3rd Per. 2018-19 YGA Autobiographical Entries

Dream Big

By: Savanna Landrum

 When I was in 3rd grade, I had many dreams. One was to star in a play. At my old school, we would always have a pep rally for the CRCT. Each grade level would compete to see who had the better spirit for the CRCT. Third grade, for the most part, always did something like a play. Fourth and fifth always came up with something different to do.

 As we were leading into the CRCT prep months, the third grade teachers got together to discuss what to do. They decided to do The Wizard of Oz. Sadly only a couple of students were needed for this play since the teachers are going to be characters. The only main role to be played by a student was Dorothy.

I was sick with an upset stomach on Monday, but my mom wanted us to go to the school  to see what I had missed. As I was walking into my language arts class my teacher, Mrs.Andres, came up to us.

“Hello there, Savanna. Can I talk to your mom for a second?” Mrs.Andres asked as I was walking to my friends.

“Savanna, we missed you in class today. Today was so boring without you,” a girl said sarcastically.

“Oh, haha very funny Makayla,” I said back.

“I'm being for real. Today at recess I had no one to talk to.”

“You had me,” Amelia said.

“I know but I needed my favorite white girl.”

“Aww. I had an upset stomach. Actually I just did not feel like coming to school today. I saw Maggie in the hallway and she said someone almost got into a fight,” I said.

“Oh yea. Your cousin Zach and some 4th grader almost got into a fight. It was funny because Zach thinks he can beat up a 4th grader.” Makayla said.

“Savanna, can you come here?” my mom asked.

“Your in trouble,” Amelia said.

“Oh gosh. What did I do this time?” I was saying to Amelia as I walked over to my mom and Mrs. Andres.

“Mrs. Andres wants to know if you would be Dorothy in the play,” My mom asked me.

“Really? You want me to play Dorothy?” I said.

“Only if you want to,” Mrs.Andres said.

“Yea sure. I would love to play Dorothy.”

“Great. Well here is a script so you can start practicing your lines. I will give you a better one maybe Friday.”  

I started to walk over to my friends to let them know but they were walking towards. They congratulated me.  They told I will be a great Dorothy since I kind of look like her. I felt really nervous since the whole Elementary School was going to be watching me. I started to rehearse my lines when I got home. I practiced everyday. I was so excited.

As it got closer to the pep rally, the teachers wanted us to start rehearsing. At first we started rehearsing in Mrs.Andres classroom. The great thing about rehearsing was that I missed some of my classes. As the weeks went on, we started going to the gym to rehearse. They figured out who they were going to get to help with moving and making stuff. Things went a little rocky at first but after a few tries the guys made great props.

The day of the play I was so nervous. By now, the whole has heard about the play. I was standing at the door when all the grades came in to watch. 3rd grade went first so I could not go sit with my friends. A lot of people told me good luck. I went and changed into my Dorothy dress and put on my red sparkly flats, Mrs. Andres could not find heels. Mrs. Andres came in and asked me questions about the dress.

“Does the dress fit well? Your mom told me that you are an extra small so that is what I ordered.”

“It fits perfectly. Thank you for buying all this for me.”

“Anytime.”

I heard the principal talking so I knew it was about start. I started feeling really nervous. Mrs. Andres must have sensed I was nervous because she told me that everything was going to  go fine. She also told me that if I forget one of my lines to just wing it and say something close to my line.

The principal called us out and the play started. Everybody screamed and cheered as we walked out. After the play ended, I was nervous again. I was scared that I did terribly and they all were going to laugh at me. I was wrong because everybody enjoyed the play. When everything was over, a lot of people came up to me and told me that I did great. Acting in a movie has always been on my bucket list but becoming an actress is not exactly my dream career.           

Marsh Summer

By: Kate Maddox

I’m glad my mother didn’t take my reveries outdoors as ungratefulness to what she provided inside. I had everything indoors that I could want or need, but outside,  outside we were different children… but not just children, we were anyone we dreamed to be, well, after we ate family breakfast. I could be an aviating astronaut and my sister a pirate explorer, and somehow, it made sense. Running loops around the treehouse, climbing up the slide to show how skilled we were, and one stationary at the top, just itching to run again.

“Who goes thayre? Be mate or foe?” I could tell she was pleased with herself for remembering the slang Mrs. Warren had read to them in a sea thief story, but she usually did remember a story if she wanted to be a part of it.

“I hope friend! I’ve fallen from Mars and I need help!” It’s too bad I was not an articulate speaker. I could have said “leaped from the stars”, but no, I only knew of Mars.

“Yarrr, this be me ship, no hitchhikers!”Thinking back now, I wonder if she really fully understood what a hitchhiker is.

“Oh please please please pirate!”

“Arrrre, thats Mr. Pirate to you”, she drawled, her voice deep and raspy mimicking, like the imaginary parrot atop her shoulder, the old man we hear narrating nature documentaries when nothing else is on.

“Please Mr. Pirate!”

“Let me think… ayyy no.”

“Syd!”, she slanted her eyes as if she knew of no Syd. “Mr. Pirate, PLEASE.”

Her lips twisted a sly smirk, but her eyes remained playful, “Just this once now, aye?”

“Aye.”

Mom sat on the porch with a book in hand and square, half face shading sunglasses balanced on the bridge of her nose. I doubt she was reading though. She most likely dosed on and off, only waking to listen to us laugh and talk over each other of our adventures of the high seas and space. Of course she loved the summer sunshine with a tall glass of tea, but I think maybe she was just enjoying us being together. Now we are still close, but there are many less pirates and far off galaxies.

After coming in for tomato sandwiches, we knew we were going to ask Dad the same question we asked every blue skied summer day. We would ask this while one hopped up and down and the other sat, ankles crossed, with big, begging eyes. This usually worked. “Can we go on the boat?” It worked.

