This was an English assignment that I had to do. I had to write a story containing a 93 year old man, a shopping mall, the night of high school graduation, and a secret that needed to be confessed to someone. I hope you read it, because it contains a good moral and I actually ended up liking what I wrote.
To be honest, this story was quite hard to write (especially at the last minute haha) because I gave up on writing stories for years and started writing articles instead.
Please give me your thoughts on this story!
Opportunities Should be Taken as Life Continues
Looking at a plaque that said Mrs. Wheeler I started to speak in a timid voice,“I”m dropping out of high school so here's my papers.”
“What may your reason be as to why you're dropping out?” the Secretary of Lions High asked.
“I just don't feel as though high school is doing any good for me and my life is just a mess.” I sighed.
“You do know that high school graduation is only a month away right? I am positive you'd be able to handle 4 weeks of school, plus you've made it to your senior year. Don't you want to finish what you started 4 years ago?” Giving me a concerned look.
“No Ma'am, I'm sorry, but please just take my papers so I can leave.” Ignoring half of her questions.
“Alright, but you're going to regret it, maybe not now but you will later.”
“Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes and stormed out of the school.
This memory was the last thing I had of ever being enrolled in Seattle's Lions High school. I was always considered as the freak, the quite kid and the outcast. For me, that was normal, but not for others. I had two of the best friends you could think of part of high school. Janet and Ryan were their names. I met them my Freshman year and became friends quickly with them, but they graduated during my Junior year and unfortunately we parted ways, but they were the friends I told secrets to. I recall a memory where I told them my biggest secret. I meditated on telling them for about a month because I was scared they were going to judge me.
“I cut myself. I've been doing it for the last three years.” I whispered to Janet and Ryan.
“You what? Why do you cut yourself?” Janet said without hesitation.
“Janet! Be more considerate here.” Ryan elbowed Janet on the side.
“Sorry, my bad.” Janet looked down on the floor.
“I don't know. Cutting myself is just a way to escape the troubles I have to deal with every day of my life. I just think that's my only way of surviving.” I said feeling quite relieved.
“You know we got your back. Whatever you need we'll be there for you, we promise.” Janet glanced at Ryan and he gave a quick nod.
“Thanks for everything. I'm glad I told you guys. This secret has been eating me for a long time. Please don't tell anyone.” I said sweetly.
“We promise.” They both said at the same time.
My biological parents abandoned me when I was two years old. I guess I wasn't important enough for them. Even to this day I have no clue who my actual parents are and I don't intend on finding out. I was immediately put into Foster Care and it was tough. I've been put in in situations where the father or mother was abusive towards me and the other foster kids and I've also been put in a home where the parents were kind and generous. When I was little it was hard to identify who I really was. Was I worth it? I mean, my parents abandoned me so that obviously meant I meant little to them. I was stranded, suffocating in my own depression. I never called my foster parents mom and dad, they were just foster parents or so I would sometimes call it “the people who take care of me.” The foster parents I had at the time in my senior year could care less about me. They weren't mean nor were they abusive, but they didn't mind what I would do or cause outside of home. When I turned 18 I decided to drop out of high school. High school was a waste of time, especially with the attitude I had. I was already being bullied and isolated. During lunch, if you wanted to look for me, all you had to do is glance over to one of the corners and there I was eating alone. I never once imagined myself going to college and that was when I asked myself what was the point of even going to high school.
I rarely got out of the house after Ryan and Janet graduated. Without someone there with me I didn't feel safe. I feared as if a mob of people would come after me and that would be the end of me. That fear of mine almost came true on the summer of August 15, senior year. My then-current foster parents dragged me to the nearest mall of Seattle since school was approaching, and they said I needed new clothes. Of coarse my paranoia kicked in but I couldn't do a thing about it; my foster parents were going to force me to go to the mall whether their life depended on it or not. Rarely, its' sunny outside because most of the time it's raining, but today wasn't one of those days. I could feel a soft breeze brush through my face and I took a deep breath and thought to myself it was going to be a decent day. Once my foster parents and I entered JC Penny's I examined the type of clothes that were set out and I wanted to leave. JC Penny clothes were definitely not my favorite as far as I could see. I knew that I couldn't argue with my foster parents choice though, so I kept quiet hoping that time would pass by quickly. I didn't care what they would buy for me, just as long as we were out of there.
“I'm going to go to the shoe section, alright? Hold on for a second.” George, who was my foster dad, said.
