(Hi classmates: I was having a problem logging into the website, so I posted my article in a comment.)
The Unspoken Principle
“Mom I can’t act like its okay. I’m only thirteen years old,” I said
“He is you brother. You have to forgive him,” she said.
That’s what you always say I thought.
The rays of the morning sun had not fully penetrated the gloomy overcast like the weather man had predicted. Above my head were a group of birds whistling sweet melodies where I was seated on a green bench waiting for the building to open. The building was intriguing because it did not resemble a typical public library. It was constructed like an ancient Greek building where scholars would translate and transcribed important text about their history. Standing near the entrance of the building was a young girl and her mother who were laughing every so often like there was an inside joke that only people who already had job experience knew. In the corner of my eye, I saw a guy walking up the stairs to the library who had also attended the SYEP (Summer Youth Employment Program) training workshops. He was dressed in a shirt and tie like a postman with his manila envelope in his hand. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they were there for.
The doors finally opened and we entered the building. Walking alone into this building was strange without my mother because everyone else was accompanied by their parents. When we entered the main lobby of the library we were told that our parents could not be part of the orientation meeting. I felt satisfied seeing the parents escorted to another corner of the library. After the parents mouthed the words “good luck” to their children, we all walked to a small table with pieces of papers that had our names in titles that began like Mr. or Ms….. The library supervisor walked in and gave a brief description of what it means to work in a professional public organization. Then, our site supervisor told us that we would have pay close attention to the library supervisor regarding our duties at the library because she would receive an evaluation of our behavior each week.
After this formal introduction, we were taken into the break room and given our uniform. Then, the site supervisor told us quietly that, “if we had any problem with any employee or with our supervisor, we should contact her immediately.” She was very polite to us, and every time she smiled her face would create two dents in the side of her cheeks.
After our site supervisor left, the library supervisor informed us that that we would be trained by a more experienced employee for three days, then we would need to work on our own. Throughout the day, I had struggled with the responsibilities because I had to reshelf books that were brought in by patrons, organize specific book sections, and maintain a clean play area for the younger children. The day was longer than I expected and my feet were hurting me. Then, I heard a strange voice say, “Great job Sergio,” when I signed my time sheet, so I smiled, and said my formal, “Thank you.” I left work satisfied and ran home to tell my mom about my first day of working at the library, even though Cain would receive all the attention for coming home late as usual because he broke his curfew. However, I had stories that would transform the experience at the library into an odyssey that would grab the interest one anyone.
The next day I returned to work at8:30 a.m., and again I sat outside on the green wooden bench under a tree. Under the shade of the tree, I was going through the advice my mom had told me about being professional at work the night before: “Always greet your co-workers even if they don’t say hello first, always dress appropriately, and always speak properly.” Then, I remembered my brother asking me how I got the job; he had always received the better gifts because he was older, but more importantly he was the first son. So this feeling of possessing something he desired was satisfying. My thoughts were disturbed when one of my co-workers who had been carrying a manila envelope the first day of the job walked up the stairs and sat next to me. He had facial hair, an earring, and looked a lot older than I thought.
“Wow, you’re pretty young. What is your name? He asked.
“Sergio. What’s your name?” I said.
“Paul,” he replied.
“So Joseph, can I ask you a question?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied
“So what are you planning to do with the money you earn for the summer?” Paul asked.
The first thought that came into my head was to say, “I’m going to save it for a rainy day,” but instead I said, “I will probably buy new cloths for the first day of high school and some video games.”
He smiled and said, “That’s smart.”
The library supervisor walked up to the stairs to the front of the building. Immediately I said, “Good Morning” like a programmed robot. Paul and I followed the supervisor into the building. As I walked into the lobby, I greeted the security officer and headed to the break room to get changed. I took off my casual shirt and put on a bright green shirt that had the letters SYEP printed on the back that the site supervisor had given me. I disliked this shirt because I felt out of place amongst patrons, but it reminded me of my old back yard in Suriname where it was the only color you saw when you stood on the veranda and saw luscious green leaves of banana, coconut, and mango trees. After changing, I went to sign in and looked at the daily duties that I was responsible for the week. I felt overwhelmed because I did not expect to have so many responsibilities, but then I remembered that my mother said, “You reap what you sow.” So I accepted this challenge with great zeal because I knew the payout would be worth it.
It was lunch time and one of the girls at the library who was also employed by SYEP began talking to me. She was much older than me and I was nervous, but curious about speaking to her. She had a rose tattoo with the name Marcus surrounded in thorns on her arm that could be seen by everyone, but I guess the formal sweater hanging on the back of the chair was her way of hiding her tattoo when she was working. Her main duty was to work at the circulation desk where patrons would check-out and check-in books because she possessed a charismatic personality and had great customer service experience. Her eyes were intriguing that reflected the color of my shirt when I spoke to her. She started telling me how she was only doing this job along with another job because she wanted to save up to pay for her high school prom and a vacation before she began college. When she started talking about her prom, I imagined what I would do with the money that I would be earning from this job.
Two weeks later, I was walking to work and the sun was finally glistening in the sky like the weather man had predicted. The playground next to the library was an orchestra with shouts of independence, innocence, and pain all combined to produce a grotesque harmony. I walked confidently to my workplace greeting everyone at the library because I knew that my first paycheck would be waiting there for me. I walked into my supervisor’s office and collected my check. Immediately, I ripped opened the sealed check and was surprised at the amount that was located on the right corner of this piece of paper $332.15. Then, I looked more intently at the piece of paper and saw the words social security, Medicare, and state tax that had consumed about eight percent of my check, but it did not bother me because I was a thirteen year old kid with $352.15 to my name. So I started my day a little more confidently because I would receive this amount every two weeks, which would be a great beginning to my savings.
