Remembering To Forget | Teen Ink

Remembering To Forget

December 19, 2014
By Martin Casas, San Diego, California
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Martin Casas, San Diego, California
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Author's note:

What inspired me to write this piece was that I am also from a poor country. Me and my family lived through poverty in which we had a hard time making ends meet. Like Alex, we looked to have a better life in the United States. I also tried to tell my story as if Alex was me. I tried to make him seem as if that was me. I hope that people can relate to some of the day to day problems that Alex faces. I would like them to have a certain type of nationalism in which they can be proud of where they're from.

I remember the day my father came dashing into our small apartment "Alejandro,Maria, come quick."
          "What is it?" asked my mother.
          "I have been offered a promotion by my bosses at the University!" exclaimed my father.
           Later on that evening my father told us all of the details and explained what exactly his new job was.
             “I entered the University at the same time as always and grabbed a cup of coffee from the teachers lounge.” said my Father with a smile on his face. “As I entered my office, I noticed that everything was empty, my desk,my books, my belongings, everything”
          As my father spoked, I could not help but notice that my mother would not stop losing interest.
          “I decided to contact the University’s Board of Directors in which they asked me to be at their office immediately,” my Father said with a voice of joy. “As I reached their offices, I could not help but notice that everybody was staring at me.” “As I entered they told me that I had been selected to study modern architecture in UCLA for 2 years in order to teach these modern principles to the other teachers.” “I accepted the offer without a blink of an eye in which I thanked them and finished my last day at the University.” My Mother jumped out of her seat and cried tears of joy for my Father.
          “When will we be leaving?” asked my Mother.
         “First thing next week,” answered my Father “First thing next week.”
            As the days passed we had a big celebration. Neighbors, Family, Friends all gathered to bring us good vibes and wish us the best in this new chapter of our life. I could feel the mixed emotions that my friends had. Some wishing us good luck and good fortune, while others were just to sad to say goodbye to those they loved. That’s when I realized that all of the people that surrounded me each and every day, actually cared for me. I never knew I meant so much. Me, the ordinary kid from Buenos Aires, Argentina was going to be missed and I would leave a family behind.  As the celebration was going into it’s final stage, it was time to say good bye. As I looked into my parents eye’s I could tell my mother was nervous. I tried to think of why she looked so worried but I couldn’t figure it out.
          “What’s wrong Mother?” I asked, “Aren’t you happy that we will finally live a better life?”
      “I am happy Alejandro but, it is a bit scary.” answered my mother.
       “Why do you say that?” I asked my Mother.
      "We will need to learn how to adapt to this new world without the help of no one" said my mother as she let a few tears out.
      I could feel the pain that my mother was going through. The feeling of not knowing what lies ahead terrified both me and my mother. The feeling that my new sibling will be raised in a place that we can't call home made us feel worried. We knew that although it might not be the best decision of our life, we would never really find out until we experience it.
       As we reached the airport, we enjoyed every last glimpse that we received from Buenos Aires. The church that we attended, my old school, my fathers work, our old house, everywhere we looked laid memories that will be in our hearts forever.
       "Would you like some help with your luggage?" asked the ground crew worker.
       "Yes please," answered my father.
       The ground crew worker continued to check us in and put our luggage on the belt.
       "Thank you kind sir," said my father.
        "Your welcome," responded the old man with kindness.
        It was a 8 hour flight from Buenos Aires to the states. I wasn't positive where we were heading, so I decided to ask my father.
        "Through out the next two years, we will be leaving in Los Angeles by the university that I will be attending," answered my father
        "What do you think it will be like?" I asked.
        "I believe that it will be a small quiet city in which it snows every other day and the citizens care for one another," explained my father.
        "Oh, that sound interesting, and where will I go to school, and where will we live?"
        "Alex, you shouldn't be worried about those details yet," answered my father, "You need to live life one day at a time."
        There I realized that my Father was correct. You have to live your life and admire each and every day that you live with the people who love you. The material objects will always be just objects, but what really matters is that you have your family there to support you and love you. I thanked my Father for his words of wisdom in which created a feeling of safety in me.
         "Good night," whispered my Father into my ear.
          I laid my head on my Father's arm and slowly began to close my eyes.
         That night I remember dreaming of my little sister being born into a place in which was still unknown for us. A place in which might not be the one we expected. A place in which every other human being was different or simply just a stranger. A place in which we might not be accepted for being who we are. I woke up only to find my Mother no longer sad. She looked as if she had just held my sibling for the first time. I was positive that we were doing the right thing. That even though we might have to suffer for a while, it will all be worth it someday. That the "New World" that we will discover will be a place that we can call home. I declined my seat into a laying position, wrapped around my blanket, and went to sleep.

As we got off the airplane on August 16, 2014, we were received by our guide. He was a tall gentleman, in his late 20's, with black hair and a fabulous mustache.He wore a fancy suit which allowed his light brown eyes shine. He was holding a sign that read welcome.
     "He looks like a nice young man," whispered my Father to my Mother.
    The young man introduced himself "Hi I'm James and I will be your guide for the next couple of months."
     "Hello James," said my Father, "My name is Mario Rodriguez, my wife is Maria Rodriguez, and this is my son Alex Rodriguez."
     “Nice to meet you,” said James.
     “So what exactly do you do?” I asked.
     “I am recently studying at UCLA but, I have been selected in giving you tours around Los Angeles,” said James, “Should we get started?”
      “Of course” answered my Father.
      First, James showed us where we will be living for the next two years. It was a fairly small hotel but that didn’t matter. From the outside it looked as if it was once a barn, but from the inside, elegancy swifted through  the air. There was chandlers and everything was well decorated. The staff were dressed in rich black suits and wore very elegant tuxedos. Outside were large pools and tennis courts which by the look of it were brand new.As we reached our rooms, we were completly surprised. The bottom floor had a perfect view of Los Angeles with many little hot tubs and a large kitchen. Upstairs  were three large rooms and 4 bathrooms.
I never imagined that I would live in a place like this. Living in a one bedroom apartment, I never imagined that anyone from my neighborhood would live here. This ordinary kid from Buenos Aires lived in a $1,000,000 room.
“Wow,”whispered my Mother in astonishment.
“This is amazing,” exclaimed my Father.
“During your two year visit, you will be staying at The Peninsula Hotel,” said James.
“This room is the most luxurious room that The Peninsula has to offer and one of the top 5 rooms in Los Angeles.”
“I’m sorry, I think there has been a mistake,”said my Father,”we can’t afford this place”
“Don’t worry about that,”said James,”The university has it all covered.”
I could not believe what I had just heard.
“This is just simply amazing,”said my Mother as she broke down in tears of joy.”
