Friday, February 13. 2009
Thanks to your quick-write activity today, you’ve already finished three paragraphs of “narration” about what you think could have happened if you had made a different choice during a critical part of your life. That means you have three paragraphs’ worth of details – but you don’t have a story that makes them come to life.
What I’d like from you this week is at least three paragraphs of narrative. Tell me a story – a story from that life you didn’t lead!
You aren’t writing me a poem. You’re writing me a story! You’re a character in this story. Your story revolves around some incident that only occurred – a big incident, a small incident, whatever you want it to be – because you made a different choice.
You can use the writing techniques we've learned during the poetry unit even while you're writing stories.
- Make sure your writing uses images – words, phrases, and sentences that engage our five senses.
- Pay attention to your tone. How do you want me to feel after reading this?
- Pay special attention to your vocabulary – the connotation and denotation of words.
- If you want to get really fancy, you can even work alliteration/assonance/consonance into your writing!
Now, this is a fictional story. That means you have to make me believe it. Your details should allow me to put myself in your shoes – to sense what you sense, to feel the emotions you feel, and so on.
This story, like your quick-write, should be at least three five-sentence paragraphs long; if the Muses move you (and you feel it makes for a better story), I encourage you to write more. Just make sure your work is well-written and well-edited before you post - you're the author, and your name is attached!
This post is due by 11:59pm on Monday, February 16th. You are also required to write a four-sentence (minimum) response to at least two of your classmates' stories. (Your post will not be graded unless you provide feedback!) Make sure your comments are legitimate responses to your classmates' work, and try to reply to the feedback others leave on your story! For an example of how to leave feedback, go here: Senior Blog: Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands
I wish you the best of luck, and welcome you to the blog's second semester of life!
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Today was one of the first weeks of school; I had just graduated from Kindergarten and had gone into the first grade. We were beginning an awesome activity to express ourselves by choosing a creature to draw and pasting it on the Blue Wall. My choices varied largely but I had narrowed them down to two, a dog and an armadillo. I pondered for about 20 minutes, thinking of all the pros and cons of each choice. "Hmm... Da doggy ist easior annd da ahmadiyoe is GREAT!" I said this over and over again around my friends; we were all sitting together surrounding a large smooth table. The loud voices of everyone, urging me to choose one or the other, were drowned out by my concentration. My finger wavered back and forth between the two, I was still unsure. Then an elbow bumped me and my finger fell upon the dog, this creature—animal would be my choice.
I drew the canine fiercely with my ‘mutilated’ pencil while also keeping track of the other students’ completions. “The fur—the fur is easy, all I have to do is outline it,” I more simply thought. I finished within a few minutes and ran up to paste it on the Blue Wall. “I am sho sho guud,” I said proudly. Everyone gasped and admired my profound drawing, I was awesome. Soon after, we were assigned to sit and I looked back at the armadillo, would this one have been more fun? I thought hard and attempted to predict the future of this…path and decided it was too hard due to the ‘scales’’ rounded patterns.
Soon time continued forward and I was now in the ninth grade. My grades were only of a series of A’s and I was a hard-core student, I had become exceedingly intelligent—scholastically. My drawings had turned into a dull, simple form of lines and circles and I now favored Math. (Ugh…) My mind had changed into a large mass of numbers and calculated predictions which classified me as a nerd.
I had class to attend to now and I would continue on through my life, leaving my imagination and joy with my F’s. I had emerged out of the river of life with only one mere gash.
Gah.....The second and third paragraphs were merged....kind of.
The third paragraph begins with "Soon time continued...."
Good word choice and description. Punctuation was right on the dot. The baby talk was funny and cute, a little hard to understand, however. I don't get what the incident in kindergarden has to do with your last paragraph though.
I knew that I should have stopped my sister from dating that boy she met on the internet. When she told me she was a dating a guy who she met in a chat room, my heart started to thump a little faster and my fingers twitched uncontrollably. As my toes were grinding into the pink carpet in her room, my mind was racing of whether or not I should tell her to stop dating him. In the end I ignored my thoughts, and I ended up saying nothing. Little did I know this would turn into something more serious.
I felt happy because she was happy. I could tell by the way the edges of her pink lips would curve upwards every time she looked at the glass screen of the computer. When my parents weren’t home she would invite her boyfriend and his brother over to our house. In my heart I knew this was a bad idea, but I didn’t want to strip her of that happiness. On the day of my birthday, my mom was in the kitchen when all of a sudden we heard a loud thwack on the kitchen window. My mom and sister both ignored the sound and we all left the house in a happy state. During the day my dad got a call from the alarm company and they said that our alarm went off. The police had caught the culprits in the park across our street. There were four boys involved in the act. One of them was my sister’s boyfriend and the other one was his brother. The other two thieves were students that attended Arcadia High School.
I remember so clearly of the black videotape case that used to be flowing with cash that my mom worked so hard to save up. When I kneeled down to open the marble drawer, I could feel the pulse running through my fingers. What I found in that drawer was an empty black videotape case. I would’ve given anything to fill up that black videotape case again. As I held the black case in my cold hands, I couldn’t help but think back to the time when my toes were digging into the pink carpet and what I could have done to stop their relationship from going any further. Not only did they steal our money, but they caused something even bigger to happen. That incident tore my family apart like it was a pathetic piece of tissue. Like everyone says that you should forgive and forget, till this day I have not forgiven myself and not in a million years will I ever forgive myself either.
That was a really interesting story, and it made me really feel your pain and what you were feeling/thinking. I like the way you started it and you were really descriptive with everything, with imagery that I could totally see in my head while I was reading. It was well-written and interesting because it made me just want to keep reading. But it's heartbreaking how everything turned out to be though, because of just one mistake that your sister made. And I don't think you should blame yourself, because you didn't know any better. Other than that, the story came together really nicely with a conclusion that wrapped it up.
P.S. - Is this story real? Or is this made up of what would have happened if you didn't stop her...
I'm confused what Feraco wants us to do.
Great story and use of imagination. Very descriptive and fun to read. I could imagine what was happening as you wrote it. I was hoping something for a worse consequence to her actions, though.
I think that was an amazing story. You really put yourself in a relateable and believable position. At first I actually thought it was real and only remembered its false nature after I read the other comment. I really enjoyed the story.
One month ago, there was a guitar that was in my cubby in the band room. It was a beautiful Yamaha acoustic guitar. It was just lying there, and no one claimed it. Every day for a month, I checked to see if anyone had taken it. No one did. Since it was in a cubby in the band room, I thought it might have belonged to a band member, but when I asked around to see who it belonged to, no one could say. Everybody just said it’s just been there. I thought about taking it to band director, but then I thought, no one cares about it. I’ll just take it.
It came in a generic black carrying case that had a thin layer of dust. It would have been obvious that I had taken it from somewhere that I wasn’t supposed to have gotten it from, so I dusted it off and wrote my name over the Yamaha logo. 15 minutes after everyone had vacated the area; I quickly and smoothly grabbed the guitar, and walked nonchalantly down my usual path all the way home. The second I got home, I took it out and noticed how it was a dreadnought that has barely been played. After rummaging through the other person’s belongings, I found some picks and a tuner. Recklessly, I tuned the guitar until it was about 1/8 a step off, shrugged, and said “it’s good enough.” One chord, just one sole chord was strummed. That one, dissonant, chord just echoed and I, the only listener, the only one who even knew that I was now in possession of an acoustic guitar, felt a sharp pain of guilt.
I then laughed and thought of all the other lies that I’ve spoken, and all the cruelty I have already done by backstabbing friends to feed my personal vengeance. This guitar can’t make things worse than they already are, so I might as well enjoy it. I started looking at the whole situation from a different point of view. I have gained, and no one had lost anything. Is it wrong to take that which does not belong to anyone else? The person had left it like trash. Clearly they didn’t want it anymore. But then again, what would I have cared? I could have killed someone and not felt a bit of remorse. I have gained, and that’s all that matters.
Later that night, my parents asked me where I got the guitar, and I said that it was my friend’s who had to move to Chino Hills. I haven’t lied about anything this big before, so they had no reason to believe that I was now a thief. However, my brother was much more antagonistic, until I told him that he could use it too. There was no opposition to my acquisition of an acoustic guitar, and I had gotten away with it with not a scratch on me; not emotionally, nor physically.
I tried to tab and press enter and that made me accidentally submit my post. Here's the rest of it.
I got comfortable with being a thief. After the initial pain, I could lie and steal all I wanted and not feel anything at all, except of course, a feeling of gain. Naturally, since I stole a $200 guitar, I felt that books were okay. My reasoning was “I’ve stolen a guitar; books aren’t going to make a difference. And look, I haven’t even been caught for the guitar yet.” Two days ago, I began stealing from my dad’s wallet, and my mom’s purse. Yesterday, I stole from my best friend. And I don’t think I will be stopping anytime soon. So it goes.
To Justin K. (post number 1)
That's an interesting story because it focused on a relatively small choice made when you were young. It ended up amplifying to many times its original impact as you grew. It was a very interesting view.
To Tiffany S. (post number 2)
Your descriptions of what you felt had a feel to it that made me believe that it could have happened. Nice job, it was very convincing.
It was a very interesting story. I was laughing while I was reading it. It was well narrated, but the only thing I have to say is DON"T BECOME A THIEF!
Wow Kahao. That story seemed too true to be fictional. I can see why you would have wanted to take the guitar. You used great sensory words that appealed to the senses. Was in the Arcadia band room or FMS band room?? Anyways, you should go back and check if it's still there or not.
Nice story Kahao! I really enjoyed reading it and for a second I even forgot that it was fictional. It was very descriptive and seemed like a real life choice that a person would have to make. I liked the way you put your actions into words that we can picture and how you told us of your feelings. This story was one of the more realistic blogs that i have read.
Your story was great, Kahao. I really loved how you took the time to write more, so that your tale would be more complete and detailed. The way you portrayed yourself in your narrative was slightly malicious; I enjoy reading works that reveal the darker sides in human beings. Great job!
What I have seen throughout practically my school life is, everybody just wants to fit in. Socially, academically, or maybe even in a physical state. From what I've observed most students doesn't want to be the one person that everyone will come to hate. Since I came to AHS I've seen more personalities in one classroom that I have in my entire middle school, everybody's different. As I was growing up, I was taught to study hard, be polite, and do the best of my ability.
My sister and I did as we were taught, but each of our results came out differently. She had better grades than I had even though she took honor classes when she was my age. I mean yes, my parents were proud of me even though I got A's, B's, and C's, they consider those as not failing grades but they put it, "We didn't think you could get these kinds of grades, compared on how you did in elementary school." To me, it didnt matter, I was doing my best and the world seemed to keep on turning. But then one day, I've notice that some of my friends are not like me at all. When someone got a B+ or even an A- on an assignment, they would start freaking out and go to the library on weekdays even though it was a Saturday! Others wouldn't bother to even do the assignment and get an F while moving on with their life.
I stopped and wondered to think about why do some students would study their butts off to get that decent A on their next assignment or why do others just don't even try to do their work and just accept that they got an F, but still remained content, this puzzled me so. Little did I know, one day in 8th grade, I had massive homework from one class that I didn't particularly like. That same day, my cousin was coming to visit my family for one day to take us out for dinner. I had a decision, to either do my massive constructive hard homework for a class that I didn't really care for and assuming that, that one assignment wasn't really going to benefit me in any way OR go out with my favorite cousin that I haven't seen in a long time to just have plain old fun. The choice was obvious. I left my assignment untouched in my backpack while my family and I went to meet my cousin at the restaurant.
The following day, karma I guess wanted to play a little trick on me by telling my teacher that our homework was actually going to be notes for the pop quiz the next day. No matter how much I would LOVE to deny it, I plainly failed that test. Did I forget to mention that, that one little pop quiz was almost worth 30 PERCENT of our overall grade for the trimester? Well, when I received my report card in the mail, my reaction was, well... not handled well. It was a sensation I've never felt before. My palms were sweating, my head was spinning, and a high pitched sound that came out of me that I had never knew I could reach. After an hour of practical mental breakdown and tears streaming down my face, I've come to realize that I shouldn't hold off work until the last minute, no matter how big or small it is. As well as avoiding to disturb your neighbors with your annoying screaming during the middle of the day.
Lexy, I agree absolutely with your opening statement. I like how you mentioned the different aspects of “fitting in,” because I don’t believe that it has just one definition. I’ve had my fill of laziness and procrastination; neglecting work never really seems to work out for either of us. I like how you incorporated karma into your story and ended with a humorous twist! Good job!
Lexy, I liked your story a lot. It reminded me of myself, a lazy person. It's obvious that homework comes first, but personally, I would prefer it more if it didn't.
