#SHADY: Waiting to Dawn🌞

What would be the color of happiness?

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Taken from @impatrickt on unsplash.com

Everything set,
The moonlight at its best,
The stars spread in it flicker…

Everything said,
The prayers in waiting,
The wishes in longing,
The soul in its craving for peace…

Every other day,
I write through the brightness of my heart,
I write through every broken piece of happiness left,
I write through the years of untrue peace…

What would be the color of happiness?
Yellow perhaps, like the waiting to dawn…

Thanks for reading!

If you, or anyone you know, would like to join us as: email us at girlonthebusza@gmail.com or send us a message on our social media!

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#STORYTIME: Looking at the Sky atop the Mountain☁️

Looking at the sky, here atop the mountain, is a different experience for most.

Taken from @raffalel on unsplash.com

Looking at the sky, here atop the mountain, is a different experience for most.

It feels different. Almost like an out-of-body experience.

I looked at the sky turn an array of colours. It went from the calm and sleep inducing colour of black, to navy blue. Which then turned into a purple and then to a pink.

The first evidence of light coming to wake you up.

I saw the sky turn from that comforting purple-pink, to its fiery reds and oranges. These colours shone so brightly that there was no point in sleeping anymore.

The little streaks of yellow that accompanied the fiery colours, extended to the ends of the sky. Reaching far and wide to spread more of the colours.

This soon turned into a light blue sky with little fluffs of white in it.

The clouds looked at peace, on their leisurely stroll with the light breeze, but there was a dark figure lurking behind them.

A figure, so dark and gloomy, began consuming the light and fluffy clouds, one by one, turning the sky dark and lifeless.

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The wind picked up and became icy. Blowing so harshly that the trees and plants uprooted themselves.

I ran to some boulders to try and take cover from the brewing storm, but to no avail. I was cold, wet and afraid.

The rain started to pick up and belt against the earth, causing the topsoil to break and wash away.

The rain: not liquid for long, and turned into solid ice that fell harder and faster.

BOOM!

What was that?

BOOM! FLASH

I looked left and right at what the noise and sudden light could possibly be.

BOOM! CRASH!

rain storming GIF
Taken from giphy.com

I tried covering my ears to muffle the sounds, but it was no use. The more I covered my ears, the louder the sounds became. The more I squeezed my eyes shut, the brighter the light. The more I curled in on myself to retain some heat, the colder the wind became.

I screamed everytime the cymbals of the sky crashed. I flinched everytime the lightning hit the ground close to me.

Yet, I couldn’t do anything but sit there and watch as the storm grew more intense.

I gave up on muffling out the sounds and blocking out the light and cold. I chose sleep over survival. I chose to run away instead of facing the storm.

A few hours passed and I woke up to birds chirping in the distance, opening my eyes to the grass next to me.

It was wet, with some droplets on the fine blades of grass, but it looked at peace and not as though it had just weathered a storm.

I closed my eyes and rolled onto my back. Squeezing my eyes shut so that the image of what was left of the storm could not hurt me.

I had a feeling that the storm subsided and that it was safe to open my eyes. Hesitant, I opened my eyes to see what words fail to describe.

Beautiful and colourful, that nothing could be compared to it.

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The sky had turned from a dark and terrifying Davy’s grey, to its fiery reds and oranges again.

Amazed at the image laid out in front of me, I started crying out of joy that the sun had decided to make an appearance.

I saw that beautiful fire turn into sweet and lulling purples and pinks. Which then turned into a navy blue and eventually into the sleep-inducing black.

Just seeing the sunset after the storm, was truly thrilling, but also comforting. I had truly come out of the storm.

I laid there and continued to stare at the sky littered with stars, admiring the beauty of the sky.

It truly is a great experience looking at the sky atop the mountain.

silhouette of mountain under cloudy blue sky photo taken during sunset
Taken from @jdiegoph on unsplash.com

Thanks for reading!

If you, or anyone you know, would like to join us as: email us at girlonthebusza@gmail.com or send us a message on our social media!

