My Monologue..

Love or Logic.

 

In,

out,

in,

out.

The blood flows in, then out, then in, and out again. It never stops. I’m always here. I support you. I keep you healthy. I keep you...alive!

 

(Silence)

 

So why…when I simply try to help the girl along, do you say no? Why must you constantly say no to my ideas/shoot me down?! She loves him! So when I say go ahead, do what I say, I know what’s right…. must you tell her to “stay strong”!?

Your idea of moving on, is turning the other cheek, simple as that.

It’s not that simple though! You don’t know love! The pain to  “Keep her head up”,  and have every other friend tell her ..:” Well next time it will be better…”, to move on...get over it. It hurts!

 (Screaming with anger)

She doesn’t want to! Can’t you feel her crying those tears every night!

(Speaker get’s quieter, calmer)

I can…They’re for him. She loves him. Let her love him...please?

I’m begging you…I rarely do that. you usually are right, but this is different.

It’s love. I know love, I breathe it, feel it, live it.

(Takes a moment, as if they’re listening to someone, rolls eyes after.)

Okay, so yeah you’re the “mother board” ( actually do the quotes sign here), the big commodity around here, I get that. But maybe you don’t know everything! Maybe I’m right this time. Love is my thing, and it’s clear she’s in love with him. Yes, yes, I hear you, I know he hurt her, but maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’s a better person now. People change all the time. What if he’s the one? And your getting in the way of that, your telling her to walk away. You could be ruining it for her!

 

( stops to listen, as if someone else is talking, then madly replys)

No, Of course I don’t like seeing her get hurt, how could you even say that!

But pain is a part of everything, especially love!

As long as she makes the right decision ….the pain will be worth it.

I think he cares. Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe your right, but look at her, when she hears his name, her eyes light up, even I get excited…

So maybe this one time, I am right, maybe this time she can listen to me, people tell her to listen to her heart, they’re right. So you’re the brain, logic isn’t always right…love isn’t about logic…it’s about so much more than that.

 

Even if I am wrong, it won’t have happened for nothing, because if she doesn’t go after him now, she’ll always wonder. It’s better to know, and not regret what could’ve happened. If she doesn’t learn this lesson with him, she’ll learn it with another guy. That’s what life’s about…It’s the lessons you learn, and not the things you could have done. It’s everything you did.

 

“10 seconds that seemed like 10 years”

“10 seconds that seemed like 10 years”

 

The screams of the audience, the cries of love ones and family. The burning light above shining down on my body. Sweat and blood dripping off my skin. Gloves colliding with muscle and skin. There I am exchanging punches in the ring. All my months of training, all my dedication, all my time devoted to this fight risking my health and my body all being tested to its maximum limit. A minute and half into the 8th round. I can barley lift my arms, my heart racing and my body swollen from the brutality torture in which I put it through. I grew angry and I lost all since of control all sense of deplaned I went back to the streets I swing a vicious left hook and I missed and the other man landing a titanic blow to my right temple sending me to the floor. The right side of my face is just a loud ring like a land mind that went off and exploded an eardrum. My whole face went dumb and im laying there on the ground as everyone stands and my carrier flashes before me as the ref counts. A million and one thoughts ran my through my destroyed mind. Time seemed to stop and I lay there covered in blood, sweat and tears. My perfect carrier 34 victories and 0 defeats. Was this it? Is this the end of my perfect record? My vision blurring and the loud ring still not allowing me to hear accurate. I try to find the ropes to get back out but the ropes seemed to be a thousand miles away. I start to remember my past fights. My father, mother, brother, family, and wife everything hits me. Like being hit with a thousand jabs aiming right for my face. I start to grow angry with my self because I threw everything that I learn away just because I got angry. The voice of my father begins to fill my mind. Everything else just fades away and im in the ring with my dad in the corner. Im shadowing while my father is telling me what to do. My hands are just a blur with my lighting speed. My body just cuts threw the wind as I move and wave back and fourth. My father tells me that it’s not about winning or losing but about giving it your all. That’s when suddenly, my vision came back to me and I can hear the ref screaming 5. Five, five more seconds are left in order for me to get up and im still lying on my stomach. I grab the 3rd rope and I fight to get up but my body is refusing me to. Seven! The refer says as im only on the second rope. The other guy is in his corner laughing and already giving a victory taunt to the crowd as if he won already. “Nine!” And im on my feet grabbing the ref as im telling him im ok and ready to fight again. The ref stops and gives me the “okay” to fight. The other fighter stands in amazement and disbelief that I got back up after the titanic blow. My eyes rage with fire and determination as my father screams in my corner and I hear my mother and wife screaming my name in the crowd. I banged my gloves together and I walk into the middle like a tank ready to run him over. He hits me a few times but I no longer feel pain. Im a beast, a beast ready to kill. I take a lot of hits not trading back. My father screaming to hit back but I know what im doing. I stand there letting him hit me as he laughs. Then, my mind snap and I duck on one of his hook and I come right off the ground with a furious upper cut sending him back and I connect with a right hook sending him to the ropes and I just unleash hell on his body not giving him not even a second to collect his though to see nothing. I gave him hell in less than mille second I want to kill him I want to finish him off until he falls and the ref holds me back and sends me to my corner. I have won, I had came back from near defeat, I have over come my fears I have proven everyone wrong I have won this amazing fight…

The Shark's Spirit

Nicholas A. Doroba

English

Gold Stream

 

Monologue:

 

Water. Salty, blue and wide open. I am king of this place and I do what I want. What’s up dolphin? (Swims other way) Nobody likes me, they fear me, but yet I do not hurt anybody, I just want to be friends. I swim through the waters, close to shore, guarding the little ones and their fun. There are feet dangling from the waist down, children’s feet. I want them, but I do not go in for the attack. Instead, I circle below and warn off any fish that want a taste. I am not a bad fish. I protect the people and instill safety in the waters. I am not your average fish…I am a good shark.

Typically people judge me just because I am a shark, and suddenly everyone is screaming, like I am going to eat their heart. When actually, I guard them. I don’t like other fish that try to hurt humans, especially the little ones. So, I stay. I swim up and down the shoreline in search of endangerment. I hear the water ’s ripples faster than usual, almost as if groups of people all trying to get out of the water at once. I search, and I find. I see…a swarm of shark’s trying to ambush the beach and take as many people as they can. My worst enemies, my old friends…the ones that turned against me when I became devoted to being a good shark.

I swam up with an aggressive movement to try to fear them off, they laugh and ignore me. I never backed down before and I wont back down now. I fear I will probably lose but I know I still have to try my best to protect everyone.  I swim around and go in for a bite of my enemies tail when he whips me in the face and I loose some teeth. Lightheaded, I know I must try harder. As I attack another shark, I watch as another one swallows a child…whole I might add. As I daze off watching what just happened, a boat from the coast guard had pulled up and before I knew it…my life flashed before my eyes. They misjudged me just because I was a shark, and killed me…when really I was helping save the lives of the people on the beach. I now watch as my spirit, my body…afloat to shore and everyone crowds around thinking that I…I was an endangerment, just because I was a shark.

