Spring has sprung!!!

Welcome back :)

Now that you are rested and getting back into the "spring" of things, your monthly blog has been updated.  We have thirteen pieces this month.  Make sure that you take the time to read all the submissions.  Leave comments for at least five of the pieces.  Your comments are due Monday, March 27th.

Writers,
Watch your blog page and read your comments.  Respond to at least three (although, you can respond to every single one of your comments).  Don't forget to leave comments on two other pieces, as well.  You have until Wednesday, March29th to complete the assignment.

We only have two months left until our school year comes to an end.  Enjoy the blog these last couple of months.

Happy Reading,

Mrs. Solano

La Mer --Jennifer

I don’t know what year it is, what time it is, where I am. All I know is the dark blue hue let in through the windows. I’m always SO hungry now. I haven’t been able to move the mess of skin and teeth under my nose for months now, let alone find proper food to eat. I remember the party I was at before the war broke out and how my life was but now all thoughts are drowned out by my insatiable itch for Adam, the good stuff, my bread and butter. Lucky for me, I don’t have to use my mouth to get it in me. Ain’t nothin better than the feeling of a rusty needle in my arm, satisfying my need. Its funny when my veins glow red. I carry cast iron hooks in my hands, in case a Big One shows up. My size don’t compare to his but I’ve got an itch. I wander the empty promenade looking for one of those little runts in a dress. The floor creaks beneath me and the walls drip from the leaks. I’m SO hungry. Better to find one without a Daddy. Makes it easier for me take her out and take my Adam. I’m spliced up to the point where I can disappear and reappear at a moment’s notice. Saved me a couple times from the Big Ones. I hear one moan in the distance, but no red for me so I keep walkin’. Walkin’ for weeks, my feet are probably bleeding but I’m so numb all over. I got into a couple brawls here and there, I think I even lost a hand but I just stuck a hook into the raw bone. God, I am so hungry. The city is lost by the sea and so is any sense of reality. SO hungry. Wait. What’s that? I hear her sweet voice calling out to me and smell the good stuff. I hear her Daddy but I just want one hit. I appear behind her and slash her back, staining her dress red, and I keep slashing ‘til I hear her Daddy’s footsteps. I run away ‘til I stop hearing his stompin’. I missed the goddamn Adam. All that work for nothin’. That’s what hurts bad. The itch is more painful than I’ve ever felt. I don’t even notice when I look down and see the Daddy’s drill through me, makin’ a mess of my guts.

30 minutes...--Armando

I remember them vividly.

The worst thirty minutes of my life. I awoke looking up at the dark sky, unaware of where I was for a brief moment. Then the pain hit me, I felt a sudden nausea as I scrambled to my feet quickly, only to be pulled down by the weight of my body that I couldn’t seem to support for some odd reason. I hadn’t quite worked out exactly what happened until I saw all 17 of my teammates standing over me as if I was some sort of lifeless corpse. “Well, I must be dead,” I thought, little did I know how real that thought would become in a few hours. I tried to call out to my teammates for help but the words couldn’t escape, just as trapped in my mouth as I felt in my lifeless body. Then suddenly I felt my body being lifted and I assumed I was being called up to heaven. I was a little disappointed and relieved to see my coach carrying me on his shoulders between blackouts. My pride being as big as it is, aided me to say my first words, “put… me… down… I’m… okay.” If I could talk, then surely I could walk I thought, but I was wrong, as soon as my coach put me down, I collapsed once more, unconcious. I awoke in my mother’s car frantically searching for my teammates to tell me what was going on with me, but I figured they informed my mother so I tried my very best to english and ask her. Between panting breaths I asked her, “Mom what happened?” She could only reply with a fake smile on her face saying that I got hit on the head pretty hard, but I could visibly see the worry in her eyes.
Slowly regaining consciousness without blackouts I started to try to move my body around testing if my brain still worked since at this point I knew I had a concussion. Next thing I know I’m at the hospital, but I'm not worried, after all, so many athletes get concussions all the time, what's the worst that could happen, right? Wrong. The coach apparently told my mother to take me to the ER since I blacked out for quite some time after the initial hit to my head. Still, I refused to get worried for the sheer sake of my sanity. About two hours had passed since the initial hit and I thought I should be fine to get out of the car and walk to the front desk myself. As soon as I exited the car EVERY symptom came rushing to me: nausea, poor balance, sleepiness, cloudy vision, fatigue, and the worst headache anyone could ever have. I leaned on my mother all the way to the front door that seemed miles away (it was like 50 feet away) occasionally tripping and losing my balance, nearly falling over. Well, looks like I made it to the front desk finally but now they asked me soooooo many questions. Funny enough, none of this physical pain was part of the worst 30 minutes of my life. Anyways, after finishing their quiz they promptly admitted me for a CT scan despite the people who had been waiting for hours before me. I asked the front desk why I was getting priority and what she told started the worst 30 minutes of my life. “Son, the symptoms you are describing are in line with the most severe concussion someone could have and there is a good chance you have a blood clot in your brain.” I’d like to think that I’m no idiot and I knew exactly what this news meant but I asked anyways, “how bad is that?” She did not beat around the bush on this one, she told me that they might need to perform surgery and that I could die with or without the surgery.
Oh.
I sat outside the CT scan room preparing myself for the machine that would tell me if I live or die. All I could do was sit and cry and I could see my mom trying to be strong for me. I prayed and prayed and cried and sat in the room full of people, yet I still felt alone. Looking back on it, maybe I was overreacting, but to hear that there is a good chance that you might die is pretty rough on the mind. The weeping silence lasted 10 minutes in the waiting room, then I was called in for my scan, I finished quickly, left the room and waited the remaining 20 minutes for the results to say I was going to die.
A flood of relief.

