Gather 'round the campfire.
Since we're all sharing stories and whatnot, here's mine:
Well, I grew up mainly in Louisiana. When I was about two years old I moved home from Alaska with my baby brother... then things got interesting. Whithin the next three years, I had my share of whippings, and beatings. I lied, cheated, and occasionally stole whatever i wanted... hell I was 4 gimme a break. xD Well, around the time I was in preschool, I actually started meeting people. Before then I only knew family, and the neighbors... I lived in the country. Out of all of my "neighborhood" there were two other boys both younger than me.
We had our fun, but when preschool came, I had my fun. I learned all sorts of things, and made a few friends whom I still know and talk to today. I loved my daycare. Except for the milk. Ah yes my friend .. the milk. It was the worst torture ever. I hated milk, but in order to leave the table I would have to finish my dinner, including the milk. I once tried to prove a point, and sat at that table right through nap time. I didn't accomplish anything, except realize that its better to drink the milk cold and not three hours old. Yeah.. a wise lesson learned.
School finally came, real school. It was fun, back at Park Vista Elementary. It kinda makes me sad. At one point the sick and twisted mind that types to you was actually innocent. Not only innocent, but lovable. I think I was a good kid, but I had my moments... didn't we all? I kinda miss hearing an adult talk about something bad, and me have no clue what he/she means. But I think I grew up fast, in some ways. Ilearned curse words, and many other... unchildlike things early.. It actually wasn't early, but it would have been nice to have lived life innocently for a few more years.
The elementary years passed, and I was a soccer freak. I had played from fourth grade to now, and I wasn't giving up. I loved soccer. I ate, drank, and breathed it. It was my life. Now lets get one thing straight... I liked soccer, but... xD I wasn't good. I was actually quite horrible. I couldn't pass the ball straight, nor kick hard... don't worried that's all fixed now. Back to my life, I wasn't too popular at my junior high school. I was shorter than all the other guys, and I was def. weaker. So this meant, no arm wrestling, (I was slower too.) no tag, no anything. Soccer was the only thing I had practice in. Earlier I said I wasn't good and that's not entirely true. I had spent three years playing soccer in elementary, so I was good for that age group, but what I was walking into, I walked into very unprepared. Junior high went by in a flash of different books i read, and the dreaded day that I would attend high school. What would it be like? Would it be like the movie, Grease? With all the cool kids? Where would I fit in?
So many questions. All were answered my first day of high school at Opelousas Senior High. Of course, I signed up for soccer, and I got a few honors courses. Freshman year, was hard in social terms, but when it came to getting the grades, it was easy. That year, I had a few people I knew in my class. I made alot of friends. But mostly I stuck to my junior buddy Mike. Mike was cool, and didn't seem to be bothered hanging out with a fresman, thank the lord. He was my savior. He helped me with a few things, and he was also on the soccer team. He ended up giving me a ride to and from school and from soccer practice. My freshman summer, I practically lived at Mike's house. I would go over there for weeks at a time, and then come home because i was forced to. XD
Well, my sophomore year seemed easier than expected. Everyone told me that their sophomore year was the hardest and I figured I was surely going to have trouble. I breezed through that year like it was nothing. The only thing that I regret is quitting the soccer team. I quit right around the middle of the season. It's not like anyone wanted me back. I kindof think that was one of the reasons that i quit. Noone wanted me around, and I really needed a job. Those were my two reasons. So, I quit, and got a job working at my mom's school as a tutor. I got paid a little over minimum wage, so I wasn't complaining. I made around two hundred dollars a month. NOt bad for a fifteen year old. When that finally ended the school year was almost up.
The school year ended in drama. I told my mom that I was moving to my dad's, around a week before I was moving. That was a nice surprise, lemme tell ya. And that my friend was sarcasm! XP I am glad that I moved to my dad's though, because I got a really good job. I worked a forty hour week, making minimum wage. I made around a grand that summer. The only reason I made so little, yes, I dared use the term little, is because I got into a wreck. Before accusations of me being a bad driver start flying across the room, let me explain.
