A Child Called "It" Cause/Effect

 Author's Note: This writing piece is reflecting on the book, A Child Called "It", cause and effect.  The book is written by, Dave Pelzer, who happens to be a fanominal author.  I would recommend this book to anyone, in the end no matter if you relate to the child or not, it makes you notice how lucky you truly are.  

Through the adventure of reading, A Child Called "It", you will cry and feel the pain of the poor abused boy and I promise you will want to jump right into the book and help the poor boy.  Dave goes through abuse from his always intoxicated mother.  Some ways she abused him in the story are by, putting his body on the stove and burning it, making him eat inedible objects, stabbing him with a knife, and some other extremely irresponsible methods. The abuse method I chose as my cause is, when she locked her son into a bathroom full of toxic cleaning materials, for a very long period of time.

The major effect was, Dave becoming nauseated.  Dave also started to get a headache and his vision blurred but, he didn't die, unfortunately because, his mother got aggravated and found even more abusive ways.  If this cause hadn't occurred during the story would change a lot.  His mother would not have done tried the method a second time.  The school's administration would not have questioned him as much.  The doctor wouldn't have expected abuse as well and most importantly he would not have had as many struggles in life.

Richard

Author’s Note:  This is a personal narrative.  I wrote about this specific familiarity because, I felt that since, I was the person that made everything happen, I could easily write about the occurrence, with vivid language and voice.

"Oh my gosh, Allison you saved our butts, thanks," those were the first nine words that flowed from my mouth after I had one of  spookiest experiences of my life.  I'm sure for at least one of my other three dorm mates, it was the most alarming encounter of their lives too.  Or maybe even the teenager from the dorm neighboring ours, that was breaking one of the rules by being there (since, you had to be in your own room by eleven and it was twelve).  It may have been my fault but, I didn't influence myself to make the lousy decision of screaming out the window to a person out on a leisurely stroll.  Which was also another rule broken, this time by me.  It had all started with a biker.  

"Molly, Molly, come quick, there's a biker outside our window," Jenna screeched to Molly.  As Molly was rushing into our dorm, Jenna just couldn't contain herself and had to bellow, "Hi biker dude," to the innocent man.  "I like your bike," Molly added.  Jenna went on, "I like your helmet."  Once again Molly just had to compete, "I like your shirt."  Jenna had to win the battle ending with, well let's just stop straightaway.  As soon as Jenna and Molly finished telling Allison and I their hysterical story, I thought to myself, that’s it, there will be no more rule breaking for anyone in my room.  Turns out it wasn't the end.  That afternoon after wishing and hoping the biker dude would come back, I was peering out the window and spotted a man or woman.  It was too dark that I couldn't quite tell what the persons' gender was.  The next words that I shrieked were almost uncontrollable and at the time seemed not harming, "HI RICHARD!" Richard was the name we gave the biker. Abby quickly added, "DUCK FACE," with a giggle.  I knew something was wrong when the undetermined man or woman stopped and slowly walked backwards.  So that, he or she was no longer blocked by a tree that would potentially be in the way of his or her flashlight beam.  "HIT THE FLOOR," I screamed at the top of my lungs.  

            When fifteen seconds had passed, we assumed the citizen was gone.  We had some quick choices to make, everyone in their head knew but, didn't say aloud, the security guard would be knocking on our door at any second.  Immediately Allison ordered someone, anyone, to shut the shades.  Afterward we turned off all of the lights.  As I chucked the sleeping bag over my whole body, I stopped breathing, was that?  Oh no!  Yes it is, the elevators' ding.  Within a literal five seconds, there was knocking at our door.  Abby practically flew to a hiding place.  We all laid silently, not moving a muscle.  Maybe he'll go away, that was not the case.  Allison tripped into a suitcase on her way to bravely peer out the peep hole, what she saw was, atrocious, the master key was half way into the key hole, Allison pushed the door open.  "Sorry I tripped over a suitcase," Allison offered.  Getting his job done he causally questioned, "Was there any yelling out your windows tonight girls?"  "No, we were just eating," Allison courageously admitted, not even lying, we were truly snacking.  The following question came out of nowhere, “Was there anyone else in your room within the past ten minutes?”  “No,” Allison fibbed but, we all silently vowed to make up for it as soon as the man left.  “You girls look fine to me, sorry to scare you,” the manager said in a somewhat annoyed voice.  All of us almost in unison claimed, “Oh it’s fine.” He left with a slam of a door and we all let out the breathes we’d been holding since, we apprehended the elevators’ ding. 

