F.A.C.E.S

F.A.C.E.S

A Short Story

     I watched her walk down the street. I watched her hips sway and her shoulders roll. She caught my eye on the day I moved into the house diagonal from hers. Since then every morning when she began her morning walk I watched from my kitchen window.

     The first thing I noticed about her was how beautiful she was. Her hair was thick and red; she held herself with good posture and moved about gracefully. I haven’t talked to her or even seen her up close yet. I imagine what her face will look like the structure of it, the very fine details imprinted on it. I wonder what her different facial expressions might be, how she will look when joyful, upset or scared. That is my favorite to think about, the face of fear the one I live for.

 

Two Weeks Later:

I watched her walk to my house. Sara, the red head walked to my home whispering assurances to herself. She was getting closer straightening her dress along the way. This was our third date and I had invited her to dinner at my place. I knew the details of her face now. Her brown eyes that were constantly searching, her high cheek bones that framed her natural beauty and her lips so full so lovely.

     I had also had the chance to study some of her expressions. Her whole face would light up if she were happy, her brow furrowed when she was worried and she would bite her lips when stressed. Tonight was special to me; tonight I would see my favorite expression of all. I opened the door to find Sara beaming but nervous. I smiled as I brought her in and led her to my Oak Wood dining table. She sat down and proceeded to ask me worthless fill in questions while I finished setting the table and laying out the food.

     All through the meal I watched her face change as the topics shifted from one to another. When we talked of her work at the bank she looked stressed and fed up. When things moved to dinner she seemed pleased. I could hardly keep focused on our meaningless dinner talk my mind kept traveling to thoughts of dessert.

     After dinner I led her to the living room where I had chilled and drugged champagne. After she drank two sips I would have to wait only ten minutes to fully enjoy my night. I could tell she was enjoying herself; smiling, flirting, laughing. That was the best part. They all really enjoyed themselves. Women were so naïve and stupid. I enjoyed playing with them it was my favorite form of entertainment.

     I was counting down the minutes when her eyes became filmy and red. I excused myself to go prepare for my fun. I grabbed the tight rope and thin bladed box cutter from the linen closet. When I came back Sara was passed out on the couch.  I was really hoping she wouldn’t be too heavy. I laid my tools down and picked her up and carried her to the guest room. In the guest room I had a special metal bed that was custom made for my methods of restrainment. I laid her on the bed and went back for the rope and cutter. I was whistling on my way back almost salivating at the thought of her face. That was my dessert. That expression she would have when she realized her death was looming. I nearly skipped down the hallway just thinking of it all.

     When I got to the bedroom I saw Sara had rolled off the bed. I laughed in delight.  She was starting to come awake. I leaned to pick her up and she surprised me. I’ve never been surprised. She flipped over grabbing my throat and struggling to get on top of me. At first I was in shock but then I started to laugh. I laughed so hard my eyes got watery. She was drugged and a woman! How could she possibly think that she could overpower me? Stupid women! I kneed her hitting her between the legs. She groaned in pain falling off of me. I rolled on top of her still laughing. I realized then I had dropped my blade. She…Sara had it. Panic... I was too late. She swung around her arm with the blade slicing open the left side of my throat. I laid down dying. I was dying quickly, the cut had been deep and crimson blood was spewing everywhere. Sara backed into the corner crying where she watched me die. In the last moments of my life I got what I wanted, what I had thirsted for all night. In that corner Sara’s face was stricken with fear.

 

 

 

Author: Margaret Verece

Looking For Alaska - A Book Review

 

Looking For Alaska

By: John Green

 

 

I just read Looking For Alaska about a week ago. I had no idea what the book was going to be about it when I picked it up. I didn't even read the back. My best friend said it was a book that I absolutely had to read and I'll admit it sat on a shelf for a year after she told me about it. I finally decided to read it one night and now I'll be suggesting to you that "you absolutely have to read this book."

 

This book discusses a vast array of topics including friendship, sex, and morality. The first thing I think of while reading this book is the web of feelings I had as a teenager and how everything was dire back then. When you're a teenager everything means more. You feel everything with more passion, you're vehement in your endeavors, and you're fucking stubborn. As a teenager you truly believe that no one knows how you feel. No one could possibly understand you and in turn you feel alone. This is a common theme with all of the characters but especially Alaska.

 

Alaska is the friend that offers advice on all of her friends personal issues yet ironically refuses to disclose her own issues. Throughout the book she seems impulsive always doing things without thinking and to Miles that makes her a beautiful disaster. While reading this book I recognized Alaska's need to do things without thinking about them first because if she stopped to think she might dwell on the past. Dwelling on the past would throw her into a depression. Alaska is the perfect example of someone who hasn't confronted her issues and that to me is the main point of this book.

 

“You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.”  

 

One of the main themes of the book is the labyrinth of suffering. Alaska asks Miles how do you get out of the labyrinth. Eventually Alaska decides that to get out of the labyrinth you have to go straight and fast. However, here is my opinion on the matter. In order to get out of the labyrinth you have to face what is keeping you there. For Alaska that is a childhood memory, a deep and sorrowful regret. In order to escape that pain, that feeling of suffering forever you have to face your pain and move forward. In order to resolve your issues you must deal with them and that is something that both Alaska Young and myself have trouble with apparently.

