A Thousand Rainy Years

Hi, My name is Bayleigh Friday, I am currently 20 years old with the terminal lung condition called cystic fibrosis. All my life my Mother has struggled to get me back and forth to my appointments, we come from a low income family and with my mom being single it was very hard to take care of both me, and my two sisters who as well has health issues that are hard to manage . We have moved from Jackson MI,To whitmore lake MI in 2012 to be closer to my specialized doctor for my Declining CF health, I’m raising funds to help me get back and forth to all my apointments which adds up, My mother had difficulty working all her life balancing between my health and enough money for my high calorie food diet and trips back and forth to the hospital, And now that my lung functions are at 33% I’m getting closer to my Double lung transplant.
Once i get on the list my mom is going to have to quit her job to be by my side to support me threw it all, and we wont have any extra income coming in.
We have no where else to turn for funds to help support me and my family.
It would mean the world to me because I always had a hard time growing up and trying to have a normal life with what I have, I would be the most thankful girl in the world for any donation possible.. Thank-you for reading my short story.

  • kept as how it was written, with the many grammar errors

She died today. The doctors didn’t even get her on the list for a double lung transplant, which was needed ASAP. Money was raised on GoFundMe to help the mother pay for hospital expenses but none of it really matters now. I’m sorry that I write another about sad story, another tragedy. She was barely 20 years old with still a long life to live. My youngest sister’s best friend. The what ifs of what could be made of a future life come into play. She could have been anything she wanted to be, like an artist because I heard she was really good at painting and drawing, but an unfortunate illness and being dealt the wrong cards by an uncaring God halted that.

And her body will return to the earth

To refertilize the soil and nurture the green growing plants

Completing the eternal life cycle

Of a thousand rainy years and many more

Now just a memory etched in stone

A young life so fragile and broken

To return in another form or so

And view the world through happier eyes

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It’s All About Location

There is a secret of mine that has only been told once on the Internet, basically because I’m not into spreading it around like Donald Trump’s money. Here, I can speak my thoughts without feeling too concerned about what people will think of me. It’s kind of embarrassing, which is why it is best that I word it in a discrete way. Here I go again, pulling the dusty book off the shelf of numerous memories.

One day mom was putting fresh laundry away in my dresser when she yelled out my three names. I was out in the living room, in my boy scout uniform and getting ready to go to a meeting that night at the elementary school. I immediately looked to my room down the hall and mom putting clothes in my dresser. She had found my private stash. The one I begged no one to find. The dirty magazine collection along with other stuff I had collected over the last few months. I immediately ran out of the house and up the slide in the backyard, burying my head in my arms just like you see in the image above.

My curiosity about these things had been peaking at an all time high and I didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with it. I discovered my very first Playboy magazine in the cabinet of a computer desk at my uncle’s house. I remember him saying “Don’t look in there” in a kind of joking/serious tone, but of course that only added fuel to my fire. I secretly took the magazine, folded it up in a tube, stuffed it down my front pocket, concealed it under my shirt, and went into the bathroom. There, I started tearing out the pictures I liked the best, stuffing them in my pocket and discarding the magazine behind the toilet. When I went out, everyone was curious as to why I was in there so long. To this day, I still don’t think they ever put two and two together but I suspected it.

And so I brought those cut out pictures home and created a “private” collection of pleasurable things. But it didn’t stop there. I even hand drew a picture of a naked lady on a barstool from one of the magazine pictures, the one that was a real embarrassment for me when mom and dad found it and showed it to me later on. And since I had a minor crush on a girl my age who lived in the house in back of us, I wrote a very inappropriate poem about her, that got thrown away immediately by my mother. I am hoping against hope that the girl never was told about it. Because maybe that would explain why she ran away from me at my graduation ceremony, the first time I saw her in years.

The most embarrassing of this moment is when mom and dad sat me down one night and had “the talk”. Oh god. How I still remember dad and his drilling stare, mom looking very uncomfortable indeed. “He’s only 9 years old,” she said, wanting dad to back off and not be so harsh, back off on the hard pressing questions of what led me to this. When he showed me the picture of the lady I drew, I could hardly look at it, totally ashamed of myself.

