Our Last Set for the Year is Here!

Be sure to read all the new pieces for May, and comment on at least THREE of them.  (follow the guidelines below, if you've forgotten.  Comments are due on the blog AND in class (hard copy) by May 13.

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this month.  Everyone is required to comment on at least Three different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by the due date.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!

"The corrupt king" by Margaret M

He was falling his life flashing across his eyes as he was pushed from behind. He turned, the kind face of his friend distorted with malice.

He fell, memories of his life appearing to him.

He remembers as a child the only person he could trust was his friend, his dear dear friend. Everyone else was after his life for his father was the cruel ruler and he his only heir. The continuous betrayals he faced changed him, twisting him into his father.

He trusted no one.

Especially not his cruel father whom he hated. He recalled the poison he slipped into his father’s wine too easily and how quickly he was crowned to the depressed citizens tired of the previous king.

However,

He proved to be much much worse. Raising the taxes to an unlivable level, killing any suspected of treason with or with out proof, waging war, changing the laws for worse, and many more unspeakable acts.

He fell recalling the more recent memories of his, tears trailing behind him as he continued from the great height. He thought he could trust his friend after all he had been through, he should have noticed the unease his friend gave after killing off his younger sister who argued with him due to his treatment of their people.

He was betrayed by the last person he trusted in the world, but he could not be upset. Nor hold any grudge.

Instead he smiled reaching his hand to the sky as he made impact with the ground his crown flying off his head out reached arm falling to the side.

He reached towards the sky again looking at the tower his friend stood outside opening is mouth to address the crowed.

‘Thank you’ he whispered as his world fell dark and he met his peace at last.

“ THE CORRUPT KING IS DEAD REJOICE”

"That One Summer Night" by Merosa U

The summer night of July fourth I experienced one of the most embarrassing yet memorable nights of my life. My family hosted our family and friends on the fun Independence holiday. I had expected all of those who attended to come except for one. This happened to be our close family friend’s nephew T, who I had a huge crush on at the time. Although I was not prepared to see him I was definitely pleasantly surprised. I spent almost the entire gathering trying to find ways to “get him to myself” (just to talk and get to know him of course).

            I had several minor encounters with him that day, except I never got my chance to really talk to him. Night time soon creeped up on me and the day was slowly coming to an end. Most of our guest remained and everyone but the adults decided to play fugitive. The game of fugitive is great for large groups such as the one we had that night. When playing the game the players must choose some people depending on the amount, to be the “cops”, and the remaining players to be the “fugitives”. Then the group chooses a destination for the fugitives to attempt to get to without getting caught by the cops, the first fugitives to get there win. Due to the amount of people in our group we split up in pairs. My first thought was to make sure I was paired with T and I thankfully was able to make that happen.

            The game began and everyone dispersed, the destination we chose was a field on the local high school behind my neighborhood. T and I set off to our destination and I pretty much mentally lost the entire goal of the game. I honestly couldn’t have cared less if we won or not I was just glad I finally got to talk to him. While he was actually trying to win the game, I on the other hand was distracted by his presence and risked our chance of getting caught multiple times. We finally made it to the field safely and won the game. On our way back I finally got to talk to him with no distractions. The conversation was everything I hoped for and more. We reached the exit of the field which required us to climb over a fence. He hopped over first, effortlessly and offered to help me down. Assuming I was more athletic I declined his offer and decided to jump off myself. Which was probably the worst mistake I could have made, I completely failed! My shorts got caught on the top of the fence and ripped, not just a little tear, oh did I wish it was just a tear. The shorts completely ripped in half, so it pretty much became a skirt at that point. On top of that my cell phone flew and scattered on the ground. After my horrific fall T immediately came to my assistance completely unware of my split shorts and tried to help me up. Once I noticed he was totally unaware of my shorts I quickly turned his attention to my scattered cell phone and yelled at him to grab that instead. Unfortunately my yell came off slightly rude which was definitely unintentional. He put my phone back together and we made our way back to my house. I struggled to hold my shorts together, keep up with our conversation, and make sure he was slightly ahead of me so he wouldn’t see my embarrassing shorts. I felt like it was the longest walk of my entire life. I couldn’t enjoy the conversation and was too embarrassed to admit what had happened. We finally made it home and without a word I took off running into my house. I changed quickly but it was too late T left and I didn’t get to finish our conversation or say goodbye.

A couple of days later I saw him again and he asked me why I rushed in without saying good bye that night. He thought I was irritated with him and he couldn’t have been more wrong. I explained to him what happened including my feeling of total embarrassment. To my surprise, he explained that he actually found my incident really funny but cute and that I should have just told him. T and I are just friends now and reminisce on that night all the time. I learned that I’m horrible at communicating with boys and just to be honest in circumstances like this. Since then I avoid the game of fugitive as often as I can and definitely do not pair with anyone I’m attracted to.

