CSI - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Memories ❯ Fighting ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: jadeprincess 
Non Anime: CSI - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.20.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 669 | Visits: 313 | Status: Work In Progress
Non Anime: CSI - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.20.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 669 | Visits: 313 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, or any of its characters
A/N - Please Review, I would like to know what to improve.
Hidden Memories
Chapter 2
Is it true that grownups have a more difficult time than we do? No. I know it isn’t. Older people have formed their opinions and don’t waver before they act. It’s twice as hard for us young ones to hold our ground, and maintain our opinions, in a time where all ideals are being shattered and destroyed, when people are showing their worst sides, and do not know whether to believe in truth and right and God.
Anyone who claims that the older ones have a more difficult time here certainly does not realize to what extent our problems weigh on us, problems for which we are probably to young, but which thrust themselves upon us continually until after a long period of time. We think we’ve found a solution, but the solution doesn’t seem able to resist the facts which reduce it to nothing again.
That is the difficulties in these times: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us only to meet the horrible truth and be shattered.
Anne Frank
I’ve always remembered that excerpt from The Diary of Anne Frank. It was one of the few things I actually remember from class. I was always compelled by her words, how she saw the world and analyzed the truth.
I think it was because of how that how I felt mostly during my high school years, shifting from home to home, trying to find a logical explanation on why my parents did what they did.
It was the time in your life when life is supposed to be the best, an experience where most adults would give anything to have again. Even though it’s tough, most have managed to enjoy it. Unfortunately, I was not one of them.
As the few pictures in this scrapbook, I have few happy memories of high school.
Focusing all my time into my studies, I barely had time for anything else. I still remember the whispers, the girl with the mother who killed her father.
No one would speak to me, fearing they would be made fun of as well. After a while, I grew used to it and wouldn’t care anymore.
I grew unattached to the world, throwing myself into my studies. I wanted to excel, become the forensic scientist I always wanted to become. I wanted to use science to solve puzzles, the satisfied feeling you get after solving a challenging mystery. But most importantly, I wanted to save those who couldn’t save themselves.
I wanted to fight.
I think it’s funny how when you’re a kid all you want to do is grow up, and yet all the adults wish they were kids. Like a child desperately wanting to do everything themselves, I wanted to save the world.
But mostly, I wanted to save myself.
As I look back, I think my college years were the best of my life. It was then, that point in my life where I slowly learned to fight. I graduated high school at the age of 16, then being accepted into Harvard with a scholarship.
I made some friends, those with different interests, but loved me for who I was. I went to parties, started relaxing more, even started dating.
Even after leaving college, I still keep in touch with them now, calling every now and then, reminiscing about old times.
It was only until now that I realize it, while looking at my scrapbook, filled with plenty of pictures of friends and graduation.
I finally learned to fight.
A/N - Please Review, I would like to know what to improve.
Hidden Memories
Chapter 2
Is it true that grownups have a more difficult time than we do? No. I know it isn’t. Older people have formed their opinions and don’t waver before they act. It’s twice as hard for us young ones to hold our ground, and maintain our opinions, in a time where all ideals are being shattered and destroyed, when people are showing their worst sides, and do not know whether to believe in truth and right and God.
Anyone who claims that the older ones have a more difficult time here certainly does not realize to what extent our problems weigh on us, problems for which we are probably to young, but which thrust themselves upon us continually until after a long period of time. We think we’ve found a solution, but the solution doesn’t seem able to resist the facts which reduce it to nothing again.
That is the difficulties in these times: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us only to meet the horrible truth and be shattered.
Anne Frank
I’ve always remembered that excerpt from The Diary of Anne Frank. It was one of the few things I actually remember from class. I was always compelled by her words, how she saw the world and analyzed the truth.
I think it was because of how that how I felt mostly during my high school years, shifting from home to home, trying to find a logical explanation on why my parents did what they did.
It was the time in your life when life is supposed to be the best, an experience where most adults would give anything to have again. Even though it’s tough, most have managed to enjoy it. Unfortunately, I was not one of them.
As the few pictures in this scrapbook, I have few happy memories of high school.
Focusing all my time into my studies, I barely had time for anything else. I still remember the whispers, the girl with the mother who killed her father.
No one would speak to me, fearing they would be made fun of as well. After a while, I grew used to it and wouldn’t care anymore.
I grew unattached to the world, throwing myself into my studies. I wanted to excel, become the forensic scientist I always wanted to become. I wanted to use science to solve puzzles, the satisfied feeling you get after solving a challenging mystery. But most importantly, I wanted to save those who couldn’t save themselves.
I wanted to fight.
I think it’s funny how when you’re a kid all you want to do is grow up, and yet all the adults wish they were kids. Like a child desperately wanting to do everything themselves, I wanted to save the world.
But mostly, I wanted to save myself.
As I look back, I think my college years were the best of my life. It was then, that point in my life where I slowly learned to fight. I graduated high school at the age of 16, then being accepted into Harvard with a scholarship.
I made some friends, those with different interests, but loved me for who I was. I went to parties, started relaxing more, even started dating.
Even after leaving college, I still keep in touch with them now, calling every now and then, reminiscing about old times.
It was only until now that I realize it, while looking at my scrapbook, filled with plenty of pictures of friends and graduation.
I finally learned to fight.