Teens Who Harm Others


When I was a teen I did the teen things. I wasn’t a terrible brat but still, I was a teen. I remember drinking my first taste of wine standing in an alley with my best friend while trick-or treating. Yes, I still did the get the treat things in my teens. I really didn’t go to the door, instead I was a teen stepping out of my guide lines set by my parents.bottle

When I was old enough to drive I would put on a Halloween mask and drive  up and down the streets in our city. I thought it was so much fun getting the looks from older drivers.

I once went to Fort Wayne with some friends. I wasn’t ever to go out-of-town and I was also to tell my parents where I was going. When we do something we know is wrong it always comes back to bite us in the ass, and it did.

I was at the busy intersection at a stop light and it was dark. The laughter from inside the car immediately stopped when all of a sudden steam came barging out from under the hood of the car. I had broken a hose.

I immediately froze and became serious as I was trying to figure out a kind way to call my parents and tell them what happened and where I was. Luck was on my side as one of the guys knew enough about cars to temporarily fix it until I got back home.

So I did the teen thing but never anything bad. So you can imagine how angry I was at the local news on TV tonight when a family who loved to over-decorate outdoors for Christmas. When they woke up this morning they were so sad when they discovered that teens had ripped apart so many of those expensive decorations.

Stomping on lights, smashing Santa and Frosty the Snowman. Tearing lights out of the trees and busting them. What a very expensive teen episode that was. I felt so bad for that family.

They enjoyed having people drive by and being entertained by their hundreds of lights only to have them blown out by teen pranks. I don’t get it. What was the ending goal that was on the positive side?

Why weren’t those teens home going to bed so they could get up and go to work? I was an ornery teen but I also knew if I did something this horrendous, my parents would punish me so badly it would be weeks before I was let out of the house.

I won’t try to place blame here on anyone. I will just say that the word respect for other people has been tossed out the window in the past few years. What a sad situation this was.

Here is a similar video of what that house looked like that got torn apart.

The Brightest Star


The lonely soldier boy looked up at the stars. It was Christmas night. He was cold and had nowhere to go. He had served his country well. He had stripes on his sleeves and was proud.

His intention was to come home and marry his girl. He had been planning on marrying her and then the letter arrived. His country needed him. But while he was gone, she got bored and found the companionship of another.

When he knocked on her door the day before he learned from her mother that she had up and moved in with some guy. Through tears she expressed how sorry she was. The lonely soldier boy walked a way with his head hung low and his hands in his pockets.

He went back to his home but when the door opened the only welcome he received was the squeaky door. You see while he was gone, his parents had been killed in a car accident.

Something went a miss and he didn’t learn about it until way after the funeral was over. When he finally read the letter that was given to him all it said was that his parents had been killed and the home he grew up in was his.

Silence rang throughout his head. He put his hands over his ears. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He wanted it to stop, but it kept ringing and getting louder and louder. He buried his head in his hands and he wept.

How could this have happened? He lost his girl, he lost his parents, and yet he had done what was right and served his country well. He walked from room to room touching trinkets and remembering back to earlier times.

He got his duffel bag and started placing ever so carefully pieces that reminded him of happier times. He packed some clothes. He walked out into the night air. Pulling his coat closer to his body he walked.

No where in particular, just walked. He ended up at the cemetery where his parents had two markers staring at him. He sat down on the snowy ground and pulling the shiny star out of his bag, he placed it in front of his parents names.

He cried out to his parents begging them for answers. He thought how easy it would be to kill his own self so he could be closer to those he loved. He stared down at the cold ground waiting for some kind of signal that they had heard him.

Hearing nothing he stared off into the distance. Far ahead he saw a beam of light shining down towards the earth. His eyes followed the path and when he looked up in the skies he saw the brightest star he had ever seen.

Like the shepherds followed the star when Jesus was born, the lonely soldier boy followed the beam of light. He walked for what was ever and soon he was standing in the most beautiful house he had ever seen.

When his eyes adjusted and he was able to make out objects, he saw his parents. Beside them were members of his extended family. They came to him and enveloped him with love and hugs.

