Open up Your Wings of Glass..

Open up Your Wings of Glass..:

'via Blog this'

2012

I want to start enjoying my life.

I don’t want to be sad for noo reason. I hate it.

I want someone who I can talk to…without feeling like a burden. Someone who I can trust. Just someone.

I just want to stop feeling like shit. I want help.

I want to stop feeling alone.

I remember the first time I saw her cry…it was devastating.

Now it’s just another day.

Alternate Ending to The Monkey’s Paw (W. W. Jacobs)

(Starting at the point the father receive the monkey's paw.)

Hah! Monkey's paw, huh? Of course it's not real, but there's no shame in trying it out anyways right? What to wish for, what to wish for...? Of course I can't be greedy, but then, I can't pass up an opportunity like this. If the wishes do end up coming true, everyone will want a wish! “So...?” I looked up, and smiled. “ Three hundreds pounds should do us well, right?” My son looked at me, displeased. “That's all? You can have anything father!” I laughed, does he really believe in this? “Son, there's no need to be greedy.” He thought for a moment, sighed and looked at me. “Your right father. So what are you waiting for? Wish for three hundred pounds!” I held up the paw and uttered the words, “I wish for three hundreds pounds.” After a few seconds I smiled and laughed, “Ha! I knew it wouldn't work. I can't believe I believed it, even for a second.” Wait. Did I just imagine that? I could have sworn I saw one of the primitive fingers move. “Father? Father, are you okay?” Asked my son, worriedly. I looked up and flashed the best smile I could manage. “Y-yeah. I was just thinking of the three hundred pounds I won't get.” I chuckled, still thinking of the paw.

I couldn't sleep. The sergeant major left hours ago, but I still felt an odd presence. I've never felt so strange in my own home, and I knew what the foreign object was. I stared at the Monkey's Paw, waiting for it to move. I had to know that I wasn't crazy. Move already! Blackness. There was pressure surrounding me, I couldn't breathe. I struggled to pry the paw from my face. A crashing sound rang through my ears and I felt a sharp blow to the head. I was on the floor. Suddenly, there was a blinding light and the paw was resting in my hands. “Father? Father! Are you okay?! Why are you on the floor?” I looked up at my wife and quickly hid the monkey's paw. Turning around I discovered the crashing sound, a bronze lamp, stained glass, ironically stained our floor. I stood up, carefully avoiding the glass. I looked up at my wife sheepishly, “Heh. I must have had a bad dream.” That must be it. I'm really going crazy.

“So still no money, eh?” Herbert question jokingly. “I wouldn't be surprised if it dropped on your head while you're on your way to work.” I joked back. I was answered with a loud chuckle.

I walked back to the kitchen, although I was exhausted, I was still excited to eat. Instead of being greeted with food, my wife ran up to me horrified. “Father! There's someone outside our door!” I sharply turned my head towards the door. And of course, there was someone pacing outside our door. Although it wasn't spoken, we were both thinking the same thing: three hundred pounds. Was this the thing the sergeant major had warned us about? That someone will come and murder us in cold blood? After what seemed like days of waiting, the man had knocked. I hadn't expected it, but I spontaneously walked to the door and answered. “Hello...um...Are you Mr. and Mrs. White?” We nodded our heads in unison. “I...I'm so sorry but your son was in an accident.” My eyes widened. “Herbert?! What happened?! Where is he?” My wife frantically look for answers. “He was...he was caught in some machinery. I'm so sorry.” I glanced at my wife, and I knew she was gone, gone to a far off world. “But,” the man continued, “of course we are very sorry. Your son has done a fine job working for us.” He pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket. “Normally we would give two hundred pounds as compensation.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “But Herbert has been such a fine asset to our workplace. I hope three hundred could at least take some burden of your shoulders. He handed me the envelope and was quick to leave.

“Father!” I sat up sharply, feeling dizzy but looked at my wife to see what was wrong. To my surprise, she was smiling. “I can't believe I didn't think of this before!” I looked at her, confused. “The Monkey's Paw! We can wish him back!” I shook my head frantically, “n-no! Do you really think that will work? It was all just a coincidence.” She got up and ran to the door, but turned around once more to say, “You made the wish to kill, make the wish to bring him back.

