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Monday, December 19, 2016
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Holden Wins Writing Competition
Holden beat out 270 other contestants in a Brea Junior High Competition for autobiographical essays with the following essay. He was awarded a gift card to In-n-Out.
“Ugh, Holden stop whining,” my mother begged. As a young toddler, there would rarely ever be a moment without whining. “ Nooo! I want to play bubbles outside,” I exclaimed. My mother just stood there, as I went on and on. She finally had enough and walked over to turn on some cartoons. “Sit down Holden, I’m just going to take a short nap,” she said with a calming but demanding voice. I knew once my mother had used that tone, she was done. I was mad, but I knew it would have been best to let her calm down and sleep a little. At least that way I would have some alone time to plot my revenge.
Sitting in front of the tv watching my favorite cat and mouse duo, I thought to myself, “Who does she think she is? Taking a nap while I’m down here dying of boredom.” I stared at that glowing box, observing the small mouse torture and torment the large cat. It gave me an idea. So many heinous thoughts went through my young, immature mind. “I could put a stick of dynamite under her pillow, rub butter all over the stairs so she would slip, throw a paper airplane into her eye,” I dreamt. Of course all of my thoughts were extremely too violent and horrid for me to execute, but who doesn’t think about hurting someone when you’re mad at them. I couldn’t figure out what to do.
I droned around my house just looking for the perfect crime. I knew it couldn’t be too dangerous or nasty, but it had to be drastic enough to leave a message. A message that said, “Don’t ever mess with me! When I want bubbles, we are going to play with bubbles!” I wandered through the kitchen, glancing over every little detail. And in an instant, I found my perfect crime.
The mysterious fruit. Since a very young age, my mother had always warned me to never go near that fruit. The strange, round edges, the red, bold color, the thick, green stem. I knew it wasn’t just any ordinary fruit. There was something off about it, but I just couldn’t figure it out. No matter how many thoughts went through my mind about what my mother had tried to hide from me through so many years, I somehow knew that it was for my own good. Although I came to the conclusion that my mother had only been trying to help, by telling me not to touch the mysterious fruit, nothing could stop me from finding out what mysteries were held inside.
I walked over to the fruit and on the way, I thought of every single potential outcome that fruit might have contained for me. “Could it be magical? Could it be explosive?” I asked myself. I stared at it for a moment before picking it up. Wondering if I should actually go through with this rebellious deed. After a short moment of silence, I picked up the fruit. My hand barely wrapped around the fruit itself. The very odd shape of it confused me. It was long and carrot like. I knew I shouldn’t just eat it from the bottom up. Something told my curious mind I should just bite it right in its side. And so I did.
I don’t know why, but when I bit into it, my brain told me to suck all the juice out. I had never made such a horrible decision since. The moment that satanic juice touched my tongue, I knew what I bit into was no ordinary fruit. What I had just sunk my teeth into was thick, ripe, luscious pepper. I instantly threw the pepper far away. My face turned red. Crying and sobbing, I rushed over to the fridge to get a mouthful of water. To my surprise, the water only made it worse. Screaming all around the kitchen, I tried to rub away the tears from my eyes. As a young toddler, I didn’t have much experience with spiciness, so every decision I made was exactly the wrong one.
With both my eyes and mouth burning, I thought of how much trouble I had just gotten myself into. In a panic, I rushed to the first place I thought I could hide. I choose behind the T.V. It was just then when my mother finally had awoken from her nap to rush downstairs and find my lonely self cowardly taking cover behind a TV stand. I gave up on trying to stay out of trouble and just begged for help from my mother. “Oh my gosh Holden! What did you do?!” she screamed. I was too hysterical at the time to tell her. She picked me up and tried to calm me down, while also searching the room for the reason of my terror. It was only after all of the screaming and crying when she found the juiceless, bitten into pepper in the other room. “It was shaped like a carrot and red like an apple,” I told my mother. I had lucked out and my mother decided not to punish me, I assumed she thought all the crying and pain was enough already.
All of the panicking passed and I made it through one of the most dramatic experiences in my life. I learned two things that day: first, always listen to what your parents tell you because it will most likely be for your own good, and second, no matter how much I bother, annoy, and torment my mother, she will always pick me up, wipe away my tears, and give me a big hug. No matter how mad I will ever get, she is my mother, and I will always love her.
The End
“It was shaped like a carrot and red like an apple.”
