SOL 31/31

Although I wish I could take credit for these pictures, they were all taken by my twin brother, Daniel.

On a trip to Hilton Head exactly one year ago, (last spring break) We went on a boat tour around a lake to look at the various animals. Here is the result: 

Later on the trip, we took a boat to Daufuskie Island. There were no cars on the island, so we rented a golf cart to explore the island. It had old decrepit cemeteries with graves dating back to the late 1700's, an old lighthouse where a woman had killed herself, old slave quarters, a beach where fifty indians had been massacred, and scattered remnants left by civil war troops. On top of that, a section of the island was dotted with mansions. It was truly an amazing and unique place - brimming with history, with beautiful but eerie scenery. The island had an unsettling feeling because of it's dark past and because of the thick and dark forests. The island was of the grid - and with all the historic sites, it del like a step back in time. Except for the mansions and yachts, of coarse. Here are some more pictures:

SOL 30/31

"Daniel, turn it around!"

"I can't! It's not working!"

"Come on, it's going to far!"

It was a few days after Christmas in 2009. I was obsessing over my present which I had gotten on Christmas - a large remote control Air Force One. It was three feet long, and had at least a two foot wingspan. It had four electric engines. We took it out to Crestmoor park, which had a small layer of snow. We had to run while someone else started up the engines, then throw it forward while the person with the remote forced it upwards. Most of the time it didn't get enough lift and smashed into the snow, but occasionally it kept going.

It flew thirty, forty, or even fifty feet in the air - and it usually got a couple hundred feet away from us before we had to land it because it couldn't turn very well. We each got to fly it, and it was a lot of fun. That is of course, until Daniel took a turn. He was good at flying it, but made a fatal mistake. Someone ran, and he started up the four mini engines as they threw it. It arced upwards, and across the park. It went over the trees and over the street, and over the neighborhood.

It flew into the distance, shrinking and shrinking. Daniel lost control, because it went out of range - he couldn't turn it around. However, then engines kept running, so the plane kept flying into the distance until it became a small black dot, and sunk into the horizon. Daniel was embarrassed and felt very guilty. Especially as I fought back tears from losing my new present, and Alex yelled at him.

We searched the neighborhood for weeks, scanning the tops of houses and searching construction sites. We put of flyers, and searched some more - but to no avail. It was gone, and I began to forget about it. Three months after we lost it, we mentioned the plane to a neighbor who said they saw it in a tree. The tree was on the way to school - we had driven by the lost plane for three months and been oblivious to the fact that we went past it everyday. My parents scaled the tree and returned it to us. My present was returned - and the case of the missing air force on was solved.

SOL 29/31

"Aw, you died. Should have been paying attention." He jeered.

"Aaron, Aaron, this is just to easy." He teased.

"Nope. Not going to beat me." He gloated.

I couldn't take it any longer. I stared at him as he stared at the screen, a grin on his face. Anger built up inside me. He killed me over and over in this game, and then teased me. We had been neutral for the past week that he had been back - but now I could barely contain my temper. Without thinking, a victim or my anger, I threw it at him. I tossed my remote with a flick of my wrist, and it hurled through the air like a ninja star. It hit him in the jaw. It was all worth it just to see that grin turn into a look of surprise and shock. Just to wipe that smile form teasing me off his face.

He jumped up, his anger building, mine dwindling and being replaced by fear. He lunged over to me, and I immediately recoiled, putting my arms and legs up in self defense. He reached around to push and hit me as I kicked and punched to keep him away. Neither of us would give up. We hit, and wrestled - we fought dirty, too. It hurt. I scratched him hard. We were both completely fuming until my dad came down.

Suddenly it hit me what I had done. Shattered the fragile connection we had, and lost the confidence in my parents that we could get along. It was basically the same scenario me and Alex had been through a million times before he went to college - we treat each other horribly until eventually fight, and yell at each other and get in trouble. Then it repeats.

This time he yelled at me for starting a fight and not containing myself. I yelled at him for teasing which strained out fragile truce, and I yelled at him for not stoping the fighting even though he was bigger. He also yelled at me for not stopping. Neither side was just, but neither of us would admit defeat. Alex was completely convinced it was all my fault - and he claimed that he was the victim. I began to give in, and stopped yelling. I didn't care anymore. He would leave in a week or so - why make a fuss?

I was so emotional as we yelled, a mix of disappointment in myself, anger, and overwhelming hurt. It was just like we had done before, be rude, then yell and fight and not give up. I went upstairs and cried. It had been a long time since I had cried. Now I was crying hard -  didn't know why exactly. Maybe I was mourning the loss of our relationship. I was just so upset, and angry, and hurt. I stayed in my room alone for a while.

