She was the queen of the kingdom of lost things.

Her gown was made from dozens of mismatched socks,

And her crown was made from an assortment of house keys, forks, and screws.

Her subjects were lost hikers and confused tourists

And all she wanted was for them to be happy

But it was difficult to sleep among the lost toys and jewelry.

It reminded them of all the things they had lost.

Some subjects still believed that they would find their way home,

But most had already lost hope.

The kingdom of lost things was not a happy place.

…

She was the queen of the kingdom of lost things,

And she knew something strange was happening in our world,

Because lost things started pouring in like a hailstorm.

Summer camps, soccer games,

Birthday Parties and family reunions.

Large sections of AP tests,

Competitions and school dances.

School days.

Jobs.

The queen of the kingdom of lost things was overjoyed when all the things we’ve lost came to her kingdom.

Finally, she though, my subjects can be happy.

But they weren’t.

She didn’t understand why they weren’t.

Maybe it’s because they knew the birthday parties belonged to their kids.

Or that the jobs belonged to their friends and family.

Or maybe it’s because they would rather have their kids than have the birthday parties.

Maybe it’s because they wanted their friends back.

The queen of the kingdom of lost things watched her subjects from her palace of tempers and dreams.

She watched as they ignored the NBA games and the concerts.

And she couldn’t understand why they weren’t happy.

Perhaps there is something else, she thought, something else that makes a person truly happy.

And the more she thought about it, the more desperate she became for it.

She had always strived for her subjects happiness, when she never knew what happiness was.

She straightened her crown and fastened an old, ragged cloak around her shoulders.

She was the queen of the kingdom of lost things.

She took one last look at her kingdom, and then turned towards the path ahead.

She didn’t know what she was looking for,

But she would find it.

So… before the school ended I kept telling everyone not to stop posting or I would throw something soft across the room in rage. And a lot of you guys are still posting things. So that’s good. Thank you for doing that.

But you know when you’re in a class and some kid yells at you to be quiet, and you have a deep craving for an uno reverse card or a mirror? I’m that kid basically. Because I haven’t posted at all during this time. And that’s not cool.

So I guess hold a mirror up to your computer monitor right now. Or something.

But I’m posting now to tell you how I’ve wanted to be posting but I’ve enjoyed all of your posting. I’ve had so many half developed ideas, but this summer kiddo doesn’t write down those ideas before they run away. Like ideas do.

So… don’t really know where I was going with this.

But sorry that I made it awkward.

So… yeah.

I’ll try to keep posting.

Maybe.

Not making any promises.

Probably should have ended this a long time ago.

Feeling the awkward?

Me too.

Awkward is my middle name.

But not really.

That would be awkward

I’ve spent oodles of poodles of time thinking about how I could say goodbye. If I should be sarcastic or sentimental or poetry. (Side note, this is not a poetry blog). And no matter how many multiple waking hours I’ve spent thinking about how to say goodbye, nothing good enough came to me.

And so, I just won’t.

I’ll just throw my green composition notebook on the ground and leave the room.

It won’t be the first time.

…

Okay so it would be the first time. And I think we all know that there’s no way I can pass up a chance to talk.

So that scene I just described of my leaving the room?

It was fake!

In fact, it was faker than fake!

I tricked you didn’t I?

But we’re getting distracted.

…

When I walked into creative writing that first day of third term,

It was so quiet.

But I had made myself a promise that I would make friends in this class.

I wouldn’t let my social anxiety ruin the great time I was about to have.

But walking into the class, I could feel the anxiety grabbing a hold of me.

I sat down in a chair, and even though I recognized some of you, I almost backed out on my promise.

I was about to stare at my lap and settle in to the silence.

I hate silence.

But then,

Someone smiled at me.

And that was all it took.

I launched into a conversation, introducing myself, asking everyone’s names, repeating them over and over so that I could remember them.

(I’ve always been terrible at names)

I could tell everyone was a little startled.

And I was too

But during the 75 or 76 minutes we had together that day,

I became

Less

And less

Anxious.

Ever since that first day,

Creative Writing 1, period B6, in Mrs. Gulls classroom,

was a happy place

a safe place

and I loved that place

because of all of you.

So instead of saying “I miss you”

(I think that much is obvious)

Instead, I’ll say thank you.

Thank you for making me a better person.

