I can’t imagine why my mom would do this to me. Taking a new job in a different state. Making me move, and making me start a new school. The only reason why she took this job was because of my dad. It was all his fault. He pulled me closer behind his back. He was about to die for me. This was strange for me because nobody would risk their life for me. Not in this situation. Not when you knew you could die. I was scared I didn’t know what was about to happen. I was trying to keep a positive mind. I only tried to be positive because the tiny door cracked. Tiny, wrinkly, green fingers with long nails poked through and more joined in. I knew my only friend was about to be stipped away of his life. I was living in New York before. I had two parents who loved each other, …show more content…
“Not that long ago, actually. I was just like you. Curious about that tiny door. Until I opened that door too.” He paused for a moment looking up wondering if I wanted to hear more. “That place isn’t as wonderful as it looks. It’s actually a horrible place to be.” I noticed he had his hand wrap around his wrist. He was hiding something. “That’s when it caught me. It bit me, so now i'm slowly turning into one of those things.” He lifted his head and removed his hand from around his wrist. His wrist was like the color of the live grass outside. I walked over there to stand in front of him. We both sat down on the floor. “Tell me more about these things” I whispered softly. We both sat there on the dust covered floor for an hour him telling me about what happened. There was strange noises coming from behind the door. He glanced over to look. I saw what he was looking at. Fingers poked through the cracks in the door. Forming more cracks. “Start standing up slowly, turn away, and walk up those stairs.” He whispered without looking at me. “I mean it start slowly walking away.” I didn’t want to leave him there not after what he had told
The boy reached for his blanket and covered half of his face in fear. The footsteps continued, getting louder every step. “It’s just mom and dad” he told himself. “No need to worry.” Footsteps were heard getting closer and closer to his room door. LOUD but slow, fear was uprising into the young boy’s heart. Suddenly they stopped and started going away.
He reached for my hand again to help me across. At this point Haleigh was topping the stairs and he was adamantly telling us to be careful and watch our steps. I began down the stairs with Haleigh and Mr. Shepard following me. Mr. Shepard asked if I needed to inspect his office and I replied
I heard a blood-curdling scream and I jumped. I felt silent tears running down my heavily scarred face, but they weren’t out of sadness. Mostly. They were a mixture of pain and fear. I ran into the eerie, blood-splattered room and screamed as I felt cold fingers grab my neck.
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
One of my friends called Kendrick fall off a clef and he was hanging on to a branch, with one hand and I was the only one who was able to help because, his mom and dad were still un-packing and he was playing with a ball that I gave to him in his birthday as a joke. At first, I thought he was just joking but, he stayed on for a long time and then I knew that it wasn't a joke so, I had to go to him and pick him up. I was scared to pick him up because, it was very risky for me and him because if I managed to fail to get him back to his feet, then he will fall, or if I did something wrong I would fall with him. Lucky his dad saw me trying to help him and he ran after me. Before, he got to me, I manage to get him to touch his stomach in the floor, he was also bigger and heavier than me so it was hard but his father held my back so than I pulled and I was scared if I would loss grip.... A few minutes I closed my eyes, my heart rushing, blood popping through my vines, I felt I was about to have a heart attack, pieces of me imaged I would lose a friend. When I opened my eyes, I saw him crying he lost the ball. I touched my eyes with my hands. I felt tears rushing though my cheeks and Kendrick's dad was glad that he was still
He went into the bathroom and shut the door and locked it. He stood at the mirror, and looked, and the need to damage himself took over. All he could think of was hurting himself and how to do it. He picked up his father’s razor. It was an old-fashioned one, the kind you open. He opened the razor and looked at the blade. He knew he wouldn’t feel it if her were to stick it right into himself – but the sight of the blade stopped him for a second. It had a power about it, the strength of the forbidden, and it was fascinating. It was beautiful.
Picking me up, he walked over to the lawn chairs - which we had put on the balcony since no one in my family likes the feeling of grass on our feet. Sitting down I was struggling to get out of his arms and he said, “Do you want to know what kind of cave that is?” No longer moving, I looked up at him with wide eyes and nodded. “It's a bobcat cave,” he said with his dark brown, almost black, eyes sparkling from the sun. I gasped. That was the coolest animal I had ever heard of. Even though I didn’t know what it was, it excited
I exclaimed, happy to see him. “Hurry we have to go I saw your dad running out the door after me” I started off again, running at full speed. I am now backing to where I started in my story. After a while of silence I finally stopped and collapsed on the ground, “I can’t go any further!”
The reason I got sent to alternative school was because I brought weed to school. I had the weed because some friend gave me the weed on a Saturday and I told my friend I had it. I told him I was going to get rid of the weed because I had no need for it but, he told me to give it to him. I gave it to him on a Thursday morning and he got caught by Officer Massy and Mrs. Early. They came to my class right after 2nd period and took me to Officer Massy’s office. Then he asked me about the incident and I told him everything, I stayed in the front office all day. I believe this placement was fair because now I won’t do this ever again and I’m going to learn to make better choices in the future.
His other hand found truth in retrieving a serrated combat knife from its holster at his thigh. The stench of wet dog only rose his suspicions of the intruder and what might be waiting for him. The same floorboards creaked under the weight of his boots, taking his time to balance his weight and make his way to the lone room with what little light still remained within the home. Broken glass cracking underneath while objects in disarray were moved out of the way. Strewn about were Chairs and desks in what seemed to be a scuffle, his gaze switching about the practically unrecognizable den. This was until his boot did not make impact with the floorboards nor any hard surface from before. Something soft. With a collective halt, his amber-colored gaze descended to the item as his boot switched from atop it.
Switching schools is one of the scariest things anyone could do. It requires an insane amount of strength to go through with it. You completely uproot yourself. Leaving everything and everyone you know. It's a daunting task for even the most social of students or teachers. Back in my eighth grade, my peers and I had to all face that. My old school only went up to the eighth grade. Which meant every single one of us would have to branch off and journey to a new school. There were only about five boys in my entire class. But they were all going to schools where you needed good grades to get in. Me, I wasn’t much of a student. I was far worse than I am now. In fact, since I automatically graduated, I never cared enough to do the work. And somehow I managed to get past their repercussions they had in place for students like me. So I went through the year and I didn’t do much. I even did a whole assignment that was supposed to take all year in one day. In short, I was a terrible student. Which also meant I couldn’t go to the same school all my friends were going to attend. Which was depressing to say the least. After all, I’ve never been great at the social aspect of life. Especially back then. So this whole thought
At the time I made assumptions about how it would be a fresh start on my life and I would earn another chance to redirect it. Me making the decision to move away from what I was a custom to all my life, it was a tremendous step for me, but I knew it was for my own good. So I moved to a house north from where my home town was and began my fresh new life. I attended a new school, which gave me a chance to choose new friends. Although my father and I had our disagreements, we built a father- son relationship that I needed to help me along with deciding my future. He gave me life lessons I never knew I would have ever needed. Overall, moving with my dad ultimately helped me and also built back a relationship with my
‘Did you call me? ‘I was wondering if you’re okay.’ He turned towards her only to see her grey pale face starring back at him. He moved closer to her, but not enough to touch her. He could see her anxiety and distress. He wanted to get closer still but she stepped back and turned from his peering eyes, asking multiple questions at once. He retreated slightly, enough to reassure her. She did not want him to intrude but she knew she had to release the build up that was taking place.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
A first day at a new school can always be scary and nerve wrecking. Starting a new school can seem as if making new friends will be almost impossible. In the end a new school calls for new experiences and new friends.