God had heard his cries, and now he was not the lonely soldier boy any longer. He was in the haven of love, the kingdom of all heavens and he smiled once again.

animationStar

My Parents Rules


Excuse me while I tell you about what I was thinking while sitting in the lady’s room on the throne. I know, right? We get some of our best ideas in those little rooms.

I actually was thinking about how Al had struggled all morning with breathing. Nothing looks any different on him, but listening, you can hear changes. Well that thought drifted off to Mom and Dad.

I was wondering  how they would feel about the care I give Al. I was going back in time and remembering all the “rules of life” they instilled in us kids.Rules of Life (2)

Now many years later I look at myself and see that I didn’t listen to everything they said.

Some of the rules I can remember getting ground into my head were;

1. Don’t eat with your elbows on the table.

Well I do have excellent manners when I dine out, but here at home, I don’t care as much. Who sees me? Only Al and Rhino and they don’t care as long as I am here.

2. Bedtime is at 10pm. I don’t care what others do, at this house these are my rules.

Well, I have tried to listen to those rules. Only because they are in my mind still, but it doesn’t work. How many times have you went to bed at the proper time and did nothing but lay there and toss and turn? In the morning you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. You feel like crap. What I have learned for me is, go to bed when I am tired, well as long as Al is in bed. If I lose or gain sleep time, my body will generally let me make it up the next evening.mack truck

3. Get up early The early bird gets the worm, the late riser gets nothing and shows how lazy he/she is.

I don’t get this at all. I never liked getting up early. Even now I don’t get up as early as Mom and Dad would have. Especially on the weekends. They were always early risers and I didn’t see any worm beds growing in our house.worm bed

4. You must put in a hard day’s work every day. You will be happier.

Well I am going to be brutally honest here. Mental work can be quite heavy also. Caring for Al, there are times I would like to lay down and rest before lunch time. Now that I am a little older naps are much more exciting to me then when I was told I had to take one every day; up until the day I started Kindergarten.kids napping

5. Don’t chew with your mouth open.

Now this rule I have stuck to. I don’t chew with my mouth open because I don’t want my delicacies falling out and being wasted. Besides, to me, I don’t think it looks appealing.child-eating-bad-manners

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6. Don’t play across the street with those kids. We don’t know them.

Now here, I don’t agree totally. Yes, there are some warning signs that are obvious to the eye that I may not want to allow my kids to wander the neighborhood. But my Mom and Dad had different reasons and I won’t go into that, as it would be another whole post that I would not care to write about.

I believe that we are a nation under one ceiling. We have different colors, cultures, habits and religions. But God made each of us in his image. I have many friends who are not white like me. I love learning about culture, and I find people in general have at the very least, one fascinating thing about them. All we  have to do is look. People in general are loving and want to be loved, just like you and me.

With the times changing it is a pity that now we have to be more careful about viewing the world for what it really is and not what we hope it is. There are more dangers now than when I was being taught by my parents. Let me give you a wide example.

When I was a kid, on Halloween night, paper bags, not plastic, flimsy sacks were used for products. I would take an empty one along with my brother and we would trick-or-treat the whole neighborhood. There was no watching for porch lights on. There were no razors in apples, or sticks of gum with poison in them. It was a fun and innocent night for kids and when we came home our bags were full of goodies. Many time I was eating while trick-or-treating. I didn’t have to wait until I got home and have my candy inspected by parents or x-ray machines.children-trick-or-treating

7. Don’t speak back and never argue with your mate.

Now this one is probably my worst follower in my own life. My parents taught me children are to be seen and not heard. Children should be quiet and sit on chairs. It is no wonder when I was in elementary school I got bad marks on talking out loud. I was finally freed from silence.

I do not agree with not speaking up. It is what has made me so afraid today of voicing my opinions. It has made me sick at heart when I let people run all over me. Forcing their opinions on me when I  have my own individual thoughts. I was not allowed to be creative. Thankfully, through writing I am  healing on this issue.

I don’t believe in arguing either. I used to, don’t get me wrong. If I thought I was right, I was sticking to it no matter what. Now I have learned, it’s alright to voice my thoughts, and for my mate to say his. When each has spoken a decision to meet in the middle is agreed upon. Two adults conversing like two adults. I would never want a mate to bully me. Beating me, cussing at me, is not the way to treat another human. It is alright to agree to disagree.