“ I'm going to the bathroom while George is shopping. You're going to be alright standing here for a while until one of us comes back, right?” Betsy, my foster mom asked.
“Yeah sure.” I lied.
“Okay, hold these clothes while I come back.” And there it was, she was gone.
Of coarse it wasn't going to be alright standing there alone, especially with strangers walking around. All of a sudden a chaotic noise caught my attention and I turned the other direction. A group of eight or ten skater kids were pointing and were laughing hysterically. I knew immediately that they were pointing at me, and I could identify who they were. Some of them were graduates, but most of them still attended my school.
“Look at that freak. He actually shops here?” A graduate yelled. It was loud enough for everyone to hear but once that caught customer's attention they went back to their business.
“Only outcasts shop here Ethan,” a senior chuckled.
The group left the store with laughter echoing the air. My heart dropped. I was lucky enough to not get mobbed, which was my fear.
Now I am a bitter 93 year old man living alone in the same state as I have always been located at. The only regret I have in life is not graduating high school and not being confident in myself. I let people bully me I should have never dropped out and I should have never let those bullies and my depression get the best of me. I guess you could say that I am depressed right now; at the fact that I never continued my life to the potential it could have taken is the worst thing I could carry on.
One month later...
There I am, sitting on one of the thousand seats in the auditorium watching all my former classmates graduate while I'm not. After all the things I've gone through and felt, I think this was one of the worst. Reality sank in when I the last couple of students were walking down the aisle and getting their diploma. Thinking I couldn't feel any worse, seeing the soon-to-be-graduates throw their gowns in the air to make it official was the last straw. I could feel hot bullets run down my cheeks and I there was no care in the world of what those around me thought.
Seventy-five years ago I could have graduated but I decided not to. It is something I don't want to think about but even til this day I can't forget it. I know my life isn't going to continue for much longer, for I am old, and what I would like to take with me in this life is that people learn from my mistakes. Not graduating and not fixing my cutting problem until I was twenty, didn't help me gain anything. It was hard to maintain a job since I had no career to present to managers, and I couldn't get out of my bubble of sadness. Even as I cured my cutting problem I carried the guilt of every mistake I made, which I said, still continues today, and here I am living my last couple of years- maybe days- of life. “Opportunities should be taken as life continues” should be everyone's motto.
To be honest, this story was quite hard to write (especially at the last minute haha) because I gave up on writing stories for years and started writing articles instead.
Please give me your thoughts on this story!
Opportunities Should be Taken as Life Continues
Looking at a plaque that said Mrs. Wheeler I started to speak in a timid voice,“I”m dropping out of high school so here's my papers.”
“What may your reason be as to why you're dropping out?” the Secretary of Lions High asked.
“I just don't feel as though high school is doing any good for me and my life is just a mess.” I sighed.
“You do know that high school graduation is only a month away right? I am positive you'd be able to handle 4 weeks of school, plus you've made it to your senior year. Don't you want to finish what you started 4 years ago?” Giving me a concerned look.
“No Ma'am, I'm sorry, but please just take my papers so I can leave.” Ignoring half of her questions.
“Alright, but you're going to regret it, maybe not now but you will later.”
“Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes and stormed out of the school.
This memory was the last thing I had of ever being enrolled in Seattle's Lions High school. I was always considered as the freak, the quite kid and the outcast. For me, that was normal, but not for others. I had two of the best friends you could think of part of high school. Janet and Ryan were their names. I met them my Freshman year and became friends quickly with them, but they graduated during my Junior year and unfortunately we parted ways, but they were the friends I told secrets to. I recall a memory where I told them my biggest secret. I meditated on telling them for about a month because I was scared they were going to judge me.
“I cut myself. I've been doing it for the last three years.” I whispered to Janet and Ryan.
“You what? Why do you cut yourself?” Janet said without hesitation.
“Janet! Be more considerate here.” Ryan elbowed Janet on the side.
“Sorry, my bad.” Janet looked down on the floor.
“I don't know. Cutting myself is just a way to escape the troubles I have to deal with every day of my life. I just think that's my only way of surviving.” I said feeling quite relieved.
“You know we got your back. Whatever you need we'll be there for you, we promise.” Janet glanced at Ryan and he gave a quick nod.
“Thanks for everything. I'm glad I told you guys. This secret has been eating me for a long time. Please don't tell anyone.” I said sweetly.
