63 Days

K, I wake up this morning after sleeping, oh…none. Phone is ringing, I dash (so totally not a dash, more like a slow roll/waddle/whimperwalk) to the phone that is 5 feet from my bed. I don’t make it before the answering machine gets it. Got that? I didn’t even get 5 feet in 6 rings. Sad. So anyway, its my brother who is calling from his cell phone to tell me that his wife who is due AFTER ME (by one day) is in labor. I told him I was so excited for him and to call when the baby is here. No news yet, she’s still in labor. It’s their second baby/boy in 13 months. Yep, their first born is Derek and he’s only 13 months and 6 days old. Mmmhmm, and he’s starting law school in San Diego in a month with two tiny babies!!! Crazy mofo.

So we get off the phone and I lay down while simultaneously being kicked on the internal organs. *commence crying and weeping on my part*

No baby yet for me. We’ve scheduled induction for Sunday night @8pm.

Keep your fingers crossed! I’ll update when he’s here!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX Alli

UPDATE!!!

Dylan was born via C-Section tonight at approx. 7:30. 8 lbs. 1 oz, 19″ long. YAY! Now…for me. The countdown is on! Less than 72 hours! I’ll let you all know when he’s here!

K, now its Saturday night!!!  My induction is 25 hours away!  What should I eat for my last meal?  Grrrr, I’m getting antsy.  Maybe its because I drove my parents and my aunt and uncle to the airport this morning at 4 am so they could go to Cabo without me!!!  Jerks…

Here’s what’s going on in my house:

* My 7 year old wrote all over a white turtle neck with big green and purple letters that say “FLASH” and “i’ll be back” and “run, sucka”. He also wears it with jeans and a pair of tighty whitey undapants over the top. Oh yeah, and he made a bandito style eye covering with eyeholes cut out. I need to take a picture for you.
* my husband is totally unconscious next to me, I think he took like 3 ambien last night and now he sleeps the slumber of the dead. Not so much fun.(I’m kidding about the ambien, he was up late last night trying to fix this darn computer)
* I am on complete bedrest. Complete. Lay down all the time. I totally cheat and go downstairs and shopping for groceries sometimes, then I pay with pain in the baby region.
* This baby is still breech.
* This means he’s stubborn.
* He tries to kick his feet out of my body.
* I don’t particularly like the feeling of feet tearing through my body from the inside, let alone the outside.
* We decided on a middle name…well…on another part of this name we’re giving this child. I think he may have 2 or 3 middle names, but so does my dad.
* Harper Elias Michael Easley is what we have on the bill now. Maybe Elias Harper Michael Easley. I’d call him Eli, everyone else will call him Harper or something. I like Eli best.
* I’m the mom.
* That means I matter most.
* Its the 4th of July, hurrah! We’re going swimming out back and bbq-ing and probably to some firework show at one of the 2352365224623 shows going on around Vegas.

On a lighter note, I watched A&E’s “Intervention” the other night, there was a 19 year old moon faced girl, looked like she could be my sister…she was on drugs really hard and I was suddenly taken back to my 19th year and had a little mental breakdown in silence at Walgreens at midnight. My husband just stayed quiet, which was perfect, held my hand and reassured me that I am good enough now that I’m 32 and so far from that time to be the mother of these children in my house. I realized that moment…I’m so dang far from healed. What the heck do I need next? Seriously. Seasons change, this one’s not so pretty.

Hopefully this baby coming within the next 2 weeks will make me remember why I love everything…right now I just see gray film on everything…tarnish…smoky windows instead of clear ones.

…catch me later, I’ll be on an upswing and I’ll be much happier. Thanks for listening, and goodnight.

by the way…I haven’t been able to sign into my forum for about 3 months….what’s up in there? People still talk? I miss you all. Somebody help!

K, I’m so sorry guys. Blah, blah blah I know, you’ve heard it all before. I have 5 weeks til my baby comes, and I’ve been in the hospital and just got out. Kidneys shut down, I think its called Pylo something. Anyway, I am out and posting again. Thanks for waiting.

