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Henry Poeng

Gold Stream

“The Asian That Could”

“Ey yo, ching diggity!”

“.....”

“Do... you... under...stand?”

“....”

“Whateva get outta here Jackie Chan, your not worth my time.”

I was crushed. Do I look like a slow child or something? Why did he speak to me like that. Like I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. I just walked away defeated and powerless. When I got far enough, I turned around to see my harasser. He was a tall kid, rag bag clothes, and had a School District of Philadelphia ID around his neck. The back drop of the surrounding area just made it worse. Destroyed houses, wild grass, and broken side walks all matched the mood. The worse part is, it made me think of ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages). 

“Welcome to ESOL everyone, now i’m sure you barely understand me, but hopefully by the end of your time here, you should be able to have conversations with one another in English. Lets start by introducing our names. You seem quiet, how about you go first.”

“Ja, ja ,amesss”

“Hen... bry. Henbry”

It was just first grade, I was barely into school, and already I knew this wasn’t going to be a good year. New school, new people, and english was still slipping my mind. The only class I was doing good in was math. Why? because, math is a universal language that everyone can speak, and since I couldn’t understand english, why not math? That probably explains why most asians are good at math. Although it was still a struggle throughout most of  elementary school. I had the most difficultly in first through third grade. Why? Well because the quest to learn and dominate the english language is long, difficult and almost impossible as I learned over the years. 

“Henry would you like to read todays announcements?” 

“No”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“Just know that this is part of your participation grade.”

So I started, slow, shaky, and scared.

“Come and.. jo... oin us at your fist frmerly di..nner.”

Laughter and humiliation bellowed from the heart of the room, crushing my morale. From that day forth, I vowed to never participate willingly again, regardless of the situation. But that didn’t last very long because the urge to voice my opinion overcame my vow, and eventually overcame my fear as well. It was frustrating to not understand what someone is saying, and to not be able to voice what I want to say because no one would understand me. Little did I know, it was a good push for me to learn. 

“Welcome back to school everyone!, who wants to tell me about their winter break first? How about you Henry?”

“Well it was pretty fun, but I am not sure of what I did on those days of break.”

Fourth grade is when it all started coming together. Confidence, accent, it was like a new me was born. The confidence just kept building and building, and it felt great. By 5th grade, my accent was gone and I spoke mostly proper english by my consideration. My spirit was through the roof, and I was proud to say that I had learned a third language. To this very day, I am still learning tips and tricks to further “enhance” the english experience.

“Yo ching chong wiggity wong!, going back to your sweat shop?”

“If by house, then yes.”

“Oh you can speak now, congradumacalations. Someone took long enough to learn engeresh, homeboi skilly bizdaddy.”

“Please, say it with me, Eng... Lish. For someone that likes to pick on other people, you sure don’t know anything.” 

“I gotchu, asian boi got some skills, and is all confident now huh?”

“I had enough of this.”

  The look on his face was priceless after I walked away with the biggest smile. When I got far enough, I looked back towards his direction. Same old rag bag clothes, and same old backdrop after all these years. It makes me wonder sometimes. 

Ever since that day, I assumed people who spoke like that were bad, not necessarily because they are bad people, but because of bad experiences. Kind of like getting hit by a basketball in the head a couple times and then developing a phobia to it. In “If Black English Isn’t a Language, Then Tell Me, What Is?” by James Baldwin, there is a quote that I strongly stand by. “To open your mouth in England is (if I may use black English) to “Put your business in the street””. This can be interpreted as “Letting people know who you are”. This quote explains how people subconsciously judge each other by how they speak. That’s what I do, and i’m pretty sure that’s what everyone else does too. It’s almost like reading a biography on that person, and each biography teaches a lesson.

Language is something that is  apart of who you are as person. As a young foolish teen once made up, “A well educated person will speak proper, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong wit showin da real you.” You can go to a job interview and dress to impress but you speech is weak, chances are you won’t get accepted. As for what I learned so far, language shows a couple of things about a person. Education, background, and history. If I were to say water in New York, they would be able to tell that I was from Philly just because of the way I pronounced it. If you are dedicated enough, you can bend your language and make convey what you want to. 

Victoria Odom

Language Essay

Translation Please!!

 

“You ain’t gon do shhhit!”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re not going to do anything.”

“Bitch I air you out.”

 “And what does that mean?”

“She’s going to curse her out.”

 

I took a walk around the neighborhood with my best friend and saw two girls arguing. We stopped and gathered the crowd around them to see what the argument was about. In my mind I already knew I’d have to be the one translating for Chrissy. The two girls were both black and looked older than us, about sixteen or seventeen. With us being thirteen, and Chrissy not getting out much, she had never heard that kind of language before.

 

“If that’s what they mean, than why don’t they just say that?”

“You ask to many questions, shut up and listen!”

 

The sound of an angry parent lurked the air and immediately everyone splits. After about 5 minutes of running, Chrissy and I decide to both go home. Walking into the house I started to think about what Chrissy said. If the girls really meant what I explained to Chrissy than why didn’t they just say that.

 

Most who look down on blacks refer to the way they speak as “slang” or “nigga talk” but for me it comes natural because it’s the way of English I speak most often. My language does change a lot depending on my environment. With friends and family my age, I use “slang” because we adapted to that language as we grew up. When with them, I replace the “th” in they, that, them, their, there, and they’re, with a “d” creating “dey, dat, dem, deir, dere, and dey’re”. When in a professional environment I annunciate my words more, creating the more standard way of speaking English. “Yes, I agree with you completely.” rather than saying, “Yeah, you right you right!” Speaking more formal gives me power because it gives others a chance to hear my voice for more respect.

 

That wasn’t always the case for me, I use talk “white” growing up in private school but, some of them use to say I talked funny.

 

“Can you pass me a napkin please and thank you.”

“Why you talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“So white, what you half white or something?”

“No my mom taught me to always speak as if I’m educated.”

 

            Being much younger then, about the age of nine, I didn’t fully understand why other kids my age didn’t pronounce of their words.

It all depends on their environment because that’s what shapes you. You can’t choose your first language, its kind of chosen for you at birth. Whatever native tongue your parents or guardians speak is the language you learn first. After you learn to fully speak a language you make it your own in a way, by choosing the way you want to speak it. Speaking with confidence in mind, shows power and giving off that demand for respect.

 

If Black English isn’t a language; Then tell me what is? By James Baldwin, he says “The argument has nothing to do with language itself but with the role language.”. This quote shows that a language is a language but differs by the way it’s spoken or who it’s spoken by. Saying “Who you talking to?” in “slang” shows people in today’s society that you have little to no respect or are uneducated because you leave out the “are”. By saying “Who are you talking too?”, it shows you  have higher class and a decent amount of education.

 

            Language shows your character and creates an identity for us individually. It also varies in our environment depending on the people around us, forming our personality. Language makes us who we are today and shapes us as we use it.

​Chapeter 2: Revealed 

            Chris and Kori found a new place that was never revealed in their Regional Blue-Ford High School. What was this? They did not know. As what was known, that their high school was not a high school before. The school was hiding this secret room for ages. Or did they not know? All Chris Row and Kori Santiago knew was that this was another adventure they were going on.

            "You do it", says Kori demandingly to Chris, "I am not going to pull it."

Chris turns to Kori, "The school must been hiding this old library for years! No one even knew we had a library."

             "What school do you know that doesn't have a library genius? Obviously something wasn't right in this school", says Kori.

"How about we both pull the book from the shelf together Kori?"

"Okay on the count of three."

Chris and Kori Count to three simultaneously, "One, Two, Three!"

            Chris and Kori had never seen anything like it. The doors slide open and there it was. A secret room behind the unknown library shelves. The doors slid open, with the dust blowing in their faces. It wasn’t something Chris and Kori wanted to find, but knew that they would find something out of the ordinary. Chris thought that his was out of this world. They both slowly walk into the revealed room anxiously.

            "It looks like a science lab?" says Kori as she idles her way into the secret room. Chris was astonished by what he saw. He knew that school was hiding something, but didn't know it was hiding more then just a library. It was hiding a whole science lab.

            "This is not an ordinary science lab Kori, this looks like a science-engineer lab!"

Kori looks at Chris as if had something on his face. "What is the difference? A lab is a lab Chris, I think we should get out of here like now."

            Chris looks around at the machines that are in the mysterious room. He glances at many machine parts in the room.  "You don't know anything Kori, do you pay any attention in Engineer class? I think you don't." Kori rolls her eyes at Chris and acts like he say what he said out his mouth.

            "I'm not going to argue with you right now but we need to ge-." Chris interrupts Kori's raving.

            "This can't be! It just can't be!" Chris looking at the weird machines almost the size of an elephant. "Do you know what this means Kori? "Kori looks at Chris as if he was an insane maniac. Chris was always getting into trouble. When ever Chris is getting himself into trouble Kori is always right along with him. She knew that she was going to be stuck in this dilemma and there was no way out.

            "Chris what is this thing?" ask Kori as she walks into the machine. "It looks like some type of time portal."

            Kori quickly gets out of the machine after Chris told her what it was. "Time portal? Do they even exist?" Chris looks at Kori as if she said something foolish. Kori was a bright girl, but Chris always says something to her that doesn’t sound right.

            “Obviously not in this time Kori, but this means that our school was once a home for science engineers. I know this because I heard Ms. Lacebark talk about it last year to her senior class. “No one ever believed any thing Ms. Lacebark said, not even her own husband. Everyone thought she was a crazy old lady that lived at home with 6 cats. She always came to science engineering class smelling like cats. “

            Kori stops and looks at Chris, “Why would you believe anything that lunatic says? She doesn’t even remember what assignments she gives us from the previous day! How can she remember that scientist used to work here?”

            Chris keeps observing the machine and sees something lighting up. “Kori come here look a button, and it looks like it is still lighting up.” Kori stands behind Chris with her hands on his shoulders seeking as if she wanted comfort.

