Typical Teen
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
new article
http://www.monroemonitor.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=755&SectionID=2&SubSectionID=27&S=1
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Continued
The room did not pause, Andrew did not leave. No. Instead he walked straight to the front of the room and in his hand was a picture of Alice Cox. He showed everyone in the class, and yells again. “This perfect girl, my perfect girlfriend is dead she is gone and it is all her fucking fault!” He picks up a sixteen year old government book and throws it in my direction. Luckily for me I was sitting in the far back of the room and the book thudded right before it could even hit my desk. This time he walked out of the room. He was crying, screaming, hurt, angry, confused; when Andrew left the room his feelings spread throughout the classroom.
My classmates were not concerned with the fact that Alice Cox is apparently dead, oh no in high school it is not the victim that is talked about. In high school it is way more interesting and ‘juicy’ to talk about the guilty or accused.
“All they care about is which people slept around it’s like high school for grown ups.”
Everyone in the class was thinking selfish, no one concerned of the lost of a classmate, but I have no room to talk. My thoughts were swarming just like the bees buzzing through the hive; through these chaotic thoughts I knew it, I knew I loved Andrew. Selfish that is me. I just discovered that this girl I knew is dead, I do not know how. I do know that I did not kill her. I believe I would remember being a murderer, why does he say I killed her. I did not kill her, I barely know her. I did not fucking kill her, I couldn’t I wouldn’t. But my thoughts and blank expression of confusion and depression did not change my classmates’ attitude towards me, every single one of them looking at me as though I had a bloody knife in my hand and a crooked smile.
More Atmosphere lyrics sprang up as I looked out the window and watched him walk the lonely walk to his car, his head down, his thoughts interest me. I want to be the one he shares them with; instead to him I am a murderer.
“Shoulda known better not to fuck with you
Ain't got nothin' but too much to lose
Lost in the rush, don't know what to do
That drug got you like I want you”
Before Andrew even passed the window the loudspeaker came on, the loud beep that became a usual nonsense to my classmates actually brought silence as we anticipated the announcement.
Did Alice really die?
How could people believe I killed her?
“Attention Cedar Crest students we have horrible news about Alice Cox…”
NO! It was true she was dead, gone. If that much was true maybe Andrew was right. Could I have been her murderer? Was there an actual possibility that I could go as far as killing a girl because of jealousy? Could my own jealousy make me forgot the incident all together?
“…last night Alice passed away only at 17 years old. Please would all classes have a moment of silence and a day of respect for the lost of this beloved and dedicated young woman.”
The moment of silence lasted nearly the entire class period; the only noise was made by Chris Randy playing with his sculpture of paper clips in the front of the class room. Even when I could hear my friend Tani whispering my name I could not, would not lift my head up. Looking straight down at the desk I could still feel the eyes of all my classmates’ burying into my head.
I wanted to leave run away, far away. We all have those moments in high school when anywhere seems better then here; stranded on a deserted island with nothing seems like a good vacation at this moment. But for now that bell ringing, stating it was the end of 1st period was good enough for me.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
My Atmosphere
My Atmosphere
Begin at the beginning, do not skim for you will miss the most important words and keep reading until you reach the end. At that point then stop.
I did not know why but when I woke up this morning I knew I was going to have the worst day, and not my typical horrible outfit, fat day worst day. No officially the worst day. The morning started like every Monday morning did; I woke up earlier than usual trying not to wake up my best friend whom I shared a room with, I actually was able to take a warm shower since no one was awake yet, I popped my daily pills, dressed in my usual jeans with a basic Alice in Wonderland shirt, and took a twenty minute back road to school.
This was my daily Monday routine; I would arrive to school at seven in the morning fifty minutes before the dreadful high school classes began. As usual the hallways were empty and the only people ready for the day was the old librarian and my teacher Mr. Henderson. I walk to his room to finish the school newspaper; our Monday mornings consist of the same conversation every week.
“If you were more dedicated of an editor you would not have to come in every Monday,” he tells me.
Mondays......
“I come in every Monday morning because I am dedicated.” I respond every Monday when this comes up.
I finish exporting pages 1 through 6 of the 12 page newspaper and walk to my first period just before the second bell rang.
I had government which was dreadful enough alone, but the thought that every single day until the final day of graduation I would have to sit right behind Andrew Hart. When I would think of him Atmosphere lyrics would swarm my head and I would think of all the possibilities I had to not fuck up.
“Because you look like the way I feel when I’m with you.”
I got use to being ignored by Andrew when I walked into class, but today was different, he wasn’t there. Andrew did not miss school, he wasn’t the smart guy, first one in the class prepared already starting the daily assignment but he was always there and always there before I was.
Mr. Hoff opened with our government’s right to search private property and the process of getting a search warrant, I was almost thankful that Andrew was not there so I can keep up with this class. Failing any class this semester puts me into the category of super senior and like the junior class would welcome me as the stupid girl who steals boyfriends.
Bam! Andrew opens the door, wide open banging it against the white board.
“You fucking killed her,” he screams.
I did not understand was he screaming at me? What the hell did I do, I was so used to him ignoring me and making ignorance his tool to keep out of trouble. He starts to yell again and this time makes it clear his yelling is directed towards no one else in the room but me.
“Burn in hell¸ go take your fucking car and drive off a bridge. Overdose, cut yourself, please just find a way that I will never have to hear your voice or see your face ever again. Leave this world, fucking leave!” he screams. It looked as though he was leaving, everyone in the class was in a state of shock the room seemed as though everyone was part of a freeze frame and this was the time when someone would walk up to the screen and explain what was going on and the scene would continue. But this was not a show or movie; no readers this is high school, sometimes it seems more real than the real life that surrounds us daily.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
New Articles (:
http://www.monroemonitor.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=211&SectionID=2&SubSectionID=27&S=1
and.....
http://www.monroemonitor.com/main.asp?Search=1&ArticleID=195&SectionID=4&SubSectionID=29&S=1
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Oh Yes!
Polly Keary: First, let me say thanks for really good work. You are perhaps the best young journalist I've worked with. Second, we ran out of room last week for your work! It will appear next tuesday. Great stuff. Third, do a piece on the student! It sounds like a good story.