Julian Makarechi Q2

i put some of my favorite artist which are : lil wayne, Drake, Biggie small and Kanye West.
My favorite sport team are: the eagles, sixers and ACMILAN
and i will share some of my favorite quotes and lyrics.Also i will talk about the picture of me in biochem
tech

hello franciscoajeda

¡Saludos desde Filadelfia! 

¡Hola! ¿Soy jian qué tal? Soy mas o menos. Mi cumpleaños es el venti ocho de abril y tengo quince años. Soy de China, pero vivo en Filadelfie por dos años. Me gusta ciencias, videojuegos y escuchar a la música. ¿Qué tipo de musica escucha? No me gusta nada E-mail, la television o de trabajar.
Me gusta mucho los libros de comico, sin embargo mi usar un poquitoMe gusta leer los libros, de cocinar y surfear la red en estar de vago con amigosFiladelfia es una ciudad entre la ciudad de Nueva York y la capital DC. Filadelfie es un ciudad increiblemente bonito. Quiero saber mas de ti, ¿como qué música te gusta escuchar? ¿qué te interesa?
¡Responde cuando puedas! ¡adios!

Con cariño, jian
http://www.visitphilly.com/

Philadelphia_Night-view_2118
Philadelphia_Night-view_2118

HOLA :)

¡Hola! Me llamo Alyssa yo viva en Filadelphia, ¿y tú? Es una ciudad bastante grande. Se conoce como "La ciudad de Amor Fraternal". Hace calor en el verano, hace fresco en el otoño, hace lloviendo en la primavera y hace mucho frío en el invierno. Mi familia es mas ó menos grande. Tengo una hermana se llama Emma y una hermano se llamo John, es muy muy molestóno. ¿Cuanto ay en tú familia? Mi familia es de decendencia europea. Tengo quience años y mi compleaños es el vientiseis de agosto. 

¡Sadie es mi mejor amiga! Los fines de semana me gusta domir también de vez en cuando cocinar. Me gusta platicar con amigas y practico deportes tales como soccer (fútbol). No me gusta nada cantar y leer o sola. ¡Tengo encanta hablar me amigos y amigas! Y como si fuera poca mi habladora y loca y boba y rubia! ¿Qúe te gusta hacer? ¡Yo quiero saber mas sober de ti!

P.S. Añádeme en Facebook (Alyssa Winner) y Twitter (@winalot21).
Photo on 10-20-11 at 12.13 PM
Photo on 10-20-11 at 12.13 PM

¡Hola Xavier Villalobos! Qúe pasa!

 

Querido Xavier,


¡Hola! ¿Que tal? Mi nombre es Donesha Lee. Soy de Filadelfia pero vivo en Filadelfia tambien. Yo soy africano - americana, tengo catorce años. Mi cumpleaños es veintiedos en junio. Me enchanta estar de vago con amigos. Mi amigos son muy cómicos y bobos. Soy muy divertida y boba . Yo soy muy sociable, habladora,adorable. ¿Cómo eres tú? Me gusta cocinar, practicar deportes, ver la tele, y ir al cine. Me encanta escuchar música gusta Béyonce, Trey Songz, Lil Wayne, Nicki Minaj, y mucho mas. Uf, no me gusta nada hablar por teléfono, nadar, correr, y trabajar. No me gusta nada. Ahora ya de mi ahora cosas hace tu?



Con cariño,

 

 Donesha Lee


P. S Yo soy los Facebook "Donesha Prettyface Lee"!  :)

 

 


Mi!
Photo on 11-7-11 at 9.22 AM
Photo on 11-7-11 at 9.22 AM
Mi amig@ Bryanna, Haneef, Khadija, y Amani. :)
Photo on 11-1-11 at 11.40 AM #3
Photo on 11-1-11 at 11.40 AM #3
Photo on 11-23-11 at 12.33 PM
Photo on 11-23-11 at 12.33 PM
Me encanta Trey Songz.
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Screen Shot 2011-11-23 at 12.38.48 PM

New life, High school

I am Christopher, a spy on vacation to have the chance of experiencing the life of a high school student. This would be a hard process for me but I love challenges. There is obviously nothing wrong with a 26 year old in a freshmen class. I had the choice to choice between 4 of the grades but I want the whole experience. From the beginning to the end I want to see how it feels.

Shoes tied tight, pants on tight snap back on. I wanted to blend in. The only thing that made me different was this 5 O’clock shadow. But I could just be a early bloomer. The bell rang I got to my first class. All I have to say is wow. I think this will be a good time. First class, was so easy. I mean all we did was talk to my teacher about who I am. It was heard to make up a lie and keep with it for the whole day. I swore today I am like 10 different people to many of my teachers. But they won’t ever find my true Identity. Class went on everything was a breeze. Then lunchtime came. Since I was new to this school I didn’t know anyone. But since I wasn’t the only one that was feeling this way it was easier to make some friends. I saw this kid sitting on the table just staring at his shoes. I decided to go up to him and said “Hey nice shoes”. He responded with a nicely said thank you. After that I decided to start a conversation with him. We basically just talked about video games girls and fighter. It seemed to be that my new friend and I (Rick James) had a lot in common. Besides our dislikes we are very alike. Rick James was from Europe. Melbourne, Australia. I always wanted to go there, but you know being a full time spy I don’t have for those types of vocations. There is actually a good reason why I am being a high school student except for the experience. It seems that there is another spy doing the same I am and is attended the same high school I go to. The current high school is called LHhs (Lion house high school). Pretty small school, but I seem to love it. Lunch ended, and it was time for my next class. All I heard was screaming a chanting. Me being a spy, I get my guard up and hold onto my gun. I was about to pull it out, but I then noticed that I’m still in school, so the only possible thing I could do at this moment is hide. So under the table I went. It was such a awkward moment because I was the only one moving. My teacher then soon told me that it was only a small fight about to break out, but everything is under control now. My school day ended and I decided to go home and do research on this Rick James dude, just in case he is not apart of my mission. My heart started bursting up, loud breather is all I hear. It seems that Rick James is a European spy that was sent to get the files of the government. The files that he is looking for is files about the U.S spy system (USSS). Once he gets a hold of this, he can and will just conquer the untied states and put us in a big war. I knew I couldn’t have a fight with out a good night sleep so sleeping I go.

7:00 out and on my way to school. I went thought my day like usually. I saw Rick James and confronted him. Everything I said was correct. Since this was a high school we took this like high school students. We had a street fight. But this time we will be fighting until the end. We called out bosses over to watch from afar. The goal of this fight is if Rick wins then I have to back down. But if I win he has to back down. The bell rings we being to fight. 2 punches fly on me, but I took it and countered. Once I got a hold of him he was done. And I did. All you saw was a quick jab to the eye and down goes Rick.

            Rick has fallen back now, and my high school life continues on because I would still love to have this feeling, also I just solved my case.

