D.C Sniper

                October 7^th, 2002. Crowds of 12, 13, and 14 year olds rushing and whispering. A windy, overcast day, a day you wake up with a feeling of uneasiness. We are rustled in the dark of Benjamin Tasker Middle school’s gym as we enter for our morning classes. “What’s going on” is said here, “he’s dead” said there, whose dead? Entering my class, my teacher with her face in her hands, a sob she tries to resist, a sense of strength she’s trying to find, but finally it’s uncontrollable. Outside of my algebra class the bloodstains, the ambulances, the endless cop cars surround the entrance of our school. A young life robbed from my very school? The D.C Sniper, attacked us? That’s not supposed to happen to us. So young so innocent, but now so lost, and helpless. Then, the news. He survived! Critical care but he’s one of the “lucky ones”. How lucky can you be in a situation such as this?

The safe haven we are suppose to see as our school is now a desolate building to which our parents are wary to send us back. How do you come back from a moment that was so viciously taken from you? The nightmares, the looks over your shoulder while you rush into a place you resist coming to in the first place.

October 24, 2002 a day of reverence. The D.C sniper and his accomplice were caught. A slow sigh of relief, a moment you can never forget, but now a time where you can at least try.

Point: Every day is a gift, do not take them for granted.

The Worst of the Worst, The Best of the Best

“Were going to Miami on a field trip!” my algebra teacher in high school said to us on the first day of class. He was so eccentric and full of great ideas on how to learn. I was inspired and I couldn’t wait for what was next.

                A whisper in your ear to the point you can feel his hot breath on your neck, caressing of your hair, and a hand on your shoulder is what was next. My teacher sexually harassed more than half of the girls in our class.

                I loathe anything to do with mathematics. (Word Count 100)

Assigned seats, a student’s worst nightmare. However, all of my best friends were in the M and N’s, I was excited. I find my seat and am sitting behind the A’s away from everyone. AP History, already a dreadful class, was now my least favorite to attend. My teacher kept me after class one day and expressed his reasoning for the seating adjustment. He believed in me. He separated me from distractions to help me flourish and that I did. I scored a 4 on the AP exam and finally discovered my capabilities. All it takes is that one person to believe. (Word Count 100)