Category Archives: Short Stories

I’ve always have ideas for short stories, even though mine are sometimes pretty long. Well anyway, my rough draft of short stories will go here.

A Poem Just For Me

I don’t know who made this poem; Adam didn’t give me all the details but he dedicated this poem to me. Oh, who is Adam? He’s my boyfriend.

I had closed the door upon my heart
And wouldn’t let anyone in,
I had trusted and loved only to be hurt
But, that would never happen again.

I had locked the door and tossed the key
As hard, and as far as I could,
Love would never enter there again,
My heart was closed for good.

Then you came into my life
And made me change my m…ind,
Just when I thought that tiny key
was impossible to find.

That’s when you held out your hand
And proved to me I was wrong,
Inside your palm was the key to my heart…
You had it all along.

Its a little cheesy, but I like it. In his words, describes us in a nut shell.

If He [A Poem]

The Author to this poem is unknown. If anyone know who wrote this, feel free to tell me.

If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away.
If he doesn’t want you, nothing can make him stay.
Stop making excuses for a man and his behavior.
Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.
Stop trying to change yourselves for a relationship that’s not meant to be.
Slower is better. Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy.
If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you, as you deserve then heck no, you CAN’T “be friends.”
A friend wouldn’t mistreat a friend. Don’t settle. If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.
Don’t stay because you think, “it will get better.” You’ll be mad at
yourself a year later for staying when things are not better.
The only person you can control in a relationship is you.
Always have your own set of friends separate from his.
Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. If something bothers you, speak up.
Never let a man know everything. He will use it against you later.
You cannot change a man’s behavior
Change comes from within.
Don’t EVER make him feel he is more important than you are… even if he has more education or in a better job.
Do not make him into a quasi-god.
He is a man, nothing more nothing less.
Never let a man define who you are.
NEVER BORROW SOMEONE ELSES MAN! If he cheated WITH you, he’ll cheat on you.
A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you.
All men are NOT dogs.
You should not be the one doing all the bending…
compromise is a two way street.
You need time to heal between relationships .. there is nothing cute about baggage….. deal with your issues BEFORE pursuing a new relationship.
You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you…a relationship
consists of two WHOLE individuals…look for someone
complimentary…not supplementary.
Dating is fun…even if he doesn’t turn out to be Mr. Right.
Make him miss you SOMETIMES…when a man always knows where you are,
and youre always readily available to him- he takes it for GRANTED
Don’t fully commit to a man who doesn’t give you everything that you need. (Bullshit…)
Keep him in your radar but get to know others.
Share this with other ladies…..

You’ll make someone SMILE, another RETHINKS his/her choices, and
another man/woman PREPARE.

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The Angel in the Elevator

A women was getting ready for bed and she saw a white light outside her bedroom. When she looked outside she saw a man dressed in pure white. The glow was coming from him. He stared at her as she stared back. She got into bed and the glow slowing faded away as if the man was walking away.

The next morning the women went to work. She and a few other people waited for the lift to the next floor. The door to the lift opened and there in front of her stood the man dressed in white. The women couldn’t move from her spot as fear had taken over her. Her eyes stayed glued to the man.

She didn’t realize all the people going passed her into the lift. Before she knew it the door closed, and the lift fell seven floors killing everyone instantly.

Only one body wasn’t accounted for…the man dressed in white….

Update April 15, 2009 7:58 P.M.: I did not make this up, this was sent to me in an e-mail. It is said that this is an urban legend. All I did was copied and pasted from my e-mail, I just found it to be a nice short story. I’m an Atheist, I wouldn’t dare try and make up a story about some Angel. Please spare me the questions.

The Broiled Diver

Fire Authorities in California found a corpse in a burnt out section of forest whilst assessing the damage done by a forest fire. The body was dressed in a full wetsuit, complete with a dive tank, flippers and face mask.

A postmortem examination revealed that the diver did not die from burns, but from massive internal injuries. Investigators then set about determining how a fully clad diver ended up in the middle of a forest fire. They found that, on the day of the fire, the person went for a diving trip off the coast – some 20 MILES away from the forest.

The firefighters, seeking to control the fire as quickly as possible, called in a fleet of helicopters with very large buckets. The buckets were dropped into the ocean for rapid filling, then flown to the forest fire and emptied. The diver was scooped out of the ocean, into the bucket and dropped over the fire.

