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First true love!!! By: anonymous True love is a hard thing to understand yet alone find and feel. To understand sometimes you get hurt, sometimes you just have to forget about it, but once you find true love, you know you two where ment to be, for example to somepeople true love is somebody that can: · Hold a conversation for more then 10 mins. without losing interest in what the pther is talking about. · Comfortably talk to you about anything. · Make you feel safe, protected, like nothing can hurt you at all. (And when you have that feeling you'll never want it tooken away from you.) · Be willing to stand-up and stick up for what you and/or the other believes in and/or feels. · Be willing to take care of the other at any cost. · Be there for you no matter how far away they are. · Just be theyselfs and treat the other with respect and just have a good time with each other. For those who know me good, they know what I went through to find true love.......and for the others if you want to know, I'll tell you so just sit back and listen, some might understand and others that don't understand they will eventually, it just came early with me. One summer day I was hanging out with some of my friends just being reckless and alittle mischevious, but it just so happened that there was this one girl that kept watching us, so I thought to myself..."Just act cool and show-off some." Some how it worked so I ended up asking her out right before she had to go home that night so she gave me her phone number and told me to come by tomarrow, so my friends and I went home and went to bed. The next day I went back over to her house and day after day after day I'd talk with her family and get to know them real good so I was pretty much warming up to them, and the weird part was my girlfriends cousin ended up liking me as well but I was tooken already so I didn't want to be an ass and go behind her back and go out with her cousin. Every second of everyday I spent with my girlfriend, we had gone out for almost a year now, then one day she told me she wasn't gonna be home and not to stop by so I said ok so I hung out with my friend Alex and Jeremy, we just skateboarded and just messed around until late night like around midnight or one o'clock in the morning. Well on the way back I was gonna pass by my girlfriends house because it was right down the street where I lived. Before I could even get around the corner I saw and and I stopped because I saw her with another guy that I didn't know, I knew it wasn't a relative because I met her whole family. So I just waited in the front of her house and just watched to see what happens. A few moments went by and one thing led to another and then they started making-out, I was getting really mad, my friend Jeremy had to hold me back from running over there and kicking that guys ass. Then all of a sudden I see my girlfriends cousin in the window staring at me, it scared me because I didn't realize she was there. But then she opened the window and saw I was mad about something, then my best-friend Alex told her to lean out of the window some more and look. So she did and then really quick she goes back inside the window and she looks worried, well then I asked what the hell was going on? She started to answer but all that came out was......um......, then she started weeping and said sorry for not telling me earlier. Ok here I am wondering what the hell is going on and the she tells me my so called "girlfriend" had been cheating on me for the past eight months. Then she started crying saying sorry and all that I told her it was ok, it wasn't her fault and I gave her a hug and said thanks for telling me, and then I sat down on a landscaping rock in the front of the house, and thats when my face and fingers went all numb. Alex and Jeremy kept trying to cheer me up but it wasn't working, they both knew what was gonna happen next, but before they could do something I was already running straight at the guy, when I got there I grabbed him and threw him to the ground and started beating him up. Then my girlfriend pushes me and says stop it. So I do, and she asks me why am I doing this? And there I am, wondering whats going on with this girls head...."Why am I doing this?" I say with a loud voice, and I just lose it, I told her I never want to see her again and to never ever talk to me ever again and then I just start walking down the road not paying attention to where I'm going at that point I didn't care and I just wanted to think. When I did stop I was at the dirt hills, so I climbed to the top and just laid down stared at the sky and wondered why did she do that, I opened myself up to her and I trusted her with everything, then I realized I had fallen in love with her and I was now another person with a broken heart. Then I just closed my eyes and accidentally fell asleep ( probally because I was crying). When I woke up I went home and took a shower skipped dinner and just slept for a few days. Then my friends Alex, Jeremy, and Sabrina litterally had to drag me out of bed and had to get me skateboarding again becasue thats one of the only things that calm me down when I'm mad. If it wasn't for them I would've never had skateboarded again. Then I told myself I was never gonna open myself up to another person ever again, So I'd never have to go through that pain ever again. Ok now that I have told you the story about how I learned about the meaning of love doesn't mean its the same for everybody, sometimes they don't learn it until later on in they're