I was sitting in my hotel room minding my own business reading a book when all of a sudden the glass window doors flew open. The بستر room was dimly lit and the sun had completely gone down leaving no sunlight to light the room.
I fell off my بستر leaving my بستر in between me and the window. I would have gotten up to shut the window doors but that was before a figure entered the opening.
There was enough of a shadow cast over the body that آپ couldn't make out any features. But I could tell that it was a man. He stood with a sturdy pose his legs locked in place, his arms on his hips, his head held high with no fear.
He hopped down off the نشست that was placed in front of the window and onto the old carpeted floor. His pose loosened as his feet hit the ground, quite silently considering how old the house was.
He slowly walked around the room. I stayed kneeled at the side of the bed, my eyes peering over the unmade sheets. I watched him pick things up and study them then just drop them back into place.
"And what daughter are you?" He asked. My eyes widened, he knew I was there the entire time. But I made no noise I didn't make one اقدام and yet he was talking to me as if we had been in a conversation since he burst threw my hotel windows.
"I'm sorry, daughter of who?" He spun on his heels, his برداشت, ریچھ feeted heels, facing right at me. I stood straight up as straight as I could. He took a few steps towards me.
"What generation of her granddaughters are you?" He asked again, slowly as if I was a complete idiot missing the conversation.
I had a total stranger burst into my hotel room, not سے طرف کی the door but سے طرف کی the سیکنڈ story window. Not only that he was completely mad. I decide the only way I was going to make it out alive with out him killing me in some psychopathic maniac way was to try to play along.
"What would my grandmother," I shook my head and changed the word. "great-grandmothers name be." He looked at me a bit confused as he placed his hands on his hips again just like when he had barged in. "Wendy"
"Okay and what is your name?" His hands that laid on his hips slid off to his sides. "Your grandmother hasn't told آپ about me? My name's Peter Pan."
I shook my head, as a child Peter Pan was my پسندیدہ story. My mother read a couple chapters a night and when she finished the book she would read it over again. In fact the reason I chose this small not so 21st century comfort hotel was because this was the house that J.M. Berrie based Wendy and her two brothers house on.
So this kid well not so much a kid as maybe a eighteen یا nineteen سال old things that he's Peter Pan a childhood fairy tale character.
"So now that I have explained myself to you, what granddaughter are آپ of Wendy's?" I shook my head. "I'm not related to Wendy." He looked as if he didn't believe me. "Then what are آپ doing in her house." His voice was getting angry and I was becoming a bit scared.
"Peter, this house is no longer owned سے طرف کی Wendys family, it hasn't been for years. It's ow a hotel." He looked at me odd. "How many years?" "Its been a few decades."
His strong featured face turned turned softly into a heartbroken disappointment. He slowly sank to the floor. His eyebrows pushed together. My body loosened up and moved very slowly to his sunken body. I sat down on my legs in front of him.
Softly I asked, "If your Peter Pan, why aren't آپ a boy? آپ don't look quite like a man but آپ certainly don't look like a boy." His teary eyed face looked up at me. "You've heard my story?" I raised my eyebrow quickly then let it drop. "Your story is quite famous." He smiled to himself. "Wendy was truly an amazing story teller." I shook my head and agreed.
He took a deep breath composed him self and sat up straight. "I am not a boy because of Wendy. If آپ know my story then آپ know that I did not come and stay with Wendy and the lost boys but went back to Neverland." he paused and waited for my response in which I smiled and nodded.
"I'm not quite sure how long it had been since I left Wendy and the lost boys but Wendy was not a child when I came back to hear مزید of her stories. I'm not quite sure why I chose to stay but I did and she took care of me. Years went سے طرف کی and I started to grow up; one evening I was looking out that window." He pointed to the still open windows. "and I saw the star, big and bright and Neverland came flooding back into my mind." he pause and waited a bit to continue.
"So that night I went threw my little chest I had under my بستر and I found pixie dust. It was quite easy to remember how to fly." I smiled. "A little faith and pixie dust." I کہا with a little smile remembering my mother saying it to me. "I got up in the air and just went straight آگے out the window and towards the star." He looked away from me and at the ground."I guess it's been quite a lot of years since I came back the last time I came it was Wendy's granddaughter who stayed in this room."
I was pulled into his story so much that if felt 100% true, I didn't know what to say what to respond that story.
"That part of آپ story has never been told." He stood up fast and into his pose. "Do آپ tell stories at all." I stood up confident and smiling. "I do, just I put them on many layers of paper." He gave me an are-you-serious look. "Like a book?" my lips pressed together as I nodded.
"I write teenage novels and children's کتابیں and don't give me that look, have آپ ever read a book یا even picked one up?" He shook his head a little embarrassed. "Wendy always read them to me, but yes I would pick کتابیں up all the time, who do آپ think got the book off the bookshelf?"
