Day 30: One Last Moment

Honestly? People. We have to choose one. This might just be some test to see what memory they should erase or if they should erase every single one but the one(s) we choose. When it comes to that, how on earth are we supposed to choose? I'm not suppose to fall into peer pressure and I don't like bullies so I could very well call the cops, but seeing as to how it is Valentine's Day, they'll get off the hook.

Great. Now I have to pick one memory.

If it is one last memory, I could choose a recent one. Like today.

But I wasn't present for that one, so it doesn't count.

Well, I like Sundays, but those are every week, so they don't count.

Ooh! This is my almost favorite because I stood up for my men.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and Mr. S. (Dare I say Shneebly?) was speaking on prejudice. I said that I was familiar with this subject for many people assume Drama Associates wear much black. Then he laughed and said a comment about the boys involved in drama. I gave him the look that said for him to finish the sentence and regret it. He said that drama boys were feminine. Immediately, I jump up and pushed the button on Austyn's pen so that the sharp part was up. Caitlyn pulled me down but everyone was looking at me. Luckily the teacher was turned around. A female jock told me to cool it because he was just kidding. I wanted to give a snarly comment about she would do the same if he said something rude about volley ball players. Instead I gave him the cold shoulder and the evil glare because these are my homeboyz I'm talking about! He tried to hide behind papers, but that foolish man should have known that those papers would never protect him.

That man should watch his back from now.

However, that is not my favorite last memory.

I loved the memory of watching the chandelier burst to life and rise to the ceiling 'vanquishing' the ghost that haunted the Opera Populaire for so many years.

I love the memory of seeing the citizens of France sing a last song.

"To love another person is to see the face of God."

I love the memory of walking out of the temple after doing baptisms for the dead.

I love the memory of being frightened of a skittle.

I love the memory of finally being able to do the splits.

I love having memories.

Is that good enough.

But my most favorite memory is always going to be the one I last had.