I don't know why, but one day i decided i would write a book. I have gotten 3 chapters done so here they are, hope you like it.
Chapter One: Me
I can feel the bobby pins digging into my scalp. My mother drives slowly with the classical music playing softly in the background. My leotard is to tight and I feel very uncomfortable in it. Ever since I was 4 years old my mother has made me take ballet lessons. My teacher thinks I have a full potential and that I should keep taking lessons forever. I hope I don’t, everyone looks at me funny when they see me leave school with tights and a leotard on. We get out of school at 3:50 and I must get to ballet on time at 4:00. Mother doesn’t understand that I am 14 now and I don’t like to be seen as the pretty ballerina anymore.
I arrive at ballet on time, like always and start doing the exercises at the bar. I know the routines by heart, so I let my mind wander. It happens to wonder on to the topic of Johnny Meyer. He is the bad boy that everyone likes, including me. He is so gorgeous with his blue eyes and golden hair. His smile reminds me of my mother’s only necklace that has just one pearl at the end of the lace. My father had given it to her just before he died at war. Ever since this tragedy my mother has kept to her self quite a bit. She never goes out on a date even though my father died almost a year and a half ago. I miss him and I wouldn’t mind if she went on a date every once in a while.
Then that brings my mind to the topic of my mother. How she always has a cough or a headache. She has had these coughs and headaches since my father died. She has been very depressed lately and doesn’t ever seem happy about anything. Not even a good grade or moving up a level in ballet. She took lessons when she was younger, and got to level 8. Then, her parents ran out of money and made her quit. She never wanted that to happen to me so she takes on a part time job as a bagger at Mrs. Hagger’s Grocery store and a part time job at a daycare. I never can figure out how she goes to 3 hours at the daycare and then 3 hours at the grocery store all before she picks me up from school. But she does it, all by herself
Chapter Two: My Father
I was only 11 years old when my father went to fight at war. It seems like America is always at war with someone. My father went to fight for his country and I admire him for that. July 16, 2007 we got a call. My father had been killed by an Iraqi soldier. My mother and I were devastated. Our hero no longer was with us.
I can remember when I was 4 years old and I got stuck in a canal by our home. My mother was not home but my father was. Although he was in the shower at the time I fell in, he could sense something was wrong. He ran out to our small backyard and looked for me. Then he heard me screaming. He ran to the canal and pulled me out just as I was about to let go of the ledge, that was keeping me alive. My daddy is my hero, and now he is gone.
He fought for his country, and died for his country. My daddy loved America, every time it was a national holiday he would put a flag up in our front yard. Then he would gather my momma and me around it and we would say the pledge. We did that as a family every national holiday, every year. Once he was gone, momma and I continued his routines. To show our love for the nation we live in, just like daddy did.
Chapter Three: Life
Whenever I would whine my father would tell me “Life ain’t always fair bud.” Bud was my father’s nickname for me. Everything he said to me usually ended with bud. My father always used to tell me everything how it was.
One time when I was practicing my singing voice he came in to my room. I asked him if it sounded good and he said flat out no. I ran to my mom so fast, while balling my eyes out. When she asked me what on earth was wrong I said, “Daddy is a big old jerk.” My mom just laughed, while I tried to figure out what the heck she was laughing about. She was sitting there laughing, and my head was about to pop off my neck I was so mad.
But my father was right, life isn’t always fair. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to, just to make the ones we love happy. I have learned that from my ballet lessons. I don’t want to take them anymore but I can’t tell my mother I don’t want to anymore. It would break her heart. These days I am glad my big old jerk of a dad taught me that life isn’t always fair. He probably saved me a lot of guilt.
Whenever I am about to yell and scream that I don’t want to go to ballet anymore, I hear his voice. It whispers softly in my ear, “Life ain’t always fair Bud.” That’s when I remember that I have to do some things in life, just to make the ones I love happy.