“What is that Chris? Don’t yo-“. Chris presses the blue button and something miraculously happened. Both kids jumped back and were afraid of what was going on. “Chris what is it Chris I am scared.” Kori was afraid and got closer to Chris. “Kori I was right, it is a time portal or some sort.” Kori and Chris stood up slowly and walked toward the machine. It was something they never seen before. The light was bright glowing brighter then the sign. The machine was huge, with a flat bottom and a circular body. The glow kept sparkling. It seem the sparks was getting bigger.

            “Chris do not go near it! You don’t really know what that thing is.”  Kori held Chris back, but Kris was determined to check it out. “Kori I’m not going to touc-.” Chris and Kori both stopped. There was this sound, a sound as if they were not alone in the room. Someone else was in the room. “Do you here that Kori?” Chris holds on to Kori like the way she was holding on to him. “Chris someone else is in here, or “something.” They both stopped and listen to the sound. It didn’t sound like a person but more of an animal of some sort. It looks like it was coming from behind the science table with all the humungous machine parts.

            “Kori don’t move the sound is coming closer!” she holds her hand so she won’t move. Kori looks at Chris. “We have to get the hell out of here like now Chr-.” Chris pulls Kori and runs. “Kori watch out!”

            Chris pulls Kori and runs with her. What beast was chasing after them? It was big, hairy, and breath was dripping drool. When Chris and Kori look in front of them, they ran in side the portal. Before they knew it, they were in another world unknown to man. Let alone them selves. What place did this teleportation device take them?

 

​

Due-January 13^th, 2011                        Figuring It Out            Katherine Hunt

 “Yo, those jeans are smexy!”

“I know! I want them jawns in blue.”

“I want them too.”             

“I prolly cop me some of them. You know, in multiple colors. The green ones are my favorite you guys.”

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yo, what you think and why you so quiet, Katherine?” and everyone slowly turns their attention towards me.

 I give a quick shrug and give a confused face as if someone were speaking to me in a language I don’t understand.

As everyone continues to converse, I sit around and observe, I observe everyone’s moves and the words that people use and the things that people say. I’m not one to say much because most of the time I don’t know what to say, nor do I know what I feel. I don’t have everything figured out like the people around me. My voice isn’t heard enough, I lack sharing my self-expression. To think about it, once upon a time, self-expression was once key to everything, when I used to feel like I was a part of everything. That was when keeping a conversation with someone was practical.

 “Katherine how was your day?”

I Shrugs.

“Can you answer my question?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Cool, cool.”

I keep quiet

“Can you say something?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything!”

I stay silent and make a confused face.

 “Gosh, I feel like I’m speaking to a brick wall!”

I don’t reply, and I sits with a blank look, thinking.

  I felt like I didn’t want to understand the words that were being said to me. I knew I wasn’t quite communicating enough. It was as if I was Richard Rodriguez when he said, “I tried not to hear it anymore, but I heard all too well the calm easiness in the attendant’s reply.” The words were spoken so easily and with such tranquility, yet the words that I wanted to depict were lost within my thoughts. They were jumbled up the way that earphones get after being thrown in a bag with other cords.

  After trying for about two or more minutes frustration always seems to kick in, so I just stop. Something is wrong in my brain and the way I think. Something is wrong with me. It seems like everyone is on the same page, but I’m chapters behind. There’s one thing that blocks me from continuing. It’s as if I’m infatuated with my past and can’t move on to my future.

  Laughter remains the most in my memories, and feelings of acceptance no longer remain at all. I am an outsider. I don’t act or think the same way people do; I’m different. I’m aware that I’m not normal, but then again what does normal even mean? It means that people follow certain standards to be certain ways, dress with the same trends, think the same way others do. Clearly, I am don’t follow other people’s standards.

 

Everything used to seem so right before. Once everything was so simple and there was nothing for me to really worry about. The only thing that remains now is broken trust within myself, because the moves I make always seem to be held back. It not only frustrates others, but it frustrates me. The words don’t come out. The sounds are baffling and sound like:

 “Well, ummmm… Whaaah… wha, what-t, I men meant… t um say…”

 “Katherine, just speak! I bet what you want to say, I bet isn’t that hard to say.”

“It is. I mean… I. Don’t. Uhmm, know. I can’t express it.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try! The words that are left unspoken are the ones that hurt the most”

  The words lingered throughout my brain. All the things that people said to me were true. Well at least, I believed they were. With my round face getting hotter and redder by the minute from the frustration that I hold inside. My body begins to make my eyebrows furrow and my eyes water for no reason. This isn’t normal one bit; there has to be something is wrong me. After hearing things so many times it was unbearably remarkable that I had to take the time and attention to adhere to the situation. This was just one of those things that I just had to get used to. I had to get used to trying to speak and trying to satisfy others and myself at the same time.

  I knew that the first thing was admitting that I needed to try to change my ways, so that at least I’d be able to ensure that communication with other people was just better. The amount that I communicate with people has to be at least suitable for the encounter, enough communication so people won’t be bored, but not so much that I’m not speaking too much until people get annoyed with my presence. The goal here is communication.

  Everyday I set a new goal for myself. I may not be the most social person, but I try. I rather listen than talk, but everyone needs his or her voice to be heard. Every voice has a person behind it and a reason and a way of expression. I haven’t quite frankly found the way that I can express myself with words. It takes time.

  The time that it takes also comes with the patience and understanding. I don’t have it all figured out, but hopefully one day, I will. One day I’ll be able to say more that just “Umm… I don’t know”. The day that my voice is heard, is today. Maybe today I’m saying too much or too little, but it’s okay. In my mind, I said enough. I found the courage to realize that I’m different and not everyone communicates in the same way, but sooner or later I’ll figure it out. If I don’t ever understand how, it’s okay  because saying something is better than not saying anything. 

Sophia Henninger

Science Fiction Story

January 13, 2012

English - Earth

Have you ever stood on the edge of a tall building, looked down, and known exactly what you wanted? All the doubt I had in my mind was washed away with one glance at the sidewalk. Of course, I was afraid, my hands trembled within each other but I knew what I had to do. I looked over my shoulder, saw the suited men stumble out of stairway and run towards me. The last time I looked down at the sidewalk it was nothing special. Ants of cars were driving by and specs of people hurried past each other. It was a normal day for them, it started like any other and would end like any other, but I thought that too when I woke up. 

The alarm ripped me from my dreams of golden, hot sand under my feet, a perfectly burning sun over my head, and blue, crashing, waves on my horizon. Without even opening my eyes, my hand swung over to smack the clock until it was quiet and with a groan, I got out of bed. It wasn’t until I sat up that I realized how much I drank the night before. The night hadn’t yet materialized in my mind but I decided not to worry about it. I crept past my roommate’s door, hoping not to wake her up. I didn’t want to disturb her slumber after her night of vicious drinking. After nights like those, it usually became my responsibility to regale her with the events of the evening in excruciating detail but since the details weren’t even forming for me, I did my best to be silent as I made coffee and went out for the day. 

I walked around the city streets, peering into restaurant and boutique windows, searching for any signs of employment opportunities. This had become a daily ritual since I was ‘let go’ from my previous job. The manager of the store was convinced that some of the odd occurrences around the shop had been my fault. A particular incident involving the unexplainable movement of merchandise was the main reason I was fired. Of course, this episode was preceded by other minor incidents of floating trinkets or shaking shelves. I never meant to scare anyone; I was only having a little fun. 

I slowed my stroll after no success for about 10 blocks. I stopped on the corner and just took in my surroundings. Everything was normal for this section of New York on a Tuesday morning. Men and women, all dressed in suits for work brushed past me mumbling their hurried, “Excuse me”’s and “Oh, sorry..”’s along the way. They all looked the same to me, which is why it’s odd that a few men caught my eye. They were dressed like everyone else, looking sleek and polished, but they were all staring at me. One on each of the other corners of the intersection. The men would be looking at me, look at each other, then back to me. Without thinking, I turned and quickly made my way back to my apartment. 

My roommate was sitting on the couch, facing away from me when I walked in. She must not have heard me come in because when I asked how she was feeling, she jumped. She let out a little yelp and sprung up from the couch, turning to face me. She was shaking as she took tentative steps back. “Da-don’t come na-near me!” 

I was very confused. When I took a few steps towards her, she shrieked and pressed herself against the wall. As I slowly walked towards her, I had my hands stretched towards her, trying to clam her down. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Stay away from me!” She was trembling violently. Tears covered her entire face. I had never seen anyone so afraid. 

I stopped about five feet away from her. She shrunk down and curled into a fetal position. I still didn’t understand why she was acting this way. “Did I do something?”

She looked up at me, obviously still terrified, but confused at the same time. I casually lifted my arm to head and she flinched again. She was staring at my hand; whenever it moved her shaking intensified. Her eyes were still stuck to my hand when she muttered, “You.. Yu-you went crazy lah-last night.” She glanced at my face and realized that I had no idea what she was talking about. “Weh-We were ah-out and you were loaded. I don’t know what happened bu-but you just got s-so angry. Shit started f-flying around. I-I tried to calm y-you down but then e-even more stuff started flying around. Drinks exploded. The windows started cracking. I went to grab you, but shit was like circling around you. Half the people were screaming and running away the other half just kinda watched you and then you just passed out cold. I was freaking out but I kind of just dragged you home...” She was much calmer by the time she finished telling me the story but she was still crouched in a ball against the wall. 

I didn’t remember any of this happening. All I remembered was going out ad then waking up. But then I looked at my hands. It all clicked for me. 

I’d known I was different for a long time but never understood how different. I’d alway been able to move little things with out touching them. Just things like pushing a pen off the table or pulling a cup from across the counter into my hands. As I got older, I discovered I could do different things. I could move heavy things with just a twitch of my hand. I could crush things with thoughts that I couldn’t put a dent in if I used my hand. It had always just a fun thing to do. Push things off a teacher’s desk, or flick the lights on and off. No one ever knew it was me; they always figured to was a fluke. For a moment I was reminiscing about the pranks I used to pull when there was a pounding on the door. 

