Just Another Adventure Story

  private school Here I am, standing in the hallways in Saint Benz Private School,hopelessly getting yelled at by Mr. Lyndall, our school Headmaster, for achieving the highest  level prank Cal and I have ever pulled throughout our High School careers. We completely  destroyed Mr. Sinor, who is now standing in front of us completely covered in slime.

Earlier that week

       “Cal! Cal! Cal! Come here quick?!” as I peered around the corner making sure the coast is clear.

       “Yo, what’s up?” He asked as he slid into the corner next to where I was standing.

       “I just had the best idea for a prank on Mr. Sinor,” turning to look at him, crouching to gaze around the corner. “Imagine him opening his lab door and a bucket of goo landing on his head, but this time the goo can have some sort of stench tied in with it. You get what I’m saying?”

       “Ha, I can just see a bunch of green slime just dripping off of his patch of fake hair!” he says trying not to laugh at the image in his head. “Oh, can we also add some of them spider fireworks of yours? Cause that oldie is going down!”

       “Let’s try not to get expelled.”

       “It’s our senior year.” “What could they really do to us? I mean really?”

       “That’s true man.” meet me at my place after school so we can construct this gooey mess!”

       “Sure bud,” Cal says with no fear in his voice.

That afternoon

       “VOGOR TURN THAT MUSIC OFF! THAT AWFUL MUSIC SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO BE CIRCUITED IN TODAYS SOCIETY!”

        “ITS JUST JACK PARROW MA!” knock… “I will get it!” shutting off my music and rushing to the door.

       “What’s good man!” Cal says as he walks through the door.

       “It’s all good bud! Ha, are you ready to do this?” as the door slams shut behind me.

       “Ha?” he turns to look at me in an extremely confused look. “Oh yeah! That,” as he turns to expose an  evil grin. (You know, the one that shows what he had just eaten)

       It all seems like a witches brewing chamber, with the bunsen burner on full blasé underneath the cauldron, the mixture of weird materials made things even worse.

       Here is what went in:

Ingredients list:

·         Tomato

·         Egg- goose if possible

·         Vinegar

·         Corn starch

·         Water

I am so glad we did this outside, the mixture ended up being repulsive, and when i say repulsive i mean extremely disgusting. It was like having a rotten egg boiled with a corroded piece of pork. It was enough to make even the strongest of stomachs churn to the smell.

       “Alright, alright. I think we are done,” Cal whispers as if to try prevent the scent entering his mouth and tingling his taste buds.

The next day

       The walk to school was terrible as we were trying not to break the Zippo bag seal, we didn’t even eat before we left. I feel horrible yet excited for this gutful prank. I can just see Mr. Sinor’s face as he opens the door to this plastic bag, full of a disgusting smell, hitting him square in the abdomen.

       “You know the saying?” I say as I place the Zippo bag into a brown paper bag.

       “Which one?” Cal asks in confusion.

       “The one about revenge,” I proclaim. “Revenge is best served cold, but instead of the word cold. We should replace it with something like, um…”

       “Revenge is best served with a can of Febreze,” he stated with a crackle in his voice.

       “Ha Ha, that works for me,” I say trying not to laugh and or squeeze the bag and break the seal.

       “Okay, so first things first, we have to set this up without Mr. Sinor and anyone else seeing us,” Cal whispers.

       Our sneaky and rather hilarious spy acts could have been seen from the end of the hallway, yet we still managed to get away with it. We got our lead line set up and it was all a go, until the moment when Mr. Lyndall walked passed us on our way  from the crime scene. I closed my eyes and hoped that he didn’t have a meeting with Mr. Sinor planned for this morning.

        I turn around to look, and he was walking straight into the path of fire, my stomach sank and I am sure that if you took a CAT scan of my body at this moment you would be able to see my heart in my throat.

       “Mr. Lyndall!” Cal shouts, “Mr. Lyndall! I have a question for you!”

       Mr. Lyndall turns away from the door handle and starts walking our way. My pulse went from high back down to low and I’m sure I looked like the ghost of Christmas past at that moment.

       “You okay Son? Vogor? Are you okay?” Mr. Lyndall asks worryingly.

       “Wha. Yes Sir, I am fine, I just remembered that I had left my Math Workbook at home,” I say as the colour begins to return to my face.

