The light from the sun reflects off the pure white wall, illuminating the room. The dust floats, undisturbed by the empty house. This is what I see as I launch myself out the door, into the hot summer air, into the sounds of playing children. I was four, I was carefree, I was full of life. Outside, we were free to do anything. My cousins, sister, and I could do whatever we wanted. The thoughts slipped through my mind, quick as a flowing river, and I did not have a care to catch it. All I was thinking about was a way to satisfy my immense and never ending curiosity. As my feet stepped onto the warm cement road where my cousin Isaiah was crouching and inspecting the ground, I asked him, “Hey, what’d yah find?” Prodding the rubber asphalt that filled the old cracks of the road, he looked at me and seemed amused at his discovery. “The road…” he paused dramatically, “It’s squishy.” He says this, looking as though he has found the best idea in the world. I’m amazed by this discovery too. Squatting down, I poke at the asphalt with my finger, leaving an imprint of my finger that slowly pushes back to its original shape. I laugh, the feeling of it is curiously addicting. The rubber feels like bouncy play-doh, pushing back against my fingers. Isaiah and I are hooked. We spend all day experimenting. We put ants on it. We put grass on it. We see who can pull off parts of it. As the sun shines harshly through the clear Wisconsin sky, I resolved that it was too hot to continue. “Isaiah,” I say, wiping the sweat off my forehead, “It’s too hot, I’m gonna go inside.” He stands up, brushing off his pants. “Okay, we can play tomorrow.” We both say our goodbyes and tramp to our side of the duplex that our families live in. Entering fr... ... middle of paper ... ...e ball bouncing off my racquet, the thrill of a great hit, it made me love tennis. My mind stopped wandering as Jon hit the ball back. Accidently, instead of hitting the ball with my racquet, my free hand catches it. Jon laughs. “Oops.” I say, grinning. The rest of practice goes on, and at the end of the day, we depart for home. The memory fades as I sit down in the bus, looking out the window at the Minnesota sky. I brush my eyes awake, feeling the cold seeping in from my window. It’s 9 AM and it’s winter in Minnesota. Feeling sleepy, I stand up and go outside. I love the winter air. It always refreshes my mind and there’s just a cold bite to it that I enjoy. Coming back inside, I boot up my computer, hoping to enjoy it a little before heading out. The winter days swim together, phasing throughout my mind, and I fall asleep again, or I have woken up.
Deep breath, icy wind flows through her nostrils as her eyes drift closed. Silence the mind. Silence the obnoxious chatter. She shouldn’t think of that awful exam, she tells herself. She shouldn’t worry about how hurtful someone else’s comments were to her. Deep breath. Hold. Her shoulders slump. The wind howls around her, snow falls lulling the world into a dreamscape. Finally, there is silence. Goosebumps grow upward on her flesh, a shiver shakes her back, but there is no response. The cold has no effect, she is finally at peace. Mind empty, focusing on the now, she breathes until her body is relaxed and her mind is content
It was similar to the suburban street I grew up on, but in lieu of cookie-cutter houses with stale Bermuda grass, there stood wood cabins with yards covered in snow. The reddish-orange light emanating from the towering street lights pierced through a white fog and gently illuminated the area. Exiting the car, I was overwhelmed with a flurry of new sensations. The gently falling snow absorbed all of the sounds I was used to hearing in a residential area.The low hum of passing cars, birds singing from the trees, and the sound of blowing wind appeared to be muffled, even silenced, by the steady falling snow. I felt enveloped in a cool, but somehow familiar blanket. The smell of burning wood was coming from every direction, as each house I looked at had a thin, grayish plume rising gently from the chimney. The plumes represented the warmth and comfort of the many people I imagined to be nestled by the fire. Looking down the street, I noticed how freshly plowed it was. A thin layer of snow and ice-- like icing on a cupcake, or the glass top on my parent’s nightstand-- covered the street. But on the side of the street sat a pile of snow that could have swallowed me alive. Feeling taunted, I stood there and weighed my options. Chest deep mounds of frozen crystals begged me to dive in and lose myself. Preparing to succumb to the temptations before me, I was momentarily hindered by the fear of my parent’s wrath. But had that ever stopped me
I stepped out of the chilly November air and into the warmth of my home. The first snowfall of the year had hit early in the morning, and the soft, powdery snow provided entertainment for hours. As I laid my furry mittens and warm hat on the bench to dry, I was immediately greeted with the rich scent of sweet apple pie, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and the twenty-pound turkey my mother was preparing for our Thanksgiving feast.
Well, after many, many grueling hours, we finally arrive home! The trip is over and it was amazing. I cant’ believe how fun it was. I unpack my stuff from the inner surface of the van. I walk up my stone sidewalk and to my wooden front door. I wait for my parents to open it, and then I walk home and smell the familiar sent of my house. I get settled in. I get out of my clothes into new ones. I settle down, and I shortly go to sleep. The trip is over, and it was great.
