Allison+C


 * MEMOIR -

I'm a fourth grader at Brunswick Acres Elementary School and probably one of the most shyest in my class. Although, I'm not that shy, I have a lot of friends in my class of 20 students. I only exhibit my shy side around new faces and most adults. As most people may disagree, my parents do not push me on my confidence level as it is obvious that I have a social and normal childhood life.

In contrast, my parents do try and push me with confidence when I tend to participate in sports. I am no star at sports concluding it to be normal that I've always exhibited a borderline hesitant approach to such activities. My father is the parent that pushes me more to do better in sports while my mother still pushes although not to the extent that my father does. My mother is always more rewarding; the parent that I prefer to watch me playing a sport.

Since I have opted out of regularly attending soccer or softball practices, I usually bike through out the street I live on. As I mentioned before, I prefer for my mother to watch me ride, but my dad will do. My father is more enthusiastic than my mother when it comes to watching me participate in sports. That is, mainly because my father is more intrigued into sports than my mother.** **My mother is more easy-going, as my father always pushes me more with sports. Also, he only pushes me for the strive to do better with sport related activities. I assume he is into having a daughter that is good at sports. Although, if I have never fit that image he's has always had, it is okay with me.

Whenever I ride with my dad watching on, it usually ends with me in tears. Not because I hurt myself, but because he pushed me too far where I feel uncomfortable. I've always gotten over it swiftly, so it has never had an overall affect on me. I think the bottom line is that he does not understand my sensitive personality with sports - especially with the sports that I am relatively new at. This is why I prefer to have my mom watch me. She would never exhibit a negative attitude to anything I do and whenever I decide that I am done, I can be finished.

Another thing that always gets me is that I am very cautious. Not is every sport, just biking obviously because I have that tendency to fall sometimes. I'm always afraid that I am going to get my feet stuck in between the peddles and I always become nervous when cars pass by. The term, "Ali, stay to the side!" is a common phrase said by both of my parents. But honestly, I hate staying to the side of the road because I would then be on uneven, cemented ground. I'm not an expert at steering either so I try and spend my time away from the curb.**


 * With the sunshine present, it was a reasonable day outside to ride my bike. This time, my dad came outside to watch me ride. As always, my anxiety level gradually rose up in hope that he would not criticize me. Eager to ride, I clutched the rubbery handles and allowed gravity to help me ride down the driveway. Starting off steady and with confidence I peddled swiftly into the center of the street and made my way around the curves of the road. With a few cars parked on the side, I minded my own way and peddled by them vigilantly with caution to not allow my hands to steer in the wrong way.

After peddling no longer had its purpose since the peddles were already moving faster than my legs could move, I swiftly approached a standing vehicle. Trying to obtain a grip on the peddles while trying to steer away with my hands, it was difficult to multitask. To my surprise, my bike was moving faster than I could have anticipated at the present moment. I was nearing the curb and about to intersect with the corner that was formed between the van and the curb. With my fragile hands shaking violently while still trying to grip the handles to steer away, I failed to succeed as I bumped into the curve and toppled face first onto the sidewalk.

From the shock of falling on my face and aware that it was inevitable to have no injury, I only moved my eyes to re obtain my boundaries. I could not feel a twitch of pain assuming that the accident had happened too fast in a case where the injured area was numb-like. At the sight of my father's pacing footsteps coming towards me, I allowed the weight of my upper body to release onto my hands. Although, I could not entirely help myself up to normal standing position as my father was down by me before I was up at eye level with him. Unable to comprehend what to do with myself, I allowed my father to guide me inside and bring me to my mother. Seeing their horrified expressions on what to do with my injury of what was unknown to me I allowed them to examine me.

As my eyes met the eyes in my reflection of the bathroom mirror, it was clear to uncover the mystery of what was causing my parents to be in such frantic states of mind.** The corner of one of my two front adult teeth was chipped off. Not a sliver of enamel, but the entire corner of one of the most noticeable parts of the human mouth. The tip of my soft skinned index finger felt the rigid surface of my cracked tooth. Noticing the complexity of this injury and oblivious to the fact if it was fixable, I allowed tears to freely flow out the sockets of my eyes. As my present feelings of the moment were noticeable to my mother, she wrapped her arms around me while my dad called the dentist.

