Trouble's Bubble | Teen Ink

Trouble's Bubble

May 4, 2018
By elise_ BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
elise_ BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

There’s this weird philosophy I have which is if you curse a lot worse things happen. Try it, and you’ll see the difference when you limit the number of times you curse a day. Think of cursing as a moldy cheese that follows you all day, that specifically applies to if you are the type of person that curses  24/7.

The life I live is bipolar. Trouble is something that will always follow you wherever you go. I believe that people are tested each and every day of their life, it’s about if you accept the test. From fourth to eighth grade I was a potty mouth because I really believed I was the s***. Most people see me as quiet, which is true, but I can be extremely loud. My mother never knew I cursed, she doesn’t think I have a potty mouth honestly. My many emotions vary from how I feel every day. Emotions are broken up into two parts, whether you care or you don't care.


On a sunny day during the last days of school, an altercation occurred with a few students. That day I was actually jovial because the weekend was almost here. I had a lot planned and you know when it’s time to have fun the excitement builds up. Around lunchtime a situation occurred and I was involved because of association. I mean my friends aren’t bad influences, but I think we were being tested by the universe. So, we were at lunch in the auditorium and a few people had a fight, but I did not engage I just broke up the situation. Everyone was so loud, excited that a fight was going to happen. They were screaming like a group of carnivores fighting for the last piece of meat. Instigators ran up to spread little lies in the opponent's ears, and that's when the fight began. As I saw the first punch thrown my heart sunk, I was not thrilled at all. I tried to help but it was too late, it was like a stream of paparazzi trying to get the latest scoop. They ran to see the fight, pushing me back so they can take videos; I always wondered if it was worth their while.


This is not the bad part, neither is this the part where the cursing come in. There’s this phrase called be a leader, not a follower. After this altercation ended, I was being accused of not “jumping in” the fight and that got me riled up. You would think that my friends were the one doing the accusing, but it wasn’t, it was two annoying boys. I am a leader and I didn’t want to do anything that did not involve me.


They were basically taunting me about how I was not a real friend, so one thing led to another and trouble finally found me. I started cursing, screaming, moving desks, kicking things, more cursing, etc. I felt the steam coming out of my airs, my lungs started to hurt, my palms became sweaty, and I started to cry due to anger. Being accused of things that I did not do is very infuriating.  

Everyone was shocked at my behavior, I did not get in trouble at school because I was basically being harassed. Although when my mother came up to the school and my guidance counselor told her I cursed, I mean she didn't crucify me, she was disappointed. When I come to think of it I got in trouble with myself rather than my mother. I have many morals and I felt like I broke a moral law when I acted out.


The act of cursing actually backfired a couple days later, because as I said before when you curse bad things happen. My grades started to drop, I would accidentally embarrass myself in front of people, and one of my closest friend left the school. I knew that trouble found me when I became distracted, and I was determined to fix it. After seeing the aftermath of my behavior I decided to stop cursing and involving myself in immature situations. I have been a more mature person after that day, and I realize the little hints of trouble should not be entertained. When I walk outside and smell the air of pollution and see the many colors of people, I think about how much trouble they will get into today.

Trouble will find us in many ways, and we have to either face it or avoid it. Let’s talk about the karma part of it because it can really impact us. I never believed the saying “what goes around, comes around”. This b**** karma will always be looking out for someone who does badly. My philosophy varies due to intentions. Think about the clock and the different hands of the clock. You are the number 2 and the hands are karma. It doesn’t come at once, it takes a little time to come. Let’s say once in a while the short and long hand lands on the 2, that’s when karma hits. Your karma occurs 2:10 every month or every two months, which is very constant for someone that does a simple thing like tell a lie. 


I tried to stop myself from cursing and acting out. I was called out for not defending my friend, but it was like word vomit. The anger was building up and I was not able to control myself. I started to sweat, I panicked and took all my anger out on something that was not serious. The way a volcano explodes, the way my food pitches up in the microwave, the way an infant instantly pees on themselves. There was NO WAY I was going to stand here and listen to two OBNOXIOUS INDIVIDUALS. My ears could not eat the tormenting comments anymore.

I honestly think about my actions and what I say before I do anything. Every good thing has to be paid for by a bad thing. As I matured I began to think about the consequences, why do we have to face consequences? I recall this day I was blamed for something I did, and that upsets me the most. Throwing lies to my name, of course, I had to dodge these lies. I was accused of going into my grandmother’s room and emptying her plants on the floor, and throwing water on her bed. I was 15 around that time, and also my toddler brother and sister was making a lot of mischiefs. I was wrongly accused, and then I was being yelled at for no reason even though I said that my little sister did it, BECAUSE SHE DID.

