Memoir
The Porsche
The Porsche
By Jonah Gluck
By Jonah Gluck
As I look back, I still hear that voice in my head.
As I look back, I still hear that voice in my head.
“Get up! Get ready,” my dad was saying to me as I lay in bed pretending to still sleep.
“Get up! Get ready,” my dad was saying to me as I lay in bed pretending to still sleep.
Eventually, I got bored and got dressed. Today was the day we were going back to my grandpa’s house. It was a small yellow ranch with an attached garage. The windows were musty and dirty. The grass along the sidewalk was long and untended. My dad and I were there for a reason; today was the day we were going to fix up my dad's old car, a Porsche 911.
Eventually, I got bored and got dressed. Today was the day we were going back to my grandpa’s house. It was a small yellow ranch with an attached garage. The windows were musty and dirty. The grass along the sidewalk was long and untended. My dad and I were there for a reason; today was the day we were going to fix up my dad's old car, a Porsche 911.
We opened the garage and walked inside. It was like a workshop or hobby shop put into a room smaller than a bedroom. There I saw it with custom mats, tires and steering wheel all designed by Porsche. The trunk was up so it revealed the engine (It was an older car so the engine was in the back). It was a six-cylinder engine. The car was like a reminder of my grandpa. Once it was a new car, fast and pristine. Now it was no longer running.
We opened the garage and walked inside. It was like a workshop or hobby shop put into a room smaller than a bedroom. There I saw it with custom mats, tires and steering wheel all designed by Porsche. The trunk was up so it revealed the engine (It was an older car so the engine was in the back). It was a six-cylinder engine. The car was like a reminder of my grandpa. Once it was a new car, fast and pristine. Now it was no longer running.
“Here’s what we have to do, tune up the engine, fix the left front headlight, and put air in the tires," my Dad told me.
“Here’s what we have to do, tune up the engine, fix the left front headlight, and put air in the tires," my Dad told me.
“Ok, I’ll start with the headlight,” I responded. I crawled under the dashboard with my phone's flashlight. It was dark and tight, and I felt like I was stuck.
“Ok, I’ll start with the headlight,” I responded. I crawled under the dashboard with my phone's flashlight. It was dark and tight, and I felt like I was stuck.
I moved on, and went to get the air pump. It was a large orange box with a heavy metal tube. I couldn’t lift it on my own so I called my dad over. Together we managed to move it. I went around the car taking the cap off the tires, filling air into it, and moving to the next. It took a while, but it wasn’t as hard as I expected. When I finished, I packed up the air pump and walked back to where my dad was. He was packing up.
I moved on, and went to get the air pump. It was a large orange box with a heavy metal tube. I couldn’t lift it on my own so I called my dad over. Together we managed to move it. I went around the car taking the cap off the tires, filling air into it, and moving to the next. It took a while, but it wasn’t as hard as I expected. When I finished, I packed up the air pump and walked back to where my dad was. He was packing up.
I connected a few wires, and after struggling to get out for around 15 minutes, I inserted the key and started the engine. Thankfully, when I got to the front both lights worked! I pulled out the key and went to the engine to check on my dad. He was still working on it.
I connected a few wires, and after struggling to get out for around 15 minutes, I inserted the key and started the engine. Thankfully, when I got to the front both lights worked! I pulled out the key and went to the engine to check on my dad. He was still working on it.
“Almost done.”
“Almost done.”
"The car was like a reminder of my grandpa. Once it was a new car, fast and pristine. Now it’s no longer running. "
"The car was like a reminder of my grandpa. Once it was a new car, fast and pristine. Now it’s no longer running. "
“Did you have fun?”
“Did you have fun?”
“How could I not have fun? I learned so much about cars, and I was with you the whole time!”
“How could I not have fun? I learned so much about cars, and I was with you the whole time!”
I couldn’t have spent that day any better than I did. I loved thinking back to that car and what it meant to my dad and now me, but what made it even better was that this all took place at my grandpa's house, a few weeks after his funeral. It was a very emotional and sentimental thing to go back into his house. I expected to be greeted by his smiling, happy face, but I wasn’t, and the sadness was like a rush through my body. I thought back on how I had had so much time I could have spent with him, but that time was now gone.
I couldn’t have spent that day any better than I did. I loved thinking back to that car and what it meant to my dad and now me, but what made it even better was that this all took place at my grandpa's house, a few weeks after his funeral. It was a very emotional and sentimental thing to go back into his house. I expected to be greeted by his smiling, happy face, but I wasn’t, and the sadness was like a rush through my body. I thought back on how I had had so much time I could have spent with him, but that time was now gone.
