2017. It's interesting all of the things that can happen in such a short amount of time.
Sometimes I feel silly trying to write something for this blog. I have a an enormous amount of stories that need to be published, yet I don't want to put them out there. Funny right? Whats the point of a blog if you don't write anything? Oh well.

Blind Relationships

I sat on the carpeted floor of my Dad’s basement, papers that I had pulled from a little tan filing cabinet were spread around my legs. The file that they had come from had been about my parents divorce; a subject that I thought I knew everything about. My mother had been so open and honest when my two sisters and I asked questions as we grew older. She often spoke about how my dad had lied and cheated his way out of insurance and out of child support. She explained in detail about all the wrongs our father had done and in our young eyes our mother was a brave, strong, truthful, woman who would do anything for her daughters. At church on Sundays the ladies would whisper about what an amazing and inspirational christian she was and we all believed she was perfect.

It’s funny how often a little distance is required from a situation to be able to see the truth.

This is where I learned that.

“Time to get up.”

My mother had thrown open the door, letting the light from the hallway in. I cringed at the harshness of the light on my face and snuggled deeper into my warm blanket. That morning she seemed extra irritated and  I knew that I had about 1 minute before she would begin yelling at me. I slid out of bed my bare legs getting goosebumps as the cold air greeted me. I grabbed a pair of sweats from the floor and shook them, making sure there were no spiders, and then put them on. I trudged up stairs dreading this part of my morning.

Joining my sisters I sat at the table while my mother read from the scriptures. I could tell that she was in a particularly foul mood. In fact she practically had steam coming out of her ears. I remember wondering how in the world she could already be mad, no one had even spoken to her yet. After she finished with the scriptures my mother passed out the hymn books. This was it, the worst part of my morning. My mother expected her daughters to sing hymns every morning and if you didn’t sing loud enough or nice enough she made you start over. In her mind reading the scriptures and singing hymns at such an ungodly hour would not only bring the Holy Ghost into the house it would make her daughters smarter.

You want to know what singing in the morning did to me? It made me tired and pissed off, but I put up with it because I knew better than to try and fight my mother because she would always have the last word and in her house you never got away with any sort of behavior that in her saintly mind was deemed “evil”.

Well this particular morning I knew she was going to come after us. She was going to use any and every excuse in the book to make us suffer. Finally we had finished singing the last hymn and I knew that if I closed my book to fast or too loud she would take it as a sign of me rebelling. Taking special precautions I made sure to close my book like a normal person. Sure enough I saw her head snap up from across the table.

“Open your books.” She seethed. “Another song.”

I stared at her and then tried to explain that I hadn’t slammed my book and that she was being unfair. She wouldn’t hear any of it and demanded that we sing.

That was it.

This was the moment that I decided to stand up to my mother for real for the first time in 19 years.

I simply looked at her and closed my book. Standing up I moved to go back down stairs to my bedroom. Suddenly she was in my way. Her eyes were lit with a fury that I had often seen when she was mad at me.

“You’re out!” She growled. “You have till 10 to pack all of your stuff before I throw it all on the lawn.” My mother knew that she had no control over me now that I was older. I payed my own bills and owned my very own car and wouldn’t let her take any of that away. Living in her house was the only control over me that she had left.

Still when she said those words my stomach dropped. But I kept a calm face and refused to let any tears fall because I didn’t want her to feel like she had beaten me. Quietly I went down stairs and stood in the middle of a bedroom that was no longer mine. It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m. and I had to find a new place to live.

I texted my dad, afraid that I might wake him, explaining the situation. In a matter of minutes he was calling, telling me to pack up my stuff and live to come with him. Isn’t it funny how the man I was taught to see as evil automatically jumped to my rescue? After a morning of tears and packing I managed to move my stuff to my dads. And that is where I currently live.

