Change of Heart

 Staring into the darkness, I wondered what had happened. It was awful...

But, I guess I could rewind a little bit before this happened. This is my story after all.

My name's Katherine Lynn Black but most people just call me Katherine. Well, all except for Ian Kane - my best friend who's been with me from kindergarten all the way up to 11^th grade, who always feels the need to call me Kat. I guess you could say he's more like a brother than a friend. He's been with me through everything. He's lived next to me for eleven years and been my closest friend ever since he came here.

I remember when he first arrived – his parents car pulled up and all I saw was this blur of shaggy ginger hair as he ran up to me smiling a huge smile with holes were his front teeth should be. His freckled cheeks plump and his emerald green eyes shining brightly in the afternoon sun. His eyes still sparkle now as much as they did back then. After that first meeting, he automatically became my best friend.

Now, as you can guess, I'm pretty much like any other teenage girl - has two nagging parents, way too much homework, and, of course, drama.

Now, as I said before, I have two parents that just love to disagree with me. My mom isn't that bad though. She's forgiving for the most part but, as for my dad, he's a whole other story. He's pretty calm but if he gets mad at you, you're out of luck there.

About a week ago, he got mad at me because I had been sent to the Principal's Office for talking back to the teacher. I had to sit in that uncomfortable chair awaiting my fate for an hour before my mom and dad finally showed up.

As my parents walked in, signaling for me to get up, I felt my dad's hard eyes follow my every move as I stood. Following my parents into the back room of the office, into the Principal's office, we were motioned to sit down in the three chairs in front of my principal's desk. I then sat silently for another twenty minutes while we talked to my principal. The whole time my dad was talking, all I could do was sit there looking at his steel blue eyes that kept glancing back and forth from me to my principal.

After we had arranged my punishment, we left. Heading home in the car together was pure torture. Nobody talked. Nobody made eye contact. No one moved as we pulled into the garage.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, my dad finally spoke.

“Katherine, I want to have a word with you in your room.”

I said, “Sure, Dad,” with my best sarcastic voice.

I dragged my feet all the way up the stairs to my room with my dad following right behind me. As we got in the doorway, he sat me down - me sitting on my bed and him sitting across from me in my round chair. He then started talking to me about how I couldn't talk to a teacher like that and how I would get in trouble and wouldn't go anywhere if I kept talking back like that to people.

As the conversation started to get heated, my mom walked in holding three cups of hot chocolate in her arms. “It's raining outside,” she said, setting down the cups on my desk. She then smiled, showing her shinning white teeth. “It's raining outside so this should warm you up.”

As that point, I was so frustrated. I yelled at my dad to get out of my room.

Now, towering over me as he stood, his black hair-matching mine-slowly shook as he turned toward the door. And, with one last look over his shoulder, he quietly said, “Katherine, I love you. And I only do what's best for you.” He put his arm around my mom, pulling her close as they were leaving.

At the time this happened, I was so heated that all I did was yell back at him an “I love you too!” in my best sarcastic voice. I regret that now...

In the morning, we were all rushing to get ready because we all had errands to run but we decided earlier that morning that we were going to go in the same car just to make it easier.

As we left the house, still a little bitter from the argument last night, we got in the car together.

After a while of riding in the car, my dad started to talk about last night to me and, all over again, I got frustrated. But, suddenly, as we started to yell, out of nowhere, it went dark.

As I started to wake up, I felt the pain of what had happened. I realized that we had been hit by another car. I started to hear the people running around the car but my only goal right now was to get up to my parents.

As I started to crawl closer, inch by inch on my stinging, cut knees, I focused as hard as I could. As the blur of confusion started to disappear, it was replaced with sadness as I saw my parents - crumpled and broken. They were motionless. I crawled to my mom first. Holding her auburn hair in my hands as I held her head, looking down at her once sparkling hazel eyes, now glazed over with death, I felt a deep sorrow take a hold on me. After I laid her gently back down, I crept to my dad. As I looked down at him, I felt all of my remorse force it's way into my mind, causing me to throw up. As I shook from the effort, wiping my mouth, I felt the world close in around me. How could this happen? What now?All the way to the hospital I cried. I was frozen. Numb with shock.

