05+8th+grade+team+FOUR

Anna, Drew, Andrew

“Let me hold it!”

“No, let me hold it! They got it for me! Besides, an eight year old shouldn’t be holding a pocket knife anyway.”

This pointless fight between my brothers had been going on for what seemed like hours. Their bickering wouldn’t help the debacle that we were in. Staring at the ceiling of the minivan, I had been trying to comprehend how we went from the top of the world to the slums of Brooklyn in a matter of weeks. It all seemed like a dream.

“Stop it you two, your fighting is giving me a migraine!” My mom’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“But mom, he stole my pocket knife!” said Robert, my older brother.

“Mommy,” Tommy, my younger brother, whined, “I just want to see it. You know I won’t hurt anyone with it.”

“Robert put the pocket knife away. You’re just taunting your brother with it,” my mom barked at him. I could tell that she was becoming frustrated.

“If everyone in this car doesn’t stop talking this minute I think I’ll rip my hair out!” my dad screamed.

“I’m not even talking, dad,” I mumbled. But apparently he heard because he responded with a “Don’t you dare talk back to me Trey.”

We sat quietly for the rest of the trip. Presently, I saw an expansion of buildings looming ahead of me. They were nothing like the buildings that I was used to. I had seen them in pictures but never seen them up close like this. They seemed as if they had been there for centuries and had the essence of the impoverished families that lived in them. I suddenly realized that us, too, would soon be one of these families. We soon pulled up to the shabbiest building that I have ever seen. The wood on the front porch was rotting through, and as soon as I got out of the car and took my first step into my new home, I got a splinter. What a way to start my new life.

My mind wandered back to how I got here. My life wasn't always this way. Our family used to live in a million dollar apartment in Manhattan with both of my brothers going to boarding school. My father used to be the CEO of General Motors satisfying the needs of the family with ease. My mother was a stay-at-home mom whose only worries were to get me to basketball practice on time and throw lavish parties. After my father lost his job to the falling economy, for a short time we thought we could make it with what we saved. However, I have the feeling that both our life and family will completely transform.

My family and I arrived inside, and the first word that comes to my mind is "nasty." A thin layer of dust and dirt covers the floor. I turned a switch upward, only to find that nothing happened. The light bulb must be blown, I thought. As I meandered through the house, I noticed that every room was completely bare and lonely. It seemed as though no one had lived here for at least a hundred years. It reminded me of a haunted house, the kind that you always see in movies but convince yourself don't really exist. I had a sudden urge to run as fast as I could in the opposite direction, but I knew that that wasn't an option.

As I heard my dad call my name in the distance, I ran to the car to get my bags and take them to my new room. I took the bags and walked up the creaky steps all the while growing my hate toward this house. I arrived at my room and saw what seemed to be a box with a window and a bed with the springs literally coming out of the mattress. How did they expect me to sleep on something that could be viewed as a foreign death trap? Then just when I began to exhale and begin to accept the fact, I'm sure I witnessed something non human scurry across the floor. As the rat crawled away, my mom walked in clearly as distraught over this house as I was.

"Oh George, this house is terrible!" I heard my mother shriek "just look at everything! It's all in shambles! Why did you have to lose your job George, we are ruined. Look what you have done to the family! Look what we have to live with! I just found what I think are the remains of a bird!" mother, clearly panicking, began to sob.

"I have done nothing but support this family for years, and I'm sorry I can no longer give you designer clothing and fancy jewelry, but I'm doing the best that I can! You know that it is no fault of mine that General Motors fired me. The way I see it, if you weren't such a compulsive shopper maybe we would have some money left, Robyn!"

My parents went on playing the blame game. Ever since we got into this debacle, they had done nothing but argue. But, for some reason, the arguing was better than the cold, polite conversation that they used to have. They had never seemed so open with each other, and the fact that they could now argue gave me a feeling of relief. They seemed like an actual couple instead of two people who shared a house.

I couldn't take anymore of this house, situation, and listening to the arguing so I finally decided to explore the neighborhood. I walked out the front door and was met by a police car going full speed down the street trying to catch an escaping car. I wondered to myself how many more times I would have to hear that siren during my stay in this neighborhood. As I continued walking, I saw a basketball court filled with guys who I immediately knew not to cross. Their cursing could be heard all the way down the block and they played basketball with an intensity that couldn't not be seen anywhere but the streets. The thing that surprised me was that these guys were actually //good// players but they played with such a style that I had never seen before at the Private School League in which I played. Intimidated, I turned around and slowly made my way back to the house.

