i am taking an AP English Lang/Comp class this year...and here is the first paper i have had to write!! (it will probably be the best)
My Real Life Boogieman
I turned around and there It was—my worst nightmare, right before my eyes. Black, bushy hair hung down its back and stuck straight out like spikes in some places. It had hunched shoulders and long, gangly arms that hung down towards its knees—almost like a gorilla. That pale face—with a look of pure hatred—was all I needed to see to know that my time would shortly be over. (Those claw-like fingers were definitely aimed at my neck!) If only I could make a sound…or get away.
All of my life, my imagination has tended to run a little wild. In every book I have read, the characters have literally leapt off the pages to surround me. Monsters have chased me down the hallway into my closet; I have swum with the fishes in the ocean, and I have been on a ship hunting Moby Dick. I have scaled the edge of an erupting volcano with a famous explorer. Mr. Darcy and I were in love. I have drifted into oblivion after flying to Neverland, and Voldemort has fled from me in fear. I have run with the bulls in Pamplona—since I would never do such a thing in real life—and, while lost in the jungle, I had to fight for my chance to live—and swing in the canopy with monkeys, of course. Maybe this would be one of many reasons for the overly-dramatic image I had formed in my mind of my best friend when I saw her for the first time.
At the age of ‘eight going on nine,’ I went to an activity at the house of a family in my church ward. I was with a group of girls who were between the ages of eight and eleven. I hadn’t been to many of these activities, so it was new territory for me. Many of the people there were strangers in my eyes. I was looking forward to the craft, but I was worried about who would be there and wondered whether or not I would make any friends. Even though my mom has always told me, “You never know where your next friend will come from,” I was still anxious.
Around the time for me to leave, I walked through the living room and stopped to talk to the hostess and her daughter, Chelsea. I had known Chelsea since we had attended the same session of Tiny-Tots when we were four, but I had never met her family. This was as good an opportunity as any, I thought. We were standing there chit-chatting when Chelsea’s sister, Brittney, joined our circle. Brittney has always stood a head taller than me. Her height, along with her stance and the way she held herself that night, made me catch my breath. My eyes gradually grew in size when I could not find an end to that mop of hair, and a look of horror crossed my face as I noticed her scornful scowl. I couldn’t believe that I was standing next to a real life, make-believe creature! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the image of the Hunchback of Notre Dame and the Beast mixed as one. She looked like a cougar ready to pounce on the next innocent little girl—me—that looked at her the wrong way. Fortunately, I didn’t scream—at least until I was out of ear shot, safely at home, locked in my room, with a pillow covering my face.
My brain has worked its imaginative juices in many instances, but this would be the number one incident on my list entitled Things-never-to-repeat. (An imagination that works overtime all of the time is not a good thing.) I walked into my house that night hyperventilating and hoping that It wasn’t following me, waiting for its chance to swallow me whole. At that moment, I had vowed to never go near Brittney again. Unbeknownst to me, this single declaration would change dramatically in the future. I could never have known the impact that Brittney would make on my life.
It wasn’t until I turned twelve that I realized what a big misunderstanding had taken place and the mistake I had made in promising to ignore Miss Brittney. I had just started going back to church after being inactive for a few years, so I had no friends or acquaintances in the ward. Brittney was the first girl to befriend me. She was there to answer my questions and to lead me in the right direction when I had lost my way. I had never known such a true friend. She turned my boring self into a being of excitement and fun. We could smile and giggle uncontrollably with a single look; we could know exactly what the other was thinking when someone said something funny. She was not the monster that I had envisioned when I was eight. My original perception could not have been more wrong than the idea of purple pudding. I have never met any other person with whom I am more compatible.
At first glance, Brittney may look scary, or impersonal, or exactly as I would picture a boogieman, but I have learned that I cannot judge the outside; the heart is all that matters. If there were an award for honest character and unconditional love for those in need of it, Brittney would be the recipient. First impressions do not always show true character. That does not mean that they will not reflect on the image someone will form of a person, but we should always give people the chance to redeem themselves. If we did not give these opportunities, what would happen in this world full of crazy people? I do not want to imagine where I would be without my best friend standing next to me in the most influential period of my life.
