Nightmares

Over the road, I see one of my very close friends walking our way (Let's call her Alasyia).

Alasyia's jaw drops and relaxes into a yawn. Her eyes are eddging red around the corners, her lips appeared more yellow than her usual glossed pink.

"Hey Alasyia! What are you doing around here?"

She stops to give me a half-hearted smile, and bends down to pet Merlin on the top of the head.

"I was trying to find you. We need to talk."

We start farther down the street I was heading. Her normal stifled giggles, kindergarden jokes, and hair flips aren't there today.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

We don't walk anymore. Now, we are standing in the middle of the sidewalk. I ignore my dog who is barking at two unattended girls riding trikes with oversized helmets.

Instead, it remains silent between us as I stare deep into her eyes. A single tear drips from her right eye, and she starts to breathe heavily.

"Are you... crying? Oh my God, what happened to your hair?"

Alasyia has a bald spot on the side of her head. Earlier, I hadn't noticed the crusted blood matted to her scalp.

"You remember... w-when I went out with Tyrell?"

I nod.

"He. He. Won't. Stop. Hurting. Me."

I squeeze her lower back as hard as I can in a loving embrace.

"I won't let him touch you ever again, Alasyia." I spat.

She grabs my face and now, her eyes are overpowering mine. Alasyia's nails are digging into my cheeks.

"It's just too damn late, Sophia. Where have you been? My life has gone to waste, my friends haven't noticed."

"I-I-I..." I didn't have an excuse. The world began to spin and I was going to hurl.

Which I did.

Alasyia laughed menacingly. This couldn't be her.

"... Alasyia listen to me.."

"What did I tell you? It's too late to listen."

A man with spikey grey hairs starts in a jog once he sees us. He seems like he could help me...

She lays down in a green patch of grass and folds her hands over her heart. Purple blood streams from her fingertips, soaking her white cotton dress.

"It's too damn late, Sophia. It's too damn late, Sophia. It's too damn late, Sophia. It's too damn late, Sophia." She chants, Alasyia's eyes are rolled back.

I let out a terrorized scream. The man stops when he sees me.

"She is going to die," he says, "She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Yes. Yes she does."

I place my hand on her forehead and whisper,"Alasyia, don't leave me." It interrupts her pattern.

"I hope you rot in hell! I hope you rot in hell! I hope you rot in hell!" She is now repeating.

"I rightfully condemn you to the darkest, deepest hell there is, Sophia Manco. Every time he hit me, I thought of you. I had hope that you would save me."

"I'm sorry!" I screamed.

It was too late, though. She had stopped breathing.

I walked home. The man, a third-party, doesn't call the police like I thought he would. But neither do I.

Upstream by Melissa Lion

     Alaska.

     What do you think of when you read "Alaska"? I see polar bears, glaciers, eskimos huddling around a windling fire, igloos, and snow. Lots of snow.

     I didn't really know much about Alaska before I read Upstream. Let me tell you... Alaska isn't covered in snow ALL of the time. Most people who live there don't wear bearskin coats. There are salmon with emerald faces, fireweed, tall trees, and mountains(not completely covered in cold white mush).

     Melissa Lion also taught me about finding beauty in simple things. Her descriptions of everyday life are enough to look at your breakfast toast differently.

     She showed me true love. Friendship, sisterhood, motherhood. The story line is beautiful. There's no other way to describe it.

     Lion made me feel what Martha felt. I was hooked through it all. I cried myself to sleep like a dork after I read it.

     I wish all of you could read this book, because it is something VERY special worth sharing.

     I give it ten hearts out of ten.

 

Word of the Day- Pseudonym

sood-n-im

Pseydonym is a noun. A pseudonym basically means "anonymous". The author is intending that his/her "pseudonym" is to remain nameless, but is used in a favorful way. For instance- You see a small boy being picked on by a bigger boy. He grabs the victim by the collar and starts yelling in his face. They younger boy starts to cry. A girl who goes your school grabs the bully by the arm. She pulls him away from the boy and starts to confront him very forcefully. You go to comfort the little boy who was being picked on. The girl from your school is your "pseudonym". She helped you solve the problem. You know her name, but decide she might like it best if she remained anonymous.

The Idea Keeper (#1)

Coincidence is a clever little kick in the butt.

Word of the Day- Smarmy

Smarm-y (smahr-mee)
Smarmy is an adjective. When you are calling someone or something "smarmy", you are saying that they are excessively flattering or charming.
His welcome was overwhelmingly smarmy, his smile almost too friendly.

Vamped by Lucienne Diver

A psyco-psycic, a dungeon full of immortal teenagers, spiked punch at Marcy's party, Chickzilla, and an eternally damned fashionista.

Vamped was an action/comedy/romance novel. If you're looking for a vampire book that is NOT cliche... you'll never find one! You might like this book if you enjoyed The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner.

Gina's glossy lips have gotten her into a sticky situation. She's getting attacked by mind controllers, feeling strangly attached to her fellow "dormies", missing her new, once-nerd bf who was just handed over as a prophecy to the council, and this new all-blood diet and no moisturizer fad must come to an end. Can she help the evil to benefit innocent while being a secret spy for her side?

I'm giving it 3/5 bites.

 

Christina Perri- Penguin (What can you do?)

You answer your phone to panicked breathing. The sound of your best friend's sorrow stabs you like a regretful shard of glass. Regretting you hadn't been there, regretting you couldn't reach out to stroke her thick, black hair, regretting you can't strike at (Let's call her Jamie) like a crazed cobra. Vibes of jealousy, sadness, and desperation shudder throughout your frame. They seem to come from the speaker... Or maybe through your "psycic connections" she teasingly claims to feel.

"I know, I know. It's the jeans that don't fit you. Not the other way around." Alexis whispers.

YAY!

Well, since this IS my first post, I would like to say...
WELCOME to the new, the improved, the absolute best Strung Hearts to the Young. My name is Sophia, and I love to read & write! My goal for this blog is to share with you the love, there's plenty to go around. I read almost anything from romance to science fiction. I also take a spin at creative writing every once in a while. You will be able to take a sneek peek into my Pocket Journal, a.k.a. The Idea Keeper. I carry it EVERYWHERE I go and write down some random ideas inspired by my surroundings. I put these ideas into my writing. Clever, eh?
Kick back your feet, and get ready to be rocked out of your world with Strung Hearts to the Young. (;