Final Project-Holdens Style

The Goddam Lines

Man I gotta tell you, why did the world have to create lines, it kills me. You know when you’re waiting to get something really awesome and all, but you have this a mile long line in your way to ruin your day. I had some experience myself, there was once this huge goddam line in my way, and all I wanted was just to get a goddam drink from this lousy cafeteria, and I had to wait for every 4 hours, just for the line to move and inch closer to the check out. I nearly died of thirst just from standing there, and I wasn’t even thirsty when I finally got up to the cash register, I really wasn’t.

The world is filled with jerks and all, their everywhere apparently, but I bet about half of the worlds morons stay in lines just to annoy the hell out of you, I mean it. Once there was this kid in my school, Didi something, who would always skip the line and then afterwards, act like an innocent jerk and say, “What I didn’t do anything,” anything my ass. man I hated his goddam guts, he was a huge sonuvabitch, good thing I left the school or I would suffer of starvation, every day of the week, just by waiting in line, but sooner or later I would have punched him right in his crumby guts which would make him hit the goddam wall, I would have probrobly get expelled afterwards, I wouldn’t have done it thou, I’m yellow like that.

Anyways, always at the end of every line, there is always some jerk in the cash register, talking slow as hell just so he can annoy you. What phonies. that’s not all they do too, they also like to show off and do all these things you wish could be doing instead of standing, foot down, on this crumby floor for a half hour.

Man I wish you could been there so you could really know how I feel, then you would know how much I feel like just leaving the line, after about 2 hours of waiting, and let them laugh by themselves, then after that we could go have a drink and all, and forget all about those morons.

Actually, what I really can’t understand is how the hell does a line form anyway? I know that a sometimes, a line forms when someone takes about too dam long on the bathroom and makes this huge lousy line just to go to this crumby bathroom and all, it kills me. It mostly happens in the girls bathroom thou, sometimes you can see about a mile long of girls just waiting to take a leak.

Some lines aren’t even lines, their just a big huge maze that takes about an hour to finish. They put these big huge whatchamacallit, and make it go left and right just to slow you down so the people outside of the line can point and laugh at you for no goddam reason, what a bunch of lousy morons, why can’t they just make the line straight? Their just annoying as hell, more than Didi as a matter of fact, at least were shearing the same fate.

You know what I really wish I could do, I wish I could just go up there to the whoever crap that started the dam line thing, grab him, then force his head into this crumby wall so it would be able to make a hole, and do it for about 10 times until that jerk have his head split open and get mental problems, then Id probrobly go to the bar and tell everyone about it, but I will probably go to prison after that, but I don’t care much, I wouldn’t have done it anyways.

But if you think about it and all, sometimes, in some occasions, there’s always someone good at the end of the line and all, someone that’s actually working, except like those phony’s who don’t know what the hell their doing, but still get paid and all, it kills me. Anyways, there was this one person at the end of the line, that is smart as hell, and does everything correctly and all, and he would put everything in order, and then act nice as hell to you, it’s really annoying sometimes, but at least their making the line walk. I would probably tell you about that time about this man named Jesus, he was nice and all.....But I probably won’t, you wouldn’t care anyway.

Mindless

Me encounter with Holden wasn’t really as I expected it to be. I was walking around New York,  clad, in a black sweeter, and I was getting  pretty dehydrated , I was actually pretty avid for something simple like a subway or whatever. As I turned to enter the shop, I bumped into this guy, and we both fell down to an excruciating pain in are body. I got up pretty slowly, I kind of thought I broke my back or something. When I got myself up, I helped the poor man to his feet, as you have noticed, I’m a pretty affable person.

“Goddam it”

He said in a very brusque way, you could tell that he is a pretty irascible kid.

“I’m so sorry, I duding mean to...”

“Forget it”

He said in a tremulous voice

“I don’t care anyways”

I gave his red hunting cap back, witch fell when we bumped into each other, he slowly put it on, and then silence broke out, and he started staring at me for about two minutes, and when I was about to leave, he asked me a question that is despicable to me until this day.

“he wana go get a drink”

“aren’t you a bit to young?”

He looked young in my opinion, looked more like a 16 year old.

