An Exciting Vacation

Author's Note: This is a short story on how we found that I have a seizure disorder.

I woke up in a soft bed surrounded by two men and my mom. My mom looked down at me holding my hand for dear life. I see the men with wires, needles, and tubes. Connecting, what seems like, 5 million wires to me. Poking me with needles and drawing my blood. Then it hit me. What’s going on? I was too out of it to comprehend the fact that I was in an ambulance and something bad had happened. In fact I was so out of it I just sat there smiled, looked around, and didn’t say a word.

Finally, one of the men looked at me and ask what my name was. I looked at him puzzled, because I thought to myself, what is my name? I looked at him and said in a giggly tone “I know this one!” I said as if I was being quizzed in school.

When we got to the hospital I was lifted by a big man onto a hospital bed and was wheeled into a small white room. I could hear only pieces of what my mom was saying to the doctor and beeping from the 5 million electrodes attached to me, I was still gaining consciousness. All I could see were lips moving and my mom’s concerned face. “She had a seizure,” my mom said. What? I had a seizure? I thought to myself. I had no idea what was going on. The only knowledge I had of seizures is that one time we thought my sister had one when she got her blood drawn, but it was false.

 I laid there silent, I had nothing to do or say. The rest of my family came. They walked in slowly, not know really what to do. Instantly my eldest sister, Katie, walks to my bed in tears and hugs me while I’m still trying to figure out what happened. The rest of my family walks over and gives me a hug. Once the doctor walked in he explained everything that happened. It turns out Katie was the one who found me seizing on the floor, that’s why she was so upset.

 A few I.Vs later I was released and was able to go back to the hotel. Oh yeah! I’m on vacation! I remembered as I entered the car. I completely forgot the fact that I was in Florida, that did brighten my mood a bit.

 Once we were back to the hotel I fell right back to sleep as if nothing ever happened. The next morning I woke up and was completely back to normal and it was time for some explanation. Katie told me that she heard choking and found me out of my bed and on the floor twitching. She screamed for my parents and my dad yelled for my mom to call 911.

Turns out there are stages in seizures. Stage 1, the twitching. Stage 2, I started spitting up like a baby that was just burped. Stage 3, foaming. My dad said I had foam coming out of my mouth and that’s when they thought that they might lose me. Stage 4, being delusional. I had absolutely no idea who anyone was and freaked out until the ambulance came. My parents had no idea what was going to happen after that. Was it cancer? Brain tumor? Or would I even make it through the night?

Today I am now taking medication for seizures, because we found out that it will be a lifelong battle. What happened to me I look at in perspective. I could have a tumor in my brain or it could be even worse. I am just thankful that I have the loving, supportive family I have and that I am going to be just fine.

The House That Built Me (Revised)

Author's Note: This is a text analysis piece that I revised.

This is the house that you colored on the walls when you were three years old and got a time out. The house where you fell off your bed and got a black eye. Where you took your prom pictures. The house were the love of your life called you and asked you on a date. This is the house that built you. Miranda Lambert was thinking of memories of that sort while writing the song, “The House That Built Me”.

For example, “But these handprints on the front steps are mine.” This is something that I believe many people can relate to. Not specifically having your handprints on your door step. Things like an indent on the front door is where your dad ran into because he thought the door was open and you and your sibling laughed for days. I can really relate to this verse because it instantly reminds me of when I was younger and just learned how to spell my name, so I carved it into the wood on the windowsill. Memories of these are the ones that build you and the things you carry with you as you grow older.

As you get older, we all are really like projects being built by our past. We are built by our dings, cuts, and indents. “I bet you didn’t know under that live oak
my favorite dog is buried in the yard,” a memory like this that Miranda including in her song is just a little example of the things that we carry with us forever and make us who we are.

Miranda Lambert’s lyrics remind me a lot of Dierks Bentley. One of his recent songs is home and he talks about many different things he loves about his hometown. “It’s been a long hard ride, got a ways to go, but this is still the place that we all call home.” This lyric is what really reminds me of Miranda and her writing about her home. Dierks mentions how his life has been tough at times and that there will be more struggles, but we all have a place that we call home. Both of their music, if it’s personal or not, are popular because what they sing about is so real and they don’t sugar coat anything. They talk about how life can sometimes not be fun and listeners really like that.

Once you reach the end of the song Miranda writes about how we will get lost and get hurt, but we will always find our way back home. “I thought if I could touch this place or feel this brokenness inside me might start healing.” This verse is something you can easily connect with because we have all felt broken or alone and have searched for something to save us.

