Fourth Quater Outside Reading Book Review

The Lost Boy by Dave Pelzer. Health Communications, Inc., 1997. Genre: Nonfictional novel

The Lost Boy is a story about a boy named Dave. It is the sequel to A Child Called "It." It takes place in California. Dave had been abused by his alcoholic mother in his early childhood. The story is about him leaving her and going into Foster Care. He goes from the age of twelve to eighteen in this book. It is about him going from foster house to foster house in search of a place to call home where people love him.

"The Lost Boy stands shining as the premier book on the unique love and dedication that social services and foster families provide for our children in peril. Dave Pelzer is certainly a living testament of resilience, personal responsibility and the triumph of the human spirit." -John Bradshaw, bestselling author of Bradshaw On: The Family, Homecoming and Family Secrets


David Pelzer's writing style changes slightly in this book when compared to the first one in the series. In A Child Called "It," he wrote more like a child speaks or thinks. In The Lost Boy he writes like a teenager would speak or think. He takes on his child-like persona really well. In his writing, you feel like you are the one experiencing what he went through because he describes everything so vividly. I'm surprised that he could remember so much. If I was him, I would want to block those memories out. He does the exact opposite. He uses his bad experiences to educate people on what is happening in the world. I think that's the reason why he wrote these books.

"David, this is not a time to act funny. You have to understand something: You're a foster child. A foster child. And because of that, you've got two strikes against you. You have to be careful of everything you say and everything you do. If you get into trouble, we...we could lose you" (142).


I really liked this book. In my opinion, it wasn't as good as the first book in the series, but I still liked this one. My mother is a therapist. She worked in Holyoke for about fifteen years. She dealt with situations like this (but not as severe) all the time. At times she would get so stressed out about what someone was going through, she would come home and cry. I felt bad for my mother. I never really thought about the people she worked with. When I started to read this series, it reminded me of them. I realized that the ones that I should feel sorry for were the people that had to deal with his stuff every single day of their lives. I think that this book has really opened up my eyes to what is happening every day. It made me thankful for my life and it made me want to go out and help them in any way.

In Monotone

My heart beats so fast that I barely know
if it is still beating. My limbs feel as if they aren't
working properly, either.
It's just nerves..
not a big deal

If it's not such a big deal,
then why am I acting this way?
Why can't I just take a deep breath of air
and make it all go away?

I can't because of my nerves
and my fears.
They control me.

Alright, here I come.
That's my cue.
I have to go and say my lines
and act like I've never acted before.
But I know I cannot.

My fear controls me.

I know I will come up short.
I will simply say my lines in
a monotone
and act the way I'm supposed to.

This play that I've got going for myself
is only up to par.

I am not in control.

Santiago's Nobility

In order to survive, man must kill. To gain nourishment and further our existence, we have to end the existence of another. Even if it is just animals, we still don’t like to think about it. Although, we know that it is happening. Let’s take Santiago, for example. The wise old man from Cuba thought of the marlin as his brother, yet he still had to kill it. Santiago had to go through so much to catch this marlin, but he never gave up and he held onto his innocence the entire time. Having to catch the marlin and then having it taken away from him was most likely devastating.

Santiago is a devoted fisherman. He hasn't caught a fish in a long time, but he's still optimistic because he comes out to sea every single day and works compassionately to catch them. If that isn’t determination, I don’t know what is. “My choice was to go there and find him beyond all people. Beyond all people in the world. Now we are joined together and have been since noon. And no one to help either of us” (50). When catching the marlin, he was patient and he never gave up. He held onto that rope for three days and never once thought about letting it go. That is a life lesson to all of Ernest Hemingway’s readers. Perseverance is a life value that you should live by because in the end, you’ll probably catch that marlin.

Going back to the first paragraph, Santiago had to kill the marlin even though he thought of it as his brother. He had to kill it because he was poor and he needed the money. I think that Santiago had an extreme respect towards nature and the animals in it. He lived off of nature. That’s why he thought of the marlin as his brother. Santiago thought: “You loved [the marlin] when he was alive and you loved him after” (105). He loved the marlin because he respected it. The marlin was going to grant him money for food and pride for being a fisherman.