After I had completed my duties at work, my supervisor smiled at me and said, “Thanks a lot for spending a few extra minutes organizing the book shelf.” I smiled and said, “No problem.” I left the library, but I wanted to stay a little longer instead of going home and seeing my brother and mother argue because he did not do any of his chores all day. However, the eager expectation of showing my mother my first check came fluttering in, so I walked home thinking about the new bike that I could now buy that my brother would not be able to use because I bought it on my own.
I arrived home and ran to my mother. She was sleeping, but I woke her up and said, “Mom, guess what I have?”
She smiled and looked at me with content, “What is going on?”
“I received my first paycheck mom,” I said.
“Wonderful Joseph, remember that you have to give you tithe.”
The rest of the evening I thought about all the things I could buy now: a new video game for my play station game console, a bicycle, and gifts for my family during the Christmas season.
Right after this, my brother walked into the house smelling like cigarettes and asked my mother for a little raise meaning that he wanted some spending money. My mom was angry at him because he smelled like cigarettes. He told her that it was his friends who were smoking around him, but she was really angry at him because she had already given him a raise this week. The two of them went back and forth until she gave in and reached into her bag and handed him a ten dollar bill. She told him to not spend it all in one day. My brother was never really concerned about money because he knew that my mother would always give him money because he knew how to get what he wanted, and if that did not work he would tell me mom that he was going to get it on his own. And in her opinion she thought it would be better to give him money than to have him look for money somewhere else that might lead him astray.
The next day, my mother and I went to the bank to deposit the check. The bank teller asked my mom what types of bills she wanted. She said very quietly, “Twenties please.” Upon leaving the bank, I asked my mom if I could hold unto the money, but she said that she would give it to me when we got home.
When we arrived home, I helped my mom unpack the bags of groceries and she gave me the money that I had earned. Right after, I ran to my room and locked the door and began counting my hard earned money. Now I need to find a place to put it since I could not open a bank account I thought. I looked in my drawer and saw my GameBoy Advance case. So I counted the money one last time and put it in an envelope with my name and tucked it into the secret pocket in the GameBoy Advance case.
Two days later I began my routine again, but I was more zealous about my job because I finally reaped the fruits of my labor. I signed in and began my assigned tasks for that specific day. The atmosphere at the library was serene because I was a quick learner, and so my supervisor asked another employee to train me to work at the circulation desk. I felt thrilled about being trained on the front desk because my hard work was being recognized. After I had helped a few patrons, I took my lunch break and went to eat my lunch in the playground next to the library. I saw my brother walking towards the playground. What did he want? I thought. He did not even notice me. He was meeting up with his friends. So I walked up to him.
“Hey what’s up,” I said
“Oh little dude what’s up,” he replied.
“Hey mom is going to be late today so go by Aunty Meg’s house,” he said
“Why? Aren’t you going to be home?” I asked him.
“No, I’m going to chill my friends,” he replied.
After my lunch break was over, I went back to finish my work. What a loser I thought.
After work was over I walked over to my aunt’s house. When I entered the house, my grandmother said, “Joseph I hear you have a job. It’s a good thing to work at a young age because you will be prepared for the future.” I replied, “Yes, grandma I know.” A few hours passed and my mother came to pick me up from my aunt’s house and we walked home.
While the two of us were walking home, I asked my mother, “Why don’t you punish Cain when he acts out or comes home late.”
She said, “I punish him, but he does not learn. What else can I do he is only fifteen years old?”
I wanted to tell her about the pack of cigarettes and lighter I found in his jacket pocket, but I knew it would not help the situation.
She said, “Sergio not all the fingers on your hand are even. So not everyone thinks the same way about life.”
Two weeks later, I received another check with $372.12. I was getting used to this feeling of maturity. With the extra money I decided to treat my family, so I went to the local Caribbean restaurant and bought them some fried rice, oxtail stew, and fried plantains. My brother came home late, but my mom had fallen asleep so he did not receive any punishments. He came home smelling like rum that my mom would use whenever she baked rum cake during the Christmas season. He walked in stumbling and fell on my shoulder smelling like cigarettes. I hated the smell of cigarettes. I should wake up mom right now and show her what her precious Cain looks like I thought, but instead I helped him get to bed trying not to wake-up my mother.
The next day I went into my underwear draw to get ten dollars from my GameBoy Advance case where I had stored my savings in the secret pocket on the inside. When I opened the case all the money was gone. I was furious and immediately blamed my brother. I wanted to hurt him. I searched my entire room, and then I took a moment and relaxed. I waited until he came home to confront him. My mother came home from work and I ran to the door. Right away I told her what had happened.
She said, “I probably misplaced it.
I yelled, “No, it was him.”
I waited until he came home and I confronted him. He denied taking the money, but I knew he took it. My mom came between the two of us and I blurted it out, “Steve smokes; I found a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket.” He ran towards me and began beating me. He hit me in the face and I tasted my own blood. And now I wanted him to do the same. I tried hitting him in the face, but instead I hit him in the chest, but it did not slow him down. He ran towards me and I remembered the day he taught me how to ride a bike.
It was summertime and the sun was at its highest peak at the time of the day.
“Joseph, get on the bike and hold onto the handle bars. Try balancing your weight on the bike,” he said.
“Okay, but can we do it tomorrow. I’m really tired and I want to a snow cone,” I said.
