A NEW PAGE by P. Ringon
It’s been two weeks, and I haven’t made any real friends. It’s just that, I feel as if no one likes me. Sure, I’ve talked to a few people, like Jessica and this really hot guy Chase, but I’m starting to feel lonely again. I mean, I was captain of the cheerleading squad at my old school, and was one of the popular girls. Diary, I just don’t get it. Well, whatever, I’m way too tired to keep on writing so, let’s just hope tomorrow will be at least a little different from the norm, that I’m slowly getting used to. Until next time.
Carissa woke up the next morning and carelessly stumbled out of bed. She looked in the mirror and thought no wonder no one’s really talked to me, I look like crap. Despite her morning thoughts, she and everyone else knew how gorgeous she actually was. With her hair done, face fresh, clean, made-up, and new clothes to show off, she headed out the door and jumped into her car. She sped down to the nearest Starbucks, just like she did every morning. She finally got to school, still getting used to how different things looked compared to her old one. Carissa was still not used to her dad’s line of work, even though it was the fourth time his company had transferred him.
Following the same routine she had been going through for the past two weeks, Carissa sat in the courtyard and read one of her favorite novels, The Joy Luck Club, and sipped on her brand-name cappuccino with extra whipped cream, hoping that someone would take interest in her and maybe even spark a new friendship. Carissa was reading …water had turned a deep golden color, and then red, purple, when she was suddenly startled by someone who knocked over her cappuccino.
Without even looking to see who did it she blabbed out, “Look! You need to watch where you’re going, Loser.” Carissa looked up and suddenly felt her heart sink and her face turn as red as an apple. It was Chase, and before she could even begin to apologize, he jumped in saying, “Oh, damn. Hey, umm, it’s Carissa, right? I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Here, I have a Starbucks ‘ccino, too, and I didn’t even do so much as breathe on it yet.
It was a dark, rainy night. Anna was driving alone on the wet streets of Portland, Oregon to her parents’ house. Her windshield wipers were waving like crazy, and her headlights were not shining bright. When then she knew that all safety was lost, in this closed off forest, in my small car. The radio was screaming fun jazz music to lighten the mood. Though Anna was tired and weak wishing for the drive to be over. Little did she know her life was about to change, for the better and worse.
'Compare/contrast Faulkner's 'Dry September' with 'A rose for Emily' in terms of writing style and character presentation.';
March 1, 2001 5:39 p.m. - Nerves, nerves, nerves…how can one letter enclosed inside of an envelope determine so much? Michael Livingston had plenty to lose. Try four years of undergraduate school at Morehouse University, two years of Notre Dame graduate school, and Harvard Law. Yes he had plenty to lose. Walking into the door of his closed-space apartment, he sits down with the letter in plain view. Thump, Thump, Thump! His heart races like greyhounds at a race track. The time is here. The time is now. Michael opens the letter to find his results of the BAR exam he had taken…
To have complete and thorough knowledge of who someone truly is, is quite similar to being present in their mind at all times, experiencing and comprehending every passing thought which they have. Digging through the masses of thoughts which are embedded within the layers in their brain. Having through knowledge of someone means to know their deepest and innermost thoughts at all times. Knowing someone to the fullest extent is quite comparable to understanding their thoughts and emotions which they may not necessarily choose to voluntarily share with others. The short story Seventh Grade portrayed the struggle of thinking that you truly do know someone to the greatest level. This short story depicted the experiences of Victor, a young adolescent
Clera couldn’t help but to smile at her father’s light-hearted words and cheerful tone. Closing and locking her diary, Clera followed her dad out of her bedroom into the brightly lit kitchen. Clera had always loved the floor-to-ceiling windows in the kitchen that allowed natural light to diffuse throughout the vibrant room. Chris always used his free time at home to find a new way to improve the penthouse. Clera’s mother and Chris’s wife, Aubrey, admired the amount of effort her husband put into furnishing, styling, and renovating their home. In contrast, Aubrey herself had never been viewed as “creative”, she was a unique kind of different as one might say. Although she had a love for the creative arts, she extinguished the idea of pursuing her passion in them a long time ago for reasons her herself only knew. This morning however, Aubrey was focused on her daughter’s first day of high school. Did she feel sad for her? Possibly. Moreover, she hoped her daughter’s high school experienced was better than her’s had been.
I pulled up to the front door of the two story house that glowed with the orange and yellow sunset behind it. With every slow step I took the thought of the Spencer and Lauren not liking me became more surreal. They were only two and four, but somehow their opinion mattered a lot to me. I got to the front door step and I admired the bright purple and red tulips that were flourishing in the lawn, and all of a sudden the door swung open. “You are early,” my future boss, Jennifer said with a surprised look on her face. I had not noticed, but she was right, I was twenty minutes early. When we met at the Arlington Heights Memorial Library she mentioned that she was always running late and that is was something she needed to work on.