"Untitled" by Kayla F

“Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.” Albert Schweitzer the AP English teacher write on the board. The students walk in and take their seats and the late bell rings.

Teacher: Good afternoon. I need you guys to take out a piece of paper and a pen. Then read the following quote on the board and tell me what you think of this quote and what does it mean to you. When you are down turn your paper in the bin.

The students anxiously start writing expect for one student who looks slightly scared a numb feeling comes over her she does as her teacher says and begins to think,

What does it mean to be successful? What does it mean to be happy?  Does success only come from happiness or success has nothing to do with happiness? Are you only happy when you are successful or is happiness not affected by success? Are these just abstract ideas that we set our goals on just to make ourselves feel good or content with our actions? Do our actions mean anything? If we were successful in life would we be happy? If we were happy would we be successful? Does getting everything you ever wanted mean that you are happy? Does this mean that you are successful? Will I ever be completely happy? Will I ever be successful?  If I am not happy will I not be successful? What if I just want to be successful? What if I just want to be happy? I got it.

The student begins to write,

One day I want all my dreams to come true. I know that sounds like fairytale or something straight from a Disney movie but, I mean it.  In every Disney movie there is struggle in the beginning. The main character starts to doubt themselves however, somewhere deep down inside they find the will to keep going. They find a will so that they can be happy. We all are a main character in a Disney movie. We work hard and dedicated ourselves in order to reach the goal we have set forth. We make those goals because they will make us happy once they are achieved.  We all have to do what makes us happy in order to reach your goals and become successful in life.  You can only be successful once you are happy. If you had all the money in the world you would be considered by many successful but if you are not happy there is a void within your life. The only way to fill that emptiness is to find happiness in your life then and only then will you be successful.

The student turns in her paper. She leaves the class with the widest and most energetic smile on her face. She finally makes a decision about which college she wants to attend. She rejected Harvard and went to San Diego State because she knew that is where she would the happiest.

"Talk" by Elisabeth D

Where do I begin?

Man, I don’t even know.

Let’s see how this goes,

Sit back and enjoy the show.

Now this poem isn’t your typical stuff,

I don’t follow the definition of a sonnet and such,

I could bore you about the future and all that mush,

But believe me I don’t want to leave you crushed.

So what should I talk about?

School, work, family, and all that?

Well, school and work are exhausting without a doubt,

And my family’s… well they’re my family, let’s just leave it at that.

We could talk about the world,

And all that’s going on…

But talking about all that will leave your brain swirled,

And before you know it you’ll be gone.

Maybe talking about graduation might do.

But who really wants to “get emotional” right now?

Besides,

We have so much time too.

I’m pretty sure by this point you’re probably confused,

Wondering what point I’m exactly trying to make.

At the start of this poem I didn’t know either, I just kinda cruised.

I guess what I’m trying to say is… Talk.

I know, I know, what does she mean by talk?

She came up with every excuse in the book not to talk.

She didn’t even know what to talk about.

That’s just it, there’s so much to say without a doubt.

If I had to talk about any of these topics,

Believe me we’d be here forever.

But nobody has “time for that”,

So let me get it together.

Talking, no matter how good or annoying, is a gift,

Sounds cliché? Yeah, I know.

But come on be honest, sometimes you let it drift.

There is so much to talk about,

It’s pretty ridiculous.

So I find it very ironic when someone asks, “What do you want to talk about?”

And we all suddenly become clueless.

  

"My Families Attitude!" by Aiseosa I

            Let me give you some background of my family’s history of attitude. My family is from West Africa, more specifically Edo State, Benin City, Nigeria. I have the pleasure of being blood tied with the Ibude, Edekere, Egbon and Ogiamien families. My heritage is so full of surprises and wonderful people. I learn new things every day. To Benin City, my family is known for speaking their mind. They don’t mind fighting anyone who disrespects their own. I just love that. My Edekere and Ogiamien side of the family are considered royalty in their village. Both of my Step-Grandfathers are chiefs in their tribes. My grandmother and my step-grandmothers call me Eyoguea (E-yo-gay) which means mother of future kings. However, only males could be chiefs of the village so I am considered “The Chief’s daughter” or princess of the tribe. Which I am upset about because I am a queen! I have a queen since the day I was born but, they don’t see to understand that. Anyhow,  seeing as though my older brother is the first in line, it’s most likely he won’t be chief because one, he doesn’t like the responsibility and two because he’s not even in Nigeria and three because can’t deal with the mindset of everybody  all at once!   On my mother’s side she has 21 brothers and sisters. I know right! It freaked me out when she told me. But she went on to explain how my grandfather had 5 wives. At that time I was too young to understand what polygamy meant. I have yet to meet all of them! That’s probably why everyone in my family has an attitude because they have too many people in one household to deal with.

