October 1, 2003
The grassy field
A place of sun
a place of sweat
even though its winter
silver metal bleachers
get baked, reflecting the sun’s heat
and making the viewers topple over with stroke
the ball
jumps around getting beat again and again
by little girls and their shin guards
a fight breaks out,
enough to end the soccer game
because the fight is humans against weather
the sky darkens
the breeze becomes cold
the sun stands behind the dark grey clouds
trying to break free
the winds pick up
leaves are thrown here and there
a siren blares
my stomach falls to my feet
and I go into fight or flight
the soccer game
a place of misery
has just escalated
to a different level
people run and flee
they’ll do anything to get away
from the twisting cloud of darkness
above them
I’m quickly seperated
from my family
in the haze
the wind grows stronger
in need to find shelter
as I run
my calf hits the bleacher
thats not hot anymore
its stone cold
I fight the searing pain
my knee buckles
but I keep trudging on
to the run down 7 Eleven
Its a sad store thats about to close for good
the big wrap-around windows are filled
with sales and rental
agreements
little does it know
its gonna play a big part in my life
I’m sprinting now
towards the 7 eleven
I look back to see the grass being ripped from the field
the ball is long gone
so are the tents
that protected the viewers
from the withered sun
the bleachers have disappeared in the big funnel
that keeps rising and growing
people are running for their lives now
and a few unlucky
get swept into the haze
I turn my head
tears flowing down my face
like a water-fall after a huge storm
I try not to think
about the unlucky
I think about getting to safety
I’m under the awning of the run down
7 Eleven
the windows have a few cracks
and the sign looks retired
but it looks safe
the air raid siren is perched on the roof
of the squat building
the wailing stops abruptly
as the siren is ripped from the safety of the building
I throw open the door
and waste no time running inside
the employee is not having anything
he is oblivious to the funnel outside
or the death threat that haunts us all
he is trying to listen to a podcast
but it keeps glitching out
then he looks up and tears the ear buds
from his red ears
his face is puzzled
trying to figure out why a bunch
of scared, shivering, and soaked people
are doing at an off grid 7 Eleven
thats about to close
his face lights up
and he immediately goes into work mode
calling people to the counter
trying to convince them to buy things they
don’t need
the crowd is confused
obviously trying to figure out
why a random
7 Eleven
employee
is trying to get them to buy
stuff
in a major crisis like this
Then the employee excuses himself
to go take out the trash
He takes the overflowing trash bag
and pushes himself outside
he is immediately swept away by the tornado
we stand there in shock
not talking, not moving
still taking in what just happened
He didn’t know
he never did
he had no idea
of what was to come of him
there was nothing we could do now
except wait and wait
October 2, 2003
the neighborhood is a mess
cars hanging from street lamps
destroyed road
every single tree
is flat
or
gone
there are thousands dead
and we were in the 7 Eleven
for two days
my house is destroyed
and so is my hope
my family is long gone
sped away in a half-working car
to Alabama
we’re in Huston
and they went
without
me
I wonder around the trashed neighborhood
dumbfounded
I don’t know what to do
where to go
who to ask
I just keep trudging on down the street
where the tornado
put a permanent mark on
and my heart
I see people with others
helping others dig through
their withered lives
I pass an office building
its raised from the ground of steel pillars
five of them have collapsed
the building is leaning to the left
a helicopter hangs from its blade
on a steel cable on the top
of the building
Its windows have been destroyed
a fire is glistening from ins engines
and its tail is long gone
I pass an old victorian house
its leaning to the side
like it could topple over at any moment
half of it has been bombed flat
and a garbage truck is parked in the kitchen,
flipped over
trash spilling
onto these people who have just lost everything
The street is covered with water
everything is damp
I know where to go
I have seen flyers
posted on windows
glued to telephone poles
taped to trucks
passing by
Its a camp
that will supply you
with food and shelter
the kind people there
will take your beloved names
and try to find them
since I know where my family is
I can tell them
and they will alert my family
that I’m alive and healthy
October 29, 2003
I’ve been at the camp
for twenty days
the days seem to drag
on
forever
I’ve heard nothing from my family
the volunteers are
still trying
to find them
Halloween is nearing
two days
Sometimes
I go
on
walks
through the scarred neighborhood
I have nothing left for me here
I have no friends
no aunts
no uncles
no loved ones
no one
I’m all alone
in the big
mean
world
as I walk everyday
I see the town
through a different perspective
people are trying to rebuild
they’re trying to put
they’re lives back together
somehow failed
they have left town
searching for a new life
their remains scarr the city
what is left of their houses
reputations
jobs
life
is still here
in a tiny town in Texas
they know
that their lives still remain here
unloved
unwanted
uncared for
they have nothing here
just like me
I walk by my old school
and remember
all of the good things
I had here
I used to not pay attention
to the teacher
or the lesson
and day dream
My parents
and teachers
were annoyed
that I daydreamed
they said that I would get nowhere in life
If I just sat at a desk
and daydreamed
at recess
I would bring a book with me
my only friend was a milky white salamander
I would read
as my friend sat on the wall
and sunbathed
at lunch
I would also bring a book
and read about the adventures
of little kids like me
those were the happy times
but as I look at my school now
just a metal skeleton
with rubble circling it
I know that those times are over
November 1, 2003
Halloween is long over
and I’m still at camp
but I can sense that things are changing
news that will rock the Earth
news that will scar human hearts for good
the news involves three planes, three buildings, and 2,977 dead
It happened in New York
airplane flights circled back to their departure HQ
trying to avoid the area of death
two buildings have fallen
covering New York in scars that will never leave
physically
mentally
in Arlington, Virginia
a third plane flew into a geometric building
184 have died
even though they never did anything wrong
or maybe they did
did they deserve it?
did they not?
would it have happened
if those flights had never taken off?
