Zombie Apocalypse

The filth and blood residing on my face was disgusting. I was disgusting. My hands were used to kill and my body was used to intimidate. I was soulless. Every time before I bite, I look into their eyes. They twinkle with fear as I lean down to sink my teeth into their body. It makes me sad.  I'm scary. But, my victims scare me too. Day after day I sulk around with my dis formed body. Pathetic is what I am, really. . From a distance I can see some humans trying to plan  their survival. It won't be long until they're just like me. Resisting the urge to bite is something I battle everyday--but I always give in. It's an addiction. I am now making my way over to them and they don't see me.  

  Those humans are just like me now. I fixed them. Every time after I bite, I feel guitly, but it doesn't take long before I lose it. Most of my aquaintences--the ones like me-- they don't feel. It seems as if I'm the only zombie with feelings. We've taken over quite a bit of the country. It's funny because I always wanted to be responsible for America, I used to want be president, but not like this. Not with such evil and inhumanity in my fickleing heart.  My barricade from the humans is in a tall, tall evergreen. I climb slowly and knock hundreds of bristles to the ground while I settle to sleep. 

My dreams haunt me and I haunt others. Even though I try to be worthy, I will never amount to much.  I am a zombie and it will be that way until I am killed by a human. 

Blue Persistence Text Analysis

In the silent crescent moon air, 

A blue jay soars.---Going somewhere.

No reasoning. No purpose. 

She just soars.

No place. No physical spot,

But she knows where she's going.---Determined for her expedition.

Faith rests upon her soft blue wings,--She is faithful and confident in herself.

And they let her fly. ---Her confidence and faith helps her with her journey.

She flies to places where all the other birds told her she couldn’t go.---She wants to prove the birds wrong.

When she is perched proudly on top of a mountain, she chirped a prevailing chirp.—The blue jay accomplished her goal and was proud.

The other birds flew to the lowest branch of their grounded tree.--- The other birds weren’t so special anymore because they had a bad attitude that brought them down, hence the lowest branch.

Meanwhile, the blue jay remained on top of the tall mountain.--- She was strong willed and had a good attitude, so that benefitted her and put her in a "high" place. 

 This blue jay is strong and persistent. She’s been put down and has been told “No, no, no!”. The blue jay wants to be her own being and she wants out of the flock. When the blue jay begins to soar, as we see in the second line, we can tell she is determined to go somewhere even though she doesn't have an exact destination. In the line "faith rests upon her soft blue wings", that tells us that the blue jay is confident in herself.

 It’s common to be put down or discouraged by others.With that, the discouragement motivates that person, or being, to go and do exactly what they were told they couldn't. There is a line that says"she flies to places where all the other birds told her she couldn't go".This line reveals why the blue jay felt proud on the mountain and it even explains the following line which was "she chirped a prevailing chirp".

 When it said "the other birds flew down to the lowest branch of the tree", that isn’t just about how they simply moved their position, it was about how their attitude brought them down and no place special. The blue jay had a strong willed, determined spirit, so that’s why she was tall on top of the mountain. 

The Slavery,The Bravery, and The Free

1820 was the story  of the Missouri Compromise . Was Missouri going to be free and unable to command slavery? Or were they about to begin treacherous acts against unfortunate people? Well, for all any of the women knew of, there was just a disagreement in congress about these decisions . Of course, everyone wanted to be able to declare their own territories status, but that was in congress's hands.

"Elizabeth, What will our husbands do shall we become entitled to rekindle slavery?" Martha Bennett was the wife  of Nathaniel Bennett, the courageous leader of their  village.  Mrs. Bennett had a mind full of fear as she sat there questioning her best friend Elizabeth Samuels . Elizabeth took a long sip of her tea  while trying to stall an answer to that question. "Martha, you are not to worry about that as of the moment, focus on the children and keeping yourself  healthy. But, as I being your best friend, I am obligated to provide an answer full of my opinionated honesty. But, I don't know. I do not know what shall happen if violence is once again welcomed by the men of our blood. What I do know is that  our emotions  must be prohibited for there is nothing we can bring to this situation except a clean home and well fed men".