Hours later, when the sun became more warm orange than blazing yellow, he braced his large hands a foot apart on the back as he told us to go ahead and get in after I tried pushing like him, but only futally running in place like an old cartoon. We sat facing forward, then a deep lurch, and next slowly easing back with the swishing back into place of the reeds on the opposite sides of us. As he stepped into his seat in front of the putter engine, we pulled off from the back yard going towards the dam first.

We all loved the small rippling waves and glittering sun, but my sisters favorite part was strangely the drain. It was needed with the high waters, but it looked like an abnormality, a whole in the reflection of the sky.

“Don’t lean to close”, Dad’s tone serious but smiling at his daughters strange wonder at a water void, “you’ll get flushed away”.

She leaned closer with her feet stirring up the waters and the low drumming of the hole filling up the air. A strange obsession, but at least an interesting one.

We went around the borders of the water and to the center, but I was waiting. Saying we saved it for last is wrong, because in case we did get stuck, we needed enough battery, but the wait felt forever.

Looking at it now, it still sounds strange. Years before my parents left Macon, the place we moved to was a hole. Quite literally. A valley with trees up to the sky in the back and green grass spreading the rest, it was just land. I was never told who specifically, but someone decided to change a small land world into a strange underwater domain. My favorite place was the marsh because this is where you could see these two worlds together, and I always was one to love a fairytale.

I would lean to the edge, my fingertips balanced on the water as sweat curled my hair into an ethereal crown and dragonflies buzzed like chanting citizens. I dreamt.

Trees towering above but the oceans around me, I dreamed back to when I was even younger and Mom read me to sleep. What leaped out of the water next would be more likely a sea dragon than a bass. I was not thinking of the me ten years from now, stuck to the ground as if glued there, no, I was above the ground. I was under the water. I was running on the water, and then, off to the clouds with nothing to worry me that I might soon hit stars.

This was my favorite pretend, this place of worlds, and thinking about it now, it still brings me happiness. It still makes me imagine. Even now.

The Greatest Season

By JR Fordham

 The greatest baseball season that I had ever played was last year. It was my eighth-grade year of baseball. At the end of the season my average was around 430. That means that I got on base about 4.3 times out of ten at bats. In baseball that is a very good average to have. We ended up having a very successful season and finished out in third place. Most of the year I played second base, catcher, and outfield. A few of the games stuck out in my mind more than others. Towards the end of the season we were playing East Laurens at home. This game I was having trouble dropping my shoulder on the ball and was hitting the ball straight up in the air to third base or the shortstop. After my third at bat I popped up to the left fielder. I was very disappointed about how I was hitting this game. When I was walking back to the dugout someone called me aside and started talking to me. The person was a player who had played in the minor leagues, and he was helping coach at the highschool. He pulled up a video on his phone and had videoed my last at bat. He said,” When you are swinging you are drooping down to hit the ball. This is causing you to drop your shoulder and pop the ball up. If you stand up tall and keep your front shoulder on the ball then you will not pop up the ball, you will start lining the ball off.” I did not get another chance to hit that game but the very next game I kept what he had said in my mind and I ended up going three for four with two doubles. Another game that stood out to me was when we played a diamond day at the school. It was a tournament where the varsity team and the jv team got a chance to play a game. My first at bat against Hawkinsville  I hit the ball for a single to left field. The next at bat that I had I had a three two count and I hit a ball opposite field which ended up going off the fence. The reason why this game stuck out to me was because it was the farthest ball I had hit during a game. And to make it better I got to pitch. I don't usually get to pitch during  the middle school games so it was fun to do. That game I played all three of my positions in the field. I played second base, catcher, and right field. Near the end if the season it was tight to see if we would make the playoffs or not. In the game before the last one we were tied with third in the league to see who would play the number one team. We ended up winning the game against dodge and ended up getting third seed in the tournament after the team we were tied with lost their game. The team we would have to play in the first round of the playoffs was West Laurens. In this year their team was really good. They had only lost one game to Vidalia who was the number one seed in the bracket. We had gotten beaten very badly earlier this year when we played West Laurens. We went out to the game with excitement. We really wanted to win this game very badly. To start off the game we put Cody Barber in to pitch for us. The first inning they did not score at all against us. When I hit I got a single up the middle. In the top of the next inning we came out better than ever scoring five runs to put us well in the lead. We held the team again to no runs. When we came out to hit we put on two more runs. When we went back out to the field we fell apart. We were making a lot of errors and it was costing us runs. They ended up scoring four runs on us that inning. We did not put any runs on the board that inning and neither did West Laurens. The next inning we got in a very bad spot. West Laurens had loaded up the bases on us and we had a very good hitter come up against us. He hit a far fly ball to left field. What looked like an easy flyout was mis read by our right fielder and the ball went passed him. This scored three runs tying the game up. When ended up getting two more outs. When we came back up a lot of pressure was on us to score so we had a lead going into the bottom of the last inning. Matthew came up and hit a single. I was next and hit a ball over shortstop for another single. Eli walked loading the bases for us. The next three batter wend down looking for strike three to end the game. The other team came up and hit two doubles to win the game. And just like that my last middle school baseball season was over. Some of the most fun I had ever had came to a end.

“Travel"

By Mia Crooms

 My friend called me a few days before they were leaving. My family is a little poor, so I didn’t pay to go. “Hey,” my friend said, “Brandy came down with something. Nana asked if I wanted to invite a friend, so we wouldn’t waste money. Would you like to go with me?”

 I automatically said, “Yes! But, I have to ask Mama first.”

 “Okay. Bye.”

 “Bye!”

 I walked to their bedroom, but neither was back there, so I went outside. Sure enough they were out there talking. I went and tugged on my mom sleeve and whispered, “Mama, can  I talk to you?”

