Magazine P1 Student #11

Maricela Garibay:

an autobiography

My First Friend

I wouldn’t say that I made my first friend. I’d say he was handed to me on a
silver platter. In my memory there existed no before. He and I were were
friends when the word was not yet defined to us. Our mothers had been
friends long before we were born and naturally we grew close. We were
inseparable. There hadn’t been any room for us to grow apart because the
only distance was between his house and mine in the mostly vacant street,
and even that didn’t keep us apart. We yelled across the quiet road. We
played with toy cars and bugs and we climbed the same tree day after day.
Even when he started school a year before I, we remained friends. He was
my best friend, but like all good things it came to an end. Soon enough that
tree was cut down and the personal zoo forgotten. Too many jokes about the
fact he was a guy and I was a girl ultimately was the end of our friendship.
When I see him, there is only an exchange of awkward waves.

mirka amselmo

When I was in preschool I grew attached to a paint splattered easel which
rested on a tree, surrounded by many more just like it. The first few days of
school I was allowed the comforting company of my mother, but that was
over quick. Then I was faced with a dilemma. I knew I had to make friends,
but I didn’t know how. Then, one day at recess there was a girl painting next
to me. We didn’t speak. I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t even know her
name. When the bell rang to indicate the end of recess, the teacher spoke her
name. Mirka. I replayed it in my head over and over, too afraid of saying it
incorrectly. I kept repeating it until I felt confident enough to say it aloud,
and I did. We soon became friends. Although we have met a few bumps
along the road, she continues to be one of my good friends.

Houdini and the

Blanket

When I was about six or seven, I went on a trip to Mexico. The trip itself
was a great experience. I loved it. There was a freedom and sense of security
in running around the place my mother grew up in. When i got home, I
learned two things. Firstly, I had left my favorite blanket in Mexico. To this
day, I cannot express how attached I was to it. It was nothing special really.
It had been my sister’s before mine and would’ve probably been handed
down to my brother after I grew out of it. Except I had lost it. The night i
discovered my mistake, I cried. I cried until the tears lulled me to sleep. I
was only six. No one expected anything different. Then, I learned that my
pet hamster had died. His name was Houdini. I had named him myself. He
had been the only pet that had actually belonged to me. My uncle had been
watching him while we were gone. I was told that he overfed him and he had
died. Over time, I have developed my own theories about his actual cause of
death. One in particular involved my uncle’s new pet snake.Still, I do not
remember crying about my hamster. My six year old priorities valued my
blanket more than the life of a pet.

Middle School

When I was in the fifth grade, I had become quite comfortable in my school.
My last two years there I was a part of almost every extracurricular there
was. I finally felt like I belonged. hen middle school came along and the rug
was pulled out from underneath me. Everything I knew about the inner
workings of school was thrown out the window. Over time, I learned just
how much different it would all be. Teachers didn’t seem as understanding
and every adult always assumed you were up to no good. Friends were more
complicated, too. Most of the friends I had from elementary distanced
themselves from me and from each other. I had to make new friends.
Luckily, I met a girl in my PE class and I never had to worry again.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

My name is Maricela. I go by Mari most of the time. It’s easier for people to
pronounce and easier for me to distinguish myslef from my mother. My
father named me after her, despite my mother’s wishes. I have no middle
name because my mother does not either. I was born on December 30, 2003
at exactly 4:02. I was born in Torrance, but I have lived in Carson all my
life. I like to read and watch movies in my freetime.