After I had stayed at the hospital for a few days, I had to go to my grandma's house, where I would be living for a while. As I started to come out of my zone and start to kind of return back to normal routines - going to school, socializing - Ian started to talk to me more and more about what happened. He was so nice to me during that time when no one else really was. Sure, people said how sad it was about what had happened but Ian, he actually talked to me and listened to what I had to say.

About a week after the accident happened, on the day my parent's funerals were held, as I sat in the funeral home with my family and friends, I started to feel all that pain and regret of not having said “I love you” before they left. All I could think about was what I had said to my dad just before we were hit: “You don't care about me. I hate you anyway.”

I regretted it so much. I felt horrible. I lost it then and there. I ran out of the funeral home crying. As I got to the parking lot, Ian caught up with me. He asked me what was wrong and so I told him how much I missed them. After I told him, he looked down at me and then hugged me tight. I could smell his cologne as I hugged him, feeling his warmth surround me. After a few minutes, he let go.

I didn't want to go back in to the funeral home so I told him I was going to sit outside for a while.

After thinking about it for a long time, I felt so bad for what I had said. I didn't want to be here on this Earth. I wanted to go and say sorry to my parents. So I decided what I was going to do.

That night I talked to Ian about it. I told him that I had decided that I wanted to die. I wanted to be with my parents. Of course he disagreed and argued with me not to but my mind was made up. I told him I was leaving Atlanta tonight. I had chosen to use a bridge to do it. It seemed pretty easy and painless.

After I stopped talking to him, I packed only one thing - a picture of my parents and I. Now, by the time I started to walk, it was sprinkling outside. It looked like it was going to downpour soon too.

After walking for a while, I came upon a bridge that looked about right. I could feel the rain start to pour down as I heard a car pull up behind me. Soon after, Ian jumped out, yelling for me to stop. As I turned, I saw the fear in his emerald eyes. He ran to me, clutching onto me, squeezing me tightly. As he held me tight, I started to cry, pushing my face into his jacket, wet from the rain. As we stood there on that bridge, all he kept saying over and over again was, “Thank God. Don't ever leave me again...”.

After standing there for a while, he slowly let go of me, looking down at me with soft green eyes half hidden by a wall of messy ginger bangs.

He looked straight in my eyes and spoke softly to me. “I thought you were going to be gone before I got here. I couldn't let that happen.”

Slowly I said, “Why? I'm only one person. One girl. I don't really matter that much. Why did you come?”

His eyes softened as he spoke those words. “Because I love you.”

As he said this, he started to pull me closer to him. I reached up to hug him, smiling and he put his arms around my waist. And, with one swift move, he lifted my face up to his and kissed me.

Portfolio Reflection

 I have looked over all my writing pieces I have written and published and I have to say that I feel that I have done a good job on all of my pieces.

I feel that, as a writer, I should state what I have and what I lack. Some of my better parts of my writings - my strengths – are that I can relate to different people in different ways through my writing. I have tried different styles of writing – poems such as limericks and haikus, as well as full stories, short stories, and memoirs. I can put my ideas into different formats so that they will relate easier to people. I can also look at an idea from more than one angle.

But as for weaknesses, I do have them too. I sometimes get ahead of myself when I'm writing. I have too many ideas in my head at one time and then I get them mixed up and out of order. I also get off task sometimes and then forget where I am at in a piece.

I do have good and bad pieces as well. I think my best piece is probably my memoir piece - The Farm because it has a very good storyline for a short story and it sounds very nice along with other things like it having good flow as well as different styles of sentences and have a good explosion in it with a lot of details. It also describes my feelings well and goes on to actually kind of talk to the reader in a way.

Now, as for my acrostic piece, it is not my greatest piece I've ever written. It sounds really good and has a good meaning with it all, but I think, personally, that it sort of rambles on to the topic. Usually I like to state my topic and then elaborate but in this poem, it seems to kind of just go back and forth on the subject.

When I was writing these pieces though, my thought process was very clear and organized. I tried to figure out right away what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. I brainstormed and then started to elaborate on my ideas. As I started to get deeper into my writing, I started editing it and revising it and making sure it sounded right and looked right too.

