It Makes Me Sick
It Makes Me Sick
Today while was helping Al to feel the Christmas spirit, outside in the world it was gruesome. In our local news the headlines were, A School Teacher was involved in some form of sexual action with a student. There may have been touching.
This made me ill. How many days and days are we going to hear this? Why didn’t I run for the bathroom and vomit? Because we are getting used to hearing those ugly words. The police are keeping their lips sealed it is so brutal. The school is clamming up but did say they fired the person.
What about the student? Touching? It lets my mind wander? Was he/she hurt? Were they raped?
In another big headline, and I hate using this term like they do. It isn’t headline news. It is sick news. Another school shooting. What is going on? Can this all be blamed on the fact that God is being taken out of the schools? Should the parents be blamed? How do we fix this when the first thing the news does is go into detail about how the shootings happen. What ingredients, guns, forms were used. What a way to give another mixed up person bad ideas to get in the spot light.
Last week a girl who left her home was found in a woods and of course she was dead. She had been missing for some time. She was a teen attacked by a brutal sick person.
I just want to scream I am so sick of hearing this. I can’t fix it, not all by myself. I don’t even know what it will take to fix the world. Maybe start all over, a new world. The words rape, brutal, shootings, teacher molestation, church sexual scandals, drugs, these all make me want to vomit, it all makes me sick, because I can’t fix it.
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, DP, Daily Prompt
If you could take a break from your life and go back to school to master a subject, what would it be?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us MASTERY.
The very first thing I would do if I could go back to school is forget the opposite sex. Yes, I mean guys. Yes, they are nice, but when you are a teen, a girl, guys can really get in the way.
In the way of learning, of exploring new interests, working hard, getting better grades. Oh I didn’t do bad in school. I got A’s, B’s and C’s; but what if I would have concentrated more on my future, instead of living for the moment.
Yes, you guessed it, I was boy crazy. A normal teenager looking at boys any chance I had.
Getting fair grades, but able to do better. More interested in how short I could get by with my length of dresses and skirts.
It all sounds crazy when I look back now, but it is so important for teens to feel like they fit in. To be accepted can make it or break it for a young person
I never got in any trouble when I was growing up. I never saw the teacher’s paddle. I never had to sit in the corner with my dunce cap on.
In my adult life, I have been to college to take some classes to see how much I have slipped through the years. I have entered the Nursing Program twice.
Each time I was part way through Al would end up in the hospital.
You can’t miss many classes. When I spent most of every day sitting with Al I would drop out and promise myself to go back later.
Later has never came and now that I am nearing an age where employers would question my alertness and good judgement, I will settle for what I have learned.
Which is hands on hands training. Real patients, in real home situations. Getting involved with patients on a more personal level, mixing it up with involvement with family members.
Without my hands on training I may not have been able to grab a hold of the opportunity to care for Al at this stage of his illness.
God knew all the time that I didn’t really have to have that diploma from a college. He knew I would struggle to pay back those expensive school loans.
So he did what he knew was perfect for me, taught me as I lived life. Isn’t God fabulous? Isn’t it amazing how much he knows and yet we do everything in our power to solve our own problems first before finally turning to him for help.
It has been minutes for the parents who lost their loving children. For me it has been hours since I heard the news. My heart is still breaking, but I am also getting very frustrated and a little angry.
I want to blame someone, anyone, but there is no one particular to blame, because the guilty party was only a giant for a few moments before he became a coward and turned the gun on himself.
I would have great thoughts running around in my head if my children were still in school. I can’t tell you honestly what I would do. The mother in me would want to yank my kids out of school and teach them at home. It seems the weak are the targets. Is my brother safe where he is? I think that my thoughts would be like this; some training from me in tutoring is better than more training at a school where my worry would always be with me whether my babies are safe or not.
Who can we blame? Should we blame the animal, our society, lack of morals in our world, maybe the animal’s parents. I could go on and on. I live in a smaller size city. I always thought nothing could happen in this little town. Drunks and speeding, maybe a fight once in a while, but let me tell you something. In our 35.000 population we have had teachers molesting students, rapes, murders.
