"No, I’m not. Who are you to tell me what I’m supposed to be?" That's what my eyebrow said, arching like a frightened cat. I'd heard it many times before but never in a serious way. It was always in a joking manner, a manner that got old after the six-thousandth or seven-thousandth time- I lost count. It was cold in the counselor’s office, a small room on the second floor of my aging school. It was also unbearably quiet. Usually the sound of my kind, and mild mannered counselor hard at work would restore a comfortable volume. Not now though, as it was only my 5th grade teacher and I facing off about the recent drop in my GPA.

I don’t know where or when my last name came from, but it must have stuck considering no one decided to change it. I can understand why though, I mean it’s and awesome name to have! It never gets old to see the

awkward “really?” face people make when I introduce myself. And on rare occasions, when people assume I misspoke meaning “Beast”, “bet” or my favorite,  “Brest”. And the puns… the endless, puns. Always from older people though, rarely from kids my age. I think we realize how lame it is to make fun of someone’s name especially when it’s not even really all that impressive. I wonder if my ancestors faced the same thing.

         I guess I can’t blame them. They’re just trying to get a quick yuck and maybe cheer me up in the process. Not this time though, I could tell in his eyes that this was for real. He actually expected me to somehow be better then everyone else in my class! As if my name somehow had supernatural powers to affect the universe. What a joke! Does a guy named Miller have to love beer or work a textile? What about a black guy named White, or a white guy named Black? Or a depressed person named Feelgood! I wanted to give him a huge chunk of my mind after a long speech about how “I’m better than how I’m performing” and how he “sees great things in me”. But all that managed to stumble from my lips was a humble

“Okay”.

         I suppose an unrecognized sense of title comes with one’s name. Studies show that a name is automatically considered in a persons natural stereotyping. I’m not saying racism is natural, but what I am saying is that you must be aware of how people see you and of first impressions. Don’t allow yourself to be bottled within your own title, but instead force people to see you for what you do instead of what your called.

- Anthony Best

“Julian! Julian! Julian! Get up!” Or “Wakey wakey eggs and bacey!”

She would reply,

“Shut up! Go away.” Or “Yeah, yeah, yeah I am up!”

After that my parents would go in and try to get her out of bed, it never worked. It was always time for me to go to school eventually so I said bye and thought on my way to school, good luck!

Always being one of the smartest people I know. Doing her work, and helping me with homework. She was always the stereotypical idol of an older sister. Getting straight A’s, and just hoping that I would too. Trying her best and just looking at all her projects she did and how I was thinking, I can’t wait to do that. Always known as someone who has great potential. Then high school began. Where was my perfect sister Julian? Thinking oh, it must be a ninth grade thing she will be okay in a week or two. Me being in sixth grade I didn’t know any better. But, she continued not doing her work and not going to school. How could it be someone so smart is now not getting good grades? There is definitely a mistake. Freshman year went by for her, but it felt slow for me. Sophomore year came, Julian is going to do great this year I just know it! All I remember is her not wanting to attend school. Having arguments back and forth with my parents. As if screaming was a normal tone in my house. Shedding tear by tear, if only I collected them all.

Time went on, for a couple months. She was hoping she would get into this program to study in Israel for the rest of her sophomore year. There she went, January 23^rd 2009 off to Israel for school until June. Maybe she will do her work. I guess that was okay, but then junior year was coming. The most important year of high school.  September until November she was still enrolled in public high school. Did she go? Nope. November until June was the most successful months of high school with a new school. I could tell that my mother and father were so happy that this new school was working. So excited not just for a full year ahead of us, but senior year. But then it actually came. The first day was picture day, so she went…but late. From there on it was a couple times here and there but that ended in November. I remember talking to her one time about it because I felt brave that day. I was obviously scared that she would throw something at me other times, but not this time.

As I was stumbling to get my words out, I said, “So why don’t you attend school?”

Her reply, with an attitude coming on and a grunt, “None of your business. AND you don’t even have to go after you 16. BYE!”

Now I wish I could have got in her head, so she could of made the right decisions. Ironically, her essay for her college applications were about, how to make good choices. Unlucky for her, but lucky for me that she had to learn the hard way. From her bad mistakes/decisions I know what to do and what not to do. It has made me want to try more in school and never want to be absent. I was always obsessive about absences and lateness’s but it has recently had a great affect on me. She didn’t even realize she was teaching a lesson to me through all the struggles she went through. Although it is all about how it affected her, it also had an outcome on me.