A week later when he left, I hugged him. I wanted to cry again, but for a completely different reason. I missed my older brother.

SOL 28/31

This is a scary movie that I made with my twin brother Daniel, as well as Sarah and Jason. Daniel filmed and played a small role, and me and Jason both played small roles throughout the movie. Sarah had the main role. We all contributed to writing out a basic script, then we just filmed. It was fun to make - and if it doesn't scare you, you might get a laugh out of it. Enjoy.

SOL 27/31

"Hey, wanna see something cool?"

"What is it?"

"It's just cool, come over here."

He walked back towards us, illuminated by the lazy afternoon sunlight. He crouched down and crept under the counter. We were in the back room of extended care, out of range of the teachers. We built up one blocks to make a little cave, just suitable to our second grade self. Me and Dee Dee waited in the shadows as the boy crept towards us. Once he was far enough in, we smiled to each other. He had been lured into the trap.

"So what is it?"

"Look. It's cool."

Me and dee dee got several colors of chalk and drew all over a small green chalk board in the dim light as he watched. He had no idea of what he had walked into. Once it was covered, we erased it all, until the erasers were covered in chalk dust. It was time to initiate our devious plan to our hapless victim.

"Now!" Me and Dee Dee yelled.

We covered our faces with the tops of our shirts and banged our erasers together. Colorful clouds of pink and yellow and blue dust billowed out, filling the room, creating a soft moving haze. They coughed and sputtered as we laughed maniacally, and as they stumbled out of the cave and into the warm light, we gave each other high fives. Our pointless mission was accomplished.

Unfortunately, I crime spree came to a close a few minutes later after we'd been told on. However, the charges were dropped.

SOL 26/31

It was the last day of my debate matrix, and we were doing fun debates as a little celebration. I was debating with Kyra. We Were debating against two other people, although I don't remember who. The debate was: Who is better? the wolf from little red riding hood, or the wolf from the three little pigs. Our argument was that the wolf from little red riding hood was better, and there argument was that the wolf from the three little pigs was better.

They made some kind of ridiculous argument, like: The three little pigs wolf is big and strong and destroys houses with his breath! or something like that. We countered their argument, and argued that are wolf was big and scary and sneaky. Just before the debate was about to end, I delivered one line that I am proud of to this day. I said: 

"The wolf from little red riding hood is scary, and sneaky, and smart. Their wolf, however; well he just blows."

After a short pause, several members of the audience yelled out, or laughed, or cheered. My opponents looked frustrated and surprised. I had a huge grin on my face.

SOL 25/31

Endangered

Sophie was not particularly excited to visit the Congo. The only reason she went was to visit her mom, who was the head of a Bonobo sanctuary there. Sophie's feelings change when she buys and injured, orphaned Bonobo. Her mother is somewhat upset because buying the ape promotes orphaning and selling Bonobos, but for Sophie, it is worth it. As Sophie begins to have a deep connection with the ape, who's name is Otto, a rebellion breaks out in the country. When the violence spreads to a nearby town, and the sanctuary is attacked, Sophie flees with the ape after refusing to be evacuated. She heads into the sanctuary, and into the jungle - hoping that the she can escape the rebels, and the apes within the jungle.

This book was exciting, and exhilarating. It's a survival, adventure book - but also has a lot of information on Africa and Bonobos. I read the book because I read the sequel to this book, (which is unrelated) and was very good. This one was better, and more exciting. I would recommend this if you like easy, but exciting books. I really liked it - and I think just about anyone can enjoy it.

SOL 24/31

We were walking down the street, on the way back from the park. Our house was just coming into sight as my step mom drove by. We walked up to the house as she got out of her car to greet us.

"Hi!" We all said.

"Hi!, did you leave the door open?'

The front door was ajar.

"No, we were just at the park for thirty minutes."

Worried, we all went inside. The chairs were pushed over, furniture slightly rearranged, dishes were on the floor, it was a mess. However, nothing big was gone, and nothing was broken. None the less, we were all freaking out, we looked around and surveyed the damage. everything was just out of place. We assumed money would be missing.

"Oh my god - oh man." I said.

My babysitter and brothers gasped and looked in awe as they walked around.

"Maybe we were robbed." I suggested.

"Wait - is this an April Fools joke?" My step mom asked.

"Yes! Ha ha!" Me and Daniel yelled and started laughing.

My stepmom started laughing, too.

We explained that we had messed up the furniture and left the door open just before she got there, and then walked up the block, with the house still in sight to make it look like we were walking home. It was fun, and it worked.

SOL 23/31

4 8 15 16 23 42

"Dude, you should really watch this show me and my family started - it's just great."

"What's it called?"

"Lost."

