Darryl's Background Story! :D

Karen was quite surprised when she debarked the Greyhound in Las Vegas, New Mexico: where was the glitz, the glamour, the casinos?

All she espied were old store fronts and signs about "The Santa Fe Trail."

"Hmmm, 'dat mus' be a new casino game, 'dis Santa Fe Trail. I and I will has to try it."

Famished she ordered at a KFC and decided to eat ouside; while munching away a man sat next to her, asking "Is this seat taken?"

They soon chatted amiably; Karen had to ask the stranger the one question that had troubled her since her arrival: "Where be all de casinos at? Ain't 'dis Las Vegas?"

The stranger quickly caught on and decided to fuck with the clueless visitor.

"They all moved out last night" he said, "lock, stock and Faro table."

Karen was crestfallen.

"Oh no! And here I and I came all de way from Miami..."

Quick on the follow up, the gent said "Well you're in luck: they all just moved to Miami, that's where they are now."

This had the ring of truth to the autistic slot maven, so she decided to hitch hike back to Florida.

As luck would have it who stopped to pick her up but Rob Singer, driving his Newell...but let's leave that story for another day.

"Hey you, yeah you, the pickaninny...which way to Miami?"

"I and I was hopin' you'd know."

Rob pulled out his ragged Rand McNally road atlas and after a few minutes said "Looks like I'm headed in the right direction."

"Can you gives me a ride to Miami?"

"I don't normally bother to talk to let alone help you people but today is your lucky day. The toilet is all stopped up (too much cheese) and I need something or someone soft to shit on. You'll do."

This thought percolated briefly in the Nubian's noggin: yes, definite possibilities there, but first she should try something else.

"Would you likes some crotch shots 'stead o' shittin' on me? I and I gots lots of crotch shots but only one set o' clean clothes and it be a long ways to Miami."

"No, that's my offer, take it or leave it...and hurry up, I got to get to Miami post haste while the double bubble bug is still a valid AP."

Karen stopped in her tracks.

"Is you an AP too? I and I is a AP."

"You look more like an ape than an AP, but we can talk about it in the Newell, but first...nature calls...and when I'n ready to go you got to open your mouth wide..."

Karen soon learned the true meaning of the phrase "turn about is fair play."

Soon, it was 7:21. I logged off the computer and rushed to class. It was 7:24 when I sat down at my seat. My first class was Homeroom. Actually, it's not really a "class" as it is a "check in." We get our names called, answer, and do left over homework for about 15 minutes. Then we go to our "first" block of the day. We have block schedule, which means we only have three classes a day, for two hours each. We also have lunch for 45 minutes.

We have block 1, 3, and 5 today, and tomorrow we will have Block 2, 4, 6. I went to block 1, and we had to do Silent Reading for 30 minutes. Silent Reading is mandatory in all six blocks (even though many teachers sometimes skip it) My first block was an English class. We had to proofread another class’s Creative Essays. I almost fainted when I saw how bad my “student’s” essay was. Here is a little “piece” of the student’s essay. You can see why I almost fainted.

April 10, 2005. I went to the bech last weekend wit my hole phamily. We went swimming wit other people. I ain’t never had so much phun for in a long time. We swam for one our and then we eight lunch. It was chicken, and it was rice, and it was soda, and it was chips, and it was pretzels, and it was potato salad. We listened to the raydio and had heard sum good sungs. After we had laid down to dygest the food for a half an our, we went back to swimming. We swam for too more ours. Then we left.

There was more to this student’s essay, but I think I’ve put you in enough torture. I quickly proofread and edited the essay. I turned it in, and Mrs. Hayes looked at me with amazement. “I am surprised you went through this without going off the wall,” she said.

“I did feel like fainting when I saw this essay,” I confessed to her.

“I don’t blame you,” she said and gave me a sympathetic smile. I

I went back to my seat and waited for the other people to finish their assignments, and in the meanwhile, I began to finish my Silent Reading book. I had been reading Silent Night by R.L. Stine. It’s about a rich girl named Reva Dalby, the rich heiress of a department store. Her father, Robert Dalby owned Dalby’s Department Store. On the other hand, Mr. Dalby let his poor niece, Pam, live with her and his daughter. I found it extremely weird that Pam was Reva’s ONLY cousin.

I myself have TONS of cousins, and so does everyone else I know. Anyway, the cover is amazing, interesting, and eye catching. Reva looks like she is trapped in a mirror, her mouth and eyes are open wide in horror and shock, and there is snow outside the mirror.

Hey, how do you pronounce Reva? Is it pronounced REV like, “Revving up a motorcycle and adding an “A” or is it pronounced “Reeva” like how we pronounce Reba McIntyre? I just decided to read it like the motorcycle pronunciation.

Soon, everyone was done with their assignments. Darn it! Just when I was getting to a really good part. Reva was had just put on her lipstick and started to scream. Makeup shouldn’t make you scream.

I closed the book. Everyone else turned in their assignments. Mrs. Hayes put them on a stack on her desk. I knew that since we had proofread another class’s essays, they would be proofreading our essays. We had done essays last week. I wasn’t nervous because I knew I was great in grammar (spelling is part of grammar)

Mrs. Hayes told us our next assignment would be reading aloud from a play called, “A Midsummer’s Night Dream by Williams Shakespeare. I got to play Demetrius. A beautiful woman named Helena was madly in love with me (Demetrius), and I would shun her. Helena was played by a beautiful girl named Alicia.

Alicia is a dark milk-chocolate colored girl (think of a Snickers bar), with beautiful chocolate brown eyes, an oval face, and long brown hair, with a beautiful smile. She’s also tall and slender. Who would “shun” Alicia? She’s a really sweet girl. And what’s wrong with Demetrius? If a beautiful woman was in love with ME, I wouldn’t shun her. Anyway, it was fun playing a guy who would shun a beautiful woman.

After the reading, class was over, and it was time for Block 3. My block 3 is the bane of my day. It’s Math. Do you know what type of Math it is? Algebra. We had to some problems, and my brain just wasn’t working for the problems. I was hitting a wall with the problems. I was so frustrated trying to work on the problems. I HATE feeling stupid. Mr. Smith came up to me and asked if I needed any help.

He must have sensed my frustration. I was embarrassed. “No, I don’t need any help!” I snapped. I had a lot pf pride and he was embarrassing me. I am almost an honor student! I thought in my mind. Everyone was staring at me. I began to blush. Mr. Smith looked at me sympathetically. “I’m here if you need any help,” he said, and went back to his seat.

I worked on more frustrating problems, biting my lower lip. I kept hitting walls. I tried doing the integers assignment, but I was having trouble figuring out if two negatives equaled a positive or if a positive and a negative equaled a negative. I was having trouble figuring out what to do when the problem was a multiplication problem. Did we divide or multiply? What if it’s two different signs, like -8*-7? What’s the answer?

I worked on the problems, really frustrating my brain. I began to get a headache. I knew it was time to swallow my pride. I needed help. I got up and slowly walked to Mr. Smith’s desk, with my notebook, pencil, and textbook in my hands. I stood in front of Mr. Smith’s desk, and looking defeated and reluctant, confessed, “Mr. Smith, I need help.”

“Sure. I’m gonna help you,” he said, looking at me eagerly. “Sit down. There is a chair next to his desk for students to sit when they need help with problems. I sat down and told him the problems I was having. He took out a paper and one of his pens. “Darryl, here is how you solve addition problems. He wrote down 8+7. “That’s 15,” he said. (Duh). -8+7=-2, -8+-7=-15. The larger number for addition is the number that will determine the sign of the answer. Subtract when the signs are different.

For subtraction, add the opposite of the problem. For example, 25-5=20. Adding the opposite is 25+ (-5) =20. -8-(-2) would be -8+2. To solve, you would answer the problem -6. The larger number still determines the outcome of the sign. -12+ (-16) =-28. Add when the signs are the same, negative=negative, and pos=pos. Subtract when the signs are different.

For multiplication, 2(-8) =-16, because of the different signs. In this case ALWAYS put a negative sign in front of your answer, no matter what number has the negative sign. For example: (-3) (25) =-75. -5(-6) =30. Same signs =positive.

For division, (-50) divided by (-2) =25. Same signs=positive. -20 divided by 5=-4. Different signs=negative signs.

He asked me if I understood everything he was talking about. I had! I told him so, and he said, “I am going to give you two problems from each category and I want to see if you answer them correctly. “Okay,” I agreed.

He took out another paper and wrote down these problems: 1. -8+-6, 2. -8+6, 3. -10 - -5, 4. -10 -5, 5. -6*7, 6. -6*-7, 7. 9 divided by -3, 8. -9 divided by -3.

I followed the guidance he gave me on the paper, and for number one I answered -14. For 2, I answered -2. For 3, I answered -15. For 4, I answered -5. For 6, I answered 42. For 7, I answered -3. For 8, I answered, 3. I turned in the assignment. He quickly checked it and said, “You did good. You answered the questions correctly. I think you’re ready to do these problems on your own, Darryl.”

“Thank you for the compliment, and thanks for your help. I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I added.

“You’re welcome, and I understand why you snapped at me. You’re a smart kid, and for a teacher to ask if you need help is embarrassing. I know about the straight A’s you get in all your other classes.”

I looked at him in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“We teachers have our own little “chats.” It’s kind of a teacher alliance. We discuss students with each other. And we talk about you sometimes. About how bright and dedicated you are.

“Oh,” I said, feeling shy.

