I am Kristy Neal. My friends describe me as a laid back person, very easy to get along with. My dad says my kids will be well balanced. I usually just listen to all the drama, and don’t have any of my own to brag about. Until the night I got the phone call. The instigator called yet again.

My name is Kayce Sonaker. My friends describe me as feisty. I care a lot about what others think, and often try to be cool by being a “hardass.” I am full of attitude and am proud of it. This weekend I am going to my friend Chase’s house, he is neighbors with that Hanna girl Kristy. I hate her stupid *** friend, Chloe. “Look, yo Tessa, her mom is out of town, I can see her house from here.” “I know, we ‘bout to go up there and see if Chloe is up there, I HATE her!” I respond by picking up my 2001 phone and dialing all of Westside to come fight these “Hanna B*tches.” I am excited by my success, ALL of my friends are on their way. With fever creeping up in my voice I say, “I’m ‘bout to call her skank***, Tessa. If she wants to mess with you, then we gonn’ mess with her!” “Dang it, Chloe ain’t answering.” Tessa replies saying “Well, let’s just go show her whats up then.”
The girl angrily walks across the yard, ending in Kristy’s driveway. “Kayce! Chloe’s car ain’t here.” “SO, where the BEEP is Kristy?” I sprint through the cold air, full of adrenaline. My throat is starting to hurt from all the yelling I have already been doing. “Tessa, Knock on the door.” “No, you.” “Fine, I ain’t no pussy.”
“Bang! Bang!” the door rattles with my fist. I see people moving behind the door. “Open up! What, are you scared or something?” I hear the familiar sound of my homies system comin’ to help out. Finally, Kristy opens the door. Some guy is holding it, trying to protect her. “You little crack whore, you wanna fight? Step on out BEEP. What, are you BEEP scared?” I continue to rattle off so fast she stands there still, looking shocked. Kristy replies with a surprised “Who are you? I don’t even know you, why are you trying to fight me?” I replied saying “You called me a beeping redneck you beep. I know who you are, a crack whore, you’re so skinny.” I began to repeat myself; I didn’t know what else to say. The pressure was on; if I didn’t keep on talking and cussing I would look stupid just standing there at some girl’s doorway. “So, where the beep is Chloe anyway?” Cussing and more cussing, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I think I impressing my friends though. Kristy finally gives the ultimatum “If you do not leave my house right now then I am calling the cops.” “Call the beeping cops then.” The door shuts with Kristy’s phone to her ear. I realize I have had enough drama for the night and walk back to Chase’s house.

Reflection

Every piece i have done in this class has been intersting. Creative Writing has been a learning expirience, drawing my thoughts out painfully at times. I hate having to write every single day, yet at the same time i realize that it has enhanced my writing. Even when i am not in the mood, Mrs. Turner makes think, think, and think some more. I enjoy the freedom we have in the class as well. The lax atmosphere helps my writing improve.
Writing my Lipstick poem was very entertaining. It brought back fun times. I sat in my desk for an hour and a half writing only five lines or so. I enjoy having time to think and try to use my creativity. I thought about a woman's nightlife and how important lipstick was to her self confidence and sexuality. With the poem My Morning Expirience I loved this piece because of the surprise ending. I liked keeping the readers wondering what I needed so bad every morning. "Can't Stop Lovin' You" was a fun story to writing. I liked how we had a group in which we could write the piece together. It is exciting and cheesy. Boredom is the most prominent feeling I have during school. Every student can relate to this poem, excluding the ones in my third block:). The People Poem involved a fun activity. We got to stroll through the school, recording the actions of other people. This was one of my favorite poems.

While writing these pieces, I was constantly changing them. I wrote the excercise of the day, then while typing them on the computer, I would end up revising them. For example, with the People Poem I wrote about a boy in the gymnasium, I had a hard time writing it. I ended up changing the wording of most of it before I posted it to my blog. The inbetween step of putting the pieces of Google Docs and Spreadsheets was often my revising point.

