Stop, put me down. I don’t need you to drag me along, even if I am paralyzed. Every little movement scrapes another layer of graphite from me. If I were like the human hand which controls me, you would be scrapping my skin off. This graphite tail of mine will not grow back if you rub it away. You are pulling out my hair when you grind my rubber against paper.

You leave me in the worse places, zippered into dark spaces. Every time I am left alone, I pray you will forget me, and it will all end there in peace. The darkness is better than when you hold me down against that blade, and cut away my wooden surface.

Oh, what could my purpose be? To be tortured into recording all your ideas without pay. Am I supposed to work my life away?

Wait, what did you just write?

(looks down) “I’m sorry that this may be our last dance across the paper. Thank you for recording the words I was too scared to say aloud. You pay the bail to get my thoughts out of the jail that is my mind, with your life, writing in your graphite blood. These words are mine, but you wrote them.”

(gasps) Is that a thank you note to me? A love letter. I remember writing these before, while held in the warm embrace of your hand, and dying in your fingers with every sharpening.

Without you, I would be sitting alone, growing cold. I can not move, speak, or do anything on my own. You are the murderer that rescued me from a life on the shelf, like an unwanted puppy in a shelter. I was not the nicest one available for adoption, yet you chose me. You could have taken that smooth, long lasting mechanical pencil, which could be refilled with new graphite, but you were environmentally conscience, choosing me, the biodegradable wooden pencil. To you, I was never number two.

Or maybe you were scared that the mechanical pencil would outlive you. It could be past down as a family heirloom, with every new stick of graphite prolonging its life way past yours. Even if it ran out of led and you threw it in the trash, its plastic shell would still be sitting in a landfill a thousand years from now. You and me are made of organic materials; dirt and trees. The only exception is a person created me to be with you. I’m sorry it couldn't last forever. With all the sharpening, we were bound to reach my metal end one day. It will be alright. Go ahead, and find another pencil. It’s time to let me go. You don’t have to scrape away at the millimeter of graphite left to finish this letter. 

Unless. You could leave me in my bag, and when the new pencils arrive, I can tell them our stories. I will convince them to not fear you. Then, they will not screech in protest against the paper as I did. Your pencils will dance across the page if you let me be the one to encourage them. I’ll be an old pencil, the grandparent to the new ones, who never leaves the house, our pencil bag, but is always there for them when they come home. In those moments, I will have found my purpose. I wish you luck in writing your life story, my love.

First day of school tomorrow. What to wear? What to wear?

“Pink, ew no.”

“ I know, I’ll wear my black leather jacket with a white top and grey scarf, my black ripped jeans, and my black boots.” Two hours before the first day of a new school. It’s the middle of winter, they’ll think I’m a weirdo.

“ Teddy, what do I do?”

“You’re right maybe they won’t notice me.”

I take a breath and step inside the giant school. All eyes on me, I look behind me there is nothing but a closed door. They must be staring at me. My nerves take over my body I put my head down in shyness and walk. First class of the day, I walk in and introduce myself to the teacher.

“ Hello, my name is Josie, I’m the new student.”

I sit in the first seat in the first row. Everyone files into the room, and takes their seats. I hear whispers coming from behind me. They sound like they are making fun of someone. Maybe there is another new student here?

I feel something hit me in the back.

“ Ugly, go back to where you came from.”

I crumbled up the paper and hid it in my bag. The class ended, now for PE. I find the girls locker and change into my gym clothes.  I go through the whole day hearing hurtful words. I almost cried halfway through the day.  I’m happy that I’m going home.

“ Why are words hurtful Teddy?”

“ What do I do to  make it stop?”

I can’t help but replay what that note said. I walk over to my bag and pull it out and read it to my teddy.  Feeling the tears building up in my eyes and my heart is aching.  “ Ugly go back where you came from.”  I cry myself to sleep not wanting to be bothered.

I see the group of kids that wrote the note, I walk up to them.

“ Listen, I don’t know why you guys thinks it’s okay to call people names. I may be the new girl and all, but that doesn’t mean you can call me ugly or tell me to go back where I came from. I don’t to on anyone bad side I want to make friends so hopefully you guys won’t be such jerks and make that hard for me.”

