I think I'm going to make this next post about graduating high school. Because, come Monday, I will officially be on track to graduation... that is if Mrs. Rallison grades all my late work that I'm only just now handing in. I would appreciate that if you would do that soon please. But I checked my graduation requirements, and it turns out that I don't need this credit, so I guess I will still be graduating. But still, I would like to pass this class.
Maybe I'll have to wait 'til Tuesday though. I have to make up a quarter credit of English through EHS. And I have my Guided Studies class on Tuesday, so that's probably where I'll take the final exam. But maybe I can still do it on Monday, because I can always stay after school. That requires motivation... hmmm... Upon further thought, I think I will have to stay after school, because we're always running out of lap tops in that class. So I may as well stay after on Monday.
Okay, after that all I have to do is talk to Stacy about getting my NC cleared, then I can talk to my counseler (I really can't figure out how to spell that. There's a red line under everything I've tried.) and put my name on the seating chart thing.
And next Wednesday I will be walking. That's a weird thought...

The Past

What's something from my past that I can share...? Hmmm...
I suppose since I'm a senior I can reflect on the past four years of my life, because the next years of my life are going to be significantly different.
I suppose you could say I was something of a loner throughout high school... but I'm not really too bothered by that. I mean, I have friends - close friends - that I can talk to and hang out with. Though I only have like two friends... and one of those friends is my boy friend, so I'm not even sure if you guys would count him, but I'm going to count him anyway. But I'm not a total loner, I participate in a club and I even went to prom. Wow... that sounded pathetic.
I guess I've changed a lot through high school. And I guess that's normal, I mean the teenage years are meant to be the years where you find out who you are and who you want to be. I've certainly accomplished that, and I'm glad I have. I'm more comfortable with who I've become, even though not many others are, and I'm beginning to really enjoy life.
I think I'm going to miss how easy life is now. Living with my parents, nothing to really worry about except school. Now I'm off to college and I'm about to get a job. Yes, I'm getting my first job. Most get their first jobs as sophomores... I'm almost graduated. Ha, at least I'm starting somewhere.
Well, my life in high school wasn't too horrible, but I'm probably not going to want to go back. I'm ready for the next chapter in my life.

Creative Non-Fiction

Lately my family has been working on finishing our basement. My dad does most of the work down there as my family consists of four girls, plus my mom, and I suppose we're too weak and inexperienced to really do anything. While my dad is at his job though, my mom decided we should clean up the area so it was easier for my dad to work when he got home.

We pretty much just swept the cement floors and threw away any unneeded boxes or things that have accumulated over the years. As you can probably assume, me and my sisters got very bored of the chore, very fast. My sister Jourdan and I were entertaining ourselves by kicking each other, not hard, but enough to bug each other. We do this a lot, well I at least do this a lot to her and she likes to retaliate.

There was a lot of junk all over the basement floor, so this really wasn't a wise idea, and that proved to be accurate. I kicked my sister, and in an attempt to get away from her so she couldn't kick me back I face planted it on the hard, cement floor.

I kicked her in the butt, and turned away and ran, well I tried to at least. I didn't make but two or three steps before I came in contact with a pile of extension cords. Now these were heavy duty extension cords, this was like tripping over a slightly skinnier, but much longer, coiled up snake. This was sticking up about eight inches off the ground. Now as you can imagine, my foot got caught in one of the coils and prevented it from moving any further. But the rest if me was still very keen on continuing to move, and momentum carried me about four feet across the room.

I landed on my hands, but what got most of the force would be my big toe on my right foot. My foot landed perpendicular to the cement and the force of the fall pushed it straight down. I got up, though, like nothing happened and turned to find Jourdan was still looking away from me in about the same position as she was before. She was completely oblivious to what had happened, which means I didn't have to go through that ordeal to get away from her. It didn't look like she cared enough to kick me back. In fact, she didn't even know I had flown across the room until I told her, and she of course found the story to be very entertaining and proceeded to laugh at my stupidity.

Now I didn't mind the laughing, I was actually the first one to start laughing. I tend to laugh at myself more often than is probably healthy, and as I was injured I should have been more concerned about the well being of my toe than the hilarity of what had happened. Especially since my sock was beginning to feel a bit wet.

When I realized this I took my shoe off and found a red spot blossoming on my white sock. I took my sock off and found that half the nail polish I had painted on my toe the day before was absent, I found it in powder form clinging to the inside of my sock. Upon further evaluation, I found that my toe was indeed bleeding, and that my toe nail had come apart from the skin a bit, which of course is what caused the bleeding. I exclaimed something along the lines of “oh, look!” and pointed to my toe, laughing a bit. I thought it was funny, I mean half my nail polish was gone. My siblings and mom gathered around to look and backed away in disgust.

“How on earth are you not freaking out? I can hardly even look at it,” this comment came from my mom, who really doesn't do well with blood and gore. I didn't realize I was supposed to be freaking out, nor did I realize I was supposed to be convulsing in absolute pain. Well, this is what it seemed they were expecting at least. My toe nail was still attached and I was only bleeding a little bit, and I flew a good three or four feet. I though this was funny, but my family watched me in amazement as I walked up the stairs, perfectly normal, to clean it and get a band-aid.

