October 15

THE DINOSAUR IN THE ROOM

When I get into trouble and get the question, “why”? I never know what to say as many times I was act without thinking. This always reminds of my childhood when for the first time my sense of wonder got me into a very nerve-wracking situation. 

My first field trip ever, I was so excited in Kindergarten 2002 only 5 years-old. I was very nervous and I had butterflies in my stomach; however I had my cousin with me whom I was really close with. We grew up together and spent a lot of our free time playing. I boarded the bus for the first-time and quickly sat down on the first seat i saw far from the terrifying back. I sat there completely still throughout the whole bus ride. As we got off the bus we, were assigned a teacher or volunteer who would act as our tour guide, luckily my cousin and I were in the same group. As we followed in the back we were astonished by our surroundings.

            I saw this great big dinosaur that caught my eyes. I stood there admiring this really cool creature.  Me and my cousin had just recently enjoyed watching Jurassic Park so we were really fond of dinosaurs.  With those old VCR tapes and DVDS were starting to come out. Later we also bought the DVD addition. After watching that movie I believed that somewhere in Jungles Dinosaurs grazed the Earth and were truly alive. I had heard that we humans still hadn’t established our civilization through the whole world where these dinosaurs existed. I remember my Grandma once telling me they were still alive so going into the Calgary Zoo I thought I was going to see dinosaurs from Jurassic Park. Although I wondered why the dinosaurs were not showing their ruthless behavior as I saw from the movie but I was rather relieved.

I was standing there watching this dinosaur flap its enormous wings and zoned out. I was standing there probably stood there for what I thought were only just a mere few seconds but turned out be a lot longer.

 All of a sudden these great big terrifying black clouds moved in place of the warming sun, and sent this cold chill through the air. This pulled me away from this intriguing dinosaur and felt was being zoomed in back into real time. Now I was back I looked around my surroundings. Then quickly I reconciled myself and I was lost! I looked around me and it was like the world was spinning around me and my eyes were scanning for something familiar, I found my cousin but still no adult I recognized. All these questions raced into my mind whether or not I would ever go back home? Would I go somewhere, where all lost kids go trapped in a scary underground dungeon where I would dread every day of my life? Would I be able to play again ride the brand new blue bike that went as fast a really fast car? Would my parents even miss me? All the dinosaurs turned into these menacing man eating  beasts with their razor sharp intimidating teeth. It was dark and cloudy with a cold chill breezing through the air.

            Tall giants walking around me I felt trapped then a man in shirt and tie walked towards us with his shiny bald head who I recognized to be our principal. I was so relived and our principal lead us into a building where all the other kids were sitting eating their lunches.

            Still today I remain trapped in this wonder and I find myself in similar situations where the consequences are much more severe. As I get older I struggle: to be grown up, follow in example, and do what is expected of me as try to maintain that sense of wonder I had since childhood. It was okay to get away with it when I was younger as it showed a sense of innocence and charming in a way. Now that I am older I am expected to have lost that innocence and sense of wonder in place of these strict expectations. 

October 15

A Change of Life

In the fall of 2007, my life had changed. I had left the streets that raised me, left the school where I made my first friends, left behind my first experiences, left behind my first teachers. I was in complete and utter distress.

New situations give me anxiety, and starting a new school was no exception. I attended public school for my entire life where the teachers were very lenient and easy-going, but that did not matter anymore because my dad had forcefully enrolled me at a dreadful school called FFCA, also known as Foundations for the Future Charter Academy. FFCA enforced uniforms and something awful called ready-position. Although, I did not know much about the school that I would be attending in the fall, I did know that it would change a lot of things about me. I was nervous to start going to a new school, but I was also eager to begin a new journey and make new experiences.

After changing into my uniform on the first day of school, I made my way to my bus stop where I stood timidly waiting for my bus to arrive. The bus arrived after a couple of minutes and two mustard yellow doors swooshed open to allow me in. I took a seat and a kid introduced himself to me. Although he was older than I was, he was very friendly and helped me ease into the experience of starting a new school.

When I arrived at the mimicking building that belonged to FFCA, I was shocked because it did not seem to be even one bit public like. Everything about FFCA was new to me. The school I attended before FFCA only had one small rickety bus that seven kids went on, at FFCA there were over 20 busses that almost the entire school went on; however, I recalled my days at my previous school.
Being a child who attended public school had many benefits. It was cheaper, easier to get in, but my favorite advantage was the fact that you were free to wear any piece of clothing that you chose, but at FFCA there was only one red and grey uniform that stood out which was expected to be kept neat and worn everyday of the month with the exception of the last Friday of the month. This was something completely new to me and after seeing this, I was in sorrow over the fact that this was going to be my school.

