As I quickly hop in the taxi, panting heavily, I can’t help but think if my husband has already turned into one of ... them.

What if it’s too late? What if he already has the virus? 

“Keep calm, you can fool them” says the taxi driver. 

I look up at him through the rear view mirror with confusion. I reply saying “What?” “Keep calm, you can fool them. They’ll never know you’re still human if you don’t blink or breathe. The aliens don’t do that.” He repeats

As we pull over in an alley way, I listen eagerly while I try to calm myself down, yet remaining cautious, unaware of what the man’s intentions are.

He parks the car and then continues “The only way to remain unnoticed is to pretend to be them.”

“How do you know this?” I say.

“They got my wife. Two days ago, as I laid in bed with her, she cuddled next to me and I realized that I didn’t feel her heart beat. When I glanced down at her, I saw her just staring into space, as if she wasn’t mentally there. Just then, I understood, she had become one of them. I ran out of  the house immediately, hopped in my taxi and have been driving around ever since.”

“What if I can’t fool them? What if they can tell?” I ask.

“They won’t be able to if you remain calm and maintain your composer”

“Here.” He says, as he passes me some eye drops. “These will allow your eyes to stay moist, to avoid the urge to blink.” 

Before he pulls out of the alley way, he asks me “Are you ready?” 

“I think so.”

“Here we go. Prepare yourself.” 

It’s the year 2120. NASA has discovered new ways to travel to other planets in order to explore new life and energy forms to enhance Earth in new superior ways. When the astronauts returned to Earth, they brought back with them an unknown, alien life form virus that infects people through a spit- like substance that becomes contagious upon contact. The virus begins to take over once the victim has consumed the substance. Once it reaches the human’s immune system, their body goes into an “out of body” trans, causing their brains to become unconscious and their hearts to stop while they have the appearance of being awake. Over half of the U.S population has already been infected. As for the other half of the population ... Well the only thing they can do is try to escape before the whole world becomes infected. Here’s the unbelievable story of how the whole world got infected.

“Thanks.” I say in a humble tone. “Sorry about your wife too.” I add.

“If only we could find someway to cure this but how can you cure something that you don’t fully understand?”

He drives out of the alley and hits the main roads, leaving that last statement lingering in my mind. How can you cure something you don’t understand? 

We continue to drive in silence, until the car’s gas meter goes off. 

“Shit” he says. 

A few minutes later, we pull into what looks like a deserted gas station. 

“Wait here and remember what I told you.”

I stay put and agree attentively. 

Already paranoid, I wait for what seems like forever. Just then, I see him. A feeling of relief comes over me. As he walks over to the car, he begins mouthing something. I don’t quite understand what he’s trying to say. As he gets closer and closer to the car, still maintaining his alien- like stage, in the faded background, a group of people emerge. Then I understand, he’s mouthing “run!” I try to hope out of the back seat but I the door gets jammed. 

“I can’t get out! I’m trapped!”

The man runs towards the car, opens the driver’s side door, unlocks all of the doors and reaches over on the passenger side for his shotgun.

“Go! Go!” he says

He moves inches away from the car, while the aliens begin running towards us. Shots are fired, while I struggle to get my head together on what my next move is. I hop in the front seat and start the engine. 

“Get in!” I yell. 

“Go without me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Go, there’s not enough time!”

“You can’t hold them all off by yourself! Get in!”

“GO!”

I speed off with only uncertainty as my passenger.

Okay, Okay keep it together. This is the statement I repeat over and over in my mind. I reach about a mile up the road before I pull over, cut off the engine off and try to collect myself in the silence of the car as the engine begins to slow down. I place my head on my hands, which lean against the top of the steering wheel as the silence allows me to interact more with my thoughts. I replay the moment that the taxi driver told me about his wife and how I was able to fool them. I reach in my pocket and pull out the eye drops. Looking in the mirror, I apply 1 drop to each eye. Straight ahead, I can see the west side of Chicago which the main road leads to. Back to civilization I go. 

Once I reached the west side, the car’s gas meter goes off once more, forcing me to walk the rest of the way. I never felt more afraid in my life. 

“Helen, stop. You need a plan first” I say to myself before getting out of the car.

My thoughts become my only companion. 

“How can you reach Jeff’s job without getting caught? And if he is already one of them, what are you going to do next?” 