After using my own method for a few years now, I have realized a few things like what works for me and what does not. I usually work better in an environment where it is quiet and I won't be disturbed or distracted easily. That helps me write both more and also helps me write better with things like details.

Like many writers though, I do always have encounter a case of writer's block. Usually, if I come upon this, I try to step back and relax for a minute. I get my mind off of it and everything and open up. After that then I can usually focus back on the piece and start to write better. Sometimes I'll listen to music to help calm me and focus me.

As I do continue to write, I feel like I want to get to know the reader and their side more. I will probably try to open up feelings from both sides in my pieces and hopefully I will make an impact on people in the future.

"Best” Piece Reflection

 For my best piece of writing, I choose my memoir-The Farm. I think that it has all the elements of a good writing piece.

I choose this piece because I think I incorporated all that I could into it. I made sure I had good details, I kept a good order and structure to it and also tried different styles to help understand it better for the reader. I made sure that my details were very fine and had a good description to visualize to. I also tried to use different sentence structures like simple sentences and compound-complex sentences too. It was a different experience and it helped to make me a better writer and also for the reader to understand and learn.

When I first started writing this piece, I wanted to write something that had happened to me and was very personal to me. I had always loved that big pine tree and the picture that I had in my pocket that I was talking about in the story really was one of my favorite pictures because it had a lot of memories behind it. I wanted the reader to understand that I had gone through some hard times and that I could always find the courage to overcome them. I just had to stay strong.

When I first started writing, I started out by describing the old pine tree that used to be my favorite place on the farm. I wrote about me climbing up in the tree and finding the best spot to sit out and look at the farm.

I had a long time to think about putting my picture into my story though. I wanted to put in the part about the picture I had but I didn't know exactly how to put it in the story. I started thinking about how I always used to put gloves in my pockets because it was cold so I decided to write that I had put the picture in my pocket.

For the ending, I decided to talk about my struggles and how I had the courage to get through it and be strong. I wanted to have the reader see this and be inspired and go out and be ready for the world and know how to take it head on.

My overall view on this piece is good and I think I did a very good job on it. I expressed what I wanted to say and hopefully inspired other people with this piece.

8) Write compositions with a variety of sentence structures and lengths

I tried many different styles for my writing pieces. I put different types of sentences into my papers along with other things as well such as complex sentences and complex-compound sentences.

Examples--
Simple: This simple picture brought back memories that I had forgotten about until just now.
Compound: Swinging my legs closer and closer to the trunk, I found a foot-hold - a perfect little pocket in the trunk of the tree.
Complex: Pulling it out of my pocket, I realized what it was - a picture.
Compound-complex: Reaching out for the next branch, I spotted the perfect branch. I started toward that golden branch, extending my arm as far as my muscles could reach, straining.

7) Demonstrate correct grammar and sentence structure.

Reviewed: I had always had a special place for him-my grandpa. He was one of my closest relatives. I could talk to him about anything. He was caring and thoughtful of everyone else before himself. He had been through a lot in his time-wars, family and recessions. He was my dad's father but he was not his real father. My father was adopted by my grandparents but it still feels like we were all blood related as we went through the years together. 

6) Use a variety of techniques effectively to provide supportive detail in writing

In my memoir I had a very detailed explosion in my writing:

He still had that distinct aura he had had for all his years he had been in my life. Sort of calming in a way. He smelled of a very classic fragrance and just a tiny hint of nursing home. As he leaned over to murmur in my ear "We're going fishing tomorrow", I could see his somber age spots that looked like natural freckles now and the hints of crows feet around his eyes glistening blue eyes. As he stood from his crouched position next to me, I thought I heard the faint sound of crackling in his pocket. I looked up at him and he look back down at me with his shining movie-star smile as he reached into his pocket to reveal a small stash of caramels in his weathered hand. As he lowered back down to my level, he picked me up and offered me one of his delicious delicacies. I quickly thanked him as I ripped that clear layer of plastic off to smell that buttery sweet candy.

5) Write with strong organization and coherence.

