Why

Why do they hate me why do they run. Why can't they ever let me have some fun. Whenever I say a word they taunt me and say. "Who wants to know what you think anyway". And when I get angry and extremely mad. Their run away too and again I'll be sad. [eople are cruel to me nasty and mean. When honestly and truely I'm just being me. They act like I've done something horible and wrong. When I tell other people I don't like my mom. My friend are so so few, but I'm glad for each one. But their all in school now at least their having fun. I sit in this darkness holding back tears. As the faint sounds of memories echo in my ears. I thought it would be sImple easy and fun. Now I wish everyday that I could stand up and run. But there's no place to run to, no place to stay. So I sit here and face their crap everyday. I know my parents don't want me I hear them say that they don't. Will they ever tell it to my face, no they won't. My house smells like smoke and sadness and pain. You know your lifes bad when you thank god for the rain. The memories of my childhood haunt me like ghost in the night. I pick up Kurama and cling to him tight. Because she's all I have for now, my only sheild from this hurt. And the tears now traveling from my face to my shirt. One day my whole life will finally be ok. But this just can't happen till he's here to stay. My safe haven, my shelter, my confort, my love. My completely perfect angel sent from above. When he's here beside me my world becomes right. And maybe for once I can sleep through the night. This poem I'm writing is sad but it's true. The person I need right now Edward, is you.

I don't like where this is headed

I woke up this morning and where my huge grey fan should have been was nothing but a grey blob. It was happening again that meant now a few more inches had become out of my reach. This was just plain annoying now I had been losing vision at the speed of a snail since the day I was born. "These stupid cateracts will be the death of me yet" I said falling to my knees and trailing the floor until I touched wood. I then stood up this was my new method of navigateing my room touch. I had never cared about my decreasing vision until one day my beloved Daniel brought a screeching hault to my nonshalant way of looking at my inpending darkness. "Well I think I lost a foot when Lonny poked my eye but, you know whatever" I said ploping on my bed while holding the phone to my ear. "A foots an awful lot darling shouldn't you be a little more upset" he said abviously emplying that I was apparently not taking this as seriously as I should. I laughed a little before I answered. "Well I'm not so sure about that babe I've been losing my sight since I was little. And since I only am suposed to have sight till I'm 19 maybe 20 if I'm lucky I'm really not all that surprised ya know" I said. "Oh. I just thought you might want to be able to see my face" he said sadly. If he was trying to get my attention it sure as hell worked. I froze I tryed to picture a world where Daniels angelic face was not there, that was one world I was sure I wouldn't like living in. "Oh god, I never really thought of it that way" I said shakily. "Well I'm sorry I frightened you Bella but it did make you see how bad this truely is" Daniel apoligized. He did that a lot, everytime he thinks he upset me he immediately feels he owes me an apoligy. I think it's cute, at least he can reconize when he hurts people. A trait I have found is a rareity in most guys. After I got off the phone with him and from then forth I was very careful about my eyes. Brandy and Larry are insisting that I train with them. But I am no where near excited. If I get hurt which I tend to do a lot around them, I could lose the one and a half inches of clear sight I still have. And if that happens those dam glasses will be useless. I stared at the mirror in my bathroom. I had washed my face ten times and the blurryness wasn't going away. "Dam it I can't see anything clearly ugh" I was royally pissed now. Everything is like a cororful blur. I went in my room and sat down and cried. "This isn't happening, is it, i can't be blind yet, oh god" ok maybe I was over reacting. Everything being blurred isn't technically blind. But to me it meant I was running out of time. I put some eyedrops in my eyes and laid down and closed my eyes and started humming a tune that would keep me distracted. It wasn't until I got half way through it that I realized I was humming Bella's lulaby. I rolled on my side and covered my head with my pillow. I refused to think about Twilight. Not on Monday, not when he was so far away. I was going to make myself insane eventually I swear. I slowly moved my pillow after slaming it into my head until Twilight was out of my head. And also because I got bored of doing it since about the 37 time I realized I couldn't feel it. I grabbed Kurama and began walking in a circle around my room. This was not going to end well. "If these stupid eyes flicker out before December I am so clawing them out" I muttered clenching my fist that contained Kuramas hand. In a passing thought I thanked god stuffed animals didn't feel pain. I laid back on my bed and rolled over only to be asulted by the sun. "Stupid mom and her need to make my room less emo" I muttered closing the blinds and rubbing myy eyes. The green shadows didn't disappear like I exspected them to anyway, that sort of thing took me hours to recover from theses days. I sighed and stared at the white blur that used to clearly be my celling." I really don't like where this is going" I said as drifted into a daydream about being blind as my friend Jason. I woke up screaming and crying.

no clue why I wrote this I am just super depressed since I can't clearly see shit anymore.

The giver can give us more than we know.

don’t worry everyone. go ask Alice will be reviewed in due time. i haven't forgotten about that book by a long shot.

By Robert Kingett.

The giver by Lois lowery is a remarkable insightful adequate piece of literature that brings one question onto the table. What if. It takes place in an unknown futuristic time where no color resides, and language is precise. It sets the feeling so that, even though it's a fiction work, readers could believe that this can, and or will happen sometime in the future. All the characters are believable and don’t make you feel like you are reading a science fiction novel.

Jonas, the protagonist of this pondering paperback, is going to work at the age of twelve. When he finally does get his assignment or placement, he is to tell absolutely no one anything about the job or even who is his boss. Nothing is supposed to be uttered about the job, and that's fine, because by this point Jonas is keeping a deer secret of his own. Things change, such as apples. When Jonas gets to his job, his task is to receive memories of the past, also known as the 21^st century by none other than the giver. As Jonas receives the memories of such things as love, hurt and pain and war, animals, snow, Christmas, and family. He comes to realize that the now perfect universe he lives in is not as good as the imperfect past.

The writing is so believable it almost feels like you’re reading a futuristic memoir. The characters are nicely portrayed and they don’t seem out of place. Teens act like teens, and adults act accordingly.

This would be the ideal book for English class because the main literary element, flashback, is such a huge part of the book and can be studied in so many ways. It can also make you question just how good you actually have it, even with all the horrors of the imperfect human race. What if you didn't have color or music?

To the average reader who experiences love every day, she sure can make it both seem alien and wonderful, by Joana’s ignorance and awe of the concept of Christmas, we too, experience it for the first time, and I think that is brilliant writing. To make the reader look at something so common as if it were new… that's untold power on the page. It's just awesome! I can't see why so many schools would ban such a book. In a class setting, it could lead to some deep intellectual discussions and topics. Why then, are some schools tossing this out as if it were trash?

The symbolism of memory and love combine perfectly to make a page-turner that everyone should pick up. The audio book version only enhances the experience even more, with a great reader and occasionally music.

Sometimes however, the characters just say completely unnatural things in conversation. I'm not sure if this was meant, but it deters from the story a bit.

My favorite part in the book is where Jonas sees the memory of Christmas. After he is done viewing, he asks the giver one thing.

“What is that?”

“That is love.”

By saying that she makes an awesome symbolism connected with the word love. She's doing two things actually. She's giving us her own informal definition of the word most people just use out of habit, and she ties it to Jesus because he, in fact, did love us because he sacrificed himself. True love is unquestionable and unconditional, and this book explains that.

I'm telling you all to read this book because it's something everyone should read. I'm not saying it will make you change who you are, I'm just saying it answers a good question. What if. Moreover, at least for me, taught me to never take things for granted, because what if all that was gone. Overall, great writing, great story, and awesome use of a few literary elements. I will die beside this book that's homework much this masterpiece captivates me.

the dorm paradox, week 5.

