Zombie Story

"Who cares...it happened anyway, we'll get over it." That's what Jake said to the cashier, as he was heading out of town. To where? No one knew, only Jake. As he got in his car, and started making his way out of town, he noticed in the back of his vehicle -- something was missing, or not even necessarily missing, but gone.

His dad died when he was three. Didn't know much about him, and for a while he thought his mom was lying. He thought that his dad actually didn't die -- but left him. That was Jake's mission, after this horrible thing happened to his world. He was going to find his dad.

As he turned around to head home, he noticed on the side of the road across the street from the gas station was a pile of dead bodies. Not just any dead bodies either, but kid's dead bodies. They were in school that day, he stayed home. He was "sick" and his mom didn't think anything of it. She also didn't know he was leaving, he didn't say goodbye, he just left.

When he pulled in his driveway, an old man was sitting on his front steps. He had never seen this guy before, and didn't know if he should back right out like he needed to turn around, or just park the car and see what he wanted.

"Hello?" said Jake.

"Hi" said the old man.

"If you don't mind may I ask who you are?"

"Why should it matter to you? Can't I sit on my own front stoop?"

"What do you mean by your own front stoop, last time I checked this was my..." Jake said, but never finished as he noticed he was in the driveway of the grumpy old man who has lived across the street from him since the day he was born.

"Yeah, now get out of here, and park your rusty piece of crap car in the garage so I don't have to look at it!"

"I'm sorry you don't like what I drive, but if you want to buy me a new one I wouldn't turn you down." Jake said with a smile.

"Get out of here boy, and don't come back. You've been a pain in my side since the day you were born. Hitting and kicking balls into my yard. Yelling with your friends outside. If I never had to see you again, I wouldn't shed a tear." The old man said.

Jake apologized one more time, and left. He got in his car drove across the street and parked his car right in the middle of his front lawn.

Thinking to himself, "You will never see me again you old man, so I'll just piss you off one more time."

As Jake decided what he forgot to take with him on this -- let's just say adventure. He noticed something was wrong, all of the pictures that were once in his house with him in it have all disappeared. That made him a little concerned, as he ran up the stairs to his room, he got to the door and noticed everything was packed up into tiny neat boxes with the words "Mayville, Wisconsin" written on every single box. But, something is wrong...

Jake forgets it and starts looking through all the boxes as fast as he possibly can -- thinking to himself...

Mayville is unfamiliar...Mayville is not right...Mayville sounds suspicious. 

In the tiniest box in the way corner of the room, is the picture and manila folder he was looking for. Inside it could mean the difference of him finding his father, or never seeing daylight again.

He grabs the manila folder and the picture, and a few other miscellaneous things, and leaves as fast as he possible can. As he gets in his car, and pulls out of his driveway he sees the old man across the street, but he's not sitting anymore, he's not glaring. He looks like he's sleeping -- but he's not.

Whatever. Jake thinks as he starts driving down the road.

Jake lives in Illinois just outside the Wisconsin border, has been to Wisconsin many times, but has never heard of Mayville. This was the suspicious part to him, his family every year would go up to Superior for a fishing trip in July. But, he never even paid attention to the towns they drove through or the things around him. He just turned 16, just got his license, and just got his first car, everything was new territory.

As he thought of the address on the boxes that his things were being shipped to he built up hope that, that could be his dad's house. Not building up to much hope, he was just trying to find a map or a gas station where he could get directions, but never found one.

A couple of hours later he looked up and noticed that he was in a hospital.

Neck broken.
Legs broken.
Arms torn right off.

He went straight through the windshield of his car right into a tree when he took his eyes off the rode for a second to long and hit a man in his late 40's just trying to walk his dog.

As the nurse asked him what his name was he said Jake Watson, and she gave him a look of shock.

He wasn't sure what the look was for, and didn't even need to ask. She piped up and said, "what are the name of your parents, and where do you live?"

He said that his mom's name was Beth Watson, maiden name, he couldn't remember. He has asked a couple times before, but it was so insane he could never remember. His dad's name was, was, crap what was his name!

As he sat there and thought about it for a while he remembered it was a very unique name. It was, oh yeah, it was Gino, Gino Watson. The nurse gave him a look like he was crazy. She actually had to ask him if he was telling the truth.

"Is your dad seriously Gino Watson?"

"Yes, why?"

"You just hit your dad when you ran into that tree, he's in the room next door. He only broke his left arm, it's no big deal minor injuries, a concussion, nothing to severe. Would you like to talk to him?"

"...no."

"Why not? Don't you want him to know what happened to you."

He told her his story about why he "ran" away from home, and the boxes in his room, and why he was coming to find his dad. But, when he got to the part of actually meeting him...his wasn't so sure.

"I don't want to talk to him, he left me when I was three, never called, never did anything for me...just left. My mom told me he was dead, and I believed it. But, after this happened to our world. I wanted to know if he was actually still alive. Now that I know he is, no I don't want to meet him. I just want to go home, back to my life, without him in it. He obviously didn't want me anyway, so why should I want to talk to him." Jake said as he drifted back to sleep.

Melinda's Mom

Mom -- what does that word mean to you? To most daughters, and even some sons, it would be someone they tell everything to, someone they can trust, and someone who is their 'best friend'. To me, and Melinda the main character in Speak, it is just a person living in our house with us who may or may not say anything to us, but it's like we know they love us but just can't show it. Melinda's mom is a lot like any other kids parents, whether it is their mom or their dad. I think the author made this character to try and connect better with their audience. 

Melinda's mom always feels like Melinda is 'trying to pull something.' Well, let's be honest here -- how many kids have ever tried to pull something over on there parents, or hide something from them? I know for a fact we have all done it whether your the 'perfect' kid, or not. I know when I try and pull stuff it usually turns into a whole big argument about why I don't want to tell my mom things. Which to me seems like what Melinda is going through too. But, her mom doesn't only do that, she argues with her husband a lot which I never really understood, but to me it looks like family problems, just in not a really big way. 