“Wow, this is just too much to accept,” said my Father.
“Do not worry about it,” said James,”You deserve it.”
As James waited for us downstairs, we unpacked our luggage and got our rooms ready.As we unpacked, we noticed that our clothes didn’t fill the room in our clostets. We had to go shopping.
As we were walking down the stairs, James came up to tell us that our “ride” was here.
“What’s a ride?” we asked.
“Come down to the lobby and you will see,” answered James.
We got some jackets and rushed down the lobby. We were so anxious to see what a “ride” was that we decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator.As we reached the lobby, we saw a long black car with many windows and all of a sudden a man dressed in eleagent clothes told us to enter.
“No” we said.
Then we saw James inside the car and joined him as well.As we entered, there was music playing while lights went from place to place. It was the most extraordinary feeling I have ever felt.
“Would you like me to roll down a window?” asked the driver.
“Yes please,” we answered.
As we admired the city of Los Angeles, we could not help but notice that everyone was admiring us with awe and staring at the car.
“This type of car is known as a limousine,”said James, “and it is the most luxurious type of transportation in Los Angeles. 
“Who is usually seen in these limousines?” asked my mother
“Not many common people,” said James,”Only the most well known and wealthy celebrities.”
We could not believe it, we never expected to live like those rich and wealthy people that you see on television.We were amazed by how much my Father’s promotion has achieved. Not only where we living in the States, but we were living like kings. We couldn’t help but to ask ourselves if we really deserved this.
As we travelled the city we reached a stopping point. We had stopped at a place known as Hollywood. As we walked out of the limousine, I could feel the eyes of others staring at us as if we were celebrities.We continued to follow James and he toured us around Hollywood.
“This is where most movies, television shows, and documentaries are made,” said James, “Actors from all over the world dream in being in a Hollywood studio.”
We were amazed! The place was crowded. We had never been surrounded by so many people.
“Why is there so much people?” we asked.
“Hollywood is one of the most visited cities in the Nation,” answered James.
We enjoyed our time in Hollywood and decided that it was best to go home. After all we have had a very long day and almost no sleep.On our way home, Los Angeles seemed different than during the day. It was covered with pedestrians and they were all dressed as if they were going to a wedding. I couldn’t help but notice that no one was alone, they were surrounded by their friends. Seeing this made me miss my friends back home, the friends that I went to school with. The friends with which I spent valuable time with. Although I was happy that we were living a very high life, I missed my friends and I hoped I could make one soon.     
As we got home we thanked James for showing us around.
“You're welcome,”said James, “What time should I pick you guys up tomorrow?”
“Thank you James, but I think it will be better if we stay home and get organized,” said my Father
“Ok, see you in two days,” said James anxiously.
“What a night,” said my Mother.
“It was one for the books,” said my Father. “What did you think Alex?” asked my Mother.
As much as I tried to answer her, I felt lonely and without friends.I could feel my mothers eyes looking over at me as I laid on the living rooms bed. I acted as if I was asleep but in reality, I tried my best to avoid the question. I waited for my parents to go into their room and later entered mine and went to sleep.

The next couple of days, my father started to find his way around the university. He explained it as a enormous building in which thousands of people from all over wanted to make the future of themselves and others. The idea of seeing so many people eager to make their life a better place inspired me to do my best in everything. Growing up I would’ve loved to have felt some type of motivation from others but I never had that type of support. Everyone I knew had the same routine, wake up, go to school, work, and sleep late and if you were an adult, it was just work. I begged my father to set up a type of meeting to visit the university.
“They are really busy and it would be best if they weren’t distracted.” said my father.
Meanwhile, I stayed home with my mother.
“What do you want to do today?” I asked my mother.
“It seems like a nice day to go out for a walk doesn’t it.” said my mother.
“Ok, we can do that,” I agreed.
As we exited the building, my mother suggested that it will be best if we took some sweaters with us. I ran back up to the room and grabbed my favorite sweater. A dark blue hoodie that had a picture of an airplane and read “soar.”
I met in the lobby with my mother and continued our walk.
“Do you want to go to a specific place?” asked my mother.
“It’s ok,” I answered, “I don’t mind.”
As we continued our walk down Santa Monica Blvd, we observed the culture of others. Some tourist were short and wore large hats to protect themselves from the sun. While others were covered in sunscreen but what was more amazing was how they acted. At one point, me and my mother saw a woman with a tiny chihuahua in her purse and we burst out in laughter. We expected everyone else to do the same but it seemed normal to them. We continued to wonder why people would do such a silly thing. As time passed by we decided to go into a ice cream store and buy some ice cream. It was amazing how many flavors they offered.
“Are you sure that’s not a list of their employers.” said my mother in a joking matter.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.
We both ordered vanilla ice cream and continued our walk down the street. On our way back home, we entered a post office. We finished our ice cream cone and decided to enter. There we found that we could send letters,postcards,pictures, to our family and friends back in Argentina. We immediately decided to send a letter to my grandparents that lived in Argentina. We asked the lady at the window and she showed us how to send it. We got it all ready and gave it back to the lady so that she could sent it. As we left the post office, I felt as if the lady was trying to tell us something but I was so eager to tell my father that I left.
“Do you think they will get it?” asked my mother in a nervous tone.
“Of course,” I answered “Don’t worry.”
We headed back home and I helped my mother prepare the dinner. Then my father came.
“What’s for dinner?” he asked
“As I was watching the television today,” said my Mother “I learned how to make battered fish with a refreshing salad from the food network.
“What’s a food network?” I asked my mother
“It’s like a television channel but instead of showing cartoons, they show people how to make food.”replied my mother.
“That’s a little odd don't you think.” commented my father. 
“Actually,” replied my mother, “ it was a pretty amazing experience.
My mom served us each a plate while I passed the utensils, and my father served us the beverages.
As we started to eat, I noticed that it had a really sour taste to it.
“Did you like it Alex?” asked my mother.
“Yes mother, I love it.” I replied with a nervous giggle.
We continued to eat and after a while, I asked if I could be excused. I sat on the living rooms couch and turned on the television. I skimmed through the channels only to find a Argentinan News Station. I continued to watch the news.
“There has been many protest due to the political decisions that the president has made,” declared the reporter, “Citizens have gathered in the streets to express their anger on the raise of taxes and on the raise of food.”
I couldn’t believe it. How could I be living like king while my friends and family were living in poverty. There has to be something that we can do but what? I immediately informed my parent of the poverty, protest, and the violence that all of Argentina was going through.
“We need to do something to help!” exclaimed my mother.
“There’s nothing we can really do,” said my father.
“We can donate food, clothes, maybe even money,” I suggested.
“Although your intentions are good, we cannot do anything or else we might be seen as rebels by the Argentine government.” explained my father.
