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My Short Nonfiction Story | “The Seventh Grade Slump!”

Tuesday, November 20th, 2018

People always say that they either hated middle school, hated their middle school selves, or simply have no valid recollection of middle school at all. Why is this? Is that just our brains cringing and erasing every single memory out of sheer embarrassment? Even high school, which is notorious for being one of the most stressful periods of your life, is somehow considered “better” than middle school for some people.

I wish I could say that I feel differently. But I would be lying. Seventh grade (or as I like to call it, “The Seventh Grade Slump”) is what I would consider to be one of the absolute lowest points in my academic life. Read on to see what I mean.

Firstly, some background—at the start of sixth grade, I was forced to transfer to another middle school which I would soon end up not liking as much as my elementary school. I was put into a Special Education program, called the “Navigators”, which was designed to provide extra help to students that were in need of it, such as myself. It was nice, and the people were nice to me. Aside from lots of verbal conflicts between certain Navigator students (which honestly did affect my enjoyment of the program), I did not mind it too much. In fact, I was pretty sure I would grow to like that school.

And then seventh grade came. The conflicts were less in number, some classes were fun and memorable, and I began to develop a slight sliver of an idea of what I wanted to do for a living. But this story is titled “The Seventh Grade Slump” for a reason.

This was the year in which I first felt the world may have been conspiring against me. My parents, for instance, became more strict, and as a result, more “annoying”. The Navigator teacher became more strict as well, and as a result, more “annoying”. My classmates became more annoying, and as a result, as one might guess, more “annoying”.

And that is not even getting started on me. Looking back, I realize that I became just as “annoying” as I thought everyone else was back then. To quote a certain fiction story that I wrote in eleventh grade, “I was shyer, lazier, more easily upset, more of a pessimist, a perfectionist who was angered if the slightest thing was wrong… The list is endless, basically.”

Because I was shy, the Navigator staff started actively trying to make me less shy. This was around the time when people started to leave my lunch table with no given reason, so the teacher assumed it was because I was not talking enough. As a result, I went through lots of individual training with conversations and talking, of which I quickly got tired. It seemed like they were overly obsessed with the very concept of me uttering words in public.

Side note—this would become especially evident when a particular new student showed up the following year, in eighth grade. It seemed like the only thing that anyone ever cared about was whatever the new student and I talked about (say, during lunch when we would sit together), and it also seemed like they wanted us to become best buddies forever. The problem was, neither of us was very talkative. And we had just met. That was “annoying” for both him and me.

And lastly, I was very forgetful during seventh grade, which would often land me in trouble with my parents (and on some occasions, the Navigator staff). They would deliver long, critical rants each time, as well as punishments and restrictions, and I distinctly remember hating it.

I soon became fed up with all this. So, during second semester, I started trying to make myself more likeable (e.g. trying to talk more, to be more positive, and even to be less lazy).

Did it work? Well… No. At least, not at first. But my impatient younger self, who would always give up if he did not see results immediately, just did not see any improvements. I still felt exactly as I felt during first semester. I had made no progress (as I saw it back then).

Perhaps the highlight of seventh grade was when it finally ended in May 2015. I enjoyed the summer as if it was the last, and then suffered through one last year of middle school (which was only slightly better than seventh grade because my classes were fun and memorable).

But once high school came around, something changed. Throughout ninth and tenth grade, I gradually became less shy, more optimistic, more organized and productive, etc. The new Navigator program was not as strict with me about speaking up, which ironically made me feel more self-confident. I was starting to subconsciously learn from “The Seventh Grade Slump”.

It just goes to show that if you find your life to be not all that great, you should first and foremost try to look at yourself, and see what can be improved.

THE END

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My Lyric Poem | “The Essay”

Friday, October 26th, 2018

First period English, 8:30 am,

You wished to stay in bed today.

But, as it turns out, that’s the least of your fears,

Because your teacher just assigned an essay!

(Oh dear…)

Let’s write an essay. A difficult task,

But a task that must be done.

Putting your pen to the paper

Is helpful, despite not being fun.

Got your paper and pen—Now what?

You don’t really know what to write.

But, please stay focused! Don’t procrastinate!

You simply must win this fight!

(Don’t give up!)

Let’s write an essay. A difficult task,

But a task which you must do.

You finally started writing,

So let’s see if you can pull through.

Intro paragraph, plus your thesis,

The hours are ticking away.

But, soon enough, the body paragraphs are complete,

And you’re almost done with your essay!

(Hooray!)

Let’s finish the essay. Not so difficult,

Now that it’s almost done.

I see you’ve finished the conclusion,

Which means the battle has been won!

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My Tanka Poem | “Writing a Tanka”

Friday, October 26th, 2018

Writing a tanka

Is quite a difficult thing.

You have to make sure

That all of the syllables

Follow the correct format.

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My Haiku Poem | “Rock Paper Scissors”

Friday, October 26th, 2018

Scissors cuts paper.

You yell angrily; I scream,

“I win! In your face!”

