She doesn't know

My radio blasts with a song talking aboout a beautiful girl. Facebook pictures are commented on and the lucky ones get comments that say "you're beautiful" or "you're gorgeous." My fingers flutter across the pages of magazines as I agreesivaly flip through them. But while one hand holes the magazine, the other lingers over my stomach. The TV blares in the background but only one particular commericial catches my attention, a short girl, with large bust, long wavy blonde hair, and a neon yellow bathing suit shoves a finger at me and stares directly into my eyes. "Do you wanna lose wieght? But don't know how??" her squeky voice pures through the speakers. "Well then they thin-fast, it's proven to completely eliminate hunger and make you as skinny as me!" a 1-800 number flashes across the bottom of the screen as the girl turns to the side and puts her hand on her rail thing waist. She doesn't know. I sish as I look down to the glossy magazine cover, another beautiful girl stares at me, but this girl has flowing brown hair that cascades over her shoulder and down her light blue tank top. Her eyes glow as her skin stretches across her cheek bones to break her plump lips into a smile.She doesn't know. I trudge to the bathroom and step onto the scale, FAT is all I see when I look at the number, the number that any it's said in math class I wince, the number that haunts and dictates my life. I slowly slip off my sweats and pull my T-shirt over my head.

As I drop my shirt to the floor I look in the mirror. My hair is flat and thin, my eyes are dark and small and the beags under them make the skin on my cheeks look stretched tight and my lips thing and small. My mom calls to me that dinner is ready and my wraspy, weak voice echoes throughout the small room as I call to her and say "I'm not hungry". A lie, but she doesn't know. I slowly turn back to my refelction, my collar bone pertrudes out and my stomach seems to be collapsed in beneath my rib cage, easily seen beneath the colorless skin stretched across them. My shoulders round over as my long arms rest beside me, my elbows and wrists awkwardly stick out and my fingers are long and delicate. My legs shake and look so breakable beneath my weak structure. I turn the knob on the shower and cold water rushes from the faucet.

It seemed to have taken all my energy to twist the handle and I sit down next to the toilet. The cool tile beneath me give me goose bumps, I have been here so many times before. A familiar voice echoes through my head, "you'll never be popular, you're to fat and ugly" a lost friends words as so harsh and cold. She doesn't know. It's so familiar the way my stomach clenches and my head thrusts forward as I let todays meal spill into the toilet; but I have not eaten all day. So as steam pores out of the shower and I try to stand up my legs give out and my head hits the hard, sharp edge of the counter. My eye sight goes as I collapse in a heap on the floor.

What have I done? Sirens, sobs, and scattered and blured lights flash all around me. And when my eyes open, hours later, a fuzzy hospital room, tubes, and tears, streaked down my families face, appear. My mom reaches out her hand and as I push through the air to grasp it my fingers seem to crack as I wrap them around hers and my arm falls limp beside me as her eyes gloss over again, I do not even have the strength to lift my arm. And so I let my body be surronded by the sweet smell of clean sheets, and my head be encase by the pillow. My eye lids weigh so much but they start to beat rapidly, desperatly trying to stay open as the doctor appears in the doorway. My parenst heads whip to the side as he clears his throat, I hear a shuffle of feet and a quiet whisper "she doesn't know, but what she's doing is killing her" one last deep sigh escapes my lips as I let my body fall into the bed and I fall into a deep sleep. Sleeping beauty, a damsel in distress, only her true loves kiss could wake her, and so maybe it was delirum of medicine or just simply a dream but as the nurse slowly tilted my head up and slowly stuck a needle into my arm I felt as if she was really a fairy god mother there to awaken me from such an awful nightmare. But as my eyes opened and my head clears I look down at my brittle body, a thin line between the sheets and bed. As I look into the eyes of the nurse they aren't the kind ones, the sympathetic ones that you hope will look down upon you, especially the ones of your care giver. No they were cold and looked down at me like I was some sort of monster, "we'll set up a plan for your eating and treatments after you've recieved all the fluids you need", her monotone voice seems to resignant throughout the room as her chubby stomach bumps into the bed side and she plunks out of the room. She doesn't know.