The woman that really peaks my interest in my family is my albino step- grandmother. The woman is pure white! Like, she’s as white as snow. She glows in the dark, that’s how white her skin is. Yet, she has the biggest mouth I’ve ever seen. The woman tries to fight every one that looks at her for more than three seconds! She once came to America to visit us. We took her to the African market in LA to get vegetables and egusi soup. Because she was wearing our native clothing and she was as white as she is, everyone was staring at her. Knowing her she started to yell at people with the little English that she knew.  “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!?! HAVE YOU PEOPLE NEVER SEE WHITE?  AM WHITE. SO? NEVER YOU SEE ALBINO ‘FORE?  I have never been so entertained and so embarrassed at the same time. I honestly don’t know where I would be without her. She takes care of my family. She is always praying for protection over us because she believes that Americans are coming after the African people….

There are so many more people to talk about but I would need a book the size of Britain’s Encyclopedia to finish.

My own attitude has gotten in a lot of trouble but there is never one time I didn’t have a reason for it. It’s just the way I am and I am proud of who I am and where I come from. Though these people can hit nerves I never thought was possible to reach mentally, I have learned to be strong for myself, learn to deal with my mistakes and fight for what I want. They have a huge part of making me who I am today. And I love me so…..

"This Is Not Goodbye" by Kat V

Let me tell you the story of the girl and how she quickly fell into the grips of love.
She never understood love and its power over someone.
She stood to the side unamused with the idea of love for she believes the emotion is artificial and null.
She had lovers but never enough to love them.
Until one day it changed when she met the boy.
The boy whom she thought would/ could change her heart.
Her non beating heart. Heartless creature with no love to profess.
It all started on the weekend where the girl was traumatized in events that will forever be in her mind and she was left in her weakness.
The boy comforted her, caring for her as she wept on his shoulder while he whispered to her that everything will be alright. Making her feel like she wasn't alone in her battle anymore. He had told her that he finished the song she had asked him to learn months ago because of everything that happened and that warmed her cold heart.
Then before she knew it or even before he knew it... Their lips touched ever so lightly against each other. Unsure yet soft.
They had kissed.
To the girl it felt as if there was more there than just friendship, but she couldn't think the same for boy. She just knew that it was not like anything she has ever felt before.
They both knew that whatever was to happen between them... It would nearly be impossible... But to the girl impossible was the best part.
Now she feels she has to push away her feelings and pretend that they never existed in order to protect herself.
She has always had boundaries but now the boy has penetrated them and has entered her weakest place, her heart.
Every time he looks at her now, all she can focus on are his big brown eyes.
If she focuses on anything else about him she will be tempted to kiss him or to even utter the powerful words.
He believes himself to be nothing, but to her she believes everyone is something. Especially him, it's not everyday someone can enter her heart.
Now she's afraid...
What if he leaves?
He's already with someone so why should it matter?
It doesn't matter how much he cares because it will never change.
Even if he promised he will never chase after the other girl again he will still do it. She's his priority and she always will be.
Doesn't matter their moments or their feelings.
It will never change.
The girl wishes it would change for she feels her heart only hurting even more as each day passes, but she puts on a smile. Smile indicates strength while a frown indicates weakness.
She will not be viewed as weak.
She suffers in silence and always will.
But she can't help her heart...
She's afraid that her heart has finally learned a new emotion... An emotion no one else has ever ignited in her...
That's what she fears most... How strong her feelings are for him.
She figures that in a few weeks it is probably that their paths will not cross anymore.
She is off on her journey and soon he will be off on his.
However deep in her heart... She hopes... No... She knows that this is not good bye.

"The Long Wait" by Angel G

Wife’s perspective;

It was a normal day, I woke up & I woke him up. I made him breakfast, just like I did for the past 15 years. The only difference of this morning was he was in a rush. He had an important meeting that could apparently "make our lives better if it goes well". Once he left, I woke our 2 kids up got them and myself ready. I took them to their bus and left for work. It was a great day at work! I got a promotion! I couldn't wait to get home and tell the kids! We could finally move out of our apartment! As soon as work ended I got a call. The caller ID said "George”, and of course I was happy when I answered because I had great news to tell him! Instead it was the voice of a panicked teenage kid. He explained that my husband had been in a car crash and the teenager, who's named Kevin, witnessed and came right away to help. Kevin said he had already called 911 and help is on the way. Kevin explained what happened in detail to me and he said that he used Georges phone to contact me. I automatically went into shock mode. I yelled at the kid and said "STOP MESSING WITH ME KID. WHO ARE YOU!? GIVE MY HUSBAND BACK HIS PHONE". God bless this kid for being so calm and patient with me because he stayed on the line and said "ma'am I promise you this is not a joke. Your husband in unconscious and the ambulance is on their way”. Kevin told me where he was and he stayed on the line until I got there.  When I got there it was a huge scene. All I saw was the ambulance people take him away. I kept saying I was his wife but they still didn't let me get in the ambulance car. I quickly got into my car and Kevin followed and forced me to take him. Luckily he was 18 so it wasn't a kidnap. Anyways, we followed and as soon as we got there they said "ma'am your husband is in a comma”. I said "what? No? Let me see him! I cried and cried and cried for a long time. But I never lost hope I always knew one day, just one day, he’s going to wake up. I prayed every morning and every night. 10 years later he woke up.