lives and sometimes people need something tragic to happen to understand the meaning. But that also doesn't mean theres no hope or seconnd chances for people. Some people find true love first time and it stays true the rest of they're lives. Sometimes people that have experienced love for another but something happened and everything went wrong blame it on thereselves. They think they should never try again (like I said in the story I told you), but they should because there are others out there that fell the same way and that could possibly be your first true love. Ok if you don't believe me then let me tell your about my present day relationship, my second chance at love, and to me is my True Love. Ok well one day I had met this beautiful girl, well of course she had a boyfriend what I didn't realize was it was my friends girlfriend. But even though she was my friends girlfriend me and her got to know eachother really good after her and my friend started having some problems. ( I'm not entitles to tell you because I promised I wouldn't tell a soul.).....well anyways she needed somebody to talk to and I was there at the time so I talked to her. I ended up talking to her or 7 or 8 hours. Well when she had to go she asked me if she'd see me tomarrow and I told her yes she would, then she said good night. When I was trying to go to sleep I couldn't I kept thiking about her and I couldn't get her out of my head, thats when I realized I was begining to like her more then a friend. Well the next day I ended up talking to her from the time I wake up until the time I went to bed, the more I learned about her the more I wanted to be with her, then about after a week or two, I wanted to tell her I liked her but I didn't know how to tell her so one day I asked her if she wanted to play 20 questions to find out who we both liked. She said shure so we started asking details and all that, then at the end we found out we both liked each other. I asked her if I could ask her out she said no wait a little bot longer so I did. About amonth later I asked her and she said yes. Well as time went on I began to realize I was falling in love with her deeply, deeply in love. I realized then that she could most likely be my first true love. And the way I feel for her is unable to be put into words. It's amazing and I wouldn't want anything to happen to it becase then I wouldn't be able to live, when I talk to her and hear her laugh it makes me feel good inside and to me thats true love. Even though it feels like true love to me doesn't mean its that way with everybody, everybody has they're own way of expressing it and that. But all I can say is I'm happier then I have ever been in my whole life. __** first Heartbreak Lying on her bed, clutching her legs to her chest she tried to forget. To forget the way he pushed her down and thrusts her wrists above her head. The way he ran his hand so gently over her stomach, smiled sweetly and told her he loved her. She tried to forget the way she squirmed and cried and pleaded with him to stop. And she tried to forget the way he punched her stomach and told her she deserved it, the way he reached down, caressing her hips. and how she tried to scream though he just hit her again and put his hand over her mouth. With tears streaming down her cheeks she felt suffocated, trying to avoid his touch she pulled herself as close to the bed as she could, drawing her stomach in towards her spine. But he paid no attention to her stifled screams and using one hand to hold her wrists he sat astride her, she could barley move and when he moved his hand from her mouth, she was too afraid to cry. He smiled at her and told her how beautiful she looked as he started to undo the buttons on her top, once it was undone he sat there for a minute, watching her before running his tongue across her chest. It was surprising how gentle he was being considering he was using so much force to keep her pinned down, that quickly changed. For a short moment, he loosened his grip but the instant she tried to move his fist laid more bruises on her aching body. 'whats wrong babe? You love me, you want me, I'm doing what's best...i love you' she opened her mouth to speak but was cut off with a sharp blow 'don't cut me off you whore..I was fucking talking'. With this he reached down, much more aggressive than before, undoing the flies on his jeans, and pulling off her underwear. For a while she was too stunned by the pain to realise what was going on, but whilst watching the blood trickle down past her eye, trying to concentrate on staying conscious she suddenly realised. There was a sharp stab of pain as he thrust himself inside her fragile body, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't the perfect scenario she'd wanted to wait for. For 20 minutes the pain got worse, it slightly numbed but he got more and more aggressive, more and more frantic with the way he pushed his body against hers. The tears kept rolling, the blood kept on flowing, the thoughts kept on drowning her until he felt he had complete control, 'I love you' he whispered, pulling away from her, kissing her forehead and zipping up his flies. With that he turned around, walked out the door and left her to coil up, try to forget and cry herself to sleep.The sun was shining brightly through her window on the Monday morning, it had warmed the bed she was still lying in. she woke up, still clutching her knees to her chest, lying on a blood soaked sheet. Aching and sore she tried to sit up; the pain in her stomach was almost unbearable. She sat for a few