This is my first story, unleash your full wrath upon me.
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Death, death affects all of us, in one way, or another. You could say it affected me for better, and for worse. I lost my parents, the people I cherished above all things. But, it got me a chance to go where Ive always wanted to go. But Im getting ahead of myself, lets start from the beginning.

I've always tried my hardest, but I never wanted praise and recognition. I was able to easily get straight A's in elementary school; I mean really, elementary school isnt that hard. Nothing really to tell here.

But in middle school all the taunting for being smart It really got to me, and it got to the point where I eventually just finally snapped, I just couldnt handle the ridicule. I let my grades slip and I ignored the little voice in the back of my head that told me I should always strive to do my best. I would tell myself, Getting bullied is NOT worth it. I ended up going through middle school without a problem after my attitude change, all the bullying stopped. I always made sure I would get nothing higher than a B, or else I risked the teasing starting up again. I never spoke unless spoken too, I never raised my hand during class, and I never tried to socialize with anyone. In a way, you could say I was pretty much an anti-social throughout my middle school years.

Once I got to High school though, I just wanted to change my attitude towards everything. I wanted to get straight A's, make friends, get all the awards, and do all the extra credit, EVERYTHING. I pretty much wanted to make my parents proud to call me their son. There were a few road blocks in the way from me achieving my goals; one specific one was when I started noticing girls a little into the first semester. I started getting seriously distracted by them and it honestly was not doing me any good. I worked up the nerve to ask this one girl out, and she flat out rejected me. I was okay with that though, I would rather get rejected than always wonder what could have been. My grades started to increase and I started making friends.

Overall, my future was looking up. The friends that I did have werent fake, in the sense where they wouldnt leave me even at the drop of a pin. They genuinely cared for me, and I would take them over 1000 fake friends any day. My parents were proud to call me their son, heck, they would point me out and make other parents jealous of me, and you know, I was okay with it.

All the praise made me feel...loved. Then one night we were at a local crab house and things got out of hand. This one bullys dad got into a drunken fight with my dad when they were arguing over which sports team was better. My dad won, and sent the other guy out the door. The other guy showed up again, about twenty minutes later with a gun pointed to my parents heads. In the blink of an eye, they were taken away from me. I never got to tell them how much I loved them...

The doctors said they would have felt no pain when they died, that they were killed almost instantly, and that put me at ease a bit. At the funeral I shed so many tears; I swear I could have filled a lake with all the fluid I lost. My friends were there the whole way. They all even stayed at my house all night just to be there for me when I needed it. I loved them all so much, I gave each and every one of them the biggest hug I possibly could give and thanked each and every one of them, for just being there. It was probably one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life. I had to tell them I was leaving

Before my parents died, we were discussing me going to this private school across the country, in Vermont. The whole school was generally beautiful, they had all the classes I wanted to take, and the owner was a close friend of the family, Mr. Jefferson.

I only somewhat remember Mr. Jefferson. I remember that he had a daughter, who was a year younger than me, and that she was always adventurous. She would drag me out to go play around the woods that Mr. Jefferson owned. Other than that though, I couldnt really remember much about her. My parents would always take me on vacations to Mr. Jeffersons house in Vermont. I wish I could remember more about his daughter, and him, but money finally took its toll on us, and we couldnt visit them anymore, and we eventually grew distant.

Anyway, he said he would gladly accept me since I had the grades, but the tuition was killer for my family. It was a whopping seven thousand dollars, and my family just had no way to pay for it.

Then I met my god parents. They were filthy stinking rich; Im talking about 30 acres of land, a GIANT pool with a slide, suits of armor lined up in the halls, everything I could have only dreamed of having. As they were going to enroll me into the local public school in their town, I asked if I could go to the private school that Mr. Jefferson owned. They saw the tuition and started laughing at me. My heart dropped, I remember thinking to myself they have all this money, and they arent even willing to send me to a private school? I was just about to start openly crying when they told me they would split the tuition with me, and they offered me thirty five hundred dollars.

I discussed it with the Mr. Jefferson over a phone call, and he said there was a special program to those who needed it. I gladly accepted it with no hesitation, not knowing anything about the program. He told me that he would fill out all the necessary paper work and that he would send me a letter stating where I had to go to sign some paper work that couldnt get worked around, but I had to pay for my plane ticket to Vermont.

The letter simply said I was accepted into the school and that I had to find the main office on campus and speak to a Mr. Hixon to fill out some paper work and get my schedule and dorm number.

So here I am, on a plane headed to Vermont. I have a feeling that wherever my parents are, they are looking at me and nodding in approval. They wanted me to be successful, and they knew that this school would really help me achieve that. They told me they would pay the tuition without any second thoughts, but I knew our familys income, I knew that after I left, they would probably be living off of Ramen Noodles until I came back. They would live in poverty for so many years after I left, that I found it easy enough to say no whenever they asked me, and no matter how much they wanted me to go there, I would tell them no time after time.

Basically this is a new beginning for me. I was going to make my parents proud, I was going to study every night, make new friends, help people study, everything they wouldve wanted me to do without working myself into the ground. I was definitely going to make them proud.

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