He commanded me to get on the bike and hold onto the bars. Then, he told me to pedal while he held onto the back of the bike seat. Then, he let go. I was finally doing it on my own. The air was on my face and I was flying past the houses. Suddenly, I lost my balance and fell; he ran towards the toppled bike and began examining me like I was a precious stone.
“You shouldn’t have done that” he said.
I didn’t know if he still recognized me because I was a punching bag for his anger. My pleading and crying did not stop him. Then, my mom came between the two of us and he stopped. He walked away like a poacher who acquired his precious ivory from his prey. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door as he left. My mother sat there in the corner looking worried, telling me that everything will work out. The two of us sat there and I asked her what she was going to do and she said, “You guys are brothers; you have to forgive him.” I sat in the corner crying and thinking that’s what you always say….
Comment on Prince William piece. The intro is well written it sets up your long time obsession with prince William. The introduction of your husband I wish was elaborated a little bit more because it will make the introduction of your depression seem less forced. Reading it I felt the depression part was dropped in their in the middle of the piece with no transition to it; which is why I suggest elaborating on your husband some more, or at the very least introduce the depression stuff in its own paragraph.
The great thing about this piece is it has catharsis with the reader. Something’s could be rearranged, for example, the depression part could be at the end. Intentional or unintentional the way you wrote this piece with short sentences moving from topic to topic without must fluency put the reader in a state of fixated randomness. I felt like I was in your mind and the subtext of that spoke volumes toward your mental illness. Captivating piece of writing.
The quote and dialogue at the beginning is a good foreshadow for the end of the piece. Your usage of the weather is a great metaphor for your emotions with your job. The dialogue between you and a co- worker need to be revised because I was confused about him not going home and going to his Aunt house and the way it was written suggest a close relation to you, though I doubt that was the case. The disdain you have with your brother is evident in your thoughts about your brother but they become justified when you describe his actions; making you a reliable narrator. This piece is a critique of you mother as well as your brother and I like how you showed that she gave independence to you and your brother and how the outcomes of that independence for you was opposite of your brothers. The part where you describe your brother smelling like the type of rum your mother used for her Christmas cake was a solid insinuation about your brother taking your mothers rum.
The addition of the bike scene establishes the contentious relationship you always had with your brother and provides the reader with nesscessary backstory.
The main piece of criticism I have is the prolonged details about working in the library. I recognize it’s importance to the narrative but the main story is the relationship between you, your brother and your mother, so I feel that it shouldn’t be the meat of your piece., especially the dialogue between you and a co- worker. The mentioning of the woman with the tattoo is a necessary because it subtextually displays your maturity but you also explicitly state that with the conversation between you and your grandmother. Solid piece but you need to ” kill your darlings” a little more.
whoa. i have no clue why but i really enjoyed this piece, the way you wrote it makes is come off very poetically, and in kind of melancholy tone
i think its great that you included mental illness very subtly, a nice touch
this a piece that can b open to much interpretation
but you have to touch up the grammar, and i think you could of gone way deeper with how ur illness and obsession correlate ( or are they the same? , interesting)
I wish you would’ve gone farther in your discussion of your mental illness. Rather than have the piece about prince William, think about changing the direction of the piece and make it about how he has been by your side through this. I wanna know much about you and I feel like there is a disconnect in your piece that doesn’t allow me to understand what you’re piece is about. Your piece is very repetitive, I’m not sure if that was on purpose or not but I gets a little frustrating to keep reading the same thing over and over without it actually getting somewhere. I would suggest for you to try and see if there is a way to change that.
Prince William
I find it interesting how you approach talking about your attempt to suicide and its correlation with your infatuation with prince William. I don’t know if you mention “forever young” and if you meant to compare the love you feel to love Mell Gibson portrayed in the movie for the woman he loved. I don’t know if that happen by accident, but it worked for me.
Forever young movie with Mel Gibson- The love would last no matter the time and obstacles overcome.
Or maybe because I have seen the movie and that influence me in to believing that the love you tried to portray was similar to Mel’s love.
The layout made me believe that the things you were saying were thoughts in your head. I felt it was a conversation you had with yourself, random thoughts to justify your love for Prince William. Your piece was different, to the other pieces I have read.
I appreciated how the piece used short concise sentences that illustrated the voice of the main character as unstable and sporadic. For example, in the second paragraph the narrator talks about their husband, but quickly returns to talking about their obsession with “Prince William.” The point of view of the piece is in the first person and describes the main character’s obsession with “Prince William.”
I found it intriguing how knowledgeable the narrator was about “Prince William’s” life because all the events in the story are based on factual events that could be found in various magazine publications. I enjoyed how the narrator uses short sentences to talk about the main character’s obsession with “Prince William” because it expresses how many individuals in society idolize celebrities on a superficial level without having any basis for their admiration. I would suggest that the writer explore the cause of the main character’s mental problem because throughout the entire narrative the reader is left with a lot of unanswered questions about the main character’s life.
The use of short sentences in your piece is good to convey how emotionally attached you’re. I like the technique you used to demonstrate that everything is centered inside of you and the use of your technique demonstrates other characters characteristics. You used factual events which displayed to the reader you’re aware of what you’re speaking about. In my opinion you should remove some of the short sentences and keep it as a literary technique in your writing. Expand more by adding dialogue.