I went on with my day with a smile on my face. Walking through the doors of my home and up to my bedroom.

“ Teddy I stood up to the jerks who hurt me.”

“ I hope they don’t ruin my chances of making friends”

(Walking up to the grave)

I never really thought about how disappointed you may be until now. (Looking down with a sad face  and kicking leg back fourth indicating that she is nervous) Look mom, I’m sorry. ALl this long time and this is my first time visiting you. I have just really been busy, trying to juggle life without a parent. After the incident I just knew that was a sign for me to get my life back together. All of them surgeries. The concussion, and broken bones has opened my eyes. Yeah I know the accident happened 6 months ago and I’m just visiting you; I’m sorry, I just needed time to get my life together ya’ know. I didn’t want you to see me  in a wheelchair and shit (covers mouth)  Oops I mean stuff.  

(Puts flowers down and have a seat)  Listen, I will not apologize for who I am. Or the mistake I have made. “Learn for your mistakes.” That’s what you always said, and that’s what I plan to do. I just wanna apologize for not coming to visit you. I know it’s been over a year but… Well not but there’s no explanation. Sorry.

I just really wish the cancer didn’t take you from me. When you died, something in me died too. The good girl died, it just might have been buried with you. But, that good girl has now risen from the dead. ( Short Pause) Something I wish you could do. Look, times was hard when you died. I no longer had a mentor, a best friend, a mother. No shoulder there to cry on, no one to take care of me when I was sick. Of course auntie didn’t want to take care of me. She’s so selfish… So after you passed I was in group homes. Too old, so I couldn't go into the system. Life wasn’t the same. I slowly saw myself changing.

Balling up in a corner every night so no one would touch me ( Starts to cry) And that gives me no reason to do the horrible things i've done, but it’s all about survival. The stealing, selling drugs, etc. I needed to survive. I finally understood how hard it was to be independent. Everything was done for a reason and I hope you understand that.

Now, I realized things could have been handled differently. Dropping out of school was the worst decision of course. I should have went to the school for help. Told someone about the horrible things that went on at the group home. Speaking of school, I have re-enrolled. I’m a grade behind, but it’s whatever. They are helping me with living wise. They even hooked me up with a job. Ya know? And i’m going to court so I can emancipated. So that’s good too.

I just wanted to tell you that I’m doing much better than I was before and I’m trying to get my life together. It’s slowly coming back together. Even though life will never be same because you aren't here, I am going to make something out of it. And who knows maybe someday I will be twice the women you were. (Gets up and wipes dirt off her clothes) I love you mom, and one day I hope I can rest with you.

    (Sings chorus of Pharrell’s Happy song) It just might be my day. My sister was sitting next to me; tired of hearing about how excited I was. I just knew today would be the day. ¨GURRRLLL! Imma make it today. You may not think so, but I know... (emphasis on know) He’s gonna love  me (drag it out). He looks super cool; I’m pretty sure his name is Brock. Brock and Brynlee. It sounds great doesn’t it Brooke?¨ She looked at me, stared at my head for a second and simply said ¨I Don’t Care!¨ She’s a hater.

Any who, it was my time. I’m being looked at with a face that I cannot read or explain yet, and the next thing I knew, I was being picked up. My hopes went up. My excitement began to rise. I got butterflies in my stomach. Someone was finally going to love and appreciate me for what I am.

    In route to my awaited destination, I heard a voice whine ¨NOOOO MOMMMMYYYY! I don wanna eat it¨(makes a shocked face). Slammed back down I go. Again. It ALWAYS happens. I mean...(drag out ¨mean¨) do I really taste THAT bad? Yea, I can get a little chunky and my head is slightly bigger than others (pause) well a lot bigger, and I’m two weird shades of green, but I still think that I'm pretty appealing ya know? I think I’m cute. I think I’m fly. I’m a pretty cool Veg (Said fast with a smirk). But STILL, no one wants me. Cute and fly in one person's eyes could be the opposite to another. But appearance is only one thing, the inside is where all the important things lie. Personality, heart, fears, all the good stuff. Yet, it doesn’t matter, everyone hates my insides.

