Monday, December 19, 2011

Secret Life Of Bees Essay


                Unhappy things consume you. They are like disease, they start out with small symptoms, and end up with a much a much larger consequence. They keep spreading until they take over everything that you are, and everything that you love. The things that once brought you joy and laughter, now only bring forced smiles. All the things that you love, no longer seem worth your time or effort.  Life no longer has a purpose. Disappointing and depressing thoughts fill your head, and they seem to have engraved themselves there, eating you alive. There is only one way to end the pain. To end the agony.  To end the only thing that gives you grief. Death ends up being the only solution. These are the thoughts of a young girl before she puts a gun up to her head, and pulls the trigger. Right then in that moment was when the hurt and pain ended for April, but it was also the moment when it all started for the people who had come to love her. Everyone that knew her took her death pretty hard. They grieved for a long time, not understanding why she would ever want to take her own life. The one who took it the hardest though was May, April’s twin sister. April was Mays other half. “One soul sharing two bodies” Is what their older sister August called them.
To May, the things that seem like everyday stuff can bring tears to her eyes along with unstoppable sobs. Thing’s like stepping on an aunt hill, getting the cold, or even tomato rot, can make May cry harder than ever.  May is also a big perfectionist. Sometimes, as it says in the book, May would peel over a whole batch of Banana’s until she got one without a bad spot on it. If things didn’t go right it could start a whole other round of tears. “Oh Susanna” is her solution for keeping the sadness out. It is like her medication. No one knows why she chose “Oh Susanna” but she did and it seems to work. If singing doesn’t help they have this thing out back called a wailing wall, you write down your problem and stick it in the crevices of the wall. No one knows the actual reason May is the way she is, but April seems to be the most obvious reasons.
How would you act if something that dramatic happened at such a young age? What would you do if you lost someone important? What would your life be like? I think May would have been a completely different person if April didn’t commit suicide. I think May feels like it’s all her fault. 

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Automatic Toilet and Soap Dispensers

Author's Note: So,One time me and a few of my friends were in a movie theater bathroom. In the bathroom there were Automatic toilets and soap dispensers. And, as I was washing my hands I said to my friends "These are so stupid!" and I continued to complain about how pointless both of these things are. So, I thought this would be a fun topic to write about considering I have a very strong opinion about this and that I needed to share the stupidity of these inventions to the world. I hope you see where I'm coming from when I explain why I strongly dislike automatic toilets and soap dispensers
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Automatic doors, toilets, sinks, paper towel and soap dispensers. Most of our lives revolve around technology. Some, for entertainment, some for work, some for convince, and in this case, some for sanitation.
When you go to the bathroom most people don’t realize the germs and bacteria your body comes in contact with. It starts when you enter the bathroom using a door handle. That handle has touched over a thousand hands, and most likely has not been cleaned off in a while… same goes for the stall door. Next, is when your rear end comes in contact with the toilet seat, in public rest rooms, please make sure you use a paper cover. Who knows how many butts have touched the toilet that you’re sitting on? The once your done doing your business, you touch the handle to flush, and then you touch the stall door…again! After, you wash your hands. In the process of washing your hands you touch numerous things, such as, the sink handle, a soap dispenser, a paper towel dispenser, and the door as you walk about.  So, by the time you’ve washed your hands, you already collected as much as you had before. Technology can help. If your bathroom is supplied with an automatic soap dispenser, sink, paper towel dispenser, and toilet, it eliminates most of your unwanted “friends”.  You no longer have touch any germs. Only one problem…
There is no need for an automatic toilet. After all once you touch the knob to flush, you wash your hands 10 seconds after. So here are companies, business owners, and every other place with public bathrooms thinking that this motion censored toilet is the greatest invention since mankind. They waste money buying it and time installing it. Another rather stupid invention is the soap dispenser.  As soon as you touch the dirty soap dispenser, you wash your hands right after. I understand the reason for paper towel dispensers, and automatic sinks, because those things, are things that you come in contact with AFTER you wash your hands. Motion censored toilets and soap dispensers have absolutely no point, and in my opinion are a waste of money and electricity.  
“Everything should be as simple as possible, but not simpler” –Albert Einstein

