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One more chance, one last try. I won't deserve another shot if I screw this one up. So I'll give this more effort than ever, give it everything I have. Will it be enough. I can only hope so. I am still only a voice, but perhaps this will make my voice clearer? I long to draw nearer and prove myself. I long to show just how real I am. No longer a seeming imitation, I am true. Never meant to get pulled so far, the wind was too strong. But now I fight it with stronger zeal. I will be strong for you, I swear. I'll fight til the end and I won't give up. I'll be better. I will try. If you'll give me the shot that I don't deserve but want more than anything. I'll commit to being your shoulder, someone you can confide in. There is nothing I cannot be told, nothing that could make me love you less. I won't fail to show you that again. I'd rather die.

What would happen if the nightly creations of my mind became reality? I would die. Most of these worries are unprovoked, but they haunt me all the same. I can deal with the beast, she is the least frightening these days. She who brought me here can take me out, true. But if daily life would be as I have experianced it in my dreams, her malicious intentions would no longer seem so terrible. I may even welcome them. Is that what I would do, if all the friends I love were to hate me? Probably. If all of them were one day so disgusted with me for being the terrible friend that I am that they could not even stand to look at me...what then? I would not blame them. I am trying to be better, but the beast has a collar around my neck and keeps me on a short leash. What happens when they finally give up and grow too weary of that leash? They cannot break it, and for the life of me neither can I, though I have tried. I want nothing more than for these night terrors to remain fiction. And yet...why do I feel as if they have a chance at manifesting themselves even when I am awake? I shudder at the thought. They have shown nothing of it, this fear is entirely irrational and obtuse. And then...What if they would be happier? I haven't the gall to begrudge them of happiness. NOt for my own selfish wants. No, if that be the case then the pain would perhaps be less. Not gone, never. Friendship as I have been show from them comes but once a lifetime. The loss of such a love to hatred would hurt, I am powerless against that. But I could not protest, knowing that they would be less burdened were they to hate or even forget me. And thus the line between asleep and awake blurs even more.

Laughing with the youngest as she tries to sneak a sweet lick of cookie batter before it makes it into the oven.
The three of us dancing together to the radio and singing along joyfully.
Picking out gifts together for our parents and extended family.
Walking in the woods when the sun is setting and just enjoying the quiet.
Testing the pond, hoping for the day when it will freeze enough to skate on in our tennis shoes.
Reading something funny in my room, letting our laughter drown out the shouting.
Lighting candles and letting the scent fill the house.
Talking quietly in the tree house in our backyard.
Passing inside jokes between each other dicreetly.
Trying to keep up the holiday spirit and stick together, and enjoying it while we can.

I have been taught by experiance that the good and happy times are fleeting. Like a light that burns out as soon as you flip the switch to turn it on, they come and go too quickly. And yet I continue to wait for each flicker with unending hope. Is it folly to want to hold onto happiness? To wish, at least, for them to have a light every day for their entire lives? To want their true smiles so much that it burns? Whether these dreams of mine or prudent or not, I cling to them for all that my life is worth - as small a value as that may be. I am trasient to all of them, but in the blink of the eye that I pass through and touch their lives, I want to do good. To leave them with a taste of optimism and hope and a glimpse of the sun. I call out and hear a response. Hope refuses to be banished. I will not give up on this dream of mine, not for them. I can make a difference if I truely make the effort. If nothing else, I must for they have done good to me and I must repay that. I want to. They have changed me, I wish to give back what they have given me. This is the season, yes? And though in a lifetime I could never fully repay them, I wish to give back at least in part. I would not be deserving of life if I did not at least try.

I am the voice crying in the wilderness for those who are lost in it. I am just as lost as they are, but could we be lost together? Endure the storms together, pick along the icy path together, find the way together. Call back, and though the fierce wind blinds me and obscures my hearing I will do my best to find my way to you. My heart belongs to those who would be with me. I love them so much, all of them. I want to help, do anything I can for them. My talents, though few and weak, are theirs. My motives and will are theirs. I am not strong or brave, but I am willing to fight for us. Everything disappears in the end, but I wish to hold onto them as long as they wish to be held and help them as much as I can. Eventually we will all have to part, but in this time, is it foolish to wish to fight together. Is this mere folly, this hope of mine? The cage bars are strong, will I be able to help at all? I tear with bare hands and get nowhere. We have withing us the capabilities to open our own cages, we are simply in need of aid. To bring forth the strength and tools needed. I want to be that aid, the question is can I? I know I want to and if effort counted for anything there would be no problem. But what counts is end result. So I call out, unwilling to give up. No matter what I shall always try.