After just an hour, Rob had enough of the smell and dumped her across the Texas state in Amarillo. Tasha seeing the state sign felt a sense of joy she hadn’t felt since discovering Cawy Watermelon Soda. “Iz nos my history and iz nos Churches Chicken is from Texas and beez across from da Alamo from the letter days send me banning me for a year.”. Thinking Texas can’t be that big she thought she would walk there and give them a piece of her mind just like she did BBB.

Her first stop was the Circle K on the corner and asked the clerk where the Alamo was. And if there was a good chicken joint close by she could eat at on the way since Rob had a heart and threw her a sawbuck for the road. The minimum wage clerk hating how his life turned out figured he would fuck with this obviously retarted traveler. He sent her to the Big Texan Steakhouse down the street and said go out back and ask for Manuel, he will take care of you. Tasha exclaimed “Thanx yous, my luck beez changn already, iz beez givn does Churches people a piece of my mind”.

Making her way down the street she meet up with Manuel in a beat up van in the parking lot. “Hello iz beez Tasha and I was told yous can get me to the Alamo, I gotta getz by banning removed”. Manuel was used to dealing with poorly educated Mexicans daily but never met someone who appeared to be so stupid. He thought he could pimp her out but she was so ugly he didn’t even think the oil workers stuck in the field away from women for weeks would fuck her. So he figured she might be useful as a coyote. He asked her if she was interested in working for a few meals by picking up some friends for him. “Iz don’t nos how to drive but Iz do anything for some chicken”.

Jesus Fucking Christ he thought, first Trump drying the border up and now they send me this retard. What the fuck did I do to deserve this? This moron isn’t worth the trouble so figured he would try to buy some Karma to change his luck and also gave her a $20 and run far away from this walking black cloud.

Flush with $40 Tasha feeble mind started thinking “I beez havn nuff cash to gamble and change my life” and thinking the nearest casino should be on the walk to the Alamo. Getting back at the devious Chicken folks that banned her was the mission but the thought of playing some penny slots was more important. Like Mammie with cash and an empty glass pipe, the money was burning a hole in her torn, dirty pants.

To be continued

Looks like Gordo and Wiz are here as guests catching up on the latest adventures of their favorite laughingstock.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Tasha

My block 3 is the bane of my day. It’s Math. Do you know what type of Math it is? Algebra.
...
He wrote down 8+7. “That’s 15,” he said. (Duh). -8+7=-2, -8+-7=-15.

---

Tasha, arithmetic with negative numbers isn't algebra. And -8 + 7 is -1, not -2. This is elementary school stuff. No wonder the the other kids at school call him "Duh-rryl" behind his back. Like I suggested before, maybe you should leave out the academic details and focus on stuff you know more about, like snack foods and scratch offs. Every time you write about school subjects Darryl encounters, especially math, you betray your own ignorance.

Tasha started shaking, perspiration flowed down her forehead: it was that old Gamblin' Itch...

"I and I needs to gets to a 'sino fast as I and I can" she muttered aloud while espying a curious sight: a short, older guy, dressed like a gypsy, was crying aloud.

"You poor mans, what is 'de matter, why you crying?"

"Oh woe is me! I am an organ grinder and my monkey has run away! How can I grind my organ without a monkey? If I had that monkey back I'd grind away and make a lot of money, but now I am well and truly fucked."

Never one to pass up an opportunity Tasha smiled and said "Boz says I and I looks like an ape; can I and I do it?"

Desperation trumped discernment: "You can try. What have we to lose?"

Soon Tasha was leashed to the organ, but then the question of what to play arose.

"Does you know any Guns 'n Roses songs?" queried the wannabe simian.

"Do I? Hell, my doppelganger was one of his band mates so yeah, I know and love them all."

Ah, good luck...you never know when it will descend upon you, much like herpes.

Soon they perfected their curious act; initially it went over like a lead balloon, passersby preferring to make sure they didn't step on sidewalk cracks rather than pay attention to the curious duo.

"We gots to do some..."

Tasha had to stop in mid-sentence as a call of nature demanded her immediate attention; she dropped trou, squatted and let loose.

This immediately brought a crowd of looky-loos.

One, a survivor of the Waco Texas siege and a Branch Davidian got on her knees, howling "Oh lord, that looks like the face of David Koresh! He has returned to save us all!"

Without further ado she attempted to scoop up the newly created religious artifact but was stopped by Tasha who said "'Dis will cost you."

Soon Tasha had a Franklin as did the organ grinder and the devotee slinked off with her stinky reincarnation.

"OK, now's ta gamble. Where's the casino?"

A passerby had overheard and said "Hey monkey lady, the closest casino is 163 miles away in Clinton."

Tasha collapsed in despair.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Tasha

Hi. My name is Darryl Johnson and I am a 16 year old at Marshall Johnson prep school. This institution was founded in 1898 when a very entrepreneurial son of an oil owner had a vision of creating a school for young scholars.

---

"Cut!" the director yelled. "We are making a promo video for a school for hoodrats who want to become regular non-hoodrat folks. Why in the hell is you crip walking, Darryl?" the director yelled some more. "Who the hell told you to crip walk while introducing yourself and the school?"

Darryl couldn't explain himself. He just thought crip walking while giving an intro looked cool. He had another idea. "Hey director man, sorry about crip walking. I have another idea. Why don't I write some equations and math and shit on a blackboard while I'm introducing myself. That way I can look real smart and people watching this video think this is a school for smart kids."

The director agreed to try out Darryl's idea and soon they began reshooting another scene in a classroom. Darryl got a piece of chalk and began writing some math facts on the board:

-8 x -7 = -87
-7 x -8 = -78
5 x 5 = 55

The director began laughing hysterically. Darryl did not understand what was so funny. Maybe I should switch from multiplication facts to reducing some fractions, he mused. Darryl then begin writing some more:

16/64 = 1/4 (crossing out the sixes)
163/326 = 1/2 (crossing out the threes and the sixes)
19/95 = 1/5 (crossing out the fives)

The director stopped laughing and adjusted his glasses. "Holy hell, this kid is either dumber than a box of pubes or a genius," he muttered.

Soon, it was 7:21. I logged off the computer and rushed to class. It was 7:24 when I sat down at my seat. My first class was Homeroom. Actually, it's not really a "class" as it is a "check in." We get our names called, answer, and do left over homework for about 15 minutes.

Then we go to our "first" block of the day. We have block schedule, which means we only have three classes a day, for two hours each. We also have lunch for 45 minutes. We have block 1, 3, and 5 today, and tomorrow we will have Block 2, 4, 6. I went to block 1, and we had to do Silent Reading for 30 minutes. Silent Reading is mandatory in all six blocks (even though many teachers sometimes skip it)

My first block was an English class. We had to proofread another class’s Creative Essays. I almost fainted when I saw how bad my “student’s” essay was. Here is a little “piece” of the student’s essay. You can see why I almost fainted.

April 10, 2005. I went to the bech last weekend wit my hole phamily. We went swimming wit other people. I ain’t never had so much phun for in a long time. We swam for one our and then we eight lunch. It was chicken, and it was rice, and it was soda, and it was chips, and it was pretzels, and it was potato salad. We listened to the raydio and had heard sum good sungs. After we had laid down to dygest the food for a half an our, we went back to swimming. We swam for too more ours. Then we left.

There was more to this student’s essay, but I think I’ve put you in enough torture. I quickly proofread and edited the essay. I turned it in, and Mrs. Hayes looked at me with amazement. “I am surprised you went through this without going off the wall,” she said.

“I did feel like fainting when I saw this essay,” I confessed to her.

“I don’t blame you,” she said and gave me a sympathetic smile. I

I went back to my seat and waited for the other people to finish their assignments, and in the meanwhile, I began to finish my Silent Reading book. I had been reading Silent Night by R.L. Stine. It’s about a rich girl named Reva Dalby, the rich heiress of a department store. Her father, Robert Dalby owned Dalby’s Department Store. On the other hand, Mr. Dalby let his poor niece, Pam, live with her and his daughter. I found it extremely weird that Pam was Reva’s ONLY cousin.

I myself have TONS of cousins, and so does everyone else I know. Anyway, the cover is amazing, interesting, and eye catching. Reva looks like she is trapped in a mirror, her mouth and eyes are open wide in horror and shock, and there is snow outside the mirror. Hey, how do you pronounce Reva? Is it pronounced REV like, “Revving up a motorcycle and adding an “A” or is it pronounced “Reeva” like how we pronounce Reba McIntyre? I just decided to read it like the motorcycle pronunciation.

Soon, everyone was done with their assignments. Darn it! Just when I was getting to a really good part. Reva was had just put on her lipstick and started to scream. Makeup shouldn’t make you scream.

I closed the book. Everyone else turned in their assignments. Mrs. Hayes put them on a stack on her desk. I knew that since we had proofread another class’s essays, they would be proofreading our essays. We had done essays last week. I wasn’t nervous because I knew I was great in grammar (spelling is part of grammar)

Mrs. Hayes told us our next assignment would be reading aloud from a play called, “A Midsummer’s Night Dream by Williams Shakespeare. I got to play Demetrius. A beautiful woman named Helena was madly in love with me (Demetrius), and I would shun her. Helena was played by a beautiful girl named Alicia.

Alicia is a dark milk-chocolate colored girl (think of a Snickers bar), with beautiful chocolate brown eyes, an oval face, and long brown hair, with a beautiful smile. She’s also tall and slender. Who would “shun” Alicia? She’s a really sweet girl. And what’s wrong with Demetrius? If a beautiful woman was in love with ME, I wouldn’t shun her. Anyway, it was fun playing a guy who would shun a beautiful woman.