I convinced my mom to take me to the video store, which was where the new Trader Joe's now sits. Once we brought it home, me and Alex had a fight over who got too use the TV. The game was on, and alex wanted to watch it very badly, but we wanted to watch Lost. Eventually he won and we took the DVD player downstairs and hooked it up to the TV there. After the first four episodes, I was hooked. Addicted. I started watching in second grade, and continued watching the discs from this video store. My brother and mom were also hooked by that point. Me and Daniel struggled with horrible internet on my mom's old laptop to watch little bits of the next episodes once we finished a disc.

By the third grade, we watched through the first three seasons. I knew almost all of the characters actors names. I ran through the plot lines over and over in my head. I studied the mythology within the show, and often sat and thought about the various deep questions I still had about the show. I wanted to know more about the island. I wanted to know more about the others. So many unanswered questions. By then, we started watching the episodes that aired on TV, and watched season four week by week, until the epic cliff hanger, which left us wondering for five or six months. I scrutinized the internet for spoilers, but I never got any. I waited and waited, puzzling over the many mysteries of the show.

Finally in the fifth grade I watched season five week by week, by which point I was a Lost fanatic. I new everything about the show (maybe not everything) and I followed along easily. I was never confused, like some people who watch the show. After another epic cliffhanger we had to wait seven months. I watched the final season also week by week. Now, after Lost has been off the air for several years, I have seen every one hundred and something episode at least twice. Lost was only the beginning of my infatuation with many shows - like Breaking Bad and Dexter. Lost was the gateway drug for me, so to speak. Anyone that hasn't seen Lost should consider watching it.

SOL 22/31

"Alright, I want you to run down this platform, right here, and once you get to the yellow striped section, jump. Not too late, because you won't get enough speed. Don't go too early because you will hit you but on the end, and slide of, then go super slow, and while that will be funny for everyone else, it will suck for you."

Everyone in the group stood silent, gaining the courage to do it. They listened, the excitement and anxiety growing. I was somewhat nervous - but mostly I just wanted to do it. It looked awesome.

"Now, everyone, make sure your helmet is on, then get in a line. When we hook you up, go ahead. Alright, who's first?"

Once I was next, I stepped up, and they attacked my harness. I ran down the platform, and jumped ant the end. I fell for a few seconds, then the steep decline of the zip line caught me and I hurtled downwards. I flew down and over the canopy of the forest, wind rushing around me. I continued for what seemed like a few minutes until I glided over the platform, slowed to a stop, glided back over it, and slowed to a stop once more. They got me off and I stepped onto the platform to greet my brothers. I asked:

"Well, what next?"

SOL 21/31

"That was actually really nice. I enjoyed it a lot." I said, looking over to my mom as we boarded the plane, stepping into the cabin from the walkway.

"I liked it a lot too." She said as we began to walk past the rows of seats.

Once we reached our seats, we sat down, and twenty minutes later the plane took off, and we began to fly across South Carolina, en route to Denver International Airport. We settled in, and got some sodas. The flight when fairly quickly, I zoned out as we flew over the midwest, and I was surprised to find we had been flying for three hours. Only one hour to go. My mom decided to take a quick nap and put back her seat.

There was a mother and three kids behind my mom, and though my mom didn't realize it at the time, the mother was standing up right behind her seat, holding drinks. When my mom put her seat back, she inadvertently bumped the woman, who in turn spilled the drinks all over herself. She sighed loudly, clearly and justly angry. My mom quickly put up her seat and kept it there as the woman went to get napkins.

When she came back and passed behind my moms seat, she roughly and obviously shook the seat acting like she pushed it to get through. We were quiet and diligent for the short remainder of the flight, and when it landed, the woman quickly got her kids and got off the plane avoiding my mom. It was kind of funny how big of a deal she (the other mother) made out of the incident, but we didn't mind. Lesson learned: be careful about putting your seat back on a commercial plane.

SOL 20/31

"Ooh. Maybe I'll get the yellow tail roll. It that too much? I don't know if I should get it, I mean it's expensive - and we already have a lot…" He smirked.

"Alex, get it if you want it!" I said, frustrated.

"Hey, no need for the attitude, Aaron!" He said.

"Yeah Aaron. He was only joking." My mom said.

"I'm sorry - he was just - being annoying…" I muttered.

"And our dinner was going so well." He said.

"Okay, it's just that you were making me angry, because you were like -"I started to say.

"Look Aaron, just be quiet."He said sternly, and continued to say: "I didn't miss this."

"Me neither." I whispered under my breath.

"Alright, let's figure out what we should order." Alex said.

"I ordered what I want." Daniel said.

"I got al the things I want - and you can't have any." My mom said in a joking, but serious way.

"What?" Alex asked.

