A Book of Inspirations by shylaboose2319

A Book of Inspirations “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart” Helen Keller By: Shyla Boose

Table of ContentsÂ Winning

A Ride of Sadness

A Bunch of Poems

Microfiction

Twitter Fiction

Authors writing

Christmas Story (added addition)

Winning I was fighting for my life. Kicking, punching, doing all I could to win. I was fighting an internal battle so harsh that it changed me. I was different and I didn’t like it. It was as if my world had been turned upside down; something had died inside of me. It was my pancreas. We planned this trip to Mexico for months now. That’s when the symptoms began to develop. I got extremely fatigued, I would casually fall asleep in class only to be woken up a few seconds later when my head crashed onto my desk. Gallons of water seemed to find it’s way down my throat every five minutes, which caused my bladder to feel almost as if it would burst every ten. It had even become hard to focus in class, when two days before departure I couldn’t seem to slow my breathing. It felt as if I had just ran a marathon. My lungs felt overused forty-eight hours before and another twenty-four hours after arriving in Mexico. My stomach convulsed every time the plane made any sudden movements. My throat was dry and my heart rate wouldn’t slow. My mom sat next to me, encouraging me to drink several glasses of sprite. As the hours went on my condition worsened on the plane and in the car. It was like this for another three hours before arriving at my grandmother’s house covered in empty soda bottles. Even after being there before, I was still astounded by the beauty. This building, made of stone, was alive with an array of lagartija, lizards. The flora that surrounded was bright and vivid with colors of red, orange, and yellow. Even being as sick as I was, you could feel an aura of relaxation and friendliness that seemed to welcome you inside. I greeted everyone and then headed right for the room where my brothers and I would be staying. Our plan was to stay for an entire week. We left in three days. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom. My mom says I was saying crazy things like, “If we don’t hurry, I’m going to run.” My world became a blur. The hospital is one that I remember clearly, like it just happened yesterday. It was three floors, one nurse, and one doctor who parked his car in the lobby and left at night. The bed was harder and stiffer than anything I’ve slept on before, or so I remember. The doctors say I was within an hour of death. I was in a semi-coma for at least twenty-four hours. I finally started gaining full consciousness by the second day at the hospital. They forced me to eat soup and drink tea.

They even wanted me to eat cucumbers. I spit them out, or at least that’s what the nurse told me. Diabetes. They told me I had Type one Diabetes. That’s the day my life changed and the day my pancreas actually seemed dead. I didn’t believe it at first. I refused to accept it even after being stuck at the hospital for another three days after arriving back home. Especially after the doctors here diagnosed me with it as well. Diabetes controlled my entire life. It caused me to stop focusing on school and my grades dropped. I lost a few friends and worst of all, I lost myself. I didn’t know who I could be until I met a blonde haired, extremely happy young women. Her name was Marissa, a type one like me. She changed everything. I saw how she lived her life. She didn’t let diabetes live her life for her. She owned it. So, I owned it too. My life became mine again, once I got myself together, and ran at it head on. I threw punches, one after another, annihilating it to a simple pulp. In the end it was just me. The diabetes was still there but it was me who controlled it now. I was the one on top. I knew if I could beat something as terrible as this, then I could do anything. In the end, I realized two amazing things. I had won and I am still winning today.