Sunday, September 20, 2009
I am back in the dorms now, yes, it's a Sunday. I've forgotten my flash drive! How in the hell could I have been so dumb! I lost my old one here in my room some place so I went out and bought another one. This one had everything on it, even Skype portable. My god I want to die. What will I do without my work, or stories or music? Jesus Christ! Oh well. I will survive.
Mrs. Cory was the first person who I saw coming in, I was about ready to die from the heat. The first time she said, hi to me it sounded like my grandmother. I think I was slightly hallucinating. Anyway, I look up at the sky and mouth hi. When she speaks, again I realize that the noise is coming ahead of me. It's so hot. Her meats the family and they depart, leaving me to my new home away from home and myself. I'm wondering why Mrs. Cory is just sitting out there. It has to be hot. What if she has a stroke or something, or what if she dies out there, or, just to be paranoid here, what if a bear eats her! Oh my! That wouldn't be good. Although, she's like a beanpole so I don’t think the ear would have a good meal. I just emailed my house and told them in all capital letters to bring my flash drive as soon as possible. I hope they do, because in one of my classes having a flash drive is like a requirement. If you don’t have one you get to have a nice big fat zero, and I sure as hell don’t need that. I've got like a GPA of 2.5 going on. I honestly don’t need to fail something else.
I just have to talk about something that happened over the weekend. It's just bothering me to much not to say anything about it. Well, you all should know about my past. If you don’t that's old news, but anyway, I talked with my sister this weekend. Was it good? No. is she good. No. does she care? Hell no. when I was on the phone with her this weekend… hanging on I has to go. Some kids are asking about me. They want to know if I'm here or not. Hmm, let’s see, two staff saw me be dropped off, so where else would I be? Ugh. I'm in a bad mood. And I have to go. Bye Ron, for now. I'm calling you Ron now, by the way. Bye Ron…
6:07 PM
I don’t want to go out there. What I need to do is just calm down. Nick’s here, though he's not in my room now. I wouldn't let him in
“What’s wrong?” he asked when he saw the I want to kill people look on my face.
“nothing.” I lie.
“Okay then.” He says. I don't know if he wants to believe me, or just drop it until later. I have to tell someone Ron. I want to tell Mrs. Cory. I hope she can talk. I want to talk to someone. My sister never wants to see me again. She straight up told me.
“I heard you weren’t doing so good.” I hastily say when she doesn't tell me how she's doing. Kevin, a very old friend of mine, and one of my mom’s boyfriends that actually cared about us for a change, told me that she was making out to be another version of another mom. She's flunking school, and she's smoking, and she has turned into the school whore. He ideally said that. The school whore. I wanted to die.
“Well why the hell isn’t she out of there!” I almost shout into the phone making my dorm mates look at me oddly. Now, on the phone with my sister, she barks at me sarcastically.
“Let me guess… damn Kevin told you… and that god damn Sarah too huh?”
“Yeah. They did.” I immediately shoot back. She has no right to talk to me that way.
“So what?” her voice is angry. Each word has acid dripping off it.
“So I want you to stop it.”
“Go to hell.” She tells me. “I don’t need you your not my dad.
“Hey, if you want to be dumb and all that's fine with me…”
“You say mom’s abusing us. She's been here for me, and where were you, huh? You’re in a new… happy home right?” the word happy comes out like a mocking baby.
“And you go on the radio and tell the whole world how bad mom is, but you know what? Are you taking care of us? Hell no. she is you damn pig… I don’t need you to tell me what to do and what not to do. Go to hell, and leave me the hell alone. Michael doesn't want to talk to you anymore either. He don’t never want to see your ass again! Stop trying to be my dad…”
“You know what?” I said unable to control myself. “At least I'm doing something better with my life. Your staying with Clifford isn’t a good thing. Michaels the only one living with our mom. You don’t need him, and you don’t want to become her.”
“Shut up!” she screams into the phone. I suddenly realize that she's high. I don't know what she's high off of, but she is.
“I got out, and now I'm doing better in school. I'm even going to get a job soon, and what are you doing that's so great?”
“I'm having a life.” Was her cold hateful response. “Do a favor… go to hell? Just leave me alone. I like drugs, and I like sex! You ever had it? No, because you can't even get a girlfriend! You’re to busy making the whole world hate our mom who put a damn roof over our heads, and you’re to busy reading your damn books and doing damn homework. And I don’t care! I don’t care about you, or mom, or Michael. I hope you go to hell… I haven’t talked to you or mom in about three years. Go to hell. I don’t need you telling me how to run my life. I like having fun! Don’t you ever call me, or message me on MySpace again. I hope you die!”
“Do you want to be a whore? Is that what you love doing? Being a pot head and a whore who can't even pass school?”
“Screw school. I've got something better. I've got a boyfriend who will treat me right.” Her boyfriend was actually some 15-year-old black man who she had sex with already. At 14, she was no longer a virgin.
“I considered you a brother once, but not anymore! When you left us, where were Michael and I? That’s right! Still with the bitch! I got out, but why didn't you take me with you? No. don’t answer that. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Go to hell. Keep telling the whole world how bad our mom is ass hole!” with that there was a bang sound, then she screamed into the phone so loud I threw it and it hit the wall.
“I hate you Robert! I hate you!” when I picked up the phone, a dial tone rang in my ears as hot tears splashed my shoes so far below. The world begins to spin. All I do is slowly sink to my bed, and put my face in my shaking hands. What should I do? Should I forget about them and about my mom as I have been doing? Or should I try and help the two people I love? Her voice still sings in my head. It sounds loud like a witches cackle might sound.
“We don’t need you! When you left where were we? Keep telling the world how bad mom is. Go on you pig!” I don't know what to do. After that terrible scene, my guardian thought I should come here to the school and try and absorb in a different world. I'm still angry with her. If she wants to be some crack whore then that's fine with me. I hope she gets aids. She doesn't need me? Fine, then I sure as hell don’t need her or them. I won’t even say hello to them if we ever meat in the future… as if. My dear old mom wants to talk to me about what I have done to the other two kids. That was two years ago! Get over it! Is it possible to make a nightmare end? It would if they all would just die, or leave me be… Sissy is kind of right. I don’t want to see any of them again! I hate them, but the one I still hate the most even more than satin himself, is my mom. I hope she dies first, and slowly.
I just can't imagine why my sister or brother don’t try and do better as I am. I'm in school, and I'm getting good grades, and I'm even getting a job, and I'm becoming a spokes person for abused kids out there. Why don’t they want to get good grades in school? Why don’t they want to get jobs as I did? And most of all, why don’t they want to escape as I did. I escaped, and now I'm trying to make my life right again, in school and out. I'm doing my homework every night, I'm getting good grades in school, and I’m even managing the school newspaper while managing a freelance writing job. I'm trying so hard to bounce back to the path of the right. I hope other people can see that. I'm not just sitting on my ass waiting to be fed and wiped. I'm trying to do something that will help me become a better person. Do you think I'm stupid, or lazy? Other people do. When they look at my GPA, all they see is a low grade point average. They don’t know about the long nights of endless beatings or the long nights of walking the streets crying as your mom was beating you they don’t know the constant fear of the unknown I had to go through day after day. They will never know what it was like to have to steal food from kids at school to survive. All they know is what they see and judge, and all they see is something on some slip of paper that shows a low GPA, and no work experience. Sometimes, I just wish people could look past what they see.
Monday, September 21, 2009
We are in English class and not even doing anything. No huge shock. Surprisingly, Nick hasn’t even shown up yet, and it's 8:11. I don’t think he's even here this week. Now she's just doing the announcements. The same old boring stuff is happening. At least the lunch is good. It's grilled cheese! Woot! After class, I plan to ask Mrs. Chancy, one more time, about doing the newspaper. Let’s hope she listens to me this time.
11:05 PM
I just had an eventful afternoon. Nick and I went to McWilliams and then we came back and I showed them some of my show edits I did. I also showed them, Nick and Daniel, my mix I did. After that, we all just rather hung out in my room until now… I did tell Mrs. Corey about what happened this weekend, and thank god, she listened. I don’t know what I would have done without her. At least I'm in school now where my mind can drift onto other things. Woo hoot!
Mrs. Chancy did actually listen to me, but she can't do a meeting until she is free from tutoring.
“I still have to tutor some kids. Hmm, okay? Right?”
“yes.” I say feeling very discouraged. Shall I check back on Friday and all, since it takes time to get the sheets in and stuff?” she sounds distracted again as she says
“That would work.” I turn and slowly walk away from her room. If I have to do it, alone I will. I will give her two more weeks, and if she doesn't try then Nick and I are doing it on our own. That's that. I don’t want to wait anymore. By the way, the reason Nick didn't show up today right away is that he had a doctor’s appointment. Uh oh. Have to go I can hear someone checking rooms on the other side… bye
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I have to go try and eat some breakfast. Just so, I can put something in me. I don’t like eating breakfast but now I have two, no, four people badgering me to do it. Both Nick’s, Mrs. Corey, and Daniel, and just for fun Mr. Edward also chipped in. I just love my apartment mates you know.
“You don’t want to drop dead do ya?” Mr. Edward says giving me a hard look.
“Slim chance of that happening.” Nick deglomine shoots in with
“Even if you have a pop tart or something it will quench your body’s needs by providing enough nutrients to go approximately 20 minutes before lunch.”
“I survived on no food before…” the thought of having to sit down in the morning is still just plain alien to me. Mr. Edwards marches over to a chair and slides it out slowly so I can hear it slide across the floor. His fingers tap the back of the chair
“Sit down.” He commands with a smile.
“You mean I can't eat and go, I mean walk?”
“nope.” He says tapping the back of it. “Sit.”
“I'll get the pop tart!” Nick dada and athletic boy with a slight goatee and a hat on almost all the time says rushing to the cabinet. I can hear paper crinkling and I start to take it and bolt, but Nick deglomine stops me.
“Oh come on… best buddy… old pal?” he holds me down effortlessly.
“Let’s go…” Mr. Edwards’s voice floats over the room. I look at the clock.
“It’s 7:34 and I…”
“Still have 6 minutes.” Mr. Edward says. He looks muscular so I don’t think I can slip past him. I slowly sit down and Mr. Edward pushes me in. he stays behind me, hands on my chair. I look upside down at his copper colored face looming over me.
“Well, your going to be late… you better start eating’” he scolds. I laugh.
“If I'm going to be late, why don’t I just eat and walk…” they all get closer, and I try and move the chair but Mr. Edwards has it clued to the floor. I really have to work out. I thought. I quickly start to eat with all, and I mean all he boys watching me. It's amazing I'm as clean as I am when shoving food in my mouth. When I'm all done, its 7:41, so I dash out of the door and head for school.
“Same time tomorrow?” Mr. Edward sarcastically says. With his black accent and feminine voice, he almost sounds like he's either fed up with you, snappy with you, or just had a bad morning. I really don’t see how everyone can say he's nice, because he sure doesn't sound like it. I mean sure he is, but he just sounds like he snaps at everything… I don't know… I also know he's sarcastic, and he at least has a sense of humor, but I can't quite figure him out yet. That's because I can't talk to him. He hasn’t opened up to me yet, and that's okay. I know how he feels about that kind of thing. In fact, I know better than anyone… so I'm not sure if he likes Nick and I, but it's as I told Nick last week. I think he likes people who he can trust. When he trusts you, then he opens up to you, and likes you I don't know though… I have to go. Bye as usual, I will write in here later...
11:51 AM
I just got my test back, and I got a 56%. I guess I didn't do so hot on the Muslim era after all. The honestly sad part is I got the highest grade in the class.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I am going to burst into tears! I'm not in honors class! But my schedule said H English!!! Oh god, oh god! The reason I think this is that I was saying something about it to nick.
“I wonder what you and I will be doing next.”
“Um… I don’t think you’re in the honors class. I've been getting honors assignments. You haven't.” this was true, and I couldn’t help but ask why even though he, and I, both knew the answer.
“Because you’re not in the program. Only I am.”
“but… my schedule says honors English 4.” I show it to him, and his eyes grow wide.
” you sure?” I dash to my room and get it. I show it to him.
“You’re right… weird…” I wanted to just croak at that instant. I would love to do the assignments that he's been doing for about a week now, and I have been stuck with my other class.
“I knew I would get it!” he boasts. This is about the time I want to trade places.
“I'll let you do my homework for me? No wait, she will get suspicious as to why the work isn’t as good as it was before… I don’t think that will work.” The office him and I are in now starts to sway slightly. The room rocks like a small boat captured by roaring waves.
“I don’t think you could do the work anyway…” what was this? Beat Robert up day?
“Not as good as you I'm sure.” I snap. “But I can adequately do it…”
“I don’t think so.” Nick exclaims. “So it’s a good thing you’re not in there actually…” I don’t think he saw the hurt look on my face.
“I can do it! I know I can! Don’t you think so?”
“no.” he flatly says… I can't take it anymore.
“Okay. Can you leave for a bit? I want to start cooking anyway… as he leaves, I slam the door behind him.
11:22 PM.
I have been in the kitchen all day. I am so tired I want to just drop dead right now. Let me sleep for an eternity. I want to sleep forever. My god, is it possible for your fingers to get cramps? I've been slicing meat and making dinner for three hours, ten washing dishes after all that. Jesus H crist! I'm going to go to bed… and I couldn't even do all my homework! God I hate cooking. A microwave is going to become my best friend in the future. Screw health…
Thursday, September 24, 2009
I'm not in the honors program after all. It stinks. I nearly shouted so loud he roof shook. Here's what went on today.
After English, I asked Mrs. Chancy why I wasn’t accepted into the honors program. I don’t want to look dumber in front of Nick, who by the way I didn't talk to all of today. She sounded shocked…
“Actually I think the reason is you didn't have an English class last year.” I wanted to rip all my hair out and burn it! That stupid South Dakota trip ruined something yet again for me. I hated the world just then.
“I want to do it! You really don’t understand! I want to do it! I can do it! I can!” Nick stood behind me. I wanted to kick him just for ease dropping on me, the creep.
“I know you can. Hmm, right? I've seen some of your works, hmm, okay? And it's just exceptional, and you’ve been getting nothing but 100’s on everything so far, even though Nick has the highest grade in here only because he's doing extra work.”
“I want to do the work! Can't you go by my English three grades?”
“Well, hmm, you had it here right?”
“Yes!” I nearly shout at her. “Yes yes yes!”
“Okay. Hmm, right? Let me look at your grade.” She can do that. I thought.
“Oh cookie! here. A 97.”
“That’s the same grade I got in my AP English class when I was in the ninth grade.” Good Old Nick pipes up. I want to smack him.
“You said all you need to. It's clear what you think of me.” I was still mad because he called me stupid last night. I don’t forgive and forget as easily as I make friends.
“Okay. I will ask Mr. Qweedy for you hmm, right?” I spin and stomp out of the room, making sure to step hard near Nick’s foot. I tried to step on it but he absently moved it.
“Are you mad?” he asks me. I spin on him now and step right up to him, and stand on tiptoe so I can look him in the eye.
“Yes. I am, I'm angry at you, or is that too much of a small word for you?” his words were still ringing in my head, which only made me madder.
“You won’t be able to do the work. I am the only one who will, only I can do it, you can't handle it.” I spin again making sure my backpack hits him hard. I snatch up my book, and switching off the fury I look at Mrs. Chancy.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I get to the door when someone calls me. It's Nick.
“Hey, um, Robert… look…” I continue not even looking at him. I walk on my math class with my lone book to my chest, and my temper flaring like a dragon’s fire.
11:12 AM.
I just witnessed the most awesome thing in the whole world. I will explain.
Mrs. Stephens had me deliver something to Mrs. Chancy just now, and I start to go into her empty classroom and I see two people in there. It's a student I know that, but I don't know who it is. I slowly push the door open behind them so I’m not heard. It's Nick and she. I think about throwing a chair at him, but I don’t want to hurt her as well. What he said really hurt my feelings and made me upset. I haven't told anyone about it yet, just you Debbie. I'm calling you Debbie now. No, dede. Yeah. Dede. So anyway, dede, I slowly walk in, and close the door so softly you would have assumed wind blew it shut. I duck behind a pedestal to the far left of the room you against the wall and listen to them talk.
“Hmm, what was that? Right? Was it the wind? Hmm? Yeah?”
“I don't know.” Nick says and again I want to throw something at him. They both sit down again, and I know I'm totally cutting class, but I don’t care by this point.
“This is a good analysis of the dragon here Nick. Hmm, right? Well done!”
“Thank you ma’am.”
“Let me just grade Robert’s summary and I'll be all done. Your homework for tonight will be to try and find the metaphors in this chapter.” I grit my teeth. That was my strong suit! God I want to kill Nick! I'm thinking.
“Robert’s a great writer!” Nick suddenly says and I stop dead cold. All I can see is wood in front of me, but I hear her voice go up.
“Oh, yes he is! His work is sensational Nick!”
“You know he wants to do the honors class?” Nick asks.
“Yes. He talked with me about it today; he seemed quite depressed about it.” I scoff in my hiding place. No shit! What, you think I'm all smiles about it?
“Do you decide who gets in or not?”
“Yes, me and a few other teachers, and in some rare cases, students.”
“If you want to have my honest opinion. I think that kid can do the work… even though he can't do it as good as I, I think he can do it.” I want to stop breathing because I feel so bad.
“Well I think he can do it also.”
“Please Mrs. Chancy. Yes, he does under college work, but he's smart. Again, not as smart as I, but he's smart. Also, it will help him. He shouldn’t be wasting away in a lower class.”
“You think so Nick?”
“You’ve never really talked with him have you?” I still want to die, and I feel like a bitch now as well.
“No. it's just been strictly class work with him and I, hmm, right? Okay.”
“he's quite wise for his age, but I don't know why.” Nick almost sounds shocked when he says that.
“I can imagine. He published poems in our paper before, and I was quite impressed.”
“Please Mrs. Chancy. I think he should be in the honors program with me, and if he gets stuck I'll help him, though he can survive himself I'm sure.” He stands up and walks to the door. I hear shoes turning around.
“Put him in the honors class. He needs to be in there. I think you know that.”
“I will see what I can do. I thought he couldn't be in there because he didn't have English last year because he took a vacation, but maybe I can go by his English three grades. I'll see what I can do. Nick, okay?”
“Just try. Please.” He walks out of the room. And as I hear the door swing shut, I hear Mrs. Chancy mutter. “Nick’s right… Robert Kingett, you definitely need to be in there. I won’t give up on you I'll try.” She talks to herself some more, and I step out and open and shut the door again, trying to cast a blank look on my face.
“Hi. Do you have a stapler?”
“Oh. Sure I do.”
“Thanks. Um, have you saw about the honors program yet?” I want to act as if I don't know anything. She looks at me for some time, then says
“No. I didn't. I will though.”
“okay.” I walk out of the room, and into Mrs. Stephens’s room.
“Sorry. Went to his bathroom.”
“okay.” I sit down and stare at my laptop screen, and then I open up the web page for the school store. I think I'll buy Nick something. I think as I start to realize that not only am I an ass whole, but I'm also a bastard as well…I just hope he accepts my apology…
Friday, September 25, 2009
I just got my mid terms. I'm failing history with a 56. everything else is all A’s. sigh. Even math I got a C in, but oh well. I will just try even harder.