"Well you got what you want, and I got what I want. And I don't like your stuff, so we'll just eat separately." She replied.

"Mom - No… come on! This is supposed to be - like - it's like a minimalist theme. We're getting to much anyway. What will the waiters think of us!?"Alex said nervously.

"Oh honey, it doesn't matter - what we got is fine." My mom protested.

"No mom, please - let's just share."Alex continued.

"Okay - you can have a few." My mom allowed.

"And Aaron, what do you want?" Alex asked.

"What we got is fine." I said sullenly.

"Aaron will you just tell us what you want?" He asked a little louder.

"I told you. This is all fine." I said.

"No, come on Aaron." He said.

"I told you! Fine, lets also get a rainbow roll." I gave in.

"Alright. Let's order." He said, finally satisfied.

SOL 19/31

Bicycling is an excellent sport. It's both a good way to exercise and enjoy yourself, but also an easy form of transportation. However, sometimes biking can be - unpleasant. Especially if the bike is not used in the way it was meant to be used. My first unfortunate experience was several years ago, when my older brother convinced me to high five him as I past him on my bike. I did, but my handlebars turned suddenly, so he bike rapidly shifted to the left and I flew off, injuring myself. Nothing long lasting, but it hurt.

Another unfortunate experience is when I thought it was a good idea to bike to Noodles and Company during the winter. It was all great until we reached a particularly flat and wide section of cement sidewalk. The sidewalk was also, sadly, covered in black ice. I was gracefully moving along when my bike seemingly slipped from under, and went to the right. I slammed my left side against the ice. However, I did not cry, I just biked the rest in pain.

One of my most surprising and frustrating experiences was when I was in a bicycling class at Logan. There were two separate classes given at that time to two different age groups. The classes were at different times, so when people in one class forgot their bikes, they could use bikes left by other students in the other class. Once, my bike was risen by a different person, who had adjusted the seat. When I rode the bike the next day, once we were steadily going, the seat just slipped. They hand't tightened the seat enough when they adjusted it, so when I rode it, It slipped down to it's lowest position, and I bounced off backwards. I was okay, but angry. After my unfortunate set of experiences I now have a series of memories I can look back to - so I know what do do, and what not to do on a bicycle.

SOL 18/31

"Why me mom! Oh god… Why me! No…No! Why me!"

I sit on the couch, doing nothing out of the ordinary. I'm watching TV with my mom. We are watching Color Splash with David Bromstad. It was a home design show where a designer would redo one room in someone's house. It wasn't particularly intertwining, but I had nothing else to do. I remember the designer saying:

"Let's see what happens next."

As the show cut to a commercial break. Almost at that very second, a loud knocking at the door. After a few seconds, we paused the TV to go get it. We answered the door, and standing there was a man. He asked my mom if she had a teenage son. She answered yes, thinking of my older brother Alex, who was at the park with Daniel. He ran down the steps and led him to the door. Alex was a bloody mess. His face was dirty and coved in scratches. Blood seeped from his mouth. He didn't act like his normal self.

"He was just out there, wandering in the bark. He was barely able to ride the bike. I asked where he lived, and helped him back."

My mom collected Alex who was openly crying, and she asked him what happened. He told us that he had had a bike accident at the skate park. Daniel had him ride back to safety with the only bike, and walked back himself. She took him into the bathroom to clean him up. I took his bike around back, my mind racing. When I came back inside, I heard him yelling.

"Why me mom! Oh god… Why me! No…No! Why me!"

As he was getting cleaned up, I saw a glimpse of him. His mouth appeared to be full of blood. My heart skipped a beat. Alex also acted differently - he was yelling and was delirious. Finally Daniel came home and we rushed to the car and went to the hospital. Once there, they did some initial clean up and did a cat scan. Daniel told us that Alex face planted after crashing his bike, and several onlookers just stared as Daniel struggled to get Alex out of the skating bowl he had crashed in. Daniel was very shoo ken up. When alex got back, we must have had the same conversation fifteen times. He asked the same questions over and over.

"Was I wearing a helmet?"

"Where's dad?"

"What happened?"

"Was I wearing a helmet?"

"Where's dad?"

"What happened?"

Each time he would forget the answer due to a mild concussion. He would use tissues, and then see the pile and forget that he used the tissues. He cried for much of the time there. He didn't know the date, and he didn't know what he'd done earlier that day. The doctors told us he had broken the bone between his jaw and nose. We went home that night tired and worried. My mom stayed up all night checking on Alex.

SOL 17/31

"I'm really not so sure about this. It seems - really scary. Like, really, really scary. Not to mention dangerous!" I protested.

"Aaron, come on! I'll do it if you do it. It'll be fun. You will be so bumped if you didn't end up doing it."He said.

