Dan In Real Life: Questions

Question 30: Are you a good bowler? 

           

                      I am not a good bowler at all, unless it is on a video game. In fact I'm utterly horrible at bowling. I remember one time me and my dad went bowling one night and in the two games we played I only scored like 5 points. It was just gutter ball after gutter ball. I was terrible, but we still had a lot of fun. 

Question 29: Where would you like to have a vacation or getaway home like the one in Dan's family has? What would the place be like? 

                       I would love for me and my family to go to a lakeside cabin or vacation home in Colorado to ski. I think if would be so much fun to just get away for a while plus I want to learn to ski. My family isn't that big, there are only 11 of us, so it wouldn't be too big of a vacation home, but it would be homey and nice. 

Question 21: Does your family do large gatherings with interesting sleeping arrangements and lots of activities like Dan’s?

                        Yes, my family will sometimes have a large get together with strange sleeping arrangements. When we go to my uncles in West Plains and everyone is sleeping in a weird place or position. Sometimes you have a lot of people sleeping on the floor in the living room when there is a perfectly good bed like a room away. It's funny and we have a good time. 

Question 7: Can you know in three days that you love someone?

                        I believe in three days you can know if you care about someone deeply. I don’t think you can really love someone in that short amount of time. You wouldn't really know them like you think. Only time can tell if someone is really that important to you and if you really feel for that person. If you don’t take the time to get to know someone, to see if you both work together, then I don’t think it will work. Love isn't like that. Love is a difficult, harsh truth that when you get love, it is the most wonderful think. Yet, like most things in life it is hard to get in the first place. 

Memories of a Child:

12.  Describe any childhood ailments or injuries you had.

            

      When I was little, I was a little bit of an accident prone girl. I was always getting hurt all the time. I got hurt doing some of the stupidest things. One injury that really stands out in my mind was in fifth grade. We had a older swing set in my back yard all made of old wood. Well trying to be the cool older sister I climbed to the top and sat down up there. I was trying to impress my brother and sister so I told them I would jump off from the top. Of course, I couldn't just jump. My belt loop on my back of the jeans I was wearing got caught on a bolt of the set and so instead of landing on my feet I landed On my neck…head first into the hard ground. BAM! My parents come running out and I run to them sobbing. We end up going to the ER and wait forever. I eventually find out that I fractured four vertebra's on my neck and the highlight of the night was I ended up 55% deaf in my right ear as well. That was probably one of the most annoying weeks of my life because I couldn't go to school or anything.

34.  Describe someone who taught you to believe in yourself.

            

      This might come as a shock to your or not but when I was younger it was Harry Potter that taught me to believe in myself. I was a very shy kid when I was little and I didn’t make friends easily until I watched Harry Potter and read it for the first time. That’s when I starting opening up and gaining more friends. To this day I still love Harry Potter and go to it when I feel bad.

32.  What did you want to be when you grew up?

            When I was little I wanted nothing more than to be a wizard or witch like on Harry Potter.  I use to tie a blanket like a cape on my back and run around like I was flying on a broom.

15.  Describe your favorite game growing up.

I created this game called good or bad and it was a Harry Potter based game. I and my brother would make this poses and if they were good then we got to wear the Harry Potter glasses the next round, if it was bad then you had to wear the “Death Eater cape”. We always had our dad judge too. 

This is Before:

This is two children,

siblings who just don’t understand

what their future holds.

Smile innocent and happy eyes

not holding any pain.

Spending time with a mother

who rather be at a bar.

Cheerful laughter and carefree wishes ,

not wanting for anything

because they think they have everything. 

Hearts held together

with love and

 not tape.  

This is before a decision is made

and a family is torn apart.

Before a mother leaves

and a father falls into his work.

Before money

was tight and

they didn’t understand

loss.

A time before the only place

they felt safe was

locked in their rooms.

Before words turned into weapons

and the only person

you had on your side is yourself.

When hiding your pain

became second nature

and you wore a permanent

mask from society.

This is before they lost themselves.

When you knew exactly

who you where and were happy by it.

Self loathing wasn’t around,

and there were no scars

on your arms.

Before you found a

way to block out pain

and the drunken words shouted became

a dull buzz.  

This is before you wished

for physical pain

because the words became too much.

Your tears are dried up

and you forgot what a true smile is.

Before friends left, and school

was a escape from home.

People who used

to say that rhyme about sticks and stones

as if broken bones hurt

more than the names we got called. 

Hiding in your own world

because the real one was too hard. 

This is before. 