To this day my toe nail is a bit less attached to the skin than what once was normal (though that's not saying too much, as it only happened a few months ago). I do believe, though, that it has made my tendency to get in-grown toe nails worse. I continue to, teasingly of course, blame my sister for my injury. Obviously she refuses to accept it. Regardless, we both find humor in the story.

revealing character

  I was in class. I don't know what we were learning about... I didn't even know what class I was in. I was staring at the board. The teacher was writing numbers and symbols with a blue marker, so I guess this was math. The marker was squeaking against the recently cleaned white board. Each harsh line imprinted itself into my mind and it turned into a form of meditation. The noises were distracting as I concentrated on each stroke the marker made.
  A tap against my elbow broke  my concentration and I flinched sharply away from whatever it was. It turned out to be a hand. A girls hand with red nail polish that was beginning to chip away from the tips of her nails.
  "Sorry," came a voice from somewhere above the hand. I looked up and saw a pair of eyes the color of a stormy ocean. The eyebrows above them were dark brown and pushed down in worry.
  "I just... I'm new and I don't know anyone. I'm ___," she held out her hand towards me. I looked down at her hand and stared at it again. I didn't know what to think, to say. My heart was beating unreasonably fast and my body began to shake. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.
  When I opened them again she was looking down at her assignment. She had pulled her hand away so she could write. She was frowning. I stared at her until she looked up, confused. I smiled at her, at least I think I did, I haven't smiled in a long time. She smiled back in any case and when I turned away I think I was smiling even bigger. I think I was smiling for the rest of the day.

Character Bio

Name:

Age: 17

Physical description: He has dark, long hair. It's unkept, messy, sometimes unclean. Blue-grey eyes. He's very pale, skinny. He always looks tired or sick, dark circles under his eyes. He tends to wear darker, very worn clothing.

Location:

Goals/desires: He wants to be normal. He wants a friend.

Weaknesses/insecurities: He's very afraid of himself. He is prone to have hallucinations and he never knows when they will happen, so he's always nervous and worried. He has schizophrenia. He doesn't know how to relate with people and others at his school don't understand him, so he keeps to himself.

Pet peeves:

Strengths:

Fondest/saddest memories: He really loves his father. He wishes he lived closer, he was the only one who he could really relate to. He had a difficult childhood.

Religion/world philosophy: He believes in a god, but he thinks he has abandoned him. He thinks if he can get rid of the dark, scary part of him he can earn god's love back.

Habits: He likes to draw. Usually he will draw the things that only he sees, his hallucinations or delusions.

Family life: His parents don't have an active relationship with him. He has an older sister, but she isn't around very often. His mother abuses drugs, and was taking drugs while she was pregnant with him. Exposure to toxins and malnutrition while in the womb increases the risk of developing schizophrenia. He doesn't get to see his father very often because he works away from home.

Favorite music/movie/TV show: He isn't very interested in the more modern forms of media. He prefers to read books, usually classics.

Embarrassment

Hmmm. Is it strange that I don't get embarrassed? I'm not really all that out going, and I'm kind of shy and quiet, but I really don't think I get too embarrassed...
I don't really like attention, but it's more of an uncomfortable feeling when I do. It's not as though I'm afraid of doing something stupid or what people will think of me if I do... Honestly, when I do something stupid I probably get the most humor out of it. And as for what people think of me, I really don't care. I don't know them, they don't know me, why should I worry?
So really, it's not embarrassment that causes my dislike for attention, it's just that I feel uncomfortable when I do. Maybe it's because I hardly ever get noticed, so when I do it's weird and I don't know how to react.
I also have a problem with feeling emotions, so maybe that's it. Embarrassment is an emotion.
I kind of wish I did feel emotions though, including embarrassment. Embarrassment is completely normal, and I would like to be a bit more normal than I am.

This is a poem that I wrote a while ago that fits with this week's theme "courage".  I think it takes courage to be yourself, no matter the consequences.  The idea of courage/strength doesn't express itself until the end of the poem, but I think it fits the theme well.  It's untitled for the time being.  That's one thing I struggle with - naming my poems.

What do people think of me?
Am I different, weird, or dark?
I wonder who it is they see,
Do they see a broken heart?

I wonder if they judge me,
Are there opinions, unexpressed?
Are people displeased with me?
Do they think that I'm possessed?

I wonder how much I differ
From the normal, happy world.
I wonder if others suffer,
If they've felt their fingers curl.

I've been told that different's good,
But it seems it's always bad.
I'm always in a lonely mood.
I'm ignored, and so I'm sad.

But is it worth this wasted ink?
Does it matter who they see?
Should I care what others think
When I am pleased with me?

So I don't care if I am judged,
Though I know I don't fit in.
I'm myself and I won't budge
And I will lift up my chin.