The Holocaust Story

I had never known what the holocaust was until I was nine. I never really cared about Jewish people. Where I lived in New York, was highly populated with Jews. My friends often joke about their weird beard and their long coats. They often parked wrong, their children will run across the street and they were always Jay walking. Kids will scream out "Hitler" when the bus passed the Jewish streets.

"Who's Hitler" I once asked.

"Some old guy that hated Jews" said one of the kids

I was interested into finding who Hitler was. I don't really remember how I found out about him and the Holocaust, but when I did, I felt really bad about myself. I got more interested into the Holocaust and asked some of my teachers. Unfortunately, half of my teachers were Jews, so I didn't feel comfortable to talk to them about it. I started to ask my sister questions. She had gone to the Holocaust Memorial Museum. She told me that some kid fainted when he saw the pictures. I got scared and never searched it. I eventually learned about Anne Frank when I was watching Freedom Writers. I taught that the kids made fun of them because they were young and didn't know.

When I went to Haiti, I was surprised that the kids will raise their hands and imitate Nazi Soldiers. My teacher got really mad. I know it was cruel of them but I think it is because their races have never been part of genocide. Ever since, genocide is probably the thing I fear the most.

Prison Break

         It was an audacious attempt, but it was one I had to take. I had to get out, we had to. It was unfair that I was incarcerated for something I didn't do. Our conscientious plan was to get out of Owl Lake Penitentiary. Ever since I embarked into Owl Lake, I knew I had to get out. There is only one way to depict Owl Lake, dirty. The cells were dirty, the prisoners smelled horribly, and the food tasted like rats.
         It was around seven o'clock when my plan started. I was out in the yard, watching some guys play basket-ball. The first part of the plan was to start a fight.
"You shoot like a girl" I exclaimed, as one of the prisoners missed a shot. It was a little childish but I knew it would work.
"What you say?" he said as he approached me.
          I got up and stood up to him. He was pretty big, I knew I had no chance. I backed up a little, and whispered sorry. He sneered, and that's when I punched him. I hit him squared in the jaw, his mouth was full with blood.
"I'm sorry, did I hit you?" I said as I started to run away.
         There were about five people chasing me until the guards came.
"Hey, Hey, What's going on?" exclaimed one of the guards.
"He hit, Skittles" shouted one of the prisoners.
"Come with me" said the guard in a lackadaisical voice.
           He took me back to my cell. On the way there I manage to trigger the fire alarm. The loud sound hurted my hear. The guard took me by the arm and placed handcuffs on me. We went out to the yars, where the guards we lining up the prisoners. There were about a hundred  prisoners, so the yard was pretty full.
"Is it real?" whispered one of the guards.
          We were about fifteen feet away from the building. I sneaked into the back of the line. The gates were  wired and if you touch you will probably fry. Except, in case of a fire, they turn it off.
"Yo, guard! Take those handcuffs off me! What if there is a fire and I need..." I was interrupted by the loud siren of the ambulance.
"Yeah, come over here' said one of the guards.
         He took the handcuffs off me, and I went to the back. Even if I manage to skip over the fifteen feet gate, there was no way I will make it out without been seen. I located the ambulance position, that was my way out. I needed some kind of distraction so I could manage to skip over the gate.
"Well, it looks like it was a false alarm. Get the prisoners back to their cells" said the prison warden.
       It was too late, we were all line up and ready to go back inside. I couldn't let this opportunity go away. I push the prisoners in front causing him to disrupt the line. Some prisoners took it personal, and started scuffing at each other. There was a huge fight, and everyone was involved. The guards tried to break it up, but were outnumbered. It was my break, all the snipers were pointing toward the fight. I ran as fast as I could toward the gate. I manage to get a good leap and few seconds later, I was on the other side. It felt good to be free, but it wasn't over. I needed to catch the ambulance. Most of the firemen were on board but the fight had caught their attention. I try to sneak into the ambulance, but it was too far away. If I ran, dust will rise and bring attention. I needed to wait but sooner or later, they will realize that I am missing.
         Ten minuted passed until the fight was over. The prisoners were back in the cells but the firemen were still here. They should of left long ago, but they were still here.I took my shoe and my jumpsuit off. I waited for them to leave. I needed them for shield. They finally started the firetrucks engine. It was fifteen minutes since I had gotten out. I was so happy to leave until I saw the warden and several other guards walk out onto the prison yard. They had realize I was gone. I was hiding behind a bush, but sooner or later, they will come find me. I was ready to leave, prison was hell, and i didn't want to go back. I can't go back, even if I had to die.
          I couldn't wait for the firetruck so I too of. Running as fast as I could. I had a sudden burst of adrenaline. I ran quicker than I had ever done in my life. I never stop running even when the prison was far behind me. I heard some shots fired but didn't pay attention. I had ran about a mile until I finally stop. I laid on the desert ground, I had done it. I was out of prison. I got up and realize that I was bleeding profusely from my stomach. I didn't feel it at first, but after a while, I was in pain. The nearest city was about ten miles from here. I was wearing just my boxers and t-shirt so I couldn't ask for a ride. I heard the siren of a police car. I was devastated, all of this for nothing. The police car seem to get closer. It was coming from the east, not from the prison. It suddenly stop as soon as it was fifteen from me. I turn around to see if I could escape. I was trapped. Another police car was coming from the west. I knew how this would end.
      