Upon arriving at my new school I was welcomed with students huddled together in their grey and red uniforms. This was something that was new to me. At my old school the kids were scattered throughout the entire length of the freshly cut, crisp green grass, however, at FFCA the majority of the children were standing in lines, after seeing this I was beginning to believe the rumors about military school. Although I was starting to worry about my future, I saw a glimmer of hope when I met my principal.

The principal had helped me find my classroom and showed me my way around the school. I had seen some familiar faces and identified a few friends when I walked into my classroom and even though I was new to this school, I had felt as if I had been attending FFCA for years. I felt a sense of belonging. Being surrounded by all my schoolmates now made me feel more at ease and more comfortable at school. I was no longer nervous about attending FFCA and was excited to start going to my new classes and meeting my new classmates.

Despite the fact that I was forced to move on from my previous friends, teachers, and school, I have entered a new environment which not only makes up for it, but makes me feel at home. Moving schools was something that I did not want to do, but I have made many experiences at FFCA and am thankful to my dad that he forced me into what was once my nightmare.

October 15

The Change In Short Time

It was a warm skin-burning summer day,  and already one month into grade five. I was enjoying school and was starting to settle in from the shift of my summer holidays. Even though my school started  in August, whereas others in comparison started in September, I didn’t mind and was eager to attend school every day because of the friends that I had made at Grant Macewan. After a long sweaty day, I sat down to eat supper, my mom had addressed me about a phone call on the opportunity to take a test for a school named FFCA. Knowing my mom, I had felt that this school would be strict, where they stress academics; therefore, I felt that I shouldn’t try on this test so I wouldn’t be accepted. However I got into a stage of instant shock when I had realized that I had been a part of this waiting list for eight years. I was sitting on the fence and, I had to come to a decision because I didn’t want to ruin this opportunity.

On the day of my test, sitting in the back seat of the car, I was looking outside at the wonderful bright trees, which now the leaves had been getting outlined with yellow because of the season change. I had got into a predicament waiting to approach Southwood Elementary. I was nerve racked and stressing because of the pressure that my parents were putting on me in the car. Finally, the vehicle had came to a stop, I reached my destination and as I got out of the vehicle I felt the warm humid breeze flow against my cheeks. Walking up the cement filled stairs, I opened the bright red doors and saw a hallway that was very welcoming and luminous. I had seen many students walking away from the hallway huddled wearing their uniforms. I knew that maybe if I had passed this test I would also have the ability of wearing the FFCA red, green and black logo. I proceeded to the left and there I saw a lady with a huge smile on her face, after introducing myself to her she told me to take a seat on the wooden bench outside of the room and wait till I get called up. Finally, “Preetinder Jaswal”, a voice exclaimed, I quickly rushed off the bench and followed the secretary to partake in the written test.

After writing the test I had felt confident that I had done well; although, that wasn’t my intention. Since the school year had started for the FFCA students, I had hoped that maybe I would be accepted the following year.

On Saturday, two days after the test as I entered the room, I had heard the automated saying, “You have one new voicemail”, echoing throughout the room, my dad dialed the voicemail and in appreciative tone he had told me that I had got accepted to FFCA and they are expecting me to be there on Monday. Now in a dilemma, I wasn’t expecting this and not ready to make this change I was in despair.

On Monday morning, with bright sunshine blinding my eyes, I walked to the front office and with a joyous tone the secretary had welcomed me and told me my teachers name. Not knowing much about the school the principal also accompanied me and escorted me to the class. Walking down the shiny polished hallways it was all getting to me. My principal had told me that my class is to the left and she introduced me to the whole class. I took a seat in the back corner of the class not knowing anyone, but the others around me started a conversation with me and made me feel belonged. Even though I hadn’t known anyone it just showed the character that the school stresses about setting an example and being nice to others.

When I had got home my dad questioned me about how my day went, and for once about this school switching scenario I had told him that everything went well and I wanted to stay at this school. The argument that my parents and I had now came to a end and everything was well. Although adjusting to taking a bus everyday and waking up two hours earlier than everyone else was hard, I had decided that FFCA was the way to go for having a successful future.