Original idea of order: Pain definition and introduction paragraph
                                    Sorrow paragraph
                                    Courage paragraph
                                    Love paragraph
                                    Ending/outro paragraph

4) Use strategies for editing

Edited and done: As he stood from his crouched position next to me, I thought I heard the faint sound of crackling in his pocket. I looked up at him and he look back down at me with his shining movie-star smile as he reached into his pocket to reveal a small stash of caramels in his weathered hand. As he lowered back down to my level, he picked me up and offered me one of his delicious delicacies. I quickly thanked him as I ripped that clear layer of plastic off to smell that buttery sweet candy.

3) Use strategies for revising

Original: My grandpa passed away a few years ago but I still miss him. He would be suprised at how much I grew up.

Revised: Now, as I think back to that time, being with my grandpa, I feel a deep longing to be back there with him, smiling while he was holding me. He has already passed away years ago but I still feel like he should be here with me, seeing how I've grown up into a young woman.

2) Use strategies for drafting

Original ideas: One of my favorite things on the farm was a huge pine tree.
                        I was going through some hard times then.
                        I had a picture that I always treasured of my family.

Revised: As I look back, I can remember one of our biggest pine trees in the backyard. As you stood next to the trunk, you could barely see the scraggly branches at the top with almost no pine needles still clinging to them from many storms through the tree's years. As I reached up, I could hear the bark under-foot crackle with age, and feel the warm sap leak onto my chilled fingers.

           On that picture was a young girl – me. Sitting with my mother and father – happy, with a smile on my face. It had been taken about a year ago. Before everything started changing, splitting in two, and me in-between it all.

            Now it was my last year on the farm because soon I would be moving into town with my mother while visiting my father every chance I could get because my parents were getting a divorce. As I started to turn away from the tree, I felt my sadness overwhelm me. I stopped myself, gained control, and put a smile on my face. I would get through this. As I started walking to the farm house I still called home, I knew things would be different. Things will change and I won't have any control but to just go with it. Now it was my time to be strong and so, walking away, I was scared. But I am strong.

1) Use strategies for brainstorming

When I was thinking about writing my acrostic poem, I thought of what I was going to have for a word and what it was going to be about.

Hidden Knife

Pain - a feeling both physical and mental. Everyone has it or has experienced it but do we know exactly what it is? The dictionary defines it as “physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury or mental suffering or distress”. My opinion of this particular word is a feeling someone gets when they feel like nothings going right or when they have been hurt. It is not thought about often and is almost a "hidden knife" to most people for, it has two sides. Mental and physical. It is a very complicated subject but yet everyone seems to encounter it. But to experience pain, you must first go through sorrow, courage, and love.

One of the main sides of pain is sorrow. It is feared by most people and usually not wanted but it will always seem to come around in everyone's life at least once. I have felt it also during a sad time when my parents were getting a divorce. That is actually one of the most common stories of pain and sorrow. Many people will consider this a very sad time and will wallow in deep thought about this. Sorrow is a very deep emotion that people experience but it does go hand-in-hand with pain because it is in fact a branch of pain.

Courage is an aspect of pain. It is one of the few things that will help you get through it as well. Everyone has courage but some do not show it or cannot seem to let it out to get through things the way they should. I have heard of people taking their live because they have not had the courage to overcome their problems and I think it is very sad. It is very simple – find your courage. Having courage is just being strong in a time of pain or sorrows and finding friends to help you through it.

Love is the most important part of pain. Love is a very strong feeling of affection for others and is usually thought to be a very happy emotion but it always isn't. It can also be the cause of pain as well. It can be a very big cause in a lot of pain, for a lot of people seem to find themselves in love first – together with their significant other – and then it seems to disappear and pain moves in its place. But yet, love seems to be a double-edged knife for, love can also help in times of pain and sorrows and sadness. It can be even more effective than courage because it is such a great force. It is the most powerful force that it can help overcome pain.

When people experience pain, they will have trials of sorrow, have a taste of courage, and maybe find love. In everyone's life they will have these experiences but only the brave will find a great way to deal with them and even overcome some of this pain. I think you should always find friends and family to surround you in these times and find your love and courage to get you through.

For pain, it has many names and many sides. It is whatever you want it to be to you, for you can control it if you work your hardest. Overcome it.