I giggled s bit at his comment. I looked up at him and his face in a matter of سیکنڈ went from serious to creeply excited. "Come to Neverland with me." My smile faded and I grew terrified he was loosing his mind again. What do I say?
I started backing up towards the door as he ran towards the open window. I stopped as I realized he wasn't going to stop then he flew out of the window and went down. I ran for the window and as I reached it and peered down he zoomed up and back into the room and spun around in the air.
I must be sleeping, that was it, I fell asleep while reading.
I stood completely still as he lowered himself to the ground in front if me. He walked around me and stood on the window frame. He just started at me with a little smile on his lips. He held out his hand and کہا "Lets start a new generation of Wendy's, come to Neverland." I believed him every word. I took his hand and in a fast movement I was in the sky slowly watching the house shrink behind us.
I fell off my بستر leaving my بستر in between me and the window. I would have gotten up to shut the window doors but that was before a figure entered the opening.
There was enough of a shadow cast over the body that آپ couldn't make out any features. But I could tell that it was a man. He stood with a sturdy pose his legs locked in place, his arms on his hips, his head held high with no fear.
He hopped down off the نشست that was placed in front of the window and onto the old carpeted floor. His pose loosened as his feet hit the ground, quite silently considering how old the house was.
He slowly walked around the room. I stayed kneeled at the side of the bed, my eyes peering over the unmade sheets. I watched him pick things up and study them then just drop them back into place.
"And what daughter are you?" He asked. My eyes widened, he knew I was there the entire time. But I made no noise I didn't make one اقدام and yet he was talking to me as if we had been in a conversation since he burst threw my hotel windows.
"I'm sorry, daughter of who?" He spun on his heels, his برداشت, ریچھ feeted heels, facing right at me. I stood straight up as straight as I could. He took a few steps towards me.
"What generation of her granddaughters are you?" He asked again, slowly as if I was a complete idiot missing the conversation.
I had a total stranger burst into my hotel room, not سے طرف کی the door but سے طرف کی the سیکنڈ story window. Not only that he was completely mad. I decide the only way I was going to make it out alive with out him killing me in some psychopathic maniac way was to try to play along.
"What would my grandmother," I shook my head and changed the word. "great-grandmothers name be." He looked at me a bit confused as he placed his hands on his hips again just like when he had barged in. "Wendy"
"Okay and what is your name?" His hands that laid on his hips slid off to his sides. "Your grandmother hasn't told آپ about me? My name's Peter Pan."
I shook my head, as a child Peter Pan was my پسندیدہ story. My mother read a couple chapters a night and when she finished the book she would read it over again. In fact the reason I chose this small not so 21st century comfort hotel was because this was the house that J.M. Berrie based Wendy and her two brothers house on.
So this kid well not so much a kid as maybe a eighteen یا nineteen سال old things that he's Peter Pan a childhood fairy tale character.
"So now that I have explained myself to you, what granddaughter are آپ of Wendy's?" I shook my head. "I'm not related to Wendy." He looked as if he didn't believe me. "Then what are آپ doing in her house." His voice was getting angry and I was becoming a bit scared.
"Peter, this house is no longer owned سے طرف کی Wendys family, it hasn't been for years. It's ow a hotel." He looked at me odd. "How many years?" "Its been a few decades."
His strong featured face turned turned softly into a heartbroken disappointment. He slowly sank to the floor. His eyebrows pushed together. My body loosened up and moved very slowly to his sunken body. I sat down on my legs in front of him.
Softly I asked, "If your Peter Pan, why aren't آپ a boy? آپ don't look quite like a man but آپ certainly don't look like a boy." His teary eyed face looked up at me. "You've heard my story?" I raised my eyebrow quickly then let it drop. "Your story is quite famous." He smiled to himself. "Wendy was truly an amazing story teller." I shook my head and agreed.
He took a deep breath composed him self and sat up straight. "I am not a boy because of Wendy. If آپ know my story then آپ know that I did not come and stay with Wendy and the lost boys but went back to Neverland." he paused and waited for my response in which I smiled and nodded.
"I'm not quite sure how long it had been since I left Wendy and the lost boys but Wendy was not a child when I came back to hear مزید of her stories. I'm not quite sure why I chose to stay but I did and she took care of me. Years went سے طرف کی and I started to grow up; one evening I was looking out that window." He pointed to the still open windows. "and I saw the star, big and bright and Neverland came flooding back into my mind." he pause and waited a bit to continue.
"So that night I went threw my little chest I had under my بستر and I found pixie dust. It was quite easy to remember how to fly." I smiled. "A little faith and pixie dust." I کہا with a little smile remembering my mother saying it to me. "I got up in the air and just went straight آگے out the window and towards the star." He looked away from me and at the ground."I guess it's been quite a lot of years since I came back the last time I came it was Wendy's granddaughter who stayed in this room."
