May 31

Moose, Wyoming… Who’da thought… But that’s where I am. Well sorta, I’m in this gorgeous valley right next to the Gros Ventre River. The Gros Ventre River Ranch (pronounced Grow Vaunt) is my home until October 1. I couldn’t ask for a place better. I instantly felt at home, the staff is like family, and the scenery is BREATHTAKING! Getting here on the 29^th took a little longer than expected due to constant rain. I arrived to a warm dinner of meatloaf waiting for me. I was taken to where I’ll be living and everyone came right out in the rain to help me move all my crap in. I’m staying in the Wolf Den with five other girls. There’s three others in my room and it’s actually right now not that terrible. My roommates are Julia, Bailey, and Cheyenne. Julia and Bailey have been here before so that’s nice to have them to help us adjust. Yesterday was spent organizing and folding sheets, towels, etc. Today was a very long day of cleaning from 8 to 5:30. It’s not glamorous but I couldn’t ask for more. I just ache to be on a horse. Saturday is probably the first day I can ride unfortunately. Well that’s it all in a nutshell besides the fact that I have a tiny amount of service and the internet isn’t that reliable so outside world I’m sorry to say I’ll hardly know what’s going on out there. O well. Love ya’ll!

Dream Girl - THIS NEEDS A LOT OF HELP AND OPINIONS!!!

SCENE ONE: GUAGE’S DREAM GIRL

GUAGE’S VOICE: I knew that I had to be with her the moment I first saw her.

GUAGE is walking down the main street of town. He looks up as a blimp passes overhead. When he looks back down he sees GEZEL walking on the opposite side of the street. He stops. He can’t take his eyes off of her. She passes by him. He gets ready to take a step but stops, turns, and runs across the street after her.

GUAGE: Ma’am? Excuse ma’am…

GEZEL turns and looks at him in shock.

GEZEL: Uh, can I help you sir?

GUAGE: My name is Guage and I noticed you were walkin’ alone and I thought to myself, “What’s a girl of her beauty walkin’ alone down main street without a proper male escort, she must know that it is safer to walk in the company of a gentleman than alone.” So I came over here to offer my services as a gentleman to walk you safely to wherever you were going.

GEZEL: (Smiling ) Well Guage, I appreciate your offer but I dare say I’m brave enough to be walking by myself but since you made quite an effort to come over here, I would appreciate the company.

GUAGE: You would?

GEZEL: I would. My name is Gezel. I’m new here. I heard that City is the most advanced place on earth with its rotating building, steam stacks, and so much more. I had to see for myself.

They begin walking. As they walk, they talk about the items in shops, blimps flying overhead, the latest technologies, etc.

GUAGE’S VOICE: It wasn’t long before ______ and I were inseparable. Soon I was able to, with some hard work and calling in a few I owe you’s, take her on her first flight. She loved it even though were only allowed down in the workers’ level; we were still able to see out a small window tucked behind boxes of Champaign in a small room filled with expensive food for the rich aristocrats on board. It was as if I’d given her wings and it was just us two soaring through the clouds. On our descent back to the to ground, just as we broke through the clouds it was God decided to allow perfectly placed beams of sunlight to break through the clouds that reflexed precisely on the city below. The city shone. __________ was breathless. A single tear escaped down her cheek and that’s when I knew I loved her. That night when I walked her to her door, she stood on her toes and kissed me. She kissed me.

GUAGE’S VOICE: Exactly one month after we met I took her to the park in the center of the city just after dark. We laid next to each other on a blanket my mom quilted for me just before I came to City to pursue my dreams my dreams of being an actor, and stared up at the sky watching blimps and plane weave through the sky. There must have been a band playing on a street near by in hopes that passerby’s would give them spare change because music drifted lightly into the park. A stood and extended my hand to __________ and right then and there we danced. Time stood still. The music slowly died and that’s when she looked up at me and whispered she loved me in my ear. I was in heaven. This ethereal beauty loved me. I was the luckiest man to ever live.

GUAGE’S VOICE: Time flew by and before I knew it I was asking her father for her hand in marriage. I’d only known her a year but in that year she’d given my life reason. Her father was reluctant since I was only a factory worked dreamin’ of being in the moving pictures but he agreed. I saved up for six months after that to buy her the ring of her dreams. I took her to The Aqua Tower, the tallest building in the city, on the clearest most beautiful night I could have ever hoped for.

GUAGE and GEZEL step out onto the viewing platform of ____________ Tower, they’re alone. GEZEL walks to the edge and looks over the guardrail down at the city. Below people walk along the street, automobiles drive by, steam rises in puff occasionally from vents in the streets, etc.

GEZEL: This is beautiful! I can’t believe you were able to talk to the guard into letting us up here by ourselves. Did you know him? He seemed pretty eager to…

She turns around to see GUAGE kneeling behind her holding out the ring. She’s speechless.

GUAGE: Will you…

GEZEL: (she starts to cry) Gauge?

GUAGE: I love you, I want to spend the rest of my days with you; I even braved asking your father’s permission for your hand. I’ve been planning this for month and I couldn’t wait any longer. Will you be mine forever?

GEZEL: YES!

GUAGE slowly slides the ring on GEZEL’s finger. She’s speechless as she stares at it. He stands and wraps his arms around her. She kisses him repeatedly, smiling constantly.

Bras and Breasts: Shaping History

The Bra: it’s a strange contraption use by women and hated by most. An unusually shaped oddity that women strap on themselves every morning in hopes of keeping “the girls” contained, shaped, and perky. Bras have been seen throughout history; burnings in protest even in ancient times a type of bra was worn. Along with its torturous counterparts, the girdle and corset, the bra has influenced change in history.

Breasts: peculiarly shaped body parts on women used for nurturing; scientifically proven to attract men. How can a loathsome article of clothing and a body part really shape history? Does society’s view of breasts change its views on women? Evidence throughout time could show a like between bras, breasts, and history.