Cracking twigs and heavy breathing was all Elizabeth could hear as she sat on her front porch in the dark of the night. Out of the corner of her eye, Martha  is running to her embrace in her nightclothes! The decision was made that Missouri was pronounced as a slave state. "Oh Martha, I know, I know" Elizabeth tried to calm down her sobbing friend but nothing she said or did was enough to keep that woman from weeping. After five solid minutes of pouring her emotions onto Elizabeth's shoulders, Martha looked up with red swollen eyes and said "Our children. Our children will be surrounded by the disgust of violence this state is going to endear".  The two women had talked, and then decided to go to sleep, for the next day would bring swarms of emotions and opinions.

"Boom. Boom. Boom" Martha heard her husband Nathaniel coming down stairs with his loud clunky boots, as she hurried to prepare his breakfast and care for the children. "Maine was declared free. We weren't. Congress wanted balanced states". That was the only thing her husband said. Martha absolutely could not let her emotions show at a time like this in front of her husband and children. "Oh." She quietly replied while placing food in front of her husband. Between bites, Nathaniel had mentioned "Heck. For all we know this will be memorable history in the far future.  I can just hear people talking about it. Probably something like, way back when in 1820, Missouri was declared a slave state ." Nathaniel huffed and continued eating.  Martha hesitantly nodded in agreement as she boiled a pot of tea.

After  a day of cleaning and cooking, Martha decided it was a decent idea to write in her journal . The blue leather booklet had  dust crawling up the sides since she hadn't touched it in years. With reluctance, Martha began to write." I just don't understand. Why was Maine allowed free and we weren't? Why couldn't we be granted advantages for once? Sure, a lot of my state wanted   slavery, but not me. Not my family. I was informed today that every state North of us would be free, and every which one south will be a slave state .  Oh, the unfairness. "

 Time went on and the Bennett and Samuels families, and a lot more, dealt with things that were unthinkable to them.  They coped with each other and pushed through the hard times.

   

With her beige dress dragging up the stairs, Martha went to write in her even dustier journal. "It is year 1854 at the moment. I am 65 years old and still writing in my beautiful journal.  Slavery in our state was dropped  . Information is now going around about something called the Kansas-Nebraska act . I fear my husband is reaching illness. Terrible coughs and fatigue are overtaking his body. I must go take care of him right now."

Promotion Speech

Gandhi once quoted "Be the change you wish to see in the world". Change can be scary though. It's filled with fear, curiosity, and doubt. I know this all too well, like the most of us do. There's this time in our lives, childhood, where we think there is no evil in the world and that everybody could be friends and agree with one another. As we've grown, we've learned that that's not true. During this time now in our lives, we're transitioning to another state of mind where we'll learn more truth about and we'll learn to accept it more.

 Lots of people are nervous about leaving the comfort of middle school, understandably, but it's not meant to be that way. The next four years will be time spent finding out what we do best in and what we like. What we cherish and what we don't. Most importantly, it's where we'll be spending a lot of our youth. If we have too many fears and doubts, we won't have enough space for our dreams. And what's the point of that? So, diminish all the fears you have and turn them into joy.

In 2017, our high school graduation, you won't be the same person you are today. Neither will the person sitting  next to you either. Everyone will gradually change. As our personality matures, little parts of our soul will too, causing ourselves to evolve into something, or someone, much greater and wiser than who we are today.

As we run out of time at Asa Clark, my hope is that all of us let go positively and embrace what awaits us this fall.

                                           

I, personally, would like to thank all of my teachers over the past two years who have helped me tremendously when I needed it, and who have pushed me to excel in all that I do. 

The Giver Compare and Contrast Response

5/16/13.... In the community in The Giver, they have rules. All of us have to abide by rules, but theirs are strange.The people in the community have to abide by such rules so that their lives are  perfectly and meticulously structured. Their rules and way of life are very different than the way we live, present day. The Hunger Games  can apply to a strange way of life because their "community", or districts, follow very precise, stubborn rules. 

