Beginning of My Book (very, very rough and needs a lot of work)

Prologue Amidst it all, she felt inexplicably with all she was and all she was supposed to be, that there was one thing that she could accredit her life to. The power of the past; the force in which drives the universe into full gear, and pushes people past the mundane into the future. Nostalgia is to be defined as, “a sentiment of longing or affection for the past with a personal association.” What if there was no association to a sentiment of longing? What explains how you can miss something in which you have never fully experienced? How do you try to associate with a time period that derived from before you were born? These seemed to be all the ambiguous questions she asked herself every time she looked at an old photograph or heard her grandmother's old Andy Williams record. Sometimes she wondered if there was a fluke in the universe and somehow she got dropped off a few decades late. But this is where she really began to indefinitely wonder about the semantics of her affinity,…
Experiment #6- Slam Poetry

The first time I felt insecure I was 10.
Passing remarks about how I should “go eat a burger” or “put some meat on my bones” caused me to question my self worth.
10 is too young to not feel anything but assurance in your self worth.
Worth to myself that I am enough.
Enough to overcome the passing, snarky remarks of people who take pleasure in your downfalls.

I was 13 when I couldn’t eat.
Starved myself for the compliments I was starved for.
Classmates said I should “go eat a salad” or I had “too much meat on my bones.”
I learned that while I may be starving, they were full.
Full of hatred for themselves; only able to let it out on others.
Only able to feel secure by making others insecure.

I learned at 13 years old that people make you feel less than because they feel less than.
Less than worthy, less than perfect, less than what others are.
They’re hurting because of their own issues with self worth.
But really what you’re worth to your self isn’t defined b…
Experiment #2
Kiss me, haunt me, break my heart

I want to get over you, but I don't know where to start

I changed my whole self for a moment so fleeting

I want to find me again; maybe in time, with healing

You hurt me, forgot me, broke my heart

I've finally stopped missing you

I guess that's a good start

Assignment 1- Short Story

The faint light in the dim janitor's closet lit up the center of the room. It shined on Adam and Jack's faces as they spoke in hushed and anxious whispers.

"I'm telling, it's true. I wouldn't lie to you about something like this. I don't know how to explain it. I just..can't control it," Jack said full of frustration.

"You're crazy dude. You need to stop messing around. There's no way it's true," Adam replied.

"Why don't you believe me? I just need to show you. That's the only way you'll believe me. The only way you can understand how I feel," Jack said anxiously awaiting Adam's response.

"This doesn't seem right. There's something else going on here. You're not telling the truth."

"Fine. Then let me show you."

"Okay, sure. Whatever. Just hurry up."

The two boys stepped out of the janitor's closet of their school and into the hallway of rushing students a…