The pounding wasn’t of someone with a heavy hand knocking on the door but of someone trying to take it down. Without warning the hinges snapped and the door flew to the floor. The three men in suits walked in and surveyed the room. When their eyes fell on me I panicked, completely forgetting my roommate, still fearfully tucked away, I ran around the couch but two men blocked me while the other hopped over the couch and blocked the other exit. On instinct, I thrusted my hands forward, into the chests of the men. I could feel the force rolling down my arms and into their bodies, even though it happened in less than an instant. They didn’t fly across the room like I had expected but they all fell back. Before they could get back on their feet I jumped over and rushed out the door. 

All the way down the stairs and outside, the men were almost caught up. I had no idea why they were after me but I didn’t want to find out. I wasn’t running fast enough to evade them for long, even though I could hear the wind buzz past my ears. I had never used my ability other than to move other things. It had never occurred to me to use it on myself. As one of the men reached out to grab me, I pushed down on the sidewalk with everything I could and bolted forward. This speed was super human, I could feel it the pressure pulling on my skin, my cheeks felt as though were seconds from flying off. I couldn’t run like this forever. Thats when I saw the building. 

I pushed through the doors and continued running towards the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, I saw the men bursting through the door. They saw me and figured where I was heading. I was going to the top floor. The elevator opened again, I ran down the hallway, trying to find the roof access. I forced the door open without touching it and ran straight to the edge. While looking forward, I still had a plan, I still knew what I was going to do. But once I looked down, not a sliver of the plan I was so sure of stuck to my mind. This is where I am now. 

I’m looking down at the ant cars, and the specs of people. The men are coming towards me. I wish I had more time to think about this or practice what I was about to do. This is all instinct. The last thing that went through my mind was how these people days were about to change, as quickly as mine did. So, the men reached out to pull me back, but I had already taken my last step. I pulled myself away from the building and to my greatest relief, I still haven’t hit the ground. 

Michael Hall                                                 Flash Back                                     1-4-11

 

“Well son do ya know how mucha dats gonna will cost ya ?”

My dad responded with a sarcastic remark “ Well out of all de people not to know how much somehtin cost you shoulda.”

“I wasn’t talking to you I was talking to this young man right hereya” the clerk said

“Well sir, I can’t talk about business like that because its not my money” I said

“Well looky there this boy don learned how to talk “smart”! the clerk man said with a surprised voiced

As I looked back on that day I recall some things I had not noticed back then. A man about the age of thirty maybe, asking a twelve-year-old how much a cost was and that he went straight to me and not my dad. It didn’t come to mind that the few words I said to him gave that much of an impression about me. I didn’t mean to sound the way I did but it just came out that way. For example if they say “hey man, where you gonna be hangin your hat at later?” , I would say “Hey where are you going to be late on?”. It was because I pronounced every letter to the dot and didn’t stutter any words was because he probably though these things. I was a kid visiting his dad in Louisiana because his parents had spilt when he was just a baby. Any how during most of the year I stayed with my mother in Philadelphia, where I learned many habits I have now. One habit that I didn’t even notice I was getting was my “smart” way of talking.

This was not the only incident like itself.  As time went on I slowly understood what my southern neighbors were talking about. It was at one of my cousin’s house where I was visiting them. I was down there for the summer and they go to school earlier than me so while I was sitting playing the Wii , they were at the table doing homework.

“Michael you always be sounded smart , help your cousins with they homework”.

“Yea Michael come and help me wit dis stuff” my cousin said with a puzzled look on his face.

Now there’s nothing wrong with asking for help from someone but basing that help on how someone sounds isn’t the way to go. I ended up helping him but looking back I should have made him explain what he meant. I mean to think that to base a person on there intelligence means basing them on there manner of speaking just interest me. Even though just like before an much older and wiser person was around they still assumed that since I sounded smart I was smarter. When I looked at the homework it was still difficult for me even though I always “sound smart”.

I’m not saying that all adults are smarter than kids because I can’t say that and I’m not saying that there haven’t been times where the “sound smart” effect hasn’t been true. I was helping my uncle fix a TV but, the problem wasn’t the hardware , it was the menu on the TV. My uncle had taken the machine apart and put it back together. Then he flipped the screens and checked it for any damages. Once he had his fill of handy work I finally came from my room and read that you have to turn it on. I took the remote and did a simple motion over the button and the TV turned on.  This doesn’t prove that my uncle is a idiot but in that moment I had more power because I understood that more. It had nothing to do with the way I talked but simply because I comprehended it better.

For people from the south, they way they talk means their slower and dumber but, that’s not the only language stereotype. For New Yorkers it’s that they are rude when in truth I have met some very nice New Yorkers who could prove that old theory wrong. Its also said that New Yorkers are mean and have a short temper, this little myth could affect a New Yorkers life style. People might treat them nicer thinking that if they didn’t it could raise their temper up. This wouldn’t be giving the person any power over their life.

A quote from the article Borderlands by Glona Anzaldina , the quote says “you’re speaking the oppressors language by speaking English , you’re ruining the Spanish language”. What the quote means to me is that a language can either give or take away power. In this quote the power is being taken away because the person talking is talking the oppressors language. Oppressors are usually people who hold people down with authority so if the person is talking the language of the oppressors it means that he or she’s power is being taking away.

Another quote from the article hunger of Memory by Richard Rodriguez, the quote  “Conveyed through those sounds was the pleasuring, soothing, consoling reminder of being at home”. In this quote language gives the power of security and if language can give this power then it can also make a person feel like they do not belong in a place. Not just through words but how a person speaks can do it.

People’s own way of talking  not only gives some of their identity away but it also gives away some power by exposing that person’s way to communicate with the world. If taken correctly it could give a person a major boost in life but if that way is taken as a weakness then more than likely that person will be held back from some of their life’s goals. If talking the way you were taught is a pretention problem then people holding back from society is better than talking and being accused of “talking smart” or “speakin stupid”.  

 

 

Tyler Creighton 

English Essay Pahomov 

Do I sound like that ?

“Yo look at her hair its a hot ass mess”

“She’s just a whole f**king HAM”

“Do I look like that ?”

“ Of corse not”

“Oh ard betta not”

Behind the locker I automatically assume it’s the same group of people who always talking about people but this time I was wrong. To my surprise it was my group of friends I’m usually around. This kind of shocked me because I began to judge them by what they say and how they thought. I began to wonder to myself “Do I talk like that? Do other people hear me? What do they think?” But instead I quietly continue with what I was doing before hand.

“Ctfu I would never look like that”

“Total weirdo” 

 The chatter fades as the crowd of obnoxious girl teens walk away, I gather my things and leave.

As I was sitting on the bus on my way home later that day, I thought about the girls. I thought about how being out with these people reflects on me and what people think of me. The ignorance ,rudeness and obnoxiousness does it reflect upon me or am I apart of this? 

I could never see myself being as ignorant enough to say such things but then again I actually do. It’s become such a norm that I never even noticed what is being said or what other people hear. In school I hear my friends call people all types of names “weirdo” , or “ham” meaning  hot ass mess. I cant allow myself to be so open about my opinion or in other so harsh and be judged by people the way I'm judging them. I watch what i say around people so it wont be labeled as “Ghetto” or “Ignorant”. Although there are some parts I’m good at hiding this there are other things that are much harder. It’s a stereotype that young kids are very loud and this is what I have difficulty hiding. Most of the time it’s not even noticeable but when i do notice it and sit and listen i become a bit embarrassed and as wild as this sounds a bit disappointed.In my mind at the time staying quiet ,sitting was the only thing that was really right at that moment. 

Finally in their conversation as I listened I really began to think about these two words they say that i absolutely hate and just cant say so freely with out biting my tongue after or while I’m saying it. These are words i cant describe. They are just two words of ignorance. I feel its just so inappropriate and uncalled for. When said I feel the uerg to say something . But i don't because Im to afraid they are going to judge me on the way i speak and how its to proper “too white”. As said in ... “The curse of a moderately soulful kid trapped in a white body” Is the way I feel when I discuss these issues. It’s sort of similar to African american’s using the name nigger to categorize there color and white usually use the word dude to categorizes there , Its just what people have done over the years its “their word” .Their word meaning only their race color age or anything like them can say it and if you not in the category your wrong for doi  When I say the words the literally burn my tongue as the harsh words spits them out onto someone like burning venom. It kind of hurts me to hear these words because its a sign of disrespect and no home training.

Im not ashamed of my friends or no one else, but I also wouldn’t converse around a lot of people. Desperately I wanna be myself at times and not have to cover the way I speak and just be my self but being around people that make it that way, I cant.In the story (__) _____ Says “The brutal truth is that the bulk of white/black people in America never had a interest in educating black folks”. and my friends make it seem like we don’t have education. This quote gives me strength to be different from others and continue to sound educated. But the same way they sound different and at times uneducated to me I might sound different to many people also. My good sense tells me who i am and no matter whats around me and what I hear or how I talk I am still educated. This quote inspires to show my education by my vocabulary and expanding to to the biggest variety  as I can. Its not my job to change the minds and the way many people speak. But what I  can do is help my peers expand their vocabulary and listen and change how sound and alert others when they do also. One day I strive to  accept the way i speak and how everyone comes from different back rounds and I have to accept that to move on. 

The Truly Lonely

The sun was brighter than it had been in a while in Houston. But, this didn’t mean anything to Charlie. He knew that his routine would still be the same. His arm throbbed as he massaged the swelling. Nothing could make him happy about waking up in the morning. At about 9am, he left for the school. As he walked into the classroom, the terror began. His students were starting at him with a grin on his face. An array of chuckles swept across the room.

“Hey Dumbo, I see you’re hear late today,” said his students.

Everyone in the room laughed and threw a piece of paper at him. He turned his face to dodge it, but was so tired that he couldn’t succeed. After the paper fell to the ground, he reached to pick it up, but was to exhausted to do so. Then, he said something in a faint voice.

“If only they knew my circumstance, if only they knew how much I loved them and longed for a child of my own,” whispered Charlie. “Turn your books to page 50.”