Husband’s perspective;

There was a bright light as soon I opened my eyes. I noticed I was in an empty hospital room. A lady who appeared to work at the hospital passed by the room and seemed really shocked to find me there. She immediately ran and came back with a doctor and a lady and a man. No one said a word all they did was stare at me as if I was crazy.in a calm voice the lady said she was my wife, I told her she was crazy then she cried. The doctor said I had been in a coma for 10 years due to a car crash. The doctor said I would forget most of my memories. The lady asked if they can take me home. Thank goodness the doctor said no! I DID NOT want to go to a crazy lady’s house and have to live there. Instead they called my Mom and Dad and I was very happy because I finally saw 2 people whom I know and feel safe with. My parents said I was married to the "crazy lady" and that her and I have 2 kids together, The doctor said I would have to go back home with my parents until I personally feel safe enough to go back with my "wife". We arrived at my parents’ house but none of my stuff was there. But of course it wasn’t going to be there it was going to be at my "wife’s" house. So I asked my parents to drive me to wherever my "wife" lived to pick up my belongings. Crazy thing is that I remembered EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING as soon as my beautiful kids came outside with my beautiful wife. How could I EVER forget my family? Each day I pray and thank god for keeping me alive.

"Skateboarding" by Oscar R

     The thing that always gets your mind off of things. It will always be there for you when your friends aren’t there for you. Skateboarding has many things to come. There is so many things to do so many things to try but at the end it is all about taking risks. There are always those times where you are too scared to try something but no one realizes that there is a big prize at the end and it is a great reward of satisfaction. If you fall just get back up and keep trying at everything that you want to accomplish. Skateboarding has got me off of everything from the worst to the best. Just let the breeze take you down the hill and have a great ride. There will always be those times where you will be going fast and you will get a lot of adrenaline, it’s the best feeling in the world. Skateboarding is more than just a piece of wood and wheels, it is a form of art in my perspective.  Many people might mistaken all the people who skate because they are known to be a bad influence. They are wrong because when u skateboard u make many friends and conversations with them. Skating is an art to me because it takes a lot of effort and meaning. For example if you are trying to do a specific trick you have to really concentrate and position your body and your feet on the board correctly or a numerous of things can go wrong but also a numerous of things can go good for u. Skateboarding is all about trying new things and taking a lot of risks. On the other side it can be a dangerous sport if u make it one. The way you can make it dangerous is by doing the extreme. For example jumping big sets of stairs. It takes a lot of effort because you have to really think about what you are going to do before you do it. It is also good for your health because you are doing exercise while you are pushing and jumping. There are many tricks and techniques that you can learn and master. Skateboarding is not just a hobby it’s a sport to me because it has a big impact in my life and most of my friends lives. If I didn’t have skateboarding I don’t know what I would be doing right now. Skateboarding has got me out of many bad things. Everyone should have a chance to at least try skateboarding so they can feel the adrenaline and the breeze that hits their face when they are going down a hill. Skateboarding has done a lot for me and I want it to do a lot of everyone that trys it and that does it for a hobby or a sport. Skateboarding is almost like life to me. I hope all of you that are reading this will have a chance to try it and enjoy it thanks.

“My Worst Dream” by Luis T

     It was like any other normal day. It was my normal routine, wake up go to school, come back and sleep. There was this one day that was not like any other day. It was on a Tuesday, I had woken up, or at least I thought I was awake, any way I was getting dressed for school when I noticed no one was home. It was just me and an abandon home, not even my dog was here. So I kind of panicked but then I said to myself, maybe they went on a walk without me. But that’s when I realized that it was only 4:30 in the morning and knowing that my family doesn’t wake up early got me very frightened. When it struck seven o’clock I decided to walk to school and on my way to school I decided to go to the gas station and the scariest thing was that the gas station was open but no one was in there. It made me wonder where everyone went. There was not one single soul in the city; it was like a ghost town. So I prayed and thought to myself was I the only one in the whole world to experience this, was god punishing me for my sins, and that’s when I woke up. It was a dream, my worst dream. I never knew I would be thrill to go to school and see my friends. That’s when I knew that being alone is one of my worst dreams.