After the reading, class was over, and it was time for Block 3. My block 3 is the bane of my day. It’s Math. Do you know what type of Math it is? Algebra. We had to some problems, and my brain just wasn’t working for the problems. I was hitting a wall with the problems. I was so frustrated trying to work on the problems. I HATE feeling stupid. Mr. Smith came up to me and asked if I needed any help.

He must have sensed my frustration. I was embarrassed. “No, I don’t need any help!” I snapped. I had a lot pf pride and he was embarrassing me. I am almost an honor student! I thought in my mind. Everyone was staring at me. I began to blush. Mr. Smith looked at me sympathetically. “I’m here if you need any help,” he said, and went back to his seat.

I worked on more frustrating problems, biting my lower lip. I kept hitting walls. I tried doing the integers assignment, but I was having trouble figuring out if two negatives equaled a positive or if a positive and a negative equaled a negative. I was having trouble figuring out what to do when the problem was a multiplication problem. Did we divide or multiply? What if it’s two different signs, like -8*-7? What’s the answer?

I worked on the problems, really frustrating my brain. I began to get a headache. I knew it was time to swallow my pride. I needed help. I got up and slowly walked to Mr. Smith’s desk, with my notebook, pencil, and textbook in my hands. I stood in front of Mr. Smith’s desk, and looking defeated and reluctant, confessed, “Mr. Smith, I need help.”

“Sure. I’m gonna help you,” he said, looking at me eagerly. “Sit down. There is a chair next to his desk for students to sit when they need help with problems. I sat down and told him the problems I was having. He took out a paper and one of his pens. “Darryl, here is how you solve addition problems. He wrote down 8+7. “That’s 15,” he said. (Duh). -8+7=-2, -8+-7=-15. The larger number for addition is the number that will determine the sign of the answer. Subtract when the signs are different.

For subtraction, add the opposite of the problem. For example, 25-5=20. Adding the opposite is 25+ (-5) =20. -8-(-2) would be -8+2. To solve, you would answer the problem -6. The larger number still determines the outcome of the sign. -12+ (-16) =-28. Add when the signs are the same, negative=negative, and pos=pos. Subtract when the signs are different.

For multiplication, 2(-8) =-16, because of the different signs. In this case ALWAYS put a negative sign in front of your answer, no matter what number has the negative sign. For example: (-3) (25) =-75. -5(-6) =30. Same signs =positive.

For division, (-50) divided by (-2) =25. Same signs=positive. -20 divided by 5=-4. Different signs=negative signs.

He asked me if I understood everything he was talking about. I had! I told him so, and he said, “I am going to give you two problems from each category and I want to see if you answer them correctly. “Okay,” I agreed.

He took out another paper and wrote down these problems: 1. -8+-6, 2. -8+6, 3. -10 - -5, 4. -10 -5, 5. -6*7, 6. -6*-7, 7. 9 divided by -3, 8. -9 divided by -3.

I followed the guidance he gave me on the paper, and for number one I answered -14. For 2, I answered -2. For 3, I answered -15. For 4, I answered -5. For 6, I answered 42. For 7, I answered -3. For 8, I answered, 3. I turned in the assignment. He quickly checked it and said, “You did good. You answered the questions correctly. I think you’re ready to do these problems on your own, Darryl.”

“Thank you for the compliment, and thanks for your help. I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I added.

“You’re welcome, and I understand why you snapped at me. You’re a smart kid, and for a teacher to ask if you need help is embarrassing. I know about the straight A’s you get in all your other classes.”

I looked at him in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“We teachers have our own little “chats.” It’s kind of a teacher alliance. We discuss students with each other. And we talk about you sometimes. About how bright and dedicated you are.

“Oh,” I said, feeling shy.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by pinchingyourballs

The director agreed to try out Darryl's idea and soon they began reshooting another scene in a classroom. Darryl got a piece of chalk and began writing some math facts on the board:

-8 x -7 = -87
-7 x -8 = -78
5 x 5 = 55

The director began laughing hysterically. Darryl did not understand what was so funny. Maybe I should switch from multiplication facts to reducing some fractions, he mused. Darryl then begin writing some more:

16/64 = 1/4 (crossing out the sixes)
163/326 = 1/2 (crossing out the threes and the sixes)
19/95 = 1/5 (crossing out the fives)

The director stopped laughing and adjusted his glasses. "Holy hell, this kid is either dumber than a box of pubes or a genius," he muttered.

---

(8 + 7 + 87 + 7 + 8 + 78 + 5 + 5 + 55 + 16 + 64 + 1 + 4 + 163 + 326 + 1 + 2 + 19 + 95 + 1 + 5) = (1 + 961 - 7 + 2) ---> 1961_July 2 .

I went back to my desk. I opened up my math book and textbook and worked on the problems. I wasn’t hitting walls anymore, because I had help now. I just followed the “Guidance” paper, and I knew I did fine. I wasn’t frustrated anymore, and my headache was long gone. I felt great!

We had lunch break in the middle of the second block (this one), and I went to the cafeteria and stood in the line. Hooray! They were serving Pizza Hut! That’s my favorite pizza company! I was served a HUGE slice!


My goodness, that pizza almost covered the whole tray! I loved it! For sides, I got corn and chocolate pudding. For a drink, I had a red milk carton (whole milk). I went to the third row of tables. Actually, each “row” has smaller tables which are all separated. I saw Sean and Julian. (Mario didn’t share our lunch period). I sat next to them.

“Don’t you guys love pizza day? I asked them. “Don’t you guys love these big slices?”

“These “slices” are so big they actually look like the lunch lady gave us the whole box instead of just one slice each,” Sean said wryly. He had a wry smile on his face.

“Yeah, I love it,” I answered Sean. “How about you?” I asked Julian.

Julian answered, “I love fatty, greasy foods. So I am loving these humongous pizzas.” He smiled.

A girl named Andie came up to us and said, “This pizza is disgusting. How can you guys actually enjoy all this fat and grease the pizza has in it?”

“Because we’re guys,” I answered. “You girls pick at salads and frown at tasty foods like hamburgers and fried chicken. We guys don’t know the meaning of the word “diet”. You girls worship that word.

“You are a sexist person!” Andie said angrily.

“How is that being sexist?” I asked.

“It just is,” Andie said frowning.

“Then why’d you pick the pizza?”

“I didn’t want to hurt the lunch lady’s feelings. I’m throwing this pizza away,” Andie said decisively.

“You’re going to throw away good food?” I asked her, upset.

“Yeah. I don’t want to gain any more weight,” she said, patting her slim stomach. She could actually use more pounds, I thought.

Out loud I said, “Why don’t you blot out all the excess grease with a napkin and then eat the pizza? You would still save calories and fat,” I suggested.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” she said, brightening up a little. “I’ll do that.” She went to the next row. I carefully watched her. She blotted the grease from the pizza and ate it (the pizza). I hate seeing people throw away good food.

I always eat MY food, down to the last crumb. I ate my own humongous pizza. I love pizza. That’s one my favorite foods. I ate the corn, then ate the chocolate pudding, and then drank my milk. I chatted with Sean and Julian a little more, and then lunch was over.

I walked back to Math class, and finished the math problems. We turned in the assignments, and Mr. Smith asked ME to do a random integers problem on the board. I had already shown him I could do the work, but I guess he wanted to see I f I could do a problem correctly in front of the class. I agreed. I went up to the board.

“Darryl, I want you to do a multiplication problem. Do 8 negative times positive 4.

“I wrote down, “-8*4. “Can I use the guidance paper?” I asked.

“I would really like it if you didn’t,” he said gently. I knew what that meant. No. I had to do this all on my own. I had to remember how I had answered the other questions like this without the guidance paper. I tried to remember how to do the problem.

“Take your time,” Mr. Smith said gently. I did. In one minute, I remembered. The answer will always be negative if the signs are different, but still multiply!

I answered, “-32.”

Mr. Smith said, “Good job, Darryl!” I beamed. I know integers! I know integers! I inwardly gloated.

After class, Mr. Smith stopped me on my way out. “Darryl, maybe you need Remedial Math. Maybe you should be taught in a smaller class,” he suggested gently. “I see you struggling in Math. Maybe Remedial Math would be the best thing for you.”

“I. I…... I started. He was suggesting that I be put in a Learning Disability class! I was one of the brightest students in his class! (Not in Math, though). I was beginning to feel that pride well up in me again, and a little voice told me to tell the pride to shut up and accept help in Math.

“Yes, I WOULD,” I started slowly.

“Why do you say “would” like that?” He asked me perplexed.

“Because I might be leaving the school soon,” I answered.

“Oh? What happened?’

“I was not about to tell Mr. Smith about my crime spree and the ultimatum my mom gave me. I was about to omit that part.

“I might be going to prep school. Saying “boarding school” would sound like a punishment. “Prep school” sounded much nicer.

“Oh? Which one?”

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“You don’t know which prep school you might go to?” he repeated, furrowing his brows.

I know, it did sound ridiculous. “My mom just made me apply for a scholarship to ANY prep school. Do you know if prep schools teach remedial Math?" I asked him.

“They should," Mr. Smith answered. “When I was growing up, they did. In the meanwhile, why don’t you transfer to a Math remedial class? Just have him sign the transfer slip and bring it to the front office? I’ll give you a note to give to your Block 5 teacher to excuse your lateness so that you don’t have an unexcused tardiness.”

He wrote me an excuse note and got out a transfer slip. He handed me both. I put the excuse note in my left pocket and the transfer slip in my right pocket and begun to walk to Block 5.