To Kahao's story:
I can honestly say that I can totally imagine you just staring at that guitar everyday with a grin on your face wanting to take it like a vulture's eyes locked on to its prey. You better watch out because now everyone will know that you "stole" that guitar. (Also, be on the look out for the rightful owner of it too. He/she might break into your house to steal it back)
To Tiffany's story:
I thought that your story was well described and put together very nicely. You expressed and described your feelings on a level i've rarely seen and just kept me to want to read more and more.
That's an intersting point of view. I could vividly imagine your nervousness toward stealing and your relief when you had successfully lied to your parents. Also, the way your attitude changed after your stole the guitar expresses the corruption of a single bad deed. It's nice to see a drastic change to the mind after a simple choice.
(Your story makes me reflect upon certain thoughts which crossed my mind before. It shows how dramatically reactive everyone is to a single letter. (Honestly, grades are like money, they only represent what you've learned so far. It's a method of being found yet in the years it has been narrowed down as the ONLY way of being accepted in society.) Also, the goal of every student should be to NOT be accepted. Negative events in your life help you grow into a better person, that is, if you don't get crushed by them. .)
The way you expressed your overall guilt and worry amused me because it's actually a 'normal' happening. Many people, I really do mean 'many', shriek after seeing their grade. I commend how you described your worries after seeing your report card. Sweating palms, do palms really sweat?
Well, today’s Friday the 23rd of January, the day of movie night. I’m excited; all my friends from orchestra are going especially my “Grandma”. I’m hoping she’s going to introduce me to her friend whom I have been dying to meet but that’s an unlikely story, but I’ll stalk her if I have to in order to find him. All everyone has been asking me all day was, “Are you going to movie night?” OF COURSE, what am I, stupid? I’m not spending the day with my brother and the TV again if I have a chance to leave and do something else like spend five hours with friends. Finally a break from this butt load of homework that my teachers assign to me which I don’t have to worry until tomorrow. School let out and as usual, I started walking home.
Couple of hours passed and I headed toward school again. It was raining bricks so I was soaked from head to toe. Perfect. I soon found my Grandma with someone I didn’t know. So this must be the one I had my head spinning 24/7 everyday since summer. I found myself watching “Iron Man” with them but we didn’t actually pay attention to the movie since we already saw it. We sat on the carpet which was stained with the food in a crowded room packed with most of the class. Guess no one wanted to watch “Mamma Mia”.
All I can say about him was that he ate like there was no tomorrow and kept going even when he was full. Maybe he saw my face, full of shock and disgust but entertained at the same time, but he found that somehow hilarious and his laughter roared throughout the room and drowned out everyone’s voice. My Grandma was enjoying herself, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I bet she had the time of her life with her grandchild and her friend whacking each other with a piece of candy and finding it enjoyable.
I managed to kill the whole night there. It was late, everyone started leaving so I walked back home. Tonight was crazy. I still imagine myself there with my Grandma and him still whacking each other. I knew going to movie would be the best thing happening in high school this year and I didn’t have to spend it with a TV and my brother who does absolutely nothing.
Just imagining myself in your shoes, I would have a nervous breakdown. I can say that when I want something, I would watch it like a hawk too if it were anywhere close by me. You never know who it belongs to. Great describtions of how it feels though.
I can relate myself to your story. Everyone just freaks out about grades especially in high school. This affects your future that is, if you want to be successful. But you'll have more chances to make up those grades.
It was about the second week of my friend and me volunteering at a school for service hours. There were grades there varying from preschool to third grade. (We decided to help out in the classroom with preschoolers.) Story time had just finished, so we had some free time (but we couldn't be too loud). So, the both of us decided to write our thoughts on paper and pass notes, and our best subject was a horribly dressed nine year old girl, who attended a different grade down the hall.
I thought to myself, "This is a bad idea, what if someone sees what we are writing. Maybe I should tell my friend to stop." I ignored my conscience and continued, I mean what harm can it really do if we throw it out afterwards? We continued nonchalantly, criticizing the girl's Las Vegas fanny pack, sparkly black socks, and her shirt that was two sizes too small for her. We did all of this while giggling quietly under our breath. And while walking out of the classroom to supervise the kids during recess, we tossed the note in the trash can without even second guessing our actions and words.
Later on in the day, after we had completely forgotten our actions, we got called into the director's office. We walked in with dumbfounded faces, because we had no idea as to why we would be called into the office. What could we have done that was so horrible? Then, she held out the note! All that went through my head was the dreaded punishment for being so cruel. That afternoon, my mom found out, when she received a phone call asking if she knew about any of this. The next day my friend and I apologized for the note, and then we both were grounded later that day. All I could wish for was to be able to go back in time to stop my friend from ever writing that note, and to stop me from ever going along with it.
To Tiffany S.:
I thought yours was really well written. I felt it expressed the feelings someone would feel in a moment like that extremely well. (Not to mention of course the descriptive detail, for example your sister's pink lips curving upwards. Also, I like the way you phrased the second to last sentence of the third paragraph.)
To Kahao L.:
I thought you told the story well. The description of the guitar and dust around it was great. The way you talked about how you asked every day, and finally took it was good too. But, I thought the best part was how you wrote about how when you strummed the guitar, you felt the guilt.
About two years ago, my sister was meeting guys online. I thought it was perfectly normal, and it wasn't unsafe because nothing ever happened to her. Although my sister is the type of people who won't listen until they have experienced it, I should've stopped it. When she told me she started like an older guy from Nevada, I started thinking it was weird. When I first met him, he seemed normal to me, and everything was fine. She would be happy to see him, and I would be too because he was like my "big brother." After a while, I thought it was weird, I was right.
I thought nothing could go wrong because he seemed like a perfectly normal guy. When I look back on it now, I realized how stupid I was and that he was the opposite of normal. Not only was he much older than my sister, he was in the army and would drive two hours to see her lie to my parents and use my room as a hotel. Everything that had happened for those eight months affected our family, and my sister. My parents had lost all their trust in me, when I was only ten. They found out because they were suspicious about the fact why my sister was acting so strange. My mother hired a private investigator on her, soon knowing everything about him. She's the judgmental type so she and my father started thinking about suing him for all he's got. Every night, my parents and my sister would fight.
Eventually my sister ended up hating him the way my mother did. My sister had regretted everything; including making this stupid mistake, bringing me into it, and putting our house in danger. That incident made my family crazy and a mess for about two years. When my parents meet her boyfriends or friends, they automatically judge and my sister can't do anything about it. We now have bars on our windows, and they're twice as strict. My mother would bring this story up every time me or my sister fought with her, using it against us. She thinks my sister still hasn't learned from her big mistake.
During my last year of elementary school, a difficult decision was put upon me. The school year was soon to end and I felt that i should enjoy the last couple of days of being the big kid, before turning into a scrub. A group of buddies and I decided to pull a prank, we thought since school was almost out and we're big kids now that we wouldn't get in trouble. Buddy, the quiet one of the bunch, stated that he didn't think this was such a good idea. We all thought it through again as a whole and in conclusion, we all decided to go on with it.
We thought of a dexterous prank, one for the ages, and that was to tee-pee the big oak tree in the baseball field. It was the day of the prank and everything was all mapped out. Everyone had a specific job and we decided to pull the prank two hours after school was out, so that no teachers or students will be watching. School was out, we waited for everyone to leave and we started throwing toilet paper all over the tree, I never had this much fun and never felt this happy in my life. The next morning, before school started, everyone laughed at our appealing creation.
It was the last day of school and I was enjoying every minute of it. There was a little feeling of agitation running through my body but a lot of pride. Everything was going perfect and it was the last 15 minutes of the school year. Suddenly, I was called in by the principle, I entered his room and I was the only one there. According to him, a teacher had seen me carry toilet paper in my backpack and he asked if anyone else was involved.
I was caught red-handed and didn't want to rat any of my friends out. In the end, the principle went easy on me and made me do after school trash pickup. I was relieved with everything that happened that day and did what I had to do and picked up trash around the school for 2 hours. I do regret what happened and wish I could go back and change all that had happened. Since that day, I made sure to think about the consequences before actually doing something i might regret.
I thought that it was well written and well structured. I didn't really get the contradiction or I believe that there wasn't really a contradiction. I enjoyed reading your quick-write because there was something interesting about it that made me continue reading. I also believe that it was more about your sister making a decision not you but i still loved it. (:
Your first paragraph didn't have 5 sentences but it is okay because you had a good thesis. Good use of your quotes, thought it strengthened your paragraph and supported your thesis. You have a lot of question mark which I don't think you need. Overall it was very good and your conclusion was strong. (:
As soon as sonorous bell from speaker freed me from geometry class, I urged my feet to speed up through multitude of Arcadia high school. I didn't want to be stuck in traffic. I let myself slow down a bit when the hallway became less crowded. There a senior-looking guy who was wearing black parka quickly passed by my shoulder. His two hands were poking his pockets. I was behind him when green paper fallen out from his pocket suddenly fluttered side-to-side and softly landed on wet asphalt. It was $20 bill!
My two eyes flashed out of righteousness. I thought of good deed and told a person inside me. “Pick up the money and return it to the owner.” Of course, that was what I was going to do but senior guy was already out of sight. He was gone while I was deciding whether I should be a just citizen who finds the owner or an indifferent ninth grade freshman who doesn’t know what to do. So, I ended up following second choice- an indifferent freshman. I wasn’t sure about myself if I could find the disappeared person and return twenty bucks to him. If I couldn’t find him, I’d be a thief. For sure, I didn’t want to be a thief.
When I calmed myself to just forget about whole thing that is none of my business, second thought came up. I was anxious about the possibility of money being claimed by some immoral people. With no reason I span around the place where senior guy dropped his money. Probably I just wanted to make sure that moral person gets it. One minute felt like an hour. Few people hurriedly passed by it but they seemed to be regardless. Then, a tall, brown haired girl finally recognized folded $20 bill. She looked around and lowered herself to claim it. I hoped, from all my heart, she would be a righteous person. My eyes followed her action. Her big steps were heading toward cafeteria. There she purchased some food by using twenty dollar.
Oh, no! It was too late. Now, quarter of twenty dollar was in tall girl’s stomach. I concluded that the girl had no intention to be virtue. I imagined the senior guy looking for lost $20 that’s never to be returned. I began to blame myself even though it wasn’t me who used the money. I felt like being in a situation when I could save someone’s life but I decided not to and that person died. I sort of exaggerated how guilty I felt about what I did. With hindsight I had alternative ways to return twenty dollar to senior guy. I could have gone to lost-and-found center or school office. However, there was nothing I could do now but just move on to next class.
First of all, it was interesting to read about the consequences of beloved one's choice and how third person views and feels about that consequence. But I couldn't really understand what you meant in some part of second paragraph. Except for that your paragraphs are well structured.
I liked the topic of your writing. It's very convincing story that a mischievous boy plans last day of elementary school. But, don't forget to capitalize i to I. Also, principle is spelled wrong. It should be principal.
I love how this seemed like such a small incident, but yet you made it into such an interesting story. You had good descriptions in it and images I could see really happening. It was also easy to feel the same way as you, just as if I were to be in that situation. The part about the other girl finding the $20 and using it for her lunch was a bit humorous and very believable.
Good story, I liked the way you described the two paths/choices that were open to you. I disagree with you on one point thought, I would have taken the $20 and turned it in, if no one claimed it I would have kept it. Overall this was a pretty good story.
well... that was a very great story.
and it had a good moral to it. but then again i've always admired your writing abilities!
Interesting story. ^.^
It was strange, but I thoguht it was well-written, overall. Don't be so hard on yourself, it was a really tricky situation from the beginning anyways.
Thanks for sharing your story!
I enjoyed reading it.
I am not going to use any names so person number one is the girl who was Trick-or-Treating with me, person number two is the girl who likes the same boy as person number 1 and the boy is the boy that they both like. Sorry if this gets confusing, but it is necessary.
It all started a few weeks before Halloween of 2008. Person number two pulled me over during lunch telling me that she liked the same boy as person number one. A few weeks later, it was Halloween. I went Trick-or-Treating with person number one around the Hugo Reid area when we run into the boy. Seeing him triggered my memory and went back to that moment that person number two told me who she liked. I felt bad and told person number one about the whole thing. From that moment on, I felt awful.
Later that night, I was lying in bed ready to close my eyes. Then, I decide I need to wipe my conscience clean, even though it might make things worse. So, I take my phone, scroll down in my contacts, find person number two’s name, and text her. I texted her telling her the whole story about how I told person number one the whole story and then, she yelled at me, via texting.