“Do you think we can at least help our family?” I asked my father.
“I’ll see what we can do to help but for now, said my father “help your mother clean the kitchen.”
I entered the kitchen only to find my mother weeping like a little girl.I hugged her and tried my best to convince her that everything will be fine. I  told her to go upstairs and rest while I took care of the kitchen. Although I had asked to be excused during dinner, I was the one who was doing the cleaning, but I didn’t care. I could feel my mothers depression and my fathers sadness. There I was, cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes, sweeping the floor, and putting the food away. When I finished helping my mother, I continued to watch the television but this time, I made sure I watched some sports. After an hour or so, I turned off the television and went to sleep.
The next day I woke up to find that I never went to my room but instead slept on the couch the whole night. I wanted to keep on sleeping but I knew that it was getting late. I headed upstairs, grabbed a warm towel, and took a shower. While I was in the shower, I started to daydream. I dreamed that me and my family were still living in Argentina. I imagined how we would express our thoughts on the Argentinian government's actions. I tried to imagine how my friends and family members were reacting to the governments actions. How hard it must be for them. How much it hurts that they are not able to have what is necessary. How difficult it must be to work for a large amount of hours, only to earn so little. I hoped that our letter could get there fast and that we can do something to help.
I turned of the shower, dried myself with the warm towel, and walked towards my room. I took out a white t-shirt from my closet and a pair of blue jeans from my wardrobe. I also took some white long socks out from my wardrobe, and put them on. I tried to find my white shoes, which are usually under my bed, but I could not find it. I looked everywhere throughout the house, but they were no where to be found. I asked my mother which was still laying down in bed, but she said that she has not seen them. I continued to check the house and later found them under the couch. It seemed pretty odd but I did not want to bother my mom any longer.
"I'm going to go to the library!" I told my mother as I exclaimed from the living room.
"Ok," she said " but breakfast will be ready in an hour.
I left and headed down toward the lobby.I decided to take the stairs because there was many people waiting for the elevator. I took at least 10 minutes to get from our room to the lobby but I made it. I continued to cross the street and entered the library. As I entered I felt the air conditioner refresh my body from the hot Los Angeles sun. I continued and walked over to a corner where I sat in a reclinable chair and looked around. I noticed a man reading about the changes in democracy. Then I remembered that I should probably investigate more about current events in Argentina to see if there was any possible way that we could help. I got up from the reclinable chair and headed for a computer.
I sat next to a man, probably in his late thirties, and wore glasses. He wore a gray Star Trek shirt, at least 30 pounds overweight, and had facial hair all the way down to his chest. He was playing a type of medieval fighting game.
I continued to search on the web for current events in Argentina. Instantly thousands of web results popped up and I clicked on the first one I saw. The blog was written by an Argentine journalist. He explained the violence that was being caused by the citizens due to the actions of the government. The government had stripped citizens of their rights of freedom of speech, increased all prices of foreign products, and increased taxes by 400%.
I clicked on a link and it lead me to a video. In the video I saw people I knew, they were protesting against the government by destroying the city. I saw my fathers old boss, my old science teacher, all of the people who once lived a good life, came to an end. As I continued to watch the video, I noticed someone was watching the same thing.
He was short, had blond hair, and looked Geeky. I noticed that nobody was sitting next to him so I decided to occupy the computer next to him.
"Hi," said the boy sitting next to me.
"Hey," I said "What's your name?"
"I'm Mark" he responded.
"Nice to meet you," I said
"Nice to meet you too," he said
I continued to research threw the computer and found another journalist view on the situation. This journalist was a little different. He was more biased towards the situation. He discussed  the governments actions and made it look as if the citizens were over reacting. In his journal entry, he descried the pressure that the government was under and how they had to buy nuclear powered weapons from the Russians. They were rumors that Brazil wanted to take over Latin America.The raise of taxes and products are only for a temporary time. This made me realize that the government ended up helping the citizens
"It's not true," said Mark.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"The article, it was written by a Russian, Argentina is currently under suspicion by the U.S" replied Mark
"How do you know this?" I asked.
He got up from his seat, and dashed out of the library.
"Stop!" I shouted, "Why are you leaving?"
I tried to catch up but he was to fast. I walked back towards the library. I saw that the article I was reading was deleted. I spent at least 20 minutes trying to find that article but it was no where to be found. Then I noticed, he had forgotten his back pack. I waited until nobody was looking and took it. I started to walk home. As I continued to reach the end of the street, I saw that many people started to come out of cars, houses, stores and all headed straight to the library. I ignored it and continued to walk home. As I got into the lobby I decided to take the stairs to prevent from being seen. I continued to walk up the stairs and reached the top. When I got outside my door, I could smell bacon and eggs. I was looking forward to breakfast. I entered the room and dashed all the way up to my room and hid the backpack under my bed.
"Alex, is that you?" asked my mother.
"Yes mom, I'm just changing," I answered.
"Hurry up!" she yelled "Breakfast is ready.
I waited a couple of minutes so that it looked as if I was really changing. After a while, I went downstairs. I saw that my mom had all of the breakfast ready. I continued to help her and we both sat down.
"What did you do in the library?" she asked curiously.
"I read about the president of the United States," I answered nervously.
"What did you learn?" she asked.
"Ummm he's African American," I answered.
I tried my best to avoid questions from my mother and continued to eat my breakfast. My mom tried to make small talk to me but I just ignored her and continued to eat. After I finished eating I picked up after myself and washed my plate. I put away what my mother had used like the bacon and eggs and went to the living room. I turned on the television and watched soccer. When I saw that my mom was finished eating, she said that she was going to the supermarket. As soon as she left, I headed upstairs and went threw Mark's backpack. I opened the backpack and found many portfolios that read classified. Then it all hit me. The men who were wearing black, were coming for him, but why? What was this guy into? Was he a criminal? I proceeded in reading the article in which it read that he was a suspect in the hacking of one of their softwares. How could a teenager be so intelligent in hacking a government software? Then I heard a voice.
"Hello,is anybody home?
I hid the backpack, rushed downstairs, and opened the door. As I opened the door, I saw that the man that was knocking was one of the men who were wearing all black.
"Hello son," he said "have you seen anything suspicious around the area?" He asked.
       "Sorry, I haven't seen anything." I responded
        "Well if you see anything, give this number a call," he said as he gave me a business card.
   I thanked him, shut the door and lead out a exhale of happiness. I continued to watch television and started to fall asleep. I woke up to find my mother and father setting up the kitchen for dinner. I sat down and began to eat. My father began to tell us about his day, but I was filled with too many ideas to pay any attention. I finished dinner and headed for my room. I changed into my pajamas and began to sleep. I remember that I had left the business card in my jeans back pocket so I got up from the bed and got it from my jeans. I noticed that it read F.B.I  and became curious. I left it under my pillow and decided to go to sleep.

