Disabled Enabled
Disabled Enabled
A selection of poems, short stories, recipes and some other information for disabled people.
In the aim to raise funds for charities Coop's Wheel's support.
Enjoy reading this selection. If you would like to donate please just click on the charities links above, they take you straight to the donate pages.
Pain
Pain comes and goes
When you least expect
Can make you so low,
Off it's painful side effect
yet I want you to know
We give as good as we get.
By Kim Cooper
The Earth Dragons tale
Now the earth dragons were powerful creatures that forged the landscape we see today. They dug out channels that became rivers, made large dips that turned into lakes and stretched their wings under the earth to make mountains and hills.
Some of the earth dragons were wise and strong, others small and shy. Diamajan was one of the small dragons, quiet and timid. She had been told to go make some hills in what humans would later call Canada. She flew off and then plunged into the earth near to where the hills were wanted.
Diamajan started well, she really did! She burrowed and dug as she had been told, although she did keep stopping to clean herself because she was secretly very pleased with how she looked. Diamajan was a delicate white sparkling dragon, with silver lacey wings and as she moved rainbow sparkles glinted across her scales.
As she was digging under the rich dark soil, she began to get....well, to be honest she began to get scared. The earth and rock was all around her, dark and close, and she was afraid she would get stuck. Finally she got so scared, poor Diamajan couldn't move a step further! She huddled in the dark, all alone and afraid and started to cry. Then you know how Diamajan felt. Awful isn't it?
Her tears came faster and faster, and she began to sob and howl! When dragons get upset, they can shoot great spurts of flame out of their nostrils and mouths. Well Diamajan didn't know this and suddenly WHOOSHHHHH, out shot a bright flare of flame.
Well this made the rock in front of her nose get very hot, and as it cooled it clinked and tinkled.
Then Diamajan stared with her mouth wide open in surprise! The plain grey rock had turned into beautiful sparkling crystals! Diamajan thought, then blew another slightly cooler flame at another piece of rock. This rock turned into a beautiful blue sapphire.
She wiggled and wriggled until she had turned around and she flamed every piece of rock around her, turning them into oh so many gorgeous colours. She burrowed back a little way and then turned around, until she had made a cavern. Here she found that blowing different temperatures of flame made different coloured jewels. Only the hottest flame made the clearest crystal though, and this was very difficult and tiring to blow.
A fairy was passing on her way to paint butterflies when she heard Diamajan giggling and blasting flame underground. Curious, she flew down the tunnel to see what was happening, and make sure everything was okay. What a wonderful sight she saw, for miles and miles in tunnels under the earth here were flowers and stripes, circles and stars in a million fantastic colours!
Kerr, the fairy, spoke to Diamajan, telling her how beautiful everything was and after a while they agreed that Kerr could take a piece of the clearest most sparkling gem as a gift to Queen Tista. Kerr flew carefully, carrying a piece of the crystal nearly as big as she was. Determined to get it there safely, she fluttered her little wings until she thought they would drop off from tiredness!
Queen Tista was amazed when Kerr arrived back with the piece of what was once rock, and as she istened to Kerr's story, she couldnt help but notice all the sparkles and colours inside. Tista declared his rock would forever be a reminder that dragons were clever and brave. She named the stone Diamond, in honour of Diamajan, and it bears that name even to this day....though humans dont know why.
Whats that? Is Diamajan okay? Yes, shes still underground in her glowing gem cavern. She is not scared anymore because even when she closes her eyes, she can see the beauty that she made out of plain grey rock, and she knows the most beautiful things can be hiding in the dark.
Donated by @Georgia Laurie
Also donated by @Georgia Laurie
Lin and Norb's Tale
So where do the earth dragons and fairies come from? Well I think in an earlier story we talked about how Tista was created. Sometimes the light is just right, the breeze is cool and light without being cold and it just feels like that’s the best the moment can get. Fairy boys are made when the star shine mixes with the edge of a night breeze.
The fairy pets like Tango and Epie are made by fairy wishes. When the fairies are lonely and they wish for a friend, they will turn a corner or lift a leaf and a pet will be there waiting for them! The earth dragons were made in a much more mysterious way. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Well when the world was first made there was a flurry of shooting stars which landed gently on the earth. Then with a gentle crunch, the stars cracked open and out came tiny dragons. They didn’t stay tiny for long and soon grew to different shapes and sizes.
Sometimes dragons and fairies got ill, like Malvac and his toothache. Sometimes they got very ill and this is a story about that.
In the middle of what you humans now call Scotland there were 2 dragons who were very close. Their stars landed at the same time and they grew to the same size. I suppose we would call them brother and sister, Norb and Lin. Norb was a beautiful deep purplish red colour and Lin was dark blue, and both of them had silver tummies. Their wings were edged with silver and they sparkled as they flew.
Norb and Lin made a beautiful piece of the landscape. A peaceful valley surrounded by green rolling hills, a crystal blue loch nestled at one end. The grass grew thick and lush and trees shook their leaves gently in the soft winds. When they had finished making this place, Norb and Lin spent their days climbing the hills, then soaring off the edge to glide into the clear lake. In summer they dozed in the long green grass and in winter they slid and tumbled on the frozen waters surface. The valley echoed with happy laughter every day and at night they curled up together on top of the tallest hill and slept.
One day as they were kicking their way through piles of autumn leaves, Lin realised he didn’t feel as good as he usually did. He had a bit of an ache in his side. He didn’t know why but he just felt odd. Lin thought no more of it and went back to chasing Norb through the rustling crisp leaves.
A week later he and Norb were chasing a leaf caught in the breeze and he felt tired. It was too early to be tired and he was sure he had slept alright. That day he stopped playing a bit earlier than usual and had an early night.
Lin started being a bit slower and a bit more careful as he played, so much so that Norb asked him what was wrong. Lin's wings didn’t sparkle the way they had and he looked paler than before. They talked about it and decided to go see Queen Tista. They gathered a few of the most beautiful autumn leaves to give as a gift and started their journey to Tista's home.