       “Ah, now tha…” he stops due to a horrid scream by none other than Mr. Sinor. He had just walked into his classroom and the bag had whacked him right on the back of the head. I could smell the stench from where I was stood at the other end of the hallway. Once I regained consciousness,all I could remember were the horrified screams and over powering stench. Mr.Lyndall was covered in projectile vomit and shouting at Cal.

       “Who did that Cal?!” he shouts.

       “I… I… I don’t know Sir,” Cal whispers. He had lost all confidence in the day. His voice was shaking like a pressure jack. I’m sure that if you could have looked him straight in the eyes and said boo, that he would have fainted.

       “Oh, look. Maybe Mr. Patrick can help me out. He seems to have answered it already if you take a look at me!” He shouts as he turns from Cal and then to me.

       So here I stand, Mr. Lyndall in front of me, Cal to my right. There are a “hundred and one excuses” flowing through my head and the one that came out was.

       “Well Sir it was…

     

The Fix by Jennifer Ai

innocent_baby_boy_sleeping_wallpaper-normal

“Elise,” he softly whispered as he held the newborn in his arms for the first time. She was wrapped in white blankets with only her arms sticking out.  Her head was covered with a stocking hat which with earflaps which could reach her chin. She reached out in attempt to grab her father’s nose. Her tiny little fingers could barely grasp onto it and instead lingered down to his lips. Her father supported her arm and lightly kissed her fingertips and then her forehead.

“Let me look at her,” a weak voice spoke from the hospital bed. She laid with her eyes barely open and lips slightly apart. The father bent down and brought baby Elise close to show her.

“She’s beautiful,” the mother said as she weakly smiled.

“Honey you’re tired, go to sleep. The nurse wants to take Elise for some testing but it’s just protocol. When you wake up, we’ll both be right here,” the husband said as he looked down at his baby girl, “I promise.” Reassured, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep.  He turned around to find the nurse waiting. Carefully, he led with his elbow and transferred the infant into the nurse’s arms.

“Thank you Mr. Daniels, I’ll bring her right back,” she said and headed for the door.

Not long after, Mr. Daniels heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he answered. The doctor opened the door and stepped in followed by the nurse with baby Elise. The nurse closed the door behind her and shut out the unwanted scent of medicine and illness.

The doctor extended his hand and greeted, “Nice to see you again.”

Mr. Daniels replied, “Please call me Frank.”

The doctor nodded and began flipping through the papers attached to the clipboard he held. “Elise is a little underweight,” the doctor started. “Typically the average weight is about 7 pounds whereas she weighs 5.1 pounds. But not to worry Frank, she’ll be just fine.”

“Maybe it runs in the family,” Frank said as he ran his hand down the side of his face. He had a slender long face with high cheekbones that popped out. He was what you would describe as all skin and bones.

“Do you drink Frank?” the doctor asked.

“Pardon?” he answered, confused.

“Do you drink alcohol? You know,” the doctor gestured, pretending to hold a bottle and chugging it.

“No,” Frank sternly answered.

“Does your wife?”

“She said she would stop…”

Two Years Later

Mr. and Mrs. Daniels sat patiently in the doctor’s office. Their little girl was crawling on the ground tugging at her father’s loose dress pants from the side. He ignored her and continued to anxiously tap his index finger on the doctor’s solid wooden desk in front of him. Looking at her nervous husband, Nicole grasped his left hand and gave it a light squeeze.

The doorknob turned and the Daniels immediately looked behind them. The doctor weakly smiled back and dimmed the lights in the room.  However, the family was too concentrated on the oversized envelope he held in his hands. As the doctor paced towards his illuminated board, he opened the envelope and pulled out the MRI scan. He clipped it to the illuminated board and took a deep breath. “There were some abnormalities in Elise’s MRI scan. Her frontal lobe is significantly less developed than the average 2 year old,” the doctor explained while pointing to the image.

“What does that mean?” Nicole asked.

“Generally it will affect one’s ability to reason, problem solve and speak.”

“Do you know what caused this?”

The doctor sat down across from the Daniels and pulled out the remaining of the papers from the envelope. He adjusted his glasses and began flipping through the papers. “From the psychiatrist’s analysis and the MRI scans, we suspect Elise may be suffering from fetal alcohol spectrum disorder. The only cause for such a disorder is if the mother was exposed to alcohol during her pregnancy,” the doctor paused. “Were you drinking Mrs. Daniels while you were pregnant with Elise?”

Nicole froze.