Kawashima v. Holder

The Case Issue
“Can filing a false tax return count as an “aggravated felony” for purposes of a statute that subjects an immigrant convicted of an “aggravated felony” to deportation.”
(Can immigrants who file a false tax reports be deported)

The Law’s being Challenged
An aggravated felony is when someone lies about over $10,000 and/or when the government losses over $10,000 in tax return money.
(Section 7201 of title 26  explains this)

The Law’s History
Immigration law allows the US government to deport anyone who has committed an “aggravated felony.” At first it only applied to crimes such as murder and drug trafficking, but congress has expanded the definition overtime.

What Happened
Akio and Fusako Kawashima, a Japanese couple falsely reported their income taxes. They’ve been citizens of the US since 1984 (27 years). In 1997, Mr. Kawashima filled a false corporate tax return and his wife helped him. It made them seem as though they made less money then they actually did which illegally exempted them from paying government of owed tax money. They lied, and it cost the government over $10,000 in tax revenue. Section 7206 of the tax code was violated due to these actions.

Kawashimas were convicted of a violation under Section 7206, the tax code, not tax evasion which violates Section 7201. Because of this, they weren’t deported. The government still started to deport them which would relate to Section 7206.

The Question to the Supreme Court
Do the Kawashimas fall under Section 7201 even though they violated Section 7206.

My Prediction
At 1st, I thought they were a lost cause, but they have an awesome lawyers, so now I think they might actually win and stay in America, but still face consequences for disobeying the laws under Section 7201.

The Man Behind The Dish

I heard the crowd loudly roaring on their feet. The noise was bothering me.  I was shaking on the inside, but on the outside my body was as still as a tree.  I hated playing away from home. I tried not to tell my self what the game meant. Game 7 of the World Series, we we’re up by one run, with two outs, and the bases loaded. Skipper put that rookie Hernandez on the hill, to try and finish it. I put down one finger telling the kid to throw a fastball.

 

Strike one.

 

Next pitch, I put down four fingers telling him to throw the change. I really wanted to fool the hitter here. Pitch was right on the inside corner. I remember the loud yell from the ump.

 

“Strrrrike Twooo!”

 

I looked over at the batter. He was kind of shot and pretty skinny. I knew he was one of his team’s fastest players. He could hit too according the scouting report all though he was in a slump during the series. I looked over at their base runners, then back at the pitcher.

 

The ballpark was silent. I put down two fingers signaling for him to throw his breaking ball. He wound up, with the season on the line. Nervous fans were on their feet, one strike away. The atmosphere was electric. The pitch was on its way. It was coming in at about 74 mph, yet it felt like it was coming towards me slower.

 

The ball curved sharply downward into the dirt. The ump called it low and outside. I had to leave the crouch to block the ball. I looked the base runner back to third.

 

One ball, and two strikes was the count on the batter. I threw down one finger for the fastball once again. I just wanted the kid to throw a strike so maybe we could get a groundball or something.

 

“Come on kid.” I kept thinking.

 

The pitch came in. It was a ball way inside. The batter did an overly dramatic jump out of the box, to show the ump how inside it was.

 

Two balls, two strikes on the hitter. Opposing fans started getting a little bit more rowdy.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to throw. I ended up putting down two fingers yet again, signaling another breaking ball. My heart was pumping a mile a minute. The pitch crossed the plate. The hitter checked his swing.

 

It was a full count and I couldn’t believe the ump called that just outside.

 

I ask the ump for time. I could sense the nervousness in the kid. I ran out to the mound, our Skipper right behind me.

Skipper was asking us “What do you feel comfortable throwing him right now?”

The kid told him he thought his fastball or changeup could work. It was also a shock to hear him talk because he had such a thick Dominican accent. Skipper looked over at me for my point of view. I told him that I liked the changeup in this situation. The hitter had to be expecting the heat with a full count, so why not give him the slow stuff to fool him. The ump ran out behind us. He told us to finish up our meeting.

 

Everyone went back to their positions. I threw down my four fingers, which told him to throw the changeup. He went into the stretch. The runners took off.

 

The pitch was a hard hit grounder, towards the shortstop. The runner sprinted out of the batter’s box there was almost no chance to get him at first. I knew the throw was coming towards me. I touched the plate with my foot, knowing that there was a force at any base.

 

I heard people on both sides yelling, “Home, home, throw it home.”  

 

It all came down to this. The runner was barreling towards me. I was so scared yet so focused on what would be the outcome of the play. He stuck his head down toward my chest. The ball was almost in my glove. As the ball hit my glove, I felt as if a freight train had just hit me. I fell back, as the runner fell forward. The wind was beyond knocked out of me. I heard the ump yell something, but the call just blurred out. And then the rest just blacked out. I don’t know how many hours have passed by since all this. I’m really anxious. Can you please tell me what happened?

 

Not The Crystal!!

(Door opens and bell ring)

Ms. Brown, now I know that you said I couldn’t come back to your motel, but I have nowhere else to go. (Sigh) If you turn me away I will freeze, it’s 12:00 in the morning and it’s cold outside. It’s not even my fault that I got kicked out of the house this time. Someone, which is my brother,  set me up I just know it. If I tell you what happened will you then let me stay? (Pause)

 

(Walk back and forth) Ok, so I was in my room dancing and singing to my favorite song by Chris Brown, until my mom came in my room. “Joesy, I’m out with a couple of friends so look after your brother until I get back. Oh, and make sure that nothing happens to my crystal my mom gave to me.” When she left I continued to dance and sing. My little brother Joshua came to me saying that he was hungry so I went downstairs with him. He was in a playful mood that he almost knocked over the crystal so I yelled and told him to sit down. After I got him something to eat I went back upstairs. I was minding my own business, when Joshua came to my room again. “ Josey I want a twinkie. Give me a twinkie!” I told him that we didn’t have anymore but he kept saying that we did because the box was on top of the refrigerator. I told him that there was nothing in the box so he got mad. Twenty minutes later I hear a crash downstairs, so I run down to the living room to see what it was. And I see that mom’s crystal was on the floor broken into a million pieces. I panicked and started to pick the pieces up when my mom came through the door.  “AAHH!! Why would you do this to me? I told you to make sure that nothing happens to my crystal and I come back and see this.” “But mom, I didn’t do this, Jousha did.” “I can’t believe that you would blame your little brother for something you’ve done.” “But mom I…” “Stop no more excuses. I can’t take this anymore with you arguing with me or getting into trouble. I’m just done! Get out of my house.” “Mom, you’re going to kick me out because your crystal is broken?” ”No, I’m kicking you out because I’m tired of your drama. You’re always getting into fights, arguing with people, and getting put away. So get out my house.”

 

After we argued I went to my room to pack my things when Joshua came back in my room smiling and laughing. And before I left I tried to tell my mom that it wasn’t me but she didn’t want to hear it. I went to some of my other friends’ houses but their mom don’t like me but I know that you do so that’s why I’m here now. Hoping that you will help me.