When Tista saw Lin, she knew right away something was wrong. She stroked and comforted him and gave him the best fairy foods to eat to make him strong again, but Lin just felt worse as the days went by. Tista was sad, she knew sometimes Dragons and fairies got sick and tired. Sometimes all they needed was some special attention and rest, or medicine. But sometimes they would be so ill that they curled up and went to sleep forever. Fairies turned into shimmering rainbows, and Dragons turned back into the star stones they came from. Its not normally a problem because dragons tended to solitary, but what about Norb?
Tista took Norb aside and explained that it would be best if Lin went to sleep, it would stop him hurting and feeling ill. Norb roared and shrieked, she launched herself into the air and flew away furiously, her cries echoing for miles around. Norb tried to pretend it wasn’t true because she wanted Lin to stay with her. Eventually though, she sadly returned because she knew Tista was telling her the truth. She knew if Queen Tista couldn’t help Lin, then he was best going to sleep.
Lin and Norb flew slowly back to their valley. It took a long time because Lin was very tired, but eventually they perched on their favourite hill and looked over their beautiful valley once again. Tista and her fairies, and some of the other mighty dragons came to visit Lin. They hugged Lin and told him they loved him and would miss him. Everyone sat in the peaceful valley and talked softly. Just after the middle of the day, as the sun glinted on the crystal blue waters, a cool breeze gently moved the cool air. Carried on the breeze was the scent of winter and a hint of snow.
Norb looked around over the land and saw this was a perfect moment. She curled up next to Lin and gently whispered that it was okay for him to go to sleep for the last time. Lin smiled softly and closed his eyes, gently drifting into a deep slumber. As Norb listened to his breathing getting slower and slower she saw sparkling dust appear on Lin's skin. There was a sudden bright dazzle of light and when she looked again, there was a rock full of beautiful quartz veins where Lin had been.
Norb realised then this valley would always be safe, filled with a million and more perfect moments. Lin would no longer fly at her side but would forever be there, watching and protecting their special place. Norb closed her eyes and she realised she could still see Lin's smile and hear his laughter. She flew high into the cool air, and as she soared and swooped, she knew Lin would always be with her.
Precious Metal
Winner Macmillan Books Competition Local Finals
Runner Up Macmillan Books Competition Regional Finals
By
Tania M C Lewis
15th March 2006
Precious Metal
I stood at the line
In front of me the rain sheeted down, making the referee on the other side of the track appear to waver as if under water. Not far from the truth, we could have held the swimming events at the track that day.
In my mind, I compared this soaking scene to that of months previously, when, in brilliant sunlight, I had first brought my son to the track.
“Its very big” he said with some trepidation, as we both eyed the huge circle with 10 lanes and I though to myself, how much bigger it must appear to a nine year old child.
“Don’t worry sweetheart”, I told him, “Once you have done it a few times, it won’t seem nearly so big”. But my heart was in my mouth.
Session after session, we watched him run.
The first time he was slow, cautious, last. Testing his endurance and getting a feel for the course. The second time, gaining confidence, he ran fourth place, the next time third, with only significantly older children ahead of him. In the sessions leading up to the event, he started to draw a crowd. Who was this young lad, with his flowing blonde hair and his unusual manner? There was something different about him, but to the crowd that stopped to watch him, the most important thing was his determination. By the penultimate training session, he was regularly in second place.
I stood at the line.
The silver rain beat down on us all. I heard the sound wave build as the runners rounded the final curve. My sight obscured, I couldn’t tell who was ahead, couldn’t hear whose name they chanted. Then, they flashed by; arms held high, chests thrust out.
His blonde mane of head flying out behind him, my son flew out of the sheet of silver, to capture his Gold.
By Tania Maria Cann Lewis
A Life of Autism
By Phillip Hennigan
The difference of man,
Creates a rift.
For some a curse,
And others a gift.
I find these words inspiring and true in most cases, a curse but also a gift in the eyes of human society. The disabilities of man can create in all people a difference of personality, of experience and of understanding for the life of humanity that unfolds all around us.
Autism is one of many types of disabilities that controls the lives of many people around the world. Changing there future and allowing them to explore a deeper understanding of themselves, I know this through personal because I to live with Aspergers syndrome which is a form of autism.
Autism has allowed me to look upon the world with an interested eye, to understand and appreciate the subtle differences in people, the community and the world around me. And it’s through this difference of perception and experience that I am able to see the world in a way that most people take for granted.
A path of autism can be a difficult and sometimes trying path of life but it’s not without its rewards, an ability to understand the true feelings and passions of the people around you, an understanding of your role in the place of human society and the feeling of warmth and comfort from the ones who love you when you journey into you future life that is yet to come before you.
The Autism that I live with, Aspergers syndrome is a difference of experience for me and many others around the world; it affects ours abilities to understand the complexities of human emotions and the subtleties of close human friendships. This is a difficult test of our lives but it can also be a great learn curve for people, a way of learning how to properly work with people around them and how to make enjoyable moments with friends and family.
Most people with disabilities try to lead the best lives that they can with the aid of doctors and special service people, but I choose to lead my own life with the help and support of my friends and family. It’s through the support of my family that I have been able to accomplish a lot in my life and through the friends of my life I have been able to have a normal life of fun and laughs and even been able to share good moments with my friends from schools and collages and even my friends on facebook.
I can say what future lay before me and other like me who live our lives with autism, but I can say from personal experience that in my opinion that disabilities are not a burden on the lives of ourselves and our families and friends around us but instead should be viewed more as recognition of support for all people and bonding of love in the live of people born with disabilities which allows all to come closer together as families and friends.
No, I don’t view my disability as a burden and challenge of life; I view it as a Gift.
Special thanks to following people who helped inspire me to write this little story:
My Mum (Sarah McCarthy), Dad (Bernard Hennigan) and Brother (Peter Hennigan): for providing loads of love and support through my life.
My friends from schools and collages: for helping me to understand the life of other people and how to form close friendships.
