The writings of my writers- Stories/songs/poems by the kids Feed

“One way ticket home”

    Chris wrote this while at UNLV. It was another one of our video chat projects. He wrote it and I helped with the editing. The amazing part is he got all the facts and background on his own. I wish I was that focused at his age!

For your approval,


Ordinary Wmn

My site was nominated for The Blogitzer!

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The wind is all I hear as my eyes are closed and my heart is pounding like a sledge hammer in my chest. The engines of the plane don't even seem to be making a sound; I just focus on the wind; that and the Saint Michael's medallion that is in my hand. I recite that all too familiar prayer in my head.

"O St. Michael, give me strength to defeat my fear and rise up to this challenge."

Then, suddenly the words I dreaded to hear come from the left of me.

"Thirty seconds!" He shouts out.

I gulp and open my eyes to see my good friend sitting across from me. He has a calm look on his face, but his leg is moving faster than a jack-rabbit making love!

We all stand up almost in unison. Suddenly the wind is gone as I look out the window and see the bright flashes in the sky. I kiss Saint Michael and place him in my front pocket. I grasp my M1 Gerund close to my chest; I start to recite the motto in my head, which is just as familiar as my St. Michael.

    "This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is MINE! My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My rifle without me is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will... My rifle and myself know that what counts in war are not the rounds we fire, the noise of our bursts, nor the smoke we make. We know it is the hits that count. We will hit... My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories, its sights, and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will... Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but PEACE!"

    As I say the last words in my head, my C.O. is at three in the count. He hits one and the "go, go, go's" follow. Three men are in front of me; Davis, Jones, and Ryan.

Ryan jumps, just two more now. Jones yells something I can't quite make out as he jumps. One more, okay it's almost tee time. Davis goes; all right you ready, I ask myself. I jump. The wind is cold as it hits my face, and the rain feels like little needles tearing at my flesh. I see what seem like laser beams flashing by me from the gun turrets below. Yup, this is what I signed up for, no guts no glory!

I pull my cord and I know this is the worst part. I am now a sitting duck for the Germans below to get me.

All of a sudden I start falling a lot faster, a lot faster than I should. Damn it they hit my chute! I frantically look down and see a barn roof right before the tree branch blinds me; I jolt violently and so suddenly that my rifle get ripped out of my arms. This can't be good, but damn I'm lucky; as I look up I see that my chute has gotten caught in the bigger branches of the tree. I know that if it weren't for the adrenaline my whole body would be screaming pain right now. No guts, no glory! I quietly start looking for my knife when I hear the most unwelcoming sound, German.

    I turn my head to see a German soldier pointing his rifle at me. I just stare right back at him. I lock on his eyes so he knows I don't fear death, or him. He mutters something and I see the muzzle flash. They say time stops when you die and I can testify that this is true. The silhouette of the soldier is eerily still. The flash of his muzzle is very clear, but silent. Suddenly the night sky clears and luminescent light begins to fill the air. I see wings off in the distance, coming from where the light originated. This is it. My Old friend St. Mike himself! I smile. But just as quickly the light sucks back over the hills and St. Mike, wings and all, go with it. I hear a voice.

"Hey, are you alright? Hey, Captain he's coming to." The voice gets louder.

I open my eyes. I'm on my back and everything is blurry at first. Slowly it starts to get clearer. I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. You have got to be kidding me! He shot me in the shoulder; I must have passed out after he hit me. The American soldier standing over me helps me up and moves me to a wall. He whispers to me how lucky I am and that I'm getting a purple heart and probably a one-way ticket home. I softly smile and laugh. I guess I deserve it. How many people can say they looked death in the eye and didn't feel any fear? How many can say they welcomed their fate with open arms. Not many that's for sure. But one thing was for sure, it was nice to have Old St. Mike on our side.


The Date

This showcases the softer side of my son Chris' writing. I particularly love the way he describes the deep feeling associated with that first love!

Ordinary Wmn

My site was nominated for The Blogitzer!

My site was nominated for Best Blog About Stuff!

"The Date"

    It's cold outside and the snow's shimmering luster seems hypnotic. If you stared too long you feel like you will be lulled to sleep, safely and cozy, without a care in the world. I take a deep breath of cold winter air and my senses come to life. I look up to see her as she walks down the path dressed up just for me. That deep breath I was taking suddenly gets taken away as I am taken back by her beauty. I hold the door open and can't help but softly smile as she enters the car. She kisses me on the cheek and my smile grows wider instantly.