The Italian girl --Lauren

It’s crazy to think how big this world is. Our lives only capture what we see, what we go through, and our perspectives on life. As of 2013, there are about 7.125 billion people on this Earth, which shows how little we are compared to everyone else. I had the chance of meeting a girl from Italy during my senior year of high school, because she came to my school as a foreign exchange student. I had her in my government class, and by just looking at her, I wouldn’t expect her to be from Italy. In the beginning of the first semester, we had not sit close to each other, and I didn't even know her name, but I knew that she was a girl that I had not seen before. I noticed that when we would do presentations, she would not go up, so I therefore assumed she was shy. However, I later learned that she did not want to present in front of the class because she had a thick Italian accent. About 2 months into the school year, we happened to sit right next to each other, and that is when we met. She told me that she was a foreign exchange student and immediately I asked her so many questions about her country, (many of which were probably ridiculous). I was so shocked to think that I met somebody from a different country. Later that day, we exchanged numbers, she ate lunch with us, and met my twin and other friends. From that day on, our friendship flourished and we have become best friends. I have had many friends throughout my young life, however this friendship has been the strongest, and has been nothing but good memories. It’s crazy to think that that you can know someone for less than a year, and be better friends with them, compared to someone who you've known for many years. Meeting my Italian friend has opened my eyes to so many new things and to remember to always live in the moment. This experience has reminded me that we as teenages tend to be comfortable with the group of people that we already hangout with, and therefore most of us do not care to meet new people. However, if I hadn’t introduced myself to the girl, I would have never established a good friendship with her. So many of us also think that the world revolves around just us, and that we are the only people who live on this Earth, but we need to come to the realization every now and then, that there are so many other people from different cultures, backgrounds, and even countries. The Italian girl shared with me so many of her traditions, and shed some light to me about her culture in Italy, which reminded me how close minded we can be sometimes about where other people come from. My Italian friend will soon have to go back to Italy in June, however, I know that we will always be friends in our hearts and souls. This experience will always be something that I will cherish and remember. It is also a reminder to open your eyes and hearts to new experiences, and people, because you never know if something beautiful can happen...

