Frieda Monologue

Mikayla Nellannej Fletcher is a seventeen year old girl residing in Johnson County, Tennessee. While her childhood was fraught with an unfortunate ensemble of severely negative influences, her resolve preceded her. Through trial and troubles she came out as only a slightly damaged, sweet, and ingenious person. This isn’t intended to be a passage about her history and personal development, but an account of my personal experience with her. I’m fortunate enough to have the title of her boyfriend, and even more fortunate to be able to call her my girlfriend. Only one other has had that privilege, one who certainly did not deserve the title. Even after his abuse and mistreatment Mikayla managed to preserve her demeanor when it comes to romance

LaTonya heads down the New Jersey turnpike back to Philadelphia. LaTonya was playing Anita Baker’s Rapture album loudly, singing off key with every song. Mya lays her head against the window as relentless rain begins pouring, thinking about her lost sisterhood. She had to admit, she hadn’t more alone in her life. She had Black, but his immense presence couldn’t fill the empty void Raven and Takia left. Girls can be mean, petty and vindictive, so when you find a woman who completely understands you, loves you even on your worst behavior; she’s more than a friend. Sister is more

Everyone remembers his or her first crush. Making the grand leap during adolescence from a child to a teenager brings about many unusual feelings and thoughts. It is usually around this time when most boys and girls begin to develop strong emotions directed toward the opposite sex, which can lead to some odd behavior. In Melanie McCabe’s poem “Paperboy,” the speaker uses imagery to make a coming of age poem much more vivid as she describes how a local paperboy made her feel as a young girl during this important transition in life.

Connie is represented as a 15 year old young lady who's making a grown-up persona for herself. She is constantly worried about the way she looks and has a propensity for “craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other people’s faces to make sure her own was all right” (Oates, 1). Connie is finding that she can draw in young men by dressing and styling her hair a specific way. She's insubordinate against her folks and always acts older than her age, which has put her at an unsafe disadvantage. She doesn't understand that she confuses her pretend world for reality. She considers herself a woman by her appearance, and talking to older guys gives her a feeling of control. Moreover, the music that Connie listens to is an escape from reality as well. Connie enjoys listening to music and “dreaming about boys” in the hot sun. The fantasies and satisfaction she finds in music is a long way from the genuine reality around her.

Whereas Connie is considered beautiful, June is seen as “plain and chunky” (496). Regardless of their differences, both girls have one thing in common, they both love to spend time with friends and Connie uses this to her advantage. On several occasions, a friend’s father has left them off at the mall, however once they arrive, Connie travels across the street “ to a drive-in restaurant where older kids hung out” ( 497). It is here that she comes into contact with her future assailant, but at the time she ignored his attention.

She walks to the centermost oak tree near Mason Hall, she finally has found the perfect shady spot on an 80-degree day. She passes the boy from her Psychology class and gives him a small smile. She’s taking a journey to a jungle she doesn’t normally observe, a place where many humans and animals inhabit. There isn’t a breeze and the air feels drier than usual. The Diag seems unfriendly today, as she sits down she’s nervous of her surroundings. She plants herself on a somewhat clean patch of grass and pulls out her shiny laptop. She is reading “Werner Herzog’s Conquest of the Useless” for her freshman English class. As she dives her way into the reading she starts to think about where she is, what is going on around her, and the journey that she is on. A bushy red squirrel approaches her, she’s confused why it’s coming so close and quickly gets up to escape its presence. “Why in the world is this squirrel so close to me” she thinks to herself. The girl moves from the tree but as she get up she starts to notice specific details she hasn’t before.

Fei Ting, or Frances Ching, lives with her single mother Gracie ever since Frances’ father had abandoned them both. Frances’ mother is manipulative and has her daughter’s future all planned out for her own convenience. Their family is small, broken and financially unstable. Bryon Douglas is a womanizer and had a couple of girlfriends before, however, he hadn’t dated long after his relationship with

Gwen walked outside only to get a face full of the cool, cold breeze gliding across her face. She had on a lightweight, zipped up maroon jacket that still kept her warm despite its thickness. She also was wearing a dark gray - almost black - beanie her dad had got her the Christmas before he joined the army to go fight in Afghanistan. She’d had it since she was 14. Her somewhat medium-length bright, blonde hair went down just a little past the hood of her jacket. Being 17, Gwen hopped into her bright white 2014 Volkswagen Jetta - not the most spacious car in the world, but it got her where she needed to go. She set off to go pick up her best friend, Lauren, to set off on another adventure. The city of Cleveland was pretty busy this morning, yet it was nothing compared to New York City or Tokyo.

?She [step-sister] liked to dress me up and curl my hair, but as I got older, I resisted. I was an active grubby kid. I didn?t want to wear dresses. I didn?t like dolls. I liked to play outside, wear an oversize Orange Crush hat, and do whatever Marcus was doing something athletic. If he ran, I ran. If he played baseball, I played baseball. If he rode his skateboard, I wanted to ride his skateboard-not mine, his, because mine was hot pink and girly (Solo: Memoir of Hope 11).?