I was pulled into his story so much that if felt 100% true, I didn't know what to say what to respond that story.
"That part of آپ story has never been told." He stood up fast and into his pose. "Do آپ tell stories at all." I stood up confident and smiling. "I do, just I put them on many layers of paper." He gave me an are-you-serious look. "Like a book?" my lips pressed together as I nodded.
"I write teenage novels and children's کتابیں and don't give me that look, have آپ ever read a book یا even picked one up?" He shook his head a little embarrassed. "Wendy always read them to me, but yes I would pick کتابیں up all the time, who do آپ think got the book off the bookshelf?"
I giggled s bit at his comment. I looked up at him and his face in a matter of سیکنڈ went from serious to creeply excited. "Come to Neverland with me." My smile faded and I grew terrified he was loosing his mind again. What do I say?
I started backing up towards the door as he ran towards the open window. I stopped as I realized he wasn't going to stop then he flew out of the window and went down. I ran for the window and as I reached it and peered down he zoomed up and back into the room and spun around in the air.
I must be sleeping, that was it, I fell asleep while reading.
I stood completely still as he lowered himself to the ground in front if me. He walked around me and stood on the window frame. He just started at me with a little smile on his lips. He held out his hand and کہا "Lets start a new generation of Wendy's, come to Neverland." I believed him every word. I took his hand and in a fast movement I was in the sky slowly watching the house shrink behind us.
1 being the best 10 the worst
These کتابیں are great for summer reading I can honestly say that anyone that reads them will want to read them again.
10. Deacula سے طرف کی Bram Stoker
9. The Hobbit سے طرف کی Tolken
8. I'm the king of the قلعہ سے طرف کی Susan Hill
7. 1984 سے طرف کی George Orwell
6. The secret diary of Adrian تل, مول سے طرف کی Sue Townsend
5. Pride and prejudice سے طرف کی Jane Austine
4. Jane Eyre سے طرف کی شارلٹ Bronte
3. Lord of the Flies سے طرف کی William Golding
2. The curious incident of the dog in the nighttime سے طرف کی Mark Haddon
1 Rebecca سے طرف کی Daphne du Maurier
These کتابیں are great for summer reading I can honestly say that anyone that reads them will want to read them again.
10. Deacula سے طرف کی Bram Stoker
9. The Hobbit سے طرف کی Tolken
8. I'm the king of the قلعہ سے طرف کی Susan Hill
7. 1984 سے طرف کی George Orwell
6. The secret diary of Adrian تل, مول سے طرف کی Sue Townsend
5. Pride and prejudice سے طرف کی Jane Austine
4. Jane Eyre سے طرف کی شارلٹ Bronte
3. Lord of the Flies سے طرف کی William Golding
2. The curious incident of the dog in the nighttime سے طرف کی Mark Haddon
1 Rebecca سے طرف کی Daphne du Maurier
Remembering is just an invention of the mind,
So آپ need not try to remember something,
آپ remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that آپ could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
آپ try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, آپ try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
So آپ need not try to remember something,
آپ remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that آپ could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
آپ try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, آپ try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
*Poem I wrote for a class project on the holocaust.
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went سے طرف کی and مزید pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went سے طرف کی and مزید pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust
Me and Those
Ever noticed that in this life
Everyone wants آپ to do something,
یا be something
That sometimes آپ don’t want to be?
They are those!
آپ know them!
آپ probably have those in your house.
They are those who expect آپ to take a path,
Even though,
Sometimes,
آپ don’t want to take.
They are those who expect آپ to be great,
Even though,
Sometimes,
آپ prefer to be small and humble.
But do آپ think,
For the slightest second,
That they care about that?
They don’t!
They are your parents,
Your grandparents,
Your Uncles and aunts,
That since آپ were born,
Came up with a path for آپ in life.
But know this,
And say it to yourself:
They are those, they matter,
But me is I,
And I’m the main character.
Sitting right where آپ are
آپ have no claim on me
I know my own path
I am my own guide
آپ are nothing to me
No matter how آپ try
What do آپ care?
If I'm not doing it right
I'm not following you
I know my own path
I am my own guide
آپ don't know me
No matter how آپ try
Why are آپ here?
آپ know I don't want you
I told آپ to leave me
I am my own path
I know my own guide
آپ can't mold me
No matter how آپ try
Why do I feel compelled to write angsty poetry? I swear I'm not even that angsty. lol Oh well, I hope someone out there enjoys it.
A whisper in the cavern that goes unheard,
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved سے طرف کی any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind یا fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
یا accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will آپ take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop singing of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even سے طرف کی taking one step forward,
سے طرف کی placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
آپ will realize the cage has already been broken.
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved سے طرف کی any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind یا fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
یا accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will آپ take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop singing of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even سے طرف کی taking one step forward,
سے طرف کی placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
آپ will realize the cage has already been broken.