"The story of Aubree" by Izabel L

One after noon Aubree was with her cousins in LA just enjoying life. Aubree had a family of 5. A mom, dad and older sister and little brother. Every one was close to one another. Her dad was a cop in Pomona and her mom worked as a dentist. Aubree’s relationship with her dad was great. Whenever they were together she would always be smiling. He would make her bad days a lot better with his big smile and hugs.  So later on in the day Aubree and her family left LA to come home. Her dad Bert was at S.W.A.T training and was going to a friend’s party.  Aubree and her family were supposed to go but they wanted to say with their cousins. As they got home aubree realized her dad wasn’t home yet. So it got later and later and everyone fell asleep knowing that their dad wasn’t home yet.  Around 12:12 midnight Aubree received a call from her Aunt that her husband was going to pick up her and her siblings to go to the hospital. In that moment Aubrey was terrified realized that her dad was involved. As they rush to the hospital Aubree sees all of her dads friends/ co-workers. Aubree runs up to the ICU section and sees her grandma. Her grandma told her that her dad was seriously injured and that he was in a car crash. Time went on and more family members came to comfort her. Aubree was in the hospital with her dad for 3 days. He wasn’t getting anybetter. Then the doctors pulled the family into a room and pronounced that Her dad was brain dead and that he wasn’t going to make it. On July 15 the last day of him being of life support. Aubree was so devastated about this and everything that was going on. They pronounced her dad dead on July 14 at 6:45pm. As months passed Aubree got better and realized that he’ll always be with her.

April Writers Are No Joke!!

Seriously, there's some great writing this month!  Check out the pieces below.

Be sure to read all the new pieces for April, and comment on at least FOUR of them.  (follow the guidelines below, if you've forgotten.  Comments are due on the blog AND in class (hard copy) by April 27.

Remember:
All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this month.  Everyone is required to comment on at least four different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by the due date.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!

"The Locket" by Miranda S.

A young girl held a golden locket in her hands. She had found it among the scattered leaves on the forest floor, covered with shadows from the immense trees above. The surface of the locket was intricately detailed and seemed to reflect light, despite the darkness. Inside was a faded black and white photo of a lady wearing a simple Victorian dress, her long hair falling over her shoulders, and smiling sweetly. She was beautiful.

     The young girl closed the locket and slipped it over her neck. It was too beautiful to leave behind. Walking home, she crunched her way through the dead leaves and hummed quietly to herself. From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement among the shadows. 

            “Well, hello there,” a voice said behind her. She whipped around to see a beautiful lady calmly staring at her.

            She could only stare at the lady for a moment, shocked by her sudden presence. It immediately dawned on her that this was the lady from the photo. She looked exactly the same, as if the photo was taken only a few minutes ago.

            “Oh, there's no need to be frightened, dear.” The lady smiled politely, taking a few steps forward.

           “Wh-Who are you?” The girl managed to stammer.

            "Well, that's really no concern of yours. What should be is that locket you are wearing around your neck." She paused, looking at it carefully. "You see, that is no ordinary object you wear. That locket possess power, strong enough to have brought me back.” Her grin widened as she smiled broadly. "You, my dear, have awakened the curse."

      The girl backed away slowly, terrified of the clearly insane woman. She glanced down at the locket, now radiating light.

       "My dear, you are the cure to my wretched condition. After all these years of suffering in isolation, I have waited. And now... Now I can be free at last."

            The girl, fearful, began to lift the locket over her head, prepared to run.

            “No!” The lady commanded, her smile gone and voice panicked. “You must let me remove it for you. That is how it must be done.” She smiled politely once again.

            In an instant the young girl was running away as quickly as her legs would let her. But a moment later the lady appeared before her, blocking her way. The look on her face clearly conveyed her anger.

            “I suppose I will have to do this the difficult way then, and force you to it” she hissed.

            The lady lunged toward the girl, her eyes now filled with a threatening black. “Finally, finally... A perfect host,” she murmured to herself. She feverishly gripped the girls hands tightly in her own and closed her eyes. Leaves began to swirl wildly as a tornado formed around them. “Yes!” the lady screeched, the girl nearly unconscious now. “Yes!” And both bodies went limp.

            A few minutes later the girl awakened, her eyes a pure black, and laughed.