It was a difficult transition for me switching schools because my elementary was a part of my childhood. Going there for six years and switching in less than three days was a huge change and made me go through new experiences such as making new friends, and learning the way that FFCA works. At a young age I had learned how to handle hard situations and how to fit in and get in my comfort zone. The experience of switching to FFCA from my old elementary has made me much more outgoing and much more academic to what now I am proud of.

October 15

The Day I Became Less Important

It was a crisp Monday morning on March 6th, 2000. There it wasn’t snowing but there was quite of bit of snow on the ground. That weekend was important to our family; my mom was expecting another child, and they were still at the hospital because my mom went into labour on Saturday. Me and my grandparents had been anxiously waiting for her to come home with my dad and the baby. I wasn’t even four yet and I hadn’t started school yet either. There was not much I could comprehend about newborns and having babies, but all I knew was that I wanted a baby brother. The morning was as normal as it could be. Milk being spilt on the carpet was the only thing I would worry about while watching my morning cartoons; however, the thing that walked through the door the next moment would drastically change my life and would give me a great life lesson of giving things up for others.

While watching Tom & Jerry, I suddenly heard that distinct noise of someone trying to unlock the door from the outside. So did my grandparents apparently, because they bolted to the door faster than I had ever seen them move before. I never understood why grandparents would always be dying to have grandchildren, but that moment was a prime example of that being true. The door swung open and walked in three people like celebrities getting out of their limo on a red carpet, my mom, my dad, and my baby brother or sister.

“It’s a girl!” exclaimed my dad with my grandma and grandpa gathering around her as if she was some sort of alien from another planet.

Despite of wanting a baby brother, I still didn’t care about that much because I was too focused on the new member of the family. Awestruck and excited about having a younger sibling, I also joined the big group around my door to take a look at my baby sister. While examining her, I thought about how being a older brother will be the coolest thing ever and it would be so fun; nevertheless, I was somewhat incorrect about that.

The first few days of having a younger sibling was great, mostly because I was amazed with my baby sister. I was learning and understanding so many new things about her and I enjoyed playing with her; however, she was my worst nightmare by the end of the week. She was like a new toy where you would constantly play with it for a few days until you got bored with it and left it in the bottom of the toy box. It was terrible for me when I got bored of playing with my sister. She didn’t have many positives to her besides the fact that she was a good source of entertainment; everything else was a negative. She would constantly cry until the sun rose again, the poop in her diaper turned the house into a gas chamber, and she stole my spot on the couch where she slept there all day. The worst thing of all was that she took all the attention and was more important.

I was always was a loud kid, and I couldn’t be my normal self with a sleeping baby that was ready to wake up and get me into trouble. The biggest issue, however, was that couldn’t stand the fact that I wasn’t the center of attention. After three and a half years of being a only child and being the one and only priority of my family, I was wishing that I was an only child again. I didn’t really appreciate the perks you get of being a only child until now, because those perks were gone and I they were transferred to my sister.

I tried my best to get through this tough time, but it was pure torture. There was constant envy towards my sister and the struggle of being number two was always on my mind. Sometimes, I would just throw temper tantrums and cry, simply because I didn’t get the attention I wanted and hoped for. Even all my other relatives forgot that I existed and would crowd around my sister 24/7. Being small boy who hasn’t even went to school yet, I couldn’t comprehend the idea of sharing and sacrificing, but a conversation with my older cousin changed my perspective around forever.

My older cousin Montu had been in the same situation that I had been, being a young boy and getting a baby sister. He has explained to me that being the older brother, I had a responsibility to be the caring and helpful because she was just a small baby and it was normal for her to get all the attention. He also said that it was normal for me to not be used to being the center of attention and having a feeling of jealousy. I took that advice to heart and I tried to follow it with my best of ability.

It took a while to transition into being understanding and not being mad about not getting all the attention, but eventually I got used to it. Although it sucked for a while letting go of my ego, it helped me with doing my best to be the most helpful brother I could be. The advice that my cousin had gave me has stuck to me ever since and I feel that I wouldn’t be as  selfless as I would have been if I didn’t get that advice when I was a jealous, young, boy. One thing that I have been working on ever since my sister was born is being the best brother I could be, and that advice gave it a kick start. At a young age, I had realized that sometimes one just has to give something up in order to achieve something else.

