Journal 5

     Having to get out of bed and walk into the kitchen to answer the phone at midnight is not my idea of fun, especially when I have to get up at six. Irritated I answered the phone and a man says in a stern voice “Is this Catherine Smith?”

     “Yes,” I said more wide awake.

     “This is police Officer Carter and I am very sorry Ms. Smith, but your boyfriend was in a car accident. A drunk driver crossed the yellow lines and hit his car head on. He is on his way to Green Valley General Hospital because he received some major injuries. When the paramedics saw the condition he was in they said they weren’t sure if he would last till morning. Would you like me to send a police officer to your place so you can arrive to the hospital safely?”

“Yes. I will be ready in five minutes and my address is 4357 Kings Lane,” I respond with tears starting to fill my eyes.

“Okay, Officer Johnson is on his way to your house now,” replied Officer Carter. Itoss the phone on the counter, quickly put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and throw my hair into a ponytail. By the time I grab my purse there is a knock on the door. I answer the door and see Officer Johnson standing there. We run to the car, jump in, and Officer Johnson takes off down the road like a
racehorse coming out of the gate. We reach the hospital in record time because
he turned the sirens on, but I still hop out of the car before Officer Johnson
has a chance to place it in park. and I run through the doors to the ER, tears
still streaming down my face.

A nurse comes from behind the counter, slips her arm around me, and asks in a soothing voice “What can I do for you, honey?”

“My boyfriend, Alex Brown, got in a car accident and I need to see him,” I say
while trying to not choke on my tears.

“Okay, he just arrived and is in room 104. Let me walk with you there.” I run to room 104, while the nurse and the Officer Johnson try to catch up with me. And then I saw him: eyes closed, his body was bruised and cut, and he was wearing white gauze wrapped around his head. I walked into the room, took his hand and gently placed it in mine. I rubbed it with my fingers, praying to God that he will not die. After a few minutes, Alex opened his eyes. A small smile comes to my face and glimmer of hope is lit inside of me.

He stared directly into my eyes and said “I will love you forever, Catherine.” His eyes then slowly slid shut; my glimmer of hope became snuffed out like a candle because what I had dreaded had come true. Alex was gone.

Journal 2

Prompt: Trapped in an elevator, alone, with a person you would walk across the street to avoid. Write a narrative dialogue.

Normally I don’t take elevators because I hate it when they bounce before reaching their destination. But, since I am going to the 19^thfloor, I will take one. My hand trembling, I call the elevator down to the ground floor and anxiously wait for it. The golden doors open wide and I step inside wishing that the doors wouldn’t take so long to close. When they’re finally closing, a purse stops the action. Why is it so important for this person to get on this elevator?!? Once the person steps on the elevator and I meet their eyes, I realize why.

“Elizabeth,” the woman pushes the button for the 21^thfloor and looks at me with that fake twinkle in her eyes.

“Aly,” I say with as much excitement as a person can have when they learn they have to clean the bathroom. 

“It has been a long time since I have seen you. Why didn’t we stay in touch with each other through college?” The doors begin to close again and I sigh, with relief knowing that we will be moving and with trepidation because it’s going to be a long journey up with Miss Princess.

“Yeah, it has been a long time. I guess we were both really busy.” I state matter-of-factly and truth be told I was pretty busy during college. But man, I would have really liked to tell her that she made the last few months of my senior year of high school miserable. Instead, I wised up and decided she wasn’t worth the effort.

“That’s true, I was super busy! School and social life took up a lot of my time. How did school turn out for you?”

“It went well. I had a great time, but I’m still on the hunt for a job.” I hate it when people ask me that because I want to be able to say that I am now working. I look up to check our upward progress and realize we’re only at the 10^thfloor.

“You know what, let me do you a favor because I have a job at this great middle school and I know some English teachers who will be retiring in the spring. Maybe I can put in a good word for you?”

“You want to do me a favor–after the way you treated me in high school!”

“What did I do?” Aly asks, looking like the sweet, innocent girl she was so good at portraying.  I look up at the floor numbers and realize we are still at the 10^thfloor.

“You have got to be kidding me!” I yell, specifically at the elevator.

“What? Tell me what I did because I honestly don’t know.”

“Wait, did you just say you don’t know what you did to me?! Let me tell you, a few months before prom I emailed the whole group saying we should get together beforehand. You said it would be a great idea and then when it was time to commit to plans, you announced you already had other plans, which you made before my email. It really didn’t bother me that you had plans, but the thing that annoyed me the most was the fact that you couldn’t tell me the truth when you had made them!” DING! “Well, would you look at that – perfect timing – I have reached my destination and I have let you know what has been bothering me all these years!” I step off the elevator, turn around, and slowly watch the doors shut on Aly’s bewildered face. 

