All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Amnesty International was on Thursdays, preceding art classes with her best friend. Saturday afternoons were devoted to helping the local animal shelter and Sunday mornings were spent visiting with her grandmother and listening to her long tales of her youth. Mondays and Tuesdays was when the Drama Club rehearsed and on Monday mornings, Sarah had yoga before school. Wednesdays were devoted to dance class but on Fridays, Sarah did whatever she wanted.
Today happened to be a Friday, Sarah’s favorite day of the week. She walked along the boardwalk with Ryan, a good friend from the animal shelter, while slurping on watermelon flavored slush. Her cerulean blue painted toenails contrasted wither bright pink Old Navy flip flops that shuffled across the brown wooden planks. Ryan flipped back his wavy hair that was in the way of his green, frog-like eyes.
“Sarah, how do you do it?”
“How do I do what?” Asked Sarah with a shy grin.
“Uhm maybe just live your life.” Sarah laughed, revealing her pristine white teeth. Five years of braces weren’t for nothing.
“Ryan, just take it one step at a time.”
“One step at a time? You bounce from Yoga to rehearsals to meetings all without a moment to take a breathe. How do you do it?”
“Well, I don’t know it’s just the way my life has always been,” Replied Sarah in a simple tone. She hated the way people told her to slow down as if she was the Tasmanian devil running through a library.
“Why? Why do you do it? Wouldn’t you rather be watching a movie than be writing to officials in Darfur?”
“I’m scared,” said Sarah plainly, with a serious tone.
“Sarah Bloom, scared? You’re the one that faced a bulldozer just to save the town forest, you know.”
Sarah didn’t know what to say to that; Sarah would willingly face an angry mob to fight for what she believed in, but would shrivel up when it came to finding a prom date. Sarah sat down on a bench facing the sunset. She stared at the bright colorful sky and thought that it looked as if a bomb had just gone off in the middle of a happy rainbow.
“I’m frightened. I’m terrified. I’m scared to my wit’s end. What if I wake up one day, say twenty years down the road, and I ask myself what I have done with my life...and what if all I can say is that I’ve gotten the world’s high score in Halo? Or that I’ve worked at a hot dog stand? You know, there are people that spend their entire lives working at hot dog stands, day in and day out. How would you feel, knowing all you’ve done all your life is made hot dogs?”