“Yeah, right,” said a majority of students. All but one member of the class rose up and left the classroom. Tears appeared on Charlie’s face.

“Are you okay sir,” said the remaining student, Lisa.

“I will be,” said Charlie.

Later that day, Charlie entered the hospital.

“Mr. Reed, the doctor will see you now for your Testicular disease.”

Charlie entered the examining room.

“Hello buddy, let me check you out,” said the doctor.

The doctor stuck the needle in Charlie’s arm. His face grew pale as the blood was collected. He let out a gasp. As a result, Charlie looked down at the needle. He was shocked to see blue blood, as this had never been an effect of his disease. The doctor ran in fear. Suddenly, Charlie face turned red. His hair fell out and he grew weak. The doctor returned with a protective face-mask on.

“Get this man to a chemical vat,” screamed the doctor.

A group of nurses came in and grabbed Charlie. They threw him onto the gurney and wheeled him away. A few hours later, Charlie was released from the hospital. He was given a ride home by one of the nurses. After arriving, he found himself being greeted by his student Lisa.

“Lisa, what are you doing outside of my front door,” said Charlie.

“I just wanted to check on you sir,” said Lisa. “My friends were very awful to you. They put gasoline on those pieces of paper that they threw at you.”

“What,” screamed a still tired Charlie. “Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

“I didn’t have the chance to.”

Charlie became more coherent with reality as he remembered his condition. Not only did he have an unknown disease that interfered with his ability to have children, but he also had always been allergic to gasoline. He remembered that if he were to have a reaction to it once more, combined with the effects of the reproductive disease, he would explode in two days. Thus, he had only one day left to live.

“Lisa, I can’t talk right now.”

He slammed the door in her face and walked up to his bedroom. He looked in the mirror and touched his reflection before getting into bed. He lay in bed with his eyes open.

“What will I do,” he whispered. “I have no choice.”

His tear duct felt like it needed to cry, but that was far too strenuous, given his condition. So, he just lay there gazing at the darkness. The next morning, a knock was at the door. It was Lisa. She broke the door open and searched for Charlie.

“Mr. Reed, where are you?”

She ran up to the bedroom and found nothing but a stain of blood on his sheets.

“Daddy, where are you,” she cried. “Now you will never know the truth.”

She dropped to the ground before his bloody bed and cried until the floor was soaked with her tears.

 

Maggie Long

Earth

The Lies in Beliefs

“It’s this fuckin headache, I swear!” I say as I grab onto Tom’s shoulder for support. He has been my best friend since Kindergarten. I tell him everything. “Lizzy, you need to go to the nurse. This is the 2^nd day in a row this week you have been getting lightheaded and faint.” He says. The only thing he doesn’t know about me is the events that happened on the Thursday of last week. Or well, he knew what happened…just doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t know we were the lucky ones out. We escaped the grips of the unknown.

            Tom and I have a routine before we go to classes. I stop at my locker, he comes skateboarding down the hall and hands me a note as he passes. It’s my good morning note. Some say things like, “You’re too beautiful to put into words”, or “I could spend my whole life with you and it wouldn’t be enough time.” Little cute things like that. Although, we are not boyfriend and girlfriend. We can’t be. At least, not anymore. Not after finding out the truth. The events of December 22^nd 2011 are never to be repeated. Until now.

            I got up, did my hair, makeup, all of that good stuff. I went to school. Tom gave me my morning note. Although, he was a bit late to school. His family is a trouble for him. They hate him. One of the reasons we are friends is because of that. His mom liked me. She thought of me as his role model. He was just madly in love with me. As I was walking to my first class, I saw someone looking at me through the window. I had to go see who it was. There was just something too strange about it. I glanced over and saw a little girl. She looked like a little toy doll. Her hair was brown and curly, she had on red lipstick and a red dress that was absolutely beautiful. I didn’t understand why she was here in my high school. Since I was already late to class, I followed her to see if she needed any help finding her way.

            As I turned the corner to catch up to the girl I find myself knocked out cold. I remember someone dragging me into the bathroom, but I was so out of it I couldn’t make out who it was. Next thing I know I was laying on a table in a bright white room. I wiggled around a bit to try to move my arms but to my surprise I was tied up to the table. That’s when the panic set in. Where am I? Who did this? Why am I tied up? All of these unanswered questions left hanging in the air. As I sit and figure out what I am going to do, I hear a noise. It sounds like a high-pitched scream. Suddenly a woman walks in. She presses a few buttons and the noise goes off. “Hello Lizzy. Welcome back home.”

            “Who are you?....What do you mean, “home”?” I cry out. “We have much to talk about Liz….much to talk about.” The lady says. I sit there as though I am in the shower. With tears dripping down my face. Will I ever get to go to my actual home? The lady cuts the rope holding me back. I instantly feel my wrists. They hurt a lot. I check the rest of my body. What is this lump in the back of my head? I don’t remember falling. “Come with me” The lady says. I enter a room that looks like something from an article for the future. Touch screen everything. I also see Tom. He’s playing basketball with some other kids that look about our age. “TOM!” I yell. “Hey Lizzy! Come play!” He says. Why is he talking like he’s not in a whole other place. “You should listen to Tom, go play with your brothers.” The lady whispers into my ear. Brothers? What the fuck? Tom is my best friend. NOT a brother.

            “Remember the girl you followed during school?”

            “Yea, what happened after I got clunked in the head?”

            “Liz, that is your sister. I am your mother. And the kids in that room in front of you are your other siblings or relatives. You were a microchip baby. We programmed you to act like a normal kid on Earth so that we can monitor the humans and how they are surviving even though they are all vicious killers.”

            “……We are not vicious killers. I AM a human. I was never a microchip baby or whatever your telling me! Bring me back to my family. NOW.”

            “Liz, you will be re-programmed tonight. You do not have a choice. We have to reboot you to the newest setting in our system. I’m sorry. I really wish this could have gone a different way. Please forgive us.”

            “How can I forgive you for lying to me and holding me hostage in this creepy place! The jokes over. Come on now, its not funny anymore. Let me go home. Let me be with my REAL family!” I screamed out at her.

            “Ah, what the hell is that?! My head! Make the noise stop!”

            “Liz, that is the time ticking in your head. The program is shutting down. You will die if you don’t let me change you!”

            “I-I-I I cant let you ch-ch-ch-change me. I am ME. Why am I slowing down and st-st-st-stuttering? What’s going on? Whats that light? MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT STOP……”

 

 

To be continued……

After breakfast Chelito and I were out the door. She took today to show me around the city a bit. She showed me the market. She said in this new worlds this is one of the few things that stayed the same. As soon as we walked through it, it brought memories of my abuelita and San Mateo back.

 

“You ready mija?” she said as we left the market on our way to get my droids

 

“Estoy nerviosa” I said putting my head down a bit embarrassed.

 

Just as I said this Chelito lifted up the sleeves of her shirt. Only to show me her droids. I was so dumb that I didn’t notice she wore long sleeve shirt even when it was as hot as could be outside.

 

“No lo estes, no duelen. And it’s worth it.” She said bringing my fingers to rub them.

 

They were little square cubes installed into her skin. They were cold like nothing I expected. But they didn’t look like I saw Juan Carlos had. Hers were turned off. They didn’t have that blue flashing light indicating they were ready to be used.

 

“A couple years ago I turned them off, I wanted to get them removed but that was impossible, once you have them installed its no going back, the most you can do is turn them off” she said as we approached a blue house on the corner of the market.

 

As soon as we walked in two other young girls were walking out bandages wrapped all over their arms and back. They looked like they were in pain. I was too observed in the pain in the eyes of the girls that it took me a while to realize that Juan Carlos was in front of me. His green eyes gazing at me just like they had on the bus. It took me a while to figure it out but eventually I found out this was his “side job”. He installed droids and turned them off.

 

“Just breath.” he said as I sat down in the chair. He knew I was nervous and the fact that he kept smiling at me wasn’t making it any better.

 

He began by cleaning my arms with a blue liquid substance. The feeling of his hand moving up and down my hand send shivers through my back, and surprisingly made me feel calm and at ease. Before he continued he asked me to go in the back and change into one of the robes so he could do the ones on my back and shoulders. As I went into a little room all the way in the back I could hear Chelito talking to him. Her laugh filling the hallways with peace and tranquility. While changing I tried to imagine why she had turned off her droids and why she got them in the first place. She hadn’t really told me much.

 

“Are you ready Melina” He said interrupting my thoughts and making me smile like a young teenage girl just because he said my name.

 

I hurried down the hallway. All I wanted was to get this over with and not feel any pain. As soon as  I came back he applied the same liquid to my back and then started prepping the droids with what seemed a oversized toy gun. He took each droid out of a little box under his worktable. Just looking at him prep everything made me nervous. Then suddenly I felt Chelito’s hand rubbing and massaging my back. This made me feel a little more at ease.

 

As soon as I he set up the first droid and made sure everything was ready he carefully massaged above my wrist put the gun to it and pulled the trigger. The pain sent little waves of electricity up and down my arm. Tiny little shocks but enough for it to hurt and make me cringe and close my eyes in agony. Just as I was recovering from the pain I felt the same pain this time on my other hand sending tiny waves of pain up and down it.

 

“Lina? Are you okay? The ones on the back hurt a bit more so just hold my leg and squeeze it.” He said with such reassurance in his voice that I had to believe him.

 

I felt his fingers making little circles on my back until he found the spot and grabbed the gun again. By this time you would expect me to not even feel pain, but of course he didn’t lie. The first one he injected in my back hurt and they hurt bad. I could feel my body wanting to give up this time the little shocks were stronger then the ones on my arm. These little shocks caused me too squeeze his leg until he no longer had any circulation in it. Just as I was relaxing from the pain there it went again the cold feeling of the gun touching my skin and sending chills down my spine. Before I knew it the pain was back. It was running up and down my back each time making me cringe at each little sting.  Once my was able to move again he started cleaning it and putting bandages on all four of them so they could heal.

 

“Fuiste muy fuerte Lina, ni una lagrima” he said making me feel proud of myself for being able to go through with this without one tear falling down my face.