"Where to,"? She asks.

I tell her it's a surprise and not to worry. I begin to drive down the road and she starts to beg me.

"Please tell me!" She pleads with her cute voice and angel smile, the kind that a hardened, convicted criminal could fall for. I stay strong, because I don't want to ruin the surprise. I ignore her attempts to pry the secret from me.

    I take a turn and we pull up to my house. She gives me a look as her eyes light up, a look that says, I think I know. I get out of the car and walk around to open her door. My mother has taught me well. I gently grab her hand and lead her up the deck stairs and to the back door. I unlock it with my key and we enter through my kitchen. No one is home and I have her sit at the dining room table.

We flip through old picture books of when I was young. I color slightly as she stops at the photographs every kid wishes their parent had never taken. She coos about how cute and adorable I was. Maybe those pictures weren't so bad after all.

I go into the kitchen and get the meal that I have cooked. I made sure I got the recipe from my mom. I go back into the dining room and serve her the plate of her choice, Chicken Parmesan.

"Oh, it's my favorite! How did you know?"

I give her a small smile and sit down. We talk as we sit down to eat the meal. I quickly learn how heavy a pasta meal can be. We both don't finish our plates. I gathered the dishes and refuse her offer to help. Tonight you are the guest, I say.

After I put the things away, I turn to her and say that it is now time for the surprise! Her face lights up and she gives me that angel smile again. I grab her hand and lead her up the stairs towards the attic. When we get there I tell her to wait a sec. I grab the two blankets I have set aside and I open the window to the roof. I lay them down on the roof that over hangs the second floor. I turn around and beckon for her to come towards me. I help her onto the roof, and we lay on the covers I have put out.

Now, you may think, what is so special about this? Well, you see, this here roof is my roof. My place of solitude and I never bring just anyone up here. This is my special place that I only share with very few special people. She is one of them.

    We take in the sights of the neighborhood I live in. In the darkness the twinkling of the tiny far way lights seem like stars around us. We watch the snow flakes gently fall on us. Strangely enough my body is unaware of the winter chill in the air. I slowly look into her eyes and I get this feeling.

This feeling of total comfort comes over me, a feeling of trust. This consuming feeling, that if I were to die, at this moment, it would not be a wasted life. I gently kiss her lips and my chest begins to pound!

I have found it! I have found what most people who have lived four times longer than I, have never found.

I have found true love!


Mister Smith’s Wife

My son Chris is a freshman at UNLV majoring in "Film". He plans on becoming a screen writer and director after he graduates. Chris has been writing screen plays since he was thirteen. He has a dark visual and literary flare to some of his work. He likes to express the darker side of human nature and focus at times on the inner workings of the psyche. Chris is multi-faceted as you will see by the wide array of styles and topics covered in his writings. From tortured souls to the discovery of first love, he explores every facet of human emotions and inner conflict. Although some of his work is raw at times, I have a deep feeling that he is going to be quite successful in his trade.  


Ordinary Wmn  

For your pondering;  





"Mister Smith's Wife"

            The sunbeams shining through the cracks of the shutters woke me as they hit my face. I could already hear the children boarding the school bus at the corner of the street.

I got up and went to the bathroom, turned the faucets on so the water wasn't too hot or too cold, just right. As the sink filled up, I stared into the mirror in front of me wondering, who I was staring at? This wasn't the same man that I remember. The man I remembered had joy in his life, he could also feel. Feel inside, whether they be good or bad feelings. When the sink was full, I dipped my hands in and splashed my face. Oh, how refreshing it was!  I went back into my bedroom and began to get dressed.  I put on my faded jeans, an old band shirt, and of course my favorite pair of Adidas. I lit up a cigarette as I tied my sneakers, took a long drag and blew the smoke out.  I watched as the smoke twirled upward towards my ceiling, slowly disappearing into the air.

I get up and go into my kitchen rummaging through the fridge to see if anything would catch my interests, but nothing. I walked from my kitchen to my office and sat down. I took the final drag of my cigarette and put it in the ashtray. When did the ashtray get so full? I turned on my computer and as it finishes loading I go straight to my iTunes. I hit play. "You don't know what love is", by the White Stripes immediately started coming out of the speakers.