If I hadn’t told person number one anything, person number one, two and our other friend would still be talking to me, hanging out, and eating lunch with me. Before all this happened, we were best friends. We trusted each other, laughed together, cried together, but the moment I said what I said, it all changed. If I hadn’t said a word about it, I wouldn’t be friends with the people I am friends with today. In a way, I regret my actions, but then again, I did what I did and can’t change it and nothing I do or say can bring us back to the way it was before.
Arpisara (Lexy): I really liked your story. I don’t want to admit this but I would have done that too. Who would want to do homework when you could go out with your cousin?! I feel like I can relate to your story and how you feel about people who get F’s and don’t care and other people who get mad about B’s. I liked how you described the shriek and how your body handled the grade (sweating palms and head spinning.)
Kahao: Your story was another story I liked. I cannot relate to it, but I can feel what you felt through your words. This story really grasps the concept of this assignment: that one decision can change your life, you decided to take the unclaimed guitar and that made you steal even more things. And kind of like what Lexy said, be very careful because the owner might have Mr. Feraco and he/she now knows your name…
In our lives, we all find something that enjoy in life. Some people enjoy playing sports, some enjoy playing music. Some even enjoy collecting coins or visiting places all over the world. However, as we get older, we don’t have enough time to do these things and have to sacrifice what we love to do. The hardest decision in my life was choosing between playing on the basketball team, and joining the drum line. After this choice, my life as a teenager changed completely.
With every year that we age, we lose about an hour of free time for ourselves. I am now 15, which means I have already lost about 3 hours since I started middle school for myself. My dad had always told me that basketball was a better choice for the long run. He told me that it was more promising and that colleges would love to see me playing basketball. I could tell that my mom also wanted me to play basketball, but it was not only them that wanted me to, it was me too. I saw many advantages to continue my athletic career. I considered the exercise I would get and the fun I would have playing my favorite sport. Even though basketball seemed great, percussion had its positives as well.
Ever since I was about six years old, and knew anything about music, I have fascinated about the drums. Once I found out that my school had drum lessons, I was filled with excitement. At the time, I was a fourth grader, and when I requested to enroll in lessons, they told me that only fifth graders could join. I was completely outraged, but waited anyways. Ever since I started playing, it has been the most fun I have ever had. I did not want to just throw it all away. I saw an equally if not more promising future with percussion. That is why I chose to join the drum line instead of playing basketball.
High school is a period of transition from childhood to real teenage life, leaving us no more time to be kids. We have to start making our own decisions and thinking independently. We’re presented with real world problems and dilemmas that we have to face later in life. I saw drum line as the better decision but at the same time, didn’t consider how much I missed playing basketball. However, I figured that no matter what we do, we can only take one path in life.
As the first quarter of my high school career comes and goes, another identical day begins no different than any other: wake up, eat, go to school. However, as the bell for sixth period signaled the start of a three-day weekend, I dashed outside eager to get home. I began walking to where my mom normally picks me up, in front of the golf course. As I passed the soccer field, I stopped and watched. My observations created a respect for the sport and presented me with the idea of trying out for the soccer team. But that was for another day.
As I resumed walking, I came across the neighboring golf course. With no respect for the sport, I passed with a smirk laughing on the inside at everyone playing the “sport.” However, when a grey haired man shouted, “fore,” I was forced to pay attention. The ball whizzed by and barely missed me, but it did strike my anger. Furious at the near death experience, I bombarded the poor man with a piece of my mind. He explained it was an honest mistake and offered a free game of golf as a token of his apology. I scornfully declined. He, a persistent man, wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I hesitantly agreed.
Once outfitted with the proper shoes and equipped with a wide variety of clubs, we began the first of an eighteen-hole transformation. At first I was pathetic, a total loser. As I approached the tee, I began my swing with a putter in hand. Laughing, the grey- haired man handed me the correct club. It took about eight holes to get accustomed to the sport, but by the eighteenth, I was playing just as well as my mentor. Amazed, he congratulated me, which I returned with a “thanks for the lesson.” As we parted ways, I said my last goodbye to him for I never saw him again. However, a part of him never left me; I had a newfound respect for the game of golf.
It was yet another Friday. I walked to the normal spot where I get picked up. While passing the soccer field, I snickered as I passed, laughing at the players of the “sport.” At the golf course, however, I admired perfect strokes and the sport at it’s best.
Simon L: This is a very well written passage. I like how the intro begins with a vague perspective of life and then narrows into your own issue. High school, being a time of changed, was when I too considered dropping my sport, soccer. I, however, chose to stick with soccer and stand by my choice for I have made numerous friends and have had a lot of fun.
Kahao L: Also very well written and full of voice. I can almost hear and see you throughout the course of the passage. I can relate to seeing something with no apparent owner and think of taking it for myself, as I’m sure we all can. Guilt, however, stops most of us because personal gain feels that much better when earned, not stolen.
Kahao L.- Kahao this was a well written story. I really can relate to this topic. This has happened to me countless times. It is really hard because when you put yourself in their shoes, you feel so bad for taking their things. Personal gain only feels good when it is fair and without the feeling of guilt.
Eric F.- Eric, great story it was really interesting. I can relate to this as well. I sometimes insult other sports, music, or clothes. However, when I played the sports at P.E., I began to respect it a little more. When I listened to a new CD or tried on new clothing, I realized that it wasn't as bad as imagined.
I really liked how you said that karma decided to play a little trick on you. I could really relate to the choice you had to make, because I've ran into the same exact decision before. I could also picture tears running down your face. I liked how you used imagery in the last few sentences.
I loved the last sentence in the second paragraph. I can really imagine you strumming that chord and hearing that echo. The vocabulary you used was amazing. I found myself having to use an online dictionary to understand what your story meant. =]
I was running down a trail one sunny afternoon, when I heard a call for help. The voice came from in a ditch 20 feet ahead. I had about only two miles left until the end of my workout, and I was in a rhythm. If I stopped, it would be pretty hard to get in to a fast stride again, considering the fact that the 8 miles I had ran would catch up to my legs. Besides, what if he really wasn’t that badly hurt, or it was a trap? I decided I had to take those risks, even if I didn’t know if the plea was legit. Step by step, I edged my self down to where the voice came from.
As I got closer to the bottom, I started to get nervous. My steps got slower and slower, my muscles tense. When I stepped down from the last ledge, I let out a big sigh of relief. It wasn’t a trap or somebody faking it to waste my time, the person was really hurt. He was a boy about maybe 1 or 2 years older than me, and I could clearly see that his leg was broken. When I helped him up, he said, “Hey, thanks for helping me, I’m Jacob.” As we slowly waked back to the start of the trail, we talked and I got to know him better. He’s a sophomore at Temple City High, and runs cross country, like me. When we finally got back after maybe a half hour, we were chatting like good friends.
After we took Jacob to the hospital, my mother agreed to let me hang out at Jacob’s house. There wasn’t much to do, with only 3 able legs for 2 people, but we still had fun by watching T.V. and playing video games. Once his leg healed, we started running together, maybe once every 2 weeks. I couldn’t imagine never meeting Jacob, because he’s such a great friend. Considering all it took to meet him, was to lend a helping hand.
Keemlin N: I really liked your story, because in the end, you learned from your mistake and knew what you did wrong. Your story flowed nicely and your word choice was good. Also, I liked how you had more than one important decision to make in your story. You had the decision to defend your friends, and the other to pull the prank or not.
Tiffany S: Your tone in this story was great, I could feel the frustration emitting from the words. Also, I like how you reflected on what would have happened if you choose to stop your sister. The conflict in your thoughts makes this story dark. When I read your story, I pictured clouding skies and then thunder and lighting when you were robbed.
Brian, i think it was a good act on your part to do what you did. Look on the bright side, you made a new friend and you feel good about what you did,
And Lena, been there done that. I know exactally what you feel and the whole person number 1 and 2 thing, its confusing but dont worry i get it
All my family and I were in the desert for New Years. One morning, my dad, uncle, and I Woke up and went for a cruise in the dune buggy. Just riding along when we saw two specs on the top of a hill. So we decided to go see what it was. It was two kids my age standing at the top of the hill scared and nervous. We drove over to them to see what happened, and supposedly they went for a walk in the middle of the night. IN THE DESERT! That’s one thing you never do.
We decided to help them out we took them back to our camp and my dad took one of the kids to go find his camp. The one that stayed with us was wiped out, he could barely even stand. He sat down in a chair and says the thinks he’s going to…. Boom, falls asleep. Then my mom came up to him and put a blanket over him and he jumped up all scared. My mom told him it was ok, and he fell right back asleep. Then my dad shows up with the other kid, but he was on his dirt bike. He found his camp and the kid came back to get his friend. Life lesson-never “take a walk” in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night!
I thought your story was very touching. It had a lot of detail, and your tone, really made me feel what you were feeling. Although you could have added more detail to what the boyfriend had done to make your family hate him. However i really liked how you thought of your sister the whole time.
I thought your story was very touching also. You cared about your sister so much you didnt want to hurt her, but in the end you figured out you should have talked to her. I thought your story was filled with alot of detail, and your tone helped me feel how you really felt.
A couple week before the football camp started in the summer, i was confused if I should play or not. Was it a sports team? The nerviousness? Or just wanting to play or not? I think it was all of those. Was i going to make friends? I woke up out of my wonderful well spent bed on a summer day, and thought to myself about it. It was a tough decesion I had to make. As time went on with me eating a big bowl of Cherrios, it kept sticking in my mind. I really didn't know what to do.
Later on in the day, I decided to call up my dad at work. I began to ask him if I should play on the apache football team or not. He began to tell, "Son I very sure that you would have lots of fun if you joined, and you would meet lots of new buddy's, I'll go over more when I get home tonight." "Ok, bye," I said. I continued on with my normal day and waited for that moment when my dad walked in the door. The first thing I began to ask him, "Dad, Dad can you talk to me about the team," "Hold on he said, Let me take my suit off and change." Alright I thought to myself. About a half an hour later, my Dad walked into the den where I was sitting watching T.V. "So are you going to jain the team or not son," Well i think so." "Here take a look at my pads," I walked over into the back spare bedroom, and looked at the marked up helmet from all the hard hits he made. The shoulder pads with paint embedded in them from contact from other jerseys. " Yeah I think I'm going to join he team," I told him.
The first week into it and it was a wonderful experience. I met alot of new friend like how my dad said, and even the one's I already knew had become a closer friendship. As the season moved on I had knew everyone on the team, and how great the experience was. I made some tackles. Also marked up my helenet with other hit, just like my dad. From that day the advice was given, I had that feeling inside just how everyone explained it.
Now I thought to myself again, I could pass these stories on to my children and tell them how my dad convinced my and how much fun it was. I could be just like my dad. I probably wouldn'y have that many friends as I do now if I wouldn't have joined the apache foot ball team for Arcadia High School. It also would have beed a difficulty to be able to pass the stories on if I was on the hard hitting team. The keyword is "To listen to advice from your parents."
It was about 10 years ago, and i was placed with a decision that would change my life forever. I was in my room, watching my favorite movie Ariel, when my mom called my name to go to the living room. She sat my whole family down, and we had to have a long talk. It all started with "we just want to let you know, none of this is your fault". Even though i was young i knew what was going on, my parents were getting a divorce. My family was about to get torn apart forever, and there was nothing i could do to fix it.
My family gave my brother and I the decision to pick what parent we wanted to live with. I didnt know which parent i wanted, becasue I loved them both, so this was going to take alot of thinking. My brother and mom were having many problems and fighting constantly, so he decided to go with my dad. With that decision made i automatically chose my mom because i felt bad. My dad and brother eventually got their stuff together and left. They didnt move to far away so i still saw them often.
Im 15 now, and the arrangement is still the same. I see my dad almost everyday, and my parents get along fine. Even though the decision affected my life, i still wonder what would have happened if i chose to live with my dad. My life could have been completely different, i'd be going to a different school, and living in a different house. Even though i know i made a good decision, and have a wonderful, i wonder what kind of person i would be today.
"Bye, Rachel. See you tomorrow!" She said.
"Oh," Her goodbye had caught me by surprise. "Bye!"
My hair was still dripping wet after my unsuccessful attempt to get it dry. It was like the raindrops racing of the side of a rooftop; annoyingly repetitive. I shrugged it off and finished stuffing my belonging into my cardinal red duffle bag, gold letters printed on it that spelled out "ARCADIA APACHES."
After leaving the locker rooms was when I realized it had been raining. I was utterly surprised, although I shouldn't have been. It was spring and during spring it rained quite a bit. I was so dissapointed; My hair was wet, it was raining, this day could not have been any worse. Then I remembered why my hair was wet and it brought a smile on my face.
I got into the big, silver SUV as it pulled up to the front of the school with my mom smiling in the driver's seat.
"So..." she started, eagerly. "How was your first competition."
I couldn't contain myself. "We won!" I bursted.
"That's great! I'm so proud of you!"
