These are youth group members
I was going to list a few of them, had the pictures too, but no energy
to do so. Didn't finish copying the story either. I just felt like
saying that Bethanie is a beautiful person, must be that religion thing
=) That look she gave me in lunch was amazing i'll never forget it,
like 'why'. I love her, for her and Graeme to do the story is an
incediable thing. Dispite what it said it's not a bad thing, just
Major. The story is extreamly well thought out and quite intelligent. I
believe they were using the story to tell me I need to snap out of my
rut. But Graeme made a huge error in his style. Not only did he make
the story attacking and agressive, but he added the suicide thing.
Putting those together in the same context is a big 'no no'. No one on
earth would be That self critical, quite the contrary - I am
persicuted. You could say, well then why wouldn't I kill you too? The
suicide thing at the end was other worldly. Killing Amy is other
worldly too. (def. 'other worldly' = 'wow')
Story
Young Willem always wanted to belong. Unfortunately, he never
really did, though. Willem was a rather quiet child, a trait born from
his extremely low self-esteem. He was withdrawn, unwilling to approach
others, instead he stood and watched the others, hoping one of them
would approach him. His extreme lack of self-confidence paved the path
for his loney, desperate childhood. Willem was always an outsider
looking in, wishing to join in the fun other youngsters shared, yet not
wanting to be seen, reproachful of large crowds for fear of being
humiliated.
He remembered one particularly regretful moment in his dull, uneventful
childhood that he wishes he could do over again. It was the summer of
his eleventh year, at a sword fighting tournament in which almost all
the village boys participated. Now of course they did not use real
swords, and Willem was thankful because he probably would have stumbled
and speared himself with it, but wooden blades, flat like a paddle with
a blunted tip. Willem was reclused from the crowd, standing alone away
from the small crowd of gatherers that cheered on their champions to
victory. Willem was alone, like a daisy sprouting up from a field of
grass. No wait a minute, it was actually more like an acorn that had
fallen off it's tree, helplessly cut off from the other.
Willem had watched with excitement, his mind forgetting about the
competition and drifting away like smoke into another one of his
daydreams. These daydreams were one of they ways Willem kept his sanity
in his loney life. Willem pictured himself as the Queen's Champion,
awarrior who stood above the others, his followers. But the happy
fantasy turned sour, as the Queen and all the followers had the faces
of the villagers of his town. How can I be a Champion? I can't even
muster the courage to talk to them? Willem was at rock-bottom now. He
knew that wherever he went, there would be people just like the ones
surrounding him now, that he would have to communicate with. He knew
they would look at him and laugh at his lanky appearance the way he was
sure everyone else did.