I heard soft footsteps coming for my door. Knock, knock. “Come in,” I sighed. My mom opened the door and walked over to my bed. I could smell her sweet perfume, and was overwhelmed with a feeling of content. “Madison, my cell phone is out of minutes for the month and I need to call somebody about an ad on craigslist. It won’t be long, sweetheart.” Tony always paid her phone bill, and they were on the same contract. My feeling of content faded into disappointment. I argued with my mom for a short moment, and soon realized it was not worth it. I handed over my shiny, yet beat up purple flip phone. Mom, looking a little guilty, strolled out of my room. I decided to follow her so that I could help myself to some dinner. Holding my phone in her hand, my mom, almost skipping, made it down the stairs and out the front door in record time. “Why is she going outside to make a phone call?” I asked myself. I searched the fridge and the cupboards for any sign of food that actually looked good to me. I didn’t find anything, so I huffed to myself and turned out of the deserted kitchen and back up the stairs. Instead of going into my dreadfully boring room, I walked into my sister’s room. “Madison, what the hell? Why don’t you ever knock?” Sydnie asked, accusingly. “I’m sorry,” I wasn’t sorry, “I just can’t find anything to eat and I’m bored. And Mom is outside on the phone with some person about something. My phone.” Syd squinted at me with her soft blue eyes through her freshly dyed black hair and her heavy dark eyeliner. She had been busy typing away on the Acer laptop she’d gotten for Christmas months before. She took her eyes off me and focused back onto the screen of her laptop. I stood there in her doorway sluggishly for minutes before she finally lifted herself out of her twin size bed and made her way through her messy room. I can’t remember a time when Sydnie’s room was clean. She

Countless hours were wasted together, working on assignments, penning songs together for his at-the-time small YouTube channel. They wrote songs about young love, comparing stolen kisses to soft ocean breezes, some of her old poems even became songs to the strings of his guitar. They created entire songbooks together, and Terra felt undeniably elated for the first month of their relationship. Every breath that he whisked from her lungs was a pleasure to lose. Her poems lost their dark edge, words that were once a screaming wish to disappear becoming whispered desires to never leave. For awhile, Terra thought all those dark thoughts that had plagued her were gone.

Lastly, I observed a newly identified 9-year-old boy named Addie, who used to be a girl named Adeline. I was Adeline’s nanny, so it was to no surprise that I was invited to her birthday party. I took this opportunity to observe, however, when I arrived, I was thrown off by Adeline’s new appearance. Adeline, who was now went by Addie, cut her hair short, and was wearing boy’s baggy jeans with a monster truck shirt. Addie raced up to his room to show me what his parents got him for his birthday, and I followed him in shock. When I entered his room, I saw newly painted blue walls with sports posters, and toy cars scattered on his carpet. I was taken back by the masculinity of his bedroom. He showed me his new light up sword, but his parents told

Gentle footsteps pattered across the hardwood floor as Ariana roamed into her kitchen, melodies from her phone flowing through the stereo. It was eleven o'clock at night, and an unbounded joy seemed to surge through the brunette's veins. Liz would be there at any moment, leaving them to spend their night together as they had done years back. Life had taken ahold of their friendship, and, although it still stood strong, opportunities for them to get together were far and few between. Since the two had first met, Ariana always admired the other girl. There was something about her confidence, or maybe even the way she carried herself. Just the thought of Liz could usually bring a truly authentic smile to her face, and in a way no one else seemed to do, as well.

I asked her if we were almost done so I could go play on our self-made backyard swing set, while listening to Papa playing Michael Jackson’s album ‘Thriller’. Ashleigh only continued to jot dot points down on her notebook. “How are you feeling?” She sat down her pen, and placed her delicate hands in her lap before she pushed her poorly brushed hair behind her ear. “Like-” I paused, and sat up straight so I wasn’t slouched. “Can I throw your journal in the trash? I feel like doing that.” I shifted my eyes toward the window listening to my instinct. That was where a pair of eyes stared right back at

Selene looks around the dark Badr, the place she’s always called home. With it’s dark purple grass, navy blue circle buildings, and the glowing yellow wall surrounding Badr, the setting made Selene shiver. But sometimes, well most of the time, she’s wondered was there a place with sunlight, was there a place where it’s wasn’t always night? She would ask her two friends Molly and Marry the twins, but they would call her crazy. So Selene would just stargaze and think, wonder, and hope. Without any siblings and since her parents were divorced Selene did that a lot … just lay on the soft grass and stargaze, feeling a cool breeze come through. Alone by herself just the way she liked it, with no one around with in miles. To Selene it was perfect. ZZZZZZZ