Page 217 of an 18 Yr Old's Autobiography

Ð'ÐŽKput down my pen and handed in my paper. The final examinations were over. 8th grade is finally over. My friends and I were ecstatic! It was only after our celebratory lunch as I left the restaurant when a simple thought struck me. I was going to be thirteen in five weeks.

A teenager, I was finally going to be a teenager. This would be a stepping stone to adulthood, to having control over my life. My whole future lay ahead of me and I looked forward to it with a mixture of excitement and a tinge of wistfulness. For though I would be stepping forward, I would no longer be the playful child that I was before. Instead of invoking my usual childlike giddiness I felt a myriad of emotions; happiness yet a sense of dread and worry. As a child I eagerly anticipated growing up and I never really understood what my elders meant when they told me to enjoy being a kid. It finally started to make sense. While being older meant more opportunities, it also meant more work, and more responsibility. My birthday was going to be a turning point, a transition from childhood to adolescence.

As I walked home, I reflected on how my life was changing and on all these choices that lay before me. What did I want do to with my life? I could see myself as an astronaut blasting into space, with Captain Picard at the controls. I then saw myself as a savvy reporter, not unlike Clark Kent, or I could become doctor, like one of the characters from ERÐ'ÐŽKÐ'ÐŽKÐ'ÐŽKso many choices, so much timeÐ'ÐŽK.the world seemed to be at my feet. Is this what happens when you turn thirteen?

A group of students from the university near my house passed by me, chattering and laughing away. As I turned to look at them I noticed a number of distinct features from the way they moved to the way they stood while waiting to cross the road. Such subtle mannerisms were displayed by the entire group. It made me ponder about how I would act as I grew older and if I would outgrow some of the things I loved the most. Would I be too mature to read comics? Would I still enjoy the same cartoons? Would serious films be more interesting?

I arrived home still in contemplation and turned on the TV. The show was about the complex life of a teenager. This was obviously a message. I called my cousin who just turned fourteen and voiced my thoughts to him.

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