 

So can I please stay, I promise that I won’t bother your costumers. I won’t even be here in the daytime; only at night to go to sleep. (Pause) Ok…fine (gets mad) let me go out in the cold to freeze. No shelter, no heat, no food. I thought you would be different from the others but I see that you’re exactly the same. (turns around goes to door then stops)

 

(speaks to herself) Why don’t people like me? I try to do everything for them and they treat me like this. I feel alone, like no one cares. And here I am trying to get help from someone, who I thought I could trust but looks like I can’t. I might as well just steal a key to get a room. That’s it! Why stay outside in the cold when I can just steal a key and be warm. Wait…No… I can’t… she trust me and so does her daughter. We’ve been best friends since 1st grade. I can’t do this to her, to them. What am I going to do? I try to do everything right but it always seems to come back to bite me. (Cries a little)

 

(turns around to see if she’s still there) You’re really going to send me out there in the cold? What kind of an adult are you? And out of all people, out of the whole world, I thought that at least you would see where I’m coming from. (Mrs. Brown holds up a key) Are you serious? You are giving me a key to a room? (hugs) Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I didn’t mean I, I was just mad that’s all. I promise that I’ll pay you for the all the time I stay. Matter of fact (gets money and hands to Ms. Brown) here is some money for this week.

 

(walks away to room)

​10 minutes of Heaven is a Lifetime of Hell

As I stand here in a supermarket, seeing this food is like a golden piece of heaven, handed to me for free. Running up and down each isle, ripping and grabbing every piece of junk food putting it into my Jansport. (Stop and Stare) A small open buffet style food cart with Chicken, Mac n’ Cheese, Cabbage, Rice and Mash Potatoes. The thought of this being my first hot meal in two months, drinking my favorite soda, forgetting about the life of hell I would be going back too. (Sigh of relief) (Flashback)

Hey Mom!

Do you remember the first time you and dad took me to the zoo? Seeing the smile on my face as I ran after the birds. Do you remember seeing me cry over, the thought that, the animals were getting hurt in the cage’s? Do you? Because I know I don’t remember.

Panicking, frustrated, realizing the play money from monopoly that once filled my pocket, is now gone. Walking and Walking, getting closer to the line, I shoved my hand inside my pocket, pulling out lint and stolen chips. I realize that 10 minutes of heaven is now a lifetime of hell.

Hey Dad!

Do you remember you and mom teaching me how to ride my bike. Do you remember at night when I thought that the boogieman would get me and how you stayed up all night so that I would know I was safe. Do you? Because I know I don’t remember.

Mom and Dad

Do you remember when I said you guys are my hero’s? Do you remember when you asked me what I want for Christmas and I said a brother or a sister. Do you? Because that seems like the only thing I remember about us being together as a family.

Why me?

I lost my mom and my dad all in the same month. I know I’m 18 but I have 3 siblings, who need somewhere to continue on living. But I promised to be my brother and sisters keeper. Signs of stress, Tiara and Tiana failing school, Isaiah getting into trouble with the law.

Mom!

Dad!

Are you out there? If so I need help, I’m tired, I want to give up, send me help please!

Lord please, Mom and Dad, you guys are missed everyday and we love, we will see you guys again one day. (Walk off crying)

 

 

 

 

¡Hola, Javier Castillo!

​Hola amigo!

¿Qué mas? Mi nombre es Leah. Vivo en Filadelfia. Se conoce como "La Ciudad de Amor Fraternal." Tengo catorce años. Cuándo es tú cumple? Mi cumpleaños es el once de junio. Está mucho nublado y bastante frio en Filadelfia. ¿Qué tiempo hace hoy en Venezuela? Yo tengo dos hermanos. Los amo. Aquí son dos fotos. Aquí es mi y mi hermano, Joel.

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259871_1966328678144_1240717760_32018130_819498_n
Aquí es mi y mi otro hermano, Mateo. Estamos adorable. Jajaja.
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262514_2051349643615_1240717760_32138432_2763399_n
Aquí es un foto de me.
Photo on 10-21-11 at 6.47 AM
Photo on 10-21-11 at 6.47 AM
Yo toco teclado. Aquí es un video de me jugar "River Flows in You" por Yiruma, uno de mi favorito pianistas.
Me encanta juego fútbol mucho. Me gusta también leer, comer (jajaja), escribir, y escuchar música. Los fines de semana, me gusta descansar. Cuando tengo tiempo libre, me gusta correr. Odio jugar videojuegos, y no me gusta nada ver la tele. ¿Y tú? ¿Qué te gusta hacer? ¿Te gusta juegas fútbol? ¿Qué es tú equipo favorito? Mi favorito banda es "Mumford and Sons". ¿Y tú? 

Soy es morena y más o menos baja. Soy deportista, boba, y por lo general inteligente. Depende del día, soy habladora. ¿Y tú? ¿Cómo eres? ¿Hablas un poquito inglés?


Bueno, me voy porque tengo que estudiar.

Con cariño,
Leah

The Unsung Revolution

            No, I refuse to ever let them break me. They would have feared my look back on the cold Philly streets, but now, I have no power over what they do. I guess that’s what happens when the same people have imprisoned you for 17 years. No, this isn’t prison anymore it’s Hell. What they do to us . . . I bet if we were a different color, we’d have the same primetime of that Iraq torture prison. Of course, that’s not the case. If you tell what goes on, you’ll not only get laughed at and called stupid, but you’ll get it 10x worse than what you told happened.

 “What you want NIGGER!”

 “I’ll take the cream of wheat sir,” I always say, with a smile. My brain has been programmed to say this, even though under my skin, I’m hot like Mt. Saint Helen in 2004.

 “Good, cause you ain’t getting no banana MONKEY!”

 “Oh no sir, I don’t want that, too much potassium for my diet.” That’s how you get’em back. They never like it when you use “big words”. The accomplishment felt good until the expected happened. Every guards fist was flying at my face, while my legs instinctively dropped and curled up. 2 minutes and the occasional n-word passed before I got up, brushed my jumpsuit, and walked off.

  I go out to the yard to play basketball with my best friend. No one knows his real name, but he goes by “Silk”, though he’s almost 90 years old and wrinkly. I though about what I’m going to do when he passes, when the ball he shot missed and hit a guard smack in his head. I remember saying, “RUN NOW!” but it was useless to say to him, he could barely walk. I turned to see about 20 guards, tasers out, and every inmate outside. Everyone was looking at Silk, who was crying.

  “NIGGER YOU MINE!” bellowed one of the guards as he raced at Silk. He swung his big meaty fist and hit Silk in his jaw, retracting with a couple teeth. That must have been the cue. Every guard rushed in to get their licks, fueled by the smell of flesh opening up revealing pearl white bone. The horde of guards retreated, revealing an unrecognizable, close to death, Silk. As he lay there unconscious, inmates running furiously over to him, I could already see that he was dead. Somewhere, dormant inside my heart, a spark ignited the fuel that the guards’ 17-year-old abuse provided.

 

“What the HELL is wrong with you! It was an accident! You didn’t have to beat him to death! Fear was no longer a registered word in my vocabulary. Seeing my friend, my diary, the man I told everything too, my mentor dead at my feet, that overfilled the cup of hate I had towards the guards.

 “Boy, you better watch your tongue.”