I enjoyed these blogs because of the major perk of being able to read the whole classes writing. I learned different techniques and recognized how unique everyone is with the different styles of writing I came upon. I got a view of the deeper, darker side of life when reading Dean's writing. He wrote all these pieces with quick efficiency, which was inspiring. Blair also had very creative writing. I liked her piece called "She's Everything." It was very creative, my favorite part was "Shes the gravel in the driveway, and the pictures throughout the house Shes that old priceless piano with the keys that need to be tuned" I enjoy the repetitiveness and liked how she described the woman by the things in her life.

"Can't Stop Lovin' You!"

Miguel stared down Jose with hatred in his eyes, "Don't do this! We are engaged! Isabella and I are going to start a life together." Jose quickly turned away, with Miguel's precious fiancee in his grasp. The smell of burning rubber wafted through his nose as the black Denali slipped away. The cloud of smoke billowed towards him, encouraging the tears to stream from Miguel's eyes. He sat in shock, thinking back to all the walks on the beach, late night phone calls, and big bear hugs, wondering if those sweet moments so dear to his heart would ever come back again.
As he finally got the strength to walk away, he started toward his favorite spot on the beach where he would always sit and think. He pondered on many thoughts of what he could possibly do to help. As he sat and wondered, tears flowing from his face, he finally realized what he had to do. Looking around in his jacket pockets, he finally pulls out his cell phone. Hands shaking, fingers numb to the touch of the keys, he quickly dials his dads number. "Dad", Miguel said. From the first word out of Miguel's mouth, his dad knew something was wrong. The influential voice said, "What's wrong, is it bad, do I need to send help?"
Still frantic, Miguel said, "Right away! Something bad has happened to Isabella! She was taken from me just a few minutes ago. I don't exactly know how it happened, but one minute she was in my arms and the next she was gone!"
"Where do you need me to send help to?" said Miguel's father, "Do you have any idea where she could be? I need to give my men as much information as I can. But son, do not worry, I will have Isabella back to you by nightfall." By the next Monday, still nothing. Running out of hope, Miguel called his father back to find out what was going on. "Where is she? Do you have any leads? Who took her? When will I get her back?" In a calm voice his father says, "Son, we are getting closer, you know my men are the best in all of Mexico. You will get her back."
The waiting, wondering, and worrying was taking a tole on Miguel. He was starting to give up hope. He had heard of all the terror stories of women taken over the border, and sold to gangsters in the U.S. He began to think the worst. Miguel wakes up to a familar song, thinking to himself that his phone was playing tricks on him. His finacee's ringtone "Can't Stop Lovin' You" was screaming in his ears. Leaping across room, he flips the phone open with a surprised "Hello?! Honey? Are you okay? Is this you? Where are you?" All Isabella could manage to do was cry and scream "Yes! yes, yes, I'm okay! I'm with your father and I am coming home very soon!"
As they hung up the phone, Miguel could not believe it. He fell to floor and prayed to God and thanked him as much as he could. He thought that he had lost the love of his life for good, but now she was coming back to him. He had never been so happy, so thankful, or so relieved in his entire life.

People Poem

He was fresh cut, walking through the school - seemed to be on a mission using his number one tool
He was with paper and pen, peering around, tapping on people's shoulders, pointing, asking questions. Is he with the school newspaper? Yearbook? As i watch i feel like a stalker, i could even hear his ipod, hangin around his neck - blasting simple plan, then i see the look.
He was startling with eyes of the blue sky, keeping the stars from tumbling down.
He was in faded Levi's, spreading the "spring clean" laundry smell through out the room.

Boredom

Boredom hangs heavy in the classroom
Holding on by the straps of lecturing teachers
Leaving behind vivid images of la la land.

My Morning Expirience

Waking up every morning at seven o'clock - oh, so painful
The darkness is rushing away, leaving a minty fresh light hanging, waiting for action
I stumble down the stairs, trying my hardest to adjust my eyes
The cold tile floor stares hatefully at my warm toes
As i peak around, through squinted eyes - looking searching for
the one thing i need
the one thing i crave
the one thing i have to have
...Orange Juice

Lipstick

Bold, sleek, promiscuous
Tempted easily
Its nightlife is always and forever
The sleek tube is a girls best friend
Keeping her glam
Keeping her famous
Keeping her sexy