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i had another assignment to do. a personal statement really. i liked what i wrote enough to want to put it in my journal along with all the other stories. please enjoy it. this is the longer version.

Yet another semi-cloudy day was blessed upon Temecula Valley High School; the wind was comprised of warmth from the sun. There was excitement in the air as the students from grades nine to twelve noisily hustled into their fifth period classrooms. My stomach fluttered with passion and enthusiasm as I patiently waited to share with my fellow classmates, the results of my imagination and hard work. Little had I fantasized, that the results of my toils, would affect my life for the years to come.
It was second semester of my third year in high school when I had entered my hellhole of a class, English. The previous years in my life in an English class had been eventful and fun. Then my life was turned up-side-down, as the new English teacher set foot into the classroom. Not a day passed by that I had not felt the maelstrom inside me increase in momentum; and I, with little hope for my future, came crashing to a mental halt, wishing the turmoil would end. My only savior was the writing assignments inclined upon me. For it was during those blissful moments, that my mind was allowed the freedom to soar.
One of these simple writing pieces was to create a story of the writer’s choice. It was as if the chains that bound me to my inner most sufferings, had been temporarily extended. I began in bits and pieces to place together what it was that could only be seen in ones head. The story, slowly but surely, was created. And then the day had come to present my masterpiece to the class.
Odd, that the one teacher I could not stand, was absent that day; and in her place stood the most highly respected and dignified English teacher that I had never set eyes upon before. She looked average upon first glance. Her name was Mrs. Cutler and she appeared to be an averaged height, blond curly hair, middle aged woman. The special quality that she possessed was to lip read, for she is practically deaf. Little had I known at the time, that she was the head of the English department.
She quickly gained the respect of all the students, something the original teacher, had failed each day to do. Her methods were to treat each student as a young adult, and try to compromise with what each teenage had demanded. This intelligent creature, with her many years of experience, had set a halcyon atmosphere to the classroom, which allowed me to clear my mind and present the story that I so eagerly wished for.
As I began, the room hushed, and I knew my classmates were mine alone. I read with compassion, raising my voice when it was required. The young adults had been temporarily taken away to the world of my creating, the fantasy that I see, when I wish to be elsewhere. Each sentence causing their hearts to rush forward as they themselves visualized the images I implanted with my words. When I had finished, there was a pause in the room. It was Mrs. Cutler who broke the silence.
She had been deeply affected by my story, as had most the students. It was her advice afterwards that broke the fog of my future and set the fire to my true calling. The story had been “intense”. To hear the word come from her was like a god sent message for me. I now had a goal in life. My wish was to enchant people through my writing. If they wished to be in some other world of another time, I had the capability to take them there. This knowledge alone had filled me with so much inspiration, just as Mrs. Cutler’s words had.
Ever since that day, my path has been clear. I had heard my calling, and I had learned a secret talent I never knew I possessed; I was to be an author.