Days drag on in a blur and doctors talk in terms that I can't understand. One thing I know for sure, my organs have been shutting down due to my lack of nutrients, basically my heart was stopping because I didn't have food in my stomach. Maybe that was why I was in so much emotional pain, or maybe it's just because no one knows. No one knows what it's like to be called to big or to ugly to fit in or have friends. No one knows what it's like to not be able to go swimming or wear tight clothing because of peers hurtful comments. And no one knows what it's like to go to bed, hungry, sick, sobbing, and unwanted in society.

When I'm finally strong enough to leave the hospital and go home my parents carefully watch over me. It's as if at any minute I'll break, or the delicate skin that barely holds me together will shed, leaving my vital organs open and they will have to protect me from harm until I re-grow skin. This time skin that glows and has color and is strong enought to hold me together. But weeks later my mom does the un-thinkable, after weeks of being attached to her hip, being force fed, and missing school, she lets me walk through the store on my own. A simple yet sweet freedom. But as I walk through the aisle filled with all sorts of fruits and vegetables sprawled out in wonderful assortments on various carts and shelves I realize that I am alone and lost. I have not been to a store to buy food in so long that it is a completely foreign subject to me and as I read carefully all the labels and gaze at the bright reds, neon yellows, and vibrant greens that make up the rainbow with in the store I feel uncomfortable. I shift back and forth on my feet as then decide to run back to the safety of my mom, but as I turn I bump into something much smaller then even myself. I gasp, and my hand reaches out in front of me to catch myself, "oh I'm so sorry" I quickly apologize as I look down. A lady, a few inches shorter than me, with radiant white, short hair and even wider large teeth that glow in her wide spread mouth stares up at me. Her rosy red cheeks, wrinkle as a smile breaks across her face. "Beautiful, absolutely beautiful" she breathes, "wh-what?" I stutter. "Why sweet heart, you're gorgeous" I try to pull myself together as I barely let the words press from my mouth "thank you," "thank you so much." But my shock and disbelief must be very apparent for she lightly touches my arm and softly says "your welcome sweetie, now no matter what don't you dare let anyone tell you anything different." And just like that she pushed her shopping cart down the aisle and around the corner, seeming to be floating instead of walking. My first compliment since I can remember, the one thing that I needed most in the world, my gaurdian angel. She didn't know, and yet somehow, she knew.

Night is a moment in it's own

It's that perfect time of night, when the dogs snoring and the clocks ticking, and you tip toe down stairs in your sweat shirt, that you pulled on because the air frosted the windows and sent a chill down you're spine as you breathe fogged the window that looked out into an empty dim lit, glowing, pouring street. and yet you put nothing else on because the house is so still you don't fear anyone, or anything else. You're feet creek arcoss the floor as you grab a glass from the cabnet and take a moment to breathe as water trickles slowly from the filter. Somethings on the counter catches your eye and the filter shouts off adbruptly and the fridge hums to live as you pull your cup away. Cookies, chocolate chip, they are placed perfectly in a circle on the plate and they are warm and ready for the taking. And so you grab two because you know that no body will know (except the scale). You flick off the lights with your elbow for your arms are preoccupied and you race up the stairs through the dark of the night so that the demons and horrors of the shadows of night won't grab you. And as you click your door shut behind you, you collapse onto the bed, the rain has stopped now and the mist sets heavy over the pavement. The trees shadows seem larger in the dim lighting and as you devoure the cookies and gulp down the milk you wrap up in your comforter and pull your stuffed animal close. A used worn out animal, one with matted down fur and ripped seams. It's eyes are sad and have grow tired over the years, as have yours and you seem to look back at yourself in the reflection, but that's impossible because the lighting is not bright enough for your eyes to reflect in the beads mounted above it's crocked nose and tilted smile. You flick your light off and lay down, a passing cars head lighs illuminate the room for a moment so that God can see the tear as it falls from your cheek and so delicately rests in the palm of your hand that cups your face. You roll over to escape the world and pure, uninterupted silence encases you. And yet the darkness and despaire does not come, you wait and then tilt your head from the muffled cries and suficating pillow to see that the street light lights up the small, dark beads on your stuffed animals face. The eyes are looking off into the distance, out the window to somewhere far away, and yet the light is shinning on you.