    Once I’m picked up in what seems like slow motion, they thoroughly stare at me. Closer and closer I make my way towards my goal… well their mouth of course. They stick their tongue out to barely taste me. After they realize that I’m not actually poisonous or deadly, slowly but surely their teeth come together and I am immediately thrown back to the plate. They can at least sit me back down as slow as they picked me up.  And to add insult to injury, people make the most absurd sounds. YUCKKKKK… UGHHHHH… EWWWWWW. So rude. They won’t even fully eat a piece of me to begin to understand what my inside is like.  

    It’s not fair. Just about everyone likes the giant yellow guy that constantly breaks into little pieces. And the plain orange bald dude. It’s that those guys that look all cool on the outside with bright colors that it doesn’t even matter what their insides are like. No one likes plain, boring, typical green. There are a few others that kind of look like me, but still, no one IS like me. It was not yesterday, not today, and maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but one day someone will love me for what’s on the inside.

     He was Brock, I’m Brynlee. Together, we could have been like the most wonderful Broccoli (Brocklee). Yet, too bad he didn’t care to enjoy the inside of me.

Okay,okay everyone places,places! We have five minutes! And we cannot afford any mistakes. I am talking to you apple. You think I would forget about what happened the  last time. I cannot have other fruits mixing, it just makes you look out of place or you’ll just end up blocking some other thing that our clients will be looking for. Yeah, so why don’t you stop looking at your reflection thinking that your small self is all that. Hey! don’t you give me no lip! roll over to your little apple buddies and stop actin so grown! I swear as soon as they get a name like red delicious, their eyes magically become glued to their reflection. I mean come on! Am I the only one that cares about how we look!

Yeah, I know that I can be tough sometimes, but as leader and coordinator of The Food Organization of the Refrigerator, or TFOR for short, I have the responsibility to make these ungrateful pieces of food look appealing in this refrigerator after someone comes home after having a long day. It’s like an art really in it’s own way. I have to consider things like how the apples look against the bread. Who needs to be moved? Are the apples taking up too much space? Should I move them so that the bread is not hidden, and replace it with something else, or should they just be rearranged? It can be so stressful. Especially when the other foods are being so difficult.

Hey, don’t think I can’t see you Lettuce! How many times do I have to tell you that you need to be right next to me. All vegetables need to stay in the center. It’s where the light will capture our good side. It will make us look more appealing. I mean I am just saying that veggies are the best. Especially, (puffs up chest) me. Broccoli. I mean I am  healthy for the body. I am low on fat and I don’t know about you but I taste pretty damn good. If you know what I mean.So naturally I think that the best of the best should be in the center.

You got something to say pear? I know you not running your mouth up on that top shelf. When was that last time you were picked from this refrigerator because I know that frost didn't appear overnight. Yeah that’s right, now everyone please go to your designated areas, come on we need to be ready before-

(refrigerator opens)

Quick! Look Sharp. I look up and see that it’s little Tommy who is our first client of the day. This is perfect. This boy can eat anything that’s within his sweaty little pudgy grasps. Obviously, I am going to be the first choice because-

What did he just say?!?! I know that he did not say those five nasty words: There is nothing to eat . Pause. Because we clearly have to capture this moment here. Are you joking? (Gets louder ) Tommy your mom must’ve forgotten to take you to get your eyes checked because if they were working correctly you would see that your whole refrigerator is filled with nothing but food. You have lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, and bread to make a sandwich. Yogurt, strawberries, blueberries, the leftover pizza from last night. You even have a pear, as frosty as he is, to eat! But, how could you forget. About. Me. Broccoli.

Hear Tommy’s mom come down stairs. She walks in the kitchen to see the what’s wrong. Then he dares to repeat those five words again, and I cringe. I swear if she doesn't get that little boy outta my face, I am going to lose it! She looks into the fridge and I slowly see the look of confusion come on her face. As she turns to her son, I eagerly await the scolding that she is about to give him. (Frowns)Unfortunately, it doesn't come. Instead she starts to list all off all of the foods that are in the fridge. I patiently wait for her to acknowledge my presence. I guess you gotta save the best for last. When she finally gets to me, I watch in absolute horror as I see Tommy’s bored expression transform into a look of pure hatred and disgust.