“Nah I’m 25, see my white hair”

I didn’t really believe him, but the kid looked kind of demean and I was bored, and as I said before, I was really thirsty, so I said yes, and so we went.  He took me to this old and crumby bar, where they gave us this old and dirty table for us to sit on. I felt like ordering some sparkling water, a cheese sandwich and a piece bread, but all he had was some whisky and nothing else. After we ordered, he told me his name was john smith somthinging, and started a huge tirade about this guy from his old school, and started calling him a sonuvabitch for about an hour and would always pivot the conversation every now and then. I felt like I was going to die of boredom, so I told Him I had to go to the bathroom and washed my face and stayed there until he was gone.

About four minutes later, I gingerly opened the door, just to see if that madman was still there, and boy was he their alright. He was talking to this other guy who I didn’t even know  and about two minutes later, the stranger then got really mad about something and then quickly left the table followed by John.  I was so happy I was finally able to extricate from that abhorrent child. Spontaneously, I found him walking on the side walk, pretending to hold his guts, and was also making a gun sign with his hands.  After that crazy moment, he went limping to some Phone Booth nearby and was talking to some person asking for some band-Aids. I realized that there was actually a problem with his head, not his guts.

I ran away after that, and I never saw that boy again, and it I hope it would be the last. I think that he pretty much lied about his name, because he looked pretty drunk. After that I realized he was just a lonely, young boy who probably has a hard time living, until now, I think of that boy. I’am , as you probably noticed, a very caring person.

The truth about Vigan

Lots of you out there

The ones who don’t have to sit with him

To listen to him

To sit with him

To eat with him

To embark on a new school life with him

To live with him, to live with a Vigan

And I’m here to depict my new life with a gamer

A gamer like Vigan.

In the lunch room

He would still from this day

Stare at my food with disgust

And make a small ughhhh like a moaning deer after he’s been shot

And his annoyance would grow in profusion

And he would flap his arm like a flying bird just to annoy me

And would pilfer my food when I leave his presence.

I would have to be conscientious about sitting with him in class

Or I would end up listening to hours and hours about his mutiny

In Medal of Honor

Or talk about collecting stupid colourful hats in Team Fortress two

And rankle me in many ways

Or I will be audacious to sit with him and see if one day he would talk about life

Vigan is a gamer

A gamer

 who can be so prudent at maths

A gamer

Witch can be slovenly when it comes to talking

A gamer

Who will never have a serene manner when it comes to games

A gamer

Crazy

Cookoo

Childish

Like a madman from Tall Tale heart

A gamer

Who turned out to be my friend

(this poem was accepted by the gamer himself)

Th’ Biography of a boy

None like any other

Staring, Standing on Thomsen hill

Wind blowing on his face with the force of a tornado

Watching

The claps, the bangs, the crash

Of the football game below

Thinking

Waiting for a sign

A sign of goodbye

Family

The ones who left him alone in the dark

Brother

The one who brought him light.

School

Crashing, falling, failing

But only one survives                                                                            

The one when his reading skill’s combine

English.

Catcher and the Rye

Where the words have secrets

Secrets that might open the book

And tell its true meaning

About the Boy

And his life

Living with a pig named Ackley.

Going to the movies, sitting, chewing popcorn one by one- Imagery

Fencing, clanking swords all around you- Imagery

Living the life of a 16 year old teenager

Inside a mental institution.

The Boy Who Saved Baseball

 the Boy Who Saved Baseball by John.H Ritter was written for fans of baseball, and to people who hate it, like me. When I had to choose a book, I was trying to find the easiest and the shortest book I could find, and The Boy Who Saved Baseball caught my eye. After I signed out the book, I realized that it was only about baseball. At first I thought the story would be boring, tiring, and that I wouldn’t understand anything about the book. When I started to read, the book wasn’t only about baseball after all. It had lots of action and mystery about what’s going to happen next after each paragraph. The main idea of the story is that the whole towns fate is rested in the hands of a small baseball team called the Wildcats.

The plot of the story is really easy to follow. The story is about Tom Gallagher (the protagonist of the story) and how it’s up to him, and his small team of baseball players. They have to spend several days training with one of the most famous baseball hitter, to hopefully win the small league baseball game and save his town from being torn down by the developers, and also find a mysterious boy along the book. The protagonist of the story, Tom Gallagher is the captain of the Wildcat’s team and the nicest of them all, but he is also the shyest and he doesn’t speak much throughout the story.