This was happening to someone who’s room was right above mine. Who was there when I was born. Who has been, and always will be my older sister. So don’t think that just because SHE didn’t do her work, or SHE didn’t wake up for school, or SHE didn’t make great choices at times, it only affected her. The affect on me was not only for me to learn but also for me to know right from wrong. It is somewhere I never want to be in life, and to have to experience again. It motivates me to strive for excellence. In the long run, she ended up learning right from wrong. The ends of her suppose to be senior year she took the G.E.D. testing and did fantastic. She got into all eight colleges she applied to, and is now currently in Israel on a gap year program before college studying at Hebrew University, and then living on a Kibbutz. So sometimes you can’t just pass go, and collect two hundred dollars, some people have to work for it. 

“We back here again!” The two sliding doors flew open. The lights were bright. People everywhere. I think to myself, “It must be my baby cousin with the bad case of the runs.” I call him Poo Poo Kazoo. Sounds coming from everywhere. Coughs, sneezes, ambulances, and babies crying. The smell was awful; it smelled like vomit, cafeteria food, and sick people. I stayed close to my aunt and my brother stayed close to me. We were walking like we were in a scary movie about to get murdered. My aunt asked, “Where is room 436?” to a man that looks like cookie monster. He had on a bright blue uniform on with a badge that said “Front Desk Security.” The guy said “4^th floor then a left.” We got on the elevator and went up, which seemed like forever. Finally the fourth floor. We went down this long hallway, the light got dimmer and dimmer. Then there was the room, room 436, the numbers made me nauseous and nervous. I was scared. There were old men with their hairy, wrinkly butts dangling out the back of dotted pajamas that looked like sheets. The door too room 436 was cracked. We walked into the dark room with a television playing, and the news was on at a very low volume. Then I slid back the blank white curtains and I couldn’t believe who it was.

I was eleven years old, being scared and nervous was occasional, but this point in time tiny red ants were running every where in my tummy more than usual. Sometimes strange things happen and time freezes. I either want to run away and dismiss it or face it. Being eleven I couldn’t face the issue that punched me right in my red ant filled tummy and quiet frankly I didn’t understand. Sickness is part of life, but a cold was the worst I ever got sick. I coughed, I sneezed, and my throat hurts. But never was I put in a hospital bed.

When I slid the curtains back and seen my Father, all the red ants fell out my butt. The horror in my eyes, as they burned before the lava fell from them, I was just so distraught. My mother sitting there, with a pale sick look on her face. She didn’t even say “Hi babies”, like everyday when we come from school. I studied my father like I had a test the next morning on a big black man in a bed. He had snakes shooting venom in his arms. Something breathing for him, and one half of his body moving and the other half practically dead. As I stood back for a while, I felt like a sponge; I was absorbing all that just happened. But I got the courage to walk, to the man I didn’t even notice. I slowly grabbed his hand; my hand was shaking it has never done that before. His hand was rough and fragile, his eyes popped open, and I whispered, “Dad why did you have a stroke?”

Being 15 now, I understand seeing someone you love at a young age on the edge of life or death is difficult. So many questions that need to be asked but at that point in time, you cant even regurgitate the questions you would like to ask. This day I grew up and moments like this in life you don’t want to take it for granted. I looked at life in a whole different view, because someone can be gone today or tomorrow and not saying I love you can hold on to you forever. Being 11 I got a clearer understand of death and what causes death, but honestly we are born to die.

 A gentle tear trickled down my face as I said “I would do anything you ask, are you in here because I spilled all of your cologne?” He grabbed my hand tight, tight enough to lose circulation and chuckled.

He kissed me and said, “I love you young lady, and no matter what happens life changes.”

“I love you too dad”, and I let go of the sand paper hand and left room 436.

“Oh, wanna go to South Street?”

“Naw, that’s not a good idea. We do that all the time.”

I was walking down the street with my friends, all of us board.

All of the sudden I had a bright Idea.

“Hey there’s a ware house on front and Washington we should go and explore it and see what’s up.”

My friends give me a weird face

Alex responded with “I don’t know man, it don’t seem like a good idea”

I responded to “Come on guys we should go do this it might be gone someday and we

will never get a chance, come on we only live once.”

Alex agreed “your right we do only have one life to live let take it to the limit”

We headed down to the warehouse to see that the door and windows where covered with wood panels so we tried to pull the off but it was no use. So we went home and decided to try tomorrow. We went back and tried again and we knocked the board down, and walked up the stairs, but all there was up there, was a broken window, and open walls that were broken down.

