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A Story To Tell

“Hi there, Grandpa” she said. I looked up. “Louise?” She was not Louise. She was Sarah. Of course. It would be impossible for Louise to be here. I looked away, embarrassed. I looked at the ceiling, out of the window, onto the perfectly manicured grounds below. Anywhere but her. I saw Louise in her. The way she looks, moves, sounds. She asked me how I’m doing. Her voice sounded so much like Louise’s it made my heart hurt. I told her the truth. I’ve had better days. My doctor’s say I need a new heart. They say I’m on the list to get a new one, they say it will make me feel much better. Doctor’s don’t know anything these days.


I told her a story. Well, she asked for a story. A good one. One that happened. One that happened to me. She asked how I met her grandmother. What was I supposed to do? I told the damn story. She’s becoming a delightful young woman. I wish Louise could have met her.  So, here’s what I said.


I was born in Germany a long time ago. When I was 17 a war began. I wanted so badly to fight for my country. I decided I was going to fight for Germany and nothing could stop me. I lied to the recruiting officers telling them I was old enough. They either believed me or didn’t care enough to not let me fight. In 1934 I was sent to work in a concentration camp in Poland.


Sarah’s eyes opened wide. It broke my heart to have my only granddaughter look at me with such disgust and hate. I asked Sarah to let me finish. She didn’t say a word. I kept going.


I told her how at the concentration camp, I met a girl named Louise. Louise was beautiful. She was even beautiful after she was made to shave her head. She was even beautiful after she became so skinny that it surprised me she could even walk. Louise’s beauty did not go away. No, hers was the kind of beauty that does not vanish. I watched her from afar until I realized I was falling in love with her.


I told Sarah how I began to wake up the atrocities of my surroundings. The atrocities that I let happen. We were tearing families apart and killing innocent people, and we did it for no damn reason. No damn reason! I said to Sarah that the worst bit was that I took part in it all. I had to do something.


The first time I approached Louise about running away with me she refused. She was scared. I was scared too, but also overcome with love. Perhaps I was a bit foolish, but also determined.

A few day’s after I approached her, her brother was sent to the gas chambers. She came straight to me and said she was ready.

We did it. I told Sarah how after we had been running for hours, I told her to stop, got down on one knee and proposed. She said yes. I still have no idea why.

I asked Sarah if she could forgive me. If I die today I said, the one thing I want is forgiveness for hurting all those people.


Sarah was silent for a long time. Her silence said enough. I knew she hated me. I wanted to die, and be with Louise. That was all I wanted. Then Sarah pulled me into her arms in an embrace that said more than words could say.


We stayed that way for a long time. We stayed that way until the nurse announced visiting hours were over. When Sarah and I pulled away she had tears in her eyes. I forgive you she said. I love you I said. I love you too she said. Then she left.


(looks up towards the ceiling) I am ready to go. I am not afraid. I am ready to be with Louise.


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Is It My Dream?

Is It My Dream? 

“Mom I’m home!” 

Once I step through that door I know that I need to hurry up and eat so that I can finish up my homework. Mom is always telling me to come to the living room so that we could get started on my singing. It’s the same routine everyday and I surely don’t know why I have to wait for her to tell me. 

"Mom I’m pretty tired today, (sighs) can we just practice once I get home from school tomorrow." 

Even if I try to complain one bit I know that it’s not going to help me at all so, why bother. It’s 8 o’clock on a Monday and all I want to do is just go lay in my bed and think. I want to think about what I want to do in my life. My mom is always telling me to live my dream and in no time I’ll end up on Broadway, but it’s not my dream I’m living, it’s hers. I know I have been singing all my life, it’s just that I don’t feel it anymore. I don’t feel that vibe that I had when I first started singing. I surely don’t feel like a superstar and I just don’t dream of becoming a pop singer, when I was like 7 years old. If I tell her I don’t want to sing anymore, she’ll be heartbroken. The only way for me to continue to college is if I actually go somewhere in life. Then again, in the process of me actually becoming a singer or actually ending up on Broadway could possibly take another decade. My throat will probably be dried up by then and won’t allow me to talk anymore, that would just be great. 

I just sit there, on the couch and I keep telling myself just tell her the truth and you’ll live with it and sooner or later she will too. She will surely be devastated when I also tell her that all the tuition that went to my college in the first place will all go to waste. Maybe, I’ll just go right into something else. Probably medical school that will even cost me more money and even more time in college. Or maybe I can become a profession soccer player. I’m loving soccer and I’m really good at it. In that moment I get up off the couch and walk over to my mom who’s in the kitchen doing the dishes and I tell her, 

“Mom I don’t want to do singing anymore. I don’t like it. I don’t feel excited every time you and I used to... sing.” 