Bad friend, bad person. I can't even help one person, one person who means so much to me. I should be able to. I want to so much that it's tearing at me. I hate myself. Why can't I help? Why am I so ******** useless that I can't even help the one person in the world that means the world to me? Why can't I unlock a age, make hopes and desires and dreams come true? God, I should know what it is that my friends want, but I'm just too dense. I can't read body language or decode tones or glances. I can't figure out what they need from me unless they tell me straight enough to use the meatphor "broadsided by a bus" in it. Damnit. I hate how much I hurt them, hurt that one person. More than anything I want them to be happy, yet here I am making them unhappy. Why is it that no matter what I do, I screw up and I do exactly opposite of what I intended? Why can;t I do something for someone the right way for once?! Why can't I be there for them, catch them, be a good friend just once? If I only had the key, or ever a crude haripin, I'd unlock the cage in the blink of an eye. But I don't even have a twig, and yet I want to let my friends out of their cages. How, though? I should be able to figure it out. I hate myself for not being able to get this. It should be plain as daylight, I'm sure. But to me everything is just hazy and I can't even see what it is they want. I'm such a stupid b***h.

((The following, becasue I feel like posting something light-hearted for once, is a conversation held between my 14-year old sister and myself during the sermon at the 10:30 service on Communion Sunday. As you will read, Pastor David is boring in our opinion and we needed something to entertain us. So we wrote back and forth to each other on the bulletin. Basically, this is just me and one of my sisters having fun in a silent way, or as silent as possible thanks to the laughs we had to stifle. My sister's remarks will be in red and mine will be in blue.))

This is boring...

...no duh XD

Why can't Justin ever do the sermon? At least he's interesting.

It's Communion Sunday, David always does this sermon.

That's not fair...

Oh well!

I wish we could go get coffe. It's so cold outside!

You missed the second "e" in coffee.

Whoops...

Schmooth move!

It's too early to spell right.

He's almost done, thank God!

Here here!

Grab the booze!

Say what?!

Ya know, the "holy" booze. It's s'possed to be the blood and all that.

Lol. It's just grape juice. And besides, we're too young to drink.

How do you know we're too young to drink?

Cause I know there's a law that says ya gotta be 21.

To what?

Drink alcohol.

Seriously...?

Seroiusly.

Since when?

Since a long time...

Ooooooh...I never knew that! razz

Which explains your bad civics grade last year...

Hey! At the end of the year my grade in that class was a...

Was a what?

I'm shunnin you!

No you're not.

Yes I am.

You love me too much to shun me.

Nu-uh.

Well if you're chattin with me, then you're not shunnin me.

wrong.

How am I wrong?

Beacuase...just cause you are!

Fine, but I'm still your only source of entertainment.

Dang. You're right...

No worries, the sermon is over in 5...4...3...2...1...stand up and sing.

((This is where the sermon ended and my sister and I resumed paying attention to the service. She says she hopes you enjoyed this. I'd say it too, but it's all ready been said.))

Two hours before the show, the cast is gathering. We crank up the music in both the chorus and the orchestra room and begin to prepare for the show. Our everyday clothes are substituted for costumes, and we slather on thick stage make up that feels like we have a layer of mud on our faces. All the while we're loosening up, getting rid of as many nerves as we ca. We dance to the music, chat with each other, go over lines, and basically turn it lose. We circle up, chanting and dancing together. We pull each other in one at a time. We laugh and cheer each other on, building up our energy for the show. The director joins in, focusing the warmups to articulation and projection. We say several rhymes that help us be vocally ready. Finally, right before we go onstage, we circle up to do Indian Jumps. We all join hands and start off. Eight hops on the right foot, eight on the left, seven on the right, seven on the left, so on and so forth all the way down. At the end we all scream as loud as we can, throwing our hands to the center to get out bad energy. From there we proceed immediately to out places in silence. The time for chatting is over, it's all buisness now. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I await the cue to enter. I tilt back my hat and exchange a glance and a smile with Umi. The piano begins to play the cue song, and I walk on stage. Everything else disappears. I am not myself any more, I am my character. After the each scene I dart onstage and transport on set peice or another on or offstage. The play goes by swiftly. All too soon it is over and I'm taking a bow with my fellow cats members during the curtain call. As we walk off stage after the final bow, the joy that has beeen weeling up inside me increases tenfold. As soon as we clear the curtain into the back hall we all break into a run towards the dressing rooms. A jubilant and triumphant cry escapes my throat. We strip out of our costumes quickly and throw on out street clothes. I rub off my stage make-up with a tissue i brought just for that. Then we gather in the band hall, bang ing on lockers and calleg for the strut. The seniors call for quiet. They recite the call for the charge, and we all walk down the hall together in to the waiting crowd. I can't stop smiling and my energy seems limitless. I greet my friends with enthusiasm, hardly able to contain myself. Something I really need to work on so I don't hurt them everytime they come to a show. Another show is done, leaving me ready for more. I worked my a** off, spending far too many hours in the theatre. But it was all worth it. I'm ready to do it all again with a new show. If I had to chose one thing in the world to spend all my energy on, it would be this. The theatre is my home, and the cast is my family. Without my other family-my pack-I wouldn't have the strength to keep it up, either. But they stick with me even when they can't see me all that often. And when it's all said and done, every bit of energy, every second, every bruise, it was all worth it. Hands down. The thrill of the show. What I live for.