Saturday. Saturday was the day I found out.
“What? What is it?” He’d asked.
“I don’t know.” I had snapped
“Well, Is it pink or what?”
“I don’t know” I repeated. “It hasn’t changed yet.” How long did these things usually take? A minute? Minutes? How many? I began to get dizzy, so I sat down, never taking my eyes off the little stick. This was it. This stick would tell me whether or not my fifteen year old life was ruined. Mom would kill me. Dad would break out of jail and set me on fire. Tom would… I looked over at Tom. He would leave me.
And sure enough, the stick turned pink.
Aedrian couldn’t wait until next Saturday, he was tired of having to han around Matthew all day. Mathew was beginning to be a little too… Extreme. Next Saturday, Aedrian would meet his new clients, some of which, were very hot, as he could tell from their profile picture on his blog. New clients meant new characters in bed. He just hoped they weren’t too demanding.
Nychole Lester
The natural sunlight hits my bare feet as I pour too much sugar on a grapefruit halve. its saturday as usual, and I don’t know where you are.
Stuart
its Saturday
its the least of my worries
its Saturday
its the least on my mind
i don’t know what to say
because its Sunday that I’m worried about today
i miss you
you left me
on Sunday and i want you bad
why don t you stop talking now
Carolyn
i dont do much on saturdays except live my life and say ill stay
in bed
i don’t know what i would do instead
it’s just saturday
and I’m alone.
Clare Manning
As Saturday creeps up, she’s ready to party. Champagne, chocolate, all those luxury items. Classy, not overboard. Behind this picture perfect lifestyle, a broken heart is dangling and a face full of disappointments.
He told me he’d be there on Saturday. “Nine o’clock, on the dot, I promise, babe,” I think his words were. Well, that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it? Promises- what stupid things.
Did he show up on Saturday, nine o’clock, on the dot? Of course not. He never showed up at all. But that’s the nature of things.
Anna
It was a lazy day. The best of days. The sort of day that time it self seems to go by too fast and too slow. A day you both despise as your mind wanders into dark deeds, and one that strikes that familiar happiness you felt as child.
Vincent
is automatically freedom to me. but in reality it is exhaustion, work, and future dissapointment. i know it will not be what i hope for. I’m missing past saturdays, fill the void.
Julia
It was a sunny saturday afternoon. The wind was blowing and the water was flat. It was the perfect sailing day. So, I rigged a boat and set sail, hoping to maybe, finally, get away from this place.
Maddie
It was late Saturday morning and the smell of crisp bacon just fried hung in the air. I followed the smell out of bed and into the kitchen where I found my husband in my favorite outfit, just pajama pants hung low and nothing else.
India
I’m fucking breaking. That one Saturday my heart exploded with feeling. I went from cutting just to feel, to smoking to not feel anything at all. and now that you’re back, I have nothing.
Hailey
It was Saturday when the world ended. Every single living thing died, everything but me.
I bet your wondering why, trust me, I am too.
It’s pretty lonely living in a world where there are no living creatures. The virus wiped them out. I don’t know why I didn’t get sick. I had to watch every single one of my family members die in my arms. The life just leaving their eyes. It’s enough to kill myself, but don’t worry, I didn’t. Not when there is a whole world to explore, I should really leave right now!
(Of course, I will have to ignore the smell of rotting flesh accumulating from the dead bodies littering the streets. Seeing their face expressions of pain and suffering, it’s almost too much to bear…..too much…just too…much..)
saturday is the popular day of the week: it is the high school, football quarterback. Everyone loves saturday. it’s flexible. it will be however lazy or crazy you want it to be. saturday is loved.
chrisssy
A very relaxing day for anyone who has worked all week. It’s a day that anyone who doesn’t work that day that is anticipated
ashley
I used to do Club Lyon on Saturday nights. It was the best time I’d ever had online. Sometimes I miss it, but all good things must end someday. I have my memories.
Jenni
It was saturday and she never went to sleep. She lied awake all night thinking of nothing. her head buzzing and never quite silencing.
Freedom.
How Else to Describe it?
Going to the Creek,
In the Small Little Nook Nobody Else Knows About,
Sketching Trees,
Daydreaming,
Writing,
Reading,
Singing,
A Day Free of School or Chores or Babysitting,
A Day to Be Myself and
Nothing More.