The next day passed around and so did my mood from the previous day. A dentist appointment was scheduled for me after school during the week to fix up my tooth. I was not necessarily nervous about this appointment, I just hoped they would fix the tooth in a way where it did not involve the replacement of a fake tooth. Although, I was hesitant about getting on a bike again. Whenever I thought about riding again, I felt a nerve in my tooth hurt with the memory of the day I cracked it.

Short Story...

Cameron Mandell was a homeless young man on the streets of New York during 1928. As the economic and social life of New York was soaring, Cameron's life was stuck on the corner of sixth avenue.

New Yorkers, swiftly walking past the sluggish sight of Cameron regularly became disgusted by Cameron. Although, appearances did not bother Cameron in any way who's hair is similar to a dog's that was left in the rain overnight. Cameron looked as though he was beaten up and never recovered. Cameron, minding his own business and being careful not to stick a leg out by mistake and trip someone was content with the way he lived.

Cameron's life was lived outside of a liquor store a friend of his owned. His friend, Jerry, regularly gave Cameron beer as he could not afford any. As for the needy part of life, Jerry went out of his way to purchase Cameron food when he could not get any himself and washed his clothes. Jerry would offer Cameron to temporarily live with him, although Jerry had a life with a wife and two young children which could not be sacrificed for Cameron.

Cameron's father, Richy, was an alcoholic until which led to a death of alcohol overdose. Ricky's alcohol addiction became worse when new speakeasies around New York sprung up. A regular event, speeding on the newly cemented roads and then halting abruptly near a speakeasy most nights to witness the excitement of the young life. Even though Cameron never joined his father in these actions, he definitely learned from them. Cameron included his father's drinking habits into his life after his father passed away as a comfort. Drinking alcohol to Cameron as though Ricky was there with him. Cameron felt like this since alcohol was such a big part of his father's later life.

After Richy's death, Cameron's relationship with his mother, Jane, grew distant and sour. Cameron's grades started dropping and eventually Cameron made a self-decided decision to drop out of high school.

Jane would have also strongly preferred for Cameron to see past his father’s mistakes as every parent wants the best for their child. Jane thought this way of her son’s future until Richy died. Cameron’s conversations became shorter and less meaningful until there were almost no conversations just a yes, no, maybe, and a fine. Jane tried everything she could have afforded such as therapy, counseling, anti-depression medication. Nothing worked to where Jane wanted Cameron to be. A few months later, Jane concluded that Cameron was just being a teenager who was missing his father.



With the growing number of deaths due to alcohol overdose and/or alcohol poisoning, Cameron started to become hateful for alcoholic drinks. This was all the cause of Cameron's father's death from alcohol. It never hit Cameron until now, when he realized that overdose of alcohol can end his life also. Cameron did not want to end up like his father did, and Cameron knew his father did not want Cameron to follow his foolish and irresponsible mistakes. Every parent wants their child to be better and accomplish more than they did which was how Cameron's father thought too. Even though Cameron's father was barely ever around in his late childhood and adolescent years, Cameron knew that he wanted him to go off to college and be in the career of his dreams. Although, Cameron lived his life the way he liked it and was satisfied with it at the moment.



"Hey Cam, why are you so down these days? What's your beef?" Jerry questioned outside of his liquor store.

"I think I've just grown out of the way I live my life. I've grown out of drinking and getting canned all the time. I mean, why do you have to own a liquor shop?"

"Cameron, it's business! Liquor is all people want right now. It's because of the speakeasies and the flappers... drinking goes along with it." Jerry replied.

"Well I'm sick of seeing all these bluenoses canned and walking around like they're the big cheese or something every night. They look like bozo's in my perspective. Most of these bluenoses are drinking bootleg liquor anyway! The police cannot keep up with all the capers around here at night."

"Man, I wouldn't mind if you wanted me to trade in your liquor for food. I mean, it would save me some clams! I can't argue with you about the drinking problems, I always see dead soldiers in the streets during the morning, they create holes in my tires!"

"I know, the thought of drinking just gives me the heebie-jeebies now, you know, because of my dad".

"Well, to start, you might want to hit the road and find a place that is off the street. That jalopy over there is vacant, you can jazz it up a little. You know, put it on the Ritz."