“Wanna go to the basement?” Moe asked

“Sure, up here is boring me.” I said

we made our way to the basement and found ourselves a set of stairs that lead to another basement that had a twisty staircase that went to the basement, and had no lights that lead us down so we decided to get fireworks, and a flashlight at the corner store. To buy such things and it got too dark out so we decided to do it next weekend because we had school the next day and it wasn’t worth getting in trouble over skipping school, so we were talking in school all week about what we thought was in the basement

“yo, dude if there is a dead body I’ma jet outta there” said Moe

“moe you can’t run if there was a Twinkie across the street” replied Alex

we couldn’t wait any long we decided to skip school on Wednesday and went to the ware house we where all nervous about if the teacher would find out or if we get caught, and get arrested 1000 things was going through my head and I couldn’t think straight and I was getting to the point of just not going into the basement at all I was at the erg of giving up and going to school, but I went through with going into the warehouse. Even though they won’t admit it my friends were as nervous as me.

               But this wasn’t the first time.

I never felt hurt over the way I looked. But one day, getting lost on the way home was a rude awakening to a problem that is still around. It was the first or second month of high school and I was still new to the route leaving to go to school and coming home from school. I got on the wrong bus, the 26 instead of the 20 and I got nervous with butterflies in my stomach and eyes tearing up, for no reason, so I didn’t ask the bus drive if this is the right route to take to get to Buslten and Comly. Calling my mom, worried, lost of course, but not scared, I started to walk in the direction of my house and needed a little help to exactly find the street I was on, I was ignorant to the fact that I have never seen such a beautiful place to live. I saw a lady who seemed quite friendly so I asked her “Can you direct me to Buslten?” and she ran from me. The thoughts that ran through my head, A BIG BLACK KID with a school bag, manners, and who was about 10 feet away walking towards her, what made her run?

But this wasn’t the first time.

            Living in Philadelphia you meet a variety of diverse Philadelphians but also a variety of diverse tourist. They may hear different things about African Americans who live here and assume they all act out in a way of violence. When they see me they look scared and ready to jump out of their shadows and run away. Don’t get me wrong there are some non-races diverse human beings. For example, most of my teachers have been and will be more Caucasians than any other race. I have had roughly less than 10 teachers of my own race. The reason I think that is because a lot of us dream about progressing out by playing basketball, football, rapping and singing. Even thought some progress out of Philadelphia with basketball, football, rapping and singing. Yes, some make it but the ratio for one person making it is One in a Million. Basketball, football, rapping and singing are much harder jobs then any nine to five job.

One saying I like to use is “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. The meaning of this phrase is don’t assume that you won’t like a person because of the way they look. Racism dates back to the Africans being enslaved, The Holocaust and other events in history. People like Martin Luther King Junior, Rosa parks, Malcolm X, President John F. Kennedy. They fought for us to be able to live without fear. They marched for freedom and three of the leaders I mentioned were shot dead because of the movement behind one person’s thought. To me, racism is the ignorant judgments by one person taught to another.

I walk into stores and am profiled because I am a young African American male. To some people I am intimidating because I am big for my age, well, weight wise and height wise not so much. I try to fit into different crowds of people because when I get older I want to become a government agent, so I might have to go undercover. I’m not as affected as much as I would a long time ago. But I still feel some type of way.

I know that I will always be profiled or be expected another type of racism. I wish that we as human beings could see ourselves as one race. If that ever happen all the great leaders who fought for us all to be equal will turn over in their graves and rejoice. This world will never be perfect so I will live day by day and learn from the lessons taught to me in everyday life. First Lesson Racism Is Still Part Of Every Day Life! But this won’t be the last time.

Sidney Williamson

Ms. Pahomov

English 2- Band

9/18/11

“Hahaha” They laughed.

…..This was normal, the usual, nothing special.

It’s more or less become a routine. I sit down and take my seat.

I sit there, looking over all of them, six "happy" faces.

They all sat there, each one defeated at one time or another; I'd seen it all happen. Arthur and Quentin, sitting there laughing at his ever rude and unforgivably offensive jokes...Worshiping him in a sense. As if he'd given them all life again. What I never understood was, how these boys, who deemed themselves so strong and tough, never stood up to him…

 I sat next to my supposed best friends.

 It was like...watching the Titanic sink. The cold ocean water engulfing the large ship and anything it could take with it, That’s how it was. Anything he could take, he would. We all knew it was fake. He knew it was fake, but then again did he?

