“My social studies teacher is crazy and my Spanish teacher makes us sing songs with a bird called Pepito. So, there’s already a lot to overcome this year, but I feel I will need to overcome worse things.”
“Hey, what the hell, Connor!?”
“Alex, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” I plead hopelessly.
“Come on, Connor. Why did you pull the stupid home goalie!” he yells back.
“Alex, it’s just a game!” I respond, probably a bit too loud.
“Shut up, you two!” My dad yells from upstairs. Then we stop. After all, it was just a stupid X-Box game, and no one wanted to be yelled at by Dad, especially over NHL ‘14. I turn off the console and ask if Alex wants to throw a football.
It is September 17th 2015, the day before my birthday. I am almost twelve, living with my eight-year-old brother and our parents. I like school, but I hate the work. I go to Yorktown Middle School, or YMS for short. Seventh grade at YMS is like being in hell. My social studies teacher is crazy and my Spanish teacher makes us sing songs with a bird called Pepito. So, there’s already a lot to overcome this year, but I feel I will need to overcome worse things.
Baseball season is ending, and skiing is beginning. December is around the corner, and in December a lot of things happen: Chanukah, skiing and vacation to Mexico! Holiday break is tomorrow, and during 8th period Ms. Filner (my social studies teacher) gives the class a homefun packet. Homefun is homework, except better (apparently). Personally, the name doesn’t make a difference –– I HATE IT!!! I hate homework in general, and it makes me feel sick inside knowing that I have to go home and actually continue school for another hour and a half… Even if it’s homefun.
My first day skiing, ahh! Finally I am able to hit the slopes of Mt. Mohawk once again. I go up on the lift and start on a blue square. My brother and dad start on a green circle right next to it.
“Now, you be careful,” my dad says. Then I’m off! I go racing down the slopes at 40 miles per hour when I see a ski shack getting closer and closer.
WHAM!!! THUD!!! My skis go flying and I wipe out, unconscious of what is going to happen to me next.
“Connor, Connor, CONNOR!!!” someone whom I don’t know yells.
“Who are you? And who is Connor?” I ask.
“Stop playing games with us,” another mysterious person states.
“I’m not playing games, who are you!” I yell.
A third voice joins, a doctor this time, “Your name is Connor Allison, you are thirteen years old, you like to play baseball, and your parents tell me you have a ––”
“A thirst for knowledge! That’s the only thing I can remember about me.”
The voice that yelled “my name” earlier first says, “I am Bonnie, your mom, and the man standing right next to me is John, your dad.”
“I’m guessing this is my little brother right here,” I say, touching the boy’s head next to me.
“Yes, his name is Alex,” ‘my dad’ states.
“Doctor, what has happened to our boy?” ‘my mom’ asks.
The doctor says, “He has amnesia, but he can recover from it.”
We, as a family reunited (I memorized everyone’s name), walk out of the hospital. We are walking down 5th Street to get to our car when a boy that had walked by us dropped his books all over the pavement. I stood there for a second, analyzing the situation, and when I was sure I hadn’t known the boy before my accident I went to go help him pick up his books. After we had picked up all of his books he introduced himself.
“Hi, I am Aidan, what is your name?”
“My name is Connor, but I don’t remember anything.”
“Oh yeah, you’re the kid on the news with amnesia!”
I turn around then said, “Wait, Mom, it’s on the news?”
“Umm… yes, it is on the news,” she says.
“Why did you hide that from me?” I ask.
“We thought it would anger you, buddy. We’re sorry,” my dad interjects.
One hour later, when we get home, I walk in the house and see two tiny furry monsters at our doorstep.
“AHHH!!!” I yell.
My dad comes in, “Connor, what is it?”
“These two furry monsters!” I cry.
My mom says that they are just kittens and won’t hurt anyone. So, I agree, feeling a little suspicious, as I walk out of the kitchen to my room… whichever one that is. It takes me three tries but I find it. I climb into bed, but don’t go to sleep; I think about what will happen to me, and how I will get all of my knowledge back. Then, once I figure out the answer, I go to sleep.
“Connor, wake up!” My mom says.
I get up and look at all of the books strewn across my floor. My textbooks and my pleasure reading. I might have sleep read, if there is such thing. After eating breakfast, I get on the bus heading to school. At the high school stop, I get out of the bus. My bus driver, Nancy, asks where I was going and I say to school. She tells me this is the high school and I walk back on the bus.
At the middle school stop, I get off of the bus and I see Aidan. I go over to him and say, “Hi.”
“Hey, what’s up! How is your head?”
“Getting better,” I say, “How are things around here?”
“Okay… you know it is school, though.”
I have Spanish first period, and when I walk in, Seniora Peterson says,”Hola clase, tu tienes un examen hoy.”
I go up to her and say, “Seniora ––”
“Tu necesitas sentarme ahora. Tu tienes un examen.”
So I sit down and study the test. I have forgotten everything! This unit test is a total of 100 points! I am so screwed. It is all writing, so I cannot guess.
The same thing happened during eighth period. I forgot everything and got a perfect 0.0!!
Anyway, at the end of the day, when you walk to the buses you have to walk across the street. Aidan and I were walking together when, HONK HONK!!! WHAM! UGHH! CRRRUNCH!! AHHH!
I am dressed in all black for an occasion: the departure of my new friend Aidan. He pushed me out of the way of a car, and sacrificed his life for mine.
On the bright side, my grades have improved and I have gotten my memory back. It turns out that you don’t need a lucky charm to have a good life.