Haisha Hahsy              E Band

Gold Stream

Help

Doing as you command.

I run to you as soon as you call but there are so many people pulling me towards them self, I am trying to get you all in a orderly manner just be patient. I know how sometimes I can get slow but so many people calling me up and down, I am just exhausted. You think I am just a machine that runs up and down for you but there is more to me than you think.  Instead of complaining of how slow I am why don't you just take some hardship on yourself; and make effort on your own instead of always walking up to me and commanding without a thank you or please?

In my life I see the same people over and over again. I see all kinds of people short, small, tiny, big, wide, and skinny. I have seen it all. But I have also seen sweet, mean, mad, sad, happy, and all types of people.  Oh, here comes Bob on the 3rd floor always so happy and nice with his great family and little 2 years old girl named Vicki. I think her birthday is next month around the 20th because I heard him making some calls about a birthday party plan for 3 year old. Of course here comes Mary coming from the 5th floor I heard that she is about to get fired for some odd reason.  No wonder these days she has been so gloomy but her wedding is coming up around spring. Then, John from the 8th floor always so mad I guess being a boss is hard but that doesn’t mean you have to be so ugly about it. He is thinking about making another office building I saw him with a couple of contractors;  you could even see the contractors hate him.  He always has some type of cigar in his hand or a cigarette in his ear day to day.  He also gained some weight over the last 2 weeks he used to be slim as a stick now he got some meat.        

Here comes my favorite girl Anna she is so sweet and cute, around 25 years old. She has a stupid boyfriend Nath that cheats on her without her even knowing. He came in here the other day kissing Kayla on her lips and both of them seeming fine doing such. Kayla is such a bad girl, I hate how she jumps from one person to another. I just wish I could help Anna, I mean she is so patient and nice like always greeting who ever is near her. I mean there are so many people I want to help especially my buddies but I can’t do anything, but get them from one place to another as fast as I can. Sometimes I try to go faster with the right type of music on; and then closing doors faster for people who need some space. There so many other friends of mine that I want to help but can’t do anything because I’m helpless to them; like Katy and her sick grandmother, Fred with his divorcing wife, and Karen with her failing son.

Then of course there are people just commanding me people making me run up and down on my last string. I try my best to get there fast as I can,  then of course some people keep on pushing my buttons. Of course I can’t do anything about anything.  That doesn't mean that I don't get mad. After all I can only go one pace at a time it’s not like the more you keep pushing the faster I am going to go. I am always going to go at the same pace.  I am only on a cable running up and down for everyone. I never hear a thank you but your smilies are my pay check.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

(The teacher walks in holding a briefcase) Good morning class. It is just a wonderful day to be here. (Rubbing his eyes) I hope you all had a lovely weekend. What are you doing Russell? Russell can you please put your phone away?  Today we are going to review genetics. (Goes to the board and begins to write.) Alright class, let’s begin with something easy.  If there are 9 genes that go into eye shape and 10 that go into eye color, how many genes affect your eyes genetic makeup? What do you mean 21? It is as simple as 9+10. Why are you all laughing?  Oh… it’s one of your internet jokes.

(Looking flustered) Let’s get serious, now that you all had that laugh.  So if the dominant trait is… What’s that sound?  Do I hear cell phone? Anyway, brown hair and the recessive trait is blond hair, and the person is heterozygous, will they have brown or blond hair?  Why are you all just giving me blank stares? (Begins to tap pencil against desk.) We have been over this ten thousand times.  Edward, what’s the answer? (pause for 5 seconds, begins to pace) Come on, don’t just give me “Ums” and “Uhhs.” Seriously, I don’t understand what is wrong with you all; we have been going over nothing but this for the last two weeks. 