"Oh - O.K., I guess. But I will turn around if I decide I don't want to!" I announced.

We descended into it, a jagged, gaping black hole that lies at the bottom of a crack, hundreds of feet above a steep hill on a mountain. We drove all the way up here, and climbed up this huge hill - I convinced myself it shouldn't be for nothing. Once we lowered ourselves down the crack, and into the gaping hole, the light getting dimmer and dimmer, we finally reached the cave floor. We turned on the lights that were duck taped to our helmets.

There was only two guides responsible for the dozen teenagers that climbed into the cave. It was a public cave so to speak, so there was no official guides. Graffiti lined the walls of the first room - but most didn't dare to go farther. Except us. The first room was the largest, maybe ten feet tall at it's tallest and eight feet wide at it's widest. We crossed the room, and pulled ourselves into the jagged tunnel that led deeper into the mountain.

We crept in, lowering to a crouch. The tunnel turned, and narrowed. The group slowed. After a few minutes we reached the passage way. A small, awkwardly shaped room that roughly sloped downwards, but was full of large rocks. We slowly climbed down; going over, under, and between rocks. Then, we reached the "slide."

The slide was simple, a crack in the mountain that had two vertical walls around two feet away from each other, that led twenty feet down. We were supposed to squeeze between the walls, and slide down, using our strength to push against the wall to avoid falling straight down. After that, we wee supposed to crawl through a tiny hole, climb up a different route, and leave the way we came. When my turn came around I was scared out of my mind. But I squeezed into the crack anyway, and pushed.

I started sliding down, my hands and shoulders and knees scraping the wall, holding me up. All I could see was my arms and the wall in front of me, but I could sense that I was far from the bottom. My hands and knees were scraped until they hurt, and I almost fell a few times. My arm was stuck for a few seconds at one point. But I reached the bottom, and we all climbed out as fast as we could. Getting out of the dark, claustrophobic cave was one of the most stress relieving experiences of my life.

SOL 16/31

The lights went out, and they crept out onto the stage. dim blue light illuminated the stage just enough for me to see the dark figures mill about the stage swiftly, placing set pieces and moving props. I could care less about the play, I didn't really understand a lot of it anyway. Antigone was just not that interesting for me in the second grade. However, those secretive people that snuck around in the dark were super cool. They were so mysterious, and well, just, seemed pretty chill. I wanted to be one.

"Okay, it's a scene change after this song!" Kendal yells out, and we all take a quick glance at the TV, which shows the actors running across the stage and dancing in their animal costumes.

We run into the dark doorway, and to our next jobs. I walk past the rows of curtains as I hear the last few lyrics and music notes, before he lights fade and die. In the darkness, I reach for the flat and lift. I carry it, feeling my way through curtains. I step on stage, and up on the platform, bathed in dim, warm light. I set the flat, and I can almost sense the hundred people that watch me. I swiftly fall back into the curtains and back into the Myg. Another change done right. Now I can relax. I thank back to that time in second grade when I wanted to be one of those dark figures that runs around in the dark, and how mysterious they were. I smile to myself, and go to my next job.

SOL 15/31

Most of the memories I have of her are from conversations I had about her from other people.

“Aww, look at Rocky. He has his legs and arms tucked under his body.” I said to my mom, as I looked at our cat.

“My mom used to call that boating.” She said.

“Oh. Well he’s boating.” I responded.

That was one of the last times I talked about my grandma with another person. However, not all of my conversations about her were so… simple.

“What should we play?” Someone asked. I no longer remember who.

“How about hearts?” Someone else proposed.

“The one time I played hearts with my mom, I gave her the queen of spades and she quit.” My mom said. We all half laughed, half sighed.

“Yeah, Jean, your relationship with Gloria was – well, it had it’s ups and downs.” Said someone else, probably my grandpa.

“She loved your brothers Jean, but you were never quite her favorite. I bet if she was on a sinking ship and there were only so many lifeboats, she would give your brothers, or one of your brothers her seat. But with you, I’m not sure. She might leave you behind.” Said my Grandpa.

“No, she would quit the game of hearts and get onto the lifeboat while you were still playing.” Said my older brother. We all half laughed, half sighed again.

On the day we went to the funeral, I spent a long time getting ready to look nice. When I came downstairs, my mom looked at me with an almost sad, but touched face.

“You even parted your hair. It’s not that – important, honey.” She said softly.

“Well, it’s important to me.” I said proudly.

At the service, a relative of mine talked about going to my mom’s house when she was growing up, and seeing the kittens climbing on the screens of the screened-in porch. He also talked about how my grandma would always say: “Tell me when,” when she poured you a drink. I like to think that is my memory, to. I have a picture in my head of those kittens on the screens, and her voice telling me to: “tell me when.”

