Basic Statistics
Name: Brandon Lewis
Age:16
Nationality: American, Panamanian
Socioeconomic Level as a child: Middle Class
Socioeconomic Level as an adult:
Hometown: Michigan
Current Residence: Queens
Occupation: Student
Income:
Talents/Skills: Dancer, Singer
Salary:
Birth order: Middle child
Siblings (describe relationship):baby sister(they rarely interact)
Spouse (describe relationship):none
Children (describe relationship):none
Grandparents (describe relationship):Extremely close with his grandparents
Grandchildren (describe relationship):none
Significant Others (describe relationship):none
Relationship skills: shy but talkative
Physical Characteristics: 5’8
Height:5’8
Weight: 140 pounds
Race: African American
Eye Color: brown
Hair Color: black
Glasses or contact lenses? None
Skin color: brown
Shape of Face: round
Distinguishing features: hairline, lips
How does he/she dress? Casual, straight jeans with a cardigan
Mannerisms: chivalrous
Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.) bites nails
Health: good health
Hobbies: video games, hanging out with friends and sleep is really important to him
Favorite Sayings: I don’t care
Speech patterns: southern accent and he stutters a little
Disabilities: none
Style (Elegant, shabby etc.):Average style
Greatest flaw: Extremely nice
Best quality: Sensitive, sweet
Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes
Educational Background:11th grade
Intelligence Level: aware, average intelligence
Any Mental Illnesses? Dyslexic
Learning Experiences:
Character's short-term goals in life: get through high school
Character's long-term goals in life: wherever life takes him, doesn’t have a plan
How does Character see himself/herself? Open-minded
How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others?
How self-confident is the character? From 1-10, maybe a 7
Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? Emotion
What would most embarass this character? Talking about his learning disability
Emotional Characteristics
Strengths/Weaknesses:
Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert
How does the character deal with anger? Takes it out on his surroundings
With sadness? Ignores it
With conflict? Ignites it
With change? Abstains from change
With loss? Stay alone
What does the character want out of life? Wants to live alone or with his grandfather
What would the character like to change in his/her life? The people, then himself
What frightens this character? The future
What makes this character happy? Being alone and thinking to his self
Is the character judgmental of others? No
Is the character generous or stingy? Very generous
Is the character generally polite or rude? Generally polite
Spiritual Characteristics
Does the character believe in God? Believes that there is a higher power but doesn’t have a specific religion
What are the character's spiritual beliefs? Unsure
Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life? Not exactly
If so, what role does it play?
What does this character want?? Need? Wish? Hope?
This character wants to escape from this complicate life that he lives right now. He wants to go away, alone and separated from the world so that he can figure out himself. Then after, he can try to understand life.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Journal 5
The hard covered books were the only things standing between life and death and her heavy breathing and sweaty palms were'nt much help. She slowly dropped to her knees and crawled to the other row where the books were even thicker and covered most of the shelves. It follwed her every move but five times faster. She was determined but her heart and mind were slowly deteriorating every second she found a new hiding place. She stumbled to a corner where lights dimmed every half second and it drowned her with nervousness. The timer finally hit zero and the truth choked her till death.
Monday, October 11, 2010
In Media Res -Journal 3
Phillip, the engineer grabbed the two bottles of martini that stood attractively next to him and drank his problems away to death. The next day, Flight 29 landed on the greenest grasses in New Zealand by accident carrying 329 passengers. With phillip to blame for not ensuring that there was enough fuel in the tank, everyone faces turned upside down and they filled the plane with tears. Suddenly, a dark skinned man, with no muscles and sea blue overalls on walked up to the pilot and said "I can fix this". The pilot asked for his name and he pointed to his crooked name tag that said "Eric, pool cleaning services". Eventually, after all awkwardness was finished, he climbed onto the back of the plane and poured two different types of cleaning agent that made the engine restart and the plane continued its journey.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Rough Draft 2
Smithdale, New Hampshire, a small town with explosive trees and molded green leaves that stole the little sunshine we would ever receive, narrow roads that held only one street light per block, dim personalities that left everyone neighbor-less was where I was placed my entire life. I lived on 666 meadow drive next to an old abandoned warehouse that was taken over by spider webs and vultures. That house and I became best friends in a short period of time. Whenever I approached my house, dark red daffodils that slept on the ground, crooked pavements that looked welcoming and the horrid smell of uncut grass all greeted me. In many ways I felt I belonged there because it reflected my barbaric appearance. I had angry, dark brown curls that had a mind of its own, intelligent eyes with long lashes, a small nose, chapped lips and big ears. My appearance simply reflected my dark, desolate and dull neighborhood. Eventually, by the age of 14, I accepted my looks and understood that those were the reasons I walked alone for three years in high school. I was a hurricane, I stole the smiles off faces, dampened days with a downpour of rain and that was one of the nicer compliments I would receive from my parents. I had a room of my own and my bed was rather small. The warehouse was directly across from the only window in my room and looking through it, I could see my reflection on the giant mirror on building. Whenever there was a full moon, it would reflect on the mirror and I’d always close my eyes and hope when I’d re-open them I could be in heaven but it never works and I remained hopeless.