Wally, a security guard saw me. “Hey, young man, do you know you’re tardy? Do you have a pass in order to avoid detention?” I pulled out Mr. Smith’s note. Wally looked at it, and told me that was fine. I put the note back in my pocket and rushed to class. I didn’t want any more security guards stopping me.

Our school has mandatory lockout. After the final bell for each class is rung, the teachers MUST lock their classroom doors. It’s so students can’t "sneak in” to class late. They have to knock on the doors in order to be let in.

I knocked on Mrs. Cox’s Science door. She opened the door. “My,my, my. Who do we have here? It’s Darryl, come to join us on his own sweet time. I hope Darryl has an acceptable excuse for being late.”

“I do,” I said. I handed her the Mr. Smith’s next. She accepted it.

“This will do,” she said.

I sat down at my desk. My “Science” class was actually Biology. In Biology, we had to read about the life of plants. We read about chlorophyll and photosynthesis. Then we had to grow our own plants. Mrs. Cox gave us seeds, and we each walked over to empty plant cups that were filled with soil, and she told us to put the seeds in the soil and water them. I did. All of us did.

Mrs. Cox told us to sing to our plants. We all looked at her like she was crazy. Sing to the plants?

“Plants love songs. Sing to them,” she insisted. “They will grow.”

I sang, “It’s Peanut Butter and Jelly time! Peanut Butter and Jelly time! Where he at, I don’t know! Where he at, I don‘t know! It’s Peanut Butter and Jelly time!” Then I sang, “To the window to the wall, to the sweat run down my balls, to all these bitches crawl, to all skeet skeet mother****er!”

“Darryl! That’s not what I meant by “singing” to the plants. And what you are “singing” is Hip-Hop! And please, no more profanity,” Mrs. Cox admonished.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Cox,” I apologized. I won’t do it again,” I promised.

“Please choose another song, something a lot more soothing,” she said softer.

I sang, “Treated me kind, sweet destiny.” (That’s the first lyric of Vision of Love by Mariah Carey.) Then I skipped a whole lot of the song and sang, “I had a vision of love, and it was all that you’ve given to me.” Then I jumped all over the song. I

sang, “Straight through the nights, so faithfully, knowing that the one that I needed would find me eventually. I had a vision of love, and it was all that you turned out to be.” Then I sang more of Vision of Love, and Mrs. Cox was satisfied.

“That’s much better, Darryl,” she said with a small smile. “Everybody else, sing to your plants." The majority of the class sang either pop songs, like Christina Aguilera songs and NSYNC songs, or R&B like Usher and Keith Sweat songs, but someone sang a folk type of song, “What’s Going On” by 4 Non Blondes!

After class was over, I went to my car and drove home. My mom was home. She had been off for two days. Yesterday had been her first day off.

“Hi, Darryl,” she said, smiling at me. "How was your day?”

“It was fine,” I answered. “But I am about to transfer into a Math remedial class.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! She said. “You’ll get the help you need!” She excitedly wrapped her arms around me. I tried to seem as happy as she was, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to go to remedial Math too much. It’s still and LD class.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“Math Remedial falls under the category of ‘Special education.’ You know, Learning Disability?” I answered her.

“But you will be getting help." She pointed out again.

“Yeah, but I won’t learn much. I might be going to boarding school soon, remember?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

I gave her the transfer slip. I had until Thursday to get it signed. I would get it signed the next day, on Wednesday.

She looked at it for a few seconds, and then gave it back to me. “When do the results of the test come back?” She asked me.

“They should come back one week after I took them, so I would say next Monday,” I replied.

“Good,” she said.

I went to my room to do my homework. I had Homework from my English Class. I didn’t have any Math homework since today was my last day in Mr. Smith’s class.

Homework was proofreading a letter from a handout Mrs. Hayes had given us. This is the handout.

April 15, 2005. We went too a fre muzik consert in a park. Wee where so exited to cee acks like Kristina Agulera, Richard Marks, Sierra, and Rik Springfield. We ate potato calad, korn on the kob, and pissa. Then we played frisbe after the consert. We went home it was like 11:00, or 12:00, or 1:00. It was a grate nite.

I fixed the mistakes, and then I put my homework in my backpack. I washed and dried my mother’s and my laundry, folded them, and put them away. Then I cleaned my room. I swept and dusted, fixed up my dresser, and made my bed.

I would have gone on the computer and surfed the net, but both computers were at the computer repair shop. I usually have a computer in my room and there is another computer in our family room. I watched my “White Chicks” DVD.


I love that movie! Shawn and Marlon Wayans go undercover as rich and spoiled heiresses Brit and Tiff. It’s really funny! You’ve gotta see it.


After the movie, I switched from DVD player to “DirecTV” and changed the channel to The Simpsons. I turned on my DVR and pressed record so I could go take a shower. After showering, I finished watching the Simpsons. I pressed “Stop” and turned off the DVR.

I watched some more TV, and then listened to some songs on the radio, and ate dinner. After dinner, I watched some more TV, and then went to bed. You see how boring my life is when I’m not doing crime? I’m boring myself as I write this.

When I woke up, it was the same routine as I had done yesterday to get ready for school. At school, I arrived at 7:23, so I went straight to Homeroom. After Homeroom, I went to Block 2. In Block 2, during Silent Reading, I continued reading Silent Night. I found out why Reva had screamed.

She had screamed because someone had put a needle in her lipstick! There was blood running from her lips, and she quickly wiped her lips. When she told Mitch, one of her dad’s young employees what had happened, Mitch told her, “That’s because no one likes you, Reva.” I thought that was rude of Mitch!

I read some more, and then Silent Reading was over. The Block I was in was reading. I LOVE this subject. We read a story about a boy who finds a genie lamp. It was called, “The Best Day of Your Life!” In it, the boy finds the genie, and the genie says he will grant him a wish.

The boy wishes for the next day to be the best day if his life. The next day, he has a great day. He gets an A in class, gets smug, the girl he likes talks to him and he acts like a big peacock, strutting around her, looking cool, and he does great in basketball. When he goes home at night, the genie still says that tomorrow will be the best day of his life.

The boy is ecstatic! Even better than this day? He goes to school the next day, and finds out he is doing the same day over again. He realizes that his classmates look resentful of him, something he hadn’t realized before, and the girl he was strutting around looks upset at how he is acting.

He wants to stop this day, but he can’t. He begins to feel trapped. He goes home again, and that night, the genie STILL says, ‘Tomorrow will be the best day of your life!” The next day, the same day happens again.

He is stuck in the same day and wants it to stop. He is really feeling trapped now. He relieves the day the next day, and just goes through the motions. When he goes home again, he wants to beg the genie to undo the wish, but he can’t say that, since he is repeating the same day again. The story ends with, “Tomorrow will be the best day of your life!”

I really felt sorry for the kid. Imagine being stuck in the same day forever? Well, at least he’ll never die, I thought.

After the reading, we had to answer questions from a short story about a boy who travels into outer space. We finished that in about 30 minutes, and then we watched a short film about the fundamentals of reading. After the film, our teacher, Mr. Simms, told us we had to do a summary on the film for homework, and then class was over. After that, it was Block 4, Government. We talked about George W. Bush.

We had a lot of heated discussion about him. I said, “I think George Bush is running America into the ground. Think about it. The tragedy of September 11, 2001 happened while he was the president. I think he needs to be impeached. He’s not doing a really good job.” Another student said, “I actually LIKE George W. Bush. He’s bringing America UP not DOWN.

Another student said, “Well, it happened under HIM. And why hasn’t he caught Osama Bin Laden yet? Bush is wasting time and money with Iraq,” the student who defended Bush said, “Well; it is hard to find a sneaky criminal mastermind rat like Osama.”

“How do we even know Osama did crash the airplanes into the World Trade center buildings and The Pentagon? Where is the proof?” Another student asked.

“The proof is on the news and in the newspapers. Osama was seen on live tape talking about what he did with the airplanes,” I answered him. Was this student living under a rock?

“Well, how do we know that that was Osama and not some imposter?” The same student asked.

He was right. How could we tell that Osama really had confessed to the doings of September 11th? Any Iraqi male could imposter Osama.

I told him he had a valid point. He said, “Than you.” This was sort of a “free day” and we just sat around talking about government in general for a long while. Then it was lunch time.

At lunch, I had chicken legs, mashed potatoes, whole milk, and a fruit cup. As I ate, I thought about the U.S. Government. How DID America stack up against other nations? I knew some countries were envious of us, but I also knew some countries spat on us. Hmm. After lunch, we went back to block 4. We began talking about George W. Bush again.

“Didn’t Jeb Bush throw away votes for Al Gore so that George could win?” One student stated/asked.

“That was just a rumor,” our teacher, Mr. Kelley answered.

“Didn’t Cubans vote for George Bush because they thought that George Bush would help overthrow Castro?” Another student asked.

“And how was Bush going to help overthrow another country’s dictator?” I replied. “I am sure that was just a rumor too.”

“I heard a rumor that George Bush wanted to have mandatory year round school for all schools in the country,” another student said. “Thank god that didn’t happen.”

“If that did happen, I am sure Congress would step in. They have more power than the President, don’t you know? “I replied.

“They do?” Another student replied mystified.

Mr. Kelley said, “Darryl’s right. As a whole, Congress can overrule the President.”

“That’s interesting,” another student replied. A few other students murmured in agreement.

“Can they PLEASE tell George Bush to go away?” One student joked.

Mr. Kelley said, “They can impeach the President if he does something really bad.”

“Like letting airplanes crash into the World trade Center and Pentagon?” The same student retorted, being a smart aleck.