Rejection

Snow covered everything. It was a winter wonderland. Lop sided snowmen line the streets along with snow forts, and forgotten sleds. Christmas lights light up the entire neighborhood, nativity scenes appear in windows, along with Santa and the rest of the reindeer. Carolers make their way house to house around 5 everyday. It’s the perfect suburban neighborhood. White picket fences around every house, smiling faces on every person, and everyone is friends. I sit in my living room. Once again the ideal family living area, board games and books fill the cupboards, hot chocolate sits upon the coffee table, and the dog lies sleeping while Christmas music drifts through the air. I sit on the windowsill with a blanket draped across my shoulders and a hot mug in my hands. Tears dripped down my cheeks. Some made splashing sounds as they dropped into my cocoa, while others make their way towards my mouth and supplied me with a wet, salty taste. I ran my fingers through my hair; tufts of it fell onto the floor. I clench my eyes shut, hoping this is all a dream. But, the blood that came pouring out of my nose just then, and the lack of strength I had to get up and stop it only confirmed my fears. My cancer has taken over. It was only a matter of time until people figured out. I can hear the whispers already. I’ll be the talk of the school. I heard the front door open, and laid motionless waiting for my mom to notice me, and make a scene about the blood that has now reached the floor. I hear grocery bags hit the floor and my mother's footsteps run towards me. She doesn’t say anything. She only wets an old rag and cleans me off. School starts in 30 min. and I was determined to go today; no matter what my mom said. I needed to tell people what’s happening before rumors start about all the days of school I’ve missed in the past few months. After I was all clean I stood up, got dressed, grabbed my backpack, and stood by the front door. My mother knew what I wanted. She sighed, grabbed the keys and reached for the door knob. She froze with her hand still on the handle. “Are you sure?” She asked with her eyes focused on the floor. “I feel fine mom, come on, let’s go,” She sighed a second time and twisted the door handle. Here I was, off to school for the first time in a month and a half. I slowly walked out to the car; I would have gone faster if I had the energy. My mom carried my backpack for me, so the only thing I held in my hand was my speech, it was exactly what I was going to say as I told my class what exactly the reason was for my absence over the past weeks. I read it over and over until we reached the school. I got out of the car, grabbed my backpack, kissed my mom on the cheek and whispered “I love you” before I made my way towards the entrance of the school. I acted as if it was any other school day, and silently made my way to my first class. I walked in and whispers spread through the entire room. I put my head down and slowly walked towards the teacher. She smiled sympathetically. “Do you mind if I say something real quick?” I asked as I took a quick glance around the room. “Sure Janie!” She replied. I whispered Thank-you and made my way to the front of the room. “Hey guys” I said with a smile. Everyone stopped talking, and smiled back. “I guess you guys all want to know why I’ve been gone so long" Murmurs started in the back of the room "so here it goes."I said trying not to let my voice crack. The faces of my classmates froze. "I was diagnosed with a rare type of cancer called adenocarcinoma it lines my internal organs. I started chemo a few weeks ago." I said as quickly ran my fingers through my hair. A small blonde lock of hair fell out as I did so. I held it up for the class to see.  "My hair is falling out, and I’m very tired.” Tears started rolling down people’s faces. “It sucks, I know. I also know you guys all want to help, but I just want to be treated like I was before. I want to be treated like Janie Eldridge. Not that Janie girl with cancer.” Sobs started in the back of the room as tears run down my face, but then I smiled “I’ve accepted what’s happening to me. I only hope that you will too.”

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Superstitions

 A crash like that of a window breaking woke me with a start. My eyes fluttered open as I forced my body upright. Adrenaline ran through my blood. I quickly ran for the door. I sprinted down the hall way and took the stairs by two. The house was dark, except for a dim light that came seeping from the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. I stood silently at the bottom of the staircase searching for a reason that any of this was happening. Finally I exhaled; it occurred to me I had been holding my breath since I had reached the first floor. As quietly as I could I walked over to the lights. I was careful not to step on the creaky floor boards; I knew exactly where they were from past experiences. I finally reached the bathroom. I grabbed the door knob as a chill ran down my back. What could possibly be going on? I turned the knob and opened the door slightly. The first thing I saw was the shimmering slabs of mirror that lay fallen on the ground. Millions of pieces scattered around the bathroom tiles. I opened the door as far as it would go, and there I saw her. My beautiful mother. Her beach blonde hair swayed in the water, and her bright blue eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, her skin was as white as snow. My mother lay in a bathtub, dead. Tears filled my eyes as I grabbed the phone and dialed the number I thought I would never need. “911?” I asked, “Yes” was the woman’s response. I quickly explained my situation. She asked a few question like my name, my address and my age. “Eleven,” I said right before I hung up. I’m eleven. That means 7 years of foster homes, orphanages, or adopted parents. I never believed in superstitions, until now.