Ben X review

Bullying is common nowadays. Starting from playful banter, it can range from small jokes to severe mockery. However, the intensity of the bullying does not matter when it comes to the damage the victims gets. No matter how much you mean it, the person in the focus of the bullying will be damaged, severely.

Ben X portrays a boy suffering from autism who also suffers from school bullying. Ben finds a solution, which was to fake suicide.

A fake suicide.
In the movie, it works because it was touching. However, how is it going to apply in real life? Was faking suicide a real solution to his bullying problems? What did he get from faking suicide? The bullies, yes, might have felt embarrassed for a few days. But that does not change anything. That does not change anything at all. Everything is going to go back to normal. It's a matter of time before Ben becomes the target of the criticism and mockery. This time, the crowd will be bigger because he has made a scene nation wide.

Ben's suicide made many people worry about him. They thought he committed suicide for real. They felt sorry for ignoring him, underestimating him, and making fun of him. But then, he comes back smiling ever so brightly. If I were one of the guests in his funeral, I might have been furious. Was he joking? Dying and killing oneself is nothing to joke around with. However, Ben did make a progress in telling his classmates that he matters in this world too, that he knows how to think, that he has feelings, too. But the problem isn't that simple. The students need to "understand," not be told. Just by showing them video clips of Ben with his pants off will not make a lasting influence in them. They must feel with their own skins the severity of the crime they committed. They must see with their own eyes what their actions are going to cost them. Feeble-minded video clips do no good.

How do we get rid of bullying? Is there an effective solution? Well, no. It cannot be solved for it is very hard to enlighten a bunch of students who act the same with others. Most of the students in Ben's class probably made fun of him just because a few kids instigated the whole "making fun of Ben" thing. Those students who lead the line in harassing others are not capable of thinking about others. Adults so easily think that adequate amount of scolding and educational video clips will do the thing for them. Nonsense. Kids nowadays are more evil than what adults assume. They know how to lie, they know how to hide. They "know" how to make others suffer without getting caught. They cannot be stopped by easy behaviors of the adults. They must be punished for what they did. They must learn that they, too, will receive the same treatment they did to the weak. Eye for an eye. It is the most effective solution. We have to think about the damages the bully victims suffer from. We have to learn their agonies. The only thing that the the school and the officials can do is to execute the bullies. Punish them by law. Nothing else will work for a long time.

A needed moral?

     Ever since I entered KMLA, all I could hear from people around me was the importance of bowing to the elders. As a freshmen, I was somewhat forced to bow 90 degrees to the juniors, seniors, and teachers, even at times I did not want to. But the weird thing is that no one opposed to the idea of bowing. Everyone took it as the important Korean tradition that our school is trying to preserve.
     But yes, I do not like to bow. It hurts my back and it is really hard to bow to every single person you encounter on the road. Besides, I do not even know the person I am bowing to. Why should we, why should I show courtesy to people that I do not know, just because that person is older than me? Is this "Korean moral" so important for us to preserve? Doesn't it just serve as a barrier that exists between generations?
     Even as a person living in 21 century, I feel uncomfortable showing my own opinion to people who are older than me. Even at times when I am definitely sure that they are wrong and that I am right, I am afraid to show my thoughts in case I might seem rude. The case of Korean Air was the same. The barrier existing in the name of Korean moral has restricted us from hearing voices of all people. The Korean moral should stay as a tradition. It is not worth to preserve, risking more important values such as active participation of all people.

What a pig

     Metaphorically speaking, she is a pig. Everyday I would see her and talk with her and every single time I regret trying to make a conversation with her. I talk about the new shopping mall and she answers with "So which school are you going to apply for early admission?" I talk about this cute guy and she utters "Well, he's an idiot. He can't even speak English properly." Get a life, girl!
     The problem started to burst out as soon as she became my roommate. I could not help. The system randomly mixed and matched kids for no reason whatsoever. I had to face it. There we were, awkwardly looking at each other - or maybe it was only me who did so. Days and nights she annoyed me, getting me on my nerves. It was not an action or a speech she made; it was she herself who pissed me off from the bottom of my heart. I simply could not stand her.
     It all happened in the third week we lived together. I was enjoying some of my snacks. Then, suddenly she came over to me and ordered me to give her half of them. I told you before that she is a pig. She literally is a pig, she weighs like hundred something kilograms. Now that was really annoying of her to do so, but I didn't want to have a fight so I gave her some of them. But then she was like,"Are you kidding? I said HALF of them. Do you think this is half?"I said, "Yes" very coldly. She seemed to be very surprised. Of course, I hated her inside, but I never expressed it. So she probably did not know my feelings for her.
     I thought this was the moment to talk to her seriously about her problems and my frustration. With a profound courage, I uttered a powerful message, "I think you suck." This unrefined language was probably the most refined one I could say. By doing so, I achieved the goal at the same time, yet made a more serious problem. Pig became a boar. I literally saw the transformation. Her face torted hideously, her hundred kilogram body rippled violently, a dark aura appeared in her presence, and I could have sworn that horns grew out  of her head. Then, without warning,