“I guess they didn’t think that warranted an impeachment,” Mr. Kelley replied.

We talked more about the President and government, and then class was over. For homework we had to write a letter to ‘George Bush”, telling him what we thought about September 11th. Actually, Mr. Kelley was going to be “George Bush.”

In Block 6, I had Intro to Computers. In that class, we had to do an assignment on Word. We had to write a Creative Story. My story was about a soldier who comes home to see his one true love, his girlfriend of two years, after being in the Navy for the past 3 months. I was kind of graphic without being sleazy or pornographic with their love scenes. (Basically, it was a LOT of making out and hugging, but nothing more). I hit save and Print and turned it in.

Then we had to do some Excel Spreadsheets. After the Excel assignment, we had “free time”. I went to the internet and went on Yahoo.com to watch some music videos. I watched “Fallin” by Alicia Keys, “You Drive Me Crazy” by Britney Spears, “Uh-Huh” by B2K, and “Lucky Star” by Madonna. When I was done watching the videos, there were still 30 minutes left.

I asked for a pass to get the transcript signed. My teacher, Mr. Randall said okay. (I have four male teachers). I went to Mr. Wilkerson’s room and got him to sign it. Then I took the signed paper to the office and they switched my Math class. Then I rushed back to my computer class. There were still 10 minutes left.

I took out my CD player and listened to my Ciara CD again for the remaining time (we are allowed to listen to music quietly if we have free time).

When class was over, I drove home again. I had the same routine again. I don’t want to go into detail.

The next day, I showed up at Mr. Wilkerson’s room. I was amazed that there were only about 10 other students in remedial Math. Mr. Smith’s class had about 28 students. Mr. Wilkerson had me introduce myself to the class. “Hi. I’m Darryl Johnson, a transfer from Mr. Smith’s Math class,” I said, smiling a little nervously.

“Hi, welcome” everyone warmly said. I felt a lot better and began to relax.

Mr. Wilkerson gave me a diagnostic test. At first, I did fine with the basic Math, but once again stuck with the harder ones. Mr. Wilkerson told me I didn’t have to finish all of the test since this was a diagnostic test. I just had to go as far as I knew; I did all of the integers problems, since I could now ace them, since Mr. Smith had taught me how to do them.

I left questions that were advanced blank, I turned it in. Mr. Wilkerson checked my test while I tried to get to know the other students. There were three Hispanics, Jason Ales, a Cuban, Pablo Ales (they were not related), a Puerto Rican, Jorge Jimenez, a cuban, and everybody else were Haitians.(About 58% of North Niami High is Haitian.

We even have a BIG schoolwide celebration on May 18th for Haitian Flag Day.) There were Patrick Hens, Daphne Walton, Octavia Pierce, Willie Anston, Jim Inns, Richard Andrews, Karen Wilson, and Jean Doors (just because they had American sounding last names didn’t mean they weren’t Haitian). They all seemed really nice.

After I got to know everybody, my test was graded. Mr. Wilkerson said I was really good at basic Math and integers, but didn’t know other advanced Math besides integers. I knew that. To make a long story short, he helped me a lot with Advanced Math. I really don’t want to go into detail about Math. I will just say, I understood much more about Math than I had before.

The week went by fast and some of the following went by fast as well. On Wednesday, Mr. Kurns called me into his office and gave me my test results.

Mr. Johnson, your SAT scores are Verbal, 1700, Written, 1800, Math 1350. Your FCAT Scores are English, Number 4, reading, 4, and your Math was a 3. Your IQ is 120.

I nodded my head slowly, showing that I was being attentive. Those were pretty good scores. My IQ was 120? That’s Superior! I’m a genius! I’m a genius! I inwardly gloated.

I put my test results in my book bag. Mr. Kurns said, “And now here comes the good part. (He smiled at me jokingly, because everything was a “good part”). “You have been accepted at Marshall Johnson Academy School in Jacksonville.”

“I was accepted! I had so many emotions running through me. I was excited, nervous, scared, and exhilarated.

“You will finish this school year as a sophomore, but after this year, you are going to Johnson!” He was giving me a big smile.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Johnson.” He shook my hand warmly.

After that day, I worked very hard in Math. I even got my Math average up to a “B.” I finally got on the Honor Roll! I had just needed Mr. Wilkerson’s help.

I finished Sophomore Year with a 3.98 Grade Point Average. On the last day of school, I said goodbye to a lot of students, faculty, and staff. They knew I had been accepted at Johnson.

Over summer break, I began packing for my new life in Jacksonville. My mom came in while I was packing and said, “You know, Darryl, I’m going to miss you.” She had tears in her eyes.

“I know. I’m gonna miss you too,” I said. She wrapped me up in a big hug. I was going to be leaving on Monday, in two days. I hugged her back and gave her a watery smile.

Two days later, on Monday, June 12th, it was the big Moving Day! My mom had had a big going away for me party yesterday and it was like a big family reunion! (And my three best friends were there too). It was so much fun! We even had a cake that had candles on it and mom told me to make a wish (I wished for good luck in Johnson, just so you know).

It was just like having a birthday party! I obeyed mom and gave mom the first slice. Who else could I give it to besides my mom? No one! There was music and lively conversation. Everybody wished me good luck. The atmosphere was very festive.

Today, mom gathered Julian, Sean, Mario, my cousin Tasha, and me in her Ford SUV. Dad picked up some of my other family members in his Ford Expedition. Mom put my luggage in her trunk. We drove to The Miami International Airport.

At the Airport, everybody came out of either an SUV or an Expedition. My luggage was checked, I gave my ticket, and my ID was checked. Mom asked everyone to pray for me and we stood in a line and prayed for my well-being and for me to be blessed.

We gave thanks that I was going to Jacksonville and asked for protection while on the journey to Jacksonville/Johnson and for protection wheel I was at Johnson/Jacksonville. After praying, everybody hugged me. Mom and dad gave me a LOT of spending money, and as my plane was called, I was overcome with emotion. I began to cry.

Sean, Mario, and Julian were hugged me, Tasha gave me a kiss on the cheek, and mom hugged me after my friends did. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and told me she loved me. Dad playfully rubbed my head, looked at me with proud eyes, and told me he loved me.

I pushed the “begrudger” thought in the back of my mind. Then mom gave me one last hug and said she loved me too. Everybody said, “Goodbye for now, Darryl.” I began to walk backwards towards my gate. I blew them all kisses and mouthed, “I love you all,” and waved goodbye. They waved goodbye back.

I soon boarded the plane. The plane was a big American Airlines 747 Jet. I had a window seat, and I put my carry on luggage on the top rack compartment. I was shocked when I saw who my partner was.

The boy looked just like my partner from the Ride Of Doom dream! I did a shocked double take. Actually, he looked a LOT like that boy! If I didn’t know any better, I would say that WAS him! I kept staring at him. He noticed me staring.

”Um, hi,” he said, sounding a little upset. I knew what lied in his greeting. Why the hell is he staring at me like that?

“I’m sorry. You look just like someone I’ve seen before, “I said simply. I was not about to tell him I saw someone who looked exactly like him in my dreams. That would freak him out. Imagine me saying, “Hi! I’ve seen you in my dreams!” And imagine him saying, “Airline Security! Get me away from this loony bin!”

“I’m Darryl,” I said amicably.

“I’m Johnny,” he said softly. Johnny was a fair-skinned boy with chestnut brown short wavy hair. He looked to be 115 pounds and about 5’6.

“So, how old are you?” I asked him.

“I’m 13. How old are you?” He asked back.

“I’m 16,” I answered him.

“I’m going to Tallahassee,” Johnny told me. “I’m going to see my grandma,” he said smiling.

“I’m going to Jacksonville to go to Marshall Johnson,” I said.

“What’s a Marshall Johnson?” Johnny asked me, furrowing his brow.

“It’s a prep school,” I answered him.

“Oh, cool,” Johnny said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him. “So, are you going to spend your summer with grandma?” I asked him.

“Yeah. She’s the coolest grandma ever! She’s totally awesome!” Johnny said, his whole face beaming.

“I see you love Grandma a lot, I said wryly, giving him a little smile.

“Yeah.”

The “Seatbelts” signal went on and we buckled our seatbelts. Then the plane took off. The turbulence was like a loud whooshing in my ears. I wished I had brought some gum to chew.

After takeoff, the plane flew smoothly. Johnny was an amicable kid (meaning he talked a LOT), but he was an entertaining kid.

“So, Darryl, what kind of video games to you play?” Johnny asked me.

“I play Mario Brothers,” I answered him.

“I like to play Sonic,” he answered, but MB is cool too.”

“Is Sonic that blue thing that looks like a porcupine?” I asked.

“Sonic is a hedgehog and he is cool. He has super running sneakers. He beats up a bad scientist that so that he can save animals that turn into robots.

“I thought that all Sonic did was run around,” I said, impressed. “He’s a hero.”

“Yeah, he is,” Johnny agreed.

Johnny took out a handheld Gameboy Advance and played Sonic The Hedgehog. Oh my goodness, that Hedgehog could run! Johnny wasn’t lying!

Sonic could zoom straight through “Acts” at a breakneck speed, but that wasn’t recommended, as Sonic had to dodge fireballs, hit robot animals for points (the “robots” turn into birds when hit), and avoid “squishes” (these “squishes” were obstacles that killed Sonic if Sonic didn’t maneuver through them correctly.

