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.