***

The family of three drove home in silence. Frank parked the car in the apartment parking lot and unbuckled Elise out of the carriage in the backseat. He snatched her and walked directly to the apartment building leaving Nicole trailing behind.

Frank stormed down the hallway to apartment three-eleven. He unlocked the door with his free hand and left the keys dangling then kicked the door half-shut behind him. Elise was fast asleep on her father’s shoulder. Frank gently settled her down on the couch with his hands supporting the back of her head. He covered her in the blankets that were hanging on the arm of the couch.

The door creaked behind him as Nicole had just stepped into the apartment. He turned around and whispered, “Shhh, she’s sleeping.”

“Sorry,” Nicole answered, keeping her head down. She turned around, pulled the keys out of the door and slowly closed it. “I’m really sorry,” she continued, her eyes turning red.

Frank sighed, “Sorry doesn’t change anything.” His voice was full of disappointment.

Nicole limped over and threw herself down across from Frank. She planted her face in her palms with her elbows propped on her knees. “It only happened a few times. I was celebrating, I didn’t want this to happen,” she sobbed.

Frank walked over and sat down beside her. He lightly patted her back and reached over to put his arm around her shoulder. Halfway, he retracted his arm and brought it back to his lap. He clenched his hands together and stated, “You promised.”

Nicole tilted her head and looked at Frank with sorrow filled eyes, but kept quiet. Frank placed his hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze. He smiled faintly and brought her shoulder to rest on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this together,” he assured her with a blank stare.

***

At nearly three a.m., there was a loud banging at the apartment door. “Open up,” a woman slurred as she continued banging at the door. Frank woke up from the noise outside his apartment. He forced himself out of bed and headed to the front door. Looking out the peek hole he realized it was Nicole. He quickly unlocked the door and opened it. As the door opened, Nicole clumsily fell onto Frank. Frank looked at her in disgust. Nicole’s hair was a mess, her clothes were dirty, and she reeked of alcohol.

Frank moved the limp body across the room and laid her on the couch.  “Hey honey, did you miss me?” Nicole laughed while reaching out to Frank’s face.

“You’re drunk, go to sleep,” Frank replied sternly. He removed her hands from his cheeks and put them down at her sides. Not taking no for an answer, the drunken woman sat up and placed both arms around her husband.

“Not until you tell me you missed me,” she grinned.

Frank sighed, “I missed you, happy? Now go to sleep.” It’s been a while since Frank has seen Nicole like this. When they were both young and carefree, Nicole would go out drinking a lot and come home wasted. He was okay with the idea of the girl liking to party and drink, but it went beyond being a simple ‘social thing’ as she described it. She had a drinking problem.

“I’ll be happier after you drink with me!” Nicole reached into her back pocket and pulled out a silver pocket hip flask. “I saved you some of the good stuff,” she toned down her volume into a loud whisper. “Don’t tell anyone,” she continued as she reached out and grabbed Frank’s lips to seal them shut. She began to twist open the cap and brought the bottle up to Frank’s mouth. Seeing as he wouldn’t budge, she forced the bottle on his lips. Frank leaned back and lightly pushed her arm away. “Fine, suit yourself. More for me then.” Nicole leaned back and began to chug the liquor inside the flask.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Frank angrily grabbed the bottle out of her hand and flung it aside. The bottle hit the ground and liquor slowly began to bleed out. Instinctively, she jumped over and took the liquor bottle in an attempt to save the last few drops. “Stop it!” he yelled.

“And let all that good liquor go to waste?” she laughed, scanning around the room for the bottle. Her stance was unsteady.

Frank grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her, “You promised you’d stop drinking years ago. Do you remember?”

“Promises are meant to be broken, love.” She had a smug look on her face.

“How long ago did you break this promise then? One year? Maybe two?”

Nicole stopped for a second to think, “I can’t remember.” Her voice was filled with innocence.

“Three years ago then? When you pregnant with Elise.” Nicole stayed silent but let out a small smirk. “So you admit to drinking while pregnant with Elise then?” his voice rose.

“Every night I said I was going out with friends,” she laughed. “And you were foolish enough to believe me.” Her loud laugh echoed through the small apartment.

Frank clenched his jaw. “Why would you risk our child’s health like that? Because of your damn habit, Elise is going to suffer for the rest of her life! Is that what you wanted?”

Frank was shaking in frustration.

