By Nimarit Walia

7 ^o

GTA

Grand Theft Alex

Chapter 1

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Pick me,” screamed the impatient boy.  He was hopping around like a hungry monkey waiting for a banana.

“Is there anyone else in the class who can give me an example of a simile?”  The hopeful teacher peered around the classroom in effort to find at least one student that knew the answer.  But she didn’t and turned her head back to the boy who was jumping all over the place.  She then gave out a deep sigh and said, “OK Alex, what’s your simile?”

“Ooh, I got a good one today teach’.  All right here it is.  ‘The sun was as hot as the sun.’”  All 38 students burst into a hysterical laugh.  “What?  Ain’t it good?  That one took a lot of thinking.  Had to work the ol’ noggin’.”

“No Alex, you have to compare one item with something else in a sarcastic way.  For example, ‘the man ran as fast as lightning.’”

“Oh! Ok then.  How about ‘Usain Bolt ran as fast as Usain Bolt.’

“DETENTION!  After school!  30 minutes!”  yelped the enraged teacher.

Immediately after the incident, the bell rang.  School was finally over.  Alex proudly ran out of the classroom, stopping every few seconds to look back for his teacher.  He was the class-clown, the joker, and the circus act.  He was in the 9^th grade and he still had straight F grades.  Not only had he not gotten an A for three years, but he also never failed to get in trouble.  Today he had gotten detention and ran away.

As he approached the crosswalk outside the school, his friends came running to him.  They joked around about his simile and asked him if he wanted to hang out with them at the mall.  He agreed, and quickly hurried home to tell his mom.  He approached his house at about 3:30 p.m.  He ran up to the large white doors of his house.  He rang the doorbell and entered his name and fingerprint.  The door was quickly opened by a tall man in a tuxedo.  The man kindly gestured Alex into the home, and shut the door behind him.  Alex then passed by the swirling staircases and entered the kitchen, where another butler was swiftly cooking a meal of mouth- watering barbeque chicken drumsticks, several slices of bread, and a fresh salad covered with Ranch dressing.  He walked by the study and saw his dad working busily on his laptop.  He said hi and then walked to the living room.  There he found his mother pacing back and forth, brown hair flying into the air each time she turned.  She stood 5 foot 9 inches and was quite slender.  She was usually nice and caring, but she was like a volcano when she was mad.

“Where have you been young man?  I just got a call from your teacher and I heard that you were being a smart-a-lick again.  How many times do I have to tell you to pay attention in class?  And you apparently have straight F’s again.  You promised me that you would get good grades if I got you a go-cart and built you a course in the backyard.  But you never keep your promises.  That is it!  Enough is enough!  YOU’RE GROUNDED!  No TV, no video games, no friends, no phones, no computers, no butler, nothing for a month.” The furious mother towered over Alex and made sure he understood.  “I expect better from you Alexander Gates.  Why can’t you be like your father and I.  We studied well, got a good job, and are now living it big.  Don’t you want to be rich and famous?  You can’t just rely on your boxing to take you places.  You need to be intelligent. 56 With that, the mother calmed down and paced into one of the elevators in the house.  Alex put his hands over his head, brushing back his thick black hair.  He went to his room and lay down his bed and buried his head into one of the cushions.  He had thought about how he acted, and decided to make a change.  A change that would affect his whole life.

Chapter 2

Alex awoke to a loud buzzing sound in his ear. He tried to cover his head with his pillow, but the sound wouldn’t go away. It just got louder and louder. He got out of bed and was surprised to see red light flashing all over his room. He opened his large, glass door and saw more red lights flashing. Suddenly he heard a shriek, a familiar scream that reminded him of his mother telling him to clean his room. It was then that he realized that the house alarm was going off and his mother was the one screaming, “HELP! HELP! HELP!” Alex hurried back into his room and went to his large 10X10 foot mirror. Then he said his name and whispered a secret password into the edge of the mirror. Finally, he placed his nose on the mirror and it rotated 180 degrees. A large box was revealed. In the middle of the box, there was a pair of blinding white gloves that seemed to be floating in mid-air. Alex quickly grabbed them and slid them on. Call his crazy, but he was going to protect himself with a pair of boxing gloves.