Zoom back in time the ancient Egyptians and Phoenicians, around 2000-1500 B.C., to the fifth largest island in the Mediterranean named Crete. Its ancient inhabitants were called the Minoans after their King Minos. The Minoan people are seen as Europe’s first advanced civilization with contributions to architecture, pottery, and language. They were even the first European civilization to build a palace.

At the time, the Greeks were wearing long flowing chitons[1] and the Egyptians were in their loincloths and sheath dresses[2], the Minoan women were in “…skirts put together in an almost fantastic manner … constructed in tiers, separated by straps of rich ornamentation…. The waist is slender, and surrounded by a rolled girdle. The upper part of the person is clothes in a sleeved jacket sewn at the shoulder, but breast is bare.” (Köhler) The tight corset like jacket provided support as well as lift to the women’s breasts just like present day bras, except they were completely exposed.[3] Breasts were seen as a sign of fertility and exposing them showed how fertile the woman was.

The images of the Minoan women baffled archeologists when first discovered. They expected the women to be clothed in loincloths or more natural clothing like the men but they weren’t. The Minoans were the first form of artificial silhouette that historians have seen. Some costume historians say that the Minoan dress is what inspired later silhouettes and breast support in fashion.

What did this fashion trend do to their society? Minoans (and later the Mycenaeans) were all seen as equals regardless of age, race, or gender.

Women were priestesses, functionaries, administrators and participated in sports that would otherwise be dominated by males. Boxing and bull-jumping were the two most popular sports in Crete. Bull-jumping was a common theme found in Minoan wall paintings and vase sculptures. The object was to test one’s courage and agility by grabbing the bull's horns and either mounting it or vaulting over it. A successful vaulter landed on her feet behind the bull. Illustrations of the sport emphasize grace, fluidity and gymnastic skill more than bravery and both men and women participated.

Women were equally represented as skilled craftswomen, entrepreneurs, priestesses and were found among the highest echelons of political life. Evidence suggests that the priesthood was dominated by women. Although the palace kings were male, Minoan society was not necessarily patriarchal. (Narada)

Is it a coincidence that a people like the Minoans with a style of exposing women’s breasts on a daily basis also had a culture based on equality between genders? Maybe a key to equality lies in the way society allows its women to present themselves.

The concept of exposing the breasts switches between offensive to accepted depending on the time period. In the time between the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, where women would bind their breasts, the concept of exposing a woman’s breasts was completely immodest, a stark contrast to the Minoans. Eventually with the change in times the image of breasts being exposed became more acceptable but mainly in art.

Art during the Renaissance brought a rebirth of the way art was done in ancient times. Nudity was a common factor in the sculptures and reliefs of the Greeks and Romans. Artists like Sandro Botticelli, Donatello, and Leonardo da Vinci used naked women as subjects of their masterpieces. This brought breasts into the limelight once again. The woman figure became seen as a thing of beauty. Just picture the beautiful painting by Botticelli, Birth of Venus. [4] Venus is covered in nothing but her long hair, something that would not have been seen in the Middle Ages. Art books are filled with pages of paintings of naked women. Even women of power were painted in the nude; such as Gabrielle d’Estrées[5](Henry IV’s beloved) or Diane de Poiters (Henry II’s mistress.)

Slowly throughout history women gained more power eventually leading to queens like King Henry VIII’s daughter, Queen Elizabeth I. Queen Elizabeth I not only became a great queen, establishing more trade and overseas exploration - turning England from a minor country into a major world power - religious settlement, and English Theatre, but she also became a fashion icon for her day. Women’s fashion from this point on became more and more elaborate. Women, their fashions, and their breasts became a focal point.

So what? What did the rebirth of exposing women’s breast change in history besides providing stunning artwork? It planted a seed in the minds of women that they were something. Confidence began growing in women, a confidence that would steadily grow into women seeking equality in society between men and women.

Flash forward to the 1800’s in America. The seed started to sprout in the minds of women. Women like Lucy Stone, Susan B. Anthony, and Sojourner Truth, fought for women’s suffrage. They believed that women should be able to have a say in the way the government was ran. In 1920, women gained the right to vote furthering the trend of women fighting for their freedom and equality. Women in the 1920’s ditched the use of bras, which were a regular part of women’s every day wear beginning in the 1900’s, and went to either none or a more loose fitting body girdle. Ditching the bra could be seen as ditching the constriction of not having the right to vote.

Unfortunately, bra wearing came back in to fashion due to the fact that they kind of are a necessity but they didn’t become any less important. They became a big focus in the 1960’s. Germaine Greer was quoted saying, “Bras are a ludicrous invention.” This statement reflected the views of the radical women at the time. Women began questioning the importance of the bra and their place in society. The pivotal point in this mind set occurred at the 1968 Miss America Pageant.

The 1968 protest originated with New York Radical Women, one of the earliest women's liberation groups in the country. About 150 feminists from six cities joined them to show how all women were hurt by beauty competitions. They argued that the contest declared that the most important thing about a woman is how she looks by parading women around like cattle to show off their physical attributes. All women were made to believe they were inferior because they couldn't measure up to Miss America beauty standards. (Freeman)[6]

From this stemmed the myth of burning of the bras. The women didn’t actually burn their bras in protest but this protest set a precedent for later feminist protests in which bras were burned in homage to this event. Women are viewed as equals presently, so now where do breasts and bras fit in with today’s society?

How would you juxtapose bra sizes and society? Bra sizes range from 30AAA to 50DD. They cover a large array of women, fitting everyone from small preteens to very blessed women. Society itself is more diverse, unique, and fitting towards all people. All sizes and shapes fit in the American society, a slight juxtaposition.

Breasts and their supporting lead, bras, directly mirror our outlook on life. Take Madonna’s iconic pointed bra worn during her "Blonde Ambition" tour in 1990 designed by top fashion designer Jean-Paul Gaultier. It became a renaissance or rebirth of breasts and bras as a statement. It made her a stand out female artist whose works became timeless and inspirational to young girls. Her pointed bra still has influence on today’s pop icons. Pop icons like Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, and Rihanna have all had their Madonna inspired outfit. They all have become their own pioneers in fashion, music, and pop culture, following in Madonna footsteps.

