Waiting in the Emergency Room...

The lady next to me seemed to be staring at me and everyone else who was injured or ill, which was everyone in this room except her. She seemed unfazed by all the sight of open wounds, blood and all the germs that must be flying around coming from the coughing man in the corner of the room. I wondered why she was here. She was so strange.

She stared at me again, this time not taking her eyes off me after I glanced back at her. Why was I so interesting to her? Of all injured people, my injury was not the least bit severe. If it were up to me I wouldn’t even be here right now. I didn’t think it was necessary but my mother insisted. She finally spoke. I was startled by her voice interrupting my thoughts. I didn’t really hear her and I am sure my face showed my confusion as she repeated herself.

“Why are you here?”

“Uh…” I was caught off guard by her direct question. “I, uh, I was bit by a dog” Her jaw dropped in amazement. Why was that so hard to believe? The man who hadn’t stopped coughing seemed like he was going to vomit his insides out. I wasn’t even bleeding anymore.

“Did it hurt?”

This lady was too curious. I was unsure if I should actually continue this conversation with her. I couldn’t be rude though. But I really hoped someone would interrupt us. My mom had gone to the bathroom and she was taking a while so hopefully she would pop back in here really, really soon. “Didn’t hurt too much. Its just sore right now.”

She stared at me some for about a minute before asking another question. “How did it happen?”

I seriously did not want to be here. I wanted to go to home right now. “I ran past the dog and it bit me.” I tried not to sound too annoyed. That was the simplest way to say it.

“That’s it?” She wanted more details. Details weren’t something I wanted to give up. I didn’t want to tell the stranger about one of my scariest moments of my life. I suddenly turned the tables.

“Why are you here?” My right eyebrow raising to seem more interested. She was caught off guard by my sudden curiosity. She quickly composed herself and prepared to speak.

“I am a nurse at this hospital but I am not working a shift right now. I like to come by on my free time and talk to those who need someone the most. I want to distract everyone from there sudden pain.”

My heart dropped. I felt terrible. By the way, where was my mother?

“Oh. Well that’s nice of you,” I replied.

After that there were about five minutes of silence. Something I was enjoying and finding peaceful. My mom had come back already but she had to go fill out some paperwork. Again, her voice startled me.

“So, are you going to tell me how this happened?”

I was indecisive. I was very tempted to say no but I didn’t sense any bad in the was she spoke to me. I opened my mouth to speak, about to tell her how everything happened but I couldn’t speak.

“Uh. Hmm. I, I’m not really sure how it happened. It was just how I said earlier. I ran past it and next thing I knew it bit me.”

“What kind of dog? And why were you running past it?” I guess she noticed my change in attitude.

“Pitbull.” That’s right. I got bit by a pitbull. It wasn’t that bad. Everyone will gasps or look at me with wide eyes but it wasn’t bad. “And it was my first day of cross country practice and we were running our warm up around the park when it happened.” I finished to answer her second question. We sat there and she kept me company until my mom came back.

My mom looked upset. “They said you should be fine. We didn’t need to come.” Her eyes looked down.

“Its okay mom. I didn’t mind coming,” I said while looking at my new buddy.

Short Story #2

I was furious, frustrated and frantic. Those were the words that I could use to express myself. He had already come unexpectedly and changed my home. He was an unwelcomed guest in my eyes. He had no right to get to know me. He was just a guy I met a few years ago. A guy that had a bad reputation in my head. This was all too new to me.

His newest idea just threw me overboard. I was furious, frustrated and frantic. Worst of all I was unable to express anything to my mother because I did not want her to think I was unsupportive of her irreversible actions. Its not as if I could even talk to her alone for more than a second. He was everywhere. He was not mindful of the relationship I had built with my mother. I was of course still angry about the way they handled the sudden news.

He had made so many changes around the house that I could not bear to see my life suddenly become someone else’s. I could not bear to see the life I had built with my mother just slip away. My thoughts were no more. My opinions were no longer part of the decisions made. I was lost.

I was furious, frustrated and frantic. I had no other words in my head to express my thoughts as I had to pass by him. I couldn’t stand to look at him. His efforts to stay oblivious to the matter were slowly slipping away from him. I was making it difficult. His witty jokes weren’t making me laugh anymore. He was annoying me.