I also said that he held onto his innocence. What I meant by saying that was that in some way or another, Santiago held onto his childhood through his dreams. Ernest Hemingway writes: “He no longer dreamed of storms, nor of women, nor of great occurrences, nor of great fish, nor fights, nor contests of strength, nor of his wife. He only dreamed of places now and of the lions on the beach” (25). When I read this, I was astounded and curious. How could anyone never dream about their wife? I then realized that his childhood was a time of peace in his life, so it was left in his subconscious. The lions were the best part of his childhood. He hadn’t let go of his childhood memories, which is something that few people do.

In order to survive, Santiago had to kill. Santiago knew how to live, even though he was living in poverty. He was ambitious, cared for people, animals, and nature, and he knew how to hold onto his childhood. People should learn a thing or two from him. They should take what he does and apply it to their own life. Whoever would do that would be a better person in the end. His morals should make others envious. These few life values make him noble when compared to actual people. Ernest Hemingway had great themes throughout his moralistic and metaphorical book. He makes Santiago such a role model to people everywhere in all types of situations.

Third Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

New Moon by Stephenie Meyer. Little, Brown and Company, 2006. Genre: Fiction novel.
Edward and his family leave Forks in order to not reveal that they are vampires. Bella believed that they left because Edward no longer loved her, so she goes into a deep depression. She depends on her friend, Jacob Black, for a way out of the depression. She finds out that Jacob is a werewolf and that his pack is protecting Bella from Victoria. Alice then comes back and takes Bella to Italy to save Edward from the Volturi.
"The author has somehow set to paper a credible journey through and recovery from depression. Even though this is a supernatural story - I think that a lot of people who have felt broken from loss will find a kindred spirit in Bella in this book....[New Moon will] leave [fans] breathless for the third." -School Library Journal.
For most of this book, Bella's self esteem is low. The author focuses a lot on the pain that Bella feels and on what she thinks of herself and the situation that she's in. She confides in Jacob for a way out of the pain of heartbreak. This book reminds me of the book that I read last quarter, Uninvited. First, both of the main characters are dealing with mythical creatures. Second, they both either leave or get left by a vampire and it bothers them in some way. Third, a vampire wants to kill them. For Bella, it's Victoria and for Jordan, it's Michael.
"Times passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and in dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me." Page 93.
I read the first book of the Twilight Saga and was amazed at Stephenie Meyer's work. I couldn't put the book down. When I was done with it, I instantly moved on to the next one. New Moon was a good book, but, unlike the book before it, it was anti-climactic. Other than that, the book was a great read and I would recommend it to anyone.
I chose the word collage for my project. Here is the link to it: http://www.polyvore.com/new_moon/set?id=6751825

Short Story

Mein Wolf, Adolf

It is common knowledge that Adolf Hitler was, in a way, married to Germany. He tried to keep his personal love affairs a secret. He feared that if his country knew, they would no longer adore him. Few found out about his marriage to Eva Braun at the time. Even less knew of me, Maria Reiter. We were engaged in the late 20s. I was madly in love with him, and I still am. I believe that he loved me more than Eva, but he loved no one over Germany. This is our story.

It was a crisp morning in Berchtesgaden, Germany. It was 1926 and I was sixteen at the time. I loved taking walks on mornings like these. My father, who was an Official of the Social Democratic Party, had me take the dogs along. My soul was so emancipated that, to this day, I couldn’t believe it. The park was a brilliant green, but the leaves on the trees had the slightest hint of red in them. Mother Nature was being benevolent. Fall was coming early, and I couldn’t wait. Germany looked so beautiful in the fall.

This was the day that I met him. He looked very handsome and he had a pronounced look to him. He was walking his police dogs, just as I was. I guess this gave him an incentive to come speak to me. It must have looked strange for a girl to be walking police dogs. My heart raced as he came my way. I wasn’t use to speaking to strangers. My father often joked that I had xenophobia.