Johnny asked me if I would like to play. I said, “Sure.” Johnny handed me the game console. I super-ran through The Marble Zone (not straight through it though. I played the game correctly). At the end of the Marble Zone, I got to meet Dr. Robotnik, a power mad evil scientist. I tried to jump on him, but that wasn’t working, because he wasn’t dying. He put flames on the ground, and I tried once again to kill him by jumping on him, but I fell into the flames and died.

I got two more chances, and tried to kill Dr. Robotnik both of those times, but died both times, and then Game Over appeared on the screen. Did “Game Over” mean to start all over from scratch? From Act One? 9Dr. Robotnik is in Act Three). I hoped not. The SEGA Logo appeared and I knew it meant to start over from scratch.

Johnny looked at me and then at the game. “Don’t worry. I have a bag full of new batteries.” He showed me a bag full of about 10 more batteries. “You can play until you get to Jacksonville,” he offered graciously.

Play Sonic until I got to Jacksonville? I repeated in my mind . No thank you.

Out loud I said, “I really don’t feel like playing Sonic anymore. (The game is a trip). You can get 80 rings, and then one robot animal touches you, and you lose them all. Rings are your protection for life. Instead of losing them one by one as each animal touches you, you lose them all. Rings are easy to get, but easy to lose. 100 rings give you an extra life. And it’s near impossible to beat Dr. Robotnik at the end of Act 3.

“Okay,” Johnny said. He turned off the power. Then he kept yakking about video games. After a while, he yakked himself to sleep.

As he slept, I reminisced about Robin. When I was 14, my mother married a man named Robin. My stepfather was abusive to me. He would grab me and shake me violently, and then give me powerful blows to my head. He would pick me up and body slam me onto our wooden floor.

He once gave me a black eye. He would act like the perfect stepfather and husband around my mother, hugging me only when she was around and would tell us that he was glad to have me as a stepson. When my mother was not around, evil, maniac,psycho Robin came out and would really lay it on me. I was scared of robin, but I knew my mother loved Robin and called him the man of her dreams, so I suffered in silence.

I would visible tense whenever I was around Robin and would be totally uncomfortable. My mother just thought that I was shy around Robin. Then, one day, Robin gave me a black eye. I put on black sunglasses and went to my room. My mother later came into my room, and I quickly turned away from her, covering the side of my face with my hand.

“Darryl, what’s wrong? Why are you wearing your sunglasses at night? You are not Corey Hart.” She noticed I kept looking away from her. I didn’t want her to see my black eye.

“Look at me,” she demanded softly, but firmly. I turned in her direction. With the sunglasses on, she couldn’t see my black eye.

“Now, take off the sunglasses.”

“Um, I can’t. It’s for a Science experiment,” I lied.

“Science experiment?” She questioned suspiciously.

“Yeah,” I continued to lie.

I knew she didn’t believe me. She knew I was lying.

“What happens in the experiment?” she asked me with narrowed eyes.

“We have to see if the Ozone layer affects us while we are wearing sunglasses.”

“Ozone Layer? Yeah sure,” she replied, unconvinced.

I knew it was a crappy lie, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

She took off my sunglasses. “No!” I screamed in protest. She gasped, very shocked. “What happened to your eye?” She screamed, demandingly.

“I uh. I uh,”……. walked into a door, and it gave me a black eye,” I lied.

“Who did this to you?” You did NOT walk into a door!” She demanded.

“I told you, I walked into a door,” I lied desperately.

“You liar! Someone’s been beating you up!” she screamed, frantically.

“No! No one’s been beating me up!” I lied, even more desperately.

“Robin! Come here! Look at Darryl’s eye! Someone gave him a black eye!” She screamed, sounding really upset.

Robin came in. “Oh my gosh Darryl!” What happened to your eye?” he asked, doing a real good job of pretending to be shocked.

He should have won the Oscar.

I glared at him when mom was not looking.

“Darryl says he walked into a door, but I think someone’s been beating him up,” she said, sounding panicked.

It’s true; I walked into a door, “I insisted, knowing I was really telling a bold-faced lie.

“Stop lying, Darryl! She yelled. “Stop lying! Stop protecting whoever’s hurting you!’ She soon collapsed into tears. It hurt me to see my mother cry, but I couldn’t tell her about precious Robin.

Robin put a comforting arm around her. “I’ll give Darryl some ice and frozen meat to put on the eye,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” she said, still sobbing.

Robin put ice and frozen meat on my eye. He’s a really good actor, I thought as he treated my black eye (that he caused)

Karen: As alluded to I stopped bothering to read this drivel, it is truly juvenile, poorly written, poorly conceived and not at all interesting.

You might as well translate it into Sanskrit for all the good it will do you.

Does a tree make a noise when it falls if nobody hears it?

After that, Robin and mom left. I wrote a “story” about my abusive stepfather. I wrote, “There was a boy named Larry (Larry is “Darryl” without the “D” and rearranged letters, he had a stepfather named Bob (If Robert can have Bob as a nickname, couldn’t Robin also, because of the “Rob” ), and a mother named Andie (My mother’s name is Sandra, and I decided to say “Andie” because “Sandy” is the nickname for Sandra, and I dropped the “S” to make Andy, then put “Andie” to make it feminine. The names I chose took creative thought. It is common assumption that “Larry” is the nickname for Lawrence, Bob the nickname for Robert, and Andie the nickname for Andrea or Aundrea.

In the story, I wrote that Bob used Larry as a punchbag, but Andie had no idea. She didn’t see the fear in Larry’s eyes when Bob was around. She didn’t pay attention to Larry locking his room door when Bob was home. Andie thought everything was A-Ok. Then she found Larry on their driveway one day, bleeding from his mouth and gasping to breathe. She rushed him to the ER, he was treated, and then he told the truth about precious Bob. (I was thinking of the possibility of Robin doing something really fatal to me when I wrote that part.) Andie quickly found out that Bob was beating up Larry when she secretly spied on them. She immediately divorced Bob, and Larry and Andie’s relationship got even stronger.

I quickly put my story in my folder and put it in one of my drawers and went to bed.

When I awoke, my mother was in my room. “Robin told me what he did to you. He confessed that he’s been abusing you for months,” she said, looking at me with pained eyes.

“Yeah. He has been abusing me. He’s the one who gave me the black eye, “I confirmed.

My mother looked at me intently. “I made that up. Robin said he didn’t know where you got that black eye,” she said softly.

“Oh.” I said. I realized I had just spilled the beans.

“I figured Robin had been abusing you,” she said. She told me she had found my story, read it, and found it strange how similar the names sounded to Robin, Darryl, and Sandra. She confronted Robin, he confessed and they got their marriage annulled. I was so happy to be free of him, but sad that mom’s love turned out to be such a jerk. I tried to console her by saying she would find another man, one who was better than Robin, but she said she didn’t need any consoling, but thanked me.

Back to the present. Johnny had woken up and was once again yakking about video games. He yakked for 30 more minutes, and then I said that I was going to sleep. I did for about 30 minutes. When I awoke, the captain was saying that we were passing over Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida! I looked out of the window and looked down at Disneyworld! It was great! I wished Johnny could see it to, but in order for him to see it too, we would have to get permission from the stewardess. I asked the stewardess if we could switch seats, and she agreed. We did, and Johnny’s face lit up as he watched Disneyworld and other Orlando attractions such as Sea World and Universal Studios! After we passed Orlando, we got permission to switch back and Johnny was happy. His whole face beamed! “That was cool!” Johnny said, excited!

“I was glad Johnny was happy, even though I myself missed out. Johnny began to yak about Orlando attractions for another long while, and then we ate lunch. We had bread, butter, baked potatoes, mixed vegetables, pork chops, and apple juice. After lunch, Johnny and I both read Choose Your Own Adventure! (Books where you choose your own outcomes).

The plane arrived in Jacksonville, Florida a couple of hours later. After landing, I got my luggage and said bye to Johnny. “Good luck with Grandma,” I said. “Good luck with Johnson,” he said back. I asked for Johnny’s number (I had received a 1000 Anytime Cell Phone by my mother at the airport in MIA.) Johnny gave it to me. I put it in my pocket, and we both said goodbye. I went into Jacksonville Airport. There were so many people bustling around. It was great. I called for a cab to take me to 12450 S.W. Great Street. That would be my new home. I looked around Jacksonville. It was all new to me, but it was also the same. Jacksonville really didn’t look much different than Miami.

After the cab dropped me off at Johnson, I paid the fare and stood in front of Johnson for the first time. Johnson was a big estate. The main building was a brick building with three stories. I walked into the building.

Inside the building, there was a student tour guide who welcomed me.

“Hey, young man! How are you doing? You are walking in the finest institution in Jacksonville! He said, eagerly with a big smile.

“Hi,” I answered him. Hey Skippy, I thought in my mind. He looked like a “Skippy” to me. Preppy, perky, and eager.

He asked me if I wanted a tour of the school. I said, “Sure,” “Skippy” led me around the school. “Johnson was founded in 1898,” he told me proudly. “It’s been here for 107 years.

I gasped in sheer amazement. “That’s great,” I said impressed. I actually can’t wait to start school here,” I said, smiling eagerly too.

He smiled at me, and said, I agree with you,”

We went to a lecture hall. “Here is where students spend their time to do free stud,” he said. He took me to the dining hall, the gymnasium, the main classes hallways, the dorms, the auditorium, swimming pools, tennis courts, and golf courses. After the tour, he said, “I forgot to properly introduce myself. I’m Max Cartwright. I’m 18 years old and one of the Student Tour Guide s and one of the dorm parents. You probably figured out some of that last part.” He chuckled. He really seemed like a nice person. “What’s your name?” He asked me.

“My name is Darryl Johnson,” I answered.