Why uChicago essay

Option 3: Spanish poet Antonio Machado wrote, "Between living and dreaming there is a third thing. Guess it" Give us your guess.

     To live is to act. It is to do something, anything at all that involves physical movements. A living creature will constantly walk, crawl, swim, or squirm to get to somewhere or just for no reason. Living is moving.

     To dream is to think. It is to use the brain to think about something, anything at all that comes to mind. A dreaming creature will constantly use its brain to make plans or remember something or just for no reason. Dreaming is thinking.

     For most people, the connection between acting and thinking is smooth. It flows from one side to the other without much difficulty. The two worlds exist as if they are same entities, so some people are able to act and think at the same time. However, sometimes, the interaction does not occur so naturally. There is something between living and dreaming that interrupts the flow. It is not something obsolete and concrete, for most of the times it does not exist. Then what could it be? What would be the barrier that filters connection intermittently? What causes people to halt between thinking and carrying out what they thought?

     Brain farting is to be confused. It is to forget something, something as trivial as going to sleep, unintentionally. Like regular farting, Brain farting does not occur with a pattern. It just happens some time of the day without any warning. The brain fart zone exists between living and dreaming as a semi permeable film.

     Have you ever had an experience when you open the refrigerator door and realize that you don’t remember what you were going to do? Have you ever suddenly forgotten to ride a bicycle, something that you were so good at before? Have you ever looked at your best friend’s face and just before you were going to call her name, you do not remember what it was? Yes, your brain was farting back then, exuding gases everywhere in your brain.

     To live is to act, to act is to know what you are doing, to know is to have thought about it before, and to think is to dream. However, somewhere in this process your brain might decide to take a break and let out a squeak.

Why Johns Hopkins essay

Johns Hopkins offers 50 majors across the schools of Arts and Sciences and Engineering. On this application, we ask you to identify one or two that you might like to pursue here. Why did you choose the way you did? If you are undecided, why didn't you choose? (If any past courses or academic experiences influenced your decision, you may include them in your essay.)

     I love my family, I love my friends, and I love my teachers. I love a lot of things, from cats to debating. But what is love? Is it an emotion that you feel when you extremely like something or somebody? Or is it an abstract concept which cannot be explained in words? Then, how do you love? Does something spark in your heart? Or do you just know that you are in love? How can love be explained?

     I believe it can be explained by the chemical reactions in our brains. Seemingly unromantic, but I believe that our bodily functions cannot “just happen.” So many concepts, so many ideas about us remain unknown and unexplained and I feel obliged to find out the reason and the cause of such reactions. I want to learn how our brain functions and find out ways to relieve ourselves from stresses which originate from unwanted emotions. And I know that Johns Hopkins University offers such chances.

     Johns Hopkins University’s premed program will prepare me for the basics of human functions. These basics will help me to step up to my goal of studying psychiatry. Because I believe that all the stress and disease resulting from mental problems can be cured, I want to take part in finding out how.

Culture of Honor

     The "culture of honor" in Harlan, Kentucky gave me a lot of thoughts. The basic idea goes like this: because the sheepherders were always exposed to the dangers of their herds being stolen, they had to be in constant stress and had to be violent in order to show that they are not weak. And this had to do with the cultural influences they  gained from their homeland, Kentucky.
     From the following experiment of young men walking in the corridor also shows that people from the South tended to show more aggression than people from North.

     Does this "culture of honor" apply to Korea, too? I sure think it does. Because Korea has always been some what isolated from the "outside world," we have gained a significant sense of unity. Because we considered our Korean blood as pure and undisturbed, we got extremely mad when we thought we were called inferior..

------------------------------------------------
I don't really get what I'm saying right now. I think the book was good, though.