Books For Kids:

Title of book: Harold and the Purple Crayon 

Author of book: Crockett Johnson

Is there an authors bio in the front or back of book?: No

What does it say about the author?: Nothing but a name

Describe the cover in a detailed sentence: The cover depicts a young boy in blue footed pajamas holding a purple crayon and drawing all over the cover. The cover is a dark purple the words are a light purple crayon is just regular purple. 

Number of Pages: 64 

List the Characters: Harold, Crayon 

Describe the settings and a detailed sentence: The setting is drawn out by Harold starting on a long path in the moonlight, then a small forest with only one tree. The tree is an apple tree being guarded by a dragon, then you are in a boat, then a city then his bedroom and he is going to sleep.

Summarize the book in 3 sentences: Harold's imagination leads him to draw with his purple crayon. First he goes to a forest after taking a walk on a long path in the moonlight. He gets scared by Dragon and the drying himself through the ocean, a city and then back to his own bed. 

Does this book...: 
Have animals as characters: Er.. No not really
Teach a lesson of some kind: kind of
Have monsters or creatures: Yes
Have kids as characters: Yes, Harold
Have adults as characters: No.
Use humor: Yes some
Use illustrations: Yes
Use color: Yes
Use actual photos: No 
Have a more sentimental or lovey tone: No, not really
Use lots of words per page: Nope.
One word or phrase repeated throughout: No... Er kind of I guess

Copy down your favorite or most interesting sentence in the book: "... As he walked along with the moon wishing he was in his room in his bed..."

What age do you think this book would be appropriate: 2-10 Why? It's not too grown-up but not too young either.

Is this a book he would like to have as a kid: Why yes of course, I actually read it quiet often. 

Smoke of an Artist

    Smoke rose slowly up towards the ceiling, billowing around the room before vanishing. The room was a mixed smell of paint, smoke and coffee. The floor covered in plastic to keep from staining it with paint. A canvas sits on a stand in the middle of the room by the window where the day’s light glow’s onto the drying paint. A work of art most would call it and artist inner most pain. A man stands off to the side, a cigarette in his hand and a paint brush in the other.  His hands have been permanently stained with the colors of his work. Blue’s and reds; browns and gold’s and greens, all the color’s fill the canvas, and the man’s old hands.  The painting screamed sorrow, but the man just seemed broken. Like all the emotion’s he had were no longer in him but now littering his hands, floor and the canvas. The sorrow of his soul out for the world to see and though most would call him crazy for doing it, the man never felt more better in his whole life. Empty head, heavy heart and broken soul, but yet he was a free as a bird. 

Smoke rose slowly

up towards the ceiling,

billowing around the room

 before vanishing.

The room was a mixed smell

 of paint,

smoke and coffee.

The floor covered

in plastic

to keep from staining

 it with paint.

 A canvas sits

on a stand

in the middle of the room

 by the window

where the day’s light

 glow’s onto the drying paint.

 A work of art

most would call it

and artist inner

most pain.

A man stands

off to the side,

 a cigarette in his hand

and a paint brush in the other.  

His hands

have been permanently stained

with the colors of his work.

Blue’s and reds;

browns and gold’s and greens,

all the color’s fill the canvas,

 and the man’s old hands.  

The painting

 screamed sorrow,

 but the man just seemed

 broken.

Like all the emotion’s

he had were no

longer in him

but now littering

 his hands,

floor

and the canvas.

The sorrow of

 his soul

 out for the world

 to see

 and though most

 would call him

 crazy

for doing it,

the man never felt more better

 in his whole life.

Empty head,

heavy heart

 and broken soul,

but yet he was

as free as a

 bird. 

Facing Fears and Late night Talks: Regina and Henry

   
Henry slipped silently out of his bedroom and down the hallway of his home. He couldn’t sleep and the storm wasn’t making things any better.

    Ever since he can remember, Henry has been afraid of thunderstorms, to the point he hated them. When they were really bad he wouldn’t even be able to move. He would just freeze up and stay in place. His parents always said he would go to them if he was scared, but it was late and he didn’t want to bother them. He knew his dad had to be at the office early in the morning, and if he was woken up he would be in a grumpy mood for the rest of the day. Unlike him and his mom, his father was not much of a morning person.

    Henry froze when a very bad clap of thunder boomed close and he backed up into a wall. "Stop being such a baby and get moving, Henry!' He thought to himself. Maybe he should have woken up his parents.

    "Henry? What are you doing up sweetie? Can't sleep?" Henry sighed in relief when he heard his mother’s voice behind him.

     "I'm fine mom," Henry replied.

     "Come on, how about some hot cocoa?" His mom asked with a soft smile.