#RIME-TIME: AquaMarine🐟

A love poem for our 2nd #SHADY theme: Aquamarine🐟

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AquaMarine

I seek out your love…


Dear sweetness, You send sweet shivers that intoxicate my heart like the waves of Nile…

I seek to drown in the abyss of your affection, with no life guide or cautions…


Take me to your world, that which is another world far from this reality…



Wash me to the shores of your desires,


spread me to the winds of the open sky,

fill my crazy thirst with songs of your lips,


And together let’s paint our lives with the colors of the sky and open waters…



AquaMarine they call it, Let’s live like the colors of the ocean as it never changes

Thanks for reading!

If you, or anyone you know, would like to join us as: email us at girlonthebusza@gmail.com or send us a message on our social media!

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#STORYTIME: Confessions of a Teenage Body Shamer: Chapter 2

If mom knew Kasey was my partner, she’d probably have thrown a fit and rushed to my school the next day to complain and demand me a new partner. Which I guess wouldn’t have been that bad… but it’d sure have been embarrassing.

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Read Chapter 1 of ‘Confessions of a Teenage Body Shamer’ here.

When I got home after cheerleading practice the next day, I found my mom in the lounge working out. The furniture was moved aside to create an open space at the centre of the room. An old work out video played on the television and she effortlessly followed the instructor whilst looking over at me. 

“Hey, honey,” she greeted. I smiled politely and proceeded to make my way through the lounge towards my room. 

All I wanted to do was fall back onto my bed and stay there for the rest of the day, especially after the crucial practice Katie put us through. Mom, however, stopped me before I even reached the stairs. “Emma I think you should grab a yoga mat and join in,” I tried hard not to roll my eyes at her disapproving tone. “That cheerleading uniform seems a bit too tight.”

Instead of retorting, which I really wanted to do, I did as I was told and placed a yoga mat right next to her. I quickly got into the same position as her and just fell in with the work out.

“I heard from Katie’s mom that you guys got a project today, but you and Katie aren’t partners?” 

Mom’s laser-like eyes were focused on me and yet she never even wavered in the workout position she was in. I, on the other hand, could feel my arms and my legs wobbling.

“Yes, we couldn’t choose our own partners.”

“Well, then who’s your partner?”

“Just this new girl,” I lied. 

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If mom knew Kasey was my partner, she’d probably have thrown a fit and rushed to my school the next day to complain and demand me a new partner. Which I guess wouldn’t have been that bad… but it’d sure have been embarrassing.

Besides that, Katie thought that the project would be a great advantage to get some leverage over Kasey, I obviously couldn’t have agreed more but I was a bit anxious about how I was going to get said leverage.

“Oh, okay,” mom said and got up from the yoga mat to switch off the workout video. I stood up myself, trying hard to catch my breath before she noticed I was panting. She gave me a once over before walking towards the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in an hour.” 

When she finally left, I felt like I could breath again. My phone went off with a notification and I checked it to see a text from none other than Kasey, herself.

Image from medium.com

I sighed when I saw her name was changed from Kasey to Fatty K. Katie must have done it. I made my way to my room while checking the message.

If you’re free we should start with the project tomorrow. I could go to your house or you come to mine?

I closed my room door, fell onto my bed and replied.

Your house.

An hour later I was sitting at the dinner table with my mom, trying to force down the salad she had made. 

“Where’s dad?” I asked in order to make small talk but it was shut down almost immediately.

“Working late.”

The atmosphere was so awkward but I guess I should’ve been used to it by then. 

I envied my dad for being able to escape having dinner with us. I was mad at him for leaving me alone with my mom when he knew exactly how unbearing and controlling she could be.

I imagined him sitting at his desk in his office or being at a restaurant, just eating anything that he wanted without having anyone control what he ate because of the amount of calories in it. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” Mom’s stern voice knocked me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see her icy gaze on me. I quickly smiled and shoved a few pieces of lettuce into my mouth. 

That night, when I went to bed, I prayed that the rest of the school year went by quickly so that I could just get away from all of it…

[To be continued…]

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Thanks for reading! GirlOnTheBus is powered by a strong, sassy group of women with a love for writing and sharing stories. If you know of someone in your community doing amazing things for themselves or others, let us know! You can tag us in posts on social media with #girlonthebusblog or send us an email under the GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY tab. So easy! We look forward to hearing about the talented and simply stellar individuals across the globe.

The 2020 Bus Ride: Our Year in Review 🚌

A review of everything we’ve done together on the bus this year.