So all in all I took what my parents taught me and used what felt right for me. I think they did a pretty good job. Thanks Mom and Dad. for caring enough to teach me.

 

Daily Prompt; We Can Be Taught


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What makes a teacher great?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us GREATNESS.

I was in the third grade. I was a chatterbox. When I look back at past report cards for elementary grades I can see all the boxes checked for talking too much. I couldn’t help it I guess. I had lots to say.

Now that I am much older I know that even back then I was craving what I was lacking at  home. I needed to be validated. I wanted to be noticed. I suppose that even now I still have some of those feelings that will pop up now and then.

My teacher, was a short, plump woman, who wore stockings and pumps and a print dress every single day. Her hair was orange/red. She had more freckles on her face and arms than anyone I had ever known at that time. When she smiled around her eyes formed wrinkles and she reminded me back then of Mrs. Clause with those tiny eyes that danced.

She moved me several times for talking. I sat in the front rows. I was moved to the back rows. I can remember standing out in the hall a couple of times. I also tattled. I think people tattle for attention.tattle tails Tattling draws attention. Whether good or bad we need it, we think.

She was a strict teacher and molded me into what I am today.

I didn’t like her much at the time, but she helped me to start the process that I was worthy. She helped me see that bad attention was not the only choice I had in drawing others to me.

For the lack of confidence part, I had to teach myself through tough lessons in life. Good friends sitting with me and talking. Tears being poured, and accepting. Yes, this is the toughest teaching job of all. Accepting myself for who I am.

I am never going to be any other than who I am. The TV media can destroy us. It makes us ponder on what else is out there. Why can’t I look or talk, or have what she/he has. The bottom line is God made me who I am for a reason. I am no one special in the outer world. But I am a writer, a good mother, and a woman who has a right to stand here living on this land.

Following The Bumpy Road


 

She was walking down the road. Gravel biting at her face as the winds picked up. 15-year-old Dawn had a messy life at home. Her mom was rarely home. She spent most of her time with the opening and closing hours at the local bar. Her dad always looked at her in a way that gave Dawn the creeps. An older brother who had run a way a few years back she never heard from.

For the most part Dawn had raised herself for the last several years. She got up for school with her alarm. She fixed a bowl of cereal and packed her own lunches. Dawn liked school. Not for the fact that she was shaping her life for adulthood; but because she heard noise. Kids running to and from classes. Teachers mumbling out of books.

She had a couple of friends but nothing really she could call close. It was fall and decorations were seen everywhere.  Hanging ghosts from trees. Pumpkins sitting on porches.jack-o-lantern (9) Orange lights hanging from windows giving off a spooky glow.

She was almost to school one day when a girl about her age hopped off her front porch and slid up beside Dawn, feet in rhythm, she walked beside her.

” What’s your name? Mine is Molly. We just moved here. This is my first day of school. You know I just hate school. My parents ride my ass all the time about how I need an education.”

Molly pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket. Lighting one up and making an O ring she offered one to Dawn who turned her down.

” So what did you say your name was?”

” I didn’t but it is Dawn.”

” Dawn huh, nice name I guess. Dawn and Molly, sounds good together.”

The two girls walked until they came within a block of school. She didn’t know what planet this chick was from but hey, someone was talking to her. Dawn stopped behind the school trash dumpsters. Molly stopped too and Dawn whispered, ” I think I will take one of the cigarettes if you still want to offer one.”

” Sure girlfriend, what are best friends for?”

Molly lit it for her and Dawn swallowed hard in order not to show this new friend she had never tried smoking before. Molly slapped her on the back and laughed. ” Don’t worry kid, it gets easier with each one.”

The two stood there while Dawn forced each puff. squashing it out with her feet the two went inside the school doors.

After school was over Molly was waiting right in the same spot the two had split. Going behind the trash cans Molly offered another cigarette which Dawn took. The two girls inhaled and chatted about the day. The girls walked home. Molly did most of the talking and Dawn listened.