What about the smaller towns who have been bombarded by animals, taking out people’s breathing, and then going into the courts and pleading insanity. Can you be insane and still plot how many guns you want to take into that business you are considering snuffing out? Can you plot how many rounds to buy? I think someone who can think like this, is not close to being insane.
It will not surprise me at all that this 20-year-old brat got into a tiff with his mother, and instead of doing what I used to do, turn and walk away or go outside to pout, pulls out a gun and shoots his mother because he wasn’t getting his own way! To pay her double back, he goes and kills her students? All because he had no control over his anger? Then the coward shoots himself. Sure, he knew he didn’t want to be drug through the court systems or be placed behind bars.
We need tough love. We need to teach our children about love, respect, not getting your own way, that life isn’t fair, that we are going to hurt, cry, feel pain, and also feel joy and happiness. We can’t be our kids friends, it is almost impossible! How can we set a good example if we are going to place ourselves on a friendship level.
I watched a show last night where the woman wanted to mentor a teen girl. Great idea right? It backfired on her though. The adult let herself go to the level of the teen in order to be good friends. They were both doing things that could have caused jail time, but luckily it was a television show, and the teen realized what was happening and went and made peace with her own mom.
We are taught as little kids that we will have fairy tale lives when we grow up. We are told we are beautiful, that there is no one else like us. This is true to a point. The difference is there are very few fairy tale lives in the world today.
There are way too many people living who have great emotional problems and I realize we can not fix each family’s personal life. The economy sucks, both parents need to work. Some homes have one parent, and even worse, some parents are not even home so the child raises themselves, but yet, we can not blame them can we?
The greed for money and better and bigger homes and three cars and maybe a truck is killing us. It is splitting up some families, in order to pay for these big items. I am not saying we should not want better things, but where do we draw the line. What are you going to take with you when you die? Zero. nada, not one thing. Every material thing on this earth in your possession is going to remain here for someone else to grab or sell. Only your soul and you know where you are going.
I have to stop now. I am going to probably lose some readers for being so outspoken, but I have to say what is on my mind. I don’t know why God allows things to happen here on earth. I don’t know what lessons we are supposed to learn. I can’t even admit that I have not wondered about God in the beginning. I am guilty of this with my brother’s illness, but in the end, I find my way back.
There may be no God, there may be no heaven or hell. Maybe we just die and that is it. We go back to dust or rot in a coffin. Maybe we will leave a mark on this earth, who cares when it is our time to die,and we don’t know where we stand.
I am not going to take the chance. I don’t want to die and then be standing face to face with God or Satan. It isn’t worth turning my back on God, just because I don’t have all the answers. I am not to have all answers. Why, just because.
We need God back in our public places, in our government, in our schools and at work and play. The more we take God out, the more crime rises, the more we lose our loved ones, the more we suffer.
I had to get this off of my chest so I can sleep tonight. I am sorry if I lose some bloggers over this, but maybe, just maybe, someone will really see what I see. Maybe I can give one more person hope, a little more faith. Just maybe ……….
She had seen him at school, the first day she arrived. He was in her first period class, and as each student stood to say their name, she made sure to write his down on her notebook. Brian, saying it out loud, but softly as she went over and over the letters she had written down. She was sitting one row over from him and two seats back.
As she was looking at the teacher while she was speaking, Robin could see his black curly hair. She kept her gaze on him and the teacher. The teacher probably thought that she was the most attentive student in class!
Robin didn’t see him any other time of the day but lunch, and she found him sitting with his buddies at a table. There was no way she was going to try to sit with him, with it being an all guy table. She took her lunch tray and intentionally walked beside the table, brushing her body softly up against his as she walked by, and then stopping and apologizing for bumping into him.
He looked up at her with those big, brown eyes, and his bright whites, smiled at her, and he winked, saying no problem, forget it, and then he went back to talking to his friends. Robin walked over to a table and sat with a couple of girls she knew, but she didn’t really hear anything that was being said, as she was mesmerized by the guy with the pearly whites.
