A Boy Who Loved Fire

     Jackson was the precarious boy in the neighborhood.  He was the one that no one ever let their kids associate with.  His father was a firefighter which could explain Jackson's unusual obsessions with fire.  His favorite holiday, of course, was fourth of July where he could set off loud firecrackers all night acceptably.  One year, however, his fun was short lived because his neighbor rudely reported him to the police as a disturbance to her peace.  The police came and took all of his firecrackers, ruining his whole holiday.  Little did the persnickety neighbor know of how much carnage would ensue.
     Jackson started with the basement.  He loaded the foundation with real TNT.  He covered the walls in gas and laid out fuses in a spiderweb.  He knew just enough about fire to know how to destroy the house with maximum suffrage on the inside.  In fact, Jackson wanted one to run outside.  He wanted to melt them.  He wanted to make them suffer.  He lit the fuses and backed into the front yard, poised in case someone came out.  After about 30 seconds, the house lit in flames.  Instantly, screaming was heard and Jackson laughed.  His mind was sick and demented.  His mind was that of a devil inside a child's body, waiting to get out.  The mom ran out crying, baby in hand.  All the better, Jackson thought.  He turned on the gas hose and lit the flame in front. The fireball flew out enveloping the distraught mother with her hysterical baby.  He stopped the gas flow and watched the show.  She stopped, dropped, and rolled, but the flame wouldn't go out.  It couldn't go out!  Jackson's laughs were robust as he watched the mom suffer in the fire.  What caught his attention was her eyes.  They were that of pure terror.  She had failed to save her family inside who were still screaming, trapped in their rooms.  Anyone who saw the crime scene afterwards saw a mom and a baby boy laying in the lawn as piles of ashes.  They also saw girl laying broken on the ground making faint noises of agony, for she had jumped out of her window and landed on her neck.  She was paralyzed and soon died after hours of suffering.  A dad was simply in his room, burned to death on his floor for the fire had taken over as soon as he opened his door.  Jackson had died of a heart attack.  He died of a heart attack from overjoy.  The devil inside had killed him, and moved to its next victim.

Rhapsody in Blue

Alison and the Bear

     She ran as fast as she could away from the tremendously terrifying grizzly.  She tripped.  Her heart stopped.  The bear ripped her head off and killed her in an instant.  It roared.  It ate her intestines like spaghetti and played jump rope with them, basking in its glorious kill of an ignorant hiker.
     Earlier that day, Alison was with a group of her best friends traversing the rural mountains of America.  They arrived upon their first camp site and instantly set up their tents preparing for the long night ahead.  Alison was the leader of the group, so it wasn't surprising she ambitiously and irrationally decided to go hiking instead of fishing for food.  They agreed because Alison had killed someone in the past for disobeying her.  In fact, this occurred yesterday in the canyons of Yosemite.
     Early in the morning after a night of camping Jasmine had subconsciously rolled over and threw her arm over Alison.  Upon awaking, Alison was in a fury.
     "GET YOUR HAND OFF ME!" she exclaimed with terror in her voice.
     "Oh, I am so sorry Alison," she apologized with desperation.  Without another word, Alison ripped Jasmine out of the tent by her hair.  Jasmine winced in agony.  Alison pulled her by her hair all the way to the cliff that lay through the trees surrounding their campsite.  There were many cliffs in Yosemite and Alison's plan involved utilizing them to relieve her anger. 
     "Stop Alison!  You can't do this!" she exclaimed with absolute terror in her voice. 
     "Shut up!" Alison screamed taking her boot and smashing into Jasmine's nose as hard as possible.  Jasmine winced slightly, but was quite silent afterwards.  The kick broke her entire face, specifically her jaw, so she couldn't even talk.  All she could do was sit an remain a victim of Alison's rage.  She pulled Jasmine to the cliff and threw her off the side without hesitation.  Jasmine's eyes were wide as she fell to the hard bottom of the valley.  Her head smashed open revealing a brain, a developing brain full of potential that is now just food for the vultures. 
     Alison's anger was now well known within her group of friends.  They didn't want to ignore her for fear of her noticing, but they were afraid of close contact as well.  One mistake in Alison's eye would mean death for the perpetrator.  They continued their hike into the dark and Alison had no intent on turning back.  Upon the nearing sunset, the group of friends united together against Alison because their desperation for survival overcame their caution. 
     "We're going to leave now Alison-"
     "No you're not!  You're all staying right here!" she barked back with a savage tone of voice. 
     "You can't control five people Alison.  We're going back," a girl said supressing her true fear of defiance. 
     "Fine, leave me alone.  I don't care."  They left her alone in the forest where she screamed and let the whole ecosystem know of her emotions.  Unfortunately the bear, the king of the animals and the forest, heard and wanted.  Just overcoming hibernation, the bear was hungry for food, and a small teenage girl was just perfect.  It followed her using its keen eyesight, nose, and ears.  It evolved over millions of years into the perfect hunting machine.  It got closer and closer to the unsuspecting Alison who was throwing rocks at rabbits and birds.  This put mother nature on the bear's side.  The bear found her, and the chase began.  The chase commenced.  The chase ended with a delicious meal for a hungry bear. 
 