October 15

Why Me?

For many people around the world nature poses a constant struggle on individuals and how they live their everyday lives. In many instances it creates an obstacle and a duration of hardship and fear. Many people use this as their motivation for survival, whether it be implicit or explicit. I am no different- a young Fijian boy living in Calgary, Alberta who is unfamiliar with this sense of hardship and encountered by it on a routine walk home from  school to my house.

It was another cold windy day in Calgary, and I was energetically approaching my elementary school. The cold, crisp air was biting in to the skin of my little chubby cheeks causing me to feel a stinging sensation. The pain spread like a virus through my body I started feeling my fingers and toes  numb up, that is when I realized that I had to make a run to the doors to warm up as soon as possible. I started walking faster and faster evolving from a energetic walk to a frantic run. The haunting air brutally rushed my face and the pain increased dramatically , but it was all worth it because as I entered the school the warm air swept me off my feet.

I took off my oversized winter jacket and my colossal boots, I gingerly settled into my seat at the front of my grade 4 science class and began to listen attentively to every word my teacher was saying.  After an intriguing forty five minutes the class had ended and my joy had come to an end, this was  mainly due to the fact that I had math class after. Math was one of the most boring classes of the day and the only positive that come out of it was that it was the class before lunch. While I sitting in my desk I happened to stare outside and notice a blizzard emerging out of nothing. Snow flew past the window at a rapids speed. All you could see outside was white. Then it hit me I realized that it would be me verse the blizzard, I had to walk home for lunch.

When the bell rang I slowly got out of my seat and went into the coatroom. With students all around me frantically put on their clothes I took my time because I was in no rush to encounter the beast that awaited me. I made sure I wrapped myself up as well as possible, zipping up my jacket all the way up to my neck, my gloves on all the way up to my forearms, and my toque on head. I felt prepared a sudden rush of adrenaline filled my body and confidence emerged from fear and I took my first step out of the door.

The wind had almost blown me off my feet, but I forced myself to stay up on my feet I was determined to get home no matter what. I walked in the footsteps of others to make my task at hand a bit easier , but the weird zigzag nature of the other peoples step threw me off.  This was maybe a challenge I won’t be able to overcome alone. I kept continuing step by step there was no turning back. Each step felt harder and harder and the weight of my legs increased every single time I raised it.  The sound of my feet stepping into the snow didn’t help my pain at all. On the bright side I was almost home halfway there and I had almost won my battle against mother nature’s vicious beast.

Unfortunately that is when my fatigue took over, and I stepped on ice that wasn’t completely frozen and my foot fell in to the intense frigid water that lied beneath. As  I struggled to take my foot out of the ice I could not it was stuck there. The  glacial like water slowly entered my boot and the freezing cold nature of it froze my foot. I sat there still struggling to take my boot out but the pain was unbearable and at that moment my eyes started to water, I gave up. I had no energy to move and struggle anymore I sat there and cried. The tears ran down my face almost freezing on to my face and I had never shivered that much in my life.  Mother nature had won and it was the end of this battle I was drained of all energy, and it was inevitable that it was the end of me

However out of the whiteness of the blizzard this elderly woman emerged and offered her hand to me. She was my hero. Her soft mittens gripped me firmly and brought me up to my feet. As I got up the sound of the ice breaking was one of the sweetest sounds to hear  and the steps in the snow sounded not as scary. She brought me inside of her house and once again the heat of her home took over and extinguished the coldness that was once present.

As I warmed up she drove me to my house and as I stepped in through the door I smelt the beautiful aroma of butter chicken fill my nostrils, the smell could not be any better. I walked up and confronted my grandparents and asked them how they were doing this particular afternoon like every other day. My grandparents both responded by saying they were doing “fine”. They then asked me in return on how school was. This sense of awkwardness filled the room and I did not say word. In Fijian families weakness is not acceptable and sharing this story would totally label me as the family’s “little girl.”

After I finished eating I thought about how I even stepped out of those elementary doors, and how things could have turned out if it wasn’t for my hero. Even now fear has played a major role in my personality and what I stand for. It is inevitable to avoid fear but knowledge and awareness will assist in decision making. This in many cases can determine how one may overcome fear or possibly drown in it.

