Open-ended prompt

      It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh field. My family and I were waiting at the terminal for our flight to arrive, so we could board. We were going to go visit my brother in California at his rehab center. My brother Matt has been a heroin addict for 13 years and my sister and I’s present for Christmas this year was being able to visit him after several years of not being able to see him. Seeing my brother and the smile on his face was heartwarming. It was obvious he had gotten much better over the years. We were going to take him to a nice lunch on the beach front as a surprise, but soon realized he couldn’t be trusted. Matt told my family he didn’t feel comfortable leaving the rehab center. My little sister was so happy to see him she stayed behind with him while my mom, dad, and I went out to lunch. There was no doubt in our minds anything bad was going to happen. We went to a restaurant on the boardwalk and watched the waves. I got a hamburger and it was delicious! It was getting late so we decided to head back to the rehab center and get ready for bed at the visiting hotel next door. As we approached my brother’s room we heard a lot of crying and commotion going on. My dad knocked down the door to find my brother crying in the corner and my sister lying on the floor not moving with syringes surrounding her. We called an ambulance and went to the hospital to find that it was too late and my sister had passed because of an overdose from heroin. My brother had injected heroin into my 9 year old sister’s arm against her will. Witnesses had said they heard screaming and yelling coming from the room. “Don’t do this to me stop, stop, stop.” Apparently my brother had connections to get him heroin even while he was in rehab. Many emotions streamed through me. I didn’t understand how someone of the same blood can turn so evil. I wiped my tears and walked off the testifying stand. Replaying the story back in my head only to tell a whole group of people in court made me more upset. The judge pronounced my brother with the death penalty for first degree murder. The last time I saw him was July 27, 2014.

The Plot Sickens Reflection

      After reading the story by Fanny Howe I would be considered one of the many students that would write about a violent crime. "All the others concluded with extraordinary violence." The author stated that many of the students wrote bout violent crimes against the protagonist or other characters rather then about heroes or happy endings. Also, that the young writers just jump into the plot of the story without developing it. She says the reason for violent writings are because of the economy. "The Economy permeates these stories as an absence of courage, mercy, or even interest." In my opinion it is easier to write about the violent acts because you can have range of stories that are sickening and wouldn't hear them often, so you can be original. However, you can also have a range of stories including happy endings and heroes, but I feel as though those can become to cliché and unoriginal. Everyone has heard of the classics "he saved me" in some sort of way. 





                     

 

Self Deprecation: Judgement  

    What is she wearing? Does she think that’s cute? What is wrong with her hair?  These are just some of the questions I ask myself as I look at some people. I’ve always been  one to judge rather quickly. I really try to keep my thoughts to myself, but it’s almost impossible. Stacey a.k.a my mother always makes it apparent to me of what I’m doing. She always adds in these unnecessary side comments like “stop staring. Can you be nice for once?” I mean I’m not trying to be rude, but seriously come on some people’s appearance just baffles me.
      I judge people from head to toe. If I see someone new for the first time there is no doubt in my mind I have found something to judge about them. I have learned to cope with my friends, but people I don't know just some how get on every single one of my nerves with their appearance. I try my hardest to keep my judgmental thoughts to myself, but I really can't no matter how hard I try. This story I'm about to share with you just goes to show the horrific attacks on the fashion world.

     There was a time I saw a woman and her image just stuck in my head even to this day, and I don’t think I will ever forget it. It was terrifying. It was a normal summer day at the mall shopping until my whole day was turned when I saw this woman. I had to take a moment and ask myself if what I was looking at was real. I didn’t know the answer to that. I was frazzled and was questioning society. This woman was around the age of 65 and a complete pickle, just socially awkward. I felt uncomfortable standing in the same room as her especially with what she was wearing. This pickle of a woman was wearing blue bermuda shorts, a yellow tank top, knee high socks with marijuana leaves on them, sandals, and a scarf wrapped around her head with her hair tied in a ponytail. I know what you must be thinking, but don’t fret my friends it only gets worse. Clearly this woman doesn’t watch fashion police. I was hardcore judging her and felt embarrassed for her. I even considered signing her up for the TV show on TLC called What Not to Wear.  

     Not only did her appearance confuse me, but it also made me very angry. How and why? Is all I kept asking myself.  How does one go out in public dressed liked that? Why does a 65 year old have marijuana leaves on her socks? I calmly walked out of that store stunned of what I just saw. I was truly angry as well. In result I took some deep breathes and walked away to another store, but then I got intrigued and walked back into the store after simmering down. I wanted to know what this woman was going to buy, so I went into stalker mode like they do in the movies and followed her around for the rest of the day. Some of the clothes she was picking out and trying on were just heinous. Floral pants with a zigzag patterned shirt? This just goes to show she really needs to go on What Not to Wear. For the rest of the day I just watched this poor women pick out the ugliest of clothing and felt terrible I couldn’t help her. Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas because it just kept making me angrier.

     Consequently, if you couldn’t tell I judge A LOT. It’s worse when they’re my friends. Some people just need to understand some fashion items are not meant to be put together. There are so many magazines, books, websites, etc. for fashion. I feel as though everyone should just get free magazine subscriptions so I don’t have to encounter one of these horrific experiences again.  Just writing this essay made me angry. I just can’t stress enough that DO NOT go out in public wearing items that you would wear gardening or just around the house. They’re meant to be left at home for a reason.