Last Words

I have been writing stories since kindergarten. Not cohesive novels or even completed worked or literature. Rather it was just me and my friends Lawrence would sit down during "journal time" and write stories about our toys. The two main characters were Froggy (A stuffed animal frog that Lawrence owned) and Ninja Master (A stuffed animal cat that I owned). These two had adventures so crazy it would make the sci-fi industry jealous. They went from planets to galaxies saving the innocent. They even teamed up with other toys we had lying around. The most interesting of these being Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer.

What started as innocent fun soon turned into a passion for writing that has carried me to now. I absolutely love writing stories. I used to read a lot and I used those books to help influence the way I wrote. The reason I loved writing so much was because what ever you could think of in your head could magically become real. You could make a city with 100 mile tall skyscrapers, or maybe a bus that flew using the grass for fuel. When writing the sky is not the limit, no the limit is your imagination.

Everybody can be a great writer or at least a fun one. All it takes is a few things:
1. Look at your surroundings- Everything in the world has a story, like the leaf that just glided across your window, or the the squirrel that scurries up the tree. See if you can write about it.
2. Remember things of your past that you may not have gotten over yet- This means things your may 'regret' or want to forget, because when you write about them you will talk about it passionately and that is the best way to write, from your heart. Also it might make you realize how silly the situation was in general.
3. Read Books- By reading books you can see what successful authors do and find a genre that may interest you.
4. Write- I know this one seems pretty straight forward, but all you have to do is write. Take 10-20 minutes out of your day and write about whats on your mind. It doesn't have to be a story, poem, or anything important. Just get used to writing and before you know it instead of spending 20 minutes you just spent 40.
5. Have fun- Yes yes, this is a cliche bit of advice but if you aren't having fun writing about what ever it is. Take a break, drink some tea, go for a walk, play some video games. Try to keep it to an hour or two but come back with a fresh mind and active brain (This is mostly for essays) if it's not an essay, just stop and try a different topic or take a break.

I don't know if any of these tips will be helpful but they have helped me write throughout my life. It has helped my pay attention to the present but at the same time remember my past. I don't like to delve into the future but maybe this year I'll write a story about that. Life is a blank page, you hold the pen, write a story.

The Best Nights

I just recently turned 17 and in little less than a year I'll be 18 and a legal adult. I'm as excited as I am nervous. The main reason for my excitement is because that date will be my golden birthday (golden birthday is when the date you were born corresponds with how old you are turning). I'll be turning 18 on the 18th of October of 2018 (a reason why my favorite number is 18). That isn't the reason for this post though, rather this a post wondering about the future but also remembering myself as a child and teenager. There are memories that happen in these years that I will be reminiscing over when my hair turns white. These are memories that my kids will be able to recite word for word because of my constant nagging of my past. 

The main stories I'm going to tell is about Friday nights and Saturday nights, just hanging out with my friends. Going to the movies, sitting in the very front row because we all were late and there weren't any seat in other places. Laughing, crying, and gagging at all the wrong times and spilling all of our popcorn on the floor (and sometimes on the person three seats away). As the lights turn back on we just sit there and soak in the moment, or just scream random things. We scuttle, hobble, and waddle out of the theater trying to wake up our legs, and then cry in pain as the bright lights bring us back to reality. We leave the building and head to the Dairy Queen across the parking lot. The ones who failed to bring the appropriate clothing for the chill night sprint to Dairy Queen and those that did just walk and complain. We enter the Dairy Queen and huddle by the soda machines, staring at the menu like baby birds look at their moms for food. We wait until the braver of us finally decide to talk to the person at the cash register and order their food. After each person orders we look for a table that could fit all of us. That usually means the long bench near the front windows. The process of eating the foods is an experience of its own. It involves french fries disappearing from someones tray, ice cream being thrown at someones sweatshirt, and like everything we do a lot of squeals. At the end of the night we scramble into cars and play rock paper scissors to not be in the car of the person who most recently got their license. We go to our houses, look into our wallets and wonder where the $50 we started with went. 