2020 has been a wild (unexpectedly long) bus ride for all of us: we’ve hit lots of bumps on the road, but we’ve managed to have a little fun regardless.

This year we tried out, and added, a few new things: new, talented writers; new SPOOPY posts for October; posting once a week; lots and lots of poetry and short stories. It’s (semi-) safe to say that 2020 was our fullest bus ride yet and we’re super thankful for that.

To prepare for 2021, and the ideas we’ve got stacked up, here’s a review of everything we’ve done together on the bus this year.

P.S. Authors who do not have their own profiles on GOTB have Italicised names.

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We looked at lots of things we liked

Continue reading “The 2020 Bus Ride: Our Year in Review 🚌”

#STORYTIME: Confessions of a Teenage Body Shamer: Chapter 1

I can think of an overall of three people that had left my school, Preston High, all due to bullying; mainly body shaming. Funny thing is, I was involved in all of those situations.

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Do you believe in fate, or destiny? Or do you believe that every decision you make in your life determines your future?

I guess I’m not really sure what I believe in. For most of my life I’ve been told what to do or what to believe in.

I can think of an overall of three people that had left my school, Preston High, because of bullying.

Funny thing is, I was involved in all of those situations.

12,728 High School Building Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty-Free ...
Photo taken from fstop123 on istockphoto.com

In ninth grade, we had what was most probably the hottest day at school yet, and Patty Leviton came to school in a red and black striped tank top and shorts. My friends found it disgusting.

They said that she had flabs under her arms that shouldn’t be shown to anyone at anytime. They said that it should be illegal for people “like her” to even wear shorts. They said that she was too “overweight” to be taken seriously in that get-up.

I laughed along with them, agreeing to everything they said – as always.

That day in the cafeteria, my best friend, Katie, publicly humiliated Patty in front of everyone. There was this moment of silence where Katie looked over at me expectantly, and then everyone looked at me.

I had so many choices to choose from…

I could’ve stood up for Patty in that moment, but then I’d risk losing my friends. So, I made the easiest choice; I stood up and poured my entire soda over Patty’s head.

Photo from commons.wikimedia.org

The same kind of thing happened to Jack Melton and Sarah Umen.

We made fun of Jack for being the skinniest kid in our school. We bullied him on a daily basis: calling him all kinds of names, taking pictures of him and making him the joke of the school website. Laughing at him as he walked past us.

It took Jack a total of four weeks before he left Preston – the quickest yet.

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Sarah lasted a lot longer at the school, although I’m pretty sure she lost her dignity before that. We bullied her for being overweight, for so long.

Katie and I once caught her in the bathroom after lunch, retching so hard in one of the bathroom stalls, I was sure her intestines would’ve come out if she tried any harder.

Katie, who was trying so hard not to laugh, motioned for me to take my phone out and record her. Again, I could’ve said no, but instead I put on a smug smile and did exactly as she said.

The video footage got about 400 views on the first night it was uploaded onto our website and I was praised by my friends for the following few weeks.

Taken from Robert Brookes and Associates article on pinterest.com

Even after all the remorse and guilt I felt for doing all those things, I never once stood up for myself and I never once let people know how I felt about it. Even though it made me seem heartless to most people. Until Kasey Hopman.

At the start of eleventh grade, she was our schools new resident “fat girl”. Yet, everytime we brought her down or bullied her or commented on her weight, she’d smile and walk away with her head held high.

To say I hated her, would be an understatement because I loathed her. She thought she could just walk away like she owned the place.

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One day, in biology, we got a project that we had to do with a partner. I looked at Katie and smiled. But my smile immediately dropped when our teacher said that she’d be choosing the partners.

Imagine my astonishment when she partnered me up with no other than Kasey Hopman.

“Hi, Emma,” Kasey said with a smile as she plopped down in the seat next to me. I could feel the steam leaving my ears.

Everything got worse when Ms Perrish announced that we would be partners for the rest of the year.

Kasey turned to me, this time with a smug look on her face, “This should be fun.”