Success and it's Glory

     As you probably know, I auditioned for the prestigious honor of a seat in one of the Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestras.  During the preparation and execution of the audition, my feelings about succeeding were objective.  I didn't truly have a particular preference for one of the two orchestras I was eligible for, and I didn't mind if I didn't make it!  After I traveled all the way to Chicago and auditioned for them, I was very proud of my sound and felt I actually had a chance to get in.  These thoughts gave me hope that I previously lacked before the audition.
     I've been checking the mail lately for any respondence from the CYSO concerning results, but these efforts were futile.  The end of May is nearing, and the letter still hasn't come like they promised.  Then I log onto my Facebook just to check on my Relay team and for a little information about people I don't actually talk to or associate with in "real life".  I see a message from Nick saying "What did you make?".  Well, this phrase meant to me "What did you get on the Geography final?" or "What did you make for CYSO?".  Just to clarify, I asked him what he was asking and he clarified that he was inquiring about CYSO.  He told me to check my email for the results.  My heart started racing.  After all this wait to see what this one measly email says.  I open up my mom's email considering she registered her email with our audition forms and saw one email from "Chicago Youth Symphony Orchestras".  This was it!  Was it for Joe or me?  I opened it while holding my breath and with a relief and exultance read that I had been placed into the CYSO's Concert Orchestra!  I succeeded in my efforts and they paid off!  I'm in for an experience I won't soon forget.

A Eulogy

     Good afternoon fellow family and friends who mourn here over this body about the life and memories of the passed John Wilkes Booth.  My condolences go out to those who were closest to him, and I hope that my expressions of memories will bring your heart and minds to a more stoic state.  John Wilkes Booth was always determined and had overflowing perseverance.  When he said he would do something, it was easily assumable that he would do just that.  In fact, one day he came up to me and said "I'm going to kill the president."  All I said was,"Okay."  At that time, I wasn't truly interested in his plan for success and glory, but as time grew on, John and I had a few conversations that lead to our teamwork.  His "I'm going to kill the president" turned into an "I will kill President Abraham Lincoln", which caused a small hint of anxiety to ensue in my heart.  Did I really want to go through with this?  I didn't have the determination to commence any further with his plans of a theater murder.  John and I began to grow apart as Abraham Lincoln's plans began and the Civil War grew.  The next thing I knew I was drafted into the Confederate Army and my connection to the news was over.  I wondered "Did John follow through?  When doesn't John follow through?"  Even at gunpoint, I knew John Wilkes Booth would follow through just like he always does.  His hard head of determination gave him a competitive edge against everyone.  John was a successful human being, and as soon as I returned home and learned of his achievement I instantly filled with rejoice just as all of you did in the kitchen on the day of the news.  John Wilkes Booth will forever be missed, but it is hopeful and soothing to our souls that the memories we have of him are that of success and determination.  You will always be in our hearts.    

And the Award Goes To...