I want my life bac

I have never been homesick. Or anything close to it, until today.

I want my life back.
I want that school I once called home.
I want to see that face that soothes my pain everyday when school gets off
I want what I had.
When I was surrounded by those who believed in me and the girl i used to be.
I want my life back
I was sitting here on Monday, thinking to myself.
I'm still on that dam computer maybe I should get some help.
But I know if I get off it I know the pain will flow.
And there's only one thing that cures it and I think it goes
I need my life back.
I need that school I felt was home.
I need to feel those arms around me everyday when school ends off
I need what I had.
I need to be surrounded by those who are true to me and this girl I wish I'd see.
I need my life back
Wow, it's finally Tuesday and I'm still sitting here I know.
Jacob let Edward send me an email well god bless his soul.
He says it seems like forever since he's got to talk to me.
I push back a thousand tears and resist the urge to beg him please.
Give me my life back.
Because where you are is where I call home.
Just let me touch your hair and see your eyes everyday when school breaks off.
Give me what I had.
Let me be near the people who truely need me and the girl that just two can see.
Give me my life back.
It's getting late on Wednesday and he hasn't wrote back yet.
He will probably do it when I'm in my room I'll bet.
It's about nine now and I feel quite alone.
I only wish I could call him and cry into that phone.
I miss my life now.
I miss that school that was our home.
I really miss hearing and seeing you everyday at 4 o chock.
I miss what I had.
I miss being surrounded by those arms I knew needed me and the girl that I can't see.
I miss my life now

the top 10 things you should never do

1. Never punch and or kick a bulldozer. It may be little and in your yard but even the small ones are made of metal. So they will hurt you a lot more than you will hurt it.
2. Never punch a old wood shed as hard as you can. It will leave its mark on the shed and your hand with a fist full of splinters.
3. Never kick or punch a washer\dryer. You won't feel any pain but your poor little ears will when the vibrations reach them.
4. Never kick your daddys tracter. Cuz hick diddys get real cotton pickin mad when the battery falls out.
5. Never punch yor deck no matter how much you trip on it for a reason see #2.
6. Never punch a wood fence. Even if you walk into it, or run into it at full speed while chasing a butterfly. Just walk away, if you do not take this advece two things will happen.
a. You will punch a hole staight through the fence and have splinters in you from your fingertips to your elbow.
b. You will have to explain said splinters and hole to your parents.
7. Do not train in gentle fist on a deck when you have no depth perception. Trust me at some point you will come to the stairs and if you do not stop you will find out your aproximal distance from the ground the hard way.
8. No matter how fun it looks do not slide down a hill of dirt in your yard especially if there is both a house and a huge pile of leaves at the bottom. for mutliple reasons.
a. You will slip on said leaves and slam and or roll into the house.
b. When tring to get back to the top you will most likely still have leaves on your shoes which will cause you to slip back down said hill and hit your head and then ankles on the house.
c. When trying to stand up at bottom you will slip fall backwards into house and the be so dis orientated the you run into the wood fence near the house which leads to #6.
9. Be aware that your weight can change. Do not try to slide down a close line if the last time you did so you weighed 99 ponds and you weigh much more than that now.
10. Never kick some guys ass that is in your yard. Even if you don't know him chances are that your landlord does. And if you do ru very fast into your house and pretend it woa not you. They may believe you exspecially if the way you fight is light a wild animal.