A large shattering noise from the first floor startled Alex, and he quickly ran to his door and thrust it open.  He was about to make a run for his parent’s room, but was stopped by a large man in a black- suit.  The man was about 6 feet tall and had red paint covering his entire body including his face.  Alex lunged at the man and gave him a solid blow on his jaw.  The muscular man retreated backwards and touched his jaw.  Alex examined his glove and saw that it was covered with red blood.  His white glove had been ruined.  While Alex was distracted with his gloves, the man went into a football stance and charged at him with full force.  In a matter of seconds, Alex was on the ground hollering with pain.  The man was on top of him, locking his arms and feet together with handcuffs and dragging him out the window.  Once they were outside, the sound of cops filled their ears.  The man dove behind a fence and taped Alex’s mouth shut.  He then dumped Alex into a bag and surrounded him with trash.  With the cops coming closer and closer, the man took of his suit and body paint and put on a janitor costume.  He had a tan skin color and gray hair that he covered with a hat.  He put on fake wrinkles and a gray beard.  He then picked up his trash-bag, which held Alex in it, and approached a big truck.  The cops finally came out of the car and immediately ran to the man.  The two policemen put their hands on their pistols and walked into the man’s way.
“Excuse me sir, but what might you be doing here?” exclaimed one of the policemen.  The man kept walking like an old man, and acted like he didn’t hear anything.
“I said what are you doing here.  Someone just sounded an alarm and I will shoot if you don’t turn around.”  The cop said with a firm voice.

The “old” man went and stood on a sewer plate on the road and turned around.  “Huh? Pardon?” he said in an even weaker voice, putting his hands slowly around his ear.
“Who are you and why are you here?  Besides, there’s no one supposed to be picking up the trash today.”  The cops tightened their grip on their guns and walked closer to the man.

“I a-am M-mr. S-smith,” said the man, tricking the cops to thinking that he was an old man.  “I don’t even remember when my shifts are these days.  My wife is gone, and I am following her.”
Just as the cops went to grab the old man and question him at the police department, he swung his bag and knocked both the cops to the floor.  The two cops instantly reached for their guns, but were hit hard by a metal pole.  The man walked over to them and stole their guns, bats, and other equipment before jumping into his black Ford F150 truck.  Inside the truck, three other bags identical to the one with Alex were lying on the seats, and two other men were also there wearing the same costumes as the man that kidnapped Alex.  They all were big and buff and were laughing while they sped down Highway 5 and rode to L.A.

Once they reached L.A., they all got out of the car and picked up the bags.  They then walked into a deserted alley that was as dark as the midnight sky, and went to a five-story apartment.  They strode over to the door and unlocked it using a screwdriver and a credit card.  Next, they walked up to the fifth floor and went into the room number 734.  When they got in the room, they turned on the lights and discovered a group of men sitting next to the pool table.  They all were smoking long cigars and had sub- machine guns in their hands.  In the front of them was a dark man with a buzz cut and the words “Live To Die” carved in his head.

“Open da bags,” commanded the leader, Dibs.
The three men, also known as the “Gigantic Trio Assault” or G.T.A., quickly opened the bags and proudly lifted them up for Dibs to see inside them.
“What da hell are ya try’na show me, eh?  What you t’ink I am huh?  Some sort o’ dummy!  Well lets get dis straight,” Dibs said looking the men straight in the eyes, “Ya mess wid’ me, ya get the hamma’.  Ya got it.  I thought that you guys are worth som’thin, but I guess I was wrong.”
The three men thoroughly inspected the bags but found nothing but trash.  “Buh-.”
“ENOUGH O’ DIS! put ‘em on da table.”
Dibs’ men threw the G.T.A. on the table and tied them up.  They then took a hammer and hit each one’s finger until the bone split in half.  The three men screeched like a cat getting run over, and they stared at their broken fingers, now oozing with blood.

“Next ones tomo’ow” muttered Dibs as he stuck his cigar in one of the man’s bloody fingers.

Chapter 3

Alex, his mom, dad, and baby brother were all running to the nearest hotel, which was 2 miles away.  But how, might you ask, did they escape the kidnappers?  Alex had managed to break free of the tape on his mouth and bit the trash bag open.  When they were in the car, Alex got out of the bag and put the bag over him like a blanket, concealing himself from the kidnappers.  He then broke the other bags free and saved his family.  To keep any suspicion, they filled the bags with trash and used the tape from their mouths to tape the bags shut.  When the men approached the dark alley, Alex and his family snuck to the trunk of the truck.  The G.T.A. then took the trash bags and went inside.  That’s when Alex and his family made a run for it. They all ran away for their lives, with Alex’s dad carrying his 3-year-old brother. When they finally reached the nearest hotel, The Hilton, they got a room and relaxed. Mrs. Gates (Alex’s mom) called her neighborhood friends to check on her house and see if it’s OK. But to her dismay, her house was burned down. Alex, who was bored out of his mind, went to the lobby to see if they had any games. When he found out they did, he brought his brother and parents, and together they all went into the game room. The game room was a nice and peaceful area with table tennis, 3 couches and a plasma screen T.V., foosball, and pool. Alex went straight to the foosball table and played his little brother and dad. Alex beat his little brother by a score of 10-3, but his dad was a lot better. He was tied 9-9 with his dad, and he had the ball. His mom was counting down from 10 as Alex passed the ball to his forward. Right when he was about to take a shot with 3 seconds left, a man walked into the room. Alex looked to see who it was, and the ball rolled to his dad. His dad, taking advantage of this great opportunity, shot the ball and scored in the final second. Alex looked back at the foosball table and laughed. The mysterious man was wearing a white suit and a pink/white/black-striped tie. He had on a pair of expensive designer shoes on that were also white. His complexion was of a tannish- brown color, and he had a fresh buzz cut with a unique design carved in it. The man also had a pink handkerchief sticking out of his shirt pocket with a small print on it that said “Dibs”. The man walked toward the couches and sat in one of them. He then picked up the remote and switched the T.V. on. When he did, two men dressed in football jerseys appeared. He changed the channel to the Kron 4 newscast and concentrated on the screen. Alex soon stopped staring at the man and went back to playing with his family. But his whole family turned to the television and started listening to the conversation. A picture of their house was shown on the large hi-def screen and there was also a signature on their door. The television said that a mysterious man bombed the house and signed the door afterwards. They said that the name on this door was Dibson McCarthy. When the man on the sofa heard that name, he turned and smiled at the family. Alex knew it was him.