I laughed at the irony, and got up and made my way to the small window. I slowly pulled back the dingy white curtain. Were they white?  I look as the people below go about their day. The old women going for their walks, as the workout junkies ran by. Of course the new mothers walking off those few extra pounds, while their new bundles of joy were in the carriages in front of them. My mind began to wander; I could have stood there for hours, if the ringing of my cell phone didn't break my concentration.
            I answered it, was my new client, Mr. Smith. Not too many things scare me in this life but Mr. Smith has this aura about him that would make a Marine Corps drill sergeant shiver. He gave me my instructions, they were very specific, I was to find out whether or not his wife was cheating on him, and if so who was the man.  I've done many cases like this but this one somehow didn't seem right. Mr. Smith was a wealthy man and he offered double the usual rate so how could I turn him down?  I did the usual, "yes; I'll do my best" and hung up.

    After I got off the phone with Mr. Smith I went to my closet and started to gather my gear. I got my camera, with an extended lens, so I can zoom in on the action from a safe distance. My laptop so I can upload right on the spot, and lastly my colt .45 hand gun.  I've never needed the gun but as I said, something didn't feel right. I checked it, cleaned it, and loaded it. I then put all my supplies in my gear bag and headed towards the door. I grabbed my hoody off the hook and went out to start my day.

    I entered my car, another prized possession of mine. Dodge Charger, vintage of course, I started the engine and the nice rumble lifted my spirits a bit. I looked into the rear view mirror to stare at the man that I no longer knew. I sighed at this feeling, the reason being a mystery to you and me. I went on with my task at hand.

    When I arrived at the house of Mr. Smith I parked across the street, so not to be seen by him or his wife. I saw him leave and get into his very nice BMW and drive off. I waited for the Missus; she did not take too long. She came out shortly afterwards; dressed very nicely I might add. I took this moment to snap some pictures. As she got into her vehicle, a Lexus, I couldn't help but notice she had a bag with her. She started off and I set after her, keeping my distance, so not to raise suspicion.

            She stopped at a Starbucks and picked up a latte, a daily ritual from what I conceived of the matter. She then went to a motel, and parked in the rear. This was the jackpot! It usually took days before I saw action. She walked up to room 242, and I took pictures of her entering. I also got a shot of the man who greeted her with a very, none friendly, curt, kiss on the lips. He had sunglasses on and a hat. Weird, did he suspect he was being watched? I waited for the door to close and got out of my car and headed up to the room. As I walked by, I could hear the moans of Mrs. Smith, so objective one was set. Now, to figure out whom the man was. I walked back down to my car and waited.

            After what seem like an eternity, but actually was a little over 2 hours, Mrs. Smith emerged from the room. I took photos again, she walked down to her car and left. The man however just went back into the room after she kissed him farewell. I waited some more, after another hour of sitting around, he came out the room. He went to the front office, and returned the key. He went to his car, a Mercedes Benz, he started off and I set chase.

            I tailed him all the way across town where he pulled into an upscale house, 242 Victor Lane. Objective two complete.  I got out of the car, after I parked out of sight again, and walked up to an elderly lady watering her garden.  I asked her if 242 was the home of John Mayer, she replied with exactly what I wanted.
    "Why no, dear, this is the home of James Lewis".
     Bingo, I had my man and, I was now four digits richer. I proceeded home. 

When I walked into my house the song "Lonely, Lonely", was playing by Fiest, another ironic moment I believe. I called Mr. Smith and gave him the information I had just gathered. He told me he was thrilled. That seemed odd and I didn't know why at first. It all became very clear as he went on to say that he finally had a reason to kill that two timing bitch. This sent a shiver down my spine. What he said next is what snapped me back into reality. He asked me to kill her and her lover. He would pay me, a lot more, of course. He also went on to say that since he was very politically connected, if anything went wrong, he could help me. I laughed at him.

That was right before I accepted his offer. I don't know why, the words, "yes I'll do it" just flowed out, very naturally. He said thank you, and that I should do it tomorrow. He would be away on business. The timing would be perfect.

I hung up the phone and went to my bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror, and then it all made sense to me. I knew why I was feeling so awkward, disconnected. It was the lack of excitement in my life! The main reason I had entered this line of work was for the rush, the adrenaline high during a high-octane job. A smile slowly crept across my face and in an instant the old me came screaming back. "Hello stranger, haven't seen you in a while! Man I've missed you!" I thought to myself.

I started the shower, and climbed in, visualizing how I was going to make this all go down?
            I awoke the next day to the sun greeting me, and the usual sounds of the children. I knew this was my day. The day I became the man I always wanted to be. I grabbed my clothes and got dressed. I lit up my morning cigarette and went to my closet. I grabbed my colt .45 and a pair of gloves. I grabbed a ski mask from my winter clothing box. 

