Nine One One

It was just a regular sunday night until it wasn’t.

I was sitting at home with a friend enjoying some pizza after playing Madden 13 when all of a sudden my sister bursts in the door yelling.

I was sitting at the table and she rushed in telling me that there is a huge fire right behind a property that we rent out.

She said that she drove by and called 9-1-1 and told them that there was a very large fire and told them the location.

After finishing dinner my Dad and I decided we should probably make sure our property was not on fire and that our storage was ok.

After we had determined our stuff was in no imminent danger and had a talk with our renters we wanted to check it out.

We walked down a long stretch of driveway to see a house engulfed in flames, making loud popping noises like something was exploding, and a firetruck parked right in the middle of two trees.

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An Amazing Trio

Up until eight years ago, I was the younger sibling in my family. I had my brother up until then, who is two years older than me. When my mom told me that I was going to have a little sister, I was ecstatic. I always thought of my brother as being a meanie, so I was hoping that with some luck, Hope, my little sister, would be a great addition to the family. Turns out she is quite the trouble maker.

Before I had my little sister around, I was stuck with my big brother, Cole. Cole and I have never seen eye to eye. He was the annoying ten year-old bothersome brother that I think most sisters get stuck with. Anyways, Cole probably didn’t like me very much when I was younger. It would explain why he always smashed my Lego houses after I was done building them. Or maybe he just wanted his Legos back. The world will never know. I think Cole and I get along much better now that we are older. We still of course keep on calling each other names. I don’t think that is ever going to change.

Oh Hope. Where to begin with Hope? My little eight year-old sister who thinks that she is the boss of me. She was the sweetest thing alive until the age of two. I knew she would be trouble when she broke my nose with a flashlight.  I got to give her credit for having such strength at the age of two. Somedays, I wish I could put her in a soundproof bubble though. Other days, she is the cutest thing alive. It mostly depends if I’m willing to play with her or if she has to jump on me to get my attention.

The three of us are pretty awesome together. At times, we want to kill each other, but that’s siblings for you. No matter how much you hate them that day, they are the best family you got. I love my brother and sister (most days) and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.


Group Hug.
Family is one of the most important things in someone’s life. They are the people that support, surprise and sometimes sadden someone. Family is the people we treasure throughout our lives whatever happens. They are the friends we never forget.

This October my big sister will be moving out to California to reunite with our family and once again become part of the unit. The 2-year separation has now finished and my best friend is returning home.

I can say whatever the distance and whatever the situation the love of family will never change. This is because family are ultimately our best friends.

What Holds Me Together

High above, amongst the stars,

God checked his watch,

and realized it was time.

Time to make a story,

my story,


He wove together a string of trinkets,

some rusty,

some silver,

some gold,

and some of precious stones.

Of those trinkets,

there were many places.

Houses and apartments,


and condominiums.

Restaurants, schools, corners and alleys.

There was a bit of Mexico.

Koreatown, too.

Some wormy grass,

and golf courses where the deer roamed at night.

And of course,

tied closely to these homes,

was my mother’s cooking,

my father’s laughter,

my sister’s pranks.

And there were my fears.

My anxieties,

all intertwined with my passions,

my soul,

and whatever else that stirs me and moves me and lifts me..

My friends and enemies,

my lovers and ex-boyfriends.

Teachers, mentors, coaches, neighbors.

Mailmen, taxi drivers, pilots, a Marine.

There was much joy.


there were also tears and hardship,

loneliness and strife.

Yelling and screaming,

punching and throwing.

The threads mangled and fried.

But soon enough,

God, with his knowing hands,

his fingers so gentle,

created a piece.

And those loose threads,

they all straighten out to create

one magnificent picture.

One that is unique.

One that is me.


An Inner Battle.

Sometimes there’s only so much you can do when the world is crumbling at your feet. Despite the pain, fear and distress you have to fight through no matter what. Those down days we experience are for a reason, feel them, feel the loneliness, feel the hurt, but at some point you have to come out the other end, not feeling sorry for yourself.

Since my sister left I have felt down and weary. I missed England, I missed my life, I missed everything. As I began to climb into the deep slumber of regret and sadness I forgot about everything else. Not wanting to be where I was, everyday became a greater chore. My life in California became a chore.

So as everything slipped away I thought it was about time to suck it up and not give up the fight. Driving home from school, my windows wound down, my music blaring, the sky serenely blue, the mountains picturesque on the horizon and an eagle circling overhead, I couldn’t help but to love life.

Sometimes letting go is hard but you often have to realize the good things you have in the present to gradually push away the past.

Just Like That

Confused. Miserable. Alone.  Scared.

So, so scared.

The worst how empty she felt.

Where was her mother, her father, her sisters, her brothers?

Was she in their thoughts? Was it only her?
Soon, she could think of nothing. Her mind drew blank.

She faced the white, chalky wall atop her tall bunk bed, the railings red and bright. Her lungs were heavy. One breath in. One breath out.

Was this what her 13 years of life had come to?

Another deep breath out.

She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would take over. She whispered a prayer to God that someone would find her, that she might find herself.

How silly she was to think she was alone in the midst of this struggle. How narrow minded, how blind to the future she was.

Because beneath her, with an obnoxious rustle of the sheets, a skinny girl with young, wispy hair and her insistent tapping, made it clear that she was not alone.

And just like that, without words, the little girl gave her the strength she needed.

Terror on Moscow Airport Leaves 31 Dead and 168 Wounded.

Today, in Moscow, families are mourning for their loved ones that never made it home. Children are waiting without a purpose for their mom or dad, brother or sister. Innocent lives were taken, stolen, by a suitcase carrying explosives. A suicide bomber entered the Domodedovo Airport earlier this day and murdered 31, and injured 168.

People saw things that weren’t ever meant to be seen. Severed legs, fingers, arms, and even heads were flying across the airport due to the power of the impact.

Artyom Zhilenkov witnessed this gruesome sight firsthand stating, “The guy standing next to me was torn to pieces.”

President Obama has offered American assistance whenever needed by the Russians. However, this bombing raises many questions on the Russian‘s ability to safe keep their public from terror attacks. Just a few years back, an explosion erupted inside the airport. Last year, a suicide bomber killed 40 people and wounded around 100. Does Russia really need to turn to America for national safety issues? Will this lack of security, will they be disqualified from hosting the 2014 Olympics? Only time will tell.