 “Sure, Monkey.” Me and her then walked inside.

 “Skylyn said that Brandy got sick and that she can’t go to Gatlinburg anymore. She asked if I wanted to go in her place, so can I?”

 “I’ll talk to your dad. When are they leaving?”

 “In like two days.”

 “Two days? When?”

 “They’re leaving around three. I’ll have to sign out.”

 “I don’t know. I’m gonna talk to your dad and see if he’s okay with it.”

 “Okay.” I went to my room.

 I watched TV until around five, when Mama called me for dinner. My mom and dad were whispering about something and when I walked up they stopped. Mama said, “Your dad said you can go.” I started to smile, “On one condition though.” I groaned expecting them to say that I had to do the dishes when I get back, but instead she said, “You have to text us whenever you get  there and what you are doing.”

 I smiled again, “Yes, ma’am!”

 My dad said, “Now go pack.”

***

I haven’t stayed more than one night anywhere, but hotels with my parents. I remember when I was little I would always get scared when I was staying with my grandparents and they would have to call my mom for her to come get me at night. I finally grew out if that, but I wasn’t too sure about staying out of state.

It was a normal day at school until my mom came and signed me out. My mom began to speak, “We are gonna stop by your dad at work, so you can see him before you leave.”

We drove to my dad’s work. As we parked, my dad came to the car to say bye. I got out the car to hug my dad. He said, “Hey. I took my bag of change and counted it. It was around fifty dollars, so you can take it on your trip.”

“Thank you!” I said excitedly.  After that my dad hugged me again and then we left to go to the church. I said all my goodbyes, then headed on the bus with my friend. Her and I talked for awhile and we got out all the snacks we brought. Skylyn and I never go anywhere without snacks. After, it was dark out, so we tried to sleep on the bus. It was kind of hard because these two kids behind us kept taking pictures with the flash on. I looked up at them once, gave them the stink eye, then closed my eyes again to sleep.

When we got there, we all grabbed our stuff, brought them into the cabin, then choose what bed we sleep in. They all fell asleep quick, but I tossed and turned all night. The next day I was very tired, but today was a free day, so they asked us what we would want to do. We chose go karts. I had lots of fun during this time. We had pizza and stayed for half the day. The rest of the day, we spent walking around town, shopping. I almost bought this Captain America shield replica, but it was expensive.

We kept shopping for awhile, but then we headed back to the cabin. There was this whole game room with a Xbox, pool table and air hockey. I never played air hockey, so I decided to try this with everyone else. I was actually good at it. Except when I hit too hard and it hit the wall. Then, the adults said we had to go to sleep. The rest of the trip we went to the church conferences.

On our way back we stopped where it was snowing, so we can play for a bit. I made a snowball and tossed it at one of my friends. She thought it was someone else, so she threw one at them. I ended up starting a snowball fight, like in the movies.

My church pastor said, “Hey, everyone! We’re gonna head up there.” He pointed to this monument, “Be careful though. The stairs are iced over.”

We all headed up there. Thank the Lord no one fell, except when we got up there. It was like a skating rink, but more slippery. Skylyn and I both fell on each other and we just ended up laughing for a few minutes. Until someone yelped, “Ow!”It was Garrett. He kicked the ice.

We left early, then. No matter what, I had a great time, after getting over staying away from my family. This is when I thought that if I’m with good people in a safe place, then I shouldn’t be nervous. I learned that I love traveling and I will cherish that memory forever.

 Weak Spot

By Fatima El-Jeaid

It all started when I was four. My older brother,Wassim, had been playing soccer at the Recreation Department for one year. Of course me and my family went to watch and cheer him on, but it was finally one day when I started to kick the soccer ball around. The other parents were shocked yet interested to see a four year old running around on the sidelines kicking a ball. My parents took notice of this and I was put onto a team as soon as possible. I grew up playing it, and I even dreamed of becoming a soccer player in the future, as many kids do, in a professional league. I went to camps and even got to practice with the local college team as a perk to knowing the coach. It was then I knew I loved the game.

Things changed though when I entered middle school. It was a whole new ball game, no longer playing just for fun but playing against kids from other counties and schools. I remember being so nervous going out onto that middle school field with thirty others girls. Most of the girls were experienced 8th graders, leaving little room for new people.The new team would be announced at the end of the second day. I had been training for years,and the work payed off when I found out that I had made the team. I was the youngest and only 6th grader to be on the team. The season started off slow though. I did not get to start at first but did get quite the playing time. About half way through the season is when my coach really started liking me and I was in to start the rest of the games and stayed in most of the game. I had scored 15 goals and the season was yet to be done. Everything was going great, but of course all good things must come to an end.We were playing West Laurens in the last game before the playoffs.We were up two, relaxing a little. I was up playing offense when the ball got passed to me.I started to run it to the other goal, when I realized it was down to me and two defenders. I knew they were both trying to get me but I was not prepared for what happened. As I tried to cut around one of them, she stepped on my ankle, my foot twisting before I was knocked down by the other defender.I knew something was wrong when my eyes began to water in pain. I stayed down, my coach running onto the field as the referee blew the whistle calling a foul on the girls. I had to be helped off the field where I was looked at. My right ankle had already begun to swell, bleeding a little. I was to sit out the rest of the game and go to the doctor as soon as possible. When my mother finally did take me to the doctor, I was nervous. I could barely walk and was in serious pain. The doctor took a look and I was saddened to hear that I had tore part of the tendon right along my ankle. I was given a brace and told that I could still play soccer but I must wear my brace and that I had to be really careful otherwise I could end up seriously messing something up. I took this hard, never realizing how quickly one bad thing could ruin everything. It was like I was scared to play now. I had never hesitated during a game to be aggressive, if I wanted the ball, I went after it. But for the rest of the games that season, I did not play like I used to. Coaches liked me because of my aggressiveness and because I never gave up on the ball, but  that had all fallen away once I got hurt. When we lost the championship game that year though, I knew that was it. I was angry at myself for being scared. I had let one little injury stop me from playing my best and I had felt as if we lost that game because of me.

