Ferris Wheel

--> Author's Note: I wrote this piece one day when I was feeling down. It was a warm up writing piece that i worked off of to make better and sound better. I actually didn't intended to write a piece like this, but my mood changed the story into something sad and a little creepy to be honest.

I am on this ride, here at the fair. No purpose, but to just sit. Sit and take it all in. No one knows I'm here. I grew up here, and I was only 11 when I was kidnapped at this very place.  I was 18 when I passed. What exactly happened, well to tell it was simple. I got dumped off in the woods with the clown, and he took me as far back as they went, and took my life right there in my resting place now. Not the best place to be rested for an 18 year old girl. I am afraid no one can find my killer. That would be my worst nightmare will come true.

My family used to come here every weekend with me, but now from what I've seen from where I sit here in this fairs wheel seat, they don't come often at all. I was worried as I watched over them that they too would be hurt the way I was, and have no way out. My little sisters Caitlin and Bethany, and brother Nate, have a lot of fun at the fair, just like me until that clown took me away. He was just making me a balloon, or at least that's all I thought he would do. My mother turned around to only to find my brother at her side. He was asking to go on a ride, pulling her away towards trouble. As she turned so did the clown, but not alone. He took me with. My mother didn't see me leaving, but I saw her and had no chance of being saved. He told me to be silent or something bad would happen to me, so I did at told. I was quiet. He had something sharp on me. I could feel it poking through my shirt. I knew my next move was to where ever he was taking me. I thought that I had a strong will. Strong enough to get away from him, but that was in no way possible.

I watch out for my brother and sisters every chance I get, hoping that if a time comes that I can help them if needed. I may not be always able to, but that doesn't mean I won't try. My parents that day took my brother and sisters to the fair, then they go to church, and lastly they go the police. They wanted to see if I would come back that night. All of them hoped for my arrival that night but how much longer, and would I ever come back? No one would ever know what happened to me. They still see the police every day to see if they found anything on my case. It saddens them to hear that nothing has changed. Sometimes, but not often enough, they have more information.

Much time passes, and my parents start to see the police less and less. My brother and sisters grow up and get families of their own. I had hoped to have that also. I have a hard time being happy for them mostly because mine was ruined for me. After time that isn't a bother to me as much as it is a very nice site to see. Sometimes I look back and wish that that was me. I would have never gone there, to the fair that day if I could go back and change everything, but I had no control over what happened. One day my family will find the real killer, and find out the whole truth about my murder, but as of now they go on with life as is.

Time feels as if it is standing still as I sit here on this fairs wheel and watch over every one here. Observing people's life, and how it may have been to live a fulfilled life with more experiences and time for family. It is now my time to go on. No more sitting in this seat. No purpose to be near these strange people I don’t know and never will. Goodbye to sadness and goodbye to what could have been.

The Pond

Authors note: I wrote this for a warm up in the beginning of class. It based it off of a painting from Claude Monet called Le Pont Japoinais a Giverny shown below. When I saw the picture I went to a very calm place and just went from there to write about it. As I was writing I was thinking about what it would be like to be there in that setting, and about what it would feel like, sound like, and look like in real life.

I lie on my back looking up at the willow trees drooping my way. As the wind blows the branches sway back, and forth, back, and forth. The bird chirp a little chirp to each other from opposite sides of the pond. I can hear very faint splashes from the bright colored fish in the water. A large sound comes every now and then from the fogs who sit on the side, looking into the filthy water. There is a lot to look at here, and no matter how hard you try you could probably never leave. I know I wouldn't want to.  I could live here forever, and never get up! Sleep here, and wake up here every morning, and every evening I would watch the sun go down through the willow trees. It becomes easier, and easier to see why there are so many peaceful animals here, and I am here to be in their presence. To my left there is a large bridge that people walk over everyday, and yes I am one of those people too, who walk over it stop just to gaze at the beauty of natural artwork. If I were any good at art, I would paint this scenery everyday and I could never get sick of it. As I think of this it becomes apparent that there is a painting of this very place, so I bought it and thought to myself "At least I will be able to be home more now, and I can spend more time with my family. This doesn't mean I will not be there often because I will. When I look at that picture I will go back to the place I love so much, by the pond."