These short sentences used in a consistent manner really set the fragile mindset of the narrator for us and reinforced a type of dream state. Maybe you meant it to be representative of the kind of mental illness the narrator was talking about. For such a short piece, I don’t know if it was wise to mention the other men the narrator also fantasizes about. You need to expand on and explore a lot more, even if you do choose to continue using the consistently short sentence format. I would suggest exploring what lacks in the narrator’s marriage for her to seek out fantasies about Prince William. Maybe share some scene with us in such fantasies. You did do this a bit, but it wasn’t much. I guess that part got washed out in the sea of praise for Prince William, which did overshadow a lot, but I wouldn’t say they were unnecessary. You can balance this out just by expanding on the areas that were not explored as much. You could even expand on being inspired to cook as an example of how influential Kate is on you. Also, a huge mystery, the suicide attempt that often referenced; you can really expand on this. Try grouping common thoughts together more often than not. To really drive home the ending, you could explore the mental illness you have to contrast how you need him to escape such worries. I like the kind of impression such a writing technique left on the reader. I’m not even sure how to describe this effect, but good work.
I also like the scatter thoughts brevity of the sentences. It helps the reader imagine the sporadic and jumping thought process of the narrator. I loved how the subjects jumped seemingly at random and since the narrator has a mental illness, the paragraph groupings/subjects making no sense, makes sense.
I actually find the mention of the narrator’s other husbands, including the real life one, to be a great addition to the piece. They show just how delusional the speaker is, especially the husbands who are long dead, like JFK.
The little drops here and there about the narrator’s mental illness and suicide attempt and treatment were fun in the sense that these details are what the reader wants to read to see what is really going on, but they are all scattered in the madness of the narrative at large, forcing us to comb through it and separate what is real from what is unreal. All in all, great job!
I enjoyed this piece because the way it was written seemed so poetic and the voice of the narrator made me feel like I was dreaming of my own dreamlover. The piece just dives right into your it connectioeelings for thos man and because the author’s thoughts are just running wild throughout the piece, it creates a emotional piece that reflects the author’s mind. The way the piece was structured could perhaps inprove because lots of things get repeated, like his hair, and because you are infactuated with him it is difficult for you to control your racing thoughts.
Perhaps you could get a little more personal and discuss your mental illness in depth and how it developed the way it did. Also you could discuss your suicide attempt more in-depth. How does It connect to the death of his mom? Great piece
When first reading your piece, I was emotionally captivated to it because of how obsessed you are with prince William and how you express your infatuation with him in minor details. The second time I read “Prince William”, I enjoyed your writing tactic the further i got into the piece. I wish you would’ve discussed your husband so the reader could understand the contrast of your reality from your fantasy world. Had you developed a little more on why you consider John F Kennedy Jr. and prince Harry your husbands too, I feel we would have got a better understanding of what about those men allow you to escape from the troubles you face from your illness. Your illness plays a major part in the significance of your story and I wished I would’ve known the backstory behind in, however it’s understandable how little you disclosed due to the personal nature of the situation.
I really enjoyed your piece. This piece made me smile the entire time as I was reading it. This piece flew lovely and i loved the repetition of he. I really liked how you had flight of ideas a sign of mental illness.
Reading your story was so much fun. At times it seemed random and weird, but it all worked perfectly. The short sentences and repetition add to how strongly you feel about Prince William and convinced me you truly have something special with him. Great piece.
You psychopath 😛 Just kidding. What I have to say though may not be much better, but the piece seems like an admission of a woman who’s life is so sad that she obsesses over this one person. Why Prince William and not Brad Pitt? Is it his prince status? He doesn’t seem remarkable to me in other ways. Often, when people obsess over someone else like this, it is because the person that they are obsessing over has some how become intrinsic to the identity of the obsessor.
As far as the reading goes, this actually was a good piece. It reminds me of some short stories I’ve read by an author who’s name I forget, but they were always dark commentaries on the human condition. We are all really messed up, aren’t we? The narrator may
have her obsession, but we all have something outside of us that we meld our identities with.
This piece was pretty interesting and enjoyable at the same time. Although I don’t find Prince William that hot or charming I found this piece pretty convincing. After reading for the second time I felt like the tone of this piece reminded me of Smeagol from the Lord of the Rings. Smeagol’s obsession over the ring and how the ring influenced him was what this piece reminded me of. A few things I think this piece could be improved would be by perhaps expanding the facts of the narrator’s relationship to her husband. Additionally as a reader I was curious to if the narrator will or has made an attempt to visit England or any other way to get close to Prince William. Overall I really liked this piece.
Similar to the others, I enjoyed this piece because it wasn’t a typical memoir.
It flows like that of an emotional, poetic piece. The repetitive He–and then your thoughts serves as great credibility to your love for Prince WIliam. I’m sure he has many fans but I’m not sure they could talk about his ‘life features and traits, as you did for three pages straight.
A little insight as to how your love began would prove to be a great addition to the piece.
I liked the artistic style of this piece. It seemed to be similar to stream of consciousness, as you connected random things about the same topic. If this piece was about Prince William, I want to know the purpose of it. What does Prince William do for you? What emotional conclusion have you come to about your relationship with Prince William. I like the connection you made with your illness to Prince William, and maybe we can elaborate on this. Overall, it was a great piece, I would just like to know more about YOUR emotional conclusion in relation to Prince Henry.
Your unconditional love that can also be considered an obsession was amazing. The authors devotion to Prince William surely is an example of reading between the lines. There were moments in which I was a little lost with the wordings that she gave. But looking at it in a profound way, it plays a key role in the entire piece.
There is no denying the connection that the author feels with the titular character. It was nice that she did not JUST talk about William, but that she also threw in bits of information about her life and medical situation. That brought the essay a more realistic approach.
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Good story. Great ending.
(Hi classmates: I was having a problem logging into the website, so I posted my article in a comment.)