Her mom also seems like she is trying to force happiness, all of the time. Like during Halloween, when she opened the door to hand out candy you could tell that she wasn't thrilled about what was going on. She also smokes, which so do both of my parents, and I feel like that is something people do when they are upset or stressed. Which to me is kind of like unhappy. I feel like Melinda's mom, may get some if not most of her stress from either Melinda, or her job. I feel like these are the reasons, because she is constantly thinking about work, and she had to go into work on Thanksgiving, which is what really sucks about working retail, even for your family. My dad used to work in retail, and he would have to work every holiday which really sucked because we had to enjoy it without him. I also feel like Melinda could be part of her stress, because she is trying so hard to connect with her, but it just isn't working and it is making her frustrated, which must be how most parents feel when they are trying to get through to their kids and it just isn't working. 

Most kids have at least one parent like this, if not both parents, and if you don't have a parent like this your lucky. My parents aren't always like this, but they both have their moments. But, you also have to take the ups with the downs, and if you expect your life to be perfect, you better keep dreaming. 

Butterfly

Author's Note: I usually don't write author's notes because I believe that what I write should be able to tell you it's story on it's own, and not need support from an author's note. But, this one needed a little bit of explaining. In Language Arts class, we went down to the library and looked at all of the art projects. Mrs. Reagles told us to find a piece that spoke to us. Surprisingly I found my best friends art piece the one that spoke to me the most. It was a butterfly in a hand, and it was just so simple that it got me thinking about how simply things can be, if you just let them be and stop worrying. I hope you enjoy this piece!

It's the simpleness of holding a butterfly in your hand that can make you think of so many things.

It makes me think of everything I was in life before now.

Where I used to be, to what I am now; how simple things were.

It's simple, because everything doesn't have to be elaborate.

It's simple, to the point where it tells a story all on its own.

It's simple, to the point where everything about it is simple.

The story is simple.

The piece is simple.

So, why can't everything just be as simple. 

Analysis on Speak Movie to Book

Throughout both the movie and the book, the author and the director, both did a great job trying to get the point across. But, some of the scenes that were in the book and not in the movie really bothered me. There were some key scenes in the book that helped you better understand the whole message. In the beginning of the movie they added a scene in that wasn't in the book. This really bothered me because I partly understood why they put it in there, but on the other hand I also was very confused at why they would have added that. I think I liked the beginning of the book Speak a lot better than the beginning of the movie. I think this is because the book was just more explanatory than the movie, and even though you got the point in the movie in the book you get it even more. 

Also, I wanted to see Melinda do the mirror thing at the beginning of the book, where she put the mirror in her closet. I feel like this was a very important part of the book that wasn't shown in the movie. But, in the movie she is actually looking herself in the mirror and then her mom comes in the room which is something that I didn't really like. Another thing I really wanted to see too, was that she never did the basketball free throws, I don't know why this bothered me so much but it did. It almost felt to me like something they just didn't think was that important but actually was. These were some things that really bothered me between the movie and the book that was almost aggravating at points, when they didn't show the things I wanted them to. 

How to Save Business Article

Author's Note: In investing we had to learn how to properly write a business article, so this is the one I wrote. Fair warning it's about how to save for your future, and it's kind of boring. 

May 31, 2013

Mr. Heesch

Beauty and Beach Salon

111 Shark Attack Avenue

Doodlebob, KS 13964

Dear Mr. Heesch

In this How to Save article, by Sam Walton is about how saving is not optional, the problems of starting out, starting small, and the bottom line. Saving is not optional, according to Sam Walton, because “no one knows what social security is going to look like in ten years.” But, saving is also many companies will kick in money if you save for retirement. Which, can help you in the long run, because then your retirement plan could end up being almost double what it would have been without them. One of peoples biggest problems with saving though is that they think they don’t have enough money as it is, let alone any left over to save, whether it is for retirement or just because. Plus, sometimes you may not have as much to put away one month as you have before, but that’s okay. As long as you are putting something into your account each month and expecting for the worst that is all that matters. Starting small isn’t a bad thing, in fact it sets up the habit of saving every month. It doesn’t matter how much you put in because, saving is saving. But, the bottom line according to Sam Walton, is that saving for either a retirement plan, or even college, is to just start saving.

The key details the author is telling you about in this story, is that all you have to do is just start saving. You can’t be sure you are going to have a great retirement if you don’t have any money to have a great retirement with. One of the other key details in this article, is that most people feel like they have to start big, like thousands of dollars, but that is totally not true. There is no need to start with thousands of dollars, as long as you save something every month that’s all that matters, it creates the habit of saving. If you don’t save anything at all, you can’t be sure you are going to be able to do what you want to do.

Sam Walton’s purpose for writing this article, was to inform people on how to save, and why saving is a good thing to start doing. His intended audience were people probably in there early to late 20’s or early 30’s. Who have either just started a job that they are going to have for a while, or are being offered some kind of retirement plan that they are not sure about.

Sincerely

Morgan Hanson

CEO of Suits Incorporated 

Fear

Fear. It lives inside us all, whether we want to feel it or not, is up to us.
Sadness. We all feel it deep in our throats as we choke back tears, but never seem to cry.
Uncertainty. It’s all in your brain, there is a chance you will succeed, but your too afraid to try.

Why do we feel these things? We are told everyone feels these things, but I can guarantee you everyone doesn’t. There are people out there in the world with depression, but you would never know it. One of those people is me. I was diagnosed in November, with GAD and depression. But, they caught it in time, and put me on antidepressants and anxiety medication. My parents were, let’s just say, terrified. Not only for me, but with me. The side effects can be very scary. According to Karen Swartz, a psychiatrist and director of Johns Hopkins Mood Disorders Center, “[The side effects] vary from grogginess, weight gain and polycystic ovary syndrome, and many more (Lopez).” Which I am sure right now sound like some scary symptoms, but they are quite rare. There are some people who think our parents are over medicating our generation, and people who have had kids dealing with these problems , experience this and know that you pretty much have no choice if you want your kid to go back to being “normal.” I have to say that antidepressants changed my life – for the better.

