Sonnet- Underwater

The surface above me

It shines like a mirror

I look up to see

And it all becomes clearer

The currents silently sway

I'm trapped in a cell
I try to get away but
I'm stuck at the bottom of a wishing well

As of this point

I've run out of air
And all of my joints
Ache everywhere
I rush to the surface only to realize,
It was all in my head, my thoughts demonized

"My First Cheeseburger"

You were sitting there, in front of me
Perfectly still and silent
A feeling of confidence could be felt that was so strong
I couldn't help but look away.

I must confess;
When I first laid eyes on you,
I was anything but impressed
You were sloppy, seemed to be simply thrown together
Without a care
Yet you were so confident
And to this day I am still in awe how much your confidence drew me to you

Hesitantly, I leaned forward
Oh, we were so close
I studied your frills-
So beautiful, so perfectly arranged
You were practically glowing
Thick and soft
I couldn't help but go for you

You were delicious
I can still taste you
Though many days have passed
You gave me hope
Hope that there are still good cheeseburgers in this world
And I thank you for that.

Dear McDonalds of Norton-

Though I will not reveal my name to you, I would like to make it aware that I am a Norton resident and student athlete who is very involved in my training and education. I train daily, and usually head home around seven thirty. The only thing that gets me through the three and a half hours of exercise is the thought of a beautiful M&M McFlurry. After a long, excruciating practice, the last thing I want to here when I pull up to the drive-thru is that your god damn ice cream machine is temporarily not working, and all this crap about how sorry you are for the inconvenience. This has happened eight out of the ten last times I went to get an ice cream, I would like to point out that these trips were completely on random occasions. I understand that your restaurant is a popular stop for many people, but if you would like to keep me as being your customer, I suggest you either get a new machine or stop having the idiots of your business keep breaking the stupid machine.
Sincerely,
Get your freaking machine fixed

The water supports me. I float along the surface day after day after day. I am made to serve a single purpose, to separate the water into equal lanes. The number doesn’t matter- I’ve done six, eight, ten, no difference. Those people, they pull on me, break me. They use me to cheat. They use me to their benefit. I cannot do anything about it other than sit there and float like the helpless chain of plastic I am. I become lose over time between the currents and the people. If only the role I am made to play wasn't so rough.

Dual Narration

I was brutal. I am powerful. I was vicious. I am strong. I was evil. I am victorious.

I am writing to you to finally vent my sorrow and guilt. Just thinking about my past and all of the horrible things I did. I was malicious. I was satanic-minded. I don’t know what I was thinking. I must have found it fun to kill off those innocent people. I will forever feel the pain I put them through. I am amazed I was able to live all these years without ending my own life.

I love my job. Simple as that. I feel comfortable knowing that those horrid, disgusting excuses of the human race are dying. I am making the world a better place. I hate everyone that isn’t one of us. They don’t deserve to live, those filthy pigs are a waste of life and need to be exterminated immediately.

I wish I could change my past. I wish this would last forever. I relive every memory every single day. These are the days I will smile back at when I am old. I will never forget what I did. I will never forget what I did.

It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh Field. A young girl, no older than six or seven, stood waiting anxiously next to the bridge opening. Her face and hands were pressed against the large window that overlooked the runway. A tattered stuffed bear lay on the carpet next to her, looking out into the gloominess as well. She and her father had been waiting for nearly two hours hoping the plane carrying her mother would return by midnight. Her father sat in one of the many black chairs being occupied by other relatives to the people on the flight as well. His head hung low between his hands. He was tired; they all were. He checked his watch then looked over to his daughter. She was desperately trying to keep her eyes even the slightest bit open. Eventually she sat down, curling up into a little heap on the terminal floor. Her father rose and walked over, picking her up carefully as not to wake her. He brought her over to the seat he had been in a few moments before and gently lowered her down. The time was 11:42 pm. He was worried. He didn't know where the plane was. He checked his watch again. The time was 11:43.  Rubbing his forehead he paced back and forth within the little rows. Nobody bothered to look up. An announcement suddenly came onto the speakers. It said the radio signals were not picking up. The plane had most likely crashed. The teddy bear fell to the ground. Their mother wouldn't be home for Christmas.

Madeline: Single. Lonely. Desperate to the point where she will do anything for a boyfriend.  She has countless failed relationships from the past (all of them abusive and unhealthy), and is hoping her regular attendance at the speed dating service every Wednesday night will eventually land her a date. She has just enough hope left to not end her life.

Andrew: Single. One of Madeline’s ex-boyfriends. Abusive. Alcoholic. Temperamental.

(Lights go up on Madeline sitting at a table by herself. She has a slight frown on her face. She checks her watch and looks off into the distance for a few seconds, then goes back to staring at the tablecloth.)

Manager: Time to switch it up, people!

(Andrew, hood up and head down, stomps over to the table and violently pulls out the chair. He collapses into it, throws off his hood, and throws his arms in front of him, pulling at the tablecloth with his elbows.)

Andrew: Oh, sh*t! Maddie! (Leans back in chair, rubs eyes, leans back forward) What the hell are you doing here?

Maddie: What– what the– uhh–

Andrew: Jesus! Still can’t talk to me, huh? What the hell, it’s been almost eight months!

Maddie: I know, Andrew. I just– (whispering) what are you doing here?

Andrew: I figured I’d give it a try, seeing how everything else hasn’t really worked out for me.

Maddie: What are you talking about?

Andrew: You know. Ever since you and I… it’s been awful, Maddie. I miss you. And I’m not making stuff up this time, I swear. I–

Maddie: Stop.

Andrew: No, Maddie, listen to me–

Maddie: Stop it, Andrew–

Andrew: (Leans forward and grabs Maddie’s wrist forcefully. His tone changes to a harsh whisper) I’m warning you. Maddie. Interrupt me one more time and I swear to God that I will–

Maddie: (Tries to stand up but is yanked back down by Andrew) Help!

Andrew: God, would’ve thought you’d’ve learned after all those other times. Don’t think we’re over, Maddie. Don’t be stupid.

Manager: Alright everybody! Switch it up!