There I was, sitting at the light. It was red, and I was sitting there waiting for it to turn green, so that I could contunue on to work. The light turned green. I looked right, the cars on the other side were stopping. (the street was a four lane highway with a median) I looked left, I couldn't see the second lane, except for a green or blue van. The closest lane was stopping. I was turning left. This entailed me to travel across the traffic going to the right, and turn into the lane going left towards the Gonzales area. I started rolling, I must have been doing 15 mph. I hear screeching tires, and look left. I stare into the face of a terrified woman.
Suddenly i saw stars, and remember bouncing around in my seat. My truck was hit at 55 - 60 mph, dead on the drivers side front wheel. My truck's front wheels cam off the ground, and swung around 90 degrees to the right. I was facing the same direction of the van, and still rolling. I stomped once at my brake, because I was heading into opposing traffic, still stopped at the light. I missed the pedal, but ground my foot into the floorboard, to steady myself. I wasn't rolling fast, but my adrenaline was pumping and it felt like i was going lightspeed. I swerved right to miss an electric truck, which would have done me in. This straightened me out, and headed me right for a big metal pole. I still don't know exactly what it was for, but i jammed my wheel as hard as I could to the left. I rolled directly into the middle of a four lane... it was reg. two, but at the intersection, there were two turning lanes, and two lanes going straight. I stopped in the middle two lanes, blocking a turn lane, and a straight lane. I tried to move my truck off the road, and it woulnd't.
Suddenly I had the most horrible feeling, because right then it hit me.... I had wrecked my dad's truck. The truck he told me, "Chris be careful in my truck, its the only one i got." That was horrible. The man from the electric truck walked over to me. I was still strapped in, sitting in my truck... dumbstruck... He knocked on my window, and asked if I was alright and if I could move the truck off the road. I told him I was ok, and that I couldn't move the truck. Then I asked him the only question I could think of... "Is... is my truck messed up bad?" It sounds silly, but I was choking back tears, hoping that he would lie to me, tell me that it was just a little dint..... He looked at the tire, then down the length of my truck... and looked at me... with a..... grimace of sorts on his face. "Yeah... a little," he said. I couldn't take it anymore. I kicked out, and began to cry. I cried for myself, and for the truck, and for everything that I had held back for a long time.
The guy moved his big truck behind me and put on his flashers. I don't even know his name, yet I thank him. He helped me out of my truck. As I stepped onto the asphalt, I realized it was real... that everything was real.. It was cold outside. Not freezing.. just enough to make you know.... know that it was cold. You know, the kind of cold where you can just see your breath. I walked to the side of the road... slowly. I didn't know what to do. Even though I knew it was all real, I moved as if I was in a dream. My body did what it wanted to do and I had no control. Once, I reached the side of the road, I realized that I had taken out a small road sign, when trying to avoid the big metal pole... I couldn't do anything but cry, and run my hands through my hair. It was.. horrible. There are no words to describe how I felt, or even how I feel about it now, when I think about it in detail.
The cops came, and almost said that it was impossible to tell who's fault it was. If he had done that I wouldn't have been able to drive for a long time, because of insurance rates. It was a state cop i think.. but it wasn't his jurisdiction, because we were in the city limits. The other cops get there and the two cops discussed for a while, and the state police left. I was then put into the back of the ambulance and driven to the hospital. I had called my dad sometime while standing on the side of the road. He was an hour away at his job... I sat in that hospital for a little while. I think he made the trip in about 45 mins. I didn't even notice him, i walked straight by him, and went back to sit down. Someone had to come and get me and ask if I was who I was and they told me that I had just walked by my dad.
Well, I had an 800$ ambulance ride, and it was on my dad's mind I guess. When we got into his car, he wasn't happy. I don't even remember him asking me if I was ok. He just said, "Tell me what happened, and if this was yout fault you know your not going to drive again right?" That's when I broke down again, sobbing that it didn't matter if it was my fault or not, I wasn't going to drive again, and he couldn't make me. I guess he then realized how shook up I was. He told me that he was sorry, and that he beleived me. We went by the police station to find out when we could get the police report to see who's fault it was.
