New blog, guys.

I actually started a new blog, so if you frequent this one by any chance, or just so happened to stumble upon it somehow, you should be delighted to know that, yes, I started a new blog. Not sure why I didn't just post it all on this one--but whatever the reason, here it is: shleyay.blogspot.com

A Writer's Best Friend.

Coffee.

Steaming
sweet
warm
and oh so--
comforting.

The warm porcelain mug held loosely between your fingers,
and the smile on your face as you lift it to your lips.

Sweet
warm
comforting.

Gears turn and
words become thoughts
thoughts become
sentences and sentences become--

More coffee. Another sip, the hot mug pressed against your lips.

--stories
poems
everything comes to life.

The hurried clicking of keys on a typewriter
keyboard
the soft scratch of a pencil on rough lined paper.

Inhale,
exhale.

More.

Warm
sweet
comforting.

Relief.

He sat on the shore, running his fingers softly through the warm golden sand, only one thing on his mind. Was she thinking of him too? He sat and stared down at his tan fingers, scribbling fancy little letters in his beautiful handwriting into the soft sand. He looked down at the words one last time then sighed and swiped his hand gently across them, erasing them from the sand beneath him but not his mind. He peered down for a moment at where the words once lay, then took a deep breath and looked out to the water lashing up to his feet. He watched as it reached for him, the clear crystal blue water washing slowly over his feet. He tried to force a smile upon his face as he felt the cool water embrace him. For once in the past few months he felt at ease. There was something about the clear blue sky above him that made him feel secure. Something about the soft warm sand around him that made him feel comforted. Something about the cool breeze in his thick black hair that made him feel free. Something about the clear blue water that made him feel loved. There was just something about the beach that always made him feel better, no matter what the situation was or how horrible it may be. The beach was his friend. The ocean, the sand, the sun, the sky, the wind, the rocks, they were the only things that cared enough to comfort him. People were cruel and ignorant of the pain he felt each day. So there he sat, for the first time in 154 days, a real smile on his face. Not a huge one, just a tiny grin. But a huge smile wasn't required. Even the tiniest smile could be the beginning of healing. The smallest gesture can mean so much when all you need is something to feel.

My Escape.

                I hopped in the car, tossing my bag in the backseat as I looked to the driver with a huge, bright, genuine smile plastered onto my young, pale face. My eyes traced the contours of his jaw, his lips, his nose, his eyes, and I just breathed it all in, smiling; happy. I pulled the car door shut and took a deep breath, still smiling. "Where are we going," I asked him, excited. He smiled, shrugged, looked at me, and then leaned in to kiss me.

                If you were to ask me a year ago if I would have ever expected to be where I am now, I would laugh in your face and tell you that that would be impossible. But here I am, sitting in the car with the love of my life, getting ready to leave this shit town. And go where? That's the best part. Who knows? My smile widened.

                "Road trip," he grinned sheepishly. He put the car in gear and backed up, as I rolled down the window and watched my house slowly fade away, feeling the warm summer breeze on my face and in my hair.

                Again, he looked at me with a smile on his face. I looked back at him and laughed. "What?" His smile remained. "Nothing, now where are we going?" I looked back to my house, and my smile faded. "I don't care. Just get me out of this fucking town."

                He chuckled. "Alright, darling," and reached over to hold my hand as we drove away from my own personal Hell. My face was starting to hurt from all the smiling, but if you want me to be honest, I've never been happier.

                He had always been my escape, there's no doubt about that. But until now, it had always been emotionally. If I was having a bad day, he would comfort me and make everything right in the world. If someone was making me feel like shit, he'd bathe me in compliments until I couldn't help but love myself almost as much as he loved me. It had always been him that would get me away from my thoughts and reality, but never once had he been able to physically get me away from my problems.

                "Music," I asked, looking at him hopefully. He smiled and lifted his hand to connect his phone to the car and put the music on shuffle. The first to play was our song, and I couldn't help but sing along. Crazy to think that only a year ago I thought perfection and happiness were merely vague concepts and palpable cravings.

                When the song was over, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and looked at me. "Do you mind, love?" I stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "Sure, go for it." He hesitated, but grabbed the lighter in the cup-holder nonetheless and lit it. I couldn't help but let a tiny smile form on my lips as I saw him pull the cigarette from his lips and let the smoke escape his mouth. I leaned over and kissed him gently, the faint taste of smoke lingering on his lips. I inhaled deeply, taking in that all-too-comforting smell that brought about a deep nostalgia.