Essay Forum website

http://www.essayforum.com/

We could post our essays here, maybe?

The last time I cried

Before you start, I want to tell you that I got pretty emotional while writing this so all the sentences might not connect with each other.
I feel like crying NOW - all my bones and muscles ache from today's cheerleading T.T
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     I cry a lot. I cry when my shoulders hurt really badly and when I have too much homework to do. I cry when I do not feel like doing something that I absolutely know that I should. I cry when I miss somebody that I haven’t contacted for quite a long time or when I suddenly remember an embarrassing incident. Sometimes, I cry for no reason, too. I feel my eyes well up in the middle of a conversation they I was actually enjoying. But all these cries are not the same. Sometimes a single tear would do the job and sometimes I would have to cry until I cannot cry any longer.

     Since I frequently cry, I do not remember that well of the “last” time I cried. But I certainly do remember the last time I cried my heart out. It was last year’s November – all the students were preparing for the Minjok Sarang Concert.

     I became the head chief of our school’s one and only musical club, Stars on Stage (SOS), in September. So eager to start my year, I planned to take extra good care of our members and draw out the best result we could make. I knew that we had a concert in November, so I decided to set things straight. I asked the members to voluntarily participate for the concert for only those who really want to do it. Only few of us remained so we had to ask people outside of our club to join us. The procedure took a long time, therefore not leaving us enough time to practice for the performance.

     Two of our members wrote the fifteen minute script for us to perform. It had all the lines and songs to compactly portray the musical we were playing – “Hairspray.” We had an expert musical actress to coach us with our singings and our dance routines. We did the best we could for about two or three weeks. It did improve, yes it did, but it was not enough to perform on the stage. We knew in our hearts that this could end up being a humiliation. Then we perform for the rehearsal, two weeks before the concert. All the students were watching us. And yes, we did sort of end up as something to make fun of. I wasn’t so heartbroken then, although I did spent the whole nights up straightening out the scripts, making dance routines, and teaching the members about them. I was tired, though. I felt that I was the only person who eagerly wanted to make this performance a success. I wanted to do it, but with whom? Who was with me? Well, I’m still not so sure about that even until now.

     The result of the rehearsal was rather terrifying. Our performance, which was supposed to be the first play in the second scene, was put off to the third. And for the worse, our performance time was shortened to seven minutes. We were supposed to do a musical performance in “seven minutes.” It brought all the members down. Most of us did not even feel like doing this whole nonsense anymore. I, too, felt very much depressed. But still, I did not cry.

     We had to start all over again. We threw away the script we had and we started a whole new performance consisting of four songs and no lines. The dance routine had to be remade due to the new songs. We had to do it in two weeks. I literally did not have time to sleep, for I was in charge and I had the responsibility to make this alright.

     The first week was a disaster. All the members had to memorize four songs and our coach was constantly scolding us for not paying attention, being off-key, and not big voice and yatty yatty yatta. I had to stay up all nights choosing costumes and calling the rental services for the size of the costumes and renting fees. I had to stay up all nights assigning each of the lyrics to each member. The songs themselves had to be edited, which was a hard procedure. There was way too much burden. I felt like crashing down.

     On the next practice I burst into tears, or rather, I exploded into tears. We were severely told off because we kept on complaining about all the things – the time, the songs, the dance routines, and the concert itself. The coach yelled at us for being rude and stupid.

     I spent months preparing for this whole thing. I spent all my time and effort on it, even on times I knew that this wouldn’t work out well. I had hope that someday the members would understand all the hard works that I had to do. I put up with all the complaints – “I don’t like this costume,” “I want longer lines,” “I have a big quiz so I cannot come to the practice.” I smiled and again thought of alternative plans with no one helping me. I tried to look cheerful even though I felt like punching every single one of them in the face. And what do I get? WHAT DO I GET FOR ALL THESE CRAP I HAD TO DO? Well, I would have preferred getting nothing. But I did get something. I got, ta-da, a finger in my face! How wonderfully ironic.

     I cried because I felt sorry for myself. All my work was done for the goodness of our club, for the success of our club. I tried so hard to make it work. Through the tears I told every single member what I thought. I told them to quit it now, if they didn’t want to do it. And a girl managed to point at my face and yell “YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY THAT.” Well? You, missy, don’t have the right to stay in my f***ing club.