"We really believe there is a place for medication for teenagers, but not for all teenagers," the founder of Kids & Co. Clinical Psychology says (Mayoh). This is reasonable, people think every parent who runs into one little thing wrong with their kids automatically takes their kid to the doctor, and the doctor gives them drugs. That is so far from the case, it’s almost unbelievable, I had to go through about four or five tests before they diagnosed me. It wasn’t something that they were handing out like candy. They actually sit down and talk to you before they make any rush decisions. That’s all that matters. If it’s helping the person, you should encourage it. Not because you want the behavior to continue, but because you want it to stop. Experts say, “The best medicine for kids is a strong support system of family, teachers and doctors (Lopez).” No one knows how much people with depression appreciate the support, no one understands how many people have told them to “just get over it” and having someone be there, just to be there, is the most amazing feeling ever.

“Young people have known themselves longer on medication than off it,” says Katherine Sharpe. As much as this is a scary thought even in my own mind, I can also understand where she is coming from. Some really, really young children have know themselves longer on medication than not, but for them it won’t last long. This is because every child goes through some stage of depression in their lives between the ages of three and nine. Usually only lasting a few months, or about a year and a half (Mayoh). Most people think teens, like me, have been on antidepressants practically since the day we were born, and as much as that would be bad, it is highly unpractical. Most people’s depression lasts a couple of months to a couple of years. But, nowhere near as long as anti-drug adults think.

 I can understand from both sides, of why to and not to have youth take antidepressants. But, being on the other side of the fence, and actually being someone on them, it makes you think about it a little differently. I know that there are some people on them that shouldn't be, and then there are people like me who if they weren't on them would not be able to get out of bed. But, as long as you show love and support to the kids and adults who are suffering from depression, you can only make their lives better – not worse. But, whatever you do never tell someone with depression to “just get over it” because at this point in their lives that is the last thing they need to hear. Plus, it’s not supportive. You are just making them dig themselves deeper into a hole, where they are going to be stuck on more antidepressants, because just as their confidence is building back up, you keep tearing them back down. The dosage will eventually go down, I promise, and for anyone out there, like me, who is dealing with this, things will get better, whether you believe it or not.

Kent Thune Report

Author's Note: I wrote this in investing following a article we worked on for a couple of months on Mutual Funds. 

Kent Thune’s main ideas in the article of Mutual Funds, where the definition of a mutual fund, baskets of investments, the advantages of mutual funds, and basic types of mutual funds. A mutual fund is and investment security type that enables investors to pool their money together. Baskets of Investments hold dozens or hundreds of stocks and bonds, but the investors do not own the holdings, but part of the mutual fund. The advantages of mutual funds are simple, investors simply do not have the knowledge or time to start making their own portfolio of stocks and bonds; buying a portfolio enables them to have a professionally managed diverse portfolio. Also, it costs as little as $1,000 to own a professionally managed diverse portfolio. There are two basic types of mutual funds, stock funds, and bond funds, plus mutual funds are cheaper and easier to start.

The key details in Kent Thune’s article where the advantages and types of mutual funds. The advantages of mutual funds are simple, diversified, and accessible. They are simple because most people don’t know how to start their own portfolio. All investors have to make sure not to but all their eggs in one basket. Plus, it doesn’t cost a lot to start investing in mutual funds. The basic types of mutual funds are stock funds and bond funds. Although most people like to invest in index funds.

I believe Kent Thune’s intended audience for his article on mutual funds, was for ‘new’ investors. People who have no idea what a mutual fund is, and have no idea how to even start making their own portfolio. His purpose for writing this article was to inform ‘new’ investors about what a mutual fund actually was, and what they advantages of having one were.

Some of the most important things to know about mutual funds for ‘new’ investors can be found in this article. Mutual fund baskets, can holds dozens to hundreds of stock/bond funds. Also, Kent Thune informs you on the advantages of mutual funds -- simplicity, diversity, and accessibility. The most common types of mutual funds are also mentioned in this article – stock funds, bond funds, and index funds seeming to be the mutual funds most gravitate toward.

My clients are my parents who are in there early 50’s and no just about nothing about mutual funds. So, this is what I have to say to inform them about mutual funds. Mutual funds have many advantages, one being how simple they actually are compared to what people think about them. Most who start investing don’t know anything or close to nothing about mutual funds. So, buying a professionally managed mutual fund, will help you in the long run for not knowing next to nothing about investing concepts and strategies. Mutual funds are also very diverse meaning that they are not going to put all your eggs in one basket, and are going to try and make you as much money as possible. They are also very accessible to anyone, because they don’t cost that much to start. Plus, with a little research anyone can get started investing in mutual funds within minutes or just a couple of hours. 

Physical Fitness?

Author's Note: This is the essay I wrote for gym on the question "What does Physical Fitness/Activity mean to you?"

Some people work out because they find it fun; others work out because they find it as a new challenge. Some people just chose not to do anything at all. I am one of those people who end up falling in between fun and a challenge. I started playing sports at a young age, and never stopped. At first it was a challenge because I knew nothing about the different sports I played. Now, it’s still a challenge, but it’s also fun.

That’s all it should be, as long as you find something you like to do, all it should be is fun but also at times a challenge. I never really wanted to play sports when I was younger, but my dad said it was one of those things that I was actually going to enjoy.

I tried soccer.

I tried basketball.

I tried gymnastics.

I tried it all.

Soccer and gymnastics were just too princess like for me, they never provided me with enough of a challenge, and most importantly they just weren’t fun. I did like basketball, it was something my cousins and I would play together on a summer afternoon at my cousins’ house. But, then one of my cousins got good, really good—I wouldn’t say great, but good enough. So, I didn’t want to be in her shadow – forever. But, that shouldn’t have mattered, and if I could go back and change it I probably would; it gave me confidence and a challenge.  But then, when I was three I started tee-ball, and bowling. It stuck ever since.

They were the things that gave me challenge. They were the things that were exciting. They were the things I actually looked forward to going to everyday, and still do. My skills got better in bowling I starting throwing hooks, my ball got heavier, and the heavier my ball got the more of a challenge it provided. Tee-ball turned into slow pitch softball by the age of 7; slow pitch turned into fast pitch by the age of 10. I got faster, had more agility, and it was exciting. I made new friends, and they also pushed me to do better.