***
My Nine Lives
My Nine Lives
By Destini Gaeckler
By Destini Gaeckler
I think I have nine lives! The reason this MUST be true is that I should’ve died at least three time since my birth; heck, I should’ve died when I was born. I guess I should probably start at the beginning of my story.
I think I have nine lives! The reason this MUST be true is that I should’ve died at least three time since my birth; heck, I should’ve died when I was born. I guess I should probably start at the beginning of my story.
It was a normal day in March (or so I’ve been told, since, keep in mind, I hadn’t been born yet). My mum was at the doctor’s. Yes, I said MUM - that’s how I speak– ‘tis a thing. So, as I was saying, when my Mum was at a doctor’s appointment, they popped the sack early. Basically, while my mum was giving birth to moi, which is already supposedly a very VERY painful experience (especially since she didn’t have an epidural), I almost killed us both because I got stuck. Yep, stuck right up in ‘er pelvic bone. So that was the first time I almost died. I’m sure it wasn’t a great experience for either of us. That’s one down, eight to go!
It was a normal day in March (or so I’ve been told, since, keep in mind, I hadn’t been born yet). My mum was at the doctor’s. Yes, I said MUM - that’s how I speak– ‘tis a thing. So, as I was saying, when my Mum was at a doctor’s appointment, they popped the sack early. Basically, while my mum was giving birth to moi, which is already supposedly a very VERY painful experience (especially since she didn’t have an epidural), I almost killed us both because I got stuck. Yep, stuck right up in ‘er pelvic bone. So that was the first time I almost died. I’m sure it wasn’t a great experience for either of us. That’s one down, eight to go!
The next part of our story begins four years later on the great Island of St. LUCIA, THE HELEN OF THE WEST, where my mum grew up. As we were preparing to head to a funeral (ironic, I know), my mummy and aunt were cooking breakfast, when I, being the impatient squirt that I was (and still am), decided that I just COULDN’T wait one second longer, so I snitched and swallowed a whole boiled egg. Yes, in fact, I realize that I am an idiot, but please do remember that I was only four at the time and my judgment was not exactly the best. So there I was, choking on an egg, and everyone was panicking. I kept hacking and coughing, but I just could not seem to dislodge it. I began clawing at my throat, when suddenly my uncle came to his senses, flipped me upside down, holding me by my ankles, and began to slap me on my back until the egg finally flew out of my mouth. I could breathe again! That’s two lives down, seven left (I hope!).
The next part of our story begins four years later on the great Island of St. LUCIA, THE HELEN OF THE WEST, where my mum grew up. As we were preparing to head to a funeral (ironic, I know), my mummy and aunt were cooking breakfast, when I, being the impatient squirt that I was (and still am), decided that I just COULDN’T wait one second longer, so I snitched and swallowed a whole boiled egg. Yes, in fact, I realize that I am an idiot, but please do remember that I was only four at the time and my judgment was not exactly the best. So there I was, choking on an egg, and everyone was panicking. I kept hacking and coughing, but I just could not seem to dislodge it. I began clawing at my throat, when suddenly my uncle came to his senses, flipped me upside down, holding me by my ankles, and began to slap me on my back until the egg finally flew out of my mouth. I could breathe again! That’s two lives down, seven left (I hope!).
My most recent story of near death experiences is the one I recall the most, probably because when it happened, I was six years old, and I actually can remember it well; thus, it is the hardest and most vivid memory to talk about, so I can’t be as light-hearted in my delivery (pun completely intended!). Although I wasn’t actually that high up, to a six year old, it seemed like the Empire State building.
My most recent story of near death experiences is the one I recall the most, probably because when it happened, I was six years old, and I actually can remember it well; thus, it is the hardest and most vivid memory to talk about, so I can’t be as light-hearted in my delivery (pun completely intended!). Although I wasn’t actually that high up, to a six year old, it seemed like the Empire State building.
"So there I was, choking on an egg, and everyone was panicking."
"So there I was, choking on an egg, and everyone was panicking."
And with no firemen in sight, I decided to lower myself through a narrow teeny tiny crook in the tree branches. I slipped, and found myself dangling by my neck six feet above the ground. My head, yes, the one that caused all that trouble at birth, was stuck in the crook of the branch. Furthermore, no one was watching or rescuing me from my predicament. My legs were flailing; as I desperately tried to lift myself up, my arm muscles were straining to grasp onto something, and I could feel the rough bark compressing around my head and neck, which was slowly turning blue. My father, who suddenly noticed my peril, ran toward me, and I plunged to the ground, miraculously unscathed.
