Most people would agree that life is the most precious part of being here on earth. If a teenager feels that living is so bad that they need to take their own life, then obviously the people around them are doing something wrong. A few months ago, my stepdad, Jason, received a call from one of his fellow classmates that was bullied in high school. He told Jason that he was having suicidal thoughts and that Jason was the only person that was nice to him in school, therefor, that's why he was calling him. If the person that was the nicest to him was someone who barely talked to him, everybody else must have been horrible. Life is a mix of human interaction, and if both sides don't do their part, don't you think the one suffering should be forgiven? I do.

discripive writing

      

        Even though I have lived here in Batesville for most of my life, I was born in Vail, Colorado. I may have been little, but I remember very distinctly the atmosphere. Because Vail was basically a huge ski resort, it was filled with tourists. The small bakery, teeming with hungry customers examining all the pastries that filled the air with a heavenly aroma. Out on the streets, families climb on the trolly to see the town. crowds of people covered the sidewalks and courtyard, despite the brisk, dry air, to cheer on the live bands. A few miles outside of town, a tiny, but cozy, house sits on a hill. Inside, the parents sit in front of a crackling fireplace, sipping a steaming cup of hot chocolate with the little marshmallows. Outside, the children play in the clean, fresh snow. The air so clear and freezing, it burns their throats as they run. Beyond the countryside, the enormous and stunning mountains show bright white in the distance. Up inbetween these snow-dusted peaks, it is completely silent, like an all white, soundproof room. There are no crickets at night, chirping the songs of nature, just the occasional thud of dropping snow from the branches of the evergreens. in the silence, the sound of the river trickling over the bolders as if it were a leaky faucet.

I am poem

I am happy and easy-going.
I wonder why people could be so hurtful.
I hear the laughter of my friends.
I see the light shining from their smiles.
I want to travel the world.
I am happy and easy-going.

I pretend I am still 7 years old.
I feel life is speeding by way too fast.
I touch the warmth of family and friends.
I worry about the lost children in the world.
I cry when i think about Lane.
I am happy and easy-going.

I understand the love of my Savior.
I say I love you all the time.
I dream about the people I love.
I try not to "judge a book by its cover".
I hope to make a change in the world.
I am happy and easy-going.