That to me is all that matters. I just want to have fun; I don’t have to be the best in the world. I just have to be the best to myself. As long as things keep getting harder – providing more of a challenge, and as long as I keep having fun, and getting pushed to do my best, I will keep doing physical activities.

Afraid

I'm afraid.

Of everything. Of everyone.

I don't know which ways up, I don't know which ways down.

All I know is that right now

I'm standing in the middle of a dark tunnel.  

Which way I am going to turn...

I don't know 

But, I know I'm not turning there with you. 

You left me alone, because you met someone new. 

That's cool with me, I guess, if it's cool with you.

I will figure it all out...on my own -- like I always do. 

"A Clean Well-Lighted Place"

One thing that was different between the movie adaptation, and the actually story; was that the old man wasn't by the window where he was supposed to be. It bothered me a lot that he wasn't sitting by the window, because in the story it was this whole big thing that he was in the shadow of the leaves on the trees. When they were filming, yes, it may have been difficult to either sit him down outside or actually by the window. But, it shouldn't matter, if you are going to make a movie off of a story line that is already written you should have made it the way the story goes.

Not having the old man sitting by a window wasn't the only thing that bothered me. But, out of the couple of things that I did like about the adaptation, my favorite was probably when the younger waiter was serving the old man and was stomping his feet on the floor. I found this to be one of the best parts of the film because you wouldn't have really thought that he was doing that from reading the actually story. I felt like it stood for that he was really angry at the elderly man because he wasn't going home; so he just stomped across the cafe. Both of these things where very important parts to this story, and it was done and written quite well. 

Bus

There are people in the world who don't have homes, or families who love them. There are people in this world who literally have nothing. But, then you have people who decide that taking the bus is the end of their world. Seriously? If taking the bus is that bad, why don't you walk? What a concept get up off your butt and move, but that is a foreign concept in our country. I walk to and home from school, everyday. When I get to school all day long all I do is listen to people complain that the people on their bus are "weird," or there are to many people on their bus. But the kids who bother me the most are the ones who get rides from their parents so that they don't have to take the bus, and then the say that their parents wouldn't stop and get them something, or that they take "to long" in the morning. What? First of all that barely makes any sense to me. But, would you rather walk? No you wouldn't just want to walk to school, or home. It's cold, and wet, and rainy, some days are terrible and others are great but trust me you do not want to walk to or home from school at all, ever!

I suppose I'm the one who just "doesn't understand" were you are coming from, right? Wrong! I used to ride a bus from kindergarten through sixth grade but, since I live to close to school they took it away from me, when I got into middle school. So don't think I am just making all of these "assumptions" without knowing what it is really like to ride a bus, because trust me I do. I wouldn't say I loved the bus, but I wouldn't say I hated the bus either. It was one of those feelings where it was just a transportation system. Yeah the people weren't the greatest but I didn't complain about it because I didn't have to walk. Which sucks. But, with that said, yes I wasn't fond of the people on my bus, they were quite "weird" but in a good way. Which I am sure is how the people on your bus are, they just aren't like you, they are they're own person like everyone is, and you just have to accept them as who they are. In other words get over yourself you aren't perfect either. 

So the "perfect" people are the ones who think they are to good for the bus so they get a ride from their parents. Which isn't a bad thing, until you start to complain that it takes "forever" to get to school, and they won't stop a pick you up some fancy drink or whatever from Starbucks. Really? You are seriously going to make me listen to your petty complaints at seven in the morning when I just walked through snow to get here? If this is you, please, please, please, get over yourself! You are being driven to school and you don't have to sit on a bus or walk to get to school. Don't complain you didn't get your five star drink that morning. I'm sure you will live, because the last time I checked when you claimed you were going to "die without it" you were still breathing. Oh, but then you want to through in there that your parents take to long to get you to school in the morning, seriously? I'm sure that they are trying their best to get you to school in the morning. My parents feel terrible that I have to walk and told me they would give me a ride if they didn't have to leave at five to get to their own job. So you are lucky in general to either have a parent that can drop you off on their way to work, or that they stay home and it's not even that big of a deal. But, please, don't make me listen to your crazy complaints at seven in the morning.  

So if you are one of these people, don't talk to me. At least not before the sun comes up, and I have just come into school from the cold, because frankly you are not someone who I would love to deal with at that point in time. If your bus brings you to and from school, don't complain about the people on it, it's maybe twenty minutes of your life every day i'm sure you will live. Oh, and if your parents bring you, thank them for not forcing you to take the bus because I'm sure they could tell you that they don't have the time to take you to school, so you would have to take the bus. But, most importantly just get over yourself, you aren't perfect and neither is anyone else. Plus, I am quite positive no one cares about your problems with the bus, because I know we all have our own problems that are much greater than your bus issues. 

My Life

What if I don't want to tell you?

What if I don't want you to know?

That is my choice

It's my life.

I don't have to tell you

I don't have to tell anyone at all. 

They are my secrets

And when I want to tell you, I will. 

It is my life

Let me live it my own way.

Social Studies Paper

“Why did you leave?” she asked.

“We didn’t leave, well we did, but not by choice. Are homes were taken away. We were in war. We had to surrender our land to “our” country, and leave. We had to watch several of our family members die as we walked to the west to start our new lives. We couldn’t fight back, we tried. We couldn’t win war, we tried. We couldn’t defeat them they were to strong, but we tried. We, my tribe and I, we just wanted our  land, it was our home. We didn’t want control, we just wanted our  home.” He said.

“But, I don’t understand, why did they do this to you and your family?” she asked.

“In the early 19th century, the United States was expanding rapidly, growing into the lower South and westward. Settlers faced what they considered "an obstacle" the area was home to many different Indian tribes. These Indian nations, in the eyes of the settlers and many others, were standing in the way of progress. The settlers were eager for land to raise cotton, so the pressured the federal government to acquire Indian territory (Judgement Day) The years were long, and for those who made it, it was hard. The land we had to work with wasn’t good and everyone was out of their element.” He said.

