Hey guys it's been forever. I'm on Spring Break however, and I'd like to show you what I have accomplished so far during it. Can't wait to start blogging again because my world has done at least two 360s in the last few months. I have so much to share with you! <3 Let summer, begin.
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When someone experiences the death of a person close to them, a friend they truly care about, they go through stages of depression and are forced to cope with the loss. Not everyone moves on at the same pace, not everyone moves on. The human imagination can be unbelievable and at times, surreal. If anyone were to ask a logical doctor or expert physiatrist if it were possible to connect with the dead, they would gladly inform them that ghosts are not real. One is certainly not going to see a deceased someone alive, they are most truly dead, never to move or breathe again. No person at all can talk to the dead or connect with them. The dead will never walk this earth again. If a woman were to tell of said connections with a deceased human being, that person would most definitely be sent to the loony bin. Mrs. Hundy had seen the two walking home from the school yard together many times over the years. She has watched the young boy bring her home from many dates, always rolling up in his fancy black car. The woman had witnessed them go through the last six years of their lives together. Once night, Mrs. Hundy opened her curtains to the scene of a father and daughter sitting in the front yard together. They looked rather trouble, at least from what the woman’s eyesight could see. Recalling the events from the night, she wondered what had caused such an odd scene. Around ten at night the all too familiar black Mustang GT pulled into the driveway of the Thompson household. The very beautiful and young, blonde headed girl got out of the car. To the surprised of Mrs. Hundy, the usually cheerful and every joyous teenager began screaming at the young Mr. Carson in the passenger seat. With tears in her eyes the young girl held her ground in the argument she seemed to be consumed in. They two kids had been together for six years now and even though they were only seniors in high school, it broke Mrs. Hundy’s heart to see them fight. The car door was slammed shut with a frightening “boom” just in time for the low profile tires to squeal backwards down the driveway. The car revved and sped angrily down the street. The young lady who had been left standing alone in her driveway walked up the front porch steps, through the front door and into the living room. Mrs. Hundy was not trying to invade anyone’s privacy as she watched the girl hug her mother in a deep embrace through the front windows of her home. Removing herself from her spot in the window, Mrs. Hundy assumed everything would work out in the morning, Mrs. Hundy expected to see the boy again in a few days and assumed the father and daughter were on the lawn to talk matters of life while looking the shining stars. Making her way to the kitchen, fixing to make herself a cup of coffee passed a wall of old picture frames that had been hanging around for years. She let her eyes wonder from memory to memory hidden beneath fogged glass. Tonight her gaze lingered on a photo of Mr. Hundy and herself from years ago. They were sitting happily in the living room next to a brightly lit Christmas tree. The two of them looked outright happy and content. She remembered how just hours before his heart-attack, he kissed her wrinkly forehead and wished her a good night before heading to bed. This was a ritual the two of them had gone through every night before bed, ever since their wedding in the spring of 59. She sighed as she rejoiced in the moments she sincerely wished she could relive. As Mrs. Hundy sipped her coffee and watched her favorite movie. A little after one in the morning, she noticed red and blue flashing lights pull up across the street. Although she assumed it was only the police offering to give a ride to home to a kid out past curfew, Mrs. Hundy still got up to look out the window. The squad car pulled up across the street and two men somberly climbed out. One of the men was the town sheriff Jeff Leigh and next to him was Mr. Carson, the father of the teenage boy. The two of them slowly made their way to the front steps of the Thompson household. A strong sense of panic crossed the mind of Mrs. Hundy as she stepped onto her front patio. Mr. Thompson, accompanied by Mr. Thompson were already in the doorway when the sheriff went to knock. The two men solemnly took off their hats at Mr. Carson wiped the scruff on his neck. A few words were said and Mrs. Thompson’s hands were swiftly brought to cover her mouth and nose as the look of horror shot across her face. Their daughter Ashley made her way to the doorway looking tired and confused. The pink polka-dot blanket