, two, three. I'm here. Home. My hands fell from a griped fist to an open palm. I knelled over and took one last breath of air trying to grasp my breath.
I walked up my white stairs and reached my hand in my pocket to find the house key. I placed my left hand on the doorknob. That's odd. It's unlocked.
I slowly opened it and reached towards the wooden bat on the white porch. Stepping back, I counted. "One, two, three.." I forced my right feet on the center and the door swung open. I jumped in with the bat over my left shoulder, ready for combat.
"What are you doing?"
My stiffed knees went weak. My jaw dropped. I dropped to the ground.
You approached me and placed your arms around me, holding me close.
"You're home.." I managed to say. My voice quaked and I swung my arms around you.
You laughed lightly and said,
"Hey! It's snowing!"
Voice Exercise #7
Note: In this exercise it says to write about a very confident guy that goes to a party and thinks a girl that he has a crush on is ignoring him. I thought about changing it from a guy perspective to a girl's, but I was having too much fun writing it originally from a male's voice.
Also, remember this is fiction. I mentioned a design in the story--it's not a real one. :D Thank you!
Oh, man. My hand, it's shaking. Ah-why isn't she listening to me? Wait, IS she listening to me? What if she isn't listening? What if she's laughing at me? Does she think I'm boring? W-wh-what if I, I, I'm boring her? I can't bore her! I'm "Thee Guy". Everyone wants a piece of me, even the fellas!
"So, anyway, that was some crazy math test."
I flashed a smile and she tilt her head to her left. Her long hair fell on her right cheek bone slowly. At least I think it was her hair. Wait, was that her shadow? What if it was her shadow? Am I blind? I c-c-can't be blind. I have perfect vision. In fact, I've been having perfect vision. Ever since I was five! That's right. So, it was her hair that fell on her cheek. Right?
"Sure," she said.
Her lips curled out and popped back in. She raised her hand to rub her eye. Her long finger nails were perfectly done--shiny and bright pink. Her round green eyes rolled over to the other room. I quickly took a quick glance at what she was looking at. The room was dark and damp. The air was heavy from all the dancing and I could smell the intense odor of sweat.
I took a bit of my pretzel and turned my attention back to her. By Jove, she's cute. She totally likes me. I can tell. It's all about the body language. Oh, y--e--a--h. Who da man? Me. That's who.
"Hey Ali."
A low voice crept up from behind me.
I turned and went face-to-face with someone's chest. He stunk like skunk and was wearing a Louster design shirt. I could tell, I've always worn that design my Freshman year. Only losers were those kind of designs. Psh, he got nothing on me.
"Hi," she said.
Hi? HI?! HI!!! What is she doing saying "HI" to this Loser?! Did her hair get caught in her eye or something?
"So, what's been going on? How are you?"
What's going on here, Loser, is that I'm talking to her. GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY GIRL!
"Things are going good, how are you?"
Wait, what?! Is this for real? Is she really responding to his lame pick-up lines? Ah, no! No, no, no, no, no!
Is it because I was boring? Is it because I stink? Do I smell?
I raised my arm up just for a quick check. No, I don't smell. I think. I can't tell!
What if she's not interested? That can't be it. Can it? What if she doesn't like me? What happens next? What do I do? Is it because I didn't come off strong enough? Does she think I'm just another Loser?
Two hours later..
As my racing thoughts slowly drained away, I headed towards the exit. The air outside was cold and refreshing. I clasp my cold hands together and wiped off the sweat from my forehead.
This is probably what ugly people have to go through.
Also, remember this is fiction. I mentioned a design in the story--it's not a real one. :D Thank you!
Oh, man. My hand, it's shaking. Ah-why isn't she listening to me? Wait, IS she listening to me? What if she isn't listening? What if she's laughing at me? Does she think I'm boring? W-wh-what if I, I, I'm boring her? I can't bore her! I'm "Thee Guy". Everyone wants a piece of me, even the fellas!
"So, anyway, that was some crazy math test."
I flashed a smile and she tilt her head to her left. Her long hair fell on her right cheek bone slowly. At least I think it was her hair. Wait, was that her shadow? What if it was her shadow? Am I blind? I c-c-can't be blind. I have perfect vision. In fact, I've been having perfect vision. Ever since I was five! That's right. So, it was her hair that fell on her cheek. Right?
"Sure," she said.
Her lips curled out and popped back in. She raised her hand to rub her eye. Her long finger nails were perfectly done--shiny and bright pink. Her round green eyes rolled over to the other room. I quickly took a quick glance at what she was looking at. The room was dark and damp. The air was heavy from all the dancing and I could smell the intense odor of sweat.
I took a bit of my pretzel and turned my attention back to her. By Jove, she's cute. She totally likes me. I can tell. It's all about the body language. Oh, y--e--a--h. Who da man? Me. That's who.
"Hey Ali."
A low voice crept up from behind me.
I turned and went face-to-face with someone's chest. He stunk like skunk and was wearing a Louster design shirt. I could tell, I've always worn that design my Freshman year. Only losers were those kind of designs. Psh, he got nothing on me.
"Hi," she said.
Hi? HI?! HI!!! What is she doing saying "HI" to this Loser?! Did her hair get caught in her eye or something?
"So, what's been going on? How are you?"
What's going on here, Loser, is that I'm talking to her. GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY GIRL!
"Things are going good, how are you?"
Wait, what?! Is this for real? Is she really responding to his lame pick-up lines? Ah, no! No, no, no, no, no!
Is it because I was boring? Is it because I stink? Do I smell?
I raised my arm up just for a quick check. No, I don't smell. I think. I can't tell!
What if she's not interested? That can't be it. Can it? What if she doesn't like me? What happens next? What do I do? Is it because I didn't come off strong enough? Does she think I'm just another Loser?
Two hours later..
As my racing thoughts slowly drained away, I headed towards the exit. The air outside was cold and refreshing. I clasp my cold hands together and wiped off the sweat from my forehead.
This is probably what ugly people have to go through.
Character Exercise #3
Name: Val Tresion
Gender: Female
Age: Unknown
Place of Birth: Rural Area--Oklahoma
Eye Color: Light Brown
Hair Quantity: Thick, wavy dark brown
Unusual facial and bodily features: Wondering right eye
Pet: Cat
Name: Halo
Occupation: Nurse
Location: Queens, New York
Bathing Habits: Early morning shower and late night baths
Allergies: Chocolate
Private Obsession: Collection of Green Stuffed Animals
Sins: Constant Liar
Secret Passion: Making her own socks
Main Frustration: Global Warming and dirty clothes
Gender: Female
Age: Unknown
Place of Birth: Rural Area--Oklahoma
Eye Color: Light Brown
Hair Quantity: Thick, wavy dark brown
Unusual facial and bodily features: Wondering right eye
Pet: Cat
Name: Halo
Occupation: Nurse
Location: Queens, New York
Bathing Habits: Early morning shower and late night baths
Allergies: Chocolate
Private Obsession: Collection of Green Stuffed Animals
Sins: Constant Liar
Secret Passion: Making her own socks
Main Frustration: Global Warming and dirty clothes
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