…

“It was a long time ago that this happened, and as much as we didn’t know it we were scared. Just imagine having peace in your own town destroyed because certain people didn’t like you. There was this one tribe, The Cherokee, they used legal means in their attempts to save their rights. They tried to find protection from "land-hungry" settlers, who continually harassed them by stealing their livestock, burning their towns, and squatting on their land. In the early 1800's the Cherokee adopted a written constitution declaring themselves to be a sovereign nation. They based this on United States policy; in former treaties, Indian nations had been declared sovereign so they would be legally capable of ceding their lands. Now the Cherokee hoped to use this status to their advantage. The state of Georgia though did not recognize their sovereign status, but saw them as tenants living on state land. They took their case to the Supreme Court, which ruled against them (Judgement Day). Just imagine…” He stuttered.

As the little girl sat there thinking of what was going on back in these times, what her grandpa had gone through. Where she could live. She couldn’t even begin to imagine, but what she did see was scarier than your worst nightmare.

As her grandfather kept talking she started to think about what it may have been like to be told that you had to leave. Everything…behind.

  “In 1814, Jackson led an expedition against the Creek Indians climaxing in the Battle of Horse Shoe Bend, this is where Jackson's force defeated the Creeks and destroyed their military power. He then forced upon the Indians a treaty whereby they surrendered to the United States over twenty-million acres of their traditional land--about one-half of present day Alabama and one-fifth of Georgia. Over the next decade, Jackson led the way in the Indian removal campaign, helping to negotiate nine of the eleven major treaties to remove Indians.  In 1830, just a year after President Jackson took office, he pushed a new piece of legislation called the "Indian Removal Act" through both houses of Congress. It gave him the power to negotiate removal treaties with Indian tribes living east of the Mississippi. Under these treaties, the Indians were to give up their lands east of the Mississippi in exchange for land to the west. Those wishing to remain in the east would become citizens of their home state. This act affected not only the southeastern nations, but many others further north. The removal was supposed to be voluntary and peaceful, and it was that way, for those who agreed to Jackson's treaties. But for the southeastern nations, who resisted, Jackson forced them to leave… (Judgement Day) (Office of the Historian )” He didn’t want to but he continued on.

“Indian leaders were pressured to sign treaties that would give up ancestral lands in exchange for much smaller parcels in the West. The removal policy was eventually refined into the "reservation" system, with tribes being confined to specific areas of land. The area that became Kansas was considered prime space for these "emigrant" American Indians who were forced to move west. Between the years 1825 and 1850, treaties were made with more than 25 tribes to "remove" them to the region that ultimately became Kansas (Office of the Historian ).”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“It is now, but it wasn’t then.”

“Oh. What is the “Trial of Tears” then.”

“Trials of Tears" was given to the period of ten years in which over 70,000 Indians had to give up their homes and move to certain areas assigned to tribes in Oklahoma. The tribes were given a right to all of Oklahoma except the Panhandle. The government promised this land to them "as long as grass shall grow and rivers run." Unfortunately, the land that they were given only lasted till about 1906 and then they were forced to move to other reservations. Plus, this land in Oklahoma was thinly settled and was thought to have little value. Within 10 years of the Indian Removal Act, more than 70,000 Indians had moved across the Mississippi. Although , not all tribes moved as a unit. Indian Removal policy often led to divisions within tribes. In 1800 the Potawatomi claimed land in Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, and Illinois. However, between 1836 and 1841, the tribe was forced to sell these lands and to be removed beyond the Mississippi River. A large number of those living in Indiana refused to move and eventually fled to Canada to avoid military conflict. Some of the tribe stayed in Michigan and Wisconsin and only a portion of the Pottawatomi’s settled on a reservation in Kansas by 1846. In 1868 a number of the Potawatomi were removed to Indian Territory, and became known as the Citizen Band. Other portions of the tribe remained on a small reservation in Kansas, which still exists today, and is known as the Prairie Band. No matter the experiences, the various tribes were all moved into environments different than their traditional tribal lands. The people from woodlands and Great Lakes regions had maintained lifestyles based on hunting or fishing. The resources they found in Kansas were foreign to them (Indian Removal Act ). But don’t ever not be proud of who you are. You are an American Indian, and you should be proud of all your family has come through, you are the next generation of American Indians and you should be proud of that.”

“Thanks for letting me interview you for my paper Grandpa.”

“No problem!” 

See you again

"Oh...you're right. I should have told you." she said. "Your dad did rob that bank, was sent to jail, and was convicted of first degree murder. I knew you knew it was true, but I just couldn't find the words to say it. When he left town on that spring day after he robbed the bank. He left you and your sister at home, that is when I showed up to take care of you." she explained. "He is in prison now and has been for quite sometime, but it was so bad that you will...never see him again..." 

"Why?" the little boy asked.

"We will never know why he did it, or what his motive was. But one day you will see him again but it will be the day he dies, because your mom made me promise that I would never, ever let you see him again. It wasn't my choice it was hers..." she said, and it was left at that. 

Letter to You

Dear X,

You left me for something that obviously meant more to you. You have brought me down so many times I don't even know where to start. I wrote a letter, quite a few. But all of them seemed a little to "nice" to give to you. We were best friends. I remember before the drinking started, and before the smoke that filled our house. We were a happy family, got along most of the time, had our arguments, and then moved on. I remember the times on the farm, with Grandpa and Uncle Jeff. You threw that away, you left it all. Everyone you loved, everything you loved...gone. Why can't you just remember all the great things before you let this...this "thing" take you over, this isn't you. I truly don't know what is anymore. I barely know who I am anymore. You were supposed to be the person I looked up to, not the one I despised. You were supposed to be the person who taught me right for wrong, you did well on the wrong part. You were supposed to be the person I wanted to grow up to be, not the one I want to be anything but.