A Ride of Sadness It was quiet for a few hours, the only sound being the rumble of the black, 2015 Dodge Ram truck. The luggage in the back bounced around, crumpling the bag of snacks Tanya had stashed. She snored lightly and James sighed, she had been sleeping for quite a while and he was already feeling drowsy. James reached down and grabbed the can of soda from the cupholder and took a small sip before gently resting it on his leg with his other hand on the steering wheel. He was a kind soul who felt bad for waking Tanya, though he knew he had to so he could rest. He pulled over to the side of the small road and shifted the gear stick into park, all while tapping Tanya on the shoulder. Her eyes opened hesitantly, crusted with dried tears. She loved my younger sister. When he told her about the four wheeling accident, she was shocked at first before the waterfall fell. She looked at me with sad eyes. “Do you want to drive? Or do you want to stop here and rest?” James asks. Tanya shook her head. “Let’s stay here for the night.” James knew she hated driving at night so he didn’t argue. Grabbing the blankets from the backseat, pulling them out from under the suitcases, he made his way to the back of the truck and began making a small bed out of pillows, sweatshirts, and quilts. Tanya finished changing from her jeans into sweatpants and crawled in the back, choosing a spot to rest. He walked around the truck, locking it, and began making his way around back. He stopped for a moment and a single tear flew down his cheek but as quickly as it came, it was gone. James knew he had to be strong for Tanya, so he hopped on the back and lay next to his girlfriend. She curled into him, pulling the blankets up and over them both. James wrapped his arms around her tight and very quickly was she asleep.

He closed his eyes and wondered how to tell her that it wasn’t just his sister who was killed: it was also his dad who he found out about today right before they left for Los Angeles. He knew he had to tell her. Tanya snored softly beside him. James turned his head and placed a kiss on her forehead before letting his eyes slide closed. “I’ll tell her tomorrow” was his final thought before drifting off to sleep.

A Bunch of Poems (free verse and formal put together) Black Raven White dove gone, Black raven flies. Takes you under wing and makes you better, Like mother to son Or friend that is no longer.

Warm Warm blankets Like a snuggled cat Warming the heart of those who observe A cool breeze wisps in Making the air chilly and crisp But warm under the warmth of the blanket Eyes closed Whiskers twitch with comfort And happiness This is warmth and Soft like Warm Blankets

To The Tune of Love A whisper of a thousand words; Flying through the night; Each spoken syllable, a glimmer of hope; With you by my side. A guitar plays in the distance; Strumming a small tune; Bringing much joy, predicting whats to come; A future coming soon.

On the grand stage they sit; Hear a piano ping; Smiles all around, humming abroad; A pretty song to sing. Then the sound of the drums clash; Portraying a steady beat; Giving me life, the music begins; We silently take a seat. The conductor and the symphony; The sound hovers above; You take my hand, I kiss your lips; To the tune of love.

Gone The pain in me I give to thee. The hurt I feel I cannot deal. My heart and soul Put into a bowl Can be shattered, Or squashed like batter. I see stars above And it feels like love But it is not love, It is a dove. Flying high in the sky Waving its wing, goodbye. A bullet stray Love goes away Saying one last goodbye Love now die.

Soon Watching from the Shadows as I see the

Stars above Whispering to me Waiting for the chance to Be. To be. To be. To be great. But not yet. Soon. Soon.

Microfiction Microfiction: 200 words It was quiet for a few hours, the only sound being the rumble of the black, 2015 Dodge Ram truck. The luggage in the back crumbled the snacks Tanya had stashed. She had been sleeping for a while and he was drowsy. James was a kind soul who felt bad for waking Tanya, although he knew he had to so he could rest. He pulled over to the side of the small road and shifted the gear stick into park, all the while tapping Tanya on the shoulder. She loved my younger sister. When he told her about the four wheeling accident, she was shocked and she looked at me with sad eyes. “Do you want to drive? Or do you want to stop here and rest?” James asks. “Let’s stay here for the night.” James knew she hated driving at night so he didn’t argue. Grabbing the blankets from the backseat, he began making a small bed out of pillows and sweatshirts. Tanya changed into sweatpants and crawled to bed of the truck. Tanya snored beside him. James turned his head and kissed her forehead, letting his eyes close. She was his final thought before drifting off to sleep.

Twitter Story Twitter: 140 characters or lessÂ My fingers flew across the keys. A beautiful array of sounds filled the auditorium. I pounded on the keys, crescendoing into the big finale. And when I finished, the crowd exploded...literally.