The papers that I had pulled from the filing cabinet were letters written back and forth between my mother and father. I put a hand over my mouth as I read one of the letters that had been written to my mother(the letters were all copies). In one of the letters my father begged my mother, asking her to provide the correct information so that he could get his daughter's health insurance. Interestingly my mother had raised me believing that he was the one that had refused to get us insurance. I read a lot of letters similar to that one that night and I sobbed while while I held those papers in my hand The picture of a man that my mother had created and expanded upon for so many years was a lie. Her letters to my father were curt and brief, no feeling came from its lines.

I suddenly could look back on my childhood and see so many different lies that I had been fed. It’s funny how a little distance will show you who a person is, sometimes you can be so caught up in the moment or with a person that you can’t see what is actually staring you in the face. My relationship with my father was very basic while growing up(I’m still not grown up) and I couldn’t see how much my own mother was hurting me. I was blind to the damage that she inflicted on me. I still love my mother but I’ve come to realize that I need space to grow and learn and that when I am with her I am beaten down without even realizing it.

Build It

   Have you ever just had the feeling that you can build anything as long as you had the tools for it? Because for most of my life that is exactly how I felt. That is until I bought my self some Ikea furniture.  Let me tell you something. Ikea furniture was spawned from hell! I truly believe that who ever came up with the idea for Ikea wanted to see the world burn... Well one day I decided to act like a grown up and buy my self a dresser and another weird set of skinny drawers. So I find the furniture that will fit perfectly into my room and I drive happily over to the store to pick it up. My first problem was how heavy the boxes were! I swear each of them weighed about 80 lbs.
          I finally get them back to my house and take the boxes into my tiny room so that I can start building. At this time I was so excited to build something with my own two hands, I felt like a freaking superhuman! I don't know why it felt so awesome, but it did. So I open up the dresser boxes and began sorting out all of the different pieces of wood and metal, I was feeling like a boss. Well I actually began putting it all together and let me tell you what! I hate building things! I stabbed my finger with the screw  driver like 20 times, and yes I cried! I was so frustrated with the 10,000 screws that came with the damn thing! The Ikea booklet came with a picture of two people smiling, meaning that it required another person to help build it. Well I was on my own and I was miserable. Actual it took me about a week to build it because I would get so frustrated and angry with the thing that I would just give up and walk away. But when I finished the dresser I felt like a freaking boss!
           The next week I built another set of drawers. Again I smashed my fingers, but I managed to finish that set in about two hours. The problem with me is that sometimes I feel like I have the memory of a goldfish because I quickly forget how much I have hurt my hands and then I want to build something again. This is a sad cycle that I never seem to be able to get out of because about two weeks ago I built a garden in my back yard and ended up with a bunch of painful calluses on my hands. I have no idea what I will build next but I do know that I will probably end up hurt and I will most likely end in tears again. But at the end I will be a freaking super boss and I will feel so awesome that next week I will probably build something else and start the whole cycle over again.

The Sink

     Two things that should be known about where I live.
1. I live by a field and a canal so we do get mice, rats, and snakes in our house. (Eww)
2. I live in a house with only females
     Because my house is full of women our bathroom drains tend to get seriously clogged. My mother is a brave and resourceful woman who takes apart the bathroom drains and cleans every last hair out. Its disgusting and I tend to be in the opposite end of the house when she takes on that particular task.
     Well the other day I came home from school and as soon as I came in the door my mother was calling into the bathroom to look at something. I responded by telling her that there was nothing in the bathroom that I would want to come and see. She made me come in anyway. In her hands was a pink bucket and inside was a black clump. Well she was poking at it. Gross I know. Then she looked up at me and said.
   "We had a snake in our drain. Look at the snake skin"
I almost gagged and quickly left the bathroom. I do not understand how she was not disgusted by it. Motherhood I guess.
   So later that afternoon my little sister came home from school and my mom was showing her pictures of the snake skin.
My little sister looked at my mom and said. "That's not a snake skin, that's a decomposing snake."
I'm assuming that all of the soaps and fruity smelling products that washed down the drain on a regular basis hid the smell.
   I'm assuming the snake came from the field and found its way into our sewer and into our pipes.
Seriously, I am so grossed out by it... Just the thought of it dying while I was washing my face makes me nauseous.

