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May 2014
I always wanted to be that girl, the girl with the long locks with tips that curled, locks that tumbled down her shoulders in a sea of strawberry blonde. That girl who had a shock of Caribbean blue eyes, and you could get lost staring into them. Her face was the equal of any storybook princess. I always wanted to be that girl who sauntered down the hall with all eyes on her, her fragrant of zest and lemons pervading the room. The girl all of the guys chased after, and stood in that same invidious position that aroused envy in the coveting eyes of others. The report card brought home was a chain of straight A’s and her parent’s never had disappointment scrawled across their beaming faces (so unlike mine). She wore her smile like she wore bracelets on her wrist and gained the adoration of teachers since second grade. Oh, how I wish I was that girl. How I wish I was just like her.
But no, reality defeated me. I was always the kid who sat in the very back of the class, her head swimming with thoughts that could never be true. I walked alone, among a whole ’nother world that belonged of my own. I sat at my desk, eyes staring out blankly with one hand under my chin, and was soon lost in a sea of my own imagination. My innocence was palpable, evident in every move; all I thought about was the marvels of the wondrous possibilities. A tall chair that manifested out of thin air, I kindly took a seat and surveyed everything that traversed across keen eyes. The world beamed radiantly upon me and everybody would soon know the  covert talents I obtain. Nobody knew my fervor in the arts, nor were they aware of my sumptuous world. All I’ve ever been was the ‘quiet girl in the back’, but they don’t know the thoughts that swam in my mind.
Friends tell me ‘Get your oblivious head out of that world and into the stupid game called reality.’ Mom says, ‘You can’t find your socks in the sock drawer.’ Lil’ Bro goes, ‘You didn’t save me that cookie!’ Then Dad hollers, ‘Alice Wake Up!’ every morning.
I was never the perfect daughter, ideal sister, teacher’s pet, and I wake up late on mornings but I’m still testing out my wings and one day I’ll be able to fly. I’ll make sure of it. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m working on it and someday I’ll exceed her, being the closest thing to perfection you can get. I need to stop saying ‘one day’ and start saying ‘I will.’
I’m not who y’all think I am; just some crazy girl with a crazy imagination. Dreaming is your first baby step, and if you can’t dream, where else can you begin? Still, I wonder when my innocence will be shattered; maybe it already has. Until then, I’m still endeavoring to become just like her.
(Written in 8th grade)
Dreamer
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Dreamer
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       Mike Essig, ---, Arlo Disarray, Dreamer, --- and 14 others
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