And
My close friends on Facebook:
Vicky Sugerbean
Kim Cooper
The Valerian Slayers Group (castle age)
Danny Knott (friend from collage)
And all my other many friends.
A very special Thank you to all of you for making my life what it is today and for making it so memorable.
THANK YOU
The Pipe
She put on a good act
but you could see through it
she tried very hard
but you could see she was sad
You made her smile and laugh
but you knew when you were gone
she would again be sad
with the pipe attached for miles
She would sit in the chair
or struggle from room to room
always attached to the pipe
which made her sad
She never complained or gave bother
And when the end came it was sad
but at least the pain of breathing was gone
and the pipe attached was gone
By Elaine Cooney
Feel
the true disability is
the one that makes
you blind to the feelings
of others around you.
A lack of heart, a lack of soul,
is a deep curse,
and for those affected,
there is no cure.
Disability is a lie,
Living with one is a neverending fight
Each day is an achievement,
But there are no medals
There is always love,
And hope, and friends,
For anyone who cares,
A smile is the best
But what can we do for the ones with no heart?
Thank you Cendrine Nugues
Yes I'm Disabled
Yes im disabled
yes, it is true
arent you glad that you are you.
Yes, i would change things
yes I would,
and being disabled,
just isnt that good
so thank your stars
and smile each day
cos being disabled
just wont go away
I am who i am
that much is true
now arent you glad
that You are You.
By Jan Langton
Any change for the poor?
She says, standing on the corner.
One day, you'll look for her
and she'll be no more.
Will you sing a hymn for her?
Will you be her only mourner?
She suffers for you
in her disguise.
Who knows whom
She might have been otherwise.
Any change for the poor?
That was your one chance to give,
Your one chance to live.
Do you know if there'll be more?
Any change for the poor?
Her voice is strained with desparation
Any moment could mean your expiration.
Any change for the poor?
She suffers and suffers more,
waiting for you to walk through that door.
For it is only through giving
that we start living.
So give and give more
for one day...you'll be saying
Any change for the poor?
By Catherine Carrington
To the friend I will never know
I wish I had healing powers
To help you get better
So I would have more time
To be with you
I wish I had healing powers
For you to become a grandfather
You would be a wonderful one
They would have so much fun
I wish I had healing powers
For you to grow old
With the one you love,
Your soulmate, to see her smile
I wish I had healing powers
So we could chat and laugh
And maybe even one day meet
And laugh at each other
But I have none
By Cendrine Nugues
I Have A Little Angel
who sits upon my head
she watches as the people pass
and hear the comments said ............like
Mind that poor lady
be careful what you do
that lady isnt fit and well,
like either me or you.
The Angel looked upon this scene
with tears in her eyes
cos everybody know that,
Disability survives.
So, no matter what your problem,
no matter how you feel,
just think of that Little Angel
and All the things she sees.
By Jan Langton
I'm A Survior
by Catherine Carrington
I have come out of the fog
Penetrating this filthy haze that taints my innocence
No longer a victim of my past
But rather a survivor, fearlessly exploring my future
Releasing myself from these chains of self-hatred
Shedding the shame that has coated my soul
For too many years
Stepping out of this chamber of horrors
My mind has been a prisoner to
For so long
Lifting off my shoulders the burdens,
Of anger and resentment
I have been carrying for this beast
Knowing that although I can never forget
I must forgive him for the evils
He has forced upon my flesh
Rather than weak and dependent
I continue to grow resilient and strong
Utilizing challenges of the past
As tools to cope with
The struggles that lay ahead
It is now I let go of the victim inside me
Drinking in the freedom from a past
That will no longer bind me
This is Georgia's first of these beautiful tales, enjoy
Now come sit down while I tell you a special story. Who am I? My names Epie but we will get back to that later. Comfortable? Good.
So where to start? Once upon a time the world had dragons, noble and huge, and they were charged with a very important job. When the world was new, they dug holes in the ground and then stood up and opened their wings and gave us mountains. They chewed gorges into the land and made rivers. Others dove to the bottom of the oceans and gave us tides by swishing their tails. The biggest, smartest dragons crawled deep into the Earth to its very core and made sure the world turned, giving us night and day.
As well as the giant dragons, back then there were fairies, and its about fairies I have come to talk. The fairies were tiny, but don’t think just because they were tiny, no bigger than your thumb nail, that they didn’t do very important jobs. Lets look closely at one particular group of fairies. Each valley, field, wood, or lake had its own family of fairies and the group were are going to talk about lived in a place that came to be known eventually, as Morton Terrace, Greenock.
Clara was a very wise fairy and she had the job of reminding the birds to sing. Each morning she would rise up early and whisper in every birds ear. What she whispered I cannot say because they were fairy words. Arta painted the dew drops on spiders webs, Rona made the breeze blow, and Kyria kept all the little animals busy. Their were others in their family, like Dana who put the sparkles on the edge of the waves, and Gia who painted the grass a rich dark green, but they touch this story only lightly. There was also a beautiful and kind fairy called Phia. Phia's job? Oh yes, I should tell you what that was. It may sound a silly job but Phia made the sun shine through the leaves of the trees in JUST the right way. Doesn't sound important, does it? Let me tell you about when that became the most important thing of all...
Clara, Phia and the other fairies were going about their usual business one day when the earth began to shake! Oh my goodness, what could be happening? They heard a bellow, and a crack, and a roar and suddenly a huge piece of the land fell into the already wide river...people one day would call it the River Clyde. The poor fairies were terrified! They all dashed into the grass and started talking all at once! Little fairy voices babbling words that wouldn’t mean anything to you human big people, but no one making any sense because they were all talking at once.
Phia's pet fairy cat...oh what’s a fairy cat? Well its like a normal cat but fairy sized, and they can talk both fairy and human words....realised something would have to stop them. His name was Tango by the way...I knew you would be wondering that. He stood on his back legs and went “MEOOOOWWWWW” as loud as he could! Well this stopped the fairies mid-word! All fairies know you have to listen to fairy pets, because fairy pets are very clever. Tango told the fairies (in fairy language of course) that it was no good panicking, they had to find out what had happened. The fairies decided they should all send their pets to see what was wrong while they tried to repair the damage.