Every little thing about him was bugging me. His voice never ceased to make noise. His heavy footsteps across the hall. His attitude. His music that he blasted. His mocking faces and noises as he tried to mimic my mother and me. I was unable to handle this as he brought up the latest subject that infuriated me, frustrated me and made me frantic. 

The tree. The tree outside my house. The gift that the creator of the world gave us. No one could deny this beauty. This was a part of my childhood, my life and this earth. What right had we to change that? The tree was life. The tree was my imagination. I spent hours many summer days sitting up there, thinking as I looked out to the city skyline. That was my place for safety, shelter and goodness. I was surrounded by my good thoughts in that tree. As any negative thoughts tried to creep into my head, I would lift my head to adore the view I could only get from up top.

I could not imagine why he wanted to get rid of it. I had no idea what motive would cause such a horrid thought. Most of all I could not believe he had the nerve to bring it up during dinner, in front of me. My mother had been the bearer of bad news so far, showing me just how courageous he truly was. But he caught me off guard. He spoke the words that I dreaded hearing.

“The tree will be cut down in a couple weeks. I scheduled a day with the city already,” his words pierced through me. My heart raced. My eyes watered. My lip quivered. My body fighting every temptation of giving in at that very moment. I fought. However, I quickly gave up. I turned to my mother, my jaw still dropped as I stared at her in disbelief. I could not believe she had agreed. I was furious, frustrated and frantic.

Short Story #1

Abigail. Abigail was the girl's name. She was sixteen years old. She had short red hair and grey eyes. She sat in the back of her classroom by the window. She sat there staring out the window as it rained lightly outside and the cars drove by her school building.

Abigail was an organized girl. She kept a tight schedule almost never going out of routine. She was always prepared for everything and always planned for the unexpected. Always the same meals. Same hairdo. She listened to her music in the same order. Same shoes. Everything was a routine for her. Abigail's room was picture perfect. Nothing ever moved half a centimeter out of its place. Abigail was a very intelligent young girl. She was way ahead of the others in her class. She was part of one of the most rigorous summer programs in the nation. She also was able to maintain a job all year long. A paid internship. She worked at a law firm in the heart of downtown.

Everyone thought that she was happy. She thought she was happy. She never lacked anything. Abigail was not much of a talker. She had a tendency to sit back and watch others around her. Although, she did not talk much she definitely always had something to say about everything. She was very observant of her surroundings at all times. She noticed everything that happened around her. She thought about everything she saw. She would wonder all kinds of things. She would sit and think. She was always by herself because she wanted to be able to think. Thinking about anything and everything was her best quality. Unless it is not a quality she wanted to possess.

As she sat staring at the rain, her thoughts went to her teacher’s voice. Her chemistry teacher spoke of atoms and molecules. Abigail moved her eyes away from the window to look at the screen in front of the room. The diagrams on the screen told Abigail that today’s lesson was about how atoms bonded and the different types of bonds. Abigail had already read the chapter in her textbook that covered this material. After a few seconds of looking at the screen, Abigail turned back to look out the window.

She could hear the voices of her classmates who thought they were unnoticeably quiet. They were talking about the new kid who just moved to Chicago from California. Abigail still had not seen this boy was compared to a god. Abigail was not much for gushing over guys. She thought there was no point if they were not going to notice her anyway.  She thought that they were just being incredibly annoying. Abigail just wanted them to shut their mouths so that later they would not complain about their low grade on the quiz they had on the material the next day.

Abigail had her own thoughts to worry about. She recently went to the doctor. Her mother was worried about Abigail because she kept complaining about her bones in her legs hurting. When the doctor asked about the family history with any diseases Abigail said that there were none. Before Abigail could leave with her mom the doctor asked her mom. She hesitated. Her eyes watered. She felt terrible. Abigail’s mom confessed that a couple family members had struggled from osteosarcoma, a cancer in the bones.

           It had become increasingly difficult for Abigail to keep up with her routines as she waited day by day for the test results. She was unable to keep her mind off the possibility that she may have to struggle with such pain the rest of her life. Abigail’s eyes brimmed with moisture threatening to pour over the edge. Abigail shut her eyes and listened to all the noises around her. She heard Mike tapping his pen against the desk. The girls were still talking about the new boy. Chris’s soft snores could be heard next to Abigail. She was not comforted by the noises going on around her but she forced herself to sleep. Something she never allowed herself to do during class. Abigail was desperate to shut her thoughts off.