Dibs got off the couch and approached Alex slowly. Mr. Gates guarded Alex and got in his fighting stance. But Dibs just pulled out a gun and called in his men. The Gates family yelled for help but it was to no avail. When the men carried Alex and his family out to Dibs’ Chevy Escalades, there were Hilton security workers lined up outside on the floor. This time the big men were holding Alex and his family in the car. Instead of going to their usual hideout, Dibs traveled to a lonely desert- like area with no buildings or anything. He then took the Gates out of the car and questioned them.

“Where’s da money at? I know you just created some sort o’ diamond that extracts da sun’s rays and energy, formin’ an indestructible weapon or object.”

“Yes, and as a matter of fact, the diamond is used for researching the sun. It is very powerful indeed, and that is why you men probably want it right.”

“I don’t like no small talk. Jus’ give me da diamond an’ we cool. I’ll get ya a new house, and I won’t kill you. So talk up buddy or Alex goes first.”

Dibs pointed his gun at Alex. Simultaneously, Alex pulled out a gun that looked exactly the same. When he did this, Dibs’ men also pulled out their sub-machine guns, pointing directly at Alex.

“Relax. Relax. It’s just a fake gun. I just wanted to have proof that you guys were going to kill me.”

As Alex shot bubbles into the air, a powerful light shined through the car. “Stop the car now, Stop the car and out with your hands in the air,” said the loudspeaker of a FBI helicopter. Soon, the siren of cop cars filled the desert. Dibs made a dash for it in his Escalade, but was easily flat-tired in a few seconds. He too put his hands up.

Chapter 4

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Pick me,” screamed the impatient boy.  Alex was hopping around like a hungry monkey waiting for a banana.

“OK fine, Alex. What is the derivative of 3x² + x⁴/6? And please if you don’t know, don’t try. If you give one more smart com-.”

“Don’t worry teach’. I got a good one today. All right here it is. The derivative of (3x² – x⁴/6) is solved as two separate equations. First you solve the derivative of 3x², which is 6x. Then you solve the derivative of (- x⁴/6), which would be… hmmmm… According to my calculations, if you take the power, which is four, and multiply the front by it, you get (-2x⁴/3), and then you deduct the power by one, you get (-2x³/3). Now for the grand finally, you combine the two problems. 6x – 2x³/3.”

“U-uh, t-that was a-am-amazing. B-but how Alex. I’m so proud of you. You just solved an 11^th grade problem with ease. Even I understood what you were saying for once!”

“Ah, it’s nothin’ special. You just have to put your mind to whatever your doing and never give up. If you keep trying, you will succeed.”              