The paw was shoved to my face, “wish!” I took it and looked at my wife, hopeful that I could still convince her. “Wish! Wish!” I closed my eyes, held the paw up and uttered the words, “I wish for my son back.” Knock! Knock! Knock! My heart skipped a beat. So fast?! I once again looked at my wife, the biggest smiled laid on her lips. “Herbert! Father! It's Herbert!” She bolted for the door, but I held her back, “Please don't go!” I begged. She mercilessly snatched her arm away, “Are you scared of your own son?!” Yes. “Herbert I'm coming!” What do I do? I thought. The Monkey's Paw! I had to get it, I still had one more wish. I sprinted down the stairs, passed my wife, to the paw lying on the table. I held up the paw, ready to make the wish, when the paw suddenly disappeared from my grasp. “What are you doing?!” My wife screamed. “We can't do this! I have to wish him away!” Her eyes widened, “He's my son. He's your son!” I reached for the paw, but she kept it out of my grasp. She looked at me and held it up. What is she doing? “I wish-” “It won't work.” She smiled mischievously at me. Curiously, I watched. It won't work anyways. “I wish that my son couldn't be wished away.” Nothing. Nothing happened. I leaped for the paw, but again it was out of reach, she was already at the door. “No! Stop!” But I was too late, the door was opened and a monster was revealed, no matter what I still had to wish him away. My wife was in shock of seeing her deformed son. I took the paw and held it up, “I wish-” My words were gone, once again, I couldn't breathe. My son's suddenly sharp hands engulfed my neck. “St-stop!” I looked at my wife, she looked back, still in a daze. This is what she wished for.

A Look Back

I guess it all started in the 1900’s. My great-grandfathers, on my father’s side, had just came to Thailand. One of my great-grandfathers had migrated from Southern China to Northern Thailand, which is known as Chiang Mai. He came alone, but soon he fell in love with a beautiful Thai women, also known as my great-grandmother. He spent his years in Thailand as a professional watchmaker. A few years later, they had a daughter,who will later be my grandmother.  My other great-grandfather, from my father's side migrated from Eastern India. His story is a bit more interesting. He was a merchant from India, who came to sell in Thailand often. Soon enough, he also fell in love with a beautiful Thai women, my great-grandmother. And they soon had a son, who will later be my grandfather

In 1972, my father, Visai Netisingha, immigrated, by himself to Chicago. Illinois. His father, (my grandfather) had already immigrated here. The first time my dad came to America, he had to sit in the airport for three hours, waiting for my grandfather to come pick him up. My father was nineteen years old at the time! I can't imagine, being a teenager, and having to move to a new country.

In 1980, my mother came to Chicago, Illinois from Bangkok. My brother came too, he was only two years old. Let's just say that my mother's first day in America didn't go smoothly. That first night my mother watched The Exorcist! I think I now know why my mom loves horror movies so much. That night my mother couldn't sleep, not because she was in a new country, but because she watched The Exorcist. My mother knew basic English before coming to America. But when she came, she began to improve her English by watching the show, Sesame Street! It might sound funny, but at the same time, I think it's awesome!

In 1993, my mother started working for my father in his fast food restaurant in Chicago. My mother was married to my older brother's dad. And she also had my older sister. I wasn't born yet. But a few years later, my parents fell in love. The first time my parents kissed each other, my mother was eating a polish sausage. Her lips were really greasy, and she said, "do you want to kiss me?" and my father did just that! My father ran to his office, and came back later. His lips were still greasy! That was the first time, my parents kissed. Isn't that romantic? When asking them about their first kiss, they went back to their playful ways! It really was a sight to see, my mom getting excited and thinking of old times and my dad pretending not to remember them. Although, he tried to keep a straight face, I can tell that he was thinking of old times too. When I look at my parents, and the story of their meeting, it almost makes me jealous. I do hope that one day, I can be as happy as they are. My parents have been through many tough times, but they still love each other.

In 2005, I was 9 years old, me and my family worked at the flea market. We would get up at four o'clock in the morning and get ready to go sell at the flea market. I think that it was named, Wolf Flea Market. Although, it was a very hard time for us. I didn't even notice at the time! I have had so much fun there, and made so many friends (many way older than me), that I didn't notice and didn't care. The only thing I thought was hard was having to get up so early. When I was talking to my dad about this he told me a story about the one thing he will never forget. He the told me about one day when, I was selling our merchandise at the flea market. He was half asleep, sitting in the back while I was selling. We did this all day, and by the end of the day I had made 3,000 dollars! Ever since going to the flea market and buying and selling there, I have applied my skills learned there to my everyday life. I know how to bargain, buy, and most of all sell! In fact, I still love doing it. Things are way easier now, and me and my dad are now on the other side of the bargaining table. Every Sunday, me and my dad drive downtown and go walk around the Maxwell street flea market. We often see old friends from Wolf Flea Market, still selling the same old things. It's strange for me, to not be selling at a flea market, even after all these years. I have learned a lot from working at the Wolf Flea Market. I have learned how to spend five dollars and get a box full of stuff. How to sell everything, from tools to perfume and cologne to key chains.

