The Story of my Hardships(revised)
Original
When I visited the eye doctor one average day, my legs swinging above the ground as I sat on a chair, I came out knowing I’d have glasses. The only redeeming factor was a little airplane on the frame of the glasses, but once my glasses were ready, the airplane was gone, along with my excitement. Even though I was the only one in my school with glass in front of my eyes, I convinced myself that it made me look cool.
First Grade
During recess one hot day my glasses slipped off and next, I heard a crunch. They barely noticed or cared, and I told myself broken glasses made me look cool.
Second Grade
After my eyes received help, my teeth needed help. After visiting the dentist on just another normal day, with my feet just barely grazing the ground as I sat in another chair, I came out with metal on my messy teeth. Life kept on trying to take my childhood away, and that was something I couldn’t get help for, no matter what the price was.
Third Grade
While playing soccer one hot day, the sweat triggered my eczema, causing red spots all over my body. Someone called me chicken pox. Another said I look like a mess. I started to realize that I had to quit soccer. Joining basketball, I faced the laughter of all my peers. No one wanted to guard me, and no one wanted to touch me. They didn’t even want to pass the ball to me, thinking I would infect the ball. I balled up my hands, wanting to take action, but I decided that I didn’t want to spread negativity.
Fourth Grade
When I visited the dentist on a normal day, I got news that something needed to be done about my underbite. I woke up the next day, twisted and pained, with thick rubber bands connecting my teeth to a gear that goes on my head.
After a whole week I decided that I wouldn’t let life limit what I do. I realized that it was just some stupid metal frame that blocks the middle of my sight. As I was reminded of the fun in playing basketball, I tripped, fell, then heard a snap. With no one offering a single hand, I helped myself up.
Fifth Grade
When I visited the doctor on a normal day after buying several long-sleeved shirts and long pants, I was told no gluten, berries, wheat, or eggs. I didn’t care, as I’d eaten them before. I rejected the advice. I didn’t care. I ate all the raspberry cakes in existence, and nothing happened.
Sixth Grade
When I visited the dentist on another ordinary day, I came out with a numb lip, a red paper towel, and a small box containing two teeth. My dad told me this would be the last time.
Seventh Grade
When I visited the dentist on an average day, I came out with an instruction manual and a stream of tears powered by anger because of the box containing six teeth. I asked him if this would be the last time, and an unsure shrug was followed a few weeks later by a laser chain surgery, where I added two more teeth to the collection. At the end of the year, I’ve reached 13 free teeth before I even turned 13.
Eighth Grade
My mom teased me and called me a shark, as I used to have two layers of teeth. With the second layer pulled out, I was a normal human being again, but the shark came surfing back.
“Did a shark bite you?” A little kid about the age I was when I got glasses came up to me, pointing at my neck.
I explain, “No buddy, I just have something where I scratch myself a lot.”
“Don’t spread it to me!”
Footsteps. A back against me. It hurt more the other needle surgery the day before. Sometimes it’s the innocence that hurts the most.
Ninth Grade
I stare up at the screen: “Expected removal: 3/21/19. Month 27 of 24 complete.” It’s a morning appointment, meaning that something big is happening. I process the idea of going to the first day of high school without any help for my teeth.
They begin by taking the wire out, but they stop. The glue doesn’t come off, the dentist doesn’t try. Something is off.
After an hour, I’m met with darkness. The screen shines with something new: “Expected removal: 6/25/20. Month 0 of 12 complete.” I look at my dentist.
“Time for phase two!”
The Story of my Hardships
KindergartenWhen I visited the eye doctor one average day, my legs swinging above the ground as I sat on a chair, I came out knowing I’d have glasses. The only redeeming factor was a little airplane on the frame of the glasses, but once my glasses were ready, the airplane was gone, along with my excitement. Even though I was the only one in my school with glass in front of my eyes, I convinced myself that it made me look cool.
First Grade
During recess one hot day my glasses slipped off and next, I heard a crunch. They barely noticed or cared, and I told myself broken glasses made me look cool.
Second Grade
After my eyes received help, my teeth needed help. After visiting the dentist on just another normal day, with my feet just barely grazing the ground as I sat in another chair, I came out with metal on my messy teeth. Life kept on trying to take my childhood away, and that was something I couldn’t get help for, no matter what the price was.
Third Grade
While playing soccer one hot day, the sweat triggered my eczema, causing red spots all over my body. Someone called me chicken pox. Another said I look like a mess. I started to realize that I had to quit soccer. Joining basketball, I faced the laughter of all my peers. No one wanted to guard me, and no one wanted to touch me. They didn’t even want to pass the ball to me, thinking I would infect the ball. I balled up my hands, wanting to take action, but I decided that I didn’t want to spread negativity.
Fourth Grade
When I visited the dentist on a normal day, I got news that something needed to be done about my underbite. I woke up the next day, twisted and pained, with thick rubber bands connecting my teeth to a gear that goes on my head.
After a whole week I decided that I wouldn’t let life limit what I do. I realized that it was just some stupid metal frame that blocks the middle of my sight. As I was reminded of the fun in playing basketball, I tripped, fell, then heard a snap. With no one offering a single hand, I helped myself up.
Fifth Grade
When I visited the doctor on a normal day after buying several long-sleeved shirts and long pants, I was told no gluten, berries, wheat, or eggs. I didn’t care, as I’d eaten them before. I rejected the advice. I didn’t care. I ate all the raspberry cakes in existence, and nothing happened.
Sixth Grade
When I visited the dentist on another ordinary day, I came out with a numb lip, a red paper towel, and a small box containing two teeth. My dad told me this would be the last time.
Seventh Grade
When I visited the dentist on an average day, I came out with an instruction manual and a stream of tears powered by anger because of the box containing six teeth. I asked him if this would be the last time, and an unsure shrug was followed a few weeks later by a laser chain surgery, where I added two more teeth to the collection. At the end of the year, I’ve reached 13 free teeth before I even turned 13.
Eighth Grade
My mom teased me and called me a shark, as I used to have two layers of teeth. With the second layer pulled out, I was a normal human being again, but the shark came surfing back.
“Did a shark bite you?” A little kid about the age I was when I got glasses came up to me, pointing at my neck.
I explain, “No buddy, I just have something where I scratch myself a lot.”
“Don’t spread it to me!”
Footsteps. A back against me. It hurt more the other needle surgery the day before. Sometimes it’s the innocence that hurts the most.
Ninth Grade
I stare up at the screen: “Expected removal: 3/21/19. Month 27 of 24 complete.” It’s a morning appointment, meaning that something big is happening. I process the idea of going to the first day of high school without any help for my teeth.
They begin by taking the wire out, but they stop. The glue doesn’t come off, the dentist doesn’t try. Something is off.
After an hour, I’m met with darkness. The screen shines with something new: “Expected removal: 6/25/20. Month 0 of 12 complete.” I look at my dentist.
“Time for phase two!”
Lyric(s) of the Post: All of the other reindeer
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any reindeer games
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any reindeer games
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say
"Rudolph, with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Santa came to say
"Rudolph, with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Then how the reindeer loved him
As they shouted out with glee
"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
You'll go down in history"
As they shouted out with glee
"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
You'll go down in history"
-Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer
that is so sad :'(
ReplyDeletebtw this is really well-written
Deleteyeah my sister helped edit some stuff
Delete