The Little Boy.

It is not happy here.
Never has been and probably never will be.  
We don't enjoy it at all. Either of us.
But we learn to get by. We help each other.
Spending hours on end talking. Taking long car rides to nowhere.
It amazes me. I remember the days when we used to fight.
All of the time.
I hated him more than anyone.
Or at least I thought I did.  
He was the mean boy. The one that would punch and hit me.
The one that called me mean names. And knew how to make me cry.
But it changed one day.
One day, he no longer hit me. One day, he stuck up for me.
One day, he started telling me everything. And I told him everything.
One day, we became best friends.
That one day, unlike most, lasted.
It is now that little boy that used to punch me
and call me names that I want to talk to when I am sad.
It is that little boy that used to sit on me that I take for drives to talk.
It is that little boy that I trust more than anything. And always have.
It is that little boy that helps me get by. And I try to do the same for him.
It is that little, now grown up boy that I love more than anything.
Even if I never thought I would.

KEY:

Plot

Character

Conflict

Theme

Setting

Finally.

Original Text:

Their instinct told them not to go into the village. They would not find help there. The villagers knew about the camp, yet nobody had come to help, except those women, once. And besides, the village was too close to the camp. They might meet a person who would send them right back there. They turned their backs and walked away, keeping close to the tall grass by the side of the road. If only they could drink something, thought the girl. She felt faint with thirst, with hunger.

They walked for a long time, pausing and hiding when they heard an occasional car, a farmer taking his cows home. Were they going in the right direction? She didn't know. But at least, she knew they were heading farther and farther away from the camp. She looked at her shoes. They were falling apart. Yet they had been her second best pair. The pair for special occasions, like birthdays and the cinema and visiting friends. She had bought them last year with her mother. It seemed so long ago. Like another life. The shoes were too small now. They pinched her toes.

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Finally.

She Turned her back.

She was getting away. Finally

Where was she going?

She didn't know.

No one would come looking.

She knew that.

She was falling apart.

It seemed so long ago.

Much like another life.

She turned back.

Worried at what she might see.

It was gone now.

She was getting finally away.
Finally.

One Day.

One day, I will mean something to someone.

One day, I will do my homework. 

One day, I will stand up to them.

One day, I will tell them how I really feel. 

One day, I will get into the college of my dreams.
One day, I will stop losing things. 

One day, I will be normal.

One day, I will tell him that I like him.

One day, I will have complete freedom.

One day, I will write that sorry note.
One day, I will open that textbook.

One day, I will look into the mirror and be happy with what I see.

One day, I will be on time. To something.

One day, I will clean my room.
One day, I will fill out a job application.

One day, I will come up with something new.

One day, I will be happy with what I have become.

One day, I will wake up when my alarm goes off.

One day, I will stop biting my fingernails.

One day, I will grow.

One day, I will pay attention in class.

One day, I won't give up on everything.

One day, I will change.

Broken.

Remember when you little brother broke your favorite toy?
You were devastated.
You cried until Dad promised he would fix it, but that never happened.
You forgot soon enough, and that once-favorite toy eventually got thrown out.
With new and better toys, you never thought of it again.

Remember when you fell off the slide at school?
Remember managing to break your arm?
You had never hurt so much.
You cried until Mom picked you up.
And then the doctor put that bright blue cast on it.
It still hurt a bit, but you forgot soon enough about the horrible pain you once felt.

Remember moving?
You were shattered.
You had no idea it would ever be that hard.
You cried for three months, until you finally made a friend.
But after that, moving didn't matter so much.
You forgot about your old friends, and slowly stopped emailing them every week.
The pain of moving was gone.

Remember times with no friends?
You didn't think you could get up for school.
You begged your parents not to make you go.
Nothing was worse than eating lunch alone.
Nothing was worse than the word alone.
People were mean.
But soon enough, you did fit in with someone.
You forgot about being alone. You forgot about mean people.

Remember that broken heart?
No one had ever made you hurt that much before.
You vowed you would never get over it.
But soon you realized he wasn't worth it.
And neither was the pain.
You left it behind, and forgot about him, and all the hurt he caused you.

Somehow, you are still feeling pain.
For some reason you think that this one is worse than all of the others.
That nothing and no one will ever be able to make it better.
Once again you are lost and confused.
Life is changing and falling apart right in front of you.
Everything is broken.
But soon,  you will realize that this is stupid, really.
You will forget soon enough, and this pointless pain will be gone.
This broken will be left alone forever.

Rock Out.

 Rock out like you just made the best wish on a shooting star...

and at the same time it was 11:11.

     Rock out like broken hearts...

     never had to happen.

Rock out like you have too much homework you didn't do...

and school just got canceled because of a snow storm.

     Rock out like the house is empty...

     and no one will be back until tomorrow.

Rock out like you just woke up...
and realized that everything horrible was just a dream.

     Rock out like that kid you have liked for five years...

     just told you he likes you back.

    

Rock out like you just found twenty bucks....

in pants you haven't worn for a year.

     Rock out like no one cares what you do with your life...

     and you are free to make your own decisions.

Rock out like its your last day of high school...

and graduation is tomorrow.

     Rock out like you should be hurting...

     but for some reason, you are done with that.

Rock out like there was a cure to becoming old...
and you just found it.

Rock out like you just realized what you are really here for...

and learned not to care what others think.