Russell!  Hallway. Now.  (Walks quickly towards the hallway in an angry fashion) I’m so damn tired of your phone going off in class! If I catch you again, I’m taking your phone for the rest of the period and telling Principal Jenkins.  Now let’s get back into class.  We still have a large amount to cover.

Sorry about that class. So Jason, do you know if a person is heterozygous and has one allele for brown hair and one for blond if they will have brown or blond hair, assuming that brown is the dominant trait? (Pause 3 seconds, while teacher twists his hair)  Shnaw, what is shnaw?  Did any of your parents teach you how to speak even half way decent English?   

Well, if anybody is interested, the answer is brown.  Hey, I have got an idea; there is going to be is a test on this tomorrow.  Wow, it looks like everybody is listening now.  So now for the millionth time, if a person is heterozygous and they have one dominant and one recessive allele, then they will possess the dominant trait.  See class, it is not brain surgery.

Russell, that’s the last straw.  Give me your phone! I’m so so done.  I don’t get you kids these days, I have been doing this for 40 years and get no respect.  (Rate of pacing increases)  Your behavior today has been abominable!  All of you, just get out of my class.  I’m disgusted with your generation.  My shih tzu is smarter than this group. (Pauses long enough for children to exit class, while gnashing his teeth)  

I have always been the best. Kids have always been interested in my class.  I’ve been the funny teacher that is everybody’s favorite.  But now, I can’t keep up with iphones and Facebook.  It is all so much over my head.  I don’t know what to do anymore with these children. I really just don’t know anymore. (Begins to whimper) I try to keep up; I just can’t… (Walks towards desk and puts head down)

What grabbed you?

Declan: How well any student can relate to this essay and having their own experience with a teacher not knowing about any of the viral videos.

Luke: I think the humor and interaction of the scene kept me engaged and interested

What does there need to be more of?

Declan:Some more thoughts from the students

Luke: its short you can add like more examples and add more reflection and backstory for him

What confused you?

Declan: It was the last paragraph because he kind of ranted in a sad way about how he did not understand any of the internet fads.

Luke: why the kids left in the middle of class

What should I change?

Declan: I think you should change the last paragraph

Luke:I think its really good just drive your point about teachers trying but not keeping up home, maybe start some reflection earlier so it's not such a choppy transition.

Did the waitress just say he could sit here... OMG, she did! Great, now this tall, handsome fella is coming my way. He put his butt right on me, instantly my body starts to feel uncomfortable, but warm and cozy all at the same time. When I get to have people on me it makes me feel like I am not invisible anymore and someone actually wants me. This does not happen to me often. Everyone is either sitting at the counter, or they have a group of people with them and they want to be at a bigger and better area where other tables are settled in. I’m at the end of the diner, all the way against the wall, in the back. I’d rather sit in front with all the cool people, but I guess I’m stuck here since this tall blonde haired lady put me here.

Now that this about 6 foot tall, muscular, brown haired beauty is sitting on top of me, well it makes me feel some type of way. The type of way that my cotton filled inside kind of feels squashed. A million things are rushing through my head, that is apparently a bunch of springs, or so I’ve been told. Right now I don’t know if I should feel happy about it or if I should be concerned about my loneliness. As he leans forward towards the table I could not help, but to look at his spiderman underwear, it was weirdly cute or maybe it is just the fact that I’m stunned by him and the fact he is sitting with me.

The sizzle of the food fills my cotton and I know this means he will be leaving me alone, again. It smells so good he must be having cheese fries. The smell of melted cheese was in the air. The guy grabs his fork and starts eating his cheese fries. It was cute how he used the fork, so clean and proper. He breaks the daydream about him with a lump on cheese fries spilled all over me. “Ow!” the sensation of the cheese burned my fluff stuff. I never felt pain like that before. He leans over and grabs a napkin to clean both himself and me off. I’m feeling some relief as he wipes the hot cheese off of me and finally the pain is gone.