As I walk into Hazen and begin my high school journey I think to myself what I want to accomplish when I leave. Hazen is like the older sister I never had, someone who you hate occasionally, but look up to and pushes you to achieve your personal goals. As I walk through those Highlander doors I was immediately surrounded by the brightest minds, talent, and innovative bunch of my generation. Each one unique and each one having something special to offer, and I soon realized that I want to leave high school like I was never leaving. By making the most out of my high school experience I want to gain maturity and the satisfaction of knowing I made a difference in my school and community. By becoming a member of the National
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
The big day, it was finally here. Two weeks of training on my own and putting in extra effort to sharpen my soccer skills, all for a two-hour evaluation. Sure I’ve been to soccer tryouts before, but I’ve never been to one where I’m so nervous that I could pass out. After a little pep talk from my dad, I was ready to go. I pulled my tryout jersey over my head and set off for the deep green pitch. As I approached the other girls that were already passing, juggling, or just talking with their friends, every single one of them turned their head to stare. Of course, there were other girls that didn’t belong to Sc Waukesha and were trying out, but nobody even glanced at them. Everyone's attention was on me, and I didn’t know why.
I looked at the tickets in my hand, and then imagined the smile on Joshua’s face as I handed him a new guitar. I quickly put the tickets up for sale on the internet, and in less than five minutes I had an offer. A girl messaged me and said that she would give me $20 more than asking price. The girl and I met at the local music store, and she gave me the $200, and I grudgingly handed over my two BTS concert tickets. The girl thanked me and walked away as quickly as a cheetah, like if she didn’t I would change my mind and take the tickets back. I finally walked in the music shop, and I looked around at all the guitars before finding one that was blue and black, two of his favorite colors. The guitar jumped down from the shelf and into
I step into the hall of my home in Chicago, Illinois, and into the kitchen. Rain cascades down the windowpane, such has been the case for much of Novmber. There is a plate of spaghetti Bolognese waiting right on the counter for me. I heat it up, and take it to my study, letting the aroma waft right past my nose. Turning on the stereo, I settle back in my leather, over-cushioned armchair with a long, relaxed sigh. The stereo always starts on Classic Rock radio station. Hard rock, that’s what I love best. I open the Wall Street Journal, sub-consciously listening to the music in the background. Bliss.
The car was hot and stuffy when I slipped back into the driver's seat. I found the most depressing music I owned and drove out of Glenwood as the sun started to set. Two more hours until I was home, two more hours of thinking what a terrible day I had gone through, and two more hours of cussing myself for being so naïve. The drive was a long one.
What high school has taught me about being a person is that you have to do things when they are given to you. Don’t wait on things to finish by themselves, because they won’t and before you know it your falling behind and everyone is on you asking constantly if your going to graduate or not. I used to be a very quiet person, like overtime I went to school as a younger person my teachers would often think that there was something wrong with me and told my parents they think that I am “special” like I needed classes for kids with disabilities. But this was not true, I just would never talk to you unless I got comfortable. But high school has taught me that this world if not for people who keep quiet, and that to make it you need to talk to people or you will be left behind. And this just comes to me as a senior, I wish this new me came a lot more sooner. I feel like if I was who I am today is way better than who I was just a year ago.
We then turned off the driveway, making sure to roll down our windows, so we can breathe the fresh mountain air, at least until the next time we come back, and once again start the bumpy road home.
I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.
Rolling waves gently brushed upon the sand and nipped softly at my toes. I gazed out into the oblivion of blue hue that lay before me. I stared hopefully at sun-filled sky, but I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get through the day. Honestly, I never thought in a million years that my daughter and I would be homeless. Oh, how I yearned for our house in the suburbs. A pain wrenched at my heart when I was once reminded again of my beloved husband, Peter. I missed him so much and couldn’t help but ask God why he was taken from us. Living underneath Pier 14 was no life for Emily and me. I had to get us out of here and back on our feet. My stomach moaned angrily. I needed to somehow find food for us, but how? Suddenly, something slimy brushed up against my leg and pierced my thoughts. I jumped back and brushed the residue of sand of my legs. What was that? As my eyes skimmed the water in front of me, I noticed something spinning in the foam of the waves. Curiosity got the best of me and I went over to take a closer look. The object danced in the waves and eventually was coughed out onto the beach. “Emily!” I called to my eight-year-old daughter who was, at that time, infatuated with a seashell that she found earlier that day. “Come here and see this! Mommy found something.” Although I had no idea what that something was and I definitely didn’t know it would change my life forever.
The sun was still below the horizon but the clouds above the mountains were tainted the color of pomegranates. Around me the shadows seemed empty. I tried not to look into the brush as I walked down the driveway. I had stopped before, looking to see the back of the shadows; staring hard, only to have them retreat from my eyes indefinitely. Invisible birds called from within. Their sound followed me down the driveway and onto the road.