What really sets me off about church is that it’s basically just a big fake that makes you give the church money because you think you're benefiting God. The most ridiculous part is that our pastor is my football coach, Coach Walsh. If the devil himself can be a pastor then I don’t want to be a part of it. My grandma always tells me, “One day your gonna thank …show more content…
As I walk into the kitchen I see so many letters that I get kind of sweaty, and I beging to get stressed that we have to go through each one of them. Especially since Grandma is opening them with us, she’s going to want to see what every college has to offer.
Moni and I do our “shimmy handshake,” and then get down to business. Letter by letter, we go through. Most people would have probably been jumping for the hills with a full scholarship to any D1 college, but not us. We see all the big names and it doesn’t phase us because we know what they have really to offer.
As my butt starts to get sore from sitting down all day and my eyes begin to feel heavy, Moni screams. He screams like a fat kid at a candy and he sees that every candy is for free. He screams as if he knows that his life is complete. He screams like he’s gonna make it big one day and never look back. I yell to him, “Jesus, man you all most gave grams a heart attack, what the hell is so exciting that your screaming like a lil girl for.” With tears in his eyes he said to me in a sobbing voice, “We did it man!”
“What the hell do you mean we did it!” I fire back, starting to get very impatient him. My grandma takes the letter reads, and her hand quickly covers her mouth in …show more content…
Paying no mind to the blood that is everywhere, I feel nothing, absolutely nothing! I see the hole in his head where the bullet entered, and I just weep. I cry continuously and if I try to stop my heart will explode with sorrow. I don’t even call for help beacuse nothing can bring him back now. So many things run threw my mind. Should I go kill that son of a bitch punk that killed my bestfriend, and snatched his dreams, our dreams away. Should go strangle that tramp the lied on me and started all of this mess. Should I have just listen to my grandma and stayed home, which makes me begin to blame myself. Then I run out of room for pain and sadness ,and what feels me is a fire.
A fire of rage, but channeled into determination. A fire that tells me to do what Moni what’ve wanted, and that is to see me be great. As this fire starts to come through me something overcomes, a spirit of hope in this preposterous moment. I bow my head and pray, and not to God, but to Moni with his body in my hands. I say, “Everything I do from now is for you, I will be great for you, I will be great in your name, I will live your dream, and my love for you will not fade, but grow strong...I love you.”
All the sorrow, pain, depression I felt in that moment turned into hope, desire, passion. I will forever be blessed that Moni saved my life, and won’t let it go to