I can really easily connect with a song like this because I have so many memories with my family and the house I’ve grown up in. Miranda did a wonderful job writing lyrics that will make the listeners remember memories like hers that she writes about. By the time I’m older I know I will get stuck in a rut every once in a while, but I always will remember the memories I have in the house that built me.

The House That Built Me

Author's Note: This is a text analysis on the song The House That Built Me by Miranda Lambert.

This is the house that you colored on the walls when you were three years old and got a time out. The house where you fell off your bed and got a black eye. Where you took your prom pictures. The house were the love of your life called you and asked you on a date. This is the house that built you. Miranda Lambert was thinking of memories of that sort while writing the song, The House That Built Me.

“But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.” This is something that I believe many people can relate to. Not specifically having your handprints on your door step. Things like an indent on the front door is where your dad ran into because he thought the door was open and you and your sibling laughed for days. I can really relate to this verse because it instantly reminds me of when I was younger and just learned how to spell my name, so I carved it into the wood on the windowsill. Memories of these are the ones that build you.

As you get older, we all are really like projects being built by our past. We are built by our dings, cuts, and indents. “I bet you didn’t know under that live oak
my favorite dog is buried in the yard,” a memory like this that Miranda including in her song is just a little example of the things that we carry with us forever and make us who we are.

Miranda Lambert’s lyrics remind me a lot of Dierks Bentley. He writes a lot about personal experience and memories from his past that I think really attracts people to his music. Both of their music, if it’s personal or not, are popular because what they sing about is so real and they don’t sugar coat anything. They talk about how life can sometimes not be fun and listeners really like that.

Once you reach the end of the song Miranda writes about how we will get lost and get hurt, but we will always find our way back home. “I thought if I could touch this place or feel this brokenness inside me might start healing.” That verse is a great example of being lost and finding yourself and remember what is really important; family.

I can really easily connect with a song like this because I have so many memories with my family and the house I’ve grown up in. Miranda did a wonderful job writing lyrics that will make the listeners remember memories like hers that she writes about. By the time I’m older I know I will get stuck in a rut every once in a while, but I always will remember the memories I have in the house that built me.

Letters To Elizabeth

Dear Elizabeth,

We had the absolute best Grandpa in the world. Sounds cliché, doesn’t it? But I really mean it. Every second of the day he’d do anything he could to either entertain or make someone laugh. He was a great husband, father, son, and friend. You, grandpa, and I had a movie-perfect granddaughter and grandfather relationship. When I say movie-perfect I mean relationships you’d see in the movies. Always laughing, going places together, playing games. He was like our best friend. Grandma and grandpa had just moved right across the street from us and it was the ultimate child’s dream.

When you’re a kid you always couldn’t wait until the day that you get to spend at grandma and grandpa’s house. Well, we had them just across the street and could walk right over whenever our heart desired.  The three of us had a special game we’d always love to play, no one else could play with us. Every time we played it, it ended with us laughing from the gut and barley being able to breathe. The point of the game is for him to find the two of us around the house. He’d take of his glasses and pretend he was completely blind and go around the house “blindly” walking around, acting as if he couldn’t see a thing! Once he found us after a good 20 minutes of searching, he’d scoop us into his arms and tickle us until we couldn’t take it anymore.

I embraced every one of those tickles, but it never occurred to me that one day those tickles and laughs with grandpa would have to go. Go to some place better. He passed away when I was five and you were 8. We were too young to lose such a close friend . It took me until after his funeral to really get upset about his death because, there were so many people trying to talk to me and hug me that I didn’t even have the time to think of what had happened in the past week. The feeling kept me numb on both the inside and out. It went by so quickly once we brought in all of the flowers, cards, and gifts from the car it was time to release the feelings I’ve been holding in for what feels like forever.

When I say forever, I mean it. The accident helped me get through losing grandpa, but grief is forever. The pain never leaves and the memories are engraved into my mind like our little hand prints in the cement on the sidewalk. Seeing those hand prints make me cringe, thinking of us swinging and laughing. When I look at the hand print I see you in a car being tossed like a rag doll. I see shards of glass from the wind shield being thrown around you. Then I see you in a hospital bed with wires on your chest, oxygen tubes in your nose and scars on your right side were the car hit you. I still grieve for grandpa and that part of you that I lost, but proceed to carry on. Ever since his passing I feel like death is an ugly dog following me at my feet, waiting to attack. Waiting to swallow me whole, eating away at me until I collapse. Until I snap back into focus and think about how you wouldn’t want me in this misery and I go on with my life. Carrying on and helping you fight through your injuries. That was one of grandpa’s expertise. He would give the best lectures and speeches. I really hope someday you will remember him again and the love he shared with us.