Even though I didn’t realize it yet, I had already answered my own question. There was no way of me knowing but I sure as hell was going to die trying out. If Jeff’s still alive, I know he’s either waiting for me to come find him or he’s trying to find me. I reach for my phone and replay the last message Jeff sent me. “Helen, where are you? Please come find me. I’m at work and something isn’t right. I think my boss and the executives are all infected. They’re trying to infect all the employers by the hour. I’m hiding in the storage closet in the basement. Please, help me Helen, before it’s too late.” 

I straighten up my posture, give myself a little shake and ease on down the road. 

As I look around at all of the people, I can easily see the deadness in their walk and the blank stares that they maintain. 

So far so good. I got this. They walk pass me as if I’m one them. 

“They’ll never know you’re still human if you don’t blink or breathe. The aliens don’t do that.” 

I constantly remind myself of the words that the taxi driver told, along with other thoughts in order to keep my mind occupied. An occupied mind, leaves an expressionless face. 

Before I reach the Sears tower, a group of men surround the building. 

“Keep calm” Remembering the taxi driver’s words once more. 

The biggest guard walks over. Even though he looks expressionless, he still has a look of intimidation. 

“How may we assist you ma’am?” he says.

Wow, they even sound out the norm. 

Trying to sound just the way they do, in a robotic, scripted tone of voice. 

“Yes, I need to enter the building to see my husband, Jeff.”

I don’t know if I should have said his name but too late now. 

He stares at me for a few seconds before saying “right this way”

All I want to do is sigh with relief but I know I can’t. So instead I just say “Thank you” and proceed to follow him. 

By the time we reached the elevator, I felt like I was seconds from passing out from holding my breathe so long. I have never been more anxious for these elevator doors to open. 

“Here you are Ms, do you need further assistance?” he says.

“No, thank you for your help” I reply. 

I walk in the elevator and desperately wait for the doors to close. Once they closed, I exhale the biggest breathe I have ever taken, panting as if I just ran a mile or two. I press the button that leads to the basement and all that’s running through my mind is Jeff. Doubt and uncertainty get the best of me but I try to maintain a positive mind set and pray that he’s safe.

“Ding”

The stop of the elevator sends my nerves through the roof. 

“NO!NO!NO!” I say as the doors open. 

I can’t believe it. When the doors, hey reveal my worse nightmare. I see Jeff standing there with the other aliens. 

“But how!” I say.

“Sorry sweetie, I knew you wouldn’t come if I tried to convince you so I had to sound in distress. It was the only way.” He says in that familiar robotic, scripted type voice. 

“You tricked me? I can’t believe it.” 

They move in towards me. This can’t be happening is all I can think. I know there’s noting I can do so I close my eyes as I hear there foot steps get closer and closer. 

When it comes to the judicial system, the list goes on about how many things should be corrected and just completely exiled from the laws. One of those decisions being on whether murderers should have parole or live the rest of their lives behind bars. Taking into consideration that some murderers aren’t just one time offenders, some have killed numerous people before actually getting caught. By giving a murderer parole, it sets the family and those involved into a state of injustice and unsatisfaction.  

Once trailed, the convicted receives either 3 options, life in prison, the death penalty or the institution for the criminally insane. For those who receive life in prison, doesn’t always mean a life behind bars. This can only be true if the convicted has what it known as parole. Parole is when a prisoner can be released from prison either temporarily or permanently on account of good behavior. With parole, the person may receive a release date after at least 12-13 years behind bars. Though, it usually depends on the crime committed. For the more harsher crimes, such as killing more than one person, they do receive first degree murder without the possibility of parole. If given a permanent release, this would mean that the murderer gets to walk free as a citizen again. 

After a loved one has been murdered, families don’t really want to hear about the facts and the rights regarding to the convict’s sentencing, unless it contains them being locked up for the rest of their days. The thought of that murderer having the possibility of parole puts them at unease. To know that while the reason for their sorrows is now walking free to live their life and start a new, can be painstaking to absorb. None-the-less, many families frown upon this rule in the judicial system and choose to stand against it because adults aren’t the only people to be murdered, children are too. With that being said, families don’t accept 12-13 years as a fairly ruled punishment, giving the fact that those children either didn’t even experience 12-13 years of their life or just made 12-13 years, which will still never equal out to a life time they will miss out on.