I turned around and there It was—my worst nightmare, right before my eyes. Black, bushy hair hung down its back and stuck straight out like spikes in some places. It had hunched shoulders and long, gangly arms that hung down towards its knees—almost like a gorilla. That pale face—with a look of pure hatred—was all I needed to see to know that my time would shortly be over. (Those claw-like fingers were definitely aimed at my neck!) If only I could make a sound…or get away.
All of my life, my imagination has tended to run a little wild. In every book I have read, the characters have literally leapt off the pages to surround me. Monsters have chased me down the hallway into my closet; I have swum with the fishes in the ocean, and I have been on a ship hunting Moby Dick. I have scaled the edge of an erupting volcano with a famous explorer. Mr. Darcy and I were in love. I have drifted into oblivion after flying to Neverland, and Voldemort has fled from me in fear. I have run with the bulls in Pamplona—since I would never do such a thing in real life—and, while lost in the jungle, I had to fight for my chance to live—and swing in the canopy with monkeys, of course. Maybe this would be one of many reasons for the overly-dramatic image I had formed in my mind of my best friend when I saw her for the first time.
At the age of ‘eight going on nine,’ I went to an activity at the house of a family in my church ward. I was with a group of girls who were between the ages of eight and eleven. I hadn’t been to many of these activities, so it was new territory for me. Many of the people there were strangers in my eyes. I was looking forward to the craft, but I was worried about who would be there and wondered whether or not I would make any friends. Even though my mom has always told me, “You never know where your next friend will come from,” I was still anxious.
Around the time for me to leave, I walked through the living room and stopped to talk to the hostess and her daughter, Chelsea. I had known Chelsea since we had attended the same session of Tiny-Tots when we were four, but I had never met her family. This was as good an opportunity as any, I thought. We were standing there chit-chatting when Chelsea’s sister, Brittney, joined our circle. Brittney has always stood a head taller than me. Her height, along with her stance and the way she held herself that night, made me catch my breath. My eyes gradually grew in size when I could not find an end to that mop of hair, and a look of horror crossed my face as I noticed her scornful scowl. I couldn’t believe that I was standing next to a real life, make-believe creature! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the image of the Hunchback of Notre Dame and the Beast mixed as one. She looked like a cougar ready to pounce on the next innocent little girl—me—that looked at her the wrong way. Fortunately, I didn’t scream—at least until I was out of ear shot, safely at home, locked in my room, with a pillow covering my face.
My brain has worked its imaginative juices in many instances, but this would be the number one incident on my list entitled Things-never-to-repeat. (An imagination that works overtime all of the time is not a good thing.) I walked into my house that night hyperventilating and hoping that It wasn’t following me, waiting for its chance to swallow me whole. At that moment, I had vowed to never go near Brittney again. Unbeknownst to me, this single declaration would change dramatically in the future. I could never have known the impact that Brittney would make on my life.
It wasn’t until I turned twelve that I realized what a big misunderstanding had taken place and the mistake I had made in promising to ignore Miss Brittney. I had just started going back to church after being inactive for a few years, so I had no friends or acquaintances in the ward. Brittney was the first girl to befriend me. She was there to answer my questions and to lead me in the right direction when I had lost my way. I had never known such a true friend. She turned my boring self into a being of excitement and fun. We could smile and giggle uncontrollably with a single look; we could know exactly what the other was thinking when someone said something funny. She was not the monster that I had envisioned when I was eight. My original perception could not have been more wrong than the idea of purple pudding. I have never met any other person with whom I am more compatible.
At first glance, Brittney may look scary, or impersonal, or exactly as I would picture a boogieman, but I have learned that I cannot judge the outside; the heart is all that matters. If there were an award for honest character and unconditional love for those in need of it, Brittney would be the recipient. First impressions do not always show true character. That does not mean that they will not reflect on the image someone will form of a person, but we should always give people the chance to redeem themselves. If we did not give these opportunities, what would happen in this world full of crazy people? I do not want to imagine where I would be without my best friend standing next to me in the most influential period of my life.
1 comment:
I love this paper!! I see ya got to 4!!!
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