“She didn’t have a bright future ahead of her anyways,” she snickered. “Look at this crummy little dump we live in, where would we get the money to give her a bright future?”

“This dump is our home!” snapped Frank.

“Yeah? Well I wish it wasn’t.”

Frank stopped shaking, and put on a blank face.

“Then leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not the Nicole I first met and fell in love with,” he spoke softly. Nicole froze in her place. Her drunkenness seemed to disappear instantly.

There was a jingling noise from the corridor which connected the living room to the bedrooms. Frank turned around and realized that Elise was on the ground playing with the liquor bottle. She put it close to her mouth and started suckling on the opening. Franked rushed over as soon as he noticed and pulled the bottle out of her mouth. “No,” he told her shaking his head.

“She’s the reason isn’t she!” Nicole screamed. “She’s the reason you’re leaving me isn’t she?” Baby Elise was frightened by the piercing scream and began crying.

Frank picked up her daughter and covered her ears. “You’re helpless…” he said as he began walking away while caressing the baby’s back to stop her tears.

Seeing her husband walk away, she dug her face into the arm of the couch. The fabric material soon became damp with her tears. But not long after, she sat up, wiped her tears and took one last sniffle. Her breath was unsteady as she spun around the room as if she was in search for something. With dilated pupils and fists clenched, she mumbled, “I can fix this.”

***

Frank woke up the next morning with Elise by his side, soundly asleep. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, “good morning.” The infant stretched out her limbs and went back to her fetal position. Frank snuck out of bed and headed to the living room. A sizzling sound grew louder as he approached the living room. He tensed his eyebrows at the confusion.
Nicole was in the kitchen cooking. Her hair was pinned back and even had an apron on. “What are you doing?” Frank asked sternly.

Nicole giggled with her voice as cheerful as ever, “What does it look like I’m doing silly? Making breakfast of course!” She used the spatula and served scrambled eggs onto a plastic pink plate.
Frank reached over and tried pick a piece of egg off the pink plate. He retreated his hand after being tapped by a hot spatula. “That one’s special, it’s for your baby.”

“Oh, okay,” Frank said as he took a seat at the table. He watched as Nicole added oil to the pan and stirred in the beaten eggs to make his portion. She made two plates, each served with a side of toast and breakfast sausages. She grabbed two sets of utensils and brought them to the table.

“Here,” she smiled, brightly placing the plate onto the table.

“Thank you.” Only a few bites into his meal, Frank heard crying from the bedroom. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

Elise had just woken up. Frank brought her into his arms and carried her to the washroom to get washed up. Not long after, they were back at the table. Nicole had already pulled out a plastic spoon and placed it on the table along with Elise’s special scrambled eggs. “Are you hungry?” Nicole asked, smiling at Elise, who was in Frank’s arms.

The baby shook her head. Frank sat down with Elise in his laps. “But you should still eat. I made these for you,” Nicole said, forcing a wide smile with her eyes propped open. She sat down and filled the spoon with eggs and placed it to Elise’s mouth. “Open wide now.” Elise wouldn’t budge and turned her face the other way.  Nicole tried again. She pressed the spoon against Elise’s mouth more forcefully this time.

“I don’t think she’s hungry. Here, I’ll eat it for her,” Frank suggested reaching out for the spoon.

“No!” Nicole flinched, “She has to eat it.” Nicole grabbed the baby’s cheeks with one hand propping her mouth open and began forcing the eggs down Elise’s throat.

Frank slapped her arms away and stood up. “What are you doing?!” He questioned angrily, “She said she doesn’t want to eat it!”

“Do you know how hard I worked to make these?” She screamed back at him. “Give me the baby!” Nicole demanded as she tried to get up. Halfway, she realized her apron was caught on a nail that stuck out from the leg of the chair she sat on. She grunted as she tried to pull the apron loose from the nail.

With one hard pull, the apron was freed from the nail and flung up. From the pocket flew out a small jar. As the jar hit the ground, a dozen small, white pills scattered on the floor. The jar rolled beneath Frank and he bent down to pick it up. He read the label that was marked on the pill bottle, “Hydrocodone.” And in the small fine print beneath it, “Caution, keep away from children. May result in serious illness or death.”

“What is this?” Frank asked, hold up the pill bottle with his hands shaking.

“Umm…it’s nothing!” said Nicole. Frightened, she tried to grab the bottle out of his hands.

Frank staggered. He looked at the pills, then at the eggs.

