I have this discussion on video from my freshmen year of highschool, it's a conversation between my friend, we'll call them D, and myself:
D: "So what do wanna say at the end of this?"
Me: "I just wanna say...that I'm amazing and if you think otherwise you should probably go fall in a well"
D: "That's what I was gonna say!"
Me: "Yay!"
Short, but yet still hilarious. You had to have been there...
Monday, November 7, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
RainbowsOfBob
The story behind my Twitter name, @RainbowsOfBob...
Okay, so a couple years ago I was kind of into some really bad things and all that fun stuff, and I got the nickname "Bobby Llamas" as a code name so people could be like, "oh yeah, drop this off at Bobby's house" without doing any name dropping (which was very necessary considering getting caught for petty drug use would have been pretty bad with all the other unspeakable things I was involved with at that time...)
Well, anyways I eventually got out of all that because I was being a dumbshit in the first place, but as a memento to my past I changed my Facebook name to Bobby Llamas and eventually all my friends just started calling me Bob because half of them didn't even know my name to begin with.
The Rainbows part came out of my other name, Rainbows & Skeletons (gifted to me because some days I was up, the next day not so much, so the dark and light, Rainbows & Skeletons) so you put it all together and it's RainbowsOfBob!
I've had a lot of people ask me if my name was actually Bob or if I'd known someone with that name and that's where it came from, but alas, no! I don't even know where the original Bobby Llamas came from, some friends and I just made it up off the top of our heads!
Okay, so a couple years ago I was kind of into some really bad things and all that fun stuff, and I got the nickname "Bobby Llamas" as a code name so people could be like, "oh yeah, drop this off at Bobby's house" without doing any name dropping (which was very necessary considering getting caught for petty drug use would have been pretty bad with all the other unspeakable things I was involved with at that time...)
Well, anyways I eventually got out of all that because I was being a dumbshit in the first place, but as a memento to my past I changed my Facebook name to Bobby Llamas and eventually all my friends just started calling me Bob because half of them didn't even know my name to begin with.
The Rainbows part came out of my other name, Rainbows & Skeletons (gifted to me because some days I was up, the next day not so much, so the dark and light, Rainbows & Skeletons) so you put it all together and it's RainbowsOfBob!
I've had a lot of people ask me if my name was actually Bob or if I'd known someone with that name and that's where it came from, but alas, no! I don't even know where the original Bobby Llamas came from, some friends and I just made it up off the top of our heads!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
True Story Sunday
This one time in fourth grade, my friend (we'll call her T) really liked this one guy (he'll be S) and basically it was a year of stalking.
We still got playground time back then and S was drinking a juice box right of front of me and T. Well, T watched him the entire time, then when he finished the drink and threw it away, T snuck over to the trash can, grabbed his straw and put it in her pocket.
A couple days later, we were all making folders for some project or whatever, and the teacher allowed us to decorate it anyway we pleased. Well, T decided to dedicate her folder to S. After scribbling their names in hearts all over, she then pulled out of her desk the straw from earlier, a yoyo, a candy bar wrapper, and yes...a lock of his hair. She then pasted the items to the inside of the folder, and for the finishing touch, poked a hole through the front so she could set it on her desk and spy on her "beloved".
As you can imagine, T and I are no longer friends. The last I heard was that she moved across the country after her dad was caught embezzling money or something. I don't know; they were weird.
-Ev67
*New layout! You like?
We still got playground time back then and S was drinking a juice box right of front of me and T. Well, T watched him the entire time, then when he finished the drink and threw it away, T snuck over to the trash can, grabbed his straw and put it in her pocket.
A couple days later, we were all making folders for some project or whatever, and the teacher allowed us to decorate it anyway we pleased. Well, T decided to dedicate her folder to S. After scribbling their names in hearts all over, she then pulled out of her desk the straw from earlier, a yoyo, a candy bar wrapper, and yes...a lock of his hair. She then pasted the items to the inside of the folder, and for the finishing touch, poked a hole through the front so she could set it on her desk and spy on her "beloved".