My favorite family residing in California welcomed their second child, Bennett, April 24th.  Go see this beautiful baby…

One thing about the nighttime in that area of the world is that there are literally an annoying amount of stars.  You get used to it sometimes but there are other times where its just so bright, you swear the moon is crashing down on earth or that its about to explode.  Tonight was one of those nights.
I awoke to the crackle of footsteps and opened my eyes.  All I could see were stars above me and for a second I thought I’d been dreaming the noises.  I heard him walking around again and glanced over and saw one of the counselors pulling his pack on.  He was shifting it from one shoulder to the other. 

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My sister emailed me yesterday a picture of her 3 boys, aged 8, 5 and 3. They sat, smiling faces and baskets full of Easter candy and toys, in front of the fireplace in the family room in their GORGEOUS new home in Lehi, Ut.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, they were grinning and shy, afraid of the camera (just like their mom, so much unlike me…their aunt) until I glanced over to the youngest one, Isaac, and noticed a little tiny basket sitting alone a few feet from him and his basket. In it was a tiny yellow stuffed baby bunny. My heart lept and my stomach did a big somersault.  Let me explain a few things before I tell you exactly WHY my stomach jumped so much.

 I’m due July 31 with my baby, Harper.  He’s an active little one, very intune with music and let me tell you, if he doesn’t come out doing head spins and poppin’ and lockin’ I’ll be surprised.  This kid has some MOVES, I tell ya.  Anywho, a month after I announced my pregnancy, my brother Taylor and his wife Mandy announced that they were pregnant with a boy as well…due the day after me.  They have a 10 month old son already and this pregnancy, although very soon and unexpected after the birth of their first son (their babies will be 14 mos apart…yipes!) is a very happy and exciting thing.  Our boys will grow up cousins, probably days apart if not sharing a birthday.

So back to the stomach jumpin easter pic.  My sister, lets call her E, she’s 15 mos younger than I am but she couldn’t look much different, heck, BE much different than I am.  She’s tall and thin and she has gorgeous porcelain skin and black shiny hair.  As a matter of fact, I’m the only short blonde in my family.  Anyway…she’s calm, and mellow, and very zen, while I’m a bit of a fire cracker (thats putting it nicely…) and I have a tendency to get extremely excited over tiny things like Slurpees and watermelon Hubba Bubba and lettuce wraps from PF Changs.  Some may find it endearing, but I find my over excitement about life…exhausting.  I can’t help it, I live in a manic mania.  Sweet.  Ok so I’m rambling, what’s new (spoonful of manic anyone?) but ok here goes…
E’s pregnant too!  She’s due a month or so after me and Taylor/Mandy!  Can you believe this?  She has 3 boys already so chances are she’ll have another one.  That’s 3 boy cousins due within days/weeks of eachother!  Christmas will be lets say…very whispery.  Lord knows who will be napping at any given time…you know how babies roll.

Is it just me or is this verrry odd?

Helloooooooo from Las Vegas. Times are changing, much like the seasons. My family and I are all moved into the new house (I’m a liar) and all of the boxes are unpacked (my nose is hitting the monitor as we speak) and we’re all just sitting pretty enjoying the lovely decor (ok, I’m going to hell for lyin). Anyway, as you can gather from my big fat lies, I’m still getting life together, but much more happily!

For one…………….baby is NORMAL! Yay! I would have loved him (verified - XY…most definately a boy!) anyway he came to me but as far as they can see, he’s perfect. Now if I could just convince him my bladder is not a papasan chair and that my ribcage is not a wall for him to practice pelvic thrusts and soccer moves on…then we’d be in business buddy.

Two, I’m feeling much less stressed out at work. Things are in a groove and I’m still loving my job, which is such a blessing. How many people can say that?

As far as the story goes…you know the one…63days… I keep dreaming that it comes out and everyone who reads the ending thinks its written by Stephen King, although, there are no killer clowns in it, no big ax wielding hoteliers and no cell phone zombies to speak of. Maybe I’m just scared its going to be anticlimactic.  Maybe I should throw in a winning lottery ticket and a weird series of numbers…oh oh oh! and an underground hatch that has food stored and then there can be “Others” around and then one day these people from the other side of Lake Powell could show up and they think that WE are “others” so they try to kill us and then there can be an attempt to make a raft and escape but somebody steals a small black boy and then…oh wait…that’s “Lost”…never mind.  I’ll just stick to the truth. I mean…I’m still alive now, obviously, so it won’t end dramatically with me telling my story on my death bed… Dangit, I’ll just post it.
K, if you’re still around, I’m still around. Don’t be surprised if I just vomit out the rest of this dang story all over your arses pretty quick.

