Anyone that asked clove what he wanted to be when he grew up, would get a very excited "I want to be a doctor" from clove, clove did not state why he wanted to be a doctor to anyone, or why was it he even thought to be a doctor, of course no one really asked him. Clove thought these questions as he looked down at the blank paper, he had his pencil in hand, but the paper had no word on it not even a drawing. Clove looked around to see the rest of his classmates had already started, some where even done already, he looked out a window to see if he could tell what time it was, he looked back down at the paper and started to wright.
When I was younger, all I wanted to be was a doctor, I really didn't have a answer on why I wanted to be a doctor, or how i was going to be a doctor. I know I am going to have to study hard, to become a doctor, and the road ahead of me will not be a easy one either, this is my how to study hard, and pass all my classes that I can, to meet my goal of becoming a doctor. The why is the big one for me, why do I want to be a doctor? is it because I rather not follow my parent's, or sibling's? the thing it's neither, I want to be a doctor to help people, and I thought the best way to do this, is to make sure others are taking care of themselves, or if they are hurt to help them mend it, because no matter how you look at it you are always going to need, someone to help you.
Clove wrote his last sentence, and picked the paper up and looked it over, he made sure that there was no mistakes, and everything made sense. Clove smiled, and put his pencil down on the desk, before he walked up and handed his paper over to the person at the desk. Clove skipped backed to his desk, a little glad that that was off his chest, and hoped he would not have to do it again or rewrite it.