     Theoretically, or imaginatively, let's create a character named Grace.  Grace is a member of the band program at her school which happens to be very large and prestigious.  She works moderately hard on her instrument and is a respectable and attentive student who is always eager to learn.  As her band director gets on the podium and starts to discuss summer camps for music, she instantly begins her wistful and hoping thoughts.  "I would love to go to a music camp!  I think it would help me become a better musician!"  She goes home, does her research and asks her parents who respond with a median "We really hope you can go, but maybe pick a cheaper one because these camps are very expensive" attitude.
     Grace returns to her band class the next day with a new perspective on music.  She goes home and practices for one hour instead of just thirty minutes because she wants to improve and make the best out of whatever band camp she goes to.  On the podium, her band director discusses scholarships.  This instantly gets Graces attention, and she is listening with a keen ear.  Once she gets home, she prints off the scholarship application and gets to work on her 200 word essay.  Now, this is no small feat for Grace because writing is not her forte like math and science.  In fact, she considered this essay hard and stressful because of it's value and importance.  After her parents help her proofread, she takes it to her English teacher so he can proofread it as well.  All of this effort goes into an essay that Grace considers to be the best essay she's ever written.  She is proud to put it in her band director's folder and cannot wait for the awards ceremony to see if she received the much needed scholarship.

     "Maybe if I get this scholarship, my parents will be more inclined to grant me permission to go to a nicer summer music camp.  I can only give so much money because I don't have a job considering my busy summer school schedule.  I really need this!"

     The Band Awards role around and Grace's anxiety is paralyzing.  She goes and sits with some of her friends from band, applauding as people around her win awards.  One boy gets her attention as he wins an award and scholarship for being an outstanding Freshman musician.  She expressed her congratulations and knew him as being someone in the upper Freshman band while she was in the lower one.  Then the portion of the Awards changes to the scholarships that Grace had applied for.  Her heart is racing, anxious to hear her name called.  They read through the list of names and one of them is the same name that received the outstanding Freshman musician.
     "That's awesome that he gets two scholarships!  His parents must be very proud," she thinks to herself as the last of the names are read off.  To her surprise, Grace's name was never uttered.  Everyone goes up to receive their generous $250 scholarships to their music camps, as well as the boy who won another scholarship for his camp as well.  Here Grace sits with zero scholarships while another boy sits with two.  Grace is scared her parents will be mad at her so she never brings up the camp again.  She loses interest in practicing alone over the summer and drops out of band the next year.  All of this is because of one boy who won two, while Grace won none.

     Are awards ceremonies worth it?  I think an award should be an internal accomplishment, not a public affair.  This story could easily happen after tonight, but let's hope that the person who won none has a strong soul, and let's hope that the person who won two knows how lucky he is.  


         

A Mexican Folklore (2)

     Abila wasn't as presumptuous in her social life and in fact, she was very content on being alone.  Abilia wasn't the type of girl anyone would think was a narcissistic and unstable human being.  Those who knew her well were quite aware of this situation, and were keeping it clandestine from the rest of the world.  This precipitous situation was soon going to elevate into a compelling mystery for the whole country of Mexico.
     Abila and her family woke up one Sunday morning, long before Abila's polemical and shadowed problem.  Abila was actually a normal, outgoing girl who was objective to the world around her.  She didn't care about her ludicrous living conditions and she didn't care about going to the United States.  She didn't know that this pernicious expedition was longed for by her parents.  On this Sunday morning, Abila's parents woke her up saying,"We're going to be free; wake up."  Abila did so without question although she had many.  The United States was only a 45 minute drive away, but to Abila it seemed like hours.  The fence she saw between her and the United States bothered her.  "Why can't we go over there?" she asked.  Her parents pushed off this inquisition and told her to get outside and stay behind the car as they examined the situation.  Almost instantly after her parents left the safety of the car, two gun shots boomed from above killing both of Abila's parents.  The event seemed to occur in slow motion, but as soon as Abila heard the shots, she sprinted as fast as she could.  Surprisingly, they did not shoot her, but her assumptions concluded that it's because of her child innocence.  As she ran she thought of the life that she used to have and the way it will soon be.  Little did she know that the bad things were just beginning.