“We promise.” They both said at the same time.
My biological parents abandoned me when I was two years old. I guess I wasn't important enough for them. Even to this day I have no clue who my actual parents are and I don't intend on finding out. I was immediately put into Foster Care and it was tough. I've been put in in situations where the father or mother was abusive towards me and the other foster kids and I've also been put in a home where the parents were kind and generous. When I was little it was hard to identify who I really was. Was I worth it? I mean, my parents abandoned me so that obviously meant I meant little to them. I was stranded, suffocating in my own depression. I never called my foster parents mom and dad, they were just foster parents or so I would sometimes call it “the people who take care of me.” The foster parents I had at the time in my senior year could care less about me. They weren't mean nor were they abusive, but they didn't mind what I would do or cause outside of home. When I turned 18 I decided to drop out of high school. High school was a waste of time, especially with the attitude I had. I was already being bullied and isolated. During lunch, if you wanted to look for me, all you had to do is glance over to one of the corners and there I was eating alone. I never once imagined myself going to college and that was when I asked myself what was the point of even going to high school.
I rarely got out of the house after Ryan and Janet graduated. Without someone there with me I didn't feel safe. I feared as if a mob of people would come after me and that would be the end of me. That fear of mine almost came true on the summer of August 15, senior year. My then-current foster parents dragged me to the nearest mall of Seattle since school was approaching, and they said I needed new clothes. Of coarse my paranoia kicked in but I couldn't do a thing about it; my foster parents were going to force me to go to the mall whether their life depended on it or not. Rarely, its' sunny outside because most of the time it's raining, but today wasn't one of those days. I could feel a soft breeze brush through my face and I took a deep breath and thought to myself it was going to be a decent day. Once my foster parents and I entered JC Penny's I examined the type of clothes that were set out and I wanted to leave. JC Penny clothes were definitely not my favorite as far as I could see. I knew that I couldn't argue with my foster parents choice though, so I kept quiet hoping that time would pass by quickly. I didn't care what they would buy for me, just as long as we were out of there.
“I'm going to go to the shoe section, alright? Hold on for a second.” George, who was my foster dad, said.
“ I'm going to the bathroom while George is shopping. You're going to be alright standing here for a while until one of us comes back, right?” Betsy, my foster mom asked.
“Yeah sure.” I lied.
“Okay, hold these clothes while I come back.” And there it was, she was gone.
Of coarse it wasn't going to be alright standing there alone, especially with strangers walking around. All of a sudden a chaotic noise caught my attention and I turned the other direction. A group of eight or ten skater kids were pointing and were laughing hysterically. I knew immediately that they were pointing at me, and I could identify who they were. Some of them were graduates, but most of them still attended my school.
“Look at that freak. He actually shops here?” A graduate yelled. It was loud enough for everyone to hear but once that caught customer's attention they went back to their business.
“Only outcasts shop here Ethan,” a senior chuckled.
The group left the store with laughter echoing the air. My heart dropped. I was lucky enough to not get mobbed, which was my fear.
Now I am a bitter 93 year old man living alone in the same state as I have always been located at. The only regret I have in life is not graduating high school and not being confident in myself. I let people bully me I should have never dropped out and I should have never let those bullies and my depression get the best of me. I guess you could say that I am depressed right now; at the fact that I never continued my life to the potential it could have taken is the worst thing I could carry on.
One month later...
There I am, sitting on one of the thousand seats in the auditorium watching all my former classmates graduate while I'm not. After all the things I've gone through and felt, I think this was one of the worst. Reality sank in when I the last couple of students were walking down the aisle and getting their diploma. Thinking I couldn't feel any worse, seeing the soon-to-be-graduates throw their gowns in the air to make it official was the last straw. I could feel hot bullets run down my cheeks and I there was no care in the world of what those around me thought.
Seventy-five years ago I could have graduated but I decided not to. It is something I don't want to think about but even til this day I can't forget it. I know my life isn't going to continue for much longer, for I am old, and what I would like to take with me in this life is that people learn from my mistakes. Not graduating and not fixing my cutting problem until I was twenty, didn't help me gain anything. It was hard to maintain a job since I had no career to present to managers, and I couldn't get out of my bubble of sadness. Even as I cured my cutting problem I carried the guilt of every mistake I made, which I said, still continues today, and here I am living my last couple of years- maybe days- of life. “Opportunities should be taken as life continues” should be everyone's motto.