The corporation called Parole Block Program sponsored by Parents of Murdered Children, Inc. is a national organization built around families that have loss their loved one’s due to violence. It helps families to cope with their loss and gives them a chance to take control on whether their murderer should remain behind bars for the remainder of their sentence instead of having the possibility of parole. They write to the courts and highly recommend that the prisoner stays locked up with a reasonable explanation to back it up. Many people involved in this program don’t just do it for themselves but so that others don’t have to go through what they went through because the murderer was released back into society. It also comes down to the prisoner serving their rightful sentence, due to the fact that parole cuts their time in more than half of what they should be serving, resulting in some not serving their appropriate amount of time. The way PBP works, is they try to work with the courts and not so much against them by simply asking the courts to let the prisoner serve their sentence in full, and not necessarily asking for a longer sentence. An example of one story takes place in Omaha, Nebraska: “A paroled killer was sentenced to 20-60 years in prison after shooting a 25-year-old man to death. This was just one month after his parole from prison, where he had been incarcerated for almost 12 years for another shooting.” The family felt cheated out of justice and thought that the courts made a huge mistake, yet what hurt the most was that there was nothing they could do. If it hadn’t been for him being on parole, he wouldn’t have been able to claim another victim. 

Through the selfish, cruel acts of murders, many families and lives have had to suffer upon the hands of those that lack self control. If every other citizen has to follow by the rules, then those who commit the act of murder should face the consequences. Thus, answering the question of if murderers should receive parole. Taking the life of another isn’t anything for anyone to decide upon because a life is something that you can’t get back, unless its a miracle of chance. Either way, it impacts everyone involved in that person’s life and is too painful for the families to see the murderer only serve half of what the deserve. The loss of loved ones, causes depression, anxiety and other emotional and physical distress, so technology the murderer doesn’t just take one life but the whole family and loved ones.The courts and judicial system should highly reconsider this rule for future families to at least give the families’ some closure and real justice. 

Camille Pissarro was born on July 10, 1830, on the island of St.Thomas. Relocating to Paris as a young man, Pissarro began experimenting with art, eventually helping to shape the Impressionist movement with friends including Claude Monet and Edgar Degas.

Most knowingly famous for his drawing of landscapes, he found this to be the most interesting because he began to understand and appreciate nature for what it was. After a year in Paris, he began to leave the city and paint scenes in the countryside to capture the daily reality of village life. He found the French countryside to be "picturesque," and an amazing view that was worth painting. It was still mostly agricultural and sometimes called the "golden age of the peasantry. Though, painting landscapes was one of his most enjoyable portraits.

            As he got older and he began to reach the age where he was unable to do what he used to do. He cut his drawing time to only drawing landscapes during nice weather. He also began to teach his son how to draw and his son described him as a “splendid teacher”. Along with Camille beginning a talented painter, the rest of his family and the generations that came after him too picked up his talent as well. 

Journal #1

I do beseech you,

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,

As, I confess, it is my nature’s plague

To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy

Shapes faults that are not, that your wisdom,

From one that so imperfectly conceits,

Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble

Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

It were not for your quiet nor your good,

Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom

To let you know my thoughts.

In this quote, Iago is saying that it seems that Iago is indirectly telling Othello not to listen to him.

“I do beseech you,

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess,”

Though this is just apart of his plan, by telling Othello not to listen to him, this is going to subconsciously going to make Othello want to listen to him more. With Othello weakness, believing that most men are wise, especially Iago, this just makes more vulnerable in Othello's beliefs and confidence. This goes back to the plan that Iago has in stored by Iago maintaining his "innocence" and "trust" whatever Iago says such as:

Nor for my manhood, honesty, and wisdom

To let you know my thoughts.

Othello will support it and stand behind it 100%. Through this paragraph, Iago continues to test how far he can push Othello to believe him and how long he will continue to believe in his lies. This is paragraph, this makes Iago smarter, more cleaver, and even more powerful than Othello because it shows how much control he is able to maintain on him throughout the story. 

Journal #2

In Act 5 Scene 2, Emilia discovers that Iago set up everyone in the play. After her lady, Desdemona is killed but Othello, she realizes that she was unknowing, apart of Iago's plan.

As for her first hand observation, Emilia is seen as a woman who caters to her lady and seems to be a loyal servant to Desdemona. She is a considerate wife to Iago and doesn't show a sign of dishonesty nor dishonor towards Iago. She seems to be just an ordinary servant and loyal wife. 