“You’re a Johnson?” he repeated with raised eyebrows. “You could try to “play” a joke on fellow students and say you are a descendant of Marshall Johnson,” he suggested.

Skippy, I mean Max, must have been smoking something if he believed anybody would fall for me being a descendant of M. Johnson. M. Johnson was White. I was African-American. Anyway, I did like Max. He was very friendly.

Skippy (Max) was a 6 foot, lean guy, with pink skin, and with short blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was wearing Johnson’s uniform: Tan pants with a white shirt and tan tweed jacket, with black penny loafers. Each student was provided with 5 outfits.

I thanked Max, said goodbye, and then went to my dorm (Max had given me my dorm key). My dorm was dorm 309 in Alexander Hall. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I gasped! The dorm looked just like a four-star hotel suite! It was amazing! There were two beds, which I knew meant that I would be having a dorm mate. I put my luggage on the bed and emptied its contents. I began to pack the drawers with my clothes. There was a Zenith TV in the dorm, a Dell Computer with internet access, and a bookshelf with lots of Literature books such as Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell, Pride and Prejudice, and Sense and Sensibility both by Jane Austen.

I had just settled myself on a bed when the dorm opened. I looked to see who would be my new dorm mate.

He walked in, carrying two luggage suitcases. He was tall, about 6’3, lean, and had short brown hair. His skin color was pink. He looked up (he had been looking down at his luggage), and smiled a welcoming smile when he saw me. I saw that he had chocolate-brown eyes.

“Hi,” I’m Dave,” he said, offering me a handshake.

I accepted it and said, “Hi. I’m Darryl.”

After we shook hands, Dave went to his bed and sat/leaned on it. “So, are you nervous about school?” He asked me.

“A little nervous,” I confessed. Tomorrow would be the first day of school.

“Well, I’m a returning student, and I can tell you, this school is not so bad. You’ll be fine,” Dave said. He gave me a reassuring smile.

“Thanks.” I smiled back at him.

“No problem,” Dave said back to me. I already liked this school. Dave and Skippy were so welcoming. I liked them.

Dave unpacked his suitcases and put away his things into his own drawers. After he was done, he asked me about my life.

“So, how did you get here?”

“I got here on a scholarship,” I answered him.

“How did you get that?”

“My mom wanted me to apply for a scholarship, so she told me to apply for one.”

“Oh. Did you get the scholarship right away?”

“I found out I got it after a little over a week.”

“How did you feel when you got the scholarship?”

Some people would have been put off by Dave’s questions and would have thought that Dave was a nosy busybody. But I liked Dave and didn’t mind. I just laughed and answered, “I felt happy.”

“How do you like Johnson so far?” Dave asked.

“I like it. The tour guide is so nice,” I answered.

“You mean Max?” Dave asked. I nodded. “Yeah, he is really nice. He’s one of the sweetest guys around, “Dave said, looking really sentimental.

I suddenly wondered if the two of them had a thing together.

“Are you and Max……….um?” I didn’t want to ask directly, though.

Dave said, “Oh no. We don’t like each other that way. I just admire his sweet nature.”

“Oh,” I said.

Dave left the dorm. I soon fell asleep. Dave woke me up at 7:20. “Come on, get up! It’s time to get ready for school! Here is your uniform.” He gave me a uniform outfit (they looked like the ones Skippy had on yesterday).

“Thank you Dave” I said, thanking him for the uniforms and for waking me up.

“You’re welcome,” Dave answered me.

I sleepily made my way to the bathroom. (Every dorm had its own bathroom). The bathroom was white with a long counter with a sink in the middle of it. There were two towels, one was blue, and the other one was orange.

“Dave, which towel is yours?” I asked.

“The orange one,” he answered.

Dave came into the bathroom without knocking.

“Dave! I admonished him. “You can’t come in without knocking first! I could have been doing………….things.”

“Sorry,” he said. He left, closing the door. Then he knocked.

“Come in,” I said, laughing.

He opened the door and came in.

“I just wanted to tell you where everything was,” Dave said. “The Crest toothpaste is in the top drawer. That’s yours. The blue unopened toothbrush in the same drawer is yours too. My toothbrush is Complete Care. The pink toothbrush is mine. Those two are in the middle draw.”

“We can’t share toothbrushes?” I cracked.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing my Complete Care with you, but you wouldn’t like to share my toothbrush. I have tons of plaque and tartar build-up,” Dave said, smiling.

I asked Dave to look away as I undressed to take a shower. He did.

I went into the shower and closed the curtain. I told Dave he could look anywhere he wanted to now. The shower was really a shower and not a shower/bathtub. The showerhead had 5 different spa settings. I luxuriously showered. I washed with the Dove Bar that was in the soap dish. The water felt so good, and the soap smelled so good that I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to shower for a LONG time. I was in the shower for at least 30 minutes before Dave said, “Darryl! Class starts at 8:30. Do you know it’s 8:05? You’re gonna be late!”

I finished the shower and rushed out. I quickly wiped, put on my clothes, brushed my teeth, and put on my uniform. I quickly brushed my hair, packed my bookbag, put on lotion, and then put on deodorant.

Dave said, “You’re too late to eat “real” breakfast in the dining hall, so here’s a Nutrigrain Bar.” He handed me an Apple Cinnamon Bar (the green colored wrapper). I gratefully accepted it, ate it, and then Dave and I walked to Marshall Johnson school.

I looked at my schedule. My first class would be Intro to Psychology. Dave and I only had two classes together. We said, “Goodbye.”

I walked into Room 101, in the first building. When I went inside, I saw that the seats looked just like the ones from North Miami Senior High. The seats had wooden tops, with a chair attached to the top. Under the seats, you could put books in a little tray. I sat in the third aisle, third row.

Our professor (here they were professors, in N.M. they had been teachers), was a tall balding man with horn-rimmed glasses, pink skin, and a bit of a gut. His eyes were gray.

I looked at the clock. It was 8:31. Other students began filing in. A boy with close cropped brown hair walked in. Another boy with curly red hair came in. Another boy with stringy black hair came in. Another boy with spiky blond hair walked in. More boys came in. A total of 15 boys (including me) were in this class.

Where are there only boys in this class? Where are the babes? You may be wondering. This is an all-boys school. It’s also a predominantly White school. There are only a handful of Blacks, Hispanics, Asians, and Middle-Eastern students here. And when I say handful, I mean like 5 minority students of each minority.

In my psych class, we read about Jeffrey Dahmer, the guy who raped people (mostly guys), tortured and then killed them, and then ate their (dead) bodies. Eew, eew, eew. Gives a new meaning to the term “Loves to eat.” Nasty! Then we had to talk about how J.D. made us feel.

“It’s disgusting,” I said. I wanted to throw up.

“It’s abominable,” Rick Small said.

“I’m glad he’s dead,” Jorge Lopez said. “We’re rid of a person like that.”

“What was wrong with his mind?” Milton Wakeman asked.

Professor Watson answered, “He obviously had a chemical brain imbalance.”

“I think I’m going to have nightmare for weeks,” Rodney Kelly said, shuddering.

Other students murmured disapproving sayings too. After the class was over, it was time for my Remedial Math. (Even though I had gotten a “B” last year in the final semester, North Miami staff still told Johnson I needed Remedial Math. In Remedial Math, there were 10 students (including me). Our professor was a man who looked about 60 years old, but had a full head of hair. (All of my professors are White, so I don’t have to explain their skin colors). He had blue eyes and was about 5’12.

In Remedial Math, we did basic fractions. I really don’t like Math THAT much, so I really will sum up my first class: You have to do the reciprocal of the fractions you see in order to start working on them. (Reciprocal means flip it around).

After R.M, there was Western Philosophy. We had to talk about Socrates, the Philosopher. I’m thinking, “That’s that Greek guy, right?” In my middle school, Thomas Jefferson, Mr. Wright had discussed Socrates with us, but that was over three years ago. I hadn’t really kept in “touch” with Socrates since then.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Tasha

“I like it. The tour guide is so nice,” I answered.

“You mean Max?” Dave asked. I nodded. “Yeah, he is really nice. He’s one of the sweetest guys around, “Dave said, looking really sentimental.

I suddenly wondered if the two of them had a thing together.

“Are you and Max……….um?” I didn’t want to ask directly, though.

Dave said, “Oh no. We don’t like each other that way. I just admire his sweet nature.”

“Oh,” I said.

---

Tasha, not even the gayest of the gay would talk like this. Aside from the fact that all the characters in your stories eventually are revealed to be gay, it doesn't hurt to make all these fags talk like normal people sometimes. Here's how I would rewrite these lines:

“I like it. The dude who gave the tour was cool,” I answered.

“You mean Max?” Dave asked. I nodded. “Yeah, he cool." Dave said.

I suddenly wondered if the two of them had a thing together, but I knew better than to start bringing up gay shit on my first day at school. I didn't want to get bullied for being a fag so early.

“Cool.” I said.

I kept my mouth shut and let the others discuss him. The discussion was interesting and I listened with ears wide open. Then Professor Bryan asked why I wasn’t participating in the discussion. I answered, “I barely know Socrates. We used to talk about him when I was in the 8th grade, but I haven’t thought of him too much since that grade.” I told the truth.

Professor Bryan said, “Now, that’s an honest answer, but I want you to do a report on Socrates to get to “know” him better.”

“Oh, man,” I grumbled. A report on my first day.

“It’s due a week from today,” Professor Bryan said.

“Okay,” I said. My first homework assignment from Johnson! (I HAD to do well in this school because scholarships are only kept for students doing well in schools).