Tango was sent down the tunnels to see the earth dragon that lived under the ground here. He had with him Phis pet fairy dragon, Epie...yes, that’s me. We went down the tunnels, miles and miles under the ground, past tree roots, through puddles until we reached the cavern of the Earth Dragon. Oh my, what a mess we found! The Earth Dragon was in terrible pain because he had broken a tooth chewing a very hard bit of rock! He was thrashing around, his tail going one way, his wings flapping, goodness what an uproar! What could we do? We raced back up to the surface to find Phia, who was magicking a tree back into the ground. Fairies are tiny but their magic isn’t, never forget that! Tango and I told Phia what we had found and her eyes filled with tears. She knew how much teeth could hurt, particularly if they went bad.
Luckily Phia knew all about trees, and she came up with a brilliant idea! There was a certain tree, called a willow by us humans, and it had magical bark. Phia cut off a strip of bark. No, don’t worry, it didn’t hurt the tree at all, trees and flowers were designed to heal themselves and others. Under willow bark is a rich white layer, and that layer can stop pain. A long time ago before chemists and medicines, but after fairies, people would cut off willow twigs and chew them when they had a pain.
Phia, Tango and I whizzed back down the tunnel with the other fairies trailing behind us. Clara flew to the earth Dragons head and calmed him down, muttering soothing words and stroking his eye ridges. Once he was calm, Phia explained what she was going to do. She told him that she was going to wrap the strip of bark around his sore tooth and let the willow do its magic. Rona blew a breeze to keep the earth Dragon cool, Arta conjured up dewdrops to give him a drink, and Kyria sang to him. Well the Earth Dragon, soon felt better and he softly snuffled his thanks to all the fairies and pets. They all went up to the surface and made the land pretty again, though in the place that would be come to be called Morton terrace, there would always be a cliff where the land fell away.
The fairies sat in the long grass and had a meeting (that’s a human word for long boring talk). They decided that the pets should have jobs all of their own as they had shown how clever they were, and although it was sad that the fairies would no longer have their pets with them, they had a more important job to do. The pets went far and wide, checking on all the Earth Dragons. They have travelled all over the earth and it has taken many many years. Tango and I were checking on the Earth Dragon that lives just over in the hills over there. He says he’s fine, so that’s good. He was the last dragon to check, so all the pets are now seeking new homes. We wanted someone who reminded us of our loving sunshine fairy.
We talked to all the animals and trees and they told us of a girl with a huge caring heart and a smile like the sunlight through the leaves. We may pop back sometimes to say hi to Phia, but we will go at night and always be back before you wake. Hello, we are Epie and Tango, and we are now your pets if you want us.
Tista's Tale
So, young one, what else would you like to know about us and our fairy friends? Did we have Princes and Princesses? Yes, of course we did but not as you know them. We gave titles to those who had done something extraordinary...only One has ever earned the title of Queen....
What did she do? All in good time, we have to start at the start or we will never get started! Sorry, fairy pet humour. Our Tista...well to start with, we didn’t know quite what to do with her. Did I explain how fairies were created? Oh, I had better do that then. Have you ever looked at the water and had your breathe taken away by how beautiful the sun shines on it at one single moment? That lost breathe isn’t wasted. It floats away and is combined with all the magic floating around from making birds sing and making grass green and becomes a fairy, and the more beautiful the thing that caused that lost breathe, the more powerful the fairy is. Tista was made by a moment so beautiful its like has never been seen again. The sky was a perfect blue, the clouds fluffy and white. In the beautiful warm air a bird sung clear and strong above fields of emerald green grass. That moment was so precious that it felt like everything on the earth, even the fairies and Earth Dragons themselves had had its breathe taken away.
Tista was a delicate fairy, her wings a soft rich purple, the shape of butterfly wings. And while most fairies appear with their jobs very easy to see, we couldn’t work out what Tista did. Fairies who painted dew drops, like Arta, had wings with rainbow hues and bright turquoise eyes. Rona, who made the breeze, had white feathered wings and hair that always moved softly around her face. See what I mean? Tista didn’t have any of these, and we hadn’t seen purple wings before!
Tista watched all the other fairies working, day after day. She tried to learn their jobs and help them, but she couldn’t make the breeze blow, it was either nothing or hurricanes! She couldn’t make the water ripple like a laughing diamond sheet. First time we let her try, she flooded three valleys! So she just sat, and waited. One day Dana was just finishing with the waves when she suddenly tripped and fell! Oh no! She landed with a off and an ouch and Tista flew straight over there to help, reaching Dana almost before she hit the ground!
Poor Dana, one of her bright blue wings was quite badly wrinkled and she just didn’t know what to do...but Tista did! Tista got some straight sticks and some long blades of grass and built a frame to hold Dana’s wing flat, being ever so careful to make sure there were no creases or tears, then she sat beside the sobbing Dana and held her hand, sang her songs and wove beautiful pictures in the air with rays of light. Dana soon forgot her pain, watching Tista's drawings glimmer in the air. The flower pictures looked so real you could smell the sweet scent, the images of dolphins splashed Dana as they jumped, making her giggle and wriggle. That was when we realised what Tista's gift was, and it was so precious a gift, we danced with delight! Fairies had always talked how one day one fairy would be made who had a very special job indeed. Can you guess what that job is? Tista cared. No? Not impressed? Cant imagine how simply caring how another person or fairy feels is important? Oh dear.
If no one ever cared how you felt, who would feed you? Who would make sure you were warm and safe and had clothes and books and toys and friends? Ah, now you are starting to realise! Taking time to care how someone else is feeling is what makes it important that the breeze blows just so and the trees let the sunlight through. Caring is a piece of magic that even humans can do. Think of how much it makes someone smile if you give them a surprise present, a drawing done just for them. Have you wondered why even now humans gives cards and photos to each other? They are doing what Tista did, using pictures to make others smile, to show they care. Knowing someone cares makes your heart feel good, makes the day brighter and warmer than a thousand fairies ever could. Try it sometime. Give a picture to someone special and watch them light up as if by magic.