The Unspoken Principle
“Mom I can’t act like its okay. I’m only thirteen years old,” I said
“He is you brother. You have to forgive him,” she said.
That’s what you always say I thought.
The rays of the morning sun had not fully penetrated the gloomy overcast like the weather man had predicted. Above my head were a group of birds whistling sweet melodies where I was seated on a green bench waiting for the building to open. The building was intriguing because it did not resemble a typical public library. It was constructed like an ancient Greek building where scholars would translate and transcribed important text about their history. Standing near the entrance of the building was a young girl and her mother who were laughing every so often like there was an inside joke that only people who already had job experience knew. In the corner of my eye, I saw a guy walking up the stairs to the library who had also attended the SYEP (Summer Youth Employment Program) training workshops. He was dressed in a shirt and tie like a postman with his manila envelope in his hand. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they were there for.
The doors finally opened and we entered the building. Walking alone into this building was strange without my mother because everyone else was accompanied by their parents. When we entered the main lobby of the library we were told that our parents could not be part of the orientation meeting. I felt satisfied seeing the parents escorted to another corner of the library. After the parents mouthed the words “good luck” to their children, we all walked to a small table with pieces of papers that had our names in titles that began like Mr. or Ms….. The library supervisor walked in and gave a brief description of what it means to work in a professional public organization. Then, our site supervisor told us that we would have pay close attention to the library supervisor regarding our duties at the library because she would receive an evaluation of our behavior each week.
After this formal introduction, we were taken into the break room and given our uniform. Then, the site supervisor told us quietly that, “if we had any problem with any employee or with our supervisor, we should contact her immediately.” She was very polite to us, and every time she smiled her face would create two dents in the side of her cheeks.
After our site supervisor left, the library supervisor informed us that that we would be trained by a more experienced employee for three days, then we would need to work on our own. Throughout the day, I had struggled with the responsibilities because I had to reshelf books that were brought in by patrons, organize specific book sections, and maintain a clean play area for the younger children. The day was longer than I expected and my feet were hurting me. Then, I heard a strange voice say, “Great job Sergio,” when I signed my time sheet, so I smiled, and said my formal, “Thank you.” I left work satisfied and ran home to tell my mom about my first day of working at the library, even though Cain would receive all the attention for coming home late as usual because he broke his curfew. However, I had stories that would transform the experience at the library into an odyssey that would grab the interest one anyone.
The next day I returned to work at8:30 a.m., and again I sat outside on the green wooden bench under a tree. Under the shade of the tree, I was going through the advice my mom had told me about being professional at work the night before: “Always greet your co-workers even if they don’t say hello first, always dress appropriately, and always speak properly.” Then, I remembered my brother asking me how I got the job; he had always received the better gifts because he was older, but more importantly he was the first son. So this feeling of possessing something he desired was satisfying. My thoughts were disturbed when one of my co-workers who had been carrying a manila envelope the first day of the job walked up the stairs and sat next to me. He had facial hair, an earring, and looked a lot older than I thought.
“Wow, you’re pretty young. What is your name? He asked.
“Sergio. What’s your name?” I said.
“Paul,” he replied.
“So Joseph, can I ask you a question?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied
“So what are you planning to do with the money you earn for the summer?” Paul asked.
The first thought that came into my head was to say, “I’m going to save it for a rainy day,” but instead I said, “I will probably buy new cloths for the first day of high school and some video games.”
He smiled and said, “That’s smart.”
The library supervisor walked up to the stairs to the front of the building. Immediately I said, “Good Morning” like a programmed robot. Paul and I followed the supervisor into the building. As I walked into the lobby, I greeted the security officer and headed to the break room to get changed. I took off my casual shirt and put on a bright green shirt that had the letters SYEP printed on the back that the site supervisor had given me. I disliked this shirt because I felt out of place amongst patrons, but it reminded me of my old back yard in Suriname where it was the only color you saw when you stood on the veranda and saw luscious green leaves of banana, coconut, and mango trees. After changing, I went to sign in and looked at the daily duties that I was responsible for the week. I felt overwhelmed because I did not expect to have so many responsibilities, but then I remembered that my mother said, “You reap what you sow.” So I accepted this challenge with great zeal because I knew the payout would be worth it.
It was lunch time and one of the girls at the library who was also employed by SYEP began talking to me. She was much older than me and I was nervous, but curious about speaking to her. She had a rose tattoo with the name Marcus surrounded in thorns on her arm that could be seen by everyone, but I guess the formal sweater hanging on the back of the chair was her way of hiding her tattoo when she was working. Her main duty was to work at the circulation desk where patrons would check-out and check-in books because she possessed a charismatic personality and had great customer service experience. Her eyes were intriguing that reflected the color of my shirt when I spoke to her. She started telling me how she was only doing this job along with another job because she wanted to save up to pay for her high school prom and a vacation before she began college. When she started talking about her prom, I imagined what I would do with the money that I would be earning from this job.
Two weeks later, I was walking to work and the sun was finally glistening in the sky like the weather man had predicted. The playground next to the library was an orchestra with shouts of independence, innocence, and pain all combined to produce a grotesque harmony. I walked confidently to my workplace greeting everyone at the library because I knew that my first paycheck would be waiting there for me. I walked into my supervisor’s office and collected my check. Immediately, I ripped opened the sealed check and was surprised at the amount that was located on the right corner of this piece of paper $332.15. Then, I looked more intently at the piece of paper and saw the words social security, Medicare, and state tax that had consumed about eight percent of my check, but it did not bother me because I was a thirteen year old kid with $352.15 to my name. So I started my day a little more confidently because I would receive this amount every two weeks, which would be a great beginning to my savings.