October 15

The Life of a Flyer Boy

I woke up to a world without a visible sun. It hid behind the dark clouds of Mother Nature; holding back any shred of heat that might derive from it. The frigid air from outside slithered through the cracks of my house encasing me in a blanket of arctic air. My only protection was one lonely duck feathered quilt my mother had bought me years ago. Despite, my body filled with reluctance and scorn, I lifted myself out of bed and dashed to the sanctuary of my hot shower. However; this sanctuary would not last forever for I would soon remember that it was flyer day.

Misery and dread was mutually shared between my brothers and I on flyer day. For it was the day our toes would go numb and our bodies would end covered in bruises. Leaping over snow banks, running through valleys of snow, and sliding across rinks of ice, These were our many strategies to delivering the precious flyer. These motions would render our bodies exhausted and beaten, all for the good people of Panorama Hills. Savings were of their number one priority!

My brothers and I had the initial task of squishing and squashing each and every flyer into the flyer mobile; two trip were never an option!

As we opened the door front door to our safe haven too, crisp, frigid air came rushing in; cutting through  layers of jackets ,chilling our bones to the core. Any uncovered skin was left vulnerable to mother nature’s bites. The outside looked like a winter waste land, with snow carpeting every little space imaginable, leaving ice to  be discovered only by slips and falls.

This task was insignificant compared to the daunting task that soon would be upon us. The countless vogues we would take, would always start in depression, but the warm promise of home would keep us motivated. The sudden gimps of the ominous last flyer, would strike fear into our hearts, for  we would have to venture out in weather that no sane man had gone before.

As the engine of the flyer mobile roared to life adrenaline would fill our hearts, giving us the promise of a strong start. We rolled down the icy roads of Panorama hills, with all doors open; efficiency was all in practicum when delivering flyers.  As we stopped at our first house I saw Kian, already 20 meters away running like he had the promise of a girl on the other end. Unfortunately, his return looked nothing like his original flight out, he would come back covered in arctic frost which would end up straight into his body slowing him down for the rest of the day.

There were 599 left and I could already tell that today was not going to be a good day. The streets had became a skating rink  with snow at every end ready to catch any falls trips and slips. Needless to say I grew great trust with the snow by the end of the day, for it would catch me many times over.

We almost at the half way mark when little Kian would came back in tears holding his knee complaining he had slipped and broken his collar bone. It was left to me and Cole to finish the daunting task of delivering these flyers. Cole’s face was a mirror image of mine, plastered with, disdain and scorn, for this task was meant for the 3 brothers not for 2 and one cheerleader.

The promise of doughnuts and hot chocolate would leave my father lips motivating me and Cole to finish this heart retching task. We would finish it in a time that could not compare to any previous or any from the future.

Hot chocolate and doughnuts were our reward, which we would claim no modesty. Crumbs were left to the final brother who would; consequently end in tears , for what would be the second time today. Kian’s puppy dog eyes would bring no empathy; he would be left with only crumbs. The life of a flyer boy is not intended for the average, but merely meant for the brave, persistent and the few.

October 15

The Day the Sun God Blinked

The fiery haired demons wound the bright ropes tighter and tighter till my hands could no longer feel anything or fight for the freedom they longed for.

“Up!” A beastly woman cried at me, whilst jerking my bound hands up to force me vertical. I was too young to understand or overpower my captors-I was afraid. I feared the sick reason I was bound to tight and forced to a plank of wood, which now served as my spine, for my legs wanted to give out and I could no longer hold my muscles in the strangely straight position the had me in. “Move!” they shoved me forward, towards the blessed daylight that I hadn’t seen for what seemed like years. When did the sun rise that day, and what day was it- too young and tried to know. I obeyed, barefoot I stepped out into the cold November snow and gave them no sign of my discomfort; I feared what they would do to me if I did. They led me to two tall trees- century old mammoths- capable of supporting this 92 pound girl on a board. The Redheaded wenches hoisted me up and sat my sturdy plank between the two trees. I stared at the white ground below me and shivered as I felt the frozen autumn wind cut through my shabby prison frock; the only clothes I had in the world. The ropes cut into my chest, legs, belly and head; the ever bright snow burned the white images into my eyes while my blonde hair tickled my face. Help! I cried in my mind, why won’t anyone help me, someone please help me! My muffled cries were filled with the bitter taste of the brightly colored rope.