Anyway, back to Tista......well all the fairies got talking, as did the fairy pets, and even the Earth Dragons talked! This was the most important thing that happened since the world began and fairies came into being, and somehow “Princess” just didn’t seem a big enough word. Finally One of the Earth dragons...Malvac I think it was, the Dragon of the East coast of Scotland had a suggestion and quickly it was whispered from fairy ear to dragon ear and back again. Yes yes YES! Perfect!
Tista was brought to the hill over Malvac's....well, over Malvac to be honest and Clara, the wise fairy in charge of bird song, stepped forward. She announced for all to hear that from this day forward Tista would be Queen, because she had shown herself to care enough to look after everyone. It was a big responsibility. Luckily Tista's heart was full enough of love to do such a job, and from that day forward Tista has cared for every fairy, fairy pet, earth dragon, human, animal and beautiful thing this world has to offer. The walls of her mushroom castle are covered with pictures of the things she loves. What’s that? You have mushrooms in your garden? Well, for all you know Tista's castle might be down there, in the grass where you play on warm fragrant days. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, knowing that someone who cares so much is that close? They may be closer than you think!
Donated by @Georgia Laurie
Silent Scream
I look at you with probing eyes
And wonder why don’t you look back
At me?
I search your face to see
If there is anything there
That tells me that you know
I am here.
It has been a long time
Since I heard your whisper
Saw your tear
Felt your hand.
Do you still love
Do you still care
Do you still know
Me?
I am here.
I am here and I know
The voice is gone
but my whisper is a silent scream
in my mind.
My tears are broken shards
in my heart,
My touch is a fleeting glimmer behind my eyes My eyes may be blind
My ears may be deaf
My voice may be gone
But I am here.
By Doddie Householder
My ghost story (Untitled) - Doddie Householder
I
She slipped her nightgown over her head and took a sip of water from the glass on top of the nightstand beside the bed. Settling under the covers, it took a couple of turns before she finally found a comfortable position. Then she drifted off to sleep. Soft sounds emanated from the sleeping figure while her chest rose and fell steadily.
The dream was a pleasant one. She was walking around a gravel path and came upon a small house in the clearing. She looked up to one of its windows and saw a fair-headed girl who waved at her. She waved back. The rose gardens flanking the path brought a heady scent of floral perfume to her nose. She put out one of her hands to touch one of the heavy drooping crimson petals.
The door opened and the little girl beckoned her to come in. She followed her up a staircase, noiselessly padding up the thick-carpeted stairs. There were rooms left and right and they finally reached the end of the hallway. The girl turned to her and said, “Would you come into my room?”
Nodding she entered the small room with its tiny bed by the side of the wall. Vibrant crayon drawings hung on the wall above a small study desk. She walked up to the desk and picked up one of drawings. The little blond girl piped up “That’s me and you.” She turned and smiled at the grinning moppet.
II
The moon was a sliver of light in the dark starless sky. Bits of moonlight crept in the open window. Another thing was creeping into the window, something insidious ... something sinister. A grey hand clutched at the windowsill, followed by a long grey body.
The creature oozed into the room. Darkness seems to wrap around it like a grateful serpent. It gave a hiss and when it turned ever so slightly the moonlight reflected in the small beady eyes. It moved slowly towards the girl. Stopping ever so slightly when the figure shifted in her sleep.
The creature crept closer and closer. Now darkness is filling every corner of the room. The air is getting heavy and stagnant with malice. A grey hand reached out to the outstretched arm of the girl on the bed, followed by a round bald head. Moving closed to the slightly open hand on the bed cover, the mouth on the creature gaped wide and long thin fangs protruded from the gaping black maw.
A swift movement and it struck. It latched on the wrist, clamping down and retreating back after a minute. A long red tongue flicked at the two dots of blood on the wrist and after a couple of seconds the open puncture wounds healed themselves shut. The red slimy appendage flicked again and licked the remnants of the blood on the wrist and the creature reared back its head and slurped it back into its mouth.
Now the creature creeps up on the bed. Lying beside the prone figure. The breathing has changed. The girl seems to struggle with each drawn breath. The creature moved its head closer to the girl’s face and starts to hiss and whisper.
III
“Me and you?” she asked. The girl nodded and pointed to two figures on the paper. She looked down and found the colors swirling on the paper. That is not right. Something is not right.
She looked up and saw that day has turned to night. Suddenly, the house didn’t feel the same anymore. It wasn’t ... safe. Shadows begin filling the room and when she looked outside there was a fog creeping from the outside. The rose garden seemed to shrink and withdraw in the darkness. She turned to the little girl and said “I shouldn’t be here.”
“No, stay.” Pleaded the little girl. “Let’s sing a song. How about A-B-C’s ?” The little girl started singing “A, B, C, D, E, F, G”, while swaying her body in the room. She stared at the singing child and then realized that the sound was echoing in the room.
“H, I, J, K,” She clapped her hands over her ears. It seems like the song was drilling in her head. It kept growing louder and louder. It resonated in her head and grated on her nerves.
“L,M,O,P,”
“You need to stop singing” she told the swaying figure.
The little girl suddenly stopped and turned to look at her with wide eyes.
“When the song ends, you will die.”
She backed away from the leering face and started to run out of the room. She can still hear the song in her head.
“Q, R, S,”
She stumbled down the steps and ran for the door. Grappling with the door, she wretched it open and headed outside in the night.
“T, U, V,”
Running on the path, she tries to put some distance between her and the looming house. Risking looking back, she sees a blond figure silhouetted in the window, waving her hand.
“W, X, Y and Z”
She stumbled and put her hands up to brace her fall. And she fell . . .