After I had completed my duties at work, my supervisor smiled at me and said, “Thanks a lot for spending a few extra minutes organizing the book shelf.” I smiled and said, “No problem.” I left the library, but I wanted to stay a little longer instead of going home and seeing my brother and mother argue because he did not do any of his chores all day. However, the eager expectation of showing my mother my first check came fluttering in, so I walked home thinking about the new bike that I could now buy that my brother would not be able to use because I bought it on my own.
I arrived home and ran to my mother. She was sleeping, but I woke her up and said, “Mom, guess what I have?”
She smiled and looked at me with content, “What is going on?”
“I received my first paycheck mom,” I said.
“Wonderful Joseph, remember that you have to give you tithe.”
The rest of the evening I thought about all the things I could buy now: a new video game for my play station game console, a bicycle, and gifts for my family during the Christmas season.
Right after this, my brother walked into the house smelling like cigarettes and asked my mother for a little raise meaning that he wanted some spending money. My mom was angry at him because he smelled like cigarettes. He told her that it was his friends who were smoking around him, but she was really angry at him because she had already given him a raise this week. The two of them went back and forth until she gave in and reached into her bag and handed him a ten dollar bill. She told him to not spend it all in one day. My brother was never really concerned about money because he knew that my mother would always give him money because he knew how to get what he wanted, and if that did not work he would tell me mom that he was going to get it on his own. And in her opinion she thought it would be better to give him money than to have him look for money somewhere else that might lead him astray.
The next day, my mother and I went to the bank to deposit the check. The bank teller asked my mom what types of bills she wanted. She said very quietly, “Twenties please.” Upon leaving the bank, I asked my mom if I could hold unto the money, but she said that she would give it to me when we got home.
When we arrived home, I helped my mom unpack the bags of groceries and she gave me the money that I had earned. Right after, I ran to my room and locked the door and began counting my hard earned money. Now I need to find a place to put it since I could not open a bank account I thought. I looked in my drawer and saw my GameBoy Advance case. So I counted the money one last time and put it in an envelope with my name and tucked it into the secret pocket in the GameBoy Advance case.
Two days later I began my routine again, but I was more zealous about my job because I finally reaped the fruits of my labor. I signed in and began my assigned tasks for that specific day. The atmosphere at the library was serene because I was a quick learner, and so my supervisor asked another employee to train me to work at the circulation desk. I felt thrilled about being trained on the front desk because my hard work was being recognized. After I had helped a few patrons, I took my lunch break and went to eat my lunch in the playground next to the library. I saw my brother walking towards the playground. What did he want? I thought. He did not even notice me. He was meeting up with his friends. So I walked up to him.
“Hey what’s up,” I said
“Oh little dude what’s up,” he replied.
“Hey mom is going to be late today so go by Aunty Meg’s house,” he said
“Why? Aren’t you going to be home?” I asked him.
“No, I’m going to chill my friends,” he replied.
After my lunch break was over, I went back to finish my work. What a loser I thought.
After work was over I walked over to my aunt’s house. When I entered the house, my grandmother said, “Joseph I hear you have a job. It’s a good thing to work at a young age because you will be prepared for the future.” I replied, “Yes, grandma I know.” A few hours passed and my mother came to pick me up from my aunt’s house and we walked home.
While the two of us were walking home, I asked my mother, “Why don’t you punish Cain when he acts out or comes home late.”
She said, “I punish him, but he does not learn. What else can I do he is only fifteen years old?”
I wanted to tell her about the pack of cigarettes and lighter I found in his jacket pocket, but I knew it would not help the situation.
She said, “Sergio not all the fingers on your hand are even. So not everyone thinks the same way about life.”
Two weeks later, I received another check with $372.12. I was getting used to this feeling of maturity. With the extra money I decided to treat my family, so I went to the local Caribbean restaurant and bought them some fried rice, oxtail stew, and fried plantains. My brother came home late, but my mom had fallen asleep so he did not receive any punishments. He came home smelling like rum that my mom would use whenever she baked rum cake during the Christmas season. He walked in stumbling and fell on my shoulder smelling like cigarettes. I hated the smell of cigarettes. I should wake up mom right now and show her what her precious Cain looks like I thought, but instead I helped him get to bed trying not to wake-up my mother.
The next day I went into my underwear draw to get ten dollars from my GameBoy Advance case where I had stored my savings in the secret pocket on the inside. When I opened the case all the money was gone. I was furious and immediately blamed my brother. I wanted to hurt him. I searched my entire room, and then I took a moment and relaxed. I waited until he came home to confront him. My mother came home from work and I ran to the door. Right away I told her what had happened.
She said, “I probably misplaced it.
I yelled, “No, it was him.”
I waited until he came home and I confronted him. He denied taking the money, but I knew he took it. My mom came between the two of us and I blurted it out, “Steve smokes; I found a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket.” He ran towards me and began beating me. He hit me in the face and I tasted my own blood. And now I wanted him to do the same. I tried hitting him in the face, but instead I hit him in the chest, but it did not slow him down. He ran towards me and I remembered the day he taught me how to ride a bike.
It was summertime and the sun was at its highest peak at the time of the day.
“Joseph, get on the bike and hold onto the handle bars. Try balancing your weight on the bike,” he said.
“Okay, but can we do it tomorrow. I’m really tired and I want to a snow cone,” I said.