The protagonist mostly spends his time writing in his journal, and thinking about the mountains, the people, and how good life is instead of speaking to everyone. The narrator expresses the characters feelings towards what Tom thinks or what Tom writes and sketches, not by expressing him by his verbal tone, as shown in the following example. “You sure are quiet.” Tom nodded. “That’s what everybody says.” “What are you thinking?” “I don’t know.” Tom was the happiest when he could sit silent, be the observer, the notice of small details, the sketcher. (61). in only 3 sentences, the Narrator could describe us perfectly of how the character feels in his daily life. Another important character in the book is Cruz De La Cruz (the mysterious boy I was talking about earlier.) Cruz came horse riding from a far off town until he came to Dilltown to play in the legendary Lucky Strike Field, in where many famous players came to play ball. Cruz’s relationship in the book was to teach the players to believe in themselves. Before Cruz came, they thought they were dead, but then he thought them valuable lessons that can be used in their lives to help them win the game.

The message that the author is trying to give throughout the book is to never give up. He doesn’t really show it in the context, but you can realize it while you’re reading it. For example. Tom starts out all depressed and thinks his team will lose and everyone would blame him for it, but then he starts to realize how much effort his team is putting in their training, and how the players starts to hit the balls more harder and faster, this sight made Tom start to believe that there is a possibility of winning. He says how kids our age should start working hard to get to new heights.

In my opinion I would give this book a seven out of ten, because in some parts of the story the author should give you suspense and make you want to turn the page around and see what’s happens next, but sometimes you would already suspect that would happen, and it would be kind of boring to read. But despite those minimal problems, the book is written with great detail and it’s a book in which everyone can enjoy.

 

My Mother

Is the sniper who watches her victims.

My mother is the doctor

 The god of the house, the leader, the cook, the hero, the firefighter

She is the teacher of the house

The wizard, the sage.

She would be the goose that travels around the world

Exploring new places in her big beautiful feathers.

She would be the dark green in the mood ring.

And be the meteor witch crashes the house when she is ignored

Or be an atomic bomb when people don’t do what she asks.

My mother would be a solitary rock when we all leave the house

Turning her into Bill Gates when she goes to work

Or she would be the Picasso when ideas hit’s her mind

And draw the monalisa on her canvas.

My mother would be the priest, the prayer, a sister.

That would light up candles in the church.

You were the statue of judgement

You knew the right from wrong,

The good and the evil,

And always find the responsible.

Because of you. I have learnt to be the father who would take care of his children.

Because of you. I have learnt valuable lessons; witch will be my guide to the future.

Because of you.  I now know who to trust, and who to avoid.

Because of you. I have my own map, to guide to places I want to go.

Because of you. I am the sound of music

Because of you. I am who I am.

Because of you. I wouldn’t know who to write about.

23 things you might not know about me

Today I would like to tell you a few things about me that some of you might or may not know or you’re just curious about knowing it.

1.       I like to do knots on my hair when I am thinking or when I’m bored. I don’t know why I do it, I think I just like the feeling of it.

2.       Every night I read a comic book of Uncle Scrooge or Donald Duck to help me sleep.

3.       I sleep with the lights on (not because I’m scared of the dark, it’s because I feel comfortable under the light).

4.       When I watch horror movies I always close my eyes for the entire film.

5.       I am sometimes too lazy to revise my work, so I just post it as it is.

6.       I hate surprises (especially scary ones)

7.       I never know what to do when I’m bored

8.       I always stop think about life when I’m in the shower

9.       My first kiss was from a fat girl in my school. We both touched our lips when someone pushed us together (read “My First Kiss on my blog if you would like to know more about it)