10,000 hour rule

     Malcome Gladwell has made a point that almost every person known for his or her excellent talent in an area has had a practice time for about 10,000 hours. He gives examples like Mozart and the Beatles. However, I believe that this rule of 10,000 hour has an error.
     People just don't go do something for such a significant amount of time just because they got a chance to and just because they had to. For instance, because Beatles had to work in a bar which required them to play for endless hours, they got super good. However, Gladwell did not really take into account of how much they actually enjoyed playing music. For Mozart, too. He did not start composing songs since an early age just because he was forced to (well, at point some yes). He liked, or rather loved, music.
     Just practicing something for 10,000 hours is not going to make you good. I learned violin for six years but I hated the every single second I was holding it and so, I could not play it until now. I believe the "Rule of liking" comes before the "10,000 hour rule."

Story about fear

     I have to. All I have to do is open the door, step outside, and walk a few meters. But I remain in my seat thinking of excuses for why I don’t necessarily have to. I have loads of works to do and they will keep me busy all through the night. My place is so warm and I know that outside will be cold as hell and I do not have that much of clothes on. I will freeze to death or at least, catch a cold. My legs are sore and I have a headache. Walking will only make them worse. Well, now I have to stay here because going outside will only harm me.

     But I have to. My forehead starts to bear out sweat and my hands are getting all clammy. I clutch my pencil with a tight fist and try to concentrate on my homework. But all the words are just a big glob of blur. Letting go of what I have in my hands, I search for my MP3 in my bag clumsily. I’ve got it. I cram the earphones in my ears. The music starts to flow but only to unsettle my heartbeat. I throw the MP3 on the bed. I look up. All I can see is the white ceiling with a few streaks of stains. I look down. My feet are tapping uneasily, making small arrhythmic sounds. I again think of the reasons. But now, they are not good enough. I know I have to do it.

     I stand up and walk towards the door. I put my ear on the crack, trying to hear something. But the only sounds I can hear are the ticking of the clock and the thumping of my heart. I push hard on my chest so that the sound would cease. It wouldn’t quiet down. Frustrated, I give a strong punch on it.

     My clammy hand is now holding the door knob. I wish I could go back to the time when all it had to hold was a pencil. It’s all slippery, giving an indecent touch. Biting, or rather chewing my lips, I put strength little by little on my hand. The door creaks open.

     The darkness flows into my room and much of the light I have saved in here leaks out into the infinite shadows of night and loses its way. I peek outside only to see nothing. I frantically search for other reasons why I don’t necessarily have to go. But I have to.

     With a quick swing of the door I push myself out of my safety zone and run for the destination and run for it and run. My swerving hands find another door push it open turn on the light and close it right behind me.

Breathing heavily, I look around. The sink, the tub, the shampoo, and the soap are all in their places, peacefully as ever. They seem to look in the same direction. I move my eyes and there, I find what I was so desperately looking for. I see the white bowl of relief, of comfort, of heaven.

Now I can go.

Personal essay - revised version (1)

In the Right Place, on the Track

12v3 101039 Da Yeon Ryoo

     A speck of dust on my desk will be enough to get me going. Cookie crumbs on the floor will immediately put a broom in my hand. Always after visiting someplace, a long and good shower is needed for me to feel comfortable again.

I am a cleaning-addict.

     There is a rule I have for cleaning: I believe there is a right place for every object to belong. When I clean, I put those objects in their places – it’s as simple and easy as that. Books are organized by height and cosmetics according to use. The closet is tidied color wise, starting from reddish clothes to blackish ones. And when certain things are out of their original spots, I get uneasy feelings until I clean them up.

Why am I so obsessed with getting things neat? Well, I believe it’s because of the time when I was in middle school. Back then, I was uncontrollable. I rejected all the rules that came upon me and rebelled to the authorities trying to settle me down. I had my own way of acting and that way was “no way.” I slept during classes and when I was not, I read comic books or sent text messages to my boyfriend. I befriended the school bullies and took part in their activities such as carving swear words all over the school and harassing those kids who looked nerdy. I did not know where I was heading to in my future. I did not have much thought.

But then I had a huge ugly fight with my parents. They were unhappy about me having a boyfriend and hiding it away from them. They did not want me to continue dating him because he was too old for me and also because I had to serve my duties as a student. I plugged my ears while standing in front of them and yelled at them that I did not care. I yelled that I am going to do want I want to do and that only. Then the most heartbreaking incident even until now happened. They cried.