Believe it or not coming up with plans for the evening weren't a piece of cake. We usually had the idea to hang out a week previously but don't voice it until 2 hours before the movie begins. This leads to three possible options: A. We actually get a  plan together and go to the movie, B. We don't think we can  make it to the movie but we just got to someones house and hang out, and C. We just bail and never end up going out. Going back to the second option which was to hang at someones house. After we decide to hang out at someones house there is one small problem; who is going to sacrifice their for the storm we were going to create (something always ends up breaking). If that ever gets sorted out pizza is ordered and we head over to the house. You want to be one of the first people to the house because as soon as you're there it is open season on the pizza and other food. If you're last...unlucky that's natural selection. After we eat all we can, we sit in a circle and just do some face to face talking (with an exception to that one person who is being anti-social on their phone). We get bored quite quickly and go outside no matter how cold it is. Sometimes we go to Carle Park and play flashlight tag, or we just run around and climbed trees. After about 5 minutes we regret our decision of going outside. We run back inside and go and watch a movie or spend 45 minutes arguing what movie to watch and end up watching "Friends" or something. Around 10-11pm we all trickle home with a happy heart. 

These are the nights that are the best. These are the times remind me how lucky I am to have the friends I have. They're nights that I wish could last forever and give me a feeling inside that I never want to end. As we all get older we haven't been hanging out as much. In the next few years we will all go our separate ways across the country for college. We won't have the time for those nights. I guess there isn't any great way to end this but I believe you catch my drift. Hang out with your friends as much as you can before they all go away and you're the one sitting in front of your newly bought house wondering where the time went. I remember something Lisa told my history class earlier this year, It was something about if you aren't making time for your friends are they really your friends? Think that over, and have a nice night.

Game Day

My day starts the day before. That doesn’t make sense, but when there’s a game I start getting ready the day prior. I drink as much as I can to stay hydrated, I like to eat a lot the day before as well. Well that doesn’t really mean anything I like to eat at any point of any day for whatever reason I want. The next thing I do is get into the right mindset; I imagine myself in my perfect moment: Wet grass at my feet silently shifting because of a light breeze. My breathe fogs the air, as it bites back at my nose. The ball is one with my leg, doing everything that I want it to do, and the crowd cheering as loud as they can yet they sound like they are miles away. The team is depending on my and I won’t let them down. I do my homework and go to bed dreaming of the moment.

 My alarm begins to light up at 6:30 in the morning, mimicking a sun rise. At 6:45 exactly it begins to make the annoying continuous robotic beeping noise reminding me that I still have 9 and a half hours before my match. I slowly ooze out of my bed around 7:00, and with the speed of a tortoise begin to get ready for the morning. I inhale my breakfast, but then slow down to read the comics. It is then that I realize that I have approximately 8.5 minutes before I miss my bus. I rush upstairs brush my teeth, grab my bags and run out of my house hobbling with one foot attempting to put my shoes on. I catch the bus out of breathe and with my heart pounding but I can finally relax on the seat and enjoy the ride.

The school day seems to stretch into a "fortnite" as I wait anxiously for the early dismissal and the terrible bumpy yellow bus we have to take to get to the game. When the time finally arrives we all pile into a school bus, used to be charter but ya know...money, and yell at the JV to move to the front. The bus ride is full of cheerful chatter and "reeees", but it is all veiled with the eagerness all the players and I have fro the upcoming game. We arrive at the fields 20 minutes late and the other team has already been warming up for 10 minutes. We stampede onto the field claiming bench spots and changing. Then we warm-up and the game commences. 

After the game we go home on the bus, chipper and glad about the outcome, Isandro had scored a hattrick and Omeed probably hit the post. The sky is navy blue and the stars are shining by the time we arrive back at the back of kenny gym. When  I arrive at home I eat everything in the fridge and pet my cat. I end the day by showering and snuggling with my nice warm and comfy bed, before i dose into a sound sleep, unworried by the ominous chance that we might condition tomorrow. 

Trying New Food

Well, yes, I admit I messed up. I honestly tried to do it, I tried really hard. See, the thing about me is that I eat a lot, not just a lot of food, but a lot of different foods. I just couldn’t think of something that I haven’t eaten, well I could, but the things I could think of were really exotic, maybe swordfish, or kangaroo from the wildest  part of Australia, and for some reason I don’t think it would be possible to get those food items.  It was Saturday night and I was explaining to my friends about my struggle. One of them suggested that I eat a napkin. I start to smile, this was a great idea, I quickly take a white square but then a thought comes to me, I’ve already eaten a napkin before. I’ve already felt its papery texture, the way it sticks the roof of your mouth. I’ve felt it slowly dry my mouth, and leave an odd tasting residue, no a napkin is not going to work.