Cameron took Jerry's advice and led his life accustomed to the old car near Jerry's liquor store. The car helped for shelter when the rain pattered down on the streets surface and during the night, however, Cameron still wandered about the streets that used to be his shelter and entertainment for years. Cameron tried to hide his eyes from everything alcohol related act that he could have experienced seeing. At first, Cameron did hide from it, but seeing all the broken beer bottles on the street during the day made his feelings hit closer to home. Cameron did not know how to stop his addiction. Alcohol was a vital part in almost everyone's life during the 1920's. People would hand alcohol over if you didn't have to pay for it.

Glaring at the beer bottle labels on the street and pondering the thought of why would any person in the right mind want to design a label for a substance that can cause death? Shattering left over beer bottles on the streets and stamping his feet on the hard, cement surface to try and relieve the evidence for police was part of Cameron's new found disgust.



The blazing sun created a new day, yesterday was yesterday and all could be forgotten and left behind. Cameron, stretching his arms in the ripped, outdated seat in the car noticed his friend, Jerry, moving the broom in a way to clean up the broken beer bottles that lay on the hard, cement surface. Cringing the corners of his lips, Cameron opened the car door and allowed his feet to hit the ground. Taking baby steps while trying not to alarm Jerry, Cameron carefully crept up to Jerry as his eyes fell on the sight on the broken glass. "Oh! Hey Cameron, you kind of snooped up on me there" Jerry exclaimed while exhibiting an alarmed facial expression. "Yeah, sorry. I was just wondering what you were doing here. Or what compelled you to actually clean this mess up" "Well, I actually was meaning to have a private conversation with you today about our conversation yesterday" "Okay, well then spill it! I'm open for a good talk." "So, I was thinking about what you said about being sick about drinking and all the bootleg liquor that gets passed around here. I'm not going to close my liquor store for you, but I was talking to my baby last night and we are willing to open our home up to you... for about a month that is." "Oh come on Jerry, that's baloney! Your baby has always been so against me living with you 'cause of your little girls! I'm too dirty for them." "No, no. I'm serious about this one. I told her I talked it over with you and said that you would have to get a job and earn a paycheck for your self somewhere. She agreed to allow you to stay with us for a month only. That is, if you get a job and clean up these habits of yours. You can get yourself off the streets this way and you won't see all of this drinking that's breaking your heart every night." "Yeah man, you know? I really have this new found attitude on my life which is I don't want to be like my father. But are you sure this is alright? You sure everything with your baby is copacetic?" "My baby said yes so she better not be faking it! Just get a job at a hot dog stand or a taxi service and come home with me tonight. I would offer you to come work at my store, but I am assuming that is no longer the ideal job for you."



Allowing the advice and the invitation from Jerry to sink deep into his brain cells to create an answer of which path to take, Cameron pondered about what to do. Sitting on a park bench as he let the information swirl through his head Cameron noticed the young children playing. He noticed how free spirited all of the children looked, especially the children on the swings with their parents pushing them and cheering them on. Cameron could not think of any of these childhood memories as he let a tear drop from his left eye socket. Cameron thought of the time when his father became an alcohol addict and looking up into the never ending blue sky he realized his father never did experience this moment with Cameron that most parents have the opportunity experience. His father was too drunk all the time that Jane would not allow Cameron to see his father or play with him as a young boy. Cameron kicked the mulch in a feeling of disgust that his father could not realize on what he missed out on when he was a parent. Looking at the free spirited, happy children that looked as though they had never experienced a tragedy and never will, Cameron decided that he wanted to be a father. A hands on father. A father that had the opposite outlook on parenting than his own father did.**

__As of now,this poem remains untitled.__

From what I can remember that day was as stiff as ice, as memorable as 9/11, and as depressing as today's economy.

Every feeling and every thought seized to take motion as the clock hands made their way through the numbers.

A house that was filled with numerous amounts of people felt empty, since the person who made things feel   alright, was gone.

Nothing felt as the regular normal. The ongoing awkward silence had its underlying reason, as no one could accept the fact that this incident had to impact them.

i don't like the first line of the last stanza, it's awkward because regular normal doesn't sound right, bcuz isn't regular, normal? i think i get wht ur trying to say though. like it's the "new normal" right? ok i didn't get that at first...