I brought out my "just in case" box. Hello old friend, haven't seen you in a while!  This box had many illegal weapons, collected over the years from various sources. The one prized goodie I had always wanted to use was the silencer. I bought it off the Internet for a measly 5 dollars. The E-bay nerd thought it was a toy. Who was I to tell him otherwise?

    I got into my car and went to the home of Mr. Smith. He was just leaving as I arrived. Yes my timing was right on! Mrs. Smith gave him a kiss goodbye, and she turned and went back inside. As Mr. Smith pulled down the street, I saw a very familiar car. It was the Mercedes-Benz of one, James Lewis. He parked right in the driveway and entered the unlocked front door.
            It was time for me to make my move. I gathered my supplies and made my way to the backyard.  I went to the back door and it was unlocked. Yeah, I am on a roll now!

I put on my mask and gloves. As I crept through the house, I screwed the silencer to the handgun. I made my way up the stairs, my heart was racing! I could feel the sweat collecting on the mask.

The sounds of Mrs. Smith were echoing through the hallway, they were coming from the master bedroom. As I approached, her moans became unbearable! I felt like Mr. Smith. They hurt me just as much as if I were him. More I think, because I was consumed by a feeling of betrayal. I used this to fuel me. I kicked the door open and the scream she let out filled the air. I pulled the trigger twice.

As I watched the life leave their eyes, I felt it! The feeling only murderers feel. It was a rush of overwhelming, kinetic-like energy! I felt a feeling of God-like power, the power to end the very essence of existence, of life.

I slowly walked over to the pants of Mr. Lewis and took the keys; I also helped myself to the money in his wallet, he wasn't going to need it where he was going. I proceeded down the hallway knocking down pictures and taking what little things I felt were of enough value to justify the gory scene in the bedroom.      

I walked out the front door, after I removed the mask and placed it with the gun back into my bag. I walked to James' vehicle, got inside. I backed out and drove away. I would wait until dark to double back and pick up my old car. I was feeling generous maybe I would donate it to charity. I looked in the rearview mirror and for the first time in years I actually saw a familiar face. Welcome back, I smiled.

            When I got home that night I felt amazing! I now had a small fortune and was ready to move. I grabbed my laptop and all the things I needed for my new business venture. I set back out and loaded everything into my car. I went back into the apartment and gave it one last look around. I smiled at the fact that this would be the last time I would see it. No more old ladies, no more runners, no more baby pushers. Somehow I wasn't too broken up over it. I locked the door behind me as I left. I went into my car, sat down and looked into the mirror again.
            So, this is where I am right now. What to do? Travel, Paris, Rome, maybe invest or jet set? I don't know. So what do you say, stranger, as I looked in the mirror once more. I'll let you decide. What happens next, where do I go from here? The possibilities are endless. I'm not afraid anymore.  Bring it on! I am back and I'm ready.


Back to the wall.

My son Eric wrote this to highlight what he feels is a father's unconditional love for his son. And the frustration he feels when one of the richest nations in the world still has millions of people without medical coverage.

Even though some people might only focus on the graphic description of the gun battles with the "cops". He wrote it metaphorically. The cops represent the powers that be that are more focused on making a profit than saving a life.

This coming from a young man, who has seen firsthand how low income people, that are not poverty level, but still low income, cannot get proper medical care.

I hope you can get the amazing message between the lines of his rhymes.


Ordinary WMN


I left it as written, no editing here!

By Eric-AKA Sacrafyc, 10/04

I wake up to my child crying, I can hear him GASPING TO BREATHE/
a bad case of asthma that's abnormal PLEASE I ASK HIM TO BREATHE/
now he's GAGGING TO BREATHE start to panic and I ASK HIM TO "PLEASE/
calm down get strong now grab this BAG AND JUST BREATHE"/
we on the way to the E.R doing a HUNDRED ON THE DASH/
PUMPING ON THE GAS windows fogging I'm not stopping so I'm THUMPING ON THE GLASS/

I look at my son he's turning blue but still FORCES A SMILE/
just a FOURTH OF A MILE till we there "c'mon baby just FORCE IT AWHILE"/
I pull up to the hospital and almost hit some doctors on a PARK BENCH/
grab my son jump out the car before the car's even PARKED YET/
get him into the E.R, to the operating TABLE, THE Mission/
2 hours pass they come out telling me for now he's in STABLE CONDITION/
but his lungs are no good and he needs a special type of MEDICINE/
it comes in a spray and its BETTER THEN anything the MEDS"LL BRING/
the only problem is it won't be covered by my INSURANCE PLAN/
its an INSURANCE SCAM, so I pull out the heater and tell him this is my INSURANCE FAM/