The next day, my parents did a little more investigating. It all seemed to centered around that picture I drew, which was very well done I have to say. They asked me why I drew it. And so I made up an elaborate lie of saying a kid at the school, a big kid named Lance I thought was in the fifth grade and typecast as my ideal bully, forced me to draw it on the playground table or he would beat me up. Oh, wow. How stupid could I have been?

So my parents went over to the school and talked with the teachers, trying to hunt down this imaginary bully of mine. I was in the third grade at the time and this was way over my head and a number of the adults as well. I was kind of hoping they didn’t pick anyone out in particular, because that would only be more embarrassing for me and kind of weird to the suspected. No, they never did find anyone, and figured out I was lying through my teeth and asked why I lied. I couldn’t ever say, but it was my fear of telling them about my raging curiosity of the female anatomy.

The rest of the story involved mom and dad never wanting to speak of this incident ever again, eventually trashing the evidence just in time for my grandma to come over and have dinner.

The story still hasn’t been brought up again to this day, probably because it’s been forgotten, for the best. I’ll likely tell it to my own nine year old son when the same thing happens to him, unless he’s a little smarter than me of course and plans his secret a little better.

I think if I could go back in time and change something about this, I would choose a better hiding spot for the stash than in the dresser drawer. Maybe under my mattress or someplace less obvious. At least my third grade teacher didn’t see it.

Rewrite of Don’t Look In The Dresser!


Evasive Action

What’s the most significant secret you’ve ever kept? Did the truth ever come out?

Night At the Movies

Drinking beer with the guys

A starcross night, chilly air over the city skies

I’ve wrote about this already but I might has well revisit it to freshen up the details in my mind.

Seeing Star Wars: The Force Awakens on the first night it premiered in my sleepy little town was definitely an experience I will never forget. I can’t believe how much of a fanboy I felt like sitting in that theater, watching one of the biggest films, perhaps the biggest, of 2015 unfold. I chuckled inside when the iconic words seen in every Star Wars film popped on the screen, and then let out a sigh of relief when “Star Wars” zoomed onto the screen and the iconic scroll commenced. A mysterious fog was cleared in my head when I finally realized the masked person seen in the trailer was Rey as she uncovered her face.

Afterward, standing on the curb of the theater in the chilly December air, waiting for my ride, I reflected on my awesome experience. I had waited years to see this film, first hearing it announced in 2012, and had bought tickets months ahead, so to finally live out my dream and be one of the early goers to these insanely hyped up parties, was very satisfactory. There was never a movie I went to where I felt such a connection that I had to where a matching t-shirt. Not even Harry Potter could do that.


Tell us about the most exciting big night out you had recently.

The January X-Factor

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There’s no such thing as a late holiday.

And what an eventful couple of days it was. Emily and her boyfriend Connor came up from Kansas to have a late Christmas with us at my dad’s apartment, which doesn’t usually see so much action like it did. Another round of gifts was very pleasing and entertaining. This is the latest we have opened gifts and it felt vaguely different because of the rush factor not being there. I received a couple more shirts, including another Star Wars themed to go along with the two others in my collection, a much needed guitar songbook, and a retro series Sega Genesis loaded with over 80 games and able to accept original cartridges. Sure beats anything from the modern day game consoles.

Most of the time during those days the two Kansasites stayed, it was eating and eating. We first ate out at McDonald’s, then Virginia Coney Island (I ordered the Elvis burger), then Olive Garden (the flirty waitress and her cheese grater), got pizza and breadsticks from Klavon’s (long, long wait), and ate at the icecream parlour today.

Tasting wine at Olive Garden was something. Connor acted all connoisseur and sophisticated in the art of wine tasting, swirling it around and sniffing out the aromas.  The waitress was very friendly and sported a playful and cutesy attitude. When I asked for more cheese to be grated onto the big bowl of salad that was ordered, she put some on my empty plate, laughed, and said “there’s your more.” Along with an alcoholic beverage, I ordered the chicken scampi, which became leftovers that took me two days to finally finish because I kept forgetting about it in the car trunk.

Damn. I didn’t win the Powerball lottery. Got just one number from three tickets. Three people from California, Texas, and Florida won the money and split it. Why is it always the big, iconic states that win? That can’t just be a coincidence.

