#creative wtiting

And best is such a definitive word

leaves no doubt

as to what it's about

looks down

on the clown

who's efforts only

reach

second best

there's no argument with best

no debate

no other template

to measure your efforts

or rank your attempt

but give best a pronoun

and then best sounds

a different song

one that encourages

who's left

to play along

the best way out

maybe through

but my best is to do

build another door

“Name something that’s not a crime, but should be counted as one.”

“Wasting food that people put their heart and soul into making.”

“Strike one.”

“Being rude to people who are just trying to do their job.”

"Strike two. One more strike and the others can steal.”

“How about when people plan a big ass something and then when you’re given the okay you can go, they cancel it all last minute? And yes, I’m talking about you!”

*awkward silence*

I want to take constantly fidgeting hands

And give them a permanent canvas

Something to hold onto that defines them

A story that follows them as they grow old.

That voice that says yes you're still here

You have value and spirit

And one day you'll watch yourself go

You'll have fond memories of your ghosts

And the long conversations

That kept you from feeling alone.

Know that this is your home

But you're not meant to stay here

Instead just to look with wide eyes at the stars

And to run with the wolves

Towards a harrowing future

Of nondescript buildings and broken down cars.

Of faces that light up like fires when they see you

That smile and mean it without cause for disguise

One day you will want to see the world I promise

And not just the contours of the lids of your eyes.

I want to tell you that the worst part of making things worse

Is that you might not want them to get better

Because if they do you'll have no one else to blame but yourself

When you still don't have a good thing to say

But most of all I just want to tell you

Anything that will work

To make the things that still haunt you

[disclaimer: Because this is a challenge piece, I need to clarify. The challenge was to type weird news in google and create something based on the first thing that pops up. Here was the article I saw: http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/bloody-hell-thats-weird-dad-11456435.amp ]

“Can you believe momma?!”, Alexxis shouted to her younger sister, Porsha, while pacing back and forth.

Porsha said nothing. She continued to follow Alexxis’ movements with her eyes, fascinated by her outrage. Amused by it.

“All of my friends can go out tonight, but I can't. It's not fair!”

“But Alexxis”, Porsha finally chimes in, “ since when do you care about Halloween? We’ve never done any of that stuff so why are you tripping?”

“We've never done it because she never let us. It's not fair she thinks she can run my life!”

Alexxis and Porsha were 11 months apart in age but worlds apart in personality. That became clear when their father passed away. Their mother, Lynnette, a staunch Christian, found comfort and purpose in the local church which meant more rules for the girls. Although it made no difference to Porsha, these rules were life or death for Alexxis’ newfound popularity.

“I think you're overreacting, Lex. Like, what's the big deal?”

“I'm a prisoner in my own home because momma and Jesus decided there's something wrong with playing dress up and asking people for candy. I hate that church”, Alexxis said, “I just about hate momma for forcing us in that church”

“Well you can't do anything about it so you should relax”, Porsha said as she searched for her headphones to drown out her melodramatic sister.

That's what you think…

It was 3:23am when Porsha was woken up by the sound of her sister changing her clothes and attempting to creep into bed.

“I can't believe you left, Alexxis” Porsha mumbled, barely awake.

“And, sis, it was worth every minute”, Alexxis exclaimed, pleased with herself as she drifted off to sleep.

One hour into her sleep, Alexxis made a mad dash to the bathroom. Her stomach was in knots and she can hardly hold in what was dying to come out. Her distress woke her mother up.

“Darling, what's wrong?!”, Lynnette screeched, while wiping the beads of sweat from her daughter's forehead while she laid in a fetal position besides the toilet.

“I don't know, mommy. My stomach… it really hurts”

For the remainder of the night, Lynnette catered to her child's stomach issues and continued to do so until Alexxis fell asleep at the start of dawn.

While making breakfast, Lynnette turned on the news, just as she's done every morning. The co anchors mentioned Halloween and Lynnette rolled her eyes at the thought of people willingly engaging in ‘Devil’ things. Her thoughts were quickly centered in reality once she heard the co anchors talk about a record number of children admitted into the hospital last night from exploding diarrhea:

"It appears that 25 teens have been admitted to the hospital from a Halloween prank".