The next day, I was extremely tired. I tried my best to go to sleep, but I couldn’t. I woke up countless times to clear things out of my mind, I was clearly very nervous about the situation.Then I remembered about the business card. I got up from my bad and looked all over for it. I looked under the pillows, I threw the bed sheets on the ground, I even checked under the bed but it was nowhere to be found. I had to find it or else my parents will start to ask questions.
“Alex, are you up yet?” asked my mother as she walked upstairs.
I quickly jumped in my bed and acted as if I were asleep. At that exact moment, I heard my mother open the door and walk over toward my bed. I could feel her eyes looking at me, as if she was an eagle looking down for her next meal.
“He must’ve not slept well last night,” whispered my mother, “I’ll let him rest a little longer.”
She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. I stayed there for a little bit longer until I heard my mothers footsteps walking down the stairs. I continued to search my room for the business card. I looked under desk, I cleaned out drawers, I even cleaned my desk to see if it was there, but it was no where to be found.
“What’s all that noise!” exclaimed my mother as she walked up the stairs.
Like before, I jumped into bed and pretended to be asleep, only this time, I was not the one making the noise.
I heard what sounded like tractors construction workers, and cranes.I got up from my bed and walked over to the nearest window. I observed that the library which I had just been in yesterday, was being demolished. Outside the construction zone were large crowds yelling and rioting to keep the library. As I peeked through the window, I noticed that the man in black that came yesterday, was holding back civilians from the construction zone.
“Move away from the tractors!” demanded the man in black.
At that moment, my mother entered the room and saw me looking out the window.
“I thought you were asleep.” inquired my mother.
“I thought you were asleep.” I said to avoid further questions.
“What’s going on out there?” asked my mother as she walked up to the window.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but it doesn’t look that serious.”
“I’m going to go check the news,” said my mother, “I will be right back.
My mother bolted downstairs and turned on the television. I closed the window and followed her downstairs.
“What channel has the best news?”  asked my mother.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s 8:15,” she answered.
“Then you should probably check channel 5,” I requested.
My mother switched the channel to channel 5, but nothing was showing. All it was showing were some black and white lines like in a old television.
“Try channel 7,” I commented.
My mother switched the channel again, but it looked the same as channel 5.
“Why do you think it does that?” asked my mother.
“I do not know but I’m sure it is just the signal,” I responded.
We turned off the television and headed upstairs again. We saw that the protestors had been growing in numbers by the minute. Obviously so did law enforcement. Only this time, there was not any men in blac.Many large suv’s approached and from behind dropped off many men who were wearing military like outfits. They wore large black boots and long camo pants, they also had on camo jackets and all had the same type of haircuts. They seemed to be very strong and well built. My mother noticed that they were probably very high ranked because everyone treated them with respect.
“Who do you think these people are?” asked my mother.
“I do not know but they seem like the military that you see on television.
We let out a big laugh and continued to observe the demolishing of the library. We observed everyones actions. The men who were wearing black, started to walk around as if they were looking for something. Meanwhile, the military people were giving instructions to the construction workers.
Eventually the crowd broke off and started to walk away from the area which once was a library. The tractors and cranes were starting to leave the gated area as well. The construction workers stayed and cleaned the debris of the library.
“Why do you think they would demolish the library on such short notice?” asked my mother.
I thought about telling my mother what had happened. That I had seen someone who is really dangerous to the country. Someone who is stealing something from them, but I couldn’t. It was too dangerous to tell someone.
“I don’t know,” I responded.
“Did you see something suspicious when you were there?” questioned my mother.
“Why so many questions about the library!” I exclaimed.
“Because, yesterday after you fell asleep, me and your father received a phone call asking if we had seen anything suspicious around the community.” stated my mother
“Well, what did you tell them?” I asked.
“Why so many questions?” asked my mother.
I started to laugh but also became angry with my mother.
“I’m going to make breakfast now!” shouted my mother from downstairs.
I wanted to go back to sleep but it was getting a little late. I grabbed a warm towel and headed for the bathroom. I turned on the water and took a 20 minute shower. As I was in the shower, I tried to remember where I had placed the business card. Although I tried my best to remember, I could not remember where I had placed it. I decided to get out of the shower and search in Mark’s backpack. I left the shower, entered my room, and looked through the backpack. As I searched through the backpack, I found many U.S files that read, CONFIDENTIAL.
“Alex!” shouted my mother, “Breakfast is ready.
I put the backpack back under my bed and took out my clothes from my drawer.  I changed into my new set of clothes as fast as I could and headed downstairs. As I headed downstairs, I noticed that the whole house smelled like a freshly made batch of pancakes. I entered the kitchen and on my plate were 4 pancakes stacked on top of each other. I helped my mother by passing the utensils on to the table and served the beverages. Then we both sat down and began to eat. I topped my pancakes with a scoop of butter and drenched them with Aunt Jemima's maple syrup. I savored every pancake as if it was my last meal and washed it down with a glass of orange juice.
“Did you like them?” asked my mother.
“These are the best pancakes I have ever tried.” I responded as I took my last bite.
“After I was done eating, I got up from the kitchen table and washed my plate.
I helped my mom put away the ingredients that she had used to make the pancakes and then asked if I could be excused.
“Yes, but don’t go anywhere because today we are going to enroll you in your new school.” said my mother.
Then all of a sudden,I remembered all of the things that I enjoyed about school.I remember the laughs that I had with my friends back in Argentina. How we would all get out of class at exactly 11:30 and played soccer until the sun went down. I remembered the teachers and how they would put movies or let us leave school instead of teaching. But this time, I felt different. This year I would have no friends. I won't have a easy going teacher. This year, I was going to learn, and I was looking forward to it.
I was on my way to my room, when I heard someone knocking on my door. I let me my mom open the door and entered my room. I shut the door behind me, and looked outside my window at what was left of the library.
"Alex, someone is here to see you!" shouted my mother from downstairs.
"I'm on my way down!" I replied.
I ran down the stairs and saw someone sitting on the couch. At first I didn't know who it was, but as I headed closer I realized that it was Mark.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm not who you think I am, I'm innocent," he replied.
"Why should I believe you?" I asked him as I looked into his eyes.
"Do you really think I would go through all this trouble to locate you if I was guilty," he answered.
He left after he answered my question and stormed out of the room.
"What was that all about?" asked my mother.
" I don't know, I've never seen him in my life," I answered to calm my mother down.
"Well whatever it was, forget about it because we are heading to the school district," announced my mother.