So, was my sister I found out when we got home.
"See? Aren't you glad you joined after all?" She asked.
I was unsure how to answer that. It was a little of both. It felt great racing and even better winning. All the praise I recieved and all the friends that I had made was an added bonus. I couldn't help, however, from feeling that joining the swim team was not so great. It was already six and I still had a truckload of homework and two test the next day. Was this new sport really worth me suffering academically?
The sport was swimming, btw. I think I forgot to put that.
The was a really believable story. I almost forgot that it was fictional. There was great imagery and word choice. They definitely appealed to my senses. There was some grammatical errors and some misspellings though. Overall, it was very good.
I was sure that I did something to supremely annoy whoever it was in the sky. I didn't know if it was God, or Buddha, or whoever it was at the time who decided to pay attention to little old me, but whoever it was definitely had a grudge against me. Now, why was I blaming someone "up there"? Because, there was no way my mom would have just decided to go and demolish half of the house for her new "idea". And, what do you know? My room was on the demolished side.
I suppose I shouldn't have started yelling. My mother was the type of person who fancies an idea, and just rushes into things. She doesn't plan anything out, or thinks of the consequences. If she wants to open a restaurant, she'll go and look up all the places available for lease the next day. But deciding to just remodel half the house so she could start being a cook? Not going to happen when that half includes my room.
So I started arguing with her, calmly at first. I pointed out that the cost would be too much, there would be too many problems. Most of those "problems" belonged to me. Where was I going to sleep? Where does my stuff go? What about my computer? When she said to just throw out half the "junk", though, I snapped. I started yelling about how she was selfish and didn't care about me. When I noticed that she was crying, though, I realized that I was the selfish one.
Our house is still the same, and my mother and I are still the same. However, I still believe that a little piece of her never forgave me.
Hopefully you are now alright with you mother?
I had fun reading your story.
Did you ever ask her why she wanted to 'destroy' half of the house?
Maybe you both can understand each other if you talk about it?
I'm sorry if I am sounding rude. I didn't mean to. ^.^
Thank you for sharing your story!
I really enjoyed it.
I walked down the wet hallway to pick up my sister from my old Chinese school. It had been raining that day and I could hear the water under my feet pick up with a splash. As I neared my sister’s classroom, one of my former teachers came up to me and asked if I would like to volunteer there by helping some kids with their homework. I told her that I would see if I had time. She gave me two days for a reply. That night, I thought about whether I wanted to take the offer or not. I knew I would have to get hours somehow, but I really didn’t want to put more stress on myself.
Two days later, when I went to pick up my sister on another cold day, I told my teacher kindly that I didn’t have time and that I wasn’t interested. She understood but asked me to help her look for volunteers anyway. Over the next few days, the teachers started assigning more and more homework as we neared finals. I had to work on an already tight schedule, work fast, and study. Each day when I got home, I would start my homework but wouldn’t finish until almost 11. I was really stressed and tired all the time.
After finals were over, homework went back to its normal rate. Now I had some free time to relax and had more quality time with my family. I was still happy with my decision not to take the volunteering job at my Chinese school. It would have taken too much time and left me with nothing. Some friends who had taken the offer told me that it wasn’t worth it to go two or three days a week. I’m glad I didn’t take that job.
On an evening, a couple days before Thanksgiving, when I was in 5th grade, I had made a choice that had changed part of my life. My dad asked me to go on a car ride to a place were he kept it anonymous. While I was sitting in the car, I was wondering where we were going that is so secretive. When we arrived I saw a big sign that said "Piano Gallerie," and I thought to myself if I was coming here to look at pianos. So then I asked my dad "Are we going to get a piano?" And my dad answered "yes, but were are also going to sign you up for piano lessons." Right when I heard "piano lessons," my heart pounded an extra beat and my fists were clenched up. That was the most terrible thing that has happened to my life.
When we got inside, the area was dark, gloomy, and silent. Me and my dad went inside the office were the piano teacher was already siting there waiting for us to come inside. While my dad was signing papers, I thought that the teacher seemed pretty nice, and maybe taking piano lessons won't be as bad after all. My dad even told me that if I didn't like the first couple of lessons I could stop taking them, but I responded to my dad "I will not quit and continue taking them until I finish the levels in piano.After a couple of lessons, I started to realize that I made a terrible mistake in agreeing to take the piano lessons. So every time I needed to practice piano, I would only practice for 10 minutes and get really mad at my parents after I practiced.
I have been taking piano lessons for about 4 years now, and I think learning how to play the piano has prove to me that it is not evil, and is beneficial to know how to play an instrument. Some of my friends told me that it sounds really cool to play the piano and they wish that they could learn how to play one too. Overall, I am glad that I stuck to continue playing the piano, and I wonder how I would feel if I didn't know how to play the piano.
Rachel T: Your story was great. Your writing style makes it so easy for me to easily see both sides of the dilemma. It's easy to see that although you worry about homework and grades, like every high schooler does, you don't want to let go of swimming. I can tell that you were excited by your win, but still worried about the workload waiting for you at home.
Taylor N.: Your writing was really emotional. The tone of your writing really conveyed how you were stuck between your two parents. It was also detailed, so I could almost see how the surroundings were when you were told to make a decision. I like how you take in other people's reaction to the divorce.
To Taylor N.
I thought your story really touched my heart because having divorced parents is a really tragic thing and I know how you feel. Also the it had a really good tone to it and there were no grammatical errors. I like your last paragraph because it tells me that you are doing well and your parents get along fine. Overall, you had a great story and I am glad to hear that you see your dad everyday and your are doing fine.
To Tyler H.
I thought your story was really cool because it was really nice that your dad showed you his football gear that he had in the past. There were no grammatical errors and the part were it said "As time went on with me eating a big bowl of Cherrios," was funny. I thought your last paragraph was really good because it shows a lot how much you care about your parents. Overall, I thought your story was really good.
When I was 14 my parents separated, and they told me I had to choose one of them to live with. I thought about it for a while. If I chose to live with my mom, I wouldn’t have as much freedom as I would if I chose to stay with my dad. I made up my mind and went with my dad. Things were tough at first. I had moved to a new school, gotten a new house, and I was only seeing my mom once a month. The first day for me at the new school was weird because I didn’t know anyone. Finally in math class, someone came up to me. We had a conversation the whole period. I didn’t notice that our teacher was getting angry with our talking. She called us in at lunch and discussed with us that she didn’t like us distracting the class.
A couple weeks had passed and I was warming up to the school. I had lots of friends now and one of them was having a party. He was a junior and his parents were gone for the weekend. I asked my dad if I could go, and he said no. He didn’t know who the family was. I tried telling him that all my friends were going to be there, and if I didn’t go, I would have no chance of being cool. I had to stay home. In my room I was laying on my bed bored with nothing to do. I decided to sneak out and go to that party.
I climbed out my window into the pouring rain. When I showed up at the party, I was drenched. Across the room I saw my friends and walked up to them. They were drinking and they offered me some, but I said no. An hour later, someone knocked on the door. My friend who was throwing the party answered it. It was the cops, and they had gotten a phone call that we were being loud. My friend was hammered, and the cops new that he was under age. They shut down the party and took everyone home. It was eleven when my dad got a knock on the door. He saw the cops holding me and pulled me in the door. He was furious with me and made me move schools. Then I ended up at Arcadia High. This didn’t really what happened. I live with my mom and dad.
In the beginning of the story i felt really sad, but at the very end i was cracking up. You had a few grammatical errors, but aside from that i really like your story. This story seemed like it could really happen, which is a reason why i liked it. It was a short story, but it was detailed so that i could imagine the scene in my mind.
Taylor, I thought that your story was very well written. It was sad to hear about the divorce in the beginning, but its good that you were happy with your decision. It is very sad to hear about peoples parents getting divorces. Children can be effected in very negative ways from their parents splitting.
Tyler, I liked your story because you listened to your dad and joined the football team. The story was well narrated. It's good that you were happy for joining the football team. I thought that this story teaches kids to listen to their parents because they are more wise and make better judgements
16 February 2009
It happened in the summer of 2005. I was torn between going to summer camp with my church and joining football. Football practice was everyday in the summer and I wasn’t able to do both. I decided to go and play football with my friends. I tried out for linebacker and after that all I could think about is football.
Freshman year there were allot of people that were new to tackle football and we didn’t trust each other like a championship team would. We had a lot of work to do. Half way through our freshman season some of our best offense players went to play for J.V. and varsity. Pressure fell on our defense because our offense couldn’t put up the points like they use to. We had a good season ending with a record of 8-4 over all and 7-2 in our league. When I was a sophomore I started on J.V. and played back up for varsity in the last half of the season. Our team grew stronger together and learned how to trust each other on and off the field. I couldn’t say the same about our varsity team. The J.V. record was 10-3 and the varsity record was 7-6. Finally junior year I became a starter on varsity. We were feeling confident about state championship because we were a young team of mostly juniors and we were almost undefeated. Our team had grown so much from freshman year and all formed a family now. We were like brothers, which is why we progressed so much on the field. We only lost one game that season. We ended up going to the play off but got slaughtered to an all-senior team by 24 points. Coach D had lead us a long way through out our football career. He showed us the morals that football teaches you but he longed for an undefeated season.
Senior year came. All anyone could think about was football. We had worked hard for four years or longer for this season. Our conference games passed with ease being undefeated. We were as ready as we would ever be for the playoffs. We were in the semifinal game and ended up winning into over time. That was the hardest game we had played that season. We did it. Arcadia high football was in the state championship. We played the game of our lives. We knew this was probably the last game that we were going to play. We played every down like it was our last. In the end we lost by one touchdown. I felt the worst I’ve ever felt in my life. I think ever one felt that way. Our coaches said they were proud of us for coming this far but we all knew what they were really thinking. They weren’t mad at us though. We played the best we possibly could but it just wasn’t enough.
When I look back to when I was 11 I’m glad I made that choice to join football because without playing football I wouldn’t be as successful as I am today. After high school I went on to play some college football but not for a big school or anything. Football was fun but above anything it taught me how to work hard and push myself to be the best I can be.
Keemlin N: I liked your story and that you didn’t rat out your friends for doing the prank with you. I feel like you could of put more effort into details, not that I did a better it but it was still a good story.
Simon L: Nice story. It shows how hard it is to make decisions between things that we really want to do. The first sentence of the first paragraph doesn’t make much sense; it’s probably just missing a word or something. Overall good story.
This all happened around two years ago when I had a cousin (he was around eight or nine, I think) visiting. Everything was fun and we were all having a good time. At this time I was a pretty irresponsible person, in eighth grade and all. I had no cares in the world, other than school, of course. Everything in life was good and going my way. Any way my family including my uncle aunt and cousin decided to go to Disneyland for one day, I thought it was going to be a blast. So we all get ready and head off to Disneyland.
Everything was going fine; we were enjoying the rides and eating the food (which was not that good), when we decided to split up. It was my cousin and I, my brother and his friend, and the adults. So off we went, my cousin and I, wherever I wanted to go. Soon he got scared of the rides that I wanted to go on and started being a brat, so we made a little deal, he could go on some rides that he wanted to go on by himself. I told him be done with his rides by 5:00, cause we were meeting up with the rest of the family around 6:00, and wait next to the cotton candy stand. That’s when I left him and went on all the fun rides.
Before I knew it, it was 5:00, as they say, “Time flies when you’re having fun.” But then my evil little mind started making excuses for not meeting up with my little cousin. He was being a brat, he was annoying, and what is wrong with making him wait for a few minutes, he called himself a big boy so he should be tested to act like one. In the end I ignored the time and reemerged myself with the heaven that was Disneyland. Once again time flew; I had only gone on 3 rides when it was suddenly 5:40! I rushed off to find my cousin.
I couldn’t find him. He wasn’t by the cotton candy stand. I cursed, rather loudly, and ran around look for him. There he was, next to the fountain sitting on the bench! I rushed over to him preparing to scold him for not waiting next to the cotton candy stand. When I walked up to him I noticed that his face was wet, he had been crying. That’s when it hit me and I realized how mean I had been, to leave an eight year old all by himself in Disneyland for almost an hour. I reassured him and bought him some Kit Kat to stop his crying. I can’t remember apologizing more than that in one day. After begging him not to tell anyone we met up with everyone else, as if nothing had happened.
Erict Trask story was very convinceing. Although I was very sad that his parents got a devorce when he was 14. It was a toughtful story and rear droping to hear how he had to choose which parent to live with. It was a well adviced story that had only one grammatical errors that I caught. Out of all, I think this story was very well planned out.
Taylor N. story was a sad story also dealing with devorces. I was sad because it was dealing with her whole family. I brought to my attention the emotions I could feel her feeling by the way it happened at the talk after she was wating a movie. I think it was a wonderful story and had complete thought. Also, it was very convinceing.