moments, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Trying to focus around her she was momentarily blinded by the sun, then she managed to gain some perspective of where she was and stumbled over to the mirror. Her face was badly bruised, she had a large cut over her eyebrow that ran just past her bloodshot eye, and her lip was split. Feeling her way along the landing wall she made her way to the bathroom, where she ran a warm bath. Getting in her whole body ached, the water stung like a bitch as it seeped through her open wounds, within seconds the water had turned from crystal clear to murky brown. Gradually her sight began to clear and she saw that her wrists, and inner thighs were badly bruised, the rest of her body wasn't in much better shape, with cuts and bruises scattered in a delicate pattern over it, there was a large graze over her chest and stomach and there was puss seeping from her knee. As she looked over the bathroom walls, which she could now see were covered in her bloody handprints, all she could think was how mad her dad would be she had made such a mess and how her mum was going to moan at her for looking so dreadful. Luckily though, her parents were expected home after she had gone to school. Having spent an hour in the bath, scrubbing her beaten body until it was raw she still felt dirty, no amount of soapy water could take away what happened, no amount of washing could take away the shame she felt. She glanced over to the clock radio, 7:31 she had roughly 45 minutes to get dressed and pack her books for school before going off to meet Hailey. Holding herself up on the rail next to the bath she pulled herself out the water and onto the floor, she felt too tired to stand up and was unsteady on her feet, she felt feint and sick but reached for the nearest towel and slowly walked towards her room. She walked back along the landing, tracing her fingers over the marks she left before, all she could think was how stupid she had been, letting him do that to her, she'd had the chance to scream and ignored it, she'd had the chance to fight but didn't try. Opening the door to her room she felt nauseous, she recalled the way she had taken him through that door so many times, holding his hand and laughing with him, having fun with the boy she loved. How the first time she'd taken him in he'd sat on her bed, picked up her teddy and moved the fur from round its eyes so 'he could see how beautiful she was'. Swallowing hard, she opened her wardrobe doors and pulled out the familiar blue and black uniform, held it close to her and moved towards her bed where she sat down and leaned against one of the four posts. Swallowing again she dropped her towel and gasped as she caught another glimpse of her mutilated body, slipping her underwear on she wondered how she would explain the unmissable abrasions on her face. Stepping into her trousers she started to feel ill again, the touch of something on her skin made her feel helpless and she wished she could curl up and hide again. Putting on her sweatshirt was the worst bit, she felt like she was being suffocated, how she had felt last night when he pressed his heavy body to hers. Telling herself it was ok she concentrated on breathing steadily. Shakily she picked up her bag and walked down the stairs. Stopping briefly at the hall table to pick up the key she caught another look at herself in the mirror. She still didn't know how to explain herself to people; there was no way she was telling them the truth of what happened. It wasn't Tom's fault he had to do it, if she had said yes in the first place he wouldn't have had to force her. She didn't want every one in school to know how pathetic she was for getting so upset over something so trivial, something that happens so often. Telling herself to make up a story on the way to school, she pulled the door to behind her and twisted the key in the lock. Taking a deep breath in, and wiping the sweat from her forehead, she prepared herself for school and walked down the road. __** Throughout the years I have found that my family and upbringing have had a great impact on me. They have influenced my beliefs, actions, motivations and, ultimately, molded my personality. Upon greater self reflection I feel that I can accurately identify the life experiences that have produced my style of leadership, the driving factors behind my motivation, the attitudes that I possess, and the factors that have led to my transformation as a human being. One major force that has shaped my life is the fact that for the first eight years of my life I grew up in Iran. Throughout my childhood, my family and I were in the religious minority in Iran. Being in the minority, I encountered overt discrimination in and out of school. The core curriculum in all of Iran’s schools consists of a class on religion, where every child must spend an hour a day studying the Koran. My parents were forced to enroll me in a specific school in Teheran that provided the opportunity to study other religions. There I felt quite isolated from the other students. I did not share the beliefs, experiences or morality of the majority. I felt that the teachers treated me differently and that the quality of education that I received was not up to par. It is for this reason that to this day, I am extremely sensitive towards the needs of those who are in the minority. Additionally, as a result of this, my parents decided to move to California. I truly believe that by moving to this country my life took a drastic turn. If anyone were to ever ask my parents why they