Nimarit Walia
7o English
2/10/09

Prologue

Zack Mason lay down on the deserted basketball courts and yelled, “Why me? Why?” The young 13-year-old boy slowly arose, revealing a cluster of tears and bruises lining his face and body. Not only was he terribly injured, but he was also weeping like a waterfall. Being only 3 feet in height and the biggest science fanatic in his school, he was constantly being picked on by all the other kids. He had a strong passion to be taller, just like everyone else. But he would not grow, for he came from a family of midgets. He had one older sister that bossed him around and treated him like a slave, and one little brother that annoyed the living daylight out of him. All Zack wanted to be was normal. Anger filled within him each time he thought about how people abused him. He felt like he was the only person in the world.
Although Zack was a nerd and nobody liked him, he was quite a remarkable person. For example, he would always obey his parents, help the old and the handicapped, and always show respect to his elders. He never stole from people, and always addressed everyone properly. He was also very funny and smart. The only problem was that no one took the time to realize the great human being that he is.
However, there was one person who put aside Zack’s looks and saw him for what he really is. And that person is Jason Bold. Jason Bold is Zack’s only real friend, but he himself has many more. He was the most popular kid in school, and was six feet tall. He was the star quarterback for his football team, and was involved in many other “cool” activities. Unlike the usual popular brats that you hear about, Jason was nice and caring. He understood all of Zack’s feelings and helped him out a lot. Of course he couldn’t be there all the time for him, but he did a very good job of making Zack happy.
You might be wondering how this Jason can be so good, but he also has a bad side. He has no parents and is living with his 18-year-old brother, a famous detective known as Matt Mathews. His brother and him often work together to solve mysteries, but seldom do they use their own tools. As a matter of fact, stealing is not the only thing that they have done. They use violent manners in which they threaten people with deadly weapons to get information they need for a mission.
Their missions went from finding a missing person to fighting murderers. All this was done after they had finished their day’s work.
Chapter II
Zack fled from the treacherous murderer behind him. He dashed through dark alleys and leaped over small fences to avoid the killer. But this was not enough for his short stubby legs would only carry him so far until they were exhausted. Zack dove behind a city trashcan and nervously waited as the man walked past him. But he suddenly realized that he was not alone. He peered behind him and discovered another human, with his face painted black and with red eyes. The man was carrying a knife out in front of him that was smothered in blood. The mysterious man stood up, revealing his alien- like figure and his many gashes and cuts that were dripping blood. He gave Zack a slight smile, revealing his bloody, pointed teeth. Filled with fear and panic, Zack explode like Usain Bolt and darted down the alley into Times Square. But to his surprise, it was empty. That is until three identical men with blood scars covering their body surrounded him like towers. Zack threw up on the spot and fainted. He was too terrified to even breathe.
Zack woke up realizing that it was all a dream. He was back in his own bed again, feeling more comfortable than ever. He pulled up the covers and fell asleep again, this time thinking of little ponies in a vast meadow eating the grass. He was again awakened, but this time by his mother. She was standing on a stool to reach the bed, and was gently tapping his shoulder. Zack awoke with ease and hugged his mother. She welcomed him in her arms and quickly left the room. Zack pulled the sheets of his body and then got out of bed. He ached from the vast number of bruises and cuts covering his body. He painfully approached the window of his room and opened up the blinds to reveal another snowy day. Luckily for him, it was the weekend and he could relax at home.
After he ate a hearty breakfast of bacon, egg, bread, and milk, he slumped down on his couch and started to play his XBOX 360. He munched down a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos and was covered with ice packs while he played Call of Duty 4. Suddenly he heard the doorbell ring and his best friend Jason was at the door. “Come on outside Zack, I gotta show you something.”
“I’ll be right down,” said Zack, quickly getting dressed and rushing down the stairs to accompany his friend. “I’ll be back in a bit, Mom.”
“Make sure you have on good clothes honey,” Zack’s mother exclaimed.
“All right mom. Bye.”
Zack and Jason left the house and started towards the city park. When they got there, the kid inside both Zack and Jason became alive. It seemed like the kid in everyone had come out, because every single person was jumping up and down, playing in the snow. Whether they were sliding down the gigantic slide, having snow fights, or just taking a walk through the beautiful park, everyone was having fun. That is until the “Big Bad Bullies” arrived.
“Would ya look at this, little Zacky- Wacky is hiding behind his bodyguard. Oh no, they’re going to beat us up now.” The seniors surrounded them and kept taunting them to hit them. Finally, one of the boys pushed Zack down to the floor. Jason socked him in his nose and dropped him to the ground within seconds. With fury raging through his entire body, he grabbed another one of the boys and threw him at the other. They fell to the floor as well. When he turned back to check on Zack, he was gone. He figured that he ran home. Carelessly walking away, one of the seniors tackled him to the floor and started punching him. The other two boys joined him and together they pinned Jason down. Then they stuffed the snow down his mouth and each jumped on his back. They left him there for several minutes before he got up and limped away. He felt like he had just been beaten up by Rocky Balboa and he too went home.
Chapter III