Mommy is sick--Chyanne

It was the summer of 2009. I was 10 years old and I had just finished the 5th grade. Life was great, I was enjoying my summer before entering middle school. My mom and I spent everyday together, we went swimming, we went shopping, and we were inseparable. As the summer progressed, I noticed my mom and I were doing fewer and fewer activities together. Her mood changed; something seemed different, something was wrong. I saw that my mom would grow more and more depressed with each visit to the doctor’s. Then one day, my mom was sitting alone outside on the porch. I went outside to join her and I asked her what was wrong. She looked at me and her face spoke anger and fear; “Mommy is sick,” she replied. Immediately after speaking those three words, she broke into tears. I was only ten years old and I did not know the full extent of the situation, so I replied “It’s okay mommy, you will get better.” The reason that my mom was constantly in the hospital that summer was because the doctors thought that she had breast cancer. I cannot imagine the pain my mom felt having to tell this information to my brother and I, while watching the pain on her childrens’ faces. Yet, she stayed hopeful. Throughout that whole journey my mom promised us that she was going to be strong and get better for us. My mom was at the doctor's office probably 5 days a week getting multiple tests, scans, and biopsies taken. It was exhausting to her both emotionally and physically. When I found this news out, I was extremely terrified and upset. There was no way; not my mom, she couldn't be sick, she was and still is the strongest person I know. The results were not certain yet. Finally, after many tests and doctor's appointments, the results for her came back negative. I remember my mom coming back from the hospital crying, but this time it was different, they were happy tears. When my mom told me she wasn't sick anymore I felt overwhelming comfort. My mom is my best friend. She is my rock, my security blanket. I have always been a mama's girl and until this day, the thought of living without her is still something I can not process, let alone at ten years old. Those three months of my life had to be the absolute worst. During that time, I didn't know how much time I would have left with my mom. My heart ached thinking about the possibilities that could have happened to her. This experience in my life has taught me the importance of cherishing your loved ones and the time you are given. Although we were extremely blessed that the results were negative, I still believe it is very necessary to appreciate your family and not take the time that you are given with them for granted. I try to spend as much time as I can with my mom now, and I always try to tell her how much I love her and appreciate her.

True Colors--Alison

Messy hair, unironed shirt, and I reek of coffee. I am late to work again and I pray that there is a parking spot left. Once I pull in I am surrounded by cars nicer than mine which gives me motivation for this Monday morning. My ego has grown since working here, being the number one sales person at this car dealership. I sneak into my office and run into Jarred, my boss, and he greets me with a pretentious attitude saying something about how I shouldn’t always be late and complaining about this homeless man that’s loitering out front. “I’ll go deal with the man”, I say animatedly because this gives me a reason to get away from him. Rushing out of the office I see what he’s talking about, the man sticks out like a sore thumb. Gently approaching him I ask how I can help him and he’s caught off guard. “I’ve been waiting around for an hour and no one has approached me yet”, he said. We started conversing about the different cars and at first I don’t take this him seriously but why not give him a chance? Finally he asks to test drive one of our most expensive cars, I become a little reluctant but then think that maybe he won’t get a chance to ever drive something so luxurious because of his lower lifestyle. Once I hand him the keys his eyes get so big, they look like they’re going to pop out. “What are you waiting for get in already”, I tell him as I enter the passenger seat, “Lets just take it around the block and bring it back before my boss notices.” The whole car ride is silent except for the directions I give him. Once we get back Jarred is furious. I get out of the car and Jarred starts yelling at me saying that I should have never let this lowlife drive the car without his permission and that I was about to lose my job, he storms off right now. I turn to the homeless man and begin to apologize when he pulls out a stack of cash. “I’ll take it”, he says looking over at the car. At this point my head is spinning and i’m waiting to wake up from my nightmare so I close my eyes for a few seconds but once I open them the man is still there, hand extended to me with the money. “Well alright then”, I say very confused. As we sit to fill out the paperwork I can’t hold it in any longer and I ask “How can you afford this anyways?” He gives me small smile and says,”My name is Andrew Reed and i’m actually a very successful businessman but I rather not show off. I prefer when people show their true colors around me and when you dress as if you have nothing it really weeds out the shallow people.”