He commanded me to get on the bike and hold onto the bars. Then, he told me to pedal while he held onto the back of the bike seat. Then, he let go. I was finally doing it on my own. The air was on my face and I was flying past the houses. Suddenly, I lost my balance and fell; he ran towards the toppled bike and began examining me like I was a precious stone.
“You shouldn’t have done that” he said.
I didn’t know if he still recognized me because I was a punching bag for his anger. My pleading and crying did not stop him. Then, my mom came between the two of us and he stopped. He walked away like a poacher who acquired his precious ivory from his prey. He stormed out of the house and slammed the door as he left. My mother sat there in the corner looking worried, telling me that everything will work out. The two of us sat there and I asked her what she was going to do and she said, “You guys are brothers; you have to forgive him.” I sat in the corner crying and thinking that’s what you always say….
Comment on Prince William piece. The intro is well written it sets up your long time obsession with prince William. The introduction of your husband I wish was elaborated a little bit more because it will make the introduction of your depression seem less forced. Reading it I felt the depression part was dropped in their in the middle of the piece with no transition to it; which is why I suggest elaborating on your husband some more, or at the very least introduce the depression stuff in its own paragraph.
The great thing about this piece is it has catharsis with the reader. Something’s could be rearranged, for example, the depression part could be at the end. Intentional or unintentional the way you wrote this piece with short sentences moving from topic to topic without must fluency put the reader in a state of fixated randomness. I felt like I was in your mind and the subtext of that spoke volumes toward your mental illness. Captivating piece of writing.
Unspoken principles
The quote and dialogue at the beginning is a good foreshadow for the end of the piece. Your usage of the weather is a great metaphor for your emotions with your job. The dialogue between you and a co- worker need to be revised because I was confused about him not going home and going to his Aunt house and the way it was written suggest a close relation to you, though I doubt that was the case. The disdain you have with your brother is evident in your thoughts about your brother but they become justified when you describe his actions; making you a reliable narrator. This piece is a critique of you mother as well as your brother and I like how you showed that she gave independence to you and your brother and how the outcomes of that independence for you was opposite of your brothers. The part where you describe your brother smelling like the type of rum your mother used for her Christmas cake was a solid insinuation about your brother taking your mothers rum.
The addition of the bike scene establishes the contentious relationship you always had with your brother and provides the reader with nesscessary backstory.
The main piece of criticism I have is the prolonged details about working in the library. I recognize it’s importance to the narrative but the main story is the relationship between you, your brother and your mother, so I feel that it shouldn’t be the meat of your piece., especially the dialogue between you and a co- worker. The mentioning of the woman with the tattoo is a necessary because it subtextually displays your maturity but you also explicitly state that with the conversation between you and your grandmother. Solid piece but you need to ” kill your darlings” a little more.
whoa. i have no clue why but i really enjoyed this piece, the way you wrote it makes is come off very poetically, and in kind of melancholy tone
i think its great that you included mental illness very subtly, a nice touch
this a piece that can b open to much interpretation
but you have to touch up the grammar, and i think you could of gone way deeper with how ur illness and obsession correlate ( or are they the same? , interesting)
I wish you would’ve gone farther in your discussion of your mental illness. Rather than have the piece about prince William, think about changing the direction of the piece and make it about how he has been by your side through this. I wanna know much about you and I feel like there is a disconnect in your piece that doesn’t allow me to understand what you’re piece is about. Your piece is very repetitive, I’m not sure if that was on purpose or not but I gets a little frustrating to keep reading the same thing over and over without it actually getting somewhere. I would suggest for you to try and see if there is a way to change that.
Prince William
I find it interesting how you approach talking about your attempt to suicide and its correlation with your infatuation with prince William. I don’t know if you mention “forever young” and if you meant to compare the love you feel to love Mell Gibson portrayed in the movie for the woman he loved. I don’t know if that happen by accident, but it worked for me.
Forever young movie with Mel Gibson- The love would last no matter the time and obstacles overcome.
Or maybe because I have seen the movie and that influence me in to believing that the love you tried to portray was similar to Mel’s love.
The layout made me believe that the things you were saying were thoughts in your head. I felt it was a conversation you had with yourself, random thoughts to justify your love for Prince William. Your piece was different, to the other pieces I have read.
I appreciated how the piece used short concise sentences that illustrated the voice of the main character as unstable and sporadic. For example, in the second paragraph the narrator talks about their husband, but quickly returns to talking about their obsession with “Prince William.” The point of view of the piece is in the first person and describes the main character’s obsession with “Prince William.”
I found it intriguing how knowledgeable the narrator was about “Prince William’s” life because all the events in the story are based on factual events that could be found in various magazine publications. I enjoyed how the narrator uses short sentences to talk about the main character’s obsession with “Prince William” because it expresses how many individuals in society idolize celebrities on a superficial level without having any basis for their admiration. I would suggest that the writer explore the cause of the main character’s mental problem because throughout the entire narrative the reader is left with a lot of unanswered questions about the main character’s life.
The use of short sentences in your piece is good to convey how emotionally attached you’re. I like the technique you used to demonstrate that everything is centered inside of you and the use of your technique demonstrates other characters characteristics. You used factual events which displayed to the reader you’re aware of what you’re speaking about. In my opinion you should remove some of the short sentences and keep it as a literary technique in your writing. Expand more by adding dialogue.
