I was tired, very tired. It had been a long day and I just wanted to close my eyes and rest. I knew I shouldn’t, the kids still needed to be bathed and dishes had to be washed, but I only wanted 5 minutes to myself. After checking and seeing the kids watching their favorite television show, I went to the kitchen to get a cup of hot tea. All I needed was that glorious 5 minutes, to relax, sip my tea and rest my eyes.

Sitting in my favorite wing chair in the living room, I curled up with my feet tucked under me, and sipped my tea while looking at the falling snow outside the large window in the living room. It was warm in here, the fire crackling and making the evening light dance shadows around the room, but I knew it was cold outside. That was as it should be. Christmas was two days away and it was going to be nice to wake up to a world in which everything was white. As long as I knew I could stay indoors, I could only think to myself, let it snow.
I awoke with a start, realizing I must have dozed off. I actually felt refreshed, even though not much time could have passed. The dusk was no deeper than when I closed my eyes but, amazingly, I had had a dream.

In it, Santa walked through the living room door, came over to me and got down on his knees. He slowly removed both my shoes and began massaging my feet with his firm strong hands. Oh it was wonderful what he did with his magic fingers. I suddenly felt the energy in my body, I felt like dancing. When he was done he lifted his face to mine and kissed me lightly on the cheek, stood up before me and walked away. Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made, but the impression was clear.

Suddenly my daughter Jen came into the room. Smiling, she came over and sat on my lap. She looked up at me with those big green eyes and asked what I was doing.
"Nothing baby," I said, "just getting ready to give baths and finish cleaning up before bed."
"No Mommy," she said. "I saw you, so tell me what you were doing?"
I didn't understand what she meant, so I asked her what she saw.
"Mommy," She said with a twinkle in her eye. "I saw you kissing Santa Claus."

Unknown "Sissy ღ Doodle" - 16 years, 8 months, 6 days ago

When I was a kid, about 3 or 4, we lived in the suburbs of Los Angeles. There were five of us and my father was the only one that worked, so money was always tight. There were a lot of families with small kids in our neighborhood. In the evenings they’d all be outside playing while the parents sat on the front porch watching them and visiting with other neighbors. Every evening after dinner the ice cream truck would drive through the neighborhood, playing music.

I was always wearing this dirty white jacket with the fur around the hood, I guess I was trying to hide - I don't know what from, or why. I’d sit in my yard, watching as kids and adults would stand on the curb waiting to get an ice cream. I couldn’t get one because we never had the money, but I‘d dream about what it would be like to just once be able to stand with them and say “One Eskimo pie please,” and hand the man inside the truck my nickel.

This went on week after week. Then I got an idea. I knew it might work, I don’t know how I knew that, but it was just an idea in my head. So one day I waited down the street from my house, listening for the music. When I heard it I stood up from the curb and when the truck came by I put out my hand.

The guy that drove the truck was very friendly. I always noticed how nice he was to all the kids. If he’d been mean and gruff I wouldn’t have done it but I wasn’t afraid of him.

When he stopped I went up to the truck and said “One Eskimo pie please”. He reached into the case with the silver lid and brought one out. He handed it to me and said “That’ll be five cents”. I smiled and said I didn’t have five cents. He looked at me. Then I said if he didn’t let me keep the ice cream, I’d go home and tell my mom he tried to take all my clothes off.

He looked scared. He didn’t know what to do. I don’t remember what he said but he did let me keep the ice cream. Then he got in the driver’s seat and drove away. I was so happy. I finally got my ice cream.

The richer kids got ice creams every day and others only once a week and I wanted another one. A couple of weeks went by. It worked before, and so I decided to try again. That night I waited for the music again. I heard it, I stood at the curb. When he came to me, I could tell he wanted to just keep going, but he didn’t. He stopped. I said “One Eskimo pie please.” He reached in the freezer to get it, but before he gave it to me he asked for the nickel. I said I didn’t have a nickel, but if he didn’t give it to me I’d tell my mother he tried to take off all my clothes.

He looked at me for a long time. I must have known it wasn’t going to work. I slunk down into my jacket. I wanted to be invisible. This time he didn’t say a word. He turned the truck off, got out and grabbed my arm. He took me home, knocked on the front door, my mother came out. He told her what I’d done, two weeks ago and again today. My mother was mad, madder than I’d ever seen her before. She yanked me in the house, apologized to the man and slammed the door behind us. She hit me so hard I couldn’t sit for a week. I was so confused. One minute I was somehow getting an ice cream, just because I was female, the next I was being dragged home and getting beaten.

I never tried that stunt again. It did teach me something, though. I had power. But it was a fragile power.

And I did get my ice cream.