Well, once everything was cleared up, I went home, and took some tylenol. Everyone told me that I would need it later. I went to sleep... it was ten in the morning. By the time that I woke up it was dinner time. I woke up, ate, and went back to bed. I woke up the next morning, and called work, and told them what happened and that I wouldn't be in for a few days. I went back to sleep and woke up around dinner time again. The next day, I went to the doctor, because my back was hurting. The doc prescribed me something called Skelaxin. It was a muscle relaxer. I took the first one and started playing playstation. By the time i stopped, I reallized that I was almost laying down, completely relaxed, and that the only thing moving were my thumbs. XD
After that I went back to work. But never drove. I don't think I drove anything for about two months, and then I was really cautious. My step mom is a really bad driver. And whenever I would ride with her before I was always scared, but never said anything. Well, after the wreck, I was doubly scared. She stopped in little bursts that would make you jerk around, and she would cut across lanes. She once scared me so bad that I said, "Mrs. Tara, slow down. Your really scaring me." She decided to say, "Chris, I know your scared, but you have to get over it. You were never scared before." Oh was she mistaken, and I let her know. I said, "No! I was always scared of your driving I was just never scared enough to tell you!" She got really upset and told me something to the effect that if I was so scared, the she just wouldn't bring me anywhere. I told her that was fine, and she tried to make me feel bad, but it didn't work. XD
That was last summer, I moved back to my mom's and am now attending school at OHS again. I am a junior. I can't say that it feels good to be one, but its better than being a freshman. I am glad that I am almost out, but at the same time, am nervous that I may not make it in the real world. I now work out, and am looking the best I ever have in my life. I feel great and have more energy, although for some reason I have been keeping quiet. It really doesn't make a difference, but oh well. Well to ensure that I make it, I must get some sleep. Cause I can never make it tired. So, G'night!
~Ice
Well, I grew up mainly in Louisiana. When I was about two years old I moved home from Alaska with my baby brother... then things got interesting. Whithin the next three years, I had my share of whippings, and beatings. I lied, cheated, and occasionally stole whatever i wanted... hell I was 4 gimme a break. xD Well, around the time I was in preschool, I actually started meeting people. Before then I only knew family, and the neighbors... I lived in the country. Out of all of my "neighborhood" there were two other boys both younger than me.
We had our fun, but when preschool came, I had my fun. I learned all sorts of things, and made a few friends whom I still know and talk to today. I loved my daycare. Except for the milk. Ah yes my friend .. the milk. It was the worst torture ever. I hated milk, but in order to leave the table I would have to finish my dinner, including the milk. I once tried to prove a point, and sat at that table right through nap time. I didn't accomplish anything, except realize that its better to drink the milk cold and not three hours old. Yeah.. a wise lesson learned.
School finally came, real school. It was fun, back at Park Vista Elementary. It kinda makes me sad. At one point the sick and twisted mind that types to you was actually innocent. Not only innocent, but lovable. I think I was a good kid, but I had my moments... didn't we all? I kinda miss hearing an adult talk about something bad, and me have no clue what he/she means. But I think I grew up fast, in some ways. Ilearned curse words, and many other... unchildlike things early.. It actually wasn't early, but it would have been nice to have lived life innocently for a few more years.
The elementary years passed, and I was a soccer freak. I had played from fourth grade to now, and I wasn't giving up. I loved soccer. I ate, drank, and breathed it. It was my life. Now lets get one thing straight... I liked soccer, but... xD I wasn't good. I was actually quite horrible. I couldn't pass the ball straight, nor kick hard... don't worried that's all fixed now. Back to my life, I wasn't too popular at my junior high school. I was shorter than all the other guys, and I was def. weaker. So this meant, no arm wrestling, (I was slower too.) no tag, no anything. Soccer was the only thing I had practice in. Earlier I said I wasn't good and that's not entirely true. I had spent three years playing soccer in elementary, so I was good for that age group, but what I was walking into, I walked into very unprepared. Junior high went by in a flash of different books i read, and the dreaded day that I would attend high school. What would it be like? Would it be like the movie, Grease? With all the cool kids? Where would I fit in?