Through second observation, Iago deceives everyone in the story by taking advantage of his known honesty and the trust they put in him. Iago deceived his wife by putting her in on the plot without her unknowingly helping her husband, to get Desdemona murdered. It began with the handkerchief, when she gave it to Iago, in order to set Desdemona up as if she was cheating on Othello, which made her look like a bad guy. Giving the impression that Iago that set up his wife.

As the story goes on, we begin to understand that Emilia's intention weren't as we suspected. They were the totally opposite. All Emilia was as loyal as she can be and she had a lot of love towards Desdemona, in a way that she didn't mind working for her and Desdemona treated her like a person and not so much a servant, which she loved about her. But in the particularly sense we see that she went against her husband, when she had the chance to stand by him, she instead remained loyal to her lady and sacrificed dieing by her side. In many ways her character is a lot like Desdemona's.

Journal #3

When Othello was growing up, he was the type of person that didn't have very much and wasn't acknowledged for his well beings because he grew up in the slave type environment. Though he may not have had the silver spoon lifestyle, Othello managed to maintain a leader like mind-set. This came from seeing how the men lived their lives. Meaning, since he grew up a slave environment, he learned how to become a leader from the male slave owner, sense men were known for being slave owners, unlike women. He saw how much power and control men were able to have over people and he admired this. He saw them as honest, true and dominant amongst the people. This is where, honest, true and dominant, which motivated him into becoming the general of the army and he can now dominate over those who once dominated him. 

Journal #4           

In my performance for Othello, the kind of tone of voice that I'm going to bring to my performance is going to be an intense voice because my scene is a scene where Othello has to kill Desdemona. One of the most important actions I have to do is strangle Desdemona. In this scene I have to have self- control and I have to bring intensity to the table. 

I'm not bringing a prop and/ or no specific costume.

One of the things that should make my scene stand out is the fact that I have a killing scene and this isn't just a quick stab or gun shot, but I have to strangle somebody and when you kill somebody with you bare hands, this is something that takes a lot of will power and a lot a strength (in reality). I was told that in order for my scene to stand out I had to maintain a

serious face, gesture and actions. With these tips, I think I can do okay with my part.

Journal #5

Yet I shall not shed her blood, nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, and smooth as monumental alabaster. Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men. Put out the light, and then put out the light.

This quote held a very valuable moment in the whole story because this is the scene where Othello is having a really deep debate with himself about wheatear or not he should kill Desdemona or not. This line separates the difference between Desdemona’s life and how the rest of the story will end. Through the decision of Othello choosing to kill Desdemona he, subconsciously, killed everyone else around him and involved in the lie that Iago told and Othello chose to believe. Throughout the whole play and story, this line was the most and important and was the key to everything. This sense proved that Iago had won and gained power over everyone.

During this line I thought that I delivered it the way Othello would have, with much uncertainty but understanding that this is the way it must end.

Over all I think that my group did a really good job, given the fact that we had such a powerful scene, which meant that we had to really give it our all and that we had to show that we can do our part the way it was meant to be portrayed. I think we delivered the best we could and I am proud of what we did, though I do think that if this part was memorized it would have been an even better piece of work because since this was such an intense sense, intensity can be really seen and deliver through eye contact, which would have really gave the audience something amazing. But even though that wasn’t portrayed, our tone of voice was set even on each scene that needed a specific voice and I thought that we did a pretty good job on the strangulation scene.

After doing this, it made me understand that Othello was tied between two decisions and two separate words, his wife against a man he put so much trust into. I understand that this wasn’t just a choice that could have been made up in seconds, but a choice that took time to understand and a very difficult decision. It made me see that Othello loved Desdemona as much as she loved him and him doing this made him have a constant battle with himself and his inner self. I’m glad I got to play the ending of Othello as Othello because thins made me get a clear and deep understanding of love and war that people will do to break others apart from each other and themselves. 

Its clear to see how our worlds have changed in so many ways but do we as teens understand the changes we make in our lives, so that you as our next generation, can understand that though we didn’t always make the right decision, we never turn a blind side to the problems around us, by understanding the problem, we should able to change our thinking and put ourselves on the path we always wanted to be on by knowing we were wrong and correcting our mistakes on our own. She also taught me that though we don't always choice the right path at first, once we get our head in the right state of mind, we'll be sure to get it eventually. Hopefully other teens who have faced the same issues and dilema have found their way and fully understand that the authority is only trying to protect us and it's our job to listen so that we may one day pass it on and if not then hopefully if somebody is watching you create your mistakes, they'll see what they must do in their lives to make it better the way it should be. 