You raised me with a deep belief of God, we never went to church, but it was there. Me and him right now, let's just say, aren't on such great terms. He took part of my childhood because of who you are. He took part of my family. Mostly he took one of the people I love the most, even though you're still here; you aren't you. The things you say have hurt me, and are things I will never forget. I don't even know where I am anymore, where I belong. I have lost all since of direction. All of the walls around me are crumbling down, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I've cussed, I've screamed, I've fought back. None of it has worked you just keep making the wall between us bigger, as I try and break it down. Home should be a place I want to be, it's not. School should be a place I want to leave, it's not. You should be a person I want to see, your not. I should be the person I want to be, I'm not. Everything I have ever wanted I have never gotten, you are the one who comes between me and my dreams. When I try not to let the things you say bring me down, they do. I try not to show you that I am falling apart, actually I have convinced everyone that I am fine...even myself. My whole life is a lie, because of the choices and decisions you have decided to make. 

I want you back, not his "new" you, but the "old" you. I deserve that. I need that. I need you. I haven't said "I love you" to you in over a year. You saying it to me...I don't even remember.

You yell, and scream. I have convinced myself it's the alcohol talking to me, not you.

I want my life back. You took that. I want my freedom back. You have that. I want a lot of things, I know I will never get.  

I've cried to the point where there is no more tears. I've yelled to the point where there is no more words. But all I want is for you to hear me, and listen, not fight back. You used to say something to me when I was really little, it was something that I never thought truly had a meaning until now. You would say, "Sometimes you have to stand alone to prove that you can still stand", this was a phrase I heard come out of your mouth multiple times. It actually means something to me now. I don't need anyone else to help me make it through my own life. All I need is to be able to stand for what I think is right. That is all I need, no one else's approval, just my own.  

I am a strong person. I have walls, you have helped to build. They have worked to my advantage, and to my disadvantage.  I'm in an "argument" I think, with one of my friends. She is trying to get to me, and I would like to take this time to thank you for helping me build those walls. So that no one can get to me. I would also like to thank you for giving me the ability to have things to say to bring her down, but enough pride to know I have already won, and to just walk away. I would also like to say that since you've helped me build these walls, you can't get to me either, no matter what you say. You have made me the person I am, not perfect, but strong enough to stand on my own two feet. The things you've said got to me, and they cut deep. I am still standing, so you haven't knocked me down...permanently.

There are things I have done I am not proud of, and things you were supposed to teach me. There are things I have ran from because of things you have said. Will I ever apologize for the things I said to you? No. Everything I say I mean, and there is no way I will ever take it back. This was hard to say, seeing that I have never talked about it before in my life. But there are somethings you just needed to hear. I will never talk to you again, I will never apologize, and I will never be sorry for who I am. As much as I know you want to see it all. I have shed enough tears over you and it's time for me to move on. With my life, friends, family, and if you want to be a part of that something you are doing needs to change, and once it does you will realize that I will come around. But right now we are not on the same page, nor do I ever think we will be. But for now I am comfortable with who I am, with where I am, and with where I am going. 

One last thing...I was not good enough for you. Why? That is my only question. Why, did you leave me here, by myself? I will never forgive you for that. You have belittled me, and you never apologized. You don't remember anything that you have said. You were the one person who I looked up to...I will never make that mistake again. 

I'll see you when I see you. 

Morgan 

I ran...

I ran...

From everything

From everyone

I ran...

From life

From love 

I ran...

From friends 

From family

I ran...

For everything I believed in 

For everything I thought was right

I ran...

Because what I had was not what I wanted 

Because what I had was not what I deserved

I ran...

From my life

From my world

I ran...

So that I would have a chance

So that I would be able to live life my own way

I ran...

Because everything eventually ends

Because my ending was anything but perfect

I ran...

Because no one understands

Because no one understood

I ran...

To find my place

To find my home

I ran... 

To realize where I belonged

To dream a different dream

I ran...

Because you haunt me in reality 

Because you haunt me in my dreams 

I ran...

So I wouldn't have to deal with it all

So I ran...

From it all 

Past

It was terror, in a beautiful home. It was yelling and screaming, in the ornate living room. I was six, how was I supposed to know that parents were not supposed to act like that? Or that being beaten was not supposed to happen? What about having my parents putting everything else in their lives ahead of me, that was normal, wasn't it? Well apparently it's illegal.  The beating part at least but almost everything they did could not be healthy. Now I know something is wrong, right? Wrong. Well sort of wrong. I still find it all normal, this is my life. I just have to deal with it, right? Not completely I hope, I just don't want to get my parents in trouble...

It was terror? It was yelling and screaming? What was that supposed to mean? Isn't that what you grew up knowing that was normal, it was your normal. It was a time when everything was wrong because you knew best. You didn't turn your parents in. You didn't tell anyone. You lied, and now this is were you are in the police station being questioned because they pulled you from school wondering why you had so many bruises, and cuts, and broken bones. You didn't want your parents to get in trouble? You didn't know it was wrong? No one else in school looked like you, no one else was dealing with what you had to deal with...and you thought it was normal?

It was terrifying to be honest. Every day when I went to school I had to lie. Not just to my teachers, but to my friends, to my classmates and to everyone else in school. Nothing was normal no other kid was ever asked about their bumps and bruises, no, it was only me. I always wondered why no one else looked like me, or why i was the way I was. But that's who I am...not who I wanted to be...if you think I chose this than you must be insane. If you think I brought this onto myself you have NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! I was abused, beaten, thrown, and no one ever cared. I tried to tell people, it didn't work. No one believes a six year old when they say their parents beat them. But it's true, it happens, it's time for people to step into the real world and realize what is going on. The world, your home, your school. They are not safe little bubbles that you can't get hurt in. They are the real world and it's time to step into it.  

Well you were the one who didn't step up to your teachers and say these are from my mom. You are the one who wanted to keep it from everyone so that no one would get hurt. But the whole time someone was...you. But, you never did anything about it, because it was "normal." Even though you knew it really wasn't you still did nothing...