 On the other hand, The Hunger Games is not meticulously structured like the community in The Giver. The main goal in The Giver is to make sure everyone lives happily and stress/worry free. 

Plain White Dresses

The young and innocent communion recipients, just 3 years shy of a decade, file through the doors. Looking like angels, the girls' white veils rest gracefully upon their narrow shoulders. Black suits mature and compliment the boys as they escort the girls to the stage. You can almost smell the purity of the recipients in the tall chapel glistening with stained glass windows. One by one, heel by heel, the kids step onto the stage to stand by the priest. Encircling the communion contents that sit on the table, the kids stand quiet while they anticipate the upcoming moments. I saw myself in a little girl with fresh white daisies entwined in her veil. It brought me back to the day of my own First Communion.

     It was a typical Sunday morning, weather wise. The yellow daffodils were in full bloom and the sun was shining on the dark green grass. I saw a rabbit scurry across the backyard, as I watched from the window. My extended family began to arrive and kept telling me it was "my day". Prior to the communion, I never really had a special event for just myself, so it was unique to have "my day". My mom finished curling my hair quickly because I was antsy to greet my cousins. After saying hello and having breakfast, I had to change into my dress. When I stepped into the simple but elegant dress, I felt like a bride on her wedding day. Full of excitement and nerves, but a sense of comfort as well. A lot of my childhood I received hand me downs from my older sister, but this dress was mine. There wasn't anything that made it truly stand out from the others. No beading, no fake diamonds, not even lace. It was a simple white dress with nothing on it, but my 7 year old mind thought it was beautiful. It was my beautiful dress.

  I clasped a gold cross necklace around my neck and my mom pinned the veil in my dark brown ringlets. My chest was rising and falling with its own methodical rhythm, but I could feel my pulse increase as time went by. Swinging the door open, I ran outside, in my dress, headed straight to our garden. The white roses seemed most suitable, so I gently grabbed one from the ground. Happily enjoying the warmth from the sun, I wound the rose in and around my veil. It was then time to leave. 

 Most of us rode in my aunt's black suburban. Our church, Saint Elizabeth's, was only 5 minutes from our house, so it was very convenient. I was happy to be receiving my First Communion at this church. St. Elizabeth's was all I ever really knew. It was my preschool, my Halloween party location, where I made my first true friend Kaitlin, where I took religion classes, almost like a second home to me. Father Michael was my favorite because he possessed a lot of wisdom and generosity. I greeted him and then met up with my two close friends, Natalie and Rowan. The three of us got pictures together and expressed our excitement and nerves for the day. Everyone gradually took their seats because the ceremony had just begun.

   After the ceremony, all of our family and friends came back to my house for a party. One of the best things about that day was that I got to play and hangout with all of my cousins. As much as I would have liked to go on a bike ride or jump on the trampoline with them, they're all boys and they mostly just wanted to play basketball and go fishing in the nearby creek. I forced myself to do so because I didn't see them often. The party was coming to an end and I started to open my presents that I received from some family members. Two particular items that I got, which were the most memorable, were my grandma's old rosary and ring. My grandma died from a brain tumor when I was 2 years old, so I loved receiving the rosary and ring. Every day I pray with that rosary and wear the ring in honor to remember my grandma and my perfect First Communion. 

  I glanced back at the girl with daisies in her veil. She was beaming with a smile of pure happiness. The priest was asking some of the family members what their wishes were for the kids. A few people shared theirs and the priest concurred. My wish would be that they remember and enjoy this day vividly because it's a day they'll be able to remember forever if they truly care. My wish would be that they appreciate and accept the meaning of this day. My wish would be for them to remember the little things of this day; even their garden flowers and plain white dresses. The priest began with the first kid, "Do you accept the body and blood of Christ?" parents cried joyful tears and awed. "Yes", a little boy sweetly replied. I smiled and I wished that each little kid here today, would make a wish for themselves. 