Here at Arcadia High, you have to fit in. Find your place, where you belong; or you’ll go nuts. I didn’t feel like doing anything, I had no drive. I just wanted to get my homework done, and sleep all day. While I was yawning my days away in Geometry, the annoyingly upbeat people of Apache News were talking. They got to the sports section and said that Arcadia was looking for girls to play Junior Varsity Water Polo. Haha, funny I thought to myself. Who’d want to play Water Polo?
My sister had been on the team the year before and she told me that it was in the Winter season. Now, I’m no genius but last time I checked its cold in the winter. Being in 35 degree water in the winter does not sound like fun. Besides that you have to wake up at 5:30 a.m. to go to the weight room TO LIFT WEIGHTS! I’m going to talk to congress about that because that sounds to me like cruel and unusual punishment. So I said heck no and moved on with my day.
Not being involved with anything I decided to try something new with my day, since I had nothing to do. I did all my homework during my other classes while my teachers were talking, so I decided to go to the park. Not the park where the little children play on the slide, the park where everyone smokes weed. My friend and I went over there not knowing what to except. Soon enough, this skater guy with blood shot eyes offered us a hit. So not being at any team practice and having nothing to lose, I said yes. After a while I was too high to realize why everyone was running. Oh I figured out why in the end, because the police had arrived!
The police took my friend and I “Downtown”, as they call it, for questioning. I had learned on “Law and Order: S.V.U.” that if you just admit to what you did the jury might go easier on you. In the end, that’s not really true. With my family having no money to bail me out, I spent the night in jail. Well I did always want to be like Paris Hilton. The next day I got my one phone call. I decided to call my mom and she told me since my perfect sister was attending Brown, we had no money for that Harvard graduate six figure salary earning lawyer. So I was stuck with the D.A. the state had given me. Oh great I’m for sure going to jail. Now with a possession charge on my record no colleges will every take me, and my dreams of becoming something have just gone down the toilet.
I sit here in jail sometimes wondering what would happen if I had joined that Water Polo team. If I had been practicing my shooting or passing, instead of being at that park. If I would have been on a bus with my new best friends singing “99 Bottles of Beer” or prank calling. I’ll never know, and I’ll never leave this jail. At least not for the next three months.
I loved this story it seemed so real. I liked how relaxed you seemed in this story. The punctuation seemed right and your grammar was correct. It was funny to know that if you just joined the Water Polo team, you wouldn't have gotten into all of that mess.
It all started off on a cold, wet Friday about a week ago. After just getting out from a hard day of school, I was so excited to go hang out with friends and enjoy the weekend. School is extremely stressful and the weekends are my time to relax, sleep, and hang out with my friends. I had plans to go over to my friend’s house later that night. I had been excited about all week cause I knew how much fun we would have. Little did I know that soon my plans would be changing. Messing up my plans for that night and leaving my stuck at home.
I had a soccer meeting after school that went on for about an hour. When that finished I called my mom and told her I needed picking up. She told me I would have to wait because my little brother needed picking up from a field trip. It was a cold, rainy day and all I wanted to do was go home and stay warm. Telling me she wouldn’t be too long, I waited outside, freezing. Angry that I was so cold and it seemed like my mom was taking forever to come get me, when she did arrive I got really mad at her.
I yelled at her and told her I was waiting in the rain for almost half an hour. That led to the argument that ruined my whole weekend. We went back and forth yelling, however, I got in trouble for starting the fight. The plans that I was so excited about were gone. She was so mad at me she told me I couldn’t go anywhere and that I couldn’t have anyone over, so basically that was my weekend ruined.
Because I decided to yell at her, instead of telling her nicely that I was annoyed my weekend pretty much sucked. There we so many other ways to confront her other then yelling. It wasn’t a choice that changed my life, but from then on I just kept my mouth shut.
well. it didnt really have the whole lot of sensory in it. but i can so relate to your story! doesnt everyone have those messed up days that come out with the worst consequence at that moment. so what did you end up doing that weekend?
2. I really liked your story Helena because everyone gets mad and takes their anger out on someone and you showed the what the consequence could lead to. Your story was really believable. Is it true?
Lexy I thought that you story was awesome! It was really easy to relate to, and I think we've all had problems like that in our lives! Yes, karma is not nice but we all have to deal with it. That's why I especially liked it, because we're all going through those things.
To Tiffany S.
Tiffany, you're story was incredible! It could be on Criminal Minds or CSI right now. Everyone has a time in their life when their families suffer, and I think you touched everyone with that. The fact that you used similes comparing your family to tissue, were also excellent touches.
So many times we have been influenced by people around us. With decisions we make, with things we do, and even things we don’t. Friends can influence us on those more than anyone else, especially the closest ones. As for the people who just didn’t fit in, it was harder than anything else.
Way back when I was a second grader, I had attended a private school, where we had to wear uniforms and polished shiny shoes each day. I had a big group of friends. One day, a new girl had just moved to our school, and she was different. She didn’t wear her uniform, and we all looked down upon her. During recess, our teacher had pulled our group aside and assigned her to be our “buddy”. We looked at each other, and were puzzled.
We had no idea what we were going to do, and she sort of drifted away within time. I guess she just didn’t really fit in with us. At the time, we really didn’t care, we had everything we needed, each other. As she drifted apart, occasionally, she would come back, and try to hang out with us during recess and lunch. It was hard for us, but since she was a classmate, we sort of let her. Only, over time, she had a different objective.
She decided that it was okay to take over the group one day when I was sick and didn’t go to school. Right after school, my phone was ringing of the hook; everyone had to tell me what had happened. Each person really only had bad things to say about her. There wasn’t a single nice thing said about her. I didn’t attend school for 2 more days afterwards, and she did the same. When I felt well enough to carry myself on my two feet, I went to school. We avoided her, and she sat in a corner.
When I saw her crying, I went up to her, and talked to her about things. I asked her why she would think it was okay to do something like that. My friends were glaring at her, and I had told them to walk away, and just let me talk to her. She had told me her life story. She said that her family was really torn up. Her dad had just lost his job, and had gotten a divorce from her mom. She has been switching school every semester for the past 3 years. Life was hard for her, but after hearing these things, I became her shoulder to cry on. Although my friends didn’t appreciate my actions, to this day, I still believed that I was right in making that decision to talk to her.
Lena K: I thought your story was very well written, and I know how you feel. I’ve made mistakes like that in my life too, but things like that happen only make us stronger for the next time something like that comes along.
Bryan M: I liked your story, and could really relate to it. I have been in the same situation before, only I never gave up something like that. I look at opportunities like that as a good, positive thing, no matter how busy I was, I thought of it as helping out other people.
I need to EDIT! Sorry.
In paragraph one, it should be:
"I didn't care anymore about "graduating" Eighth grade like everyone wanted."
"When my parents found out I had been skipping not just a few math questions, but ALL of my work, they went ballistic."
In paragraph two it should be: "Some times I got caught,
since my parents started to call my teachers to see if I was at school."
In paragraph three: Book titles Catcher in the Rye and Forever should be underlined...
"I snuck through alleyways, checking for gangs before I
went in, and looking out for cops before I went out."
It was around the middle of the school year that I had crashed. I'd given up.
I didn't care anymore about "graduating" Eighth grade like everyone wanted.
I decided to just quit doing anything about school.
When my parents found out I had been skipping not just a few math
questions, but ALL of my work, they went ballistic.
They took away anything I had that was considered a form of
entertainment for me. I still wouldn't work. I didn't want to.
Things got bad. There were fights everyday before and after school. The
teachers made meetings with my parents; meetings about getting me to
work, telling me how important it is to graduate, telling me that I'm not
choosing the right path, telling me that I should get help. I got tired of
school altogether for a while, and would sneak out of the house leaving
fake notes that I went to school in the morning. Some times I got caught,
since my parents started to call my teachers to see if I was at school.
Other times I'd just go home after hanging around town because I was
hungry, and would savor the fact that they couldn't find me no matter what
One night I got tired of home. I got tired of my family. I was sick of this life.
That night I got up and stuffed my empty backpack with things I can barely
remember. I got my Mom's old book The Catcher in the Rye, and Forever by
my beloved author, Pete Hamill. Then, I snuck around and stole any form of
cash in the house, and snuck out the back. I was careful not to wake the
dogs, and climbed over the back gate, in case my parents saw or heard the
darned thing opening. I snuck through alleyways, checking for gangs before I
went in, and looking out for cops before I went out.
I got to a nearby, run down convenience store that was about two blocks away
from the city library. At the store I looked around for water bottles, and asked
the clerk for the time. She said it was time for me to go home. I pretended to be
angry that she "thought I was a child, even though I am nearly eighteen." I let her
take a good look at my school jacket for effect. It was supposed to be for the
Saint George School Graduating Class of 2008, but they forgot to mention it was
an elementary school on the jacket. She bought my story, and I bought two water
bottles. I heard the bus come to a stop in front of the store, and looked outside.
AZUSA flashed bright green in front of my eyes, and I walked towards it as calmly
as I could. I had to act like I was used to commuting from city to city late at night.
I paid the driver the two dollar fee and found a seat near the back of the bus. Sitting
near me was a hispanic mother trying to calm her baby down. The smell of baby
formula invaded my nose. I looked out the window and closed my eyes. I wasn't
going to go back, and I couldn't, but I still wondered. I wondered what would have
happened if I had chosen a different path.
to Gaby C.: Wow, your story was interesting. I loved the details you included. I'm sure anyone who was really in that position would freak out. I know if something like that were to ever happen to me my parents would never let me back in the house. So making the decision to play a sport is definitely the way I would go.
to Kevin G.: Your story is something i can relate too. I play soccer and that the best decision i probably ever made. So I understand why you are happy you made the choice of playing football. Also, i used to be on a team that needed a lot of work. We practiced and practiced and ended up winning league championships. The hard work we all put in payed off.
It all began on a very harsh day, the first day of high-school, this day although ordinary did not feel like any ordinary day. As i slowly arrive to school everything feels awkward... not only am in were everyone is older then me but i switched from a school that contained 11-14 year old's to a school which contained 14-18 year old's. Not only was i smaller then everyone but the school was at the lease 20 times bigger then my middle school. From then on i was horrified that someone would attack me from behind like a starving cheetah that had not eaten for 3 days.
I decided to hate the school, i hated everything from the classes I went to, to the teachers who taught the classes in which i went to . Everyone seemed to feel the same also, everyone hated the lunch the teaches and pretty much anything else that had to do with the school. Because of my strong desire to hate the school i decided to cut class and return after school hours to annihilate all of the property from a hall down to h hall. I felt completely ecstatic and decided to cut class again the next day, i made the wrong choice. This horrible act of mine led to an extremely long talk which involved my parents and every councelor of the school including the principal and the dean. I had literally failed, at that moment i knew that my life was over i was probably going to have to go to juvenile hall and then become a criminal.
This decision was, without a doubt, the worst decision i had ever made in my life. Like I had imagined i was forced to go to juvenile hall but i did not become a criminal. With this experience i only learned that revenge is definitely the worst thing on this planet because it turns people who are enraged for silly reasons against other people or things. I realized that i could have just decided to not totally hate arcadia high school none of that would have happened.
This is fictional and i did not go to juvi hall, i love ahs
1. I liked your story Brandon because everyone has to experience the new experiences of high school and you put it into a perspective of someone who could get overwhelmed with the situation. I got a little confused about how you got caught in your story. You might want to explain that a little more next time. But over all really nice job!
It was winter of 2003; the coldest day of the year was about to become even colder for one hapless 3rd grader whose only intent today on this Friday was to just peacefully go through the day without any…unfortunate events happen. Obviously today wasn’t gunna be his day.
The day started like any other- we (the short little munchkins) play in the sandbox, the teacher tells us to get out, we pay no attention to them whatsoever and retort in annoying screwed up voices “School didn’t start yet, you can’t tell us what to do!” School started and we ran to our respective classes to chant the pledge, take attendance, blah blah blah. An hour passed followed by another, Fred, a kid sitting ummmmm around 2-3 chairs away from me looked as if he was gunna blow. His face was red. His legs tightly squeezed together. Finally when he could bear it any longer, he ran out the door. Time ticked by as the teacher taught us multiplication and whatnot when all of a sudden the door opened and there stood Fred with an idiotic smile on his refreshed face. He walked to his seat and was followed by a wave of how should I say? …Interesting smells. He had a 2-foot long white and…brown thing flapping around his pants. Wanna guess what it is?