“Good morning,” he greeted when he was close enough for me to hear him.
I smiled and nodded in greeting. “Good morning,” I replied quietly.
“You wouldn’t mind telling me why you have those dogs, would you?” he asked politely.
“No, I don’t mind. My father is an Official. I’m taking them for a walk,” I told him calmly. My nerves were starting to relax. He was very easy to talk to.
“Oh, I see. I’m a Party Leader; one of the younger ones. I just turned thirty seven in April,” he stated proudly. “I’m Adolf Hitler,” he told me with a smile as he put out his free hand.
I smiled and shook it. “My name is Maria Reiter, sir.”
He furrowed his brow and inspected my features. “You don’t look like a Maria.”
“Well, most people call me Mimi. It’s just a pet name, though. Only those who know me well call me by it,” I replied shyly.
“I hope we will get to know each other, then. Mimi fits you better,” he stated with a dashing smile.
This made me blush. The thought of getting to know a handsome man like him made my heart flutter.

That was where it all began. We talked until noon that day and we had walked the perimeter of the park at least twice. When we realized the time, he had joked that our dogs wouldn’t need another walk for a week. The next morning I was eager to go to the park. We hadn’t planned to meet, but I hoped he would be there. Luckily, he was. We met at the park every morning and talked. We talked about current events and town gossip, but we mostly spoke of politics and the government. Since I was a woman, I usually didn’t talk about these things, but he encouraged me to. He wanted to know my opinions, unlike every other man I had met. He had inquisitive, but enlightening opinions. Adolf told me of his covert plans for Germany. He said that he would save us, and I believed him. If he ever tried to be one, he would make a perfect leader.

I believe it was only after two weeks of speaking to me that he started calling me Mimi. I liked it when he did that. It made me feel special for some reason. After about a month, our talks became more and more personal. He told me that his father died when he was fifteen and his mother died only three years later. He spoke fondly of his mother. I loved hearing stories about her. He even showed me a picture of her that he always kept in his back pocket. He told me about his sister, Paula, and he spoke of Austria, which was where they were born. Adolf sometimes even told me war stories. He was a veteran from World War One. He knew that the stories frightened me, but I still liked to hear them. They were so full of danger and adventure.

After we became very close, he invited me to come hear him speak. I can’t remember what the place was called, but his speech was moving and inspirational. I think that if he had said anything else, I would have started to cry. It was a very authoritarian speech. Afterwards, he invited me to go over his house. One of his neighbors had made him a congratulations cake and he wanted me to have some. It was an impromptu invitation. I knew that my parents wouldn't have liked me to go and they would be worried about where I was, but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk about his speech so much. At this time, I didn’t know what love felt like. I didn’t know the difference between friendship and love. I couldn’t tell that I loved Adolf, or that he loved me.

We had talked in the kitchen for a long time about certain parts of his speech. I hadn’t told him how much I had liked it yet. I didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts. We hadn’t gotten to the cake yet. I now waited in his living room. It was a small room, but it looked new and pretty. The couch and armchair both had the same beautiful brown floral print and there was a stone fireplace, which embellished the room. He came in with our pieces of cake. He gave me mine and I thanked him. The frosting was a light blue color that coincidentally matched my dress.

“Oh, Adolf. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful that speech was. I loved it,” I told him as he sat next to me on the couch.
“Why would you think that? We just discussed all of the information in the kitchen. You made it clear that you already knew what I had presented. I just presented it formally, is all,” he responded with a chuckle.
“Well, maybe it was your stage presence. You've got a powerful semblance when you’re talking to a group of people, you know.”
“Thank you, Mimi. It means a lot coming from you.”
I smiled, even though I knew he prized my opinion. I looked down at my cake. I had already taken a few bites without knowing it. I then looked up at the clock on the wall. The time startled me. “Oh, my. It’s so late, Adolf. My mother will be worried sick. I have to go home. I’m sorry.”

I placed my plate on the small table that sat in front of us and stood up. Adolf stood up as well, blocking my way to the door. He looked down at me with a smirk on his face. I tried going around him, but he wouldn’t let me. I looked up at him in a bit of shock. Why wouldn’t he let me go by?

“Don’t leave without a goodnight kiss,” he commanded in his lulling voice.
I looked down to the beige carpet the second I heard him say kiss. I had never kissed anyone before. “Adolf, I-”
“You what?” he asked. I could hear a bit of anger enter his voice.
“I can’t. You know I can’t,” I told him, still looking at the floor.
“I don’t know anything of the sort,” he said sternly.
I looked up at him now. “Adolf, I’m sixteen years old,” I told him with my brows furrowed.
“Age doesn’t matter, Mimi. It never has. Girls your age marry men far older than I am all the time.”
“That’s because they’re arranged. That’s the only reason,” I replied scornfully. “Now, let me go home.”
This seemed to hurt him, so he didn’t stop me when I pushed by him. I walked slowly to the door, keeping my eyes on him the whole time. He slouched his shoulders slightly and looked at the floor. He looked defeated and I felt bad for him. Before I knew it, I was walking home in the darkness with tears streaming down my face.