And now that you know all the things that i strongly advise against doing and your saying to yourself why would I do any of these things anyway. I DID EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS THIS WEEK.
bella

i'm touched

I almost cried today because I was dearly miss treated but I didn't becuse when you grew up like I did you forget how to have reactions like that. I grew up in an eviorment where if you flinched someone just hit you harder. If you spoke out of turn you got not a repremand but a bloody nose or a black eye if you were lucky. Let me take you back 1997 if you please before I had all these scratches scars and bruises on me. I was a baby maybe just about 6 years old while I laid on the couch with a cold my mom split. I wounder if she even kissed me goodbye no wait on second thoght I fucking wish she would die. Everyone hated me and anyone that didn't hate me feared me. And if you didn't fear me or hate me you labeled me either as retarded, crazy or just plain fat. I grew up with these labels I had people I had never laid eyes on before flinch and run way. I at first thought it was just because had no iris so my eyes were black and maybe that creeped some people out. But then I heard some ladies in my classes talking. They said I had the death glare the eyes of a child damed to hell and that anyone I touched would be damed along with me. I was cursed then, I was a thing of evil I couldn't be around other kids because I might hurt them I was isolated and so no one even noticed me I could be in a room packed with people and never seen or mentioned. This became my life and I slowly slipped into darkness. I began to fully believe my curse was real. I pushed others away not out of spite but for their own good. I would not be the reason anyone went to hell that was my fate not others. But some selected few would not be brushed off and each time this happened I took it as a gesture that either they were really stupid or they truely wanted to be my friend. Only twice was I right, the first time was a girl in my summer camp who in the end dumped me so that she could be more popular a factor that had never mattered to me. The second was the seldom time that I was right about someone. That boy is still my friend to this day he has stuck with me for ages. I am forever in this mans debt. but this disorientated me, this made me even more sure that if someone reached out to me that it meant they would be my friend for life. So the next time it happened I made a mistake I paid for for ages. Up till last year I was trapped under her thumb, I couldn't excape. after that I was swore off lingers with the exception of my old friend. Then I met a girl that I thought was my perfect match. I was very wrong though, now I am questioning everything she says like that she worries about me or that she cares or that she says I mean something to her. Then I was pissed so the last time had a person that lingered I immediately inwardly plotted to push them away. I told him how cursed and awful I was and he still was there. I was not surprised though I learned that boys tended to be more loyal than emotional train wrecked girls. So I believe I will stick around boys now on since all the girls I have ever been friends with turned out shitty. regardless the boy I last trusted and then trust turned into love. And to my surprise he loved me back. Now I have a proverb

if one can count the amount of allies you have on one finger than you are blessed

and if this is true and I can on two I must be super blessed. Thanks to all who stuck by me I am forever going to be attempting to make it up to you. and I have a nindo

those who break the rules are skum but those who let a potenial allie fight a battle alone are worse than skum there is no word for them.

do you know what's funny

Do you ever think about air when you breathe it. You don't because it's always just there thats why we freak out when we can't breathe. Do you think dead people miss breatheing, I do. Becuase since I graduated I miss all the things I used to never miss or think heavily about. When you see a friend everyday and then one day you don't it's not a big deal. "Oh well I guess I'll see them tomorrow" is what you'll say. But what if that statement was no longer valid. I had very little friends at my old school but the few I had I saw almost everyday. So when I didn't hardly see my closest friend on my last day I didn't think much of it. Now I regret taking that as a passing thought. I may never see that person again, I may never walk with him or look at his face ever again. And it pains me now that I didn't take the time that was winding down to spend more time with him. I was just asuming that I would see him after summer was over. Only when summer ended did it occur to me that it wasn't true. HE was going back to school but not me. I had graduated which for all extensive terms meant I in fact was not going to see this person I had for so long just assumed would be there. But I thought this about a lot of things. When my aunt died I was in shock because my brain just said, "Oh she will come to see me soon" because that was my exspectation. When the funeral came it finally hit me she was gone and I would never get the heart felt goodbye I had wanted so bad. My friend and I talked about the little time he and I had but i really didn't realize that the next time I said goodbye to him might have been the last time I did so. I miss him now but it's too late now I again missed the heart felt goodbye that our eternal friendship so rightly derved. And then there's love if you see the one you love everyday it becomes common and suddenly when he leaves you miss him but not extensively but then you do something like graduate. Me and my love talked constantly about the long period of time we would be away from one another. But again these things don't really sink in until you suddenly realize you haven't seen their face since June, then you realize June was almost four months ago. Then it hits you and all you can do is nothing and all you can say is, "Dam I let another opitunity to say a heart felt goodbye to someone". So now i have to wait until December and then wait again until June to even get to hug him or kiss him or look in his eyes and tell him I love him and watch his eyes light up as he tells me he loves me too. I took these opitune moments for granted and now I am paying dearly for it. I miss my aunt but there's not much I can do about that. I miss my old friend but all I can do is send him text to tell him and make things that I hope prove it. And I miss my love but all I can do is count the days and talk to him on weekends and hope that his senior year goes as fast as mine did. I can't change the past but right now I sure wish I could I would go back to the last time I saw my aunt and I would hug her and inhale her scent and then breathe it into a bottle and I would tell her I loved her and that I would never stop loving her, And that she meant more to me than anyone else in my family. Then I would go back to my senior year and spend half my time with my dear friend and the other half with my dear love. I would tell my friend to his face how much he means to me and that I will never have another friend like him. And i would tell my love that I adored him and I would shower him with affection. Then I would go back and I would tell every single teacher in my school that I was sorry and that all the stuff they said was right. And I would tell every kid that was my true blue friend thank you. And I would then go back to the present and then and only then would I be content I miss everything I used to have daily food, school, friends and love. But alass I can't change the past so I hope maybe someday I will stumble across this entry in the future when you can and I will finally do the things I should have done when I had the chance

by Connie

my real apology

Look I'm extremely sorry for the errors I had in my last post. I got excited and didn't check for workmanship. Please have mercy since I am your old friend and have a little pity. My first post was bad but if I come up with anymore I swear I will check my work.

Beowulf untold by shadowdog1, AKA Robert Kingett.

Author: shadowdog1

The coming of Beowulf.

Dear diary.

You won’t ever believe what happened to me today. I mean it was so bad I'm still holding my stuffed kitty. Oh the agony, the pain, the sadness of it all! I want my mommy!

Sorry I ran off like that, I just wanted to cry a little, but guess what happened… Beowulf broke me. He didn't break my hair, but he broke something worse. My ego. I will explain what happened.

I guess someone by the name of wulfgar went to the door, and went inside to find Beowulf. I guess he told him about Grindle, and who had sent for him, but here's the "whoa..." part, okay? He says to just bring you, and yourself. No weapons but bring your armor. The pompous pig agrees and comes over to where Hrothgar is. He looks so bold and powerful walking up here that I just had to say something about it. I mean who wouldn't after all. Therefore, I go up to him and just have a chat with him is all. Get this, I said

”so, you’re like the hunk Beowulf? I expected you to be something like George w bush, or possibly, Michael Jackson, you know? Feared because he's like done some stupid things, but like all respected and stuff like that man. Example dude… your contest with Brecca on that ocean one day. Wow, talk about common sense. I guess you don’t have any. People like told you not to man, but like little girls, you didn't even think about listening!”

I did have a point you know… I mean come on; the person must have been a genetically modified version of George bush or something. He snapped at me so fiercely I felt like he could kill me with words.

Ah, unferth, my friend…”

“Wait. We’re friends?”

“Yeah man, don’t you remember me putting peanut butter on your toothbrush… classic.” He cleared his throat then continued.

“My friend. You do have a point there. However, I, like your mom, have many boring points that just seem to materialize out of thin air, and they’re not wrong, because even my ego is bigger than that of, say, Janet Jackson. Also, like her, I'm actually slightly ugly, and people scream when they see me. Because I have such a closed mind and everything, I think they’re gushing over me but in fact, they are scared of a wart or something on my face.

You, my dear sir, don’t even know what went on that day. You see, I was actually helping Brecca swim to shore. I stayed behind a few times so he wouldn't die. I swam beside him for the most part. The tide eventually swept me away like a good soap opera, and he and I were separated. I ended up on a shore with a whole bunch of Oprah like monsters. At first, they wanted to attack me with tips on how to be a better person by thinking and eating a certain way. To fend them off, I had to eat a bucket of ice cream, and politely ask if they would like my sword stabbed directly into their hearts and or eye sockets, then have their deaths be shown on YouTube. They said no, but they didn't listen to me for long. One approached and uttered one horrifying thing! “You’re getting to much cholesterol.” I should have expected this from an Oprah like creature, but I didn't. Because I forgot to take my medication this morning, I decided to kill them all. Therefore, I'm great, and even my hair is great. Don’t even get me started on what you did… you did such a horrible thing!”

“No! Please! Don’t! I beg you! Don’t utter it out loud.”

“Oh yes. You did something far worse than I… you became a male hair dresser!”

“you have done the unthinkable! I mean, you won’t even give me a discount…”

Just then however, king Hrothgar stood up from his throne.

“It seems you have the uncanny ability to get rid of truly creepy people Beowulf. Excellent! Oprah got on my last nerves a lot anyway, but now you have slain so many politicians, radio hosts, talk show hosts, and bag singers, that you are well known for your quick sword…” Beowulf stopped picking his nose. He wiped the contents in his hair before boasting:

“Thank you sir! I shall, unlike the people on jerry Springer, actually do something with my life. Don’t worry! Grindle shall be executed, just like good TV!”

“Glad to hear it! Off with you!” I watched in utter horror as Beowulf, brandishing his naked sword, moon walked out of there…

I don't know what to do diary. I just don’t. I have a feeling we all will be doomed. We will just have to wait however. I'm going to go do my hair because it relaxes me. Bye diary. I hope I can write in here later…

Later.

I can hear everything that's going on now. Everyone is in the great all now, and the queen is toasting Beowulf. The bad thing however, is that she has a lisp, and it is quite interesting to listen to her talk.

“I would like to propose a toast to my wonderful husband, and a great ruler… and a bad cook, Hrothgar!” the sounds of clinks can be heard where I am now. I'm guessing that Hrothgar drank deeply and happily, as well as appreciatively. Oh. Oops. I'm supposed to be in there!

She's pouring drinks now, going from solder to solder. They, we, all love to drink, so our faces lit up like neon signs when the cool liquid splashed into our cups.

“Oops!” the queen githawd with laughter. “I'm sorry! I forgot you!”

She's gaping at the great Beowulf now. I want to puke. She's trying to silently praise god or this magnificent hero. Please. He couldn't even play ball worth three chillings.

“I'm so honored to give you mead!” she gushed. Beowulf covered is giggles as he listened to her lisp.

“thank you I must assure u. the only reason I came here was to slay the horrid beast, and win the long made terror… or die by grindels… um… teeth… also while I'm here I may want to get a pedicure too...

The queen fainted after uttering “my hero!”

Reviews fall out of sight

Hi all. I am so sorry I could not get to do the review today as I planned, but some unexpected events came up, and there is only one laptop on this house, and it's a shared computer. Therefore, that being said all, I will review go ask Alice when I can. I'm going to go to the dorm today, so I will not be home and no interesting content for me this week. I may chuck something small out before I go, but for now, I will talk to you later! Bye all my lovely readers, and give my guest writers the respect you give me. Thanks all, and see you next week!

a small note to guest writers.