If I hadn’t looked at him, I wouldn’t of saw the sheer fright in his eyes. He knew what he did was wrong, but he tried to keep his composure. Standing on a large boulder in the middle of the yard, the Death Valley sun beaming at my forehead, I did what I hadn’t done since my trial: spoke my mind. “My brothers, and that’s exactly what we are now. Not by blood, but by bond and hardship. We can no longer allow these oppressive tyrants to slaughter our souls! We can no longer stand back and watch one of our brothers get the leather belt across his face. The day for revolution has come, and this damn sure will not be televised! We pray to be delivered from evil every night, today YOU HAVE THAT CHOICE! MAKE IT!” Silence washed over the entire yard while I awaited the fist of these human devils.

 “Amen” came a voice echoing through the crowd.

 A roar erupted, drowning out the sounds of 400 inmates piling on to 70 guards.

 A discreet but extensive letter was sent to each inmate, apologizing to each one, promising a better future for us captured survivors.

 

 

"Give it time."

“Miguel, wake up! It’s snowing!” My baby sister scared the heck out me, but in doing so, she got me up and running towards a nearby window. Pull the blinds up in a flash. It’s no lie. Snow was falling from the gray clouds in the sky above. Falling, falling beautifully. A smile appeared on my face. It was my first time seeing snow. Seeing snow reminds me what happened about a year ago.

I go back to Puerto Rico. It’s a place where you would never see snow down there. You’d see the beauty of the Tropics, the white sandy beaches, the crystal clear Caribbean Sea, palm trees swaying in the warm tropical wind that would flow over us. My community was a great community. My family and I knew everyone around us, and everyone knew my family and me. We would walk into stores for buying food, clothing, etc, and they would say hello or wave to us, and then we’d get into conversations about how has our day been, what’s been going in your life, the latest gossip, chats like that. (The gossip refers to my Mom.) My community was a community I loved. So if it was a good community, why did I leave Puerto Rico? It turns out I had no choice. Like all good things, they must come to an end. We struggled financially for a certain time. I knew it. We couldn’t make payments on our home. It wasn’t looking good.

We had to move out, but where? The answer was kind of obvious. The United States. We packed up what we needed, clothing, food, merchandise that mattered to us. Stuff like that. We made sure we didn’t forget the papers and passports. My Mom kept nagging Dad about it. One more of those, and Dad was ready to flip out. I was ready to flip out as well. I mean, I know she’s want to make sure we don’t forget anything we need, but it’s like she pokes us about it. She’s like “Hey, hey. You get the papers and passports. Did you? We can’t forget them.” Okay, we won’t the damn thing! I ready to here from Dad, but he never said it. Even when we got into the country, he stayed cool.

Speaking of coming into the country, America was a new experience for us. We entered JFK International Airport. That’s in New York City. We saw buildings reach up high in the sky, many automobiles, so many people in suits. There were so many things in New York City. However, there are some bad things in America I heard of. Lots of violence, an obesity problem (which was kind of obvious), and “party hooters.” The first night in our new American home, and the party hooters I told you about, yeah… it was a rough night for our family. At first I didn’t think this could work.

5 days being in our new home, I told Mom, “I don’t this could work.” She asked what I meant. I told her, “We moving to America. I mean it’s been rough these past few weeks.” Mom gave me a solution that she thought right off the top of her. “Give it time.”

With that, I think about these past months of being here, and well… she was right. Aren’t all moms right? Anyway, Mom finds a job at the New York Times headquarters. She works in a normal cubical like any other person in office. She just checks and edits a person’s article. Sounds boring. Here this, because of her work on, she got promoted to being the editor’s secretary. Dad has a job on art. I must have forgotten to mention that Dad is an artist. Loves to draw, paint, anything to make his art pop out, to inspire, to… make you feel. Apparently, what happen to start of Dad’s new art career. He made an art store on corner of where we live now, and a contractor comes into his store (I’m saying it from him), he said the contractor loved his art. Every art piece in the store had a theme to it. He offered him a deal that Dad could not refuse. He would sell his art around the world, to art museums, galleries, etc. He would supply him with his own art materials. Hearing all this from Mom and Dad, I’m like, “Wow.” I’m just amazed that we have come Puerto Rico in a financial crisis, and here we are. School is working out for me, too. I made good friends during these past months. I even showed them one of Dad’s paintings, I hear ooh’s and aah’s. One of my teachers said, “It’s remarkable. Your Dad must have an incredible mind to make such fantastic imagery.”

So yeah, I miss Puerto Rico, my old friends, my old community, but I have a new community that I like now. It’s my new home, have new friends, and I experience a weather change up here as well. I’m so use to warmth of Puerto Rico. Now I have to get used to cold winters, but at least I see a new kind of precipitation. And I can do cool activities in it as well. So I guess that wraps up my internal monologue. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going sledding.


 

Just another day in the war against nature

Kyler Jones           

11/7/1

 

I find myself silent, black hoodie up, lying down, arms covered over my eyes blocking the sun, what I see is the grass. The grass. And then-flashback.

 

 I remember it was summer and this entire mini prairie that I crouch on now was alive with sunflowers, and various tall plants, like lavender. I didn’t know much about plants then (don’t know much about the now),but I knew there was something beautiful about this area that made me subconsciously venture there at my spare time, accompanied with my dog. The grass that I lay on now, was bright green and smooth then, and I always thought, this is here to stay, they-can-not-touch-it. As worn down and small fraction of what’s left of nature, it was still monumental to me, surpassing the awe of any skyscraper or city landscape you could see, To this day it is like a dying paradise. The grass passage way, always polished with dew, and the tall plants diverse with sunflowers, rabbits, spiders, hidden animals of all sorts, buzzing and moving with life. It was easy to get lost, and ignore the suburban wasteland on the other side of the creek.

 

So my spirit is back to the present now, in the same position, at birds eye view, I look as if I had fallen down and shielding myself from a bomb above. And then the grass I glimpse at, the grass of the now, the entire pathway, scarred by the tracks of construction machines. I’m still shielding myself, but I look away from the gruesome grass, and I try to look up ahead at the rest of the pathway. I always knew the pathway was finite. And at the end was more houses, but this time, the lovely trees that used to shelter the lost animals in it, were moving in the distance. I found this scary at first, for the fact that they were moving, but then I realized that their actually being commanded to move by the construction workers- and I’m scared at that fact even more. I sit up, and something is in my stomach. It’s the deer. The deer I saw a couple of weeks ago, there were so many that time. They were hidden, untouchable. But you saw them prancing so closely all along the half wood. Half wood, I should say nearly wood. And then they just disappeared.

 

‘ Oh yes I remember the deer, yes they’re shooting them off now because they are so overpopulated and lost out of their natural habitat.’ Said Justine Pierce.

 

Justine Pierce was a middle class, woman of bold age and bold wrinkles. She works at the Cobbs Creek Environmental Branch in Yeadon. She’s seen the same things I’ve seen. And cried the same tears, when the water department destroyed the land around the creek, last summer.  I met her a last month, those were words she told me.

 

I watched a documentary a couple days ago called “End-Civ”, I remember a clip where an anonymous Earth First! Member talks about how they mark the trees they will leave during clear cuts. I thought about how those trees were scarred forever, as the WWII Jewish holocaust survivors were scarred for life with tattoos. Clear cuts are a holocaust. The Jews were devoured for profit, and the trees are devoured for profit.