I can tell that she’s not liking what she hears even though she’s facing the window on top of the sink and I’m looking at the back of her head. She just stops and drops everything in her place. The plate crashes on the floor into a million pieces and now I just wish why did I tell her? Why did I just risk that? I keep going on why I don’t like it and after a minute or so I have nothing left to say I just stop talking and she turns around and walks up the stairs and I scream out, 

“MOM! Where are you going!?” 

and she just keeps walking up the stairs to her room and  it’s followed by the loudest door slam I’ve ever heard in my entire life. 

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Swim

800 meter freestyle relay, 10 minute (commentator)

OMG! Only 10 minuets, I cant do this! Melanie calm down, you’ll be fine. I cant calm down at a time like this. I’ve waited 10 years for this moment. If i don’t win I dunno what I'm gunna do. Ok stop, breathe in, breathe out. 

I guess, Its just i’ve dreamed of this moment everyday and its finally here and (pause) I'm scared. I never excepted I would feel this way. I thought I would come in here with no fear and just win! But its different when your just dreaming. I used to lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling and my picture my self in this moment. I mount the starting block, squat, sit up a little, listen for the whistle and I just go! 

The second I hit the water its like Its just me and the water. I don’t think about anything, not the clock, my competitors or anything. I just swim. First lap i kinda don’t go as hard. I lay back a little bit so I don’t get tired. Second lap I start to pick up a just a little speed. Third lap a little bit more to put me back in the top. 

But then the last, I’m gone. The second I turn into the last lap, as soon as my feet hit the wall to push off of its like, I go into another world. Its so fast its like lightning struck. Im so close to the end I could just feel the buzzer. Only a few more strokes then BOOM! I won. A new world record, 8:13:09. I did it.

(pause) But this time is different. This is the most important race of my life. If I don’t win my life will be so different. Ok, Melanie you can do. Focus on the positive. UGH! This is so nerve racking. I want to win so much but there are so many good people here, this sucks. I dunno why I agreed to this. I cant do. Im not good under pressure. This race is too big. I like the small ones where its just me and like 5 other girls. I cant race against like the 25 thats out there. I just wanna go home. This is too much! 

800 meter freestyle relay, 2 minutes (commentator)

WHAT!?! 2 minutes. I need like 2 years! Melanie just relax. You’ve trained for this. 

Well here goes 10 years of training...

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Julian Makarechi- Sugar Skull

​1. A sugar skull (calavera in spanish) is made out of sugar (edible), they are used to celebrate the " Day of the Death" (Cinco de Mayo). They can also be used as tombs and altars.

2. The design of my sugar skull was inspired by the traditional mexican sugar skull. The pictures I found were able to give me a good understand of what a standard sugar skull looks like. Most sugar skulls have many plants and dots.That is why I put a lot of swirls, dots and floral designs on my sugar skull. I used white for mine because it was on the most commonly used colors.

3. First I did research on sugar skulls themselves and what they are used for. I was able to get a general understand of what they should look like. I also did a couple of sketches of the skulls. My second step was to find some one that would let me plaster their face because I did not feel comfortable doing it. Thankfully, Wynn was able to help me out and let me mold his face with the plaster. The first step to this was to gather all the materials (hot water, straw, paper towels and plaster), then I had to wet stripes of the plaster in the hot water and mold it to his face. It was necessary that I put a lot of layers on his face so that the masks keeps it shape. The straw was used so that Wynn was able to breathe during the process. After that was done I let my plaster dry over night and Wynn washed off all the plaster from his face. The next class period I painted my mask black with white designs.
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The Full Art EXPERIENCE Kilah Kemp

Sugar Skull
A sugar Skull mask originates from the holiday Day of the Dead which is a Mexican Tradition. It may seem as though the holiday has a dark past behind it. However there is a much deeper history. Day of the Dead is to celebrate those who have past away and are no longer with us. So the Sugar Skull has an expression with it. The mask is to express the feelings of those who passed a away almost a way to remember those who have left us. My sugar skull has a dark side and a light side. This is to express those who have left us that were good and bad. All and all it is to celebrate the dead.
Sugar Mask
Eyes
Feet
Frame
Hands
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MP1 Art2

This is my sugar skull. 
During Mexican holiday of the dead sugar skulls are used to decorate gravestones and altars. The skulls are actually made out of sugar but in art class we used plaster to make our sugar skulls.

I left my sugar skull with out a design. Theres no design on the skull because to me it symbolized something else by just being blank. I had my sister put on the mask.I thought that if there is suppose to be scary or around gravestones, then I should just keep it blank because it would look more scary. 