Bras and breasts have become more of a fashion accessory instead of necessity. Breast implants have been said to be done since the late 1800’s. Breast implants became approved by the FDA in 1988. At first only the wealthy got implants but quickly the numbers rose including just the average house wife. According to Docshop.com, 212,500 women got breast implants in 2000. That number rose to 307,230 in 2008 and dropped to 289,328. (DocShop.com) All this can be seen as a reflection of the superficial nature of our society. The mentality of bigger is better and more equals power.

All in all breasts are just a body part and bras are just what keeps them contained. One cannot say that without either of them history would have occurred. They just happen to appear and make a statement when history is feeling the more rambunctious, rebellious, or inspired. Societies with an open view towards them tend to have a more open view of women’s right. They give women reasons to stand up against society norms. They girl women something to set them apart from men. You may say it’s all a coincidence but breasts always make for an interesting topic.

Bibliography

Botticelli, Sandro. Birth of Venus. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence.

DocShop.com. 2009. 29 January 2011 .

Egyptian. Wall Fragment from the Tomb of Amenemhet and His Wife Hemet. The Art Institute of Chicago Collection , Middle Kingdom, Dynasty 12.

Freeman, Jo. JoFreeman.com. n.d. 29 January 2011 .

Köhler, Carl. A History of Costume. New York: Dover Publications, 1928.

Minoan. Figure of Snake Goddess. Archaeological Museum of Herakleion.

Narada, Ty. n.d. 30 January 2011 .

Unknown. Apollo Kitharoedos. Staatliche Museen zu Berlin--Preussischer Kulturbesitz. Antikensammlung. Roman copy of a 4th century BCE Greek original. n.d.

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Fashion, Wealth, Society & Economy

Mark Twain said, “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.” (More Maxims of Mark) In the history of fashion, trends have been a statement of social standing, class, and economic stability. Current fashions show one’s status in society just like fashions throughout history have. How can a simple color determine social standing? Wars not only change the landscape and population but also what people wear. Simple changes in fashion can help add essential items to the economy. Ever thought how you could build two battleships out of corsets? But what it really all comes down to is how what we wear can show or hide our own person wealth. Fashion is more than clothes, it’s a reflection on the economy.

The earliest record of the color purple was 1900 B.C. According to Dr. Richard M. Podhajny, purple “was produced from the mucus of the hypobranchial gland of various species of marine mollusks, notably Murex. It took some 12,000 shellfish to extract 1.5 grams of the pure dye.” (Podhajny)This made the color purple the most expensive color to wear. Later, in ancient Rome only the emperor was allowed to wear purple. This trend with the color purple continued on through the Middle Ages, Renaissance, and even in modern times. Royal purple or sometimes royal blue (which was also made by sea snails) is still the color of Queen Elizabeth II sash that she wears to formal events.

What about the common folk? The rich color of dye in blue jeans effects the cost attributing to the “social standing” of the wearer. The current hype in the jean world are brands like Rock Star and True Religion, which are stand out brands that show status. A pair of women’s Faded Glory Straight Legged Jeans from Walmart cost $12, while a pair of women’s Rock Star Skinny Jeans costs $209. (Rock Star Jeans) (Walmart) Is there scientific proof that Walmart jeans are inferior to Rock Star jeans? Not really. Some factors that attribute to the extreme difference in cost are things like the thickness of the weave of the denim, the richness of the color of the dye, the double stitched seams, the decorative pockets and studs, and of course the brand name itself. The only things mentioned that actually effect the quality performance of the pair of jeans is the weave and the seams, everything else is just decoration. The term “conspicuous consumption” describes this trend. Conspicuous consumption means “buying expensive services and products in order to flaunt your wealth.”(WordNet Search) In other words, wearing a pair of Rock Star jeans states that the wearer is wealthy enough to spend over $200 on a pair of jeans thereby implying he or she has a higher social and economic standing than the wearer of a pair of Faded Glory jeans from Walmart.

People can hide their true economic standing by merely wearing more expensive brands. This shows the importance of the world’s opinion on the wealth of a person. Should wearing expensive clothes matter if the world is an economic recession? It all comes down to power. Darwinism talks about the survival of the fittest which now could be termed the survival of the richest. Wealth equals power. That means that by wearing more expensive clothing, a person could be considered weak in today’s society and economy. This is a trend that can be seen throughout history as well.

Fluctuations in the economy are greatly reflected in fashion. Take the period of fashion known as the Crinoline, around 1830 – 1850. Picture Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind, her iconic white dress with the colossal skirt. “The crinoline was a petticoat, corded and lined with horsehair and finished with braided straw at the hem…. Worn over five or six petticoats... the crinoline is apparent in the silhouette of extreme fullness.” (Wilcox) The crinoline reached its highest popularity in the South due to the rich plantation owners wealth that supported the lavishness of the crinoline (and the space.)

The Civil War in 1861 changed the entire economy of the America, changing fashion right along with it. Post-Civil War in the South was full of ruin, plantation owners losing their workforce, and money. The crinoline was a symbol of past wealth and quickly grew out of popularity. Most women didn’t have the wealth for new gowns, so they reused their old dresses. What did they do with all that fabric? They reconstructed it into a bustle, gathering all the excess fabric that they couldn’t afford to waste into the back. While the American South was in Reconstruction, fashion itself was going through its own reconstruction.

