(Please tell me your opinion on my story and be truthful please!)
“Erik get down here now!” My father yelled.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hurried down the stairs. I learned in the last 17 years I’ve been alive, that if my dad calls me I need to be down fast…or else…
I got down the stairs, and went into the living room where he always sat on his days off. “Yes, dad? What can I get you?”
My mother smiled up at me from her book, “You are such a good son, Erik-“
My dad interrupted her, “Don’t make him feel better he should feel bad!” He looked up at me glaring, “Erik, I have seen your grades lately and you’re in football, right?”
“Yes… I am… I’m sorry they’re dropping I’ll try to get them up.” I stood with my hands behind my back. The fact my dad had to ask me if I was in football made me think I was lucky he knew my name. My mom always tells me I am such a good boy and my dad does cinta me, he’s just been “stressed” lately.
“Well we’ve already had this conversation before and anda berkata the exact same thing; and I’m getting tired of being lied to. I think I’ll have the coach pull anda out of football until anda get your grades up.”
My mother looked at him, “Richard, don’t anda think that’s a little harsh?” My mother always stood up for me but takes my dad side in the end.
“No, Marsha, I don’t think it’s harsh at all. I think it’s fair. He should learn how to get his act up to the way I want them to be. This is not up for discussion-“
“But dad, I’m in stochastic calculus, chemistry, A.P. U.S. History-“
“I understand they can be kind of hard-“
“No, I don’t think anda understand dad. I can hardly pass them and anda want A’s! I can’t get anda them! It’s hard! I’m just not that smart-“
My dad stood up, and got in my face, “I was in war. That wasn’t a piggy back ride. People died and I had to try my hardest every damn time I went out in the field,” He pushed me back, “I watched people die,” He pushed me again, “And anda think anda grades are hard!? HUH!?” he shoved me into the wall, “Try living with yourself after anda killed so many people! 238 and lebih people I killed!” He decked me in the face hard.
“Richard!” I heard my mother yell, but it didn’t matter to my dad. He was too busy beating up his own son.
My dad kneed me in the stomach twice, “You think school is hard,” He threw me to the ground, “Well trying living like me. Now go to your room.” I got up, and ran upstairs as fast as I could. I slammed my bedroom door, and looked in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked so much like him… I can’t be like him… please I just can’t…
“Erik get down here now!” My father yelled.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” I hurried down the stairs. I learned in the last 17 years I’ve been alive, that if my dad calls me I need to be down fast…or else…
I got down the stairs, and went into the living room where he always sat on his days off. “Yes, dad? What can I get you?”
My mother smiled up at me from her book, “You are such a good son, Erik-“
My dad interrupted her, “Don’t make him feel better he should feel bad!” He looked up at me glaring, “Erik, I have seen your grades lately and you’re in football, right?”
“Yes… I am… I’m sorry they’re dropping I’ll try to get them up.” I stood with my hands behind my back. The fact my dad had to ask me if I was in football made me think I was lucky he knew my name. My mom always tells me I am such a good boy and my dad does cinta me, he’s just been “stressed” lately.
“Well we’ve already had this conversation before and anda berkata the exact same thing; and I’m getting tired of being lied to. I think I’ll have the coach pull anda out of football until anda get your grades up.”
My mother looked at him, “Richard, don’t anda think that’s a little harsh?” My mother always stood up for me but takes my dad side in the end.
“No, Marsha, I don’t think it’s harsh at all. I think it’s fair. He should learn how to get his act up to the way I want them to be. This is not up for discussion-“
“But dad, I’m in stochastic calculus, chemistry, A.P. U.S. History-“
“I understand they can be kind of hard-“
“No, I don’t think anda understand dad. I can hardly pass them and anda want A’s! I can’t get anda them! It’s hard! I’m just not that smart-“
My dad stood up, and got in my face, “I was in war. That wasn’t a piggy back ride. People died and I had to try my hardest every damn time I went out in the field,” He pushed me back, “I watched people die,” He pushed me again, “And anda think anda grades are hard!? HUH!?” he shoved me into the wall, “Try living with yourself after anda killed so many people! 238 and lebih people I killed!” He decked me in the face hard.
“Richard!” I heard my mother yell, but it didn’t matter to my dad. He was too busy beating up his own son.
My dad kneed me in the stomach twice, “You think school is hard,” He threw me to the ground, “Well trying living like me. Now go to your room.” I got up, and ran upstairs as fast as I could. I slammed my bedroom door, and looked in the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked so much like him… I can’t be like him… please I just can’t…
When will this end?
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying oleh their own hands everyday.
They say this world can change for the better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will cinta start?
The hari we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The hari we cinta too much to kill
The hari others' pain is our pain
The hari we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
I say, let us try.
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying oleh their own hands everyday.
They say this world can change for the better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will cinta start?
The hari we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The hari we cinta too much to kill
The hari others' pain is our pain
The hari we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
I say, let us try.
It’s the color of you
anda always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid form them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our jeruk, orange book bags
Saved us from some pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two jeruk, orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then anda left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
anda were in the jeruk, orange field in the sky
anda always berkata was there.
The jeruk, orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though anda left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone jeruk, orange in the rainbow
Without anda here
I protect my own
Though I wish anda were here
Now jeruk, orange is my color
A color for anda bravery
A color for my survival
jeruk, orange will forever be our color
Even though death took anda away
Forever jeruk, orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
anda always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid form them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our jeruk, orange book bags
Saved us from some pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two jeruk, orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then anda left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
anda were in the jeruk, orange field in the sky
anda always berkata was there.
The jeruk, orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though anda left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone jeruk, orange in the rainbow
Without anda here
I protect my own
Though I wish anda were here
Now jeruk, orange is my color
A color for anda bravery
A color for my survival
jeruk, orange will forever be our color
Even though death took anda away
Forever jeruk, orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
Your jantung is sore, crippled up like paper.
Your voice is weak, barely passing oleh you.
Your body is tired, let it lay for tonight.
anda are but you- a stranger to much.
No one cares to know you.
They do not wish to after all.
And all those times anda told everything-
It was a lie, I cinta anda became a lie. A horrible lie not one can ever take back to you. How could they, breaking your very soul to the apple's wrinkled core? It shook and broke, just like that. Lonesome and ever so exhausted of even thinking it would be different this time around.
You're so hopeless. anda probably cannot pindah away from the pain, the desecration left in the path at the end. Then again, in the end it probably doesn't even matter, does it?
Once a joy, now a misery forever scared, alone.
Your voice is weak, barely passing oleh you.
Your body is tired, let it lay for tonight.
anda are but you- a stranger to much.
No one cares to know you.
They do not wish to after all.
And all those times anda told everything-
It was a lie, I cinta anda became a lie. A horrible lie not one can ever take back to you. How could they, breaking your very soul to the apple's wrinkled core? It shook and broke, just like that. Lonesome and ever so exhausted of even thinking it would be different this time around.
You're so hopeless. anda probably cannot pindah away from the pain, the desecration left in the path at the end. Then again, in the end it probably doesn't even matter, does it?
Once a joy, now a misery forever scared, alone.