Approve this

“What should I eat?” my best friend Arri whined. She was never good at decision making she was content to let me decide for her knowing I would pick at whatever she got anyway. 1

“I don’t know!” I said a little to sharply “You be the decisive one today. Make your own decisions.” I said fixing my tone to make it casual and indifferent. 2

Usually a passivist and an indecisive person are good friends but hardly ever best friends. Unless, they belong to a threesome friendship that has one very dominant friend who makes all the decisions which they are more than happy to oblige, but that was not the case here. We have our others friends, many those dominant friends, but it was usually just the two of us hanging out afterschool or wandering the halls during lunch hour. Somehow the friendship between myself and Arri thrives. I am usually the one to make the decisions because I am only indecisive not passive, but sometimes Arri will shock me and make decisions herself. I am usually happy for the change and proud of her that she is making her own decisions. 3

In a futile effort to help her decide on her own I listed off the food choices’ the school had to offer. After each item she would make a disapproving sound that didn’t totally say No and knocking it off the possibilities list but not exactly moving it to the Yes column either. Once every option had successfully moved from the ‘options’ column to the ‘possibilities’ column I said,4

“Why don’t you get pizza?”5

She sighed, “Okay.” It wasn’t the exact thing she wanted but it always was the good fall back. Nobody ever really knows what she really wants. They hardly ever stick around long enough to asker enough questions so she finally realizes what she truly wants. Sometimes she does know what she wants but its rare. 6

Today was defiantly not one of those days. And I didn’t want to play twenty questions to find out what she would eat for lunch. We would plenty of twenty question games through out the day over small trivial things; I was sure of it. I was in no mood to talk for more than what was necessary to be pleasant. The class before lunch had left me in a melancholy mood. It was my Advanced Woods class. My teacher Mr. Davis had spent the entire period lecturing/ venting to us about ‘some little shit’ in the Beginning Woods class, probably a freshman. ‘The little shit’ had super glued a pen block onto the reamer, then super glued the switch on the screwdriver from high to low and super glued the battery onto the base of the screwdriver; so it could not be removed for charging. That in and of its self rendered the entire screwdriver useless. Mr. Davis threatened to hit the ‘shit’ over the head with it once he found out who the ‘shit’ was but other than that it was headed for the junk pile. He mentioned more than once that he knew that nobody in our class would do this kind of crap. He rambled on about how his class was an elective and how this shouldn’t happen in his class the kids who take his class are here by choice. If they are here to do this kinda stuff they don’t belong in the wood shop. Mr. Davis was the kind of teacher that had respect for his students; more respect than any other teacher would that was handed the lot of students he was. In return (with a few exceptions) we all respected Mr. Davis. I did especially. I hated to disappoint him or let him down in anyway. I hated disappointing him more than disappointing my best friend. 7

I fell into a melancholy mood because I found out that ‘some little shit’ didn’t have even an ounce of respect for the man I practically revered. I just couldn’t fathom why someone would do something like that just for the sake of destroying it. If you are going to destroy school property do it to a math or English book not a wood shop power tool. It's the last days of school it seems like everyone is tense now.8

Arri yammered on about her day talking about this that and the other shenanigan. I nodded my head and answered in the correct places. She mentioned something about graduation and what we are gonna do after we graduate. To be fair I was paying half attention to what she was saying but the other half of my mind would not focus on anything for longer than five seconds. 9

Lunch came and went along with the last class of the day; Art II.10

Arri drove me home continuing on with her stories that she hadn’t finished from lunch because she was sidetracked by another story or she would realize that she hadn’t finished her story from five stories ago. Art had only deepened my melancholy mood, I don’t know why but art always tends to enunciate more on my current mood rather than change it to a better one. I stared out her window lazily watching as the buildings passed. I listened to her stories paying a bit more attention now than at lunch. They were all boring monotonous stories that didn’t require that much attention. We reached my house shortly after she finished all of her stories. I got out of the car saying my goodbys and promiseing to see her at my locker first thing in the morning. Unlocking my front door I waved goodbye signaling to her that everything was okay and on the up and up in my house and that no one was going to jump me and kill me once I closed the door. I spent the afternoon numbing my brain trying to forget about why I was in such a mood. After several hours of channel flipping, surfing and program watching I started on my homework due tomorrow. I quickly wrote up a paragraph about some current happening in the US economy for my Financial Literacy class, and did the last few math problems I hadn’t finished yesterday in class. No homework for sewing class, I had a paper due in my English class. Children’s Literature was my English substitute this year. It was a class for seniors and Juniors, which was good. Seeing how I rarly had the patience for Freshmen. Currently we were focused on fairy tales about to cover Grimm’s fairy tales in particular tomorrow. In light of our next subject and our next, next subject Poetry; Miss Snyder, my teacher, decided to combine the two. She wanted us to write a poem that was either based on, a retelling, another perspective of, a new version or something similar too a fairy tale. My mind ran over the fairy tales I knew and ended on Snow White. Thoughts began to form in my mind I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote them down as they came. After a few brief moments of editing and typing I had come up with:11