School ended for the day, and she was at her locker getting her books together to take home to study, when he walked by, and just as he was about past her, he stopped and backed up and said, ” Hey, I’m Brian, and you are?” Robin told him her name, and he said hi and then walked on to where he was headed.
He had spoken to her! He had made an effort to stop by and ask her name! She was so excited, she could feel her heart beating out of her chest. She grabbed the rest of what she needed, and slammed the locker door shut and went home.
At home, the house was quiet, and she found a note on the kitchen table from her mom, letting her know she was going to be a little late. Could she go ahead and get the salad prepared and the carrots peeled for supper, plus set the table.
Robin was in such a good mood, that she not only followed her mom’s directions, she started a load of laundry and ran the sweeper in the living room. When her mom arrived home, she made a big deal about what a good kid she was, and gave her a big hug.
Since mom was home, Robin went to her bedroom and pulled out her books and did some studying, every once in a while stopping to think about Brian. Her mom came to her door and tapped on it and said she had a phone call.
Robin put a book marker in her book and got up and went to the living room phone, and after saying hello, she heard the voice, his voice, it was Brian! Her legs quivered and her gut felt warm. She could feel butterflies flying around in her stomach. She heard the other side of the phone saying, game, Friday night, 6p.m., and then there was silence. She heard again, are you there, did you hang up? Robin coughed and said oh yes! I would love to go!
She had a date! She was going out with Brian, this Friday night! Oh my gosh! She then heard the words, alright see you at the football field by the bleachers Friday, and before she could say anything else, he hung up.
She hung up the phone and practically ran to the kitchen to tell her mom the exciting news. Her mom was busy finishing up with supper, and told her how nice that was, that she was happy for her, and with that, Robin went to her bedroom, and instead of going back to her studies, she climbed on top of her bed, and jumped up and down so high, she felt like she was jumping to heaven.
The jack-o-lantern was lit and laughter from the eyes could be seen bouncing inside its shell. Ghosts were hanging from the trees blowing softly in the winds. Orange and black lights lit the driveway. Treats were over flowing the bowl. She was ready for the cute little trick-or-treaters.
Each year, this grown woman brought the child out in herself. She got excited and giddy about the holiday, Halloween. She would start shopping the goodwill stores a month before the night of the living dead. She would look for items that matched the night, and then take them home, and when she had enough collected, she would spend a couple of days putting her costume together.
The night did come, and she fed her family, and helped her own kids get ready for their own fun night. Her husband went to the den and read the evening paper and then drifted off to sleep in his easy chair, but not her. The excitement would begin. She would put her newly put together out fit on, and then along with her bowl of treats, she would go outside to sit in her lawn chair awaiting the arrival of her little visitors.
As she was sitting outside, the sun had just set, and the shadows of the trees cast odd shapes against the sky and homes next door to her. There was a light breeze blowing, sending the home-made ghost fly to and fro through the air, making them come to life for anyone walking by. Howling dogs could be heard down the block, and even a stray black cat made its way across her driveway. She was thankful she didn’t have any ladders standing close by, as her non-belief of superstitions also brought her hairs to stand on end on her arms.
She was gazing out over the neighborhood when she noticed her first bunch of trick-or-treaters. They came up to her door and stood a few feet back from her, not expecting to see a big witch sitting in front of them.
Her voice cried out a scary sound and when you heard the words following them, the kids relaxed and came up closer to her, as she echoed the words of happy Halloween my pretties. The kids started giggling and held out their bags to be filled with candies. Soon all disappeared from her porch and made their way to the next house.
Time went by too quickly as she was entertaining group after group. Word had spread between the kids so most were not startled when they came close to the real witch. By now, most kids had disappeared into their own homes, as the hours of treating were coming to an end.
Then one trick-or-treater walked up to her and said the familiar words and she pulled some last treats from her bowl and started to place them into his bag. This one was a big kid for sure. He must have stood over five feet tall, and his voice was a little raspy. She asked him if he was catching a cold, and he nodded no. She had placed the goodies in his bag and was taking her arm away when he reached out and grabbed it, holding on to it and with raking claws drew blood causing streaks of red to slowly drip down her arm. With his other arm, he reached up and grabbed her around the back of her neck and jerked her quickly up to his face where he bit her nose completely off. She began to gasp as she tried to breathe but the only thing she could do is gasp for air using her lungs.