If You’re reading this on blink nation it does not apply. It only applies to my official blog weird writings, which can be found at

http://www.wwrites.com/

Hi all, One of my guest writers has already been so kind to contribute, but there is just one issue. Her blog had typos and spelling and grammar errors. Well, so are mine, but they are not as bad as hers are. Guest writers, if you want to remain a guest writer… at least make some effort to spell check and grammar check your work. If you don’t have Microsoft word you can get a free word processor called open office, which is accessible for the disabled guest writers. So, just a fair warning to you all, I have made puppy lover and administrator to this blog, meaning she will monitor and edit all of whatever you write. If it's to load with spelling and grammar mistakes, please either erase it or edit it and post it again. Thank you all.

why people can't green vegtable

this post is being edited by one of the blog administrators.

this blog now has guest writers.

I have just added a slue of guest writers onto my blog. Weather they will contribute or not is up to them, but they are writers who can write something different for a change.

For those of you reading this on blink nation, this is on my official blog, which is www.wwrites.com. You all can check all my stuff out there and listen to music and stuff, and guest writers… just a warning. I will monitor this blog, so no sexual stuff. You can use fowl language, just no sexual stuff. Okay? Well, that's it for now. If you want to guest write for me, email me.

a dying wish. an old journal entry.

11/23/2007 10:44 PM

Do you know why people are nice to other people? I am not sure either. Journal, I have a question. Do you know what to do when you talk to a terminally ill boy? Yeah I am not sure what to do either. The sad thing is you know he’s going to die soon, and yet it’s a huge surprise when it does happen. Let me ask you something journal… would you spend your thanksgiving in a hospital? Me neither. I wouldn’t care if I had cancer I would rather spend my thanksgiving with the people I love. And that’s all I would want to do. Do you know the most heartbreaking sight in the completely wide world is? Seeing a sick kid. A kid with cancer who needs companionship but no one is giving it to him. That would tear your heart out even though you didn’t even mean for it to do so in the first place. That’s what I had to experience this thanksgiving break. A nightmare. I will start at the beginning.

After I promenade off the buss at 3:22 PM on the last Friday of my vacation coming from the library, I saw that Tommy, my ebony skinned deaf friend was waiting for me outside of our home. I had arranged to stay there for a few weeks, and I was eager to get away from the hell I still live in, even if it's just for a week. However as I approached I noticed he didn’t look all to happy to see me, which made me feel so bad I wanted to just hop back on the bus and go home, I didn’t want to look at him or even communicate with him at the current time. When I reached him, he took my weighty backpack off my shoulders and just started walking in the house without even greeting me. I preamble after him my face streaked with concern. Tommy went into the kitchen and placed my backpack on a chair. Then after that, he sat down and stared stalwartly ahead. It looked like he was staring at me, but I deduced he wasn’t doing such a thing. I saw a pad and pen beside me so I grabbed it and began to write. About half way through the sentence, Tommy places his warm huge hand on my chilled one, and gently takes the pen out of my clutches.

“No ask.” He writes.

“How did you know that was what my actions implied?” I wrote back.

“Face show sign huge.”

“Oh great! So my face is a huge sign that displays my thought process?”

“Book easy.”

“I am not easy to read like a book! And what have I told you?”

“That not complete think?”

“Yes and its thought not think.”

“I not care.” This note confused me because Tommy always wants me to help him on his writing skills. I do a lesson each night and he loves it. At least, he did anyway.

“Look. What's the matter?”

“Mom bed hospital. Ache head.”

“You mean your mother is in the hospital?”

“Yes. Sick bad.”

“Shall we go see her? She’s in dire need of your company I am sure, and she needs to know you are still there for her.”

“Not remember.”

“I know she doesn’t, but so what? At least she’s happy, and she looks forward to seeing you.”

“You dad same.”

“How are we the same?”

“You go see her and she forget people came in room I hate that place.”

“Oh.” That’s all I could say. I didn’t want to go either, but what choice did I have. Tommy wouldn’t let me stay at home all by myself. Not in a million years, but still I didn’t want to go see a dying woman who is having memory issues. I would rather read about it then experience it

“We leave after quick food.” He writes to me. I have to fight every inch of nerve to not tell him “oh no sir. That is not how you write it, you write it like this.” But in the end, I restrained myself. I ate a quick bite of an apple, and then I gathered up four books and we went on our way.

I have absolutely no idea why I brought four books. I guess it’s just habit, plus two of them I was almost finished with reading anyway. So I didn’t care. I could just finish them on the way over there…

Tommy however, thought that I was being rather discourteous. He angrily signed to me all the way there “you got to respect my mom. No read.” I didn’t pay any heed to his rants. I acted as if I had no idea what he was saying, so he just sighed and gave up.

The hospital was a normal stereotype portray of a hospital that you see on television. Nurses of all race, gender, and height trampled up and down the hallways pushing carts and saying medical things that confused me. I clutched my books to my chest as though I thought that some weird man would just pop out of some door and steal them away from me and then I would never read dorphy parker again. The various twists and turns that we had taken left me clueless as to where we were going or where I had come. Everything looked the same, and my cane tapping in front of me made so many rackets I felt as though the walls were covering their ears in utter terror. We turned a final corner and marched to an open door. I could hear a female African American laughing inside, and another male African American telling the female to “shhhh babe.” To my shock, we walked in. the male African American whose skin was the color of night stood up, and looked at us as if we were people who had just risen from the dead.

“Hi Tommy! Who is this white boy with you?” that made me angry! I have never been so insulted like that before!

“My name is Robert Kingett sir.” I had to place my cane on the floor to shake hands with the person. His hand nearly crushed mine in half his grip was so firm. We broke away. Tommy and his dad signed to each other for a while. I grew bored fast and drew out a Dorothy parker book and began to read, even though it was rude, I felt like it was a nuisance sitting there anyway, so reading didn’t bother me, I thought I should leave, so I did so. Tommy stopped me outside the door.

“I am going to go.” I said flatly. I went on down the hallway and didn’t look back.

I walked along the hallway until I came to a wooden door marked 123. I was looking for an empty room to sit and read, and well it wasn’t far from where Tommy’s mother was being held so I walked in. I didn’t look at the two beds as I walked into the muck smelling room. I went to a rocking chair in the far corner of the room near the wide window overlooking the parking lot. I sat in it and began to read. I was really getting into the waltz, when someone coughed in front of me. I jumped my cane and all four books landed with a clatter and a thump on the floor. I hurried to gather them up and leave, but a black boy about 17 stopped me.

“What are you scared for?” I was still gathering up my books and cane, after I did that and managed to slow my heartbeat down some, I sat back down in the rocking chair and looked at the voice that spoke to me. He was tall. Even sitting he was at least 7 inches taller than I was. His eyes were brown, and he was bald. He was extremely skinny, and had a huge bottom lip that stuck out a little. His skin was coal black, with huge hands, and unnaturally long arms. Without even bending over, he just reached down and handed me my cane. I was apprehensive about taking things from him because I am not sure if what he has is catching. He appears to be staring at my chest so I remove one of the four books that rest there and show it to him. Without even looking at the title, he says.

“The waltz. By D parker.” I am baffled. He didn’t even look at the book, just the cover. “I like it. Lots of metaphor is portrayed within the story.” He continues. I felt like I have met my twin. I cannot help but like him instantly.

“There’s also lots of irony in the book.” I interject. He nods, as if we share the same secret

“You a reader too?” he stares at me. “I thought I would never meat another reader like me.” I laugh.

“I know. No ones interested in books anymore you know? If you bring up personification around anyone else they are like oblivious to what that word means.” I am so excited I start jumping up and down. He smiles at me, and before you know it, we are both laughing.

“Ok... I want to see how good a reader you are. I never met an avid reader such as myself before. This should be interesting.” I shook my head. “What are you acting like that for?”

“That’s such an old word. What about appealing?” he strokes his chin in wonderment. The way he talked was sort of a mixture of black speech and proper English, which was confusing to me but I managed to decipher the dialect with no effort after a few minutes.

“Hmm… that’s a good one. Ok, now my test will start. Who wrote the prince's bride?” he stared at me smugly as though he had just asked why god did create humans, and he thought I would never know... I grinned.

“Two authors wrote that book.” He stares at me open-mouthed. “Actually, there is just one author, but he uses 2 names, and he has books published under each name, but the identity he used when he made the book was S. Morgenstern, and his other identity he uses is Goldman.” He nearly falls out of bed. He laughs so hard I think his gut is going to bust.

“No way! No way! A fellow reader like me! Got another question for you. If you can tell me where this quote comes from, I will just die. Ok? Here it is. ‘99% of everything is crap.’” I stop and think. I know I have heard that somewhere before, and it was a book I had at home. I doo not have to think long before the answer comes to me.

“That would be sturgeon’s law.” I said. “A very good book. I also think that the prince's bride would be a good book also, since it has everything a English teacher hopes for, and also all the literary elements-“ he puts a hand on my arm and I shut up. He is grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re awesome! I never had such a benevolent feeling in my life! A fellow reader. I never thought I would meet one!” I cannot help but laugh. I never thought I would meet a book lover like me either.

“My names Robert.” I say shaking hands with this huge person.

“Name is Shawn.” He looks down at me from his sitting position, which is hard because his head nearly hits the light above his bed. He locks eyes on my twisted leg.

“Yeah. I have CP.” I inform him. “And I am also visually impaired.” he laughs.

“And you stutter.” I hang my head in pure shame. He sternly looks at me. “Why are you so ashamed? You should not be. What color skin do I have?” I thought this was some crazy rant, but I said “black”

“That’s right. I got skin the color of night, and I am proud of it. And you should be proud of your deformities. They make you stronger and you can live forever no matter how many obstacles you face. Your soul will always live on!” he stared past me out the window into space. I am sensing something now. I am very good at reading people. That comes from having to be a good liar when child services would come and try to take me away from my mom. Even though I seek every chance to get out, escaping the eighth circle of hell that god has created for me; I still, and would always cover up for her. I still do even when she beats me. Anyway, that is where the reading people skill comes from, and now I am looking at his downcast face. He is sad, but why is he so sad? I have to know, so I ask

“Hey… you ok?” he looked at me and said, “Some people don’t have as long a time as others do to enjoy life.” I didn’t know what to say. The revelation just hit me like five smacks from my mom’s open palm,

“You have cancer don’t you?” he stared at me as if I told his mom that he was in fact, gay. “Yes!” He hissed. He looked away again. I came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, and put my hand on his shoulder. I feel so bad for him, that I want to trade bodies. “Are you afraid?” I asked timidly. He turned to me. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Afraid of what? Dyeing? Yes, I am. I am horrified. I am horrified that I have to leave all my family that I care about oh so much, and friends behind.” He looked at me somberly. “even the ones I just met." he said. I felt so sorry for him. His world was ending and he was only a teenager. He wouldn’t get the chance to graduate, marry, have kids, dance at the prom, anything. This was so unfair. And he was so nice too. I handed him a tissue and he wiped his eyes. I patted his shoulder and squeezed it. He then stared at me for so long I thought he zoned out.