When Zack reached home, he went to his laboratory (otherwise known as his room). He meddled around with various chemicals before he got up from his room and went to the kitchen. There he fetched a pale of water, a pinch of salt, a bucket of hot maple syrup, magnesium sulfate in a bottle, and olive oil. He then stirred all the contents of his experiment together and gulped it down rapidly. Without knowing or wanting to, he fell asleep.
When he woke up it was about ten in the morning. The sun shone through the blinds of his room and gave him a strange powerful feeling. He got up and discovered that he was much higher off the ground than usual. He felt his biceps bulging out of his arms and his abs rock solid. He looked in the mirror and did not see a measly short and weak fellow, but a tall, 7-foot boy that was immensely strong. He turned to open the door, but accidentally broke the handle. Not knowing what to do about the doorknob, he pushed the door open and it fell with a loud thud. His parents rushed down to see what had happened and screamed. They got a mop and a baseball bat out and threatened to hit the boy. But then they realized that the boy had exactly the same face as their son, and they nearly fainted. Zack clearly explained what he did and told him it was just for a day. They warned him to stop and told him that he was grounded. But instead of going to his room, he picked up the mop and flung it at the door. It flew through the air and exploded against the door, leaving a hole in the front door. Zack walked right through the door and left.
Once Zack was outside, he walked across the street without looking for oncoming cars. As he slowly approached the other side, he heard a loud honking noise and looked around himself. Suddenly, he saw a large black GMC headed towards him. He tried to jump out of the way but failed to do so. Right before the oncoming vehicle trampled him, he tried to let out a shriek but could not. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even move. His heart throbbed like he had just been shot in the chest, but nothing moved. The car was now not even an arm’s length away from him, and his heart skipped a beat. He could not face the end of his life, so he closed his eyes shut. The car collided with his body, making a huge noise that rung throughout the city. Zack looked around himself, noticing that everything was normal. The only difference was that there was a black GMC, or at least the remains of one, lying in the middle of the street. Confused, Zack thoroughly inspected his body for any signs of new blood or bruise. But there was nothing. His scars from the other night at the basketball courts were gone as well. He felt powerful, more powerful than ever. He felt like he was on top of the world, and not even a thousand armies could take him down.
Next, Zack walked across the lonely street and noticed one of the high school senior boys that had picked on him earlier. He was wearing a plain white- tee, a pair of baggy blue jeans, and had on extremely white shoes. He was hanging with his friends around his car. Zack excitedly walked towards the boy. The boy turned around and noticed that Zack was staring at him.
“What, you wanna go big boy?” asked the over- confident senior boy. Zack glared at him even more and started to turn red, his veins bulging out of his body. “Zack?” questioned the surprised boy. He saw Zack’s face under all of his muscle and started laughing. “Oh don’t tell me you bought those inflatable muscle things! Ha what a nerd. You think you’re so cool walking around here like you some type of macho- man. What happened now, Zacky- Wacky. You’re still weak and little, so get your head right punk.”
Without warning, Zack’s skin turned bloodshot red and he tore right through his own shirt. He had a tight 8- pack running down his stomach, which was also as red as can be. He picked up the boy’s brand new Dodge viper and chugged it all the way across the street. It’s custom paint job and rims were completely ruined as the large machine landed with the GMC. Terrified by the occurring incident, all of the high school boys ran for their live. But Zack leaped in the air and stomped on the ground like the Hulk. The floor cracked with the heavy impact. Zack had officially turned into a monster, slowly destroying the city piece by piece.
Chapter IV
Zack continued down the city, clobbering everything that came into his path. He even came up to a gas station and dripped the oil all over the place before lighting it on fire with his breath. The whole place exploded, leaving a large gust of smoke in the air. Pretty soon the cops were on to him. He saw countless helicopters riding overhead and several more cop cars surrounding him. Even the S.W.A.T. team was there to capture the strange figure. Zack was all over the news, known as the real “Hell-Boy.” When Jason heard about this horrifying news of the new villain, Zack, he dashed to his big brother who always knew what to do. Matt left his brother for a few moments and then came back with two brand new, slick brown suits that were lined with a fine black. It had various pockets for various things. Matt gave one of them to Jason and Jason started changing his clothes. When they both finally got into the suits, they wore a dark black, cowboy hat and scurried to Zack’s house. They were welcomed in by his parents, who had a sad, abandoned look on their face. They told Matt and Jason everything they knew, hoping that they could stop their son’s rise to evil. They said that they would be on the case and try to solve it as soon as possible. When they left the house, they saw the totaled vehicles and the ripped up clothing on the ground. They wondered how to stop Zack and finally came up with a plan. They met Zack at Times Square, right next to the pay phone. He was still as red as could be and was still extremely strong. Except for the first time Zack had a look of confidence on his face. That look had created so much emotion between Jason and Zack that Jason went up to try to hug his good friend. But by simple reflexes, Zack turned around and accidentally hit Jason. Jason flew about 30 yards before smacking into a brick wall. He lay on the wall like a dead man, for he was out cold. Zack realized what he had done and immediately ran toward Jason. But right when Zack moved, the S.W.A.T. team moved in on him. They wrestled him down and pounded him several times before yelling, “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you, you big piece of meat.” All seventy- two of the police squad there pointed their guns at Zack. But all he could look at was his dying friend. He shoved the men off him and fought his way through the crowd of men. Right when he was about to make it to Jason, he was shot in the chest. Then he was shot in the leg. Next the arm. Then the other arm. Pain covered his mind and body as he was slowly lowered to his knees. In that split- second, he thought of all his fun times with is mother, how she had picked him up when he was little and played with him. He thought of the numerous times his family had looked out for him and helped him through everything that seemed hard to him. He also thought about Jason, and how he had stood up for him so often and cared for him so much. Finally his stream of thoughts was broken as three rifling shots punctured his skull. He then transformed back into his normal self, reaching his hand out for his friend. But he suddenly stopped and froze. His weary eyes turned white and his bloody face went pale. His jaw hung to the ground and he lay as still as a statue. He was completely motionless and lifeless. After him followed Jason, whose eyes were shut and who lay on the ground unconscious.