I was never a light sleeper and my mom would push me off the bed and that would be my alarm clock. After some years, it became routine and the pain would turn into a more desirable feeling and at some point I felt I deserved it for not waking up on my own. Before school, I usually drink water and walk the forty blocks to first period. Sacred Heart high school was an all girl school filled with experimental girls and a rigid social hierarchy where I was first place at the bottom. Although I didn’t want the attention because of all the crosses on my body, I’d still imagine what a friend felt like.
The coldest day of winter, March 4th, it was seven degrees below and the hall ways seemed smaller than ever before.
The Nurse’s office was like a never ending path and I had to be there before 3rd period bell rang. The lockers were a painter’s creation and it all seemed to be a part of a grey illusion. At this point, my brain froze and my melted. Nothing was the same except that it was my birthday. On my journey, I thought about all my previous birthdays and how all I wanted was to be rescued. And for some strange reason I knew this birthday, things would be different. I saw the light in the office as I drew closer to the door and I couldn’t think of the perfect excuse. It was between number twenty-five, burning myself with the iron or number thirteen, falling on the concrete pavement. Unfortunately, I have used #25 too often so #13 had to be a good story. Finally I reached my destination and as turned the door knob slowly and took about five steps into the office, Miss Ronclark barked a “how are you? You got here quick” directly at my face. I said my usual “I’m fine”, raised my eyebrows and sat on the bed.Smiling at her, I tried to kick the nervousness out my body and welcome a more relax feeling. She looked back with a pathetic smirk saying “this is your 47th time in my office in three months, “What’s going on?” I grinned and said “I guess I’m just extremely clumsy” and looked down. She threw at look of disbelief at me and told me to tell my parents to come in to have a talk with her. I gave her my real address, took the key, released the chains and flew with doves.
I was never a light sleeper and my mom would push me off the bed and that would be my alarm clock. After some years, it became routine and the pain would turn into a more desirable feeling and at some point I felt I deserved it for not waking up on my own. Before school, I usually drink water and walk the forty blocks to first period. Sacred Heart high school was an all girl school filled with experimental girls and a rigid social hierarchy where I was first place at the bottom. Although I didn’t want the attention because of all the crosses on my body, I’d still imagine what a friend felt like.
The coldest day of winter, March 4th, it was seven degrees below and the hall ways seemed smaller than ever before.
The Nurse’s office was like a never ending path and I had to be there before 3rd period bell rang. The lockers were a painter’s creation and it all seemed to be a part of a grey illusion. At this point, my brain froze and my melted. Nothing was the same except that it was my birthday. On my journey, I thought about all my previous birthdays and how all I wanted was to be rescued. And for some strange reason I knew this birthday, things would be different. I saw the light in the office as I drew closer to the door and I couldn’t think of the perfect excuse. It was between number twenty-five, burning myself with the iron or number thirteen, falling on the concrete pavement. Unfortunately, I have used #25 too often so #13 had to be a good story. Finally I reached my destination and as turned the door knob slowly and took about five steps into the office, Miss Ronclark barked a “how are you? You got here quick” directly at my face. I said my usual “I’m fine”, raised my eyebrows and sat on the bed.Smiling at her, I tried to kick the nervousness out my body and welcome a more relax feeling. She looked back with a pathetic smirk saying “this is your 47th time in my office in three months, “What’s going on?” I grinned and said “I guess I’m just extremely clumsy” and looked down. She threw at look of disbelief at me and told me to tell my parents to come in to have a talk with her. I gave her my real address, took the key, released the chains and flew with doves.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Rough Draft
Smithdale, New Hampshire, a city with explosive trees, narrow roads,dim personalities and no hope was where I was place for my entire life. I lived on 666-66 meadow drive nect to an old abandoned warehouse. Dark red daffodills that slept of the ground, crooked pavements that looked welcoming and the horrid smell of uncut grass described the best looking house on the block and I was lucky enough to live there.
