Wednesday, March 12, 2008


Isabella Korfmann
March 6th
Periods 3 and 4

David


We had been riding up and down the streets in Bob's Mustang looking for something to do. Everyone in the car was completely drunk except me, I don't dig that kind of stuff. On top of their being drunk, Bob was all riled up from those greasers hitting on his girl, and he was just looking for trouble. I was getting anxious, we were down in greaser territory and I had a bad feeling about it. I have never been the kind who liked to fight or drink, or do anything illegal, really.


We were driving by the park and we saw the shadows of two boys walking. Immediately, Bob pulled over and we all got out. When I saw their faces I knew that there was going to be trouble, because they were the same two guys who had been with his girl. Now let me explain something quick. Bob is the man. What Bob wants Bob gets, and that's just how it is, and how its always been. Everyone who is anyone knows Bob and if your not with him, well, your against him. And trust me, you do not want to be on Bob's bad side


Back to the situation at hand. Bob started to yell something about white trash at the two greasers and then one of them yelled something about white trash back at Bob. Next thing I know we were all over at the fountain. I heard someone shout "Give the kid a bath, David" so dutifully I grabbed the taller one by his collar and dunked his head under the water. You might be asking your self why I would be doing something like this if I claim to be such a good kid. Well, its not how I want to be, its just that this is the way I have to be, if I want to be someone. Anyway, we were dunking the kid in the fountain and all of a sudden Bob's body went limp. I let go of the kid and looked over to where Bob is lying. All I saw was this dark haired greaser sitting there with a bloody knife in his hands, and a growing pool of red around Bobs body. After that image had imprinted itself in my mind I beat it out of there quick and I just keep running and running.


had no idea where I was or where I was going or how to get home. Finally, I slowed to a walk and finally sat down. And I just started crying. I could not hold it back any longer, it just came pouring out like a waterfall. I knew I was not just crying for Bob, I was crying for everything I never cried about before. I cried about my parents getting a divorce, about how my grandma, the only one who ever paid any real attention to me, passed away, about almost drowning that kid. I realized how much I had changed just to fit in, how far away I have strayed from who I actually was. And for what? So that I could be in situations like this? It's not a game anymore, somebody died, and the truth is, I was part of what made that happened. I was determined to turn back and become who I used to be.


I got up and started to collect my thoughts. First off I had to find a way home. I dug through the pockets of my khaki pants until I had gathered enough change to take the bus home. I stepped on to the bus and walked to the back, my shoes slightly sticking to the isle as I walked. As I sat on the rough seats waiting for the bus to reach my stop, I tried to figure out what to do. How I was going to handle this whole situation? Should I tell my parents right away? Should I go to the police? Should I tell the story so it seemed like the greasers fault or our fault? What would Bob do...There I went again thinking about what Bob would want. Obviously Bob didn't make very good choices or he wouldn't be dead. No. I needed to start making choices for myself.


So I decided that I would tell me parents the REAL story and see what they thought should be done about it. Unlike some of the Socs parents who lived around here, my parents were pretty down to Earth. I mean I wouldn't say that they were strict, I just mean that they knew what they were doing, and they had at least some sense of values. The bus ride home seemed to take forever. I don't think it had really kicked in that Bob was dead. I `almost expecting to go home and see him waving to me from across the street. Finally the bus ride ended, and I began the long walk home, pondering how to explain things.


11 comments:

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

this is bella who wrote this one by the way i forgot to sign my name...

Unknown said...

Very good. You captured the event very well and your tone was great.

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

It is so interesting that first off we picked the same topic. Secondly, we made some details in our stories the same, proving that we were thinking on the same tracks. I just thought that was really cool. Alex

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

I picked the same perspective, but my story has a very different turn to it. Anyway, I love it!!!
-Laura

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

I loved your detail in the story and i thought you did a great job setting the tone. I also liked how it was very easy to visualize the scenery and characters in my head.

-griffin

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

I like how you made it like it wasn't actually his fault that all of this was happening, but at the same time he could say no. Person vs.Self~Suhaas

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

I like your dialogue. You made him seem so innocent- i loved that-SY

kim said...

This is good! It shows a follower's thoughts and beliefs very well. There's a part that's missing a few words, but I think that might just be the website. Anyway, GOOD JOB!
~kim

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

BBBWWWWEEEEELLLAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Amazing story Bwella! I really liked how you showed that Socs don't feel anything and just do what they do...... [basically] to do it. You very talented!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!

Mrs. Scharf's 3/4 LA said...

I think you know who wrote you the comment before this! -BWANDREW

Students said...

Good job with making the Socs very cold and heartless. Andre