Great now I’m right where I started, wanting to taste something new. I would ask my parents but they were both busy, my mom was taking 9 medical tests, and my dad was somewhere I assume. I was tempted to go outside and grab some dirt, but the way I played as a child I was bound to eat it at some point. I hen thought about plucking a leaf from a plant, but then I realized once again, I’ve done that already. There was nothing left for me to do, I was lost. I went to bed thinking about all the foods I haven’t eaten, and all the weird things that I have.

It was Monday morning; I totally forgot about my homework, I ate my eggs absent-mindedly, wondering what would happen. That serenity wouldn’t last me the day though, because as soon as my shorts touching the carpeted seat of my bus, I realized I forgot. I stayed calm, in times like these people tend to panic, so I calmed down and thought, oh well, I’ll see if my friends have something for lunch. As lunch approached I walked outside, and one of my comrades was eating a hamburger. The burger was laughing at me, mocking me for not doing the work. This assignment was a lot harder than I thought it would be, I decided that I should give up and hope for the best.

I walked to Kenny Gym slowly, curious as to what we would do in class. I knew I didn’t eat a new food, but it was too late to fix that problem. When I walked in we split into two groups, one for those that did the work and one for those that didn’t. My teacher took me and the other classmates that couldn’t find anything to eat outside of the room, and handed us a piece of Dark chocolate. Yes, I’ve had chocolate, but I’m more of a milk chocolate kind of person. The Chocolate she gave us was 85% coco. I knew this was going to be an experience that I may live to regret.

Oh, and was I so right. In my hand it was a solid brick, it smelled of a rich flavor. I took a bite, my mouth dried up, as if someone had stuffed my mouth with flour. The taste rammed into my mouth, with the power of an ox. It was too much, I looked down, and I needed to finish it. I took another bite, my mouth was begging for me to stop, my taste buds had put their weapons down and surrendered to the rich chocolate taste. I lunged for the water fountain, hoping to drive the chocolate out, and banish it from my body. I slowly limped back into the classroom, slowly recovering from my near-death experience. I learned a valuable lesson that day, stick to what you know. Just kidding, it was great trying something new, and I can’t wait to do so again, just as long as it doesn’t taste like shit.

Don't Forget

Dear Zander
Hello  I'm writing this 16 years, 11 months, and 9 days from where you are right now. I know it's a lot to take in but the easiest way is just by simply opening your eyes and letting the light in. Yes, your house isn't much to look at but it's keeping you out of the rain that is pounding on the windows. The bed you were born on is old and lumpy and reflects the feel of the rest of the house. Yet it has its own beauty, get to know it as much as you can before you forget. In roughly 3 years your mother will take you to a new home. This home is going to be larger and has less holes in the wall. However, it won't be as beautiful as your old one. Even though life is moving continue to keep taking pictures with your eyes and your mind. Remember the lake, the cliff, and even the two dogs that were chained in the front yard and barked at you. Remember the new adults playing soccer with you, or your foster siblings playing in the water.

Over the year you will be talked to by many new people don't be shy it's all going to work out in the end. The fancy lady in a suit isn't scary even though she's as tall as the cliff down the road. She will take pictures of you, if you smile I promise they'll smile back. After a little bit the woman in the suit will take you to a new place to introduce you to some more new people. Make sure to give them each a big hug for me because they're your mother and brother and you'll grow to love them more then the world. Don't forget any of these moments, like the hotel room with 2 beds covered in white sheets, and a window that gave a view to the world. Don't forget the dirt road that the local market was taking place on or the smell of freshly made tortillas and pollo. All these days will go by in a flash and if you forget to take the pictures you're going to forget the introduction to your story.

The following years will involve you flying in a big airplane into a new world. One that promises you so much more then what you would have had back in Guatemala. You will once again have a new home, but this on has a backyard and more then one room. There are trees, new animals and sights, and best of all new people. You're going to be sent to a preschool that speaks your native language. I know I stress it a lot but please remember, remember those words the way the "r's" roll of your tongue and actually being able to hold a conversation. You will go to that school for 2 years before you begin Kindergarten.

The first day of Kindergarten will forever change your life for the better, because this is going to be the day you meet your best friend. You will walk right into class and he spots you and says "Hello, my name is Lawrence, want to be friends?" and it is dire that you accept because you'll be needing him. Make sure you keep remembering every moment of your life. Remember that right after nap time you race to the carpet but not too fast because you want to be third (third is the one with the treasure chest). The rest of elementary school you are going to find the rest of your best friends. Two of them it will take you years to figure out who is who, but the 4th you won't realize is one of them for a little bit longer.