I sat there in my seat, wondering what kind of joy this brought to him. I looked him up and down. I knew why they all acted as if they hated me, it was his fault. He never liked me, he noticed when I looked at him and his followers in disgust, and that was when he attacked, the jokes about my clothes, my hair, anything that he thought would hurt me emotionally he did.

 I sat there, no real friends, just me, myself and my pride.

It wasn’t like this had all happened out of the blue though, I knew why he hated me, we all did. Everyone had heard the story, different versions, but it to him, we all had to deal with his over inflated ego, and I guess I just got

tired of it. It wasn’t even me who he was attacking, when I did it, it was my friend. He was being mean to her, not because she had done something to him, because he could. I just guess I just got fed up. After that he never really “attacked” me per say again, he’d hit me several times before, even though he “didn’t hit girls”. I guess I just hadn’t counted at those times.

I had a really hard time in the last few years of Middle School, and it was primarily because I was myself, instead of being someone that someone else wanted me to be. 7^th grade was the first time I told a guy I liked him, and he was probably one of the best guy friends I ever had, but I was just really embarrassed when he said no. I hadn’t wanted to tell him in the first place…but my friends got my hopes up so high, that that was all there was

really nothing else left to do. After that I sort of fell into a…black hole per say. I just started ignoring everyone, and having a hard time being happy.

My “best friend” started flirting with the guy I liked, and I was eventually diagnosed with Clinical Depression.

I don’t think I have it as bad these days, but I get weeks where I will be suicidal or just hate everyone and my life, and I’m just overall unhappy the majority of the time…But if I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, because everyone goes through struggles in their life, but I think the tough things are what make us who we are. If life was easy, and everything was handed to you, it wouldn’t be any fun.

So In 8^th grade, it wasn’t too bad in the beginning, but being separated from my class for half of the last year, you do start to notice things, because your more an observer than anything else. Oh and did I notice things…my eighth

grade class was a dictatorship, no question about it. You were not to stand out, you were to be exactly as normal as possible and if you weren’t you

were not accepted. I was the weird one. I always have been, and I most likely always will be, I don’t mind though. I actually have learned to embrace

it in the last few years between 8^th grade and now. I think I’m absolutely as crazy and complicated as I need to be right now, because if I were meant to be “normal” I would be. 

                                                              Costa Rica

I felt the water rushing beneath our yellow raft as it bounced from rock to rock like a pinball hit by a devoted player. These were just one of the activities plan for my eighth grade trip to Costa Rica. This was my event and I loved it. First of all the day was “perfect,” after depleting my host house supply of corn flakes (The real breakfast of champions) our class” piled into an old van and headed of for the rapids.  I was the front paddle a position reserved for the strongest. I got to lead my crew threw the nooks and crannies the river. However the home trip would lead to me catching man’s greatest enemy the common cold.  Most kids see a cold as a neat way to get out of school and watch TV, but I see a cold as a day or two of my life wasted. Our school had fundraised for this event all year. We sold tacos, beans and rice, salads, pies, and other popular food every Wednesday. We got people to sponsor us. We started a small coffee Business. We even host a fundraising event with food prizes and a live band. SO I BE DAMMED IF I MISS A SINGLE DAY ON THIS TRIP! This was my mindset when a got a headache coming back from rafting.

Maybe I overreacted when I yelled at my fellow students

Or when I made my teacher cry

But, venting anger on others means I won’t go mad

When lying in bed with a temp of 105

Now I rarely get sick but when I do get sick it is usually takes me 3 to 4 days to recover, then a few more days to get back to myself. I always show the same signs when I get sick a continuous cough or/and sneeze, watery eyes and goose bumps. So when I developed a cough with goose bumps going up and down my arms. I knew I was sick, but I denied my classmates questions of  “are you ok” “ you don’t look good” with “I’m fine” for I although being a smart person convicted my self that if I did not act like I was sick, I would not be. But I was, for when going to one of our tour guides house I had to use the toilet to throw up in spite of my good acting of being well.

I had to be driven back to my host family’s house. They gave me Tylenol and sent me to bed. That night I tossed and turned in my bed when it hit me I had not taken off my shirt from the rafting trip; it was still damp from the river water. My body was not used to the water of Costa Rica (that’s why you don’t drink water form other countries)

Looking Back I could have acted better but I am me and I can’t always do every thing for other I learn how I react to when thing don’t go as plan and how to deal with it. I saw people who were try to help me as holding me back. I don’t like working with others always but some time I have to let someone help me.                     