 

Bears, I hear the sound of bears. Loud grizzly bears screaming, I want them to be bears. But I know they are the sounds of chainsaws and machines. And then there’s the laughter of the big bellied construction workers. They leave their coffee cups, Dunkin Donut wrappers, and gasoline tanks in on the soil. But I know I can’t be angry at them, because I know that they are just trying to make a livin’.I know they need to eat.

 

I walk to where there was once a beautiful landscape of trees, and I see a broken trashed up grave. And the trees, the trees, all of them piled up, past my head. Then I remember how in war they pile up the dead bodies, without proper burials. The soldiers get proper burials.  I saw only a couple trees left, they were all scarred with the X’s, I saw a black cat run up the trees as my dog Poncho went after it. Then I remember all the animals that make these trees their homes. The nests these trees provide, the oxygen, they shelter the tops soil so that life can grow.

Between the sound of the construction workers laughing as they tore down trees on the other side of creek, the loud industrial roars of the chainsaws, why do I not feel shame. Why do I not feel the tears? I’m afraid to feel, but I’m even more afraid not to. 

If pain is the only thing I can feel, than let me have the most miserable life I can. I don’t see the rationality in destroying your planet in the name of human progress.The earth is a finite resource, in fact it's not a resource it's a living thing. It’s not sanity to kill everything, in the requirements of a technological God? You can’t pay for the air you pollute, the water you blacken, the animals and land that we gobble up and replace with these deserts we call cities. We’re all guilty for when the time comes when we realize that our children can not eat money.

Aazimah Muhammad Monologue

Aazimah Muhammad 

11/17/11

Monologue​



I love ice cream, well, loved ice cream. You and I were one, but now you’ve fallen. Now I’m sad. Now I can only think about your cool choclatelly-ness on my lips. I loved you, and now you left me. Looking at you not in my cone, made me cry. I thought it was only you and I, but now your cheating. Cheating on me with the ground? I was good to you; I even made sure you were paid for. You were going to be the highlight of my day, but now I cant think about it because it will only make me feel worst. I could go get another one, but I only wanted you. The next ice cream cone will only be yet another failed relationship, after I eat it of course. I only wanted you to be with me, and you left. Because of my clumsy pink church shoes, I tripped and you left me. We could have gotten thought it together, but you flipped and fell. You lay beneath my shoes, even with a little of your chocolate on my ruffle socks.

 

And now I just have to cry. Just sit here and cry. How could a 4 year old child, ever be so lonely. Well without you I feel just that, lonely.  Looking at you melt on my shoe soles, now changing my shoes a different color, I just cry. Tasting the complete opposite of you, hot, salty tears only make me break down. I wish I had you to be sweet and cold on my taste buds. But now I’m too upset, I don’t know what to do anymore. You’re still melting and I’m still standing here with a blank and salty face, wishing you could make it better.

 

Before you melt completely and run down the sidewalk of the ice cream shop, do you remember that time we were on the swings, and I was so over excited that you and I were at the park on that lovely day. What about that time when we were at the amusement park, and you were running all down my hands, or even the time that you made my hands all sticky. Or do you even remember my love for you as a child? Being an adult now I have to think about many-failed relationship as being that day you fell off my cone. You taught me something; you taught me that all relationships end. Either someone gets left hopelessly, or it ends sweet and abruptly.

 

The bigger picture is that it could be sweet every time, but no matter what, it has to end. Ice cream now that your almost gone, I would like to tell you that you and I were meant for each other, just like the rest of my favorite desserts, who managed to terminate the relationship. I will understand, and even as an adult I will understand how things work out. The first lick is the sweetest, but the first cut is the deepest. 

Welcome to The Jungle

Taylor Ximines

 

Welcome to the jungle. Where people here usually end up in jail, where they actually do look like animals inside of a cage. Welcome to Hell on Earth. Some days you feel as though Hell is a wonderful alternative then being in this place. Drug addicts and dealers are on every corner like clockwork. Welcome to the place that will make you or break you. Where if you do live past 21 then you will not accomplish anything. Either you are making babies or making drugs, there are no other options. Here we have no real mothers. Instead we have women who had to give up their childhood and dreams to raise their own children. Here babies have babies. Women who repeated the dreaded cycle of nothingness. Bitterness and regret run through their veins instead of blood. And fathers? Half the people here don’t even know the definition of this word. All they know is that 9 months before their birth dates their mothers had sex with some man. And the ones who do know their father only know him by a tombstone or an inmate number.

There are no houses on the hill in this place. Instead, we have houses so closed to each other that you can smell what your neighbors are cooking through your walls. No one here lives in a condo, instead they have apartment buildings whose hallways are filled with filth and urine and elevators are never in operation. Nope, there are no backyards here, alleyways are what we have. And in these alleyways there are no Mercedes or BMW cars with the top down.

The streets are covered in nothing but filthy trash, so much people can’t even tell you what color the concrete on the ground is. There is a foul smell here also, not so much an actual stinky smell; but the smell of failure. A smell that once you’re here you are here forever.

College? The kids here can’t even spell that word. Most people dropout by age 15 or 16, or just stop going. You see education means absolutely nothing. The only “higher learning” that gets done here is the high people get from smoking drugs. Only a few people have gotten out of here and got an education and better life. And the ones that did get out? Oh trust me, they have no thought of coming back. Quite honestly I don’t blame them. I mean why come back? People here think of you as a sellout or snobby, because you did what they never could.

Welcome to the place where the sun don’t shine. Only good days here are the days when no gunshots are heard. And the funniest thing of all is that this is never going to change. Poverty is always going to be the driving force that keeps people here. Something that this place never had and never will is hope.

You see I am what causes all of this, I am the reason why these people will never know or do any better. I am what keeps these people from living a better life. I am Ignorance.

Captured!

Tyanna Pleasant

11/10/11

Captured

       (To self) The water is much warmer than usual. (To self) It does not smell like my home. Did we move to another location momma? I know you hear me talking to you, where are we? Where did you go? I do not want to play games right now, I just woke up and it’s very early. (To self) Okay, I guess I’ll come look for you. READY OR NOT HERE I COME!! Momma! Where are you I can’t find you anywhere? You are a very good hider; maybe we should play when I am familiar with this place though. (To self) There are no hiding places around here and I can see everything; the water is so clear. (To self) I have no clue where she would be hiding and I do not know my way around this place. I give up, I’m done looking for you momma, and you can come out now. What is that over there? Is that humans? Yay, I love humans I’m going to go play with them, and maybe they can tell me where my momma is hiding. OUCH! What is this, why can’t I get to the humans? Hello humans can you hear me? My name is Jayden Dolphin, I’m 3 years old and I’m looking for my momma. She is hiding from me and I cannot find her. Do you know where she may be hiding; I’m having trouble finding her. Why are you laughing? I am asking you a question. What did you say? I can’t hear you speak louder please? Can you hear me? STOP! What is that bright light! What are those objects all of you have? I want one too they look fun. (To self) I found one of them at the bottom of my Ocean before but I did not know what to do with it. What do they do? What are they called? Can you show me how to work it please? Are they poisoning me? STOP I do not like that, the flash is unpleasant to my eyes. Why are you all laughing? I want to know what is funny may I laugh with you? What is so funny? Please tell me? Can you speak up please? I cannot hear what you are saying. I think there is an invisible wall I cannot get through it, can you try to come over here? Then, we can swim together, you can teach me how to work the flash thing you have in your flipper, and you can tell me what is funny and we can laugh together. Come on, it will be fun. Why won’t you come play with me? Something is preventing me from going over there to you, so you have to come over here. This is not fun; I wanted to play with you all. Now my feelings are hurt, I’m going away you are not nice humans. My momma is going to hear about you, and she is not going to like you guys at all. She is going to tell your mommas and you will get into trouble. MOMMA, where are you! (To self) I do not think I am home anymore, what if I never find my momma? (To self) What if the horrible people Papa used to always talk about have kidnapped me? (To self) There are lots of yummy looking fish around here. I am hungry now. Too bad momma isn’t around right now; she could be enjoying these fishes with me. They are very delicious, and just how I like them. I have been thinking about my day today. Unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that I am in a tank, that maybe my momma is never coming back, and that the horrible people have caught me.