I entered the bathroom to brush my teeth and then got ready to leave. I grabbed my dark blue sweater and watched the television while my mother got ready. I skipped through channels and stumbled upon a news station. There was a picture of Mark and the news reporter was accusing him of stealing confidential information.
"Are you ready to leave?" asked my mother as she walked down the stairs.
I quickly turned off the television and stood by the door.
"Yeah,I'm just waiting for you," I answered nervously as I put in my sweater to hide my face. I walked out of the room, followed by my mother, and shut the door behind her.
We decided to wait for the elevator this time just because it was early in the day and there wasn't a long line of people waiting.
"What time do we have the appointment?" I asked out of curiosity.
"In about an hour or so," replied my mother.
The elevator doors shut closed and I pressed the button that read lobby. It took us about 1 minute to reach the lobby but we were ready to leave. We saw James waiting for us outside and got into the car.
"Hey James, how have you been?" I asked.
"Not bad, been pretty busy lately," answered James as he scratched his head, "Anyway, where are we heading?"
"The school district please," answered my mother.
James drove off unto the main road and we headed in the same direction as when we drove to Hollywood. As we drove through the streets, me and my mother both noticed that although it was barely Tuesday, the streets were packed. They were filled with tourist from all over the world. We saw them wearing their favorite athletic teams jerseys like Ajax from Amsterdam, Real Madrid from Madrid, and even Moscow from Russia.
"They come from all over the world," announced James as he observed the way in which we observed the tourist.
"Where do they usually come from?" asked my mother.
"Usually from London," answered James.
It took us no more than 20 minutes to reach the District's main office, but it took us forever to find parking. This was due to the long line of cars that were exiting the building.
We exited the car and walked up the stairs to enter the building. As soon as we entered, it seemed like chaos everywhere. There were papers flying, children running, and babies crying. We walked up to one of the windows and told them about our appointment. We waited for her to examine the papers and later told us that we could have a seat and our names would be called in about 10 minutes.
"Do you think you can pick us up in a hour or so?" asked my mother to James.
"Sure thing," answered James.
James exited the building, entered the car, and left. Meanwhile my mother read a fashion magazine and I watched the television that was above window number 8.
"Alexandro Rodriguez, please head over to window number 4" said a colored woman in her late 40's.
My mother returned the magazine to where she found it and we walked over to the window.
"Are you Alexander Rodriguez?" asked the woman.
"Yes," I replied.
"Please follow the lady through the door and turn left into the supervisor's office," demanded the woman.
We followed the lady and found the supervisor's office and there we found a old man waiting for us. My mother told me to wait outside while they had the appointment. 20 minutes passed by and my mother finished the appointment. We decided to leave and wait for James near Hollywood. We walked around and I asked my mother what they talked about during the appointment.
"It was just to learn more about the school district, your new school, and your classes," answered my mother.
We entered a store and bought something to eat. I bought a small sandwich and my mother bought something to drink. We ate at a nearby bench and waited for James to come pick us up. We decided to walk back to the district's office and found that James was waiting for us.
"How did it go?" asked James.
"It was a really fast process and very useful," answered my mother.
James started the car and began to drive back to the hotel. When we reached the hotel, we thanked James and headed to our room.
We took the elevator because we were too tired to walk up the steps and found my father waiting for us.
"How was your day?" asked my mother.
"It was really good," answered my father.
"Are you hungry?" asked my mother.
"No, I actually ate a cheeseburger on my way home," replied my father, "but I am pretty tired."
"How about we go to sleep early and call it a day?" asked my mother.
"Very well then," replied my Father.
My parents headed upstairs and went to sleep at 8:00. I didn't know what to do, but I was not going to go to sleep. I decided to head upstairs and look through the backpack, one last time. I took out the backpack from under my bed and took everything out of it. There were pictures of men who looked like the men in black suit’s. In that same folder, where a list of names. Besides those names, were phone numbers, addresses, credit card information everything that was meant to be personal, were now exposed. I found it hard to believe that someone would steal this information. As I read more and more files, I couldn’t help but remember Mark’s words. Why he had come all the way to my room just to tell me he was innocent. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t want to be seen like his accomplice. I began to hear sounds coming from downstairs and began to put the files back in the backpack. I heard the sounds coming closer so I threw the backpack under the bed and covered my face with my bed sheets.
“Where is it?” said a voice.
I tried to fall asleep and ignore it but the noises wouldn’t stop. I decided to head downstairs and see what the noises were. I tiptoed silently down the stairs and found my father searching through the fridge.
“I thought you were going to sleep?” I asked my father.
“I was, but your mother is getting her contractions and was in the mood  for a sandwich,” answered my father.
“Then why were you screaming,” I interrogated my father.
“Because,” he replied, “I couldn’t find the bacon.”
I walked upstairs and was no longer interested in searching through the backpack. Instead I wrapped myself around the warm blankets, and went to sleep.

The next day, I felt in a really good mood and needed some time to reflect. I thought to myself what my life had come to be.It had just been a few weeks since we recently moved to Los Angeles.I was an ordinary child with a ordinary family. Struggling to make ends meet with only my Father working. My mother was expecting a child and the sudden change from living in a small town in Argentina known as Buenos Aires, to moving to the states was unpredictable.
Now, we live in a nice neighborhood, surrounded by foreigners and tourist that come to visit the city. We live in a hotel in which we stay there for no cost and get to enjoy the elegant place. We have tour guides, chauffeurs, and helpers who come and clean our rooms, take us to know the city, and help us with everyday tasks. I love the new type of lifestyle that we live in, but I don’t believe we deserve it. Why is it that we are living like this and others are going through poverty? I felt bad for those people because I know what it feels like to be in that situation. I got up from bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. I made sure that the water was warm and got in. I stood there for about ten minutes, thinking how different our life as a family would have been if my father never got that promotion. Ten minutes turned into twenty, but I couldn’t help but worry for my family back in Argentina.
I got out of the shower, reached for my towel, and dried myself. When I was finished, and changed into some black short, and a white t-shirt, and went back to sleep.
I started to feel nauseous and I could feel my body get warmer by the minute. I tried to get up and inform my mother, but all of a sudden I felt my body get really tired. So tired, that at one point I felt like I had no strength. I eventually crawled to my mother’s room and knocked on her door.
“I don’t feel too good!” I shouted as I knocked in the door.
“What’s wrong?” asked my mother as she opened the door.
“I feel as if I have lost all of my strength, and I feel very nauseous,” I replied.
My mother helped me get back to my bedroom and called James from the house phone to see if he could take us to the doctor.
“I’m on my way,” replied James.
My mother helped me walk down the stairs, and helped me get to the elevator. We waited for James at the lobby. We waited for about 10 minutes, and then James came and took us to the hospital.