“The corset is attributed to Catherine de Médicis, wife of King Henri II of France. She enforced a ban on thick waists at court attendance during the 1550s. For nearly 350 years, women's primary means of support was the corset, with laces and stays made of whalebone or metal.” (Phelps) Beginning at a very early age, girls began wearing corsets. This caused the actual shape of their bodies to change, including the ribs to stay contracted and vital organs to shift downward. Corsets weren’t only meant to shrink the waist but also to lift and shape the breasts. The shape, length, and severity of the corset changed frequently depending on the current fashion trend. In the late 1800’s corsets were said to be more health conscious because they allowed the women to breathe more. This didn’t mean they were loosened, but that the s-curve shape they promoted was so tight around the waist that the majority of the vital organs were shoved downward more and the lungs along with the breasts were pushed upward. It did allow for more air to enter the lungs but terribly distorted the body. (Köhler)

How do you build two battle ships out of corsets? Just before World War I, most women wore a corset as their everyday attire. With the onset of the war, metal became a shortage. “…In 1917, the U.S. War Industries Board asked women to stop buying corsets to free up metal for war production. This step liberated some 28,000 tons of metal, enough to build two battleships.”(Phelps) 28,000 TONS OF METAL, all because women stopped buying corsets.

How did this effect fashion? The development of rubberized elastic materials in 1911 helped the girdle replace the corset. It was more for support than for shape. The fashion of the 1920’s with its long, straight, boxy silhouettes with dropped waists and loose, flowing fabrics and shorter hemlines. The liberation of women from corsets also reflected the role women had post-World War I. No longer were girls remaining at home until they were married off around age 18. They were seeking education, rights, and suffrage. The age that women got married moved into their twenties. The Roaring Twenties gave women the power and drive to achieve more. In the United States, women gained the right to vote in 1920. Women’s dresses became more decorated and liberated. The Age of Jazz, Flappers, Chicago – all became iconic statements of the economy and fashion.

With the onset of the Great Depression in 1929, clothing became more conventional. Hemlines lengthened. The waistline hiked back up to the natural waist. The economy was being more conservative and so was fashion. The color pallet was more natural reflecting the somber and humbling attitude following the Great Depression. During this time period developments in fashion were made that are still used today. Zippers were introduced to fashion in 1930 in children’s clothes. It was to make children more self-reliable. Manmade fibers in the 1930’s and 1940’s were also revolutionized to include rayon, viscose, and synthetic nylon.

During World War II, silk was in a shortage because the United States imported most of its silk from Japan and China. Silk was needed for the production of parachutes. Silk in the United States became a status of wealth even though no one really could obtain it. Women’s stockings (nylons) at the time were made mainly from silk. Cotton stockings were the cheap alternative. They were “not as sheer or attractive as silk…. Women made up for the stocking shortage by applying ‘a tan coloring agent’ to their legs. Some ‘even drew a line up the back of their legs to make it really look like stockings." (Trosclair)

Another adaptation made during World War II was popular magazines giving women instructions on how to convert men’s suits into suitable clothing for themselves. Women began working in factories that were once only run by men. The iconic Rosie the Riveter with her hair tied up in a scarf, sleeves rolled up, flexing to show the strength of women inspired them to take up the work left behind. They built ships, planes, and other war machines. This kept the economy going while men were being shipped off to war. Women in the workforce reached 20 million by 1944. Women joined the military, first as nurses but then formed into units such as Women’s Naval Reserve and the Marine Corps Women’s reserve. (Wilson)

Women’s fashions reflect men’s fashion. Suit coats like ones that their husbands wore became an iconic fashion. The fashion became bolder. Tailored women’s trousers even became popular for some women. All this became a likeness of women furthering their independence in society and the economy at the time.

When history books are written about the 2000’s, what will they comment on? September 11, President Obama, War on Freedom, the economic recession, etc. How will fashion today reflect our economy, social standing, and wealth?

Current trends in fashion today: skinny jeans, leggings, scarves, bohemian, plaid, holey jeans, vintage jewelry, structured mini dresses, etc. Fashion has become uniquely diverse and more as a statement of what you do instead of who you are. Indie Rock artists dress differently from RMB stars. New words are used to describe new parts of fashion such as bling-bling, jeggings, and stunna shades. Magazines are filled with movie stars wearing one-of-a-kind gowns by big name designers like Armani, Dolce and Gabbana, and Prada. Even our president dresses in top of the line suits. What do these say about the people living now?

Take the trend of boys wearing girl pants. Is that a reflection of the de-masculinization of men in today’s society? Women are gaining more equality with men. Men are no longer, in most cases, the sole supporter of their families. Reverse discrimination is causing men, especially white men, to lose jobs over minorities; namely African Americans, women, and the disabled. Other evidence showing this trend includes the color palette of men’s clothes. Colors like pink and pastels with fabrics with floral patterns, silk, and softer fibers also attribute to the decline in the males status as the masculine figure in society.

Economy, society, and wealth all seem to be in a different category then fashion but in reality they all go hand in hand. Fashion is a key example of how economic trends actually affect the people. Looking throughout history, you can see changes in wealth, society, and economy in the clothes people were wearing. Referring back to Mark Twain’s quote, “Clothes make the man,” it can be said that clothes make the society. (More Maxims of Mark)

My Rad Last Five Months.... Another crazy idea I started!

Today’s Playlist:

N Manic Monday – Relient K

N Forever Young – So They Say

N Everyone Wants to Rule the World – Jamison Parker

N Power of Love – The Early November

N Assassin – Muse

Alright, anybody who knows me knows one true blue fact, I HATE WRITING JOURNALS. Why would you be writing a journal now? Well to explain that, I need rewind to one month ago. After over a month straight of severe headaches, blackouts, and a few seizures; my mom decided enough was enough and told me to go to my school’s on-campus doctor, again. The doctor didn’t know what else to do to help me so she sent me to the local doctor’s office, where they prescribed me some more prescriptions to try, saying that if the headaches didn’t get better to go see a specialist. So now we jump back to today, where I went to the specialist. He performed an MRI. I knew something was wrong. He explained that there was a cancerous tumor growing next to my cerebral cortex. He went on to explain that operating on it had a high fatality rate. They could try chemotherapy, but that has a slim chance of working. If we do nothing- I’m dead in five to six months.