I banged my head against the desk because I already knew it was going to be a long year…

To be continued…

Thanks for reading! GirlOnTheBus is powered by a strong, sassy group of women with a love for writing and sharing stories. If you know of someone in your community doing amazing things for themselves or others, let us know! You can tag us in posts on social media with #girlonthebusblog or send us an email under the GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY tab. So easy! We look forward to hearing about the talented and simply stellar individuals across the globe.

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#COLLAB: Practical Ways to Limit Screen Time for Young Children

Many of us can’t imagine a life involving limiting screen time for our kids. However, there are certain benefits in limiting screen time for the development of the child for their emotional and physical well-being. These are a few things that can motivate and guide you to limit screen time for your child.

GIF from dribbble.com/mraza

Written by Fatima Siddiqa Mohamedali

Many of us can’t imagine a life involving limiting screen time for our kids. However, there are certain benefits in limiting screen time for the development of the child for their emotional and physical well-being.

Below are a few things that can motivate and guide you to limit screen time for your child.

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Having the correct mindset is key.

Just like the passing of clouds in the sky, the length of time your kids are young is limited and will pass by fast. As a result, you want to think about ways to create fond bonding memories for your child that they will remember for the rest of their lives.

Think about your most cherished memories from your childhood and whether they all involved staring at a screen.

person holding white and gray stone
Photo from unsplash.com/@sigmund

Imagine the concept of creating your own television show for your child.

While cooking, let them watch you (as it’s much better and more relevant than having them watch a television show) plus there are ways for making it interactive and having them help you as well.

Another idea is creating a cleaning and home organizing show for your child (with the option of making it interactive for your child as well). There is so much learning that can take place in engaging your child in your day-to-day tasks.

child eating desert
Photo from unsplash.com/@kylenieber

Planning is sometimes helpful when wanting to limit screen time for your child.

If there is a workshop/online program catered to your child, see if there is a way you can watch a recording of it on your own. As well, try to extract the core messages in it and adopt a similar learning experience for your child without having your child look at a screen.

Or watch the actual program that you extracted the information from. For example, you can use puppets to illustrate key concepts to a child in a fun way or use a storyboard as well.

red and grey toy
Photo from unsplash.com/@markusspiske

Hopefully by the end of this article you have found some inspiration to come up with at least one way to limit screen time for your child…

Thanks for reading! GirlOnTheBus is powered by a strong, sassy group of women with a love for writing and sharing stories. If you know of someone in your community doing amazing things for themselves or others, let us know! You can tag us in posts on social media with #girlonthebusblog or send us an email under the GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY tab. So easy! We look forward to hearing about the talented and simply stellar individuals across the globe.

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#HORROR-SHORROR: The Killings of Everdale : Chapter 1

We drove inside once the gates opened and carried on driving on a long-winded road. Passing by the millions of Lawson Cypress trees, shrubs trimmed to perfection and a pool the size of a football field, tennis courts that covered the land, we finally reached the first row of houses. We reached house number 13, the place we could finally call home after living with my in-laws for 7 dreadful years.

black metal fence
Taken from Unsplash.com/@littlepineco

We finally arrived at the gate that would open up to a breath-taking community of rich people: Everdale.

The gate was probably made of pure gold and had all sorts of adornments on it. Ranging from angel wings to diamond encrusted spikes on the top.

Our old red and black 1966 Mustang didn’t fit in with this neighbourhood of Rolls-Royces, Mercedes Benzes and other fancy car brands.

Yet, we drove inside once the gates opened and carried on driving on a long-winded road. Passing by the millions of Lawson Cypress trees, shrubs trimmed to perfection and a pool the size of a football field, tennis courts that covered the land, we finally reached the first row of houses.

green leafed plant
Taken from Unsplash.com/ @ivybarn

The houses were all identical – red face brick walls, dark grey roofs, white windows and doors, and yet the only thing that made them different, were the numbers on the houses starting from ‘1’.

We drove slowly down the street, past the identical houses and the few people that we saw outside, either on their porches or tending to their front gardens.

We reached house number 13, the place we could finally call home after living with my in-laws for 7 dreadful years.

We stepped out of our car and looked at the house. It looked like the other houses. Red face brick walls, dark grey roof, etc.

The movers truck stopped behind us and started unloading all of our belongings.

We unlocked the house and stepped inside.