                

Bite Me.

I woke up gasping for air. I sat up in a hurry and choked to catch my breath. Inhaling rapidly, I realized that it was all just a dream. It was horrible, there was so much blood…the screams…it all seemed so real. I could feel the bite as if it had really happened. I looked down to my arm, startled to see a red bite mark. I lightly ran my fingertips over it as I took a deep breath. “What the…” My sentence trailed off. It was hard to keep my eyes open. Was I still dreaming? I touched it again and this time it sent a tingle down my spine. My fingers barely touched the wound, and immediately a jolt of pain shot through my arm. “Ah, shit!” I tried to keep my voice low. “Ow.” I looked at it confused. How had this even happened? Was that really a dream after all? I tried hard to figure out what had happened, but the last thing I remembered was going out to dinner with my mom and little brother. I touched it again, my fingertips brushing softly against the red wound, the sudden pain returning. It felt hot, like it was on fire. I shook my head. This just didn’t make sense. Finally, I felt my eyes begin to close as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to the warm sunlight streaming in on my face. I yawned, stretching my arms up into the air. I sat up slowly, remembering last night. I looked at my left arm. The bite had turned from a pink irritation to a purple and deep red bruise. I poked it once more and the pain was unbearable. I sighed and got out of bed then began walking to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and ran a hand through my tangled hair. Man, I was a mess. Even then, I still looked decent. My silky chestnut brown hair was shiny and clean, my brilliant blue eyes shone bright, and my relatively pale skin glowed slightly in the light. I smiled and leaned forward to open the medicine cabinet. I reached in and moved over the toothpaste and other hygienic items to find a box of band-aids: empty. I groaned and fumbled around the medicine cabinet to find a box of Batman bad-aids. I sighed and closed my eyes, then picked up the box and pulled one out. It was nearly impossible to put the band-aid on my wound because of the pain, but I did it. I winced as it touched my skin. “Ah.” I grunted and closed my eyes. “Ouch.” I pressed it down and rubbed it on. “Ah. Ow. Jesus.” I closed my eyes. “Ah…”

I walked down the hallway at school in a daze; passing my friends, not saying a word. The pain was getting worse. I grabbed my arm and bit my lip in an attempt to choke down my tears. I hurried to class and tried to suck it up. With each second the pain increased. I tried as hard as I could not to cry. “Come on Nicole, you can do it…” I muttered to myself in an attempt to convince myself that everything was okay and I could make it through the day.

I pressed my pencil down hard onto my paper as I wrote. I looked up as Mr. Williams began to speak. His voice was loud, but slightly soothing in my time of need. He had the kind of voice that you could listen to all day, no matter what he had to say. He had the kind of voice that you would want to read you a book. He had that sort of fairy tale voice that was incredibly comforting for some reason.

“Okay class, I think it’s just about time to-” His sentence was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. His eyes were wide with fear and surprise. “What was that? Or...who,” Mr. W. said with a concerned look on his face as he drifted toward the door. “Hold on class, one moment please.” He opened the door and peered out. Taking a step forward, he looked around. By now he was completely out of our vision; he had closed the door. Everybody started yelling and freaking out. Their voices seemed to get louder and louder. Finally I yelled out, “Everybody, just shut up! Jesus!” To my surprise, it worked.

We all sat and listened for some kind of answer to what was happening. I sat and watched the clock. After 2 minutes and 47 seconds we finally heard something. There was a muffled screeching sound, then silence. Then, a scream. It was Mr. Williams; his voice wasn’t hard to recognize. Everybody gasped, except me. The fear and tension screamed out as we all sat in our seats, knowing that something horrible was happening. Serena Stone got up to the door to see what had happened. She looked through the opaque glass above the wooden part of the door.

“Oh my god!” Serena gasped, turning around and putting her hands to her face, covering her eyes. At that point, everybody stood up and ran over to see what she had seen. I just sat in my chair, silent. I had known this was going to happen. I already knew what was going on. I took my band-aid off and looked at the bite. “It’s real…” I muttered under my breath. I closed my eyes and touched my wound, feeling the fiery pain build up. I opened my eyes again.