I don’t know
April 17, 2005
It’s been over a year
since the twister
since the planes
since the death
since the beginning
of this life mess
that I wish had never happened
that so, so many wish had never happened
there are no kids in my camp except me
I’m the only one
left
unloved
uncared for
they still haven’t been able to reach my family
and I’m twelve now
two days ago
I witnessed the worst thing that’s happened
since the disaster
a minivan pulled into the circle drive way
a woman in a wheelchair got out
and opened the sliding door
five kids bounced out
running around
faces alight with joy
a kid
about the same age as them
who had been staying in a cardboard box
on the edge of camp
because it was full
walked up to them and jumped in the car
later
the head director told me
that the kid had been a foster
and now had found a forever home
the thought sickened me
he had never found his family
never found the people he loved
why?
did his family not care about him?
would he never find them?
he seemed too young to understand at the time
but I knew
that when he was older
the dreams would come to haunt him
January 2, 2008
It’s been three years
I’m fifteen
my hope is lost
who can say
why they never found my family?
I’m out of the camp
staying
long-term
at a remote hotel
in the middle of nowhere
its like the eighteen-hundreds
the way the red mesa and plateaus
stand against
an old
wooden
unnamed town
where people dress like Pilgrims
It looks rustic
from the eighteenth century
where cop horses
stand by empty stables
and get washed
with cloth
I’m on my own
the camp
was destroyed
it was a so called accident
I didn’t think so
I woke up
to the sound
of engines from big diesel trucks
that carried people
in black
I was scared
so I crept
underneath my cot
the director
didn’t hear it
she was asleep
when the assassins
burst into her office
and threw everything
into bags
then,
she woke up
and one of them had
a gun
she was killed
her body left
to the mercy
of the last alive
counselors
the men
hopped onto their truck
and waved it
to speed away
but then,
one of the counselors
had hid a bomb
underneath his bed
and ran out
into the frosty night
in his pajamas
and threw the bomb
into the drivers cabin
direct hit
the glass shattered
and the bomb exploded
I will never forget
the sound
the screams
the death
of it all
the truck skidded to a halt
and crashed into an apartment
killing everybody who had just survived the bomb
including the counselor who had thrown it
that night
was almost as worse
as the tornado
that tore apart
my life
my family
my hope for a better life
my hope for a better family
and my heart
It still haunts my dreams at night
January 1, 2014
This new year,
I have a sense of adventure
I’ll leave all the misery
death
destruction
mentally and physically
behind
That doesn’t mean I let go
I’ll never be able to let go
and I doubt others will either
Five days from now
I will venture into alabama
in a jeep
to find what’s lost
my family
The camp hasn’t been any help
they tell me
things I already know
Like where they are
in Alabama
but today
they tell me something
I don’t know
they’ve found
where my family is
in Magnolia Springs
In a small house
on the Magnolia River
so today
I find myself
smushed in a small Jeep
driving five hundred four
miles
and seven hours
to my only hope
on Earth
the road there
is red and coppery
and bumpy
but quickly changes
to highway
I drive in the dark
alone
but this time
I’m not sad
I’m excited for what lays
in my future
for once in my life
I have
hope
I feel like
an eagle
stretching my wings
and soaring high
above the clouds
nothing can stop me now
February 2, 2014
Its pouring rain
when I drive into the pine forest
everything looks grey and gloomy
the rain
splatters the Jeeps sunroof
I’m lucky I have protection
Along the way here
I saw people living
in cardboard boxes
they dug out of the dumpster
The dead pine needles crunch under my tires
as I make my way
down the curvy road
I can barely see
fifteen feet
in front of me
The lights help
Mary, the camp manager
said
that my family
is staying
in a remote river cabin
off of the Magnolia River
This is the first time
I’ve seen my family
in eleven years
I can’t wait
My car tires screech
as I pull up to their house
It’s a cozy house
with white pillars
making up the frame
Windows line the whole house
but they are blocked
by red and white
dotted curtains
Their house
is two story
the second story
being inside the sloped roof
A stout chimney
pokes up from the roof
and I can’t help
but notice
that they have
a boat
when I lived with them
we couldn’t
afford a boat
I park the car
and cut the engine
I’m wondering
If I even want to see them now
do I?
I don’t know
I used to think I did
I used to think
the hurt would go away
If I was surrounded
by my family
Isn’t that the same for everyone?
I open the door
and jump out
not enthusiastically
I’m wondering
do I really want to see my family?
they left me
after that storm
and abandoned me
and left me to fend for myself
I slam the door
and walk to their front porch
the pine needles crunch under my feet
as they did my car
I knock on the door
and someone answers
Its a woman
shorter than me
and she has
steel glasses
that hang off her sharp nose
Her face
is wrinkled with age
she’s probably
in her early fifties
she purses her lips
and stares at me
like she’s trying to figure out
who is standing at her front door
I look at her
and say
“hello mother”
Tears well in my eyes
because the woman
doesn’t say anything
she just askes
me who I am
and what am I doing
calling her my mother
My hope is gone
and my heart
A middle aged man
walks up beside her
his face is also wrinkled
but not as much
as the womans
He stares at me
glaring daggers at me
his own daughter
who he doesn’t even know
then, he stabs me in my stomach
and swears at me
to never come on his property
ever again
I watch
as a little girl
sits up on the couch
to see what the commotion is
she has bright eyes
and a curious vibe
one that will never falter
ever
Then, she does something
that I never thought she’d do
she leaps up from the couch
and tells her parents
that I’m their daughter
I see their faces transform
from fierce hatred
to shock
they come after me
but I’m already pulling away from their house
in the black Jeep
dust waking in my path
I don’t want to be discovered
so I run away
by Weston B.