Image taken from a Quora user: https://www.quora.com/How-do-Americans-feel-about-their-houses-being-so-identical-to-one-another

“Oh my gosh, Eileen. This place is better the second time in seeing it”, I said as I stepped closer to my wife.

“I’m sure it will look better with some furniture and our personal touch.”

After half an hour, the movers were done unloading the furniture and putting them where we wanted them to be.

The place looked amazing… even better with all of our stuff in it. Finally… our place.

Knock knock.

We turned to the door and I opened it, seeing a young couple standing with cookies in their hands.

“Hello neighbour!” chirped the woman.

“It’s nice to see that we are not the only young-ish couple here”, giggled the woman again.

“Oh how rude of us to not introduce ourselves. I’m Bruce and this is my wife Mary. We live across the road at number 12”, said the man with a friendly smile.

Houses with the number 13 sell for less in many parts of the ...
Taken from thejournal.ie

“Ah, yes, hey there. We didn’t expect to get visitors so soon”, I said jokingly.

“I’m Andrew and this is my wife Eileen. We’re from Pine Springs and we decided that it was time to finally move out of Eileen’s parents’ house.”

“Well it was nice meeting you both. We’d love to catch up with you guys some other time, right? I’m sure you guys need to get settled in first”, said Mary.

“Maybe we can talk tomorrow, since it’s the weekend and you guys can just come over around noon-ish?”

“Ummmm we’re bu-“

“Yes sure! We’ll see you guys tomorrow at your place and we’ll bring some goodies with”, Eileen said excitedly.

“Alright then! See you tomorrow neighbours!” Bruce and Mary said as they walked to their house.

Eileen returned inside, but I decided to stay standing there on the front porch, gazing at the pinkish sky and sunset.

“I’m sure we’ll like this place and the people that live here as well”

grass field
Taken from Unsplash.com/@directedbyshawn

I woke up to my wife shaking me and shouting my name.

“Andrew!”

“Wha-what’s wrong? Why did you wake me?”

I looked past her to the window and saw the flashing of red and blue lights outside.

“Honey? Why are the police here? Don’t they know it’s four in the morning?”

I looked at my wife and she seemed eager to see what was happening outside.

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I got out of our bed and went to the window. I saw a crowd placed outside of Bruce and Mary’s place.

I wonder what happened?

I stepped away from the window and grabbed my jacket hanging behind the door. My wife, grabbing her gown and phone, followed after me out the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door.

We made sure to lock the door behind us and walked across the street.

Taken from Pinterest.com/http://grandrapidsusedcars.pfeiffer84th

As we got closer to the house, we heard some people in the crowd crying. Some whispers of “they were too young to leave”, and others asking why someone would do that.

As we neared the front of the crowd, we saw some of the people that were at the pool and tennis courts we drove past, as well as the people that were on their porches.

We wondered why they were there until we looked at the scene in front of us: Bruce’s body slumped against the door with a knife wedged into his chest, and Mary’s body strewn across the walkway of their garden, faced down with huge slashes on her back.

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There was something carved onto Bruce’s forehead. It was bloody but one could make out the words written on it.

Annoying.

“Oh lord” my wife said once she saw the scene in front of her.

She hugged me tighter and hid her crying face into my chest. I stroked her back and whispered comforting words.

I couldn’t look away from the scene in front of me.

Why did this happen? I was supposed to speak to them later that day over coffee and get to know them. Why? Why did someone do this to the friendlie-

Annoying.

I looked around at who could’ve said that.

Annoying.

There. I heard it again. Who said that? Why are they saying that?

They were so annoyingly nice.

I stopped looking for the voice, only to realise it was my own. Why was I saying that?

It’s good that they’re gone. We don’t have to deal with any annoying people anymore. It’s time you looked at the dried blood on your hands now, Andrew. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…

What? Dried blood? I looked at my hands that were around my wife only to notice the stickiness of them. I brought the one hand up and sniffed it.

Dried blood.

[To be continued]

Thanks for reading! GirlOnTheBus is powered by a strong, sassy group of women with a love for writing and sharing stories. If you know of someone in your community doing amazing things for themselves or others, let us know! You can tag us in posts on social media with #girlonthebusblog or send us an email under the GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY tab. So easy! We look forward to hearing about the talented and simply stellar individuals across the globe.

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