Ice

1,000's of years ago our world went into an ice age. The Flowing rivers froze to ice and the constant moving oceans stood still. The magnetic poles grew more powerful so slowly the continents got pushed and pulled to two sides of the planet. Orlea in the north and Nuva in the south. And all the was left in between was a frozen wasteland that went on for thousands of miles. This ice land had never been fully explored, a group of scientist from Orlea had set out but never came back. The continents  grew they adapted to their new home. Orlea found precious diamonds and minerals in their crust and became a continents of shinning cities and busy towns. Nuva on the other hand found that its calling was in the earth too but not as sparkly and expensive. Nuva's calling was hidden in the thick trunks of 100 year old trees. Orlea created new jewelry and nova created new axes, and everything was calm. Until one day and small noise echoed front eh ice and it set the world into havoc. 

My grandfathers death

That night I had burrowed into a futon with a set of rough, thin, white sheets. I had tried everything counting sheep, breathing slowly, and pulling the cold covers above my head. I was there with my family, their laughs still echoed in my ears from the previous day.  But all that noise was gone now, and I was left in the complete silence.  It was morning by the time I sat up accepted sleep wasn’t coming. I could hear movement through the house, a drawer close or a door shut. Then I heard the soft ring of the doorbell and people were coming into the house. My aunt was crying and someone’s shoes were pacing back forth in the kitchen.  After I could take it no longer I pulled my self up and crept down the hallway.  The floor was icy cold when my bare feet touched it and the crisp morning air lingered in the house from and open window. When I reached the living room it was filled with only a few people. My grandparent’s neighbor, my aunt and uncle, my parents and some people I didn’t know. They all crowed around something so I pushed my way through and found they had circled around a white gurney. On the bed was my grandfather, his skin once rosy and warm now as pale and cold as ice.  The people I didn’t know were talking to grandma and she was crying but I wasn’t listening. MY mind had blocked out everything.  I was trying to remember my grandpa because I knew what these people were here for. The people grabbed the gurney and pulled it down the hallway. The squeaky wheels scratched the sideboards but grandma never lifter a finger. 

My grandma served breakfast to everyone that morning, but I couldn’t taste any of it.  There were eggs, pancakes, and orange juice all of those were my favorite and just seeing them would have made my mouth water.  But now my eyes were keeping all the water in my body to them selves and waterfalls of sweet and salty tears ran down my cheeks.  When my grandma saw that I wasn’t eating anything she pulled me aside and told me to go back to sleep. Her voice cracked and wobbled and I told her she should sleep too. She laughed and I laughed but both were fake. We both knew we weren’t getting any sleep. 

Exams

My pencil sharpened
my mind overflowing with notes
a blank paper
and i'm ready to go
my legs are still
and my hands don't  shake
but inside my mind aches
this whole year
all the lectures
but my brain is clear
what do I do
the tests are passed out
on the ground I tap my shoe
question one  the square root of  pie
this will be a long test
oh my

Life

Today I ate
and she starves
today I learned
and she works
today I laughed
and she cried
today I helped
and she smiled

What did you do today?

You need a Helping Hand

There is never a moment where I’m ungrateful. To live your life you have to love, and to love you need a helping hand.

First chapter of the Helping hand

Many stories start happy then go bad then get happy again.  Well mine is different. My life was different.  When I was little I would lie in my bed and think hard about why I deserved such odds. It’s as if god had forgotten we were there; just put us aside so he could write a happy ending for everyone else. I’m not saying I was unhappy, but I had nothing and my family had nothing. It’s just I wasn’t a very good writer and trust me our story was my homework.

  The sun crept through the night sky, peering behind trees and mountains.  Everywhere it went it left a small ray of light. It snuck through the thick forest and the mountains. It followed a little brown bear up to the top of a tree and gave light to the world. 

The thick swamps, the green forest, the fresh air, and our log cabin nestled in the woods.  My name is Annie Drolinger and I live in Wisconsin. When I was born Ma wanted to move to the city, but Pa had grown up in this house and did not intend to leave it.  So we stayed. We rebuilt the roof and wooded the floor. Even though the house looked different it was still the same, and it held millions of stories and untold secrets.

Pa loved the old house and the land and since I was the only child I got to help Pa in the fields. I loved the sun beating down on my back, the sweat dripping down my face, and taking a cold bath in the creek afterwards.  But my life wasn’t even close to perfect:  my family was poor.  I mean I didn’t even have decent shoes. The people in the city did so why couldn’t I?  But no matter what, I loved Wisconsin and the rolling hills, thick forests, and the freedom.

But more than Wisconsin I loved stories.  I loved the good old tails of heroes and treasures, and boy did my Pa liked to tell them. My favorite is about Christopher Columbus, but Pa had his own twist. When Columbus came to America he left something, a treasure full of money and maps and all adventure stuff.  Many people have tried to find it but it’s stays hidden to this day. He says it’s here in Madison and when I was little I would ask him every day “Can we go out looking for Christopher Columbus’s treasure?” Pa would giggle and shake his head and say that he had to open shop or leave early.

But I knew it was out there because Pa told the story with such excitement he made me believe it. I would get so caught up in finding the treasure that I had to remind myself that it was just a story. As I got older the log cabin wasn’t big enough for all of us, evens stories didn’t calm me I felt like something bad was coming. 

I didn’t eat or sleep, I would lie in my bed for hours listening to a horned owl waiting for it to stop, but it never did. Each day our money box grew lighter, each day weighing less. Until one day it was empty. 

All of this fell through my mind like a flood. My stomach curled and I got up out of bed, and walked to the kitchen. I grabbed a glass of milk and sat down by the fire. The whispers of the city tiptoed through my house and it began to open my mind to a million different thoughts. The story of my life was unraveling.

Last snowfall

At the first snow fall

New hopes are born

Trees are up 

Wrapping paper is torn

You write a letter to that old Santa Clause

And hope for a bear with fuzzy paws

So many happy faces

And boxes covered in laces

All the lights

And a Christmas tree so tall

At the first snow fall