The art teacher explained and then left a box of plaster out. Then I took a few home and asked my sister is i could make plaster her face, she said yes. So I first had her put a lot of vaseline on her face, so the plaster wouldn't stick to her face and would be easy to take off. Then I began to put the plaster pieces on her face and then rub them. I was almost done but then she didn't feel good so she told me to take it off. After I was done After I was done I looked at it and found the deeper meaning. 
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"FirePlace" In Tent.

The reason of this project was to be able to learn and know how to use a battery in order to light a circuit of our choice that we had made. In my project i chose to make a tent like figure that had a camp fire inside of it which was the bulbs in the inside being lit up by the battery. The triangle like figure was cut out and shaped from a cardboard. As i hot glued the top part together to make a complete triangle i let it cool down as i went and got some elastic paper that was see through. I used it so the light in the inside of the triangle so everyone can see where the light was coming from. In order to keep that in place i used electricity tape to tape it on the sides so it would come out of place or break. The battery was set on the outside of the triangle because it wouldn't have the chance to fit inside of the triangle. Both ends are closed and the wires are extended so that if you attach both sides of the wire onto the battery the lights would light up and not waste battery but light up the lights when it is needed. 
I made my project into a parallel circuit so that it would be easier to have the same amount of light on all of the branches and that the battery would last i guess longer than usual. The bulbs in the first branch had a yellow bulb and a white one which both had the least amount of resistance. Then the second branch had a red and orange bulbs which had the highest amount of resistance built into it. Each branch had the same amount of electricity run into it because they were in parallel. I came up with all this for my circuit because i thought that it would be the best way to put it. The lights worked and the structure was strong enough to hold everything in place and have it work properly. 
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Physics Artist Statement






The ideal of this project was to create a sculpture or something that represents yourself and make a circuit with it. It sounded pretty easy at first because it seemed that all you had to do was take a couple of lights and connect them to a battery, but it was more depth than that. During the process of creating my project, I changed my idea multiple times. At first I was going to use a mirror, and then a watch but I finally decided that I wanted to use a shirt for my project. Which was a pretty good idea at the end of the day.

The shirt I decided to use was a shirt that I got a couple of years ago, that I really didn’t use. I’m glad I keep the shirt because my circuit made it look more better, I might actually wear the shirt now. Anyways, the shirt I chosed was a shirt that had big red lips on it. I decided that I would use six christmas lights and have them light up in the center of the mouth. That way it draw attention to shirt. I decided to have three red lights and three white lights and I have them go red, white, red, etc. So that way it would be more interesting to look at. I also decided to have them in a parallel circuit that way all of my lights would be the same brightness.

Having the lights in a parallel circuit was better than having them in a series circuit because in a series the light bulbs are all on one branch which means more resistance. The more resistance there are means the harder it will be for the current to flow. While having the circuit in parallel form that there will less resistance going through a branch and that means the current will flow a little bit easier.

The way I had my circuit set was that there will be two branches and each branch will have three lights bulbs on it. My first branch had red, white and red light bulbs on it going in that order. My second branch had white, red and white light bulbs on it going in that order. When I was connecting the branches I first had to connect them in a series and then into parallel. Once I done that I had to connect a wire from each branch so that way each branch would get the same amount of battery ‘juice’.

After I done all of that I was able to get my circuit to light up and work, which was one of the best feelings I had throughout doing the project. Because during working on the project I came face to face with trails and errors. I had cut some of my wires too short and then some of my soldering where coming apart. That meant I had to do a lot of my work all over again. However after I reconnected my wires with electrical tape my circuit work once again. As you can see in the picture above. It’s a picture of final project that I’m very proud of.






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Hilary Duff Concert Monologue