Elementary school is going to fly by quickly and it is necessary that you remember the time you and Lawrence got into a fight with another person in 1st grade, and the promise you'll make that day that will live with you for the rest of your life "[I] Will never get into a fight again or hurt somebody on purpose". In middle school you will have the easiest academic years of your life but the hardest social years. You might think the only way to be liked is by being mean to other kids, or to stop talking to your other friends, this is so far from the truth. Being "popular" in middles school isn't worth losing your best friends. Don't forget the bus rides with the cross country team or the friends that will move away.

You will only have to be in Urbana Middle School for 2 years before you go to another school called Uni. Uni isn't going to be easy, you will struggle to keep your grades from failing and sometimes not be able to do it. But this is where my most important lesson comes in. If one day you forget everything, promise me, promise me that you won't forget this: You are not alone, even on the stormiest day there is always someone for you, to help you and console you. You are loved and will always be loved. I know some days it won't feel like this, it might feel like there is nothing and nobody but there is. They might not know you need them ask for them and they will be at your side. And remember that you are not the only one who sometimes feels like that, there are others and it is your job to make sure they know they are loved and not alone. Laugh, smile, joke, help them forget about  their sadness even if it's for a second it will help them a lot. Finally, don't regret and mistakes you have and will make. It will teach you a lesson you'll never forget. Have fun, you're going to do amazing things.

Love, Zander

The Name Game

 Alexander Cruz Higgs was not the name I was born with. Rather this starts the same way all the stories of my life start. With me not being in the United States, but rather in the small town of San Andres, El Petén, Guatemala. I was born into the world being called, Alexander Cruz Gutierrez, Cruz was my biological mothers middle name. The funny thing is that Gutierrez is one of the only Spanish words I can pronounce without sounding like the whitest person in the world. It flows off my tongue as if it was what I was meant to say. For the time being my name is Alexander Cruz Higgs

Names are weird things, we just look at something and call it by a name and all the sudden it has a place on our heart. The name then morphs into whatever has it. Meaning that when you hear that name you can immediately associate it with that person or thing and if it isn’t in reference to that specific object it really confuses you. Names usually come from a deep part of a person for example when a parent names their child they usually think of a name that has a significant meaning to them. Maybe after a relative, a specific moment, or a flower anything that brings happiness to them. The child would then have to live with whatever name is given to them, and start to change the past memories that were associated with the name and make new ones and redefine that name. That being said sometimes names just don’t belong to people.

For example, when I was first adopted my adoptive mother wanted to name me Zander. It’s hard for me to imagine this because I can only think of myself as Alexander, or Alex. Thinking that I could have had a different name completely changes what I think of the world. My name would have been way more unique, I am yet to meet another Zander, and I would never mistake my name for someone else’s. I am called Zander but that is only by my immediate family, and honestly, I wouldn’t mind if my really close friends called me it, but it’s a name that not everyone is allowed to use. It also doesn’t feel like my name, I didn’t do anything to earn it, I didn’t shape that name into a human being it is simply just a name that another child should get the choice to mold. I like Alexander.

The name Alexander is a strong and powerful name. Some of the most successful people that helped shape the world we lived in were named by that name. Alexander means “Defender of man” or “Protector of the People”. Most people don’t pay attention to the original meaning of one’s name. But if they were it might help them understand the person better. I personally believe I was named the right name, I like to do everything I can do to help people. Yes, I might not be fighting off waves and waves of aliens and saving the people of Chicago, but I think I do my part in protecting people. Even the simplest names have a deep meaning, like John for example means to be gracious. This is only on a first name basis though, on average people have 3 names: a first, middle, and Last. That doesn’t mean that everybody has 3. Some may have 4 and so on.

My middle name is Cruz. It is the only Hispanic name that identifies me as a Hispanic person in my opinion. I remember one date distinctly in elementary school. It was my birthday, October 18. And I had to get up early and dress up fancily get in the car and drive to Chicago. When this was happening to me I had no idea what was happening. My mother just gave me some clothes including a clip-on tie and she combed my hair. I got in the back seat with my brother and the black Toyota Echo was on the road. We arrived to what I assume was a court house and we went in. I sat in the lobby with my brother being bored out of my mind. My mom had told me in the car that I was going to be called in and they were going to ask me a few questions on including which middle name I wanted; Cruz or James. I didn’t understand the significance of this at the time but I knew I wanted to be called Cruz. My adoptive brother’s middle name was James and his had an “A” name as well so that would make the initials the exact same thing. I thought it would be cool to have the same name as my brother but when they asked me the question something inside me told me to say “Cruz” and that’s how Cruz is my middle name.