It was obvious Molly had lived a more exciting life than Dawn had. They parted ways and once home Dawn went to the fridge and got herself a pop and some crackers. She went to her room and closed the door. Laying on her bed she ate and thought about everything Molly had said.

She wished she lived this kind of life. Molly smoked and had even tried pot. She even had sex already. Dawn had not even had a serious boyfriend yet. She fell asleep dreaming of how her life could change now that she knew Molly.

Day after day the two girls met. They went to school and went home. They started spending weekends together, and Molly even taught Dawn how to skip school. After all, there was so much more to life than just school, Molly would say.

Molly made friends easily. She introduced them to Dawn and soon she was popular. This crowd she was running with wasn’t the kind your mother dreamed of you being around. More drugs were introduced. Drinking on the weekends became a regular thing.

It wasn’t long at all before skipping school became a once a week thing. Then it was two, then three, graduating up to a week one time. The school was calling but no one was answering.

One time when Dawn was smoking a joint in her room the doorbell rang. She peeked out her window. It was a cop. Dawn’s heart began to race. What should she do? She quickly called her friend and was instructed to get a small bag together quick. Quietly slide out the back door and high tail it over to her house.

It took less than five minutes and the house was empty. When Dawn walked upon the porch Molly was standing there waiting for her with her own back pack. The two said nothing. They started walking not looking back.

Dawn’s mind was asking so many questions. There was a little fear making her stomach hurt. But she wasn’t going to get the shit kicked out of her for not going to school. She had no choice but to follow or go back.

The two had made it to the edge of town when a car pulled up next to them.  Gravel biting them in the face as the winds picked up. Three guys were inside. Smiling they told the girls to hop in. Molly did just this and Dawn followed.

chevy

I Know This Kid


She sat behind the chair hiding. Messy blonde curls, thumb in her mouth. Listening to the two of them arguing. Frightened and not understanding she began to weep but no one heard her.

Someone was going to take her away. Sally was afraid. She didn’t want to leave her TigerAngelmommy. But, why were they both saying they were her mommy? She moved a way and hid in the shadows fearing the two women would know she was there.

” She is my child and you can’t have her.”

” You don’t have custody of her anymore. You gave her up. Now get a way from here before I call the police.”

Why was that lady talking to my mommy like that? Why can’t I go have my mommy hold me? I want my mommy.

” I am her new mother now, please remove yourself from my property.”

Sally wept harder. This lady was being bad to my mommy. Too afraid to move she huddled even deeper into the dark. Soon the door slammed and the new mommy was yelling at my daddy.

” What in the world did you ever see in that bitch? You must have been drunk when you slept with her. You produced not one but two kids from a woman like that. Were you out of your freaking mind?”

” Tone your voice down. Do you want the kids to hear you?”

” Not the kids, your kids. I married you, not your kids.”

I saw daddy hanging his head down. I saw him get his hanky out of his pocket and wipe his eyes. Mommy is sitting down at the table. She is drinking her coffee and looking out the window.

My mommy wants me but they don’t want me to be with her. My new mommy doesn’t want me and yet I have to stay here.

Sally came out from her hiding place when the room became quiet. She crept up the stairs and laid down on her bed. Sticking her thumb in her mouth she cried herself to sleep.

This my friends is something that happens so often in lives of children today. Marriages ripped apart. New marriages glued together in hopes of lasting a long time. Children not understanding grown-up things get very confused. Some feel like they are to blame for what ever is wrong. Some kids go into themselves and others escape by what ever means they can find.  A child can feel this pain and carry it deep within their hearts for years to come. I know, because I am this kid.

 

One Times One Equals Two


Ok, I can’t hold this in any longer. It makes me nervous and scared for Al. If anyone has any hint or answers please let me know.

Last week one evening when I got Al up there was a big black area where Al had urinated. Sometimes I just don’t have that magic to make sure he doesn’t pee on the bed pads also. I called Hospice because seeing that freaked me out.

They mentioned something about Renal Failure, but went into no details. I tried researching it but where ever I looked all it pretty much said is that it was serious. It really didn’t explain anything except that Renal Failure usually means less urine, but Al still goes pretty good.