Jasmine Nieves                                                               


    Hilary Duff Concert


“Jasmine, its time to go to the concert”. OMG. It’s finally here. I can’t believe we’re actually going to a Hilary Duff Concert. She is both talented and pretty. As Haley, Michelle and I head out the door I keep looking at my picture of us when me and Hilary Duff first met. I thought showing how I excited I was good to show my expression on how I felt. As we get into the car I get overly excited and I started to put my iPod on and listen to her music on my way their. My stomach at the time, was rolling and rolling because this is her first concert since her Dignity Tour. When I get to school the next day, I would keep talking about it until the end of the day because I just can’t get enough  talking about it. Probably somebody who didn’t like her as much as I do probably didn’t grow up liking her old show Lizzie McGuire or don’t like watching Disney Channel which the show was originally born. If people would have liked her only a little bit or just the same like me, I would probably be the cool kid in school for like almost a year or so. If this happens, it would be so exciting since I haven’t been this popular. I am hoping, while on the road to the concert, this won’t be the only day I see her in concert, on TV, or even get her autograph. If I would have gotten her autograph, I would immediately get a frame and put it somewhere to have a special value to it. Ok, we’re at the concert. We find our seats but then we needed to used the restroom and get souvenirs from her before we got to see her live. As we’re were coming back, some guy was asking us, “Did you want to see Hilary Duff backstage.” My aunt couldn’t resist so she had to say “yes”. So when he asked us the question, he put bracelets on us notifying we were able to go backstage. He told us where the backstage was and I was overly excited again because we had to walk across the stage just to meet her. Going backstage I see a whole lot of people taking pictures with her. When it was my turn I was about to faint again since the last time I came to one of her concerts she sang so well on. When we were done taking the picture, I couldn’t stop staring at her on the souvenirs I got from her and just be looking at her. When she started to sing, at first I started to scream at the top of my lungs because I really like her but then after, I had to stop because my aunt told me too. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening again in my life. Then I started to sing, “Nobody believes me when I tell em’ that you were out of your mind, Nobody believes me when I tell em’ you have so much to hide, treat me like a queen when we go out. But baby when there’s no one around...” My aunt was calm but she wanted me to calm down because I felt all the hype in me come out. I think I was mostly the loudest one at the concert compared to her other fans that were there. I kept just singing louder and louder. My aunt then notice I was I bad singer but saved what she wanted to say by giving me a quick stare. My aunt got a little mad and said Jasmine, I know you like her but you got to calm down. I don't stop, I just kept going at it with my singing. Then my aunt said, “Jasmine do you want me to throw all your stuff of Hilary Duff away” Then, I innocently said no crouching down to my chair. As I was crouched down in my chair she said, “Well, then, stop being so loud”. At the time, I was coming up with a big headache, so I knew I had to stop. I sang again but a little softer.  I love Hilary Duff. If she was part of my family, I would do anything for her since I like her that much. She has been such an inspiration to me since I was little. 


(music still plays in the background and the crowd keeps chanting) 

          The next song come out, I start singing again until she speaks about her album then continues to sing again until the end of the concert and then everybody goes crazy!!! When I get home, I would not be able to sleep because of the concert of my favorite celebrity Live in concert for the second time out of her 5 albums she’s made. This night will be a night to remember for me and I will never ever forget it. I LOVE YOU HILARY !!!!      



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“She Whispered In My Ear or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Weekend” By Will Amari

Will Amari

11/19/12

Silver 


“She Whispered In My Ear or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Weekend”


And I never saw her again. She was the light of my life and she truly loved me...


I named a damn album after her. You remember that? It was my biggest hit. I was at the prime of my career. Definitely the golden age, but I feel like I never really truly made it. I never really truly had that chance to bask in the limelight. 


I was huge. I mean there were The Beatles, The Stones, Dylan and then me.


But I was as big as I was forgotten they all out shined me. It was a tough business. It wore me out and I wanted a simpler life. Sure the movie business was tough, but it just felt more steady. Less sex, more respect, that’s what it was. And writing was a good thing to lean on. I feel like this is what got me out of my...um... heroin addiction. 


I didn’t have much of a childhood but there were weekends where I thought I was going to go insane. Childhood memories what a life to live. I grew up in a small town right next to a big city. I lived in this tiny house and there really wasn’t a lot going on. There were no kids my age. I didn’t have many friends, and my parents were... well they were parents, but It was a peaceful neighborhood. Though I struggled socially in school, I don’t blame myself. I blame my surroundings. You know who lived next door? No one... I didn’t have neighbors. My parents where jackasses they didn’t care. Instead I had imaginary friends and radio. The Masked Rider and The Adventures of Daniel Queen were all I needed to keep me calm and busy. I remember they came on once a week at 5.00 P.M. I came running home every Thursday after school to finish my homework, just to listen to the radio before dinner. Now-a-days you got the TV, the video games, and iPods and... what have you. It was a good life except weekends were quite lonely. I just sat there in my room thinking too much about the world. I always thought that it was going down the drain. And my parents always wanted me out. But, I had no one to go out with. So I just lay there on my bed until I practically convinced myself that nothing mattered and that we as human beings were nothing more than a bunch of self righteous animals or... better yet savages that were crazy enough to... (shakes head) 


I was pretty depressed but... whatever. Life is depressing. (pause) It wasn’t always that way. There was a time I had friends. Real friends. 


Eighth grade is the final stage of childhood. Your bodies are changing as fast as your life. You start to notice more, ask more questions and take more chances. It was easier to get in trouble and your innocence slowly begins to fade away into the past just like the crisps Autumn leaves that fall from their branches. Theres a metaphor in there somewhere. Anyway what was... I’m sorry I lost my train of...