“What?” Mike Nodson looked at me with an expression I would never forget: a combination of true fear and concern. “What the hell are you mumbling about Nicole?” I kept my head down and my mouth shut. I could feel his eyes on me. After a minute I felt all 27 sophomore eyes surrounding me. I felt my words get caught in my throat. All I could say was one word:

“Run.”

The door came crashing down as a jock we all knew as Trevor Stern came stumbling in. There was blood on his whole body and a chunk of flesh bitten out of his neck. His eyes were glazed over and he looked stone cold. His skin had begun to develop a greenish tint. Serena was closest to the door; he pushed her to the ground and we all watched him eat her alive. The screams were terrifying and ear-piercing. We all felt the tears fall down our cheeks as our bodies shook with fear.

This was it.

Fading

And after everything you've said and all you've done to hurt me--I still catch my thoughts drifting to you.
And call my crazy but my heart still beats for you. 
After all the tears and blood I've seen, I still manage to whisper your name. 
All these scars and meaningless words and thoughts; they're all painful remnants of your existence. 
Slowly but surely, I'm dying without you: 
I'm fading. 
You know that smile you once called pretty? 
It's now left lost and forgotten in the back of my thoughts. 
But what would I be without you? 
Happy? 
Alive?
Nothing, nonetheless. 
Without you, I would've never known true love, loss, or real pain. 
So thank you; for loving me, and for leaving me.
For leaving me broken and scarred, and for never saying my name. 
For hearing my words, but never once listening. 
Thank you. 
For making me think that I'm useless, ugly, stupid, and nothing. 
For making me spend countless hours wondering why I will never be good enough for you. 
For giving me the lowest self-esteem and the largest trust issues that this world has ever seen. 
Nice to know I'll never fall for your lies again. 
Or your truth. 
What truth? 
Could it be possible that honestly flows from your lips? 
Or is it all just a mirage? 
The borderlines are blurring. 
Does this so-called "reality" exist, or is it all just my imagination? 
I'm mad: crazy.
I'm finally done. 
I can't take your games anymore. 
Goodbye. 
And please, don't call my name. 
The last thing I want is to hear your voice and find myself falling for you again.

Oh San Diego, How I Love You.

I'm sitting here at my internship, writing about tourist attractions in San Diego, and it's making me realize how freaking gorgeous and amazing it is here, and how lucky I am to live here. It's crazy to think that there are people who dream of coming here some day, and I'm living it every day of my life, taking it for granted. Anyhoo, it really got me thinking about my favourite places in San Diego, so I thought that I would share some of them with you.



1. Coronado. 

Out of all the places in San Diego, Coronado is definitely one of my favourites, hands down. The beaches are wonderful, the food is fantastic, and there's gorgeous art galleries and amazing places to shop. Every 4th of July, my family goes to Coronado and we just spend the day there, and it's absolutely wonderful. One restaurant that we go to often in Coronado is Peohe's, a high-class restaurant right on the beach. They have some of the best onion rings I've ever had.




2. Balboa Park.
Of course, Balboa Park is a pretty gorgeous place, especially at night. I think it's so especially fantastic because of the myriad of attractions, such as the variety of museums and theaters. You simply cannot go to Balboa Park and be bored. Even if you're not doing anything especially interesting, it's still far too beautiful to not enjoy. I spent most of my childhood in Balboa Park, because I went to school there, so we would walk to the museums and stuff for field trips and when I was younger I took so much advantage of the beauty and elegance of the place.


3. SeaWorld.

Gosh, I'm just realizing how cliche these all are. They're such obvious tourist attractions. Clearly for good reasons, though. ANYWAYS, SeaWorld is an absolute MUST for tourists, or anyone for that matter. The rides, although there are only a few, are super fun, and the amount of interaction with the sea life, I think, is pretty cool. They're starting to open up more interactive things, like you can swim with the beluga whales and stuff like that now, which I think is super rad. Another super cool thing are the shows, which are clever and cute. Maybe I just like sea life in general, and that's why I find SeaWorld so great, but either way, it's wonderful.

I don't know, I was just thinking about how much I love San Diego. I also love San Francisco, it's so gorgeous. I think that's one main reason I really life San Diego, I like the look of cities at night and stuff, and I like the idea of never being bored because there's so much to do and so much to see. I also like such simple pleasures, like just laying somewhere beautiful and wasting your time taking pictures of sightseeing. I'M SO CLICHE, I'M SORRY. Anyways, yup, San Diego. My lovely city. <3