A Principle To Live By...

A principle as defined by Google is a rule or belief governing one's personal behavior. One principle I try to live by is forgive others and myself. Forgiveness is a difficult thing for people to accomplish.

There are many reasons to be forgiving. I have learned that although some people may not necessarily deserve forgiveness I have to forgive them for my own sake. I always have to remember that people are going to make mistakes because mistakes are in our nature. People can and will do hurtful things intentionally but forgiveness is still possible. I do not think there is any benefit from holding a grudge. The only thing that makes anyone is an angry and bitter person. Forgiveness is a strong and powerful thin that can better you as a person but it is hard learn and act on. Forgiveness is a principle that I have been working towards since a young age every time I felt hurt or attacked by anyone. The hardest person to forgive is always myself. When I make a mistake I just drill myself and question how and why I made a mistake when I should know better. I spend days and sometimes weeks, depending on what I did, trying to tell myself that I am okay and that next time will be different. I just don't believe myself all the time so it takes a while.

To conclude, forgiveness is a principle I will fight to keep in my life. I will teach my children how to be forgiving so they can hopefully pass it on, but definitely no children until I am 36!

I Am Thankful For...

I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for many people. I greatly enjoy my english class too! But there is that one person in this class that just has become a good friend in the past two months! 

Amanda Huerta has been just great! We have bonded over the journey of our very long, tiring and tedious Rube Goldberg project. We worked hard to come up with great ideas for the project but during that we also got to know each other a little. I think our greatest shared liking is food! We both enjoy eating a lot. When you find out that you share a love for food like Amanda and I have nothing can stop us. We are perfect for each other! Amanda is a great person who is fun to be around, she is always cracking jokes. I can be open with her, there is no need to be shy around her! She almost went home with a new younger brother after our project was complete! She is just so caring and loving!


What more could I ask for?! I am super thankful for her! Without her there would be no complete project. There is a smile on my face everyday because of Amanda! :)

I Celebrate Myself!

According to Mr. McCarthy I should be channeling my inner Whitman, Thoreau & Emerson. As transcendentalists they thought that they believed that religion and government tainted the purity of an individual. Well I guess that would mean that I am tainted, well not completely. 

I celebrate myself as I am. I am a strong believer and follower of my religion but I do not let that get in the way of my life. Although some of my choices and ideas are influenced by my religion,  I will always have a reasons for those not influenced by religion and government. I even think some things that, according to my mother is "unchristianly" like. I feel that if we were all to live strictly by religion and even by the government we would all be uninteresting and boring.

I like to believe that I am unique. I celebrate myself for being unique! I have set out to be a strong, independent young lady and I feel like I have accomplished that. Since a young age, I have wanted to prove my family wrong of so much. They have always had a set idea of the role of a woman, that is to cook, clean and tend to the men of the house. That always angered me because I knew I was better than that. So far I am on my way to a very successful life that will allow me to have my own career. But thanks to them I still have all the skills they have, but now I am acquiring more skills. I have set goals for myself and to prove certain people wrong. I always like a challenge. I know that my personality is only growing stronger and stronger, day by day. I celebrate myself for not giving up every time I felt like everything in my life was disappearing from me. I know that I cannot just drop everything the second life gets hard because many people have gone through worse and have come out of their situations with just so much success. I cannot give up because I would not be where I am right now if I had given up at some point in my life. 

I celebrate myself for not always being tainted by my community and society. I celebrate myself for being a strong and independent young lady. I Celebrate Myself! 

Poe.

Edgar Allan Poe is a great poet and author. His pieces are marvelous creations. They do have their creepy details though. 

After doing a little bit of research on Poe, I have found a couple life events that could have caused him to right these dark stories. As a child he did not have his parents around. His father ran out on the family when he was just an infant. His mother sadly passed away when Poe was just three years old. So he didn’t know his parents. Soon after his mother’s death, he was stripped of the rest of his family. He was sent to a couple in Virginia. As he grew up with the couple, he bonded with his adoptive mother Frances. He studied at the University of Virginia. When he came back home he found out that his financée was involved with another man. So he left his parents’ home.

His early life had some major events that could really be the reason behind his dark stories. If this is true then the sadness that came to him is what drove him to write great poems and stories. But he still achieved great success, even after death!