On that first day

and every day after it

Thank you

…

Now you maybe thinking, so who is this person we’re talking about?

Or you’re thinking, that wasn’t what I was thinking!

I would be curious to know if any of you figured it out, so if you did, you should tell me. If you want to.

I figured out who lots of you guys were, if anyone’s wondering.

Unless you don’t count people telling me what their blog was as figuring it out,

in which case I did not figure out who you guys were.

So lets see…

I’m in the B6 class, but I already told you that.

I was part of the fantasy group

You know, the one that sang a group song to the tune of Under The Sea and threw mint gum at you guys?

Um… one time I spent the entire scribble time talking about how celebrities grossed me out because they’re old, and how the all the guys at Skyridge were way cuter (okay, I didn’t say that last part out loud at the time)

I asked a lot of pointless questions, and laughed a lot more in class than anywhere else.

I’m not a bean,

I’m a human.

I wear pants.

I’ve got a white highlight in my hair,

And no, I don’t dye my hair, it just grows like that.

I don’t know if that’s enough hints to know who I am, so I’ll just tell you instead.

I’m Ally

The keenest teen bean

you’ve ever seen.

You’ll basically be able to read the whole haiku in the preview and that is no fun so I’m just stalling for a hot second. Please enjoy my procrastination Haiku s.

…

Why do I do this

wait until it’s late at night

to do my homework

…

Procrastination

Causes stressful-ness and stuff

But its my own fault

…

The homework piles up

End of term is coming soon

I’ll just sleep instead

I don’t know why I miss this class so much. After all, despite the quarantine, I still have everything that makes a creative writing class, well, a creative writing class.

I still have a teacher.

I still write.

I still read what you guys write.

I have all the important things. So why does it feel like I’m missing something.

Maybe its not about the important things. Maybe… maybe it’s the little things.

I miss the little things.

The wonderful vibe I feel walking into Mrs. Gull’s classroom.

The hum of conversation when everyone is sharing their scribbles.

The sunlight pouring in through the window.

I miss talking to my classmates (sometimes when I wasn’t supposed to, sorry Mrs. Gull)

I miss thinking that Brandon Perry’s scribbles couldn’t get any weirder or funnier

but then

it does

every time

I miss staring at the memes from creative writing two on the wall

And wondering what the heck happened for those to make sense to anyone.

I miss listening to people share their writing.

I miss seeing people perk up when they got a shout out.

Because no one realizes how amazing they are until someone else points it out.

So I think I’ll do that now.

You are all incredible

You are all talented

And I miss all the little things,

But even more than that

I miss all of you.

Spring

Sun, flowers

Pollen, allergies, sneezing

Spring

It a perfect temperature

Except when it randomly snows

How I love

The season

Of animals giving birth

And some humans giving birth

Not all humans give birth in the spring

But most animals do

I guess we’re technically animals

But still

In spring, you typically do a lot more active things during the day than in winter

So when it’s super late and you realize you still need to write two blog posts

They come out sounding really weird

And your going to read it a couple days later and think

“What in the name of chick-fil-a sandwiches everywhere is that, and how did it get on my blog”

So anyway

Spring

Dear football players,

Hey, it’s me. The one girl you cut in front of in the lunch line? I guess I should be a little more specific, since you cut in front of people all the time. I’m the one girl who told you not to cut in front of me. And then you laughed? Yeah, that was me. It was just so funny. And then you took the last breadsticks? Hilarious!

So here’s the deal. I was running at the skyridge track today. After my workout, I decided I wanted to do a barefoot grass mile for cool down. Maybe you’ve done a grass run before. It’s a good thing to do for running form and injury prevention, or if you’re recovering on an injury. Usually I would do it behind the football stadium, where all the practice fields are, but someone left cans on the ground back there, and they got shredded by the lawn mover. A kid stepped in the shards and had to get stitches. I’m pretty sure the cans were from you. If you were wondering.

So since those back fields have razor sharp metal scattered all about, I decided I would be better off running grass at the track, around the football field. And I was having a lot of fun too. The sprinklers had just been on, so the grass was wet and refreshing. I was going at a nice, relaxed pace, and I was able to cheer for my friends who were still doing the workout. It was great.

But you ruined it.

I was going along, enjoying life, but then I stepped in a mouth guard.

A mouth guard!