"Becoming an 'Adult'” By Sophia B

     If anyone else has had their parent(s) or other adult tell them, “You are eighteen now, you should be acting more like an adult and being more responsible,” then you understand the difficulty and frustration that comes along with turning the joyful age of eighteen. Eighteen is the age where we can buy lottery tickets, legally drive friends, vote, attend jury duty, and be tried as an adult in court. It is also the age where we are expected to make impactful life decisions that can either aid or hinder our future goals. For example, making the decision of what college to attend or to even attend college at all, and choosing what we want to do for the rest of our lives. To our society, the age of eighteen is perceived as a pleasant and memorable time in one’s life in which one will begin a “new chapter” and begin to figure things out. According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, an adult is someone who is fully grown, developed, mature and sensible; meaning that they cannot be childish or show any child-like behavior. Then there are parents and other adults, who believe that at the very first second of our eighteenth birthday we are supposed to magically go through this great transformation into adulthood where we are suddenly able to handle deciding what is an economically advantageous decision to make when choosing what college to attend or what kind of bank account we want. Based on the fact that I do not meet any of the expectations of an adult that our society, sources like Merriam-Webster dictionary, or adults including my parents expect from me as an eighteen year old, I am not an adult.  I may be considered a legal “adult,” but I am in no way ready to act or take on the responsibilities of an adult. Even before I tuned eighteen, my mom would remind me that I was soon going to be an adult so I had to start acting like one, meaning that I had to start doing things on my own. Maybe I am the only one who feels this way, but as soon as my parents recognized me as an individual, what I have desired for the past eighteen years, I felt as if I had been thrown to the wolves. After eighteen years of my parents scheduling everything for me, paying for everything, and pretty much making all my decisions for me, I am now expected to know how to make decisions on my own when I still could not decide, on most days, what shoes I wanted to wear or what to eat for breakfast. On my eighteenth birthday, I was expected to make one of the most important decisions of my life by deciding what college to attend in the fall. It was already overwhelming, and then I began being questioned on what career I wanted to pursue. My response to all of this: “I do not know!” I am still just a kid. I do not know what my future holds and I do not have it all figured out quite yet. Sure, call me an adult, because, yes, I am eighteen years old; however, eighteen is just another number. It does not mean that I am ready to handle being on my own. So, am I really considered an “adult” if I still need the financial help and the personal guidance of my parents? After all of these years of wanting to grow up, I really do not want to grow up anymore.

"An Attempt to Prevent Complacency" by Delia M

Nausea. Sweaty palms. Bags under my eyes that to this day have not gone away. And suddenly, the long monotonous sound of an alarm. The results were in.

I sat outside of the gym with my equally nervous ASB family, attempting some last minute bargaining with some higher omniscient power, promising to become a better person or something in exchange for my position. As if that had ever worked out for me.

And so the process began, as an unnaturally high spirited voice announced the new class officers for 2013 – 2014.

Adrenaline rush. Shock. And then the deflation as I realized my name wasn’t called. I tried to suppress the tears that insisted to materialize. My friends surrounded me to offer their condolences, reassuring me that everything would be okay. And for the most part everything was okay. For the most part.

Running a high school campaign, as trivial as it sounds, and admittedly, is in relation to the grand scheme of things, is one of the most grueling processes I have ever undertaken. I mean realistically, campaigning starts months before an actual election week. I had to spread the word verbally on a weekly basis well before sign-ups for positions even arrived, and believe me, it was incredibly apparent that my peers had virtually no interest in what I had to say. I could actually see their annoyance grow with me as I talked about my upcoming election nonstop, but it was almost impossible for me to stop talking about the one thing that was constantly running through my mind. Anything to get the word out right?

Then came the actual planning of my campaign. Things I was forced to consider include but are not limited to resources, including money, artistic ability, and availability of time, slogans, pop culture references, and of course, differentiation amongst my competitors. All of my ideas were confined to ten posters, one giant banner, six shirts, and unlimited amounts of flyers, pins and ads on social media.

Finally, I went through the actual campaign week which consisted of early morning set up, incessant paranoia, and begging strangers to vote for me. The begging was the absolute worst aspect of this process because people never failed to ask me the one question I wished they wouldn’t. “What are some reasons for why you deserve this position?” How do I even begin to answer that question? Honestly, I don’t. Frankly, I don’t think I deserve anything, I mean really, what makes me so entitled to anything on this earth? But of course I couldn’t say that, so instead I talked about how dedicated and hardworking and awesome I am, and how I promised to improve school events for the upcoming school year. As if it were that simple. As if they actually cared and would actually make the effort to wait in a line to circle my name.

I did everything I was supposed to do, and despite my efforts, I managed to lose my election.

Fast forward to the 2014 – 2015 school elections. The experience remained identical, except this time I actually became a president. ASB president. A middle school dream achieved. How cool.

No, not really. It has its perks, but overall, my year has consisted of dealing with some of the most opinionated and incompetent people I’ve ever met in my entire life. I’ve come to realize that everyone has an agenda, and will try to manipulate you in whatever way is most convenient for them. I’ve had to endure a year in which people blame me for the disappointing school events I said I would improve, when realistically I have absolutely zero influence over how things are actually done at school. But I’ve learned that people aren’t interested in the truth, so I’ve found myself apologizing for decisions that neither ASB students nor I made, simply because it is easier than trying to explain the politics of the education system.

For the longest time, I was under the impression that I wanted to be ASB president. Now, if I had to attend high school for another year, I’m not sure if I would even join the program, much less be president.