The class talked more about Socrates, and then class was over, and it was lunch time. I went into the dining hall. The dining hall looked like a banquet hall. There were flowers in vases and beautiful Formica long tables. The food was like a buffet.

There were fried chicken, white rice, potato salad, mixed vegetables, bread, butter, and beverage choices such as fruit punch, whole milk, 2 percent milk, 1 percent milk, and skim milk, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, Orange Minute Maid soda, and Evian water. We were served on China plates and had silverware for utensils. I chose fried chicken, potato salad, bread and butter, and some fruit punch.

I saw Dave and sat next to him. He smiled at me.

“Hey, Champ. How’s the first day of school treating you?” Dace asked.

“It’s fine,” I replied.

“Good.” Dave smiled.

Skippy came up to us.

“Hi, Darryl. He Dave,” Skippy said to us smiling.

“Hey Max,” Dave said smiling.

‘Hey,” I said back to Skippy.

Skippy had his own plate of food. He sat down next to me. We all began to eat our food. The food was delicious. It tasted like a chef, not a cook, cooked these delicious foods. (Being in a boarding school, I wondered if a chef did cook these foods).

We all chatted about the school, and soon, lunch was over. Dave and I had the next class together, Botanical Science. We sat down next to each other. Our professor this time only looked like he was only about 28. He was lean, muscular, and tall. (I know, about everyone in this school had brown hair). He kind of looked like a younger Bob Saget (Danny from Full House).

Our first Botanical Science class was about the original scientific names for flowers and plants. We did that for the whole class.

After class, it was time for my History class. For my History class, we studied World War 2. We studied the Holocaust. I shuddered when I read that babies were being thrown into fires under the command of the heinous Adolf Hitler. A.H. was just mean and nasty! I don’t even want to go into detail about him! Nasty man!

After that class, I had Advanced English. We had to proofread college essays from Jacksonville College. After proofreading those essays, we had to proofread essays from the University of Florida. After that, class was over.

I went to my sixth class of the day, Drama. We learned the basics of acting, such as keeping your tone steady while doing diction (speaking). We did a few diction lessons, and then class was over. (Oh yeah, Dave is in this class too).

My final period of the day was French. We learned a few basic words (or reviewed them) such as “hello” is bon-jour, goodnight is bon-nuit (I figured bon-nuit was “goodnight” when I read a book that had a character calling a French restaurant, asking for her parents, and then says, ‘Bon-nuit” and hangs up the phone when she finds out that they have already left). We learned that “Thank you” was merci, Thank you very much is Merci bon coup, please is Sil Vous Plait, and a few other words.

After French class was over, Dave and I walked back to our dorms together. We both decided to just relax for a little while, so we lied down on our beds, just looking and feeling lazy. Soon we were chatting about school again and how we liked our first day.

“I have never had 7 periods in one day!” I exclaimed. “I used to have six periods a day in middle school, and I had 3 blocks a day in my old high school,” I continued.

“That’s how it is here,” Dave said, smiling. “You might as well work a full-time job.

I took out my cellphone from my pocket and called my mother. My phone has a camera in it. She gave me 1000 minutes and told me to use it sparingly (but 1000 minutes is only about 17 hours). I had already used an hour talking to her since I left the MIA airport. I had spoken to her on the plane, when I first arrived in Jacksonville, when I had arrived at Johnson, before I went to sleep last night, right before I went to my first class, and during lunch. Now I was going to speak to her again.

“Hi, mom,” I said when she picked up.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said warmly. “How was your first day?”

“Mom, it was good. I already told you how the first half of my day was, and I also told you the classes I took for the first half of the day. The second half of the day is Botanical Science, History, Drama, and French.”

“7 classes in one day? Woo,” she exclaimed. “Are you sure you can handle that?” she asked me.

“Mom, I used to take 6 classes a day, remember?” I reminded her.

“Yeah, I know, but this is a private school. The work is much harder,” she pointed out.

“Mom, you are right,” I agreed with her. ‘I already have to do a report on Socrates,” I mildly lamented.

“That’s exciting.” She said wryly.

“I know,” I replied wryly too. “I can’t wait for the fun to begin,” I said sarcastically.

“I have to go to work, Darryl. Bye. I love you,” she said, and gave me a kiss over the phone. “Bye, I love you too,” I said, and gave her a kiss back. We hung up.

I had 7 books to NOT lug around (I had a “rollie” bookbag, so I didn’t have to carry 7 books on my back. I began to thumb through my books, trying to prepare for the next day’s lessons. After a few minutes, I got bored, so I closed the books and watched some T.V. Dave was quietly doing his studies. (I would go back to studying later).

I watched Moesha. It was the episode where she wanted to buy her own car and Frank said, ‘If you want to buy a car, you have to limbo under this price,” and she said, with an uneasy look on her face, “That’s a low bar.” Then I watched a TRL rerun. After TRL, I began to study again. I studied for an hour. Then, I figured I had studied enough for the first day, and began to leave the dorm.

“Where are you going?” Dave asked.

“I’m going to walk around the campus to get some fresh air,” I said.

“Okay,” Dave said.

I left. I walked around the campus, and stopped at the student hangout, student Life (outside). Inside is where student planning and events are held. Outside is where students “chill.” I went to a bench and sat there for a while, musing about Jacksonville and Johnson.

It was so different here. Here, everyone wore tan uniforms. In North Miami high, the closest thing anyone wore to tan was Khaki, and in North Miami high, students didn’t wear any uniforms. In North Miami high there were less than 300 white students (I mean, Caucasian), in a student population of over 3,000.

In North Miami, we were protected from the cold of winter most of the time due to being a tropical climate..Don’t get me wrong, though. Sometimes North Miami’s temperature drops as low as the 30’s. But usually the lowest the degrees go are between 40-63. Sometimes, it is 80 degrees in December!

I sat for a few more minutes, and then I got up and walked back to my dorm. I entered the dorm and called Johnny.

“Hi, Darryl,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” I answered. “How’s Grandma?”

“She’s fine,” Johnny answered me.

“So, how ya doing?” I asked.

“I’m fine too,” Johnny answered me.

Johnny and I chatted for a few more minutes, and then we hung up. Then I called Sean.

“Hey, what’s up, G?” I asked Sean. “How’s it going in north Miami?”

“It’s fine. We miss ya, G,” Sean answered me.

“I miss ya’ll too,” I replied. “Doin’ anymore “earnin?” I asked him.

“Yeah. We got $900.00 yesterday,” Sean replied. “How’s it goin’ at Johnson?” he asked me.

It’s straight,” I replied.

Sean asked, “They ain’t workin’ ya too hard?”

“No,” I replied.

Sean said, “Good for ya.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, and then we hung up. I called Julian and we chatted for a few minutes, and then hung up. Then I called Mario. Julian, Mario, and I had basically chatted about the same things Sean and I had chatted about.

Soon, it was dinner time. Dave and I went to the dining hall. We had Pizza Hut Stuffed Crust Pepperoni Pizza, corn, and drank strawberry soda, and then went back to the dorm. I took a bath and changed for bed. I called my mom again, and basically told her goodnight. I went to sleep, and when I awoke it was time to get ready for school.

Dave and I got ready for school. A brief run through of my second day: I did a lot more homework the second day of school, and ended up with 7 hours of homework. For lunch, I had turkey and wild rice, and drank Coke. After school, I decided to buckle down and work straight for a few hours, break, and then start again.

Since we come home before 5, I started at 5 and worked until 8, then Dave and I ate lobster, scalloped potatoes, and drank some grape juice until 8:35 in the dining hall, we came back to the dorm about 8:41, I called my mother at 8:45 and spoke to her until 9:00, and took a bath until 9:25. 9:30-1:30, I finished my homework, and went to sleep around 2:00. (It takes me a while to fall asleep).

When I awoke, it was 7:30. I quickly woke up Dave, and took a 15 minute shower. I brushed my teeth, dressed, and brushed my hair. It was about 7:55 when Dave came rushing in. He quickly showered, brushed his teeth and hair, and dressed too.

We both finished getting ready and Dave smiled at me and said, “Nutrigrain Bar?” I replied with a smile, “Nutrigrain Bar?” We both ate Nutrigrain Bars and RAN to campus. We made it at the campus at 8:25. It took about 3 minutes to get to my class and about 4 minutes to get to Dave’s class.

More work for the third day. The reason I am not really going into detail about my actual classes is because I want to get to the parts that happen OUTSIDE of classes. I already walked you through the first day of classes, and that’s the only day I’ll walk you through.

I was doing my report on Socrates in the school library (the library, believe it or not, has tons of books on Socrates). I had gathered books and had taken notes on him to type into our computer at the dorm, when I saw two brown-haired, brown-eyed guys sneering at me.

I was thinking, “What’s their problem?” I looked away from them and continued to write names on my paper. When I had gathered enough info for my report, I walked out of the library, and started walking through Johnson’s front hall. As I was walking, I saw the Sneery guys.

“Go home Nig.”(That word that we black don’t like white people to call us, but I’ll only write the first 3 letters of that word. I will tell you that it ends like this: ger) Sneery Left said.

“Go back where you came from, Nig,” Sneery right said.

Did they just call me a “Nig?” I thought, seeing red. I wanted to fu both of them up (that “fu” word ends in a “ck”) How dare they call me a “Nig”?

The Sneerys left. I was so angry, I just yelled obscenities. Here is an edited spelling of what I said. (You can pretty much figure out the missing letters for yourself). “Oh fu this shi! Those fuing, fuing, fuing, shi-fuing bitchfuers, motherfuers!”