You are right I didn't pipe up and say my parents beat me. Who would? No one. Not even you, I don't care how big and tough you are you wouldn't either. My entire life was a lie to not only to myself but to everyone around me. And yes I didn't want to tell anyone and yes the whole time I was the one who was getting hurt, but for some reason I was okay with it, because I knew...someday I would be big enough and strong enough to take her down. I wasn't always going to be the one getting hurt, one day I would give her back what she deserves. That's why I am so "tough" even though I really am not. I put on that front that no one can hurt me so that no one would ask me why I was always so afraid of things. This isn't what I asked for and yes it is not "normal" but you know what it's MY normal, and that's why I didn't do anything. You know what this is me and I am okay with that because it's over and you can no longer belittle me for what happened in my past and for the choices I made, because this is my new start...

To laughter in a beautiful home.

To love and hugs in that ornate living room.

It is over now and the choices I made then will affect my future, but you can no longer judge me on my past because it is over, and this right now, right here this...this is my future. Whether I like it or not, it is better than anything I have ever had before and for me that is everything my life needs to be. 

No more terror. No more yelling and screaming. I was six. Now I am fourteen, and it has finally ended, everything is over and here I am, with a clean slate going forward, because I didn't choose my childhood but I can choose everything else that happens.

No one can ever change their past but,

you can always change your future. 

This is Me

Author's Note: I just would like you to know that this is actually true, so when you are reading it every one of these things actually happened.

 When I was three I rode my bike up and down my driveway like it was the biggest place on Earth. My parents didn’t allow me to go any farther because I wasn’t that good at it yet. All it was, was a strip of blacktop running from our garage to the front sidewalk, maybe 20 feet long. But, to me it was like I had just traveled to the moon and back without thinking anything of it.

When I was six I played with chalk like I was the best artist around. Every kid in the neighborhood should want to come draw with me because I was the best. I look back now at the pictures my dad took, I couldn’t even spell my name right. Letters were backwards, mixed around. My middle name started with a “C” instead of a “K”. Back then it didn’t matter, I thought I was cool.

When I was eight I was in the 3^rd grade, and I learned how to do flips off the monkey bars. Everyone else had already been able to do them. But, I was scared. It was the first time in my life that I think I ever felt scared. One of my parents was always there to protect me, and make sure I was doing the “right” and “safe” thing. It was the first time I was actually scared, but I did it, without thinking anything of it.

When I was nine, I cried myself to sleep for 3 months – every night. This is when it started. My mom’s dad passed away, and we were best friends, and for three months that’s all I did.

When I was ten, my mom became an alcoholic.

When I was eleven, my uncle died from cancer.

When I turned twelve, my parents thought something was wrong with me…they were right.

When I was thirteen I was diagnosed with  GAD (generalized anxiety disorder). It was the most terrifying day of my life. At first I thought I was going to die. Then, I thought that someone was going to show up at my house and take me away. I ended up at Roger’s three times, and in therapy since it started. I was afraid I was going to get judged. I was afraid of the side effects of the meds, but now, it’s like my everyday routine.

Now I’m fourteen, and my goal is to prove to people that just because you have problems doesn’t mean that every day you have to fight and argue with people –like I do.

See, everyone starts out differently. Everyone’s first enjoyable moment, like riding your bike for the first time, is different. No one’s life starts out the same, but somehow we all experience happy, sad, tragic, depressing, horrifying moments in our lives. Maybe it’s because everything always ends someday, the friends I hung out with in kindergarten I don’t even talk to anymore. Some of the kids I used to hang out with I don’t even remember, or they moved away. I also know that everyone experiences that moment of being the “best” at something even though you may not have been, and then that moment when it’s the first time you have ever felt something that you have never experienced before. The other thing I know for a fact is that everyone winds up having some sort of anxiety in their life, it doesn’t matter who you are, everyone has it. Even me.

One day,  I’ll be off medication, and back to doing all the things I want to do.

One day, I will finally realize that this is not how I want my life to end.

One day, which is hopefully coming soon, I will be “normal” again, I will laugh, and smile,  and cry and feel  all of the emotions that everybody else does.

But, one day, I will also have to face the reality that this is who I am, and something about that is never going to change.

Unless, I want it to.

But that’s up to me, no one else can make that decision – but me.

Me

Author's Note: This is the longer version of the 'This is Me' post I had, so if you would like to read the shorter one it was my last post! Other than that, hope you enjoy!

When you fall down, do you always get back up? When everyone is telling you to start over, can you? When you don't know which direction is which anymore, does it really matter?

If your world is falling down around you, and you just don't know what to do, does it matter what anyone else thinks?

I have been trying.

Everyone thinks you can just change overnight. But, I have to find out where it started. What really made me who I am, and how I can change it. It's been a long last couple of months, even years. Going through everything I have gone through isn't even explainable. Maybe that's why I stopped talking about it, because there wasn't anything left to say. But, there is a lot left to say. Maybe I stopped because I was sick of being asked so many screwed up questions, or maybe I just didn't know what to say anymore. Everyone, when they find out about me, asks all of the same questions. Like, it's recorded and on a continuous cycle, and I can't find the off button. They always ask, “Where did this all start? Why are you doing these things? Why won't you talk to us about it?” But, the thing is, I know all of the answers, I just don't want to talk about it anymore because I decided that I would when I was ready, and I wasn’t ready yet. I think it’s time to be ready though; I’m hiding from it which isn’t healthy either, so I guess…I’m ready. 

Every day, she asks me the same question. My therapist that is. Every afternoon she says, "Are you ready to talk about it today?" Every day, it's always the same answer, “no”. Then she goes into some big ordeal about why I should and whatever else she says. I tune her out most of the time just because I have heard it so many times. Then when she realizes that I am either staring at the floor, out the window, or at my hands, completely not listening to her she decides to ask me another question. Usually regarding where it started, or something along those lines. I have never answered before, because where it started I never thought I knew the answer to, but, I think I truly do now...