“WHAT IS THIS?!”

“They’re painkillers.”

“Why do you have them in your pocket?” Frank continued to interrogate.

Nicole remained silent.

“Is it that painful to care for your own child that you need painkillers? Or did you intend to permanently relieve yourself of this pain by killing your own daughter?” Frank felt his heartbeat quicken and his anger rise, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I thought,” she stumbled. “I thought maybe if she was gone then you wouldn’t leave me. We could start off fresh and…and start a whole new life together without having this burden.”

Frank widened his eyes in disbelief. “You’re crazy!”

“She’s the reason you’re leaving me, isn’t she? Because she’s a burden!”

“It has nothing to do with Elise! It was your fault! You continued to go behind my back and drink! What good has it ever done for you? Your addiction ruined Elise’s life and our marriage!”

“It was me?” Nicole asked softly with lifeless eyes, and found her own answer falling to her knees. “It was me.”

Elise, still in daddy’s arms, was dumbstruck by the seen in front of her. Though too young to understand, she knew to keep quiet. She looked up at the man who held her with those innocent eyes, “How could anyone even think of hurting you?” Frank said softly, looking back at Elise.
Frank started walking away with baby Elise in his arms. “I’ll come back to get my stuff another day. For now, you can live here. I’ll have a lawyer send over the papers soon.”

And once again, Nicole was left alone. At least this crummy dump didn’t seem so little anymore.

“I tried to fix this.”

Changing Our Lives – An Interactive Essay

technologyThe twenty-first century, era of technology. Technology has been changing and evolving for thousands of years, but never at the pace it is now. Now, we have realized that nothing is impossible if we put our minds to it, so we invest more time, more money, more effort into developing more. We must admit that our lifestyles are also changing along with technology, in ways both good and bad.

Here is an interactive essay about how the changing technology is changing our lives: Changing Our Lives – Interactive Essay by Nowmy

A Friendship Scored In Overtime

TEL_p101_vintage_outdoor_hockeyIt all started on an early Saturday morning during late August in a small northern town called Elliot Lake, just before the new school year. The house next to Hectors that had sat abandoned for months had finally been purchased by a new family that was just moving in. Hectors parents travelled a lot for work and vacations, he had been longing for a new friend to move in next door.
As he sat in front of the big bay window at the front of the house that overlooked the newly occupied home, he watched the movers unload their belongings. First came a large dresser, followed by a desk, beds, couches, and what seemed like an endless stream of suitcases and small boxes. But no toys or sports equipment meant for a young teen like Hector. Hectors hopes of a new friend began to dwindle as more and more belongings were unpacked, until suddenly, one of the movers lugged out a huge hockey bag. Hector new by the face of the mover that the foul odour of sweat and rotting equipment meant one thing, there was not just a new kid moving in, he played hockey. His excitement became overjoyed on the fact that of all sports it was hockey, Hectors favourite sport was hockey. He was practically a legend back at school, top scorer, numerous MVP awards, and team captain.
Hector took no time at all bursting through the garage door to grab his brand new hockey stick and run over to the new family’s home. All of his excitement he had to show off his new stick was lost immediately after he was greeted at the end of the driveway by the father. In front of him stood a giant of a man, “must be 7 feet tall!” Hector thought to himself. The man looked very intimidating, with tattooed sleeves down both arms, ear piercings, not to mention the monstrous black beard that consumed his face.
“Is there something you want kid?” asked the man in an aggressive tone.
“I live next door” Mumbled Hector as he stared at the ground, “I wanted the new boy my stick, its brand new!”
The man’s expression didn’t change, he simply nodded and from the pit of his stomach he yelled “Jaison! Come here!”. Almost immediately emerged the boy from the garage, dressed in sporting attire from a club. The father left the two boys as Jaison walked over. With nothing more than a huge grin on his face, Hector thrust is stick forward in an attempt to impress Jaison.
“Oh…that’s a nice stick” stated Jaison, “I used a few of those last year but I got the newer version this year, it’s much better you know.” Hector seemed taken back by this; he always had the newest stuff. He quickly began inquiring about what team Jaison played for.
“I play on the school hockey team; I make it every year without even really trying. You play just for fun or something right?” asked Hector.
“No, I play for team Canada, I was just voted captain last week” replied Jaison who seemed to be unimpressed by Hectors attitude. Astonished Hector stood speechless. He had tried out for that team for the last 3 years and never made it.