“What’s that on your cheek?” I slowly touched the dried blood.

“It’s nothing.” I lied. Remember journal, about how I told you about my mom cutting me with a knife? I wasn’t going to tell him yet. I didn't trust him enough to tell him. Back then, I felt like an idiot because I forgot to clean it up.

“That looks like a slash.”

“I'm fine.” I snapped but he took me in the bathroom anyway, and cleaned me up. I remembered scrubbing at my cheek with my nails the night before, trying to make the blood disappear so people at school wouldn't ask too many questions. When that didn't work, I used the toilet to wipe off the wet blood. I didn't get all of it though, and now, in the bathroom, I hated myself for that. How could I have been so stupid? I'm usually more careful. After that's all done, him and I sit near his huge window.

“How did you get cut?” I didn't want to tell him. I didn't trust him.

“You know, Robert, from here, I saw you come in with that black man. He's not your dad because you and he have different noses and ears. And, judging from the black eyes you have and the scratches on your hands…” he paused, and took my small hand in his massive one.

“Please tell me. Is there something rotten in the state of Denmark?” I could not help but look at him. My blank defiant stare spoke so many thousand words that day. “no.” it said, but it came through a million resources.

“No.” I finally said. He leaned in closer, studying my eyes.

“You have wisdom.”

“Everybody can get THAT.” I spat.

“No. they can't. Wisdom is just lessons that you have learned through life, and I'm not talking about positive ones either.”

“Stop trying.” I snapped. You won’t crack my safe.” He leaned back and stared at my hands all cut up.

“I can deduce the combination.”

“No. you won’t.” I felt like I wanted to cry. I didn't want to tell anyone because I don’t want to hurt anyone else. That's why I didn't tell him journal. Pals forgive me. I didn't tell him, but he did manage to clean up my hands better than I did at the pond. We sat back down, and he looked at the books I had on the table. He flipped through all of them. He stopped at the giver.

“I've never read this one.” He looked at the synopsis of the book. “It sounds good.”

“Oh! It's better than good!” I stalked.

“Really?” just then, the nurse came in, and scolded him for being out of bed. He introduces me and she beamed at me. “He’s never had company. Poor thing.”

“I can still hear you” he snapped.

“Oh sorry. Well, I’m going to go. Shawn, stay IN BED. I'm going to go to dairy queen and get me a milk shake.

“Oh! What kind? I would recommend the chocolate ones.”

“Awesome!” she left the room, and Shawn looked at me as if I just spoke a foreign language.

“What’s a milk shake taste like?” all I could do was gape after he uttered that one sentence. Having an epiphany, I dashed out of the room in a burst. Shawn called my name repeatedly to come back. I felt in my pocket, and thank god, I had that ten-dollar bill the cab driver gave me. I caught up with the nurse at one of the desks.

“Can Shawn have sweets?” I huffed.

“Yes, he can~~” I cut her off so fast she was still saying “but small amounts.”

“Get him a milk shake. Chocolate.” I threw he bill at her. She picked it up. “Okay.”

As I watched Shawn finish his milk shake, I can't help but feel so elated. His broad grin made me want to laugh the whole night.

“So? How was it?” he looked at me, and then in a voice so appreciative I nearly died.

“It was awesome. Thank you so much!”

After that, we talked about books, and some of our favorites and dislikes. He said he just read gift of the magi, and I asked if he had caught the mistake in it.

“What mistake?”

“Well, you know the part where she's talking about the pennies, and how she saved up a dollar and eighty seven cents, and she saved them up one at a time?”

“yeah." he said leaning forward.

“Think about it. If you subtract 60 from that, what do you get? $1.27. So she couldn't have saved them up one and two at a time, especially in those days.” His eyes bulged so huge even I could see them! At that moment, Tommy burst into the room, looking like he was going to kill me.

“Where have you been? I've been looking for two hours. Don’t you ever and I mean ever do that to me again!” he furiously signed and voiced.

“Oops.” I mouthed. He didn't like that at all.

“Do you think it's funny?” he was just signing now. “What would your mom think?”

“I don’t care!” I signed and voiced. “About her, anyway.” Shawn's head snapped towards me like a spring. He didn't say a word.

“Meet me in the car in a few minutes. I MEAN IT!” he stormed out of the room.

A few minutes later Shawn and I were saying good byes to each other. I didn't know he was only 17. One year younger than I. after I was ready Shawn shook my hand hard as I sat on the bed.

“You were awesome. All the kids laugh at me at school.” I said. He squeezed my hand tightly before saying trying not to sob “Don’t forget me ok?”

“I won’t.” I brandished one of the four books I was holding and handed it to him, first though, I took a marker and wrote. May I be with you in spirit always? On the inside cover of the book, than I printed my name at the bottom of that short note.

“The giver?” he says in his deep black voice.

“Yes!” I say. Read it.

“But I may not have time-“

“Read it!" I sternly scolded him. “Trust me. A fellow reader. Please?” he took the book out of my hands. I was sad to see it go, but at the same time, I felt happy that I could treat someone to a good book. He reached along side his bed and pulled out a book. This, he handed to me. The title caught my eye the minute I laid eyes on it. Enders game.

“Now, I want you to read that for me okay?” I nodded, slowly taking the book. I said goodbye to Shawn, which was hard leaving a new friend behind, but I managed to keep my cool as I clutched Enders game to my chest.

The rest of the vacation I hung out with Shawn. Even though the nurses didn't like it, I wanted to take him out for walks. He was surprisingly healthy, even healthier than I am and ever was. I took him to the park where we had a picnic lunch; I even took him to his first movie. Shawn is an orphan, and no one adopted him. That's sad. He was also a great guide. He wasn’t mean to me because I was blind. He just looked at it as another obstacle, even though it was an extra one, it still was just a mere obstacle.

“You know people make obstacles sometimes” I blurted out one day.

“Okay, see, you are wise. Don’t hide it. It's refreshing.” He really threw me off when he asked me about love.

“Do you think love can be bought?”

“I do, but not with items or cash. Species and people can buy love, in itself. People, and animals, can buy each others love, and keep it, and share it.” He looked at me. Nodding.

“Go on.”

“They can do it by giving a little kindness, like a hug, or a kiss, or just even a kind heart, or just being a good…”

“Friend?” he cut me off quickly.

“Yes, can buy love. That's what I think.”

“Don’t let that wisdom go to waist doctor Phil.” I laughed so hard I choked on my hot dog.

One day, I gave him my home address, as well as my email address so he could write to me often. The nurses at the hospital loved me since I was so nice and shy, and funny. They typed up Shawn’s letters and sent them to me, I emailed mine to one of the nurses there, and she would print it out and deliver it the next day. On a Sunday, I'm in my room now, and I'm so tired. I want to go to sleep…

11/29/2007 12:44 PM

One day before I have to go to school. I sit in my room now thinking about Shawn, and whether or not he has finished the book yet. I hope so… I really do. No man should pass up great literature. People like me, and Shawn are never heard in the real world. No one even knows what a novel is anymore, and that’s sad. They would rather sit in front of a computer or play a video game. Readers must be rare, because Shawn is the only one who I know of that loves my love. And that is books. I do not know why this revelation hits me so hard now, maybe it’s because I never met a dying kid before, or perhaps I made the last few months, or days, or maybe even hours of a kid happy. I will never know. A box comes in the mail today. It’s the book that I gave Shawn 2 days ago at the hospital. Along side it there is a small note. I take it outside and read it. I also take the book outside with me as well. When I read the nurses note that says just four words, I have an aching feeling in my pocket. I don't know why. The letter says

“You made him happy.”

I open the book just now because I see something sticking out of it. I'm reading the letter now, and I have tears welling in my eyes as I do so. I will write the letter here, so I will never forget it.

Robert. The book was awesome! I loved it! So much literary elements are portrayed in the book, but I am sure you knew that already. Well, I hate to say this, but if you’re reading this, I'm already dead. When I met you, I was at my last breath. I knew I was going to die soon, but I didn't want to tell you I'm sorry. You did make me happy my last few weeks, and that's what a good friend is. I'm so sorry Robert. That's why I don’t, or didn't, like making any friends, because I know, or knew how much they would be hurting. I think though, that with you I have made the right choice. Did you read Enders game yet? I hope you did. There is a flaw in the book itself. See if you can find it for me. Will you? My mom says there is one, but I never could locate it no matter how hard I looked, there was no spelling mistake or grammar mistake that I could discern from reading it. Aside from that, I do not have the time now. I think you can though, you are smart. Very smart. I wish that more people could look past the deformities we have, and look at US. At what we have to offer as a person, but I know that will never happen. Not in a million years will people not laugh at the color of our skin, or the cane we hold in front of us. I was strong, now I want you to be the same way. Strong. Be the strong for all us readers out there who are too afraid to. So, my strong fellow reader. Solve that mystery that I could not, and keep my memory and me in your heart. Goodbye Robert. And keep reading!

I'm about to go to bed now, but I just want to tell you what happened after I read the letter. For a start, I was crying like a dying wale. No one could surmount to my sobs. And I didn’t care that people were staring at me. I stood there crying my eyes out for the longest time, then after that, I walked to the edge of the street paper in hand. I looked up at the setting sun, and tears came to me again. I had school tomorrow, and I didn’t want to go to English class. Mrs. Fonda was going to make us tell about our thanksgiving and I didn’t want to do that. As the glowing sun went to sleep in the darkening sky, I looked up at the heavens, and said my final goodbye. “I will Shawn. I will. No doubt about it. You can count on me.” And letting the paper go I watched it float away, spiraling and flipping high in the purple sky, toward the hospital.

breaking up with Windows Internet Explorer.