 This just leaves one more name that I have, my last name. The last name I have now isn’t too common, or at least not to my knowledge. I have never met another Higgs who isn’t in my family. Yes, there is this thing called the “Higgs Bosom” but I have never met the creator of that idea, and no I am not related to them. The only reason why I resent my last name is because it kind of gets rid the last bit of my ancestry. It was the last thing connecting me from the Guatemalan roots, but now it’s all gone. If I were to visit I would be known as “Mr. Higgs” and they would never think that I was born there. When I grow up and have kids of my own I want to give them Gutierrez, or give myself it. They are some of the most opposite names though. Higgs an uncommon English name and Gutierrez a common Spanish last name. 

That is the story of my name to my the best of my knowledge. Now I must ask, do you like your name? Would you change it? What's the story behind your name? Is there ever a name you hear and then just fall in love with it? 

KitKat Story

Here is some context for the story I’m going to tell you. Every year I go to this camp in northern Minnesota for a week in the middle of June. The camp is for people who are going into 7^th-12^th grade. The camp is associated with my religion, Unitarian Universalism. Unitarians come from all over the country to come to this camp.  The camp is on an island in one of the many lakes that Minnesota contains.

This year was my 5^th year of going to this camp, I only have one more left. The camp does an excellent job of keeping the same group of kids together throughout the years, in order for us to create a special bind that is hard to explain to others. My cabin, the juniors, had a big responsibility this year, we had to run most of the camp. We organized canteen (Snack in the middle of the day), and run the talent show at the end of the week. It was during canteen when this story starts:

It was Friday the last full day of camp before the campers headed back the next morning. This is a very emotional time for the campers. The Junior class was organizing the canteen in unique shapes to make it interesting but it was hard because throughout the week they were running out of candy and drinks to give the campers. There were half stars of Snickers, unfinished pyramids of Nerds, and other variety of candies scattered around. Campers were already lining up anxiously, hoping that they were get something to eat. One camper came up to one of the Juniors and asked him to save her a KitKat. Those two had a connection throughout the week but never did anything about it. The Junior said he would, so he snuck a KitKat into his pocket and hid it from others.

After all the candy was scavenged and picked to the bone all the campers had to head to their cabin and begin cleanup. Sometimes campers keep their candy to give to the inspectors who come by to make sure the cabin is cleaned up. The Junior who had the KitKat in his pocket forgot about it as he was cleaning his cabin with his cabinmates. He only realized it was still in his pocket when felt the squish of melted chocolate in his sweatpants pocket. He decided it would be best to put it in the freezer to try and solidify the chocolate. He left it there to freeze over dinner and the talent show.

After the talent show and the cabin meeting the junior went and fetched the KitKat from the cabin. He then went in search of the other camper. He first went to the cabin next door which was full of people but he couldn’t find here there, so he went down to the dock. The dock was barren, cold, and slightly intimating with the cry of the loon out in the water. He decided to head back to the cabin and hang out with friends assuming that he would meet up with her sometime during the night. The special thing about the last night of camp is that there is no curfew the campers were allowed to go anywhere and stay up all night.

Each year the seniors of the camp have a project they work on. Like fixing up the sidewalks, building a shelter of some kind. This year the seniors fixed up the rotten gazebo. The repainted it, built new benches for it, and even put lights in it. They finished it earlier that day, the Junior was eager to see it but he didn’t want to go alone, so he went he asked the group of people if anyone wanted to go with him but only one person said they wanted to. The person who answered was the girl. The one who had asked from the KitKat. They went down together, tripping in the dark, running into spider webs, but they finally made it.

In the Gazebo, they struggled to find the light switch and see how beautiful it actually was. They had both failed to bring flashlights, and then decided to leave and grab on of the lantern that was staked into the ground and used it as a torch. After fumbling around, they found the switch for the Gazebo and stood in awe of the lights and the newly refurbished building. It was at this time that the Junior decided it was an appropriate time to give her the KitKat. Granted it had been in his pocket for an hour so it had started to melt again.

Skip through the night they stayed up all night walking through camp talking and really having enjoyed themselves. In the end both of them succumbed to need to sleep and fell asleep on the dock. They woke up to the sun rising, turning the water to an orange color. They parted one went to Kansas and the other home.