Fixation--Jordan

One, two, three, four, five. I have five chapsticks. But I had six. I checked my backpack already, I’ll have to check again. It's not there. I know I had six. Maybe I left it in the cupholder of my car. I’ll go check. Darn… I found one there, but not the one I was looking for. I know I should just let it go. I have six chapsticks now, that's more than enough. It’s a Saturday. I should be resting. I crawl back into bed and unlock my phone. It’s raining outside. The smell of cinnamon fills my house from all the candles my mom loves to light in the fall. Where did I put my carmex chapstick? I know I had it at school yesterday. I used it in third period and put it back in my bag. But it's not in my bag, I checked twice. I should check again. It’s not in there. I used it in third period and put it back in my bag. It could have rolled under the seat of my car. I’ll go check. It’s not there, but it’s okay. I go back inside and back to bed. Actually, it's not okay, but I know it should be but I don't care. I used it in third period and put it back in my bag. Did I zip up the outer pocket after I put it back? I don’t think I did. Okay, so it fell out of my bag. That's okay. I know where it is and that's what matters, right? I know where the chapstick is. It's in one of my classes. Maybe I should email my teachers and ask. How would I word that? “Hi Miss Landy, I’m sorry to bother you on your weekend but I was wondering if you happened to notice a chapstick on the floor yesterday? I think I dropped it.” No, that's not something normal people do. I’ll just wait until Monday. I can wait until Monday. Which chapstick do i use until then? The carmex one was almost gone, and I wanted to use all of that up before I started a new one. Maybe I have one here that I’ve already used. I do. I apply that one to my lips and lie back down. I sit back up to count again. One, two, three, four, five, six. But I had seven. I can’t believe I forgot to zip up my bag, I never forget. Maybe I didn’t forget, and a friend borrowed it. I wonder how many friends have borrowed my chapstick. I hate when they do that. I love them, but how do I explain to them than even after I scrape off the top I can’t stop thinking about their lips and their germs all over my chapstick… but that doesn’t matter, I need to find my chapstick. The sun goes down, and I’ve wasted yet another day.

Water-- Kierra

After a lengthy summer day of volunteering at the local senior citizens home, I was exhausted and collapsed as soon as I got home. When I woke up again, there was not a single ounce of daylight left. I checked the time and my watch read 9:43 pm, which made me extremely nervous, considering that my mom said she wanted the dishes washed by the time she got home at 10pm. So, I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to complete what was asked of me. I grabbed a dish towel, I grabbed the dish detergent and placed all the dishes in the sink. Keep in mind, we just got the kitchen remodeled so I wasn’t too familiar on how to use many things, including the fancy faucet. Just as I go to turn the water on, the knob comes flying in my direction with water flowing every way possible. Now, not only am I nervous about finishing the dishes by 10pm, but there’s an even bigger problem on my hands. As I frantically began to look for objects to hold the massive water flow, a loud rumbling sound came over me from the garage. At that point, I completely lost it. I had tried everything from continuously turning on the garbage disposal in order to flush out the water to filling up thousands of coffee mugs and wine glasses. I was so nervous, I was literally drowning in my own thoughts regarding the way my mom would react. In that very moment, every bit of time mattered and every door that would be opened and closed by my mom haunted me. The first one was the closing of the garage door. Before I knew it, there was only one door left and I had circled the kitchen a million times already without a solution. Then, the final door that connects the laundry room to the hallway closed shut. I suddenly woke up with a deep sigh, thanking God that the aforementioned content didn’t actually occur.