Oh yes... um, so one weekend I was out walking my dog. There was a park I always went to and I found a kid, a girl my age who had several small dogs. I had one big dog. I walked up to her. She wore an orange coat and a black skirt. She was a short haired blond and her face was dressed in rose pink. I forgot what I was wearing, what I looked liked, or anything else but it didn’t matter. Anyway I decided to engage in pleasant conversation.


I flirted with her.


I asked her out.


Well, not really. I just helped her with her math homework. She seemed like a nice girl so I knew it was safe. Turned out she went to my school all along and I never even noticed her. We were ounce like fleeting shadows passing in the halls and now we were friends. A week later I came to her house to listen to some local radio programs. It was a rainy lazy Sunday. I walked outside with her to go through the park where we spent the whole day playing in the rain, splashing each other, going down the slide, playing on the swings. It was just the two of us, no little kids, and no grown ups to tell us what to do. We played freely with out any fear of consequences lingering in our pure young minds. When the sun went down she asked me to come back to her house where we dried off and listened to the radio once more. I remember her room and how everything was done up in pale lavender. Her bed was silky and soft. She had this huge crush on Frank Sinatra, and it bothered me a bit, but overall I didn’t mind. The room began to feel warm and my cheeks became red. She had moved closer to me until we were practically one person. That evening her lips met with mine and I began to shake. She whispered in my ear and softly said that I could do whatever I wanted to do to her. 


It was dark by the time I came home. Almost dinner time and I knew my mom was going to freak out. As I walked down my block I became inspired. The beauty of the night along with lights which glimmered through the air is something to this day forward I will never forget. I knew that these moments would soon just become memories and nothing more. To this day I think of that weekend and more and more, every time I think of it... it becomes less of a memory and more of a fantasy.


And I never saw her again. She was the light of my life and she truly loved me.


After she moved away from my neighborhood, I soon came to realize that there was never going to be another girl like her. Allowing her to live on in my songs is just my way of thanking her for all the times we had spent together. Young love is the best love because everything happens so naturally. I guess its true what they say... you will never be young again. 


But you can still be happy (pause) and you can still be happy. 



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The Bus By Penelope Deoliveira

“Time’s up ol’ friend. It’s about time we get rid of you...”

I open my eyes quickly as a big dark skinned, hearty man, pats my side gently. I hear the clinking of rusted metal, and realize that my time has come. “No! Not yet! It can’t be time already!” I only thought to myself, my horn long since broken. “I’m great with kids, I’m  roomy, and...” I pause. “...I’m fuel efficient!” I lie. It wasn’t any use; none of my pleading would get through to James, the trash dump guy. He couldn’t hear me, he couldn’t know what I knew, and he wouldn’t reconsider, even if I were the greatest school bus to have ever come into existence.

It’s clear to me now that I couldn’t avoid the inevitable. By 4 this afternoon, I’ll be crushed and compacted into a cube or made into some plastic thing the humans will find use for. I’d heard from some buses that the feeling...the sensation of going under the crusher was....horrifying. But if they’d never been ‘crushed’ before, how would they know how it feels? Others told me that it was a quick and painless death, and it was nothing to be feared. One volkswagen van told me that you don’t die at all, but become ‘reborn’ and live on as the new object. A chance to start fresh, I hope.

*I’m loaded up on some type of conveyor belt, cars in far worse condition than me waiting in front. *

Considering all things, my life wasn’t bad, although being a convertible would’ve been pretty cool. I first started out, as a new recruit, on the elite force of the school bus. We had the heavy responsibility to carry dozens of precious lives within us, but were still expected to make it to the destination on time. My first day was a day full of wonders. The world outside, the world on the road, was never ending and just magnificent. Beautiful red, yellow, and brown leaves clung to the trees that dotted along the side of the streets, and it felt as if I were running under a large, shady canopy. Adorable, 6, 7, and 8 year olds ran up inside me, their giggles and screams of delight making my insides tickle and fill with excitement. My engine filled with pride as I showed off my glossy new rims, my built exterior, my firm bumper.

*The first car falls in, and there is a horrible sound. Sounds like something was being shredded, torn apart, then slammed and crushed.*

But the best thing had to be my new driver, Bill. He was like me on his first day- inexperienced, nervous, but excited to begin.  Over the years him and I cultivated a friendship so close that I practically cried the day he retired, the summer of 97. That day was a day of mourning, and as he gave me one last pat on my hood, I had to use my windshield wipers to keep from blurring my windows.  I still have pictures of his family he had hung up almost twenty year ago, right above the steering wheel.