Dear Windows Internet Explorer,
Our relationship has been strained for a long time. Of course, it’s not all your fault, nor is it all mine. Our intermediary is also to blame: my hated

Gateway (insert string of numbers hidden somewhere on the computer’s body, necessary for purchase of any software) PC, which runs far too slowly and far too aggravatingly. But that does not get you off the hook.
You see, Windows Internet Explorer, I can no longer deal with your ridiculous loading time. Sure, at one time I found it attractive – even sexy – for my browser to take ages to log in or load a webpage. But not anymore. My life is fuller than it was, and I don’t have time for you to semi-load and then stop.
Also, as much as I loved it when we got together, your refusal to log me in to some of my necessary accounts, such as e-mail and MySpace, has become a problem. It was unfair of you, and I should not have submitted to your cruelty and mistreatment.
A third reason for my leaving you may seem mean: you are simply far too sickly. You are constantly contracting new viruses, and your immune system is terrible. I don’t have the time or the money to care for you anymore. It may seem unfair, but you will have to survive on your own. I cannot keep healing you, going through and finding all your corrupted files, cleansing our intermediary’s system because you have given it some virus, bug, or spyware. It takes far too much time and energy, which I do not have.
Windows Internet Explorer, you did wonderful things for me that, at the time, no other could do. But, my dear, times have changed, and while you have too, you have not changed enough. I am 16 now, nearly a grown woman, and I cannot tolerate your childish ways. As much as I once cared about you, I fear that the time has come for us to part.
Your former friend,
Kirstykaakes3
A.K.A.
fuoc0tanz3r
A.K.A.
jinx-raven94
(I’m sorry, but it seems I’ve forgotten the rest.)
P.S. When I clicked on you, then selected “uninstall,” I meant that I never wanted to see you again. I wanted you off my PC. I didn’t mean “create five new shortcuts.”

the dorm paradox week 4.

Monday, September 14, 2009

I'm in English class now looking out for Nick to show up. I don’t think he will. Last Friday I heard he was ill. I hope he's okay… but I am kind of glad he's not in English class. Today's going to be so much fun!

Correction… he just walked in. the moment he comes in his pitiful voice floats over the room.

“It’s such a long walk up there! I was walking in circles!” I snorted at him.

“So you had your first walk, huh?”

“Yes. It was dreadful!”

“You’ll get used to it. I did.” He glares at me with slight malice in his eyes.

“I don't know how you did it. That was torture!”

“I feel so sorry for you, and for all the people who have to walk that length every single day. I honestly do. I mean, poor people who had to trod that long trek for years and years!” he's not liking my words at all.

“Ha. You’re funny.”

“I know. Hence all the witticisms.” I boast with a smug smile.

Got to go. Mrs. Chancy is having us read the battle now. Bye.

I feel like an utter genius. No pun intended. No one in my class even knew what the word alliteration is. It's sad.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I JUST TOOK A TEST ON Muslims AND ISLAM. I think I passed because Mrs. Cory and I studied for like an hour last night before she had to go home. Nick is okay in the dorm as well, although when he saw what book I was reading at the time he nearly flipped like a lid.

“Tell me this isn’t yours! He says with an exasperated huff. I decided to play with his mind a little.

“Well, technically, it's the property of saint johns county public library system.”

“Is it yours or not…?” he asks with a huge grin stamped on his face. He's laughing at me. He's utterly laughing at me, and he won’t stop.

“You’re reading the notebook! Ha. You’re reading the notebook! I don't know you anymore, I just don’t!” I can't help but smugly grin as he laughs at me. I'm noticing that he's very closed-minded. Ha. The ball’s in my court now, and I intend to hit a line drive.

“You shouldn’t be laughing Mr. Nick, because it proves one thing you’re to blind to see.” He stops and gazes at me through his sunglasses. I guess it's a sighted person thing, but I don’t even see a reflection in his dark shades.

“It does! I'm not the one reading romance novels! Ha!” I just shook my head.

“I thought you of all people would understand. I thought even you would be on my side about it…”

“It’s almost as bad as reading the twilight series.”

“Well, obviously, you read it yourself.”

“You’re good.” He tells me. “My girlfriend made me read it.” I've got him now, and I show it as I sneer

“Oh, so your girlfriend held the book under your nose?”

“No but…”

“You read it of your own accord, so I don’t even want to hear you laughing at me.” He stops and looks at me.

“I under estimated you.”

“And…” I continue not wanting him to twist anything. “At least I'm a true veracious reader, and not just a semi one. At least I have an open mind.” He slums his shoulders in defeat. I grin! I'm so happy I can't even contain it.

“I'm sorry. Your right… I can't believe it… how in the world… I did under estimate you... wow…” I smile. “So I'm sorry.” He says resting a hand on my shoulder. Before you know it, we are both laughing our heads off.

In my room that night, Nick’s helping me with my poem, my last summary of Beowulf.

“I love how you write!” he gushes. “It’s so awesome, and I just love this line evil eye.”

“thanks.” I say.

“Although you do need some work with editing and stuff like that, but this is really good.” He actually means it. I can’t help but smile to myself. Even in Nick’s eyes, I'm a good writer. Wow, amazing.

It's late now, and the blackness of the night sky has enveloped us all. Nick left, biding me good night and stuff. Mrs. Cory came to see me so we could study, and she brought “the lost boy” with her. I've only listened to four chapters, but like two chapters are on one CD, so the chapters are actually huge. It's a good book and story. It talks about how Dave left his abusive mom, and went into foster care. The first book was just about the abuse and how he handled it. The second book is about after that, with him growing up and being a teen, getting friends, and putting his mom in jail. Well, I got to go. The periods almost over. I hope I can write in here later. I'm free from homework tonight so we’ll see how that goes. I just hope it goes well…

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I'm in my room now and it's late at night. I cooked something today! I cooked turkey burgers with French fries and green beans! It was so good even people are having some for breakfast tomorrow. That's awesome!

I do have to ask something that's been bothering me today. Do you think that being selectively social is bad for you? I don’t, but apparently, other people think it would be for my health if I try and make new friends. Envogue and Kevin and I are friends, and Gabe and I are a just acquaintance… that’s okay though… who cares if I cling to a few people here and there. At least I'm being social. You can't deny that's healthy. At least I'm getting human interaction. That's something, isn’t it? I will explain.

Mrs. Cory suggested I go to the canteen. And hang out… yeah… with kids I barely knew and kind of didn't like because they were so narrow minded. They liked me, that's the trouble… most people like me for one unknown reason after the other, but I don’t like a lot of people. Nick I like, but I wouldn't call him a friend just yet. He and I are nice to each other, but that's about all. I guess you could say we were half friends. At least, that's what I think now after the comment he gave me today… I was supposed to lead him to the canteen. He claimed it would be good for me to get out a little. As we walked, we talked.

“Yeah. Since I'm the only one who you talk to in English and all… kind of creepy dude.” What he said hurt my feelings. Yes, he was slightly arrogant and slightly pompous, but he was intelligent, and at the Florida School for the Deaf and the Blind, that's like finding a golden egg in a batch of normal eggs. I honestly, also, thought he was telling me you were annoying. I stare at him aghast.

“So you think I'm annoying?” I wanted to just leave him there in the dark. What a jerk!

“No!” he hastened. “No. your not. I like talking with you and to you, but I'm the only one you talk to in English.” This, sad, but true. It's true and I don't know what to do or say. The main reason, despite all his flaws, is that he has an open mind.

“Okay. I do those things; I'm like that because all I have are connections to people. When you came…” I fought so hard not to say, “even though you’re slightly pompous…” I continue again.

“When you came I felt you and I could connect since no one else can with me.” I didn't know how to explain what I wanted to say. I didn't know how to explain why I do that to people, and I didn't know how to explain being alone.

“I know. I'm just telling you for your own good, you know?” I didn't know. I didn't even have a clue. I also didn't know how to say how hurt I was. was he pushing me away? Did he want me to leave him alone? I don’t understand at all, and I didn't back then. Now, as we walk I try to explain.

“Look. No one else is like me here. You don’t know… you don’t know how elated I was to see someone who cared about knowledge for its own sake.”

“I understand.” He says in a semi flat voice. I honestly don’t think he gets it… as we approached the doors leading to the canteen, he stops me.

“You need to stop latching on to one person. Branch out. You’re too friendly not to have so many friends.”

“okay.” I said and slowly walk in the crowded cantina.

I did have fun despite my thoughts. I played bowling for some time, and that was so much fun I completely lost track of time. When it was 8:40, I dashed out of there and back to the dorm. When I got there however, my worst nightmare caught my eye. Mr. Evan was weighting on me.

“You’re busted!” He boomed. “But surely with your obviously hidden intelligence you can see that. You’re a smart boy.”

“You’re wrong. I'm not.” I had him last year, so I know how he operates, and this is another one of his head games. Stepping in the building, I quickly sign my name on the yellow return sheet. The clock just strikes 9 01 after I put the last letter on the pad. Smiling with pleasure, I turn to him.

“Your to damn smart.” He booms. “You were in the dorm after 9:00.”

“Yes I was, but I entered the dorm at exactly 8:59. I also had to talk with you, and look for and sign my name on that and. I got done directly at 9:00, which is not after nine.”

“It’s not in the same time frame.”

“It’s not open to interpretation.” I boast.

“Someday you’re going to feel my raff once more!”

I don’t think so.” We both laughed

“Just you wait. I will bust you some of these days.”

“Try…”

“No… I will do.”

I can't help but be scared out of my mind.

“I expect more from you!” was his favorite comment last year… but he's not my staff this year, so there’s no way he can role over me all the time right? Like I said, I can't help but be afraid.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Tonight I'm free. I'm in history class now, and I don’t want to do work. I need something to do tonight anyway, so it's not like I'm going to be doing any harm by not doing my work. She wants us to just read the section, but I can't just listen. To some person talk about Muslims. I took an English test today, and I got a 100 percent. No huge shock. I also talk with Mrs. Chancy about the newspaper. She wants to do it, but she's also hesitant about me. Even though I started it two years ago, a kid named David delicuere, though my favorite name is deliqueer, ran the paper. He didn't however seem interested in doing anything. He was just interested in people knowing that he will edit it. Whenever I would pitch in an article, he would immediately shoot it back at me.

“We won’t publish this!” he barks at me.

“But its entertainment, plus it has something to do with the school.” I say wagging my interview with a cane under his albino nose.

“Nope. Won’t accept it.” With that, he walks off leaving me standing there alone in the hall.