 I don’t really know what pushed me to write to you about grandpa but I thought that since we found that your memory is gone you would like to re-learn the special things about your family. Having to remind you of my name or feed you hurts. It makes me feel like I should be the one in the wheel chair. The day of the accident was a stupid mistake that I blame myself for. I was screaming and laughing and bugging mom, it’s not her fault she lost control of the wheel. Even though you are like a different person now, I know that somewhere Liz is there smiling.

                                                                                     With all of my love,

                                                                                                                                    Rebecca

Never will I Return

Author's Note: This is a parody of This is Just To Say. This isn't a book or anything I just wrote it in the form of the poem. My real parody is Forgive Me.

I have received your letters

My love

I apologize

I left so sudden

And which

You are probably

Waiting for

My return

I have

Moved on

And I will never

Come home to you

Forgive Me

I’m sorry

My children

For I have

Abandoned you

And which

You were hoping

And waiting

For freedom

Forgive me

It is the

House that has

Changed me

Author’s Note: This poem is about the book Flowers In the Attic by VC. Andrews. It is the mother apologizing to her four children for leaving them in the attic. Throughout the book you can tell that the mother is slowly becoming a cruel person. You then find that it is the house where they live that is causing her evil doings. 

I am the Beach

 Author's Note: This is my figurative language that I analyzed.

Parent's Love

Author's Note: This is a creative piece about parents and how we should be thankful for them. Enjoy!

Since the day I was born my parents have been there for me and respected me even if I had yet to take my first steps. If they raised their voice to me it was just because they loved me and wanted to protect me. I decided to write my essay on parents because there isn’t anything that can add up enough to fully thank them for what they do for us. They love you unconditionally and never stop, even if you push their buttons.

When I was two years old we were on vacation in Texas and I became very ill. I was diagnosed with e-coli,  a disease you can get eating meats that are poorly cooked or when your intestines are blocked. For me, my intestines were clogged and I was just a toddler. Through every poke of a needle or injection of medication, my parents were both there holding my hand. I grew healthier and defeated the illness when the doctors weren’t sure if I would make it. After I was better again life went on and everything was back to normal. Suddenly, e-coli crept back into our lives like the itsy bitsy spider going back up the spout.  Well down came the rain to completely wash my family and I out! My parents were tired and scared, we were entering yet another nightmare. Once again my parents kept fight for me because I was too young to fight myself. All I knew was that there were mean people who kept poking me with something that was painful and that my stomach hurt. They fought for me because I couldn’t and that means a lot to me.

They haven’t only been there for me when I was hurting or ill. Parents are always there to watch every recital, game, concert, musical, even backyard play put on by you and the kids in the neighborhood. When I was Sharpay or Annie, or even when I was one of the angels that just Christmas carols the whole show,  they were in the audience every night. They’ll be the ones with the old video camera not taking their eyes off you for a second. Parents do everything they can to let you know they love you. Sometimes they may do a little too much to let you know, but I love them for that.

When moms and dads  do accessibly say “I love you pumpkin!” Or in my case, “I love you my fuzzy bunny,” I don’t know why that’s my nickname, that’s just parents being parents. They were made to wipe the peanut butter from the corner of your mouth, even if you’re a seventeen year old! Or do their best to make conversation when you don’t want to talk. My point I’m trying to get across in this essay is I am very thankful for the all the times my mom has wiped my face off or came up and tickled me while I was watching T.V or when my dad picked me up swung me around. It’s not going to last forever and soon you’ll have a husband or wife and kids of your own that you have to take care of. Then in your mind something will click and you’ll think, when they were doing all those things that annoyed me they did it because they loved me.

Since they do love you so much, there will be much more wiping peanut butter from  your mouth or yelling in public,  “I love you honey, be safe!” Be sure to show them how much you appreciate them sometimes by telling them you love them or even just a hug. They love it, I promise. Parents love nothing more than their own children coming up to them with a big hug. So let them cuddle you and love on you, because they deserve it .

In Another Life

Author's Note: This is a short poem about a young child dreaming of another life without physical abuse.

In another life the pain wouldn’t stay.

The bruises would go away ,

And in the fields we would play.

You’d gaze up at me.

My hand in yours,

Beneath the trees.

But that’s not reality.

The bruises to stay ,

The beatings to pay .

And the pain just won’t go away.

Girl Scout Emma!

Author's Note: This is a creative piece I wrote on a little girl named Emma who was selling girl scout cookies.