The next day Hector sat at home alone entering the events from the day before into his journal; he shared the news of their new neighbours when he had talked to his parents on the phone when they called to see how he was doing. They seemed delighted that there was a new boy, and Hector would have some friendly competition.
Tuesday August 28, 2012
I always wanted a new kid to move in next door, now I wish it never happened. He has the best equipment out there and he plays for the best team out there. My dad seems to think it will be good to have somebody to compete against. I think that’s a joke, what if everyone at school thinks he is better, I don’t want someone better than me on the team. Maybe he’s not as good as it sounds; I bet he’s on the team as a mascot or something. Yeah! That’s what it is, he doesn’t even play, he’s a mascot. I doubt he’ll even show up to tryouts at school. With school in 2 days there is no way he will be ready to tryout by then.

Hector spent the rest of his summer holiday in the driveway practicing, training and working out. He was committed to make sure that Jaison could not beat him at anything in anyway; Hector was going to be the best in everyone’s eyes.

At last,the first day of school had come and so was the day of tryouts.Throughout the first day back to school, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Everyone was excited as usual to watch Hector hit the ice. However in his mind, all he could think of was beating Jaison at tryouts and being the best, his father wouldn’t expect anything less.
Although Hector and Jaison lived on the same street, Hector made sure to avoid him and walked alone to the rink for tryouts, “I’m not going to let some new kid walk in here and beat me, I could be on Team Canada if I wanted to be” he muttered under his breath. By the time Hector stormed into the hockey rink, his envious thoughts continued, so much so that while he was getting ready at a breakneck speed he was putting his skates on so tight he was losing circulation to his feet. “I hate these skates!” exclaimed Hector as he realised what had done. He and secluded himself to the far corner of the room alone to get ready, nothing was going take his mind of his goal.
Meanwhile on the other side of the change room was Jaison who seemed much more upbeat. He was socializing with the other players while he taped the blade of his stick. Jaison eagerly asked, “Hey did you guys watch the hockey game on T.V last night!?”. The room immediately erupted into conversation as kids began to comment on it and the amazing win by the home team.
“It’s amazing” thought Hector, “he’s not even fazed by the pressure of this tryout…”. Jaison always took these event serious and he was very laid back and relaxed. He noticed some other new players who appeared nervous. In a calm voice Jaison revealed that he was new as well and simply explained “…stressing about making the team or not isn’t worth it, having fun out there is the best choice. You win by having out there, and you win again if you make it. It’s a win win!”. Jaison easy going ways and optimistic tone put the new guys at easy.

As the conversations in the dressing room continued, Coach Tim entered and announced it was time to head out to the ice. All of the players including, Hector and Jaison shuffled out of the crowded change room to the ice. The Zamboni was still out laying down a fresh sheet of ice, the player’s heads watched it go around, and round, just like a dog being teased with a toy rope. The coaching staff gathered everyone as they made an announcement about how the tryout was going to work. Coach Tim stood on a chair with the players glued to his every word. He drew everyone’s attention to the far side of the rink where the other entrance was. Across the ice stood another team, dressed and ready to go. The sound of mumbling and small conversations fell over the players. The Coach chuckled under his breath as he noticed the confused look on all of the players.
Coach Tim began to explain, “This isn’t your normal tryout, instead of doing an endless number of drills we are going to play a full on game against another team.”
Every player was given a number when the signed in at the rink, no one knew what they were for and thought nothing of it. “It all made sense now”, Hector thought to himself. Those numbers must be lines. He began asking his friends and other players what number they were; he was only able to find one player that was on his line. Hector was positive that he had asked everyone there, until it dawned on him. He hadn’t asked Jaison! Of all the people, Jaison was on his line, this was a disaster. Jaison seemed happy about the whole situation; he figured that they would work together.
Without much warm-up, the refs were on the ice and the puck was dropped. Although not official teams yet, the two were evenly matched and had been playing very well. Despite Hector initial worries about Jaison and being on the same line, it had been going well for him. The two boys were getting an even amount of ice time and Hector at times was even out playing the “elite” Jaison.

As the skirmish continued Hector and Jaison’s shift was fast approaching. Jaison had always been a motivator and a play maker on the ice; he decided it would be a good idea to strategize before they left the bench.
Jaison began to explain his idea to Hector, “Hey Hector, see how they always leave that far side open when we break out of our end? If you get the puck on that side I’ll break out early and hit me with a pass.”
“Are you kidding me?” snapped Hector, “You think I’m going to let you sit up on the blue line while I do all of the work to set YOU up!?”