Oh! Wait! Tell me what you think of HBO’s “Big Love”… I’m curious at your insight and opinions…

If you’re wondering whats going on with my life, let me fill you in!

We moved. Finally. Got into the new house, put everything away or in the garage when an enormously disgusting strain of the FLU hit our family. All of us. Me, the 4 kids and the hubby. Good times. THEN!!!!!!!!!! I got an abnormal AFP test back from my doctor.

For you men out there, or people who aren’t familiar with standard tests they run on pregnant women, at approx. 18 weeks, your doctor usually runs a gamut of tests that check a certain protein called Alpha-Fetoprotein and a few other hormone levels. It basically tests for things like Spina Bifida, neural tube defects and Downs Syndrome. Well… I go into my doctors office about 2 weeks after the test was administered and having not heard anything one way or the other (since they told me they’d call me in a few days with results if it came back positive/abnormal) I assumed that everything was ok. When I was checking out, my doctor’s nurse runs up to me and quite loudly, in front of everyone waiting, says “Oh ALLI! I’ve been trying to call you! (lies) Your AFP test came back abnormal.” She then leaned in closely to speak suddenly very privately (too late) :

“I don’t know the exact numbers, but we need you and your husband to go in for genetic counseling and for a level 2 ultrasound and possibly an amnio…soon, like tomorrow.”

She grabs my arm and takes me to the front of the line and says “Cheryl! Mrs. E needs to get in SOON to Desert Perinatologists for testing. She had an abnormal AFP!” and runs away. I could feel the eyes of the 352,365 pregnant women in the waiting room burning into my back with intense empathy while at the same time they were feeling pity/relief it wasn’t them.

Here’s where it gets really good. Cheryl cannot reach the perinatologist’s scheduling lady immediately, so she tells me she’ll call me with the appointment time. We go home, we’re stressed out, wondering if this sweet boy I’m carrying has something horribly wrong with him, and we realize 2 days later during the weekend that she’s never called us back with a time to go in.

I go into work on Monday and what do you know, we had an appointment the previous friday that she called me on MONDAY to remind me of, very apologetically. Honestly people, am I wrong to want to disect this woman’s ovaries while she lays on a bed of nails?

I call and make my OWN appointment for the following friday (last friday) and we wait nervously all week for the day to come. As we arrive, there are other women, equally nervous and visibly shaken, waiting in the gorgeous waiting room. A half an hour later, they call us back where a genetic counselor drills us about our heritage and our family tree. Mine is pretty basic. A few bouts of high blood pressure, but we’re a big fat scandinavian family on both of my parents side, my dad being 100% Swedish, my mom being 50% Swedish/50% Norwegian…can ya get any whiter than me? Anyhoo, we get to my husband…he’s half black, 1/4 Korean 1/4 Japanese. He’s got lots of diseases on his side, but either way, neither of us have had any of the things they’re looking for in this baby.

We go out into the ultrasound room where I’m schmeared with warmish lubricating jelly all over my belly and a woman who was really nice and totally hot (I might add) did an extensive and amazing ultrasound of our baby. Let me tell you…technology cannot be more amazing when you’re looking at your baby through one of these $500,000 machines. I could see his profile, I saw him suck his thumb and fingers, he made faces, he has a dimple on one cheek. AMAZING. What we were looking for was any kind of abnormality that would point to any disorder they were looking for. We ruled out spina bifida and cystic fibrosis, we ruled out a few other things, but they decided it would be smart for me to have an Amnio. If you don’t know what that is, let me brief you on it.

5 inch needle. Jam it directly down into the water surrounding the baby. Move/dig around while you’re finding your way around in there, make certain to take no concern with mother’s comfort. Suck out 3 huge syringes of water. Pull out violently. The end.

Good times.

Anyway, I have to wait 10 calendar days, but this test will tell us exactly who our baby will be. They will be testing the skin cells from the baby that are sloughed off into the water they extracted for dna, and a study will be done on at least 15 cells to look for the genetic marker that will tell us if he has Downs Syndrome.

I’m only 32. Am I too old to be doing this?

Thanks for listening.

Helllooooooo! Anybody out there?