The Stalking Chihuahua

So I have a pet chihuahua and I believe that he is plotting my death.

This story is a very short one because it is not yet finished.
So the reason that I believe that my chihuahua is plotting to kill me is because of how he behaves around me. When my family is home he always cuddles with me and whines for attention but when my family leaves he acts differently. I will be walking around my house minding my own business and doing whatever the heck that I usually do and then I will see my little dog. He will be in odd places watching me, around dressers or walls but always at a distance. He wont move when I call to him and just continues to stare at me. If its not creepy enough that he watches me from around corners and furniture but he always squints his eyes and it makes his adorable face look angry. He never wags his tail and he never comes when I call. Then my family comes home and we are best friends again. But as soon as they leave it goes back to the stalking and the death glares.
So he has to be plotting something, and naturally I believe that it is to kill me.

I Have a Ghost

Have you ever walked into an empty house and felt like you are being watched? Have you ever sensed that someone was standing next to you when you are in an empty room. How about when your things going missing when you know that you left them in a certain spot?

OH! You have? I guess that it seems like at least once in our short lives we experience the extra terrestrial.

Well lately I have become to feel like I have a ghost in my house. Not the haunting, evil, going to murder you in your sleep kind but more of the kind of ghost that seems to just simply exists. I guess it doesn't have any vendetta against my family because no one is dead.

Let me give you some of the evidence that has led me to believe that a ghost has taken up residence inside of my house.

Evidence #1
 It all started at the beginning of school. Every day my little sisters alarm would go off at 12:30 p.m.
That's not weird. You may think and I agree its not very weird.
Whats weird is that  it would randomly not beep at 12:30 and instead it would start around 12:04. I would have to go into the basement all by my self and turn it off. Opening the door to her dark room actually terrified me.

Evidence #2
My little sister used to come into my room in the morning, when we went to the same school, and we would do our hair and make up together. Since we don't go to school together any more and I now sleep in, she has no reason to be in my room and when she was done with school I was usually at work. Well the body length mirror that she and I used to spend our time in front of gets really dusty, and I'm to lazy to dust it off all the time. One day when I woke up I saw what looked like fingers dragged down through the dust of just a tiny part of my mirror. I totally understand if you are skeptical about this because it honestly could have easily been some one in my family. I don't even have full faith that it is the ghost. I just don't know who did it.

Evidence #3
Usually when I go to school I close my door. Its an old habit from when I had my dog Rex who would jump on the bed and rip the mattress. Well it was about two weeks ago that this incident happened. I was ready to go to school and I left my room, closing the door behind me. I went up stairs and said goodbye to my mom. She works from home often and happened to be home today. My other two sisters were gone, one being at work and the other at school. Well, I left and went to class like normal, after class I came home and grabbed my lunch. When I had  put together what ever I was going to be eating I brought my food into my moms office and sat on the couch so we could talk.
Into our conversation she stopped and said something weird.
"Guess what." She said.
I replied, asking "what?".
She then explained rather nonchalantly how when I was at school she heard my bedroom door open and then close.
I freaked and was like "It was the ghost! Ewwww it was in my room!"
She laughed it off and so did I knowing she didn't believe in it.
But I believe that the ghost did it.

Evidence#4
The other day I was getting ready for work, putting my make up on in front of the mirror in my room. Well the house phone started to ring. I happen to have one of the multiple house phones in my room and when I looked at the phone i freaked! It was the house phone calling the house phone!
Of course I didn't answer it! I was way too freaked to have a conversation with a ghost.
Now my little sister was home at the time so I naturally ran to her and tried to confront her about what I thought was her playing a prank. Well she had been playing a game on the Xbox and denied it, then she accused me of messing around. So I grabbed the phone from my room and scrolled to the caller ID and showed her that the house called us. After I went to work and told my coworkers I found out that it is actually impossible to call your phone from your phone. Naturally I went home and tried. All it does is give you a busy signal , with out the call going through. Obviously it was the ghost.