Grown up. As the gleaming eyes of young children stare into the glittering, paper wrapped, packages in window displays at the mall adults may turn their heads away and laugh to themselves for they know that Santa is not real. As children splash and play in the surf and build castles out of sand that fill every inch of their bodies from the tips of thier eye lashes to in between their toes, adults may set down a fresh beach towel and lather on the SPF as they squint down at a novel. Is that what growing up is about? Does being a grown up mean you've simply just lost the innocence of jumping into a pile of leaves, or fresh from the dryer, warm, pile of clothes. If so then I wish to never grow up. Grown up have diplomas and cars and jobs, their parents can tell their friends that their son or daughter is successful and that they are proud. So is making your parents proud and being secure what being a grown up is about? Being a grown up seems to have secret rules, it's a responsibility and duty of it's own.
Rules of being a grown up:
1. Once you are over the age of 18 you are not a grown up you are an adult and once you're over the age of 60 you're not old you're a senior.
2. You must have a steady income and be a participating member in society even if you do not enjoy your career or the activities you partake in.
3. You must have a house with two to four bed rooms and a sizeable kitchen and gathering area for parties in which you will have small talk that pertain to subjects completely irrelevant to things that actually consern, intrest, or intrigue you.
4. You must smile and encourage child like activites from children but most not actually believe in or not put a logical explanation behind things like the Easter bunny, tooth fairy, and even the magic of Disneyland.
5. You must keep your composure, unless you are under the influence of alcohol in which case is the only time you may have an excuse not to support everyone and may sing, dance, laugh, and scream all you wish.
6. You must never ever speak of the adult rules, break them, or seem as if you are scared or don't completely understand what to do.

18th birthdays can mean death to many when they are handed bills and choices that they are not prepared for. Being an adult can be scary and dreadful if these are the rules we all live by. But I know people and parents and adults that live by these rules everyday and yet still are more child like an irresponsible then some of the people who live by a completely different set of rules. I don't believe that to be an adult you must be able to support a family or have settled down like most of society and our culture tell us we have to have had done to be offically accepted and grown up. I believe that a parent may be proud and you may be considered an adult when you make your bed without being asked, you learn on your own and excel in your work because you enjoy and are good at what you do, when you spend your money in places that matter. You're an adult when you can put your heart and soul into something and fall head first into relationships, friendships, beliefs, and other such things. And then when you can teach and lead by example of being happy, true to yourself, and standing up for what is right.

I'm only fifteen but why can I not welcome adulthood into my life today?

Wow. Spring Break. Probably THE most overrated week of the entire year. Where everyone travels to nice places and do stupid things. A week where people cant even remember half of what goes on because they are soo drunk all the time. All spring break does is make students want summer more. So when we go back to school, we loose focus and wear inappropriate clothing hoping warm weather will come sometime soon. Yeah, spring break really has no use other than to give lazy ass teachers a break. Im not saying i dont like it, it just has no use. Most of my spring breaks in the past have been pretty boring. Since i cant drive and my parents are at work all day, i usually just stay home and watch my 3 brothers. But this spring break was different. Before the break started, me and da krew created a list of things we needed to do over break. It was a pretty long list that was almost impossible to accomplish it all in one week. So even though we probably only tackled a few of those things on the list, i think we accomplished something that is way more important than "getting a spray tan" or "going swimming." We became a family, an ohana. Throughout the entire spring break, da krew and i hung out with the guys. At the beginning, it was all about having the guys on our side and not on BBB's side. It was about trying to impress the guys so eventually we would all date. As adorable as that sounds, by the end of the break, we realized this is not what its about. It about having true friends to go to. Its about having friends that you are so close to, you consider them family. After having a week full of flirty, crazy, tp-ing fun with all the guys, it took us till last night to realize that we dont want it to be a competition or having to try to impress eachother all the time. Its about being a family. Thats what we want, an ohana. On friday, we all went to tp HAB's house. When we were getting out of the car, drew randomly said "ohana means family, and family means no one gets left behind." It was an inspiring moment for all of us, especially because you would never picture that coming from drew's mouth. Although it was cute at the time, we never expected it to be true. On saturday night, we were all invited to go to kirsten's house with everyone from school. Sadly enough, HAB happend to be there. Trying to avoid all drama and rude comments, we just wanted to have a fun time. Well as crazy as it sounds, we were not wanted at kirsten's. The time we were in there was probably the most awkward 5 minutes of my life. Everyone just stared at us wondering when we were going to leave. So me and da krew just walked out. The best part is that the ohana followed us. Drew, devin, and nick came with us because ohana means family, and family means no one left behind. With no where to go and being forced to stay outside in the freezing cold, the ohana still came with us. It was this moment when we all began to realize we were all family. All the guys could have stayed at kirsten's were it was warm but no. They chose to come with us. We were all hanging out at the park, having care-free fun together. But then everyone from kirsten's house came to the park. We could tell they were just looking for trouble. Suddenly, all our fun we were having just turned into akwardness. After a few minutes, HAB just start yelling at Drew. The poor kid was already having a bad night and he didnt need their bitchyness. After continuous back and forth yelling between the two groups, they all left. As they start walking away, it suprised us all that taten stayed with us. This was the moment that was probably the most beautiful of the entire week. Although it was the most annoying and awkward, it showed the true meaning of ohana. I am so glad to know that i wil always have my ohana to back me up. When anyone in the ohana is being picked on or having troubles with family at home, we know that we can all come together and just have no worries and be there for eachother. We are family, we are ohana, and NO ONE, no matter what, will get left behind.