Malin Kundang [The Indonesian Myth]

A long time ago, in a small village near the beach in West Sumatera, lived a woman and her son, Malin Kundang. Malin Kundang’s father had passed away when he was a baby, and he had to live hard with his mother.

Malin Kundang was a healthy, diligent, and strong child. He usually went to the sea to catch fish, and brought it to his mother, or sold it in the town.

One day, when Malin Kundang was sailing as usual, he saw a merchant’s ship which was being raided by a small band of pirates. With his bravery and power, Malin Kundang defeated the pirates. The merchant was so happy and asked Malin Kundang to sail with him. Malin Kundang agreed.

Many years later, Malin Kundang became a wealthy merchant, with a huge ship, loads of trading goods, many ship crews, and a beautiful wife. In his journey, his ship landed on a beach. The villagers recognized him, and the news ran fast in the town: Malin Kundang became a rich man and now he is here. His mother, in deep sadness after years of loneliness, ran to the beach to meet her beloved son again.

When the mother came, Malin Kundang, in front of his well dressed wife, his crews and his own glory, denied to meet that old, poor and dirty woman. For three times she begged Malin Kundang and for three times yelled at her. At last Malin Kundang said to her “Enough, old woman! I have never had a mother like you, a dirty and ugly peasant!” Then he ordered his crews to set sail.

Enraged, she cursed Malin Kundang that he would turn into a stone if he didn’t apologize. Malin Kundang just laughed and set sail. In the quiet sea, suddenly a thunderstorm came. His huge ship was wrecked and it was too late for Malin Kundang to apologize. He was thrown by the wave out of his ship, fell on a small island, and suddenly turned into stone.

AIDS Mary

A group of young college women went to Florida for spring break. While there, one of them met the perfect man and fell madly in love. By the end of the week they were engaged but when spring break ended the girl had to fly home.

When they were saying goodbye at the airport, the man gave her a ring box in which she assumed was an engagement ring. When she got home, she excitedly told her family and friends all about “Mr. wonderful”, and with them gathered around her she opened the ring box, which contained a toy skeleton and a piece of paper which said “Welcome to the world of AIDS.

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“To My Haters” Poem

Due to the large amount of idiots who felt that it was okay to advertise this specific blog to defend their coonery. I took the stupid ass poem down. Also because its obvious people didn’t read what I said about this poem. The message wasn’t getting through. So thanks “biancabee” and your other dumb ass friends. You’ll have to find another blog or site to display your coonery.

Also, you should read this poem…just click here.

Update 7-20-2010: 5 Months later, you’re just now seeing this ‘biancabee‘? & You have the nerve to get mad and try to call me out  when you lack maturity? I did the right thing by taking it down; I can’t allow people to glorify such idiocy through my blog. Especially since I don’t find people who have all these ‘haters’ to be of sound mind.

Oh but look guys, look what she sent me in an E-mail!

Bytch ur fuckin 19 years old got a baby claime u dont want drama or anything and that ur SOOO muchure but u have the tym to make a website about me ahahah bytch grown the fuck up and fuckin act ur age and not ur shoe size ! honey aint nobody jelouse of u y would i b jelouse of u ahahaah get a fuckin life and grown up

This is all I have to say…

LMAO! 19? I’m 22 and I’m kid-less. Who life did you get me mixed up with, yours? You’re so pathetic, its insulting to even entertain sending this message, let alone replying to it. You got so mad you had to send me a e-mail AFTER leaving that idiotic comment [that got edited and laughed at by me and my admins]? Are you off your rocker? If you’re going to get mad and be jealous of me [which no one said you were] you could of at least typed like you have an IQ. But you don’t and you’re a child and I shouldn’t even be stooping down to a hood-rats level but I don’t have shit to do at the moment.

Thanks for the attention and the entertainment. I got you mad and that’s all that matters at the moment, until I get bored with that. While you’re picking up your keys from your keyboard off the floor, I’m laughing and blocking your e-mail address so you won’t disrespect my e-mail ever again. I know my English isn’t all that great but I’m sure my IQ dropped trying to translate your sad excuse for English or slang as most of you hood-rats put it. Hows that for maturity? & Look, I didn’t even call you out your name. I wonder can you even do that without crashing and burning. No one will ever know. Again, thanks. You’ve been the highlight of the day for at least 2 minutes. You should be flattered.