In this Open Campus Course I have learned many different things. I learned that to write a short story, you must be able to break down the important parts, the parts you want to reader to know, and put it together. My micro fiction and twitter story are two examples of this. I also learned how to put together dialogue to move a story along. My fiction piece is an example of this. I used dialogue between the two characters to continue to put the story forward and create suspense. In this course, I also learned the different types of poetry: free verse, hicu, lymeric, and many others. I used my previous knowledge and experience in poetry for this. My five poems are proof of this. This course has furthered my enjoyment of writing. I have been working on a Christmas story ever since beginning this course. I have included it into the end of this portfolio. It is not finished for I have been unable to work on it as much lately. This course has taught me so much from writing dialogue and learning about antagonist and protagonist to writing several different forms of poetry.

A Christmas Story Written by: Shyla M. Boose Everything about the holidays annoyed widowed twenty-seven year old Sophia Wither. In her opinion, the Christmas trees are a waste of time to assemble and a hassle to clean up after; all those pine needles cluttering up the floor angered her so. The shopping isn’t worth all the stress of spending her money on people she rarely sees except on the holidays. The Christmas music with all the people caroling is enough to make her scream. And the Christmas lights, oh how Sophia despises the Christmas lights; they use too much electricity, racking her bills up way past her salary intake. But what she hates the most is the spirit in the air. All the cheeriness and laughter, the constant joy, all of it just makes her cringe, and as she trudged down fifth Avenue, she mumbled harsh words under her breath. It was Christmas Eve morning and, like every year, she was on her way to the convenience store, planning to purchase some last-minute gift certificates. She shied away from all the signs of happiness around her: children were gathered, estimating the amount of presents that would be stored underneath the tree; adults were whispering amongst themselves giving insight of their plans for the day. Sophia could hear the pinging of Christmas bells along with the hum of musical jingles in the distance. With one final unintelligent word, she pushed through the doors, the little bell above her tinkling slightly. The store was a splash of red and green, every shelf containing something Christmas-y. Finding what she was searching for, Sophia ambled over to the counter where she shoved the gift certificates at the cashier who’s name-tag read Brian. “Last-minute Christmas gift?” he asked. Sophia nodded, anxious to get back home and watch the Grey’s Anatomy re-run that was to begin in an hour.

Brian took the certificates and rang up her total. “That would be seven dollars and fifteen cents.” He smiled and pulled out a small, red box containing a ‘secret chocolate’. “We are giving these away for free. Take it and give it to your husband or – you look young – boyfriend.” Sophia just shook her head. “My husband passed away five years ago. I don’t need the chocolates,” she said monotonously. “Oh, I am so sorry. Here, take the chocolates anyway. I’m sure you’ll find someone special to give it to.” She took the chocolate and shoved it in her purse along with the certificates and handed over the money. Brian gave her the change and said, “There’s a small Christmas ceremony at the church a few blocks from here. You should go,” he paused before stating that he would also be there. Sophia nodded her head with fake agreement and turned. As the door began to swing shut behind her, Brian called out, “Merry Christmas!” It was a little past eleven in the morning and already the sky looked a bit darker than before she arrived earlier. The wind blew harshly in her face, burning her cheeks to a red, frosty glow. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, pulled her hood up, bowing her head and pushing onward in the direction of her parked car which was a few streets down. After a few minutes of walking, she glanced up at her surroundings, realizing that the street was empty. Somehow, she had wandered onto a road she had never seen before. Sophia turned on her heel and quickly shuffled back in the other direction, expecting to return to where she first started. She figured that she must have taken a wrong turn but after another few minutes ticked by, she still hadn’t reached her original destination. With a panicked hand, Sophia reached in her pocket for her cell phone but quickly found that it was dead. Angrily, she dropped her phone back into her pocket and stomped on. After what felt like hours, she decided to stop at a bench and try to regain her composure. Sophia placed her purse on her lap and took a steady breath. The thought of her being stuck here worried her. Obviously, to her knowledge, there wasn’t anyone around to help and she had no