She started to scream, asking him what he was doing and who he was, and as her words came out he took a bite from her tongue and spit it out on the ground. His eyes drilled into hers and she could feel anger and hatred speaking to her. She tried to fight and escape but her lawn chair kept her in place, and rasping breaths were making her weak. With her good hand left she raked her nails across his mask and yanked it off to see the familiar face of a kid down the street.
This kid was a disturbed kid, who she had at one time watched for his mother. He was suffering from an emotional childhood, and carried his past into his presence. While watching him she had many times laid him down on the couch and told him to rest, so that she could get her wits back while he had spent many moments trying to torture her with his mind. She eventually after exercising every idea she could, had let the mother know that she could no longer take care of him, that she would have to find another sitter.
Tonight he had decided to take back his control over her. He taunted and teased her. He tortured her mind. He used his mechanical claws and continued to draw blood in areas that had once been untouched by blood. After she became so weak she could no longer fight, he drug her by her feet and took her out to the trees.
With him he had brought barn rope and he flung the rope across a nice solid branch and then proceeded to make a noose. He placed her feet in the noose and then wrapped them securely, and then raising the rope, brought her up off the ground, leaving her to hang up side down, and he cackled and snorted,and the soul that was lost, was no found bearing its existence here in her front yard.
He took one more glance at her, making sure she was not slipping to the ground, and then he told her to have a happy Halloween and he raced into the darkness, leaving her to die. Her husband had waken from his after dinner sleep and went through the house looking for his wife, so that he could ask her if she had enjoyed herself on this hallow night. He didn’t see her anywhere, and he kept calling her name but no answer returned.
He opened the front door and gasped as he saw red splashes of blood on the porch. He glanced both ways to see if he could see anyone around, and seeing no movement, he made his way off of the porch and then a glimpse of the flowing ghosts caught his eye and he walked over to where they were hanging from the tree and in between the ghosts hung his wife.
Her face was white, and he knew she was dead. He quickly ran to the shed and grabbed his cutters and the ladder. He ran back to the tree, almost tripping over one big tree root, but caught himself and made it safely to her. He leaned his head into her chest, and he heard a faint heart beat. She was alive! He quickly set the ladder up and climbed up and began to cut her feet loose. He knew he had to be careful though, or he would cut too far, dropping her on her head, so he cut half way through the noose, and then removed himself from the ladder and following the rope with his eyes, found the end of it, that had been tied to another branch on the tree next to this.
He ran over to it and slowly, using every strength he had, gently let the rope slide up letting her softly be lowered. He finally had her down. He raced over to her screaming at her if she was alright. She could not talk, and then he turned his head away from her and vomited all over the ground, as he observed that there was only half of a tongue.
Her heard her gasping and then noticed in the dark that her nose was gone. He raced into the house and called for an ambulance. He explained briefly what he had discovered with his wife and soon he could hear the screams racing down the road to his house.
Once there they stated she was alive, but barely, they immediately placed oxygen over her mouth, and then covered her face to keep as much dirt off of her face while they transferred her to the hospital.
He picked himself up off the ground and left his ladder and cutters lay where they were. He went inside the house and washed his hands erasing the blood stains from himself. He cursed himself for not being awake, for taking non needed naps after supper. He may have been able to prevent this torture from happening. He got in his car and took off for the hospital, and after he disappeared out of sight, claws reached down and were grabbing the cutters.
Today I am writing for Kellie, over at
http://kellieelmore.com. Each week she gives a writing prompt, and then I need to do something with it. So now I will give it a try!
Kindergarten. I have a couple of memories of Kindergarten that stick out in my mind. The school I attended had been just built, so our class was the first one to attend and graduate on the front porch. Now the school has been added on many times, and there is no longer that special porch, that I have proof of with my little cap and gown, anymore.