Just thought I’d pop in and let you know whats up. After some intense looking around, searching and studying, we found a new place to live here in Vegas. So we’re moving, my 4 kids/husband/and I. Its a beautiful home and I’m really excited to get in there! I got a promotion at work and have been in Seattle for training and in my new office learning everything there is to learn about lending and banking and oh my gosh the numbers…they’re coming out of my ears!!!!

I also got shingles. I know, gross. We thought they were chicken pox but they’re not, they’re shingles. I am on the road to feeling much better, but for a while there, I looked like hell.

One more thing. All of your comments…so amazing. You supporters/family who has been there through it all/friends…you are the reason I’m posting the rest of my story finally.

The few people who are jerks…here: I’ll post your comments and your email address for everyone. Hey, you posted it to a public forum, I’m reposting it for everyone to see. Here’s my favorite one from this week:

_________________________________

anonymous said:

Its been almost 3 months since you last posted part of your story. This is
clearly not a matter of being too busy. I SMELL BULLSHIT!

Either post your story or say the the real reason why you won’t. Either
way…… do something.

______________________________________
Isn’t “anonymous” sweet? Awww, I love people like that. Anyway, “anonymous” sounds like a real hoot!

K guys, I may make the rest of the story password protected, I haven’t decided yet, either way, if you want to be on the list if I do end up doing it, comment to me, I’ll see your email addy and I’ll add you! Who knows, I may just put it up.

Love you all!

Alli

UPDATED:

I took the email out of the post. Apparently it “crossed the line” to some. meh.

To those of you who send me horrible emails talking about how you are angry and upset that I make promises to post then I end up not posting…send me your home address, I’ll forward you my utility bills and you can pay those for me so I can miss work to write a new entry! There, we both get something out of my story.

Hey, has everyone seen the hubbub about James Frey’s book “A Million Little Pieces”? Let me give you a quick synopsis if you haven’t already seen all of the press he’s been getting on damn near every single news network over the last few weeks.

James Frey was an incredibly sad addict when he was 20 or so (he’s my age…32) and when he hit rock bottom, he went to a treatment facility and after 6 dramatic weeks, he was released and changed his life…forever. His story was written and at one point, Oprah made the book part of her book club. A few of the details in his story have been found to be a bit embellished but 99% of it has checked out and rings true. The story is captivating and it was all I could do to not read it in one day last month. (before all of the horrible press)

Anyway, James Frey is an amazing survivor, he tells an important story and I think the press he’s been getting is absolutely offensive to see and completely ignorant. The most important part of his story was his experience in the treatment center. Thats the part that helps people.

Anyway, this is the kind of thing that scares me. I get email daily that supports me, but I also get email and comments daily that call me a bold face liar. One man who has a website about having a brain disorder read my story and commented that “Although those camps were bad, this is obviously a work of fiction.”

Ok, so I’ve written the rest of my story and plan on posting it this week. Now I’m freaked out about the press/sharks/haters.

What are your thoughts? Anyone?

Thanks guys. Miss you all! I’m back!

~ Alli

UPDATE!!!:::

(the chick with a baby

BOY

in her pregnant belly)

…darn ultrasounds…now they say its a boy…who’da thunk??????

By the way, I saw now that Oprah has rescinded her support of Frey. Listen, I don’t “need” the approval (as some of the commenters remarked) so much as I wanted your honest opinions as I care about that. I have a family, a job, a new baby on the way and a very very very delicate relationship with my parents right now (its the best we’ve ever been) and I was simply wondering what you guys thought. I don’t want to throw my story out there so that my kids have to watch their mother go through scrutiny like that. This book isn’t my goal in life…the story getting told is all I ever wanted…whether it be in a published work or around a camp fire with my closest friends.

Thank you all for your comments…I read them all before approval. You guys are what keeps me strong.

Or does this season just KILL you? I’m trying to balance work and kids and husband and morning sickness and dad and hospital and writing. I lack in the last one, I’m so sorry. I’m working on it, and tomorrow is my day off. Lets see if I can crank one out by noon, shall we?

Love ya,

Alli

Sorry I haven’t posted, I will tonight. My dad is in open heart surgery today and…my husband and I just found out we’re expecting a baby! It’s been a crazy last 2 weeks.. Stay tuned. See ya’ll tonight!

~ Alli

*Notice: some of the names that have been used here were too close to the real ones. I’ve been asked to change some details about them as well as the names, as they have apparently led to some issues in some of their personal lives. I apologize for this and hope that no harm has come from this situation. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone else that endured with me.