left Iran they would automatically respond by stating that it was for their children. My parents, particularly my father, have always emphasized the need for education, hard work and dedication. My father’s focus was always on providing me with the opportunity for a better life. He saw that access to this opportunity lay in education. It is for this reason that the primary focus in our household was on education and the ability to make right choices. Based on this, I find that to this day I am an extremely focused person. The ultimate goal is my motivation, I am rarely satisfied with keeping things at the status quo level and I always want to accomplish more. Depending on the situation, I can also be very patient and tenacious. In coming to a new country I was forced to acclimate to a new language and culture. By focusing on my education, and by having the ability to choose, I feel that I have succeeded in life. If I were to have grown up in Iran I highly doubt that I would be in the same person that I am today. __**Story 4 There are people who dream, people who follow their dream, and people who give up on their dream. I dreamt once and it was beautiful. But all that seem very far away now. Like a dream. It’s funny. That word “dream.” The nature of the very word suggests its own demise. But we believe it anyway. There was a time that I believed and that is how I know now what it is like to not believe. I grew up and this is what I learned, what I finally woke up to. “Didn’t you ever notice that movies always end in happy, sappy, cliché endings?” Gray asked me once. “Of course, but I like it. People go to movies to have their dreams affirm.” I gaily replied. He looked at me dubiously, “It’s just an escape, an illusion. In real life, people’s lives fizzle out and go stale.” “I don’t know. I’d like to think that it’s not.” That was me three years ago. Just three years. It doesn’t seem all that long, but it feels like a life time. Sometimes I can’t seem to see beyond a foggy day, I can’t remember anymore what it’s like when it is not like this. Sometimes I believe the sunny days are just illusions, figments of that cruel thing called hope. No, but I do remember what it was like. That is how life is. You remember the things you want to forget and you forget the things you want to remember. I can’t stop mourning over the grave of my past; and my damned memories, they keep haunting me, taunting me with old wishes and old hopes. Do you remember what it was like to feel safe? Do you remember how everything moved you and filled you with a tingling sensation of happiness? Oh yes, happiness. Do you remember what it was like to fall in love? What it was like to melt into another’s flesh? Do you remember how a name, just a name, can tear you to pieces and put you back together anew? I am to pieces now and nothing to put me back anew. What’s the reason to put salt on my wounds? I cannot forgive if I cannot forget. I shall never, never, never forgive the world for this. I bit my lip hard to stop the tears from flowing and tried to focus on something else. I could feel the cold, damp earth beneath my arms and neck. Above, the leaves rustle as the wind blows. The sweet greenness wavers against a deep gray sky. A few tiny yellow stars drift slowly down to my face. I close my eyes against the bitter swelling of regrets, acquiescing to the reverie of something once lost. Everything seems so quiet, and those leaves, they keep drifting down and down. I could hear a voice far away and feel a light breathing next to my face. A soft arm was under my neck. The voice became clearer. They’re soft whispers, those murmurs of promises of a life forever in happiness. “We will be happy, I swear,” he murmured, “the happiest couple in this world.” “And you will love me still when I grow old and ugly?” I asked. “Of course, I’d love you more.” I giggled at that. I wanted to run away with him, away from all of the world. But could we make it? Could we really make it? Breaking a peaceful silence, I asked, “What are we going to do when I have to leave?” “I don’t know. What do you want to do?” “I want to break up with Gray. God, our relationship is like a tortured monster that needs to be put out of its misery. I think its end was long overdue.” “Why did you stay with him for so long anyways?” “I don’t know. I think I was afraid.” “To be alone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Yeah, something like that.” He gave a thoughtful smile. I always melted when I see him smile that smile of his. “I love you,” I blurted out and immediately realized my error as I quickly covered my mouth in embarrassment. When I see his smile, I seemed to lose all ability to function and I say things without thinking, especially things I felt but I did not want him to know yet. We barely knew each other so the I love you’s always seemed so out of place; and yet they were the only appropriate words we knew for the excitement we felt. The days we spent together that summer were always in that giddy, dazzling excitement. We were like too drunks who did not know where we were going and did not care as long as it was together.I felt then that all my dreams had come true. It was the one thing I prayed for since girlhood. I wanted to fall in love and love came at last. When summer ended and the university resumed, I had to return to school, which was, five hundred miles away from him. Our goodbye, nevertheless, was hopeful. We read Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet together on our last night, reciting the secret promise of our re-union. Several days