10.   Every time I wake up on Saturdays I think it’s Friday.

11.   I once caught a bird on flight when I was 3 years old.

12.   I’m not that much of a TV person, but I like watching two and a half men, Senfield and Big bang theorie.

13.   I think winter is the best season of all.

14.   I never feel cold (only in history class).

15.   If Vigan tells me tomorrow about the new “medal of honer open beta” thing,  I will punch him in the face.

16.   I hate horror movies, but I always tell my dad to rent them.

17.   I hate going miss meadows and show her my work, even thou I need to.

18.   I hate talking in front of the whole class or presenting something to them.

19.   I used to think Dexter was a comedy show.

20.   I just remembered that I forgot to give Miss Trius my brochure.

21.   My favourite holiday is Christmas.

22.   I celebrate st. Patrick’s Day even thou I’m not Irish.

23.   This is my first time doing this type of confection so I have no idea if I did it right.

Well that’s 23 things you now know about me. Hope you enjoyed

goodbye's

I was playing in my computer, and having fun with cousins. Doing what we do best; playing games. It was the time when I was 12 years old, living my life in the Caribbean. Where the waves hit the shore, and where with only about 15 steps, you would be already touching the soft surface of the yellowish sands. It was a good but small life, but it would all end in about 4 minutes. While I was playing, my irascible mother came across the door, with a depressed expiration in her face, “we are moving to panama”. Those 4 words was the reason my life changed forever, that would mean I had to say goodbye, which means I would have to meet new people, new places, and new life. That left me completely despondent. When I told my best friend about this, he would stay still in horror and make a tirade about how that was wrong and why did I have so early. I was expecting that.

The last day, I had to say bye to everyone I knew, which I hated, because I have moved for about 3 times already, and I hate  when people just ignore about what’s happening and just see me go away forever without any hugs or even any goodbyes while I fly away. But it was different, they actually felt sorry for me, after 3 years of ignoring how I feel; they actually felt sad that I was going away. I got group hugs, goodbyes, songs and even kisses (not the chocolate ones the ones you get on your cheek). I was really profound by it. I hit me in many ways, I had never felt so special like this before, and then I realized something, I had realized, that is never so bad to say goodbyes, only if you have friends that care about you.    

Dad

You have seen my birth.

 You will keep me till death.

You would cheer me up when I’m sad

You would help me in life when it comes

You would make me laugh as loud as a drumbeat

You would be my partner in crime.

Even though you would fail when you try.

You would always make me smile inside.

You would be my yellow

Happy.

Joyful.

Friend.

I’m stitched by your love.

When I look at a book

And remember your stories

The memories will whir inside my head.

I would jump on your shoulders

And you would be my legs

You would do anything for me

Because that’s what fathers do.

Your mom’s house in the beach

Would make me remember what you had done in the house

And what you have become

The Picking pears grandmother, would be you for me father.

After all the years that have pasted.

Even if you go.

Th’ memories would be mine.

The good and bad times.

With me by your side.

Me being the son.

You being the proud father.

Rocking birthday

Yes, some of you have known that yesterday was my birthday, and I’m finally the same age as everyone else (13), and I want to share it with you in slice of life Thursday. The day started normally, I woke up, feeling any different, and did my normal routines, and then I realize it was my birthday when I was almost done putting my school cloths. I was too tired to celebrate, so I wasn’t like jumping up and down and screaming “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME” like I used to do when I was 5. My mom and dad said happy birthday, and I went rushing out before they said anything else. I came downstairs waiting for the bus, like any day when I was 12. I got on normally, and I was happy that no one was screaming happy birthday -because I also feel stupid when they do that-, but when I got out of the bus, was a different story.

I got inside the building hoping that everyone forgot and that the day would be smooth sailing. I got in the wolf when a bush of girls started hugging me out of nowhere. I felt unconfterbul, but I was happy they remembered. The rest of the day was the same, but with a lot of hugging, happy birthdays from every single classmate, an awesome card (from who I won’t tell) and to my surprise, school was actually fun! I came out of science class in a hurry to go home and start celebrating, and see what my parents got me. I came out of the bus and surprisingly, I found my mom’s car past by, so I went to my house with them. We all had dinner and we ate an AMAZING DQ cake (witch I’m going to get a piece right now) with my favourite type of ice cream. Then the rest was boring. I had to do English homework AND I had to study for the math test today (yes, I still got work on my birthday).

The end of my birthday was the best part yet. After I took my relaxing bubble bath, we all went to eat at Hard rock cafe in Multi Centro. The whole reason I went there was because, 1, I have never commemorated my birthday in a restaurant. 2, so I could listen to music while I eat. 4, because I have never seen the hard rock cafes happy birthday song. What I was ecspecting was an awesome song of my choice and a whole band just singing happy birthday, but what I got was nothing. So when we were done, I had to hear my mom talking to the manager say about why her son didn’t get what he wanted. You can tell I was embarrassed. At the end, I got what I wanted (not what I expected), so I left happily thanks to my mom. Then a day passed and now I’m 13 years old. Feeling the same. Doing the same. Just like good old times.

why I hate fans

Why do people go crazy for pop stars? In my opinion, these people dont know whats their doing. They think their whole life is less important and amiss then the lives of Justin bibber, Jonas Brothers and every band out their witch is super famous. There are some people (like me) who when they enjoy the songs of a famous band he just goes and buys one of their CD’s like any normal person, but SOME people let the bands haunt their minds and do anything to listen or even to see them sing, this just leaves me completely despondent about their lives.

