September 9, 2013
June 15, 2012 was the date of my eighth grade graduation. I had a rough eighth grade year. I suffered with anxiety throughout that school year and the day of my graduation was another one of my bad days. Out of nowhere right before I was supposed to leave for my graduation I began to cry. I do not know why I cried. I just did. About two months leading up to my graduation I cried each day and my father was my biggest supporter and stuck by my side. Except for the day of my graduation. When he heard me crying, he flung open my bedroom door and starting yelling at me to hurry up and get in the car. He was yelling about how he was tired of my crying and that I needed to get over whatever I was crying about. Although he was right, I felt like he was my worst enemy that day for being so insensitive. The car ride there was very awkward but he drove me over to my school and I just waited for the ceremony to begin. I began to feel a lot better and comfortable once I saw my friends and started talking to everyone and hearing about their plans for the summer but my anxiety was still in the back of my mind.
Luckily my graduation was exciting and enjoyable for me. I was glad that I decided to go but I was still saddened about the idea that my father still did not understand me. I thought he was so wrong for what he did to me earlier. I could not believe that he did not take the time to
Rodriguez 2 ask what was wrong or try to help instead of yelling at me. Meanwhile all these thoughts were in my head, he insisted that to celebrate my whole family should attend a Dodgers game. My entire family are die-heart Dodgers fans who are always up for a day at the stadium. So after my graduation we headed to the stadium to see the boys in blue. This was another awkward car ride but once we got there the awkwardness completely went away. It was amazing to see all the athletes I look up to all in one place. My anxiety worries and my thoughts about my dad all went blank and I enjoyed my time at the stadium. My sister and brothers were all laughing and having a good time and at that moment my life was complete. Around the fifth inning a new pitcher started warming up in the bullpen so immediately I stood up to see who it was but instead my eyes were drawn somewhere else. Right in front of the bullpen was a little boy no more than five years old, dressed in all blue with a dodgers baseball cap. At first I did not notice him but as I walked closer to the bullpen I saw that under his cap was a young scared and bruised face. He was a burn victim. My heart dropped. I had so much sympathy for this little boy. I could not even imagine what caused him to get all those burn marks and scars on his face. I wanted to run up to him and hug him and never let him go. My eyes began to water. So many thoughts were running in my mind. How could god let this little child be hurt so badly? Imagine all the little kids who must point and laugh at him. I could not fathom the thought of someone being so cruel to him. It made me so mad just thinking about it. The whole rest of the