It was the cloudless sky that made me yearn for rain. Rain seemed to be the only thing that made sense these days. Love never really meant anything to me; just a rattling noise that bounced around in my head like a kid with a basketball. Tears started to spring from my eyes as I realized this was the Saturday that we first met. The Saturday that started everything.
Bethany
It was Saturday again, the day of days, my day of freedom and release. I went out as always, found a target, and did my thing. It was a good day.
Randy L. Moulton
Saturdays are fun. It brings Happiness. There is No work. it’s the Weekend. No school. Can have friend time. Can take Long trips. Vacation. Long Island
Em
is just another day. more time lost. more memories made.
Katie
It was a nice Saturday, fairly relaxing. I tugged at my braided hair as I paced back and forth, contemplating what to do with such a nice day. Within five minutes of that moment, no more contemplating was needed. A sudden crash arowsed my interest upstairs. I ran up the stairs only to be swept off my feet and tossed into a potato sack.
“A-Are you kidnapping me?!” I screamed through the thick, coarse fabric.
“I prefer the term “Suprise Adoption,” a deep, slow man’s voice responded.
Saturday! My head fills with the delights of lying in bed with the sun up. I forget that the bed is uncomfortable. Breakfast in bed. Yum! Only, it’s me who has to make it. Saturday paper in bed. On the the internet. Reality strikes when it’s least welcome. Sigh!
Betty Barker
saturday. it happens once a week! when i was little, a week was a circle! Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. And then over and over again!
Hannah
In the park. I think it was the fourth of July.
fdlks
Saturday; a day that everyone believes is the beginning of the weekend. That is the day i dread. My name is Charlie and every Saturday i have to eat fish. Fish is the grossest thing i have ever eaten in my whole entire life.
Hannah
saturn. old times they were worshiping stars. stars were gods to them. so they gave the name saturn to the day. it became saturday. a planet which was thought star-god.
Saturnata
I can’t wait for Saturday! MaeMae is coming and we’re sleeping over at Katy’s house…I haven’t seen MaeMae for over 9 months, and I’ve missed her so much…wow. I can’t wait! :D
saturdays are the best days, especially if it is funny, you can hang out with your friends at the river, saturdats makes me happy and in a very good mood, i love it when it is sunny.
isabella
cartoon, ice cream, sleeping in, afternoon walks. This is Saturday. It’s joy, relief, relaxation. its pure joy. It’s picnic and beaches, its everything you could want in a day. The problem is, it goes by far too fast.
Morgan
Saturday has to me the best day of the week. I mean, honestly, what other day do you have to just sit and lounge? Enjoy some nice tea, eat a good scone, ahhh happiness in its simplest form
Lola Warden
What is this?
j
Saturday, you are my favorite day of the week. A sense of rest, a sense of adventure are all within you. I feel as if I can do anything on a Saturday. The sun shines brighter and the storms are better. Saturday.
Madeline Farron
Saturday morning is a favorite day for me. We wake up every week and laze around in bed for hours. A late breakfast and walks in the park. No cell phones or lap tops, just me and my man. It’s a wonderful life.
smgood
I have no idea what I do on a Saturday. I mean, my day doesn’t exactly consist of much. Oversleep as usual, wake up, have breakfast/dinner, go upstairs, go on my computer, play video games, have my tea, get a shower, watch some TV, go back on my PC and go to bed. It’s not exactly the most active of lifestyles.
Stuart
Saturday was always one of my favourite days, until becoming a student. Saturday was always the day to relax and recharge but as a student I do that 24/7 anyway so now the day seems entirely pointless.
harriet
Saturday.
Lonely nights spent on the computer.
Tumblr: All day and all night.
Music in and out the musical ear.
Stuffing fat face full of food and Diet Mtn. Dew.
H0LLA.
Rylie Shoop
it was a saturday when the wicker chair broke. we were drinking coffee on the porch and my boyfriend peter sat down in it, and it just collapsed. it wasn’t because peter was heavy, it was just worn and aged and even if my little brother sat in it it would have broken. we could have warned him, but it was too late. peter was trying to stifle a laugh, while my mother tried to stifle a cry. “I’m sorry,” he said, regretful. “I didn’t know. I’ll buy you a new one-”
“But you can’t,” my mother said, more to her coffee than to him. “You can’t buy history and memories, so just leave it be and take the other seat.”
he took the other seat, and that was the last time we all had coffee together.