Now that the big billions are gone and the jackpot is back to its minimum amount, it will be easier to play it with the odds being better and not so many people buying a ticket. I will continue to play my same numbers. It may take me the rest of my life but someday I’ll get lucky – and probably end up with bad luck after winning. For the people that have just won the lottery, I hope they are smart enough to get a financial advisory or lawyer to help them with it. Having that much money and nowhere safe to put it (not even a regular bank) can be risky.

My new friend Connor was a ball of hyper energy as usual (referring to the last time he was with us) and upset my dad quite a bit with his lippy attitude and ego, and tendency to correct people. When Connor said that the radio playing the national championship game was too loud, dad stormed away from the table, where we were playing Cards Against Humanity, and shut off the radio that was playing in his room.

Today we all went to the Westwood Mall. Emily and Connor wanted to ride around on these motorized animal riders, Connor being way too big, so they both paid five dollars. I would have joined in but thought five dollars was too steep for this silly thing, so I went around recording the two with Emily’s phone. She then shared the video on Facebook.

Connor and I then stopped by Gamestop so he could buy something with the giftcard he got for Christmas from us. He ended up buying Minecraft for the PS4 and a guidebook. While sitting on the bench outside the store, we talked about games and different things that could be built in Minecraft, like redstone activated castle doors and the lot.

Then him and I went into Hot Topic (a punk/pop culture store) and browsed around. He was looking for a gift to get Emily, which ended up being a Zelda themed dress that I was hesitate about at first but then okay with after seeing my sister walk around in it, reminding me of something Luna Lovegood would wear. He also bought a Majora’s mask t-shirt to go along with his matching medallion. Hot Topic is one store that had since lost its “cool” edge ever since I graduated high school and grew up. Going back in there brought back memories of my first time shopping there and buying my first piece of “dark” clothing.

The whole group later shot a couple rounds of pool at the Avenue Billiards. Connor and my dad had one table while me, mom, and Emily played amateur at another. I ended up playing a round with dad (getting smoked) after Mr. Know-it-All gave up trying to beat the pool shark that my dad is.

Everything feels so much quieter when it’s just me, my uncle, and mom in the house again. My thoughts are much louder and it is easier to write when I don’t feel distracted. I love it when everyone is together and having fun talking and laughing but in the back of my mind I know I have responsibilities and can’t just let things go, which can be very easy to do when I am having such an exciting time, like I did these past couple of days.

Our boy Connor is definitely the X-Factor when it comes to these family get togethers. He is quite the polar opposite of my immediate family, who are usually laid back and calm while he always has to have drama and be causing a scene. I like to say he complements me though and I hope that we both can get to be real good friends for years to come.


Daily Prompt: Ripped Into the Headlines

A Fizzy Memory

My earliest memory, as best as I can recall, is drinking my first can of soda, Surge, which has recently made its return to stores everywhere (back in September 2015 that is, not sure if it’s been pulled off shelves since). This is like the more “grungier”, less corporate version of Mountain Dew (the logo says it all) and I remember it definitely containing a lot more sugar and being on the level of an energy drink.  Actually, you can find many brands of citrus flavored soda in stores that probably taste the same as Surge or Mountain Dew and not tell the difference, even if you were blindfolded.

One day mom brought home about two cardboard crates (used for mass production) of a variety of off brand soda. The first time I popped open a can of this 90s drink and heard the fizzzz, I instantly felt cool. But even back then I knew too much carbonated beverage was not good for you, so of course I went easy on it.


Daily Prompt: Childhood Revisited 

What is your earliest memory? Describe it in detail, and tell us why you think that experience was the one to stick with you.

When You Were Young

You happened upon a fountain of youth,
The water so pure and clear,
Taking a drink you were instantly transported,
To the innocence of your childhood years
The good ole days,
with iced tea on the table,
mac and cheese in the microwave,
and finally seeing Aunt Mable.
When you used to sit on the floor
and let your imagination go wild,
while grandma would watch TV 
and look after the second and third child.
There was no indication of the outside world,
you were comfortable in that little bubble,
that tossed and twirled
and let you feel humble.
These were the innocent times,
there were no worries or obligations,
Just Lego, dolls, and cartoons,
Our vivid childhood imaginations


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forever Young.”

I previously published this post on November 19, 2014 in response to Salad Days and am now reposting it for this similar prompt topic, with some modifications.