    "Sure, thanks mom." Henry said with a blush. He was eleven years old – he shouldn't need his mom to help him walk around in his own home during a thunderstorm! His mother slipped her arm around his and together they walked to the kitchen.

    Once they were inside, Regina began making the hot cocoa on the stove. She often said that hot cocoa tasted better made on the stove than in the microwave and Henry had to agree. Once the hot cocoa was beginning to heat up, he and his mom sat down at the table.

    "Are you okay, Henry? You didn't answer my question, would you like to sleep with us?" his mom asked softly, placing a hand on his.

   "I'm fine mom, really." Henry said, not looking at her.

    "Henry, I'm your mother. Don't you think I know when you're not fine?" his mom asked, still speaking in that soft voice of hers.

     Henry sighed. "It's just so frustrating. No one else my age is afraid of thunderstorms. Why do I have to be different?"

     His mom gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hand gently. "I know that it can be difficult, but Henry, everyone has something that they're afraid of and every time you face your fears you're becoming stronger." she said.

    "I know all that, it's just embarrassing when I'm at school or a friend's house and it's raining really badly," Henry said.

   

 "I know sweetie, I know. I'm sure that things will get better. I mean, you may not realize this, but you've come a long way since you were younger. When you were younger, you wouldn't even leave a room when it was storming really hard and now you do. I'm sure it'll pass as you get older." his mom said.

    "I just wish I wouldn't be afraid of thunderstorms at all." Henry muttered under his breath.

    "I know you do sweetheart, but you are making progress and I'm sure you won't even realize it's raining soon enough." his mom told him.

    "I hope so." Henry said.

    Regina got up to check the hot cocoa and made them both a cup. "After this I want you to go to bed, okay dear?" his mom said, handing him his cup of hot cocoa.

    Henry nodded and blew on his cup before taking a couple of sips.

   "Are you sure you don't want to sleep with us tonight, sweetie?" his mom asked.

    His mom's words from earlier popped into his head – "every time you face your fears, you're becoming stronger." She was right; he had to face his fears and he was sure that there were people out there that had faced worse fears than thunderstorms.

    "Thanks, but no thanks, mom. Like you said, I have to face my fears." Henry said.

   His mom gave him a smile and said, "Remember, dear, you don't have to face your fears alone."

   "I know, but I'll be fine, thanks." Henry said with a small smile of his own.

  He was a big boy and big boy were supposed to be brave, and that is exactly what he was going to be.

The Darkness of Hallow Manor

         The air was like ice; Goosebumps appeared on my skin and with every step I took it felt like my very soul was freezing over.  Like the hope had been sucked right out of me and I had nothing left to live for. Slowly, I drop to my knees on the faded carpet, my light blue eyes staring at the front door with an empty emotion. “Kota can’t leave… You can’t get out.”  A voice laughed at me in a harsh whisper. It was right. I wasn’t going to get out. With the last of my strength, I lay on the cold floor and curled up. My breathing slowing until it was like I was dead and I let my soul become one with the house. 

~Earlier that day; Halloween 2005~

            “Morgan! Don’t go too far from the house!” I called out to the little girl, her Dorothy dress swaying as she skipped around the yard. A small smile made its way onto my face as I leaned against the front door. My little sister was collecting flowers for her basket. She said it was only right for Dorothy to have flowers. I could hear my mother moving around in the kitchen as she finished up cookies, my brother in his room probably messing around with his costume. He was a pirate cowboy this year. Shaking my head, I let my eyes drift down the road a little to the old cemetery right next to Hallow Manor.  The oldest house in the whole town, and the most haunted.

             Hallow Manor had been built in the 1800’s by a man named Zachary Hallow. He was also the founder of the town, and was filthy rich. His wife, Mary Margret Hallow was a beautiful, fair and graceful lady. She had pride in her garden and her only child. A little girl named Marbella. Tragedy struck Hallowvile when a fire broke out across the country side and soon reach the town. Hallows manor one of the buildings caught in the fire, but it didn’t burn all the way. Mary and Marbella were caught in the house and trapped while Mr. Hallow was out of town.  Mrs. Hallow somehow found her way out but not without horrible burns.  The entire left side of her face and body was burnt to the point she nearly died. The lady didn’t care though, as she cried into her sisters arms. No, all that matter was the screaming coming from the little girl, trapped on the second floor.  Marbella died, October 31, 1843 at the age of 5, no one found her body. Mary Margret Hallow died August 17, 1846, three years after Marbella at the age of 31. Every now and then people will say they can still hear the anguish cries of Mrs. Hallow, as the ghostly figure haunts the halls of Hallow manor trying to find her daughter. Mr. Hallow is seen walking the hallways, every March the sound of a gunshot is heard through town, a memory from 1849. Despite the town wanting to refurbish the old Manor, no one dares to go near it least they face the wrath of the lonely Mrs. Hallow.