It was a rainy day, and rainy days comes with dreary feelings, and I was already upset about the rain. She had the nerve to open her mouth and say that I went to her room and trashed it on purpose. As soon as I heard her false accusations, I started to yell at her… would have thought I birthed this woman. She was so convinced that I did such childish things, and there was no evidence to prove that I committed such act. How can you sit here and accuse me of such stupid acts? I honestly believe that she was brainwashed for a minute because those accusations baffled me. As each raindrop fell I felt myself building up anger to the point where I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Here we go again, my hands got sweaty, I began to get hot, my thoughts were racing and then BOOOOOM. When I let everything out I couldn’t believe I was capable of such horrid words, I was so astonished because my grandmother didn’t deserve it.

Another incident with her occurred and then I realized who she truly was. She was a very mean and selfish woman who was not happy at all. She was always there manipulating and being a nuisance. Her vibe just takes me to another level. Let us do some imagining….. Imagine a woman with a green face, a wort on her big nose, black eyes, crazy hair black and gray, a heckling laugh, with a broomstick. She is such a conniving woman who honestly needs to realize that family can only take so much heartbreak. In life, people are not able to see the truth, because their opinion dominates their head. 

A change was never in my vocabulary so I thought to myself I was “perfect”. Constructive criticism never sat well with me, even to this day. As soon as I hear the negative words I block out everything else. How can someone sit there and negatively give me feedback? This thought was very reoccurring when it was time to give me constructive criticism. Admitting when I’m wrong will never happen because I am very hard-headed. When I have to admit that I’m wrong I feel embarrassed, it's such a difficult thing to do. Constructive criticism and admitting to my wrongs also affects my anger. Think about how long 10 seconds is, how much can you do in 10 seconds? That’s how long it takes me to change from jocular to furious. How can I be told, “ fix your attitude, your angry for no reason”. The little things people say triggers me takes me to a  whole other level.

My years of middle school was very bittersweet like God crafted it to be yin and yang. Mostly sweet barely bitter although the point was I had issues with my anger back then too.  I was able to see how change can actually occur. I always had that feeling that I was intellectual enough. Cassia the sponge that was left in the sun to dry up, that’s who I was every time I entered a classroom. This was the bitter part of it, the part where I was not able to retain information. I took this anger out on my teachers because they were not doing enough for me, at least that’s what I thought.

There was this English teacher I had named Ms.Davis, she was definitely the cream of the crop when it came to English, but I was so blindsided by my anger. The work seemed hard to me, rage came over me and attacked my brain. RAGE V. BRAIN, I think you can guess who won, my rage. Ms. Davis told me “ Cassia you’re wrong, you have to get better at these things. It’s okay to be wrong”, I replied, “ stop talking to me because you’re getting on my nerves and I don’t care about this work”. I was so pissed off I left the classroom, Cassia was a little rude asshole, wasn’t she? Well, people who are like me will understand that s*** gets real when you disrespect someone who is trying to lead you to victory.

The rush of blood pumping through my system quickly like the way the water goes down the toilet when it's flushed. Here comes Ms.Davis walking with haste, with her pen tapping on her index finger, with the most serious face you have ever seen. As she opens her mouth I turned away from her because I was not ready to hear Martin Luther King come back to life to recite his “ I have a dream speech”. She was all for students never giving up and persevering through difficult situations. Her voice was gentle this time, which made me feel so bad for being discourteous. “ Cassia, you do not have to act that way if you get something wrong, I’m trying to help you.” Hearing that diverted my anger to the little hell inside of my brain.

Millions of questions were running through my head regretting the way I treated my teacher. Why treat someone like that when all they want to do is help? Why are some people so nice after they have been disrespected? So many questions but no answer at all. I got even more furious because I wasn’t able to think before I acted, I just acted. Very mature of me wasn’t it? As I think back I see that there was a different way to handle the situation.  This particular situation made me better even today. I am able to channel my anger a little better now.

There is no beginning, middle, and end to this. If you want to think literal then it started when I was born, and it follows me to this day. Anger is my friend who lives in my back pocket, and when it’s time to come out we battle the enemy together. There is no difference between the old Cassia and the new Cassia because we still don’t take s*** from anyone, but we are more aware of our actions. Day by day I become more mature and I see how my life could have been a wreck because of my attitude A great philosopher Plato once said, “ Human behavior flow from the three main sources: desire, emotion, and knowledge. I can voluntarily say that I lacked a great amount of knowledge. The people who used to be in my life shaped me to steer away from the statistics of an African American women. Only I can change my life and my course of action. I popped one bubble and now the other one has formed bigger than ever and that’s why I am where I am now, trying to hide from trouble.

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