“Proper” and “Ghetto”

Let’s be honest here, we all know that the way we talk in front of our friends is way different from the way we talk around our parents, teachers and other authorities. I know mine is. When I’m talking or texting my friends our conversations sound more like this.

“Yo whatchu doing today?”

“I don’t know, what you trynna do?”

Oh yeahh, that’s the language. This may look very familiar to some people. But we all know once we start talking to our mother’s, the conversation has to change to something a little more like this:

“Hey mom, what are you doing today?

“I’m not sure, what do you want to do today”

The difference is very easy to see. Why we do this, is very clear. It’s not that they don’t know what were saying, it all comes down to who you are. But why not talk the same way to everyone? When it comes to language, age, race and gender has everything to do with it. For some reason, when it comes down to speaking, everything changes.

Since I’m a teen, female and African American from Philly, people tend to think that my sentences should sound more like this:

“Hey, you know whatchu doing on the jawn.”

From my point of view, this can be seen as a stereotype but to others, it could just be the way they grew up and heard a person of these characteristics speak, which to them can be seen as normal. Now when others tend to see a person of the same characteristics speak more like this, especially to another peer, it could leave many shocked faces:

“Excuse me, do you fully understand what you are doing on this?”

This statement doesn’t say much but, it seems way better than the first sentence and it shows that this person may have more of an “educated” side to them, this too is a stereotype. By both speaking in different ways, someone could put the label on that the first statement is “ghetto” and the other sounds more “white”, when realistically they just have different ways of speaking. Now that they have both shown their speaking styles, their colors no longer matter, leaving them to now be judged off of their language. 

            As we all know, there are two categories of speech in this world. “Proper” and “Ghetto”. It doesn’t matter what language we speak, every language has these two categories. That’s just the thing, both of these things we’re not invented to be a type of speech, especially ghetto. “Ghetto” truly means a part of a city, a slum area, occupied by a minority group or groups. Not once did it say anything about language, so where did we get this from and why do we mostly use it to signify African Americans? The answer lies within the same reason people signify the term “That’s so gay” as a way of saying something isn’t cool or normal to them. Just as people don’t like that term, well black people don’t always like to be called ghetto. It’s all about the way people address things.

            When it comes to my speaking, I like to mix them all together. I don’t really have a particular language when it comes down to speaking to other people, I guess it all depends on the person and the kind of conversation we’re having.

Neighborhood friends:

“Yo, what time you coming out?”

“I’m not sure yet, what time you gonna be out

 I like to talk the way I talk but that can only happen when I feel comfortable, as of everyone. No one should have to change the way speak because their scared that someone will judge them by the way they talk. This is why I feel as though the way I speak is one of my identities., this is everyone’s identity when they take the time to think realize it. 

“What is that? I’ve never seen anything like it.” This was the first thing that crossed my mind when I saw the unusual looking creature with an odd stick. 

He was holding it very fiercely yet the focus coming from its eyes paralyzed me.

I’ve heard many stories about these creatures or as I should say humans.

Me and Foxy remain paralyzed with confusions and curiosity as to what the purpose of the stick was for. 

It seems to look like a stick but it was spiting something out of it, what looked like rocks and the noise coming from it was so loud that it exploded the inside of our ears.

“Whoah, what was that?” I just can’t stop repeating these words. “What is that thing coming out of the stick?”

When me and Foxy saw what it did to the tree, the rock going through the front and exiting the back, we knew that we had to avoid getting hit. Then we realized the human was aiming at us. 

At this point I’m really scared but yet still confused about what this is and what is happening. Why is the creature pointing that stick at me?

Ahhhh … another rock!

I gotta get out of here!

Galloping through the woods, I hear Foxy’s paws scatting across each leaf.

I feel her fear and confusion through every breath she takes as if we were both in the same mindset.

 I start to get tired but I don’t slow down. I feel my fear taking over my hooves and I feel as though my pace is beyond its average speed.

I hear something go off. I hear another one and another, but I can’t see them.

Wait … Where’s Foxy? The noise from the stick is so distracting that I forget to listen for Foxy’s scatting paws across the leaves.