Epilogue

Zack went on to be one of the most popular kids at school. All the girls thought that he was adorable and were all his close friends. He won the science fair each and every year and also won the MVP award for golf. He ended up playing against the best. Phil Mickelson, Tiger Woods, and Vijay Singh all kneeled at his feet (well kneeled down to his head) when he won the world championship. In the trophy presentation, he invited Jason up to the winning circle and gave him the trophy. “You deserve it my friend. You are the real hero.” Jason hugged his little friend and picked him up on his back while the wild crowd of 1400 people all cheered for the most valuable golfer and the award- winning author. Author? Yes, author. When Zack was shot in the head, Matt quickly dropped a special potion in each of the three holes on his head. The potion restored his skull and brain back to the way it was. The secret potion was never known for Matt continued to conceal his secrets. Jason woke up in a hospital bed next to Zack, and they both were alive. All of the other bullets were extracted from the boy’s body. When Zack transformed into his former self, the bullets turned into dust due to the ingredients of his chemical. And Jason wrote a book on all of these happenings and called it The Evolution.

THE END!

Nimarit Walia

English 7^o

Blind Freedom

What is freedom? Freedom may often be described as the ability to do anything you want to at any given time. Many of us think that freedom is going to the movies with friends without being supervised by an adult. Others think that freedom is simply being able to mind your own business and relax. But is that what “freedom” really means? Are we free at school or work? Are we free at home? These questions all have to do with the way you look at freedom.

Being free isn’t exactly doing whatever you want. For example, being free does not give a person the right to rob a bank just because he wants to and not get in trouble. Freedom is the ability or opportunity to do something. The United States has given us the right to live freely and happily, as long as we don’t put a bad affect on another person or object. A lot of us abuse this right and bully other people around just because we are bigger and stronger than them. But this does not make the person being bullied free. That person is being denied his/her rights, and the only thing to do is to punish those who abuse other people.

At schools, many people try to go with the flow and do what everyone else is doing so that they don’t look weird or look like an outcast. They take away their own freedom to be average. The real freedom comes from the people who, without being told, do things that affect themselves and represents whom they are. Although people have the freedom to say whatever they want to, they cannot talk back to an adult or say something harmful to someone else. Also, some people think that they are not free at school because they are constantly being bossed around or being told what to do by the teacher. If the teachers were never strict and always let you have fun in class, then you wouldn’t learn anything and you probably wouldn’t get a good job.

When you are at home, you usually just want to kick back and relax by watching some T.V. or playing video games. But you have to take responsibility and finish all your work or chores that you have to do. When you have finished your main priorities, you can finally be “free.” This means that you can do what you want (play, watch T.V., hang out with friends, etc.).

As you can see, being free is not exactly doing whatever you want to do. Part of being free is following instructions and listening to others. You have to be responsible enough to put your work in front of your play. Being free is when you not only relax and do what you want to, but also when you work, listen to others, and take responsibility. Freedom is being independent with good causes.

Nimarit Walia

7^o English

The True American

I believe strongly in recognizing the brave people who sacrifice everything they have for the welfare of our citizens. Not only do we ignore the fact that Veterans’ day is a chance for us to recall all of the people who gave their lives or put it in danger to save our country, we just think of it as a day off of work or school. We need to remember all of those people who took an act in saving our country’s freedom. Those people, some well known to us, and some who will never be recognized individually, some alive and some long gone, are the reason why I believe in the patriots (veterans).

It was a terrible night on April 4^th, 1968 where Martin Luther King Jr. had been assassinated at 6:01 p.m. A very intelligent preacher who fought for freedom and equal rights was gone. But his wise words and influencing beliefs were not. He believed strongly in nonviolence and never hit another person. Although he was beaten several times for boycotting and not listening to the policemen, he never fought back. Instead he gave more speeches about freedom and equality and led more boycotts. He sacrificed everything he had to help everyone else live freely. Martin Luther King Jr. was willing to die for his people’s freedom and never stopped believing. All he wanted was to save his fellow African Americans from discrimination. This man was a patriot, and we will never forget the horrible shooting at Lorraine motel in Memphis, Tennessee.

On December 7^th, 1941 a deathly bomb hit Pearl Harbor. It was just after 7:00 p.m. when the U.S. Pacific Fleet spotted a rush of Japanese aircrafts. The next thing they knew was there were bombs flying everywhere. Torpedo, dive, and horizontal bombers were unleashed. The U.S. troops immediately left their belongings behind and dove into action. They sacrificed their lives to save the people of the United States. They ran through bombs, dodged upcoming missiles, and fought through the crowd of fellow army men like LaDainian Tomlinson of the San Diego Chargers football team. They fought to keep our nation safe and maintain people’s freedom. Separated from loved ones, they lost their lives and/or treasured items. These patriots put their lives in danger to prevent further damage during the air raid by the Japanese air force.