That summer, I did everything I could do get back to where I was before and even got better in the process. I went to camps and even played on two club teams. It was a tough year, but I pulled through, my 7th grade year being one of my best years playing soccer. Every once in a while for the later years, I would have a small problem with my ankle but I never let it stop me. That one incident truly made me become not only a better player but a better person. I learned that life is not always going to be an easy road and there will be trouble along the way. But, if I just keep pushing and never give up then life can actually turn out to be pretty great. One thing that always kept me  going and that I will always remember is the quote my brother Wassim told me over and over again from his own experience. He said, “ Fear doesn’t knock you down, It wakes you up.” That changed everything.

A Special Day

By: MiShayla Brown

 “Tap, tap, tap.” I grabbed my phone from under my pillow to check the time. It said 2 a.m. I figured the noises were probably my mom cleaning again like she always does when she can’t sleep. The sounds were coming from the kitchen, so I walked in and saw her standing at the sink.

 “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” Mom asked.

 “Yes ma’am, but it is okay. Why are you washing dishes at this hour?”

 “I got a call from your brother. Morgan is having contractions, so they are on their way to the hospital. I am too anxious to sleep.”

 I cut her off saying,” Then what are we still doing here? We need to go!”

 “The doctors are keeping her, but she is not very dilated. It is going to be late tomorrow morning before she has him. Go back to bed, and get some rest. It is going to be an eventful day!”

 I went to my room and climbed in bed. I was much too excited to sleep.  I grabbed my journal and decided to write. After writing a letter to my upcoming nephew, Lane, and a few short poems, I finally got sleepy. I slept for a few hours before my mom’s voice woke me up.

 “Time to rise and shine. Morgan and Lane are doing well; she’s four centimeters dilated, so we are going to head on to the hospital.”

 We got ready fast and were on our way. We walked in the waiting room. We have a big family, so some people were already there. We all spread out and grabbed our devices to keep us busy. The time passed by very slowly; there was a whole lot of waiting with occasional breaks when people would read the update texts from my brother.

We were able to take turns visiting. When it was my turn to visit, I could barely contain my excitement. However, when I walked in, Morgan was in an extreme amount of pain and was waiting on her epidural. When the nurse came in to give her the epidural, I almost fainted. I actually had to lie down until my aunt helped me walk back to the waiting room. It was then that I started questioning my plan of going into the medical field.

The day dragged on and around 10:20 p.m. we got the text we had been waiting on all day. Lane was here! We walked back to see Lane in the nursery. I will always remember the moment I laid my eyes on him for the first time. He was screaming as they checked his reflexes and cleaned him. After they finished bathing him, they took him back to Morgan and my brother so they could have a little alone time with him. It was around midnight when we finally got the chance to go in the room and hold him.

     “Lane, meet your Aunt Shay,” said Morgan.

     I held out my arms making sure I was very gentle. He looked so tiny in my arms. He was sleeping. As I looked at his face, I knew I would love this little boy more than he could ever imagine. I could not wait for the adventures I would share with him.

     A little over 18 months have passed now and watching Lane grow up has been one of my most favorite things. We are inseparable just like I knew we would be. That day will always be one of the most special days of my life. The obvious reason is because I gained a little boy who I love more than anyone else. However, there is another reason that day was so important. It was on that day that I started to rethink the job that I had been planning on doing my whole life. I thought my dream job was to be a neonatal nurse. However, after almost fainting in the hospital room, I realized the medical field might not be for me.

Breaking Point

By:  Kirsten Villarreal

 “It is all going to be okay, just breathe.”

 What happened in this moment was all kind of a blur and still to this day nobody knows how it actually happened, earlier this day I was on the playground enjoying every second of recess before we had to go back inside and do work when I came across an expo marker. I walked to the trash can to throw it away, but for some reason as I walked I held my arm as if I had broke it and was in a cast. The school day was over and the second I got home it was time to go to my favorite place ever, gymnastics. I loved going to the gym and spending time with my friends while also doing a sport I loved so much, little did I  know what tonight had in store for me. Everything was normal at this point we would warm up like we did everyday, then we began tumbling.

 “Brooke watch this” I shouted.

 “Okay go ahead” Brooke said back to me.

 So there I went doing a round-off backhandspring backtuck, a skill that was so easy to me I could do it in my sleep. All I can remember is something not going right and me looking at my now broken arm. It was disgusting to even look at my arm that was now bent into a “v” with only my wrist and my elbow touching the ground and my four arm broken in half up in the air.  My scream of pain filled the whole gym with fear and within seconds my mom was right at my side.

 “It is all going to be okay, just breathe.”

 I took a glance around the building and see everyone terrified, my sister and my bestfriend so scared for me that they were hyperventilating and had to leave.

 “Someone call 911!”  I hear a woman shout.

 The ambulance rushed quickly to the gym and carefully put my arm into a splint, put me in the the ambulance, and drove off.

“Do you guys have the lights on?” I asked.

“No if it was more severe we would,” said the EMT.

Every bump we went over on the way to the hospital caused my arm to shake a little bringing more and more pain each time. I had arrived to the hospital and there were many other people there, specifically football players, because tonight were the first games of the season. I had been informed I had a compound fracture which is a fracture in which the bone pierces through the skin, and was going to need surgery but with the amount of other people there I was currently not a priority for surgery. The doctors couldn't leave my arm in its current condition overnight so they set my bones and put my arm in a soft cast. It was a restless night but around 10 a.m. I was being pushed into an operating room. You know how in the movies there's big bright white lights beaming down on the patient well that's exactly what it was like. I layed on the operating table.