When I called my mom to tell her what the doctor had said, I could barely speak. I’m only twenty. How can I only have five months left of my life? I am only a junior in college. I won’t be able to graduated, travel the world, fall in love…

Mom begged me to withdraw from school and move home so that she could take care of me. “Aislynn, you’re sick. We need to fight this. We’ll make you better. We have to try.” She pleaded over and over. I told her that I needed to think and I have been thinking. What do I want to be spending my last five months doing? Lying in a hospital, hooked up to machine, radiation eating its way through my body in an attempt to rid my brain of the tumor. Or… Hmm…

Alright with the depressing stuff for now, it is making my head ache even more than it already does. Since this is most likely going to be the one thing someone will remember me by, I guess I should tell a little bit about who I am. My name is Aislynn Marie ***, I am twenty years old, the youngest child of five, and an art major at *** University.

Echo

This is the beginning of a piece I started this summer.... I need input.... really bad!!

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to know how you are going to die? The exact details. The color of your shirt, the smells of the slight breeze coming from the southwest, the pale sky blue eyes of the little girl with red ringlets staring at you from across the street, the sound of the ambulance that will arrive too late, the full body pain pulsing through your body with each of your dwindling heartbeat. You know everything- everything except for when. Would you live in fear? Avoid wearing the shirt, lock yourself up in your apartment, avoid that exact spot. Fear. My name is Darian and I know how I’m going to die.

My first echo occurred when I was 10 years old. I was sitting on swing at a park near my house watching my mom change my little brother’s diaper on a plaid blanket under a tall oak tree on the edge of the park. The brat! At age three months he had already stolen my thunder- my crowd of adoring adults. I had enjoyed 10 years of being the center of attention; but not anymore, little Baxter had taken it all away from me. As I sat watching in envy, my head began to spin slightly. I grasped the chains of the swing so hard my knuckles turned white instantly. When I was able to focus, I could still see my mom and Baxter still but it was as if all color and reality had drained from them. That’s when I saw her: a girl a few years older than me walking straight towards me. Her hair was dark brown- just a few shades darker than my own- pulled back into a long straight ponytail that fell down her back. Her eyes were puffy from crying. When she sat down on the swing next to me, a sudden realization hit her face and she turned and looked straight at me. Then the next thing I knew my head was spinning and I was falling backwards off the swing. When I sat up, the world was back to normal. She was gone.

Three years later. A man, who had been a victim of medical negligence that caused him to lose a leg and his will to live, went into the offices of Stevenson’s Law Firm carrying a 9 mm. His case had been lost, a case that was a supposed to be an easy win. He demanded to see his lawyers. His lawyers were found, they took him took him to a conference room and tried to calm him down. That’s when he pulled out his gun and shot both lawyers in the head. When three other people came to see what had happen he shot both of them too along with everyone else in the office before ending his own life. In the end four people were severely injured, three died on the way to the hospital, and six people died in the office. Among the dead was my father. He was the first to die. He had been the lawyer who allowed this man’s case to be lost. It was his fault.

At the time I was an eighth grader at Juniper Middle School. That day at school I had an English test first period followed by Math, Band, and French. When lunch came around I sat with my usual group of friends at or usual table. I have cheese pizza with a side of ranch and apple juice. Right after the bell rang for us to go to class, my name was announced over the PA system; I needed to report immediately to the school counselor. Greif was all I saw in Miss Abigail Reese’s face when I step into the office. She barely got out the sentence “Your Dad is dead” before I sprinted out of the door, tears flowing from my eyes. I ran to the one place I knew I could be alone, the park. It wasn’t until I sat down on the swing that I realized. My hair was slightly darker, pulled in a long pony tail. When I turned to the swing next to me, I saw myself, ten years old, pale and really frightened. This is when I realized, this wasn’t just normal déjà vu.

Five years later. The national government started a secret group called the Search, a group selected exclusively for the finding of those who are “gifted.” They believe that if they were able to study the DNA of the people they took in, they would be able to make their own Specials. A super soldier, always one step ahead of his enemy. Unmatchable strength, perfect hearing and sight, superior intelligence, and the ability to see the future – unstoppable.

Luckily, the few like me have been able to see the Search coming. We were able to outsmart them. Until now. The game has changes. They have something we could’ve never expected. They have their own echoes, only they’re from a machine.

Suburbia.... Latest Version.... Might change soon, again! :)

It was the typical suburbia, identical white stucco houses on a perfectly straight road. Neat little lawns with one tree in front left corner, perpendicular driveways that pull up into two car garages. Between each house, a white fence approximately four feet high with tidy flowerbeds lining each. Every morning the Duroville Examiner would arrive at exactly 6:30 and would be greeted by the men on their way to work, each in their compact cars. It was called Tranquility Meadows, a small suburban town with a population of about seventy people, caught somewhere in the loop of time.
Mr. Howard Petersen was one of these men. He would wake up at exactly 6:00 am., shower, brush his teeth, comb his full head of hair, and make his way downstairs into the kitchen where his wife, Claire, would greet him with breakfast: two slices of bacon, one over easy egg, and a steaming cup of coffee. After eating, he’d kiss his wife and walk out the door, briefcase in hand, pick up the newspaper, read the front page, walk to his car, and leave for work. It took him about ten minutes to get to Duroville, park, and enter into the large sky riser that housed his law firm on the twelfth floor. Mr. Petersen had been a lawyer now for about forty-four years. He'd graduated third in his class from the top law school in the country. From there he got hired on with the second best law firm to slowly work his way up to the point where after twenty-three years later he started his own law firm. Shortly after starting his law firm, he met Claire at a country club. They were married seven months later. As a wedding present, Howard bought her the perfect suburban house she'd dreamed of ever since she was a little girl. They had the perfect marriage.
Shortly after Howard would leave, his daughter, Ashlee, would wake up and make her way sleepily down to the kitchen where she too was greeted with breakfast: one piece of bacon, scrambled eggs, and a piece of toast. After breakfast, she would make her way up to her room and get ready for school. She was a senior at Duroville High, Student Body President, and the only brunette with blue eyes; making her the prettiest girl in school. She was average height and perfectly built (slim with just the right amount of curves.) Her smile was white and straight, no braces were ever needed. An hour later her captain of the football team boyfriend, Trent Sorenson, would pick her up and take her to school.

