Should I Stay, Should I Go
Da Ja Vou
'I'm glad you made it' says an unfamiliar voice, Thank you, replies an older gentleman. Dressed in what I may say is early 19 hundreds. I look around to notice others dressed in similar attire. With a couple of exceptions, some were wearing what looked like naval or what crew members of a ship may wear. The other exception was myself. Everyone is in a frenzy, but what is causing this anxiousness or eager behavior.In further investigation I see more couples with children holding what looks like their worldly possessions . Others who are dressed much nicer are accompanied by their help in which they are toting or carrying some really high end luggage.What a motley of different people, I say to myself. Out of nowhere a loud irritating horn, or I should say boat horn blares out, followed by "all aboard" as it echos in my ear, " we set sail at 12:00".What in the world is this ? They seem to be in line waiting to get on this colossal ship. Where am I , this isn't New York, all the different speaking accents lead me to believe this. They were foreign like English and French not Brooklyn or Bronx. Last thing that I can remember I was waiting at the air port for some friends ,who were flying in ,but this was in New York. Nothing seems right, the people, the accents, not to mention even the time. I observe further to try to make sense of all this, when I notice one bone chilling factor, this ship that everyone is eagerly waiting to board, this monster of a vessel isn't just any vacationing or traveling vessel but none other than... Oh God, I also was getting on, God help me "THE TITANIC" ! That unsinkable ship that I had read about at least a hundred times in school. Yes ,that same indestructible vessel or so believed at the time.It was getting ready to go off on that doomed voyage.How can I be here boarding this same ship, was I too going to be part of this tragedy or was the reason me being here is to stop it from happening. Another possibility is maybe I'm dreaming , but I can smell the ocean ,touch the people, they are definately real. Whatever this was just became apparent. I was back in time waiting to board THE TITANIC, a ship whose voyage is the biggest catastrophe on sea of all time. I try to gather my sanity to understand all this, when I hear a ticket taker say " Remember this day you are about to get on the worlds largest crew ship, you will be part of history not only is she the most expensive luxury liner but also unsinkable. This day April 10 1912 the first trip of this luxurious vessel will go down in history. He was half right , It would be the first but it would also be her last. Now more questions filled my head. Why is this happening along with what do I do were just a few, but the main dilema I was tusseling with was how am I going to stop or warn the Captain of the Titanic's fate. Surely he would think I was a kook, especially just in how I was dressed. I was wearing a pair of Levis and a James Cameron t-shirt, oh the irony.I had to find different set of clothing if I was serious about trying to warn the Captain. How could I convince him to take a different route, or warn them about the icebergs, hell even some fucken binoculars to give them would do. As I'm trying to remember more facts about that or this dreadful day I hear a loud thunderous roar come from up above. Whatever it was just through me for a loop. A fog of confusion blankets over me. That sound,, a familiar sound, its an airplane. I was dreaming, it was just a dream I'm back to a familiar time , thank GOD. I'm back in New York September 11 2001. The time is 7:30 I still have time to meet my friends so we can go to the trade center. I can't wait to tell them about the crazy ass dream I just had. Seems like I dodged a bullet...or did she? THE END
About the Creator
Rose Rosales
My life could have been less hard knocks, but would it have been boring? All the obstacles,trials, and tragedies are probably what kept me going. Every time I was knocked down, I got back up. I didn't allow them to break me.
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Two Faces One Window
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Like clockwork, every Friday night she would look forward to seeing his other half, his significant other or whomever she may be. She was the most beautiful woman, she had ever seen; she was a natural beauty she didn't need all that makeup, that she would so abundantly use. Didn't she know how gorgeous she was without it, I guess no one had ever told her that. She, was going to be the one to tell her, if she ever got a chance to. Sabatina was this goddess like woman she would see every Friday and Saturday, but as quick as she would appear, she would exit just as graceful every Sunday night. A breath of fresh air... she was to everyone around her. She was so full of joy; her aura would radiate a room. How she wished she could be the one on the other side of the window. Danni was the total opposite. I guess that's why he kept her hidden from most. He kept her away from everyone, for her safety, she told herself. It wasn't that he was ashamed or embarrassed by her. He just knew how cold and cruel the world had become; they would not understand her shy nature or that she was nothing more than a plane Jane, with a hint of awkwardness. He had felt the need to keep her sheltered, hidden for all these years. To Danni, nevertheless, it was ok living in the shadows for the moment, but she was getting ready to make her debut. She, so wanted to be like Sabatina or at least in the same realm. She would no longer admire her from this side of the window. Danni would now let him know that she would be coming out. Her sequestered life would be no more. She felt her heart racing, as all these far- fetched ideas took space in her mind. Wishful thinking is all it was on her part, but oh, how she wished to be let out...just to be in the same circle with Sabatina. Saturday morning, Danni is up early waiting for the goddess to make her entrance, she knew her routine so well. Cup of jo in one hand and an ice pack in the other. Sabatina's hair was in disarray, her eyelashes were off in one eye, even her voice was a tad more hoarse than usual. Although still to Danni, she was the Queen of all Queens. It was always the same thing said, I will never drink after the show again, unless there is no encore, because a Queen needs her encore.... or is it entourage, Sabatina would say jokingly. In an almost robotic way, Danni, would find it funny every time. She would laugh so hard that sometimes she felt she could be heard by those on the other side. Aside of all this Danni, was now ready to let him know how she felt. In all her eagerness to confront him, she stops to notice something that had not occurred or even made apparent to her. She was so mesmerized with the goddess queen, that she never realized his absence. She thought long and hard at it was always the same, Mister and Sabatina were not close or so she thought. As far back as her memories could take her, she couldn't recall him ever speaking to her. Maybe he too was captivated by her mere presence. In so many ways she could see the reason for his absence. Mister was nothing like Sabatina, he too was the opposite, just like Danni. In so many ways, Danni and Mister were alike, but yet aside his benevolent nature, he would deliberately not admit. She would have to wait till he returned Monday from wherever it was he disappeared to. Danni started to see a pattern. Something had become troubling to her. Why had she not realized that after so many years of looking out his window, he was not seeing what she saw. Either he didn't find her as amusing as she did, or he was so intimidated by her he could never be in the same room with her. Whatever the reason, it was puzzling Danni, why she didn't notice this very obvious thing. The more thought she gave into it the more apparent it became. Today... she would ask Mister where he would go every time Sabatina would show up...So, what do yawl think, where did Mister go and would Danni ever make it on the other side of Mister's window. The answer is Yes.... Mister would not go anywhere to far he was always at arm's length. You see, Danni was seeing out the eyes of Mister's, because, in all reality Danni was Mister looking out the windows of his soul. Mister was Danni on an everyday occurrence aside the weekends. On the weekends Mister became who he truly was and longed to be, A woman. A diva, Sabatina. A person who was not afraid of who they were even though society didn't accept it... As for Danny, Mister will finally let her out. Danni, not only did she meet her Queen, but she also became this gorgeous Queen...Sabatina (The Most Beautiful Drag Queen ) on this side of the window.
By Rose Rosalesabout a year ago in Fiction
Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins3 days ago in Fiction
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