The Big Bucks

One thing that has been bothering me a lot is how much people criticize athletes for getting payed a lot. I mean, they could get injured and never play again,so let them enjoy it while it last. Anyone can be a doctor, a lawyer, but to be an athlete, you need to be special. Michael Jordan didn't just wake up with basket-ball skill but he was physically gifted. I do think that some athletes like Albert Haynesworth, and Nnmadi Asomugha get paid too much. I think the more the athlete gets paid, the less effort they put. I still think that they should get paid more than doctors and lawyers. The funny things is that most of the people that disagree are people that suck in sports; they get frustrated. For example, a guy has been working hard all his life since high school and he gets payed minimum wage. While his classmate, who was a jock and did poor in school, gets paid forty million dollars a year. So, the only reason that people don't like how much athletes get paid is because that guy who sat next to you in high school and failed every test, is getting paid millions of dollars!

The Pain of T-Ball

   I was really excited. My palms were sweaty, my shirt was stuck to my shirt and my heart was beating fast. It won’t a real game, but I taught it was special. It was my first baseball at-bat. The game was tied, well, it wasn't really a game. We were in P.E and we were playing Tee Ball. I had never played baseball; I had only watched about two innings of baseball my whole life. I was on the 7th spot of the lineup. There was someone on second base. The P.E class was just 35 minutes, and there was about three minutes left.

I went to the batter box and took a stance that I had seen on TV. The P.E teacher was the pitcher, so he threw it very slowly. I took a hard swing but missed miserably.

"Wait till it gets to you" shouted my teammates.

I once again took my stance and waited for the pitch. I waited, waited then I gave it a hard swing. By the time I swinged, the ball was already in the catcher’s hand.

"Don't wait that long, ok, just bunt it" shouted my teammate again.

I had know what bunt means from playing video games. You just put your bat in front sideways and hit the ball so that it falls in front of the catcher. I did exactly that. I just tap the ball and ran to first. The catcher sucked so I didn't have to run that fast. I was on first and someone else was on third. One more hit and we win. I couldn't control myself, I was all hyped up.

It was a girl’s turn to bat. There was one minted left of P.E. She missed the first one, fouled the next one and then popped up ht next one. The game was over, just like that. I was really mad. I mean, I went through all that trouble for nothing? What really got me mad was that everyone was happy. No one was mad. They were laughing and commenting each other on how good they played. Ever since that game I realize that it doesn't matter whether you won or lose, all the matter is that you had fun.

Ten Words Wednesday

       I was sitting on a bench waiting for the six o’clock bus when this old lady came up to me. She was carrying a bunch of bags but I didn’t feel like helping her. I just gave her that sympathy look, you know, when you give a phony smile and turn your head sideways.

 “Young darling, do you mind helping with my bags? My car is very far from here.” She entreated, her eyes were all wrinkly and her hands creped me out.


      If there is one thing I abhor, its old people. I know most people like him and so does the government. They get all the good stuff: good bus seats, nice parking spaces, and of course, our sympathy. I always throw a tirade whenever someone talks about old people.


“Don’t take this into amiss but...” I was interrupted by her grunt.


“I’m sorry to disturb you, O’ Dear, it’s just that I just got a hip replacement” she said, touching her back


“Sure, where is your car?” I asked, her nagging impelled me to help her


She pointed towards a blue SUV, she seemed too old to have one. I was despondent to catch the bus; her car was about a hundred yards away.


“Why did you park it so far?” I inquired


“Why? You think it wasn’t a sage idea?” she exclaimed, it was obvious she didn’t have affable manners and was irascible. “


“No, I’m just asking” although we were halfway there, the path seemed interminable.


We finally arrived and I helped her put it in the truck. I got a glimpse at her license plate.


“So, are you from New Jersey?” I said in a tremulous voice, scared that she will take it amiss.


“No, I’m from California, where there is sun, real, shining sun” she said as she started her car


She was whiter than chalk but I decided to keep that to myself


“Really, well, how long has it been since you’ve been there?” I inquired as she got settled in her car.


“Are you saying that I am too white?” she inquired, while she looked at her hands, she had known what I meant.


“Hey, you said it” I said as I went back to the bus station.


      As much as I didn’t like old people, I liked her. She was very funny, intimidating, and didn’t seem reclusive. I had missed the bus and was waiting for the second one to come. Although our conversation wasn’t profound, her voice kept haunting my taught. I was about to get on the bus when an old lady walked up to me and asked.


“Can you help with my bags?”