*Second car falls in, only two to go.*

Oh, but then, there was the time I fell in love! A lovely little porsche with headlights that would make your engine pumps beat faster than a speeding train; and that bumper! She was a naughty one, who would more than often at times leave her hood open. She would even reeve her engine if she got fired up enough! Then there was her beautiful, soft and high pitched horn, that when honked, sounded better than the birds in the trees. Whenever she parked herself next to me, I could feel my windows fog up. You could say I was really lost in love!

But! She was never mine....she fell for a sinister and (might I add rude) mustang who apparently was stronger, faster, better than me. Jeez. (Sigh). I don’t regret loving her, but I regret not being able to be brave enough to confess my feelings. Now I’ll take that regret to my grave (a.k.a the grinder). I wish I was a convertible. That would have sold her for sure....

*Next car goes in, and the screeching of metal fills my ears.*

Yes. A convertible. If I get reincarnated, I’ll want to be a convertible. If there really is a parking lot in the sky, or a none at all, at least I led an ok life. Perhaps I’ll even get to meet the famous Ford model T, an inspiration to automobiles, and my personal hero. I’m sure we’ll be best friends, of course.  

It’s my turn now, and I can feel the fuel in my gas tank settle uneasily. Is this what humans call....nervousness? Or maybe I’m just anxious to get this over with?

I can just see the drop pit out of the corner of my rear view mirror, a menacing looking 10 foot drop onto concrete. A giant anvil hammer (which I’m guessing is the grinder), slams onto the bottom every 2 seconds, causing the conveyor belt to tremble. I close my blinds, say a prayer, and take the jump of faith.

As I fell to the ground, I could see the grinder inches above me. My last words- “Here goes...!” I thought, right before everything went dark.
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Monologue

                                  Monologue

Rican Girl

By: Jordyn Randall 

                                               


I want my hair done straight. Washed and blow-dried.


What? I don’t understand what you’re saying.


No really, I don’t speak spanish.


It’s ok. Yeah, a lot of people think I’m spanish because of my light skin and long curly hair. I’m really all black. I’m not mixed with anything.


What, you don’t believe me? Yeah, nobody does. Earlier this week, I was walking downtown with my friends and we heard this group of boys yelling “YERP!! YO RICAN IN THE BLUE!!” I was trying to figure out who he was talking to because none of us were rican and i was the only one wearing blue. Me and my friends laughed it off and kept walking. Then I glanced in a window of one of the buildings and thought “ Wow I really do look puerto rican today”. Even though it wasn’t just that day, it seemed to be everyday.


 


Wow this dryer is really hot.


That’s better.


But...I have the same problem with my friends sometimes. One time, at my first basketball game of the season, one of my teammates was telling me how she wanted to meet my mom and my sister. She was looking through the crowd and pointed out this spanish lady and asked me if that was my mom. I looked at her puzzled and said “NO!”. I pointed out my sister and mom and she said “ Why are they black and you’re spanish?”. I told her that I wasn’t spanish or adopted just all black. Then she saw how I resemble my mom. 


Oh...I want my part on the right side.


Yea right there’s good.



It also happened earlier today when I was walking to the corner of my school's block to catch the 65 to pick my little sister, Jaylen, up from school. When I got to her school I saw her talking to her friend. I over heard her friend ask her who I was. Jaylen said I was her big sister.

She asked " How? She's much lighter than you. Are one of you adopted?" 

Jaylen told her " No she's light like my dad and I'm dark like my mom." I called her over to tell her that it's time to go. I asked her what she and her friend were talking about she said " I hate that nobody never thinks we are sisters even though we actually do look alike, they always look at the difference in our skin colors. I told her that I agreed and that it gets on my nerves too. It seems like people always look at color before anything else.


Oh I’m done. How much?


Here’s 24 and 5 for the tip. 


Thanks for the conversation. See you later Bye.

1 Comment

John Cleese

Se llamo John Cleese. Es de Inglaterra y es de decendencia europea. Su compleaños es le 27 de octubre. Tienes 73 años. Es increiblemente cómico. Es tambien súper loco y muy bajo. De vez en cuando es serio. Le encanta hablar, cantar y bailar con los chicos de Monty Python. No le gusta nada ser perezoso. ¡Es un amor de gente!
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The Catch

Hey this Benito, how are you ser. I know this is like my third time calling but I just feel like you have been ignoring me. Like really you said this was one of the best movie ideas you have heard in a long time. Or was that bullshit. I know that you have one of the best credits in Hollywood and I really want to work with you. I got a kid man ! I'm working 3 jobs just to keep this house.$ 900 a mother fucking month! You think I want this shit! My ex wife just passed away(sigh). What the hell am I gonna do with her. She don't got no family I gotta pay for that damn funeral. Maria was her name... Sweet, young, beautiful, a damn cheater. Then she lives my little rosa in front of my door step.

