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Dreams of the Brother – Essay

     Three in the morning and Randy woke up with a start, he'd been dreaming about cats again.  This was the fifth time in as many night.  They were getting to him, he'd always considered himself a dog person.  So,  he couldn't understand why he'd dream about cats.  The dreams were getting worse to.  It had started with just one cat, that's all.  One persistent, little Tabby, who wouldn't leave his dream that first night.  Now though, there were hundreds, thousands maybe.      They weren't nightmares.   Not really, not in the true sense.   They were just disturbing.   The cats never did anything, they just wouldn't leave him alone.   It was all becoming to much for him.   He decided to go downstairs and get a glass of milk.   Milk, he thought, wow far to close to a cat.   I think I'll have a soda.      In the kitchen, Randy's brother Jake was sitt...
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My Life in Writing

     If you can imagine being in prison, you can imagine being a victim of some torturous experiment, then maybe you can imagine how I felt about school when I was growing up.  Being dyslexic, I spent most of my time in school away from the regular kids in special classrooms.  The classrooms were small, so you could get one-on-one attention.  It doesn't sound so bad when you I say the teachers were nice, understand and always smiling.  But when your walking down a crowded hallway in school, and you have to enter the doorway, to your special class, it is indescribable.  You know that whoever sees you enter that room is going to label you as inferior.  To say that gives a kid an inferiority complex is such an understatement.  Its like saying that Babe Ruth was an average baseball player.  Dyslexia is not such a serious disability, being segregated from everyone is.      I'm proud of the things I accomplishe...
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