“Kota! Kota!” Morgan’s excited voice broke me out of my thoughts and I turned light blue eyes down to look at my younger sister.  Her deep brown eyes sparkled up at me as she held up a hand full of flowers. “They match my dress!” She said, and I couldn’t help but smile at her. The five year old skipped into the house to show their mother her flowers. It was nearing the time for people to start trick or treating, but yet the streets have never looked some empty before. I could only wonder as to what was going on.

            “Heehee…hee.” I jumped, hearing the sound of giggling to my left and quickly looked out into the yard only to see a slight glimpse of a little girl run across the street. Morgan was still inside, so who was that? Pulling my jacket around my body more, I trekked across the yard and to the curb, trying to spot the girl. “Hee hee, Kota.” There it was again, and this time it said my name. Light blue eyes searched the yards before landing on Hallow Manor. Squinting a little I tried to make out the blurred figure waving at me from inside the yard. “Come play with me, Kota.” The voice was soft, but had an eerie tone to it, making me shiver a little. “Come on… Be brave Dakota.” I told myself, pulling the hood of my jacket over my head and started to make my way to the old Manor. “Play Kota… Play.” The little girl said again before appearing to vanish then reappears on the porch. “Hey! You could get hurt up there!” I called out, and picked up the pace, rapidly making my way to the front of the yard. As I walked up to the porch, I could feel something in my soul calling out to me, begging me to enter the house. I didn’t know at the time, that this would be the last time I saw day.

The door opened without much resistance, a slight wind blew across the entryway of the house, taking a few stray leaves and dust with it. “Hello?” I called out, wondering where the little girl went. She couldn’t have gotten far, and I should at least hear her footsteps. Light blue eyes drifted across the room, taking in the old furniture and dusty stairs leading to the next level of the house. An old grandfather’s clock stood off to the side, its face broken and glass littered on the floor around out. A few pictures are still hanging on the wall; some on the floor there glass covering shattered and the picture faded. “Come… Kota… come see.” I heard the little girl again, and quickly looked up the stairs to see her standing at the top, bright green eyes peered at me intensely. The look was foreign on the young girls face and I felt compelled to go to here, see what she wants to show me. As if in a trance, I slowly made my way up the stairs, hearing them creak under my steps and with every step closer, the girl smiled. “Come…” She whispered, holding out her hand, and I didn’t even hesitate to take hold of it. The girl’s pail blonde hair bounced around her shoulders as she led me towards a room near the back of the upstairs. Her soft voice humming a tune that strangely sounded familiar. We reached the room and the girl spared me a look before walking through the door. Stunned, I stared at the door for a few moments until it felt like something pushed my forwards and I opened the door.

Nervous blue eyes took in the room, once the door opened. The little girl was sitting on the only bed, an old and falling apart doll in her hands. The room was rather large; one wall was black and looked like it was falling apart while the rest of the room was a faded purple color. The bed was on the left side of the room against a faded wall. The bed was bare, except for the girl and had something red on the middle of it. The red was also splattered on the wall and floor around the bed. Toys and stuffed animals that I didn’t recognize littered the floor and there was a trail of blankets leading to the broken door of the closet on the right. The whole closet was black and burnt, a small bundle of what appeared to be clothes and blankest lie in the back corner of the closet.

“My room…” The girl whispered, still focusing on her doll. I blinked back to her when she spoke before slowly making my way across the room. “How is it your room? It belonged to Marbella Hallow, surely you aren’t her.” I said, looking curiously at the little girl who so bravely entered the haunted house. Who was I to judge when I also entered the house. “Bella is me… Mama called me Bella.” The girl’s eerie voice spoke and those deep green eyes met my light blue eyes.

Wait, did she just say she is Marbella? That’s impossible though, Marbella died over a hundred years ago. Who is this little girl, claiming to be the dead daughter of the very founder of the town? Maybe I should take her home; Mom should know whose kid this is. “Bella…” I started, figuring I should call her by the name she called herself. “Why don’t you come home with me and my mother can give you some nice cookies and we can get you home?” I asked, hoping the girl would agree. “Kota isn’t leaving… Kota stays with Bella and Mama. Mama will like Kota.” Marbella replied, her face breaking out into a smile before she just vanished from in front of me. Just like that she was gone, and I was left standing in a Childs room, completely shocked at what I had just seen.

       Ghost… can’t really be real… right?