The lunch bell rang. We cried. We cheered. We ran out the door. But at the same time we were all quietly laughing at poor Fred behind his back. You know those boys who everyone knows likes this girl and everyone knows this girl likes them back but both of them won’t admit their love? Well, Fred is one of those boys. But as I sat there munching down some animal crackers and milk, I wondered if Fred would even be able to maintain a friendship let alone a relationship with Mary if his dirty piece of paper was seen by her (Mary’s the girl who likes Fred if you didn’t notice). Now to relieve readers of possible confusion I should say right now that Fred has no idea of his predicament. I was sorry for his ignorance, so I sneaked up on him and quietly whipped it off. Lunch was over. All the students went back to class. During the second part of class, even though the toilet paper was off Fred’s butt, memories left by that moment carried on within the minds of all the classmates and so-called friends. Laughter continued for several moments and I told everyone to stop laughing. At this point, Fred knew what was going on. And so, the humiliation stopped…in time and the toilet paper hanging from Fred’s buttocks was never heard from again.
I think back during that time and wonder what would have happened if Mary saw Fred’s embarrassing “moment”. Would she still like him after that? Would he be too embarrassed to talk to her? Even now I feel guilty for not sticking up for him sooner. Which leads me to my next question: if I hadn’t taken it off would someone else have? The world isn’t made up of good people or bad people. It’s made up of people that make good or bad decisions; with this I get my answer to my question: Yes.
-I used some incorrect spelled words on purpose such as ummmmm, gunna, wanna, etc.
nice Johnny you made it seem like i was there and felt the coldness. Nice word choice. You also have some good tones made me happy. I have never seen your writing i thought i would have been burritos but wow.
I liked your use of description (i.e.: cardinal red, big silver SUV.) but I thought that your story was a bit rushed. You might want to double check your work in the future because I had trouble figuring out what this line meant:
"So, was my sister I found out when we got home."
There were some grammatical errors and misspellings that probably could have been caught by Microsoft Word, a dictionary, etc. I liked how you started the story with dialogue and ended the story with a question that left me thinking whether or not sports are a good thing or a bad thing.
First off I really have to say that I loved the ending. When I finished reading it, I was completely shocked and I had to read it again to make sure I didn’t read it incorrectly. At the beginning of the story (before I finished reading the whole thing) I felt really sorry for you and I felt really sad at the same time. One sentence that didn’t feel particularly good to read was "Then I ended up at Arcadia High." as it felt like it was going 1 step and 2 steps down. Besides 2 minor grammatical mistakes (at least that was all that I could find) it was well written tragic (and comedic) story.
It was 3 weeks before promo at my middle school and I was really scared because I didn’t know what to wear. I thought of the super cute dress I saw in the window of a shop at the mall except I didn’t have enough money to buy it. I didn’t want to ask my parents because I knew that they would not want me to spend so much money on a satin dress that I would only wear once. All of a sudden, I had an urge to go inside and try on the dress. So I walked in and looked around for the dress and when I found it I quickly grabbed the right size and rushed into the dressing room.
The satin felt nice on my skin when I tried it on and I felt really happy and pretty confident wearing it. I looked at the price tag and W-O-W it was expensive! I only had some money with me and I counted out everything and I was missing 20 dollars. I sadly changed back into my clothes and slowly walked out of the shop. I decided to get a job to earn money to buy the beautiful satin dress. I looked around for a job except I was too young to get a job so I decided to go home and see if I could do some extra chores to get some extra money.
My chore money was only a dollar a week which meant that I would have to work 20 weeks just to have enough money to get the dress. Disappointed, I decided to try to earn money the next day. The next day, i was thinking to myself about which extra chores I could do and all of a sudden I saw a 20 dollar bill lying on the ground. I thought to myself “who could have left it here? Should I take it? Should I leave it on the ground like I didn’t see it at all?” tons of questions came to my head all of a sudden and I decided that I would pick it up and return it to the office in case someone lost it and needed it. The office lady took the 20 dollar bill and said that if someone didn’t claim it, I could keep it. Part of me wanted to not let someone claim it and the other part wanted someone to claim it because they might be missing 20 dollars on buying a dress/suit for promo. After 2 weeks, I was called into the office and I got to keep the 20 dollar bill. I hurriedly went to the mall and I bought the dress. I’ve never forgotten that part of my dress was paid for by someone who lost a 20 dollar bill.
I would have done the same thing and I really like the adjectives you used to describe how you felt. I know how you feel when you say that your sister took the honor classes and you took the regular classes because thats what happened to me too.
To Bryan M.
I thought that your story was really realistic because the same thing happened to me and i think that when you volunteer, you have to always keep in mind that teachers will give more homework and volunteering will take up lots of time and so will homework
wow good use of word choice. That satin shirt made me feel like i was really touching it. I also felt the wanting of the money. I felt happy when you got the money.
One day while I was walking home I stumbled upon a blue jewel. Being the poorest kid in the town I decided to sell it for some extra money. “Maybe I can even have some dinner tonight!” I thought to myself. So I ran to the local meat smith and asked if I could trade the jewel for some meat. I knew this was a risky trade since the meat smith hates my family since my brothers dating his son but I had to try. So I went up to him and asked being the mean guy in town he said no only money!
After that day my jewel hatched and, so I kind of found out that it was an egg, the egg of a rare hero the super cat. The storyteller from the town told me super cats only hatch when they feel there masters a strong master. Slowly day after day I would go to the storyteller for lessons on how to be a great super cat wizard. The next day some travelers told me that they have seen the corn dogs, a group of the evil King Sushi’s minions. That night when I went back home I discovered the whole placed blown up, I knew it was the corndogs I must seek revenge.
For three days and three nights I traveled the forest in search of the evil corndogs, I was beginning to loose hope until I found a bag of there bag of evil mustard. I knew we were almost there! My hope was coming back and so I ran even faster than Naruto, I was a super ninja corndog hater super cat magician. I finally caught up to them and summoned ruby my Super cat to eat them all, with there own mustard too. From that day on I have been fighting with my fellow super cat wizards on stopping King Sushi from his reign of terror.
14 February 2005
It was winter of 2008 and it was time for the tryouts for the soccer season. All me friends and I decided to give it a shot. On the day of the tryouts I felt like I had aced it. I looked at the paper and found out that I made the team but I had made the freshmen team. I was pretty disappointed because all of my friends had made J.V besides me. As time went on we had many losses and a weak amount of wins while J.V was doing great.
Once the season was over the freshmen coach had said “see you next year”. The words killed me, but it was pretty funny. With another year of Frosh Soph as a sophomore we had even more losses and this time was worse. We lost almost every game except one lucky win. The day was raining and the field was very slippery. The rain would also pour into our eyes and our eyelids had to work. Any way, we had a ground shot on the floor and since it was raining, it slipped right the goalie’s hands to our victory. Once our tragic season was over, I was put on J.V as a junior and the worst part was that all my friends had already moved up to varsity.
Once on J.V, the season was going great until we lost to the aggressive Burroughs team 4-1. I had just realized that once we lose a game, the next practice is just running. That practice was awful, sweat dripping, throats dry, and leg aching destroyed all of us awfully. As games went on we hadn’t lost a single game after that, we couldn’t afford it. As the season was over I stepped up to varsity with all of my friends.
To Kevin G.
I liked your story very much. I think that you made the right chioce to do football because you went with what you believed in. The best chioce is the choice you make and not what other people tell you to do.
To Keemlin N.
Your story was really funny. I had T PEED the oak tree at Dana Middle School and got blamed for it. I had to pick up trash while everyone was signing yearbooks. Anyway, your atory was good and i kept me wanting to read it. GOOD JOB! NICE STORY!!!!!
2 years ago, I was fooling around at home with nothing to do. Even though I was supposed to be getting ready for school, it was the second to last day and I was really excited. When I finally left my house to ride my bike to Dana Middle School, I was already late compared to when I usually leave. Rushing, I rode my bike as fast as I could, but I was hit by a car one block away. I couldn’t stop because I was moving too fast and the driver didn’t see me until I was hit.
Luckily, I was left with only a bruise on my right leg, but I had to wait for my parents to take me to school. School was fine, but I was a little “crazy”, playing all sorts of games, and other things. Nothing bad happened during the rest of the day, and the next day, I was going to go camping with my friend, Austin Wang, near the beach. On the car, I was annoying my brother and I was also really impatient, saying things like “Are we there yet? How much longer?” When we finally reached the beach, I had to help my dad put up the tents, but I quickly ran off to go surfing on the waves.
That was a really nice day, but the next day, I sprained my neck while stretching. I couldn’t do anything that I wanted to except sit in the car or lie down on the sand. I guess this was karma for what I had done on the car to my brother. I have regretted this ever since, wasting my summer vacation with a sprained neck and frequently traveling to a chiropractor.
Now, I wasn’t exactly the kind of teenager that enjoyed school. I was more of the “school is the devil” type of teen. Unlike the other people in my class that started cussing and beating themselves up after getting a 90% on their test, I was satisfied with a 62%grade. Of course my parents always nagged me and grounded me for my lack of “effort”, but it never really did anything. Every day after school I would go home, fall on my bed, and listen to some Metallica. Before I would actually close my eyes I look at my backpack and thought…”I’m just gonna take a little nap and then do my homework”, but it never really worked out. After 30 minutes I was in a deep sleep dreaming about setting every school in the world on fire or something else that was about destruction.
The next day at school I found out that there was a new kid in my geometry class. He was smart and when I say smart I mean genius. For some reason I was attracted to him and this was not normal, because I was usually into the quiet guys that smoked weed after school. So without thinking I walked up to him and said in the most utterly corny tone “Hi, I hear that you are new at Arcadia High. I just wanted to say welcome.” And while I said that I was smiling looking like I belonged to The Brady Bunch.
So from that day I started to actually do my homework, pay attention in class, and study just so that Mr. Genius would notice me and my “intelligence”. Unfortunately I didn’t really have much trustworthy friends, so I couldn’t tell anyone of my crush. After a week I couldn’t take it anymore, so that day in Geometry class, I told him that I liked him. When I told him this it was LOUD, because I was so nervous. Everyone was staring and trying to hold in their laugher. He slipped away went to the bathroom. When whe left a girl came up to me and said…”uhhhh...you do know that he’s a 7th grader who skipped two grades right??” All that I could say was “Oh, crap”.
It was a grand sun-drenched day and various friends had encouraged me to go hang out with them and cut school. I couldn’t decide on whether I should go with them, miss school, and lie to my parents, or if I should attend all my mind-numbing classes and stay at school. After turning it over in my head for a couple of minutes I became certain that I would skip school and go with my friends. It’d be entertaining; we could go to the movie theater and slip into some of the movies and purchase a whole bunch of snacks while there. We could go to the mall and visit some stores and buy things and what not. We could walk about and chat and just have a good time. Over all it sounded way better than attending school, at the moment.
Once our parents dropped us off at school, we all met up and strolled off campus. We first went to Gary’s house, which wasn’t too far from Arcadia High, and dropped our backpacks off there. His parents weren’t home and they wouldn’t be home until later in the evening. Then after that we walked and chattered on our way to the mall. We made jokes and snickered and made fun of some people we saw, including a transient. That was probably the most comical part of the day. John had just finished making fun of this homeless man and mimicking him when all of a sudden the transient jumped up and began chasing us bellowing gibberish. John shrieked and we all broke into a sprint. After a few minutes of running, we had run more than an entire block, the transient got tired and quit with a final mumble and grunt. We all stood there quiet and amazed looking at one another for a few seconds and then started laughing some more. We laughed so much and so hard Gary and John got the hiccups while Jim and I got side cramps.
As we continued our journey to the mall Jim found a fifty dollar bill on the ground. He was pretty pleased. We all started to quarrel about whose it was and who saw it first and made a big ol’ scene for all the cars driving by, but then we agreed to spend the fifty dollars at the mall rather than turn it in. As John said, “It was meant for us and was meant to happen.” We went to the mall and browsed at some shoes and clothes. We then went to AMC and watched Hell Boy II. It was pretty good. Then we snuck into another movie. We weren’t as lucky when we tried to sneak into yet another movie. An employee saw us and kicked us out. John offered him ten dollars if he let us stay in for the rest of the movie, but the employee just chuckled. By now it was about 1:30 and we figured we should start heading back for our back packs and then to school so our parents could pick us up. We got back to Gary’s house at about 1:50 and still had some time before we had to get back to school. So we just played with the Wii and the Xbox. At 2:35 we left Gary’s and arrived at school just in time, around 2:45. Now, all we had to do was get to the recording machine at home before our parents and erase the message that would say that we were not in attendance.
Bryan K.— What an excellent story. It sounded as if you had a great time, both you and Jacob just talking. The details really described the friendship between you guys. The only part that I would have liked more detail on is where you were running. It would’ve been nice to have a bit more information in the beginning but otherwise it was a really good story.
