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I stretched my short arms as high above my head as I could reach, hands intertwined, my brain slowly coming out of the foggy realms that I traveled to every night. I brought my hands back down, yawning, now mostly awake. As I was slowly climbing out from under the covers stubby legs hitting the floor, my mother burst into my room singing loudly, and off-key I might add, her personal version of “Happy Birthday”. She stopped singing abruptly, a bemused, quizzical grin on her face. “Oh,” she said loudly. “So, you’re awake already, eh?”
I groaned. “Yes Mommy, I’m awake already.” Almost as sPersonalities can Change5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

The Dawn of Your Eighth YearMy mother woke me up at seven on my birthday. It was a big event, she’d told me the day before, turning eight. It was a milestone. Like landing on the moon.

I was curled on my side under the covers, wrapped protectively around myself, when I opened my eyes to see her face smiling back at me. She had the look of a wholesome country girl, with the sun-bleached auburn hair that was in a sloppy knot at the back of her head; the faint sunburn from the day before that stained her swatch of a nose; the dusting of freckles across her cheeks; and those wide, brilliant eyes that had had men calling from miles and miles away. She was a true southeThe Dawn of Your Eighth Year5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

Eight Years Upon This Earth When I try to remember back to my eighth birthday, I find it to be very much like a couple of ferrets attempting to roll over an elephant; that is, completely and utterly futile. You see, I have a memory like a sieve. Well, not quite a sieve, more like a safe that I can’t always remember the combination to. And at the moment that set of numbers is missing, so I remember nothing of my eighth birthday. No presents, no celebration, no cake, no pageantry. It’s all a blank and all I can do is speculate. And that is what I intend to do with this paper. So now follow me as I dive over the edge and into the deep end as I attemptEight Years Upon This Earth5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

8 Was Never My Lucky Number8 Was Never My Lucky Number

The blazing sun rays blasting through the window forced my eyes open. I stared at my glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling while trying to gather the energies required to get up. It didn’t take long after realizing the date, which caused me to jump up excitedly.

“8th of August, crud…!” I murmured.

It was my eighth birthday. Now usually I’d be overjoyed on that date like any other young child, but not this year. I looked at my watch, it was still early: 10 am… I wasn’t born until 6 pm, so I still had 8 hours until then. 8 hours to do what you wonder? So did I. Technically 8 Was Never My Lucky Number5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

The Small WorldAt eight years old, like most children (usually girls), I considered myself as very 'adult', but then again, I always was compared to most others my age. I only had one friend during the whole of my first school who, now I look back at it, wasn't quite exactly right; she never got along with the others and because I was the only one mature enough to see past her odd mistakes I was isolated and as unpopular as she was. Even at this young age, I still knew that I was a loner.

But on a little girl's birthday, they always feel like the star of the show. A birthday is the one day you can get away with asking people to do things for you instead ofThe Small World5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

Dawn of Eight Year I saw him, dawdling towards me with that serious look on his oval face. His azure eyes shone in the dark and I blushed as he moved an inch closer towards me. He whispered softly, “I…”
THUD! I felt pain in my back and I realised that I had fallen from my bed. “Shit, why does my wonderful dream have to stop at that time? He could’ve said ‘I think you’re the best-looking chocolate in the world!’ and I’d be the happiest girl on Earth!”
I checked my alarm and was dumbfounded when I knew that it was 8 am already. I was supposed to be up since a few hours ago, making a 8 layered cake for my 8th Dawn of Eight Year5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

pithos pandoras5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

CMYK5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

this mornsun
through the window it did break,
and settle on my face.
waking to smells of chocolate,
smells of cake.

I am sad,
for i am that much closer,
closer to wisdom,
closer to death.

run
down mountain stairs,
and slip to the bottom.
crying into my mothers shoulder,
into my mothers hair.

i am sad,
for already it is closer,
closer to the close,
closer to the end.

eat
all the sweet things i find,
and feel only to regret it later.
sick all over sally's pretty dress,
sick because i hate her.

i am sad,
for i am not seven,
and ten is closing in,
closing in on my soul.

sleep,
till tommorrow comes,
knowing that i dont have tithis morn5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

4-19 Childrens' birthday parties are sacred things. At least, everyone would have you believe so. What with petting zoos, those moon-bouncy things, and multi-colored doilies, some kids have blowouts that they'll cherish forever. And some saps won't.

I'm one of those saps. It's not like I was really looking forward to a party anyway. I knew even then that nothing was fun about letting 30 people into your home, having them eat your food, touching your stuff, puking into your dog's bowl, and leave. I knew it was doomed when my mom was ordering a cake:
"Which one?"
"That one."
"Too small."
"This one?"
"Too expensive."
"This one."
"Ohhh, no c4-195 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

Candles and wishesCandles and Wishes

A large kitchen filled with familiar faces
Colorfully wrapped gifts off to the side
A beautifully frosted cake with eight candles
A girl standing in front of the dessert
While another year of life is marked

Light from the other room seeps in
While candles illuminate the girl’s face
While another year of life is marked

Echoes from singing fade away
Replaced with encouraging murmurs
A loud whoosh blows over the candles
While another year of life is marked

What did you wish for?
Would you like to open presents now?
How do you feel being another year older?
While another year is marked?

Warmth
Candles and wishes5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

8th BirthdayGet up, get up, get up!
What was so important about today again?
OH, it's my birthday, of course! I'm so jittery I couldn't sleep.
But is sleep really needed, when you're only turning eight?
I'm so jittery, I bet if I weren't so sleepy, I'd fly away.

Oh, my door's opening, maybe it's my mom with mountains of presents!
Umm...it's the cat, never mind.
Well, she'll be in soon enough, right?

Wow...it's been two hours since then.
Perhaps my mom is still sleeping, it's only 10 in the afternoon.
I should stand and go out of my room, that'd be best.
My mom's up and now the jitters are coming back!

Of course I want my presents now, don't 8th Birthday5 years ago in The Dawn of your Eighth Year

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