These short sentences used in a consistent manner really set the fragile mindset of the narrator for us and reinforced a type of dream state. Maybe you meant it to be representative of the kind of mental illness the narrator was talking about. For such a short piece, I don’t know if it was wise to mention the other men the narrator also fantasizes about. You need to expand on and explore a lot more, even if you do choose to continue using the consistently short sentence format. I would suggest exploring what lacks in the narrator’s marriage for her to seek out fantasies about Prince William. Maybe share some scene with us in such fantasies. You did do this a bit, but it wasn’t much. I guess that part got washed out in the sea of praise for Prince William, which did overshadow a lot, but I wouldn’t say they were unnecessary. You can balance this out just by expanding on the areas that were not explored as much. You could even expand on being inspired to cook as an example of how influential Kate is on you. Also, a huge mystery, the suicide attempt that often referenced; you can really expand on this. Try grouping common thoughts together more often than not. To really drive home the ending, you could explore the mental illness you have to contrast how you need him to escape such worries. I like the kind of impression such a writing technique left on the reader. I’m not even sure how to describe this effect, but good work.
I also like the scatter thoughts brevity of the sentences. It helps the reader imagine the sporadic and jumping thought process of the narrator. I loved how the subjects jumped seemingly at random and since the narrator has a mental illness, the paragraph groupings/subjects making no sense, makes sense.
I actually find the mention of the narrator’s other husbands, including the real life one, to be a great addition to the piece. They show just how delusional the speaker is, especially the husbands who are long dead, like JFK.
The little drops here and there about the narrator’s mental illness and suicide attempt and treatment were fun in the sense that these details are what the reader wants to read to see what is really going on, but they are all scattered in the madness of the narrative at large, forcing us to comb through it and separate what is real from what is unreal. All in all, great job!
I enjoyed this piece because the way it was written seemed so poetic and the voice of the narrator made me feel like I was dreaming of my own dreamlover. The piece just dives right into your it connectioeelings for thos man and because the author’s thoughts are just running wild throughout the piece, it creates a emotional piece that reflects the author’s mind. The way the piece was structured could perhaps inprove because lots of things get repeated, like his hair, and because you are infactuated with him it is difficult for you to control your racing thoughts.
Perhaps you could get a little more personal and discuss your mental illness in depth and how it developed the way it did. Also you could discuss your suicide attempt more in-depth. How does It connect to the death of his mom? Great piece
When first reading your piece, I was emotionally captivated to it because of how obsessed you are with prince William and how you express your infatuation with him in minor details. The second time I read “Prince William”, I enjoyed your writing tactic the further i got into the piece. I wish you would’ve discussed your husband so the reader could understand the contrast of your reality from your fantasy world. Had you developed a little more on why you consider John F Kennedy Jr. and prince Harry your husbands too, I feel we would have got a better understanding of what about those men allow you to escape from the troubles you face from your illness. Your illness plays a major part in the significance of your story and I wished I would’ve known the backstory behind in, however it’s understandable how little you disclosed due to the personal nature of the situation.
I really enjoyed your piece. This piece made me smile the entire time as I was reading it. This piece flew lovely and i loved the repetition of he. I really liked how you had flight of ideas a sign of mental illness.
Reading your story was so much fun. At times it seemed random and weird, but it all worked perfectly. The short sentences and repetition add to how strongly you feel about Prince William and convinced me you truly have something special with him. Great piece.
You psychopath 😛 Just kidding. What I have to say though may not be much better, but the piece seems like an admission of a woman who’s life is so sad that she obsesses over this one person. Why Prince William and not Brad Pitt? Is it his prince status? He doesn’t seem remarkable to me in other ways. Often, when people obsess over someone else like this, it is because the person that they are obsessing over has some how become intrinsic to the identity of the obsessor.
As far as the reading goes, this actually was a good piece. It reminds me of some short stories I’ve read by an author who’s name I forget, but they were always dark commentaries on the human condition. We are all really messed up, aren’t we? The narrator may
have her obsession, but we all have something outside of us that we meld our identities with.
This piece was pretty interesting and enjoyable at the same time. Although I don’t find Prince William that hot or charming I found this piece pretty convincing. After reading for the second time I felt like the tone of this piece reminded me of Smeagol from the Lord of the Rings. Smeagol’s obsession over the ring and how the ring influenced him was what this piece reminded me of. A few things I think this piece could be improved would be by perhaps expanding the facts of the narrator’s relationship to her husband. Additionally as a reader I was curious to if the narrator will or has made an attempt to visit England or any other way to get close to Prince William. Overall I really liked this piece.
Similar to the others, I enjoyed this piece because it wasn’t a typical memoir.
It flows like that of an emotional, poetic piece. The repetitive He–and then your thoughts serves as great credibility to your love for Prince WIliam. I’m sure he has many fans but I’m not sure they could talk about his ‘life features and traits, as you did for three pages straight.
A little insight as to how your love began would prove to be a great addition to the piece.
Overall, it was quite enjoyable.
I liked the artistic style of this piece. It seemed to be similar to stream of consciousness, as you connected random things about the same topic. If this piece was about Prince William, I want to know the purpose of it. What does Prince William do for you? What emotional conclusion have you come to about your relationship with Prince William. I like the connection you made with your illness to Prince William, and maybe we can elaborate on this. Overall, it was a great piece, I would just like to know more about YOUR emotional conclusion in relation to Prince Henry.
I absolutely loved this piece.
Your unconditional love that can also be considered an obsession was amazing. The authors devotion to Prince William surely is an example of reading between the lines. There were moments in which I was a little lost with the wordings that she gave. But looking at it in a profound way, it plays a key role in the entire piece.
There is no denying the connection that the author feels with the titular character. It was nice that she did not JUST talk about William, but that she also threw in bits of information about her life and medical situation. That brought the essay a more realistic approach.
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