Like, the kind you put in your mouth!

And I was barefoot. And I stepped on it!

So I would like to request that you do not leave your used mouth guards on the ground by the track.

Thank you,

The one girl you cut in front of in the lunch line.

I crashed my bike the other day and I have this massive green bruise on my arm. But we’re making lemons into lemonade by using it as INSPIRATION. (side note, I really like lemons, and lemonade is always way too sweet. I like sour stuff, so I usually pucker more while drinking lemonade than when just eating lemons. Because of all the sweetness. I guess I kind of ruined that analogy then. I would say I’m making gross lemonade into tasty lemons, but you’re probably just better off going to the store and buying lemons. On second thought, I probably shouldn’t tell you to go to the store. So don’t leave your house, just suck it up and drink the lemonade. Or water down the lemonade, so it’s not as strong. Or go plant a lemon tree. It’ll probably be able to grow and produce fruit before life gets back to normal. Then you can give out lemons as a welcome-back-to-school gift. But then what would probably happen is the kiddos you give them to would throw it at the trash can and miss, and by the end of the day there would be lemon entrails all over the floor in the commons.)

And I did not plan to have a huge rant. But we’re just going to go with it.

We haven’t even got to the post yet. This is me trying to make up for not being able to talk through all of creative writing class.

focus focus focus

sorry I was talking to myself

ANYWAYS

here’s my post. Enjoy (or don’t. I’m not forcing you to enjoy anything)

…

It’s a lot like a bike ride

When you’re riding

Laughing

It’s fast

And free

Then

Too fast

Hit a bumb

Lose control

And fall

Fall some more

Hit the ground

Pain

So much pain

It’s like that

Love is like that

…

It hurt when you started liking her

And stopped loving me

I missed your texts

Things had been moving too fast

That’s probably why I felt

So much pain

When you were gone

It was a lot

Like a bike crash

But not for you

You just kept riding

Dear humans,

You may not know me, but I know you. I’m often watching you. Some people even have a phobia of me watching you. I believe it’s called anatidaephobia. But let me assure you, there’s no reason to be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I’ll just stare at you. Always.

The reason I’m writing this is because of the bread. I really like bread. And the only way for me to get bread is when you chuck it at me. The problem is, ever since they put up that sign, you’ve stopped throwing bread. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to read. I can’t speak human either, which is why it is very fortunate that I found this notebook and a pen in a backpack a kid left on the same park bench he was sitting on. It wasn’t stealing, because the kid should not have been so careless by having the backpack a full two feet away from him. But back to the bread. Since I can’t read, I asked some of my other friends to read what the sign said. When they started talking with their mouths full of food, I flew away, disgusted. They know how to read, but if they don’t have the manners to swallow, I don’t even want to hear what they have to say. I tried to go to the store to get some bread, like humans do, but the doors wouldn’t open! Can you believe it? No matter how hard I pecked, those stubborn doors refused to move. While I was waiting for the doors to comply, I saw a little girl walking towards the store, holding bread.

You need to understand that I’ve been without bread for days, so I wasn’t about to patiently wait for her to throw it at me. I just ran over and started eating it. Turns out, that bread was her hand, and the squishy piece of bread that I ate was her finger. I thought the red stuff gushing from her might be jam, which is almost as good as bread.

It wasn’t jam.

To keep this from happening again, please throw bread again.

Thanks,

The duck.

I realized all of you have probably been anxious and worried about my two plants. After all, I haven’t told you about them for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. So I’ll tell you how Planty and Amber are doing.

They’re both turning yellow and purple. I don’t know if that’s supposed to happen or not.

And also.

They both miss going to plant school and seeing all their plant friends. And there were a lot of different plant things that they were going to do that they can’t anymore because the plants in charge cancelled it. And they have a hard time focusing on their online plant school, and their plant brother keeps hogging the plant computer. And they know that they should be working on their plant homework whenever they start wasting time on a plant game.

It really sucks, since plants can’t even get Coronavirus.

But they also know that everything will be okay. Just like they survived me not watering them for a month (several times), they can survive this. This may not be quite the same, but they’re strong plants. They are going to make it through.

So even if this is nothing like you (or your plants) have ever been through, that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. Planty and Amber and I believe in ALL OF YOU!

You can do it!

(I know that sounds like a cat poster, but it’s true.)