draped across her shoulders made the seventeen year old look even more vulnerable than usual. Her mother wrapped her arms around her as Ashley listened to what her father had to say. Mrs. Hundy looked around, noticing just now the other neighbors watching the same scene. Everyone began wiping tears from their eyes, realizing what had happened. Ashley was now sitting in the doorway, her mother by her side. The usual joy and wonder in her face replaced by tears. Her mouth repeated the shape of the word “no” and she soon collapsed entirely into her mother’s lap. All of the neighbors had eventually found their way into their homes and soon, Mrs. Hundy did the same. As she settled into bed, the last six years went through her mind like an old time movie. Everything she had watched the children go through together, all the dates and parties she had watched them go off to. When she woke up, Mrs. Hundy felt a dry soreness in her eyes. She knew the day was going to be rough as she ate breakfast and flipped through television channels. Sipping her coffee she watched as a dark haired reporter covered the events of an accident the night before. The camera was directed at what looked like a large piece of black scrap metal. Medics were surrounding the mess and the flashing police lights warned passing cars of the situation. As the camera zoomed out Mrs. Hundy made out what she thought was a tire. Slim and low profile, it was definitely familiar. Putting everything together, the little lady became even more fixated on the moving picture screen. Before going to commercial, the report informed viewers that they would release the name of the driver and more information later on. Mrs. Hundy finished her coffee and once again stepped onto her front porch. Ashley and her father were once again sitting in the front yard together. Although the cause of such a scene was tragic, the sight still warmed the old woman’s heart. Mrs. Hundy leaned down and gave the girl a reassuring hug. She gave all of her love and support to Ashley and her family. Entering her home moments later, Mrs. Hundy recalled the look on the girls face. She had looked very sad, but not hopeless. It was then that the woman realized just how strong the young girl really was. Before bed tonight, Mrs. Hundy watched the ten o’clock news. The screen showed pictures of the high school athlete Tyler Carson. Pictures from basketball games, homecomings, and prom flashed across the television. Mrs. Hundy even smiled at the photo of Tyler, dressed in his basketball uniform standing next to an enthused Ashley in a cheerleading uniform. She had watched the two leave the house across the street dressed that way many times before. However sadness quickly consumed her once again as funeral and visitation dates were put up. Before the end of the coverage however, the reporter began talking of a modern day Romeo and Juliet. A true love story. Tyler had been texting when he lost control of his car and veered off the road. His cell phone, which was found 300 feet away still read “I cannot wait for Senior Prom. My mom ordered your corsage this morning, I love you Ashl…” Mrs. Hundy teared up as she assured herself that she had heard the cause of the accident correctly. Getting out of bed, for no explainable reason, she put on her rob,,. She looked out her bedroom window towards the Thompson house. Sitting on the lawn, just as she had been with her father just the night before sat Ashley. She was sitting atop her pink polka-dot blanket, her head resting on Tyler’s shoulder, smiling and giggling with contentment. As Mrs. Hundy witnessed his, she smiled widely. She wasn’t confused at all, she completely understood. The little old lady turned around, feeling bright and invincible as an even bigger smile crept across her face. She looked at home and said “I got your letter too late.” Holding her husband’s hand she made her way to a set of old stationary. She pulled out an aged envelope, sealed gently with stamped wax. She handed it to him and he too smiled greatly as he read the hand sketched words: I love you too.
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This is me and Michael. <3 I can't wait to spend summer with him.
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2012!!!!!!!!!!!.
New Year's Confession:
I still have dreams about my ex while dating Michael. They make me feel like a poop.
andd
I take fish oil daily so my hair will grow faster.
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I still have dreams about my ex while dating Michael. They make me feel like a poop.
andd
I take fish oil daily so my hair will grow faster.
CastawayTay
I want to be important. I want to stand tall. I strive to be beautiful, I stumble, not fall. In the whirls of my deepest thoughts and emotions, to Piczo I turn, to blog with devotion. Taylor@16Million
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