Saturday summer nights, with a bon fire and marshmellows. Mosquitoes flying and buzzing in your ears. What could possibly be better? Nothing. Where else would you want to be?
Saturday. Saturday was the day I found out.
“What? What is it?” He’d asked.
“I don’t know.” I had snapped
“Well, Is it pink or what?”
“I don’t know” I repeated. “It hasn’t changed yet.” How long did these things usually take? A minute? Minutes? How many? I began to get dizzy, so I sat down, never taking my eyes off the little stick. This was it. This stick would tell me whether or not my fifteen year old life was ruined. Mom would kill me. Dad would break out of jail and set me on fire. Tom would… I looked over at Tom. He would leave me.
And sure enough, the stick turned pink.
Aedrian couldn’t wait until next Saturday, he was tired of having to han around Matthew all day. Mathew was beginning to be a little too… Extreme. Next Saturday, Aedrian would meet his new clients, some of which, were very hot, as he could tell from their profile picture on his blog. New clients meant new characters in bed. He just hoped they weren’t too demanding.
The natural sunlight hits my bare feet as I pour too much sugar on a grapefruit halve. its saturday as usual, and I don’t know where you are.
its Saturday
its the least of my worries
its Saturday
its the least on my mind
i don’t know what to say
because its Sunday that I’m worried about today
i miss you
you left me
on Sunday and i want you bad
why don t you stop talking now
i dont do much on saturdays except live my life and say ill stay
in bed
i don’t know what i would do instead
it’s just saturday
and I’m alone.
As Saturday creeps up, she’s ready to party. Champagne, chocolate, all those luxury items. Classy, not overboard. Behind this picture perfect lifestyle, a broken heart is dangling and a face full of disappointments.
He told me he’d be there on Saturday. “Nine o’clock, on the dot, I promise, babe,” I think his words were. Well, that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it? Promises- what stupid things.
Did he show up on Saturday, nine o’clock, on the dot? Of course not. He never showed up at all. But that’s the nature of things.
It was a lazy day. The best of days. The sort of day that time it self seems to go by too fast and too slow. A day you both despise as your mind wanders into dark deeds, and one that strikes that familiar happiness you felt as child.
is automatically freedom to me. but in reality it is exhaustion, work, and future dissapointment. i know it will not be what i hope for. I’m missing past saturdays, fill the void.
It was a sunny saturday afternoon. The wind was blowing and the water was flat. It was the perfect sailing day. So, I rigged a boat and set sail, hoping to maybe, finally, get away from this place.
It was late Saturday morning and the smell of crisp bacon just fried hung in the air. I followed the smell out of bed and into the kitchen where I found my husband in my favorite outfit, just pajama pants hung low and nothing else.
I’m fucking breaking. That one Saturday my heart exploded with feeling. I went from cutting just to feel, to smoking to not feel anything at all. and now that you’re back, I have nothing.
It was Saturday when the world ended. Every single living thing died, everything but me.
I bet your wondering why, trust me, I am too.
It’s pretty lonely living in a world where there are no living creatures. The virus wiped them out. I don’t know why I didn’t get sick. I had to watch every single one of my family members die in my arms. The life just leaving their eyes. It’s enough to kill myself, but don’t worry, I didn’t. Not when there is a whole world to explore, I should really leave right now!
(Of course, I will have to ignore the smell of rotting flesh accumulating from the dead bodies littering the streets. Seeing their face expressions of pain and suffering, it’s almost too much to bear…..too much…just too…much..)
saturday is the popular day of the week: it is the high school, football quarterback. Everyone loves saturday. it’s flexible. it will be however lazy or crazy you want it to be. saturday is loved.
A very relaxing day for anyone who has worked all week. It’s a day that anyone who doesn’t work that day that is anticipated
I used to do Club Lyon on Saturday nights. It was the best time I’d ever had online. Sometimes I miss it, but all good things must end someday. I have my memories.
It was saturday and she never went to sleep. She lied awake all night thinking of nothing. her head buzzing and never quite silencing.
Freedom.
How Else to Describe it?
Going to the Creek,
In the Small Little Nook Nobody Else Knows About,
Sketching Trees,
Daydreaming,
Writing,
Reading,
Singing,
A Day Free of School or Chores or Babysitting,
A Day to Be Myself and
Nothing More.