I could not sleep that night. I had to think about what went wrong with me, from when and how. I thought of the reckless actions I did for the past years. I thought about my parents’ tears. It was the first time they cried in front of me. Then I realized that I had nothing inside me to judge myself upon. I was lacking the order and rules. And I needed them. I decided that night that I am going to make rules for myself.

     The first priority that I put was studying. My grades were abysmal and they had to be saved badly. I started to regard classes seriously and I never slept in class again. I previewed and reviewed the text until I understood it completely. I set a goal, too. I wanted, for the first time in my life, to be one of the top ten students in the school. Although it seemed impossible, the thought of being in that place kept me going. My grades sky-rocketed and the people around me started to see me differently.

     My next big step was to make a lot of friends. While keeping in good relationship with my formal bad-buddies, I tried hard to talk to other students that I previously never even looked at. I asked them questions about the class and I offered them to eat lunch with me. It did not work out that well, actually, regarding all the horrible things I did to them before. However, I at least succeeded in showing them that I was a different person.

     Around this time I started cleaning because I learned how much tidying and keeping things in order can improve me. I found out the right place for me and it was time to find the right places for the things surrounding me so that I would never let myself down and messy again. I was on my track and until now I am running on it as vibrantly as ever.

Thoughts after reading "Outliers" (1)

     The first chapter of the "Outliers" stresses the importance of receiving the right chance and luck to be developed ahead of your mates. The examples Malcome Gladwell uses are athlete groups, where players born in earlier months of the year have better chances of becoming champions. While I was reading this part, I immediately thought of the education system of Korea and how it pushes the students to study ahead of the right course.
     Thinking about the past, I was always encouraged and somewhat forced by the parents and my school to study ahead of the year's course. Even when I was in elementary school, I learned the fifth grader's texts when I was still in the third grade. However, I was not the rare case. All the students studied in private institutions or by themselves about the courses that they were going to study in the next two or three years. It was the trend back then and it is still going on until this day. When a teacher teaches something at school, majority of the students already know about it because they have studied it beforehand.
     I figured that this might be the reason why Korean (generally Asian) students are regarded as smart. Because of the high educational standards, Korean students start to learn mathematics or english earlier than other students in other parts of the world. Because we get a head-fast start, we are able to keep the lead through all of our school lives.
     I think I would be interesting to analyze the birthdays of KMLA students and see which month we were born the most. If it really is January or February, it will really prove Malcome Gladwell's point.

30 things about me

Hi Mr. Garrioch!
I finally got the time to do your homework, now that SAT ended:) Thank god!

Here it goes:

1. I was born as the youngest child in my family. I have had small and big diseases while I was growing up. I had frequent headaches and I was not able to go to the bathroom easily. After lots of visits to the hospital, my parents found out that I had a minor blood vessel disorder in my brain and also that my bladder would not work in a proper way. I got treatments until I was ten. I still have migraine a lot but fortunately, now I can go to the bathroom as much as I want to.
 

2. I have a strong border line between what I like and don't like. If I like something, I express it. If I don't like something, I express it as well. This is NOT a good hobby - I found out after various troubles between my friends and me.

 

3. I try hard to be funny. It sounds weird, I know. But I somewhat figured that the best way to become friends with someone is to make that person laugh. This strategy does work, you know.
 

4. I may not be the easiest person to handle. I am very fussy about almost every thing you can think of. I "need" to make everything as perfect as possible. I get ticks when something does not go the way I want it to go:( haha

5. I have a loud voice. Not that it is physically loud, but that I am very certain in my viewpoints and that I am not afraid to express them. However, I also listen well to other people's opinions, too.

6. I am interested in how people think and how they tend to react to a certain stimulus. It is fascinating to think that a person's emotion is a product of some hormone reactions. Some people may say that emotions must be thought apart from chemical reactions, since they are "sacred." But, nah, I'm a science person and I prefer to think them as complex work of science.

7. I never liked physics before I entered KMLA. I thought it was the most boring subject in the whole world. However, after studying it, the fact that a movement can be explained in such simple equations fascinated me. Even the most awkward action can be explained - How fun!

8. I'm a science person, and I will major in one of the science fields. Chemistry, the basic of all sciences, interests me the most. I think it's one of the most dynamic science. Explosions and exotic reactions interests me a lot!