 I have been…CAPTURED!

 

From 16 to 30

Hey dad how was…Damn, another one of them dreams. I looked around, it was still dark outside and I didn’t want to get up. I wish my life was a dream. My mom at home with us cooking dinner, my dad coming home from work. I hate my life. I hate my parents, especially my mom. Why did she leave, she was doing so well. If she was struggling with her addiction all she had to do was tell us. I would of got her some help. But she left me, right after dad got locked up, making me take care of my sister alone. I mean my dad was a good guy he just did the wrong things. He made sure me and Amya kept our grades up, always made sure we was living somewhere, and kept us on the right track. I know he’d change what he did if he could, but he can’t. I looked at the alarm again, 6:05 am. I gotta wake up Amya.

We did our usual routine. I wake her up, she fusses, and eventually gets dressed, while I make breakfast…. well, cereal. As I walked down the hallway I made sure I locked the apartment, we don’t have much but the last thing I need is to have whatever we got left taken from us. We made our way down the dark hallway, with that one flickering light that can go out at any moment, and on our way to the elevator. Once we got down to the first floor, I wave to Mrs. Brown our landlord, and walked Amya to her bus stop. But this time the bus wasn’t there. I looked at my watch my dad got me the day before he got arrested. It said 7 am so where is this bus, because I really gotta get to school. If I’m late one more day that’s my ass. I can’t afford to repeat a grade, at least not tenth grade. I mean my teachers have been trying to help since they know my situation, but there’s only so much they can do.  I looked down the street. There was nothing but street lights and broke down houses. No one was out which is the usual around here. People only come out at night to sell drugs and stuff. I'm safe in my neighborhood though. I kind of have street cred around here since my dad was a drug dealer. Everyone that sells drugs around here works for my dad… well use to. Her bus finally came giving me just enough time to get to school.

I got to school just in time to get to my locker and get my books for history. Just as I shut my locker I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned around and I saw her. Naomi the most beautiful girl in this school, but why was she talking to me. “ Hey Daemon.” I looked at her surprised she even knew my name. I mean I wasn’t a loser, I knew people, I had friends and was surprisingly popular considering the fact that I never had new clothes so I guess it was my personality. “ Umm... Hey Naomi. Wassup?” I finally said, I started wondering how I sounded. “ So I just wanted to know….” She said in a very sexy voice but my phone started ringing. My phone never rings unless it has something to do with Amya. I answered it. “ Hello Daemon?” some lady said. “Yeah this is me” I said I was getting annoyed. “Okay I was calling to tell you about your sister, Amya.” The lady said. She had a calm voice  so I didn’t think it was anything serious. “Yeah what’s wrong with her?” I said confused. “Well she has a very high fever and she’s very nauseous, is there anyway that someone can pick her up?” At that moment all I could do was look at Naomi. The one chance that she will ever talk to me slipped out of my hands, but it was my sister. This was something I knew I had to give up to give my sister that perfect brother. The big brother that will always be there for her and never leave her.

I only had a little

 

“I only had a little”

Glenn (surprised), I wasn’t expecting you to be up. I thought you were going to bed. You know don’t you? I can tell you know. At least you aren’t dad. I didn’t break curfue. I only had a little. Everybody else was doing it. I knew and trusted everybody there. Those can be my arguments. Just in case dad finds out. He will ground me I understand that. (Pause) I could just tell him. I would get in a lot less trouble, like when criminals plead guilty. He will see that it was harmless. Remind him that he did it when he was a kid. He will not hurt me then. I will still get yelled at, just not hit. I know he does not normally hit me but this might set him over. Although he did not hit you when he caught you. I will tell him the names of the people I was with. He knows them and trusts them. He will understand that I could not have been hurt with them around. No damage was done to myself. I will not tell him who brought it. That way everybody who was there will get in the same amount of trouble. I will remind him that all of my grades are fine and will not be affected. Remind him that I have never broken any rules, well except for this. I will tell him I have been the child who helped when it was needed. I was the only one who ever told the truth, even when I was getting in trouble too.

I do not have a problem. I only tried it once and did not like the taste. That will not work will it? He will assume I am lying about trying it once if I say I don’t like the taste. If I plead guilty I will not get in trouble for lying. That would only add to my punishment. Hopefully he will not tell me I can’t see Steve, Josh, or Ryan again. I can’t really make an excuse to hang out with the people who got me to drink. I will still see them at school, but it won’t be the same. It is not like I am drunk. I will be able to get up and go to school in the morning no problem. I won’t have a hangover. I just had a sip. 

This needs to end...(niyala brownlee0

Niyala Brownlee

This needs to end…

(In her room sitting in a corner with low light down knees up.)

I’m scared….

I’m scared shitless. …

(Pleading)

I want this to end.

No I need this to end.

What did I do to deserve this?

I mean, all I did…was help someone.

Was that so wrong?

They were being bullied,

And I thought it was wrong so…of course I intervened.

(Suddenly bland cold voice with no feelings but hate and blame)

But then It happened.

They turned on me.

First…the school,

…And then my friends.

I could handle the ignorance of the teachers and the sudden downfall in my ‘Popularity’. But of course,

When you leave something unattended or…let things go on without doing anything about it for a long time…

It gets worse.

Much worse.

(Sarcastic snobby tone)

It starts with the small pranks,

You know,

Like the old disappearing desk, or…the classical egg throwing and being locked in the bathroom stall with a bucket of water dumped over your head.

(adding in a lost wondering tone. Almost as if shes not speaking )

Then it turns big.

Thumb tacks everywhere you go. Burning trash in you book bag.

And if that doesn’t make someone paranoid enough,

(Questioning answer demanding tone)(Starts pacing)

Then what about when you to home to find everything in your room trashed,

but the doors were all locked. (smirking)

When you can’t even be safe in your own house… its scary isn’t it?

Yeah well you don’t even know the half of what it feels like. (cold wincing look)

It make me afraid,

Very afraid. (Sad face, start looking like she’s going to cry)

Makes me…Paranoid. (hands up to either side of the head wide eyes, wild crazy look)

I need help.