So many questions. All were answered my first day of high school at Opelousas Senior High. Of course, I signed up for soccer, and I got a few honors courses. Freshman year, was hard in social terms, but when it came to getting the grades, it was easy. That year, I had a few people I knew in my class. I made alot of friends. But mostly I stuck to my junior buddy Mike. Mike was cool, and didn't seem to be bothered hanging out with a fresman, thank the lord. He was my savior. He helped me with a few things, and he was also on the soccer team. He ended up giving me a ride to and from school and from soccer practice. My freshman summer, I practically lived at Mike's house. I would go over there for weeks at a time, and then come home because i was forced to. XD
Well, my sophomore year seemed easier than expected. Everyone told me that their sophomore year was the hardest and I figured I was surely going to have trouble. I breezed through that year like it was nothing. The only thing that I regret is quitting the soccer team. I quit right around the middle of the season. It's not like anyone wanted me back. I kindof think that was one of the reasons that i quit. Noone wanted me around, and I really needed a job. Those were my two reasons. So, I quit, and got a job working at my mom's school as a tutor. I got paid a little over minimum wage, so I wasn't complaining. I made around two hundred dollars a month. NOt bad for a fifteen year old. When that finally ended the school year was almost up.
The school year ended in drama. I told my mom that I was moving to my dad's, around a week before I was moving. That was a nice surprise, lemme tell ya. And that my friend was sarcasm! XP I am glad that I moved to my dad's though, because I got a really good job. I worked a forty hour week, making minimum wage. I made around a grand that summer. The only reason I made so little, yes, I dared use the term little, is because I got into a wreck. Before accusations of me being a bad driver start flying across the room, let me explain.
There I was, sitting at the light. It was red, and I was sitting there waiting for it to turn green, so that I could contunue on to work. The light turned green. I looked right, the cars on the other side were stopping. (the street was a four lane highway with a median) I looked left, I couldn't see the second lane, except for a green or blue van. The closest lane was stopping. I was turning left. This entailed me to travel across the traffic going to the right, and turn into the lane going left towards the Gonzales area. I started rolling, I must have been doing 15 mph. I hear screeching tires, and look left. I stare into the face of a terrified woman.
Suddenly i saw stars, and remember bouncing around in my seat. My truck was hit at 55 - 60 mph, dead on the drivers side front wheel. My truck's front wheels cam off the ground, and swung around 90 degrees to the right. I was facing the same direction of the van, and still rolling. I stomped once at my brake, because I was heading into opposing traffic, still stopped at the light. I missed the pedal, but ground my foot into the floorboard, to steady myself. I wasn't rolling fast, but my adrenaline was pumping and it felt like i was going lightspeed. I swerved right to miss an electric truck, which would have done me in. This straightened me out, and headed me right for a big metal pole. I still don't know exactly what it was for, but i jammed my wheel as hard as I could to the left. I rolled directly into the middle of a four lane... it was reg. two, but at the intersection, there were two turning lanes, and two lanes going straight. I stopped in the middle two lanes, blocking a turn lane, and a straight lane. I tried to move my truck off the road, and it woulnd't.
Suddenly I had the most horrible feeling, because right then it hit me.... I had wrecked my dad's truck. The truck he told me, "Chris be careful in my truck, its the only one i got." That was horrible. The man from the electric truck walked over to me. I was still strapped in, sitting in my truck... dumbstruck... He knocked on my window, and asked if I was alright and if I could move the truck off the road. I told him I was ok, and that I couldn't move the truck. Then I asked him the only question I could think of... "Is... is my truck messed up bad?" It sounds silly, but I was choking back tears, hoping that he would lie to me, tell me that it was just a little dint..... He looked at the tire, then down the length of my truck... and looked at me... with a..... grimace of sorts on his face. "Yeah... a little," he said. I couldn't take it anymore. I kicked out, and began to cry. I cried for myself, and for the truck, and for everything that I had held back for a long time.