While Ashlee and Mr. Petersen were gone, Claire Petersen busied herself with housework. She tidied the house for her first few hours alone and then would step outside for some fresh air. If the weather was warm, she'd go out to her flowerbeds and make sure everything was perfect. Some days, neighboring housewives would come over to gossip over their knitting needles and yarn. A half an hour before Mr. Petersen arrived home from work, Claire would go upstairs to the bedroom to her vanity and freshen up. She then would head back downstairs to start dinner. She enjoyed being a housewife.
Around 3:00 pm., Ashlee would arrive home followed shortly by Mr. Petersen. Ashlee would go up stairs and work on her homework until her mother called her for dinner at 4:30. Most nights after dinner, she would stare out her bedroom window at the house next door. The house next to the Petersen’s was the only empty house in all of Tranquility Meadows. Its lawn hadn’t been mowed since Mrs. Jones, the 81 year old widow, died a year ago. It was the black spot on the perfection. This life is the way it had always been, as long as Ashlee could remember and this was the way it was until the summer after she graduated high school.
Late one summer evening a month after her eighteenth birthday, Ashlee was sitting in her room primping while waiting for Trent to come and pick her up for a date. A noise out on the street startled her so she ran to her window and peered out. An old, bright blue pick up truck sat parked outside the empty house. Its bed was filled with sheet cover items. A man appeared from inside the truck. His pants were torn; his stained white shirt clung tight to his tan muscular form. Whiskers speckled his face, his dark hair was messy. Ashlee watched his as he reached the door and unlocked it. A light flickered inside. Wanting to get another glimpse at him she continued staring out of her window.
A honk from Trent’s car broke her trance and brought her back to her senses. She grabbed her purse and ran down the stairs. When she emerged from the front door she glanced to her right at the house just as the man glanced over in her direction. Their eyes met. Time seemed to slow as Ashlee looked deep into the man’s brown eyes: her heart sped, breath quickened, and face reddened. The feel of Trent’s hand in hers brought her back into sync with the world around her. “It’s not nice to stare babe.” Trent’s deep voice sent shivers down her spine, the kind of shivers one feels when being sucked back into reality, realizing that one had just been in another dimension of time or so Ashlee felt.
As the car sped away, Ashlee glanced back; the man was still standing on the doorstep looking back at her. When she could no longer see him she turned her head back around and let out a few short breaths. “Baby, are you ok? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” Ashlee heard herself say, but was she really, she didn’t know. Who is that man? That thought occupied her mind the rest of the night, even as she kissed Trent good night. Once inside her house, she rushed past her mom, who was waiting by the stairs to hear about her night, up into her room and locked her door. Grabbing her chair from her desk in the corner of her room, she walked to her window, opened it, set the chair down just right so she could see out of her window but still not look like some sort of a creep.
The lights were on in the room level with Ashlee’s but there was no movement. After a moment, she began to question herself. Why was she doing this? Why was she so interested in the man? Why did she need to see him again? Her mind rushed with these thought until a slight creep on a door hinge in the house yanked her from her mind. There he was. Suddenly she realized that if he looked over he would see her. Quietly she slid her chair behind and knelt on the floor and peered out of the bottom corner of her window. Dazed she watch as he brought box after box into the room until they filled the room. He then started opening them one by one: this was his room.
A knock on Ashlee’s bedroom door jolted her back once again. Startled she ran into her chair which fell over causing a huge racket. Hoping that he hadn’t heard she glanced back. He had hurried to his window to see what had made the noise. Eye contact.

“Ashlee, honey, is everything ok? What happened? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, mom I’m fine,” she lied, “I just ran into my chair, how silly of me,” she said as she frantically put her chair back at her desk and opened the door. There her mom stood in her baby pink nightgown with a glass of water in her hand.
“Is everything ok, honey? You seemed a little upset when you got home tonight. Is everything fine with you and Trent?” Ashlee sensed the worry in her voice. She liked Trent. Ashlee even sometimes caught her on the phone with one of her book club friends talking about the wedding. Trent hadn't even proposed yet, Ashlee doubted whether he would or not.
“Everything is fine Mom, I’m just really tired that’s all,” Ashlee lied again making her way to her dresser pulling out a pair of pajamas.
“Ok, good night dear,” her mom said as she pulled the door closed. Ashlee took a deep breath as she pulled off her clothes, set them in the dirty clothes basket and slipped into her pajamas. When she crossed the room to turn off the light she glanced out the window. The light was still on but the room was empty. She switched off the light and climbed into bed. Sleep came in short bursts, weaved in and out with dreams of the man. There was something about him that took over Ashlee’s entire unconscious mind.
When morning’s light trickled into Ashlee’s room, she was already awake. Anxious, she jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. Mrs. Petersen was busy at the stove cooking wearing her bright red dress, her short blond hair flipped out at the ends. Mr. Petersen looked surprised to see his daughter awake. “You’re up early, sweetie,” his raspy but calming voice broke the silence that had filled the air, “is everything ok? Did you have a bad dream?”
“No daddy I’m fine,” he always treated her like she was still a child. Frantically she searched her brain for a reason why she was awake so early, “I just couldn’t sleep any longer, today is such a beautiful day.” Did they buy it? That was a horrible excuse. I’m such an idiot; they’re going to know something is up. Ashlee was nervous.
“You’re right. Today is going to be a marvelous day.” Her mom spun around holding a plate filled with two slices of bacon and one over easy egg. “And do you know why it’s going to be a marvelous day? Because it’s the third Thursday of the month,” she said without waiting for a response. She was beaming. Ashlee knew what this meant: book club. But this wasn’t any normal book club day; it was the day that Ashlee would be accepted into the book club circle because she was now eighteen. It was a vicious cycle; her mother had been accepted into the book club by her mother who had been accepted into the book club by her mother and so on. There was no evading it. Ashlee was now doomed to spend every third Thursday of every month for the rest of her life with a bunch of aristocratic ladies, gossiping about everybody and anybody worth talking about.
After eating breakfast as slowly as possible, she trudged her way up stairs to her room. As she walked past the open window, her mind completely forgot everything. There he was in a tight white tank top and gray shorts, sitting on a bed that had been moved into the room. He was writing. What was he writing? Was it about me? Ashlee laughed at that last thought. He probably didn’t even know she existed but then he looked up. He saw her. Time slowed again. She could hear her heart beat. It was then that she realized that she was still in her pajamas, no make up, her hair was messy but then something unexpected happened: he stood. In shock, Ashlee just watched as he put down his notebook and pen, slowly walked to his window and opened it. She reached the window. Silence.
Their eyes were fixed on each other. Neither one could speak. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes seemed like hours. Unspoken feelings surged between them. A smile formed on his face. “Hi,” his voice was deep, calm, and soothing. Ashlee’s insides jumped. “I don’t really know what to say. I’m captivated by you and I don’t even know your name.”