I often talked with my mother about Adolf. I never told her of that night, though. If she knew of it, she would certainly forbid me to see him. Even without an order, I didn’t see Adolf until a while after that night. It was my choice to never go back to the park. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him. I was just afraid that he wouldn’t speak to me. I was afraid that he would hate me. After speaking to my mother about love, I found that I did love him, no matter how old he was.

I thought I would never see him again. I cried every night. I knew it was my fault. I didn’t have the courage to look for him. Thank goodness he had the courage to look for me. One sunny day, there was a knock on my door. My brother, Charlie, answered it and said it was for my father. I had been in the kitchen, washing dishes. Charlie led our visitor to my father’s study. He passed in front of the kitchen and I was amazed to find out who was following him. Adolf Hitler walked proudly behind my brother. I stared at him in disbelief and my knees felt wobbly. I carefully walked around the counter and over to the door frame that I had seen him from. I peered around the corner and watched him enter my father’s room. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Adolf had asked my father permission to pursue me and my father had said yes. It was no longer immoral to be around Adolf. I spent every afternoon with him after that. He would take me places outside of our little town in his Mercedes. It was the best time of my life. One day he took me on a long drive. It was a lovely day out and I let the zephyr blow through my hair. On the way to wherever he was taking me, he asked me the strangest question.

“Mimi, would you mind calling me Wolf?”
“Now, why would I call you that?” I asked him, a bit puzzled by his obscure question.
“It’s what my name means. Adolf means Noble Wolf,” he told me with pride.
I looked at him with a crooked smile. Wolf seemed to match him perfectly. “Alright, I’ll call you Wolf instead of Adolf. Wolf fits you better,” I told him, mimicking one of the first things he told me.
He smirked and stopped the car. “We’re here,” he told me.

I jumped out of the car, excited to stretch my legs. I looked at our destination. It was a beautiful meadow with a large pine tree right in the middle of it. Adolf took my hand and we ran through the meadow like children. We spent all day in that meadow. He braided flowers into my hair and read me poems. I felt free.

When the sun started to set, he took me to the big pine tree, which looked even larger up close. He traced a part of the trunk and I realized that “Wolf” was carved into it. He smirked and took a switch blade from his pocket. He engraved a plus sign and my name under his so it now read, “Wolf + Mimi.” I smiled and laughed. Now our love would be here forever.

Adolf turned to me and said, “my sister and I use to play in this meadow. It was a good part of my life and I wanted to share it with you.”
I smiled and then realized something. We were in Austria. That was where he grew up. It made me so happy that he brought me all this way. “Wolf, I love you.”

We kissed under that pine tree. It was the happiest moment of my life. He later asked for my hand in marriage and I said yes. I grew fond of calling him Wolf. Mein Wolf I would say, which is German for my wolf. I had the time of my life with him. We were engaged and I couldn’t be happier. That was, until he told me we couldn’t be married. It was a beautiful warm day and we both wore thin clothing. We were driving in his Mercedes, as usual. He brought me to the park where we had met. I hadn't been here in such a long time. It brought back good memories. Those memories were what made everything hurt much more.

He opened the car door for me and helped me out of the car. He never looked me in the eyes for some reason. Without saying anything, he took me by the hand and led me to a secluded area. We were surrounded by trees covered in dark green leaves. I looked up at him and smiled. He still wasn't looking me in the eyes.

"Mein Wolf, what's wrong?" I asked. He had never acted this way before.
"Mimi, I have to tell you something," he told me quietly.

"Well, tell me then."

"Mimi, there are rumors..."

"Look at me when your talking."

It took him a lot of effort, but he finally looked me in the eyes. I immediately knew that something was wrong. His eyes were full of sorrow.

"What's wrong?" I asked again, panic in my words.

"We can't...we can no longer be engaged to marry." His eyes were full of apology now.

I was shocked. My brain didn't want to process it. "What?"

"I said that we can't be together anymore."

