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By Root 951 0

found me alive next to my boyfriend. Lucky for Juliet, she died and she didn’t see the reaction of her parents, nor did she have to go through punishments. I survived, and unlike Juliet’s parents, my parents didn’t welcome me with tears falling down from their faces. Instead, when my parents arrived at my boyfriend’s house, my mother was the first to get out of the car. As she looked into my eyes, I felt the shame I had caused her. She headed toward my boyfriend and started screaming and lecturing him. My dad came toward me, cussing and screaming. Unexpectedly, he punched me in the eye. Then, he switched places with my mom. She grabbed my hair and pulled me toward the car while he yelled at my boyfriend. I fell because I was wearing high heels and my mom was moving too fast. She screamed, “Levántate!” (get up). “My shoe, my shoe fell off!” I cried. She picked up my platform shoes and I got up. She pushed me into the car and started hitting me with my platform shoes. I held my hands up to my face and felt the heel of my shoe bruising my hands. She stopped when my dad got into the car.

When we arrived home, my mother kept screaming at me, “Eres tan estúpida por irte con un muchacho que ni siquieras conoces!” (You are so stupid for running away with a guy that you don’t even know). I wonder how Juliet’s parents would have reacted to their daughter’s actions and how Juliet would have responded. I just went into my room, not saying a word. My parents followed me. They kept telling me that I couldn’t see my boyfriend ever again. They put me on restriction. I wasn’t allowed to use the phone, have any company, or go out with anybody. That’s why I’m here in Ms. G’s class right now.

My mother thought it would be best for me to attend a school near her work and in a different school district that was at least one hour away from home. She thought that driving me to and picking me up from school would prevent me from contacting my boyfriend and that I’d forget about him. It didn’t work.

Just like Juliet, I found a way to see my boyfriend. I ditched my classes and would call him from the public phones on campus. My mother didn’t have an idea of what was going on until I got caught by one of my relatives. My aunt was on the same bus that my boyfriend and I were riding.

My mom was ashamed to hear that her own relative saw me kissing my boyfriend on a bus. She didn’t know what to do. Finally, my parents decided that I could be with my boyfriend under one condition. That my boyfriend and I waited until I turned fifteen (this is a tradition from my culture, indicating that when a girl turns fifteen, she is a woman and mature enough to take serious responsibilities). Since I thought I was so in love and would do anything to be with my boyfriend without sneaking behind my parents’ back, we both agreed to wait. So, we stopped seeing each other, just before my class got to the end of the story.

I hate to admit that my parents were right all along. How can we both believe that we were so in love with each other if we didn’t even take the time to really know each other? I was too young and stupid, like Juliet, to fall in love. Luckily, I didn’t kill myself and have a tragic ending like Romeo and Juliet did. I guess I wasn’t that desperate.

Diary 17

Dear Diary,

In Ms. Gruwell’s class today, we played the “Peanut Game.” The rules of the game included one piece of paper and a description of a peanut inside and out. I wrote about the peanut and said it was small, round, and dirty. On the other side of the paper I stated that even though it looked terrible, it tasted fantastic! We categorized all of the peanuts by mentioning their different exteriors. I soon realized the “Peanut Game” was similar to the situation I had about my weight.

One day in junior high, I was getting off the school bus from a seat in the back. It is a seat where no one likes to sit and is always empty. I heard people shouting, “Hey, Fatso!” “You big buffalo!” A group of obnoxious girls screamed such awful comments that I, an “obese” twelve-year-old girl, will sadly