The guy moved his big truck behind me and put on his flashers. I don't even know his name, yet I thank him. He helped me out of my truck. As I stepped onto the asphalt, I realized it was real... that everything was real.. It was cold outside. Not freezing.. just enough to make you know.... know that it was cold. You know, the kind of cold where you can just see your breath. I walked to the side of the road... slowly. I didn't know what to do. Even though I knew it was all real, I moved as if I was in a dream. My body did what it wanted to do and I had no control. Once, I reached the side of the road, I realized that I had taken out a small road sign, when trying to avoid the big metal pole... I couldn't do anything but cry, and run my hands through my hair. It was.. horrible. There are no words to describe how I felt, or even how I feel about it now, when I think about it in detail.
The cops came, and almost said that it was impossible to tell who's fault it was. If he had done that I wouldn't have been able to drive for a long time, because of insurance rates. It was a state cop i think.. but it wasn't his jurisdiction, because we were in the city limits. The other cops get there and the two cops discussed for a while, and the state police left. I was then put into the back of the ambulance and driven to the hospital. I had called my dad sometime while standing on the side of the road. He was an hour away at his job... I sat in that hospital for a little while. I think he made the trip in about 45 mins. I didn't even notice him, i walked straight by him, and went back to sit down. Someone had to come and get me and ask if I was who I was and they told me that I had just walked by my dad.
Well, I had an 800$ ambulance ride, and it was on my dad's mind I guess. When we got into his car, he wasn't happy. I don't even remember him asking me if I was ok. He just said, "Tell me what happened, and if this was yout fault you know your not going to drive again right?" That's when I broke down again, sobbing that it didn't matter if it was my fault or not, I wasn't going to drive again, and he couldn't make me. I guess he then realized how shook up I was. He told me that he was sorry, and that he beleived me. We went by the police station to find out when we could get the police report to see who's fault it was.
Well, once everything was cleared up, I went home, and took some tylenol. Everyone told me that I would need it later. I went to sleep... it was ten in the morning. By the time that I woke up it was dinner time. I woke up, ate, and went back to bed. I woke up the next morning, and called work, and told them what happened and that I wouldn't be in for a few days. I went back to sleep and woke up around dinner time again. The next day, I went to the doctor, because my back was hurting. The doc prescribed me something called Skelaxin. It was a muscle relaxer. I took the first one and started playing playstation. By the time i stopped, I reallized that I was almost laying down, completely relaxed, and that the only thing moving were my thumbs. XD
After that I went back to work. But never drove. I don't think I drove anything for about two months, and then I was really cautious. My step mom is a really bad driver. And whenever I would ride with her before I was always scared, but never said anything. Well, after the wreck, I was doubly scared. She stopped in little bursts that would make you jerk around, and she would cut across lanes. She once scared me so bad that I said, "Mrs. Tara, slow down. Your really scaring me." She decided to say, "Chris, I know your scared, but you have to get over it. You were never scared before." Oh was she mistaken, and I let her know. I said, "No! I was always scared of your driving I was just never scared enough to tell you!" She got really upset and told me something to the effect that if I was so scared, the she just wouldn't bring me anywhere. I told her that was fine, and she tried to make me feel bad, but it didn't work. XD
That was last summer, I moved back to my mom's and am now attending school at OHS again. I am a junior. I can't say that it feels good to be one, but its better than being a freshman. I am glad that I am almost out, but at the same time, am nervous that I may not make it in the real world. I now work out, and am looking the best I ever have in my life. I feel great and have more energy, although for some reason I have been keeping quiet. It really doesn't make a difference, but oh well. Well to ensure that I make it, I must get some sleep. Cause I can never make it tired. So, G'night!
~Ice