I stop and turn around and see foxy nowhere in sight. I run back hoping that she just fell behind. I feel myself getting anxious as if I’m gonna see her face any minute now.

With every second I get more nervous and nervous. “Where is Foxy?”

I’m trying not to panic.

I see something that wasn’t there before. Red in the grass, I knew what it was but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t believe it.

It seemed like the whole world went silent, even the loud noises came to a stop.

“No, No, No!” “Get up!”

I knew it was no use. I faced a reality check that my best friend was dead.

As the tears formed, out of the corner of eye was both a tear and the figure of the creature, I mean human, whatever.

When I looked up, our eyes meet again. He has the same fierce look in his eyes. But this time instead of me being paralyzed with fear, I look up with the same intensity as him. We both had that same look as if looking in to a mirror.

Then he looked down and I looked to where he was looking.

“Why was looking at Foxy? I know he’s not thinking of taking her body.”

I couldn’t let him hurt me either though.

“Think, think, think! Think faster Bambi, he’s putting the rocks into the stick again”, I say to myself.

“Whatever, I’m going for it!

This is for you Foxy!”

I charge at the human with full force.

Once again something took over my hooves but this time it was ambition and vengeance.

My world goes silent once more but I continue charging.

With my antlers, I chug the human with all my mite just enough to knock him over.

He hits the ground with a hard force and I stomp on the ground so hard, he ends up dropping the stick.

When he got back on his feet, making sure he had his balance, he looked in my eyes and saw a familiar reaction.

This time the tables turned and I had the fierce look and he was paralyzed with fear and confusion.

The human soon disappeared with the trees and I turned my focus back on Foxy, as if someone popped me back into reality.

I walked over to her and see her lay there so lifeless and begin to blend with the stillness of the trees.

I place my nose on her cold body saying in my head “You’re really gone.”

A single tear runs down my face.

Suddenly I begin panting heavily but not because I’m crying.

My legs get weak and are unable to stand any longer.

I collapse and notice the warm liquid against my skin.

I look to see what it is and realize that I’m bleeding. I too have been hit, several times.

My heart begins to race uncontrollably which triggers my breathing.

As I lay next to my best friend I intensely look into her open yet lifeless eyes, knowing that I am dying and silently say, “I guess I got the invitation too.”

On blog 1 I discovered what I wanted to do my research on. On blog 2 I found numerous amounts of information on types of cases and stories that have gone unreported. I found it interesting to learn that the lives of most of these elders and patients have been put directly in the hands of their abusers.  Most of this information breaks many hearts but yet many people are also unaware that these attacks and abuse are happening.

After doing weeks of research, I have found and discovered that abuse does not have an age limit. No matter what age you are you can be abused. But I refuse to let this continue. Though I am only a freshmen in high school, I believe that just as anyone can get abused, anybody can make a change. I plan to encourage people on June 15^th 2012 to go out and contribute to the day of World Elder Abuse Awareness Day also known as WEAAD. This is a day to try and raise awareness for the elders around the world being abused. I want to send the message to all to go out into their community and visit nursing homes and hospitals to stress this issue that needs to be put to an end.

Some of the acknowledgements I would like to give is to those who have come together to give each one of these elders another chance at life and for those trying to raise and stress this issue through out the world. 

B. I found the negative space by just seeing the outer layer of the picture. The negative space is the the picture that seems to be the picture but it's really just the outline of the actually object.

C. I think it helps an artist because if an help you see your drawing in a different point of view or it can help you see a picture in an abstract type of view as well.

D. Yes because again as I said, It can help you see your picture in a different point of view.

 Quedrio Maryvic Fuentes,

          ¿Cómo estas? Me llamo Antoinette. Yo soy Filidelfia. Yo tengo catorce años. Mi cumpleanos es el viente y cautro de junio. Yo soy Africana Americana, mas o menos alta, y morena. Yo tengo el pelo carto. Tambien tengo los ajos café. Yo soy inteligente, bonita, comica, y simpatica. Me gusta la pizza, la salada, China y Americana. Me gusta la musica pop. Me gusta el baloncesto y el futbol Americana. Me gusta estar de vaga con amigas y mi mejor amiga. Me gusta tambien egstar de con mi familia. No me gusta estudiar, trabajoar los fines de semana. ¿Como eres? ¡Responde cuando puedas!

                                             Sinceramente,

                                       Antoinette Hiller