Writing. This has been pretty much all I´ve done in break, before bedtime. Who knows me, knows writing is what defines me, it’s what I love to do. I started writing in 2nd grade, short stories but the best ones ever. My stories could come to life, or at least that’s how I remember it. I lived inside all those magical fairy tale stories and all those creepy and terrifying worlds. I wrote about aliens, and fairies, to monsters, and unicorns, I even fought the bad and saved people from gigantic potatoes with a laser in their eyes that destroyed everything in their way. Yeah I know, I truly have an imagination. To me it didn’t matter whether my story was a fairytale story, terror, superhero, or even adventure story, all of them had one thing in common; helping people was the major goal. I remember the first award I received for my writing was also back in the 2nd grade Every student in our class had to write a story, about how they thought La Paz came to be such a wonderful school and how it started. Every grade was supposed to choose one story out of all of them to represent the grade and read out loud in front of the entire student body, teachers and parents. I really don’t remember if it was writing, reading or poem day, all I remember was standing in front of that big crowd and reading my story as proudly. This was the first time, I ever felt I was meant for something. I don’t necessarily write for others, I really just write for myself, to understand how I feel and to hopefully one day help others as well.
I started writing more and more as I grew up, Mr. Dodge would always say ‘Write from the heart like you always do’’. In fourth grade, I decided writing longer stories, but these were different. They had real life experiences and tried to transmit a feeling across. I remember choosing to write in english and not in my native language. There was something about english that just made my writing even more special, I guess I just liked the sound of it, it sort of sounds like a sweet melody. As I kept growing up, I discovered myself and my personality even more, in 7th grade my writing got, even more, deeper and had many meanings. This year I started my first book ‘Promise me Forever’’ which is a very powerful story and in many ways related to my life. This book was mostly inspired in my best friend Luna’s story, she committed suicide a couple of years ago and so through this book, I wanted to tell her real story and how important she was to me. As I kept growing up I started to get more into reading, I love books! I for some reason I got so obsessed with Steph King, J. K. Rowling, John Green, Isabel Allende, and Gabriel Garcia Márquez, and of course, I could never leave behind my forever true love since kinder Dr. Seuss books. Now, in the 8th grade, I met Miss. Amy Snodgrass my English teacher at that time, and she drove me towards poetry. We would write poems almost every week and even read ‘the poem of the day’’ At the beginning trust me I wasn’t happy about it, I wasn’t really a fan. Not until the end of 8th grade, after learning so much and actually writing so many poems. And then one day, I just couldn´t stop writing poems, I wrote them eating breakfast, in the shower, in my free time, during lunch, before bed, I even dreamed about them and I would wake up and jot those thoughts before I’d forget. I honestly stopped counting how many writing journals I have because they are way too many. This break I took my time to read over some of those journals, all since first grade Melanie to 11th grade me. After reading all of them, I burst into tears, It was like I relived my entire life in two hours. It was beautiful and I was so proud of the growth I have made over the years not only as a student, but a friend, a sister, a daughter, a cousin, an aunt, and a caring and loving person. That’s how powerful writing is, it has been my best friend and has been there for me in the best and in the worst of times. All my memories are trapped in those journals, and one day it will be time to share them with the world… I just didn’t think it would be soon enough though, Miss. Amy asked me to perform a spoken word in the next coffee house. We will put some phrases of my poems and make a beautiful spoken word to share.
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