I must have taken a wrong turn as I was rambling back to my house, because I soon came to an unfamiliar place. There was a convenience store, the kind that I always used to look at and think of as a hangout for delinquents. I saw some guys smoking cigarettes and strutting around the store like they owned it. They looked tough, like they had lived in this place there whole lives. They probably had, I thought. I was startled when one of them called to me.

"Hey boy! Haven't seen you round here before. Watcha doin' here?"

I heard him say this, but didn't reply. If I looked like I hadn't heard, maybe he wouldn't bother me anymore.

But he persisted, with a "did you hear me boy? Watcha doin' here?"

I couldn't ignore him any longer. He looked as though he could easily overtake me if he got angry. So I said quietly "uh... I..I..I uh live here."

"Haven't seen you round here. Where you come from?"

This stranger seemed awfully hostile. He was getting closer, and he had a strange look in his eyes, as if he wanted something from me. He finally came face to face with me and I turned around and ran. I ran all the way home, ran through the door, and locked it behind me. Breathing heavily, I walked into the filthy room we called a kitchen and found my parents arguing once again. They clearly could see that I was scared and breathing heavily.

"What's wrong Trey?"

"I'm tired of this stupid neighborhood, I'm tired of these stupid hood rats, and i'm tired of this stupid city!”

My parents attempted to pacify me but I was too angry to listen. I was still in shock over the entire move. I could have cried right there right then and there about what I would have to adapt to.

Leaving to go upstairs, I turned to see my parents’ stunned faces. Stepping inside my room I was annoyed to discover my brothers had moved their fight into it.

“Get off of there moron, I get the bed!”

“That isn’t fair!” Tommy squealed as Robert put him in a headlock.

I interrupted, saying "stop it, you two, all you ever do is fight! Your both acting like total Idiots!"

All my brothers ever did was fight. Wanting to get the day over with I sighed and told my brothers to shut it and go to bed. My brothers arguing turned to silence and they soon left the room. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed, because the next day school was starting. Great, another thing to worry about. School, where everyone already knew each other and I would be the awkward new kid. Being fifteen, I was about to enter the 10th grade. I was going to the same school as Robert, who, being seventeen, was entering his senior year. Tommy, being twelve, was enrolled in the local middle school. I heard a knock on my door.

"Trey?" I heard my mom's voice say.

"Come in," I replied.

The door creaked open and she came inside. "Trey, I need to have a talk with you and your brothers. Have you seen them around?"

"Uh... I haven't seen them" I said. "Want me to go find them?"

"The would be great, Trey. Come back in here when you do."

I got up and left to go find my brothers. I searched for about five minutes until I found them in the kitchen, snacking on some crackers. I told them to come upstairs.

When we arrived upstairs, my mom started to talk. "We need to have a little talk. Listen, I know how hard our situation must be for you. You have to move form a fancy apartment to the slums of Brooklyn. You have to go to a new school with people the you have never met before. You are feeling confused, hurt, and angry. But all of the fighting that you have been doing isn't helping you or the family, and I know that your father and I are guilty of that also. But the fighting that we are all guilty of has done nothing for us, and if we want to get through this we have to stick together. Got it?"

We were silent for a while. Finally, we each gave her a slight nod and she left the room.

After another long silence, I decided that I should apologize for yelling at them earlier.

"Hey, I'm sorry for yelling at you guys. But she's right, we do have to stick together. You can' t keep on fighting."

"I guess your right," said Tommy. "Hey Rob, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, okay. Me too, I guess," said Robert. "Lets get to bed."

I finished getting ready for bed, as did my brothers. I got under the covers of my bed, took a deep breath, and fell into a deep sleep.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of something downstairs. It smelled like something was burning, and suddenly I heard a yelp. I frantically rushed down the stairs to see what was the matter, only to find my mom trying to make toast. She was sucking her finger, and I saw some pieces of black toast lying on the ground.

"What happened in here?" I asked.

"Well, I was trying to cook you boys breakfast for your first day of school, but the toast burnt, and then when I touched it my hand burnt, and then --" my mom stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong now?" I screeched. And then I saw it. A giant gray rat was staring right up at us, it's pink tail was twitching. "Don't move," I said out of the corner of my mouth. I could hear my mother starting to hyperventilate. Rats weren't her thing, to say the least. I started to edge slowly from the room to fetch my dad, and left my mom standing there, frozen on the spot. I found him in his room, getting dressed, because he had to go out and find a job today.

