My dad has always told me, “Choose your friends wisely, for there are very few true friends.” I never believed him until I got to middle school, more specifically the 8th grade. The saying my father had said my whole life became more evident. I began to see how people I’ve known since elementary school would start to choose paths. I don’t have a specific example but let’s just say that some would stay in the right path and others would start to derail to a not so pleasant path. A few years ago my father told me a story about his friend who, sadly, did not choose the right path.
In 1981, Mexico City, my father had just started 1st grade at a new school and if you don’t know anything about the school system in Mexico, just know that public schools are pretty much the worst option to choose. Because of this, many people send their children to private schools and that means that people that go to your school come from all over the city. Thus my dad did not know anybody there, and had a bit of trouble making friends but soon became friends with a boy who would help him with his homework named Felix. He was a very courteous and intelligent boy who became his best friend and they both became the top students throughout Elementary and Middle school. Later on they met this boy in middle school named Luis-Alfredo who also became a close friend. In High school, they were still friends but Felix began to distance himself from the group. He started to hang out with the popular crowd, who were only his friends because he was one of the only people who had a car at the time. They took him to parties where they had drugs and alcohol which he eventually got hooked on. My dad and Luis-alfredo tried very hard to persuade him to stop hanging out with the wrong crowd but he never took them seriously and continued going to the parties and consuming drugs. A few months later, Felix’s mother, who had an alcohol abuse problem was diagnosed with paranoia and schizophrenia and, unfortunately, committed suicide. This sent Felix over the edge and made his addiction even worse and a year later was also diagnosed with the same diseases as his mother. He tried to take his own life as well, fortunately Luis-Alfredo had gotten there in time and was able to stop him. He tried to get on the wright path, but eventually went back to drugs. His addiction had grown to the point where he spent all of his money and would ask to borrow money in order to keep up with his debt. He then sold drugs to pay it off but would still owe since he would consume his own merchandise. This made him isolated from everyone, especially the people that actually cared about him. He would rarely talk to my dad and Luis-Alfredo and would only ask to borrow money. One day his provider got angry at him for his debt and for using the drugs himself, he ultimately had him cut out of the picture. A year later Luis-Alfredo found out and notified my dad of Felix’s death. When my father told me this story, it gave me a new perspective because it is truly sad how a person’s life can change in a second for the better, or in this case, worse just by the people they have in their lives. It also made me more cautious of who I acquaint with and I hope that it helps other people to be cautious and keep an open eye for the people who actually care about them By: Luis Ponce - 10th grade
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Eyes closed, she stepped out of the car, placing her bare foot on the the wet grass, feeling the earth between her little toes and the breeze against the soft face. She breathed in the fresh air, the essence of everything around her coming together at once. One short moment that lasts a lifetime. As she opened her eyes for the first time, in the place that she had been many times before, she finally felt at ease, seeing and feeling the memories of previous years.
The place of music, as they called it, a place of letting go, the only place she could truly be herself, Suwannee Music Park. Though a simple title, it is filled will so much meaning and promise to every single person that comes and goes. She ran the grounds she already knew, and felt free, as if nothing could break her spirit. She explored the unknown, filled with hanging tree moss and breathtaking live oak that scattered the park. The way the mystical energy flowed through her as she looked around, causing her to erupt in complete and utter happiness, a feeling she rarely experiences, constant for these few fateful days. They set up the campsite in a specific way, a way that enabled the center to become a stage for passion and hope, the center of a group that housed a hundred people, all sharing that same love of music. They were called the Terrapin Travelers. A sight to see, they were, as everyone danced and jammed among the campfire, that lit the souls of every person singing along to the rhythm of the dead. Everything was set, and everyone had arrived, so she and her friends decided to take a ride. The breeze blew through her long blonde hair and the flowers atop her head, as she rode through the trees on that old flower-filled golf cart she adored. They flew past the bra and underwear tree and the tree covered in unmatchable shoes to get to that tainted bridge atop the suwannee river. The graffiti covered bridge, that become a landscape of art for all to paint and see. They set up a spot mid-bridge and admired the artwork beneath their feet and the sky above their heads, while listening to the tunes of the day and talking like best friends should. That was what they were to each other, best friends, even if they only saw each other a couple times a year. It was a great friendship that all five knew would last a lifetime. As night fell, the music started, and the energy grew wild. She danced, she danced with the spirits and the souls of everything around her. The music, pulsating through her entire body, lets her truly lose herself, dancing, swaying, letting go of all her troubles. She dances, thought to be insane by those who couldn’t hear the music, by those who weren’t really listening. The way the sounds of each instrument flew straight through her, was indescribable. You could see how each note and lyric hit her perfectly, how she was consciously unconscious, losing all her senses to the artists belting their hearts out. She lived like a lotus in muddy water, for the few days she could, wishing, hoping, dreaming to float in that muddy stream for the rest of her days, and although she couldn’t always act like herself, she knew who she was. A flower child with a rock and roll heart. By: Madeline Powers - 10th grade |
Madeline PowersI am a NC sophomore, with a passion for writing and photography. I plan to study at NYU and get a degree in journalism. I hope to one day become a travel journalist. Archives
March 2018
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