"Why?" I asked, my heart aching now that my brain had started to realize what was happening.

"There are rumors. Rumors that say we shouldn't be together. They say you're too young. They say that it doesn't look good for a man in my position."

"I thought you wanted to marry me. I thought you loved me." I felt the tears coming and I struggled to keep them in.

"I do. I love you like I'll love no one else. I wan't to marry you and have blond children. I want to be with you forever. I just can't right now. I have to save Germany, first."

Of course. He loved Germany more than he would ever love me. He had told me about his plans for the fatherland. I should have known. That was when I could no longer hold back the tears. I cried in his arms until my checks were raw.

He left me in the summer of 1928.

I was devastated. This quandary threshed at my heart every time I thought of him. All I knew of life was him. He made me who I was. I had known nothing but him my entire life. Without him, I was nothing. When he left, my world exploded. I began to believe that there were no rumors. I believed that he was lying the entire time. I doubted his love. I doubted myself. Was I not pretty enough? Smart enough? Not good enough? Was I not whole enough? I couldn't live in a world where he wasn't with me. I couldn't let myself live without him. This was when I hung myself.

The rope was older and more tattered than I had hoped, but it would hold me until I choked. I hadn’t eaten in days, so I would be light enough. There was no reason to live, so why eat? I took a cab to the meadow in Austria. It wasn’t hard to find. It was behind a popular church. I kept the rope in my bag until the cab drove away. I ran to the old pine tree and read our names that were engraved into the bark. Tears fell from my eyes as I climbed the tree and tied one end of the rope to a stalwart branch. It was the highest I could reach. Just as I was about to tie the other end around my neck, I saw a figure at the edge of the meadow. Was it Wolf? Had he really come back for me? The figure came running towards me and I felt my heart flutter like the first time we met. He had really come back. His love was real and strong. He loved me more than he loved Germany.

I smiled and shouted, “Wolf, you’ve come back. I love you, Wolf!”

I squinted my eyes to get a better glimpse of him. He looked smaller than I had remembered, but maybe he wasn’t eating either. My hysteria made me often think of wonderful things that didn’t make sense. He was almost here now.
“Mimi,” he shouted. “Mimi, get down from there!” His voice sounded different, as well.
“Wolf, is that you?” I asked, unsure of it, now.
“Who’s Wolf?” he asked.

He was here now, just about twenty feet away, but it wasn’t my Wolf. It was my brother. Charlie had come to save me from myself. Panic ran through my veins. I had almost forgotten what I had come here for. I had to hurry. If I didn’t, he would stop me. I quickly and clumsily tied the rope around my neck and, taking a deep breath, jumped.
The world went silent. The flowers and long grass of the meadow blurred into a green mess. Then everything was black.

I woke up in Charlie’s arms. We were still in the meadow, but under the pine tree. He was breathing deeply and quickly, almost to the point of hyperventilating. It looked like he wanted to cry, but Charlie didn't like showing emotion. He was a strong man, but I knew that he was still my little brother on the inside. I looked around and saw the rope a few yards away from us. It had been cut. Charlie must have cut it with his pocket knife. I reached up and put my hand to his cheek. He looked sadly into my eyes and mouthed my name.

"I'm sorry, Charlie."

Charlie looked away from me with his head slumped down.

"Charlie, look at me when I'm talking," I demanded more angrily than I wanted to. I realized that these were the same words that I had told Wolf before he had...
He still didn't look at me. His breathing had returned to normal. He still held me in his arms like I was the only thing that mattered in the whole world. After a few minutes, he spoke without turning towards me. "It's Charles, Mimi."

"What?" I asked him, unsure of what he was talking about.

He turned to me. "My name. I've told you a million times that it's not Charlie. My name is Charles. Charlie is a kid's name," he told me seriously.

I let out a laugh, which was the first in months. This startled Charlie. "You know you'll always be my little brother, Charlie."

"Mimi, I don't think now is the time for laughter. I mean, you just tried to kill yourself for crying out loud!" he told me sternly.
"Is that why you wouldn't look at me?" I asked, my laughter gone.
"Well, in a way. It's just that every time I look into your eyes I see you jumping off that tree branch with a rope around your neck." He closed his eyes. He was trying very hard not to cry.
"I'll never do it again," I told him with certainty. I didn't know where it came from, but my near death experience opened my eyes. "I'll forget Adolf. Or at least, I'll try."