“5...4...3…” the doctor counted down.

I had been knocked out by the bubblegum scented anesthesia, and just as soon as I was knocked out I woke up that night around 7. I had a purple and pink cast on my left arm I also had 2 metal rods in my arm now. The next morning, because my arm had swelled so much from the surgery the nurse had to cut my cast open with this pizza cutter mechanism to release some of the pressure off of my arm.

“Is this going to hurt?” I said with tears flowing down my face.

“No not at all it won’t even touch your skin” the nurse reassured me.

 After 3 days of being in the hospital I finally got to go home. I knew this wouldn't be a short recovery and it wasn't, 8 months I was in a cast and after that I was in a brace for 2 months. I was hoping after 10 months I would finally be able to return to my sport, I hated being on the sidelines not being able to do anything. Unfortunately this was not the end, the metal rods that the doctors put in my arm they now wanted to take them out. For this surgery, I had to be at the hospital at 4 a.m. but didn't go into surgery till about 6 in the morning. Once again I was out like a light and woke up to some terrifying things being said to me.

“You need to drink this apple juice and eat the crackers or else you could die” said the nurse nonchalantly.

I was gulping the apple juice and shoving crackers into my mouth after the nurse said that. Thankfully I was able to leave the hospital that day.

Another 2 months went by before I was finally cleared to slowly go back into gymnastics. In all I was out of gymnastics for 14 months. My mom always told me that I would come back stronger than I was before and out of this experience I learned that you can't give up and you have to keep trying no matter how hard the journey is.

When You Get Hurt, Go to the Doctor

By: Tanner Filion

 My mom was a R.N. until she retired because of her disability, but since she was knowledgeable in the medical field, so the only time I ever went to the doctor was for “medical emergencies.”

 Years ago n the playground in fifth grade we were playing an intense game of dodgeball and one of the balls went way past the area of play, so I ran after the ball so i could get a chance to throw it; well right as I was going to get the ball someone kicked it back to where we were playing, so I grabbed onto one of the old tetherball poles and swung myself around back towards the game. When I got myself back in the right direction I let go of the pole but when I did so i stumbled and caught myself with my hand on the ground. Immediately, I felt a tear producing pain in my elbow which forced me to go sit on the benches that were on the backside of the playground and sit out of the rest of the game.

Fast forward to later that day I had cross country camp which was a camp run by Coach Cranford to help prepare his future runners for the middle and high school cross country team, and the whole time I was running/ practicing the pain in my elbow never dwindled. When I got home I complained, complained, and complained some more until the next day after my mom constantly saying that I will be ok she decided that I needed to go to the doctor because at this point the pain was unbearable.

Arriving at the doctor produced a lot of nervousness inside of me that I had never experienced before. When I went in to get an X-Ray the whole situation overwhelmed me because I was only eleven, so being in a room getting an X-Ray with my parents looking in made me nervous. After all of that the doctor walked into our room and tells me I fractured my elbow and that I might have to have surgery on it for it to be able to grow back properly; after that my nerves were shot because my options were get a cast or have surgery and I was leaning way closer to a cast. That afternoon my mom and I went to the orthopedic to see whether or not I would surgery or not, and luckily I did not which was a great relief, but now i had to walk around with this bulky red cast for two months, but I did have to run my mile for cross country camp, which got eighth in, in late December, and I dreaded every day walking around with a brick on my arm. Fortunately it was in the winter, so my cast did not smell awful during the time I had it or afterwards when it got removed, the second time. After getting my first cast removed because my elbow allegedly “should be completely healed,” yet I still had to where another cast, for a whole month which bugged me a little but all I could do was sit and smile.

Overall, what I learned from that awful brick being on my arm for three months was that nobody is invincible, so I need to start taking care of my body whether it be during physical activity like soccer or day-to-day tasks such as feeding my eighteen or so dogs and that goes for everybody because you have got to take care of yourself before anyone else.

Tears

By: Jewell Allen

 This whole story started in seventh grade. That grade was almost pure torture. Two guys, both of them quite unappealing and nasty, thought it was a good idea to bully. Everyday I dreaded going to school, everyday I was ready to come home before I even left my house. At lunch, at break, and even whispers in class, they called me words no girl should ever be called. “Slut” “Whore” “ You know I bet you’ll be the first girl in our grade to get pregnant”. I never understood why they said these things, especially because the most contact I had had with another boy was one of them running into me in the hallways.

At the end of seventh grade I found five friends who I trusted, they got me through those months of tears and sadness. They did not know what I was going through, however they made me laugh, and forget about my troubles.

Eighth  grade was a little better in the bullying stage, but in other ways it was so much worse. In the summer before eighth grade, my last year of middle school, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s a sixth grade teacher so the other two years I was at the middle school she had been there too. It was strange not having mama there, but my homeroom teacher was a friend of mama’s and she helped me along the way. I can remember days I would come into the classroom and she could always tell if something was wrong. On Fridays she always did these “Free Write Fridays” where we had a free topic and we shared them after the timer dinged. One day, a girl shared this poem about her relatives dying around that time of year. While she was reading, she cried. I was crying right behind her. All I could think of was losing my mama. She was alright a few minutes later, but I put my head into my sweatshirt and bawled. After we read the stories and started class, I pulled my head out of the sweatshirt and tried to stop crying to do my work, it wasn’t working. My language-arts teacher, who was also be my homeroom teacher, pulled me out of the classroom and into an empty room. She handed me her phone to call my mom and talk to her so I would feel better. I really didn’t know what to do, but I knew I did not want to go back into that class. I can’t remember what happened after that. There were many incidents like that, something would remind me of mama and I would break down. Some days I couldn't even go to school it was such a bad day. I would often stay with mama and go to her chemo and radiation treatments.