The look on her face reminded of the 1st time my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. It shook me... (States at the ground) she was my wife and now I Don't know how to feel about it. My heart is saying I still love her deeply. But my mind is saying this Witch ! How could you do this to me . And don't get me started with my girl friend, she wants to get married and we have only been seeing each other for 5 months. The hell is her problem? She cute and all and the sex is great don't get me wrong. But goddamn a Mirage?!  Is she insane? Like really I know you want to agree with me . I love her I really do but I’m just not ready for something like that (Pauses) again... But where was I man. Stop bullshitting me, excuse my language but really this could help get your career back as one of the best directors in the world. Just (sighs) think about man. I'm not going to sit here in beg to you like dog who hasn't seen outside in days. I just want the opportunity to take my abilities to the next level.


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Carmelo Anthony

Se llama carmelo anthony, tiene 28 anos. El es de Nueva york, pero vive en Nueva york.

Es el super deportista, bien antipatic, bastante talentoso, en muy trabajador. Le gusta practicar deportes en correr. No le gusta nada celajar en domir. Es muy serio. Es muy alto. Es el muy inteligente. Es el muy delgad@.

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Spider Man

Su nombre se Spider Man. Es muy deportista y bastante alto. El tengo bastante fuerte araña sena. El es muy rápido. El es diligente. El es muy padrísimo. El es muy, supér, bastante ejemplo.
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My Motivation

As I was sitting in the library on a gloomy afternoon. I wrote in my journal, “I hate myself”. I was staring at the window looking outside. At the same time I was thinking about the girl that I really like. She is in my class and her name is Samantha. Yeah I got to admit she is pretty cute and beautiful. It doesn’t matter if she is popular or not, I still like her no matter how she is. I smiled at the image of her that I have in my head, but soon the smile became a frown because of the thought of folding to her in front of my friends. I was facing a life of laughter because I keep avoiding her after promising and texting her tell her to meet me after school. I avoided her because I was nervous I had butterflies in my stomach and then that feeling took me over and I have to avoid her. But she agreed to meet me and I ditched her because of my nervousness trait. In my mind I always remember the words face your fears, but I can’t face my own. I shook my head as I have that flashback to the scene. I shook my head as I have remembered what have triggered this nervous shock that cause me to be nervous whenever I talk to girls. It was in 2006 as I was a young boy. I really liked this girl in my class. Then one day I went and talk to her and she rejected me. From that moment on I felt unsure when I was talking to a girl. I always have that thought that she doesn’t like me. After the flashback I looked up at the clock and I found out that I have been sitting here for about an hour now and so far I can’t study at all. I have been slacking off a lot because I keep thinking about Samantha. She is always in my mind. Well since I was slacking off I picked up my phone and check to see if I had any messages.


The words “No messages” pops up on my phone. Well I guess nobody, none of my friends are going to text me a sign of motivation. Just as I put away my phone in my pocket. I felt my phone vibrated like crazy, like its yelling at my to pick it up. I picked up my phone and saw the display of the words “ 1 Message” on my phone. Now the dampen feeling that I had before has now brightening because of the text that I just receive.With anxiety I press the button on my phone that will lead me to the text of motivation that I have been dreading for minutes. When I saw the message the read it quickly, reading word for word. Quickly I discovered what the message said. It said “ Hey Jack I know you were stuck and folded to Samantha. Don’t even bother talking to me anymore if you don’t get this figured out.” I remembered that time when my friend Ralph was telling a girl name Matilda to meet him after school. I stood there waiting for the bus and I saw her standing there waiting in the freezing weather for Ralph. As 15 minutes went by I knew then that he wasn’t coming. I know my friend Ralph ever since we met in 5th grade he was a jerk then and now. I guess people never change over a series of time. Now as I was reading this text I was reading with a smile on my face and now that smile has turn into tears of frustration.


I was crying to the thought that everyone was on my side at first, but why do they have to turn their backs on me? Why does it all change after I folded to Samantha? The thoughts of killing myself and hurting myself start coming in. I had a thought of killing myself. I thought to myself, why do I have to live in a world where everyone betrays you. Then the reason why I can’t hurt myself is because my religion influences me not to hurt myself. My Catholic religion taught me to appreciate life and don’t do anything to hurt yourself. Well now because of that reason anger started filling in the spots of my heart where it was broken because of the constant mocking of laughter. Then I started having difficulty with breathing. “ I can’t breathe. I have to do something about this.” Then I knew what to do. I have to run down to the river down the street. I walked slowly because of the difficulty of breathing, but then I started running. I can’t take it anymore I need fresh air. I ran out of the door and I realized that it was dark outside, but that didn’t stop me. I run down to the river with the goal of breathing was completed. I breathe really hard and now I looked at the water flowing peacefully. The sound of the water sooth me and made me calm down for a moment. I stood looking at the water and I realized that there is nothing to be upset about. I realized that me, myself can find peace and happiness. Then I thought of my family. My family carry me through no matter what happens. I realized that family and my effort is a formula to happiness and I think thats a good motivation for me. I started walking back to the library. “ Its time to study”. “Its time to study”.
3 Comments

