Jessica Pulido
Professor Aparicio
English 1302
29 September 2015
Stuck In Another Life
I’ve entered a time warp; I'm back in my seventh grade English class. I look around and I see old classmates. People I haven’t seen in years. My old best friend is on my left with her buck-toothed smile and a crooked ponytail. The white walls contain nothing but a solitary poster that reads, "Books are gateways to another life" in bright green letters drawn on a cartoon brain. I can never guess what it means. I walk in to that class after lunch every day, sit at my desk, and stare at it for an hour and a half, yet I can never relate to it in any way.
My teacher, strict and on the heavy side, was the type of teacher you didn’t want to get on her bad side. If she even had sides. She was giving us a lecture on how to infer poems with the chalk screeching like nails on the board. Our eyes widened with horror while she talked to us like we were foreigners that didn’t understand the concept of the language. “Songs. Are. Poems.” Not only did I hate poems I hated analyzing them as well. Rock was never in my interest so I detested “Fully Alive” when Ms. Brock first played it for us to analyze. It was impossible to even concentrate on the first verse of the song due to the icicle forming on my nose. I guess since she was a heavy-set lady she got warm very easily and insisted on keeping the room temperature in the forties. The song itself was depressing but it only made it worse that I was having a flash back. My uncle was lying on the hospital bed, quiet and without energy. He had just come out of getting the monstrous tumor removed that was growing inside of him. Cancer. There was finally something I could sadly relate to.
"Earth to Jessica. Earth to Jessica. I would enjoy it if you joined us back to class from La La Land." Embarrassment burned my cheeks as she could see the fear in my eyes, "I'm sorry Ms. Brock." She sarcastically asked me if I wanted to join the other kids outside so she could do me the favor and give me one of her special passes. A pink slip to the office. I politely decline and tried my best to ignore the kids playing in the sunshine with their homemade rockets.
I looked down at my desk and noticed there was a list of books that wasn't there before I took my trip to Mars. "Books to read before Thanksgiving." My eyes widen as I turned to my right to make eye contact with the blonde-haired, German girl. She took my doubts and answered me with her light blue eyes. It was confirmed that I wasn’t dreaming or imagining things. We really had a list of books we had to read before our break.
We were in late September and she really expected us to have eight novels read in a month and a half. I hated her for being so strict now I hated her for making us read so much. As if the reading wasn't enough she assigned us a book report on our choice of book from the list. Writing was never one of my strongest subjects so now I detested her. How can she expect us to read so much?! We were in seventh grade English not in English in college!
Out of the twenty books on the list I picked my eight and went to her unorganized, dumpster of a desk to let her know of my choices. Her devilish smile was plastered on her face and handed me a pass to the library to get my first two books. I ran out of the class as fast as my little legs could carry me. Six minutes, one to get there four to get our books from the librarian and one to walk back. Bless the little heart that got back later than six minutes. The innocent pig-tailed girl drooped her head as she made her walk to get the detention slip. Ms. Brock didn't want to take even two seconds to listen to her reasons of why she was late. She sent her off with the snap of her chubby fingers.
I began “Maximum Ride, The Angel Experiment” by James Patterson as soon I reached my desk. At first I thought this was one of the stupidest books I could ever read. Once I got into the third chapter I couldn’t put the book down even to save my life. I suddenly became Angel, ninety eight percent human and two percent bird. I could feel the desperation she felt being living like rats in cages. Freedom was finally achieved but Angel and the flock were the primary prey for the wicked wolf-like creatures with a taste for flying humans. I felt every emotion Angel felt. I was in the book itself. Jessica and Angel save the day. I took it everywhere with me. Yes, even the restroom. I finished the book and I instantly knew that was the book I would use for my book report. Anxiety ran through my veins as I couldn’t read fast enough to read the other books. I finished the remainder of the books in just two weeks. I was not as lost in the other books as I was lost in the first one. For once, I was looking forward to writing a book report.
Ms. Brock wasn’t the person I first thought she was. She actually wanted to teach us. It is because of her why I pick up books to read on my spare time. I declared myself a terrible human being for making fun of her weight when I should have been appreciative of what she was changing in me. If it weren’t for her making me read I wouldn’t have discovered what it feels like to have a different life. An escape from the cancerous reality.
Once I started writing my report I realized what the poster meant: in reading you feel like you're actually experiencing what the characters in the book experience. You get lost in another life. Like George R.R. Martin said, “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies…The man who never reads lives only one.” I learned to value literature once I got interested more in reading. After sitting in the same spot for three months, my opinion on reading finally changed within eight novels.