Rejection At Its Finest

What if you weren't receiving the love you knew you deserved? That someone you thought you were going to be so close with, just shut you down in the blink of an eye? Seemingly, for no reason at all. Except  for them, the instant "shut down" revolved around multiple reasons. This scenario is exactly what Stacy faces in the story “Ribbons”, by Laurence Yep. Stacy’s grandmother moves from China to America and almost instantly rejects Stacy and focuses all of her attention on Stacy's little brother, Ian.

In China, boys are everything. Boys are the gold of the country. Girls are unsatisfactory to most people over there. Because of these reasons, this is partially why the grandmother instantly likes Ian more than Stacy. Ian’s a boy, and remember, he's "everything". Throughout the story, the grandmother is softer towards Ian, and is as cold as ice towards Stacy. 

 Even though it seems the grandmother likes Ian more because he's a boy , the grandmother could very much possibly be racist towards Stacy also.  In the story Stacy says “Everything about Ian looks more Chinese; I look as Caucasian as dad.”. The grandmother probably loves the fact that Ian looks more like her and that Ian is very Chinese looking. Because Stacy looks Caucasian, I think the grandma just forgot about Stacy and decided to praise Ian instead.

 Traditional Chinese people, specifically elders, are very strict and precise when it comes to their culture. A proper way to greet someone in China is to bow and to prohibit any emotion/affection.  Stacy had been taught to greet her grandmother with a bow, but when she saw her for the first time she got too excited and tried to hug and kiss her grandma. Her grandma rudely responded “nice children don’t drool on people.”. Then, the grandma continued to distance herself from Stacy. 

The grandma in this story rejected Stacy and loved Ian. If I were Stacy, I would've given up on the relationship, but Stacy kept trying. People, especially family, shouldn’t reject and dislike other people  if they don’t know them. It can confuse a person and make them feel like they don’t deserve someone’s love. Everyone should give others a chance because there could be a connection, like the grandmother and Stacy developed at the end of the story. After all, we accept the love we think we deserve. 

Goodnight World

A soft glow of the moon reflects onto the  sturdy evergreens in the silence of the warm September night. Subtly, a bird glides across the sky to it's nest to settle for a hushed sleep. Rabbits jump to their burrows and find peace. Half of the world settles down for the aged part of the new day. Breezes of a  determined  fall wind disperse their blows across the fields and over the hills, for the land to feel it's freedom.

  Little kids slip on their pajamas and reach for their favorite stuffed animal. They brush their teeth and comb their hair. Rubbing their eyes, they hug their parents goodnight and wish them a well sleep. While they settle into bed, their lamp is turned off and their eyes flutter to a shut. Another day of youth, another day of innocence has passed them by and prepares them for the next. They sleep, and they dream of places they'll go and things they'll do. Young dreamers, they are. 

This night inches toward dawn every minute that passes. Slowly, the earth is tilting to share the sun with the world."Night time is when the most beautiful and purest of things happen", a philosopher once said. And indeed they do.

Shadow

                 The light and glory shines on her.

                 People admire who she is.

                  Their thoughts? I concur.

                  Maybe it's her beauty, maybe it's her ability of showbiz.

                  I'm a shadow in her spotlight.

                  It doesn't feel wrong,

                  But it doesn't feel right.

                   I'll go on

                 

                  She'll go on. 

                   We'll go on.

                    We should,

                    

                   Together.... as sisters.
                 
                    Shadows can be good.

"Life Ain't No Crystal Stair"

Author's Note: I wrote this text analysis in response to Langston Hughes poem, "Mother to Son".

The symbolism in this poem are the stairs and every fault in the staircase like tacks, splinters, broken boards, etc. . I think the reason the author, Langston Hughes,used a staircase for the main symbolism is because life has many steps. Some small and some so big you don't know how or if you'll accomplish that "step" and overcome that "splinter". This author is very wise in how he told the story of a mother confiding in her son of what she's experienced and what he'll experience as time goes on.