Thanks to the ohana and especially da krew, for giving me the best spring break of my life.

By: Kaylie (my bestest friend!!)

Happiness is addicting

Today my friend asked me if I "ever felt like I was alone?" I told him that yes, in fact most of my life felt like I was completely alone. That no one cared what I did and that if I messed up no one would be there for me. And just as I told him this I was explaining to my friend that in student government we took stress tests and I scored 126 points higher than the most extreme stress level. My Taylor Swift playlist ended and I switched to my party, hip-hop playlist just as our conversation shifted to talking about how carefree our lives would be when we could finally drive without a screaching mom in the passenger seat, and just a permit sitting in our wallet. And as we discussed our inevitable future we forgot about college and work and grades and the scares and horrors of growing up and focused on the parties and friends and carefree nights soon to come. And I became elated with the idea of being permenantly happy.
The one question that we seemed to continuously be answering even though no one had stated it was, what is happiness? We kept saying how excited we were for the day when we could all be in the car, wind on our faces, hair blowing everywhere, looking beautiful, music blasting, food being devoured, and the feeling of the car wheels breezing over the pavement as we raced towards a party. Is that happiness? Is make up and hip-hop lyrics the key to being free and happy? Or is this just a false happiness? A cover up? A drug?
Happiness is addicting. Weather it's false like an infatuation with another that brings butterflies and smiles, but ends with shattered hearts, broken promises, and emptiness, or it's the true pure feeling within your soul that awakens who you are and frees your spirit it's the one thing we all strive for. Life fullfilment is up for everyones own interpetation, career, love, kids, education, they can move us forward or stunt our growth depending upon many different variables, but friends, real relationships with others, achievement, celebration and true rich happiness is no doubt the answer to everything, the purpose and meaning of life.  The one thing that we can't get enough of, the one thing that all our money and time goes towards is happiness. But most of us don't know what that is, we put money towards materials and objects that have no meaning, we put our time towards making that money or trying to get a better education so that we can get a better job to make more money. History is supposed to teach us, and yet we can't see the fact that the present is hitting us right in the face with a lesson of it's own! Money is not happiness! Partying and material things are not happiness. Living in the moment is happiness, being fully present and engaged in everything that you do is happiness. School is there to teach and educate and the only way to ace that test is to fully learn, process, apply, and enjoy the subjects being presented to you. Work is there to make money but the only way to advance in your career is to enjoy the task that you're doing and every motion and action that goes along with it. Parties are ment for false fun and enjoyment, but to be responsible and surrounded by the ones you have real connections and relationships with is to be truely happy. People may look at a car full of teens and say that they're just being young and will grow out of it and realize that parties are frivolous, dangerous, and not good for you. But really I hope I never out grow out of sneeking around and breaking the rules, then screaming and squeling and every sound of a car pulling up or footsteps down the stairs, I hope I never outgrow the feeling of butterflies as the boy in the hall nods and winks at me, I hope I never outgrow dancing around to a steady bass and spinning until my hair whips my face and the world falls out from under my feet, and I hope I never out grow that moment where I throw your head back so far and laugh so hard that an irrepressable snort escapes my mouth and my eyes wrinkle at the corners.
So what we're addcited to happiness? So what we live our lives carefree in a car full of clothes, make up, Chic-fil-a, and giggling girls? Live life! It's addicting to be alive and happy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XM-awdgZ_8w&feature=BF&list=PL521DBE7268178466&index=98

Thank you Kaylie for giving me this song and opening your house to us, thank you to da krew for giving me true happiness, an unbreakable bond between sisters, and a regret free life.