I laid it to rest until this morning. Al didn’t wake up right. He was in that staring stage. His thought process and his movements were not working. I had to place his hands where ever they needed to go. I had to sit him up and then he leaned over. I pushed him back in a sitting position and then he leaned again and froze there.

It looked strange as I don’t know if I could hold my own body in an awkward position or not and not move. When I got him finally up and in his wheelchair, the black area was there again in the urine. He had once again leaked through his brief.

This is no big deal. I am quite used to doing bed laundry anymore and thank God when I don’t have to change the sheets. This morning seeing this again and his frozen state, I asked him if he would  like to stay home from Day Program. He shook his head no. I pushed him to the table and fixed his breakfast.

He was speaking so softly to me I couldn’t even hear what he was saying even bending down to his mouth. In the end he was trying to tell me he was sweating.

I looked at his shoulders and his back and it looked like he just got out of the shower and didn’t dry off. I again asked him if he wanted to stay home, but he still said no. I washed him up and dried him off only to have him wet again from sweat.

The Hospice says from his M.S.A. his internal furnace is stuck on high. Afterwards while we are waiting for the bus I heard him snoring. I looked at him and he was sound asleep. He did wake up when the bus came but he was quiet. So what is the black?

Picture it & Write/ Ermilia


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Jon felt his life was just putting too much pressure on him. He seemed to believe that he didn’t have a life. Pieces of his soul had been ripped and torn; given to others. Every time he tried to connect a piece of the puzzle back together the goal was broken.

He sat now looking down. Using the height of magnitude he was able to see where it started. His parents owned a business. He became their gopher boy. Running errands, fixing meals, taking care of baby sister.

In between these jobs he tried to go to school. Concentrating on learning was replaced by what he had waiting for him at home to complete. He wanted good grades. He dreamed of going to college. He could taste the success of becoming a doctor.

But by the time he finished instructions left for him he was too tired to study. He would fall asleep after his parents came home. He would wake up, drool lying on the pages of his book.

As time progressed and he wasn’t needed for a sitter so much his rules were changed from sitter to driver. He learned about money. He paid bills, he budgeted his parents checkbooks.

One time he even had to barter with the electric company because his parents had let the bill slip by and he was the one who had to make arrangements to get it turned back on.

His gift to learn was his key to him keeping good grades. When his counselor called him in and offered him applications for colleges he quickly grabbed them. When he got home and he had the little bit of time to call his own, he filled them out. The next day he was back in the school office turning his pages in.

When the news came that he had been accepted his heart jumped out of his body. Genuine smiles were seen in each class. He was going to be a doctor. But how was he going to get a way? How was he going to claim his right to live as his own?

When he went to bed each night, he made the time to pray. He prayed for a way to escape. He needed space. Night after night the ritual went on.

The day came. It was graduation day. He walked proudly through the line accepting his diploma when his name was called. He looked out over the crowd hoping to see the glow from his parents’ but only his mother had made time to attend. Even his sister had not made it a priority to show up.

That night holding his diploma in his hand he realized that he had one week before it was time to leave. A new life was holding the doors open for him. His name was on the list. Tugs were pulling at his heart. He needed, no he wanted and desired this opportunity more than anything in life.

When he fell asleep he had a dream. He was sitting below the heavens. Placed on a cloud of success with his name on it he looked over his life and at the lessons he had learned. Determination and not giving up were his biggest teachers.

Now he turned a way. He looked towards the doors being held open for him and the cloud steered him in through the open ways of a bigger and better life. The world was his and he was not going to let it pass him by. He was on his way to becoming a doctor.pictureitandwrite2copy-1

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#FWF Free Write Friday, Childhood Gift


http://kellieelmore.commy mom and dad

 

Write about your most memorable childhood gift. Was is a Christmas gift? A Birthday gift? Was is something you really wanted or was it a surprise that ended up holding a sentimental place in your heart? What do you remember? How did it make you feel?

I was really a lucky kid when I look back at birthdays and Christmas Day. I didn’t ask for things like kids do today. My requests were all about dolls and bikes. Normal things, not too pricey.

There were no iPad, and cell phones. So I didn’t get yelled at or hear things like, what in the world are you thinking? Do you think we are made out of money? You better rewrite that list.