 In this story, the mother is saying that her life hasn't led up to be something amazing. She experienced very hard times and never really had anything "easy". Those kind of things tend to build a person up though- toughens their skin, straightens their spine, and lifts their head. Sure, you can quit if you want to but it won't do anything for you. That's what the mother is trying to tell her son that even though it's tough, you can't just give up on something you were supposed to gain victory from.

 Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

Rain Serendipity

Many people hate  rain. They hate the coldness and dark surroundings that  the peculiar little drops bring. They hate what the rain does to their mood. But honestly, I like rain. It's a refreshing factor to have a cleansing on the ground. What I love most though, is putting on a pair of rain boots and standing in the rain. I just stand there. No dancing, no singing. Just standing and thinking of my blessings. I think of  the people in my life, the opportunities I've been given. I think about how fortunate I am to live the way I do. 

 It's not that I hate the sun. I love sun too, there's just something I like about the rain. 

Neonatologist Interview Template

• What are your typical days like?
• What's the most interesting case you've seen?
• Knowing now what this job is like, if you could, would you go back in time and change your specialty?
• What's the most rewarding part of your job?
•      Do you have any advice for people seeking this specialty? Maybe, doubling up in bio in high school or college....something relevant to that. 
•     Do you spend more time doing things hands on with your patients or more time doing evaluations and assessments?

For the final product, I would like to do a traditional informative essay because I think it would be the most efficient and successful way to get the correct information into it. 

   Outline

Paragraph 1: Intro of job

Paragraph 2: What an average day is like

Paragraph 3: Pros and Cons

Paragraph 4: 

Paragraph 5: Conclusion 

This Life is Amazing

Author's Note: I came across this quote by Dr. Suess on pinterest. I became so drawn into it and became inspired. This response may seem like my head is in the clouds, but it's an honest response.

"Because when you stop and look around, this life is pretty amazing". This quote, spoken by Dr. Suess,  can never get old to me even if I've read it one million times. The thing I like best about it is that it says "this life"and not "my life". I like that best because yes a ton of people face massive hardships everyday, yes a ton of people are putting up with stuff they don't need to, yes there is ugly in this world. But, if there was no ugly, how would we find great joy in the beauty of things? Not everyone has a great life of there own, but the life that we all lead in unity is in a way amazing. 

  A lot of us wake up every morning with the problem of not wanting to get out of the warm blankets while others wake in fear of not being able to find breakfast for themselves. There are demons we all face. It doesn't matter if your old, young, rich, poor, famous, original, educated or not....we all face demons of certain things. But, when we have a chance... a chance to escape those demons, we go to where we might find serendipity. For some that's the mall, and for some, like me, its a quiet place. Somewhere where we can embrace the true beauty and find something amazing, and just think to ourselves or even perhaps think out loud for some. No matter what, there's always going to be bad things or things we hate in this world. But,we get to experience so much that they balance each other out and leave us with nothing else to think of besides amazement. 

There Used To Be a Time...

Author's Note:  I wrote this piece while I was in math class last a few weeks ago. At first, I just had a phrase repeating itself over and over again in my head and then I had a whole paragraph written out. 

There used to be a time when we all used to run around barefoot together, catching fireflies and freeing them.

There used to be a time where judging one another was unthinkable.

 The only thing we fought about was whose favorite color got to be pink. What happened to running wild and running free? We'd dance in the rain and look like freaks even when we knew people were looking. It didn't matter what our hair looked like or what clothes we were wearing. We only saw each others hearts and now...now we base each other on appearance and popularity. If this is what growing up is like, then I want time to freeze. I miss my youth. I miss the old me and I miss the old you. 

An ocean may just seem like a large body of water, but truthfully, it's an evolution of life. Life is connected in every which way to an ocean. There's life beneath, within, and surrounded by it. Cupping a handful of that salty water entitles you to be a beholder of life.  Deep down inside you, you can find that "ocean" in your soul.  Find the spark of yourself that never matures or ages. Imagine your waves of innocence and purity that are limitless and infinite  like indeed the sapphire waves of the Atlantic.  Use them to innovate part of yourself. Let the waves carry your spirit to the blue, blue sky and far beyond where nobody and nothing can defy you.  

