Car Wrecks Cause Problems

“Wham!” My car slammed into the white truck in front of me. I had just watched the red Mustang coming up behind my green Mazda Protégé.  Even attempting to tap the breaks, I had a feeling of dread the moment before it happened, and as soon as it did, my head began to ache. Luckily that was all that was wrong so I knew, and the Mustang driver came to knock on my window. I slowly rolled down my window, not believing that I had just gotten into yet another car wreck.
Asking if I was okay the driver looked me up and down accusingly. He then asked me if I could call 911, or if I had yet. I dialed the phone number I had been taught since preschool, yet feared to dial. The operator picked up and I went on to tell her where the wreck had happened. She said someone would be there soon and hung up. When the police arrived I began to worry if the accident had been my fault. The officer told us to move the three vehicles to a car wash that was just across the road. Then the questioning began. The officer asked if anyone was injured and no one said anything. She took our information and said I could leave because the accident had not been my fault.
A few hours later my neck began to hurt. I was living in a college dorm, in Statesboro at the time, so I went to my friend’s dorm room. We assumed that it was just a case of whiplash and I would be fine in a few days. My neck hurt for a week or two, and the pain when I tried to sleep was the most miserable pain ever. Heating pads and Tylenol seemed to get rid of the pain, though.
Two years later, due to the car wreck, and 8 hours on a hospital table…
12:25pm: I don’t know the date but today is Monday. As each day passes the pain should and I believe will eventually pass away. The days have become a blended mass of confusion. I don’t remember what time anything happened. Surgery was Tuesday. Mom spent the night with me in room (447) each night and took good care of me. We could have left on Wednesday, but I didn’t feel strong enough yet. The pain was just too intense to handle, so I cried. Mom held my hand. There were tornados that night.
I became allergic to my medicines that night and I also started throwing everything up, prune juice and all. I couldn’t keep any food down. The changed pain medicines three times- until something finally worked.
I slept from Thursday 2pm until time to go home on Friday. When I did get home again I threw up as soon as I got out of the car. I went to my bed and mom got me some medicine for pain and nausea.
I found out last night why she stopped giving me the nausea pill- they made me sick too. Saturday was a blur- I think I slept, refused to eat, and went to the bathroom. Sunday was better, my new motto- I am going to beat this, and God along with my family will help me, because I can not do it alone. Sunday I walked around the house, ate real food, and watched movies. I sat up right.
The ringing/echoing never ends. If I sit up, I will get a headache, but while I am laying down my stomach and back ache. I can lie on my side, either one, but must be careful.
I don’t remember all of the people who said they spoke to me on the phone, but I do remember being surrounded by love and prayers and angels each night.
I do grow stronger each day, today I got up and walked to Mom’s room without her coming to me. I didn’t sleep last night, and although my medicine causes me to drift to sleep, I think my body is saying, “Enough, wake up!”
I then ate and started to write. Laying around for days doing nothing does that to a person. Then I took a shower with Momma’s help, because I am still too weak to be alone.
I would love to log on to the computer and tell the world I am perfectly fine from Facebook, but I am not able to do so until someone can help me reach the computer. Mom left to go to the library so I shall await her return, to ask what I should do with all of this conscious free time.
I am tired now…

Pick the Top 3

I am about to add many poems to this blog, I need a vote of the best ones. If you don't mind leaving a comment telling me which are the best that would be most helpful! I know some of them may need some work, and some of them may directly relate to my faith.

Thank you readers!!

Poem #1

The red unworn hoodie, laying still awaiting a warm body. 

The letters are fading and cracked

Tattered holes where drawstings were once attached.

Folded in half, a settled form, awaiting its owner.

Poem #2

As winter fades and the sun begins to shine again, 

there is a new glory found simply in the air,

that clings to everything, 

including the very essence of life itself. 

In that first moment one can truly see the world as it is meant to be.

Poem #3

My life is like a red red rose.

My love is a red red rose.

Poem #4

Protective of those I love,

Defender of my beloved.

Bold and fearless,

of all but the King.

I am a lioness.

Poem #5

Over the tide, beyond the rainbow, and past the stream.

It comes like a monster

among the city, a ghost in a superstitious house.

the storm is coming.

Poem #6

Skin the color of snow

Strength of a great typhoon

Heart of an iceberg melting into artic snow.

Poem #7

Th one who carries the flame is like a guardian in the night. 

He is the King's knight.

He brings joy to all those he loves,

    As if He is the sun.

Poem #8

As she looked down at the water

Her heart pounded harder.

The fury growing

The water proposing

Her death awaited her.

But what occurred 

Wasn't death at all

It was God's call

He seemed to have stopped her

Short of the fall.

Why he did love her.

She was sure.

It was him who sent the boy to catch her fall.

Poem #9

Love is like coffee

Slow when you first begin to drink

But the more you drink

Faster it goes, and your love grows.

Poem #10

Next time you’ll notice the zombies walking all around campus.

Earbuds in, not paying much attention to people or cars around them.

Completely zoned out.

Occasionally they take a look at their phones,

Checking the time or texting,

That’s when you know.