Now though David has no interest in the paper, and I really want to do it. I want to do it so bad I will even come early to work on it. I will work on it over the weekend even! Oh, how badly do I want to do it!

12:02 AM

I'm listening about Shakespeare now. Screw history. I'll do it tonight. It's no big deal on me. Okay, I'm bored. Got to go.

12:04 AM

Got to go to lunch now…

12:45 PM

I'm back in history now, and it's so quiet I can even hear air breathing. I've got something I want to talk about… in my last class of the day, which is home ec… there's so many immature kids in there. I'm not kidding. My whole class won’t stop laughing and hooting and shouting at each other like they're on a football field, and they all laugh at big words like “malignant.” I'm serious. I don't know if that's called being immature or just being stupid. There are two girls in there who are ringleaders of the fifth grade brigade as I call them. One of them is 16, and she has long blonde hair, and she's fat. Her name is Sarah, and she likes to write… I've never seen her writings before but my god… she laughed at the word sex.

“I've got a question.” I said raising my hand. Sarah beside me laughed like a hyena.

“Okay. What is it?”

“Well Mrs. Parsons… this isn’t about food, but since you teach sex ed…” I was cut off by massive giggling to my left. I looked to see Sarah covering her mouth trying not to giggle

“But when you have sex…” giggles erupt to my left. I ignore them and go on… “And had twins, how can twins be twins if they don’t look alike?”

“That’s a good question, but it has a good answer…” she goes on to explain about sperm chuckles came to my left again.

“Sperm! Ha!” she mumbled covering her mouth. I can't believe that she's doing this at all. Why is she being so… stupid! I mean I know she's intelligent but come on… actually I think she's only semi intelligent… you know, average?

“okay.” Mrs. Parsons says getting quite fed up. “If you don’t think you’re old enough to handle these types of things, go sit in the hall. “ I want to leap in the air and shout “hell yes!” Sarah and all the other kids in my class stop laughing at once. I'm the only senior in that class and I'm beginning to think that I'm the only one who's mature as well. I wasn’t like that, and in fact, even our class wasn’t like that. We were having conversations about rape, banning books, and drugs in some of our classes in the ninth grade. Bye. Got to go now. Talk to you later.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Last night was an easy night for me. I listened to more of the lost boy. I also finished go ask Alice. That book is one of the better books out there. The short version of my review is about this girl, who gets involved with drugs, and it's the heavy kind too, such as LSD, pot, ex, smack, etc. she gets into heavy drug dealing as well, a she soon ends up in an insane asylum. I don’t want to say anymore about it because I plan on doing a full review of it later. I do want to talk about something that happened last night however…

Mrs. Corey and I were talking like usual, and after I come down stairs, Nick’s waiting on me.

“Why are you up there so much?” I stop dead cold on the bottom steps.

“It’s a free country.” I snap.

“I know. I meant nothing by it. I just want to know why.”

“Because Mrs. Cory and I are friends.” I said hotly.

“I don't know if that's allowed.” I smile at him and cock my head.

“It is.” He walks into my room with me and sits on my bed.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks me.

“Sure.”

“Why do you like to read? Most people like to read for many reasons. Why do you like to read?” I don’t want to tell him the whole truth, not yet anyway, so I sit back and say “because it's a comfort for me. It's like my comfort food, plus it’s a way for me to entertain myself.” he stairs at me for about a minute.

“That’s all?” what is he doing? Is he trying to interrogate me?

“It doesn't add up with the amount you read. You devourer books as if they were candy and your wisdom didn't come from just reading fiction books.” He is interrogating me! That slime ball!

“You think so?” I was playing the old stupid card. It didn't work on him however.

“I know so.”

“fine.” I said and promptly turned away.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No. I'm not. Sorry.” He looked at me somberly.

“I wish I could be as strong as you” I have no idea what he's talking about.

“With Mr. Edwards?”

“Evan.”

“Yes. Evan. I heard that whole thing you and him had last night, about the time?”

I know. I at last won!”

“Huh?” he doesn't understand. He doesn't know that last night was the first time I ever won against him. I was just glad Mr. Ryins back.

“Ah. You ever met him?”

“No. what's he like?”

“He’s a nice ass hole.” I joke. “nah. Just kidding. He's nice and all, he cares about you and your needs and wishes, and he will help you if your honestly having trouble and not having this blind crap. If he really likes you, he will play head games with you”

“Sounds fun…” he says like he's scared out of his head.

“Aw. It's okay; he's not that bad you know?”

“I think I would rather be with Mrs. Corey or Mr. Ryan.” I laugh.

“Me too.”

9:59PM

I'm in my room now. We just had a meeting with marja about things such as not bringing space ships into the dorms, zapping humans, and eating brains and not cleaning up after ourselves. Just kidding, she just talked about various things like gossiping and electricity and stuff like that. Just a minor scold, nothing to complain about.

On the way over Mr. Ryan catches up to me as we walk. I don't know what he wants but he wants something. I know this because why else would he suddenly walk beside me. I want to turn and grin at him, but I restrain myself. After a bit of small talk he goes

“So there are just some things I want to talk to you about.” I'm dumbfounded as I listen to him talk.

“Okay. Who wrote that letter, you, or Mrs. Corey?” I'm a little puzzled by this, and I want to know why he asked me that, so I say

“I did, but she helped me with the spelling and grammar and all that stuff.”

“You write like that?” he seems genuinely impressed, but I'm lost as to why he's impressed. It seemed pretty ordinary to me. I follow up with “why?”

“Nothing wrong, I just wanted to know who wrote that letter so well. That was good writing. I never knew you liked to write. I knew you liked to read, but not write. You’re good, that was an impressive letter.” I'm still confused about what part he's talking about. The whole thing? I figure I’d better bask in the glory now while I can. I should have known my elation would be short lived. His silent shoes shuffles in the darkness beside me as he begins to voice a complaint I don’t even expect.

“The other day when you had Mrs. Corey study with you... well…” he slightly trails off and I have a fear that he's going to say, “we’re going to fire her because you two talk out of school!”

“Um, yes?” I hedge.

“Well it's just that I would like you to come and tell me your needs.” I'm stupid again. What is he talking about?

“Mrs. Corey… told you that I had to study, and you wanted me to come and tell you those things?”

“Yes. exactly. You know, I’d like for you to come and tell me if you need something, you know getting staff to tell people isn’t independence.” He's got a heck of a point but I didn't even know she did that, and I didn't order her to. I stay up late almost all the time because I know when he comes and checks the rooms so I know when to get into the bed.

“I know you’re used to certain staff here, but I'm going to be here all year, you know? I'm not going anywhere.” Does he think I hate him or something, because I don’t? I honestly don’t. He’s nice and all but my latch, unfortunately, was one dorm parent in here, and that was Mrs. Corey. I don’t hate anyone here, but how do I get that across to him? I'm just partial to certain people. Wow. I don’t mean to look like I hate people; I just cling to a select few. Damn. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but he sounds almost dead, like he's had this entire conversation before so I'm not even sure if I hurt his feelings or not. Street lights crawl by as we walk in slight silence.

“It’s not you. it's not just you, so don’t feel bad. I'm just selectively social.” I smile at him then continue.

“Hey, don’t give up. Maybe someday.” He laughs at my words, and we reach the meeting... we all file in and sit down, and listen to a lecture for about 14 minutes, then head back to the dorms.

Nick comes in my room to tell me good night, and he's badgering me about Mrs. Corey again.

“Do you and her have a connection? Like the force?” I laugh so hard I almost fall out of my inhabited bed.

“Yeah! She and I are apprentice and master. No. it goes deeper than that.”

“Why? I want to know why.”

“Because I'm selectively social.” I dodge, but he's smarter than that.

“You know what I mean. You and she share something.”

“Yeah. A connection.” He's getting fed up with my remarks.

“I just want to know why she considers you her son. Is that so wrong?” I don’t want her to get in trouble, so what can I say? I can't think of anything so I decide to answer his second question. Mrs. Corey and I were slightly joking as she came down to observe us gorge on food.

“Look mom.” I sarcastically sneer. “I've got vegetables!” she laughs before answering me.

“Make sure you eat them all, or I've got a salad upstairs if you want that.”

“wretch.” I say. Nick laughs beside me. I then try and cut my pork chops. I'm literally sliding the thing Al over the place when I resolve to asking for help.

“Mrs. Corey?”

“Yes Mr. Kingett?”

“Can you cut my meat?” she does.

“Mom’s try.” She says with a tint of laughter in her voice. Her blonde hair almost seems to dim it's radiance in this light. “I get to have a child without ever being pregnant! Awesome!” Nick and I laugh at her. I sit up as I interject.

“Yeah. I'm probably the best son you ever had here apart from Joe…” this makes her hoot.

“No. You’re one of the top 5 though.” Awesome! I wonder what number she placed me in.

“What about Joe?”

“In the top 20.” She sighs. “You’re less trouble than he is.” I grin broadly, as she finishes. Just to make her proud, I eat all of my food, even the green beans which actually rock.

Tonight's a good night so far, but now it's late, and I want to go to bed. I'm so tired I want to drop dead. Bye all. Talk to you next week!

Friday, September 18, 2009

I just wanted to say one thing before I go completely. I love it here. It's so much better in this apartment than the other one. Although, Mr. Edward, god for bid, don’t ever call him mister, because he'll flip out at you, scares me. He scares Nick as well so I'm not alone there. I guess it's his standoffish behavior. I'm guessing he's like me and only clings to a few people, and those are the ones he talks to. He's polite to Nick and me, but you can tell there's no spark shooting up or anything. Nick just thinks he's plain mean. When I pointed out that he's not, he's just reserved because he doesn't fully know us and trust us, yet is friendly even though he's a bit stand offish, Nick squeaks “how do you do that!”

“Do what?”

“Read people like that!”

“I don't know.” I answer honestly. I can't guess how old he is though, j Edward I mean. He's tall, he normally has a hat on, and he slightly resembles Cuba Gooding JR except darker skin and a big nose. He sounds young but cynical, which is fine by me. Somewhere along the line if we clash, that's fine. If we connect, that would be better, but I'm fine either way. He seems to like people he can trust, and with that like comes trust, so if he likes you, he trusts you, and if he trusts you, he likes you he doesn't know Nick and I, so he doesn't trust us, and therefore possibly doesn't like us. I'm just guessing here because I don't know. We will just have to wait and see how that goes. Oh, and he's sarcastic and wears glasses.

Okay all. Got to go pack. stay tuned for next week!