 

You'll have to read the book to find out if she ever makes it out of the labyrinth and I highly suggest you do. John Green does an amazing job with this book. He makes you asks some of life's hardest questions and makes you re-evaluate your opinion of life, love, and death.

 

What is your labyrinth? Do you think you can escape it? Do we ever really escape it or do we learn to live within it peacefully? Is the labyrinth something created by events in our life or do we create it for ourselves? These are the questions you should ask yourself while reading Looking For Alaska.

 

Well what are you waiting for.... Get to reading

 

- Maggie V

 



Behind The Scenes: Life Through Shadowed Eyes

If you met me on the street you might say to yourself that girl is happy and you wouldn't be wrong. However... it took me a long time to get where I am today. In my book Life Through Shadowed Eyes you will find a lot of pain and loss because that was my life for the majority of my childhood. I came from a tumultuous background. A drug addicted mother and an abusive father. I struggled with a lot of terrible things as a child and often times my poetry reflects those feelings.

One thing to remember when reading my poetry is that even though it may seem dark and without hope it is the complete opposite. For me writing poetry was my only hope of sorting through my feelings and growing into a stronger person. In a lot of my earlier work I am completely lost. I was a guarded child and did not easily discuss my troubles so instead I wrote them down. Poetry for me is therapeutic which is why it often times seems sorrowful. However, in poems like "Freedom For The Caged" or "My Strength" you will find hope rising.

"The chains begin to fall

As your words are spoken

Never could I imagine

One could love the broken"

 

 

This is the last stanza of "Freedom For The Caged" which to me is my favorite poem I've written. In this poem I am finally realizing that I can love and be loved without fear. That was a very important milestone for me as a young adult. Growing up with my parents made me think of myself as worthless until one day I realized that it wasn't me who was worthless it was the way they treated me that was worthless. It was worthless to hate myself because of how my parents chose to treat their daughter. And so I became a stronger person. That is what Life Through Shadowed Eyes is trying to convey. The fact that life can be full of pain and loss but it can also be full of love and hope. To me that is the point of life to grow from the painful memories and become a more loving individual because of them.

 

"You were given this life, because you are strong enough to live it." - Unknown

 

-Maggie V

Welcome To Bleeding From My Pen

Welcome! I'm Margaret Verece (Maggie) the writer of this blog and I'm here to tell you a little bit about myself and what you might find here. First and foremost I'm a writer. I love coffee and wine sometimes within the same hour. I love food and fashion. Reading is my favorite escape. I'm a bit of a sports buff. I have big eyes which I'm oddly proud of. I believe in music on its deepest level. I am obsessed with pinterest and making things I have no business trying to make. Also I love old movies. I'm in love with Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe. I'm extremely dichotomous and a bit insane.

With all of that said I've created this blog as a way to share some of my writing and express my unwanted opinions. From poetry, short fiction, and book reviews you will find it all here!

Since I was a little girl I've been in love with books. From Tom Sawyer to the Bronte sisters I read everything I could get my hands on. I guess that's where my love of writing began. It started with poetry. I would read Poe, Whitman, and Woolfe anything my grandfather had in his library. I realized that these poets were telling the secrets of their souls in these books and that intrigued me. I was never too good at talking about how I felt and then one day I picked up a pen. I wrote my first poem and I knew that this was my escape. Writing gave me a way to express everything from my feelings toward my parents, my love for nature, and the secrets of my soul. At first I wrote poetry for therapeutic means only and then I read The Face by Dean Koontz (which I highly suggest). It was one of the first modern fictions I had read. I read the book in one night at the age of thirteen and my life was changed forever. The way he made you jump at the suspense, the detail in the descriptions of people, and the emotions that I physically felt for the characters. That book is the reason I decided to start writing. I thought if I could one day make someone feel the way I felt reading that book then my life would be complete.


I started writing short fiction and very soon after I realized that I had a true passion for the thriller genre. I read once that to be a good writer you have to read a lot and so I did. I grabbed every Koontz novel I could find and when I ran out of those I started reading John Sanford, Tami Hoag, Stephen King etc. I read anything and everything thriller related. I fell in love with the genre and soon I fell in love with writing. I would write short stories for my family and friends and to much of my surprise they thought I was good!


I started my first novel when I was fifteen and soon I'd written twelve chapters of a real live book! I couldn't believe it, I had nearly finished an entire book. And then I did the unthinkable..... I threw it away. My book, my life, my twelve chapters I tossed it. I'd get into why but that would take far too long and would make me look like a schmuck. The point is I made a terrible mistake and I was so offended by my own stupidity that I stopped writing for nearly three years. I didn't pick a pen up again until I was in college and even then it didn't feel the same. I had lost a part of myself. My first novel and I'd just thrown it away. After a lot of writer's block and a lot of shame I finally realized that the only way to forgive myself was start it over. And so that's where I'm at I'm writing my original first novel again. In the meantime I'm also working on two other novels, several short stories, and a shit ton of poetry so I'll have plenty for you to read! What can I say...I have a crazy imagination!


I hope you enjoy my blog and I also encourage you to check out my book of poetry on amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SNV015M


-Maggie V