Shirley B. Eniang

se1
Su nombre es Shirley Eniang y ella tiene veintidós. Ella vive en Londres, Inglaterra. Shirley es bastante inteligente creatíva. Ella muy baja y guapa. Shirley es un poquito delgada pero ella no gordo. Le gusta zapatos ir de compras, ir de compras con amigos y pasar ratos con amigos. Ella es bastante simpática, sociable, un poquito boba. No le gusta jugar deportes. Le encanta descansar 
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Trapped

   God, What should I do? Where should I go? How can I get out of this? Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong on this earth. I’ve been having second thoughts on my life.  I am stuck in middle of know where with trees, a body of water and leaves falling everywhere all over me. There is no sunlight and all I see is animals run back and fourth through here. I am scared, lonely and cold. I don’t know what season it is. 

     I don’t know what the day it is? I don’t know when my birthday is. The only person I can leave out this world with is you. I believe you can help me if I keep praying on it. I came in this world by myself and I don’t want to leave this world by myself. Everyday I wonder why? Why did I come into this world? Why I am along? Why me? I am a young boy who’ve have not learned the value of life. I don’t know why life is important. I don’t know if life is short or long. What is the meaning to life? I have no one to ask that question to but you.

    Every night I go to bed thinking I would wake up the next morning in the morning with family in my life. I don’t know what family is because I don’t have one. God your my family. I don’t know how I got here and why I am here. I have been sitting here on this log watching the sky imaging. Imaging what your thinking or listening to what I am saying. I think in my head its no point of me being here. For the last couple of months the one thing that came to my mind is, what if? What if I have a family. What if the things I’ve been praying on became true. And What if someone is looking for me. But then People don’t even know if I am alive or dead. 

    I wish I would had the opportunity to go places and learned things in this world and thats why I am asking you if you could change this for me. I lost everything in my life and need help. Since your the only one here I have the opportunity I wanted to ask you. I will keep praying day and night for help.  God, can you, wait I hear something. God is that you? 

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Vanessa Marano

Se llama Vanessa Nicole Marano. Tiene dieci nueve (19) años. Ella es de Los Angeles. Ella es morena.Ella es morena. Ella es muy bonita. Ella es también talentosa. Ella es súper sociable. Y como si fuera poco ella es cómica. Le gusta siempre actuación. Le gusta también pasar un rato con amigos.

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Gina Sorgentoni

Se llama Gina Sorgentoni. Tiene catorce años. Ella es alta y muy guapa pero no es perezosa. Le gusta leer y ir al cine. No le gusta nada practicar deportes. Ella de descendencia italiana. Le fascina ver le tele Doctor Who con me. Gina es increíble.
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Josh Hutcherson

El eś Josué Hutcherson. Eś chico. Soy de Kentucky, pero vivo en California. El eś diecinueve anos, le feliz cumpleanos octubre doce. Le no me gusta nada, leer. El eś bueno en bailar. Le encanta comer. El eś súper cómico. 

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Q1

​For this quarter, I had a lot of free time to explore different things and develop new creative ideas. I had the chance to get a bit of writing done which is something I never get a chance to do anymore. I also got to make my college essay amazing and creative because of the time we had, and I think that is the greatest type of art there is. 

I also got the chance to create traditional sugar mask that are apart of a Mexican tradition. I used Frankie's face to do the mold, and I painted it so it can resemble a warrior. I purposely had him keep his mouth open wide so my mask can appear to be screaming something. I painted my mask blue, red and black. I think those colors represent being bold and courageous.

Here is my mask here:

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Bella Mezzaroba

Se llama Bella, ella es italiana. Tiene 14 años. ¡ Es un amor de gente! Ella es bastante guapa y más o menos baja. Ella es por lo general loca y divertida. Le gusta jugar videojuegos y pasar un rato con amigos. No le gusta nada cocinar.  Le encanta ver la tele Doctor Who y Supernatural siempre. Depende del día Bella le gusta dibujar. Me gusta estar de vago con Bella.
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Jordan Dreyer

Se llama Jordan Dreyer. Es de Grand Rapids, Michigan. Es increiblemente talentoso, trabajadoro, y creativo. Le fascina escribir y cantar. Le gusta escuchar música tambiénY como si fuera poco, es muy simpático!
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