“Stay here.” I heard the larger one command. “Watch the prisoner.”, And I heard footsteps crunch through the snow. I could hear nothing but the sounds of machines whir and hum outside, I could see nothing but the painful white of the snow blinding me, and I could feel nothing but the cool breeze pushing my hair around my face; I began to lose hope for everything. Why did these heathens choose me? Was it because I was small, weak, and vulnerable? Or, perhaps, it was because I blindly followed their enticing siren song of ‘come join us’. The silhouette of the leader and her heavy set footsteps returned, I couldn’t pay attention to them though, a strand of my hair had found a secret spot that only I knew could bother me and my hands longed once again to satisfy the sensation.

“Let the ceremony commence”. Slowly I noticed that the sun had begun to fade away from the November frost- Impossible! It was too bright before to be sunset. “The sun god is growing hungry!” The smaller one exclaimed with fear and a strange desire in her voice. Sun god? OF COURSE! It was the day of the solar eclipse; my team had been setting up to capture pictures of it, that was, before, the tribes found us and accused us of desecrating their secret grove. I remembered it all now, It all flashed back to me! Those primitive beings actually thought that the sun wanted my blood- this was a Sacrifice! I started to struggle more and more against my restraints; the rope biting and burning me in the dry heat of my panic. Their feet appeared on both sides of me as they prepared me for the demonic ritual. One placed their hand on my arm that was tied back behind the board when suddenly an angel called back and froze them and my unholy fate with two of her melodious words.

“Girls, Supper!” and just like that play time was over, and my sisters and I rushed in the house to eat our well-earned feast, all because the sun god that day, blinked.

October 15

If Only I Was Obedient

The perfect afternoon, the sun is shining the tree providing the right amount of shade to stay cool while having a friendly game of basketball with my brother. I start to check the ball to him, checking the ball in a one on one basketball game is when you pass it to the other player and they pass it back and the game will start unfortunately there is no rule on how you pass the ball back. Being the competitive people we are we get started and I pass him the ball, respectfully. Instantly I saw him flex his arm move his right foot forward and pass the ball right into my face. Time felt as if it slowed down and reminded me of the day and moment just like this.

Where the sun rose on a bright sunny summer morning piercing through my window and prying open my eyes one by one, forcing to me to wake up on this particular morning. Even though I didn’t know it yet this day was different and what was to come was never to be expected. I whipped around, seeing my brother fast asleep in the bed beside mine, and get out of bed throwing my blanket aside and walking towards the sound of the TV hauntingly whisking me away. Which ended up leading me to my mother’s room where my mother and sister were laying nonchalantly on the bed without a care.

As I’m about to get myself comfortable and join them on the bed watch TV my mom asked me if I would grab her a cup of water from downstairs still quite tired but I didn’t mind doing it for my mom so I didn’t say a word and made my way downstairs. In the instant that they lost sight of me when I turned the corner my sister hollered out to grab her one too, not having a choice I made my way down those 15 flights of stairs but in the morning the top of the stairs was practically the peak of mount Everest . Finally I reached the summit of the staircase and make my way to the pitcher in the kitchen, slowly but surely making my way to the pitcher I thought to myself hoping that I don’t have to do this daily because I’m not anyone’s butler.

I fill the cups and make my way back up the stairs, painfully I looked up at the staircase and begin to go up taking my time slowly but surely. I get back to my mother’s room and hand both of them their glasses of water my mother thanking me for the water and my sister just anxiously chugging the water down as if she didn’t have water for days on end. As I make my leave I saw at the corner of my eye my mom nudge and hear my sister say thanks.

I resume the strenuous task of hiking back all the way down to the living room where that cotton stuffed leather couch was practically a bed of feathers, I turn on YTV and let just time fade away. But soon enough she made her way back into my day and sat across from me in the one seat couch and asked for the remote. I thought she just wanted to turn the volume up or something but how naive I was to think such a thing, I hand her the remote and as soon as she gets it she changes the channel. Then I thought to myself you idiot of course she’s going to change the channel if she asks for the remote, so I asked her

“why’d you change the channel, I was watching that.”

“I don’t care I’m watching now,” she replied in the most obnoxious voice imaginable. I tried to make today different and not get into a fight with her so I let it slide and just watched with her but soon enough another problem arose.

The remote just slides off the arm rest and onto the floor and arm length away . I looked at it then look at her and see her staring right at me with that face as if I’m suppose to pick that up for her.

“Pick it up,” she dictates, “now!”