Journal 1

Prompt: Time to rant, rave, and foam at the mouth: the piece of mind you would like to give that old so-and-so.

     When I am home on Christmas break and over the summer I work at an ice cream shop. It is an extremely fun job, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes the customers can get on my last nerve. I come home and tell my parents stories about customers and they say “This is why you are going to college”. I now know that I could never work full time in retail! 
     I get some really dumb questions from customers. One of my favorites usually happens when I go in at 9:00 AM to open. I usually get the call from the customer about whether we are open or not. The conversation usually goes like this:
Me: “Hello, Hoffman’s. How can I help you?”
Customer: “Hi, I was just calling to see if you were open.”
Me: “Yes we are.” [No, I was standing outside in the parking lot, heard the phone ring, broke the window, climbed through, and answered the phone just to tell you that they were closed.]
Customer: “Well, thank you. Bye.”
Me: “You’re welcome and have a good day!”
Sometimes I just wish people would think before they spoke or asked another question so they seemed intelligent. Along with asking if we were open, they could ask “Do you have pumpkin ice cream yet?” because then they would be acting like they wanted to know some other information besides our hours.
     Another thing customers do that annoys me is that they think we can read their minds. I wish I could be that good, but I am not. Sorry! If a customer orders a milkshake, we will make it with vanilla ice cream unless they tell us otherwise. People usually tell me when they want something other than vanilla ice cream, but I am not sure what it is about strawberry milkshakes, because people do not speak up! When I first started working there a customer would order a strawberry milkshake and I would add the strawberry syrup, milk, and vanilla ice cream to the cup. After mixing it, I would hand it back to them, ask if they wanted anything else, and they would turn to me and say “Is this made with strawberry ice cream?” Politely, I would say “No” and they, acting shocked that I didn’t know that they actually wanted it made with strawberry ice cream, would ask for it that way. Being as polite as I could be, I would take it back, putting it in the freezer. Then I would make the infamous milkshake that they had always wanted and had not informed me about. Now after working there for three years, I know that when somebody wants a strawberry milkshake, I should ask: “Do you want it made with strawberry ice cream, vanilla ice cream with strawberry syrup, or strawberry ice cream with strawberry syrup?” and the correct milkshake always gets made.
     Sometimes I wish I did not have to deal with these and many other oblivious customers, but I have learned many things from them. They have helped me learn patience, politeness, and how people in retail feel. Now when I go into stores, I am nice to clerks, having been in their position. Also they have supplied me with a topic for my journal and I always have funny stories to tell to people about work!

By: Elizabeth Harvey

I know people want to cuddle with me,
but really I am
not that lovable.
I am an evil,
devious,
stealing bear.
That will bite your head off
if you try to give me honey!

By Elizabeth Harvey

 
Grammy and my mom sitting in her living room around the fake Christmas tree
watching me toddle my way across the room
step
by
step.
They -
talking in words I did not yet understand,
me -
dressed in light pink overalls and a white ruffle top underneath
staring up at Grammy’s fake Christmas tree
admiring the variety of wooden ornaments from afar.
A red toy soldier,
one of the three kings dressed in a green robe,
Santa Claus with a pack full of presents,
and a snowman who looked like Frosty.
All hand crafted by my Grandfather, long gone.

 
Later they set out a plate full of sugar cookies.
Me who had inherited the family gene for a love of cookies wanders over.
Grammy picks me up with her soft but old hands,
sits me in her lap,
and looks at me as
I look up at her white puffy hair
that is always stiff with hairspray.
She decides to feed me sugar cookies
so she picks up a Santa Claus shaped cookie and breaks
it apart into small pieces so I am able to eat it.
She brings the cookie near my mouth and
when her hand gets closer I open wide.
I eat that thin,
crispy,
crunchy,
colorful,
sweet deliciousness of a cookie.
As soon as I swallow my eyes light up because
I have just discovered the best cookie on earth.
I immediately want more so
I open my mouth repeatedly and
each time Grammy feeds me.

 
Every year since then my family has baked sugar cookies for Christmas
and I remember Grammy.
Grammy introduced me to the world of sugar cookies.
But even when she became hard of hearing,
her mind began to wander off and
she did not act like my Grammy, but
I loved her still the same
because
I always remembered how she fed me my first sugar,
taught me how to roll the cookie dough and
how to place the cookie cutters on the dough when we all baked sugar cookies together.     

By Elizabeth Harvey