“Ashlee, Ashlee Petersen,” her voice was quiet.
“Ashlee, I’m Breckon Thorburn.” Silence followed. They sat staring deep into each other’s eyes. Transfixed on each other, neither daring to look away or blink for fear that they would wake up.
“Ashlee,” her mom’s shrill voice broke their dream-like state, “Sweetie, are you almost ready? The ladies are going to be here momentarily.”
“Umm, yea Mom,” she said as she look down at her pajamas then back up at Breckon. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She waited until she heard her mom’s footsteps go down the stairs.
“I’m sorry; I’ve got to get ready. I’m getting inducted into my mom’s book club. It’s a long standing tradition in my mom’s family. She’s really excited.”
“Are you?” Breckon’s voice was calm but inquisitive.
“Am I what?”
“Excited?”
“No, I’d rather not spend the rest of my life gossiping with old ladies.”
“Well what do you want to be doing?”
Be with you, She thought. “Umm, I’m not sure. Be anywhere but here, that’s for sure” Breckon smiled. The sound of car doors brought panic to Ashlee. “Crap, I really need to get ready. I’ll talk to you later ok?” She didn’t even wait to hear his response, she ran into her closet and grabbed out her mom’s favorite dress and ran into her bathroom to get dressed. Ashlee hated the dress. It was white with lace trimming on the collar and the bottom of the skirt that landed just beneath her knees.
When she was dress she rushed back into her room to her vanity and ran a brush through her long hair. Quickly she put powder on, mascara and a little bit of blush. That’s going to have to do, she thought. When she walked past her window a whistle caught her attention. She stopped and walked to her window. “How do I look?” She said jokingly.
“Beautiful,” Breckon called with a smile. Ashlee’s face lit up as she walked out her room and down the stairs. The smell of old lady perfume greeted her as she entered the living room. The room was filled with ladies with bright red lipstick, fancy hair, and expensive jewelry. The youngest one there other than her was her mother, who just happened to be forty-eight.
They were already gossiping when Ashlee’s mom announced her arrival. She stood. “Attention ladies, if I can have your attention please.” All eyes shifted to Ashlee, “I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Ashlee Marie Petersen.” Mutters filled the room. Quickly Ashlee took her seat next to her mother who was sitting on the other side of the room. The room gradually got louder as refreshments were served.
Pretty soon the ladies forgot she was even there. They gossiped about the cute postman and the new guy next door. “Did you see his pickup truck?” One would say.
“Claire, I don’t know how you’ve been able to stand living next to that dump,” another would say to Ashlee’s mom, and so on.
Ashlee’s head began to hurt between thoughts of Breckon and the aroma of perfume mixed with tea. Politely she excused herself and suck into the kitchen for a glass of water and fresh air. She glance at the back door that led into the backyard.
Before she knew it she was slipping out the back door and climbing over the short fence. What am I doing, she thought but that did stop her. She reached the back door, her heart was pounding. She knocked. Moments passed. Maybe he didn’t hear? What am I going to do when he answers the door? She began to turn back around when she heard the door knob turned. She turned around. There in the doorway was Breckon with his shirt off, his hair was wet. “Hey, I didn’t expect you to be here. I was just getting out of the shower, sorry it took so long. Aren’t you supposed to be at book club or something like that?”

“Ya, I left early. I was getting fumigated. I’m sorry to bother you, I just had to get away, I probably should go.” She turned and started walking away.

“Would you like to come in?” Ashlee stopped, turned and looked into his eyes and smiled. She followed him into his kitchen. Boxes were stacked on the table; cupboards were opened and partially full of plates and cups. The air was musty. ”Welcome to my humble home,” he said with a smile. She followed him into his living room. Dusty white sheets covered the couches, a few boxes sat on the floor, opened. Inside, Ashlee saw many worn and well-read books. Breckon sat down on a couch, dust flew into the air. “You can sit down if you want to, you might get dust on your pretty dress,” he said sarcastically.

“It’s ok I hate this dress anyways,” she said as she sat down next to him with a puff of dust. A still silence followed, Ashlee didn’t know what to say.

After a minute or two, Breckon broke the silence, his voice was quiet and rich, “I, I can’t stop thinking about you. Ever since I saw you yesterday, every moment is spent thinking about you. I barely even know your name. I know nothing about you but it seems like I’ve known you a very long time.”

Ashlee turned and faced him. He smells so good, she thought. She felt warm. Her heart fluttered as he looked deep into her eyes. “I know what you mean. I’ve been overtaken by thoughts of you and honestly I don’t mind,” but before she could go on speaking, he kissed her. Thoughts were lost. Unspoken words were spoken, hearts were fused, feelings were shared in just one kiss. When they pulled apart, their hands clasped each other as they sat staring into each other’s eyes.

“You were saying?” Breckon said with a smile.