As you can imagine, T and I are no longer friends. The last I heard was that she moved across the country after her dad was caught embezzling money or something. I don't know; they were weird.
-Ev67
*New layout! You like?
Friday, October 21, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Tattoo Ideas
So I've been designing tattoos for myself the past couple of weeks, and I'm excited to share them!
This one has lyrics from the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry, and the complete verse is "Lord, make me a rainbow; I'll shine down on my mother, she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors".
This is from Blue October's "Jump Rope", saying "It will get hard, life's like a jump rope: Up, down, up, down"
This is from the song "Calling You" by Blue October, and it says "It's not so difficult; the world is not so difficult".
This one has lyrics from the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry, and the complete verse is "Lord, make me a rainbow; I'll shine down on my mother, she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors".
This is from Blue October's "Jump Rope", saying "It will get hard, life's like a jump rope: Up, down, up, down"
This is from the song "Calling You" by Blue October, and it says "It's not so difficult; the world is not so difficult".
Thursday, August 18, 2011
True Story Thursday 1
So everyone knows the band Funeral For A Friend, right?
Well, the first time I heard about them was through some forum on the Internet when I was around eight-years-old (because yes, I was sufficient on the Internet by age five, master of the wicked by age 10).
So anyways, someone made a topic entitled "Funeral For A Friend" and basically all they said about the subject was if people had heard of and/or liked them. Well, at that time, I hadn't at all heard of them.
So me being the clever one I am, I thought that FFAF were a charity for people who couldn't afford the cost a funeral. So then I wanted to donate because I was like, "oh my gosh, that's so sad that people can't afford to bury their friends and family!".
And so then I looked around on Google for at least an hour trying to find more information. But all I could find was this band. And I thought the band was some sort of charity band that played benefit concerts or something.
I didn't put two and two together until almost two years later. Yeah.
True Story Thursday - Ev67
Well, the first time I heard about them was through some forum on the Internet when I was around eight-years-old (because yes, I was sufficient on the Internet by age five, master of the wicked by age 10).
So anyways, someone made a topic entitled "Funeral For A Friend" and basically all they said about the subject was if people had heard of and/or liked them. Well, at that time, I hadn't at all heard of them.
So me being the clever one I am, I thought that FFAF were a charity for people who couldn't afford the cost a funeral. So then I wanted to donate because I was like, "oh my gosh, that's so sad that people can't afford to bury their friends and family!".
And so then I looked around on Google for at least an hour trying to find more information. But all I could find was this band. And I thought the band was some sort of charity band that played benefit concerts or something.
I didn't put two and two together until almost two years later. Yeah.
True Story Thursday - Ev67
Sunday, July 31, 2011
A semi-happy story...
I'd like to tell you the story of my uncle, for the sheer sake of possibly finding some hope that things do get better. This a story of a man fighting for his daughter, and stopping a controlling woman from taking away a person's right to be a parent. Everything is 100% true, aside from the fact that my now ex-aunt's name has been changed, along with their daughter's (my cousin).
First, you have to understand that my uncle, Matt, is a good person. He'd never harm a fly, much less his own daughter. He worked hard to provide for his family and gave them the world. He treated his wife, Janelle, like royalty, and Matilda, his little girl, was his princess. They were his world...So why, why did Janelle suddenly decide to ruin all of that?
When Matilda was around two-years-old, my uncle got up to go to work just like any other day. He kissed her and Janelle goodbye and went about his day. Fast forward eight hours, and he comes home expecting to be greeted by his wife and child, but to his avail, that isn't at all what happened. In the time Matt was gone, Janelle has packed her and Matilda's things, and has left the house to stay with a friend.
Matt eventually gets ahold of Janelle, and they talk things over and agree that Matt should come by said friend's house for further discussion. Thinking the problem has been resolved, Matt agrees to swing by. Little did he know that this would be the beginning of a long fight for his precious Matilda...