Keemlin M.— Your story was very interesting and entertaining. I really liked it. It was short and to the point but with great details so I could picture it all in my mind. I like how you got straight to the thought of pulling a prank to your elementary school. You also had great word choices like “agitation”, “appealing”, and “dexterous”.
THE LIFE I DIDN’T LEAD
Laughs like tinkling bells met my ears; pleated skirts rustled in the gentle breeze, a crinkling sound, like wind rushing through the trees. The sharp clack of expensive shoes clicked against fresh, newly-paved cement. I opened my eyes. Girls with golden hair and sky-blue eyes tugged at their crisp, white blouses, straightening out their ribbons, smoothing their already perfect locks. They waved at me with their dainty hands and manicured nails, which glinted in the sunlight. I pushed myself off the ground, grabbed my purse, and brushed the clinging grass off my clothes.
It was hot today, humid, a cloying heat that stuck to our skin. “I’m bored,” my best friend remarked, pursing her glazed lips, glossed to perfection. Small beads of perspiration rolled down her temples; she wiped them off absent-mindedly and pulled a stiff book out of her bag.
“Go Ask Alice,” I read, “Hey, I remember this!”
Giggling, she plucked a plastic packet from her shirt pocket. “Yeah, and guess what I got! You won’t believe it!”
“Oh my god!”
“Where did you get that?!”
“How did you manage to pay for it?!”
I snatched her hand in a panic, hissing, “Will you guys be quiet?!” Instantly, my friends snapped their mouths shut, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. My fingers were shaking. “What are you doing with this stuff?” Tossing her hair back, she huffed, narrowing her eyes at me, not speaking. I glared at her, nails digging into her wrist, angry red marks surfacing on her flawless flesh. “We’re at a park! At five o’clock in the afternoon! Are you crazy?” Suddenly, she wrenched her arm out of my grasp and spilt some of the bag’s contents onto the book.
“C’mon, try it. Just a little,” she whispered, rolling up a bill.
“No,” I spat, “I shouldn’t. Really, I should be slapping some sense into you.”
“But you want to.” She grinned up at me, all pearly teeth, a Cheshire cat. “You’re curious. No one’s here anyway.”
“Fine by me.” She closed her cobalt eyes and inhaled.
When I returned to the realm of consciousness, I didn’t remember much. A blur of colors, faces, shapes, maybe. I have faint memories of jumbled words, something about people and grilled cheese sandwiches. I recall noise, too much of it: car horns honking, drivers swearing, the screeching of tires. Screams upon screams upon screams. Flashing red greets my unfocused gaze; I see snippets of motion, yellow, white, and black forms swim across my sight. I blink, once, twice, three times, recognizing the smell of copper, the taste of it in my mouth. Slowly, I turn my head. A long, blood-stained sheet lies over a still body, a pale hand with brightly colored nails peeking out from under the fabric. Go Ask Alice lies awkwardly on the rough asphalt, facing up, opened to the last page.
I woke up that bright and early morning because of course it was October 13, my birthday. Springing right out of bed to get ready, I remembered that today was the day I go to do my final touches for my party with my 2 best friends. I made sure that my parents weren’t going to be home the upcoming weekend because I knew that they just wouldn’t understand why I wanted this party so bad. So first things first I called my two friends, Hunter and Sabrina, and made sure that they remembered about the meeting, and to make sure that we had a ride to the planners house.
The whole week went by as fast as road runner. It was already the day of my party and my phone was ringing non-stop. People were calling asking if they were on the list, if they could bring friends and alcohol, and if they could come early. My answers to all of those questions of course were,” yeah” and, “no earlier than 5”. You know, “the regular”. I just couldn’t wait any more. My parents would be leaving for San Francisco at 4 and all my guests were due to arrive at 7. I planned that out extra careful because I knew I’d need a lot of time to set up my big house and to get myself and my friends ready.
With my parents gone, along with my brother who I personally took to my grandparent’s house, my guests began to overflow into my house like a three year-old trying to pour his own milk. I was having so much fun and I had no regrets on anything. Until it started to reek like someone was smoking in my house. I went all around asking people who it was, and they were no help at all. Then people started to get really rowdy like they were in a mush pit or something. They were throwing the alcohol all over my mother’s favorite sofa, people were in the rooms upstairs, and then I found the people smoking. It wasn’t just cigarettes; I saw a bag out drugs in the center of the”smoking circle” in my room. All the while the deejay started to bump the music blasting it so loud my parents in San Francisco could probably hear it.
I couldn’t do anything anymore. I had let it get way out of hand. Thoughts were racing through my head. Questions even god couldn’t help me with anymore. How would I clean this up? This was supposed to be fun. What would I tell my parents about the damage and the smell? My vision started to blur as people walked by complementing me and the party. All I could smell was the drenched carpet covered in mud and soaked in booze. Then to make it all worse, I heard police sirens.
It’s been 4 months since my “extravagant” party and here I am doing my hours. I got kicked off of the soccer team and can never play again, according to my parents. I’m basically grounded till I graduate, and I can’t go out anymore, not with my family, not with my boyfriend, and not even with my 2 best friends since kindergarten. I knew I shouldn’t have thrown me my own quincenera and now that I didn’t listen to my gut, I’m at the lowest point of my life. I can’t even use my phone or any phone on that matter. I could’ve just asked my parents to have a party. They told me while I was locked up in that rat smelling cell that night, that they wouldn’t have minded throwing me one. But now I lost my parents trust, my social life, my dignity, and the sport I love most, all for just a night where I thought I could shine. Now I’m just that dull far away star that no one recognizes any longer.
My Alternate Life
"Time to wake up Gabriel" called mom. "You wouldn't want to miss school." I slowly drag myself out of bed and stumble into the bathroom to take a look at myself. Acne: better than usual (only slightly inflamed), hair: a huge bush, a mess, and, eyes: red from excess computer time with huge black bags under them from lack of sleep. All in all, I look fine. "Gabo get down here", yelled mom using her pet name for me.
Before school starts I stop by the library to return my books and then jog off to see my friends. It is with them that I feel best. They all call me Gabriel or Grandmaster G because of my formidable Starwars collection. They can hold a real conversation. " Dude, Call of Duty Five had better be good". "Oh it will be. They're bringing back the helicopter". "Naw man I think the dogs were a good effect and weren't as cheap as the helicopter"." Bleep You! (they actually say bleep) if you get enough kills for a Heli it should be cheap."
School starts and as usual I must secretly enjoy it. In all my classes I would love to speak out but I don't. I don't want people looking at me or thinking I am a geek, although I know they do anyways. Thankfully, we have a test in second period. I love tests. I enjoy pitting myself against the teacher in a silent test of knowledge and memory. I usually win these battles and today is no exception. The bell is now ringing and excitement is bubbling up in me just as frustration arises in those few who have yet to finish the test. Theater my favorite class is about to start.
I adore theater. In this class I am respected as a superior almost godly being. I practice accents all day and read quotes all night. Theater and W.O.W (World of Warcraft) are my two true loves with the first being slightly stronger. I almost skip to class everyday causing my least preferred nickname "Prancing Pony". Today we talk about dramas for most of class, and then do warm ups, and the bell rings.
During lunch my friends and I either play Dungeons and Dragons or argue about something. Today was DND day and we launch into a huge interact land of heroes and monsters. Being the co-founder of this alternate version of the game does have its perks and my imagination runs wild on my friends who enjoy it just as much. Lunch flies by, as does my other classes, and Mom picks me up.
After all my homework is done and I have worn out my Youtube arsenal as well as W.O.W's entertainment features, I go up to my room and play X-box. Hours pass while I rank up my "Live Status" and in between battles my mind starts to wander. First it goes to girls, then my favorite movies, back to girls, then waffles (I don't know why), girls, then Little Shop of Horrors -the play I am doing- until I fall asleep dreaming of …well, you can guess what.
English 9 – Period 4
One day, during the middle of this school year, I was walking through the hallways when I came upon a shocking tryouts notice sheet down the main hallway; golf tryouts. Throughout the whole year, this single decision had been ringing in my head vibrantly, golf or baseball? At this time, I was already in the 6th period baseball program and was highly certain to make the seasonal team. I was also strong in making the golf team, but hadn’t tried out yet. I knew this because when I was talking to the golf coach, he said has seen my scores in competition play.
When I had finished my tryouts for golf, my golf coach said I had qualified for the team if I choose to play golf for the season. The moment of truth was almost here for me to decide which sport I would end up choosing for my spring sport. Both sports seemed equally well in accepting me into the team, and both seemed very enjoyable. I was thinking about how the season would go with all my teammates, which team I would be placed on, and how much time I would be playing. I was so paranoid, that the slightest bit of annoyance drove me furious with rage. As a final decision came to certainty, I ended up choosing baseball.
When everyone heard that I was doing golf, all my golf friends thought I was a loser, everyone on the baseball team thought I was smarter than ever, and all my coaches seemed like they never cared which sport I even chose. When spring season started, I ended up playing on the freshman team. Since we had 3 teams, JV and freshman had to practice later on in the day. As the season went by, our team wounded up undefeated during the season and won the league championship game by 1 run. I never would have expected such milestone, but yet am still curious about the other choice.
Eric F. – This was a really well written experience about sports. I really enjoyed how your tone went from pure anger and frustration to compassion and respect. I also really enjoyed how you learned how to respect a sport, even though it’s commonly made fun of. It’s also funny how you said you ended up as good as your mentor in just one round.
Keemlin N. – As a friend, I don’t think you would have the guts to do that, but was a well brought up story. The tone in the beginning seemed to be a joyful and honorable feeling, and then drifted into regret. I like how you realize that you’ve done something wrong and learn from it. Overall I thought the story was well.
A couple months ago, my phone was stolen and I was really pissed off about it. It was partially my fault because i had left it out when I was changing out of my P.E. clothes. I didn't notice it was missing until the end of third period. I rushed back to the locker room; my phone was nowhere to be seen. The anger I felt, it was indescribable. No one has ever stolen anything from me before, and i have never stolen anything from anyone. At the time, I just wanted to find out who the person was. I asked around, and I found out who had taken it.
The person, was someone I didn't know, but someone that i was going to get to know. I couldn't do anything at school, so I asked around , and waited for him after school. While he was walking home, I followed him in my friend's car. He was big, and had a very intimidating facial espression. I got out of that car, and yelled his name. He quickly turned around, and suddenly decided to run away. I mean, who cound blame him, I would run to if someone with a gun followed me home and screamed my name in anger.
There was no turning back, if I did this, my life would change drastically. But none of that mattered, he took what I valued, and that was it. I got out of the car, aimed the gun toward him, and blasted away several times before he fell to the ground. I ran to where his body lay, stepping into a growing pool of blood. I took someone's life, over a materialistic object. My friend, called to me out of his car, and said that he had just gotten a text message. It read as follows " Tell Wesley I have his phone; I was just messing around when i said that " " had it :]." It took me a minute to process what had just occured. When I realized what I had done, I slowly clipped the gun, put it to my forehead, and as my friend attempted to get out of the car, i pulled the trigger.
When I was four years old I had a choice that turned out to be a life changing decision. Had I not started gymnastics my life would be completely different. I wouldn’t have competed in the Junior Olympics for five years in a row. I wouldn’t have made the friends I did when I was on the team. I wouldn’t have had all the experiences of traveling around the country. However, what would I have done?
I would’ve filled my free time with competitive soccer. This would’ve given me different friends, and different places to travel. There would be many intense hours of training every week. I would be in excellent shape and having a great time. Who knows, I may even win trophies.
If I train hard enough and compete well enough, I could get a college scholarship. I would enjoy going to school with fewer student loans. Maybe after four year of college training and competition I may consider going professional or taking my confidence and discipline and pursuing a successful career. I may make a descent amount of money and lead a financially comfortable life.
In the beginning of my freshman year i made a bunch of new friends and a bunch of enemies. Actually not a lot of enemies just two seniors i knew from the past. I made the varsity tennis team my freshman year and they didn't think i should've. They made me their little dog by making me go get water for the team and getting the equipment.
I was sick of this so i told my big brother and my other senior friends. They were upset too because seniors picking on freshman's is a very immature thing. So my senior friends told me to tell the two seniors that mess wit me to meet at the parking lot after school. At first they thought okay what is a little freshman going to do, but they were oh so wrong my older senior friends are pretty scary people.
So we met at the parking lot and i had about seven seniors behind me and the two seniors were by them selves. As soon as i saw them i went for it punching them kicking them and basically giving them a brand new face. My senior friends didn't even have to jump in i handled both of the seniors by myself i mean they put up a good fight but at the end i was victorious. After the fight they seniors were bleeding like lava and they're eyes were the size of oranges.
To Wesley Feng.
I enjoyed ur story but it was very very non believe able coming from a person like you. We all know you would never have the guts to do something like that.