“La la loopsy, La la loopsy ,” little seven year old Emma sang skipping down Walnut St. She pulled her red wagon, filled with girl scout cookies, in her right hand. Her mind hopping from topic to topic, she saw a big white house with blue shutters and a red door. Emma loved the way the house popped. She decided to stop at Ms. Toni’s house before she were to go to the big white one. Ms.Toni was Emma’s kindergarten teacher, she loves sweets and Emma was sure she would get a good buy from Ms.Toni. Emma delicately walked up to Ms.Toni’s yellow door and knocked three hard knocks. Ms.Toni opens the door. Her golden blonde hair lit up her big, green eyes.”Why hello there miss Emma. What can I do for you?” She said with a soft tone.”I am from troop 5703 and I would like to sell you cookies” Emma said in the most adult like voice she could.”Oh, well then.”Ms.Toni said noticing this was strictly business.”I should go get my check book!” As Ms.Toni left to get her check book she caught a glimpse of Emma celebrating her sell. As Ms.Toni steps onto the doorstep with her check book in hand she says, “Well, what are my options?” “We have many kinds of cookies Ms.Toni, like peanut butter swirl, peppermint patty, cocoanut crisp, even lemon drop!” “Wow, you sure do! I will take two peppermint patties and one lemon drop!” Emma and Ms.Toni exchange a check and three boxes of cookies.”Troop 5703 appreciates your business.” Ms. Toni smiles and says, ”I sure do appreciate troop 5703’s cookies! Have a good day!” Ms.Toni waved to Emma and shut her door. Emma headed toward the big white house and was excited for what was yet to come.

He Showed Mercy to a Harlot

Author's Note: This is a Theme essay on Hosea, a man from the bible, was called by god to marry a harlot and why the theme is mercy.

Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers, is an amazing novel to read for teen girls. In my opinion the theme of the book is mercy. A young girl, Angel, is sold to a prostitution center at a young age and learns the horrors of men and the one thing they want. Angel lost the ability to trust and make friends. Later in life a man named Michael Hosea comes and spends every minute he can with her. He knows the terrible things she’s seen and done, but he looked passed all of it. After a while of visiting he finally is able to buy her from the prostitution center to give her a better life. Angel, thought of Michael as any other man that stepped into her room to use her. Michael didn’t care about her past, he loved her and would never hurt her in any way. He showed her mercy, in which Angel has never experienced before. She hated him just like she hated all the other men. Angel  didn’t believe him one bit, she’s been told the same things ever since she was sold.

When Angel was sold to the prostitution center, which is called Pair-A-Dice, she was used every night until she was eighteen just to fulfill men’s needs and to fill the owner, Magowan’s, wallet. She has never spoken to a man with such patience and forgiveness like Michael and it drove her nuts. It took Angel so long to realize he was different and there were better things out there. Angel was so used evil that it took her a very long time after Michael Hosea bought her from Pair-a-Dice to realize he was different. For example in the book Angel would often feel this, “Angel grew relentless with time. Something was at work inside her, something slow and insidious and threatening. She liked the life in this little cabin. She felt comfortable and safe, except for Michael Hosea.” That was a good example of how she struggled to trust him. Michael Hosea knew he would have to fight for her and give her a lot of mercy to let her know she’s forgiven for what she’s done and deserves more.

I haven’t read many books like this one before, it’s filled with hatred, regret, and loss. I would usually stray from a book like this, but I’ve grown a new interest for books that have to do with this setting. One of the few books I’ve read that are alike this one is Speak. The main character Melinda and Angel  are a lot alike. Both lost and lonely. Another similarity I noticed was that they both are stubborn and won’t admit that they both desperately need something. For Melinda it would be someone just to talk to and tell everything that happened one night that she can’t seem to get out. And for Angel it would be someone to really love her not someone who loves what she can do.

In the end of  Speak and Redeeming Love, they both became content with their lives and got that one thing it is that they really needed. Angel learned why Michael Hosea, a young farm boy, paid to save her from Pair-o-Dice and why he was being so kind after the terrible things she had done. He showed her mercy for her mistakes and she loved him for that.

My Beautiful Angel

Author's Note: This is a creative piece about when my grandpa passed away.

I see his eyes glimmering at me

I feel his laughter in me

and his comfort all around me

My mom wraps her arms around me to pick me up

she walks me closer to see a man in a dark wooden casket

To see the horrors of my best friend dead is like someone flushing all the happiness and memories from your body

My two older sisters were there stroking his hair and holding his hand

"I love you grandpa." I'd hear them whisper

I turn my head because I can't stand to see him so cold and still.