When Matt arrives, he casually knocks on the door as any normal person would do. After waiting almost five minutes on the doorstep with no answer, Matt turns to leave...but isn't allowed to, as two police officers are blocking his path as they run towards him and tackle him to the ground. He is confused. One minute he's coming to a friend's home to work out an apparent issue with his wife, the next he's being arrested and charged with harassment.
He doesn't find out until over a year later that when he had arrived at the home, his wife had locked herself and Matilda in a closet and then said Matt was "pounding on the door, yelling that he was going to kill them". The problem? None of that ever happened. The first of her many lies from Janelle.
After the incident, Matt was released from custody, but it's already too late. Janelle and Matilda are now over eight hours away in a completely different state.
Over the next three years, Matt and Janelle fight a bitter fight for custody of the two-year-old little girl. Just like on the aforementioned night the police were first called, more lies seep out of Janelle's mouth, and does anyone question her or hold her accountable?! No! She's the mother, so obviously she knows best. He accused Matt of molesting Matilda and physically abusing her. This prevented him from even seeing his daughter for over an entire year.
Like I said before, this is a good man we're dealing with. He would never hurt Matilda nor his wife, but does anyone investigate her outrageous accusations? Does anybody even ask for Janelle to take Matilda to see a doctor that would give any type of proof that sexual abuse had occured?! Of course not! She's allowed to spew whatever BS she can muster into the courtroom, and is Matt ever given a say? Nope!
Matt was denied access to his own child for over a year just because his "wife" didn't want to share custody of their daughter...and why? Because she cared about Matilda's well-being? Because she thought Matt was a danger to her? No! Because she didn't want to pay child support. Because God forbid she go to work one day of her life, when really it's as simple as popping out a kid and accusing the fathers of abuse.
And yes, I said fatherS. Because Matt wasn't the first person Janelle decided to take around the bend, oh no. Janelle has done this three times, with three seperate men, and three separate children. She marries them, gives birth to their child, then uses them until she's bored. She then flees with said child and digs your grave in court when you try to stop her.
But guess what? Like I said, it gets better. Janelle isn't the brightest crayon in the box to say the least, and since she's already done this several times before, she's only muddied the water for herself. It's the boy who cried wolf all over again. People are only going to believe the lie so many times before it comes back to burn you...oh, and burn her it did!
After those three agonizing years of just trying to see his daughter, Matt was given primary custody of Matilda, and now Janelle is forced to fork out a little over $200 every month to pay HIM in child support. Janelle sees Matilda about one to two months out of the year, but Matt decides when and where.
And yet, all through this, even though Janelle accused him of the unspeakable, Matt has never once denied her access to their daughter. He has never aranged for them to exchange Matilda then blown it off at the last minute. He has never slandered Janelle in front of their child; in fact, he praises her, telling Matilda that she's lucky to have such a great mom. He is a GREAT father, and unfortunately missed out on over a year of his daughter's life simply because his wife wanted more money.
Matilda is now six-years-old and thriving. She lives with her dad, step-mom, and three step-sisters. She's in ballet, and gets straight A's in school. She loves her family and her friends, and she's now the happy princess Matt always intended for her to be.
First, you have to understand that my uncle, Matt, is a good person. He'd never harm a fly, much less his own daughter. He worked hard to provide for his family and gave them the world. He treated his wife, Janelle, like royalty, and Matilda, his little girl, was his princess. They were his world...So why, why did Janelle suddenly decide to ruin all of that?
When Matilda was around two-years-old, my uncle got up to go to work just like any other day. He kissed her and Janelle goodbye and went about his day. Fast forward eight hours, and he comes home expecting to be greeted by his wife and child, but to his avail, that isn't at all what happened. In the time Matt was gone, Janelle has packed her and Matilda's things, and has left the house to stay with a friend.
Matt eventually gets ahold of Janelle, and they talk things over and agree that Matt should come by said friend's house for further discussion. Thinking the problem has been resolved, Matt agrees to swing by. Little did he know that this would be the beginning of a long fight for his precious Matilda...