It took a long time to get over Adolf. I no longer called him Wolf. He wasn’t the same person anymore. I still loved him, but he was no longer my world. I had married a hotel keeper, but it was short-lived. I divorced him because there was no one in the world who could replace my Wolf. There was no contact from him until someone came to my door who worked for “Mr. Hitler.” I went to him in Munich and found out that he wanted me back. I kept my cool and found out that he still didn’t want to be married. The thought made me angry. If he loved me, he would marry me and not keep me around like a mistress. I left the next day.


In 1936 I married again. He was an SS Officer named Kubisch. I had stopped looking for another Adolf. Kubisch loved me, and that was enough reason to get married. We were married for four years. Adolf and I met one last time. I asked him how he was with Eva Braun, his coquettish wife. He told me that things were not well with her. He told me that he was too old and that she ought to find a young man to be with. I laughed at the irony. He told me that I was the only one he ever truly loved. It seemed like he would come back again. It seemed like this wasn't suppose to be the last time I saw him. Afterward, my husband was killed in France in 1940. When he died, Adolf sent me one hundred red roses.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I sit here, now, listening to the radio. The man just said that Hitler is dead and I can't believe it. I feel a great sense of loss. How could he be dead? He died in the name of the one he loved most, and that was Germany. I now realize that my life was all about him. He was my first love. No one's life should be so dependent on the love of someone else. I wonder why I just started mourning now, my Wolf died many years ago.



Based on a true story
Maria Reiter
1911-1992

Second Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

Uninvited by Amanda Marrone. Simon Pulse, 2007. Genre: Fiction Novel.

The main character of Uninvited was a girl named Jordan. She was shy, dependent teenager until a boy named Michael Green moved into town. They got together over the summer and when school started, Jordan broke up with him. A couple of months later, Michael died. Everyone said that it was a suicide, but Jordan found out that it wasn't. He would come to her window every night and ask her to let him in. His visits made her feel stressed and she turned to drugs for an answer. After a while, we find out that Michael became a vampire and he wants to get revenge on Jordan for breaking up with him. One night, when he threatens to kill all of her friends, Jordan invites him in. He tells her that he will come in later and kill her when she's sleeping. Jordan and her friend Rachel follow him and they have an eventful fight. Michael ends up dieing and everyone that knew about him was relieved. Jordan grew a lot more independent throughout the book because of the hardships that Michael put her through.

"There are some great teen vampire novels around at the moment. This one is completely different from all the others, although it's equally wonderful. For a start, it's not really a 'vampire novel' at all, even though there's a vampire in it. The story is more about Jordan learning to cope with life, and it's beautifully written." From http://keris.typepad.com/chicklet/

At the beginning of Uninvited Jordan didn't really knew who she was. She was lost and had a low self esteem. On the "Social Food Chain" Jordan was near the bottom. Michael was a popular jock, which was why Jordan broke up with him. She saw the way everyone looked at her and she couldn't take the pressure. The author expresses all of this through flashbacks and conversations. All of her characters are very realistic and genuine. I want to compare this book to The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. The plot and setting aren't like it at all, but I believe they both have the same mood. I think that the characters of Michael and The Phantom are a lot alike. They are both trying to find a way to live in a world that doesn't except them. The moods of the book are alike because of this.

"I fumble with the screen, wishing I could make myself stop. I want to stop; a voice inside my head is telling me this isn't what I really want. My knuckles scrape roughly against the wire mesh; I pull my hand back, feeling the blood well up in the tiny scratches. I hear Michael moan; he must smell the blood. I stop searching for the latch and collapse against the screen, tears streaming down my face." (Page 86)

Once I started reading Uninvited I was immediately hooked. I couldn't put it down. This book held my attention from start to finish. I had never heard of this book or the author before, but my friend read it and recommended it to me. This book showed me how much drugs can control your life and how your friends are always there for you. It made me realize how good I've got it. Jordan's mother never payed much attention to her, which is why she got into drugs so easily. I'm glad my parents are interested in what I do and I'm happy that I've got good friends like Jordan's. This book made me more appreciative of what I have.

My project's links are underneath the D block links. It's titled Uninvited. I chose the homepage project(#11).