And with no firemen in sight, I decided to lower myself through a narrow teeny tiny crook in the tree branches. I slipped, and found myself dangling by my neck six feet above the ground. My head, yes, the one that caused all that trouble at birth, was stuck in the crook of the branch. Furthermore, no one was watching or rescuing me from my predicament. My legs were flailing; as I desperately tried to lift myself up, my arm muscles were straining to grasp onto something, and I could feel the rough bark compressing around my head and neck, which was slowly turning blue. My father, who suddenly noticed my peril, ran toward me, and I plunged to the ground, miraculously unscathed.
Thus concludes my tales of woe, hopefully NOT to be resumed anytime soon. After all, I need my remaining six lives to last me many decades!
Thus concludes my tales of woe, hopefully NOT to be resumed anytime soon. After all, I need my remaining six lives to last me many decades!
***
"The once high standing maple tree with full leaves and blossoming flowers that flourished through the wind, crumbled and wilted in front of me in seconds."
"The once high standing maple tree with full leaves and blossoming flowers that flourished through the wind, crumbled and wilted in front of me in seconds."
*Note: Please do not hesitate to reach out if you or someone you know is thinking of hurting themselves or others. Your teachers, guidance counselors and administrators are looking out for you and want to help.
Sinner
Sinner
-Anonymous
-Anonymous
Soon after I met her, I had become more depressed and emotionless. I wouldn’t have the strength to do things anymore, I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t eat much either. The truth is, I was suffering; I couldn’t handle it, all the pain she had put me through. I was made into a mutant by her evil lies and was wounded by her devilish ways. No one spoke to me anymore, all they did was silently judge me from afar, and they all thought that I was disgusting and inhumane, but the only revolting person was her. How dare she? How dare she make me into this psychotic thing people would now perceive me as. How dare she kill the last bit of hope I had for friendship? How could she strip me of my pride so relentlessly?
Soon after I met her, I had become more depressed and emotionless. I wouldn’t have the strength to do things anymore, I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t eat much either. The truth is, I was suffering; I couldn’t handle it, all the pain she had put me through. I was made into a mutant by her evil lies and was wounded by her devilish ways. No one spoke to me anymore, all they did was silently judge me from afar, and they all thought that I was disgusting and inhumane, but the only revolting person was her. How dare she? How dare she make me into this psychotic thing people would now perceive me as. How dare she kill the last bit of hope I had for friendship? How could she strip me of my pride so relentlessly?
But even so, I was a coward; I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone, what would she do to me if I did? I would be nothing more than a fresh corpse from her planned slaughter. I was petrified, no one felt the way I felt, I was sure, no one cared for my pain, but I wanted someone to care. For once, I wanted to feel loved and not feel the sharp daggers of blind hatred. I’m becoming so pathetic, maybe, just maybe, I could still get attention. I could set myself up for pity; if they pitied me they would comfort me. It doesn’t have to be good; I just need comfort, after all comfort is love, right?
But even so, I was a coward; I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone, what would she do to me if I did? I would be nothing more than a fresh corpse from her planned slaughter. I was petrified, no one felt the way I felt, I was sure, no one cared for my pain, but I wanted someone to care. For once, I wanted to feel loved and not feel the sharp daggers of blind hatred. I’m becoming so pathetic, maybe, just maybe, I could still get attention. I could set myself up for pity; if they pitied me they would comfort me. It doesn’t have to be good; I just need comfort, after all comfort is love, right?
But I need something that would make them look at me. Something intense, it can’t be a lie, I need evidence. I pulled out a paper cutting knife that I had just recently bought, such sharp blades, and I could see my reflection so clearly. I laid the cutting knife on my upper wrist; this could get enough pity, right? They could finally see how burdened I was.
But I need something that would make them look at me. Something intense, it can’t be a lie, I need evidence. I pulled out a paper cutting knife that I had just recently bought, such sharp blades, and I could see my reflection so clearly. I laid the cutting knife on my upper wrist; this could get enough pity, right? They could finally see how burdened I was.
I had only planned to make small and shallow cuts just for show, but in that moment all the memories rushed back, I didn’t know how much I was really hurt until I put a blade to my wrist. I cut deeper than intended; oddly, it was relieving. I did it more; my mental pain was brushed off so easily like dust on a table, with just a graze of a blade.
