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He found a pair of socks under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Exhausted, he squinted his eyes tightly and stood up, beginning to pace the room. Harry, the soulful sleepyhead, hadn't gotten to sleep in a solid 48 hours. Stumbling around led him to his jacket and he walked out of the cramped room. He walked down the stairs and gasped when he tripped down them. Scraping his heel caused him to let out a painful cry. Terrified, he stood up with shaking legs. He stormed down the rest of the stairs and pulled on his jacket. Walking out the door, he wiped the tears that had come to his eyes.

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Subject: New Blog!                                    5/16/18

Dear reader,

I’ve started this blog because of the strangest string of events. I'm Evan, by the way… I can’t tell you my real name. Anyways, the last three years of my life had been spent in a prison in Ukraine. I don’t remember much, but they injected me with strange fluids daily. Afterwards, I was free to spend the day how I liked. They brought me books, as I’d requested, and I spent my days reading. One day, they gave me the injection, as usual, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was terribly frightened, but they said I was free to go.

I felt more energized than I ever had been and grabbed the first plane to New York, my villain-infested hometown. There was something different though… I was having constant headaches and every muscle in my body was aching. I looked down and saw writing develop over my skin. The words were from all the books I’d read in prison! My body reflected the words of George Orwell, William Shakespeare, and Agatha Christie. I quickly changed into a suit and tie, putting on my glasses. I rushed to work at the library. What would I tell them? When I arrived, I was met with my boss’s concerned face. He asked me what happened and I told him of the last three years.

“Did you have a mental breakdown? I know you missed work for three years, you don’t need to lie to me about what happened.” I huffed and responded with a quote from Shakespeare.

“Know more than other. Work more than other. Expect less than other.” As I spoke, my skin burned and I ripped open my shirt. The words had appeared on my skin. My boss screamed and ran the other way. I felt humiliated! What was happening to me? I burst through the doors of the library and saw a girl crying. I stumbled over to her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey… What’s wrong?” I asked.

She looked up and let out a sob. “I was just rejected from college!”

I quickly quoted George Orwell. “Every generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the other one that went before, and wiser than the one that comes after it.”

She smiled. “Maybe if I base my entrance paper around that, they’ll let me in!”

“Sounds great!” I winced, feeling my skin burn again.

I walked off and arrived at home, tearing off my clothes and putting on something more comfortable. It was obvious that I wasn't going to keep my job at the library. I would help the people of my city and save the world with one random act of kindness at a time! I changed into a plaid suit and tie made of very smooth and moveable material (so that if I needed to, I could RUSH to the rescue). I would be called The Bookworm! I would give a quote to every person I saved. I turned on the news and saw a live action camera around a bank. A bomb was placed on 5 kidnapped citizens! I grabbed The Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller and raced to the bank. I stepped around the officers and walked right into the doors and into the bank.

“Hello! I'm here to stop you.” Oh, I really needed to work on my entrances. The man laughed and walked toward me, pulling out a gun.

“Why should I give up all my hard work?” He asked, pointing the gun directly at my forehead. I flipped open to a random page in the book.

“Why are you trying to become what you don’t want to be when all you want is out there, waiting for you the minute you say you know who you are?” I asked. Tears filled his eyes and he cried out.

“You're right! I want to become a dancer!”

“Then go, and be the best dancer out there.” He dropped the gun and unclipped the bombs from the civilians, running off to the cops. “We’re good you guys. He won’t terrorize New York anymore.” I smiled, slipping a quote on the ground and running off before they could ask who I was.

Just like the man I stopped, I wanted to be someone else. A superhero seemed to be the thing for me! I ran inside my house and got my car keys, turning on the news and waiting for my next adventure.

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He heard a low hissing sound, like a very large snake. Through the forest came a gigantic lizard, biting and snapping it's teeth ferociously. The snake moved towards the two children, a devious smirk on its face.  Archie, the red-headed scholar, turned on his heel and ran away screaming like a baby. But Joan, the quick-witted hunter, moved into a fighting stance. Leaping onto the tree trunk, Archie began to cry pathetically, snot dripping out of his nose. Joan grabbed the lizard and snapped its neck roughly. “That was easy.” She muttered, dryly.