My mother had always told me never to go near that mysterious fruit, but at the time, I just needed a way to get back at her. And there it was, sitting right across the room. I was just a curious, innocent toddler, who had no idea what treacherous and perilous affairs that bewildering, red fruit had in store for me.“Ugh, Holden stop whining,” my mother begged. As a young toddler, there would rarely ever be a moment without whining. “ Nooo! I want to play bubbles outside,” I exclaimed. My mother just stood there, as I went on and on. She finally had enough and walked over to turn on some cartoons. “Sit down Holden, I’m just going to take a short nap,” she said with a calming but demanding voice. I knew once my mother had used that tone, she was done. I was mad, but I knew it would have been best to let her calm down and sleep a little. At least that way I would have some alone time to plot my revenge.
Sitting in front of the tv watching my favorite cat and mouse duo, I thought to myself, “Who does she think she is? Taking a nap while I’m down here dying of boredom.” I stared at that glowing box, observing the small mouse torture and torment the large cat. It gave me an idea. So many heinous thoughts went through my young, immature mind. “I could put a stick of dynamite under her pillow, rub butter all over the stairs so she would slip, throw a paper airplane into her eye,” I dreamt. Of course all of my thoughts were extremely too violent and horrid for me to execute, but who doesn’t think about hurting someone when you’re mad at them. I couldn’t figure out what to do.
I droned around my house just looking for the perfect crime. I knew it couldn’t be too dangerous or nasty, but it had to be drastic enough to leave a message. A message that said, “Don’t ever mess with me! When I want bubbles, we are going to play with bubbles!” I wandered through the kitchen, glancing over every little detail. And in an instant, I found my perfect crime.
The mysterious fruit. Since a very young age, my mother had always warned me to never go near that fruit. The strange, round edges, the red, bold color, the thick, green stem. I knew it wasn’t just any ordinary fruit. There was something off about it, but I just couldn’t figure it out. No matter how many thoughts went through my mind about what my mother had tried to hide from me through so many years, I somehow knew that it was for my own good. Although I came to the conclusion that my mother had only been trying to help, by telling me not to touch the mysterious fruit, nothing could stop me from finding out what mysteries were held inside.
I walked over to the fruit and on the way, I thought of every single potential outcome that fruit might have contained for me. “Could it be magical? Could it be explosive?” I asked myself. I stared at it for a moment before picking it up. Wondering if I should actually go through with this rebellious deed. After a short moment of silence, I picked up the fruit. My hand barely wrapped around the fruit itself. The very odd shape of it confused me. It was long and carrot like. I knew I shouldn’t just eat it from the bottom up. Something told my curious mind I should just bite it right in its side. And so I did.
I don’t know why, but when I bit into it, my brain told me to suck all the juice out. I had never made such a horrible decision since. The moment that satanic juice touched my tongue, I knew what I bit into was no ordinary fruit. What I had just sunk my teeth into was thick, ripe, luscious pepper. I instantly threw the pepper far away. My face turned red. Crying and sobbing, I rushed over to the fridge to get a mouthful of water. To my surprise, the water only made it worse. Screaming all around the kitchen, I tried to rub away the tears from my eyes. As a young toddler, I didn’t have much experience with spiciness, so every decision I made was exactly the wrong one.
With both my eyes and mouth burning, I thought of how much trouble I had just gotten myself into. In a panic, I rushed to the first place I thought I could hide. I choose behind the T.V. It was just then when my mother finally had awoken from her nap to rush downstairs and find my lonely self cowardly taking cover behind a TV stand. I gave up on trying to stay out of trouble and just begged for help from my mother. “Oh my gosh Holden! What did you do?!” she screamed. I was too hysterical at the time to tell her. She picked me up and tried to calm me down, while also searching the room for the reason of my terror. It was only after all of the screaming and crying when she found the juiceless, bitten into pepper in the other room. “It was shaped like a carrot and red like an apple,” I told my mother. I had lucked out and my mother decided not to punish me, I assumed she thought all the crying and pain was enough already.
All of the panicking passed and I made it through one of the most dramatic experiences in my life. I learned two things that day: first, always listen to what your parents tell you because it will most likely be for your own good, and second, no matter how much I bother, annoy, and torment my mother, she will always pick me up, wipe away my tears, and give me a big hug. No matter how mad I will ever get, she is my mother, and I will always love her.
The End
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