The boy who cried wolf

"If I tell you I love you, can I keep you forever?"
                         -Casper
"I wanna grow old with you"
                         -The wedding singer
"Death can not stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while"
                         -The Princess Bride
"Love is like the wind, you can't see it, but you can feel it"
                         -A walk to remember
"Love is a strong word."
                         -My Ex-boyfriend

"I love you." the posion so easily seeps through his mouth and rests on the crevices of his lips as they press against mine. And I easily mistake the burns that scorch my lips for the exciting, sparks of love in his kiss.

Heart break. It comes quickly, it hits hard. He lied. How could he love me when he can just click his phone off so easily, he sighs "I'm sorry I have to do this"  LIE!

"Wolf, help! There's a wolf" three times the little boy cried, and on the third and true time he was left helpless.

"I love you", "I'm in love with you", "Forever,unconditionally", no matter how many forms it comes in, a promise can only be broken so many times. A lie can only be believed for so long.

One strike. Two more to go before I'm out. Before I don't believe or fall for those words again. Three words. Eight letters. Three chances. The boy cried wolf, I believed him.

candy hearts, toy hearts, my heart.

He broke up with me. A month later everyone got candy hearts on valentines day. Everyone, except me. A month later I gave up on guys all together and decided that I didn't care about them anymore. A day later I fell for him.

He's playing with my heart, and I know it. He's messing with the little strings that grasp for anything they can to keep my heart from tearing. And just to protect that delicate little heart I'll give him a million excuses:
-He just got out of a bad relationship
-He just want's to keep it casual so know one gets hurt
-We're not offical so he doesn't really have to tell other people about us
-I hang out with other guys so he can hang out with other girls
-He didn't actually promise that he'd hang out with me, he just said maybe
-He already had plans set up for a while and he doesn't want to invite me cause it's just a "guy thing"
-He just forgot to text me back because he's super busy
I'll stop before my nose grows long. But you know something? No matter how many times people tell me that he still wants to be with her, or that he's not good for me, I fall for him. I fall for him and his lies. He walks past me in the hall, not even a smile or a slight grin breaks across his face as he brushes past me and as I look back over my shoulder just to catch a glimpse of him, I run into the senior stopped in the middle of the hallway just waiting for an excuse to tell someone off, and as I take the abuse of upper classmen he breezes away not even flinching or glancing back. I'll tease him about it later, "you are so oblivious in the hall!" I'll cry and he'll force a laugh and say "oh well, you know if I wasn't so busy I'd always stop and talk to you but I'm always in such a hurry!" and it won't even matter that his excuse was so poorly formed that my friends are literally shaking me to get me to realize that he's ALWAYS late to class because he stops to talk.... to her. No, it won't matter because I'm a dummy. Yep, that's right, a flat out dumb butt dummy! I've fallen for him. This isn't a candy or a toy, it's my heart. And it's in his hands.

Porcelain Skin

You won't be fifteen forever. But you'll always be in the same skin. You'll always have the same eyes, the same body, the same heart. There's a million clichés about loving who you are, and being yourself. And everyone gets sick and tired of hearing about it because half of us don't know who we are! I'm just a teenage girl trying to make my way in the world, this is my blog, this is me. A bad breakup won't guarantee the fact that I'll be more careful next time and won't get my heart broken, a bad grade won't make me do more homework and gets straight A's, and saying I'm sorry doesn't mean I won't make mistakes again. But I learn and grow with each new experience and day, and each new Taylor Swift song that comes out or each new Justin Bieber movie that "changes my life" helps me get a little bit closer to understanding what exactly it is that I'm supposed to be doing in this world. I have fears, and I make mistakes, and I'm breakable. The wrong word or a cold stare can shatter my world, and break the crystals that so delicately hold me together. But porcelain skin is not just my story, it's everyones, everyones skin may not be a doll faced cream color but we're all breakable, we all have skin that can be cut and marked. And at one point we're all the doll that is outgrown and set aside, at one point no one wants to play with us or include us in their story, but a doll never loses her smile, no matter how dusty her porcelain skin may become.