The Strain--Francis

January 3, 2017 18:03
(Jan and Lucy both sit down in front of both officers)
(Officer Quintana picks up a duffel bag, placing it on the table.)
 “10 pounds.”
“That I’m not sharing.”
 (Jan slowly turns his head)
 “You’re serious?”
“Buddy, that’s Purple Haze.”
 “Lucy!”
“What?! It’s hard to come by!”
 “Lucy!”
“What?!”
(Jan and Lucy continue to argue, while both officers turn their heads to one another, unclear of what to do. Officer Terrazaz checks the bag)
 “Is it actually Purple Haze?”
“You want to check?”
 (Both officers look back at the arguing couple)
 “Oh I’m the one that got us into this mess?!
Who had the car with 10 pounds of kush?!”
“Who put it in the car?!”
(While the pair continues to argue, both officers peek into the bag, rubbing their fingers on the bags of marijuana then intensely sniffing it)
 “Smells like Blue Dream.”
“You sure? Smell it again.”
(While arguing, Lucy heard the officers’ conversation. Concerned, she turns back to face both officers)
 “Wait, are you sure?”
 (Taking the marijuana out of the bag then continuing to sniff it) “Yeah dude.”
“No way.”
(Hurriedly, Lucy gets out of her chair, grabbing the bag out of the officer’s hand, then furiously sniffing the marijuana)
“Oh good God.”
 (Lucy continues to sniff the rest of the bags of marijuana, while the other 3 watch)
 “Umm… shouldn’t you two be doing something about this?”
 “Like, smoke it?”
 “No, dude…”
 “Oh… sorry.”
(Jan taps Lucy, getting her attention and making her sit back down)
 “So, could you tell me where you got all this marijuana?”
“Easy, my dealer, the same guy you saw put it in both cars, which we did not know he did. You both clearly saw what he did before he ran off.”
 “If you’re stating you were innocent, then why did you decide keep this bag to yourself?”
 “You know, to be honest, I thought it’d be funny.”
(Both officers look confused, looking at Jan, hoping for a response, only for Jan to shrug and shake his head)
 “Her dealer also happens to be her boyfriend.”
“Ah ah ah, ‘happened’, to be my boyfriend.” “Oh yeah, that’s right.”
(Officer Terrazaz takes out a small notebook, ready to write as Officer Quintana questions them)
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yeah, Ezra’s in the Caelum Apartments near Argentum Boulevard, probably packaging with friends.”
 (Both officers nod at one another, rising from their chairs and opening the door for the pair)
 “That’s it?”
“Yes it is... you want to come watch us arrest your friend?”
 January 3, 2017 18:23
(Six men are being arrested and put into the backs of the police cars)
“I’ll remember your face kid! Don’t forget that!”
“Well… yeah! We’re cousins!”
(As they watch the car, drive away, Lucy turns to the officers)
 “So, we keep the kush, right?”
(Both officers shake their heads)
 “Oh… you guys want to smoke then?”
 (Both officers agree, Jan shrugging)
 “Sure, why not?”

An Angel And Angel--Blanca

Light skin, curly hair. Her straight A’s can get here anywhere. Lungs clear from the toxins that kids take in. No sin the light shines from her pearly whites. Everything she does is right. With a future so bright. Senior year valedictorian has the best past like the perfect historian. Then comes a boy who is darker than night. Opposites attract so you know it’s only right. Left hand grabs life by the throat, 16’s are the only things he wrote. Expelled for throwing up signs, slanging drugs, and making words rhyme. See he cared about money so school was a waste of time. He loves gold and her heart was no difference would go far enough to catch his fourth offense. So two weeks later he hops a fence to spot a genius on the roof. Standing on the edge of glory one slip and she would see the maker and all that's holy. Took lives but this time he was afraid, that if she jumps she will die. While she thinks if she jumps she will fly. A shout “NO DON’T DO IT” comes from underneath as the cool Friday breeze flows across her face. The quickest pace he steps away from the shade into her light. Not only saving him time, but saving her life. The next morning she is mourning in his arms. Everyone scratching their head the biggest future fell for the biggest past. Everyone saying they wouldn't last because the tattoos are permanent. Oh how they were wrong everywhere she went he would string along. Parents didn't agree but they never said no. If it wasn't for the boy the daughter would be a no show. They would be talking if they wanted the casket open or closed, but because of him no one knows. From killing beats to track meets to night of survival to studying the bible he was a changed man. Went from selling grams to selfies on her Instagram. Started wearing colors more and his hair was combed when he went to her house the parents said welcome home. College was never an option, but he worked day and night so he can sweeten up his Sugar Baby. Everything is amazing, All his old homies bag on him for him taking on his new life. Prom is around the corner and he goes to see his queen try on dresses, every time she puts one on she impresses. He grabs, he kisses her, and hugs her tight. See the diamond crown never looks right because the gold in her is too bright. When all is over they go and get a bite. There is a taco stand two streets down a right. When they are eating a flash of lights goes off from a sawed off and one body falls. The boy who had nothing and the girl who had it all. An angel went to heaven and Angel stands weak and sees his angel fall.

