Being a teen during the late 1980s is challenging for Katrina Lombardo.
Living in a world where trials and tribulations is present in her life frustrates her to the max.
Her feelings are balanced out with her family, friends and a certain young ma...
A bit lengthy, but it's worth with it (that's what he said) hope you enjoy :)
Katrina
September 15, 1987
10:47am
'If you have no critics, you'll likely have no success.' Malcolm X
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Tapping the end of my pencil against the desk, my mind continued to wonder on what subject I wanted to write about for my poem assignment. The whole class was assigned to do a fifteen line poem using at least three poetic devices, Mr.Grey didn't specify the subject matter, just to follow the guidelines.
I don't even have my WalkMan on, that's how much I want to focus right now. There are a few sentences that I wrote on my paper but they don't make sense.
"You need any help over here?" I heard a unrecognizable male voice asked from beside me, slightly turning my head to the right, I raised my head up to see his face, it was Elijah.
"Is it that obvious?" I sheepishly responded, he let out a low chuckle, "Not really. I just noticed you weren't really writing and you don't have any music playing. You always listen to music." I mentally raised my eyebrow at his statement, "Um, how would you know that?"
His shoulders raised, "You always have your headphones on with your music blasting, jamming in your seat. Today, you just have them around your neck, being still." It's funny how he's taking mental notes on me, I'm sure his girl wouldn't be fond of it. Matter of fact, Journey's not even in class right now, she probably stayed home.
"You probably think I'm a creep or sum, my bad. I'm a people watcher."
"People watcher?" I repeated, now giving him my full attention.
"Yeah. Someone who observes everything and everyone not giving a care if they get spotted," he chuckled at his comment, "anyways, do you need any help?"
"Yeah, sure." he pulled up the empty desk beside him, placing it a few inches next to me before sliding into the seat. "So, what do have a problem with?"
"I don't know what to write about."
"Okay, what do you like to do?" he quizzed, looking directly at my face, I avoided eye contact, "Uh, music, that was obvious, dancing, cooking..."
"What is your favorite out of those three?"
"Dancing." I revealed not thinking twice about it.
"Cool, now write about two or three stanzas on it." Elijah instructed, his eyes still not leaving my face.