I sit down on a chair in the back of the room watching my parents and grandma shaking our guests hands.

I straighten my favorite yellow dress with pink flowers

I hear people apologizing and hugging my family

They don't know, I think to myself. He was my grandpa, he read to me, and danced with me, and played games with me

I feel sick. 

I tugged my mom's dress and told I don't feel good.

My uncle took me into another room in the back of the funeral home

He gives me a cold rag to put on my forehead as I lay on an old, smelly couch.

I don't have the flu or a fever

I don't feel well because I don't get to see my grandpa anymore.

All I want right now is to see my grandpa and play a game with him. 

I know he is always with me

I have an angel watching over me

Protecting me and making sure I'm safe

I don't know why Jesus decided it was time for my friend to go

But I trust that he had a reason 

I now can say that I have the nicest, funniest, angel ever

I Love You To Heaven and Back

Author's Note: This is a short story about a young girl who dies of cancer and comes to her mom in spirit to help her grieve. 

I felt my eyes get heavy through the blur of my tears, I saw mama crying and clinging to my hand. I relaxed because I knew it was my time. I could feel god’s presence, I could see him stretching out to me like a father to his young daughter. I  never believed in “seeing a light.” I felt calm and warm, knowing the pain would be gone soon comforted me. I saw the beautiful face of god shining before me and I took my last breathe. In a way I’m kind of glad I left that big, cold, rock of a planet, though I've never really known were I’d be going when I died, now I do. I wish there was a way I could tell mama I wish I could run to her and say how beautiful it is and how wonderful this man is, but he’s not a man he’s god and an angel at the same time. His touch is sweet, his voice is soft, and his love for me is  eternal.

I can see mama and me in that hospital room. Mama lays on my cold chest, no heart beat, no feeling of a pulse or blood rushing through my veins. “Mama!” I yelled, “Mama! Mama I’m here! Look at me!” I fall to the ground and crawl to mamas wry feet. Standing up I try to get her attention, “Listen to me! I’m right here mama, I’m right here!” She stands up as if she heard and turns right towards my face. “I love you Lily, I love you so much.” I hear her say quietly, “I love you too, mama.”

She can’t hear or see me I have to make things right before I spend forever in heaven or until it’s mamas time to come with me. I walked to my house an there’s six different bouquets of flowers on our deck

I walked in the small, empty house and grab paper and pencil. I don’t know if it’s possible for mama to see or feel me but it’s worth a try. I write to her and say how I love her, I told her cancer doesn’t exist in heaven and that I’m her angel now. Mama walked up into the doorway at midnight, she didn’t even analogue the flowers. She’s  never been the type that likes attention she believes in working hard

and taking care of yourself and your family. She walked past the table with the letter on it  and went to bed. The next morning she got a big cup of coffee and finally notices the letter and sprints to it like it was a million dollars sitting on our counter. She reads the letter and presses it against her heart. “I feel you Lily.” She whispers, “I love you too baby girl.”

I don’t know if mama ever wondered how that note got there if I wrote it when I knew I was going to die or if I had someone put it there. I don’t think she really cares, just to know I’m happy makes her feel good. I will never know the feeling of loving a man, holding my first child, or even graduating eighth grade. I am better off here than there, I don’t feel pain or sorrow. Only the love of the lord and his hand in mine. I hope my letter comforted mama I want her to go on and live her life. She knows I’m in heaven and that I will be watching out for her. “I will be checking in on you from time to time. Until then, I want you to think of me. When you see a sunrise, I’ll be the rays of sun on your skin. When you’re riding your bike, I’ll be the fall breeze running through your hair. I’ll be  seeing you mama, I love you.”

I Deserve More, She Deserves Punishment

Author's Note: In this story, it switches off between Erin's point of view and her abusive husband Kevin's.

I still have dishes to clean, the floor to vacuum, the windows to dust. Kevin will be home any minute and when he steps through the door he’ll see what little I got done, and he’ll hit me, I thought to myself. He’ll throw me to the ground and kick me until I vomit or punch my gut and I’ll end up peeing out blood. Nothing is ever good enough for that man. I quickly ran to underneath the sink to get the dusting supply and then ran to the closet in our bedroom to get the vacuum. If I hurry I just might get everything done. Kevin doesn’t like to come home to an untidy house. I got everything done and even had time put on something sexy for him, because he doesn't like it when I wear my sweats. The daily routine gets old but I know every day I get closer to escaping from this nightmare. Sometimes I dream that none of this ever happened and were back on our honeymoon before the first time he ever hit me. Then I wake up and feel the pain and see the bruises from the day before.