From Under the Coffee Table

What’s your earliest memory involving another person? Recreate the scene — from the other person’s perspective.


Obviously, the vague memory of my mother and the time she picked me up off the floor to go to the hospital is the first thing that comes to mind. That was the first time I can remember seeing her. I was a little older than one. According to mom’s frantic pants and hints about “It’s acting up again”, I was having digestive problems once more. The following is me following the experience as my mom.

~~~~

“Matthew!”, she shouted with panic in her voice.

He was crawling under the living room coffee table, hitting his head against the wood and making some sort of grunting sound. Jill immediately became concerned and thoughts of those grueling doctor visits came back to mind. Obviously it was his digestive problems again. Bob was working the night shift at Meijer so she was the only one around to take action.

“I can’t do this anymore, we’re going to the hospital.”

Jill scrambled over and picked up the little baby, dressed in his red and white striped outfit, in her rough callused hands and rushed out the white front door and into the chilly air in the middle of the night. Running across the slick pavement, her motherly instincts kicked in with more worries of trouble with Matthew arising. She reached the family’s purple mini-van and slid open the side door with Matthew in one arm.

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Jill tucked him into his car seat, he just sitting there and not saying anything, and hopped into the driver’s seat, pulling out of BA’s parking spot with the fierceness of a deranged woman. She kept looking in the rear view mirror to see if Matt was okay. He still couldn’t talk so her assessment of his problems was tough, having to go by certain signals that arose, things that immediately made Jill know he was in trouble. Matthew just sat there calmly, probably having no clue what was going on right now and would likely not remember much of tonight’s events.

Rushing out of the subdivision and into the bustling city of Jackson, Jill arrived at the hospital, checked in, and got Matthew into a room quickly. The nurse already knew about his problems and calmly nodded and placed the baby carefully on the bed.

“I’ve been through this so many times already”, Jill said sarcastically. “How long will it be before you are done with him?”

The nurse looked apologetically at me and said calmly, “He’ll stay overnight, but you’re free to stay with him if you like.”

“Yeah, that won’t be a problem.”

So as a mother protective of her first newborn, Jill sat through the night in that hospital room, as Matthew was treated for his IBS. But she didn’t remember all the details since the nurse told her to step outside while certain procedures were done. So Jill waited in the lobby, impatiently sitting in an uncomfortable armchair, her face all flushed, heart rate jumping a mile a minute. She just wanted to have her baby back and have everything be okay with him. Jill was tired of these regular trips to the wing. Something needed to be done quickly about her boy’s problems.

The next morning, she went in the room and saw the nurse standing at the end of Matthew’s bed. He was lying near the headboard, quiet and innocent looking. The nurse was checking something off a clipboard she held. White curtains hung around the bed, shielding Matthew from disturbance and creating a peaceful canopy for him.

“Is he okay?”, Jill asked.

“Yeah, it was a rough night, had to get him to stay still while I took care of things. He cried a lot”

“Will we have to do this again or is this it?”

“No, I believe he is going to be okay now. Everything has been taken care off. But if the problem resumes, you can always come back and we’ll do more tests.”

“Okay, well, I’ve got to get to work soon.”

Jill looked at her baby thoughtfully, just happy that he was still there, as unassuming as could be. Her love for him increased largely.

“You’re coming home with mommy now,” the nurse said to Matthew in a playful voice. He looked at the nurse curiously while fidgeting with the folds of the blanket he was lying on.

There was a certain airy feeling in this room, almost like a dream, or at least that’s how Jill felt, feeling joyful, waiting eagerly for her baby to be back in her arms.

“Are you okay, Matthew?”, she asked with light concern. “We’re going home today, you should be all better now.”

“Yup, he’s doing fine now”, the nurse agreed, moving over to the bed to pick up the baby.

“Matthew”, Jill cooed. “Hey, look up here at mommy.”

And indeed, everything was fine now because the nurse smiled happily at Matthew as she held him and then at me, and Jill chortled softly, knowing that this was just one of countless experiences to happen with her child down the long road. She wondered if he would remember even the faintest details about it.

– Obviously what you just read here might not all be true. I improvised some of it since I do not remember what happened in between the trip to the hospital and the next morning.


Daily Prompt 10/17/14