A Look Back…

Blog, book, character, excerpt, life, love, memories, rewind, Short story, Uncategorized, writing

I was going through the files on my computer today and I came across my school work from 2011. This one assignment caught my eye. It was from English class and we were studying A Streetcar Named Desire. We were asked to create a monologue for a character and fit it into the story. This was mine. I couldn’t help but laugh. The writing wasn’t the greatest but I liked the direction I painted the monologue. It’s always fun to look back and see how far we’ve come in our craft. Enjoy!

Dramatic Monologue

Blanche: [Swings open the bathroom door in a hurry, hair wet and donning a red silk robe.]

My I love bathes, I know I take many. I’m sorry for the up in your water bill but you don’t need to yell at me like that! I’ve done things I’m not proud of yes, that’s why I take so many. It’s my own demented way of coping. I wash my hair and I wash my body and I always feel brand new after, even if for only a little while. I wish I could stay that way . . . but I can’t escape my past. [Puts a hand to her brow.] That boy, that dear seventeen year old boy, he was a mistake . . . I thought I loved him. He bought me flowers and winked at me in class, he had me giggling like a little school girl. But I was a fool to lead him on, which is what I thought I was doing . . . but I not only lead him on, I returned his affection. What was I thinking? I suppose I thought he could be my handsome love, to replace my dead one. He wrote me letters, love letters as a matter of fact. Ones so steamy they could melt the ice cubes in your lemonade. [Sighs.]  I needed someone to treasure me, I always need to be treasured; I can’t stand on my own. The presence of a man keeps me at ease. And I suppose that’s why I go after Mitch. He’s stable and reliable. Perhaps one day we’ll have a quaint little weddin’ ceremony. I’ll have a lily in my hair and he’ll look dapper as can be. And we’ll say our vows and kiss and settle down in a little summer house and have cute little babies . . . but that’s just a dream of mine. A silly little dream. Are you happy? Is this what you wanted to get from me? To spill all my locked up secrets? [Sarcastic.] Well aren’t you a big man Stanley! Don’t tell me your hands are spiffy clean! You walk around like you’re the king of everything, having my poor little sister scrub and cook and – and . . . please you! [Points a shaky finger at Stanley and shouts.] You are despicable! [Takes a few breathes and looks from Stella to Stanley and back, with her hand clutched to her chest, her fighting spirit is deflated.] Perhaps one day I’ll soak long enough my sins and downfalls flow through my pores and out into my jasmine bath water . . .

Where should this go in the play that would be the most effective?

            I feel this would be most effective in the scene where Blanche was bathing and while she’s occupied Stanley takes the opportunity to fill Stella in on her sister’s past. Blanche could over hear the conversation and go out to defend herself. This would confirm the rumours Stanley was retelling and could deepen Blanche’s character. Revealing things about herself instead of lying would be interesting.

 

Peace & Love,

-Christina

Step out of the box.

Short story, Uncategorized, writing

So, I will be completely honest with you guys out there, I have horrible stage fright when it comes to showing my work to other people. Starting this blog with Collins was a huge step for us as writers and for me personally. I’ve always been a writer. Since I could hold a pen, I’ve been creating. In my life I’ve finished quite a few works that have never seen the light of day and probably never will. But, I’ve been playing with this idea separate from my work with Collins that has been itching to get out. It’s influenced by something that was pretty prevalent in my life for a long time, musicians. My father is a musician, performing in a band most of my life. My uncle is a song writer, etc. Now, I am a closet romance fan. Not the harlequin romance that your grandma read, no, I love true to life love stories. Stories that over come odds and allow people to feel. That’s what interests me. So…I wrote one. Well, a piece of one. I’m here to show it to you guys so you can see where I am coming from, what I love. Enjoy.