To Wendy Wang.
Ur story was quite fun to read you always write good stories and they're very well thought out.
“Well?” my father impatiently asked. My eyes nervously roamed all over the room, looking for something to focus on—anywhere but his annoyed, frustrated eyes. I finally stared down at the blank wall in front of me, as if there was something very interesting. What a way to escape.
The scenario was quite ridiculous and important at the same time, I should say. Our ‘family’ (father and sister) apparently wanted a new dog. I should have seen that coming by now, but somehow I was quite blind to it. I was fine with having a new dog… no, my father and sister were fine with having another dog. My mother and I weren’t. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the adorable creatures, I loved them actually, but… considering the fact that they cannot clean after themselves and are very messy, having one dog seemed to be tiring enough. To make matters worse, my mother and I did most of the cleaning. We were already behind on our schedules because of it—what would happen if there was another living creature in the house?
“Make a decision before I come back,” my father sighed as his presence left the room. The tension eased up, and my tight position transformed into a slump. This was not fair. Why was everything pressured onto me? Why did I always have to make the final decision? Why can we not go with the “majority rules” voting technique? WHY ME?
I groaned and shut my eyes as I felt a sharp tug on my sleeve. My sister—it has to be. I mentally told myself never to look at her, because I was clearly aware of the consequences if I did. What a big mistake—it seems I forgot another one of my mental notes. Ignoring is a quiet strategy I can handle, but is an ‘evil rival that must be defeated’, when it comes to my sister. Okay, I ignored her, and in the end, I—with the word ‘defeated’ written all over my face—forced my head to turn and look at her. I can never, EVER, reject her pout, can I?
The dark night towered above the glowing city. The tense air in the car made it hard to breathe. I composed myself to be expressionless, yet in my mind, it was chaotic. Excited much? Probably everybody was. Silence danced in the air, and the empty, mysterious streetlights paved an endless road to our destination. My thoughts wandered to the new creature as I drew the unknown puppy, tracing the cold, icy air with my fingertips. The bright city floated away from us, the night spreading its wings until it touched the ends of the sky. I closed my eyes tightly, capturing the moment in my head, afraid that if I open my eyes, it would all be another one of those dreams that vanish into thin air with no trace of proof that it was real, except maybe in your memories. This was a dream, wasn’t it?
“We’re here.” My eyes fluttered open. Since when was I sleeping? The bitter wind lashed into the car as the doors clicked open. The warmth tried to lull me back to sleep, but I could care less. My eyes darted around my new surroundings, and quickly noted that this was not any ordinary pet store. The tall trees cast dark shadows under the soft light of the eerie moon. From my point of view, I could see the river, and the road which I assumed that we had taken to come up here—we were at the mountains. As I was inspecting the scene, I noticed my family being taken to some garden-looking like place. Carefully and silently, I followed them to opening, only to see six ‘cages’ and fifteen barking, overjoyed dogs.
As I was slowly making a recovery from the surprising event that I had just experienced, I took a stroll in front of each of the ‘cages’ studying each puppy carefully. They were all adorable, each with lovable, fluffy ears and large innocent eyes. I pet each one and lightly teased them with their favorite toys, wondering how I will ever choose ONE to take home. It wasn’t long before reached a certain cage. I stopped in front of it, and immediately kneeled down on the soft soil. As if on cue, the creature swished its long, graceful tail and made its way towards me. The pure, white coat shone brightly under the dim moonlight, as it tilted its head slightly to the right and stared at me. In an instant, I was mesmerized by his large, playful eyes.
“Do you like him?” The owner quietly made his way next to me.
“I-I…” My stutter was horrible. Embarrassing, actually but nothing mattered right now. I tore my gaze away from the puppy’s amused expression as I looked over to my parents’ smiling faces.
I quietly stroked the dog’s snow-white fur, and softly caressed its head, while an unknown smile played on my face. The car ride was silent, once again, but this time, a hint of happiness lingered in the air. Who knew that this creature would be my best friend in less than a week?
Nice detail. You had some nice usage of adjectives. The story wasn't overly elaborate, and was easy to follow. You do have some very minor grammar mistakes though. All in all, a nice narrative.
Looking up at the menu above the cashier’s head, I thought about how little money I had left in my wallet. Sighing, I stepped aside, shrugged, and let the person behind me step up to make their order. The theater was crowded, so I struggled to make my way to my dad. I found him checking out posters of new movies. He looked over and noticed that I didn’t buy the snacks. Being the money-saving Asian dude that he is, he just looked surprised, but didn’t say anything.
We walked to the numbered theater that matched our tickets and found seats near the back. The movie was a relatively new one, so it was pretty packed. I surveyed the seating arrangements. There was a man sitting next to me, and no one sitting on front of me. I propped my feet up with a smile as the movie started. After about forty minutes, hunger gnawed at my stomach, and I started to regret not buying the snacks. I looked to my right, at the man witting next to me, and then at all the food he had lying in his tray. I looked at his face, and saw that he was totally mesmerized by the movie. I snuck a hand under and took a snickers bar. As I was doing so, my hand bumped into his cup and soda spilled all over his pants.
He turned to look at me, and started shouting. That scared the crap out of me, and I ran as fast as I could to the front rows, and sat down, trying to look innocent. Apparently, he was more interested in getting dry than beating me to a pulp, and so, made his way out of the theater. My dad took this opportunity to come to the front. He grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of the room, and out of the theater. As we reached the parking lot, he yelled at me about what I did.
“Go, Big, RED!” The song girls, cheerleaders, and flag girls all yelled in unison, one fist in the air and the other on their waist with the stadium lights shining on their face. Then Touchdown! And the pep band blasted with music as the song girls twirled, leaped, and smiled from ear to ear. I sat on the football bleachers watching the pep squad perform at half time and thought to myself: If only I hadn’t, then I could’ve been down there dancing as happily as them.
Back in March, I made the Varsity Song team, but decided not to stay on. The following school year I would be a brand new, naive freshmen at AHS, and I didn’t want any activities to come across my work habits. Having their practice everyday until close to sunset would mean homework comes after dinner, which could turn my bed time to 12 midnight. Now, at school, my best friends, who are in cheer, would have some interesting story, but I wouldn’t know who or what they were talking about. All this spicy gossip, I couldn’t understand or be a part of.
It seemed as if they had so much fun, yet there was still nagging and complaints, which didn’t make sense to me. “Ugh, my body is sore,” or “Gosh! I have no life now!” they would complain. They only “had no life,” because Friday nights were always game nights. Sitting in the stands, I would rather be a pep leader, so I can cheer freely instead of embarrassing myself in a cheerless and anti-spirited crowd. I guess when cheerleaders say they have no life is that they spent Halloween night cheering and putting together a haunted house, but I would still rather be with them on those nights of endless hours.
When I quit the Song team, I didn’t realize I would be leaving a family of tradition and fun times. Seeing their smiles at games and hearing their stories only make me regret that decision more. This March there’s tryouts for the 09-10’ team, so now I will go finish up my tryout applications.
Keemlin: Your story had a few nice descriptive words like dexterous, and agitation. It's good to know that you regret doing something like that, and I don't think that prank was that great and amazing. It was interesting to read. The story seemed very realistic.
Wendy: This was an interesting piece… it seems to only happen in T.V. shows or movies. The only part I wouldn’t really believe is when your mom “hired a private investigator.” That looks like your mom was being very nosy. I don’t think this story was much of YOUR decision, it looks like more your sister’s decision.
Towards the end of 8th grade, everyone was given a paper to fill out for the upcoming year classes they would take. When I got home, both my parents and brother told me what classes to take. I didn’t know anything better to do with my choices, so I agreed to their decision. The classes I ended up were all the required classes with Biology and Music. When my freshmen year started, I assumed the high school classes couldn’t be much harder than middle school classes.
Like the lazy person I am, I did everything I was told in class and out. I did my homework normally like I would back in middle school – messing around first and then homework next. I had no idea that the homework could be that hard, and at the start of the year, they weren’t. The end of the first semester neared and my grades were average – A-‘s. When the semester finals came, I thought I could pull off at least a B or an A, so I hardly studied. I put my personal life first and didn’t study, or hardly.
Finals finished and I thought I did a decent job, at least. I was totally wrong. I failed most of my tests. Because of this, they brought my grades down, terrible. When my report card came, I was ashamed to show my parents my grades. I was always a good student but I had really blown it this time. Not only that but when I saw my brother’s grades, they were perfect A’s, and my parents were dying to see my grades since I had told them before that I had A’s in my classes. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what I had received so I shredded the card before my parents could see it. I was really punished by then. I had learned one thing from all of this – to change my horrible habit or to not procrastinate at all.
#2 Tiffany S. on 2009-02-14 15:31
Your story is very convincing. I like how you made me feel like it was a real story. The way you put your feelings in and your thoughts really tell me that its seriously believable. All in all, great job!
#3 Kahao L. on 2009-02-14 16:59
Like Tiffany's story, your story also made me feel as if you really did steal the guitar. If I were you, I would have probably felt really guilty about stealing it and would've taken it back to the band room. I can imagine you taking it and feeling everything you mentioned in the story. It was really believable!
My alternate life:
It was a sunny Friday morning as I sat in Mrs. Sismondo’s first period English class. The bell just rang a few minutes ago and we were all chatting with our friends about our homework from the night before. As sound of our morning announcement came on the intercom, our loud conversations quieted down so we could listen. Today, the kids reading the announcements were chipper and giggly as they read off the important news and details of informational meetings for clubs. As they begin to read about the sports and tryout dates, I heard them mention a Pepsquad informational meeting for all new members for year 08-09 at AHS’s Little Theatre. I’ve been waiting for the tryouts for a while now and it was finally here. When I heard about the Pepsquad tryouts, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if I was to be in cheer. My friend Alison, from my church, was cheer captain and I always remember seeing her in her uniform when she would drop by late at night on Fridays when our meetings were already over. I wondered why she joined cheer in the first place if she knew that she couldn’t make it to church on Fridays. I would feel so guilty if I missed church just for football or basketball games since my dad is a pastor and I’ve been going to church my whole life.
So when my best friend asked me later that day at lunch if I was going to tryout for cheer, I replied with a no. I told her I wanted to concentrate on my schoolwork for freshmen year so I could get used to the homework load and high school. I also mentioned that I would have to skip church if I were to join, and church was really fun, so I didn’t want to miss it. She understood and told me that she was planning on trying out, but she won’t if I wasn’t going to. Of course I told her that if she really wanted to, then she should just do it, not just because I was going to do it. So that was that, and we went on with our day. Some girls from drill team at dance practice later that day also came up to me, asking if I was going to try out. Answering them with the same explanation I gave my friend earlier, I felt satisfied with my response and thought I made a pretty good decision.
So as I graduated 8th grade and came into high school with a new, clean slate, I planned my freshmen year out to be all just hard work and studying. As my freshmen year went by, my friends that joined cheer told me about how much work they had to do and how they had practice everyday till 5, in addition to practicing 6th period. They told me about the games that they went to on Friday nights, how fun they were, yet how tiring it was to stand for 6 hours straight. Stunting was the worst, they told me. All the things they did and how hard Mrs.E pushed them sometimes to do the most impossibly scary new stunts. I was glad I didn’t join and I felt relieved on Friday nights, when I knew I was at church having fun while if I were in cheer, I would be cheering, stunting, and standing at football/basketball games. And although the assemblies Pepsquad put on, and the rallies they did at lunch were really spectacular and made me want to join all over again, the regret that came after that decision I made was not worth it. There’s always the good and the bad in every decision people make, but I believed that I chose the better decision for myself.
Tiffany S - You're story was very convincing and it attracted me the most. I can personally relate to it because something like it happened to me too. I could feel what you were feeling in your tone. I really liked it.
Wesley Feng - It was really funny and it seemed real in the first paragraph. It started sounding unbelievable towards the ending though. Overall, it was a good story, but if you shot yourself ... how would you be able to write this.
The choice had to make was choosing to buy my self a new guitar or helping my friend buy a Vx 2000 which was a Hi Def camera he need to buy to use when we film skate boarding. He is A sponsored skate boarder which meant a store gave him free clothes skate boards and shoes and all he had to do was skate in them and rep them to other kids and he needed to help film for the board shop. The shop was called boards. They wanted a skate video show they could sell and help promote the name of the shop. Any Way he ended up asking for 100 dollars to buy this camera it had very good quality I gave it to him as a loan to pay back. In the end he ended paying back almost the 100 dollars. I really don’t regret it all right he’s making his first video and hopefully will be on sale soon and the best part about the whole thing is I’m his new filmier. So I guess I’m glad I got the guitar and I help out my best friend. I thought in over all it was a good choice.
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