Unknown "Sissy ღ Doodle" - 16 years, 8 months, 6 days ago

I knew this was where my anger would land me one day; I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. One moment I'm sitting in my living room, watching television and the next I'm walking down this long dark hall., the windows casting shadows along the walls as I make my way to my death. Every step I make rings in my ears, I know these are my last and I want to feel each one, but the weakness in my legs is making it hard to take the next step.

How could I have been so stupid? I knew he was trying to provoke me, why did I react to his vicious taunts? It seemed to be his favorite thing to do those last days we were together.

When I picked up the gun I didn't really intend to use it, I just wanted him to shut up. To leave and never return, to never hear him call me ugly, fat or stupid again was the only thought going through my mind at that moment. Why did I have to shoot him?

Suddenly I see a light at the end of the hall. It's bright and I hear distant noises, maybe even a scream. Why is someone else screaming? I am the one going to her death.

The light dims and the noise subsides, as my mind goes back to these last few months. The police, the sirens, the technician pronouncing him dead, my screams. Then in the court hearing the judge tell me I will be put to death for the crime of murder. It wasn’t murder, don’t they understand? I was just trying to get some peace and quiet.
“I suppose I will have that now”, I think, as I imagine the darkness and silence ahead.

But it isn’t dark or quiet; I hear the screaming again, the bright lights coming through the doorway. What is going on in there? No, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Please don’t make me go in there; I am so sorry for what I did. Click, click, click, my heels hit the floor and every time I am one step closer to my death. God please help me, don’t let them do this to me. Don’t they understand it was unbearable? I could take no more. I start to cry, for the first time since that night I cry hard, the fear overtaking me. I hear myself start to scream, as the bright lights of the doorway are upon me.

Suddenly I'm cold and wet. I'm screaming now, unable to walk on my own. The screams I heard just a moment ago are gone, and now I hear voices. I can't understand what they're saying, but they're louder than before. I feel enclosed, as if I can't move, but I am moving, I can feel it. I feel hands on me, pulling at me, what are they doing?

I hear a voice very clearly. It's a woman’s voice saying “Congratulations Mrs. Baker. It's a girl.”

Unknown "Sissy ღ Doodle" - 16 years, 8 months, 6 days ago

I am sitting on the ledge, looking 21 stories down to the street. Look at them, they are all so tiny. How can such tiny things be so much trouble? Well after today it won’t matter, will it? I’ll show them. Falling 21 stories will definitely make a statement they won’t soon forget. The ones that actually see the splatter will be affected the most I suppose, but that can’t be helped, can it? Maybe they are treating someone in their life rotten and this will straighten them up too. So really this is doing society a favor, killing two birds, as they say. I have heard death is not the answer, that there are other options, but I haven’t found them and I don’t expect to after this. What brought me here you wonder? Well I’ll tell ya.

It all started a few months ago. I was in love, deeply in love. I thought he loved me too. In fact I know he did until that bitch showed up. She set her eyes on him and before anyone knew what happened they were off to Vegas getting married. It broke my heart, my spirit too; I lost the desire to live. I went through a lot of emotions, wanting to kill them, hating myself, standing in the mirror and seeing the round tummy, the too thin legs, and for sure I was never tall enough. When this 5 foot 11 inch Amazon walked in what did anyone expect? Of course all the men would gawk and all the women would envy. She walked like a cat, and purred without ever making a sound. Well this will show John Carter. His happiness will forever be scared by what I’m about to do won’t it?

I wonder what will be said about it all. I am sure the papers will have a field day, since he is the famous John Carter. I wanted to be well known, but not for this. I wanted to be known as the wife of the famous John Carter. Well so much for that idea. OK so I had to change plans, try to make a new life, is it worth it to do what I am about to do. It is so far down. I cannot imagine how it would feel to fall knowing at the end is surely death. Oh well, get over , You are here now so just do it. Stop thinking about how it will feel, or what people will say, none of that really matters does it?

I stand up; glad the ledge is as wide as it is. God forgive me for what I am about to do, but I think you will understand. The curtain is blowing from the window I crawled out of just a few moments ago; I feel the same wind pushing me a little. As the sweat breaks out from fear, I slowly slide over to the window to get a good handle on something before I do it. Finally I am ready. I turn around and look her in the eyes as they plead with me not to do it. Like I said, I am so glad the ledge is wide; it gave me some nice quality time with the bitch before we part. I glare at her and finally take my foot and push her off. She can’t scream, I have her gagged. Her legs and arms do not flail, I have them tightly bound. I know they will know it was murder, but who cares. I want the world to know how much I love John Carter.



Unknown "Sissy ღ Doodle" - 16 years, 8 months, 6 days ago