after school began, I callously broke up with Gray and threw out our two year relationship as if it was yesterday’s news. I didn’t even feel pity, pain, or remorse. All I could see in front of me was love and the past didn't matter. I was so taken by him, so madly in love, so lost of all control. I took no caution because it was love, it was the thing everybody wanted, the thing that was ultimate happiness. Yet, despite our happiness, the days of fighting came. Those were the days when I felt the most agonizing pain of my life. The I love you’s that once bursted out of me as if overflowing from an overfilled reservoir of affection now became distressing cries of desperation. They were saying, please, please, let this be real, let this be something that lasts. If love fails what else is there for me to believe? Oh God, please. But the heaven was silent and so was he. That was the way he hurt me. That was his weapon of choice. He would turn his body away from mine, recoiling from my touch and my apologies. He turned deaf and mute. And after several attempts at begging and soothing, I would finally give up and carried my pent up rage elsewhere alone. My preferred hiding place, one that I resorted to since childhood, was the bathroom. It’s where, suddenly, I could let it all out, let my feelings burst out of its protective shell. I sat on that cold floor and leaned my head on the hard door. There tears well up and flow down my cheeks. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, tingling down all the nerves of my body as it shudders uncontrollably. Oh how I hate the world for its trick, its cheap, cheap trick! And so this was love. So this was what it was all about. We were a world torn asunder. We were the loneliest creatures to ever crawl the earth. And yet we tried to survive it all. We hug and made up and carried on like it was something small, something insignificant and can be fixed. We cling on to our dreams with all our strength, "boat against the current." In life it seems nothing is for certain, nothing true or real. There is only faith in our dreams. I've met many people who do not believe and their lives are full of fear and bitterness because they cannot feel. They cling on to logic as if the mind can solve all problems, unfurl all truths, banish all feelings. But logic too is only a figment of the imagination. I choose a life more complicated and more painful because I believe some dreams do come true and even if mine doesn't, all the struggles to obtain it are still worth it. __**Story 5 My life changed when I found my Yang. Well, the truth of the matter is that the above statement would be absolutely true if I had truly and completely found my Yang. In actuality Yang made effort to find me right about the same time I was discovering Yang. Yang first came to me in one of my day dreams in the form of a girl. To be more accurate I believe Yang has been with me all my life in one shape and another, but I am talking about the first time I really began to realize Yang existed. Looking back now, I can see that Yang has been right alongside me all my life, and ironically enough I’m convinced that Yang was just as clueless about me as I was about Yang. When I was a child Yang would often visit me as my pet cat and I would spend long hours admiring Yang’s soft fur, her long tail, her sometimes slit-like eyes, her sharp teeth, and just about everything that I figured Yang represented. In fact Yang and I had a very symbiotic and respectable relationship; I would play with her for fun or pet her until her eyes rolled back into submission, and she would provide me with company. Some days I would completely lose myself to Yang and imagine that I was Yang, I would chase birds or butterflies or anything that distracted me from my other priorities and I would lay on the warm carpet in front of a window so that the sliver of sunlight shone in just right and warmed my mid-day nap, and then I would wake up and wonder if Yang was off somewhere dreaming she was something else. And then there was a squirrel who spoke to me and with a flick of its tail gave me grand, inspirational, and world moving advice without so much as a glance in my direction. But I knew the squirrel was there, some hundred feet ahead of where I sat, and I guessed that Yang knew I was there too. In the square where I sat on the edge of a concrete wall there were cement paths followed by little squares of green grass with one tree placed in the center of each patch and then there was Yang scurrying around and stopping and gathering and chewing and looking like it was at peace with the universe yet somehow very antiquated sitting on the clean cut nicely edged tuft of grass with busy feet scurrying all around on their squares of concrete on each of the four sides of Yang’s little place. Yang found itself in my hand one day as I gathered up a smooth rock to skip across a couple meters of my side of a lake well into the afternoon when the sky was beginning to turn, and in turn the lake decided that sky looking down should be just as lucky as us looking up and shone the brilliance straight upward. I suppose I would still be wondering if it wasn’t the other way around if I hadn’t had found Yang and decided to give it a good spin towards the water. After all what good was Yang in my hand for more than a moment if that’s all it took to take up Yang’s smoothness and roundness and cool hard feel into my memory and thoughts. So I chucked Yang back and the lake laughed which made the sky turn darker. But the lake and the sky shared their relationship