 I’m not just sorry for them, but I am also sorry for the stars that have to live with these kind of people. They’re just normal people like us. They live in a house (big house), they go watch a movie, eat, watch TV, but sometimes when they try to be normal, they end up with a whole crowd of crazy fans grabbing their clothing like a swarm of zombies, trying to touch parts of their bodies and then telling everyone else what they had done. That’s why some stars become recluse  or drug themselfs out because they cant live like that forever.

These people also don’t communicate with their normal lives. They spend their whole day making ugly posters for their stars and they spend the money they should be spending on food and helth, but their out their using it on tickets and VIP passes so they can meet their favourite people. Also one thing I don’t get, Is way they like to be around crowds of people for about 12 hours. That’s a reason why I don’t like going to consorts. I hate being in crowds of people, especially with fans of the show.  Another thing that annoys me is how some stars are affable with their fans, but some of them abuse their fans in a cruel way, and hide it so fans dont know. They don’t even care how the fans feel, they just impel people to listen to their songs and they fake it by saying how awesome their fans are and how the best thing about their career is about being with their fans. I could see that their lieing by the tone of their voice.

I had seen one of these fans. Once when I was in the Taylor swift concert in the Bahamas, There was a huge crowd of people trying to touch her body. There were people touching her legs and her feet, and I know she didn’t feel confterbul with it. In the end of the consert, I also found a babe in a cowboy suit, being hold by his own MOTHER in the middle of the other fans. I don’t know how he didn’t cry and I don’t know what kind mother would dress up her 1 year old baby in a cowboy suit. I would abhor with the sight of it. And that my firends, is the reason why I hate fans, and you should too (only if you are one).

love to travel

I want to confess how much I love to travel. I’m not one of thus people (like max) who only like to spend their whole summer vacation with a bag of potato chips on their lap and the TV control on their hands. I only do that on a school day. What I like to spend my summer vacation, is to go out and find something new. I love going to see new places and their most seen monuments, like the Eifel tower in Paris, or even maybe the big Ben in London. I also like to go to places where they never keep up to modern generation, because I like the feeling of walking on old towns or exploring old castles from a long time ago, I feeling like I’m going back in time, or maybe even being in one of those old folks shoes.  But I’m not only interested in old stuff, I also love going to science museum. I love seeking rockets and all those things, but the best thing about those types of museums, is that you can experiment with the objects around you. You can make magnets come together, you can make a rocket powered by water pressure, you can also see your own heat vision. But the best part is when I learn new things as I meet new places, learn about their coulter, see the countries heroes. That is why I love to travel.

born to create

There was this one day of my life, that I couldn’t take much boredom. I had watched all the movies in the cinema. I had finished all my homework. I had completed all of my video games. There was nothing I could do, but sleep. Sleeping is the last option on my list, so all I could do, is sit and stare at the white, innocent wall. “I had to do something” I thought for myself. I couldn’t do anything, I was too lazy and to bored to repeat anything I did that day, so I realized I should try something new. I realized I should try filming. I am growing up so I spend most of my day watching YouTube videos or just going out to watch whatever movie I think will be a hit, so now, I tried to do the same. I got the first thing that caught my mind, cowboys. I then started doing it; the lines, the characters, and the story-- everything a good filmmaker needs. I showed my dad his part on the movie, and he looked really proud of me. He liked seeing that I was making something and not just staring at the TV all day. Making a movie was great, I could pretend I was someone else. I could put myself in another situation, and I could create things with my imagination. From that day on, I didn’t stop making movies, I made movies from horror to drama and adventure to romance, and I also started making Lego figures and making movies with them. I then realized. I was born to create.

"To My Mom"

I used to be calm.

I used to hug her tight on her legs.

I used to nod with everything she said.

I used to light up her life.

I used to have fun with her.

I used to be nice.

I have seen the fireflies on the night sky

But darkness is what I had become.