“What’s wrong?” asked James as we rushed through the streets.
“He doesn’t feel very good and I wanted to make sure he was ok,”answered my mother.
I began to feel very tired and felt like going to sleep. I shut my eyes to try to relax myself, but I began to fall asleep. I could hear my mother telling me to sit up and not to go to sleep. After almost 15 minutes of being stuck in traffic, we arrived. I noticed that although it was early, the sun hid behind dark black clouds and what sounded to be lightning. James got out of the car, opened the door for us, and helped me get out of the car.
“We are almost there,” said James.
Finally, we had arrived at the main entrance of the emergency rooms. From there I was told to sit down, and wait until my name was called. After a few minutes, which felt like eternity, a couple of nurses helped me get onto a carrier, and took me to see a doctor. There, I got my x-rays taken and sat there for a couple of minutes. I could see the doctor examining my x-rays and all of a sudden, his eye’s widened and began to scream at his nurses. The nurses came running in and took me to an operation room. They told me to sit down, and relax. Then, I felt a small pinch on my arm, and went to sleep.

I could feel the brightness of the sun coming from a window. I tried to cover my face with my bed sheets, but there was one problem. I couldn’t move a single part of my body. I opened my eyes and awakened in a strange room. There were curtains, chairs, couches, but there seemed to be no one around. I began to scream for help, but no one was coming. I tried to remember how I had gotten here, but I couldn’t remember. I heard a door creak as if someone was to enter, and pretended to go to sleep.
“How have you been feeling Alex?” said a man, “I am doctor James Smith.”
I rose my head from under the bedsheets and saw a tall man, my mother, and my father.
“Why am I here?” I asked my mother.
“During August, you weren’t feeling very good so James brought you to the Hospital” replied my mother.
“What was the last thing you remember?” asked the doctor.
“I remember you, examining my x-rays, and then calling your nurses to help you with something,” I replied.
“Alex, that was a month ago,” said the doctor.
“So you're saying, I’ve been here for over a month?” I asked nervously.
“Not exactly,” he answered “You caught an unusual virus and went to various hospitals to be examined, besides that, nobody knew where you were for about 2 weeks.”
“I don’t remember a thing!” I exclaimed with anger.
The doctor suggested to my parents that it would be best if they gave me some time for it to sink it. My parents said their goodbyes and told me that they would be back in a while.
I could not believe it. Where was I for all those days? The idea of just being by myself made me become frustrated. I tried to remember what I had done for all of those days, but I could not. I heard someone knocking on the door and sat up straight.
A old man wearing black shoes, gray pants, and a squared shirt entered the room. “How have you been feeling, Alex?” asked the old man.
I was confused with his question. I didn’t know him, but apparently he knew me. I became very confused and decided to not say anything. I sat there, nervous and confused and waited for him to leave the room.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” asked the old man.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember you,” I replied.
“I’m Mr.Kraken, your schools principal,” he said with a wide grin.
“Nice to meet you,” I responded.
“On behalf of Franklin High School, we hope that you’ll feel better soon.” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied.
"School will resume on November 19, but we'll let you catch up," he said as he walked out of the room, and shut the door behind him. I thought of the way he speaks, his body language, he didn’t seem like a principle.
I could tell he was up to no good, but I didn’t know what it was. I wanted to keep on thinking, but I was feeling really tired and closed my eyes.
               "How have you been feeling?" asked a tall, white teenager.
               "Do I know you?" I asked with fear.
               "I'm Marc, we met at the public library," he said with a face of confusion.
               I didn't remember him, but he must of remembered me. I didn't know what to tell him. I tried to keep the conversation going but I couldn't understand where he was from.
               "Well thanks for coming Marc, I really appreciate you coming and I hope to see you around," I responded nervously.
               "It was nice talking to you again," he said as he slowly walked towards the door.
               "I'll see you around on the 19," he said as he exited the room.
               "Sure thing, I'll be there," I whispered to myself as he walked out of the room.
              I tried my best to remember events that had happened to me during the past month, but I could not. I became mad with myself for not remembering. I wanted to have memories of school and of friends, but I couldn't remember if I had made any. I started to feel week and began to feel weary. I layed there and slowly began to fall asleep.

The next day, I awoke in a sad and tired mood. I had a very bad headache and felt as if someone had hit my head against a brick wall. I tried to sit up from the hospital bed, but I was felt very weak. I looked over to the side and found my parents sleeping with their arms crossed and sitting up. I tried to wake them up, but they were too tired. It took me a while to summon all of my strength, but I managed to sit along the hospital bed. I heard someone entering the room and layed back down onto the bed.
            "How have you been feeling," said one of the nurses.
            "I've been better," I said in a joking matter as me and the nurse chuckled.
            "Are you ready to go home?" asked the nurse.
            "I want too, but I feel as if it will be best if I stay a little bit longer," I responded.
            "I'm afraid that won't be possible," replied the nurse.
             At that point my parents had started to awake from their sleep and looked around the room to observe their surroundings.
            "How are you feeling Alex?" asked my mother.
            "Better than before," I answered.
             At that point, the nurse had taken my parents out of the room to talk with them. I waited there anxiously and patiently for my parents to enter the room. Minutes became hours and after a few hours, my parents entered. They were accompanied by Dr.Smith and had a wheelchair with them.
       "Are you ready to go back home?" asked my father.
I shook my head up and down and sat towards the end of the hospital bed. My parents parked the wheelchair against the edge of the bed. Meanwhile, the nurses helped me get on my feet and walked me over to the wheelchair. I felt better and felt a rush of happiness run through my body.
             As I sat down onto the wheelchair, I felt my body become weary and lazy again. It felt as if I had gotten used to being in the hospital for so long, that I no longer felt the need to be energetic. My father pushed me and we headed to what seemed an exit. On our way out we thanked all of the nurses and doctors that had helped me through the month and a half that I had been in the hospital.
             "Thank you for everything that you have done for me," I said to Dr. Smith.
             "You’re welcome, " he responded,"I do it to see others be happy.
             My father pushed me all throughout the hospital and we finally found out way in to the parking lot.
             "Over here!" shouted a young man.
             My parents seemed to know the young man and walked over to his car.
             "Nice to see you again,Alex," replied the young man.
             I didn't recognize him so I decided to ignore him and get into his car. My father helped me and put my wheelchair in the back of the trunk. My parents got into the car and we headed home. My parents continued their nap and I tried to continue mine. I layed my head against the window and closed my eyes. As much as I tried to go back to sleep, I couldn't. Instead I looked out the window and admired Los Angeles. I missed seeing the view of the city, the people, and the tourists.
             "How have you been feeling?" asked the young man whom at the time was driving.