I had only planned to make small and shallow cuts just for show, but in that moment all the memories rushed back, I didn’t know how much I was really hurt until I put a blade to my wrist. I cut deeper than intended; oddly, it was relieving. I did it more; my mental pain was brushed off so easily like dust on a table, with just a graze of a blade.
I started doing it more often, it wasn’t for show anymore, and it was for me, my own personal guilty pleasure. I was fine; after all, I was now getting the attention I wanted. But then the school found out, they treated me as if I was distorted and mentally unstable-- even the teachers thought I was insane. They called my father, I thought of all people, my father would pity and comfort me, right? He would understand and help me get rid of all my burdens. A father was supposed to be that large maple tree you can depend on when you need shade.
I started doing it more often, it wasn’t for show anymore, and it was for me, my own personal guilty pleasure. I was fine; after all, I was now getting the attention I wanted. But then the school found out, they treated me as if I was distorted and mentally unstable-- even the teachers thought I was insane. They called my father, I thought of all people, my father would pity and comfort me, right? He would understand and help me get rid of all my burdens. A father was supposed to be that large maple tree you can depend on when you need shade.
That wasn’t the case. My father picked me up from school. He was very religious Catholic man. I told him what had happened without leaving out a single detail. This was the first time I had been honest with him; I haven't trusted anyone after her. His expression was blank, but then he uttered a single sentence:
That wasn’t the case. My father picked me up from school. He was very religious Catholic man. I told him what had happened without leaving out a single detail. This was the first time I had been honest with him; I haven't trusted anyone after her. His expression was blank, but then he uttered a single sentence:
“You are a sinner, how dare you disobey God and do this morbid act. Do you want to go to hell?”
“You are a sinner, how dare you disobey God and do this morbid act. Do you want to go to hell?”
I didn’t understand why I was scolded for being depressed, for not having friends, for not loving the life I lived, and for never being able to become his ideal Catholic daughter. I didn’t understand anything at all; I didn’t understand why the world was so cruel to me. The once high standing maple tree with full leaves and blossoming flowers that flourished through the wind, crumbled and wilted in front of me in seconds. In that moment, I knew that I could no longer depend on my father-- in this disgusting excuse of a life, I had only myself to rely on. Never again will I ask for someone's help again, I will get through it on my own. I refused to let someone who is as pitiful and pathetic as I was into my life. After all , who can you really trust in this wretched world?
I didn’t understand why I was scolded for being depressed, for not having friends, for not loving the life I lived, and for never being able to become his ideal Catholic daughter. I didn’t understand anything at all; I didn’t understand why the world was so cruel to me. The once high standing maple tree with full leaves and blossoming flowers that flourished through the wind, crumbled and wilted in front of me in seconds. In that moment, I knew that I could no longer depend on my father-- in this disgusting excuse of a life, I had only myself to rely on. Never again will I ask for someone's help again, I will get through it on my own. I refused to let someone who is as pitiful and pathetic as I was into my life. After all , who can you really trust in this wretched world?
***
New Beginnings
New Beginnings
By Felipe Duran
By Felipe Duran
When I first came to the United States, I was scared about going to school. But I knew I had to go. I remember that on that day, the teacher came out and started talking to my grandmother. I was trying to see the people who are in the classroom. She told me to go inside. There were some kids who spoke Spanish. She told me to sit with them, and when someone talked to me, I always asked my classmates Pablo and Jose to tell me what they were saying. The class that was my favorite was ENL, because I was speak to everyone and they could understand me. I remember that Bruno and Antony came to the school in the sixth grade, and at gym we had a race. The first race we had, I just walked the whole way, because something had happened to my leg and I couldn't really move it at the time. But the next year, I got fourth place!
When I first came to the United States, I was scared about going to school. But I knew I had to go. I remember that on that day, the teacher came out and started talking to my grandmother. I was trying to see the people who are in the classroom. She told me to go inside. There were some kids who spoke Spanish. She told me to sit with them, and when someone talked to me, I always asked my classmates Pablo and Jose to tell me what they were saying. The class that was my favorite was ENL, because I was speak to everyone and they could understand me. I remember that Bruno and Antony came to the school in the sixth grade, and at gym we had a race. The first race we had, I just walked the whole way, because something had happened to my leg and I couldn't really move it at the time. But the next year, I got fourth place!
***