I Bet It Was The Bunch Of Mice Piled Up In Jnco Jeans

Thank the ever-loving alien gods that watch over us for creating the technology of extracting the text from an image. Aside from my horrible handwriting and spelling, I could not stop laughing at this dumb paper I wrote in 2000 for my period 7 English class. Teachers meet all kinds of characters. At the time, I didn’t care that I described myself as “a bunch of mice piled up in jnco jeans.” It still applies at present. I wasn’t encouraged much to keep writing by my educators, leaving me never to trust anything anyone had to say about me or my work.

Mind you; this was the teacher trying to “get to know his students” at the beginning of a new year. I couldn’t wait for it to be all over.

“OH MY GOD!” shrieked a nurse who braced herself by covering her mouth to simmer down her shock. She was looking out of a window that flooded with birds. People were screaming, scrambling to find shelter to get away from hell on earth that they never expected. Hundreds were dead in the streets, the remaining begging for death.

“WHERE IS SHE?” repeated the nurse deliriously.
Everclear Medical Facility was a terrible place and everything that had inhabited the hospital. “SHE’S COMING ISHES COMING!”
Screamed another nurse, alerting the others.
“Out of our way!” exclaimed a doctor escorting a pregnant woman on a hospital bed that he was rolling down the hospital corridor. A priest, three other nurses dressed in red scrubs, and a man who appeared to be her husband were also with her. The pregnant woman had a face of excruciating pain. She was in labor. They finally made it to a room, where seen she was to give birth to it.

“Ok, now I want you to breathe deeply and push as long and hard as you can,” said the doctor calmly, sweating profusely through his protective medical equipment.

The woman took a long deep breath, holding her husband’s hand as she pushed. The room shook violently at its foundation, reactionary from her screams of pain. The priest stood in the corner of the room, with his eyes closed, praying under his breath, shaking.

“I can see the head. Just one more push! You can do it!” said the doctor. The woman took another deep breath and began to push harder. Her struggle progressed to neck, shoulder, and then arms. The newborn’s mouth sprung open, mouthing a silent scream, extending their arms and legs with it. Lights blew out, windows shattered, and the clock stopped at 9:43 pm.

“It’s a girl. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Hollandaze.” said the doctor, holding their new baby.

My name is Mandry Wooleth Hollandaze, and I was born at Everclear Medical Facility on January 19th, 1983. I was born and raised in New Berlin county in West Hampshire. My Mother, Adanac Mimery, was born and raised in the southern regions of Mossxico. My father, Galabatar Hollandaze, was born in Ygam. My upbringing and heritage are the Traag beliefs, where my father’s grandparents were born. Father told me many stories of where my parents and grandparents were from, and I chose to believe only one thing, I am a pile of mice in an oversized pair of Jnco Jeans. And after living the first 15 years of my mouse life, I have experienced many beautiful things that are important reminders of how I become the pathological spirit I am today.

Being the only child in the family was very hard to handle. I had no playmates and no friends. By the age of 8, I declared myself a hermit. I never went outside for anything, and then again, living on the 45th Floor in a 110-story building, would your Mother let you go out and play? Possibly, maybe, but you didn’t have my Mother. With my mental seclusion, I developed a bad habit of talking to myself and seeing objects that weren’t there, but on the bright side, I developed a taste in music. When I was younger, my Mother told me that I had loved music, but how could I remember that? Still, up until this day, I adore music and will die worshiping it.

Another great moment in my developing psychosomatic life is that I love television. It gave me the messed-up imagination I have today. But the sunny side of tv in my life is that it gave me the hopes, dreams, and motivations of being what I want to be in this world. There are millions of jobs I could have. Like a janitor or a dishwasher or even a maid. But I set my goals high to be a Forensic Pathologist or an agent at the Central Intelligence Agency. But for now, I’ll try as hard as I can to be a kid, something I will pay for later in life.

And last but not least, the last installment is my education. I’ve attended four different schools in my lifetime thus far. I went to Full-on Gods Spells Academy for kindergarten; then it was P.S. 311 for 1st and 2nd grades- I was not fond of public school all that much. Next was St. Latifah of Living Single School, where I spent six years wasting my time. And at present, I attend Bishop Luther Monkey High School, which I enjoy.

With this closing, my life has not even begun to be interesting enough to write a paper. I hope to be in the future every that I dream of being. I wish only the best for myself and that I make a good life in the process.