The Truth Board

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The Truth About the Fact: An International Journal of Literary Nonfiction

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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

The Truth About the Fact: A Journal of Literary Nonfiction is an international journal committed to the idea that excellence in the art of letters can play a vital role in transforming the planet we share.

Friday, February 15, 2013

The Bad Influence

“Hey Celia I don’t think my mom is gonna come soon.  We should walk home.”  Celia looked at me and frantically shook her head, “No! We should wait for your mom to pick us up.”   “She’s taking fooorrrever.  I know how to get home, come on.”  I was the middle child and she was the baby in her house. Apparently my influence of being an older sibling had an effect on Celia even though I was only seven.  “Ok…let’s go,” she softly replied.  Now I realize I was taking advantage of Celia’s delicate personality.
I met Celia in kindergarten when she didn’t have any friends.  Before school was over I saw her crying on a bench.  “Hey, why are you crying?”  “My mommy hasn’t come for me,” she replied.  “My mom isn’t here yet either.  I’ll wait with you while she gets here,” I told her.  Since that day I easily convinced Celia to trust me and my mom would give her a ride home.
“Ok, first we have to wait for the lights to show a white person so we can cross the street,” I told her.  She held my hand as we crossed.  “What if someone tries to take us?” she asked.  “My mom always told me to run and scream if a stranger approached me.  Don’t worry we’re almost home.”  Her home was just a street over mine so we had to go our separate ways.  “See I told you we could make it!  Now you go that way and I’ll go to my house.”  “But I’m scared,” she said.  “Your house is closer…go.” 
I saw my mom pull up into the driveway and she immediately approached me, “Why did you leave? I was worried about you and I told you to wait for me!”  “You were taking too long!” I replied.  I’ve never been afraid of punishments so I wasn’t worried about the consequences of my actions.  “Celia’s mom called me and she was very upset about what you did,” she said.  “So?”  The next day Celia approached me crying, “My mom punished me!”  “I’m sorry.  Don’t listen to me next time ok?” I told her.  “Okey dokey!”
Everything seemed simpler when I was a child and I continued to disobey my mom since I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the choices I made. Celia and I remained close friends until we no longer had the same classes together.  She moved during sixth grade and I never saw her again.  I just hope she managed to make her own choices without easily being influenced by others seeing as I feel I could have been a better friend.

Diana N.


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