I was two, or was it three? It was three, I’m pretty sure. Either way I was really little. I was sitting in the middle of the living room floor playing with my baby dolls, and the phone rang. It wasn't out of the usual, I was so used to someone calling that I barely noticed my mom stagger into the living room to answer it. When I turned around to try and figure out who she was talking to, I saw her face go completely blank. She hung the phone up and walked out of the house, leaving me alone…

 For what felt like hours, but was only minutes. Till my dad came home from a call from my mom. I don't remember exactly what he said. But I do remember him coming into the house saying "Hey Hans! Want to go for a ride?" My dad and I were and still are best friends, I loved going anywhere with him. I shot up off the floor and ran outside. A few minutes later my dad came out with two suitcases, being three I really didn't think anything of it. I just climbed up into his Chevy S10 and put my arms up so that he could put my booster seat lock down from above my head. From there I fell asleep in the car, and we showed up at my grandma's house, my mom’s mom. I was really excited especially because she lives really far away. My dad and I stayed there for a few days, because my uncle had just passed away earlier that morning. It was my moms’ brother. Where my mom was I didn't know, and still don’t. 

That's the day it started, the first day that my mom would never be the same again. She drank and smoked when I was even littler than that, but it was going to get worse...fast. 

The next two questions about why I won't talk about it, and why I do these "things." Are going to need a little bit more explaining. After the day it started, the day my uncle died. A few days later my dad’s brother was diagnosed with cancer. After just losing one uncle from cancer, and then having another one diagnosed a few days later was very hard on my entire family. Especially my dad, it was his brother, and he was what my dad used to say "to young." Which I understood. Everything kind of stayed normal after that from what I remember. My uncle got his cancer removed, and was doing better. Then when I was six my grandpa John died. My dad’s mom got remarried after her husband died (my dad's dad), and I never met him. So, my grandpa John was the closest thing I had. I wouldn't say we were close, because my dad didn't really like him, and when I was that young my dad knew everything, and everything he said was right. So, I just kind of went with it. Two years after that my mom's dad passed away. It was the worst day of my life, and forever will be. 

I stood in the middle of the kitchen in my uncle's house. He just got home from the hospital, and my dad's cell phone rang. It was my mom. She was yelling over something, we still aren’t quite sure what it was, and we really don't want to know. But, from the parts we could hear, she said. "I...not going to be....home....for a few days...dad's dead...going to Tex....don't....me." We pieced it together to become "I am not going to be coming home for a few days, my dad's dead and I am going to Texas, don't call me." Two weeks later I came home from school and the police were in my driveway, talking to my dad. My mom was in the back of the squad car. The cop was talking about finding her in her car passed out, on the side of the road in Madison. How she got there, we are not sure. But when they let her out of the car and left her with us she went straight to the bar, didn't come home for three days...I looked at my dad and asked him "What's wrong with mom? Is this our life now?" He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded his head and walked away. 

The next few years were all going to be the same. She would come home from work and I would get yelled at, and then she would leave and go to the bar and may or may not come home. We didn't know, and frankly I started to not really care about her anymore. My dad told me a few weeks ago that one day when I was nine or ten I came up to him and said, "If mom ends up in jail, can we not go get her out, and just let her stay there?" He told me later that he cried himself to sleep that night knowing that I really just didn't care about her anymore. I looked at him and pretty much flat out told him I didn't. She didn't want me in her life, why should I want her in mine. I tried making her a part of my life already, all it did was make my life worse. Her drinking quickly increased to the point where I couldn't have a conversation with her that she would remember the next day, after ten in the morning. I truthfully thought she was going to drink herself to death. I still do.

Now that I have told you my entire life story. I can finally explain the rest with it making sense. I ended up at Roger's 3 months ago, and went back a few days ago. Two years, three months, and 20 days ago, my uncle passed away from cancer. Yes, the one who was diagnosed a few days after my other uncle passed away. I stopped talking, I refused to go to school, I was so depressed I could barely say three words to someone before I got really angry and started slamming doors and yelling. I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder in November and went into Roger's for the first time in January. I get anxiety attacks, and sometimes I will pinch and scratch myself till I bleed just so that I know that I am still alive. My therapist, everyday asks me "Why do you do these things?" I can honestly say I do not know. I know I feel like my world is crumbling, and the person I want out of my life most keeps coming back. I was put back into Roger's a few days ago, by choice. I felt like it was in my best interest to go back. So, I did. 

It was a different experience. But, it was one I needed. A couple days after I came home I was texting one of my really close friends about it. I told her that it was weird the first time, but it wasn’t as bad the second. She actually said she was proud of me. Which is something I needed, because at this point in time I don’t know who I am, I barely know where I am. I feel like rolling into a ball on the floor and just giving up. But, I know if I give up I will be the kind who, “Couldn’t hold it together.” Or, the kid who, “Just didn’t know how many people actually care.” The thing is, everyone says that, everyone says that about kids like me. But, the thing is, that we know how many people believe in us. But, no one wants to show their support for the “problem” kid. You don’t understand us, until you have lived through what we have…and trust me, and everyone else like me, you don’t want to live through any of the things we have.

Everyone thinks, I'm that happy kid. The one who always has a smile on her face, and is laughing at something. But, it's not the case. I am a happy kid on the outside, so that no one can see that I am crumbling on the inside. I didn't ever talk about it, because I felt like so many people have it so much worse, that I don't have the right to complain.

But, I have an alcoholic parent, and I am one of those kids who have it “worse.” The kids whose parents wouldn’t buy them a $100 pair of shoes for their birthday, think that they can complain about how much their parents “hate them.” I haven’t gotten a birthday present from my mom since I was three…get over it. I don't show emotion, because I don't want anyone to see me as “weak.” But, if I was weak I wouldn't still be here.

But, it's time for me to "start over", and I finally know what that means. I need to breathe, and take a step in the right direction, not the right direction for anyone else, but the right direction for me. Which is toward the light at the end of this dark tunnel I have been stuck in since I was three. I have hidden in the shadows of this tunnel I dug myself into for way to long. It’s time to see the world again. I will still be me, the kid with no filter, and the kid who will stick up for herself, and everyone else, no matter circumstance nor person…

That is who I am. This is who I am. I am me.

If you have a problem with that, I never asked you to be part of my life anyway.

This is my first step towards the end of this tunnel, and as afraid as I am, I will not run anymore.

It's time to be me...finally.