1,2,3,4… 30

Thump…

That’s all she heard, she raised her sleepy head, and suddenly a rush of blood flew quick through her veins and her entire body.

She can hear his name being called through his phone, “_______, are you okay?”

Call the police she yelled to the receiver hoping she’d hear, “Call the police!”

“What did you take?” she screamed, “what did you take?”

He couldn’t understand her. Not anymore than she could understand him.

She screamed, as she dropped the phone. The conversation she was having hung from her thigh with the voice of another “friend,” that, had she listened, was telling her what was wrong with him.

“Oh god, what the fuck did you take! Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

“Help! Somebody help me!” Her voice cracked, as she screamed to the top of her lungs.”

“My brother, my brother, something is wrong with my brother…” she said into the receiver of her phone.

She hung up the phone, and then dialed 9-1-1

Time didn’t stop, but, it moved very slow.

She could see the room spinning…

“Get yourself together K, you have to save him!” she yelled mentally.

She could barely make up her words, she tried to tell the dispatcher something serious was wrong…

The dispatcher had heard her, “I know mam, we just received a call, police is on the way, can you confirm the address…”

“east… yeah east”

“Mam, we need you to calm down please, he is most likely having a seizure.”

“He isn’t breathing! He isn’t breathing! He is purple! His lips, his face, he’s purple!”

She drops the phone…

“CPR! I know CPR, Iv’e known CPR since I was 15…”

“What is the count? What is the fucken count!?”

“Oh god, Oh god, Moooooommmmm pllllleeassseeee!”

push 1, push 2, push 3, push 4, push 5, push 6, push 7, push 8, push 9, push 10, push 11, push 12, push 13, push 14, push 15…

Tilt, Blow. Blow.

“No! It’s fucken 30!” she yelled, mentally.

“What the fuck did you take? Moooommmmm!”

Push 1, push 2, push 3, push 4, push 5, push 6, push 7, push 8, push 9, push 10, push 11…

tears running down her face, she can not believe this is happening…

“Why would this happen?,” she thought.

“No way is he going like this…” she mumbled mentally.

“Mom, I freaken need you, pleaseee!”

Push 12, push 13, push 14, push 15, push 16, push 17, push 18, push 19, push 20, push 21, push 22, push 23, push 24, push 25, push 26, push 27, push 28, push 29, push 30

Tilt, BLOW and… BLOW.

GASP, he rises and tries to lean forward.

Siiggghhhh, “Thank you mom,” she whispered as her tears fell into her mouth.

“No, no, no don’t move please, don’t move…” she told him…

She ran out and yelled, “Help! Someone one please help me!”

Flash lights coming through, police walked up, walked in, and took over.

She was cold, and at the same time sweaty.

She was scared, and at the same time proud.

She was worried.

“Can you hug me?,” she asked as she stood outside with someone.

“Can you please just hug me very tight?”

Heart beating fast, breathing oh, so, difficult.

Anxiety expanding and spreading through her body.

Body felt like collapsing…

Officer, “Are you the mother? Can I speak to you? What happen?”

1,2,3,4,5 … breathe.

-Kbeautfiulmind

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Hello Dear WordPress Followers,

I’d to take this moment to thank you all for reading my work, for being fans of what I write and believe in since I created my blog.

I’d also like to address that I’m working on writing more this year, expanding my words to touch more lives, and to share that I have some new and fun exciting project ideas on the way!

I’ve decided to create a “Professional Instagram” page, were I’d like to expose my poetry, quotes, short stories, advise through my knowledge, and display my soon to come videos or audio recordings!

I hope you all will follow and join me in this exciting journey!

Instagram: Kbeautifulmind__ (those are two _ _ )

Thanks y’all! I’m excited!

XO,

Kbeautifulmind

2017 

Hard working people getting deported, racism and sexism on the rise. Health care and rent is barely affordable, striving for more and we stacking up on debt. Raising a child is difficult, the outer influences over power what you teach them in doors. Drug use becoming the norm, addiction the escape people go for. Making “easy money” seems to be the goal; exploiting our bodies, minds and souls. Fourteen year old girls want make up and boys, 14 year old boys no longer want to be boys as they wish they were “men” respected as one, not realizing these bigotes aren’t even man enough. No one wants to work for it anymore, and all they do is wine. 2017 you’d think we be progressing, but with the way things are we look like we’re oppressing. Oppressing the rights humans deserve, neglecting the fights our ancestor leaders died for.

Where is the love? Peace and harmony?

Why don’t we idolize to love and believe?

Fighting each other, killing and destroying one another.