III
The sound of the breathing on the bed became strangled. The creature seemed pleased and moved in closer to look at the choking girl. Finally the sounds stopped, so did the breathing. The hand opened up limply and fell by the side of the bed.
The creature slithered away from the bed and moved across the room. Soon, light will dispel the darkness where it resides. The creature slipped out of the window, seemingly taking the harsh darkness that enveloped the room. The moon was high up in the sky now, and stars seem to fade in the graying sky.
The girl lies motionless on the bed. The opened eyes stared at nothing.
-end-
A whiff of air
A windy day
I love the fresh wind
one can feel the air twirling
the air is everything
but, what is it?
A perfume, a smell, a scent
Where is my lovely wind
All is blurred I can't think
No air, I'm drowning
I need my ventoline
I can't find it, I have left it
Somewhere
Somewhere
White, light green
And something on my face
Breathing is hard, there's no more wind
I'm alive, someone is talking
I was so stupid
I know my life is suspended
to that blue bottle
called ventoline
By Cendrine Nugues
What do you see?
When you look at me
Tell me what do you see?
Do you see my smile, my happy face?
Or do you see that I’m different out of place?
I wasn’t always this way – I used to run and dance and play
Now I’m limited, held back by a physical cage – it’s enough sometimes to create a rage! So what do I do?
Do I cry?
Do I scream?
Do I complain?
No I don’t do any of that let me explain
You see I want you to see the person inside
So I take all my pain and keep it inside
I want to make you see a happy me
I want to feel as if I’m free
So next time you look in my direction
Don’t forget a little correction
Don’t look away or start to frown
Give me a smile – turn that frown upside down!
By Vicky Sugarbean
This poem was a leaving present for my youngest sons school when he left at the end of term. Just so it makes sense my youngest has severe Autism and goes to special school.His name is George.
WHO IS GEORGE?
George is a boy, who didnt understand,
Then you came along and took his hand.
George was hurting on the inside,
But you changed all that, now he has pride.
George was naught,George was sad,
George didnt really want to be bad.
George learnt lots, George became aware,
Thanks to you, George started to care.
George can now touch the world outside,
George is grateful youve been his guide.
George loves helping out,with lots of jobs to do,
George can now even go to the loo!
George laughs and smiles, and kisses too,
George wants to say this is all thanks to you.
George wants to stay; he doesnt want to go,
George wants to say he loves you all so.
George will never forget how much you cared,
The laughs and loves,tears we all shared.
But how do you know? How can this be?
The answer is simple- George is me.
Thank you Vicky Sugarbean
One Pair
Shelby heard his laugh every morning when she woke up. The ringing echoed in her ears and made her smile. The sound melted as she looked around the bedroom. The twin-sized air mattress that she shared with her pillow. All of her clothes she had brought, dumped into a pile by the bathroom. The hangers reached from inside the pile, grasping after her each time she passed. She squeezed her eyes shut. The only sound in the room was the steady thumping of the neighbor’s stereo through the wall.
Behind her eyelids, she saw him sleeping next to her. The sunrise at her back spilled orange light across her pillow and onto his face. She could still run her fingers across the white bedsheets dyed by the sun. Her touch to his cheek brought a smile to his dreams.
She turned her eyes towards the window across the room. The light was gone; the room from her memories was gone. The pillow beside her stayed gray. The light still glowed behind the black plastic bags taped to the window. The bags kept out the light but nothing else. Every day, in her mind, she watched that woman step into the life she had lived. Every day she still couldn’t stop her.
The phone beside her buzzed in her ears, driving the images from her mind. “Your phone is ringing, Mommy.”
“Hello,” she muttered.
“Your appointment with your lawyer is this morning, Sissy.”
“Thanks, Mel,” the phone dropped into the folds of the covers as she pulled herself off the bed and dug through the pile of clothes. She checked the bags on the window, looking for a crack of light before she pulled on the wrinkled T-shirt and jeans.
“There,” she whispered. There, now they wouldn’t see her, see the mess she was. She turned the key and watched the faint light fall across the orange carpet. How had she forgotten? The living room of the apartment was like the bedroom. Three boxes lay on the floor. They were what she had picked up as she was leaving. Going back for what she had left would not happen, she had told herself. It all belonged to her now. As she passed the kitchen she looked at the cans of 98 cent soup and bag of bread on the counter. She shook her head. She wasn’t hungry. Each step she took past the kitchen, her feet seemed to sink into the orange carpet a little farther. She stood for a moment bouncing on the floor. If she hit it just right maybe it would swallow her whole, she mused.
She turned towards the door, hearing footsteps on the wooden walkway outside. She leaned in, listening until they had passed by. The beat of the neighbor’s stereo against the wall became the only sound again. Shelby bent to gather her purse and keys. She listened for a moment before she opened the door a crack; her eyes shot to the left, where the footsteps had gone, then back to the right. The keys clattered from her hands as she pulled the door shut behind her. As she bent to pick them up, she nudged and shifted her shoes next to the door, realigning them with how they had been the day before. One foot from the threshold, left shoe first, right one even. After she had stepped back to make sure, she knelt to pull them on.
Behind the row of buildings on the opposite side of the street, light from the sun, rising at her back, poured through the glass doors. The secretary looked up from her polished desk as Shelby pushed the huge door open and picked her way through the seats of the lobby.
“Name?”
“Shelby.”
The woman nodded for her to have a seat in one of the leather chairs.
Shelby looked over the people waiting in the lobby. A woman sat studying a fashion magazine. The woman glanced at the clock and pursed her lips before turning the page. The man across the room from her glared at the television above the woman's head. His dark curly hair and pale blue eyes reminded her of her husband. She looked at her hands clenched in her lap.
As she sank into the chair in the lawyer's office she felt like she was falling into a cloud. If it didn't catch her soon she would fall through to the floor. The lawyer sat in front of a computer.
“I'm going to print this off for you.” Beside him a light blinked and the printer buzzed to life. “Here it is.” He handed Shelby the paper, still warm from the printer. As she read his words, the chair disappeared and she hit the floor.