I need them to stop.

I need this to end.

What am I going to do.

When will this end?

(Just figured out tone)

Know, I know why that kid never said anything.

Know I know why no one dared to speak up.

But of course I had to open my mouth and say something.

But I don’t regret it.

I don’t regret what I did.

(Starts slowly speaking with fierce determination gradually getting louder. Emphases on the ‘I’)

What ‘I’ regret is how I never said anything against my own abuse.

What ‘I’ regret is how I didn’t stop it before it started.

What ‘I’ regret….

(Suddenly stops and starts speaking slowly but still determined)

…No…what I can’t stand!..

Is how I had the guts to stand up for someone else, But I coward in fear when it came to myself.

If I want this to end,

I have to do this my self.

I have to take the first step and take measures into my own hands because that’s where they were in the first place.

But when I strike back, I will not do I will not sink to there level with their dirty childish tricks.

I will be mature with my attack.

It wont be physical. But it will hurt like hell.

It will end my torture.

But at the same time, it will make them think twice about doing this to me, or anyone ever again.

Yeas that’s how I will fight back

That’s how I will win.

(Smirking determined face)

 

Quiet

​11-17-11

Gabby Santaniello
Monologue
Quiet

Speaking. It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s not like I can’t. So just go on… speak! But of course, I can’t, my throat closes up and I’m silenced again my by own fears. Write a poem, Mrs. Kemp said, write a poem about what you feel, it could be about anything, don’t hold back, don’t edit, just write. And so we do, we pour out our souls onto this 9 by 7 inch paper and then she tells us to speak. To get up in front of the class and recite the most vulnerable parts of us. So naturally, I go first. ‘Melody, read us your poem.’ And my heart stops, and my blood runs cold, I shake my head as my throat closes up, such a frequent feeling. I open my mouth but no sound comes out, and all Mrs. Kemp does is frown and look disappointed. I’m not surprised, this has been going on for a while.  I think people have begun to forget my name, ‘The quiet girl’ they call me. I haven’t always been silent, they have to know that, I’ve spoken to many of them before. They ask my why I don’t talk like they don’t know, like they weren’t the cause of it. I used to speak. But not anymore, once you’ve been shut up so many times, you loose the glamour of it all. Expressing my opinions means nothing if nobody wants to listen. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to them. Why should I have to share my thoughts? Thoughts are private things. My thoughts, my opinions, are mine and mine alone. Some people’s thoughts are nasty and mean, some people only want to tare you down, but what could you possibly hold against me if I never speak? 

Cancer eats Brains. By:Taylor Thomas

Taylor Thomas

-7-year-old girl, Angie on a hospital bed

-7year-old Cary, her friend talking to her

 (Angie laying on hospital bed, Cary sitting on a chair doing homework)

Angie, what did you get for number 7 on that math worksheet?

(Pause)

Are you sure? I got 2 not 1. You have to minus 1 not 2, silly. Mrs. Valley yelled at Kenny today in Religion class. Kenny took Sean’s notebook and threw it on the floor, so Mrs. Valley grabbed him by his shirt, took him outside and started yelling at him. She said that he is always a disruption to her class and that he never listens. She told him that she was going to send a note home to his mom. He was so scared!

Excuse me, nurse, can you get her a glass of water? Thank you.

(Nurse comes back with water. Monologue is spoken to the nurse now)

Ang, are you sleeping? (pause) Good. She needs to sleep. She’ll be really tired if she doesn’t sleep, if she’s going back to school on Monday. I don’t know how she’ll do it if she can barely sit up, let alone walk around for a whole day.  I wish I could sleep. I’m so tired, but I have to wait for my mom to pick me up when she’s done work. I know that cancer isn’t easy for anyone, but I just wish her cancer was curable. My mom was talking to her mom and they were talking about her cancer eating. It was eating something.. Oh! It was her brain. The cancer was eating her brain. They said that her brain was gonna turn to mush in a couple of weeks. I hope it’s not to mushy when she goes to college, cause my sister says college is really hard. Angie will have to think really really hard when she goes if her brain is all mushy. (beep beep beep)

(panic) Nurse? What’s that beeping noise? Is Angie okay? What’s going on! Help her! Take the needle things out of her arm! They’re hurting her! Help! Angie! Wake up! Angie! (back to nurse) Help her! She’s not waking up! Get her mom! She’s in the waiting room! (calls Angie’s mom) Michelle, Michelle! Hurry something’s wrong with Angie! She’s not waking up! She has to be okay for school Monday. (pause, long beep) the beeping stopped. She’s okay right? There’s no more beeping. She’s okay… Angie? Why won’t she wake up? Did the cancer go away? Did the cancer make her brain mushy? Is that why she won’t wake up? (Starts to cry) I hate cancer. Tell her cancer to stop making her sleep. She has to go to school to see everybody. Angie, Angie! Get up! We’re gonna go to school. Come on! (Mom walks in) Mommy, Tell Angie’s cancer to stop making her sleep! (pause) Angie I have to leave, mommy says we’re going home. I’ll come back tomorrow to see you okay? I love you.

(end scene)

I'd rather have bad times with you...

Victoria Yarbrough

November 9, 2011

Monologue

 

Today is the day. The judge will determine if I get to go back home to my mama. It’s been so long and I’ve tried so hard to be a good person. I’ve been on my best behavior. I brought my grades up, I apologized to all the punks I beat up, and I even cut off the ties with the drug suppliers. It all was hard, but I don’t want to go to another home where those people could care less about me. Where they forget to feed me, tell me I can’t go outside, and make me sleep on the floor. They're all liars, and pretend to give a damn in front of the authorities. I just want my mama to want me. I even promised God that I’d be better and I don’t get into that religion stuff. No more fighting, no more staying out late, and definitely no more selling drugs. I’m not a bad person though, all I’ve done, good or bad has been for my mama. I was tired of seeing her struggle with the rent, and living paycheck to paycheck. Especially when something could be done. I had to do something, right? My daddy ain’t shit; he left at snap of a finger. For my trying to help, they blamed my poor mama saying:

“Ms. Peters, your son is out of hand, and you have no control over him. We feel that it’d be best if he lived with a more organized family.”

 But the crazy thing about it is, she didn’t even cry or beg for me to stay. She just let them take me. I expected some real dramatic Life time scene where she’d be beating people’s ass’s for me. Instead, she pulled a poker face, signed some papers, and looked right through me. I felt the chill that lived in her eyes. She didn’t want me. I tried to help her and she didn’t want me. So why do I want to go back to her so bad? We don’t even get along and all we do is bicker. She wanted for me to have a better life though, but I am content with struggling if it means I can be with her. I’ll put up with the senseless fighting. I’ll find another way to help her. Hell, I’ll get a job even though I hate working. I’d rather have bad times with her than good times with someone else. Oh God, I hope the Judge makes the right decision. I can’t stand living with her, but I can’t stand living with those other people even more. I want to feel a mother’s tough love, not the synthesized version they’re trying to spoon feed me.They don't know my mama, and she's not a bad person. I was. But I've changed.