Only A Human-Reprise

Her smile is taken as the moment proceeds.- metaphor because a smile can't literally be taken 

Crashing down, comes her world.-metaphor because it’s an unrealistic statement without a like or as to make it a simile.

                                    The words her friends speak build her up, strong and steady- hyperbole because it's an exaggeration 

                                    

 While inside she's breaking, quick and easy-metaphor because she isn’t physically breaking.

 cause there is repetition of this phrase 

                                     She goes on.-start of anaphora be

                                 

                                     If only people knew.

                                   How would they react?

                                   With empathy? Sympathy?

                                   

A world of secrets is held back while she faces the public.-hyperbole because she has many secrets but this statement exaggerates it by saying “a world”

                                     She goes on- Anaphora because it’s a repetitive phrase

                                 Dark, painful day. 

                                 Life threw its strongest curve-ball--metaphor because it’s a statement

                                 But she was not ready to bat. 

                                 More horrible moments are to come.

                                      She goes on.- Anaphora because it’s a repetitive phrase

                                  One can only stay so strong before they have to be human.

                                  When will her time be?

Her shoulders get heavier. And heavier. And heavier.- Hyperbole because it is an exaggeration statement.

                                  Heavy enough to  fail.

                                 Will she go on?- end of anaphora

Letters of Annoyance

Author's Note: I wrote this about my scoliosis. It's been on my mind lately and is distracting me and I thought this piece was the perfect way to express that. 

                                                                 

                        

                                                   S

                                                    C                 

                                                 O

                                                    L

                                                 I

                                                  O

                                                S

                                                  I

                                               S

  Dear Curve,

   Why do you have to exist? What is your excuse? You know, you really do cause a lot of problems for people. I am distracted by you. Every day, 90 percent of the time you are a lingering thought in my mind. The dumb curvature you are, sparking questions, I ask myself “What if I need surgery like poor Isabelle?”  or “Are those  uncomfortable sharp pains I experience caused by you?” . Other times I even ask “Can something be neurologically wrong with me?”.  I will get of rid of you. You’ll be leaving my back in no time. Hopefully. Until my doctor’s appointment,  please don’t cause me pain. You’re just another bump in the road. Literally.

                                                          Sincerely,

                                 Very annoyed  teenager

  

Dear "Very Annoyed Teenager",

I’m sorry I am complicating things. An arced spine can’t be that bad. Right? Just hang on. Your Doctor will find a way to rid me off. Unfortunately for me, doctors  always do. As much as I like being scoliosis, I know we must part ways. For your well being, I will leave. Your doctor will make you get x-rays for a few more years just to make sure I am gone. I will try to leave, but nothing is promised or guaranteed.

                                                Sincerely,

                                Your Agitating Curve

Only a Human

Author's Note: I didn't write this poem about me. I wrote it about other girls who I've encountered before.  As I kept writing it, I found it got easier and easier to create the poetic story of a girl who tries to stay strong for so long, but she can only hold so much. 


                                    Her smile is taken as the moment proceeds.

                                   Crashing down, comes her world. 

                                   The words her friends speak build her up, strong and steady,

                                   While inside she's breaking, quick and easy

                                                She goes on. 

                                   If only people knew.

                                   How would they react?

                                   With empathy? Sympathy?

                                   A world of secrets is held back as she faces the public.

                                                She goes on.

                                 Dark, painful day. 

                                 Life threw its strongest curve-ball,

                                 But she was not ready to bat. 

                                 More horrible moments are to come.

                                            She goes on. 

                                  One can only stay so strong before they have to be human.

                                  When will her time be?

                                  Her shoulders get heavier. And heavier. And heavier.

                                  Heavy enough to fail.

                                         Will she go on?

Abandonment

Author's Note: I wrote this point of view piece on the book My SIster's Keeper. I focused on the character of the older brother Jesse because nobody ever seems so pay attention to him and it's sad. 