"Dad, come quickly to the kitchen. I left mom standing there with a giant rat, and I think any minute now she'll flip," I said hurriedly.

He nodded, and we rushed downstairs. "Do we have a broom or something of the sort?" he asked.

"I haven't seen one. Let me check around." I sprinted through the house searching for anything that he could catch the rat with, but to no avail. I was becoming worried, when suddenly I heard my mom scream. She must have come out of her trance, and I ran to the kitchen only to see her attacking the rat with a spatula. She was going crazy, her anger overpowering her fear of anything small and grey.

"You. Stupid. Rat. Get. Out. Of. HERE!" with each swish of the spatula she would scream at the rat. There was a loud thump, and I saw the rat fall to the ground, apparently dead. I stared at my mom for a few seconds, and saw my dad doing exactly the same thing. We didn't know she had it in her.

"Well, honey, you sure are tougher than I thought," my dad said to my mom, scratching the back of his head.

"Shut up and get dressed," said my mom to my dad, a smile lingering on her face. It looked to me as if they were flirting, as though they were just beginning a relationship. However, it was not an experience that I wanted to witness, so I went upstairs to get ready for school. I saw that Robert had already showered and was getting dressed, and I heard the shower running, so I figured Tommy was in there. I decided against showering, and went to find some clothes to wear. I looked directly over my collared shirts and khakis, and put on a t-shirt and basketball shorts. I wasn't about to wear prep school clothes to a school in the slums of Brooklyn.

20 minutes later my brothers and I were dressed and ready for school. My mom didn't want Tommy walking alone, so Robert and I walked him to his school. I got there and suddenly felt very protective of Tommy. There was a barbed wire fence surrounding a building that looked as though it could be knocked over by the slightest breeze, and the kids inside of it didn't look pleasant. I saw a group of them shoving a frail looking boy around, while others still were sitting on a bent up picnic table laughing at a picture of -- oh, please don't let Tommy see that. I didn't want to leave him to deal with all of these people, so I told Robert that he could head on the high school while I walked Tommy inside. Tommy would usually have protested, but after noticing how tough the crowd outside looked he let me walk him through. I cautiously opened the gate and walked down the dirt path towards the door. I could see everyone's eyes following us with every step we took. I was relieved once we got inside the building. I saw that it was bustling with the rush of the first day of school.

"Tommy, do you think you can make it from here?" I asked.

"What do you think I am, a baby?" He said, apparently trying to impress the bunches of ruffians surrounding him.

"Woah, dude. Okay then, see you later," I replied, doing my best not to crack a smile at his trying to sound tough. I walked out of the building and through the fence, the same lingering stares coming toward me. I pretended to ignore them, and started to walk toward the high school.

As I walked, I certain building caught my eye. There was something about this building that was different than those around it. An array of flowers was surrounding it. They looked well tended and alive, and seemed to give off a ray of hope in this dark neighborhood. I had a sudden urge to know who had planted them, which tenant had taken the time to produce this garden. I promised myself that sometime I would find out. I continued on my walk, and soon arrived at the high school. A similar arrangement of hooigans as that of Tommy's school occupied these grounds. But then I though to myself, I am now one of them. If they are hooligans, then so am I. Why was it so was hard to grasp that idea?

I couldn't spot Robert anywhere. I assumed that he had gone inside. As I made my way through the lot, and I could feel myself tensing up with nerves. I wasn't going to be accepted here. I would be thought of as "that snobby white boy from Manhattan." I took one last look around to see the eyes of everyone going through me like laser beams, and then I started to feel faint, and suddenly everything went black.

Someone was breathing directly on my face, and I heard voices surrounding me. My eyes fluttered open and my sight was hazy for a second before it became clear. I saw the face of a woman above me, and she had a look of relief.

"He's awake! Can you hear me?" asked the woman.

"Wha-- yeah," I said.

"Phew. I was starting to get worried," she said.

"Uh... where am I?" I asked.

"You're in the nurses office. You fainted out on the pavement outside. You have a pretty bad bump on your head. I put some ice on it to make the swelling go down, but you shouldn't do any strenuous activity for the next few days," she continued to ramble, but my attention was turned to the other person in the room. It was Robert. He gave me a smile when I looked over at him. The nurse finished rambling, and Robert started to talk.

"Pretty harsh fall you had out there. Whats up with that?" He said.