I work for her, I bought a house for her, I take her to get her hair done, And what do I get back in return? Nothing. She takes advantage of me. All she does is wait for the timer on the washing machine to go off, I thought. I walked up to the door and took a deep breath. I’ll walk in this door and she’ll be happily sitting on the couch reading a book that I took her to the library to get. She will act like everything’s ok when it’s not. She’ll put her weak arms around me and think that she can suck me into her mind games with her looks. I turn the doorknob and I’m welcomed home with the smell of a home cooked meal on the stove and Erin in a short, red, cocktail dress. I like it when she wears those dresses, I hate seeing her in sweatpants and t-shirts. A man is supposed to have a slim, beautiful wife that makes him feel like a proud man. Erin looks at me with her big brown eyes and her freshly dyed hair thinking she can crawl into my arms and act like everything’s okay. I don’t deserve this she is a selfish coward and I’m the one being treated this way. Erin walks over to me and puts her arms around my neck just as I imagined. She gets a confused look on her face because of my silence. I slap her across the face. She falls to the ground. I can see her holding back tears, I hate it when she cries, she’s weak. “What’s wrong? What happened?” She asks, acting innocent. “On my day off, my only day off every week. You decide to go get your hair done. Your selfish Erin and you know it. You know I don’t like hitting you, but you can be so stupid sometimes!” I felt the pressure in my face build and I kicked her.

I fall to the ground, I feel a sting in my gut and I vomit all over the floor. Kevin helps me stand and he gives me a cold rag holding me close.”I’m sorry baby, sometimes you just don’t think.” It takes everything in me not to push him away and slap him across his face. I look at him and lie ,”I know baby, I know.” That night I was up every hour vomiting in the toilet, I could still feel the stinging sensation in my gut and it makes me want to scream. The next morning I wake up, limp to the kitchen, and make Kevin his bacon and eggs. Once he was ready to leave he gives me a hug and a long unwanted kiss, then he leaves. I go to the bathroom to get any type of pain reliever I can find. Motivating myself I sit on the couch thinking in a few days I’ll be far away from him and he’ll never touch me again. Last night I was able to steal 3 dollars from Kevin, I walked out the front door to the flower bed in our front yard. I lifted the farthest pot and added the little money to the rest I stole from him other times. Since I started stealing I have 97 dollars, that’s almost enough to escape. To think that in a week I’ll be a free woman and on my own.

I walk up to my desk and found a bundle of papers from a case I’m currently working on. There’s a young boy who was killed from a bullet that shot up through the floor. His mother found him dead, leaning on the kitchen table with a bullet through his gut. I looked over the papers and poured a bottle of whiskey. I think of Erin and her vomiting all over our new kitchen floor, I think of her cleaning and putting fresh flowers in a vase on the dining room table. I think of the way she walks and how it makes me smile and the way she looked in that red dress last night, before she was punished. Through the curtain I see nothing but a boring police station office filled with bored, gossiping officers. I hate gossip. They look at me and pretend wave as if I would wave right back. I return to my papers and proceed in finding the one who killed the young boy.