Even today there are many U.S. soldiers fighting to stop terrorism in Iraq. These soldiers fight to bring us all freedom and oil. They give up their family and friends to protect us. Some never even get a chance to see their new- born babies. They miss birthdays, weddings, and graduations because of the army. They put their lives at risk to save thousands of other people in the U.S. Rarely eating, sleeping, drinking, and relaxing, they run through fields of bullets, and mines. These men are all patriots, willing to give up everything for their country. While we are at home relaxing and watching T.V., they are in Iraq fighting for peace. I believe strongly in recognizing the veterans of our country. Veterans fight like there is no tomorrow, never giving up until they’ve won. Saving our country is their main objective.

Nimarit Walia 7o English

Hatrick Hero

           

 

     “Nimarit, get up, quickly,” my mom said as she shook me until I woke up.  It was 5:00 a.m. and I was getting ready to play a brutal soccer match against the U13 Santa Rosa team.  I was nervous, but at the same time excited.  They were very physical and had an extremely large line up.  Whoever won would advance to the semifinals in the Nor Cal State Cup.  I leaped out of bed and scurried off to the bathroom.  After I took a steaming shower, I ate two raisin bagels and started to load up on water.  The more water I drank, the less tired I would be during the 70- minute match.

          We ended up leaving our house at about 6:15 a.m.  We were headed to the Amador Valley High School in Pleasanton, which takes about an hour to get to.  When we finally got there at 7:10, my whole team was waiting for me.  My team, Ballistic United, was the #2 team in northern California.  This was my first year playing for the Pleasanton traveling team, and I had started to get along with everybody.  I am one of the two forwards on my team, and my only job is to put the ball in the back of net.  And this was a great chance to prove myself to my team, my coach, and my opponents.

          The game started with the ball at our feet.  We moved the ball around the field, making the other team chase us and get tired.  We exchanged several shots on goal, but none of them went in.  Then, my teammate blasted the ball downfield and waited for me to start my engine.  I took off for the ball and zipped by the defenders of the other team.  As I approached the last defender, I felt like I was in the spotlight.  I stopped the ball and rifled a shot into the top left of the goal.  Right when it was about to go in, it curved away and hit the post.  I couldn’t believe that I had missed.  I felt horrible thinking about the glory I could have had if I made that beautiful shot. 

     The first half continued scoreless.  They almost had a chance in front of goal, but the player whiffed the ball and we got on a counter attack.  One of our midfielders, Alex, went by two players and chipped the ball up the field.  I once again started my engine, but this time I kept going and going and going.  I was just like the Energizer bunny.  When I reached the goalie, I faked a shot to the left and I darted to the right.  He dove in the wrong direction and I passed the ball into the net for a goal.  I leaped in to the air out of joy and I heard everyone screaming my name.  We were up 1-0.

          The second half started with constant attacks by Santa Rosa.  They kept us on our toes, but never managed to finish.  We took advantage of this and kept countering.  I eventually scored another goal the same exact way.  In the last 20 minutes or so, we had the game under control.  We were up 2-0 and we were controlling the midfield, offense, and defense.  We almost had the game put away but we couldn’t let down yet.  If they scored a goal, they’d be right back in the game. 

     A tall defender on the other team screamed out to me. He said, “You suck, you think you’re good but all you are is a piece of dirty Indian sh*t.”  I immediately rushed towards him, offended by his words, and asked him to repeat what he said.  But before he could say anything, the blue, black, and white soccer ball that had been punted up by the goalie landed on his head.  He fell down to the floor, leaving the ball right in front of me.  After I had finished laughing my head off, I started towards the goal and I saw three defenders, waiting for me to come at them.  I charged at them and passed the ball to Alex, who was at the midfield line.  He ran to the sideline with the ball and kicked it over the defenders.  It landed about 10 yards in front of me and was calling my name.  “Nimarit, Nimarit.  Come and get me,” it said.  I immediately sprinted towards the ball and shot it with tremendous force.  But right after I shot the ball, one of the defenders on the opposite team knocked me down with tremendous force.  I fell to the ground with a thud as I saw a white blur soar past the goalie and into the net.  The next thing I knew, all of the parents and my team were congratulating me.  We had won 3-0 and had advanced to the semi- finals.  I felt proud of myself as I walked back to my parents, who congratulated me on my goals.  “You did it son,” my dad said proudly.  My eyes started to water from my happiness, and I knew in my heart that I had proved myself well.

 

 

Nimarit Walia English 7o

Learning the Truth

 

     As I awoke from my sleep on a cold shivering morning, I heard no sounds at all.  I took off my blanket and sprinted at full speed to my parent’s room, only to discover that there was no one there.  I darted over to my sister’s rooms and found that there was no one there either.  My 4-year-old head filled with terrible thoughts about how my family had been kidnapped or how they ran away from me.  I felt like I was on a deserted island, isolated from everything I love.  I started crying because I was afraid I was going to die without my family. As I pondered about where in the world my family could be, I heard a small voice. Suddenly I felt a hand grab my shoulder and spin me around.