Shelby looked up at the lawyer behind the wooden desk. The smile she had been greeted with had faded to a grimace. The house, he could have that. Her car? Wasn’t important to her, either. But the children? She pointed to the clause describing full custody of both of their children. Her mouth moved as she traced the lines of words for the lawyer. The lawyer nodded, letting her soak in the words. He tapped the desk with his pen as Shelby read.
“He may have a chance of winning it, too,” he said.
Shelby eased her grip on the paper to trace her fingers over the words again. He could take everything she owned, but not her children. She forced herself to place the paper in her lap. She felt her hands shake as they smoothed out the wrinkles.
“Both children...Adam and Claire...” She tried out the words. “Full custody.”
When Adam was born he suggested she take a break from the stress of having her own career. With everything that she would have to do now that she had a baby, his suggestion had seemed natural. He could support all of them on just his salary. Adam was asleep in her arms; he sat next to her on the couch in the living room folding the laundry. She wanted to see his face again. She wanted to see how he looked as he said those words. He could support them. She could rely on him. She searched and pulled at her memory just to see his face one more time. All she could see was Adam. Eight years after that conversation, Adam and Claire had started school, and he had stopped coming home from work. He stopped taking the family out to spend time together. He stopped playing with the children when he got home from work. He stopped eating dinner with them. Full custody. No visitation rights. He gave her reasons, excuses; the paperwork was backed up; somebody hadn’t finished their work on time, which put him behind; he would have to stay late. Every time, he promised that this was it, this would be the last time it happened. After this, he promised they would do everything as a family again. When the door opened that night—just in time for supper—she understood what he meant.
“He is claiming that you’re no longer mentally stable enough to care for them,” he said. “You might even be,” he paused, but Shelby couldn’t pull her eyes from the paper, “a danger to them.”
Full custody. No visitation rights. “They're words,” she whispered, her thumbs scratching at the page. “They're words, they're just words—they can be erased.” It was her own stupidity for trusting his sweet smile and kind words. When he said he would never abandon her, she believed him. Shelby put the paper in her lap and held her head in her hands. She had raised her children almost alone. Now that he had someone else he wanted them.
She looked up at her lawyer. “I know... I can take care of them,” she paused a moment to sweep a fallen hair from the page down to her feet. “They're my children,” she said looking back towards the other woman behind her desk. “He has barely spent any time with them in years.”
The lawyer met her eyes. “Do you believe you can still take care of them.”
She sat running her fingers over the lines before she answered. One air mattress. The pile of clothes dumped on the floor. Cans of food on the counter. The closet was empty. The kitchen cabinets were empty. The drawers were empty. Layers and layers of black plastic bags taped over the two small windows kept out the eyes and the light. Beside the door, always shut, always locked, were her two shoes. They might have been the only things familiar in the apartment. At home—his house—they had their own rooms, toys and games, a yard to run in, even a new mommy. She ran her fingers over the words. Would he tell them that she had abandoned them? She sat back in the chair. She did not even know her name. What could she have done with her children sitting at the table? She put the paper down on her lap. The light from the lamp cast the shadow of the lawyer's desk over the paper.
“If you’re willing to try we might have a chance to win custody for you. At least some visitation rights. As long as he can’t prove that you're unfit...”
The chair seemed to quiver under her. The carpet swallowed her feet, sucking her down. The words leaped after her; she slammed the paper onto the desk. “I-I-I need to sleep,” she stood a moment looking down at the paper on the desk, “and think some more.” She shook her head. The words still pushed into her ears. She put her back to the desk and the paper and pushed the office door shut on them. She walked through the lobby, watching her shoes as the people watched her. The carpet wrestled with her, pulling her down as she escaped. The glass doors sealed with a thump behind her that wanted to remind her to have a great day. She'd already lost; no one else knew it yet.
She crept along the balcony to her room. Two stories below, lines of cars stared at her. 371, 370, 369. She pulled her keychain out of her pocket and counted through the keys. She glared down at her shoes. They would see her and the mess she was. She pushed the shoes off and arranged them next to the door. “There,” she whispered. There they wouldn’t see her, see the mess she was. She turned the key and watched the faint light fall across the orange carpet. How had she forgotten? There should be a space for her husband’s shoes when he came home from work. Her shoes were next to his. Adam's favorite tennis shoes next to hers. She heard Adam’s voice at her elbow telling her he would pass her and soon they would be as big as his father’s. Last were Claire's little sandals, almost the same size as Adam's. One pair of shoes. Shelby swept her foot across the image in front of her eyes and shoved her shoes back to the edge of the door.
She left herself only enough room to step inside, before the door hid her world from them. She let herself fall onto the carpet next to the three boxes her husband gave her to pack with. She dug through the nearest box, throwing things aside and pushing through to the bottom. She shoved the box over and watched it crash on to the floor, spilling the rest of its contents by her feet. She threw aside crocheting and embroidery projects she had started years ago, clothes she had watched her children outgrow, books she had intended to read but had never finished.
She held up one of her daughter's Easter dresses. Shelby lay back on the floor, holding the dress to her. She covered the grass stain on the white skirt with one hand. She had left him sitting on the park bench making a call to the company on Easter Sunday. She ran through the grass with them holding their baskets and dropping the eggs they found inside. Claire spun and spun in her new dress, watching the fabric billow around her. She and Adam joined in, twirling around and around, until the Earth spun with them and they crashed into each other, bringing them giggling to the ground, too dizzy to stand. She lay on the ground, listening to Adam and Claire giggle next her and watching the clouds spinning above their heads; she felt the smooth, cool grass between her fingers turn back into the ragged carpet of the apartment floor. The dark bulb stared down at her. She sat up to listen to the sound of footsteps and laughter she heard outside.
Scrambling up, she pressed her ear to the door. She smiled as she listened to the child outside. She had played the same games of hide and seek with her children. She followed giggles and thudding footsteps through the house. There was a grinning face peering out from behind the curtains. A glimpse of feet crawling under the tablecloth. What was that? Did she hear someone sneaking up the stairs? But she couldn’t find those footsteps.