-Sigh- I remember this day as if it happed yesterday. I was minding my own business just walking along the shoreline. I was wearing my amazing black swimming shorts and showing off my mike Tyson body. My abs were rock hard and my mussels had veins popping out. Like, I was Rambo for no reason.

I was checking everyone out on the beach and laughing at fat old heads that were laying on the beaching thinking they had a body like me. I turned and I stopped to look over at the horizon and the birds or seagulls if flying and the laughter of children and people enjoying their lives. I decided to be like David Husaloff and just run into the water and do a swin dive like that guy off the old spice commercial.

So I did and I thought that I was swimming when I was just really on all fours doing a doggie paddle. Then as the water current pulled me into the dark blue abyss and tried to swallow me. I began to fight for my life fight for my last breath to live another day to see the beautiful clear and blue sky and just to see my family again. I felt like I was going to die and breath my last breath.

I push and push as hard as I could, but my Rambo body was just no match for the water. I began to scream at the top of my lungs for help. I didn’t know if I was going to make it, I felt like this was it, I began to think about life as I slowly drifted away. I closed my eyes just to have a painless death. That’s when three lifeguards came to my aid and pulled me out of this oblivion of water.

My body was in shocked it felt like I just escaped the hands of death and the sisters of fate could not hold me. I laid there on the warm sand and looked up at all the people that were looking down at me. I felt like I was brought back to life or out of enemy fire. I laid there until the lifeguard ever so kindly helped me up and walked me over to the shade and offer me some water. I told him “why would I want water after it tried to kill me my good man but thank you.” He took the bottle and walked away as he said, “Don’t mention it.”

After that acident I swore never to lay foot on a beach again but the day after that I was they’re again lying on the sand looking out at the ocean. I began to think about my life, what was ahead of me, so much to do I just can’t die, not yet. I still need to do so much things like make a family, meet the woman of my dreams and be at my sons wedding all that was almost lost cause I would have died in that water. I almost created a time paradox in my life and my impacts on the world to come.

I stood and began to slowly walk over to the line that divided the sand and the water and began to breathe. I slowly walked in and that’s when my brother grasped my hand and pulled me back.

“No, what are you thinking?” he asked me.

I turned and looked at him. “What other choice do I have!”?

He sighs and walked away. I turn back to the view of the horizon and just took a seat in the water as millions of thoughts ran through my mind. Like, if those two heroes would have never have saved me or if I would have got stuck on something under water that could’ve been the end for me and I would have lost everything that I worked and earn so hard to get and I would have died at age 16 and lost everything that were to come in my life. Also, my family how would they have token my death? Im the most realiable person that they can depend upon and my friends. Who would be there to help them in need or when they would need back up or just jokes from Aidan I wouldn’t have been there. I though of everything in that one moment. Things that I never came across in my life. Just goes to show “you never know what you have until you almost lose it. Well, trust me, I though that tragic moment and I wont be taking advantage over it again, I will make my life the most of it.

So, ever since that tragic day, I have been a bit more careful about my actions and what I do and how I do because every day you come in face with a new obstacle that can easily take your life and that would be the end. Im not saying to be paranoid every second of the day but to just take caution about the actions that you do. You should leave the thoughts of everything that you have still to come till you’re at the brick of life. Take consideration into your life and show everything or everyone that you love that you care dearly about them because you can lose them just like that.

So I learn a lot of life lessons since that day and I know never to try to do something that you know you can do or have absolutely no change of doing. I tried to swim even though I didn’t know how to and I was in the ocean that could have easily swallowed me. So, you can learn a lot of life lessons in life just make sure not to wait till your at that brick of death and living. I have enjoyed re writing about this awful life stage.

                                                                                                        To be continued…

Aidan Rios

I remember the days when I was like 4 years old  running around jumping all over the place with not at a care in the world. That is until I got older  and I noticed things starting to change, going to this weird place my mom called school’ go on a yellow bus with people I hade never seen in my life. Life before I started pre k was fun back then.

I got into that place and there was this lady that the other kids called teacher. Me not knowing anything I would just copy everything the other kids did just to fit in.