on into the night tossing stars back and forth and I watched them glimmer in the darkness until I couldn’t remember which side was up or down. But what I meant to recall was the first time that I realized I had actually met Yang. It was the first thing I noticed, she was everything I wasn’t. And I suppose the physicality of the whole thing helped to make it rather obvious, but I really mean everything. Now, Yang made me think quite a bit, not that she asked me to think or that there wasn’t any way around it, I suppose it was more of a curiosity than anything else. So there Yang was and I was baffled by the meaning of it all. I don’t even know why I thought there was some meaning, but it sounded good. So I kept gathering these ideas and throwing them into a jar and one day the jar got all mixed up, I forgot if I fell down a flight of stairs or if I was doing some jumping jacks, but whatever the case the jar ended up on the ground in front of me broken to bits, which didn’t even occur to me at the time because my ideas were all lined up. Funny enough Yang and I had left each others’ lives long before, but I bet she’d be glad to know there was a smile planted on my face the rest of that day. I sometimes wonder if I knew that Yang was there when I was barely crawling and peering around with delight for the first times in my life that it actually mattered to me. I imagine that in those purely abstract days I might have had more inclination than I’ve had before. I often forget Yang is with me at all times, and when I do remember it’s sometimes tough to decipher how real Yang really is or how much of Yang is just a meme that had become planted in my head. But when I believe in Yang I know Yang believes in me and discovering that is always as exciting as it was the first time. __**Story 6**__ Mi Vida Nueva The summer after my Junior year of college I participated in an Education Abroad program in Morelia, Mexico. I had taken four years of Spanish in high school and had taken a "refresher" class the summer prior to my trip. Even with all of my schooling, speaking Spanish 24x7 was a scary thought. More than that, I had never lived more than an hour from my parents and Mexico was definitely beyond that! It took me three years to gather the courage to apply for the program, but I knew it was the only way to obtain my goal of fluency. When I arrived in Morelia I met the other American students enrolled in the program and was assigned to a local family. My Mexican family consisted of a mother, daughter, and son. They were very kind and patient with me as my language skills improved. I attended four classes, four days a week, for three months. Classes included Mexican history, Mexican literature, Mexican culture, and grammar. The professors spoke only Spanish and we wrote three essays a week! One professor had a deep bellowing voice that echoed off the classroom walls. He also spoke at a very quick pace. In the first weeks of school I had trouble understanding this teacher in particular. The program was incredibly challenging and rewarding at the same time. By the end of the program I had become fluent in Spanish and could even understand my bellowing professor. I had become very close with my Mexican family and had made some lasting friendships. One of my biggest gains was an increased self-confidence. I now know that I can accomplish my dreams //on my own//. __** At 10:29pm on June 7, 1987, an event occurred, which at the time, I could not begin to realize how profoundly my life would change. In fact, I am still learning how much the birth of my daughter continues to alter and affect my life. It was with great anticipation and desire that I awaited the birth of my daughter. I did not know the sex prior to her birth and I remember how excited I was to finally find out whether I would have a son or a daughter. Simply the sex of your child created a great deal of change and anticipation. I believe even though we want the best for our children, we do treat boys and girls differently. For me, one such profound and memorable life altering moment, which is etched in my mind, occurred with my daughter in of all places the grocery store. Perhaps, if I had had a son, this life altering moment may not have occurred but because I had a daughter id did. Natalie and I were waiting in a rather disorganized line at the deli counter. She was almost four weeks old and I was just starting to take her out with me or errands and what not. We had been waiting for about ten minutes and we were the next people in line. I noticed two elderly women walk up to the counter. Shortly thereafter the clerk yelled, “Who’s next?” The two elderly women said we are and proceed to cut in from of Natalie and me. In the past I would have ignored their indiscretion, kept my mouth shut and not spoken up for myself. But, I thought I should not allow people to take advantage of me! More importantly I realized that I was a mom and my daughter would be looking to me for answers and modeling my behavior!!! I very politely went up to the women and looked directly in their eyes and sid, “excuse me but I was next.” For me, these event in the market, created a defining moment and a life altering event. Although the events only lasted a few minutes, I realized that I was a mother and always would be. My daughter would need me to teach her life-lessons. Provide answers and would look to me for support. I was her mother and for ever more a parent. By politely asserting myself I took what was rightfully mine and modeled the type of behavior I would want my daughter to have.