             "Good," I said nervously, "Thank you."
             "You seem to not remember me?" asked the young man
             "I'm sorry, but I don't remember a thing," I responded.
             "It's ok, I'm James, your personal assistant," he responded.
             "Nice to meet you," I replied with a smile.
             "Don't worry," said James "You'll get better soon."
             I spent a couple of minutes reflecting on what James had said. I continued to observe the people and their actions. As I observed everyone, I couldn't help but wonder what they had gone through. I became interested in their lives and in what they had to tell. I got tired of all of the observing and decided to take a nap. I layed my head against the cars window and closed my eyes.

After what felt like a couple of minutes, I began to wake up. I woke up laying down on a couch. I layed there tired and confused at how I had gotten here. I started to hear noises in the kitchen and to my luck, it was my mom.
            "How did you sleep?" asked my mother.
            "How did I get here?" I interrupted as my mother asked me her question.
           "What do you mean?" asked my mother.
           "I was sleeping in the car from our way from the hospital," I said confused, "Yet, I woke up on this couch."
           "While you were asleep in the car, your father sat you down onto your wheelchair, took the elevator, and laid you down onto the couch," answered my mother.
            I summoned enough force to sit along the side of the couch and reached for the t.v remote. I went from channel to channel and stopped on a news channel. There was a picture of Mark and they were talking about how he was being looked as one of the suspects in the taking of confidential U.S files. I sat there shocked and confused at what he was doing at the hospital. I wanted to ask my mother but I wasn't sure what she was going to say.
          "What are we having for breakfast?" I asked my mother.
          "Pancakes and eggs," she responded, "same as always."
          I sat there, staring at the television trying to remember if Mark was really what others said. I tried so hard to remember, but I couldn't. I became angry with myself and didn't know what to do. I didn't enjoy the fact that I had been missing for such a long time period. I wanted to remember what I had done with my life. I didn't want to live with the fact that I had forgotten important memories in that month. As I continued in watching the news, there were pictures of me. They were saying that I was one of Marks accomplices in stealing the Files. They had pictures of me wearing weird clothes and doing weird actions like talking on a pay phone.. I needed to find Mark and find out for myself what he had done.
          "Breakfast is ready," informed my mother.
          I turned off the television and tried to stand up. I began looking for my wheelchair and noticed that it was a few steps away from me. I took a few steps closer to the wheelchair and advanced at a slow pace. I could feel my legs beginning to feel weaker and tried to pick up the pace. I got closer and closer to the wheelchair and began to feel weak and weary. As I got only a few feet away from the wheelchair, I threw myself and landed right on it. I was able to push myself to the kitchen and parked the wheelchair next to a chair. I grabbed onto the armrest of the wheelchair and carried myself onto the kitchen chair.
          "How are you feeling on the wheelchair?" asked my mother.
          "I don't really like it," I answered.
          "The doctor said it will be best to use it for a couple of days," replied my mother.
          I was glad that is was temporarily and not something that I would have to use permanently. I served myself a glass of milk and asked my mom if she could pass me the ketchup. I waited for her to sit down and then we both began to eat. I enjoyed every bite that I took.
          "When was the last time that I had eaten something?" I questioned my mother.
          "Two or three days ago," she answered.
          When I heard that I hadn't eaten in a couple of days, I began to devour my breakfast. I ate as if it was my last meal and favored every piece of it. When I was finished with my pancakes, I wanted more and more. At the end of breakfast, I had eaten more than nine pancakes and about 5 eggs. My mother was shocked by the huge amount of food that I had eaten. I thanked my mother for the wonderful breakfast and helped her clean the kitchen. She washes the dishes while I put away all of the ingredients that she had used, back to its original place. When I was finished, I continued to watch the television.
          "I'm going to be leaving in a couple of minutes," informed my mother.
          "That's fine," I replied. "Where are you going to go?" I asked
          "To the grocery store," answered my mother.
          I continued to watch the television and relaxed as I laid there watching a sports show. I watched highlights of soccer games from all over the world. Goal after goal, I began to feel bored.
          "Do you think you can bring home some water bottles," I said as my mother headed out of the door.
          "No problem," said my mother.
           As soon as my mom had left, I lifted myself up from the living rooms couch and wanted to sit on the wheelchair. I used all of the force that I had and carried myself into the wheelchair. As I planted my butt into the wheelchairs seat, I felt force in my thighs and legs. I began to circle the living rooms couch which was placed in the center of the room. I circled it various times and increased the speed as I circled it more and more times. After a couple of times lapping the couch, I didn't want to be in the wheelchair any more. I didn't want to sit down or lay down, I wanted to stand. I grabbed ahold of the wheelchairs armrest and raised my body as I pushed myself up. I straightened my legs and did some stretches. I tried to raise myself by standing on my tippy toes, but I couldn't. I shuffled myself over to the couch and sat there for a while. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I summoned all of my strength and rose to a full standing position. I walked extremely slow and headed to the door. As I headed for the door, the person began to knock even louder. I opened the door and there he was, it was Mark.
"How have you been?" he asked with a large grin on his face.
     I began to take steps backwards and tried to close the door
  "What's wrong?" he said, "You don't remember me?"
"I know what you are!" I shouted. "You're all over the news."
  "I'm not who they say I am." he said as he entered the room and sat on the couch.
            "Please explain that to me?" I asked in a interested mood.
            "I was a normal teenager, then I entered high school, Mr.Kraken had given me a backpack which was filled with confidential information," he said almost crying.
            "So explain why you are all over the news," I said
            "Mr.Kraken set me up and reported me to the FBI, they've been looking for me since then," said Mark.
            "Why don't you just say the truth?" I suggested.
            "It's not that easy!" exclaimed Mark as he rose from the living rooms couch.
           "What does this have to do with me?" I asked.
            "Your from Argentina,which is not having good relations with the U.S," he said in a explanatory voice.
            "What does that have to do with anything?" I asked.
            "Mr.Kraken already set you up in those two weeks that you went missing," said Mark.
            "How?" I asked.
            "When you were under extensive care, he took your body, and drugged you," he said, "This allowed him to have control over you without you knowing what happened.
            "Why would he do that?" I asked.
            "He's a Russian spy and hates Americans," he said as he looked over his shoulder.
            It all made sense now. The only thing that was left to do is to confront Mr. Kraken.
           "Tomorrow's the orientation and I was planning if you want to help me confront Mr.Kraken?" asked Mark
           "Absolutely," I answered.
           "See you tomorrow," said Mark as he walked out of the room, and shut the door.

I walked over to the couch and continued to watch television. I went from channel to channel and found nothing to watch. I sat there for a couple of minutes, looking for something entertaining but there was nothing. I tuned off the television and headed upstairs. It was hard for me at first but I later got used to it.
