The Phone Call

Its my grandma's birthday today.

So I called her.

She didn't answer so I left a message.

"Hey grandma, it's Micaela, I'm just calling because it's you're birthday and I wanted to wish you a happy one! Also I wanted to see how grandpa's doing post surgery. I'm heading to class in a few minutes and I won't be home til seven so you can call me back after then. If I don't answer its because I'm on the phone with my momma, but I'll get back to you. Okay, happy birthday. Love you, bye!"

Five minutes later I get a text message.

"You have the wrong number."

OH THATS EMBARRASSING!

Dreams...

"... feel real while we're in them.

It's only when we wake up that

we realize something was actually strange."

I was at a "party" at a huge house with a bunch of people. Some of them I knew, but most of them were strangers to me. At this so called party, a man whose name I don't remember took it upon himself to teach us all how you should dance at a party. HE HAD A POWER POINT AND EVERYTHING FOR THIS LESSON! I don't remember much of the lesson, but I do remember him saying to disconnect your arms from your body and let them hang loose as if only skin is holding them there. (weird.) He also said that the key to better dancing is baggy clothing. He made us practice dancing and he came around and gave us pointers while we shook and slid around the room. Most people left at this point, including myself. I moved on to playing this game where you run around this maze and shoot people with a laser gun. I guess you could call this laser tag, except that it wasn't your typical laser tag game. We didn't have any lights strapped to us to shoot. Instead when you were shot you would die temporarily. When you woke up you were in a new spot and it was a new game. We played this quite a few times and as we played people came up with new tactics to beat me. (My game plan was to just run right up to people and shoot them before they could react.) They got pencils to stab me with when I would sneak attack. (I know this is morbid, but I have no control over what goes on while I sleep.) I quit playing after the first time I got stabbed because it hurt so bad!

The next thing I remember is dancing in the kitchen with a few other kids. A song came on that people who weren't dancing didn't like, but we turned it up because it wasn't up to them what we danced to.

After that, I was in my own house talking to my sister. She said she had something important to do. She said she had to go over to the Caron's house (they live right down the street from me) and warn Joe (my brothers best friend). It was eleven at night. There was no way I was letting her go now. But she said it was important that Joe wouldn't conform and turn his music down during the day. I didn't know why or even really care, so I just let her go. As I watched her walk away, she turned into a lion. After a few hours she still wasn't back. I checked the clock and it was four in the morning. I decided that I had to go get her. So I walked to the Caron's house and snuck in. I walked upstairs and what I found shocked me. My friend from Utah, who the Caron's don't know, was sleeping in their house. I woke him up to find out what he was doing there. He told me that he just got back from his mission and he was having trouble sleeping, so the Caron's took him in. But he said I shouldn't be there because Mrs. Caron had him on a strict sleeping pattern and if she found me, she would lock me away. I told him that I had to find my sister and he said that she was still talking to Joe and that I shouldn't worry. As I was about to leave, I heard Mrs. Caron coming. I jumped into the bathroom really quick and hid behind the door. But there was a trash back on the door handle that wouldn't stop moving. As Mrs. Caron explored the room, I knew she suspected something was wrong. So I came out of hiding and began to explain myself.

Then I felt the pain in my side return from when I was stabbed and it hurt so bad that it woke me up.

Rear view mirror.

I'm in a car packed with all of my lessons

learned and sentimental memories,

and I'm told that its time to leave.

But I'm not ready yet.

In the glove compartment are all of

my unanswered questions and a few regrets.

Still, I'm told I have to go.

Lock those away and forget them, I'm told.

Painfully I accept, and I lock the glove compartment.

Can't I have just one last hug?

How come I have to go so soon?

I'm told that it'll be better this way.

The door is closed without that hug.

I'm told to leave, but I don't want to lose sight.

I look back in the rear view mirror

hoping for a wave goodbye.

Instead, it turns out that I'm not the one leaving first.

I watch you walk away and turn the corner out of sight.

I sit for awhile hoping that its not really time yet.

But nothing ever changes.

I'm forgotten now.

So I guess its time for me to try to forget.

I tear off the rear view mirrors and begin to drive away.

I drive slow at first, but then my anger overcomes me and I speed up.

I roll down

the windows

and open the

glove compartment

to let my unanswered

questions fly away.

I just go on forever.

I can't see behind me anymore but I can still remember.

I'll never forget.

I'll never know that

you didn't leave completely.

You were hiding

behind the corner,

out of sight.

You'll never know that

there is still one unanswered

question that wouldn't fly away.

Why did you make me go?

Maybe someday you'll get in your car and try to catch up with me.

Two Years...

I miss a missionary.

He's only been out for three and a half months.

I'm so proud of him, and the work he's doing.

I know this is selfish of me, but I just wanna see him again now.

[Then I would send him back.]

But it doesn't work that way.