 

I was finally able to look up and see that he was there in front of me standing looking at me with pity. Looking upset but I didn’t even know why. Just as we smiled at each other I felt Chelitos hand rub my back

 

“You’re very valiente Mija”

 

It took me a while to finally get use to the idea that I had droids I had them now and would have them forever.

 

Chapter 5 --> Meeting The Family

 

            While walking back home I contemplated everything I had done during the past few days. Moving to the city, Trusting someone besides grandma, and getting my droids. I couldn’t believe it all. Never in a million years had I thought about it all before.

 

            That afternoon after helping out Chelito with dinner she walked me to the outskirts of the city where the factories were located. When we arrived there I couldn’t believe my eyes. The factory or should I say factories were huge. They were several stories high and had entrances all over the place. When we first walked in it seemed that Chelito knew exactly where to ask for help and where to get it. After walking up and down what seemed the same hallway over and over we finally came to a little office where she told me to wait for her. She stood there until a man came and hugged her. It seemed like he knew her. They started talking for what seemed like forever until he called me in. He simply asked for my name and age and gave a a set of papers to fill out.

Both me and Chelito walked out the office to fill them out.

 

“Chelito, Do you know him?”

“Mas o menos ” she said sounding empty not like her normal self anymore.

 

“El es mi hermano. A long time ago when this world started developing so did our ideas. We were always curious and me and him love inventing things. When a experiment went wrong we discovered droids. We made one my accident. He left them alone but I didn’t. Without him knowing I kept testing them and their possibilities. When I had a set of four finalized and my ideas ready to present them. He said we should do more tests and make more. Without me realizing he stole my ideas and proposals and presented them without me. I thought I knew him and I thought we would make it big together.”

 

“I’m sorry, perdon Chelito”

 

“No worries mija, everything happens for a reason right?”

 

I didn’t even know what to say all I could do was hug her like she had earlier that day. I could tell she felt betrayed. I didn’t even know how to comfort her.

 

“No te preocupes Lina, I made it to you know. I married Julio and Im doing what I always saw myself doing. Being a housewife. Having a hard working husband and having him come home to a nice home cooked meal and allowing other people to have a second family. Helping people like you. With no one in this world”

 

I could tell she meant it cause she said this with so much life in her voice. She was proud of what she accomplished and she didn’t mind what happened in the past. She became my role model. Just like she had done I would leave everything behind in San Mateo and leave it all there. I would start over in Tijuana even if it took me long. I would be strong just like Chelito.

 

Just as I was about to start filling out the papers Chelitos brother came out.

 

“You’re twenty-two right?”

 

“Yes Sir.” I said automatically answering his question

 

“Good come with me” he said leading me into his office, Chelito following after me not leaving my side.

 

“We have an opening as a Nanny, the job isn’t hard. But it does require patience.”

 

“I have a lot of it sir, I promise” I re assured him, I really needed this job and I didn’t mind sounding needy for once. 

 

“Esta Bien, Mañana te quiero aqui en mi oficina a las 9 de la mañana en punto.” He said with a stern look in his face.

 

He was nothing like Chelito unlike her he didn’t smile or bring me comfort. He was much less social then her. Looking at him and at Chelito I didn’t see where they could be related. But of course I didn’t argue that he had given me a job without me doing anything and I was thankful for that. I would finally be able to stand on my own two feet. I would be able to start all over again.

 

Chapter 6 --> La Nueva Vida

 

            The next day everything went well. The connecting part was something so different and it felt weird to know that I was here but I was there also. As soon as I go there Chelitos Brother Mario took me to the Nanny department. It was filled with rows and rows of connecting machines each of them with someone different standing there, connected to what seemed nothing but cables. They moved but not like a normal human being. They moved slower they movements weren’t drastic.

 

            As soon as I connected my self I realize why. It wasn’t hard to connect to the Robo nanny. The movements were simple but what wasn’t was looking at the little girls I watched play with me but not know me or know them more in depth. I didn’t really talk to them and that was weird. But I didn’t need them I had enough people in my life to hold me up.

 

For starters Juan Carlos and I had come to known each other and I had never felt like this for anybody. The fact that he cared so much for me and showed me and made me happy allowed me to let him enter my life. Not only that but after a while I moved in with him

 

            But of course I never stopped going to Chelitos house. I enjoyed spending time with her learning about her more and more. Having her by my side filled the void loosing my mom and grandmother had left. She was always there. Especially when it came to Juan Carlos.

 

“Mija only you can choose who and what makes you happy. So if Juan Carlos makes you happy go for it, just let him know that if he does anything for you. He needs to count his blessings cause he’s going to hear it from me and Julio.” She said laughing.

 

I loved her and Don Julio. They both along with Juan Carlos were my family and they were my support system. The day I came to Tijuana I remember thinking I was all alone. That was my biggest fear to be alone and not to be able to rely on anyone but myself. I was wrong and Im glad I was because I found the perfect new beginning.

​

Chapter 1 --> A New Life

            Even though I’ve wanted this since I was thirteen, the fact that I was finally traveling to the city without my grandma by my side was what was really killing me on the inside. Even after all those times I tried to convince her to move to Tijuana and leave behind the past she refused to. Standing there finally being able to see the bus getting closer to my stop I remember the words she said every time I even brought up anything to do with the city.

 

“Mija, This little bit of land holds not only my past and present but hopefully my future if I can get them to give me like they use to back in the day, and you don’t have to stay but I sure ain’t leaving”

 

            She always said that. No matter how hard I tried to get her to leave and move to the city with me she never listened. She never gave up on her land, even though anything barely grew on that. I myself didn’t have the heart to leave my grandma alone; after all she had done for me after my parents died. I don’t think I could ever re pay her, nor thank her for it all by leaving her all alone.

 

            But of course everything always doesn’t go as plan. Just two weeks ago I was helping her carry water to water all her plants and now Im on my way to the city without her, she is staying behind in her land forever, because she’s dead. Even though I thought about staying behind and making my grandmas dream come true I just couldn’t. I knew that my life in San Mateo was over. I had nobody and ever since I was young I hated being lonely. Now that I had no one in this world the only thing to do was move to the city and move on. Start over from scratch. Begin a new life in a new place. All this for my grandma so that she could rest in peace knowing that I was finally following my dreams and holding my own.

 

Chapter 2 --> Piercing Eyes & Droids

            “Muchacha, si vas a subir?” said the bus driver as he interrupted my thoughts about the life I had just left behind.

 

“Yes” I whispered softly too embarrassed to say anything else.

 

            There were a few empty seats in the back and I made my way through the isle, carrying nothing but a simple bag filled with only a couple of changes of clothes and the little bit of money my grandma left behind for me, and of course the rosary she always used to pray with before she went to sleep every night. Just as I started to stare out the window I looked up to see someone get on. But not just anybody. He had a certain look to him that made me feel safe even though he was a complete stranger. As soon as he noticed me staring I could tell he felt awkward and tried to look the other way. I simply starred out the window to pretend nothing had ever happened. But as soon as I was drifting into sleep I felt someone sit next to me. I couldn’t help but open my eyes only to see him there. His presence made me feel something in my stomach and scared me but at the same time made me smile. But before I could turn back to the window he tapped me and said

 

“Hey, I’m Juan Carlos. You?”

 

Even his voice was relaxed. I was too focused on him gorgeous smile that it took me a while to answer but I eventually did.

 

“I I I I’m Melina.” was all I could manage to say after what seemed a lifetime of staring at him.

 

Just when I thought I had made a total fool of myself there it was again that smile of his.

 

“That’s a pretty name. Where you headed to?”

 

I was so mesmerized by his smile that I hadn’t even noticed his eyes. Just as I was looking up to not seem rude there they were staring at me. Not just staring but more like gazing at me. His eyes were gorgeous they were like no other. They were full with energy and comfort. They were a shade of green that only made it harder not to stare at them.

 

“Tijuana” I said my voice sounding a bit more like me but still a little shyness behind it.

 

“Really? That’s where I live,” he said with a warm smile and his eyes still gazing into mine.

 

This little small talk kept going until we arrived in Tijuana a few hours later. I was dreading getting off the bus and letting go of this beautiful human being. While on the bus I learned a lot about him. He was an inspiring writer. He had moved to Tijuana from his hometown when his parents kicked him out for getting droids installed. This was what intrigued me the most. He had droids. I saw many ads for them whenever I went into town. Even though I grandma always said those things would ruin me I always dreamed of getting them installed not only cause I knew everyone had them but because I knew that’s how everyone made the most money. By working at the Droid factories. By connecting themselves to monitors and sensors to be able to control robots and human machines in the United States. He taught me more about them. Through him I found out that’s how he wrote. He wrote memories and sold them online to be able to survive, he also had a side job as he called it but he didn’t talk much about that. I also learned you could connect to people. This was the main reason why his parents kicked him out. They thought he would turn into a sex addict because of the droids, according to them that’s all you could do with droids.

           

He only got me more interested in the droids. That’s what I didn’t think about while moving to Tijuana, where would I work? From what he told me if I got droids the droid factory wouldn’t think twice about hiring me. Especially since I was young. I could work much faster then the older workers. He also told me where I could find a place to live. He was so nice to me and once it was time to get of the bus and venture out on my own all the comfort and peace I felt with him was gone.

 

Chapter 3 --> The Real City

 

            As soon as I got off the bus all Juan Carlos told me to do was go down la quinta avenida. Walking down it I felt like I was in a total different world. There was a Robocop standing at every corner. There were sky scrappers everywhere. Every street was full of life. Even though it was close to midnight people were still out and about enjoying all the fun the city had to offer.

           

            What I noticed the most was young teenage girls standing in corners flaunting their droids. They kept making sensual expressions at the older men that were walking by. After watching one of the girls finally get pulled aside by one of the guys and her get in the car I realized what they were. They were droidatudes. These were girls who only got droids to be able to connect with people and have sex of course creating the bad name for the droids. I tried to think of what would happen to that young girl as soon as she got in the car but the thoughts of that made me cringe. This wasn’t just a new city, this was an entire new world.

