I want this. I wanted it since fifth grade, when stupid Suzy McCallister told me to go kill myself. Me being a 10 year old, assumed she meant it literally. So that night at dinner, I proudly announced(with a mouthful of leftover meatloaf) that I would kill myself. My Nana had fainted as soon as the words escaped my mouth. “Look what you’ve done, you careless child!” My father screamed, rushing over to my grandmother to make sure she was alright. He was never a nice man, an alcoholic, who never deserved my mother. But who was I to speak? Apparently I was just a selfish child after all. It hurt,those words he spoke. But that would be the last time he ever spoke badly of me again. I stomped up the creaky wooden stairs to my bedroom. The animals on the wallpa seemed to taunt me. ~kill yourself~ They chanted. I was going crazy. That’s when I decided. Self-isolation. Until I was finally ready to come out. I didn’t want to hurt my Nana anymore, or hear my fathers cruel insults. I decided I wouldn’t leave my room until at least a couple of weeks have passed. So I stayed. I was hungry most of the time, but my angelic mother noticed I never came out and made excuses for me to my father. Things like,“She has soccer practice,” or “She’s staying with a friend”. My mother was just as scared of my father as I was. Says he never used to be like this. I know it, and she knows it, that I’m the reason he drinks. I’m the reason he yells. And screams. And punches the walls. But neither of us said it. I’ve been in my room for 3 years now. I think my father knows by now. He doesn’t care, but as long as he’s treating my mother and my grandmother fine, then I’m ok with it. My mother slips food into my room at least twice a day. My father just ignores me. Never goes near my room. That’s my self isolation. But in a week, I’m outta here. I’m going to live with my Aunt Christina. The nicer of the two kids my Nana (my fathers mother)had.

I'm a July baby! I was born at 11:45 p.m. exactly on July 1st. By the means of that, I am a Cancer. They describe me as moody, insecure, suspicious and manipulative, which I consider myself as all four! I like going to the beach and praticing art, which includes drawing and painting.Those are some of the common Cancer hobbies. Apparently I am emotional and sensitive, but I wouldn't describe myself as such. I pretty much hide my emotions from other people and only let them out maybe once a month. I choose to be strong, but my sister calls me prideful. And it says I have a temper. They are correct.

There you were. In the middle of the chip and cookie aisle at the grocery store. Holding a basket filled with groceries in the crook of your elbow. You were looking at the Chips Ahoy cookies, turning them over in you hands. You hair was jet black, cut finely around your ears. You wore a white tee-shirt and black ripped jeans. I decided right then and there that I wanted to ask you out. I quickly checked your left hand. No ring, I smiled. You only looked about two years older than me, so I tried to catch your gaze. You looked up from the cookies, and stared at me. You smiled, a kind-of crooked grin. Then you put the cookies back on the shelf and walked closer to me. Biting your lip, you came closer until you were only an inch or two away. Then you whispered in my ear, the sweetest thing I've ever heard anyone say, even to this day. Your breath tickled my ear, but I ignored it. "You look beautiful today." You said, and kissed me. Right there in the aisle. The electricity was amazing! Nothing like all the other guys who'd kissed me. You pointed behind me, so I looked. And when I looked again, you were gone.

My color is what people establish with happy. It is the fourth aesthetic color on the list. When I think of this color, I feel warm inside. Like I am meditating. Like I am calm. There is not much that I can describe about this color; except many think of it as a happy color. A childhood messily colored in smiley face. That is my color.

Love is different for everyone. It is not only what the eye can see. It is deep, a deep and true feeling for someone or something else. It is a genuine feeling towards someone or something that makes you feel excited whenever you see them. Love gives you a flying kind-of feeling, like you can take over the world from the sky. Love can be towards a boy, or a girl, or a significant other, or a parent, a friend, a pet, etc. Love is meant for everyone. It makes you feel like you are special. That you know everything. Love gives you a sense of control, that if you love someone, you understand them. You know them. Love feels secure. If someone loves you, you feel all warm and cozy inside. It makes you feel at home. It makes you happy. That is what I think love feels like.