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 * By Jennifer Kays
 * __Story 7

The Night He Got His First Car: By Anonymous
 * STORY 8::::::;**

It was a rainy night. But that didn’t deter Roy; he had his driver‘s license, and a new car. Well, not new. It was several years old, but he had just bought it that morning. He had been saving his money for months, getting up before dawn to put in extra hours at a neighbor’s farm before going to school. His family didn’t have a lot of money, certainly not enough to afford a second car, and since his Dad’s job required him to drive to several customers’ businesses every day and many evenings, Roy almost never got to use the family car.

But those days were over -- Roy was mobile! He could drive to school. No more school bus. Drive into town whenever he wanted. Meet up with his buddies at Krusty’s pizza joint anytime, without having to rely on bumming a ride. And most importantly, take his girl-friend Debby out properly. Double-dating with his best friend Jimmy was ok, but some-times you just want to cruise, alone with your girl. And parking down at the lake was going to be a lot more fun without Jimmy and his girl in the front seat. But tonight was the school’s homecoming dance; he and Jimmy were taking their girls, and it was finally Roy’s turn at the wheel. Man, it felt good. First, he had picked up Debby, and she just loved his new car. Especially the full-length bench seat in the front. No bucket seats to keep them apart, she could slide right over next to Roy. Then they swung by Jimmy’s house. He jumped into the front seat and they headed over to pick up his date. It was a small town, only one stop light. The streets that crossed Main Street were all 2-way stops; cars driving down Main Street didn’t have to stop, except at the stop light. Maybe the storm made the night darker, and the other driver didn’t see the stop sign. Maybe he wasn’t from around there and didn’t know that Main Street had the right of way. Roy had seen the car coming from his right, but assumed, of course, that he would stop. In fact, Roy stepped on the gas a little to get by the cross street quicker so the other driver could proceed. But the other car didn’t stop! All of a sudden it was right in front of Roy. The three kids screamed. Roy tried braking, but he was going too fast. He didn’t want to broadside the other car, so he cranked the wheel to the right as hard as he could. His car skidded sideways across the rain-slicked road. He managed to avoid the other car, sliding right behind it, but then his car hit the curb on the other side of the street. This caused it to rollover. Debby and Jimmy fell against Roy, crushing him against the driver’s door. Glass shattered, metal crunched. The car was upside down, then they were all thrown against the passenger door, and then they were all sitting upright in their original positions. The car had done one complete roll and came to rest on all four wheels again. The roof was crushed, all the glass was broken out, and the doors were dented. But that wasn’t important now. Was anyone hurt? Roy’s ribs hurt bad, but he wasn’t bleeding. Debby said she was ok. She was protected by being squeezed between the two guys, so she wasn’t thrown around too much. But Jimmy’s left arm had been stretched across the top of the bench seat. When the car rolled over on the driver’s side his hand had been thrust out the window and crushed. His wrist was bent at an awkward angle, probably broken, and there was a lot of blood on his fingers. An ambulance came, and the boys were taken to the hospital. Roy had broken a couple ribs. Jimmy’s wrist was broken. But the worst news was about his fingers. They had been badly crushed and nearly severed. They couldn’t be saved. His middle, ring, and pinky fingers had to be amputated. Roy’s ribs would heal; Jimmy’s wrist would heal. But Jimmy would never again have 5 fingers on his left hand. And Roy would live his life knowing that he was responsible for permanently maiming his best friend. He would always wonder if he was going too fast, if he was careful enough that rainy night, if a more experienced driver would have anticipated the potential problem. He knew that Jimmy paid the price for Roy’s mistake, for his inexperience and exuberance the night he got his first car.