When Matt arrives, he casually knocks on the door as any normal person would do. After waiting almost five minutes on the doorstep with no answer, Matt turns to leave...but isn't allowed to, as two police officers are blocking his path as they run towards him and tackle him to the ground. He is confused. One minute he's coming to a friend's home to work out an apparent issue with his wife, the next he's being arrested and charged with harassment.
He doesn't find out until over a year later that when he had arrived at the home, his wife had locked herself and Matilda in a closet and then said Matt was "pounding on the door, yelling that he was going to kill them". The problem? None of that ever happened. The first of her many lies from Janelle.
After the incident, Matt was released from custody, but it's already too late. Janelle and Matilda are now over eight hours away in a completely different state.
Over the next three years, Matt and Janelle fight a bitter fight for custody of the two-year-old little girl. Just like on the aforementioned night the police were first called, more lies seep out of Janelle's mouth, and does anyone question her or hold her accountable?! No! She's the mother, so obviously she knows best. He accused Matt of molesting Matilda and physically abusing her. This prevented him from even seeing his daughter for over an entire year.
Like I said before, this is a good man we're dealing with. He would never hurt Matilda nor his wife, but does anyone investigate her outrageous accusations? Does anybody even ask for Janelle to take Matilda to see a doctor that would give any type of proof that sexual abuse had occured?! Of course not! She's allowed to spew whatever BS she can muster into the courtroom, and is Matt ever given a say? Nope!
Matt was denied access to his own child for over a year just because his "wife" didn't want to share custody of their daughter...and why? Because she cared about Matilda's well-being? Because she thought Matt was a danger to her? No! Because she didn't want to pay child support. Because God forbid she go to work one day of her life, when really it's as simple as popping out a kid and accusing the fathers of abuse.
And yes, I said fatherS. Because Matt wasn't the first person Janelle decided to take around the bend, oh no. Janelle has done this three times, with three seperate men, and three separate children. She marries them, gives birth to their child, then uses them until she's bored. She then flees with said child and digs your grave in court when you try to stop her.
But guess what? Like I said, it gets better. Janelle isn't the brightest crayon in the box to say the least, and since she's already done this several times before, she's only muddied the water for herself. It's the boy who cried wolf all over again. People are only going to believe the lie so many times before it comes back to burn you...oh, and burn her it did!
After those three agonizing years of just trying to see his daughter, Matt was given primary custody of Matilda, and now Janelle is forced to fork out a little over $200 every month to pay HIM in child support. Janelle sees Matilda about one to two months out of the year, but Matt decides when and where.
And yet, all through this, even though Janelle accused him of the unspeakable, Matt has never once denied her access to their daughter. He has never aranged for them to exchange Matilda then blown it off at the last minute. He has never slandered Janelle in front of their child; in fact, he praises her, telling Matilda that she's lucky to have such a great mom. He is a GREAT father, and unfortunately missed out on over a year of his daughter's life simply because his wife wanted more money.
Matilda is now six-years-old and thriving. She lives with her dad, step-mom, and three step-sisters. She's in ballet, and gets straight A's in school. She loves her family and her friends, and she's now the happy princess Matt always intended for her to be.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Makeshift Innocence: Chapter 1: Makeshift Innocence 1.1: Battered Rose Records
Hello all, this is my new story; read it or don't~
© Copyright 2012 to Evanescence67
A stingy bar.
Why was I here? Why were any of us here?
"Lacey, you with us?" I see two fingers snap in front of my face.
They belong to my friend and fellow bandmate, Jeremy, attempting to get my attention for the millionth time.
Still, it's all so surreal. How can this be happening?
Six months ago, we were in a filthy club; the opening band, playing our first show. I was so nervous I could barely manage to keep eye contact with the twelve-person audience...Now this.
Not even 65 shows later and here we are; we're being offered a record deal.
"And here are the contracts...if you'll just sign here," the lady points to the packets she has just presented in front of us, "and here," she points to another location, "initial here, on the back, and..." she flips it the other side, "once more signature here, we'll be on our way...to the top" she finishes with a smile.
I stare at the form. "Battered Rose Records" it reads on the top.