“I’m sorry, were we talking,” Ashlee said with a cheesy smile. From there they talked for about two hours. Ashlee learned that Breckon was twenty-one and from a completely different world Ashlee was used to. She learned that he was an only child and his parents had died about six years ago in a car accident on their way home from their tenth anniversary trip at a beach house twelve hours to the west of Duroville. After they died he went to live a family friend who had three kids around his age in a small town called Doover. Doover was a farming town where people worked for the things they need and not for the things they want. He learned how to work on a farm and survive on his own. He spent his time growing up hauling hay, repairing worn down tractors, and other task Ashlee never even dreamed of doing. At the age of eighteen, he moved out of the country to Lilington, a big city about thirty minutes south of Duroville. He was a senior at the local university there studying to become an English teacher when his grandmother, Mrs. Jones, passed away due to a stroke (he was the last living relative, so naturally he inherited her house along with a small sum of money.) He would've moved to Duroville a year ago but he had just begun the Fall semester in school and wanted to wait until he graduated before moving. He was currently looking for a job so that he could finish paying off his school. Ashlee was in awe at his life. In all of her life in Tranquility Meadows, she'd never heard someone's story quite like his.

Ashlee looked outside and saw that all of the cars were gone from the front of her house. “I should go, it’s getting late,” she said worriedly. She stood but Breckon grabbed he hand and pulled her back. He stood, brushed her hair off of her face and kissed her again. “Really I should…” Kiss. “My mom’s probably worried…” Kiss. Slowly they made their way to the front door, kissing the whole way there. “I really need to go, but I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.” Ashlee was lost for words she actually wanted to stay. She felt herself falling for Breckon more and more by the second, this frightened and excited her all at the same time.

“Meet me at your window, we can try and talk then. I really must go; they’re probably worried about me. I’ll come back when I can.” After a long kiss goodbye, Ashlee slipped dazedly out of the front door and made her way to her house. She glanced back and saw Breckon peering out of his living room window.

When she walked in her house, her parents were sitting in the living room. Mr. Petersen was reading the newspaper in his usual chair and Mrs. Petersen was talking busily on her phone with one of the ladies from book club. “Hey sweetie, dinner is on the table,” her mom called as she walked past.

“It’s ok, I’m not hungry,” Ashlee said as she hurried up the stairs. When she made it to her room, she locked her door. Breckon’s light was already on; she could see him sitting on his bed starring at her window. He saw her and walked to his window and opened it. “One sec,” Ashlee called. She hurried into her closet and grabbed a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt and ran into her bathroom to change. She threw her dress on her bed and ran to the window. “Sorry, I had to get out of that awful dress.” Breckon laughed.

“Is it creepy that I miss you?” Breckon called.

“No, because I feel it too, I feel like you’re so far away even though you’re just right there.” Thoughts in Ashlee’s head began to spin. A plan formed. She told Breckon that she was going to sneak out after it got dark. She had to be with him again. Being without him felt alien and strange, it was like she’d been with him her whole life and was now being torn away from him.

A few hours later the sun set, Ashlee waited until she heard her parents retire to their bedroom. She silently crept down the stairs, avoiding the second one from the bottom because it squeaked. She made her way outside through the back door, over the fence, and to the door. Breckon answered the door quickly. He greeted her with a kiss.

They sat for a minute or two in his kitchen just holding each other. He grabbed her hand and took her up the stairs to his room. They climbed onto his bed and sat there holding each other. Ashlee felt at home in his arms, she never wanted to leave. Words were useless as they laid there. She could feel his heart beat as she laid there on his chest. Sleep slowly came upon them. Tonight sleep was perfect.

When Ashlee woke to a thin light creeping through the window, the sun was just beginning to rise. To her surprise, she was all alone in a big bed. At first she was a little dazed and didn't know where she was but then slowly the memory of the day before flooded her mind. She had fallen asleep in Breckon's arms. So where was he? Slowly she climbed out of the bed and crept down stairs. Lights were on in the kitchen. Quietly she crept through the door. The kitchen was lifeless. One by one, she wandered through each of the rooms in the house finding each one filled with only cardboard boxes and tattered furniture. Confused, she sat on the dusty couch. After a while she decided that she should probably head home. But how? Mom's probably already awake. What time is it? Please say she hasn't gone into my room. What should I say if I get caught?

A noise at in the kitchen brought her back to the present. She looked up just in time to see Breckon walking into the living room. “You're awake?” he said slightly startled. “I thought I'd still find you sleeping like an angel in my bed when I returned.” Ashlee smiled. She could tell by the way he looked that he'd just been exercising. “Are you hungry?”

“A little,” then she thought about it, “I'm starving!” she said with a giggle. Breckon couldn't resist her smile. He swept her up into his arms and kissed her lightly. She smiled again and glanced up into his eyes. There they sat holding one another, lost in each other's eyes until Ashlee's stomach growled breaking the trance. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, he kissed her again and set her on the counter and began making his signature breakfast, scrambled eggs. Ashlee sat, lightly humming to herself mesmerized by the brilliance of Breckon, following his movements absentmindedly with her sleepy eyes. Every movement was not lost in her gaze. She began to feel as if the world she'd been living in for the past eighteen years of her life was a figment of her imagination, a dream world, and this was real. Is this real? She thought, Am I lost in some fanciful dream? This feels so real, but how can it be?

After the scrambled eggs were ready, Breckon scooped Ashlee up and placed her next to him, handing her a fork. They ate the eggs straight out of the warm pan, sitting on a blanket next to the stove – the table was heaped with boxes– something that she had never done before. They sat laughing and chatting, discussing silly little get-to-know-you questions like: what's your favorite color, where would you live if you could live anywhere, etc. They both discovered they were more alike than they thought. Their dream lives already seemed intertwined. They both dreamed of achieving greater things in life. A noise outside on the street brought them back to reality. Ashlee glanced out the window just in time to see Mr. Petersen drive off to work. “I should probably go home; my mom is going to be expecting me to be awake soon. We’re heading into town to go shopping. My dad has a few days of vacation in two weeks and so we’re going on a family outing to the beach.” Ashlee said reluctantly. Guilt then slowly sickened her. The Petersons weren’t the only ones going to the beach, Trent’s family was also going to be there. In her dreamy daze, she’d forgotten all about Trent.