It didn’t matter what age I was I always received what I asked for. I didn’t give it much thought back then. What kid does? All I knew is what i wished so hard for I got. There were two Christmas Day’s and one birthday that I remember better than any others.

One year when I was about 7, I received a Chatty Cathy Doll.chatty cathy The next year when I was 8, I received Baby Thumbelina.

thumbelina1These two photos are exactly like the dolls I owned. The year I turned ten for my birthday I received my very first brand new bike.

Large_Classic_Schwinn_CruisMine was just like this but it was apple red.

As I stated in the beginning I was a lucky kid. Oh, it wasn’t because I received the gifts I wanted more than anything.

It was because I had a new Mom in my life. I came from a broken home and Mom did her best. She had no training. She was just thrown into the situation. We were here first children she cared for.

I think that now that I am grown and have my own children and grandchildren;  I can see and understand the pain that children can put us through. I can see how strong Mom was. She did a good job.

Mom if you aren’t too busy hanging out with God, l hope you turn your ear down here on earth and hear me saying, you were the best Mom ever. Love and miss you. I will see you  again.

book4free-write-friday-kellie-elmore

#FWF Free Write Friday; Pick a Title


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Here is your FWF prompt…

Select a title from the list below as your inspiration:

“Dandelion Season”
“Phone Call at Midnight”
“The Green Years”
“The Human Zoo”
“The Fires of Spring”
“The Ivy Covered Gate”

Phone Call at Midnight

Brian was a cocky teen. He was the son of a President of the local bank. His mother didn’t work outside the home. She was involved with many charities and either at meetings or hosting parties at their Bellville home.

Every one who was anyone envied this family. Money, fortune, cars, luxuries and beyond was theirs. People did their best to be good friends with Robert and Sandra. Sandra wore a pasted smile on her face when ever she was out in public but underneath she was a stalker.

A stalker of actions. She watched everyone. She  knew that it wasn’t her that people craved, it was her money. She assumed that there was an outside reason that so many wanted to friend her.

Her heart had gold bars around it and she never had found the key to open it up. She was like a delicate egg. You handled with care and didn’t upset with wrong words. I guess she didn’t really know any better although I believe myself, that as an adult you can surely make changes in your life if you don’t like who or what you represent. Her own parents had married into money. She learned what she saw.

Robert also had come from old money. He had been taught to stomp on who ever got in his way. Success was the bold, highlighted word in his own made-up dictionary. He was stern-faced, clean-shaven. A suit and tie guy. His heart was made of steel and there was no key in the beginning. Breaking him would be a difficult task to say the least.

They had one child. They didn’t really want this child but you were no one if you didn’t produce an heir. As soon as Brian was born he was gifted into the arms of a nanny. As he began school he would come home excited to show his  parents what he had made that day to be brushed off and end up showing his prize to the nanny silhouette.

He made plenty of friends. He was invited to every party as he got older. He could have any girl with his good looks, but he hated himself. How can one be so popular and yet have a sour taste when he hears his name.

In his senior year, he was so empty his heart ached. He had the shining key but he didn’t know how to use it. He had never been taught how to show his affections. No one had ever sat down with him and said those three magic words I love you.

His parents filled their pockets, their guest lists increased but at midnight on Brian’s graduation day his parents received a phone call. It was one of his friends he hung out with. He was calling to say that Brian was at his house. He was stuttering as he told Robert and Sandra, ” the police just left here. They are on their way to your house. They are going to give you some bad news. I just wanted to give you heads up. Brian hung himself in my clothes closet tonight.

Upon hearing the voice over the phone, Robert hung it on its cradle and looked over at his wife who was soundly sleeping. He tapped her until he got her a wake. She sat up grumbling, “what is it? I have a headache. Can’t you wait until tomorrow?”

As Robert broke the news a sound came from the floor. They both looked down. When they reached down to pick up what they had heard  they stared at each other as they looked into the others hands.

Three keys, one gold, one steel and one shiny. All three were scratched around the edges. All three had edges that were worn down. The two sat and waited for the police, staring at the keys.

gold keysteel keyshiny keyfree-write-friday-kellie-elmore