| What Would You Do? |
Wow...I know some of the stuff I've written is like ))) wow ((( but I think people need to hear it. At least, older peeps. =)Well, I've really got a lot of school work to do, so I'm saying goodbye to HSB for now. Maybe next summer I can pick it back up. I'm really sorry, but I've gotta do it. Alrighty, ~Courtney~ btw, some really cool blogs are maidenofvirtue gottalovebooks dressesfromthepast and that's all! 4:49 AM - Monday 26 October 2009 - comments {0} - post commenteyesshe woke up, and walked over to her dresser. she was dressed in short shorts, and a tank-top. she flopped her feet up on the dresser, and painted the nails black. she then painted her finger-nails black, and waited for both of them to dry. This took fifteen minutes. she pulled back her hair into a messy pony-tail, and clipped a few bobby-pins in place. this took fifteen minutes. she washed her face, and brushed her teeth. this took ten minutes. she applied HUGE amounts of foundation, makeup, and blush to her face, neck, and arms. she then put black mascara, eye-shadow, and whatever groosome glop on her eyes. she penciled a thin black line around her lips. this took twenty-four minutes. she put on lip-gloss. this took three long minutes. she opened her wardrobe, and looked at her closet for fifteen minutes. she grabbed a bunch of clothes and tried them on, throwing this on, taking it off, throwing that off, putting this on. this took a half-an-hour. then she picked some shoes. another fifteen minutes. then she gave her self a once-over in the mirror. then she went to school. and nobody noticed her. they all stayed away from her. the next day, she repeated all of those steps, times two. (real heavy on the make-up this time) and nobody notived her. they all stayed away from her. the next day, she woke up, washed her face, brushed her teeth, combed her hair, pulled it back, grabbed a skirt and matching skirt, some shoes, and headed out the door. this took thirty mintues all-together. everyone noticed her. they all wanted to be her friend. why?
5:47 PM - Saturday 3 October 2009 - comments {1} - post commentHelp the Little GuyI walked down the crowded hall to my homeroom. I was wearing an old Hollister t-shirt, skinny jeans and floppy sneakers. My best friend, Chad, was walking beside me, trying to impress me by showing my how big his arm fat was. It wasn't working. He has his usual clothes on: t-shirt, jeans, sneakers. As well as almost all of the normal kids waling down this hall-way did. Chad was spinning his football, talking about how cool it was that Jorgie Enington asked him out. I, on the other hand, thought that he should've gone to her and asked her out instead of her coming to him. Jorgie was a nice girl, always in style, and very smart. I tripped over something, and went down. All my books went flying, my papers, everything. Chad helped me up and started helping me gather my stuff, still ranting about Jorgie. Then, he pointed at my face and said, "Dude." I wiped my nose. Ugh. Blood. "Chad?" He already knew what I was thinking. He grabbed my backpack off my back, and walked it to my class while I walked into the girl's restroom. Some girls were huddled in a corner, smearing goop all over their faces, and giggling. another girl was trying to stuff something in her pocket without any-one noticing. I saw a shine. I turned on the water spout, pulled out a paper-towel, and started soothing my nose. The girls left. No-one was in the bathroom. I started humming When the saints come marching in... and then I heard a whimper. I swiveled around, looking where the sound came from. Nothing. I walked around, kicking the doors to all the stalls. Nothing. Hm. I started humming again. Man. I thought, this bleeding is actually getting worse, I think. Then I heard it again. A whimper. I sounded like it was coming from above. I looked up. Nothing. I walked over to the locked closet. "Hello? Is anybody in there?" I heard the whimper again, closer now. "Wow. Is somebody really in there?" A muffled, "Ehff!", which I took for 'yes'. "Okay," I said, "hold on. I'll get you out." I tried to open the door. Locked. Figures. I took out my hair clip and jammed it in the key-hole. It didn't work. I slid the clip up and down the crack of the door. Nothing. Finally, I kicked the handle off, and opened it. I gasped. There was just a bundle of garbage bags with a rope over it. I practically yelled, "Is someone in those bags?" No response. I lurched at them and yanked them down. They were heavy. Probably somewhere around 130 lbs. 20 more pounds than I weigh. I reached for my pocket knife, but remembered the janitor had taken it a few weeks ago. Drat. I pried the rope loose. Oh my goodness. I thought. A limp body of a bloody girl stared creepily at the ceiling. "Hey," I screamed loudly, "somebody help me!" I tried to check her pulse but what do I know about that? "HEY! HELP ME! HELP!" I ran to the door but it opened before me. A frilly girl took a look at the situation, and screamed, running in her high-heels. I stepped out into the hall. "HEY! I yelled. "Somebody help me! Some girl is dying in there!" I pointed to the bathroom. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" A dark-haired guy grabbed my shoulders. "What does she look like?" I answered, "She's wearing a dress." The buff guy shoved me out of the way, sending me tumbling to the floor. "Where is she?" I looked up at him, and felt blood trickling down my lip again. I pointed to the black garbage sack. "Over there." He offered me a hand, and we raced to the end of the bathroom where the sack/girl was. "God." He prayed, while trying to get her to breath. "GOD!! Help me now, Lord." Her eyes came into focus. "Delany?" He whispered. She rubbed her head, "Jo!" ----~---- Delany and Jo are brother and sister. They are Christian. This is not a Christian school. They are the reason I am Christian. Christianity is the reason Delany was in a trash bag, beat up, and bloody, almost suffocating, and tied up. A satanist did it to her. Because she tried friendly preaching to his tiny brain, and he didn't like it. ----~---- Everyone: this happens regularly in big, bad city's. If you ever see someone in need of help, for goodness sake, help them. They might be your lead to a better life... like me. Now I'm wearing? An old plain t-shirt, socks, and a jean skirt. My hair is longer, and my heart is better. Praise the Lord! 3:11 AM - Thursday 1 October 2009 - comments {1} - post commentLook Through my EyesAVRIL LAVIGNE - LOSING GRIP Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby?