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Single Image Memoir - Meeting My Inspirations

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Single Image Memoir - Meeting My Inspirations

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“Do you remember that episode? The angels were talking to Lucifer about the Darkness!” I asked the people around me, excitement evident in my voice. While talking, I could still taste the Pop Tarts I had downed for breakfast. The people around me (Perry, Alison, and Ava) laughed as they recalled the episode.

We were going to the Opryland Center for the Supernatural Convention. We had been waiting to go since January of 2015 and now it was February 2016. At the convention, we were going to meet the men we had called our inspirations.
My parents were in Florida, so I was riding with Perry Sherwood’s family. We finally found a parking spot in the crowded lot and filed in. We spotted hundreds of people gathered in a large room and assumed that's where the panels would take place.

Once we found our seats, we sat down and saw a man walk onstage with his band. It was Rob Benedict and his band, Louden Swain. Rob, who played "God"in Supernatural, had a small band that he wrote songs with in his free time. They had always come to perform at the conventions.

After they played a few songs, another man walked onstage. His name was Mark Pellegrino and he played Lucifer. I turned to my friends and recited a line from memory that Mark’s sassy character had voiced. They laughed for a minute while Mark got settled to talk.

The panel made me laugh until I had tears in my eyes. I looked over and saw Richard Speight peek from behind the curtains. He played the angel Gabriel, who was my favorite character.

“Those meeting Misha Collins, make your way downstairs to get a picture. Bring your ticket!” I smiled at this, and grabbed my ticket.

“Are any of you guys tickets 1-50?” I asked. They had to take smaller groups to get pictures so things weren't so crowded.

They replied with a harmonious ‘no’ and I began to get fairly anxious. This was the first time I was going to meet someone who was even remotely famous and my friends and family weren't coming with me?

What if I tripped? What if I cried? What if I was awkward? I walked down the steps, my hands shaking. I ended up fairly close to the front of the line where there were hallways intersecting. It was adjacent the small room where the photos would take place.

Suddenly, a figure was walking down the hallway. He waved right at me. Since he was hardly two feet away, I could tell who it was. Misha Collins was walking right past me! I was going to meet the man who played Castiel and my heart was pounding. Something about seeing these men in real life made me nervous. They weren't just on a screen anymore. I could physically greet them and say ‘hi’ to them. The lady in front of me told me I was in for a treat when I explained it was my first convention.

Looking around, it seemed like I was the youngest in the room. That just scared me even more. Before I knew it, I was next. The woman taking up tickets told me to take a deep breath.

I crept forward, not able to make eye contact with him. He wrapped his arm around me and we looked towards the camera. Smiling, I held my breath. I was next to Misha Collins! The camera flashed with a click and time stopped.

This had to be a dream. Maybe I’ll try pinching myself. No, I was really here. I looked over and saw Misha lean down to my level. He flashed his signature grin and rubbed up and down my back. I could smell his cinnamon cologne. People had told me that he smelled like cinnamon and watermelon. Boy, were they right!

I gave an insecure smile, my mouth full of braces. He leaned forward and said,

“Hey, take a deep breath.” He encouraged. I chuckled softly and stepped off of the mat.

Perry’s father and my friend Ava were there to greet me in the hallway. I rushed out of the small, four-walled photography room and caught my friends eyes. I ran into her arms and she squealed.

“How was it?” She questioned. My eyes teared up.

“Amazing! He was so sweet. I was so nervous.” I had just met my inspiration, and I was feeling the effects of it. Everyone outside the room was trying to catch a glimpse of Misha, all the while telling me I did a great job.

What for? I’ll tell you. I had seen stories of people meeting their favorite celebrity, but now I knew what it feels like. You can’t possibly perceive what’s happening until it’s done, but it’s certainly something to remember.

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On a crowded bookshelf, a sloppily painted piece of artwork sits. Sunglasses, broken and useless, are tucked closely by. An overdue Redbox movie, The Space Between Us, is thrown askew. Books about Arabian princes and unused journals lie on the shelves. Two gifts cards,  two bibles, two dollar bills, and two phone cases are scattered and propped up on the top shelf. A Magic 8 Ball and thumbtacks are pressed between the wall and my yearbooks. A horse made of hay and wood has fallen over by the first shelf of crooked books. One leather glove is placed by the second shelf I've dedicated to "unread, but soon to read" books. A fidget cube for me, the tall girl with anxiety, next to a fake I.D. I held while taking a picture with my idol. Overall, the shelf of books and memories is an absolute mess.