“Samuel, get back here!” The mother’s scream’s jarred her out of her memories. She shook her head as she listened to more footsteps outside. The small area of grass surrounded on four sides by parking lots was a dangerous place for children to play. Shelby opened the door and peeked down the balcony for where the child and his mother had gone. She snuck out of the door to nudge her shoes back to where she had put them at the corner of the door. She leapt back as she heard their voices and footsteps on the stairs. Her back rested against the door as she listened to the child cry; children needed a chance to play.
A crack of thunder through the dark room woke her up. She pulled herself out of the bed; it was earlier than she was normally up. She rested her head against the wall, listening to the rain strike the window. She looked up as she heard her phone ringing in the other room. “Your phone is ringing, Mommy.” As he listened to the ring tone Adam and Claire had recorded for her repeat; she put her head back against the wall. The sound beat against her ears. Their voices sounded hollow and unnatural on the phone’s tiny speakers. “Your phone is ringing, Mommy.” She could see the light the phone cast on the ceiling of the living room. She sighed as their voices stopped repeating the one line they had recorded. The call could go to voicemail, she decided only her lawyer called her now. As she shut her eyes the sound came back. “Your phone is ringing, Mommy.” Shelby crawled to her bed and lay down, covering her face and ears with her pillow. The ringing of their voices still reached her, calling again and again. “Your phone is ringing, Mommy. Your phone is ringing.” She threw her pillow towards the sound and staggered after it. She pulled the phone off the charger and jabbed at the buttons.
“Hello,” she muttered into the speaker.
“Sissy?”
“Hey, Mel,” she sank back against the wall.
“I’m going to come over tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”
“You really don’t have to, Mel I’m fine.”
“You’re lying,” Shelby snorted into the phone. “We should go get something to eat.”
“I’d prefer not to leave home.”
“Then I’ll have to make you something.”
“You don’t have to,” Shelby pleaded.
“Oh, stop with that already!” Melanie said.
Shelby set the phone down next to her and looked around her new home. What kind of life could her children expect? She gathered her hair back from her face and turned to the dark light bulb on the ceiling. “What do you think?”
Shelby woke up the next morning to Melanie knocking on the door. She peered out at the dark room around her and reached for her phone to check the time. She dragged herself out of bed and staggered to the door. She blinked in the bright morning light as her sister pulled her into a hug.
“Sissy! Did I wake you up?” Melanie threw her shoes off behind her as she stepped through the door. Shelby stood next to the door, watching her pick through the apartment. She looked back at the jumbled pile of shoes. Before shutting the door, she knelt to push the shoes back where they had been and moved Melanie's into place next to hers.
“Wow, it’s dark in here. And this carpet looks like a calico cat on drugs.” Shelby watched the rooms light up as Melanie wandered around.
“You know, this place has a good amount of closet space, actually.” Shelby peered around the corner where her sister was working. “We need to get you some drawers, though.”
Melanie led the way back to the living room. Shelby shrank back towards the window watching her gather the box again. She stepped forward to pick up Claire’s Easter dress again. Melanie paused to watch her.
“You used to tell me how he never spent time with them.”
“He will now.” Shelby pushed the dress towards her sister.
“Really?” Shelby passed her hand over the cloth, refusing to look at her.
Shelby shook her head.
Her sister finished with the box and pushed it back against the far wall with the other two. She turned to Shelby, who was sitting on the floor with the dress.
“I wish I had some music.” She smiled, but her sister refused to look up. “You know, maybe it’s time you tried to get out of this place.”
“I leave sometimes.”
“Yeah, to go see the lawyer. I mean actually leave, Shelby. Even if it’s just to the store, you know?”
Shelby nodded. She stood up, holding onto the wall to guide herself. She pulled up the blinds and ripped down the plastic bag. Shelby turned to watch Melanie’s reaction. The footsteps and dark figures of people passing by screamed for her to put the bag back. Everyone in the other buildings and the parking lot below turned to watch her now, but she stood where she was.
The tiny patch of grass below reminded her of part of the lawn she had sectioned off for the children. She helped them plant seeds from apples and bananas in the dirt and let them find a new one for their lunch the next day. They had planted helicopters from the maple trees and acorns and tended them as they grew. She rested her head on the glass. The children would water them, but they would be mowed over in a few days.
Melanie sat with Shelby on the floor to eat. Shelby tried to scoot away from the light that poured over her from window as she ate.
Mel patted the carpet next to her. “I’m still worried this thing is going to eat me.”
“Don’t worry. I fed it last night.”
Her sister’s footsteps died away. Shelby opened the door to watch as Melanie’s car left the parking lot. Just one pair of shoes sat on the doorstep. Slumping down in the doorframe to stare back at them, Shelby rubbed at a black on the white leather. Whether they had been her choice or not, they were all she had. One pair of shoes.
After looking down at them for a few more moments, she slammed the door and threw herself against it. If they wanted in, in to invade her life, know the secret she had kept from them, she would put one solid thing in between them.
The window. She gasped. Another thing she had forgotten. They could see everything. Abandoning the door, she ran to the kitchen. Where did she put them? Where? Where? Where? Cleaners Melanie had stored under the sink flew past her head as she dug for the black plastic bags and duct tape. Once she was back at the window with the bags tucked under her arm and roll of tape around her wrist, the bottles had been scattered farther.
There. Next to the door. The bags dropped to the floor. It was already too late. She sank down under the window, her head cradled against her arm.
“He can’t prove I’m an unfit mother,” she whispered. They didn’t hear. “He can’t,” she repeated louder. Still nothing. “He can’t prove I’m an unfit mother,” if they didn’t hear maybe she still had a chance. Her hand strayed towards the doorknob. As she stretched for it, ready to kick them out of apartment, her eyes met the bows on the strings glaring at her, following her as backed away from them, into the great mouth of the orange carpet.
By Sarah Whanger