As they cross in front of traffic or pass in front of bikes,

Almost as if they are looking for a near death experience today. 

Poem #11

My chest feels it will explode

any minute.

Maybe it is panic, maybe it is something more.

Rushing flashes of light

around me as I gaze upwards.

Stiff neck, but muscles not straining

Uncomfortable laying still, pushed to stay not by choice

The peculiar green and pink colors fly around.

Strange hurtful tubes are forced into my body

Creating new openings created in appendages with sharp stabs

Shouts of “Move, he’s coding” fill the air above me.

What does that mean?

The random faces try to reassure me with crinkles of sincerity around the eyes.

Where am I? 

Invitation

Good Evening to all of my readers...
I suppose I did leave you with a mysterious man watching the young woman yesterday. That shall be the writing prompt for today.

Never noticing the man sitting across the room, she sat on the overstuffed couch and folded a few shirts while contemplating getting up to get a cup of the coffee she smelled. She walked through the living room to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Adding creamer from the white double door-ed refrigerator, she enjoyed the calm of being in her favorite room. 


Peeking around the corner, the man cleared his throat and the coughed once. She jumped in place, shaken by the unexpected sound. Her coffee burnt her hand and she had to rush to the sink. All the while catching a glimpse of the intruder. 


"Who are you and what do you want?" 


"Well, no need to be rude. I am just the next door neighbor who came to introduce himself to the pretty girl next door."


"Cause that's not creepy at all." She mumbled under her breath.


"Your mother told me to just wait here and you would be done shortly, so here I am. Your siblings have been running around a bit, is that normal?" 


Laughing almost hysterically, assuming this was some sort of prank that her friends had set up, she replied, "No that's normal at all. They usually just sit here quietly all day, doing absolutely nothing."


"Wow, a sense of sarcasm... you are surely on a roll today."


"So... what can I help you with today Mr. ?"


"Mr. Schanoski, and I really just came over to make introductions. I need to be going to work now, but your mother invited me to a dinner party tomorrow evening, you will be there?"


In a very dry sarcastic higher than normal voice, "Oh yes. There is simply no way of getting out of my mother's dinner parties."

Morning already?

Good morning.... almost afternoon! I have decided that I will not prepare for these writing prompts that will hopefully look awesome when it is complete. Each day I am going to try to just open up blogger and free write a short part of whatever this will become! 

The next morning she awoke to the loud sound of, "BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" What in the world would be making that racket at this time of the day? She rolled off her bed, placing both fuzzy socked feet on to the cold hardwood floor. Grabbing her cell phone she realized she had slept in today. 

"Noon already? Well I guess I missed that appointment." Referring to her dentist appointment, that was going to ease the sharp, nagging pain that never ends in her mouth. 

"Hey, why are you not already awake? I have lunch sitting on the table and a pile of clothes needing folding sitting on the couch."

"Okay, Okay, I thought vacation was supposed to be laid back, not work," she mumbled beneath her breath responding to her mother. She then walked out of the room, down the stairs and out into the living room never noticing that there was a man sitting there watching her. A man she didn't know. 

The start of something new...

New great idea for this blog... I am going to start a short story. I know this blog started out as a poetry and short works type of blog but what if I make it more fun to read and possibly keep up with?
What do you think?


As the tree was being taken back up the stairs to the attic, she noticed a small glass brightly coloured ball had fallen to the floor. Thinking about which box this ornament belonged in, her brother pushed her shoulder sharply. 


"Hey! What was that for?"


"Just because." This was normal behavior from him. He had recently turned 13 and the amount of disrespect grew everyday. 


She tried to ignore her sibling and found the right box for the ornament under a few smaller boxes that were all full of Christmas decorations. 


"Why does Christmas always end sad, never happy?" said her 17 year old sister who was finishing pushing the huge tree into the box it had been bought in. 


"I guess it would have to do with the fact that we always end up playing with our new toys for like two or three days and then go right back into our everyday mundane routines." She secretly wished that next Christmas would be a million times better than this one was. It wasn't the gifts, they were exactly right. It wasn't who was there, they were all people she loved. It was just the overall feeling of Christmas that was completely absent. 

Ending the new year

As the holidays end and the new year begins, 

There is a light breeze bringing change upon us all.

Facebook and Twitter become all buzzed with the excitement of a fresh start. 

12 months to post new tidings to friends, family, and even the forlorn frienemies.

           As I have noticed, today my audience has jumped from 1 person to 83 people, and that number seems to jump with each passing hour. I am very happy to see that many people have seen and acknowledge my attempt to get the name Elizabeth Roswell out there to the public. I am working on my book once again, and it would be so lovely to have encouragement such as 83 followers...

           Anyways, thank you for clicking whatever link it was that led you here, and please leave comments. I love to hear feedback whether positive or negative criticism, it is all helpful.

A girl can dream, can't she?

A writers writes what they know and what they don't know they research. Deadlines come and deadlines go leaving the creative flow in a never ending tangled web of ebbs and lows.

My hope is for one day to either have more people reading things I write, or to die an unknown author who becomes famous when my grandchildren find my work in the attic. ~A girl can dream, can't she?~