Two more days--Erika

                  May 23, 2015 was a day that change my life. You were gone…or so I thought. I received a text message that night saying that you had died of a heart attack. Two days later, I learned that you were in the middle of a softball game when you collapsed from a brain aneurysm. You were rushed to a nearby hospital where you were put on life support. I had two more days to see you. Two more days to thank you for being my friend. Two more days to express my deepest condolences to your family. Most importantly, I had two more days to say goodbye, but I did not know. Fifteen at the time, I had no idea how to react. I had never lost anyone so close to me before. I held my feelings in because I felt it was vital to stay strong for her parents and family. I felt it was important to show her younger sister, Mia, that it was going to be alright. Mia gained twenty more older sisters from this tragedy, but none who could replace her own. I could not hold it in anymore, I broke down after hugging her mom. Knowing that she had unexpectedly lost one of her children brought an unthinkable pain. Our prayers and her fighting fell short. I unwillingly shut down that day and the emotions I held in inevitably took over. I endured a feeling of emptiness for several months. However, I found some closer during her candlelight vigil. Several of her former teammates told stories of her quirky habits, including taking a handful of dirt and putting it into her pocket whenever she played in the outfield. Her parents also shared an outpour of love and appreciation toward the support they were given. As her father said, “We will feel pain and emptiness…but we won’t have to feel it alone.” A pastor at Crosspointe Community Church also spoke by saying, “It was a tragedy; however, it was also something we can celebrate because she was doing something that she loved, playing the beautiful game of softball.” I have found that I think about her very often. Whether it be during silent reading or the middle of an important softball game, she fills my thoughts. My softball ribbon inscribed with her name, number (21), and a brain aneurysm symbol reminds me of why I play. It reminds me to work as hard as I can, but enjoy the game like she did. I learned a lot from this tragic event. I know to play every game to the best of my ability. I proudly wear my ribbon and tell those who ask how important it is to me. I tell then what an inspirational and bright person she was. I am thankful for my family and what they do to support me. She taught me to stay optimistic and dedicated. Most importantly, I learned to appreciate everything I have for I may only have two more days.

ASKING FOR A FRIEND--Leezeth

 It’s hard living when you killed yourself. Each day I stare at the crumpled papers pinned up above the T.V. The T.V. of which you’d watch me play video games. You would always rest your cute brunette head on my chest, grasping your phone, probably on social media. I'd tell you social media is pointless. You’d smile and I’d look at you and grin but only short enough so I wouldn’t be distracted from my Xbox. I wished I looked at you longer. You had a smile that was so genuine and sincere, you seemed to love sharing it with the world. I’d watch you jump into your group of acquaintances with that smile. I knew it’d make them happy, or at the least, it made me happy. You expressed this infinite brightness that made you glow, attracting so many people. You always knew so many, it never failed to amaze me. I'd walk you home and you'd always be greeting someone new, someone I’ve never seen before. But that would be no surprise since I was rather quiet and reserved, and a little more so before I met your radiance. You told me you loved my silence because whenever I did talk it was always so intellectual, mind consuming, and significant. Nevertheless you shared pieces of you which was usually kept to yourself. It was darker yet truthful and inspiring. You spoke of society and its ignorance, and how upsetting it is that serious topics like depression and suicide are just memes and jokes on twitter nowadays. One day, you talked about a person you knew who contemplated depression and death but was so unsure of himself because it was the “norm”. You said that your friend didn't want to see a doctor because “every teenager has suicidal thoughts,” and that it was “normal to want to kill yourself.” You told me that he didn't want to seek help because he didn't think he needed it. I looked at you. You were balancing on the sidewalk, smiling at the ground. I asked, “Are you concerned for him?” You stopped, looked up at me with a one-sided smile and said “He already killed himself.” I apologized and you said it was okay because it wasn't my fault or yours or his, it was society's. You said that maybe if we didn't make jokes about being depressed or jokes about killing ourselves so nonchalantly things would be different. Maybe if people understood that clinical depression does exist and not in people who stress over a night of homework. I agreed that wanting to kill yourself should never be a trend. It was always difficult for me to tell whether someone was serious about wanting to die or if they were just upset. Maybe they were serious; I couldn't understand or relate to it. You mentioned something about how I appreciated life and what it gave me, which was you so of course I did. I stared at you, you smiled, I smiled back and you said you loved me so we don't need to worry about a thing. Your silver smile twitched. Now, I stare at the ground, with flowers in one hand, the notebook pages in the other. I sit on the grass, the engraved stone taunting me. I look down at the pages and read them. Your beautiful handwriting is scratched against the pages and I hear your voice in the words. The words keep apologizing and I know your voice is shaking. I knew things happened before I met you but you said that you were okay and very happy now. I should’ve saw through it all. Tears were streaming down my face as I glance over the last line: “I was the friend, I'm sorry.”