"If you guys are sure..." I look around for approval, only to be met with the bewildered expressions of four others.
Finally, Daniel, lead guitarist and the bravest one in the lot of us, picked up a pen, mumbled a "hey, what do we got to lose?", and scrawled his name on the intended dotted line.
Well, what did we have to lose? We were a bunch of 12- and 13-year-old kids. We didn't have a future; half of us didn't even plan on leaving this small, hole-in-the-wall town we were forced to call home. This just might be our only way out.
After a few more moments, pens began to fill the air.
First, Abbey, rhythm guitar extraordinaire; then Jeremy, the bassist; and eventually James, the band's little drummer boy.
I was last up, and only after reading every single line (including the fine print) at least twice, I dared to pick up my pen.
The lady we had come to know as Emily, quickly collected the contracts, glanced over them briefly, finished her drink; and walked out the door.
We sat there collectively, and after two hours, lots of sweat, and even some tears, our little band of Astoria, Oregon; Makeshift Innocence, left that stingy little bar with an official record deal.
© Copyright 2012 to Evanescence67
Part two coming soon...
© Copyright 2012 to Evanescence67
A stingy bar.
Why was I here? Why were any of us here?
"Lacey, you with us?" I see two fingers snap in front of my face.
They belong to my friend and fellow bandmate, Jeremy, attempting to get my attention for the millionth time.
Still, it's all so surreal. How can this be happening?
Six months ago, we were in a filthy club; the opening band, playing our first show. I was so nervous I could barely manage to keep eye contact with the twelve-person audience...Now this.
Not even 65 shows later and here we are; we're being offered a record deal.
"And here are the contracts...if you'll just sign here," the lady points to the packets she has just presented in front of us, "and here," she points to another location, "initial here, on the back, and..." she flips it the other side, "once more signature here, we'll be on our way...to the top" she finishes with a smile.
I stare at the form. "Battered Rose Records" it reads on the top.
"If you guys are sure..." I look around for approval, only to be met with the bewildered expressions of four others.
Finally, Daniel, lead guitarist and the bravest one in the lot of us, picked up a pen, mumbled a "hey, what do we got to lose?", and scrawled his name on the intended dotted line.
Well, what did we have to lose? We were a bunch of 12- and 13-year-old kids. We didn't have a future; half of us didn't even plan on leaving this small, hole-in-the-wall town we were forced to call home. This just might be our only way out.
After a few more moments, pens began to fill the air.
First, Abbey, rhythm guitar extraordinaire; then Jeremy, the bassist; and eventually James, the band's little drummer boy.
I was last up, and only after reading every single line (including the fine print) at least twice, I dared to pick up my pen.
The lady we had come to know as Emily, quickly collected the contracts, glanced over them briefly, finished her drink; and walked out the door.
We sat there collectively, and after two hours, lots of sweat, and even some tears, our little band of Astoria, Oregon; Makeshift Innocence, left that stingy little bar with an official record deal.
© Copyright 2012 to Evanescence67
Part two coming soon...
Monday, May 9, 2011
Plane Crash Dreams PT. 4
My head was bleeding and all of a sudden I wasn't in the forest anymore. As I faded in and out of conscienceness, I could make out a room. The greenhouse? But the greenhouse was at home, we were still lost! Then I saw...Courtney?
"Courtney! Courtney!" I screamed, "Where am I? Where's Francis? You're dead!"
"No!", she was yelling, "No! What do you mean I'm dead? Kurt, I'm right here!"
"But the plane cra-"
Then all was silent.
I was in white space, no one around. All was dead and so was I. Francis and I were never in the jungle. There never was a plane. It was simply me, by myself, thinking my weird, twisted thoughts. I had wandered around this greenhouse all day, killing off everything and everyone. Everyone except Francis. I couldn't touch her...so I shot myself.
True love had escaped from the pit of my burning, nauseas stomach.
THE END.
Hope you enjoyed. I know it was kind of depressing but whatever. You'll live.
"Courtney! Courtney!" I screamed, "Where am I? Where's Francis? You're dead!"