It was the cloudless sky that made me yearn for rain. Rain seemed to be the only thing that made sense these days. Love never really meant anything to me; just a rattling noise that bounced around in my head like a kid with a basketball. Tears started to spring from my eyes as I realized this was the Saturday that we first met. The Saturday that started everything.
It was Saturday again, the day of days, my day of freedom and release. I went out as always, found a target, and did my thing. It was a good day.
Saturdays are fun. It brings Happiness. There is No work. it’s the Weekend. No school. Can have friend time. Can take Long trips. Vacation. Long Island
is just another day. more time lost. more memories made.
It was a nice Saturday, fairly relaxing. I tugged at my braided hair as I paced back and forth, contemplating what to do with such a nice day. Within five minutes of that moment, no more contemplating was needed. A sudden crash arowsed my interest upstairs. I ran up the stairs only to be swept off my feet and tossed into a potato sack.
“A-Are you kidnapping me?!” I screamed through the thick, coarse fabric.
“I prefer the term “Suprise Adoption,” a deep, slow man’s voice responded.
Saturday! My head fills with the delights of lying in bed with the sun up. I forget that the bed is uncomfortable. Breakfast in bed. Yum! Only, it’s me who has to make it. Saturday paper in bed. On the the internet. Reality strikes when it’s least welcome. Sigh!
saturday. it happens once a week! when i was little, a week was a circle! Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. And then over and over again!
In the park. I think it was the fourth of July.
Saturday; a day that everyone believes is the beginning of the weekend. That is the day i dread. My name is Charlie and every Saturday i have to eat fish. Fish is the grossest thing i have ever eaten in my whole entire life.
saturn. old times they were worshiping stars. stars were gods to them. so they gave the name saturn to the day. it became saturday. a planet which was thought star-god.
I can’t wait for Saturday! MaeMae is coming and we’re sleeping over at Katy’s house…I haven’t seen MaeMae for over 9 months, and I’ve missed her so much…wow. I can’t wait! :D
saturdays are the best days, especially if it is funny, you can hang out with your friends at the river, saturdats makes me happy and in a very good mood, i love it when it is sunny.
cartoon, ice cream, sleeping in, afternoon walks. This is Saturday. It’s joy, relief, relaxation. its pure joy. It’s picnic and beaches, its everything you could want in a day. The problem is, it goes by far too fast.
Saturday has to me the best day of the week. I mean, honestly, what other day do you have to just sit and lounge? Enjoy some nice tea, eat a good scone, ahhh happiness in its simplest form
What is this?
Saturday, you are my favorite day of the week. A sense of rest, a sense of adventure are all within you. I feel as if I can do anything on a Saturday. The sun shines brighter and the storms are better. Saturday.
Saturday morning is a favorite day for me. We wake up every week and laze around in bed for hours. A late breakfast and walks in the park. No cell phones or lap tops, just me and my man. It’s a wonderful life.
I have no idea what I do on a Saturday. I mean, my day doesn’t exactly consist of much. Oversleep as usual, wake up, have breakfast/dinner, go upstairs, go on my computer, play video games, have my tea, get a shower, watch some TV, go back on my PC and go to bed. It’s not exactly the most active of lifestyles.
Saturday was always one of my favourite days, until becoming a student. Saturday was always the day to relax and recharge but as a student I do that 24/7 anyway so now the day seems entirely pointless.
Saturday.
Lonely nights spent on the computer.
Tumblr: All day and all night.
Music in and out the musical ear.
Stuffing fat face full of food and Diet Mtn. Dew.
H0LLA.
it was a saturday when the wicker chair broke. we were drinking coffee on the porch and my boyfriend peter sat down in it, and it just collapsed. it wasn’t because peter was heavy, it was just worn and aged and even if my little brother sat in it it would have broken. we could have warned him, but it was too late. peter was trying to stifle a laugh, while my mother tried to stifle a cry. “I’m sorry,” he said, regretful. “I didn’t know. I’ll buy you a new one-”
“But you can’t,” my mother said, more to her coffee than to him. “You can’t buy history and memories, so just leave it be and take the other seat.”
he took the other seat, and that was the last time we all had coffee together.
Saturday summer nights, with a bon fire and marshmellows. Mosquitoes flying and buzzing in your ears. What could possibly be better? Nothing. Where else would you want to be?