Alli

_______________________________________________________

There were about 20 students standing at the top of the crack that was in the huge red wall infront of us. The wall itself seemed to tower about 10 stories above us and the crack was about as wide as a 1 car garage. We all stood there, staring down at the grey water. Huge boulders and 5 foot drops tripped their way quickly down from the top all the way to the bottom and from what I could see from where I was standing, there was only a miniscule beach down there.

“Ok guys…first comes first. Unload the handcarts. Get everything out. Set it on the ground and when you’re done, get your asses back over here….NOW!” Murdock was coming back. His anger and spite was quelled for a while when *Amy showed up, but every now and then, he’d lose it a bit and it made you hate him all over again.

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Have you ever smelled rain in the desert? Its like nothing you’ve ever inhaled, the wet, cool fragrance tickling the back of your throat as it fills your lungs with moist musk. Perfume from trees like junipers and yuccas wafts into every breeze scenting the air. I love that smell.

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Hole-In-The-Rock road went on for miles. The Kaiparowitz mountains were to the west of us, the cliffs appearing black and steep while to the east of us, the desert went on for miles until it dropped down into Lake Powell. Slick rock and desert were in between.

Cody and I had decided to teach the other kids on the trek some songs we’d sung as little girls at church. Somehow, the counselors let her get away with darn near anything. I swear she was an angel. Anyway, the first song we taught the others was called “Popcorn Popping.” It went with hand actions when you were 3 and your parents had dropped you off to sing with 35 other wild 3 year olds for 2 hours, but at our age, and since we had to push and pull handcarts…we just sang the words. It went something like this:

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We woke up on the morning of April 21st to a beautiful sunrise. We gathered our things, and I thought nothing of it. We stuffed a spoonful of dry oats into our mouths and started out for the daily route. In a few hours it began to get hot out on the road, the grinding noise of the metal linked wheels of the handcarts becoming as familiar as traffic becomes to those who live in the big city. We pushed and pulled those things every morning from sun up ’til sun down. It was our life, and it sure as hell beat climbing steep mountains with rocks on your back. I almost had forgotten, but as soon as we sat for our mid morning water break, I realized it was my 16th birthday.

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“So, you’re Alli the car stealer?” Cody asked me, inquisitively yet not quite judgementally. I took no offense and answered with a nod to the affirmative.

“Wow yeah, I heard all about you. My dad was called into his office when you were missing. You’ve got balls” she said.

“Well,” I answered “I didn’t do it to get attention. I didn’t do it to prove anything. I just wanted to get out.” I looked down at her new Nike hiking boots. This girl was spoiled…that was obvious.

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Handcarts are heavy. The weight adds up when you’re dragging 1500 lbs. on two rickety wheels up and down horribly rocky and steep dirt roads. Six of us on each cart, two at a time would take turns pulling up in front or pushing in back and one person on each side making certain nothing fell out.

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I was contacted by Kathy Moya from FICA, Fight Institutional Child Abuse. She informed me of an important woman doing an important thing for the safety of children. Her name is Allison Pinto. She has composed an Open Letter to Congress regarding Institutional Child Abuse. If you wish, you can sign the Open Letter to Congress, as well as an online petition to pass the HR Bill 1738 “End Institutionalized Abuse Against Children Act of 2005″. There is also an article by Allison Pinto explaining the situation right there at that site.

Go HERE to help. We need GOOD, QUALIFIED and LOVING care for our children, troubled or not. We have GOT to do something.

Thank you all,

Allison

Handcarts. Handcarts are wooden boxes, I’d say they’re about 6′ x 6′ in the actual “cart” with about a 2′ depth. The wheels are about 4′ high and they’re wood with wooden spokes that have a bent and hammered on strip of metal that wraps around the entire outside of the wheel. There are only 2 wheels, and the handle in the front accomodates 2 people inside of the bar. Its primitive, to say the least, but its definately appropriate when your captors want you to go down the only road you’ve really seen up ’til now, as slooooooowly as possible.

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The dusty rays of the morning sun filtered down through the little shack we were sleeping in. A rusty bed frame, springs orange from oxidation and age, was propped against the wall facing the door. A tiny window let light in through the boards that were nailed up over its filmy yellowed glass and the air inside was stale. It was a horrible little hell hole, but it was shelter.