Her eyes would flood with tears when I go out with my friends at night.

I see sparks from her hair as I turn up the volume.

 She shuts the door when I look at the bright light

Of my computer

I ignore her advice and end up in fights.

I insult her which words witch I throw like knives.

She would slam the table with a BANG.

I could feel the fever of her rage like a drumbeat

We would scream for hours.

She would grab me tight by my hand.

And would look at me with the face of a thousand volcanoes.

The grimace in your face cut my heart.

 We have come apart.

Those days of love are over.

I have ignored her.

I have changed mother.

And now I’m struggling.

I have turned.

Into darkness.

Mad.

Alone.

Heartless.

HELP!!!

Daniel B.


Mount Everest

Cave 123#, Bigfoot Street





Dear Joe Bouzas



I have been living in these mountains for quite a long time, and I’m feeling kind of lonely, and I’m scared of the anonymous figure that walks around my house every night. My conjecture is the figure is the abominable snowman- the famous monster we always used to talk about when we were kids- I’m trying to extricate from this fear, my mission here in these mountains is to espacially find the monster and capture him in sight, but every time I see him, I end up failing, and and hide in the corner and suck my thumb like a baby. you know can’t contfront that monster alone, I need your help. You’re the only one I know who’s from my generation, and that knows how to help me better than anyone else.

I know how we always used to pretend we were adventures out on the mountains, and you would always the bravest and kill all the monsters before me or be the first one to climb up. I had always appreciated you brave disposition, and now is the time for you to use it. I hope you understand how imperative this is, I hope you still have that courage of yours, I haven’t seen you for so many years, I forgot what you look like. I’m inside the cave located in the mountains which encompass the village, the biggest one in the middle, come fast, I can hear his footsteps comming closer............




From your cousin

Daniel Bouzas

needles

I was a little kid. It was my second time here in the hospital of Sao Paoulo, I was going to take another one. Another one of thouse shots when the shove a needle into your skin and and you can feel the cold metal inside your arm while they suck out your blood cells right off of your body, like an annoying mosquito. I dispised (and also mosquitoes). That’s why I it took 5 minutes to take me out of the car, thats why they had to pick me up, bring me inside the hospital, and strap me in a chair to untill the doctors call my name. I looked around at other kids, all calm watching the mini TV that is located in the room, not knowing of what will be comming next. And me, sweating, heart pumping, going crazing, and making stuff up to get me out of the horrible place as soon as possible, but it was too late, it was my turn.
I passed the hallway of hell as I heard  the scream of terrified kids as I passed by the doors. And there it was, my room, waiting for my doom.

 I went throw the door, with my hand squishing on the hands of my mother, and there was the doctor, holding the needle, just to get me afraid before I die. I sit down in the seat, terrified, and before he could stick it in my arm, I slap her in the face, falls to the ground. I had killed the murder. Well not really killed her but it hurt her. The next thing I remember was another doctor coming in, and a sense of pain in my right arm. I’m still terrified of needles, and I can’t stand looking at them inside my flesh, but now that im  more mature, and I try to ignore the pain so I don’t suffer as much.

Easter Hell/The beginning of a war

Monday, September-06-10



They were all coming. The whole generation of the Bouzas coming to join a fine dinner in Easter Night. Celebrating Easter is imperative to my family and to my whole country. People buy these delicious chocolate eggs that give an anonymous gift inside every egg, which gives us rainbows in every present. We party all night and have our tummies full after a long night of BBQ and traditional fish. In my opinion, Brazil is Easters main city, but this Easter, was like hell to me. Everyone came to party, my grandparents from my mother’s side, the grandparents from my dad’s side, and my uncles from my dad’s side, my cousins. Everyone came, but some people were missing. Everyone was here but my mom’s brother. We waited and waited, but they never came.

My cousin Victoria walked slowly to my room, with an upside down smile stuck on her face. She lay flat on the bed, crying, because her father had missed Easter. I sat their beside her, trying to calm her down with slight strokes in her hair, when a scream came from the hallway. That’s when it all started. It was my uncle on the phone, I was happy he was alright, but there was a twist. My mom was mad because he didn’t come because of her wife at the hospital, of course she understands why he can’t come, but the problem was that they didn’t even make a call, or even tell their daughter what was going on.