Here I Hang 12

Here I hang13

The world all black14

Life goes on15

It passes me by16

Voices sound17

Far in the distance18

I hear footsteps19

Here she comes20

How do I face her?21

That piercing stare22

She will ask me23

How can I lie24

No, I cannot25

What will she do26

She will demand27

I must make28

Her back straighter29

Skin tighter30

Face paler31

Hair darker32

Lips redder33

Waist smaller34

And legs longer35

Here I hang36

So weak, so old37

How long have I been here?38

I stopped counting years ago39

The queen only knows40

The door to my chamber41

Opens and shuts42

Her steps stop43

Off comes the velvet44

That shields me45

There she stands46

Asking once more47

Just as always48

Mirror, mirror,49

On the wall50

Who is the fairest51

Of them all?52

Writing has always just come to me, I guess ‘the arts’ muses' favor me. I am just naturally better at writing or drawing something than giving an oral presentation. I always put my heart into what I do but I never really had to try very hard to come up something. They always just seemed to flow weather it was from my pen or fingertips to a keyboard. 53

Content with my work I printed it off and put it in my bag so I wouldn’t forget it in the morning. It was late; somehow I had missed dinner.54

“Oh…” I said once I had reached the kitchen seeing the table messy from the days before. ‘We didn’t have dinner it’s a make-it-yourself-dinner, night.’55

“Once again!” I said dramatically voicing my thoughts. I looked thought the cupboards and shelves in my kitchen trying to find something that resembled dinner and not just a box or a bag. At times I would catch a whiff of fresh peaches, my eyes would dart around the kitchen looking for the source of that exquisite smell.56

“God I hate August!“ I muttered in my frustration of finding the kitchen void of peaches. The counters and fridge were piled high with all the fresh vegetables they could hold but no peaches.57

“I am so sick of vegetables!” I said now irritated that I could find nothing appetizing. I could not for the life of me figure out what it was that I really wanted to eat. I looked in the garage freezer that held nothing of interest. ‘I don’t want to heat anything in the oven…’ I thought lazily. I went back to the fridge and opened the lunch meat draw finding the ham I pulled it out along with the mayo. I searched for lettuce but found none. ‘Out of all the vegetables there’s No. Stinking. Lettuce.’ I was more than a bit miffed but I would have my ham sammich with out lettuce this time. I found the bread one slice and barely a crust left. I sighed. I pulled out the bread and spread the mayo on the bread. I had finished and was about to put on my ham when I thought, ‘No, put more Mayo on. More calories. I don’t eat enough, maybe my body will digest the extra calories during the night. Maybe I won’t wake up with a gnawing burning pain in my stomach from the lack of food.’ I slathered on a very generous layer of mayo and put on a slice of ham. I put the crust of bread on top, ‘It doesn’t even cover the ham.’ I ate the sammich while putting away the mayo. ‘I am gonna still be hungry after the sammich’ while putting away the mayo I did a once over of the fridge as I ate the last bite of my sammich. ‘Okay lets think this through logically. What do you feel like eating?’ I reasoned with myself. I don’t know what I expected myself to answer, I already knew what it was. 58

“I don’t know!” I snapped aloud.” If I did I would be eating it!” I slammed the fridge shut and walked to the pantry, sick of the sight of vegetables. There it was again a whiff of fresh peaches. 59

“Arrrrrrrg!” I yelled in frustration. I knew the peaches were all gone but still my eyes scoured the kitchen, despite my logic. 60

“I want fresh peaches.” ‘You can’t, there aren’t any.’ ‘I know…’ I usually argue with myself in my head. I glanced though my pantry I spotted a box of spaghetti and pulled it out remembering the sauce in the fridge. I pulled out a pot and put water in it and turned on the stove. I waited for the water to boil. I added olive oil to the water so the noodles wouldn’t stick to each other. I put the oil away and opened the fridge to find the Alfredo sauce in the back of the fridge. I opened the lid only to find a green fuzzy covering over the sauce. 61