I rolled over on my pancho and as it made its little crinkle sound, I noticed something off to my right, under an old wood storage box. A white glimmer was peeking out from behind the box, against the wall, and I gently reached my arm over to pull it out. Everyone else made tiny sleeping noises as I lifted out a magazine, water damamged and hard from age, some of the pages were falling to pieces as I slowly dragged it towards me, but when I put it down on the floor next to my face, carefully using my body on its side to shield anyone else’s view, I flipped open to the center.

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They’re airing my little bit on Fox News’ “Dayside” today. 1 oclock eastern, 10 oclock pacific. If you’re new here to 63days, go to the bottom of this page and click “previous entries” and start from #1 or click here

thanks!

Alli

April was upon us and the tiniest little yellow flowers covered every square inch of what would soon be dry desert brush. Purple and blue blooms dotted the golden fields around us as we hiked up out of the canyon and toward what we were told were called the “slick rock plains”. The ground was red dirt, and it was almost squishy, even though it was dry. Cow tracks covered the trail we were filing down and every once in a while, we came across a big pile of cow poop. The dry ones would be kicked along and the wet ones avoided, but we didn’t even care, they didn’t stink anymore…we were desert people and totally used to all the smells of the area.

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Waking to the sound of water is probably one of the most wonderful things a person can wake to. Tiny pips and drops that sound like bubbles popping pique your imagination, making you wonder if the sound is being made by tiny fish, jumping in the golden morning light or frogs hopping in shallow inlets. For a moment, you almost forget you’re stuck in the desert.

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The night crept coolly up the sandy beach that we had made camp on. After the falls, we hiked down the river a ways until we reached a soft and open spot. We all picked our areas out to lay our pack in and started to prepare our beds. The crickets and cicadas were singing a duet in the dusky spring air and we let them entertain us while we all worked in silence. The day seemed perfect, as perfect as prison camp could get.

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Ok, I’ve been gone. I have much more to write, but as it is right now, my husband and I are getting divorced. In the mean time, he thinks that when its final, he will get half of my earnings from this, although there is no book. This is a weblog, not a book and there is no money to come out of it. Now, my journal…this blog…is for my healing, and I am free to write again. Thank you ALL for your patience…

Alli

Comments are open on this topic

Brat Camp is coming on ABC. I’m sickened.

We could hear the water before we could see it. We’d all become so accustomed to the sound of the river that it was barely audible, but as we trodded forward, we could hear falling water and it sounded almost too good to be true.

The red canyon walls were glowing from the midday sun and the cottonwood trees were birthing tiny little seed pods that floated in the breeze that tickled its way down the narrow path we were taking. As the seeds moved through the air, they caught tiny bits of sunlight and they danced in the air like tiny little ballerinas with fire for tutus.

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The Burr Trail can be incredibly beautiful. As the sun rose this morning, I looked around me. I could hear the sharp whir of the cicadas humming in the tree that sat central on our little sandy river island. Sunrays poured over the top of the steep canyon that was in front of us to the east and tiny insects danced through the light as if stirring its warmth.

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I woke up to the sound of running water. The river was still next to us, its icy water rolling over rocks and logs as it headed toward Lake Powell. Birds chirped in the single cottonwood tree that stood guard in our little sandy island, and it was glowing at the top from the sun that was climbing slowly over the top of the narrow opening of the canyon walls.

I sat up and noticed others starting to rise up. My journal had been left out and apparently the moisture in the air had warped some of the pages so I grabbed it hurriedly and stuffed it in my blanket. A counselor blew a whistle.

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I’m back. It’s a long story. More to come.

Don’t forget to vote. You know you’re appreciated.

Love you guys,

Alli

The next few days were relatively uneventful as fas as Challenger excitement goes. We walked, we slept, we ate rice and oats. We cried silent tears as we hiked endless miles in the desert. I noticed that the boys who came in acting all rambunctious were now beginning to mellow out. The girls who were prissy and proper when entering the program were now beginning to behave like young men, insofar as how they stood, spitting…that kind of thing. I made sure that I’d not resort to losing my manners, so I never let myself turn into a boy.

Sometimes on rests, the girls would sit together talking about how they wanted to make traps to kill mice and eat them. They’d sit perched on rocks, knees apart, elbows leaning on them. They were becoming almost like men.

