Truth

Life throws you curve balls. Things never work out how you think they will--and that's not always a bad thing. Sometimes it's actually a really good thing. Someone told me a few years ago that "God gives us what we want or something better." I really think that's true. I also think that we need to let Him. He knows what's best for us, and we really don't. Trust is a hard thing to do, but it's really important.


I never really bare (bear?) my testimony, but I will here. It's the same thing I posted on facebook, because that's what it is. God has not, does not, or will not ever abandon His children. The true gospel is restored upon the earth in these latter days. The Book of Mormon is truth and scripture. Families are Eternal. Jesus is the Christ.


Now a note on September 11th.

The only thing I remember from that day was wondering if my dad was going to be okay, because he was deployed. I don't think I really understood what had happened. In between I saw pictures and learned what happened--even wrote a research paper on it, but it still never hit me. Ten years later I watch the footage of the attacks for the first time. Now I understand. One nation under God. Indivisible.

‎"Through blurred eyes we find the strength and courage to soar beyond the moment. We look to the future knowing we can never forget the past. God bless America."


Don't forget--every day is Independence Day.

My Book

So, I'm writing a book. I've written a book, but I've given up all attempts to edit, type, and get it published. I wrote it my freshman year of high school. It was pretty dang good, if I do say so myself (which I do). I was in that 14/15 year old girl stage, so it is about love and werewolves. I wrote it a long time ago, before Twilight became a big thing, but post-Twilight, vampires and werewolves have kinda gotten overplayed in my opinion, so Crimson Regret (Cool name, huh?) will sit on my bookshelf for a long time.


I've started a few books since that one was written, but I haven't finished any of them. They are all in a folder that I also have sitting here. I used to pick one up every now and then and add a little to it when I had a good idea for it, but other than that they are usually untouched. 


The book I am working on now is (in my opinion) the best idea I've had yet. The idea (I'm going to give it away, yes, but only vaguely) is that every country in the world has turned against the United States. It is written a few years in the future, the main character is a girl, and I am writing it in first person, present tense...which is freakin hard! There are a lot of details that I have worked out that I am not going to reveal to you all, but I WILL post a little sample of the book. 


If anyone has title suggestions, leave a comment telling me what it is:) I am definitely open to ideas!

I suppose this is Hell. It has to be. Tortured screams of pain, both physical and emotional, are the only things that I can hear. There is fire burning everywhere, consuming everything, resulting in thick smoke so black that it takes me a full minute to recognize the things around me. Hell looks a lot like downtown.

A ringing in my ears gradually starts to grow louder until I can no longer hear the howling of the people on the streets. The ringing becomes so intense that I clap my hands over my ears in pain. I hold them there for a long moment until the sound fades and is replaced by an uncomfortable deafness. The world around me is almost completely muted and the sensation makes me feel dizzy. When I move my hands away from my face and back to my lap, my palms are covered in blood.

My lungs throb in my chest and I give a few hard coughs, then shudder as I vomit the entire contents of my stomach, which isn't much. The vile taste of acid fills my mouth and I spit a few times, even after I am done throwing up, to try to rid myself of the taste. I quickly cover my burning nose and mouth with my tattered, grimy shirt, trying to get a cleaner breath as I blink my eyes tightly closed. The smoke stings and causes my eyes to water, making it even harder to see. As a dull ache begins to set over my whole body, I become more conscious of reality. I am flooded with a mix of emotions that I cannot immediately place or explain. Relief, anger, fear, and sadness? It is such an odd combination that I do not understand it until I see the building in front of me. What remains of an old brick flower shop is barely recognizable. The bottom half is almost completely rubble, and the top floor of the building is gone. The loft where my family lived. My home. Gone.

Yes, this is Hell. But this is also really downtown. I am alive...at least for now. I know that staying here means certain death. I know that another air raid will soon follow the first, and I know that I may very well suffocate or bleed to death if I don't find help. But I don't have the strength or the will to move. No sense of urgency forces me to get to safety. So I lay my head down on the cobblestone sidewalk on the side of the road and close my eyes, drifting far away from the graveyard around me.