-Turner

“We can’t do this.”
“I know…I know but I want to. I need to.”
I shake my head. The beauty of the location were at, paling in comparsion to the beauty I see in him. “You know it isn’t possible, B.” It pains me to say, but I won’t be that girl. I won’t be the one to step into a relationship and shatter it, despite my personal feelings. Do I care about him? Yes. Do I want him? Yes. But not this way, never this way.
He sighs, running his hands through his hair, leaving it in a disarray. “The fact that my life has even come to this, fucking kills me.”
I smile sadly, turning away from him to stare out at the ocean view, surrounded by dark ever green trees. The party is still in full swing behind us. His family, friends, his wife all conversing and laughing. And he is here with me, his assistant. Pledging things and wanting things that aren’t available to us. That are forbidden.
I can see a man, kayaking in the distance. Part of me wants to up and leave, go join him. To be surrounded by the endless beauty this island provides. To forget about the fact that I am in love with my boss, with one of the biggest music sensations of our generation. That I am in love with a very married man.
This had been coming for a long time. I had been working for him for six months, and those six months were basically foreplay. We were the greatest of friends, we had everything in common, our hearts were involved. But his wasn’t for the taking, it had already been claimed. By the beautiful brunette bombshell currently patting his mother on the shoulder and laughing at their jokes. I know I would never be what his parents wanted. I wasn’t religious, I wasn’t rich, my family upbringing left a lot to be desired. I was an assistant with purple hair and a lip piercing.
Blaine places his hands gently on my shoulders. I shiver at the contact. This isn’t like the normal friendly touches we share, there is a promise for more and it flows through both of us. “I’m so in love with you, Estelle. You have no idea how much my heart is breaking right now. We can figure something out. I can leave Savannah. We can be together, we’re supposed to be together.” The end of his sentence is punctuated with a kiss on the side of my neck. Goose bumps break out over my skin.
I want so badly to turn around and fall into his embrace. These are the words my heart has been aching for for months. But I know, logically I know, that this isn’t okay. None of this is right. He can’t be saying these things, acting this way. He can’t be touching me like this. So I move away, I can feel the tension rising between us. I still haven’t responded and I know he’s waiting. His generally humourous personality laying dormant as he pours his heart out to me. He’s a musician, a song writer, so he is naturally poetic. But, I can’t fall for it. And I can’t be his assistant anymore. I need to end this, now, before it gets worse. Before I do something stupid and the press finds out and destroys him. Or worse, his wife finds out. She may not be a great human being, but she is a person and she has feelings and I won’t be the one to shred them.
“No, Blaine.” I say simply, finally turning around to face him. His dark brown eyes are glistening and I know my words are going to hurt him, but I can’t back down. I have to do the right thing. His lips are pinched, cheeks becoming flushed. I feel so bad to be the source of his pain. “I quit.”
“What? No. You can’t quit, Estelle. I need you. Just, forget I said anything okay? We can go back to being friends, we’ll pretend this never happened. I can’t lose you as…as this, and my assistant as well.” He rambles, reaching out to me. I step back.
I shake my head, my own eyes beginning to sting with tears. “It’s over, B. We can’t go back to the way things were. It isn’t fair to a whole lot of people. Your wife…” I stumble over my words, a sob working it’s way up my throat. I swallow it down so I can get the rest of this out. “Your wife deserves better. You aren’t this person, you don’t cheat. You have gotten so far in your career, in your life…I won’t be the reason it all crashes down.” I desperately want to tell him I love him too, to take back my words and find a way to make this plausible. But I don’t, I can’t add that hurt onto him as well.
A tear trickles down his cheek and I want to wipe it away. But I just smile, a cracked, broken smile, but a smile none the less. “You will always be my best friend, I wish you the best in life. I’ll be listening to every album, you can bet on that.”
I start to walk away, heading towards my car. My purse and jacket already stowed away there.
“Es! Please, just wait!” I hear him call out to me, causing heads to turn my way. I want to stop, I do. But I don’t. I keep walking, I walk on autopilot until I’m in my car, heading towards home. It isn’t until I’m inside my dank apartment that I finally let it all go. I collapse on my bed, letting the tears soak my pillow. Letting the sobs reverberate off the walls. I cry for myself, I cry for the situation Blaine can’t get out of, I cry because I will never love anyone the way I love him.

Jacob’s got his Angel.

Short story, Uncategorized, writing

Newest piece in the Jacob series. Feels good to be back in his head! Enjoy.

-Turner

“You shouldn’t be here. I told you to leave and not come back.” She whispers, her body rigid. These may be the words she is using, but I can see the truth in her eyes. They’ve never lied to me before.
“I know.” Is all I say as I work my way past her into her home. I take in the surroundings, it’s a small place. Just one level with one bedroom and one bathroom. But she’s made it hers. Although I already knew this, seeing as I’ve been watching her in here for weeks, months.
“Jacob…I’m serious.” She says, opening the door wider and motioning for me to exit. I want to laugh at that. Like I’d leave before I’m ready. I’ve given her months. I can’t go any longer without at least a taste of our once friendship.
“I’ve missed you, Angel.” I say, running my finger down her arm. Loving the goosebumps that overtake her smooth, flawless skin.
Her face turns a bright shade of red with her anger. She turns around, slamming the door closed before brushing past me and into the kitchen where she reaches to the top of the fridge, grabbing a large bottle of vodka. Pulling the lid off and foregoing a glass she chugs back a fair portion. Hm. That’s new, Angel never was much of a drinker. We’re going to have to work on that. Must be the influence of those new friends of hers.
“No. I didn’t want one, thanks for asking though.” I tease her. She doesn’t take this too well, her eyes are now shooting fire at me. I’d take the burn from her any day. Any time.
“What the hell do you want from me?” She spits, slamming the bottle onto the counter in front of her, the clear liquid sloshing onto the clean surface.
Now this is an easy one. “You.” I say, taking measured steps towards her. She stands her ground, not backing down until I’m right in front of her, breathing in her floral scent.
Her eyes glimmer at the same time her fists clench. She’s at war with herself, not that I blame her. I haven’t sent out the best signals lately.
“I gave you a chance to have me.” She whispers, her gaze thrown to the other side of the room, avoiding my own.
“I know.” Because I do, but the monsters inside, the darkness, was too much then. I was worried it would consume her. That I would consume her. But I know better now, I know I can’t live without her light. It’s the only thing that’s kept me who I am, kept me human.
She scoffs. “Then why are you here, you threw it away, Jakey.” She uses my old nickname. It makes my heart beat faster, something that almost never happens to me.
I cup her cheek in my hand, running my thumb along the slight freckles there. Feeling her essences seeking me out. I pull her gaze back to me, she has to crane her head up to look at me. “I would never throw you away, Reina.”
Her body sags, falling into mine. Her forehead resting against the beat of my heart and her hands fisting the sides of my jacket. If it’s in defeat or exhaustion, I don’t know.But I don’t care. Because now that I’ve got her in my arms, I’m never letting go again.
I will kill anyone who tries.
My blades sing to me, speaking their promise.