Kevin walked through the door looking pleased with my work, but stressed with his.”Long day?” I ask him as I kiss his cheek. He says nothing and violently pulls me closer and roughly kisses me on the lips.”What’s for dinner?” He says setting his jacket on the living room chair. “I was thinking chili would be nice because of cold weather we’ve had lately” I try to make it sound like I want conversation, but he does nothing but sit on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his right hand and the remote in the left.”Yeah, sounds good,” Kevin replies softly. I start the chili and as it’s sitting on the stove I walk to the couch and sit in his arms. Trying to please him I kiss cheek and act interested in the T.V.”Did you find anything about the boy?” I could tell he didn’t want to say anything about it, so I stood up, grabbed his empty glass and put it on the counter.”Is dinner ready?” “Yeah!” I replied trying to act enthused. He sat at the two person table and waited for me to serve him his dinner. With my back turned away from him I rolled my eyes, he isn’t even acknowledging the fact that I’m trying to make conversation and help him! I hand him his dinner in a nice glass bowl on a matching plate underneath it. We sit silent at the table.”How was your day?” Kevin says breaking the silence.”Good! I got some dusting done and put some new sheets on our bed. He stops eating and I look up at him and slightly smile from the corner of my mouth. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and looks back at me and smiles.”Dinner can wait,” he says as he gestures his hand out to me. I know where this is going, I think to myself. I take his hand and stand. Kevin starts to kiss my neck and I act pleased. He grabs my breast and I squeeze my eyes shut, hating him, hating him for hitting me and beating me to the ground yet I let him do this to me. He takes off my blouse as I think about how much I hate myself and him, and why this happened to me, and why did I stay the first time he hit me. He takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom. The next morning I wake starving and I noticed I never got to eat my dinner last night. I pick up dinner mess and start to make Kevin’s bacon and eggs. Tears start rolling down my face but I keep them back, because Kevin hates it when I cry. He walks in and notices real quick,"Why the hell are you crying?", I think of something real quick to say.“I just don’t want you to leave.” Kevin is leaving tomorrow for one night on a business trip. “It’s just one night, and when I get back how about you do something special for me?” I stand and act joyful. “Okay, you just wait, I have an idea already.” I put my arms around him and kiss him passionately, I pull him back and he smiles and walks out the door. After a full day of work and planning Kevin comes home, I make him dinner, I clean his dinner up, I watch his T.V show, and we go to bed. That morning I act like it’s any other day but it’s not. Today is the day! I’m going to leave him and start a new and better life. I pack his bag with two clean shirts, two clean pairs of dress pants, socks, and underwear. I make him his breakfast and I sit there watching him eat it, thinking it’s the last time that man will eat anything made by me. I gave him his bag, give him a kiss, and he walks out the door. As soon as I see the taxi leave I grab a box of hair dye I hid in a tampon box, because I knew he’d never go near there. I take scissors and cut my hair to my shoulders. While the dye is sitting I grab all the money from beneath the flower pot and grab a pay phone I bought before he picked me up from the hair salon the other week. I rinse my hair, pack granola bars and peanuts in a small bag along with a few tank tops and shorts. I step out the door and look at the bright sun. I ran with my hood up to bus stations, I bought a ticket as far away as I can afford, a small town in North Carolina. I get on the bus in a panic. He will find me and come for me. He’ll kill me and no one will ever know what happened. I think about going home acting like it never happened, but my hair is short and dyed brown. I act confident as I step off the bus into my new life.

Two months later.

I live in a small house and I work at a small diner called Ivan’s. I’m very happy and I have a neighbor who I’m very close with, she’s coming over tonight for wine and cheese. She claims that the man who works the small store likes me. Him and I talk and laugh, I enjoy his company. Tomorrow I am joining him at the beach. When I see him I can’t help but smile and I think I might be falling for him.

Fighting for Family

Author's Note: This is a Compare and Contrast essay on two young boys who had to grow up too early to keep their families alive. 

Michael from the book, Jump Ship to Freedom, reminds me much of Samuel Martin from the movie The Patriot. Michael was the same age as Samuel during the Revolutionary War, and they were both left behind by their father’s to watch over the rest of their families. They were both in charge when their father’s left to fight. Both of them had to grow up very fast and had to learn to handle a gun at an early age.

When Michael’s father left, he was told to take care of his mother and Sam was to take care of his younger siblings. The two of them were told very similar things by their father’s. Michael and Sam both got very used to being in charge and got quite good at it. Even though they gained a lot of maturity quickly, it wasn’t always like that. They both couldn’t wait to see their father again.

One of the few differences about them two is that when Michael’s father left to fight, he never came back. It pained Michael to think he was dead, but it only made him want freedom even more. Michael was given his father’s soldier’s notes after he had passed, and Michael heard they were worth a lot. He worked so hard, his hands began to callus. Michael new his mother and him will soon be free as soon as he gets the money to.

Sam and his younger siblings also had to work hard while his father was in war. Young Sam had to make a living for months. All of the food and safety came from the help of Sam. Their Aunt Charlotte also gave all she could and let them all scrunch into her little house so they could have a place to sleep. Sam spent many nights sitting on the front porch to be sure no one was there that would be harm them.

These two characters also remind me of Prim Everdeen. Prim is a twelve year old girl who’s older sister, Katniss,  was called into The Hunger Games. Katniss has always pretty much been Prim’s mother and father since their father passed away. Their mother became very depressed and started to not care about taking care of her family because of her loss. Because of their mother’s absence, Katniss was like a parent to Prim. When she had to leave, Prim wasn’t sure if she’d ever see her again.

Much like Prim, Michael and Sam both knew it would be a struggle to survive the next few months, but their father’s put them up to the job. Whether they would come back from war or not, they would obey and that’s what they did. In the end of their journeys they both got to feel freedom and what it was like feel safe. They both saved their families from death and that brought both of them great honor. 