"No!", she was yelling, "No! What do you mean I'm dead? Kurt, I'm right here!"
"But the plane cra-"
Then all was silent.
I was in white space, no one around. All was dead and so was I. Francis and I were never in the jungle. There never was a plane. It was simply me, by myself, thinking my weird, twisted thoughts. I had wandered around this greenhouse all day, killing off everything and everyone. Everyone except Francis. I couldn't touch her...so I shot myself.
True love had escaped from the pit of my burning, nauseas stomach.
THE END.
Hope you enjoyed. I know it was kind of depressing but whatever. You'll live.
Plane Crash Dreams PT. 3
Since it was morning, we started our typical routine. It was sunny; no rain. I led us down a semi-clear path and gathered some exotic berries. I didn't know what kind they were, but they had yet to kill me so I figured they were okay. I fed Francis the majority before starting our daily walk to anywhere and everywhere.
"One day", I said, "we'll be out of here. We'll wake up in our nice, warm beds and everything will okay". I was talking more to myself, but it seemed to comfort Francis as well. I kept going; "Everything is going to be fine. Someone will save us and we'll be on our way out of here, going home". I wanted more than anything to tell her that Mommy would be with us, that we would go home and she'd be waiting for us....I knew that was never going to happen.
We walked for what felt like a good five hours and I suddenly realized we were long overdue for a rest. I set Francis on the ground near a tree, and leaned my head against the bark. That's when I heard it. The voices came rushing back out of nowhere. All in a rush, Francis was gone and I was...shot?
"One day", I said, "we'll be out of here. We'll wake up in our nice, warm beds and everything will okay". I was talking more to myself, but it seemed to comfort Francis as well. I kept going; "Everything is going to be fine. Someone will save us and we'll be on our way out of here, going home". I wanted more than anything to tell her that Mommy would be with us, that we would go home and she'd be waiting for us....I knew that was never going to happen.
We walked for what felt like a good five hours and I suddenly realized we were long overdue for a rest. I set Francis on the ground near a tree, and leaned my head against the bark. That's when I heard it. The voices came rushing back out of nowhere. All in a rush, Francis was gone and I was...shot?
Plane Crash Dreams PT. 2
I awoke to the water falling on my head. Rain, of course Kurt, good going. I was angry at myself for not even giving second wind to any thought of precipitation. After all, look where we're at. No time to fret though, Francis was getting soaked. I grabbed her up in my arms and made a mad dash for shelter. But where is one to go in such a place? There was no shelter, there was no anything!
I turned my body to face a tree and maneuvered my torso over Francis to keep her dry. This was my fault. I'm the one who had to go out and play rockstar every night, and thanks to this life of mine, my own flesh and blood had to suffer. We were in the middle of God-knows-where, huddled against shrubbery to stay safe from the elements. It wasn't right, and it was all because of me.
My sanity lasted until around Tuesday. We had spent almost a week in this God-forsaken land, and I would have all but forgotten the date if I hadn't spent the better part of last night thinking about it. Francis had almost immediately fallen asleep like she usually did (after walking all day to any sign of life, it's typical of a small child to be exhausted), yet I had been wide awake all throughout the nights. I don't know why it took so long for me to realize what possible dangers we could be in, but around the second night, when the noises started, it hit me that it was imminent. The noises, like a hushed whisper, had escaped Francis; she didn't hear them...but they were there, weren't they?
I turned my body to face a tree and maneuvered my torso over Francis to keep her dry. This was my fault. I'm the one who had to go out and play rockstar every night, and thanks to this life of mine, my own flesh and blood had to suffer. We were in the middle of God-knows-where, huddled against shrubbery to stay safe from the elements. It wasn't right, and it was all because of me.
My sanity lasted until around Tuesday. We had spent almost a week in this God-forsaken land, and I would have all but forgotten the date if I hadn't spent the better part of last night thinking about it. Francis had almost immediately fallen asleep like she usually did (after walking all day to any sign of life, it's typical of a small child to be exhausted), yet I had been wide awake all throughout the nights. I don't know why it took so long for me to realize what possible dangers we could be in, but around the second night, when the noises started, it hit me that it was imminent. The noises, like a hushed whisper, had escaped Francis; she didn't hear them...but they were there, weren't they?
