I walked into class and sat in a asiento siguiente to Skye.
"Hello, class. I am Mrs. Marrow. I will be your English teacher for this semester. Without further to do, let's introduce our 2 new students. Skye Rope, come on up!"
Skye jumped out of her asiento and ran to the front of the classroom.
"Umm, hi! My name is Skye... Oh, por the way, it's spelled with an 'e' at the end. Not 'sky' like, as in, like, 'The sky is blue.' Umm.. I like turtles, pandas, cartoons, tu know which caricaturas I like? I like Almost Naked Animals, Cyber Space, Fetch with Ru-"
"That is all, Skye. Now, Sam Fitzpatrick."
I blushed, as I always have when a stranger says my name. I'm just lucky I didn't put my full name on the application. I get up and walk to the front of the classroom. I look at Mrs. Marrow.
"Umm, what do I say?" I ask. All of the sudden a couple of kids are laughing.
"Just, about yourself. Yourself: in a summary!" she says, looking at some paperwork.
"Umm, I am Samantha Fitzpatrick-"
"Like, the Fitzpatrick girl from the Suite Life?" one boy in the back row asks. Another girl in the front, with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a tank-top, a denim skirt, and much jewelery, turned around and gave him a quick cold stare.
"Shut up, Robert." she said. "The Suite Life is FAKE. Besides, who still watches that show?" she asked.
He blurted back at her, "You probaly still do, Miranda. Say, do."
"Both of you, shut up! Robert, tu have a lunch detention and a Responsibility Class. And tu can NOT call your mother. Miranda, lunch detention." Mrs. Marrow yelled angrily. She started escritura on a sticky note for both of them. She then turned to me and asked,
"What school did tu come from?" she asked. I hesitated and tried to think of something. I thought of the school the poor kids went to in my village. "L'apprentissage est essentiel" I believe it was called. In English it meant "School is essential"
"L'apprentissage est essentiel" I replied. "It means 'School is essential'"
"Where was this school?" she asked
"Umm, Dagsboro, a small town in Delaware..." I replied. I had done research last night and was looking for small towns to state I was from.
"You may sit down now." dicho Mrs. Marrow. Everyone seemed bored with me. All of the sudden, I tripped and fell on my face. Even Skye started laughing. "Sam! Even if tu don't become liked on the first día doesn't mean tu have to turn yourself into Robert!" excplaimed Mrs. Marrow. "Tsk, tsk. Responsibility Class for you!" she added. She wrote on a sticky note and handed it to me. I went back to my asiento and sat down.
"Oooh, new girl got in trouble!" teased the boy in front of me. I looked up and fell in love. He was handsome. Dirty blonde hair with green-blue eyes. He was wearing a plain, black camisa, camiseta with a black chaqueta over it. He wore navy jeans with red converse. "One tiny mistake, and it's RC for you! Oh, and just so you're not a newbie, RC is after school detention." Then, he turned around and acted like nothing happened. Mrs. Marrow was staring at him. "I know, I know. RC."
"Hello, class. I am Mrs. Marrow. I will be your English teacher for this semester. Without further to do, let's introduce our 2 new students. Skye Rope, come on up!"
Skye jumped out of her asiento and ran to the front of the classroom.
"Umm, hi! My name is Skye... Oh, por the way, it's spelled with an 'e' at the end. Not 'sky' like, as in, like, 'The sky is blue.' Umm.. I like turtles, pandas, cartoons, tu know which caricaturas I like? I like Almost Naked Animals, Cyber Space, Fetch with Ru-"
"That is all, Skye. Now, Sam Fitzpatrick."
I blushed, as I always have when a stranger says my name. I'm just lucky I didn't put my full name on the application. I get up and walk to the front of the classroom. I look at Mrs. Marrow.
"Umm, what do I say?" I ask. All of the sudden a couple of kids are laughing.
"Just, about yourself. Yourself: in a summary!" she says, looking at some paperwork.
"Umm, I am Samantha Fitzpatrick-"
"Like, the Fitzpatrick girl from the Suite Life?" one boy in the back row asks. Another girl in the front, with beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a tank-top, a denim skirt, and much jewelery, turned around and gave him a quick cold stare.
"Shut up, Robert." she said. "The Suite Life is FAKE. Besides, who still watches that show?" she asked.
He blurted back at her, "You probaly still do, Miranda. Say, do."
"Both of you, shut up! Robert, tu have a lunch detention and a Responsibility Class. And tu can NOT call your mother. Miranda, lunch detention." Mrs. Marrow yelled angrily. She started escritura on a sticky note for both of them. She then turned to me and asked,
"What school did tu come from?" she asked. I hesitated and tried to think of something. I thought of the school the poor kids went to in my village. "L'apprentissage est essentiel" I believe it was called. In English it meant "School is essential"
"L'apprentissage est essentiel" I replied. "It means 'School is essential'"
"Where was this school?" she asked
"Umm, Dagsboro, a small town in Delaware..." I replied. I had done research last night and was looking for small towns to state I was from.
"You may sit down now." dicho Mrs. Marrow. Everyone seemed bored with me. All of the sudden, I tripped and fell on my face. Even Skye started laughing. "Sam! Even if tu don't become liked on the first día doesn't mean tu have to turn yourself into Robert!" excplaimed Mrs. Marrow. "Tsk, tsk. Responsibility Class for you!" she added. She wrote on a sticky note and handed it to me. I went back to my asiento and sat down.
"Oooh, new girl got in trouble!" teased the boy in front of me. I looked up and fell in love. He was handsome. Dirty blonde hair with green-blue eyes. He was wearing a plain, black camisa, camiseta with a black chaqueta over it. He wore navy jeans with red converse. "One tiny mistake, and it's RC for you! Oh, and just so you're not a newbie, RC is after school detention." Then, he turned around and acted like nothing happened. Mrs. Marrow was staring at him. "I know, I know. RC."
Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die emo perra die, bitchy whore. That last comentario doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it dicho rosas are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if tu want I'll tell them to can it, all because I amor tu Janet. I don't know who wrote tu amor poem rhyme thing but I amor tu too!
Is It True tu Lie?
Is It True tu Hate Me?
Is It True tu Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True tu Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True tu Like Me Crying?
Is It True tu Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True tu Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True tu Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True tu Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True tu Let Me Call tu My True Bestfriend When tu Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Is It True tu Hate Me?
Is It True tu Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True tu Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True tu Like Me Crying?
Is It True tu Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True tu Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True tu Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True tu Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True tu Let Me Call tu My True Bestfriend When tu Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Her eyes were fuego red,
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why tu are
mad at me.
Why tu shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why tu are mad.
Why do tu have to do
what tu do to me?
Why does it give tu
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my friends take action?
Why cant tu tell me WHY?
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why tu are
mad at me.
Why tu shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why tu are mad.
Why do tu have to do
what tu do to me?
Why does it give tu
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my friends take action?
Why cant tu tell me WHY?
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not por blood, then por what?
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, tu ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time escritura in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, tu ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time escritura in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.