I remember my grandma walked me to school the first couple of days, and now looking back I know why she did it in the first place. I am terrible at directions. Now you are going to laugh at this, I am sure, but from my house, all eyes could see the red, big brick building, and yet my first day that I walked home from school, I had gotten lost. Isn’t that so pathetic? A block a way, and I lose my way. Sort of like Little Bo Peep! To this day, I have to use a GPS, plus make that same road trip a few times, before it is lodged in my head forever. Some things we do carry through out our lives, I am living proof!
I remember that inside the school-house there was a very big doll house, that stood taller than us kids, and you could go inside of it and play or talk with other classmates during recess times in the winter. Back in those days, you were not shoved out into the cold, just because it was recess. There were alternatives.
I had a six-year-old crush on a boy named Timmy. He must have had a baby crush on me also, because he and I would go inside the house and sit together on the benches and hold hands. Oh, if my mother only knew what I was doing at recess, she may have blown the whistle on my innocent flirting! lol. The teacher must either not have noticed that we did this, or she thought nothing of it. Back then words like molesters, rapes, child endangerment, were not part of our home vocabulary. If these crimes were being committed, it was always in the bigger cities. Our little town was safe!
We also had to take our rest mats and lie down either on the floor, or we could choose to rest our heads on our hands on top of our desk. Either way, Timmy and I always managed to be near enough to each other, so we could wink or smile or wave at each other.
As far as learning goes, which is what we are to do in school, I only know by going back to my report cards, what kind of student I was. I got all S’s, so I must have been keeping up, but I could find one thing in common all through my elementary years, and that was the comments made under the conduct section. Grades K-6, always stated that I talked out loud, and talked too much. One year I saw a comment, where the teacher had left my parents a little note, stating she, the teacher, had moved me several times during the year, and could never find me a seat where I would remain quiet.
This also has carried on through out my whole life. If my situation was different, and I was out in society more, I can be known to talk your leg off. I am sure that one of my friends looks at her watch, when she calls me, to make sure she has the abundant time to talk to me, because we are usually on the phone for an hour. My excuse is to her that I don’t see her often, so I have lots to say, but the truth is, I love to talk. Life, thoughts, dreams, my life as a caregiver, you name it, I talk.
I do remember learning how to count and learn the alphabet and tying my shoes according to the singing directions of Captain Kangaroo. Now a days, you have to know all of this plus your address, phone number etc. I wonder why they have kindergarten anymore. What do they teach, first grade?
The last day of school for kindergarten came, and when Timmy and I were sitting on our oh so familiar bench, we both heard the teacher say that recess was over and to all return to our seats. It was like Timmy knew that he would never be coming to this school again, because he quickly gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then ran out of the doll house, and I never did see him again.
Oh for those innocent fun days of learning again. No bills, no cheating lovers, no time clocks, just fun and learn, all combined into one!!!!
I did it! I went to my class reunion! I walked in the front door and became very shy like I knew I would. For about the first third of the evening, I smiled and answered when spoken to, but then I became a little more confident, as more and more people came to me saying they loved my blog, and asking how Al was doing. I was amazed! I didn’t know so many read my stories.
We seem to use a lot of names that are not truly our real names, so I don’t recognize most of the people who comment, other than the blog names.
This forced me to tell more about my writing and answer questions about a book I may have etc. Before long, I was actually laughing again. I felt so weird inside, I have to admit, because I caught myself several times looking to the back of me to see if Al was alright, but he was not there.
I had a good time and when it was officially over, I didn’t want to leave, as so many others stayed, but I didn’t want to turn back into a pumpkin, for being late at the strike of the clock. I was so sure that I would not feel that comfortable, that I told the caregiver I would be home when it was over. I raced to my car and sped home, feeling like that teenager all over again, not wanting to get scolded or grounded and not to be able to go out and play again!
I fit in! I even looked like most others! I misjudged myself. I thought I was so darn fat and so old-looking, that people would think I was the leper from the bible and walk by, but too many came to me and knew me without reading my name tag, and I realized for this one day, that there was still the old me hiding inside, that got to come out and play and laugh one more time.
I am so glad that many of you pushed me and encouraged me to go. Other wise I would have stayed home. I want to thank all of you for allowing the old me to reappear last night!