Plane Crash Dreams PT. 1
This is a story I wrote for my English class a long time ago. The story's title came from Josh Farro's song "Plane Crash Dreams". Enjoy~
It happened in a second. One moment we were in the sky on our way to Siesta Fest in Brazil; the next, and our plane was down in the Amazon and everyone was dead. The pilot, the crew, Dave, Krist...Courtney.
We were the only survivors, Francis and I. It was around 10AM and my mind wandered back to the airport. How could we be expecting to land in paradise just four short hours ago, and now all my friends were gone? All I had left was my daughter, and we were stranded in the middle of absolute nowhere.
As I climbed from the wreckage of the plane, carrying my nine-month-old, we could both feel the humidity pour down on us. I felt immediately uncomfortable and thought how extremely selfish I was knowing that my friends were in much worse condition. I tried not to think of them. Their bloody faces, missing limbs; it was all too much.
I walked for about an hour carrying Francis through the overgrown mass of treesand ferns. I knew it was silly to even be looking, but I still kept my eyes peeled for any sign of help. A hospital, a police station, anyone who could save my friends. They were dead; I never let that go of that thought, I simply pushed it to the back of my mind and proceeded to play the inch of hope that had escaped reality in a loop much like a melody.
We walked for several more hours until 2AM found us asleep under a large canopy of low-hanging branches. It wasn't that I was so tired; the thought of sleep didn't dare enter my mind. It was the look on the face of Francis that told me she knew. Under a year old and she still managed to piece together all that had happened. The plane exploded, it crashed into the jungle, and now Uncle Dave, Uncle Krist and Mommy were gone forever. "But why?", her eyes seemed to ask. It was at this moment I realized I too had been looming over our fate, and decided that a little rest of the mind couldn't hurt. So we walked for about another hour and eventually found a place to settle into the night. Was this life as we knew it? From living in California valleys and hills, flying first class, to sleeping on rocks in a rainforest, foriegn country and all? Is this what we had come to?
It happened in a second. One moment we were in the sky on our way to Siesta Fest in Brazil; the next, and our plane was down in the Amazon and everyone was dead. The pilot, the crew, Dave, Krist...Courtney.
We were the only survivors, Francis and I. It was around 10AM and my mind wandered back to the airport. How could we be expecting to land in paradise just four short hours ago, and now all my friends were gone? All I had left was my daughter, and we were stranded in the middle of absolute nowhere.
As I climbed from the wreckage of the plane, carrying my nine-month-old, we could both feel the humidity pour down on us. I felt immediately uncomfortable and thought how extremely selfish I was knowing that my friends were in much worse condition. I tried not to think of them. Their bloody faces, missing limbs; it was all too much.
I walked for about an hour carrying Francis through the overgrown mass of treesand ferns. I knew it was silly to even be looking, but I still kept my eyes peeled for any sign of help. A hospital, a police station, anyone who could save my friends. They were dead; I never let that go of that thought, I simply pushed it to the back of my mind and proceeded to play the inch of hope that had escaped reality in a loop much like a melody.
We walked for several more hours until 2AM found us asleep under a large canopy of low-hanging branches. It wasn't that I was so tired; the thought of sleep didn't dare enter my mind. It was the look on the face of Francis that told me she knew. Under a year old and she still managed to piece together all that had happened. The plane exploded, it crashed into the jungle, and now Uncle Dave, Uncle Krist and Mommy were gone forever. "But why?", her eyes seemed to ask. It was at this moment I realized I too had been looming over our fate, and decided that a little rest of the mind couldn't hurt. So we walked for about another hour and eventually found a place to settle into the night. Was this life as we knew it? From living in California valleys and hills, flying first class, to sleeping on rocks in a rainforest, foriegn country and all? Is this what we had come to?
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