My Memoir

The bang of the door echoed throughout the hallway. I walked slowly inside the pitch-black apartment, shivering from the cold drizzle outside. I tip-toed in my ninja-like way in to the kitchen and clicked on the light, partly hiding behind the closet door, just in case there was anyone out there, waiting to attack. I’d always felt like there was someone watching you, their yellow, beady eyes following your every move, even though I knew there was nothing there. That’s why I loved the rain. It made me feel like those eyes shut closed and don’t open until the rain stopped. I looked out in to the dim hallway before walking out. It was then that my energetic brother ran into me, spinning around like a tornado. Out of nowhere, my dad walked through the door carrying fifteen bags of groceries in each arm. Both of them were drenched from head to toe. And there we were, the crazies of the building, all standing under one roof, safe from the gloomy skies. But the safety didn’t last for long. My father kindly suggested that the family to take a walk in the rain.

I had been sitting on the couch in my fluffy white robe that fit me awkwardly, being that it was twice the size of me, slipping my milky hot chocolate. Taking one last swig, I jumped up off the couch and put on my sneakers. Then, looking back at the dining room table, I found my brother still making his way to the bottom of his mug. I stepped out of the doorway into the echoing hallway that held the entrance into the pouring rain.

As I took the first foot into the gloominess, I took in a deep breath. The air was misty but fresh, like it was breathing for the first time. I ran up ahead of my father, down the block, further onto the abandoned street. The street lights were majestic and had an orange glow to them, making the whole block seem like a fairytale. And after my dad caught up with me, he held my hand like I was only 5, and crossed the intersection even though there was not a soul in sight.

The rain was filling up the neighborhood, in the gutters, around the car tires, engulfing everything around. I stood on a bench at first, letting the rain sift through me, dancing on my skin, soaking my hair. My father sat next to me, just looking out into the nothingness. We then decided to go to the park. The trees billowed in the howling wind. The leaves circled around me. the water grew its own tiny waves, and the grass was losing the fight against the wind. I splashed into the three feet of water, not even caring about my ruined sneakers. I kicked and spinned and danced throughout the park. I jumped up on the benches and climbed over the fences. At one point, I sat back on the same bench next to my dad and closed my eyes, enjoying the last moments of the storm before the sun weighed it down in defeat, bringing civilization back to the world.

"Bitter Melon" by Cara Chow

Frances Ching.
Self concious, lonely, and ashamed of herself for doing nothing wrong.
Ashamed of herself because of her mother yelling at her, comparing her, telling her how utterly wrong she is. Theresa, her cousin, being compared to Frances by her mother. Basically, it is a war between the two sisters of whose daughter is better. The strange thing is that the sisters aren't battling over their own daughters. Frances' mother is fighting for Theresa, Theresa's mother fighting for Frances. What I still don't understand, though, is why these parents are being so cruel to their onw daughters. Why they can't just love one another, I don't know. Why they can't just keep their harsh feelings and opinions to themselves, I don't know. All i do know is that their lives would be a lot easier if they did.
But it's nice that Frances and Theresa befriended each other. It's nice that they can say what they think about their mothers' wars. They don't need hate to get along, they don't need screaming or comparing or insulting. They don't even need each other, just kindness. I don't mean to be cheesey, but it's true. It is the parents job to make the child feel less self concious about themselves, not to show the child how ugly or dumb or un-lady-like they are. The whole reason why Frances Ching is so lonely, self concious, and ashamed of herself is because of her mother.
Now that's just not right, is it?

"Struts and Frets" by Jon Skovron

the main character in this book, named Sammy, is, in my opinion, sort of your average teenager, but more strange. The way he talks about life is different from what you'd expect a teenage guy to think about. In a way, there are little file cabinets that are all disorganized inside his head. And because of his disorganization of his mind file cabinets, it drives him nuts, and you can see this in the way he talks and behaves. Sammy doesn't have a care in the world about school work, but there is not anyone to blame except for himself, which he doesn't seem to understand. He seems to try to blame everything but himself in order to make himself feel better about his decisions. I don't think he knows what exactly goes on sometimes, and that he just has his own little world that he likes to believe is true, or could happen. That's the problem, though. Sammy just doesn't know how to bring himself back to reality, back to the real world, where unpredictable things happen.
That's where the music comes in. Playing the guitar and writing songs comes naturally to Sammy, which is where his mind wanders off to.
Maybe this is why he can't fall asleep at night.
 

This I Believe

I Believe In Patience

In my life, patience is important. My family is always loud. It’s how they were born. I, usually being a quiet person, have learned the way to ignore all of their laughing, snorting, burping, snoring, yelling, etc. the key is patience. In fact, my life is completely made up of patience.

Last summer, my family’s pet birds were attacked by raccoons. They all escaped, but our largest one, a pigeon (yes, a real pigeon from New York, not a dove), who was hit by a truck two years ago in the winter, is lost.

When we first found her two years ago, we knew we couldn’t just leave her there, lying there in the cold bleeding, so we took her home. We didn’t know if she would survive, though. And there came the patience. Feeding and nursing the poor bird, we waited until the day that her wing would magically pop back into place, and she would get her flight back. But it didn’t happen. Not for months and months.