Piece of Mind--Jada

I am not fearful of spiders, snakes, tight places, germs, heights, or needles. I am not fearful of any common phobias that cause distress amongst most normal human beings. I am not even fearful of death. What I do fear is the simplicity of life. I feel like my whole world is melting at the simple thought of failure and I think so far into the future that I let it drag me down. It's quite weird how I can overthink myself so deep into what is yet to come. From the second I wake up before I can even open my eyes my brain is already on its second thought. Even with my eyes fully shut as I fall asleep my mind continues going back and forth with itself. My mind begins overwhelming as I think of everything I have yet to accomplish. It all piles up higher and higher creating crystal clear images of vast emptiness the more I think. My thoughts continue fighting a war amongst themselves, but there is one thought that holds the highest power. Who am I? What do I do that makes me, me? All my focus zooms in on how much I really do not know how to do anything, at all. I do not even really know myself. I mean sure I am my own person, but I can not particularly define myself, I’m just a “blob” of whatever I am. I do not have many talents or skills. I mean sure I can read a book, do my homework, follow directions, and get good grades, but everyone can do that if they wanted to. I guess I can also draw if you consider stick figures a talent. But how can these things possibly define who I am? The question still remains, what can I really do? My mind is like an ocean, as I start out relaxing in the shallows only to find myself swept under and rolling deep beneath the unbreakable force of a wave, fighting to come up for air only to be swallowed back in. The questions flood my mind running back and forth all day long, one question after another, an infinite series of thoughts that never end. One thought I tend to forget and that rarely crosses my mind's path is the simple fact that no one knows what they’re doing. Everyone is going through trial and error, and that is the simplistic fairness of it all. You just learn as it happens. Despite all the negativity, all it takes is another five minutes of me telling myself that I can do it all, and I'm suddenly over thinking myself (yet again) into success. I can feel every inch of my body warm up like someone lit a fire underneath me as I think of everything I plan to do in life. My thoughts find their way back to the surface and I have suddenly found my way back to shore. I think I just think too much.

The Alley--Farheen

My siblings and I always love going on little trips together. Today we decided to visit Santa Monica. We spend the day at the beach and then tour the nearby streets and visit the tiny shops that contain the thrifty antique decorations. Time flies and before we know it, it’s 10:00 pm. It’s getting late so we decide to head home. Of course to our luck, our phones don’t have any signal so we are not able to pull up the GPS to get directions to go back home. However, my oldest brother, the one driving thinks he remembers the way back to the freeway. Thirty minutes pass by and we are still driving around the streets and alleys of Santa Monica; my brother not able to find his way. We enter this alley, still lost, that is basically pitch black. I notice this old lady walking her dog a few hundred feet ahead of us. One of the my brothers suggest that we ask the old lady for directions, but I disagree. The fact that an old lady is walking her dog in an alley at 11:00pm is nothing but sketchy. My oldest brother explains that we have no choice but to ask her for directions. He has a point, especially considering the fact that we’ve been lost for an hour. So we are driving closer and closer to the lady and to what looks like a golden retriever. As we are arriving closer I am slightly becoming more nervous. My oldest brother stops the car next to her, roles down the window and says “Excuse me!” The lady stops and glares at us. My brother politely explains to the women that we are lost and asks if she could just give us directions back to the freeway. The lady isn’t saying anything. She just keeps staring at us. My brothers and I are all confused at this point. My oldest brother repeats the question. Again the lady is standing still and staring at all of us. I look up at her face and notice that her eyes are glowing and all I see are white orbs. I look at the dog and notice that the old lady is not the only one with glowing orbs. The dog's eyes are glowing too! I don’t know if they’re glowing because of our headlights shining on her or if they’re glowing for some other odd reason. At this point I am freaking out. Who knows what the lady has in her pockets or what she is thinking. As my brother is still trying to get an answer from her, I am yelling at him to press on the gas. After constant yelling at my brother, he finally slams on the gas and we swerve around the lady and her dog and drive away from them. Before we turn out of the alley I look behind me still see the old lady standing at the same place watching our car...