I didn't respond, because I was trying to remebered what had happened. And then it came back to me, the stares of everyone around me, the fear of not fitting in. I didn't say this to Robert though, while the nurse was still around. I just said "Oh, I dunno. I guess I better be getting back to class." I started to get up, but my head started to spin.

"Why don't you stay here for a while?" said the nurse. "You don't want to have another fall."

"Um, ok," I said. "Rob, why don't you go back to class?"

Robert nodded and left the room. The nurse wouldn't let me lay down because she said that it would be bad for my head, so I sat in one of the hard plastic chairs. The nurse told me not to move, then started working on some paperwork. I sat there for about an hour, all the time thinking about finally having to face everyone after having fallen flat on my face in front of them. Now instead of plain old "snobby white boy from Manhattan" I would be thought of as "weak, snobby white boy from Manhattan." The nurse came out of her office and told me that I was okay to go to class now. When I got up, my head didn't spin as much as it did before. I headed towards the main office.

When I arrived, I saw a lady sitting at a desk. I told her about my situation, and asked what class I was supposed to be in. She handed me a schedule, and I left to go to the class that I was due in, which was math. As I did, I saw some guys hanging out in the hallways, apparently skipping class. My eyes widened saw that one of them was the guy who I had run away from at the convenience store, and picked my pace up before he could recognize me. I arrived in math, and the teacher gave me an accusing stare. I told her about my situation, and she told me to take a seat. I sat behind a pretty girl with long brown hair. She looked back and whispered to me, “I saw you fall, and it wasn’t as bad as you probably thought it was. I’m Trista, by the way.” She smiled. She had a nice smile.  “Quiet, you two,” said the teacher. We didn’t talk for the rest of the class.  After class was over, the moment that I had been dreading was upon me: Lunch. I had better get used to the idea of sitting in a bathroom stall. But, before I could head for the bathroom, Trista came and started to talk to me again.  “I didn’t catch your name,” she said.  “Oh, Trey. My name is Trey,” I smiled.  “Cool. You must be new here. Where did you come from?” she asked.  “Man—“ I stopped. I wasn’t about to tell her that I was from Manhattan. “Nowhere,” I said instead.  “Cool. Well, I’ve lived here my whole life. All these tough guys you see, I grew up with ‘em. And I’ll tell you, they aren’t as tough as they look,” she said  <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said, seeing some guys push someone against the wall. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“You have to look beyond the appearance, and, yes, they do push each other around. But it’s kind of like their way of being friendly, if that makes any sense,” she said. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">We continued to talk through lunch, and I liked her more and more by the minute. I spotted Robert sitting with a couple of guys, and he looked like he was having a fun time. He was always god at making friends, whether they were preps or hooligans. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">The rest of the day went by smoothly. I was in three classes with Trista, math, science, and history. She was my lab partner in science. By the end of the day, I was feeling pretty good about this new school. I hadn’t been beaten up yet, plus I had made a new friend. Trista waved goodbye and said we should hang out sometime. I told her that would be great, and met Robert by the gate at the front of the schoolyard. We went to pick up Tommy. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">We arrived at Tommy’s school, and when he saw us he waved goodbye to someone. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“Looks like you made a new friend,” I said.

<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“Yeah, that’s Alex. He’s pretty cool,” Tommy replied coolly. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">On the way home, the three of us shared our stories about the events of the day. We had all become friendly with some of kids at our school. We arrived at the house, and stepping inside I noticed that it was much cleaner than it had been when I had left that morning. I saw my mom sitting down in a chair, and she looked worn out. When she saw us, she hopped up. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“Hey boys! How was school?” she asked. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">Tommy and Robert responded with a “fine” and I told her about my fainting incident. When I did, she looked worried, but I assured her that I had put ice on it and that I would be okay. I then asked if she had spent the day cleaning the house, because it looked nice. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“Yes, I did. I figured that if we live here we might as well make it the best that we can. Your father has been away job hunting, and he called earlier to say that he thinks that he secured a job as the manager of a market a couple miles down the road.” <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“Really? That’s great!” I said excitedly, <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“You know, we don’t have all of the fancy things that we used to have, but I kind of feel more like a family now,” said Tommy. I felt the same way. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">“You’re right Tommy,” said my mom. “That’s quite insightful of you.” <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">As my mom and Tommy continued to talk, I headed upstairs to my room. I started to think about my situation, but it was no longer in a negative light. Yes, I had gone from the top of the world to where I am now in a short period of time, but I realized that this new life wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning. <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Baskerville Old Face","serif";">