Physically and emotionally, driving each other to lunacy.

We should be ashamed.

-Kbeautifulmind

1095


I lay here and look over at the box.

The pretty, pretty box you most definitely would have loved.

You didn’t pick it out, but I knew when I saw it that the colors, the shape, and the image imprinted represented the perfect place for your ashes to rest.

I look at the picture of us on the wall to the right of the box.

What I’d give to have you here again.

I close my eyes, tears begin to run down…

I allow the moment to take me back to that day.

I remember the garden like it was yesterday, the leaves were beginning to fall off from many of the trees.

The oranges we picked were so delighting to taste.

The wind was the perfect breeze, it was a chilly day but the sun was shinning and it helped keep us warm enough.

The laughs, the annoyance with the boys not wanting to take pictures anymore, and the shit talking we all did to each other.

“Just like super models…” said the photographer, and we gave each other a funny face and laughed.

You with that shy smile, and me with my perky giggle.

I miss you.

I miss bugging you for pictures.

I miss your laughter.

Your shy smile.

Your ridiculous jokes.

I miss your accent.

I miss your shit talking.

“Why you smile? Is not funny!”

I miss it all.

I miss taking care of you.

I wish I would have done it sooner, better.

Heck, I even miss rubbing your feet one thing I dreaded growing up…

“Mom, again!”

“Please, I am tired, I had a long day.”

“Ugh, fine but just FIVE minutes.”

I even miss fighting with you.

I want to fight with you.

Instead of fighting with them…

I want to fight with you.

Instead of fighting to making it through this…

I rather be fighting with you, instead of fighting myself to hold on.

1095 days. 1095 days since you been gone, and I’d give anything even just to fight with you again.

-Kbeautifulmind

Life can be a bit stressful at times.

Situations can make you hopeless and at times make you want to just give up!

I got two word of advise for you…

Be Joyful

Life is a difficult journey but, besides that it is a beautiful journey and no matter what you are going through…

you are going to be okay.

As long as you are joyful…

hopeful…

you are going to be okay.

-Kbeautfulmind

How I started writing…

When I was younger, I’d shut down.

My way of dealing with my emotions, was to not speak to anyone.

My mom hated it!

When I was about twelve, or so?

My mom started dating a guy who she was really excited about, and during that time she was leaving me more with my sitter to go on dates with him.

I got home after dance one night asking her “what’s for dinner? Did you make enchiladas!?” (excited voice)

Her response was… “No, I’m going to order you a pizza instead, your nina is going to watch you and I’ll be home a little later.”

I was so upset…

I shut down, went into my room, and locked the door.

My mom kept asking me to open the door, and I wouldn’t respond.

I made her skip the date.

Hours later she was angry and yelled “Kelsey, pro favor! Stop this, what is going on?”

I opened the door and yelled “I’ll tell you what’s going on, you are so worried about being a (insert mean word here) that you don’t care about me anymore!”

SMACK!

My mom smacked me so hard, she bruised my face.

My mom had never hit me, ever.

But I had also NEVER called her anything like I did that night.

Days later…

Many sorry’s later…

I still was not speaking to my mom.

So she bought me a Journal.

and she said…

“You don’t need to talk to me. You don’t need to forgive me. But you have to stop doing this to yourself! I’m worried about you mija, whenever anything happens, at school, here, ANYTHING, even stuff that isn’t under your control, you shut down! This isn’t good for your health, it doesn’t help me understand what’s wrong, and it scares me.

So do it for you, for me, or for who ever but let it out some way?”

I remember looking at that journal thinking… This is stupid…

and many journals later…

about four years ago…

I opened my blog…

Kbeautifulmind.com

My grammar STINKS.

I get criticized ALL THE TIME.

My friends text me…

“Hey you miss spelled”

“Hey you forgot this”

“Hey that is supposed to say this”

I was the kid who was good at math.

However, writing makes me feel better, it helps me and I know some of my pieces have helped others.

So, no matter how much criticism I receive.

I am a writer.

-Kbeautifulmind

The difference

The difference between the others and I, is that they just want him.
They look and see him for his body, those eyes, and oh that smile.
I don’t want him, his body isn’t worth much to me.
His looks are just a charming thing to see, but they won’t make me better.
I want to support him, motivate him, and encourage him.
I want to listen to him, understand him, and watch him grow.
You see, the difference between them and I, is that I actually see him.
When I look at him I don’t just see his physical appearance.
I see his soul and feel his energy that represent him as an individual.
The difference between the others and I, is that…
I actually want to know him and love him unconditionally.
-Kbeautifulmind