I noticed that kids were in different classes but not just in one big room. After that I went to a place where they had lots of tables for the kids to sit and eat. I was unsure where to sit  their was some many kids. I just decided to sit at the table with the least people. I noticed that the things I like  most kids though was baby stuff. I remember that one time when I was in class I said that Elmo was my favorite TV show. The whole class started to laugh at me. I did not  know  until I noticed that they weren’t laughing with me but at me. I ran home crying, wondering  why. My older bro  "said if ya wanted people to respect you got to know what’s cool and what’s not.” I took his advice and it turns out he was right. You can't be yourself sometimes it depends on who you are.

But After going up grade-by-grade I stared to understand things a lot better. I thought we went to school because kids annoy their parents to much The things the teacher was teaching us were to help us in the real world.

Going to SLA - after leaving   middle school I decide go to SLA why because I read most of the things posted on the website and snag my attention. I would have to say SLA was different then other schools. The reason I think this is because in SLA I feel like I can just be me and that just that. But their are still people who act but in only a little amount of people who do that. The way the school is setup is that as long as you show that you are trying you pass with b-c ok. At first I did not understand things that worked around the school like how printers are all around the school, that was the first time I ever had to do something. It was kind of nervous when the printed didn’t work I was too scared to ask so I just walked away. Moddle is another example of how things change for me when I stared to go to sla. I never ever hand to turn work on a website. It was the hardest thing I had ever done.

 Sometimes it would stop working in the middle of work. Then I say to my teacher it didn’t work all she would say is do it on word next time. Other then that SLA is the best ive been in so far and I look forward to the next years with my friends,

Life learned lesson about the world

Don’t regret it

“Tyler you have an early dismissal”

I wonder why I’m leaving early with out no reason?

Where am I going, what’s going on, is this bad or good?

All I see is rooms, no color, just white.

White walls, white tiles, white lights, and grey people.

Everything looks sick, I walk with my head hanging so low my chin feels like it’s burning from scraping the floor. Sounds all around talking, wheezing, sneezing coughing, laughing, crying, screaming, ambulances, and me. Smells wavier around my nose as I cough because of this deadly awful smell’s. I looked up at my father with swollen tears in my eyes, waiting to burst. “You know why were here right”.” No” I said waiting for some bad news.” Fallow me to room 603”. We arrive at the room and all I see is one room at the end of this everlasting hall. The door was slightly cracked. When I opened the door, all I could see was a sheet that had no color all white and three grey people. I pulled back the sheet and I saw was.

Those swollen tears slowly burst and began running down my cheeks releasing a roar of mixed emotions. All I could see was my mother lying there. My heart shriveled in a tiny little ball and demolished. Her face pale, her hair bland, and her body weak.

I always new something was wrong but didn’t bother to ask. Always-another bottle full of pills in the medicine cabinet.” Mom what this for” Oh nothing just ignore it”, is always how that went. 1 to 2, 2 to 3, 3 to 4, and eventually 7.Sevens way to many to just ignore.

 I want to know what’s going on, so I begin to research what are these what are they are for? Nothing. Eventually I gave up.

Morning drives to the doctor’s office. Long waits in the waiting rooms. Papers prescriptions and worry. I’m still lost, wondering what are all these things for, why was doing this. This life isn’t our normal life. No one seems happy. The floors in our home seem cold, the air feels hot, and nothing is comfortable, as if the house is trying to tell me something, as if the house just wants to wants to open its vents as a mouth and tell me there’s something going on. Why is everything so different? The cat won’t sleep in my parent’s bed. He’s awake all day by my mother’s side like a miniature guard dog waiting for something to go wrong.

A few weeks go by and everything is fine. Until June 19th everything was going wrong. From the morning to that visit. As soon as I walked out the house that morning I knew it wasn’t my day. It all started at 8:00am. My hair wasn’t working and my curls fell, 9:00am I was rushing trying to finish homework, 10:00’o clock, I found out that I got an F on a test, and just told my mother I was sorry for everything I said that very morning while I was acting like a brat. Things were running through my mind that I very much regretted. And I just didn’t know how to take these things back.

But by time I figured I needed to fix these things, it was too late. And there I am shoulders slump; chin hanging, with my lips so low they look like I had weights attached to them. But I know from being there and seeing that I learned something. This is something I call a life lesson.

Life is too short for regrets. So don’t do anything you might regret because something or someone could be there and then there not. After experiencing this I have looked at the world in a totally different way. I don’t have many attitudes anymore because I felt like crap after doing that to my mother and many other people. Life is like a speeding car it goes by so fast by time you look to see the license plate that car is gone. I will never forget this. This was a warning, but next time I’ll catch that speeding license plate before its too late.