It was about one-thirty in the morning in the town of Homestead Michigan. The almost florescent light of the moon bouncing off the fresh puddles that covered the ground. The grass and trees were covered in a thin layer of water causing every little beam of light to reflect back up. Anyone who may have been outside at this time would have without double, smelled the mix of fresh dirt and night crawlers. As the moonlight started to fade away through the cloud cover, three buses made there way through the streets and parked in front of HHS, the local high school.
Julie’s dreams never worked out. She had dreams of going to college, but that fell through. No money. Was it her fault that the economy took a nose dive and no one wanted to give her a scholarship? Julie was going to graduate in the top half of her class. But, then she’d missed one final exam. Did she ask to get the flu or to forget the date of the makeup exam? Work for living, meet the right people, and take advantage of your opportunities. How she hated the advice she got from her parents. Well, this was where Julie drew the line. This was where she would set herself apart from the crowd. No more Loser for Julie. She was going to be the best Executive Assistant in the world. And, she was going to start today.
Catalina glanced around the quiet room. It was still dark because of the cloudy skies. It was like London in her village, always cloudy. Catalina rubbed her eyes and slid out of bed. Her feet softly brushed against the cold, hard wood floors which sent chills down her spine.Catalina was a wire-thin, beautiful, fourteen-year-old girl. Her soft, bouncy hair was long; it came down to her hips. Her eyes were dark brown like the wood of an oak tree and her hair was silvery-blonde. She was tall for her age, but she was still short in the eyes of others and Catalina was alright with that.
...me to school a few minutes early. She was wearing her usual, a T-shirt and jeans. As she walked through the hallway she didn’t hear anymore mean names. Nobody tried to make her fall, or embarrass her at all. Instead she heard a “Hi” or “Hello” from every few people she passed. She said hi back to all of them. Why is everyone being so nice today? She thought. She met up with Zack and his friends, who had all, began to like her. The day went on as normal, at least normal to everyone but Analise, who loved her new life.
There was a girl named Kandy, she was 15 years old. Her life was extremely boring, all she ever did was go to school, go on her computer, eat and sleep. She spent all summer on her computer. She was really good with HTML and spent her free time making web sites. Kandy didn't have many friends and rarely talked to guys because she was shy and unconfident about her looks. That's why she went into chat rooms. She made a web site with pictures of herself on it and told people in chat rooms to go there. A lot of people would tell her how pretty she was and some would say she was ugly. That made her feel awful. When anyone would say anything nice to her, she wouldn't believe them and think that they were just making fun of her. She only had one real friend that she could talk to, her name was Ang.
Lana stood frozen, her fists clenched and her eyes squeezed shut. After a moment she slowly opened one eye, and then the other. There was shattered glass all over the lobby reaching as far as the stairs. She looked down and saw the chandelier on the ground around her. She had slipped right through the hole in the center of it.
The pretty researcher walked up to the shack where he supposedly lived. Wendy had heard many stories about the scourge, but she had never seen him for herself. He was a local legend, and she had decided to do her thesis on this obese male. She knocked on the cheap wood door of the shanty, and the door fell off. Wendy anxiously tried to pick the door up, but before she could pick it up, a high-pitched bark came from the dark corridor of the hut. “It’s alright, girlie. Just leave it and come inside.” She complied quickly, stepping inside. The stench was almost unbearable, a mixture of rancid sweat, rotten food and flatulence. She tried to hold back a small moan, but failed utterly, as she stepped cautiously across the floor strewn with garbage. The scourge was reclined in a La-Z-Boy, his face cloaked in shadow. He spoke again, and the girlish voice was a shock.
Charlie woke up on one morning from a rough sleep, feeling like he did last night, not knowing where he fitted in the world. Everything was changing around him, the technology was getting more advanced, the music had more meaning and fashion started to kick in. It was a dark and cloudy Monday morning in Sydney and Charlie was getting ready for school, when he sat down on the edge of his single bed with his covers untucked and half on the bed and half on the fall, Charlie started putting on his school socks. He was still pondering the question that kept him up last night “where do I fit in this world?”. Charlie thought to himself “is anyone asking them-self the same Question, should I know where I fit in?. After pondering this for ten minutes, Charlie had to leave for school. While in the can on his long trip to school, his mother was listing to the radio, she turned the music up. Charlie sat listing to the song with him head on the window of the car and looking out at the house’s, kids walking and talking to their friends and other cars passing them, when he started thinking about the lyrics to this one song, once again he thought to himself “do I fit in ?, should I be a part of this generation ?”. He knew when the song stopped that he had to start finding where he fitting in the generation of the 60’s