            No one spoke up.  If we happened to be loud enough for our dance coach to hear us, (the windows were open because, there was no air-conditioning in any of the dorms and our coach was rooming in the dorm directly to the left of ours) we wouldn’t be able to perform tomorrow at evaluations.  As soon as the manager checked all the rooms on our level and was on floor six, Abby quickly skedaddled to her room with Jenna on her heels.  Everyone got so, frustrated with Jenna, for breaking another regulation but, the disturbance was banished by the fact that we had just created a huge dilemma with the manager of this building.   I was the first person to break the silence with my unstoppable hyperventilating.  With Molly close to tears she recommended praying which, we all decided was a marvelous idea but, once our prayer was over our nerves were still tense.  Molly then called her dad and told him our whole predicament and asked for advice.  I couldn't acknowledge his wisdom at the time because, of my fright.  Molly hung up and we all started whispering about what just happened and attempted to find a loop hole.  Just then we heard a soft pound on the door, Allison tip-toed to the door and took a peek out of the peep hole.  Had we not heard the elevators coming back down from the sixth floor?  Jenna came in cracking herself up at our faces, not cool Jenna.  Now Jenna gave her opinions on the situation.  After Jenna finished, I blurted, “What if the manager comes back?”  That’s when I started to go out of my way to scare the poor manager away.  After an hour or two of me trying to analyse the best way to scare the manager and get him off our case.  I had heard enough what ifs. and announced, “We should all just go to bed.”  With that everyone said, their goodnights and dozed into a short rest. 

            It had all started with a biker.  The shaky voiced conversations and the nail biting stopped later that night I happened to overhear screaming, Jenna rushed to tell the security guard and also ask for some more toilet paper.  That assured that the manager was off our case.  From then and on nothing could have been better, we got to perform the next day in the dance recital and our dance coach wasn't upset or furious with us.  I can’t wait until High School reunion, when we all look back and laugh at this perfect memory.

Perfect Conflict/Resolution

Author's Note: This writing piece, is reflecting on, Perfects', conflict and resolution.  The book is written by Natasha Friend, and I would recommend the book to girls especially if you know someone with an eating disorder, which is what the whole book is about, it has a lot of wonderful tips to overcome eating disorders, finding the right kind of help, loving yourself once again, and helping others.  

In the novel, Perfect by Natasha Friend, the main character's name is, Isabelle.  Isabelle has an eating disorder which is called bulimia.  When Isabelle's sister ('Ape Face'), tells their mother that Isabelle was throwing up in the toilet after dinner, her mother immediately enrolls her for a special therapy class.  This is the main conflict.  Analyzing the conflict, bulimia is a serious thing, a few minor effects would include depression, fear of gaining weight, anxiety, dizziness, shame, and low self-esteem.  Bulimia is very serious, and until 'Ape Face' told on her, no one had even the slightness clue this is what she was up to, which I feel is very sad.  

            The resolution would be that Isabelle goes to the class and  the therapy class,which just happens to have Ashley Burnum in it, the most popular girl in school.  Once they bond through the class, Isabelle is being invited to have lunch with her and sleepover at her house.  Isabelle eats lunch with her and sleepovers at her house, and becomes best friends with her but, is starting to get grossed out with her always puking after they eat, which pushes Isabelle to stop being bulimic.  She tries to get Ashley to stop but, she won't and that ends their friendship.  Afterwards Isabelle didn't feel like she was losing anything but, she did feel bad that she couldn't help Ashley.  

Patricia Reilly Giff's pictures of hollis woods

Author's Note: I wrote this retelling piece about Patricia Reilly Giff's drama, picture of hollis woods. 

All a foster child wants is to find a home. In Pictures of Hollis Woods, the main character is an orphan and has been paired with many unsuccessful foster families.  She finally finds someone that she wants to stay with, but a problem surfaces -- her guardian is losing her mind.  With reoccurring flashbacks of a past family and her new life falling apart, she starts questioning her decisions.  In the end, she learns that doing what's right can lead her to her ultimate goal -- finding a family.  

Trapped

Trapped

Author's Note:  Dreams can sometimes feel like reality, you know the feeling, just like Veronica, the main character in my writing piece.  She had a crazy dream, a really crazy dream, you should know that feeling too.  I just want to let everyone know they can control their own dreams through this writing piece.  

           If only my father hadn't left after my mother’s death.  I could say what I want to say again and look like the seventeen year old I am.  I could be in control of my dreams.  It’s tough to think that it was two years ago today that I could say what I wanted and look my age. 

 Two years ago today my mother went from alive and kicking to late, how?  Well, no one knows.  That may be a lie though, someone may know, and that someone is my dad who I haven’t seen since, the morning of my mother’s passing.  My godmother and I will not give up, we are searching around the world for him.  There’s one other thing, my mother’s words are stopping us from continuing our search for my father.  My soul is trapped in my mother’s body and I can only write my voice and my godmother is the only one who can see my voice, no one else.