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The day after the deer feast, I woke up to silence. Not a crackle of fire, not the snap of feet moving over fallen leaves and brush, not a sound out of a human mouth was to be heard. I sat up and looked around and everything was quiet. It was almost like a photograph, everyone lying still, nothing moving at all.

I stood up and grabbed my journal and sat back down on my blanket and began to write a letter.

Dear Mom and Dad,

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Six months prior to Challenger

“Get up Alli. You’re going to be late for seminary!”

My dad was pulling the blanket off of me by the foot of the bed. I grabbed the blanket and rolled with it onto my side, groaning and complaining about how early it was.

“Just get up. You’re going. That’s it!” he said popping on the light on the ceiling. It poured into my face and I could barely open my eyes. Sitting up slowly was about all I could do and I rubbed my eyes as I swung my feet onto the carpet. The clock glared red at me, and 5 am was its announcement. I hated mornings.

I walked into the bathroom and climbed into the shower. The water poured down on my head and I struggled to keep my eyes open as it gently massaged the back of my neck. My ride was picking me up in 30 minutes, so I’d have to hurry. Read on »

“We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with
nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke,
and a presumption that once our eyes watered.” - Tom Stoppard

Today, yesterday….what a mess. I’m recovering, I hope everyone else involved in this situation here remembers that life is for living, the flowers are there for smelling, rain for walking in, snow for catching in our mouths. Choices are made in tiny moments that can change hours of people’s lives, erase years of history. Falling off of a cliff, sometimes you turn around to see who pushed you before you realize that you jumped on your own. Nobody feels hate like the hated, and likewise, those who love are loved in return. Time heals, pain feels, hearts are mended and friendships rebuilt.

The only thing I feel right now for all of us is love…everconstant….you know who you are.

Don’t forget to vote. You know you’re appreciated. I should take you all out for slurpees. Yes, I most definately should…

Love you guys,

Alli

Four kids sat on a log in the dark, away from the rest of us. Their eyes little black glittering holes that held sadness and hunger in their gaze. I didn’t want the deer. I didn’t want to eat in front of them.

“Hahaha, look at those kids. HEY KIDS! Ya hungry yet? Mmmmmmmmmm, look at this. Its hot and its salty. Oh and these potatoes…aren’t they good?” Murdock said, looking over at the four. He chewed like a goat.

I slowly stirred my potatoes around and poked at the hunk of deer flesh that sat on my plate. I wasn’t even hungry anymore. I had a paper plate full of food and the kids who tried and tried their hardest to get a fire but hadn’t succeeded were eating raw oats and rice with half a bouillion cube in it. That was their reward for sweating and crying and trying for 12 hours. Half of a damn bouillion cube.

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I’m in the middle of renovation, as you can see, and while I’m doing that, if you want archives, go to the bottom and work up, and start with #1. I’m sorry. We’re hurrying as fast as we can!

In the mean time, go to the forums and post, why don’tcha!

I’ll put up a new entry tonight late…late…

Love you all, and don’t forget to vote!!!

Alli!

I’m taking a moment away from the story to say one thing…I hope you don’t mind.

I was nominated for the Blogette Awards! I’m so honored and excited to even be there, so if you wouldn’t mind, would you just take a second and please vote for me here. Encourage everyone you know to do so as well…whoo hoo! Also, I’ve included a link on my sidebar to vote…look on the right hand side of your screen below my profile and there you can click and vote for 63days.com at the second picture and link down that says “VOTE HERE TOO”!!! Thanks to all you loyal readers, I know who you all are and I appreciate your support while I heal and try to get my story out. The winner gets $1000, and who in their right mind wouldn’t love $1000?

Thank you in advance!

Much love and kisses,

Alli

ps, enjoy the new entry today!

I woke up with the flavor of peach wine coolers on my tongue. It took me a minute to realize that I was still in this hell, not at home with Jana. It was all a dream.

The other students were beginning to wake, their arms stretching above their dirty heads. The counselors were over by their fire warming up something that smelled like hot chocolate and raisin oatmeal. They were talking about something quietly, whispering softly…glancing at the student area with unsteady eyes. One of them stood up and came over to where we were laying and put his hands on his mouth, cup style to amplify his voice.

“Ok, here’s the deal! Get up! I have an announcement!” he shouted, looking around at us.

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