The only time I remember interacting with her was a few years ago, at a retirement home. She was deteriorating, mentally and physically. However, I like to think I could still see that grandma that I knew from other people’s memories. That woman that I pieced together in my mind from various stories. The woman that I knew through words. I keep her alive in my heart by picturing these other people’s memories, and saying all the little things she used to say, like “boating,” or, “tell me when.” But, I still miss my grandma. I regret not getting to know her better – I regret that all I have now is a collection of stories that creates my vision of her. I love my grandma, even though I barely know her.

SOL 14/31

We crept up to the house, and she held the camera. Blue light poured through one of the front windows, lighting up the otherwise dark yard. The light flickered and changed colors. It began doing this frequently. We crept onto the yard. We crept up the walk. We crept up to the bushes. We peered into the window. It was a basketball game, playing on the TV. A lone person, a man was watching the TV. They dared me to walk onto the porch. I crept back to the porch. I crept onto the porch. I crept up to the window.

It was all my two year older female cousins idea. The crept house on the block was the one on the end, and it was obviously built at a different time than the other houses on the block. The other houses looked like typical, suburban houses. The lat one however, was triangular, and very tall. It also had dark, faded wood. One night when my cousin was over, we told her about the house. She insisted we investigate. We went over at night with a camera, and crept around. Then, my cousin dared me to go onto the porch, so I did.

I slowly walked up, and looked into the window to see that the guy was no longer sitting, watching TV. I turned around to tell my cousin and brother that he wasn't there, but they were gone. I saw my cousin bolting towards the house. I turned back around towards the creepy house to see the guy standing right behind me. 

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, staring me down.

"Oh - just - a sleepover…" I stuttered, my heart pounding. 

I ran home after he went back inside.

SOL 13/31

We get higher and higher on the steps, an occasional water droplet falling on me. The park gets lower and lower, step by step, as I walk farther from safety. I can almost see all of the park now - every brightly colored slide, every pool, and every patch of trees. I try to zone out, and not think of where I am walking. Everyone around me seems excited. Are they insane? We finally reached the top of the steps, and I see the opening of the slides.

We are bathed in yellow, warm summer light. I get into line, and wait for my turn. The line creeps forward, and my anxiety grows. Small insect sizes people mill about so far below me. My breathing increases - the seconds tick by agonizingly slow. Only three ahead of me. Now only two. I can hear the roaring water as it descends. The last person slips down into the slide, and falls out of sight. I can't stop staring. The lifeguard signals to me impatiently.I sit down in the mouth of the slide, a small stream of water flowing around. I cross my arms and legs and lay down as I start sliding.

The first bit is just a tunnel, maybe ten feet long - and only steep enough to keep me moving forward. I am paralyzed with fear, and I grit my teeth. The slide upend up and takes a sharp turn down. The first thirty feet is close to vertical. The light surrounds me as I fall once more, and I drop. For several seconds I was barely touching the slide because of the angle of the drop, (At least it felt like that). The next thirty feet my back touches the slide, but I am still practically falling. The last forty feet I slow to a stop, and crash through the pool of water. I get out, my heart pumping. I look back at the slide, and see that wasn't actually nearly as steep as I thought. Whatever. It was still terrifying. But I wanted to do it again.

SOL 12/31

Foot steps and voices echo through the large building, as I walk next to my mom and twin, on the way out of the Cherry Creek movie theatre in the mall. We walk past the blinking, beeping arcade games, the bright chandelier, and a smiling cashier.

"That was an okay movie I guess. I mean, the characters were bad and it was unrealistic, but it kept me guessing, actually." I say, looking over towards my family. My mom looks over to me and says:

"I agree, the whole plot was completely impossible, but I did like Julianna Moore as the free-spirited kind of person. That one bald guy was really good at making faces, you know?"

As she said this, my mind quickly went over the film we had just seen, and I quickly added up the small plot holes that had never been cleared up. Quite a few, to my count. I as myself, why did such quality actors sign up to do a movie that was completely unrealistic? Did the producer even read the script? How hard is it to find a descent script if you're going to spend so much money making it into a movie?

"Juliane Moore, mom, and I thought you didn't like her? also, you're right - the bald guy looked really shady at the beginning, but then, he looked like a good guy."

"Yeah. I don't quite understand how they got that bomb in the cocaine though."

"Huh. Yeah. The acting was good, but the plot was really pretty bad. It just didn't really make any sense in the end. At least the movie was entertaining."

As we approach the exit, my mom looks at me funny for saying the movie was entertaining. She then says:

"That's humanity. A movie is entertaining when there is violence and people die, and there are bombs and plane crashes."