In My Sister's Keeper, Kate is always getting sympathy from someone because she has AML. It's a rare form of leukemia. You could only imagine what her parents and siblings are going through. Kate's 13 year old sister, Anna, is her donor and has been a donor for her whole life. Kate and Anna are both frequently in and out of the hospital. Their parents have no time for the older brother Jesse because they're lives temporarily revolve around Kate and Anna. How do you think Jesse feels that absolutely  nobody pays the slightest bit of attention to him?

The book is mostly out of Anna and her parents point of view. They talk about how tough it is to have a daughter with cancer.Or, when told in  Anna's perspective, how unfair it is for her to sacrifice things about her own body and her own life to undergo another invasive surgery. Jesse however, has very few parts in the book and he is always left in the dirt to fend for himself. Nobody ever asks him simple questions like "hey, how was your day?" or " how are you?". He is left alone to figure and sort things out himself. The readers of this book always feel sympathetic towards the parents and the sisters, rightfully so, but the readers  never think about how it affects Jesse. People think " wow, that lucky older brother just gets to live his life". If the whole entire book was told from Jesse's point of view, the story would be completely different . 

Interpreting the story correctly is key. You can't judge or criticize other characters if you don't have a lot of information. Sure you can make predictions or inferences, but can you really make a factual statement about them? No, you can't because just like Jesse in this book, characters are often perceived differently to many people. 


 I recreated a scene from the book where it was originally told in the mothers point of view, but I typed it in Jesse's point of view. 

Does anybody know I exist? Can anybody see me? I stand directly in front of them and appear translucent. So what if I drink? So what if I smoke? So what if I do marijuana? Nobody cares what I'm up to anyways.  I'm out of sight out of mind. Kate's their prized possession who takes up 90% of their time. The other 10% goes to Anna who is their fragile doll. They spend their time with her explaining the next procedure she will be having. God forbid anything happen to Anna. That would mean no stem cell transplant. That would mean no bone marrow transplant.That would mean no existence of Kate. I however, am like a little piece of dust to my parents. Pointless and unacknowledged. 

I beat  up some kid in school today. Nothing serious, just a black eye and a bloody nose. The principal lectured me in his office for a good hour about the famous " treating people the way you want to be treated" crap. Every agitating word that came out of that  mans  mouth sounded like a foreign language. All I could think about was wanting to smoke. My dad lectures me about the whole "you'll get emphysema" thing about once every four months. I don't care. Nobody will miss me if I die. I rolled my eyes at  the principal while he called dad and told him Islammed that kid. I don't think Dad will care because Kate relapsed again and is having another lymphocyte infusion today from Anna. Pretty big  procedure if I may say so myself. Leukemia seems like a downer. Poor Kate. Oh well, not my problem.

Mom's on her way to get me, surprisingly. She's probably going to yell at me or something stupid like that. 

 I love Kate. And I love Anna too. They're my sisters. Kate having cancer is the worst. I don't get involved with any of it though. Nobody needs to know I care. Nobody. 

Skeeter vs. Lily

               Skeeter                                              
  Middle class, average family              
 Lives in Mississippi (Story takes place in MS)



             Both
 Brought up to discriminate blacks
Black maids who have strong influences on them
 Not racist  
  


            Lily 
Bad home environment 
Lives in South  Carolina( Story takes place in SC)

Lurkers of The Dark

Author's Note: The idea for this creative piece came about while I was reflecting on previous holidays. I was longing for the spontaneity,excitement, and suspense of Halloween while staring at the melting snow on the first day back from the holiday break. 

Bloodcurdling masks rest upon the most innocent as halos hover above the darkest.

     

Citizens of all ages spontaneously ringing doorbells like none other. Three effortless words roll off their tongues like a bowling ball rolling down its aisle. Little kids eat candies that crumble on their festive outfits allowing it to messily smother.

 Teenagers quest to find a spine chilling haunted house. Friends squeal while neighbors glorify a baby disguised as a mouse.

Even after hearing the harmless "trick-or-treat", you  shall not be deceived by those who saunter on all Hallows Eve.