“What, you do it your closer,” I reason. I look away and continue watching that see her go and pick the remote back up. As I saw her go up and get it I felt truly proud that I stood up to her and that I might even be more respected but that not the case with siblings. I then see her make the motion of pulling her arm back to throw it and as it leaves her hand time slowed down and my life flashed before my eyes, which wasn’t much, mainly the times where me and my sister had fought. Then there was the loud thud of the remote hitting my head and me crying from the searing pain of the head trauma. I quickly scurried up holding my head and ran up starts  to my mom. At that moment in time of my life I lost all respect for my sister and who she became then on, which is a fascist dictator to this day.

I skillfully scoop the ball away from my face and make a drive for the net shoving my aside, as if he was my blanket in the morning, causing him to tumble down onto his tail. That game was one of the most enjoyable moments I’ve had with my brother and how we can have more opportunities like that and maybe even with my sister.

October 15

The Devil’s Accomplices

The things people will do to impress their friends, strangers and family is immense. We get this ambition when a friend comes over, to not show your true self, but instead we showoff. The things people do is serious, it could end in tragedy or even violence. That is what happened to me, my sister announced her childhood friend would be coming to the house that day. This day would be remembered in my present as i tell my story, and continue to be mounred in the future.

It was day like any other day, bright, ecstatic, and the sun was shining; however, things didn’t go as well as I had hoped they would go. I woke up in a haphazardly way, brushed my teeth until my gums blanketed in blood, made my bed like a prisoner of 10-years, and inhaled breakfast all before the 10:30 AM mark. Dad had already given me the typical speal about being lazy and waking up late, all in good fun however. It was July 2006, a Saturday. The day to change all days. I sat down on the computer chair just as I did every weekend morning, it was my weekend routine: game like a hardcore professional, eat like a 24 year old construction worker at lunch, and procrastinate like every teenager i know.

At 12:30 PM my sister, Gabee, announced she has a friend coming over for the day to “chill out.” At that age, I had no clue what that meant. Maybe it had something to do with the freezer? The second Gabee announced her  friend was coming over, I knew  who it was. Chandler Herget, one of the devil’s accomplice. When the devil’s minions got together, and no parents were around, trouble was bound to happen.

1:00 PM, the doorbell rang, chills ran up my spine. Every good thing I knew about Gabee wouldn’t matter anymore now that she was with Chandler. She became the bane of my existence. I was a slow and injured deer surrounded by a couple of hungry wild wolves, all I could do was hide. The devil and devil’s accomplice had not noticed me in the computer room. Thankfully, they headed downstairs to the basement. I carefully tip-toed to the door and shut it ever so quietly, praying they didn’t hear that.

A few hours passed and dinnertime was on the horizon, Thank god! Every time my desk chair squealed or screeched I stopped, not even breathing, as if I had seen a ghost. Those screeches in my head sounded like a jet taking off inside my house. I was getting hungry and thirsty, maybe eating would take my mind off the fear. I needed to devise a plan that would not attract attention and would provide good loot. This was my first mistake, I should have made a sandwich in the kitchen, but that didn’t sound rewarding. Unfortunately, the real prize was in the basement freezer, guarded by terrifying brutes who would chase anything they see or hear.

My plan was simple, sneak downstairs, past the brutes, and into the freezer room. All I had to do from there was getaway. Sneaking around and running fast were not an issue, at that age I was fast and quiet, an advantage of being small. It was time to go so I started my way down the basement stairs, it wasn’t until the last step that my foot landed on the edge of the stair and made a large creaking sound, I came to a complete halt and watched them as they watched their silly network shows about teen stars. The plan was going great until I reached the freezer room. The worst yet most simple thing had happened. I didn’t know what I wanted.

Every second that the freezer was open cold rushing air leaked outside and made a breeze. Chandler noticed the breeze and turned around to see me grabbing snacks. I was caught. I immediately raced upstairs knowing I would have better chances for a clean getaway in the kitchen around the island. The devil’s flew upstairs as if it were a hot pursuit. Gabee grabbed the wooden spoon, she knew that it hurt when you whacked someone with it. She knew that because of past experiences. My eyes and hands twitched at the sight of the wooden spoon trapped in Gabee’s death grip. by running around the island repeatedly I would always have one way to run if she blocked another exit. That was until Chandler blocked my getaway. It was make or break time. I could run through Chandler who was weaker than Gabee, or fight back when they lurk up to me and pounce. Fighting back would e useless against the two of them. I went for plan A. I charged towards Chandler, but then snagged by Gabee at the side and thrown onto the hard solid ground. WHACK! The wooden spoon struck my bareback hard. My nerves flooded with pain, I began to cry. Their laughter roared through the house like war horns. Flailing wildly, I was released by the devil’s grasp and ran towards the computer room, there I called my mom and told her what had happened.