Evidence#5
This is the scariest story that I have.
So I was home alone sitting in my bedroom on my bed. The door was open and my dog sat on my lap sleeping. Well from the hallway came the sound of someone moving. It was quiet, and really only sounded like the whispering noise that clothes make when you move, mainly pants rubbing against each other when you walk. I am in the basement and the stairs leading up are next to my room.
So I hear the rustle of clothes and then it sounded like someone almost put their full weight on the bottom step of the stair. Well I could have just been imagined it but I didn't. My little dog had woken up and was staring at my wall. On the opposite side of the wall was the stairs where we heard the noise.
Suddenly I had a really sickening feeling that someone was looking in my room from the hall way. I was too scared to move for a minute, till finally I got the courage to jump off of my bed and close my door.
I know that all houses creak and make weird noises, but mine doesn't make sounds like some one is walking in my basement!

Evidence#6
Just last night my little sister and I were painting a book shelf. Well at four o'clock this morning everyone was woken by a huge bang. The bookshelf had fallen over. What I don't understand is why would it fall over at four in the morning? So my theory is that the ghost pushed it!


This is my evidence for the ghost living in my house. Believe it or not, because I don't care what you think about this! I know there is a ghost! He may not be evil or out to get us ghost but he is real.

Oh! I forgot to mention that in the place that I live in now, once had a suicide in it... Are you convinced?

The Hand

This story begins on a rainy evening as my little sister and I sat on the couch and watched the anime version of Romeo and Juliet. My older sister had come home and was sitting in our living room because our neighbor (who is also a mechanic) was working on her car. She had taken my car to work for the day I had been left home to while away in my boredom.

 On these particular days when I am bored, for the life of me I never seem to do anything productive; including making my own meals. So for dinner I had a glass of milk and an amazing sugar cookie. We had kept the window open so that the heavy rain could add its alluring sound to our movie. Well during our movie my oldest sister kept opening up the door to ask us a question or retrieve an object from the room, when she left she always left the door open!

You're probably thinking "Well would it really matter if the door was left open?" Well for one I live in a duplex, meaning that my house is split down the middle with a wall and other people live on the opposite side of that wall. So we try to be courteous and attempt to keep all movies, music, and singing from reaching the intensity of bothering my sweet neighbors. So naturally the TV was not turned up to loud. Again you probably think "Okay, but why can't she leave the door open?" Well my second reason is that outside of the room that we were currently residing in is our SWAMP COOLER. For those of you who don't know, swamp coolers are LOUD! Also because they really don't work all that well they never stop! It's a constant phshshshshshsh grrrrraaaaa pspspsspps. All. Day. Long. 

So now begins the truly terrifying story of what happened to me on a gloomy and rainy Monday night. My eldest sister opened the door again and asked us where the torch is. While I took a huge bite of my cookie my little sis told her that it was in our mothers’ room. Well again she turned away and DIDN”T CLOSE THE DOOR! At the exact same time my little sis and I yelled “DUUUUDE!!” This is the moment that it all happened. A big black hand reached into the room and closed the door. We both screamed that weird scream that you do when you have food in your mouth and you try not to have it all spill out onto your lap! Being that my house hold is made up of four white girls we are not accustomed to having random strangers in our house so when the hand that we both expected to be our sisters turned out to be a stranger, we freaked out. Well at the last moment before the door closed I saw his face. It was Jordan, my neighbor and best friend who lives across the street. His dad is the one who was fixing my older sisters car so it was natural for Jordan to be helping out, and he had come inside to ask for our flashlight.

We were so embarrassed when we finally finished screaming. When we finally came out of the room Jordan was talking to my sister and I was red in the face from trying to keep back my awkward laughter.

Well I’m and awkward person and I know it and at times like those I really show it.