Her statement struck me - it was something that I hadn't thought of before, and also seemed so clearly weird. We enjoy watching bad things happen to other people. What's up with that? I look to my right as we walk out at the movie posters. One was a picture of a huge, flaming volcano that said: "No escape. No hope." Some person had probably come in to the theatre, read the poster, and thought: That looks interesting, I'll go see that. What's weird is that so many people read that poster, and willingly went to see a movie about no escape or hope. In retrospect, that is really, pretty weird. We continue to walk through the mall, past the bustling shops as we head towards the garage. My questions and thoughts buzz around my head.

SOL 11/31

As far as non-fiction books go, Les Stroud's into the wild is among the most exciting. Les Stroud is a kind of survival expert, with the knowledge of how to survive in the harshest of terrains. He takes us through many stories of survival from around the world, explaining how they survived, what went wrong, etc. He uses these stories to give a lesson on how to survive in the wild, in the worst of situations.

This book was a combination of good things. It had interesting, scary, and exciting stories of survival - which is enough to make a good book. Stroud also takes us through their journey of survival and gives tips, and explains how the situation could have been avoided. I came out of the book feeling both satisfied, and happy to have a few ideas of how to survive should the worst happen. Although the book was somewhat graphic in it's content, anyone in the class could enjoy it.

SOL 10/31

I remember we were driving over these hills, which were one of my favorite places to drive around, just because they weren't flat and boring. We were on the way to pick up Alex. I wasn't paying attention when it happened, but for some reason I have a dusting memory of seeing the white van come closer and closer to us. My babysitter didn't stop in time and we rammed the back or an all white, windowless van.

I flew forward. Then I remember my back hurting. Then I remember seeing the bent, smashed front end of the car, steam slowly trickling out. We waited in the car as my babysitter got out to consult the man who was yelling at us. His car wasn't even hurt - ours had a ruined front end. My poor babysitter, (who was from Ecuador) ha to try and calm us down while managing this angry guy - while worrying about the car that was totaled. Finally we turned off quebec and onto eleventh, and drove the rest of the way to logan. We drove through the loop in our totaled car, and picked up my older brother, Alex. On the way back, we went very slowly because a piece of metal was scraping on the ground. Alex started yelling:

"The car's gonna explode! It's gonna explode!"

Probably making the frantic babysitter even more nervous. He wouldn't stop freaking out until we pulled the car over, and walked to a nearby grocery store. We walked around, asking for a ride, until we got one from a nice lady who was from Texas. We got home and everyone was happy. Except our car was totaled, but that six year old me didn't care. It had been an adventure.

SOL 9/31

"We just wanted to… study, or, well… do some math homework, because we're in the same math class…" I said, hoping he would agree.

"Uh - alright. But you have to actually be working - and you have to leave by 5:30."He responded, slightly unsure of his decision.

My spirits rose suddenly and I looked at her, quickly exchanging smiles.

"Okay, I can do that. Definitely." I said confidently, looking back at her dad.

"Well, I'm going to take your brother to basketball. We will be back by 6:30." He said.

They were out the door in the next five minutes, so me and her headed up to her room. We spent the first twenty or thirty minutes with our math text books in front of us, but we only did a few problems. Mostly we were just talking. Talking about our day, or whatever was on our mind. We both were having fun just talking, and spending time together. We both had no plans of me leaving at 5:30.

Time flew by, and 5:30 came all to soon. However, we did not part ways. We walked outside to the park by her house, and waited under a tree as the sun began to set. We talked some more, climbing up the tree, as the clock ticked away. By 6:10 it was almost dark, and we began to wait anxiously. I told my dad (via text) to pick me up just before 6:30 so I would leave before her dad got back, and it would appear as though I had left an hour earlier. 6:15 came and our anxieties grew some, and the sun had gone down. By 6:20, we were on edge - and getting very nervous. I texted my dad that i might tell him to pick me up somewhere else, and that he should watch his phone.

The minutes went by slowly, and we knew her dad could come home any second - it was just only five or six minutes to 6:30. Still, didn't want to separate. Suddenly, her dad's car rushed over to their drive way and pulled in at 6:25. Sarah ran towards the house, probably trying to come up with a reason to be in the park. I turned and ran away down the dark street, attempting to text my dad a new location to pick me up at. However, I was too late. Just a mere minute after her dad pulled in, I saw to my horror my own dad pulling into their driveway, just behind her dad. I sprinted back as fast as I could, hoping we could leave before he noticed. As I got to the car, her dad walked outside, staring at me.

"I thought you were supposed to be home?" He announced.

"Oh, I was walking home-" I protested.

"For an hour?" He said, questioningly.