 

 

Before I noticed though I had left the city and was wondering around what seemed nothing until I noticed a house at the end of the block with people outside having a conversation drinking and enjoying the night. It took me a while to walk up and ask for Chelito like Juan Carlos told me to. According to him she was a really nice lady. She had helped him when he first got to Tijuana and he was sure she would do the same for me.

 

“Esta Doña Chelito?” I asked the four men standing around

 

“Si, Honey! Algiuen is looking for you” said the man with beer in his hand and the cigarette in the other.

 

I simply smiled and waited for her to come outside. Chelito came out wearing an apron and wiping her hands on it. Her hair up on a bun to show of her bone structure. My first reaction was to admire her beauty she had a certain in her the reminded me of my abuelita. She had a welcoming smile.

 

“En que te puedo ayudar muchacha” she said with her smile flashing and blinding me.

 

“Juan Carlos dijo que usted me ayudaria” I said in a calm voice.

 

“Ah si! Of course mija” she said smiling like she had known I was already coming

 

She told the other guys to get out of the way and let me through so I could get settled in. They did as they were told and simply smiled at me. As soon as I walked into the house I could smelled the food. Chelito wasn’t only beautiful and kind and caring but she was a great cook I could smell every spice she had ever used and didn’t want the smells to ever leave.

 

“Are you hungry mija?” she said as we walked up the steps to find what would be my room.

 

“Un poco” I said trying to not sound too desperate for some of her food.

 

Just as I said this we arrived at the end of the hall. She pulled her keys out and opened the room to a small but very pretty and well-decorated room. The walls were painted a gorgeous lavender color. Everything in the room was lavender and white. It smelled like it to. It had a HD Broadcaster. Nothing like the old TV I had back at home. She smiled at how amazed I was. She could tell I wasn’t from the city.

 

“Y que te trajo a Tijuana?” She said walking over to what seemed a window pressed a few buttons and turned back around.

 

Just as she did this, a breeze came through the machine and cooled me off. I was to mesmerized that I hadn’t noticed that I was sweating and somehow the machine allowed me to cool down.

 

“A veces cosas pasan y se necesita un cambio” I said as I put my bag down on the bed.

 

“A claro, pues bienvenida. Acomoda tus cosas y baja a la cosina para que cenes” she said with a smile on her face. A smile that let me know she understood me.

 

Even though it took me a while to realize what was going on and where I was I had to realize that this was my home now. I couldn’t go back to San Mateo. I didn’t have anyone there and I had to get use to the idea that I only had myself in this world.

 

Chapter 4 --> My Droids & The Truth

 

            As soon as I woke up the next morning I could smell the spices again roaming through the house and reaching my room all the way upstairs. It took me a while to realize where I was at but when I did. I went to the bathroom brushed my teeth and got in the shower. Last night while eating dinner with Chelita she told me she would take me to get my droids and that I could pay her later. Not only did this mean I could start working but I had found someone to rely on. Chelito and her husband Don Julio were now my family. They said it themselves last night. Anyone that comes through this house is familia! They also told me they would let me slide with the rent for the room until I got use to working at the factories. All this seemed so surreal. As I was getting dressed I heard Chelito call me down to breakfast so we could go down to get my droids installed.

 

Cyndi Lynn Sheridan

English 3 – Rami

January 11, 2012

 

Story: Bender, Brains of a Genius

 

I was never the popular type. I struggled making friends, and I always felt like a disappointment to my family. I was faced with challenges that made me stronger in faith and dignity. I had natural talent, and never realized this until the day I joined the San Francisco Defense Academy. This was the only place I knew to call home.

It all started when I was ten years old, and understood that the only reason I was born was to save my older brother Adam’s life. He was diagnosed with leukemia at the age of three, and my parents decided to try and conceive a child that was purposely born to save his life. Through genetic engineering, that child was me. I hated Adam for ruining my life. Ruining the relationship I had with my parents. I was slowing drifting away, into a place of emotional destruction. Once I finally began to accept the fact that my parents loved him more than me, my mother and father had another child. Everyone thought that after my baby sister was born, we would all be one perfect family again, but little did they know that never happened. In fact, perfect in my eyes will never exist. The only thing I was left looking forward to, was possibly the battlefield.

 

After coming home from a long day of school, I saw a message on the answer machine reading “One missed call from San Francisco Defense Academy: (415)-243-0988.” They left a call back telephone number, and I could not stop thinking about the reason behind them calling. Was I finally accepted into this academy or did I do something wrong? Assuming things always hurts. I get my hopes up just to be let down and crushed in spirit. As I sat on my living room floor contemplating my existence along with what I wanted to be in life, I felt a single tear fall from my eyes. “What is my point in life? Will I ever really make my parents proud, or am I just someone they use to benefit from?” There’s not a single day that I don’t ask myself these questions. When my parents came home from work, I lied there with a knife in my hand, only trying to prove a point. They didn’t seem to be that much concerned with what was going on. Why I was lying on the floor with a knife? The never asked if I hurt myself, but that’s what was expected. These were the reasons why I no longer wanted to live in this hellhole, and really why I decided to relocate to somewhere far away.

 

“Bender, get up! Do you have any idea where your brother’s at?” My father immediately asked. I already knew that these would be the first words out of his mouth.

 

“I don’t know sir, why don’t you call him? That would be the logical thing to do, don’t you think?” I said in fury.

 

“You better not get smart with me boy, you’d have another thing coming! Also, I came home on my lunch break, and noticed that the SFDA had called for you. I decided to call them back just to see what they wanted. They are interested in having you attend the academy, the one you’ve always been interested in. In my opinion, I don’t think it’s the best idea.”

 

“WHAT? NO! Why not? Dad you know this is one of my dreams. It can’t always be about Adam, and you know it!” I quickly responded.

 

“Bender, now listen…”

 

“Stop! I don’t want to hear it anymore. It’s always about him. Adam this, Adam that. Dad, I’m sick and tired of feeling this way. Feeling like I have no purpose to live anymore besides for Adam. I know that sounds rude, but I can’t take it anymore sir. Just leave me alone; you’ll never truly understand my emotions inside. I really hate you and mom, but most importantly I hate Adam.”

 

No sooner those three crucial but honest words left my mouth, I ran upstairs, locked my bedroom door, and never left my bed for a full week. I wasn’t able to see their faces. That Monday, I heard a knock on my door. I knew it was my dad because he was constantly trying to get in contact with me ever since I isolated myself from society. Being in my room helped me gather my feelings, and improve myself for the better. At least I hoped. From this I agreed to open my door, but shockingly it wasn’t my dad.

 

“Hello Bender, don’t be frightened. My name is General Chase Ford. I will be your head captain at San Francisco Defense Academy. Get dressed and pack your bags. Be downstairs in exactly 30 minutes. No later!”

 

Before I could even respond, he disappeared simultaneously. After packing my whole wardrobe, I turned around to head out my door, but instantly General Chase was standing there in front of it. He explained to me that there would be no goodbyes, no tears, and no freedom. I had no choices, and there were rules for everything. The only thing I would do at this academy was fight. Fight all the pain away I have been suffering from. After I agreed to everything the General stated, the next moment we were standing on the battlefield. I was already dressed in army gear prepared for my first mission.

 

I stood there facing a boy with red hair and blue eyes. His name was Ryan, and it was his third year here at the SFDA. I thought I had no chance at beating him, but with hope and power, I did. It was a brutal fight but it was well worth it. This mission showed the other boys who I was and what I can provide this academy with. My fellow acquaintances were quickly to label me as Bender, the Brains. I never doubted my intelligence, but I did doubt some of the friendships I had with the kids around me.

 

Ever since I ranked up to third prestige, I have been doing things I’ve never imagined. Everything has been going great the past 3 months. I am happy with life right now, and none of this would have been possible without the help of General Chase Ford. I was approaching the day I faced the toughest soldier here at the academy, and this would define my fate. I went in the combat zone with a firm attitude and strong willpower. The task was to driver your automobile 21000 meters at a speed of 70 m/s, then complete a puzzle involving robots and their operations, and the final step was to set the path your enemy on fire using your robot. I was already off to a bad start when the engine of my car was not working properly. This put me 2 seconds behind my opponent. Once I fixed my car, I breezed through the other parts of the obstacle. The final task seemed the most frustrating and tense. I thought it would be the easiest, but operating the robot was quite difficult since I had to determine where the switch was to shatter my enemy. It came down to the last few seconds when the anxiety within me reached its maximum level. I pressed the button on the wall, and there I was. Flames and screams that resembled my achievement. The next few days were pretty lax; everyone either envied me or were frightened of the consequences they would face if they offended me in any way. This made the boys keep their distance. This feeling of authority and power left me once I heard General Chase said, “Bender, we have to talk. Something serious happened.” Right then I knew my life would be changed forever.

 

“Bender, we just got the news from your parents that Adam is severely sick and is on his death bed. Your parents claimed that the only way for him to live is if you give him a bone marrow. They want you home. Your brother Adam is expected to only have one more day to live. Your family would really appreciate it if you were at least home spending time with them for the last day at the least.”

 

“Sir, I just can’t go home. That’s my past, the old me. This place here, this is my home. I would never have been who I am today without the SFDA. Going back home would only remind me of how things used to be. How I felt each day, and the terrifying memories that haunted me. I just don’t think I can handle going back home.” I couldn’t control myself any longer. I broke down in tears right in front of General Chase. This was such a disgrace.

 

“Bender, do it for me. Just go home! Your family needs you. The least you can do is think about it. Please?” General Chase said.

 

I had nothing else to say. I stood there facing fear right in the eye. One road was leading to my family back home, and the other bringing me back to my room at the Academy. Lets just put it this way, I took the road less traveled by, and it was the worst decision of my life. It haunted me. It made me regret every choice I’ve ever made, and led me to a place now where I feel nothing. I have no soul, no family, nothing at all.