I put the gun to the dr.'s head and tell him "look doc I'm not TRYING TO PLAY/
so tell me where the medicine is cause my sons not DYING TODAY"/
he starts TRYING TO PREY so I put the NINE TO HIS FACE/
and he blurts out "it's in the lab about NINE MILES AWAY/
I throw the doctor to the floor kiss my son and FLEE THE SCENE/
I don't care how many I have to kill tonite my son is BREATHING CLEAN/
stop at my house to grab every gun and bullet I FOUND/
at the same time the doctors calling every law enforcement in TOWN/
I'm scared to death I'm gonna die but for my sons it's the TRUTH/
I'll SHOOT anything moving then make my escape from the ROOF/
I enter the lab grab the spray then I head for the DOOR/
that's when I hear "don't move mother****er and get down on the FLOOR/......

the buildings surrounded and they STORMING THE GATES/
I got handguns , , a Mossberg and A STORM IN MY WAIST
I pull the gun from the holster and drop the first 30 I SEE/
I fight dirty double fisted birdies they ain't WORTHY TO ME/
I'm like neo in the matrix running up walls to DODGE BULLETS/
and LODGE BULLETS in the forehead of feds they dead when I PULL IT/
I see the shells in slow motion it's like I'm STOPPING THE TIME/
do a flip over 2 agents I'm aiming and put the GLOC TO THEY SPINES/
kick another in the jaw judo flip and I'm SNAPPING HIS NECK/
reach in my waist and pull the niner and BLAST WHAT IS LEFT/
spiral out his back into his partner make them both CRASH THRU A DESK/

I toss aside the nine and start street SWEEPING THE AIR/
caught 2 cops in the chest and they flew back about 6 FEET IN THE AIR/
try to make an escape I doubt that I'm even REACHING THE STAIRS/
start spraying at will and slid across the room using the SEAT OF A CHAIR/
I'm BLAZING AT COPPERs racing toward the sounds of the BLADES OF THE CHOPPER/
SPRAYING IT PROPER screaming "see u in hell ain't no SAVING THEM DOCTOR"

but when I get to the roof the HELICOPTER IS GONE/
I'm left stranded with these coppers with my CHOPPER AND BOMBS/
I put the lock on the door it should buy me a MOMENT OR TWO/
but once they thru, they blazing without aiming and this MOMENT IS THRU/
"u know what **** it" I killed half of them might as well BLAST AT THEM ALL/
so I reload my last clips and put my BACK TO THE WALL

I got my back to the wall mp-5 cocked and POINTED IN POSITION/
the door gets knocked off the hinges I start SQUEEZING OFF SOME ROUNDS/
first cops get dropped the next 2 are BLEEDING ON THE GROUND/
my heart beating too speedy control my BREATHING WITH THE SOUND/
believe me I'm not dreaming they all SCREAMING "GET ON THE GROUND"/

the situation is getting crazy and I'm RUNNING OUT OF SPACE/
drop the mp and start RUNNING with a HUNDRED GIVEN CHASE/
jumped and spun around and hit another in the STOMACH AND THE FACE/
squat behind a air duct "****, I think I'm DONE AND ITS A WASTE"/
take the grenade from my belt, pull the pin I smell DYING IN THE AIR/
3 seconds later a boom and 6 pigs FLYING THRU THE AIR/

in the same second of time I jumped up DUMPING THE SHELLS/
I'm dying tonite mother ****as we all BUNCHING TO HELL/
**** a cop or a swat I'm bringing DOOM TO THESE FEDS/
put 2 IN THEY HEADS while I got hit in my knee **** WOUNDED MY LEG/
covered in blood and gun smoke inside I'm TRYING FOR THE TRUTH
not to mention I'm bleeding out I think I'm DYING ON THIS ROOF/

the cops start making their move I'm too weak to even RAISE MY GUN/
I just LAID THERE DONE the head cop looks at me and SAYS YOU IDIOT THEY WON/
as they search me they find 2 empty nines and a medical SPRAY MARKED-FOR LUNGS/

he asks me what is this spray for? And I just say,

"To SAVE MY SON........"

My site was nominated for The Blogitzer!

My site was nominated for Best Blog About Stuff!