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My Rhyming Poem | “The Pencil”

Friday, October 26th, 2018

For me, the pencil

Is the most important utensil.

It’s small, and you most often use it,

But be careful, or you’ll most certainly lose it.

So what do you do if you lose your pencil?

Do you frantically search for another utensil?

Well, choose quickly, because classes have begun,

And without a pencil, you may be the only one.

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My Free Verse Poem | “Thinking in Poetry”

Friday, October 26th, 2018

After reading

A poetry book,

Do you ever find yourself

Thinking in poetry?

I sure do,

And now I just don’t see,

How I can ever stop

Thinking in poetry.

Oh me,

It seems that this

Is quite the predicament, indeed.

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My Short Fiction Story | “Early Advice from the Future!”

Wednesday, September 26th, 2018

It was the end of 7th grade, and I had never felt more satisfied with life. You see, 7th grade was horrible, and I would have hated to have to relive it again. But looking back, maybe part of the reason that year was so bad was because of me. I was shyer, lazier, more easily upset, more of a pessimist, a perfectionist who was angered if the slightest thing was wrong… The list is endless, basically. However, the good thing is that I have improved since then.

Or maybe that year was bad because of the school itself. To be honest, I never really liked the middle school I went to, and I have not had that many fond memories of it. There is no single reason for this—the teachers, the homework, the annoying classmates… This was also the year in which I started to feel more self-conscious. I really am not kidding when I tell you that I never want to go back. Like, ever.

In hindsight, the summer before 8th grade is what I would consider to be the best summer of all. I was finally free from school for three whole months, and I feel I used it wisely. At least, that is what I thought, until one day that quite frankly changed my life forever.

It was about a week after the last day of school. I was playing a video game I really liked in my room, when suddenly a mysterious portal appeared. This both startled and intrigued me, so I paused my game and looked towards the portal. That was when my mind was blown—someone entered my room, through the portal.

“Who on earth are you?” I asked.

The person looked to be high-school age, with a taller stature and a faint mustache starting to grow. And, perhaps weirdest of all, he looked just like me (except without braces).

“I’m you,” the person replied in a voice noticeably deeper than mine, “from the future.”

I was bewildered. Just how could this be? I was prepared to ask him every question in the book, in hopes that somehow he would explain all of this, but he stopped me.

“Please refrain from questioning any of this. I promise I will explain everything,” the future me said.

“I sure hope so,” I replied. “You, sir, have lots of explaining to do.”

“Then I shall explain,” said future-me. “Okay, so firstly, I am you from three years into the future. The year is 2015, and you just started your summer vacation, correct?” I nodded in reply, and then he said, “All right, good, I’m in the right time.”

“Okay, so then why did you come here?” I asked with utter curiosity.

“Be patient! That part’s next,” answered future-me. He paused a little before saying, “I have some bad news. There really is no easy way to put this, so I’ll just say it straight—you will be moving to the state of Oregon in about three years.”

I froze, trying to process what I just heard, and then asked, “W-What…?”

“Yes, I am afraid it’s true.”

“B-But I literally just moved apartments last summer! Does Mom seriously want to go someplace else already?”

“Well, actually, she got a job there. And she was initially unsure about it, but Dad pressured her to keep going when she was interviewing with them.”

“Man, that really stinks!” I lamented.

“Yes, it most certainly does,” came the reply. “And if you want specifics, then you’ll want to know this—you will get to spend 8th grade and the first two years of high school here, but July 31st, 2018 is our official moving date. After that, you will spend another month and four days in summer vacation before starting 11th grade. In the school I go to now, they start in September and end in June.”

“I am totally unsure of how to feel right now,” is all I could think to say.

“Well, wait a minute, because I’m not finished yet,” 2018-me said. “This is the part where you really need to pay attention.”

Despite having a problem with focus, I listened closely in anticipation. I will never forget what he said to me…

“Here is my advice—you have the entire summer vacation, plus three more school years in Kansas, plus another summer vacation before it is too late. Do not waste any of that time. If there is something you want to do before you move, then do it, as soon as humanly possible. Use any free moments you have. And lastly, enjoy your home while you still have it.” He paused again before saying this: “In other words, don’t do what I did. Trust me, if you follow this advice, don’t be lazy, and try to be positive whenever possible, then the move will not be as bad.”

I thought for a second. He was right. Deep down, I was amazed to have grown into such a wise person. And that sort of made me trust him more.

“Okay,” I said, “I’ll do it.”

“Good,” future-me replied. “I should probably be heading home. You can resume playing now.”

“All right, bye!”

Future-me waved before going through the portal again. In an instant, the portal disappeared, and then it was just me, in my room. From then on, I knew what I had to do.

I would not let my future down.

THE END

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Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

My Short Nonfiction Story | “The Seventh Grade Slump!”

My Lyric Poem | “The Essay”

My Tanka Poem | “Writing a Tanka”

My Haiku Poem | “Rock Paper Scissors”

My Rhyming Poem | “The Pencil”

My Free Verse Poem | “Thinking in Poetry”

My Short Fiction Story | “Early Advice from the Future!”

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