                 When my godmother took over my life one year and three hundred and sixty-four days ago we started our search for my dad and we have still yet to find him.  We’ve searched the whole country of North America in two years.  The only thing that is stopping my godmother and I from continuing our search is my mother’s mouth.  Once we get to Asia, we are going to be forced to find another way to locate my father because, my mother asks,  “What are the directions back to Georgia?”  Which is where we used to live and we can’t get the directions if that’s all either of us can speak.   My godmother must leave me behind and continue the search after we get to Asia.  She’ll leave me and come back to me with my father hopefully but, if not she will be coming back to me to get on a boat to travel to the next country. 

                 Within two long days of sea-sickness we arrive in Asia and with no time to waste my godmother, leaves me behind in a little cottage that has been abandoned for years sales clerk mentioned after I bought my food and water for the week with the money my father left behind for me.  The days seemed like weeks, I’d just stare out the window and watch the children play outside.  I wasn’t hungry and my food grew moldy but, I never left the window to clean it up.  I couldn’t sleep either, and what seemed like the fiftieth day of being stranded inside the little cottage, I fell asleep.  I don’t know how long I was asleep but, when I awoke it was because, of a nightmare, a nightmare where my godmother found my father but, never made it back the abandoned cottage.  I awoke in the night and I walked straight out of the semi-creepy home and through the town and I kept walking and walking and didn’t stop till I ran into a man, an older man, that looked a lot like someone I knew.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on who this old man was.

                 My father, that’s who he is.  Where’s my godmother?  Right then, I saw her.  She looked different, she had numerous wrinkles that she hadn’t had before.  She had a cane with her but, a smile on her face.  I asked my father, “Where are the directions back to Georgia?”  He answered back in a deep sad tone, “You can’t.”  I can’t be the girl I am, I can’t be the seventeen year old I am and I can’t say what I want to say ever again.  I have to look like my mother and say what my mother wants?  I started to hear screaming, that seems to come out of me and then it grew louder and louder and everything got fuzzy.  I felt something in my hand, a pillow and something over my body, a blanket.  I sat up and looked around the room, my bedroom.  I was dreaming?  My mother walked into my bedroom and sat on the foot of my bed.  “Honey I’m deeply sorry that you have to have these insane dreams,” she said.  “These insane dreams,” I asked with a questionable tone.  “Yes, everyone has crazy dreams but, remember, they’re your dreams that you can control.”

                

                 You can control your dreams.  I can be the seventeen year old I am and say what I want.

Real or NOT REAL

Author's Note: For this writing piece I took Mrs. Mundt's advice of trying to write about the fiction fact.  I would assume that this would be the harder choice but, it was quite easy and the fiction fact was easy to trick my best friends on too but, a general fact best friend should acknowledge.  Even, after I said it was fiction, my friend goes, "Oh I know that".  Tricky tricky me.  

Just like daughters relate to their mother and sons relate to their father.  My mom relates to my grandma, my grandpa gave my mom her middle name in relationship to my grandmother's name.  To clarify my grandmother's name is Michelle and my mom's middle name is Michelle.  My great grandmother's maddened name was Michelle.  What a pretty name my great grandmother thought.
She wanted my grandma, her daughter,  to always remember her father, her husband.
Her father became very ill in between the nine months and before my grandma was born her father was on the verge of death, sadly, and my great grandmother decided to name her daughter Michelle for her memory as well, as my grandmothers.  I agree that it didn't make much sense that my great grandmother wanted my grandma to remember her father and then named her Michelle, her maddened name, but, in the long run it made sense to her.  Back to my grandmother.  To this day my grandmother wouldn't care if I called her, Michelle, she's positively not self-centered but, she loves the name, and people support her.  I support her, I never call her Michelle but, I agree that it's a beautiful name.
I've asked my mom why she named me Emma instead of Michelle but, she never has an answer.  My grandma does though.  The only two and two I could put together since, we had a little conversation when my mom went out for groceries, is that when my grandma was little she was the girl in the grade that everyone was jealous of, and my mom didn't like that.  My grandma had no friends because, everyone was jealous of her and my mom didn't like that.  My mom is thankful for her middle name because, she constantly gets compliments.  But, my mom didn't want me to be that girl in school.  Even if she gave me Michelle as a middle name she said it just didn't fit.  Emma Michelle, Emma Jane.

Summer Schedule

Author's Note: My summer schedule should surprise someone special.

My mom’s calendar can’t even manage half of my family's summer schedule.  Although, I have to take blame for a majority of it with my three summer camps, Dance Camp, Leadership Camp, and Volleyball Camp.  And with the time I have left, I’ll hang with friends, hopefully go to Six Flags, shopping, performing at our annual guitar concert, getting some more volunteer work in, going skating, eating a bit of junk food, tanning not burning, heading to the pool to go swimming, luckily finding a summer lover, chillaxing, running through the sprinkler, having water balloon fights, start wearing the really short shorts and strapless shirts with huge sunglasses, visiting my grandparents, cheer practice, babysitting, staying up late at night, and some surprise family pop-ups.