www.whyville.net Nov 14, 2010 Weekly Issue

Guest Writer

Maybe My Life is Pretty Good After All

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I'm a good kid, a little quiet. People often tell me how mysterious and secretive I am. They think I must be hiding something from my past that hurts me enough to not want to tell anyone anything about me. Some people don't like the way I am, they wish I wouldn't be so shy. But maybe there is a reason I'm shy, maybe there is a reason I don't want anybody to know about my personal life. Then again, I'm not telling you, so you won't ever know.

I used to be bad. I used to be real bad; in elementary I was rude. I was intolerable, and terribly ignorant. I got smart with my teachers; I was sent to the office a lot. Since then I've kept myself isolated, and I think I like it. In my earlier years of life I would classify my life as wonderful. I'd say that I had all the toys I could dream of. But I've grown out of toys, and I've grown out of smiles and showing my cute dimples. Now, there sits a twelve year old kid in place of a shy sweet child.

I wasn't always be so sure that I was going to make it in this world. I was just a baby then, according to the older citizens of this world. They say I'm growing up, and I need to get a grip on reality. I've tried, and I've noticed that I have unexplained heart problems. The inside of me hurts; I can feel the pain. You won't ever know if I'm talking physically or emotionally, though, because I won't tell.

I'm not rich, and I'm not the most beautiful girl around. Don't get me wrong, I have quite a high confidence level. But I'm a new girl now. I don't have those ugly curly braids I used to wear everyday. The gap between my teeth has sealed, and my dimples are becoming harder to notice. I've got new beliefs; I've got different interests and I've dropped a few bad habits.

But maybe I'm a pessimist. And I don't like everything I see, unless it's got something to do with Michael Jackson. Seriously, maybe I'm just not looking at it the right way. If I turn my head to the right, squint one eye, close the other, hold my breath, and close my mouth, I think I can see a spot of happiness. Anyway, the point of this whole thing was basically . . . try taking a different glance at life when you think everything has fallen to pieces.

Here's some things good about my life: I'm not homeless, my family has money, I'm everyone's favorite sibling, and I have four pets that I love. I guess that maybe my life is good after all, even though I'm that quiet and mean kid I'll possibly grow out of one day.


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