There was one time, it was after lunch and we were headed back to the classroom for 4th period. One of the boys that bullied me in seventh grade was messing with me. Just saying annoying things like he had done the previous year. I threatened him because I was tired of taking it, “ If you don’t stop, I'm going to hit you with my lunchbox.”

“ DO IT.” At that moment I was so upset and mad at the same time I could have knocked his teeth out. However, I decided to go through with my threat. Of course getting in trouble was constantly in the back of my mind, but for a whole year he called me ugly words and said mean things to me and not one person did anything about it, so I turned around, and I swung as hard as I could, I hit him square in the stomach. It made a pretty loud pop/thud sound, I'm not really sure which.  

After, when the teacher was asking questions to the people around the incident, almost everybody took his side, saying I hit him for no reason. At the end of the class the teacher had called me and the boy up to her desk. She asked, “I don't really want to ask, but what happened?”

“He was bothering me, and so I said, ‘If you don’t stop, I'm going to hit you with my lunch box.’ then he said, ‘Do it’ kinda like he was betting me to, so I hit him.”  

“I did not say ‘do it’ like I was betting you” was his argument.

“Alright well, you probably deserved it, and just don’t hit anybody again.” was the only reprimanding we got because she knew some of what I had been through.

 Ninth grade is awful. In the beginning I was having three to four anxiety attacks a week. I didn’t want to do anything. My friends were hanging out without me, and I just wanted to know what I had done. I hadn’t thought of anything, and when I asked about it, they just blew it off , like I had asked them about the weather. Towards the end of the semester life got better. This boy in my one-act class was very nice and kind to me. This previous week was really hard on me, so he bought me a polar pop, a big fountain drink from Flash Foods. It wasn't expensive, it wasn't that big of a deal, but it almost made me cry tears of joy.

The Little Things

  By: NenaBeth Mickle

 One day I stayed after school to go to a HOSA meeting. I walked into Mrs. Dykes’s room --she is the teacher who is in charge of HOSA-- and went through a line to get some of the refreshments she had provided. I wanted to go to the bathroom before the meeting started, so I set my food on my desk and started walking down the hall. Near the bathrooms, there was a janitor lady cleaning some glass windows just outside the school auditorium. At some point it occured to me that I should stop and thank the lady for what she was doing for the students and workers at the school. I know that some people truly do enjoy cleaning, and maybe she was one of those people, but I personally have no interest in cleaning up other people’s messes and facilities for a living. I do not even like cleaning up after myself. Anyways, for whatever reason, this woman was taking time out of her day to keep my school clean and she deserved to be thanked and appreciated. But it was not that simple in the moment. I hesitated to say anything, and considered just walking back to class. I am glad that I didn’t. On my way back from the bathroom, I got her attention and said, “Thank you for keeping our schools clean.”

 “Oh, you’re welcome,” she responded in a kind voice.

She seemed to appreciate my thanking her, but I have no idea how much this encounter actually affected her. Maybe she was having a bad day and my short comment encouraged her. Maybe she never thought about it again. I do not know how this made her feel, and chances are I never will, but I can tell you what it meant to me. First of all, it makes me realize how important these little acts of kindness are. Grand gestures are always fun and exciting as you wait for the big moment to come, but the little things you do that give you that satisfactory sense of accomplishment inside can be just as good or better.  

But then it made me wonder why I was so hesitant to show my gratitude to this janitor who clearly deserves it.  I truly do appreciate what that lady was doing for me, so why did I have to think about it before I said anything? Was it a sense of subconscious pride or haughtiness? If you asked me plainly, “Do you thing  that you are better than that janitor?” I would say no, and I really do not think that I am, but that brings us right back to where we started. Why was it hard for me to decide to thank her? Maybe it just feels weird because people do not normally do that sort of thing. Expressing your feelings to a total stranger seems awkward. I sometimes even find it hard to thank the people that I do know because it feels weird. But it really should not be this way. Being vocal with these feelings of gratitude and thankfulness needs to become a natural thing for us, because it will not do much good to keep them inside, and since it obviously does not come natural to all of us, we must practice it. The more I practice saying thank you and showing appreciation, the more natural it will become. People always talk about feeling regret for the things they did not do for their loved ones who have died or the time they wish they had spent on someone other than themselves. I know that this particular example was a less than 15 second conversation, and when I graduate, I may have forgotten all about it, but today I know what I did and how good it made me feel. I hope that I gave the janitor a good feeling too.

The point is, the right thing may not feel comfortable or be a big deal in anyone’s life long-term, but at least it can brighten a day or a week or maybe it will affect their entire life. You never know. Just try not to miss out on the little moments you are given to show kindness and appreciation, because once they are gone, they may never come back. And what a shame it would to pass up such an opportunity to help someone else and yourself over something as dumb as temporary discomfort or unnecessary awkwardness.

New Home

By: Anita Lawson

 We were driving down an old country road a couple miles from the city. My parents had already made the unfair decision that I would be staying with a friend of my mom for the summer. I jittered my leg and chewed on my Chick-Fil-A straw. I guess you could say this is the last option before my parents send me to boarding school. You see, I was a very strange kid. Always doing the dumbest, out of the ordinary stuff. I wasn’t necessarily bad, just misunderstood. I honestly didn’t want to live with the strangers. The only thing I knew about them was that they really like cheerleading. Like ya know how some families watch football and baseball together? There little family thing was cheer.

 We finally pulled in a long driveway. At the end of the driveway there was a big brick house. The car came to a stop and right on time two people came out of the house. They looked happy. My parents walked out the car and greeted the couple. I stayed in watching from a distance. I really didn’t want to be here. The group walked over to the car and my dad open the door for me.