& For the record, this is one blog, with your ‘name’ in it. I did not make a site surrounding you. What are you, 12? You must can’t grasp the concept of a ‘post’. I can’t believe your brain-dead ass thought I would make a whole site about you. You aren’t even worth the keystrokes I’m wasting now on you.

I still would like to know people…where in the hell did she get this imaginary life about me? When the hell did I confess to the world that I wish I was ‘drama-free’? When the hell did I get a kid?

I haven’t been 19 for 4 years…

Also can someone tell this stupid bitch my name IS NOT Ashely Cook or Ashley Hayez?!?! I can’t seem to get through to the sorry S.O.B.

Roommates

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band – he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”

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In A Father’s Eyes

This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very special relationship. Even though the son was always on the bench, his father was always in the stands cheering. He never missed a game. This young man was still the smallest of the class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn’t want to. But the young man loved football and decided to hang in there. He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he’d get to play when he became a senior. All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game, but remained a bench warmer all four years.

His faithful father was always in the stands, always with words of encouragement for him. When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a “walk-on.” Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did. The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always puts his heart and soul to every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed. The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in the game. It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big play off game, the coach met him with a telegram. The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, “My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?” The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, “Take the rest of the week off, son. And don’t even plan to come back to the game on Saturday.

Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room and put on his football gear. As he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon.

“Coach, please let me play. I’ve just got to play today,” said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game. But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in. “All right,” he said. “You can go in.”

Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him.

He ran, he passed, blocked and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph.

The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown.

The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you’ve never heard! Finally, after the stands had emptied and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that the young man was sitting quietly in the corner all alone. The coach came to him and said, “Kid, I can’t believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?”

He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?” The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, “Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!”

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Teddy Stoddard

Jean Thompson stood in front of her fifth-grade class on the very first day of school in the fall and told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her pupils and said that she loved them all the same, that she would treat them all alike. And that was impossible because there in front of her, slumped in his seat on the third row, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed he didn’t play well with the other children, that his clothes were unkempt and that he constantly needed a bath. And Teddy was unpleasant. It got to the point during the first few months that she would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X’s and then marking the Fat F on the top of the paper biggest of all. Because Teddy was a sullen little boy, no one else seemed to enjoy him, either.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child’s records and put Teddy’s off until last. When she opened his file, she was in for a surprise.

His first-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is a bright, inquisitive child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners…he is a joy to be around.”

His second-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is an excellent student well-liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle.”

His third-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy continues to work hard but his mother’s death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn’t show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren’t taken.”

Teddy’s fourth-grade teacher wrote, “Teddy is withdrawn and doesn’t show much interest in school. He doesn’t have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class. He is tardy and could become a problem.”

By now Mrs. Thompson realized the problem but Christmas was coming fast. It was all she could do, with the school play and all, until the day before the holidays began and she was suddenly forced to focus on Teddy Stoddard.

Her children brought her presents, all in beautiful ribbon and bright paper, except for Teddy’s, which was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper of a scissored grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of cologne. She stifled the children’s laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume behind the other wrist.

Teddy Stoddard stayed behind just long enough to say, “Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to.” After the children left she cried for at least an hour.

On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and speaking. Instead, she began to teach children. Jean Thompson paid particular attention to one they all called “Teddy.” As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. On days there would be an important test, Mrs. Thompson would remember that cologne. By the end of the year he had become one of the smartest children in the class and…well, he had also become the “pet” of the teacher who had once vowed to love all of her children exactly the same.

A year later she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that of all the teachers he’d had in elementary school, she was his favorite. Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still his favorite teacher of all time. Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he’d stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson she was still his favorite teacher.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor’s degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still his favorite teacher but that now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.

The story doesn’t end there. You see, there was yet another letter that Spring. Teddy said he’d met this girl and was to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering…well, if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the pew usually reserved for the mother of the groom. And guess what, she wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And I bet on that special day, Jean Thompson smelled just like…well, just like the way Teddy remembered his mother smelling on their last Christmas together.

THE MORAL: You never can tell what type of impact you may make on anothers life by your actions or lack of action. Consider this fact.

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