In maany ways i felt i bongedthere because iitreflected my barbaric appearance. I had angry dark brown curls that had a mind of theown, inttelligent eyes, a small nose and chapped lips. These were reasons I walked alone for three years in highschool. I was a hurricane, I stole the smiles off people's faces and dampered their days with rain and that is why I was a ciminal according to my father.
I had a room of my own and my bed was rather small but i got used to it. I was never a light sleeper and my mom would push me off the bed and that would be my alarm clock. After several years it became routine and at some point I felt i deserved it for not waking up on my own. Before school, I usually eat cereal and walk the forty blocks to first period. Cresent High School is an all girls schooled filled with experimental girls and a rigid social hiearchy where I was First place at the bottom.
On march 4, the hallways seemed smaller than ever before. The nurse's office was four miles farther than yestrday. The lockers were a painter's creation and it all seemed to be part of this confusing illusion. My brain froze and my body melted. Nothing was the same that day despite the fact that it was my birthday. On my way to the office, I decided to think about all my precious birthdays and the gifts that I have ever received. I always expected what my gift would be but I'd always cry and that day would be unforgettable. This birthday, However, things would change, I just feel it. Five minutes away from the plain white door that was dependent on my future, I couldn't even think of the perfect excuse. It was between burning myself with the iron or falling on the pavement. Unfortunately I burnt myself with the iron too many times this year so the pavement story had to be good. As I turned the door knob and took about five baby steps into the room, Mrs Ronclark barked a "how are you ?" directly at my face. I said my usual "I'm Fine" and sat on the bed. Smiling at her, I tried to kick the nervousness out my body and welcome a more relaxed feeling. She looked me with a pathetic smirk saying "this is your 47th time in my office in 3 months. "what's going on?" I grinned and said I guess I'm just extremely clumsy. She denied that answer and told me that my parent should come in to have a talk with her. Unfortunately for her, my mom is an alcoholic and my father beats me so they are pretty much occupied.
In maany ways i felt i bongedthere because iitreflected my barbaric appearance. I had angry dark brown curls that had a mind of theown, inttelligent eyes, a small nose and chapped lips. These were reasons I walked alone for three years in highschool. I was a hurricane, I stole the smiles off people's faces and dampered their days with rain and that is why I was a ciminal according to my father.
I had a room of my own and my bed was rather small but i got used to it. I was never a light sleeper and my mom would push me off the bed and that would be my alarm clock. After several years it became routine and at some point I felt i deserved it for not waking up on my own. Before school, I usually eat cereal and walk the forty blocks to first period. Cresent High School is an all girls schooled filled with experimental girls and a rigid social hiearchy where I was First place at the bottom.
On march 4, the hallways seemed smaller than ever before. The nurse's office was four miles farther than yestrday. The lockers were a painter's creation and it all seemed to be part of this confusing illusion. My brain froze and my body melted. Nothing was the same that day despite the fact that it was my birthday. On my way to the office, I decided to think about all my precious birthdays and the gifts that I have ever received. I always expected what my gift would be but I'd always cry and that day would be unforgettable. This birthday, However, things would change, I just feel it. Five minutes away from the plain white door that was dependent on my future, I couldn't even think of the perfect excuse. It was between burning myself with the iron or falling on the pavement. Unfortunately I burnt myself with the iron too many times this year so the pavement story had to be good. As I turned the door knob and took about five baby steps into the room, Mrs Ronclark barked a "how are you ?" directly at my face. I said my usual "I'm Fine" and sat on the bed. Smiling at her, I tried to kick the nervousness out my body and welcome a more relaxed feeling. She looked me with a pathetic smirk saying "this is your 47th time in my office in 3 months. "what's going on?" I grinned and said I guess I'm just extremely clumsy. She denied that answer and told me that my parent should come in to have a talk with her. Unfortunately for her, my mom is an alcoholic and my father beats me so they are pretty much occupied.
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