Time, Life, and Myself

Adan Jaramillo wrote this during our In-School’s program at Mission High School. It was published in the Mission Magazine Summer Edition 2008, which features Ms. McKamey’s Senior class.

The bells of the church can be heard in the distance, home dry and hot as an oven. This is part of my daily life here in Mexico: my grandma cooking in the kitchen, my grandpa laying on the sofa watching TV, my brother Tono playing in the dirt with me, as I wonder what my mom and dad are doing and when are they coming back. Wishing to have them and my family I dream of, the family we were disappears in the blink of an eye.

7:00am (Noisy alarm)
“Tono shut the alarm! Tono turn it off!” Tono replied, “No! You get up and do it.” I hate getting up so early for school, but not because of the location. It’s pretty close, about two blocks away. It’s nothing compared to where I lived before. I used to get up at this same time. I would rush, leaving early to take the bus and train across the city to get to school. Now having school so close makes me feel like I’m lord of time. I can easily get there early, so it’s ironic that I’m late for school. My mom yells every morning, rushing us, making breakfast for us, yet I don’t know if I should be happy or depressed by having my family back. Dad is sleeping; I don’t think I have seen him awake since two Mondays ago. He is always working, and gets home too late for me to talk to him. Marisol is turning four years old today, and Tono and I have been in Mexico. Actually, I can’t believe that I am already receiving compliments on my writings and pronunciation in English. In this new school year I’m going to put in a lot of effort, and transcend last year’s mistakes.

Crystal light blue lake, the tranquility of the breeze, and powerful sunlight piercing the thick green trees. There is nothing more peaceful at this moment than spending time with your loved one, looking at her straight in the eyes, submerged in our world. At this moment nothing matters, it’s just the boat, the moon, and us. The moon seems to love watching us, as if it takes care of us through day and night. The wind whispers to me, asking me to tell her something; she sighed, hugged my arm and got closer. I think she is right, the way our hands interlace hasn’t been attempted before. Therefore, this means a lot to her. I moisten my lips, inhale air, exhale sharply, and lethal love phrases stab the heart, releasing a new stronger woman that would stay with me.

Good memories are meant to be place on a pedestal where you can easily reach them when you most need them. I keep mine in a chest, and I like to share them with people to show them that they should forget bad memories and keep the good ones to be happy in life. Life isn’t easy, but if you try, you can make it less complicated.

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