 “Hey bug. This is Courtney and Bob. They’re gonna be taking care of you for awhile,” my dad said all to causally. I just nodded my head not even being able to look  at my parents. What heartless people are able to ship their only daughter to a place she’s never been?

 “Hey Anita, I’m Bob,” the man said smiling. He looked nice. Too nice. I half smiled and got out the car.

 “Hey Anita, I’m Courtney,” the woman said. I looked at both of them and turned to my parents. They looked sad. I looked back at Courtney and Bob. They’re nice people, and they have a nice homey vibe and I’m apparently gonna be here for awhile so I may as well give them a chance. I hugged my parents goodbye and walked into the big house with my new parents.

 “C’mon upstairs, I’ll show you your room,” Courtney said.

 “Okay,” I mumbled. We walked up the staircase and into a white room.

 “For now you’ll have to deal with all this white but later on we’ll go shopping for some other stuff yeah?” Courtney asked. I walked over to my new bed and climbed in it. It was an average sized bed, but it was really soft. I looked up at Courtney and smiled. “We have two kids, Carley and Kenley. They’re about your age. They’ll be over here later on today so you get to meet them. If you need me and Bob we’ll be right across the hall.” Courtney walked out, and I layed on the bed and drifted to sleep.

 “Hey wake up,” a girl said shaking me awake.

 “Huh?” I said barely being able to open one eye.

 “I’m Kenley,” she said. I sat up and looked at the girl. She had dark brown hair and eyes. Courtney was right. She is about my age, but a little younger though. She looked about nine.

 “I’m Anita,” I said rubbing my eyes awake.

 “So you’re my new big sister?”

 “I guess so.”

 “That’s cool.”

 “Yeah.”

 “Wanna watch Spongebob with me?” She asked breaking the awkward silence.

 “Yeah I love Spongebob!” I said grinning. She went to the dresser and picked up the remote and then climbed in my bed.

     “Kenley,” an unfamiliar voice said while, “momma says let Anita sleep.”

     “But she’s already up Carley,” Kenley said.

     “Oh,” Carley said. Carley looked around the same age as me too. Unlike Kenley, she had blonde hair. “What y’all watching?”

     “Spongebob. Wanna watch?” Kenley asked. Carley nodded her head and sat on the other side of me. We sat there and watched Spongebob for maybe a hour before my new dad came in.

     “Hey girls,” he said. “I see y’all are getting along.”

     “Hey daddy,” Kenley said.

     “Come watch tv with us,” Carley said. Dad sat down on the other side of Kenley and watched tv with us. Then momma came in and sat beside Carley. I started to slowly drift to sleep again. I laid my head on Carley’s thigh and was out like a light.

     To this day I’m super close with my summer family. Almost every weekend I go up and see them. Ever since I’ve been with them my life has been changed. They support me in cheer, mma, and my sexuality. I love them so much.

“A Broken Arm”

By:Darci Dillard

Many people say that their lives are boring. Nothing goes on in their life worth telling, but I on the other hand have a story worth sharing. I am a very active person. I love the outdoors, running, and swimming. I enjoy playing competitive sports with my friends and of course wining. Over the years, my feet have quickly traveled many miles on trails and tracks during my running phase. And have played every sport that its main object is a ball. I have never been severely injured during any sport until the day in 8th grade I tired out for the middle school soccer team.

“Come on. They are about to start,” yelled one of my friends.

I replied, “I’m just so nervous. I can barely walk.”

“Now listen. You will be fine. Relax and take deep breaths.”

We hurried to the field just in time for the warmups. I knew everyone out there, but for some reason I did not feel right. I thought maybe this is not a good idea; however I kept up with the other girls and at the end of the day the coach revealed that I had made the team and would be playing the position that I had dreamed of playing. Goalie.

When I hoped into the car with my big white teeth showing my mom knew what had happened. Even knowing this that did not stop her from asking.

“So how did it go?” she asked.

I said joyfully, “Great! I made the team and get to start as goalie!”

“Wow. That’s wonderful honey.”

I was so excited about playing goalie no one could possibly understand. Me versus a large black and white checkered ball. Me blocking the high kicked ball from scoring. It was so thrilling! This was going to be the best season ever.

 I never even thought about getting hurt playing goalie but sure enough it happened. It was the first day of practice so of course we were not going all out. Somehow a girl I did not even particularly like did not understand the fact not to kick it hard because the goalie, which was me, did not have the padded gloves on. However from two feet away she kicks it with what seems like all her might. I’m ready hands in position to stop anything that comes my way until I hear a earth shattering crack and feel the excruciating pain of my wrist being forced backwards. Immediately, I know my wrist is broken. Tears become heavily visible upon my face. The coach blows the whistle and calls for a emergency water break. Everyone on the field heads over towards the coolers as the coach approaches me. She was a nurse before she started teaching so that made me feel a little better; however I still was in tremendous pain. My coach examined my wrist and called my parents to tell them I needed to go to the doctor. Now if you know my parents their motto is “You’ll be fine.” So of course they did not believe that my arm was actually broken. After hearing me complain for the next two days they finally decided to take me to Orthogeorgia and get it x-rayed.

 Sitting in the waiting room for what seemed like forever, finally I get called back to a small black room to view my results. You could clearly see a break on my growth plate which meant it was time for me to go get a cast put on. I was relieved that I only needed a cast instead of surgery, but also bummed that I could not finish out my soccer season as goalie. You would think that since soccer is a sport where your hands are not supposed to be used it would be no different playing with a cast on. Running around with a five pound cast on your arm can be difficult. Once soccer season came to an end, I swore to myself that I would never play again. I claimed I hated it and that it was the worst sport ever, but in reality maybe if I did not have such a bad experience, it would have been a fun hobby to consider.