As I headed upstairs, I entered my room. I was shocked by how well organized the room was. Although I had not been there in a few weeks, it was cleaner than it ever has been. I entered and decided to get my stuff ready for tomorrow morning. I organized all of my books, supplies, and put all of it inside my backpack. When I had finished, I heard noises coming from downstairs.
I slowly creeped into my parents room and got the baseball bat which was in their closet. I headed downstairs slowly while I grasped the metal bat in my right hand. As I got closer, I heard the noises getting quiet and so did I. I stopped moving and stood still. I heard people whispering and I could hear them taking steps toward the kitchen. I backed up slowly and waited at the staircase.
  "Who's there?" I asked.
  There was no response, but I knew that I was in danger. Then from out of the kitchen, a man who was dressed in all black began to walk towards me. I was too nervous to move and didn't that that struck one him with the metal bat would be a good idea. As he approached me, he reached for his waist  and pulled out what seemed to be a badge.
"Hello Alex, I'm from the FBI, and we're here to search for something that has gone missing," said the man in black.
"Nice to meet you, but I will have company in a couple of minutes," I said trying not to look suspicious.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," said the FBI agent.
"And why is that?" I asked the agent.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you some questions," said the agent.
   I knew right away that the FBI agent would find out about Mark and Mr.Kraken.
"Have you received any unusual visitor?" asked the agent.
  Before I could answer, I heard someone opening the door. To my luck, it was my mother.
"What are you doing here!" exclaimed my mother.
"Ma'am, we are here to ask your son a few questions," said the agent.
           "I don't care, get out of my house!" shouted my mother with anger.
           Without saying another word, the agents left the house.
           "What happened?" asked my mother.
           "I don't know," I said nervously, "It all happened so fast."
           "What did they want?" asked my mother.
           "They were searching the apartment," I said nervously.
           "How did you feel?" questioned my mother.
           "I was scared, I didn't know what to do and I thought they would do something," I answered.
            I decided to head for the living rooms couch and lay down for a bit.I couldn't believe what had just happened. I could've been arrested but instead, my mother saved me. I was excited for tomorrow. I didn't want to be seen as a suspect or as a accomplice. I knew I had to be on my best behavior tomorrow and be ready to do whatever it took to find out what I had done for those two weeks. I turned on the television and wrapped myself under my cozy blanket. I flipped thru the channels, but a couple of minutes later, I found myself falling asleep.

The next day, I woke up an hour or two earlier than usual. I rubbed my eyes a few times and headed for the bathroom. I grabbed a white towel on my way there and turned on the warm water. I took off my warm pajamas and stepped into the shower. I stood there for a few minutes, trying to see if the warm water could awaken me. A couple of minutes later, I rinsed off all of the soap and turned the water off. I grabbed the warm white towel and headed for my room. I took out some socks from my drawer and changed. When I was done changing, I awoke my mother and told her that it was time to go.
"Let me change and I will be down there in a couple of minutes," said my mother.
"Sure," I responded.
I decided to wait for my mother downstairs and headed for the kitchen. I started to take out the ingredients for a sandwich and got a butter knife from the counter. I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and walked over to the couch. It was when I took the first bite of my sandwich when my mom began to head downstairs. I put my sandwich in a napkin and headed out the door. I walked with my mother to the lobby and we both waited for James to arrive. We waited for about ten or twenty minutes when James arrived in a nice black car. We greeted him and got into the car.
"What time does your orientation start?" asked James.
"It starts at 10, but I would like to be there at 9:30," I responded.
"No problem," answered James
I continued eating my sandwich on our way to my school and observed Los Angeles. I was afraid for what was going to happen. I tried to think positive and keep myself motivated, but I felt too much pressure. It was in that moment that I decided to help Mark and prove his innocence. James drove at a fast speed and I became more and more nervous. We were hardly ever stopping at the stop lights and it seemed as if someone was everything was pointing to the fact that I needed to be at school as soon as possible. As we stopped at a stoplight, I noticed about two or three black cars. I knew right away that we were being followed. James seemed to notice the same thing as me and when the stoplight turned green,he accelerated. As a result, we were able to enter the schools parking before them.
"We will be back in a little bit," said my mother.
"It's fine," I replied, "I'll go and check in while you come back.
James exited the parking lot before the black cars entered it. I walked over to some tables that were in front of what seemed to be a library.
"Last name and first name please," stated a young colored woman.
"Alexandro Rodriguez," I replied.
The woman handed me a list of my schedule and some other paperwork. I looked down and the first name that I saw was Mr.Kraken. I had him for history and for advisory. I knew that this was going to be a tough year unless I did something today. I looked down at my schedule in which I was assigned to get my I.D card for the 2014-2015 school year in the main gym. I walked around for a couple of minutes until I entered the gym. I waited in line to get my picture taken when I spotted Mark hidden by the stages curtains. I stood there waiting and after I got my picture taken, walked towards him slowly. We greeted each other and walked out of the gym through the back door. As we headed for the schools courtyards, we noticed that the men in black were asking about us. We hid in a building and entered a classroom. To our luck, it was Mr.Krakens classroom. We looked at each other as he looked at us with disgust.
"What are you guys doing here?" he asked as he walked over to us.
We looked at each other and didn't know what to respond.
"Has Mark told you about the files?" asked Mr.Kraken.
"I know that you set him up to make him look guilty," I replied.
"You're right, I did do that," assured Mr.Kraken.
“What else did you do?” asked Mark.
“I successfully took over Mr. Rodriguez's mind for two weeks to do my evil labors,” he said with a wide grin.
I became furious and ran towards him. I felt bad because of his age, but I felt satisfied as I saw him struggling on the ground.
At that moment, the men in black entered the classroom, and took us both. We walked around the classroom and Mark took something out of his left pocket.
"Wait, we have evidence!" shouted Mark as he played a voice recorder.
The men in black were about to arrest us when they heard that Mr.Kraken had confessed to giving Mark the files, without him knowing. The men in black looked at each other, took the voice recorder and arrested Mr.Kraken. Me and Mark celebrated with shouts of joy. We walked out of the classroom and continued with our day without telling anyone what had happened. After the orientation we said our goodbyes and looked forward to seeing each other. 
I decided to walk home due to what had happened. I needed some time to be alone and reflect on what I had done. On my way home, I thought about what I had done. How important it might've been for the U.S. I know I will never be able to replace my hometown, my people, but I loved Los Angeles more and more every day. The amazing weather in which the sun warms you from within as the nice summer breeze refreshes you. The delicate blue skies in which are admired from a far and the oceans, and bays that allow you admire Los Angeles.



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