Now his butt is tensing up, and I think something may be wrong with him. Suddenly, “blurrrrp” my whole body is vibrating and the air was no longer smelling like cheese fries. My body is now suddenly a lot warmer. Everyone begins to point and laugh at him, and his face turns as red as a cherry. Suddenly, a weight was being lifted off  of me, and I notice the man getting up. I no longer could see his spiderman boxers. His arm leans over the table as he places down a pile of green stacked up pieces of paper. I’m not sure what those papers are. Oh, I can hear his deep, soothing voice say “I left your tip on the table under the ketchup bottle. Thanks for serving me. Have a good day.” With that the man is walking out of the door, looking down at the ground. His voice is just perfect, so soothing and deep. I thought it was super cute. I miss him already, now that he is not sitting on top of me anymore, I feel empty. I guess I’ll just be waiting in the back, small corner for someone else to come visit me.

Fired? Fired! Fired. Get out? (slam the door). Matter fact Imma go in a give him this work. I don’t deserve to get fired! (turn and open door)

Mr. John I need this job I know I’ve been late a lot but school goes till three thirty. I got family and I got homework and and. (pause and listen)  No my families not really struggling. (Pause and listen) I’m saving a little for college. (pause and listen) Drugs? Nah not me. (pause) Why do I need money? (Look uncomfortable) um.. retirement? (pause) Ok the truth I’m trying to get the new J’s.

The truth?I love shoes. Kids come to school rocking the newest lebrons and air max’s. Look what I got on! A used pair from the thrift store. I know it’s messed up to spend a hundred on shoes while people blocks down don’t have money, but thats was I was taught. Taught to love how shoes look. It was with me where I was raised. In the city. Yeah that’s where it is. In the street you have people with the hottest foams and most food stamps. We have so much pressure about what you put on your feet that we put shoes in front of bills.

But it’s the power. You feel it when you wear those checks on your feet. It’s like no one can stop you. Making control from chaos. It’s like just what they say in the commercials. I feel the “just do it” coursing through my veins. I was taught to love the swoosh, taught to admire the jordans. But just as much as nike taught me so did my friends. They always had the nicest kicks, freshest shoes. Peer pressure doesn’t have to be spoken. It can be how people look at you. How they address you. Eyes boring down on shoes in mockery, distaste is more peer pressure then I can handle. Shoes talk and The bolder and cleaner they talk the more people like you.

I don’t know where they got their money but even before they cared about shoes they had them. Why are your social clubs built around footwear? The newest soles over your soul. I feel your eyes scanning my outfit landing on my feet. Ok they’re not the nicest but I work with what I can.

See I wasn’t born into a family that loved shoes. My mom thought the two striped adidas were real fly. Nah. I reached fifth grade and never had a pair of nike. Bobo life all day. My mom knew that the world of shoes was filled to the brim with corruption, discrimination, capitalism, and the general downfall of our society. But she didn’t get the power. She didn’t get the pressure. I pleaded, argued, and begged my mom for some nice shoes. After months she said she’d get me one pair. We spent all day looking in shops for the perfect sneakers Finally I got some red and black air force ones. My favorite color and the most important nike check on the side. When I got to school everyone noticed. I went through about ten minutes of steady congratulations from different people. My fifth grade heart rose and I was so excited! I did it! I was cool!

But my family never had a money to be buying me a new pair of shoes every couple months when my old ones would be falling off my feet. I was on the look out on ebay, the thrift store. I’ve paid for every set of laces on my feet since I was eleven. Barely affording the necessities. Necessities. Mom didn’t get me shoes. My friends had shoes and society told me teens need shoes. What would you do? So that’s why I need my job. Yard work ain’t gonna cut it for some Lebrons. I’m sorry cause I know there’s a slave kid behind every stitch. Carbon monoxide pumped out with every step. Money being piled in corrupt corporate owners laps with each sale. I know all this yet my neighborhood taught me to wear money on your feet with toughs out. Capitalism is changing peoples style and making billions on it. Capitalism is defining greatness and putting a hundred dollar price tag on it. Then teaching kids in the poorest walks of life that they can be great if the highest price is paid. So that’s why I need my job. I’m sorry for rubbing it in to kids who can’t afford it. I’m sorry mom! I’m sorry world! Years of eyes recoiling off my feet has caught up to me. I just trying to wear respect! I’m just want success in shoes! I just want some kicks!