And so you see, sometimes what we think we want is actually what ends up hurting us the most. I’ve lost so much of the hope and positivity that existed in my life before I became president. We spend so much time and energy trying to convince ourselves that we’re happier than we really are, and end up being complacent when it comes to the quality of our lives. I encourage everyone to find something that they are passionate about, and to let that passion lead their lives. However, I also urge people to recognize when they exist in less than ideal situations, and to do everything in their power to fix them or remove themselves from them. But that’s just my opinion.  

"Autocannibalism" by Mika O.

 Three forks, now I just need to get the placement right. The small fish fork goes to the left of the dinner fork, and the dinner fork goes to the right of the small salad fork. All of this will go on the right of the plate and the knife arrangement will go on the left. Dear god, if I don’t set my knives the right way again I’ll die of shame; placement is everything.

It’s beautiful: the table, the plating, the way the knives add the slightest bit of danger to the scene, everything. Should I open the window blinds for a soft, natural lighting? Or should I bring the studio lights in and dark out the rest of the room for a harsh, dramatic effect? A delicate, window lighting would be more artistic but studio lights would be blunt, I choose the latter: a dramatic setting for a bold statement, I love it.

Six o’clock, right on the dot. The Opioid should be in full effect right now, but I’ll check before I begin, as planned. A small slice between my fingers will do it. And… nothing, I feel nothing. What can I expect from the dosage I took anyways, it should’ve been enough to kill me. Though I’d like to say that there’s now a pinching feeling between my ring and middle finger, it’s probably just all in my head. Maybe I should have taken a cue from “The Survivor Type” and used cocaine instead, I laugh at this idea.

I can finally begin. A new film roll is loaded into the camera and set down on the granite countertop next to an empty wine glass and a tray of ice. My fingers glide down an arrangement of knives that aren’t photo worthy, feeling the steel of each santoku blade before I find the one I had sharpened the night before. Deep breaths, I can feel my heart pounding despite my complete self-assurance in this decision. I sit in the chair placed in front of my counter and rub my hand up and down the top of my thigh, feeling exactly what needs to be removed to avoid blood loss too quickly. I grab the knife and hold it an angle mid thigh, my grip is firm. One piece is all I need. I take one last moment to envision exactly how I want the slab to be plated, red meat up, next to a wine glass of crimson fluid; the color will show up tastefully on camera. I’m ready. I watch as if someone else’s hand pushes down on the blade, and as it begins to force it’s way under my skin I hope to myself that it will taste as good as it’s going to look.

"Best Family Memories" by Idalys M

Have you ever just sat there and thought about the most screwed up things that have taken place in your life? Ha. Yeah that’s what I am doing right now… So much fun.

When I look back at my life growing up, the memories that have taken place in my house have always popped up first. Sadly, they aren’t the happy ones. Let’s take a trip down memory lane.

Running into the family room to see my dad and uncle assisting her up the stairs. Thinking it was all fun and games, I acted as if I was a person who directed planes ready for takeoff, telling them where to go. She is such a mess right now. Why isn’t she making any sense right now? Hmm weird.

As time went on, I found out what was really going on with her. She thinks it is okay to just walk around the house like this while my friends are over. What is her problem? Acting like such a fool in front of 9 year olds… stupid drunk. Like who in their right mind would decide to go water the cement then try running slightly after causing herself to fall and break her leg. What would make this situation better? Her doing it while I have company over… My friends must think she’s insane.

My baby sister is now here. Great, she’s going to have to grow up with the same crap I’ve dealt with. I don’t want this for her at all.

How lovely, I’m just lying in my bed watching TV when BAM I hear a loud bang and yelling. Of course! It’s my drunk grandmother arguing with my father… just to make it worst… she swung on my dad completely miss and hit my 2 year old sister. What a wonderful family memory I have here.

Because of her stupid mistakes, my father has to pay… she kicked him out of “her” house… as if she pays the bills here. Since that is one less adult here to help with her, looks like it’s time for this 12 year old to grow up and take some responsibility.

My mom is working late tonight and I have a feeling like something is up. I go downstairs to investigate and what do I find? My drunken grandmother passed out on the couch looking like a slob. She has food everywhere and can’t even make it into her mouth… what is wrong with her?! It’s absolutely disgusting…Oh hey, there is a bottle right there. Let me grab it while she is asleep and dump it down the drain. As I reached for it, she awakes from her drunken slumber. She realizes what I am doing and decides to chase me down and pin me up against the wall and fight me until I give her the bottle. Good thing my roommate was home to help get this mad woman off me. Like who does that? Attacks their own granddaughter for a bottle of vodka.

Damn... just a few wonderful memories I always look back on and my grandma wonders why I look at her with disgust. Too bad she doesn’t remember any of the pain, physically and mentally, she has caused me. 

"The Village People of Pasadena" By: Melissa G

Screeeeeeeeeeeeech!

*Whew…just missed them.

SLAM!!!

*Alright, collect yourself. What do I do? That’s right…the yellow triangle…alright…now get over.