     I gave out a terrifying screech as I leaped backwards from the figure.  But instead of seeing a blood- thirsty killer like I had imagined, I saw a familiar face underneath a heap of blankets.  It was my older sister, Jasmine.  She hurried over to me and whispered something in my ear.  I once again leaped up into the air like Michael Jordan and fell on my behind.  But this time it wasn’t out of fear, but out of shock.  I approached my sister, who was patiently waiting for my response, and asked her if she was serious.  She stared at me with an expressionless face and said, “Yes”. 

     I turned toward the stairs and rushed down, hopping over two steps at a time.  Once I arrived downstairs, a crowd of sobbing people surrounded me.  I went to my mom with a questioning look and she informed me of the sorrowful event that had just taken place in New Delhi, India.  My uncle, who had recently married my aunt (my dad’s sister), had passed away. 

     I started recalling all of the good times we spent together.  I remembered the hundreds of times he carried me on his back and bought me chocolates.  I also remembered the times when he would play games with me and always let me win, making me overjoyed by the fact that I won.  But the most important memory I have of him is when he sat in his special throne on his wedding reception with my aunt next to him, carrying me in his lap like an extremely expensive piece of jewelry.  He would showcase me to the cameras that were constantly flashing and wouldn’t let me go.  It was the last time I had seen him, other than when he dropped us off to the airport.  We stayed in touch on the phone though, but it just wasn’t the same.  He was the only elderly person that played with me and didn’t treat me like a baby.  We would have long, detailed conversations over the phone, and he would always listen patiently.  He was extremely special to me and irreplaceable.  Everyone missed him, and the hundreds of tears shed that day proved it. 

  

 

 

The Brave Bear

 

 

 

 

     Every night before I went to bed, I would always take out my stuffed bear.  But this bear was not just any stuffed animal.  He was a nice, cheerful bear, who could sing and tell stories.  Whenever I gave him a hug (or squeezed his soft, furry stomach), he would start telling the story of “The Little Tin Soldier” in a gentle, soothing voice.  He came with a small storybook, and whenever I got the chance I would give him a hug and read along with him.  I played with him so much that I knew the story by heart.  My family had become good friends with the big brown bear, and they started calling him “Mr. Bear.”  As a matter of fact, my family had memorized the bear’s story as well. 

     My constant over playing of Mr. Bear annoyed my oldest sister, who was only 10 years old at the time.  She decided to hide him from me one day, and she “accidentally” hurled him into the dryer.  The next few days, I had been wondering where Mr. Bear was, and I couldn’t sleep without him.  I thought maybe he had been kidnapped.

     My mom had to carry out her normal routine of washing and drying the clothes.  After removing all of the clothes from the dryer, she noticed some white fur pieces dangling from one of the shirts.  She peered cautiously into the dryer and discovered a small stuffed animal lying on its side.  Its body was torn everywhere, revealing the ghostly white fur on the inside.  She called me down and I saw what had happened to Mr. Bear.  Seeing him in this condition was too much for my little eyes.  I was heart- broken when I hugged him and his head fell off, but I was even more disappointed when he didn’t sing.  From that day on, I hated kidnappers because of how they tortured my innocent bear. 

     I ended up finding out that my sister was the evil culprit.  I started to dislike her too, until she bought me a stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh.  Although it didn’t sing, it clapped its hands and gave me comfort throughout my lonely nights as a 4-year-old.        

 

Naming a Nimarit

 

            As my mother lay in the bed of the Redlands Hospital with a brand new boy squealing in her arms, she and her husband pondered on what to name me.  They called in their two daughters to come see the baby that would soon be taking all the attention away from them.  They “ooh and awed” in sight of their new brother and started coming up with names for him.  But my parents never approved of any of them.  Instead, they asked my grandparents to go to the temple.  There my grandparents went to the priest and asked him to perform special prayers for their new grandson.  After the priest had finished the prayers, he took out the Holy book and flipped to a random page.  The first letter on the page was what the baby’s name would start with.  And the first letter on the page was “N. “ My grandparents rushed back to the hospital as fast as a bullet.  When they got there, they told my parents the letter that the name would start with.  My impatient parents started blurting out every name that came to their mind.  When my dad said “Nimarit,” my whole family stood in silence.  Finally, my mom started smiling and everybody knew we had hit the gold.  

            Although my name was made through a very thoughtful process, it wasn’t all that great in elementary school.  A kid that was always mad at me for schooling him in soccer started calling me “Nim-rat,” “Nim-brat,” and even “Nimrod” as I walked back after scoring a goal.  But when I made fun of his name to show him how it felt, he stopped the name-calling.  Also, whenever I get a new teacher or a substitute and they take roll aloud, they usually pronounce my name incorrectly.  But nobody I know has the same name as me, and that’s what makes my name unique.

            All in all, I think that my name is very interesting and distinctive.  With only one Nimarit in the region, I never get mixed up with anyone else.