My mom was infuriated, her disposition changed to calm to extremely mad, she was mad at my brother for not doing anything, and her mom was mad at her from getting mad with her brother. That night we were all quiet, nobody talked, only us kids who were playing GTA 4, talked among each other. From that night, my mom never talked to her brother, and I almost never see my uncle so often. We used to always play together. Me and my cousin. But now it’s over.

my normal mornings

Today started good. I woke up from a great dream about man eating flowers. I got up, sat down at my bed for 1 minute or two, forced myself not to fall asleep, and went to the bathroom. I sat down and accidentally fell asleep again, but woke up with the sound of an angry tiger. My mom.

I got up, got dressed, trying to ignore the annoying sound of my mom’s complaints while I gingerly put my cloths on while and listen to “dynamite” on my iTouch. I went to the kitching, with the bowl of cereal waiting to get eaten. I eat it while I read my unread homework, and go to brush my teeth. I got in a fight with my mom (every day she screams at me) I know she started it, but she won’t admit it, she always screams at me when I wake up, she says I’m getting too grumpy, but I know it’s not true.

I wait a half a hour for the bus and checking my stuff as time goes by. I get on, grumpy, annoyed. I sit next to a kid, he tells me to leave, so I sit next to my other friend, who I starting avoiding this week since he always plays with my Itouch. But today was different. The battery had died so we played with someone else’s (I don’t know how we got it, I guess it was luck). Bus ride to school is normally boring, but today was pretty fun, he wasn’t that annoying today. I get to school (late as always) and go to my Spanish class to begin begging my Morning torture. My mornings are always the same, and I got to say, it’s a drag.

Darkness

Just like any four or five year old kid, you would always get afraid of the dark. You would scream and shout when the lights go out. You would shiver and tremble of the sounds when the trees would scramble, and you would hide like a rat from turbulent storms. When you grow up, you forget those problems, and you would sleep in the clouds like any other teenager, but for me, I still have those problems.
 I’m not as scared as I was before (because I used to be terrified by the sight of darkness,) today, for me, darkness means something else- gruesome, despicable and electrifying.

But with a bit of light, It can wash it all away. When I was young I would think light was supposed to disintegrate vampires, burn lost souls and keep zombies away from my room (I still hate zombies, just from thinking about them walking around the city with me as the only survivor freaks me out.) But the real reason that the light is there. It’s to shine my night. And I still do it today, now the light is not only to shine my night but it’s also there for me to read at night. Instead of my just reading a bit and forcing me to read, I just read till I fall asleep.

I washed my hands

Because

I was frightened.

Because.

I could feel the bug’s, slowly crawling in my hand.

Because.

I was shaking in fear

Because.

I have touched the floor.

My hands brought me to the sink. Like they were my masters.

The masters made me turn the tab. So they can wash their troubles away.

I felt better, safer, and Healthier.

The steam of the hot water blew onto my face, while it drowned and burned the bugs off my hands.

Since that day on, every time I would touch something despicable, my furious masters would make me wash them.

It was like this nonstop, I would be exhausting.

I would take hours and hours of precious time washing my hands.

I was their slaves, not to be able to do touch anything.

Until one day.

I decided to stop.

My hands were dying.

I had just touched a part of my wall.

They were begging me.

Making me wash them.

But all I did.

Was ignore them.

Then they died.

I was free!

Then I had never washed my hands, only when I’m supposed to.

Not when I’m forced to.

The Scream In The Night

the witness point of view




It was late at night; I was reading “Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of the Crypt”. I was falling asleep; almost ready to close my eyes and enter the magical world of dreams. Suddenly, the gruesome scream of my next door neighbor electrified me in many ways. What happened? Was it a murderer? Was it a cry of a cat? Would it come after me? So many questions flying across my head. But the main one that caught my attention was; is he alright? I surmise that it was just a heart attack, but the sound was so real; I wasn’t sure if I was right.



I made a cursory search for my black coat and made my way out of the door ; at about 3 a clock at night, alone, clad in a my favorite coat, running to corroborate the scream. I tip toed gingerly towards the old man’s house like a black knight. the room was so dark I could'int derive what I was seeing, I chould only see  gruesome shadow standing next to the showdow was a man in the bed, sleeping with a dark pillow on top of him, he had succumbed. I ran as fast as I could to the nearest police station, leaving tears everywhere as I ran.