I was sitting at the dining room table, watching our pigeon walk around on the surface. I watched her three-toed feet , and clack into the kitchen. I heard the flutter of feathers, then silence.

I thought something was wrong. I thought she crashed into the refrigerator and couldn’t move, but I was incorrect. It turned out that the pigeon, who had been hit by a truck, had flown from the floor to the tippity top of the refrigerator.

And it all took patience.

Some time ago, I found a book that claimed that pigeons have some sort of tracking device in their minds, where they can go back to their homes. Now, my family, however loud we may be, wait for her to come home. This showed me how patience has impacted my life, especially with my pets. After the first couple of days, my family and I realized that we would have to wait, instead of search. We knew that with patience, we might find her. It worked before, it might work again.

I will always be patient.

This I believe.

Aunt Zelda ("Magyk" by Angie Sage)

Aunt Zelda

Aunt Zelda is the mysterious family member of the Heap's that lives in the woods. Both a boggart and an invisibility spell cast over her house for protection-as if something in the middle of Marram Marshes might come out to attack her. The thing is, there is not much in the marsh that can hurt you, so why Aunt Zelda does everything she can to stay protected is just a tad strange to me.
The woman seems like a lively being, with her outrageous dresses and interesting food. That potion closet of hers, I think, is the most mysterious out of all of Aunt Zelda's qualities. She seems to spend every waking moment of her time inside of it. No one seems to notice how much goes on in that closet, no one except Boy 412. He notices a lot of things, such as the fact that every morning, Aunt Zelda would take down two lanterns into the potion closet. He also noticed that one day, there was no light coming out from under the chipped door. being a curious boy, he went to see if he could find out what happened to the light. He opened the creaky door, just to find a trap door. This is another example of Aunt Zelda's mystery. Where it lead to, Boy 412 couldn't find out, since just then he heard the loud clank of her boots, coming from inside the trap door. There is something down there that Aunt Zelda can take a whole day on, and it is something that must be hidden.

 

Revolt of the Evil Fairies

Even in the face of discrimination, Ted Poston’s “Revolt of the Evil Fairies” shows us that trying to get something with all our heart is best-even if we don’t get what we want. The protagonist knew that he would fail at getting the Prince’s role, all because he was dark skinned, and yet he still tried and tried to get it. After all, if we don’t keep determined, then what will we get done?

“ I knew the Prince’s role from start to finish, having played the Head Evil Fairy opposite it for two seasons.” This was perfect for the protagonist, he already knew the words. All he had to do was put effort into the work, and he’ll have perfected the role.  It shows that in the past, he paid enough attention to memorize the script of Prince Charming.

The protagonist went from only wanting the Prince’s role to needing it. He needed to prove that he was just as good as the lighter skinned people, and that just because he was dark skinned, he didn’t have to be “evil” anymore. “There was never any doubt about Prince Charming and the Sleeping Beauty. They were always light skinned.”  When he took the step with using his sisters’ skin cream to make his complexion look lighter, he took a step with himself, and changed. I think that before, the protagonist wouldn’t have taken the skin cream. If it weren’t for Sarah Williams, the protagonist would have never taken the steps of courage.

“After Sarah was chosen for Sleeping Beauty , I went out for the role with all my heart. If I had declaimed boldly in previous contests, I was matchless now!” This was said by the protagonist, confident about his audition. The thing is, the confidence wasn’t for only his acting. It was for his rights. He felt like he accomplished what he aimed for, right in that moment. And if he actually got the part, then it would have been like showing everyone up. Everyone who believed that dark skinned people were less important than lighter skinned people, that’s who the protagonist would be showing up.

In Ted Poston’s “Revolt of the Evil Fairies,” there is discrimination going on. But even then, the protagonist found a way to put it all behind himself, and believe that there was a possibility that he could get the Prince’s role. “They wouldn’t let me appear in the grand dramatic offering at all the next year. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t have been Prince Charming anyway.”(said by the protagonist). He changed from really caring about the play to not caring at all. He stood up for himself and all of the other Evil Fairies, but unfortunately did not get a light skin role. Though if your luck is like them, still try your hardest. You’ll stand out.

Boy 412 ("Magyk" by Angie Sage)

this boy holds great magyk, but doesn't know it. he comes from the Young Army, where things are horrible and disastrous. his life holds death and pain, and all he really wants is to feel like he belongs to something. Particularly, a loving group of people who care about him. Something like a family, maybe. I think that spending time with Marcia, Princess Jenna, Niko, and Aunt Zelda has helped him to feel once like he belonged there, and that they actually cared about him. he was surprised that someone would even offer him kindness and help, let alone talk to him with a gentle tone and feed him and such. Though he still doesn't quite understand what is happening, it's still better than waking up to buckets filled with ice that didn't dry until days later.
I think that Boy 412 is somehow related to Silas, Jenna, and Niko. They all practiced magyk, he didn't. And yet when ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Marcia, gave him the invisibility charm, told him how and what to do, Boy 412 got the spell down within seconds. I find this strange since Boy 412 had no lessons with magyk, and plus, Silas and his wife had lost their baby boy, the nurse had run out of the room the minute she held the baby and pronounced him "dead". I think that Boy 412 is Septimus Heap, the dead baby boy that the nurse had taken away.