www.whyville.net Sep 19, 2007 Weekly Issue

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Wool Sweater: Chapter 2

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Author's Note: In order for my story to maintain its organization I must send in smaller portions of it. Thank you.

This "phase" as my mom calls it all started because of this email I received:

To: Paige Johnson

Meat eaters beware. I was just like you all once. I used any product, I bought anything I wanted, and I ate whatever I pleased. But I have changed and you can too.

I no longer buy anything that does not say, "not tested on animals." I no longer buy anything with any trace of leather. Yes, I even threw out my expensive Louis Vuitton. I no longer eat meat, drink milk, eat eggs, or anything that has anything to do with animals. I now protest in front of animal testing centers and the occasional farm.

Save another animals life why don't you?

It's simple actually, and your saving animals.

Become a vegan!

Support us.

Sarah Miller @ vegandiaries.com

This girl, Sarah Miller, was such a huge inspiration to me. I sent this e-mail on to all 232 contacts of mine. No one replied. No one passed it on. This made me think to myself, "Hey, no one else wants to make a difference, maybe I was the one who was sent." Ever since, meat has been history. Meat no longer exists in my world.

Now, being home might be an awful thing, but it is not as bad as school. Meats everywhere. Meat lunch, meat snacks, milk, chocolate, and even my friends are pro-meat. They don't know how I feel, but I secretly despise my closest friend Krista because she carries a Louis Vuitton handbag everywhere she goes, her backpack is leather Gucci, and she's always snacking on a glass of milk, or a slice of turkey jerky.

I know I should be supportive of my friend's decisions, but they should be mine. They should care about eating animal-by-products around me. Once Krista asked me to hold her handbag for her and then a broke down crying, and she just walked away. I never told her why I was in tears, or why I fell to the floor, I was just so disturbed by her. There is one person from school, that I know who is vegetarian. Rebecca Gilmore. I would hang out with her, but we are so far from a like. She's more of the bookworm, nerdy type and I am just the person who will read on the occasion, and only about animals: unharmed animals at that.

It is so hard for my parents to come up with meals that do not contain, milk or eggs. I can barely have anything. Some of my favorites that I miss are; fettuccine Alfredo, chocolate bars, and macaroni. Sometimes I get mad at myself for becoming a vegan. But my state of veganism has become a disease like bulimia. I just cannot stop not eating animal-by-products. I would stop, if I could, but I can't, and I am stuck this way, fifteen, five foot five and 107 pounds.

For my height I am too thin, and I am only skin and bones. I don't have a high muscle mass because I can't pump iron, because I don't have the fat to turn into muscle. You need fat, and muscle to survive, and these are some of the reasons my parents worry. I know I will die for this one day. I know it, my mom knows it, my dad knows it, and everyone knows it, except for my brother (he's too young to understand). Oh well, tomorrow would be a brand new day. Another day trying to escape the meat attacks of my fellow classmates, another day of thousands of animals to be slaughtered. Oh well right, its just what's supposed to happen. NOT! And another day, to have a huge English essay assigned, joy.

The next day, I woke up a little later than I was supposed to so I didn't have time for breakfast. Oh well anyway, my mom always tries to pill my orange juice. My little brother likes telling me, "Don't drink that orange juice Paige, it's made from the orange juice bear." I laughed the first time, but now I just stay silent. It really is rude if you think about it, but Peter's only 5 and children say rude, stupid things.

"Paige, are you ready?" My mom called up the stairs, "The bus will be here any minute."

"One second mom. I'm brushing my teeth." I spit into the sink.

"Hurry up though, you've got a major assignment today, and you've got a psychiatrist appointment to think about."

I got my backpack, and ran down the stairs, grabbing the end of the railing and swinging off the second last step like I always do. "Funny mom," I smiled. "But it is not happening." I slipped my thong-sandals and said, "Bye mom, love ya." And then I slammed the door.


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