Ella’s Secret

“Ella, my darling. I want to tell you a secret, a great secret that will see you through all the trials that life can offer. You must always remember this: Have courage and be kind. You have more kindness in your little finger than most people possess in their whole body. And it has power, more than you know. And magic.”

– Ella’s mother in Cinderella


I’m sorry I haven’t been posting for a while!!!

Please don’t hate me. I have multiple good excuses.

Well, I have one main excuse. I’ve been super busy. I just graduated from high school (as you may know) and things have been… hectic.

I’ve been going to open houses, planning and hosting an open house, attending family get-togethers, planning for college, attending graduation, worrying about costs and scholarships, scheduling college classes, working, and doing whatever else comes up.

It’s even crazier than it sounds.

But, hey! Today I went to my college campus for orientation, and now I’m basically past the overload of craziness! I still have work and need to clean up after my open house, not to mention plan for college, but tomorrow is my first day off in a while.

That means I can start posting again!

Well… I can try.

Overall, I’ll have trouble posting daily, but I’ll at least try to post once or twice a week.

Anyway, I swear I haven’t abandoned this blog. Like, no way! I love this blog! My life is just going crazy right now, and my mind is all over the place. As soon as I can settle down, I can go back to giving writing advice.

Remember, let me know what help you need! Otherwise, I won’t know what to post!

A special thanks to all of you who are sticking with me. You guys must be as crazy as me. If you’re new…

Welcome to the crazy world of Cullers!

Till Death do Us Part

I walk across the grass, still damp from last night’s rain. A cool breeze brushes over me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps, but I don’t try to seek shelter. Instead, I pull my beautiful dress a few more inches above the ground and keep moving. It may not be the best day, but any day is wonderful when I’m with him. I float down the aisle with perfect poise and come to a graceful stop as I reach the front.

There he is.

There is my love.

The others sit in the chairs that have been set up. I hand the flowers I had been carrying to a nearby woman before turning back to the man who has always held a special place in my heart. I smile softly, a few tears escaping as I touch his face. Then I step back as the priest begins to speak.

I remember when we first met. We were little more than children back then: crazy high school students still trying to figure out our lives and destinies. I’d been sixteen; he’d been seventeen. Everyone thought it was just one of those naïve teenage romances, but I knew better. The moment I first laid eyes on him, I knew that he was the one. No matter what, until the end of time, I would never stop loving him and he’d never stop loving me.

The priest begins to sing, and I give a soft sigh, swaying lightly in time with the music.

Our first kiss was at the high school prom. We’d been dating for nearly a year, and he’d loved me so much that he’d agreed to take it incredibly slow. That night, he worked so hard to make everything perfect. He couldn’t afford a limo, so he picked me up in his dad’s black Chrysler. It was old and not the nicest thing in the world, but to me, it was better than any silly limo. He’d brought me a corsage to match my elegant blue dress and my parents had gone crazy taking pictures. We’d had the most wonderful night dancing, and during the last song, a slow dance, he kissed me. If it were possible, I loved him even more in that moment than ever before.

I feel a hand take hold of mine. I look up at the handsome young man standing next to me and he offers a smile. I return it before turning back to the priest.

We went off to college together. He got accepted to Harvard, the genius, but he denied them in favor of going to a simple state college with me. He ignored the threats and pleas of his parents and only thought about his love for me. Everyone on the campus knew that we were the perfect couple, and no one ever tried to tear us apart. It was just something that somehow became normal. I don’t know how, but it did. We did everything together, and no one found it strange, not even the freshmen that came in every year. They would send us one glance, and then completely accept the fact that we were meant for each other.

He waited until we graduated to ask me for my hand, but not a moment after. As soon as our hats were thrown, he asked me to be his forever. And I, of course, agreed.

The priest finishes his chanting. The woman I’d handed my flowers to earlier hands them back to me. I lean forward and lay them on the altar before my love. I don’t wait for him to look at me. His eyes are closed.

We stayed married for a happy sixty-three years. We raised three wonderful children, and spoiled seven wonderful grandchildren. We even saw the birth of one perfect little great-grandchild. We worked and struggled together, we smiled and danced together. I worked in the office, and he worked as a doctor before becoming a stay-at-home dad for the kids. I earned enough so that he could do so, and it made him so happy. Every day when I came home from work, he’d pull me in for a kiss and dance me around the living room for a bit while the kids watched and laughed.