Chandler left later that night and Gabee was grounded, I couldn’t help but act smug when I heard those treacherous hated words by the youth of today, “You’re grounded Gabee.” All that remained for the next week was the bruise on my back and awkward silences and looks that were exchanged when we were in the same room. Gabee was a devil in her own silent and creepy way.

October 15

The Black Gates

4505851087_0d7afe1bd4_z

I was about five years old and before I knew it, my childhood ended right then and there. One dreaded day my parents woke me up bright and early, but it wasn’t bright at all. I couldn’t spot the morning sun and the bright blue sky which I would wake up to everyday; but when I looked out the window it was nothing but a dark gloomy sky. I saw tears sliding down my mom’s cheeks, gliding in a perfect row. It was a rare event to see my mom cry and I wasn’t much of the questioning type either. She quickly dressed me up and I simply didn’t contain the energy to protest against it.

I saw two large bags in front of my main door, the first thing that came to my mind was: we are leaving for Saudi Arabia. As a Saudi born with roots in Azad Kashmir, occupied by Pakistan, it was a good choice for my dad to send me to a Pakistani boarding school. As a five year old, I had no idea how the world functioned or what “boarding school” really meant.

My dad quickly dragged the two bags in the trunk of his car and kindly told me to get in. We drove along the rising sun but my mom’s tears would not leave my mind. I gently closed my eyes and before I knew it my dad gave me a little nudge to wake up, we had arrived at our destination. I steadily made my way out of the car and stretched my arms wide into the open blue sky.

My bags were dragged towards the entrance of this mysterious building. A man appeared out of the blue and asked for the papers. While he inspected the papers; I couldn’t help but notice his long black beard and his tree like structure. Suddenly something happened which scarred me for the rest of my life: he looked at me. This was no ordinary look, I felt as if I was nothing more than his test subject, blood no longer rushed through my body and bones no longer supported my small structure. I did not comprehend the strength to break to look away, I was being controlled by his tyrannical eyes. It was a battle of a cat and a mouse.

The gates were ordered to be opened and a cold breeze hit me in the face, my first step landed on a rubble of rocks which infiltrated my tiny shoes. My parents were behind me, I could always tell because I felt their warm presence near me.  I wanted to turn around and leave, there was no purpose of me being here, I was terrorized by the idea of taking another step into this mysterious place.

Than rapidly my back was as old as ice, my muscles shivered. As I turned around the bearded man with all his might stood his ground behind me and my parents were a few yards away. I kindly took a step away and proceeded to walk towards my parents assuming everything was fine but a sudden cold object grabbed me, his hand. His skin was rough and heavy as a rock.

I heard my mom burst out a loud scream, my father held her back and guided her towards the car. The man grabbed me by my waist, even though I jerked and yelled, my wimpy form was no match for his colossal structure. The gates were ordered to be shut but this time I was in the inside and my parents were outside. The gates were shut with a loud screech of a sound. I could still hear my mom screaming and shouting and then it was all gone, no sound, no nothing. All I could see was the dust clashing towards the gate and plummeting towards the ground.

The man carried me inside the building and sat me down on a bed along with my bags. I had a hard time breathing and didn’t dare to look up. I could hear the man rumbling through the papers and he finally spoke “As-salamu alaykum Seemab and welcome to Abbottabad boarding school”.

Just like that, I was introduced to a whole new world of pain and suffering. What they taught me was horrific: to ridicule every religion and culture, but to view ours as the most powerful and well established. Their ideology was to see ourselves as superior human beings, as a five year old boy I didn’t know what was right or wrong, thus I had no other option but to accept what they had to say.

When we moved to Canada, I was astounded to see how we were all equal, no matter what religion or ethnic background we held, we all got along. To witness such an experience was the most memorable thing in my life and over time, what that school had taught me washed away. Canada and its people have changed my train of thought and if I held the same ideology as my previous school, I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like.  Even though my previous school had many flaws, it still made me into the man I am today.