Focus is a record of things that happen to me and people around me. Sometimes happy, sometimes sad. Some short, some long. Some significant, some not. Just like life. Each focus is a true story, though I'll probably change names. Each chapter will have three focuses.
As my family and I were in the car driving to the river, the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack blasting out the windows, my little brother suddenly grew silent before asking:
"Do we live in North or South America?"
Funny...I used to wonder the same thing when I was a kid...
On a vacation to Myrtle beach with my grandparents, I severely missed my friends back at home. I got a call from my guyfriend, Aaron, nearly daily, and each day I would give him a rundown of what was going on. I told him about how it was Black Biker Week. I told him about the dead jellyfish on the beach. I even told him about this dead shark in a jar thing that I saw at a bargain store. He gasped.
"Get it for me!"
"The shark! You HAVE to get it for me! I'll pay you back and everything."
"Um..Okay...But you don't have to pay me back, Aaron."
"Good, 'cause I don't have any money."
"That's nice. Um..it's not like, a really big shark or anything."
"I don't care as long as it's dead and floating in a jar!"
Yes, I know, my friends are so lovely. So he calls the next day, and I don't have the shark.
"Promise me you'll get it."
"Don't promise me unless you mean it. If you don't bring it back, can I punch you in the face?"
"Yes, you can punch me in the face."
On the last day before leaving, I go back to the store and pick up his shark. I name him Harold. Aaron doesn't call me that day. On the way back, I sleep in the car. I cuddle up to Harold to cushion him from the dangers of the world. After all, he's a very fragile shark, being in the glass jar and all. Aaron finally calls.
"Guess what I have."
"Your shark! I named him Harold!"
"Yay..heheh...I'm gonna bust him."
I gasp. For now, after paying for Harold, protecting Harold, carrying Harold everywhere I went, and even letting Harold sleep beside me, I had grown somewhat attached to him. Though I said nothing. I just stared down at Harold, thinking of the sad fate that was bound to befall him in the hands of my friend.
Back at home, I don't see Aaron for a week. I played a few tricks on Aaron using Harold, (whom he wanted to name Bella). I pretended to bust Harold. I threatened to take Harold away forever. However, when we finally went to the movies, I knew I had to give Harold up.
It was a sad day. Harold was given an imaginary sex change. Now he is Bella.
I will miss that little shark. But Aaron is now happier than he ever was before. Harold is a swell guy/girl...really swell.
There was once a time when I thought old people were all nice. I trusted them. I always thought all old people were sweet and understanding like my grandparents. However, several recent run-ins with the elderly have changed my mind about them... I have decided to mentally document all of the times that old people have been mean to me, and possibly find the causes.
1- An old person practically knocked me down on a trip to Conneticut.
Possible Causes- Well...I WAS at a casino...I guess she was just in a hurry to the slot machines.
2- An old lady in the mall told me to "MOVE IT!" and then pushed me out of the way.
Possible Causes- Since she was obviously to old for the cause to be childbirth, I really have no idea...
And then there are times when old people just freak me out. Like that dude in the cafe who kept looking me up and down and telling me what a fine young ladyI was. COME ON! I wasn't even dressed like a maid that day!