When the kids left the house, we sat on the couch, reminiscing over the past and every beautiful moment we shared. When we retired, we traveled the world together. Our last trip was to Europe, where we visited Germany, Italy, France, Greece, and Ireland. It had been so amazing. We’d been discussing going back when he was suddenly bombarded by medical issues. I remember talking to the doctors at the hospital and them telling me that we couldn’t travel anymore. He was ill and couldn’t handle it. So we stayed at home together. Eventually, we moved to a retirement home together. We’d become old and frail, but he’d still take me by the hand and dance me around the home’s living room each night.

People begin to stand and leave. I feel one more tear trace down the hollow of my cheek.

I remember that last night clearly. We were dancing around the room, just a soft slow dance, and he leaned down to kiss me one last time…

I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I’m led away from the grave.

My writing belongs to me. All writing under the category “Fiction by Me” is mine. Use of my writing without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my work for any reason, ask me for permission first.


WARNING: Very, very dark. Nothing detailed, but still.

You have been warned.

White hair and red eyes:
the testimony of a phenomena
feared and fraught.
Innocent beings cursed from birth
imagefor no reason but to be different.
Scorned and scarred,
abused and misused
for being born.
Unique beings
twisted into monsters
by shallow minds and hollow hearts.
Beautiful bastards
wrongly mistaken for black sheep.
Brilliant beasts
hated for being misunderstood.

Red hair and white eyes,
bleak and colorless,
void of their once beauty,
never again to feel worldly pain.
Do you not see the horror
of what you’ve done?
Do you not care that an innocent life
has been unrightfully
stolen from this world?
Do you not feel shame?
Do you not wallow in your filthy guilt?
Your wicked ways
of hatred and uniformity
The systems you so regally uphold
can only destroy.
This unified world
drowns in uniformity.

*(Note: I have a really dark side, if you hadn’t noticed. Basically, it was late at night and I read some story that said something about an albino girl being made fun of for her looks and eventually taking her own life. For some reason, it really upset me, and this poem was the result. I won’t apologize.)

Picture source: pinterest

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

A Place for Us

It’s strange to think that, after everything,
it’s time to say goodbye.
I can’t very well imagine a world
without a flag in my hands
or a show in my mind, but
I suppose I’ll have to try.
Four years of my life, gone in a flash.
It’s impossible to grasp that
my time has come.
I’m moving on
to bigger and better things,
and though I’m nervous,
I’m ready.
I know whatever happens,
whatever trials I face,
I will overcome.
This Guard has shown me
the strength that I have
when I fight.
The lessons I have learned
through long days under a blazing sun,
through endless hours in a too-bright gym,
through scrapes and bruises and pain,
have helped me grow into
someone better.
I no longer fear
the glare of a spotlight.
I no longer believe
in limitations.
In the midst of exhaustion, I’ll remember
and I’ll push myself just a little further.
I’ll never give up
because a true Guard Girl
is stronger than that.
And no matter where I go,
no matter what I face,
I’ll never forget that nervous excitement
as I step onto the floor with my girls,
as I face the crowd in Dayton arena,
as I set my equipment and take deep breaths,
as I find my place for the beginning of the show,
as I hear the words, “Is the Guard ready?”,
as I feel it all leave me in one final breath.
And I’ll remember that feeling
when the show music starts
and all that’s left is

*(Note: It took me a long time to manage to write this. This is basically my farewell to Guard. I’ve finished off my last season, and now that whole piece of my life is over. It’s been hard to comprehend, but I’m coping alright. The title of the poem was the show title for this past season.)

Picture source: *I’m looking for the perfect picture. I’ll get one up soon, pinkie promise!*

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.


Sorry I haven’t posted in a bit. Life has taken over a bit. Guard is over and I sort of feel like I’m wondering through a dream right now. I’m reading Me Before You by Jojo Moyes, which is a wonderful and perfect read that you should all look into. I have to revise all of the poetry I’ve written for Creative Writing and choose ten to make a poetry portfolio out of to turn in (it’s much harder than it sounds, trust me).

Oh, and I have to plan what I’m doing for prom, my graduation open house, and I have to get a job.

Life just doesn’t like me right now.