retaliation

You've probably heard a lot of stuff about me on Brandons page well some are true and some aren't any way I thought I would do a little number on him for instance he think that the vowels are part of social studies and that he cant spell said without switching the a and i. head in a toilet . Lets see what else ah when he gets up in the morning he walks out of the room and first thing he dose is put a log in the toilet the size of an elephants ear and leaves the door wide open in which if any one is still asleep from all the grunting and farting of a 10:00 dump they are now wide awake from the overwhelming stench of the fusion of poop and Lysol no the Lysol dose not penetrate the odor.

BLT

February 15, the day after valentines day and my best day this year and it all started in tutoring.
as I was sitting patiently waiting for my assignment in tutorials today my friend Aaron asked a question, that question was "you think we can have seconds."

"Wow" I thought maybe the only reason hes here are for these turnovers later I found out he was talking about the donuts but enough about that. Anyway the bell finally rang and I was off to first period. not much happened we did some O.E.Rs but that was it nothing really happened until seventh .

In seventh period which is my ROTC class my chief told me something very exciting that I knew I just had to blog about he was giving me the chance to go to BLT this summer and no I'm not talking about a burger. No this is a basic leadership program that only a handful of kids get to go to every year all i have to do is pass the next pt test sounds easy right well I wish it was. Well thats all for now Ill keep you posted.

Fourth Down

“Set, hut!” my thirteen year old brother, Brandon, hiked the ball. As tight end, Britton and I ran our favorite play, the rollout. We saw Sebastian coming in for a strong sac on our vulnerable quarterback and knew that we had to do something.

It was fourth down and the score was twenty-six to a mere eighteen. We were going to have to make this touch down if we ever wanted to tie up the game.

As Sebastian drew nearer and nearer, we fell back and prepared for war. The pigskin flew through the blue, cloudless sky, slugging me brutally in the chest. Gulping as much air as physically possible, we put our plan into action.

Britton covered two of the boys as I continued down the field as fast as my legs would go. In twenty seconds I was half way there and then, I was on the ground just five yards from first down. Sebastian had tackled me with a spear that had the strength of a tornado barreling through a trailer park.

I had never felt such anger. He made me feel as if a flame had ignited and was spreading through my body. As he stood, I gave him a sinister look that only the devil himself could match and walked the field. Dead silence.

Kickoff! And the players were charging. With all my speed and strength I slammed through the players and continued with my focus dead set on Sebastian. With a burst of energy, the fire was released and Sebastian was locked in my sight. Coming for him, I felt like a torpedo moving purposely through water, its current driving it forward and locking it on a target that had nowhere to go.

We collided; Sebastian went into the air and came down with huge crack. His collar bone and left rib had thrown him helplessly into a world of pain. As I stared at him, trying to hold back his tears, I felt something foreign to me until that moment, pity. As his mother ran out, I fought to gain control of my emotions and backed away, horrified at what I had done. I was strong physically but had no control over myself mentally. Fear overcame me as I wondered who I was, what else I was capable of.

Sebastian’s mom continuously tried to calm me saying things like, “It’s going to be OK,” and, “it’s not your fault,” but I couldn’t get over hurting my best friend. I promised myself that from that day forward, I would never use anger in a game again. Kneeling beside him, I told my friend two little words that aren’t said often enough, “I’m sorry.”

I visited him daily. We played video games, looked at magazines and as he got stronger, took walks through the neighborhood. Finally he was better and we continued where we left off that day in the field. It was first down and the score was twenty-six to eighteen.