 

 

 

 

            In the hills of Manchester lied the symbol of the Royal Government, the headquarters of the Queen, and the birth home of many of the elder HRH’s: Holygrove Palace. It stands in splendor, amongst the other buildings of the government, but much grander. The palace sat in a square, designed for the public, complete with fountains, statues, and Her Majesty’s Gardens. Great, wide steps lead a visitor to the front of the palace, where the gates denied them a chance to get too close, but also gave them an opportunity to see the splendor of Holygrove, adorned with regal brilliance of a royal line dating back centuries. Palace guards, there more as symbolism than protection, lined perfectly against the perimeter, standing in their summer outfits opposed to the usual, as despite this being a day in late October, it was sunny and mild in weather, favoring toward the warm. In the palace, Her Majesty the Queen was adhering to official Royal protocol swiftly attended to and aided by her assistants and aides. Her husband, the Duke of Ely sat in one of the many drawing rooms of the palace, quietly reading the newspaper. Amongst the nation was the issue of the couple; three royals, two princes and a princess, all with the intent of service on the behalf of Her Majesty. Of these issue, many bore their own line of issue, creating branches of the family tree known collectively as the Royal Family. The grandeur and lavish the Royals faced was that of imagination to the common man. They were treated with respect and dignity that many could only dream.

 

            Her Majesty the Queen, the head of the Royal Government, is briskly walking through the palace hallways. The Royals were holding one of their annual fall garden parties today, and it requires immense planning and preparation to allow for it to be swift and successful. An attentive ruler she is; Her Majesty felt it to be her duty to watch over all events of her realm, especially ones of importance, such as these.

“I’m not quite sure if these should be here. It would give obstructed access to the Grand Staircase,” the Queen said, her accent clear and her wisdom evident.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” her assistant, Roger Barnes.

“I just feel it would be more at place here, as all.”

 “Of course, ma’am” said Barnes, who quickly called an usher to side to tell him the new arrangement, which was changed with haste.

The garden parties were important to the Queen, it gave her a chance to mingle with the “commoners”, her ever-faithful subjects, many of which born under her long tenure as Queen. Yet, it also serves a purpose to the family, separated by all of their official duties as Royals, who now see each other less often than they used to. The parties are their duties, and so all attend the event.

 

            It was now 12 o’clock; the party began a 1 PM sharp. The ushers and organizers swiveled through Holygrove Garden, placing the final touches to make it to perfection. There are always the guests who arrive too early, and now there were a great amount of people outside of the gates of Holygrove, waiting for their entry into the most prestigious party imaginable. If the staff found that they were complete, then they would allow for the guests to enter ahead of schedule, which would allow for ease of the entire evening. Suddenly, from the road’s horizon, clearly visible from the slight plateau that Holygrove Palace was located on, a black car could be spotted, donning the official Royal seals. Behind the initial car, followed another, and one more, a total of five cars in all, the third, middle car was the largest, it was a limousine to be exact, and in addition to the seals, it had the two flags at its hood, one the Royal Coat of Arms, and the other the nation’s flag. This was evidently the motorcade of a Royal, and this was confirmed when Palace guards opened the gates for the vehicles, which briskly enter the open courts of the Palace’s interior. Once inside the gates, the formation was broken, so that now only that one, largest car headed toward the Palace inner-gates, and into a tunnel, which included a door that lead to hallways and corridors that made up sections of the Main House. The tunnel was added to give the Royals protection and privacy when they enter the home, which at times, and especially depending on the Royal, was quite essential. Yet today, there was no concern of the prying eyes of the public, as the only spectators didn’t watch with the intentions of intrusion but instead of awe of who was inside the car. The Royal’s identity was kept a secret until the car reached inside the tunnel, where the Queen’s eldest stepped outside, with no fear of the public spotting his presence.

 

            HRH Prince Alexander, the Crown Prince was his official title, the “Crown Prince” section was actually a privilege, and tradition states this title is reserved for the eldest son of the Sovereign. A fairly young man he was, in his forties yet still very handsome and young-looking for his age, and quite tall and with a nice build, the Crown Prince stood there, only a few feet or so from where he exited his state car, yet towards both his left and right we’re guards and Secret Service agents for his protection, the guards in their usual outfits while the agents dressed in their standard, black suit and tie combinations. The Prince’s suit was black as well, yet one could see the faint pinstripes in a certain light, and one could also see well the suit fit his body, how it was cut and tailored in its appropriate places. He stood there, as if to allow all the marvel in his splendorous presence, then he gave a few, Royal waves to the adoring public, watching his every move. After doing this, guards guided him to the tunnel door, and he entered to the sight of Barnes, who received word of the Prince’s planned arrival at this time the previous day.

“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness. It appears you arrived on time,” said Barnes.

“Of course, I did. Is Her Majesty available?” said Prince Alexander, terse and sharp.

“Why, yes, of course” answered Barnes, with a few stutters prior.

The Royal Assistant led the Heir to the Royal Throne through the hallways of the Palace until he reached the study, where the Queen, his mother, was currently working in one of Holygrove’s many drawing rooms.

With a quick stand, the Queen stated, “Alexander! It’s been too long, it has.”

“Yes, Mother,” said the Prince, who greeted his mother properly with a steady bow from the neck, “it has been quite some time.”

A attendant in the room pours a cup of tea for the Prince, who takes a seat across from the Sovereign.

 I’d say about a few months or so, yet I believe that the Royal duties of the Heir to the Throne would suffice of being the reason of our absence from each other.”

“Of course, of course. Your responsibilities are far greater than those of your siblings, and also are more imperative, as they will teach you how to become a proper monarch.”

“Yes, they will. So all is well?” Alexander quipped.

The Queen dashes a familiar, mothering look, and then said, “Yes, all is fine here.”

There was a silence after that. The Prince’s face smirked of hesitance, and the Queen could clearly see it, and pondered at its presence. The Prince instead sat on one of the chairs in the study and gently clasped his hands together in the proper manner. With that, Her Majesty sat at the desk and continued the final revisions. At last, after she sat, the Prince finally gained the courage to speak.

The Prince gulped, and with his voice faintly cracking, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I arrived so early. To be honest, I chose to arrive earlier than the others would.”

“And by ‘the others’, I’m sure you truly meant Jacob?” said the Queen, sure of her response.

“Why, yes. Jacob, my son, your youngest grandson, and third in line to the Royal Throne. And from the lack of television cameras or photographers outside, I’m assuming he hasn’t arrived yet?” The sarcasm was evident with this Royal father, speaking of his son, a media deity and target.

“Why, no, not yet,” said the Queen, equally sarcastic in her voice as well.

 

            HRH Prince Jacob of Wales is the younger of two boys of Prince Alexander, and his lineage to the Heir of the Throne has him at third in the Line of Succession. He was the Queen’s grandson, and his looks, as well as his persona caused for much public and media attraction, and at times scrutiny. Though the likelihood of Prince Jacob becoming King was very small, in order to do that, he would have to survive the reigns of his father and his older brother, HRH Prince Andrew of Wales, yet his public appeal was unprecedented, yet at times his behavior was despised by his family.

 

            Nevertheless, Prince Jacob was a member of the family, and was treated as such. The Queen and Prince Alexander continued their conversation; the opinions clear in their speech. As they talked, their solidarity in their perspectives of Prince Jacob’s celebrity status was prevalent.  The speeches of the elder Royals ceased, however, when Prince Andrew arrived in the room.

            His Royal Highness Prince Andrew of Wales was Prince Jacob’s elder brother, and the two were very close. The straight-laced future heir to the throne was very in tune to his brother’s sense of fun and freedom, as he would never have to endure the responsibility of the Crown, and often defended his brother’s behavior and conduct.

“Father, grand mum” the Prince greeted his elders.

“Andrew, how are you, darling”, the Queen uttered in clear delight, as Andrew walked across the room to greet his grandmother in the customary fashion.

Prince Andrew swiftly pours himself tea as he takes a seat next to his father and across his grandmother.

“I believe that today will call for a very pleasant party,” stated Andrew cheerfully.

“As do I,” his father chimed in with delight.

The young prince sat with his elders.

“You know, I was talking to a man in crowd the other day during some of my military training and above all else he couldn’t stop talking about what the monarchy meant to him. It really makes this all seem worth while.”

“So before, did it seem like a waste of time?” Prince Alexander joked.

“No, father”, Prince Andrew chuckled, “However now, I think I see what the monarchy truly does to the morals of this country”.

“I see that the Crown will rest safely on your shoulders, Andrew,” the Queen stated.

“Thank you, grand mum,” Andrew concluded as he placed his finished cup of tea on the coffee table. He rose to leave.

“I’m sure everything will go exactly as planned today; it’ll be great. I’ll be off now.”

The second in line to the throne proceeds to exit, but stops at the door.

“Has Jacob arrived yet? I’d like to practice some polo with him before the game today.”

“I suppose you would know where he was more than we would,” the Queen stated sharply.

“I haven’t the slightest clue. Father, do you know?”

“No, I have not,” stated the Crown Prince.

“Predictable, I suppose. Your brother does have a reputation for such behavior.”

The Prince was very willing to defend his brother, as he often does, but didn’t. He was wise enough to know not to argue not only with the Queen, the Sovereign, but his grandmother. Instead, he said his good-byes and went off his way.

Prince Andrew was very popular not only amongst the public, but with many of the palace workers and government official as well. To them, the Prince represented the new monarchy, with his younger, looser approach to certain aspects of duty. His blend of dedication to duty as well as ability to modernize had many very optimistic as his future as King. This unique method of duty was evident on the day, as the Prince spoke with many of the staffers of the Garden Party, giving his input and sharing his suggestions when needed. Soon after, other members of the family arrived.

Prince Benjamin, the Duke of York, Andrew’s uncle, arrived first, with his children, Their Royal Highnesses Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, and Prince Robert. The Duchess of York completed the set of the family. Another one of Prince Andrew’s strong suits is his indomitable ability to socialize. Within minutes of greeting his cousins, a polo game was already in the works, between the two young princesses and the Princes Andrew and Jacob; even if he hadn’t arrived yet. Prince Andrew soon became a bit concerned; he had enough faith in his brother to believe that he wouldn’t arrive late, and he did know that he had a Royal engagement earlier today, but feared for the worst, as he usually did. The Prince had no more to fear, however, as His Royal Highness Prince Jacob arrived.