“Great.” I found some unopened Alfredo in the cupboard and opened that.. While I waited for the water to boil I let my thoughts roam other the happenings of the day. I accounted lunch with Arri.62

“God it like she needs approval for everything.” I said frustrated with her advertence to decision making. I thought to myself ‘Do I need other people’s approval?’ 63

I pride myself on not needing approval from anyone. I thrive because I am the only person I need to please. I threw these reasons back at myself along with that was a stupid question to ask. ‘Was it? Do you really need the approval of others to feel good about yourself? About what you do? About what you create? Why then do you want people to see what you have done? Read what you have written?’64

‘I ….. I guess I do need other people’s approval. I thrive on it.’ I slowly admitted to myself, feelings slightly ashamed that I thrive on the approval and complements of others. 65

I had to write down this astonishing revelation. I ran upstairs and grabbed my writing notebook. When I came back down my water had reached a full rolling boil. I broke the noodles so they would fit into the small pot and went to writing in my notebook on the table. I wrote down all the events leading up to the revelation. All to soon my noodles were done. I removed them from the heat and drained them. I went looking for a dish to put my noodles in. I didn’t fee like using an ordinary container to hold my midnight dinner. I found a washed out whipped cream tub and put my drained noodles in. The container had been washed so many times the lettering had worn making the tub look faded. I grabbed my sauce and poured on about a serving size over top my three servings of noodles. I replaced the lid and put it in the fridge. I began stirring in the sauce ‘By the time anyone gets around to using the sauce again it will have gone bad just like the last sauce. The back of the fridge is always forgotten. I might as well use all I want.’ I went back to the fridge and pulled out the sauce again. I poured on a generous amount and put it back in the fridge. I took my now 1am dinner to the table where I had been writing and set it down. I picked up my pen and picked up where I had left off in my account. I figured I might as well write while I am waiting for my noodles to cool. I took a bite or three every time my pen paused for longer than two seconds. I ate carelessly. Alfredo slopped all over my chin, noodles flipped onto my night shirt and shorts. Some even got on my notebook.66

So here I sit covered in Alfredo the side of my hand dragging it from one side of the page to the other. I am still shocked that deep down I actually do care about what others say. I need the approval from others. I guess it sprouted from the lack of approval my mom gives me. Ever since I was little I can’t remember a time where my mother approved of anything I would do. It was always too messy, too expensive, it took too much time. There was always something wrong nothing ever right. It’s like I have this void inside of me where her approval would have gone if I had ever received it. I have been trying for years to fill the void with the approval of others, friends, teachers and peers. Now I find that no amount of approvals can ever fill that void. Nothing can compensate for the approval I can never get. 67

Well… approve this68

A girl shot down in a high school is laid to rest 69

By SANDRA COLE, Associated Press Writer.70

A week ago, Kayla Alex Smith entered her high school just like every other day, but today was different.71

She entered the school and went to her first class of the day and pulled out a handgun. She pointed it at every student who was in the room. She looked from student to student making eye contact with every student. Once she made eye contact she would shout ‘Approve this!’ and pause, waiting for them to say something. Once they proved to remain silent she moved onto the next student. 72

One of the students that was in the room said: “ It was really weird. I have never seen Kayla like that before. She was just another student ya know? She acted like everyone else. She had this look in her eye like she was scared but she knew what she was doing. When she pointed the gun at me I knew she wouldn’t shoot me or anyone else it was just the feeling I got when I looked into her eyes. She just wanted to get her point across.”73

That seemed to be the case for all the students in the room. Nobody really felt threatened but the gun scared some of them all the same. 74

After Kayla had felt she had gotten her point across she tuned the gun on herself and said quietly ”Approve this mom.” and pulled the trigger. Clearly this was a desperate cry for help and attention but in this case there is nothing we can do to help poor Kayla now. 75

The school is providing therapy for the students who were in the room and always offer to help students in need of help and attention. 76

Kayla’s family will lay her down to rest this afternoon at Lambs cemetery. For more information about the funeral contact the Smiths at 218-5246.77

If you or anyone you know is in need of help like Kayla, Please call 225-6687. 78

I do not approve Kayla -Mom