After an awkward minute or so of scolding me for vein there and talking to my dad, her dad let us go. We drove home, and I explained what had happened.

SOLSC 8/31

"We want to paint the attic." She announced.

We both looked at her, our blank stares turning to curious looks.

"What do you mean?"I asked.

"Well, me and Daniel have some paint and brushes and stuff, and we are going to paint that little attic."

I shrugged, looked at Jason and said: "Okay."

The small set of stairs to the attic above the garage creaked as we swiftly climbed it, carrying all our supplies. Once we climbed through the hatch and into the attic, we layed out the newspapers and opened the paint. The paint was an off white - slightly pinkish in color. The attic had a sloped ceiling, and only reached around four feet high at it's highest. We wetted the brushes, and began to paint - covering large sections of writing and scribbling. There was a small window on the front, and warm afternoon sunlight poured in.

We painted most of the walls before anyone got a lot of paint on them. The boys had taken off their shirts, and it started when Sarah got paint on one of our backs. Then paint dripped on us and on the carpet and we became more careless. it got in our hair, then we started flinging it. We got into an all out fight, dipping our hands in paint and rubbing it off on each other. By the end, the three boys had our whole torso's covered, and were pretty much covered in paint.

That's when the paint started to dry, and we left the attic covered in paint - all our supplies still out. We realized that the paint wasn't coming off, so we snuck around back and got the hose. We sprayed each other with it as the sun began to go down, and we started to realize that the paint fight wasn't such a great idea, and we became worried about if their parents found us covered in paint.. We were dirty, cold, and soaking wet. Their mom must have heard the hose, so she leaned out the window and saw us.

"What the hell is that!" She yelled, and we all realized we were done for.

After a serious scolding to her kids, she called my mom to have us picked up.

I found paint in my hair up to three weeks later.

SOLSC 7/31

The soft swishing noise of metal on ice fills my ears. The cold, frigid air surrounds me. The blood oozes out in droplets, and lands on the hard ice with a small plop.

I was in first or second grade – maybe even kinder garden – I can’t remember anymore. For several years, during the winter, my dad got out our homemade ice rink. It was basically a big tarp with inflatable edges, so that it could hold a few inches of water. We would inflate it, fill it, and let it freeze. In the end, we would have a big ice rink we could walk out onto that was ten steps from the back door. Sometimes we would skate, sometimes play hockey, etc. But after one unfortunate experience on that homemade ice rink, I grew to hate it – and barely skated on it afterwards.

The only problem with the rink was that it became uneven. It had higher and lower spots that were almost to small to see, but were noticeable when skating. It made me lose my balance so much so that the rink was difficult to use for an inexperienced skater like me. The rink could even have small holes, and some of them would have jagged edges. They were basically little holes in the ice full of spikes. That made the rink scary and dangerous.

One night, I was feeling pretty confident with my skating ability. I was cruising along, humming to myself, trying to have fun. I put my hands in my coat pockets, and kept skating along. Then, I hit something – maybe a rough spot or a bump. My feet stopped, and I tipped over. I began to fall straight forward, like a tree falling over. However, I had my hands in my pockets, so I couldn’t stop myself. I saw the small jagged hole as I fell, getting closer and closer. I face planted right onto the hole, and tore apart my lips.

I started bawling, and everyone came rushing over. My lips were totally cut up, and blood was running down my face. My dad picked me up and carried me into the house. They fixed me up pretty well, but it hurt a lot, and I was really scared. It was a lesson learned the hard way: watch for jaggedy ice holes, and keep your hands out of your pockets.

SOLSC 6/31

Bang! Pop! Bright red sparks explode in the warm, black summer sky, and slowly fall back to earth. Boom! White sparks explode and twinkle down into the lake, leaving us breathless. The colors and brightness were amazing, until it happened.

On a vacation in Missouri, me and my family went to a “Black Cat” fireworks stand and bought a ton of fireworks. We bought roman candles and sparklers, and little smoke bomb type things. We waited until night time, and fired them over the lake. There were many great colors, loud bangs, and great firework effects. It was a lot of fun. However, fireworks are deceiving – at fist they seem cool and exciting, loud and bright and colorful – but sometimes they show their true colors. In reality fireworks are just things that burn and explode. I didn’t realize that until too late.

I got out a sparkler from the box, and lit it. It started to burn and sizzle, as it became bright and sparks flew everywhere. I was happy, running around with my exploding torch, until one lonely little spark flew from the sparkler straight into a hole in my crock. It burned my foot, so I kicked and yelled out, and then it stuck in my shoe. I kicked more and hopped around, and wrestled off my shoe. My foot had a burn sore for several days after. Now I know fireworks may look cool, but they hurt when they get stuck in your crock, so you have to be really careful.