9. I like making stuff. By stuff, I mean everything. Since I was able to grab somnething in my hands, I've been making things. I make dolls, clothes, and accessories. I knit mufflers and I am able to 'DIY' just about everything. Whenever I get bored of studying, I would grab something near me and create something out of it. I tend to spend most of my money on this creative activity, too. But I think it is worth it.

10. I like cleaning. Cleaning is my life. Seriously. I like to clean my room and change arrangement of the furnitures in the room. It gives me a refreshing start to begin studying. And I just like to make things clean and tidy. However, some people find this very disturbing because I constantly clean. But I guess being clean is never more better than being dirty.

11. I like playing computer games. My all-time-favorite game is Sims. I played it since the day it was introduced in Korea. Besides Sims, I play numerous games but not the games which involve killing and shooting... not my kind of a thing, I guess.

12. I love collecting cosmetics. I don't use them often, but I like to buy them and stack them on my desk for decoration. Cosmetic bottles are so pretty to look at, and they smell good, too.

13. I like planting. I used to have six pots of herbs in my dorm. But when I carried them over to my home, they all dried up and died :( But still, there are lots of plants growing in my home, it feels almost like a jungle in here.

14. I like singing and dancing. I was the head of the musical club and it was the coolest experience ever. I don't think that I sing and dance that well, but I like them anyways:)

15. I love libraries. I like books, too, but I like the library more. I like how it is so quiet and I like the smell of old books. I was the head of the library department, and I loved it.

16. coupons

It sounds odd but I like collecting coupons. They make me happy without any reasons. I had a huge box of coupons but my mom threw them away. I'm currently starting a new collection. (Talking of collections, I collect stickers, too.)

17. My parents make jokes that if I excell in one thing, that will be sleeping. I can sleep anytime, anywhere. I never tested how many hours I can sleep nonstop. I'm planning to test it this year after all the exams.

18. I like thinking about complex issues. While thinking, I am able to steady my thoughts and develop ideas. I like to sit or lie in my bed and think about the problems I am having, or world issues.

19. I like listening to people.

It is interesting to see how people can have varying opinions about the same topic. I like hearing about them.

20. I like talking to people.

I do not just absent-mindedly listen to what they have to say. I like expressing my opinions, too.

21. I like collecting accessories.

22. I like math.

I like solving math problems because they have definite answers, unlike literature. However, I do not like classes forcing me to solve them - it takes the fun out of it, I think.

23. I hate loud noises. I do not like noise making things or people. Loud noises irritate me a lot. I would rather stay in my room alone then go visit somewhere crowded with people.

24. I hate dirtiness. Dirty places and dirty people I cannot stand. I do not really understand how some people can be so untidy and unclean.

25. I do not really like small children. Babies and kids love me, but I cannot say that I love them back. They make too much noise and I don't like it when they cling on to me.. But I like watching them from a distacne.

26. I do not like impolite people. Who would? Anyways, when I see some kids who treat their parents or teachers badly, I cannot resist my urge to punch them in the face. Hooray for corporal punishment, I say. Thoses children need a lesson of their lives.

27. I'm not good at memorizing.

I forget things very easily. So I keep a notebook to write down everything that I need to remember.

28. I hate discrimination. I believe that all people are created equal and nobody should be treated differently. I guess I'm sort of a feminist - not in an extreme way, though. However, I feel strong resentment toward those who underestimate the power of women. Who run the world? GIRLS!

29. religion

I am an atheist and I'm proud of it. I am fine with God or god or Buddha or any other people that people believe in. However, I do not like it when people get so overly sensitive about what other people believe in. Somebody said, "I like god, but it's his fan club that I cannot stand." Well, that's the case with me, too. If people put less time building fancy churches out of gold, we would have enough money to feed all those people who are starving.

30. Okay, here is something that I've kept inside me for a few years. Fun story, now to think of it. I had a boyfriend when I was fifteen. He was five years older than me and I loved (or liked, don't know) him more than anything. The relationship was kept hidden from my parents. But one day, the hand-written letter that I sent to him returned to my home and my mom received that mail.  A huge, HUGE disaster happened with me crying my head off and my mom and dad yelling at me. My dad called my bf and told him to stop contacting me. They took my phone, my computer, and they set up a surveilence camera in the living room (true story. It's still there, even though it is not turned on). This was the biggest incident I had ever made. I sort of regret it. Sometimes, being in puberty can really mess you up.