A train of cars with flashing yellow lights pulled off to the side. Seven looks of disdain exited five cars. The first belonged to a man with legs any woman would be jealous of. Waxed with the utmost precision to show off the khaki FedEx uniform.

*Wow…can teeth even be that white? The only thing more blinding is that overly upbeat personality. Seriously dude, we get it…you stopped quickly to avoid an accident. Tell that to the four cars behind you.

After Ken came Ike and Tina, closing their doors to everything but their current argument. Tina and her fro had never been in an accident before and were understandably upset. Ike however seemed indifferent, listening to his music rocking his fisherman hat back and forth.

*Yeah, yeah, yeah I get it Tina…32 years old and you’ve never been in an accident. Just keep rolling…rolling.

Silent Gandhi followed Ike and Tina. Pleated slacks and aftershave were the only noticeable aspects of Gandhi. He didn’t speak a single word. He didn’t have to speak, as the next face out of the next car did enough talking for all seven village people.

 Hair-brained Mother Theresa stepped onto the scene. I say this only because that is definitely the description she would have given herself. Well, the Mother Theresa part at least. She was the yacker…the Chihuahua of the group. Never has anyone heard someone say more that something wasn’t their fault. The innocent one of the bunch who was overly concerned with keeping an already calm bunch calm.

*If I hear her say, “Alright everyone has the same story right? I stopped in time and didn’t hit anyone and everyone knows that. I’m so glad everyone is calm and knows that I am not at fault,” one more time I’ll jump into moving traffic.

As if Ken, Ike, Tina, Gandhi, and Mother Theresa weren’t enough excitement for one night, Miley exited her car and entered the scene. Although on her way back from spring break, Miley was quite the calm one. She was more Miley circa 2006 than 2015 Miley. She tirelessly apologized for being the 70mph caboose that gave us all a big jolt.

*I’m sorry…did you say Adrianna’s Insurance? Is that a real insurance company? …Oh God,…my car is never getting fixed.

Red and Blue flashing lights appeared. Chuck Norris exited his car and told the village people to get off the next exit safely and pull into the parking lot of the local YMCA. He made the village people line up in train car order so he could get an accurate assessment of what went on that night. First of course was Upbeat Ken, then Quarreling Ike and Tina, Silent Gandhi, Yacking Mother Theresa, then 2006 Miley. That makes six…seven including myself. Where was I in the lineup you might ask? …Yep…standing next to my yacking mother.

“'Significant Other' Advice" by Madi C

One day, you will fall under complete infatuation with someone. They will tell you everything you want to hear. You will succumb to the beauty in their words.

“You’re beautiful.”

“I cannot live without you.”

They will say.

You will be young, naïve, untouched, unloved, and because of this, in that very moment you will believe what they say. Why would you have any reason not to? Just because they touch your skin once does not imply they mean what they say. They will hide behind the façade of their beautiful words they once spoke to you, just long enough for you to believe that they will be there forever.  When in reality, all they desire is to fool you long enough to smell the scent of your sheets.

They will leave.

They will absolutely leave.  You will be blind-sighted because you believed the lies they so beautifully strung together.  They will leave and you will be perfectly fine in this world without them. You’re going to think this is the worst thing that has ever happened to you and that the world is over. You’re going to think that you’re never going to be capable of loving again; or worse, no one will love you again. But you couldn’t be more wrong. The world goes on; your tears will stop falling.  You will no longer look tired or feel empty.

Faster than you think, that person you thought you couldn’t live without will be someone you can’t stand to see, hear, or think about.

There are seven billion people in this world. Cut that into pieces to narrow down the gender(s) you’re interested in, age, language, type… and so on.

That still leaves you with, let’s say, a billion people in this world to choose from.

There are a billion other people in this world who have the potential to love you so much that their bones ache.  A billion sets of lips to kiss, a billion pairs of hands to hold, a billion pairs of eyes to fall in love with, a billion sets of arms to be wrapped up in.

There are seven billion sets of lungs in this world, one of those seven billion being yours. That one person who took your breath away will not even compare to the one you will find that will remind you to breathe.

That being said, don’t let that one person who broke your heart that one time take from who you are now, and who will you will be in the future.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you even when they are no longer in your life.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you into thinking that everyone will be like them.

It sure as hell won’t be easy, but you’re a fighter. Happiness is locked deep inside of us all. The key to that happiness is locked inside of your fist, tucked beneath your scraped, bloodied knuckles. Remind yourself: your fight is almost over.  You will let that happiness out.

Do not allow that one person to continue to manipulate you into thinking you’d rather not feel. Sometimes, it hurts to feel. I know this firsthand, but I also know that it is so much worse to be numb. Let your heart throb against your ribs.

Happiness is locked deep inside of us all.

Especially in you.

Don’t let one, in seven billion, lead you to believe otherwise.