I don't feel invisible, I feel erased

I don't fee invisiblel, I feel erased.
I wans't the girl who ever thought she'd be replaced.
I remember seeing your face for the first time,
being "us" flew by so fast,
now you and I are a thing of the past,
you don't even remember who I am,
it's like you're looking at something disgusting when you see me,
you don't remember that I'm part of what "we" used to be,
that first time I saw you in the hall,
you nodded your head, with earphones still playing,
"never thought I'd recieve that last phone call" is all I keep saying,
you asked if I "had anyone special for the dance?"
I did't even like you at first, not until that night I gave you a chance,
and other girls, they stop and stare,
but you don't even notice, you don't even care,
I wans't invisible, I was right there,
gave you the power to walk right in and out of my life,
I couldn't respond, couldn't breath, your last words cut like a knife,
I wasn't the girl who thought she'd ever be replaced,
I don't feel invisible, I feel erased.

Wishing for right now

My hair cascaded down my back as I brushed it off my freckled bare shoulder, and I shivered a little bit as the breeze from the cracked open door down the hallway tickled my neck. My feet click, clacked as I strolled around the corner, towards the stair case.And my eyes gleamed as I glanced sideways at my refelction in the trophy case that jutted out from the wall to the left of me. It wasn't necessarily the best day for me, my face wasn't cluttered with eye liner and blush but it wasn't fresh and clean either. And my forehead had a new mosqitoe bite sized, red, and irritated mark, that not even the acne cleanser, commercials, and celebrities swore by could get rid of it. I tried to adjust my loose t-shirt and jeans to fit just right but lost hope after a cute athlete jogged by just as I made a funny face in the dark, foggy reflection. More footsteps pounded from a few feet away and I knew they had to be the feet of a boy who had a sports bag in one hand and large feet that only a Varsity player could posses. But I didn't expect it to be him. Maybe with my luck it would have been Mason or Joey the cute upper classmen that made my heart skip a beat and a breath escape my lips everytime I saw them. But not him. Not the first guy who knew all my secrets. Not the first guy who I fell in love with. Not the first guy who broke my heart. I stood there utterly mortified that I had been thinking about, dreaming about running into him for weeks, and there he was. And so instead of in my dreams, where I happen to see him, no one else in the halls, I'd breath out his name as he turned to grin at me, and I'd tell him my secret, just like I always did, and he'd tell me his for the first time, he'd tell me that he missed me, and that curly, blonde haired, tall, tan, teenage, boy would be mine again. No, instead I literally ran into him. I turned and clumisly dragged my feet away from my refelction and right into him. The moment was there, the moment was now, my sharp elbow bumped his abs as I turned the corner and he stepped back, startled and then stunned to have run into me of all people. The lip gloss on my lips seemed to stick together as I tried to will my mouth to open. But by the time it did, it flooded with air that I desperatly needed after seeing him, and the right now, the right moment, was gone. Because by that time he was gone, my first love, my lost, our first encounter since the end, my first perfect moment, all gone.
First. First step, first word, first food. First dance, first kiss, the winner is always first. The person always moving forward, and rushing through it all. The person with the most desire to get things done and to push forward. Life isn't about doing things first, or experiencing all your firsts right away because you can only have a first love, or a first step into highschool, or a first blog post, once. Once and only once. And when it's over, it's over, and everything you do after that is nothing new.
11:11 a moment everyday that pushes us to think about what we want. To think about the things that we wish we could obtain, or could do, or could be happy with, if only.........if only he liked you, or if only the time was right, or if the only the moment came. The perfect moment. But I'm tired of wishing for that perfect moment, I'm tired of waiting until it's the right time to tell him, or the right time to forgive, or the right time to move on. I wish for right now, I wish to be in this moment and live here forever, because this moment, right now, is the time to speak. The time to forgive. The time to be who you want to be. I wish for right now to never end, because right now is the perfect time, the perfect moment.