When I got there, I was completely dehydrated, I could feel the abrasion on my throat from breathing hard. I told the story to the police man, and I could see they were trying to corroborate it. I talked, almost out of breath; I told them that I had derived who the mysterious shadow was-- my psycho friend who would always stare at the old man’s eye, and grimace as if he wanted to take it away, he stared at the eye like he was a mad man. It was four o'clock at night, I made an endeavor attemped to build up courage, but I finally magaed to show them the house. I hid myself  close to the window, so I could see what was going on. I was confused, they were talking! he had brought chairs and everything and they were having a nice little chat.I chouldint belive it, they were having fun while I stand here, scared to death, dehydrated  to know what will happen next. But then I realized something, we was getting pale. VERY pale. he started to talk faster, looking down at every word. Then it happend. He lifted his chair and strugled to take out one of the planks. I fell down when I heard, "Villans!", "dissemble no more!" I admit the deed! here, here, it is the beating of this hideous heart!" And then I knew. I knew I was right

My first kiss

My first kiss


I had never experienced this in my life. It’s a disgusting and horrible story to tell. But here it is. I was 5 to 6 years old. I had just come back from my amazing trip to Las Vegas. One of my friends (who was a girl), would always come after me, and hug me to death. Many kids at that time used to think that me and jannel (that was her name) used to love each other. Well. Maybe she did, but I didn’t, because for me, she was just a big fat ugly lady (even though we were friends). So one day, when recess was over, when we all went to class.

I was getting to the door, when suddenly, I feel a light push behind me, and I find my lips. Touching. The soft and squishy of another, it was her. I don’t remember her reaction after that, all I could hear was the sound of laughter of the kids around us, and me, trying to take that awful saliva taste off my mouth. It was awful. Beside all of the laughter, I couldn’t take imagined that I kissed a fat person! I rather kiss a cute girl as my first kiss instead of having that thing for it. Then, saw him, the person who caused all of this, my worst enemy. John. Standing, pointing, making fun of me. Now he’s still my worst enemy, but I’m glad that his far, far away from here, in the small island. Of the Bahamas.

my new life

I was 3 years old, Sao Paulo, Brazil, coming back from a great day at school. I used to love school. Three years old, no home work, only a full day playing with your best friends, with no tests and nothing to get worried about. I also liked Brazil; I always used to think it was the best place in the world, with no problems and that every day was a good day. But it all changed, the time I got home. My mom got a call from my dad, as usual; I would just ignore it and keep doing what I was doing. But this time, it was important.


My mom came in the room with a sad look at her face. I was worried, I thought somebody got injured or DIED or something, but I was wrong. She looked at me, “Danny”, she said, “Were going to live in the Bahamas”. From that point my life changed forever. This meant I had to make new friends, learn a new language, and might mean more work. I felt sick, I never rode on an airplane before, and I almost never left my house. I was going to miss all of this, my life was over, I was done. I’m moving to an island, one that nobody even knows about, this was excrutienting for me.

It was the last day, I said bye to my friends, by to my home, and bye to my whole life. We left a day after my birthday. The airport was amazing. I never saw anything like it. There were planes everywhere, and there were lots of places to eat too. We finally got on, it was like a big straight hallway, filled with chair. But was surprised me the most was that there were even TV’s on the plane. This was the life. When we got there, it was like a paradise. There were beaches on every part of the island, no more 8 hour drive to the nearest beach. And our house was amazing, it was big, and the beach was just like 2 steps away.

I never saw a place like this. At school, I didn’t know how to say a WORD in English. So I pretty much just walked around saying hi to everyone I saw. But as time passed by, I started to understand it more, and i could say new words like, what, where, here, this, that, and so on. I had a blast! I learned a new language, and now I could speak to anyone I see. Also I can also have a better future, because more job’s require English speaking people. And now, I’m not afraid to go to new places, like England, America, Canada, and now, panama! I love this new life, and I never want it change.

messed up words

Every time i wirte, it looks like it was hit by a hurricane. the words are all out of order. Some would be flying out of the line, but the others would be standing perfictly still.

Other words would look like it has been steped on over and over, making them all cracked up and out of place. Some words would even look like other words or even numbers. Some are just illegable.

This year I hope to work on my writing. When people look at my writing the always think about the oppisite about me, and it also makes them care even less about my stories, when they see it. to prove it, just look at one of my sotries on my book, and you'll see all thouse flying, borken up, small little words.