Taken back by unprovoked verbal attack, Jaison replied.“I don’t know what you’re talking about, can’t you see? That side is wide op….”

“No no no, I don’t think so” interrupted Hector, “Just because you played for Canada doesn’t mean that you’re going to get all the credit for everything!”

“Is that what this is about?” questioned Jaison. He calmly explained, “that side of this ice is your responsibility. I’m not trying to take anything away from you; I’m trying to help us both out”.

The pair had not realized, but the time on the play clock was getting closer and closer to the final buzzer, with the score still tied at 0-0 it was anybodies game. All Jaison was doing, was being a true teammate and trying to be constructive. But before Jaison and Hectors conversation could continue the teammates on the ice came screaming towards the bench, their shift was over. The exhausted players fumbled through the bench door as Hector, Jaison and the rest of the new line hoped over the boards. Both teams were giving it their all to impress the coaches of their team. During one of the other teams rushes, a defenseman on Hectors team stumbled and fell giving the other team a clear shot to the net. With just under 2 minutes remaining in the game no one could afford to let a mistake like that go. Panicking, Hector froze, he watched in horror as the opposing team rocketed toward his net. Suddenly, out of nowhere came Jaison hot on the attacker’s tale. With a swift swing of his stick he knocked the puck free right to Hectors feet. Startled by the sudden turn of events, Hector clumsily took off with it.
Jaison, on the far side was screaming, “HEY! RIGHT HERE I’M OPEN!” as the play that was currently developing was the exact one that he had tried to point out to Hector on the bench. Hector continued on, ignoring Jaison. In his mind he decided there was no way he was going to pass to Jaison, he was going to be there hero and keep his prestigious reputation at school. In the background he could hear the people in the stands counting down from the clock, “10…9…8…”.
All that stood between Hector and the net was a single defenseman, with Jaison wide open on the far side Hector went for it by himself in the dying seconds of the game. With perfect execution, the opposing defenseman dove forward jarring the puck from Hectors position. Almost simultaneously the buzzer went, echoing through the arena. The game had ended and despite being a tryout the coaches wanted a win, it was going into overtime.
The team collected their thoughts during a brief intermission before the start of overtime. Hector didn’t think much of it; the rest of players on the other hand though had a problem.
One of the newer players piped up, “Hector! Why didn’t you pass to Jaison, he was wide open. We could have won the game by now!” The other players murmured among each other agreeing with the statement. Jaison stood quietly at the back of the group as the conversation about Hectors selfish act continued.
Hector stood dumbfounded; he didn’t understand how all of the players who looked up to him were against him. A whirlwind of thoughts went through him, “How could this be!?” he thought. Suddenly as the ref blew the whistle signalling the players to take their positions, Hector came to a realization. It was one of those life lessons your parents teach about when you’re a little kid, it was about sharing and being a friend. He knew that this wasn’t a war between Jaison and himself anymore, it was competition. The game continued on with Hectors knew thoughts off Jaison. The other team was getting close to a goal, hitting the post and crossbar 3 times. Hector and Jaison sat on the bench anxiously awaiting their shift. When at last it was their turn they were on the ice with a mission, to win the game together. It was a tense moment as there was a battle for the puck in the corner of Hector and Jaison’s net. Hector sat with his hips against the boards waiting for the puck, at last his defenseman freed the puck and hit him with a perfect pass, tape to tape. Like bull at rodeo launching out of the gate, Hector was on the move. It was like déjà vu,, in front of him stood the same player between him and the net. The two players grew closer and closer to the net opposing net just as the defenseman made a move on Hector. Immediately Hector passed the puck to Jaison who was wide open with a clear shot to the net. Without hesitation, Jaison one timed it ringing it off the crossbar and in. The team erupted into a cheer and came rushing out onto the ice.
Hector stood back awaiting the team to congratulate Jaison; however to his surprise everyone pulled the two of them together to congratulate both. Jaison and Hector were the heroes of the game! All of this time Hector had spent worrying was all for nothing, he had learned that you can’t be the best without a team and Jaison was a part of that team.
The boys all celebrated in the change room while they waited for their name to be called. Despite the flawless effort by everyone, cuts had to be made. Knowing that, Hector wasn’t worried or hoping Jaison wouldn’t make the team. All of those feelings were in the past and he just hoped that they both would make the team and get the chance to play on the same line again. After what felt like an eternity, Hector was called into the separate room and met with a “Congratulations” from Coach Tim. The coach was extremely happy about Hectors performance and specifically how he learned from his mistakes and looked for making the pass, rather than trying to be the hero himself. He quickly thanked the coach and left the room, still trembling from excitement Hector waited up for Jaison. Jaison received the same speech from the coach and was congratulated for his effort. When Jaison left the meeting room, he was greeted by Hector and shared the good news with him, they had both made the team!
At last, the two boys were on the same page, superstar hockey players and adored by the school. All that was for certain on what laid ahead for Hector and Jaison, was a friendship and a season to remember.