Prince Jacob had no flashy entrance, as he knew such a thing would be frowned upon. In fact, his arrival was less ostentatious than many of the other members of the family earlier. His exit from the car, and subsequent entrance to the palace, however, was conducted much differently than all previous Royals, as it was a very rushed ordeal; both the Prince and the guards knew that absolute media frenzy would ensue should a photographer spot the popular Prince. When Prince Jacob arrived at the Palace, there was a different aura than that of his brother. With Prince Jacob, it almost felt as if one was in the presence of a celebrity instead of royalty. There have been many occasions when one forgot to greet Prince Jacob with the customary bow upon meeting him. However, as a member of the Royal Family, he was treated with the respect due.

The Prince was lead through the halls by Palace guards, in the search for his older brother. He and his brother’s close relationship was highly evident at social events, as one could often see the two sticking together. After a while, the Prince spotted Andrew outside, with their cousins and greeted him with a hug, a break in formality.

“The traffic was dreadful today,” the Prince said, excusing his nearby tardiness.

“So, are we in accordance?”

Chief Inquisitorial Detective Marrows stood before a line of firemen, all solemnly standing with their arms folded in a way that could easily insinuate anger, distrust, or protest.

“Lieutenant Michaels, I require an answer, “ Detective Marrows stated impatiently. “Now.”

A rather gruff man stepped forward and uneasily glanced around the firehouse for a moment, his pupils constricted as he saw the police squad standing just outside.

“I’m afraid I can’t make that decision without a captain present,” he responded nervously.

“Well, Unfortunately, your captain is dead,” Marrows sneered. “but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

The whole team of firemen shifted posture as the obvious tension in the room rose to the tipping point.

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Michaels responded. “Chief Detective.”

“Frankly, that doesn’t matter to me.” Marrows stated bluntly. “What matters to me, is the assurance that your squad will report the fire that burned down the CAGT building as an accident.”

“But there is obvious evidence that the fire was ignited by an arsonist,” Michaels said. “you wouldn’t need to be an expert to see that.”

Lieutenant Michaels looked at Detective Marrows with an apprehensive stare. They both knew it wasn’t an accident that a whole team of prominent CAGT protesters perished in the fire. A whole team including the Lieutenant’s mentor, Captain Nichols.

“I don’t care if God himself came down and told the whole city that the fire wasn’t an accident,” Marrows stated impatiently. “it is required that your team reports the fire as such. This is a matter of national security.”

Michaels sneered. “So, protecting national security to you is murdering civilians in order to keep your party members in office?”

The firemen standing behind the lieutenant exchanged glances of discomfort.

Marrows Paused before answering.

“I suggest you watch your tongue, Michaels.” he said. “I would hate to have to dispatch a team of Collectors to retrieve you and your family for processing”

The Chief Detective’s threat resonated throughout the whole firehouse. The line of firemen shifted angrily.

“How dare you threaten my family!” Lieutenant Michaels shouted. “You have no right!”

“Actually,” Marrows responded. “I do.”

A fire ignited in the Lieutenant’s eyes. He lunged for the Chief Detective, his face distorted in anger. A single fat vein protruded from his neck. Alas, his attack was too slow for the detective, who produced a handgun within milliseconds. The previously quiet firehouse echoed with the discharge of Marrow’s retaliation. Blood splattered every surface in front of the detective as Michaels’ corpse fell to the ground with a pathetic thud.

The remaining firemen were scattered across the firehouse floor, streaks of crimson blood stained their yellow uniforms. Before they could regain their composures and attempt to retaliate, squads of police officers and Collectors stormed the firehouse, disarming and retaining all the firemen. They were marched outside and thrown against the steel door of the firehouse. One by one they turned to face their captors, squinting from the intense sunlight.

“Well,” Detective Marrows started. "What are you waiting for? Death by firing squad effective immediately."

The detective disappeared amongst his government personnel. Shortly after, a crescendo of bullets resonated throughout the empty streets surrounding the firehouse.

Alex let go of everything that had once held him back and let his hands fly. Smack! In an instance one was down and his mind went racing. He couldn’t believe he had killed the um well he didn’t know what it was. His mind raced to find an answer it wasn’t a human not anymore; at some point it had pushed past the ability to be called human. It was now a, a… just then another body raced towards him anger and rage in its eyes. Alex squeak in the pure fear and confusion that had took hold of him. He yanked the ax free of the head of his last victim tears ran down its face as he swung it again. It was only 13 he had once called his neighbor, his friend, Tom. But it wasn’t Tom anymore now it was just another freak like all the other freaks he had seen since he had open his eyes this morning. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t tom but every thing inside him burn with the desire to take back the blow that had stopped the boys charge. Alex was 14 the biggest worry he had before this was whether he’d pass algebra this quarter or not. He heard a screech from the house next store his heart raced as he glanced at the clock on the wall, 3:30. It was 3:30 eight hours ago his day had started with his mother standing in the door, not to say good morning but to rip his neck off. He knew that the house next store did not hold his family the people that he loved but a load of the freaks that had 4 ago had tried to end his life. Another scream shattered the thought.

            Alex ran outside and found the source of the screaming. Two girls were cornered by a load of the freaks. Everything inside of him told him to run to leave them and run for his own life. But the thought of this new world scared him more then the freaks on that lawn. Alex did not know what lay beyond this block. Whether there were more or if everyone else didn’t know what was happening. Either way he knew he couldn’t leave these girls these, people. Alex saw a boy running by, Mark Coleman a juniors at his school. “Mark stop!” Alex was able to pull the words from his gut. “Grab that bat! Help me.” Alex chocked as he took off in a sprint towards the girls. He had no way of knowing if the boy followed but he did know he would be able to take on the freaks alone. There were three of them once full grown men. As he grew near the junior joined his side looking almost as scared as Alex did.

            “What’s the plan kid?” Mark shocked Alex the human interaction seemed wrong to him after the day that had. The only people that had try to interact with him today try to bite his neck off. “Well I was, um.” Alex dug threw his mind for an answer. “Oh come on kid you have to have to plan you didn’t just call me over to die with you.” Pure panic now leaked from Mark but he nee lost his cool tone. “Yea, I do.” Alex stuttered, Marks words had sparked something in Alex’s brain an answer. Pictures of old video games Alex play ran threw his mind, it was crazy but it just might work. “Go to the right of the freaks ill take the left, you take the heads I’ll take the legs.” “Freaks? I like that, by the way kid what’s yours name, you know just in case it doesn’t’…” “Its Alex and it’ll work.” They swung Mark distracted them so they never saw Alex coming as he took out their legs. The boys took up their weapons and started bashing into the creature that lay on the ground. For a moment the boys were animals drool slid from Alex’s lip veins popped out of Mark’s head. For a moment the two boys had completely left their old sense of reality and entered the new world where they were united not just a freshman nobody and junior sports star that that walk the same hallways, but as teammates, survivors.

            The boys were snapped back by the sudden hugs they received by the girls shaken to the core by the terror of a day they have had. The four took up shelter in a shed trying to avoid the sight of the freaks who chased people down the streets ripping at their skin. Once in the shed they all proceeded to share the events of their morning the girls who Alex learned were seniors from the all girl catholic high school two blocks from his. They were on their track teen and were on their morning run when shit went to hell. Half of the team turned into a swarm of freaks every one left on their team torn apart fell but then got up again and joined in on the madness. They were chasing them, they ran for almost an hour before the whole team broke off and took shelter in Alex’s house probably very shortly after he had abandoned it. But then those freaks them and they lost all strength to run. They had only been able to get outside before they were cornered. They thought it was end. Their names were Jamie and Kara typical names in their boring suburban area. Before today they were probably typical seniors addicted to their go-jo-pro juice and always up for brain links. As mark was sharing his life as a jockey junior who everyone loved even though Alex couldn’t figure out why he thought about what he would say when they got to him. He was just a lame freshman. He wasn’t allowed to drink go-jo-pro because his mom thought is poison even though she had like five a day. He had never ran like the girls or played football like mark. He never linked in to someone’s brain either he just played video games all day and watched TV. The coolest thing he had ever drinking was a sip of wine at a wedding. He was a nobody. Mark finished up the tale of his day one of heart breaking loss with the same cool look he always wears then looked towards Alex. What was Alex gonna say he woke up that morning expecting hugs from mommy and instead almost had his neck torn off. He proceeded to push her off run next store where he was almost murdered. He the killed Mr and Mrs jackson then Tom. He’d found the girls and now he was here in a shed trying to explain himself. He had to make up a better story.

“I was drinking my daily go-jo-pro and I then…” Alex was interrupted Jamie. “ Ew you drink that crap its nasty I never would it’s nasty almost everyone on our team drank it before every run expect me and Jamie that stuff man….” Mark jumped into the end of Kara’s sentence including something about how it would mess up his prefect body or cause cancer or something. Alex didn’t really know he was lost in his own head to confused about what just happened to move forward with marks lecture. He had lied to sound cool but ended up just sound even dumber then he already felt. But under the embarrassment Alex start pasting together facts in his head one his mom drank go-jo-pro every morning before she went to wake him up, the girls who turned drank it before they ran, and tom drank  it all the time cause he thought it made him cooler. This thought only past over his mine for a moment before BANG! A loud nice came from behind the shed followed by screams. The teens dropped to the floor Jamie starting crying. “Shhh” Alex hissed after the first whimper. He edged over to his ax as the sound of footprint made its way closer to the shed. Alex grabbed an ax as a shriek marked the presences of freaks outside. The shriek shock all the teens to the core except Alex whose eyes glowed with determination. He wasn’t going to die inside this shed he wouldn’t let it happen. His thin wall had already been shattered autopilot was off now and he was in charge he rolled towards the door ax in hand. The door slammed open a swarm of zombies looked Alex in the eye he did not blink he raised his ax…. THE END