immediate family to come looking for her. She had no children, a deceased husband, and parents who were long gone. Sophia pulled out the box with the mystery chocolate and turned it over and over in her hands, giving her something to do. Sophia closed her eyes, knowing at some point there has to be someone to come around whom she could ask for assistance, but for now she decided to rest. Suddenly, Sophia felt a tug from under hr hand. Her eyes flew open in time to see a somewhat large man dressed in black wearing a ski-mask running away with her purse. “Stop!” she screamed, springing up from the bench. Before she could even begin chasing after him, the guy was barely visible in the distance. Her purse was gone. Sophia threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Oh! What’s the use!?” she paused for a minute and sat down before letting her head fall into her hands and mumbling, “I’m lost.” Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around she saw a young boy, probably about eight or nine years old. His hear was a brown greasy mess and he had dirt smudges on his face. His clothes were ripped and faded, two sizes too short for his body. For some unknown reason, a small feeling of sadness washed over her at the sight of the boy. But as quickly as it arrived, the feeling left. “What do you want?” she said with obvious disgrace. The boy didn’t seem fazed by her harsh tone for he said, “Sorry to bother you, miss, but I was wondering if you happen to have anything to eat?” His body frame seemed extremely thin underneath his outerwear. His arms were scrawny, containing no sign of muscle anywhere. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small bag of cookies she had for later. Tossing them to him, she asked, “Where are your parents?” The boy ripped open the bag and devoured the first cookie within seconds. Between bites, he said, “I don’t have any,” he paused, taking another bite, before continuing with, “These are really good cookies. I haven’t had any since I was four.”

“Since you were four?” Sophia asked puzzled. She began to wonder how long he has been without parents and, by the looks of it, without shelter. Her curiosity got the best of her and she asked just that. “I don’t remember my parents. I just know I used to have some. I think the last time I saw them was when I was three. Since then, I have been living out here.” He proceeded to point in the opposite direction and explained that he lived a few minutes away in an abandoned building. After a few minutes of silence, except for the sound of his rapid chewing, he asked, “So, what brings you to this part of the city?” “I’m not suppose to be here. I must have gotten lost on my way back to my car. I don’t suppose you know how to get back?” He finished the last cookie, licked his lips and fingers, and then replied, “As a matter of fact I do know how to get back. I’ll take you there!” He gave her a big, friendly smile. The boy motioned for her to follow him and he began walking. Sophia quickly organized herself began after him. As they were walking, she noticed he was shivering. “You must be cold,” she said. Before she knew what she was doing, Sophia pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around the boy. Luckily she had a heavy sweater on to protect her from the chill air. After a few minutes of walking, she noticed that the surroundings were changing and the sky was getting darker. With all that had happened, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it to the Christmas family gathering that was sure to have started already. She looked at the little boy who was walking slightly in front of her. She didn’t know it then but deep inside her she felt a small tug towards the child and felt pity toward him. Realizing she never got his name, Sophia asked for it. “Johnny. What’s yours?” “Sophia Wither,” she replied. “Wither. Wither. Sophia Wither. Is that your last name?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah that’s my last name. What’s yours?” Maybe if she got the last name she could help him find his parents. But just like everything that day, nothing could be easy. “I don’t have a last name...at least I don’t think I do.” Sophia felt the urge to hug Johnny but she decided against it, instead asking, “About how much farther do we have to go?” Johnny thought for a moment before saying, “About 2 miles. Maybe more.” Sophia wanted to cry. She was starting to get cold and hungry. If only she had her purse she could see if there was a place to get food, but she had no money. A few more chilly minutes went by and Sophia got more anxious with each step. Up ahead she saw a large building that looked like a church. To her knowledge, churches were almost always unlocked for people to enter the chapel. Shelter meant warmth for Sophia and she quickly ushered Johnny and herself toward the door. She pushed the large doors open to music, people, warmth, and the delightful smell of food. With a sigh of relief, she pulled Johnny towards the table containing multiple desserts and multiple cups of coffee. To her shock, she had the urge to get Johnny warm first instead of herself. Sophia took a cup of coffee and filled a plate full off food including cookies, a cupcake, two small donuts, and a piece of chocolate. She could feel people staring at Johnny as I walked him toward a seat and handed him the food and drink before heading back to get myself a share.