Do you remember the restaurant my parents met in? Yeah well, for a while, we lived there. And I worked there too. For a while, my mom, dad, and I lived on the floor above our restaurant. I will never forget the big black couch that we had there. I used to sleep in it all the time. I will never forget, going into the big walk-in freezer and carrying out the bags of fries everyday. Or getting the soda pop for the customers’ orders. Of course good things don’t last forever. A couple of years ago, we had to stop going because of the bad neighborhood and the business going down. Although I miss it greatly, there were many things I did not like about it. Since it was a fast food restaurant, I was often eating junk food, for almost every meal. I much rather be eating healthier food at home. Besides the bad neighborhood, the number one thing that I did not like that I almost never got to eat dinner with my family. I didn’t really get to sit down at a table, at home, and eat dinner. I had to go to the restaurant after school, and we didn’t get home until nine o’clock at night. I had to eat at work, and go right to bed when we got home. It wasn’t a fun time. But, just like everything else, we got through it. We have a good life, I am going to a going to a good school, and we have dinner together everyday. Sometimes you have to work hard to get the good things in life.

In 2008, I came to Saint Odilo School. While all my other friends went to Unity Jr. High, my parents decided against it and brought me to my cousin's old school. It wasn't my first choice however, my first choice was Ascension School, which was my sister's grade school. But there was not enough room for me so I went to Saint Odilo. I was devastated! I couldn't believe that I would never see my old friends ever again. The first few weeks were hard, even though I was welcomed with open arms, I pushed them away. I remember thinking, "my only friends are at Roosevelt." A short while later, I gave in. I've never been to a school like Saint Odilo. It was too hard not to not feel welcome. After Odilo, I kind of realized that my Roosevelt friends were as great of friends as I thought. I still see them today, but they do not recognize me anymore. Saint Odilo has changed my life and made me a better person. I have never been this confident. I remember graduation clearly, I cried so hard I had a headache. I was one of the first people to cry. At that night I remember something my teacher said. He said that I knew exactly how great this school was, because I had been to another school. Those words are very true. I have met some amazing people there, one of them is my bestest friend in the whole world. Daisy Napoles. I have a feeling that Fenwick has the same potential. And I really do look forward to the next four years here at Fenwick High School. I'm really excited.

The last event on my timeline is 2010. Yes, the whole year, because I will never forget this year. This is the year I went to Washington D.C, graduated eighth grade, got into Fenwick High School, started high school, and many other things. The week I went to Washington DC, I had so much fun with my friends. It was the first time without my parents and it was great. As previously said, graduation was immensely sad. Though I still talk to all of my friends, I still miss seeing them everyday. I hope that I will stay friends with everyone in the Saint Odilo Class of 2010. When I found out that I got into Fenwick, I was freaking out! My letter had come later than all of my friends. I was so impatient, but later on, I completely forgot about it and decided that I didn’t care anymore (even though I really did). I had just come out of school and my dad was sitting in the car smiling. I got in the car, about to ask him why he was smiling but then I saw the package, sitting right in front of me. I almost screamed. Almost. I noticed that it was a big package and I began to get optimistic, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to be let down. I remember thinking that Fenwick was the only place to go. There was no other school for me. I took a big risk, I had no other backup school. I opened the package, read the letter and almost started to cry. I got in. I made it. I remember after that going to the Post Office by my school and taking pictures and everything! It really was a memorable day. 2010 was also my first year of high school. Obviously, it was at Fenwick High School. I came home and started crying. I missed all my old friends. But now, everything is going fine and I like Fenwick more and more everyday.

I hope to look at this four years from now and be able to add ten more pages! And twenty years from then and twenty or thirty more. I will adding more to this as I live my life.

ifeel so stupid…

you know that feeling when you think someone is your friend????

well ive been doing that…

for a whole school…

for three years.

 

it wasnt that

they werent my real friends

or that they dont remember me:/

or that they dont want to talk to mee

that bothered me.

 

the thing that bothered me is that my used-to-be best friend is closer to them than iam..shes only known them for 5months…

itseems like the whole world is against meee

 

idont know what to do anymore…no one to talk toooo…no more strength to do anything(exceptt writee)

idont feel like talking to anyone..just stayign at home

i dont even feel likegetting outta bed…

 

Ineed some inspirationnnn…