Elf (Revised)

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to here!” That is quoted by, in my opinion, the most cheerful elf to live on this planet, Buddy. “Elf”, by David Berenbaum, is about a adult elf who as a baby crawled into Santa’s sack on Christmas night, little did Santa know his sack wasn’t empty and brought baby Buddy back with him to the North Pole. Buddy was raised by an elder elf, he called Papa Elf. Papa Elf raised Buddy to believe he was an elf, he was just a little different.

Buddy believed Papa Elf  and that he was a real elf, but after he found out all his life, everything he thought, was a lie, Papa Elf helped him set out to find his true family that lived in New York, that leads us to our theme. Believe, that is the theme of the story. Throughout the story of Buddy, he faced many people that didn’t believe in Santa Claus or themselves. Most importantly he met his father, Walter Hobbs, who also didn’t believe in the beauty of Christmas and spent most of his time at his job and not with his family. He was on the naughty list. That didn’t stop Buddy, he believed in his father and loved him even if he was on the naughty list.

Buddy soon found out that his father had a son, Michael, and  wife, Emily. Buddy loved Michael, they were brothers. Michael believed Buddy and that he was an elf. Every day they had a fun activity, for example in one scene they go to a mall and jump on the display beds at a mattress store.  While at the mall, buddy got a job at a major Christmas store, called Gimbles. While working there Buddy met the girl of his dreams, Jovie. Michael helped Buddy learn how to make a good impression on Jovie. Later that Thursday, Buddy and Jovie went on a first date to go and explore New York.

New York was much different from the North pole for Buddy. There were no elves, no toy making factories, and not everyone was very kind there. Near the end of the movie Walter then starts to believe in Buddy and that he is indeed a wonderful elf and a great son. Also because Buddy believed in his father so much, Walter finally got his spot on the nice list.

Prediction (Revised)

I have always been into very action pact books, anything else I read it's hard to fall asleep. When estimating an ending to a story I always end up up making it either adventurous or very dramatic. So when I was assigned to assume what was going to happen once he opened the purple jar I couldn't help but think it was going to come out and attack him. In the beginning of the story the author did I good job with making it surprising. I defiantly couldn't tell what was going to happen next. Once it got to the part with the purple gunk in the jar my big imagination took charge and pictured a big purple monster coming out and attacking him to the ground, but just before he can Mr.Mason tells him to stop. I pictured that Mr.Mason was using that as a threat and that if he doesn't stop the inappropriate attitude he wouldn't stop the monster and would let him devour Troy whole. Lastly, once his punishment was all done and over, he'd end up just like Dale, brainwashed forever.

Compare and Contrast

Theme (Elf)

Author's Note: In this piece, I wrote about the theme in the movie "Elf". I focused a lot on my transitions and using different styles of transitions. Please Enjoy.

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to here!” That is quoted by, in my opinion, the most cheerful elf ever to live on this planet, Buddy. “Elf”, by David Berenbaum, is about a adult elf who as a baby crawled into Santa’s sack on Christmas night, little did Santa know his sack wasn’t empty and brought baby Buddy back with him to the North Pole. Buddy was raised by an elder elf, he called Papa Elf. Papa Elf raised Buddy to believe he was an elf, but he was a special elf.

Buddy believed Papa Elf  and that he was a real elf, but after he found out all his life everything he thought was a lie, Papa Elf helped him set out to find his true family that lived in New York, that leads us to our theme. Believe, that is the theme of the story. Throughout the story of Buddy, he faced many people that didn’t believe in Santa Claus or themselves. Most importantly he met his father, Walter Hobbs, who also didn’t believe in the beauty of Christmas and spent most of his time at his job and not with his family. He was on the naughty list. That didn’t stop Buddy, he believed in his father and loved him even if he was on the naughty list. Buddy soon found out that his father had a son, Michael, and  wife, Emily. Buddy loved Michael, they were brothers. Michael believed Buddy and that he was an elf.

Buddy and Michael were best buds, and they were inseparable. Along the way buddy got a job at a major Christmas store, called Gimbles. While working there Buddy met the girl of his dreams, Jovie. Michael helped Buddy learn how to make a good impression on Jovie. Later that Thursday, Buddy and Jovie went on a first date to go and explore New York.

New York was much different from the North pole for Buddy. There were no elves, no toy making factories, and not everyone was very kind there. Near the end of the movie Walter then starts to believe in Buddy and that he is indeed a wonderful elf and a great son. Also, because Buddy believed in his father so much, Walter finally got his spot on the nice list.