Revenge is Justified

Revenge is a notion that an individual feels circumstantially. The idea of revenge is often associated with justice, which brings you to a place where you are equal with those who harmed you; however, the fact that they did wrong you implies that you are more moral, and therefore ‘better’ than they are. Nevertheless, individuals’ interpretation of revenge and the justice that it provides differs substantially when taking into account their knowledge and interpretation of the law and media influence.

The state develops laws and regulations to protect its citizens from harm. The Hammurabi Code is a well-preserved Babylonian law code, dating back to about 1772 BC. It is an early law book built upon the ideas of vengeance, where “eye for an eye” is the legal para-phrase for the laws. The way an individual interprets the Hammurabi Code in regard to revenge allows for a sense of justification. Although the Hammurabi Code is an ancient law-book that is no longer binding, there are modern day countries that follow similar doctrines. This is exemplified through the idea of capital punishment in many States in the USA, such as Texas. The State of Texas believes that if an individual commits the crime of murder, than the punishment will be capital punishment. The State of Texas believes that capital punishment is justified in order to keep its citizens feeling safe and for crimes rates to decrease. Through the doctrines of the Hammurabi Code and the idea of capital punishment, it is evident that if somebody is wronged, there are legal means to ensure that the person wronged will be left better off, than the one who committed the crime. This to some people is justified revenge as it provides a sense of satisfaction that the perpetrator has felt the pain that they have. The methods in which the Hammurabi Code and Texas State laws are interpreted provide victims relief, when the person responsible for the crime “pays his dues”. Furthermore, the idea of revenge is embedded into our minds constantly by the media.

The media is a source that everybody in this country is subjected to whether it is directly or indirectly. The idea of revenge and the sense of satisfaction that it brings are demonstrated through the media’s involvement with the Osama Bin Laden coverage. Osama Bin Laden was the most wanted man by the USA military. The media’s coverage illustrated a picture that was filled with the idea of revenge, which was justified by the USA. For example, following the killing of Bin Laden, the United States president Barack Obama reported to the American people by advising that “… Tonight, I can report to the American people and to the world that the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al-Qaida, and a terrorist who is responsible for the murder of thousands of innocent men, women and children.” This proves that the USA sought revenge and killed Bin Laden and it was justified as the president advised the citizens with a sense of pride. However, the media portrayed this event as if they had won a victory over al-Qaida, which in turn provides satisfaction to the American people and provides justification for the murder.

All in all, this principle of people believing their actions are justified is seen when interpreting the Hammurabi Code, and doctrines of capital punishment. Lastly, media has psychologically taught our minds to think about revenge as a pleasing emotion. This is exactly how President Barak Obama illustrated the murder and assassination of Osama Bin Laden.

WORKS CITED

“Ancient History Sourcebook: Code of Hammurabi, C. 1780 BCE.” Internet History Sourcebooks.N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Nov. 2012. <http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/ancient/hamcode.asp&gt;.

Bowden, Mark. “The Death of Osama Bin Laden: How the US Finally Got Its Man.” The Guardian. Guardian News and Media, 12 Oct. 2012. Web. 07 Nov. 2012.      <http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/oct/12/death-osama-bin-laden-us&gt;.

“Code of Hammurabi.” Code of Hammurabi. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Nov. 2012. <http://www.commonlaw.com/Hammurabi.html&gt;.

“Texas Execution Information – History.” Texas Execution Information – History. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Nov. 2012. <http://www.txexecutions.org/history.asp&gt;.

“Texas Execution Information.” Texas Execution Information. N.p., n.d. Web. 07 Nov. 2012. <http://www.txexecutions.org/&gt;.