Lesson Learned

By Joni Lumley

 A well known man- Paul “Bear” Bryant- once said, “When you make a mistake, there are only three things you should ever do about it: admit it, learn from it, and don’t repeat it.” Many mistakes are made every day by just a single person. It’s easy to make a mistake, but it is not always easy to fix it. One specific mistake that has majoring impacted my life was an ATV wreck. This mistake could be easily fixed by one, but was challenging for me. Another mistake I’ve learned from was a car accident with my mom.

A while back, my brother, my aunt’s daughter, and I were on my grandfather’s Polaris Ranger riding a hunting trail on the back side of my grandfather’s property. We were enjoying our Sunday ride after lunch, but were soon to get bored if the trails. We decided to take it on some of the dirt roads in the neighborhood. We found ourselves on this dirt road we had never been on before. We thought we would ride it for a little while, because it was as a dead end road. Therefore, there was no chance in us getting lost. Once we reached the end of the road, we realized we needed to hurry back before our parents’ realized that we weren’t on the trails. My cousin sped back up the road. She came to a sharp turn that had ruts about a foot deep. Trying her best to follow the turn, she didn’t pay any attention to the ruts. The Polaris was snatched to the left following a rut. Running 60 miles per hours, we had no time to react. We were flung into the ditch where she became pinned between the ATV and the ditch wall. My brother and I were still in the Polaris, but I had slid from the middle seat to the driver seat, and my brother ended in my original spot.

I learned from this experience that you should never ride any vehicle without a seatbelt. Also, you should never drive that fast on a road you do not know well for the same accident could happen to you.  From then on, I have never driven that fast on an ATV on any road. Nor have I forgotten to wear a seatbelt even if I am going right down our deserted dirt road the my grandparents’ house.

My other mistake I’ve learned from was a accident with my mom. As you know, as people get older, their sight starts to deteriorate and seeing animals while driving at night becomes harder. Not being old enough to drive, I have to ride home with my mom after practice which ends around 5:30 pm. The quickest and main route we take to get to and from school is about thirty minutes. That’s various back roads that are mainly woods filled with wild animals. Heading down them, you have many turns to take. Therefore, it’s not exactly easy to see the next animal around the turn until you’re right there on it. One day, I decided to not help her look out for them. I chose to got to sleep, because I was tired. That’s the night my mom hit a deer and almost totaled her car out.

I learned from this lesson that I should always keep my eyes open when we are on roads like that. Plus to help out anyone who needs it no matter who is driving. By simply doing that, I have helped my mom and brother from hitting many deer on the way home.

These mistakes have greatly impacted my life. Experiencing them, admitting that they were mistakes, and learning from them have made me become a responsible and more reliable person. I have learn to be aware of my surroundings -not just animals, but people also; to help and protect not only my life, but the lives of others in the process. I have also learned that the slightest mistakes came be the difference between you walking away barely hurt and you being rolled away on a stretcher.

Autobiographical

By Sophie Knight

About three years ago, my whole perspective was changed. Luckily, when I was young I hadn’t yet experienced the tragedies that plague some kids. I have grown up with both of my parents, perfectly intact.  

It was September, and the cold was just tip-toeing in. My dad went outside to go do some yard work. Before he went out, he mentioned having a headache. I thought nothing of it at first. After all, everyone in my family was prone to having headaches. Hours later, he walked back inside grunting. However, something felt wrong. “Let me go with you,” I insisted. He glanced at me and nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. We had just walked out of the garage when he doubled over, clutching his head in both hands.

I jogged in, the door closing behind me, “ There’s something wrong with Dad.” After one glance at me, she said, “Get in the car, and take her with you,” she said, nodding toward my sister’s room. “Come on,” I said, jogging into my younger sibling’s room, “get in the car, right now.” She stood there and began to protest, but I dragged her along. As soon as we jumped in the backseat, Mom sped off towards the emergency room. The time between when he went into the hospital and when he was moved into the helicopter was a blur. I remember my sister videoing the helicopter as it landed in the hospital yard to transport him. They rolled him out of the emergency room and put him inside of the van, which was plastered with a large “Heartland” logo. The van drove about 100 feet to the helicopter, and lowered his stretcher onto the ground. My mom was attached to his side, clutching his arm, tubes laced around his body.

I had stayed completely out of the way, until my mom waved for me to come over to the stretcher. I looked down at my little sister. She wasn’t quite old enough to completely understand what was happening, other than that ‘Daddy was sick’, as we kept telling her when she asked questions. We didn’t know very much else about what was happening either.

I picked up my wide-eyed sister and walked hesitantly over to them. “Say goodbye to Daddy,” Mom said, sniffling. My dad glanced up at me, “Hey,” he said. I chuckled lightly and smiled,”You gonna be okay, tough guy?” “ I guess we’ll see,” he said. I half smiled at him, and they raised him up into the bed of the helicopter. My mom didn’t get on the helicopter with him. Instead, she took me home to get all of the stuff I needed to stay at my Nana’s house for a while. After I gathered my stuff I walked outside to find my dog laying down where my dad usually puts his shoes. He glanced at me, then whines. My mom walked outside to find me putting him in a crate. “I’m taking him,” I insisted. Mom nodded. She then took me to my nana’s house, where I would stay for a bit.

Mom explained that she would be driving up to Emory Hospital, and I would be responsible for taking care of my little sister while she was gone. Over that time, I gained a level of responsibility I didn’t know I had.

Normally, in a situation like this, I would be very emotional, but when I look back on that time, it seems like God was holding me together. I’ve come to realize that he was putting my family through this trial to make us stronger. I had an epiphany about why he does what he does. It made me think deeply about just how much he does for me. This tragedy ultimately made me stronger spiritually and it helped to make me more responsible.