JORDIN SPARKS - BATTLEFIELD Don't try to explain your mind 1:55 AM - Monday 28 September 2009 - comments {2} - post commentThe BridgeI found this journal entry written by a guy... isn't that interesting? It was from the 80's, and this guy was somewhere around twenty years old, because when he started writing in this journal, he wrote, "I am fifteen." Well, that was in '78, and then the last entry he wrote was in '84. I left the mispellings (as always.) Read on... "Wow. I haven't written in you forever. Well, it's August 14th, 1984. This year has been horrible. Kate and I broke up, and Tracy went with Kate, and Travis went with me. He's four now. That mistake I thought I made? Was pretty cool. He has blonde hair, and brown eyes. Anyway, I'm writing to say that whenever whoever finds this, I'm in Hell. I can't stand being torchered by Travis's smile evry day of my life. Other anoying things: I lost my job at the hotel, Macie (my iguana) died, and Travis burt his self. So, I can't stand it anymore. I'm done. Tonight, after midnight, I'm gonna drop Travis off in Kate's yard, and go have fun with that bridge. The big one near Shoony? It's high enough, I think. Well, better go. Won't see you later." Isn't that horrible? Lots of people deal with depression. I left out some parts he wrote about when he was sixteen, but I think you get the just. It's horrible. Terrible. Commiting suicide is murder to self. It's the greatest sin. Don't ever ever ever do it. You can never come back. Never give up on hope, don't even think about turning your back. And I thought I'd better clarify something: I am against slaves. =) ~Courtney~ 2:03 PM - Friday 25 September 2009 - comments {4} - post commentBeer or Police?Hi! I'm new, and I'm Courtney. I hope you like my blog! (I'm 16 years old, and love watching my big brother play football!) Okay. To the real stuff. I collect diary's from the Goodwill and stuff, and I found one with this entry:
"...There were Playboy magazines all over the place, some of them open, some of them not. I tried desperately to find a safe place to put my eyes, where I would not feel guilty looking. I finally found a place – my toes. I had on a black silk/sparkly dress, with a cute black sweater and high-heels. Something nudged my stomach. “Hey,” It was Jenna’s big brother, “want a drink?” I grinded my teeth together. This party wasn’t going a great as I thought it would. “Uh,” I looked him straight in the eyes, “Sure. Nothing hard, though.” I watched him grab a beer from the ice box. Great. I thought. He handed it to me. “Hey, you okay?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine, thanks. But I’m not over twenty-one.” He laughed, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Loosen up, okay? Nobody here is. And guess what?” I gave him an ‘I have no idea’ look. “Nobody’s ever gonna know, either, right?” I popped the beer can, wondering how many months of allowance my parents would deduct if they only knew what I was doing. “Right.” I answered. He walked off to a gorgeous girl in a shrinking dress. Now I girl had three choices. 1) Walk home, after all, it was only about thirty blocks to my house. 2) Drink the beer and get drunk, (then get killed like four other young people did on the way home, driving drunk, and with out licenses, just thought I’d add that.) 3) Call somebody, even if it’s the police, just somebody, to come pick me up. I fortunately did the third." I'm so glad that this girl chose the third! Were you ever in a situation like this? What did you do? How could you have done better? You too had those three choices. Just make sure when you are invited to a party, that the house is equipped of these two things: 1) Godly parental authority, 2) A phone. And if it doesn’t have Godly parental authority, then it most-the-time doesn’t even matter. Make sure that you are around the right crowds. If you are around the right people, they won’t ask you to drink beer; although if you are around satanic people, they might just ask you to kill a rat and hang it in your best friend’s locker. Well, that’s a whole different story, and I have to go, so have a nice day, and try not to fit in with bad crowds!
~Courney~ 11:52 AM - Thursday 24 September 2009 - comments {1} - post comment |
Description Ok. Let's get some things straight. I went to public school, I know how it is. I also did some pretty bad stuff, I know how that is, and (one more thing) Please, read and comment, so I know that you're really reading. Home User Profile Archives Recent Entries - Wow... - eyes - Help the Little Guy - Look Through my Eyes - The Bridge |