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In the first place, I was a rebel. Though not raised to become one, I became what my parents instinctively wanted to avoid. Being young meant being reckless, adventurous, and sacrificial—at least that was what my friends taught me.

When I was 13, I used to think that the world revolved around me and me alone. One day, one of my friends peer pressured me to skip classes to go to the mall. At first, I hesitated, but I quickly shrugged off the idea and skipped class with them. I knew it was wrong, but it felt so right at that moment, that I forgot about the consequences it would bring.

The next thing I knew, I was being arrested by the police for stealing and vandalizing. "Officer, I promise, it wasn't me! Guys, you believe me right?" My friends only had their heads low as they left me and the police outside the mall. Had I known they'd use me as bait to do bad, I would have never disobeyed my parents.

After the police found out I was underage, they called my parents thus causing a big scandal that led me to drop out of the school I was in before. I grew shameful and regretful, which turned me into the person I am now.

Previously I thought being young meant reckless, adventurous, and sacrificial. When I look into the mirror, I think of the times that the world seemed like it revolved around me and me alone. To sum it up, my story isn't just a lesson to tell. It is also to validate the experiences of the youth—and how people can make mistakes and learn from them. Besides, we were all once young and mean, which is why we should appreciate the time we spent as teens because we will never be this young again.

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First, Mark and Jenna planned for a wedding impulsively trying to blind anything else. Then weeks pass and the day finally comes. As the clock began to tick down to the wedding hour, Jenna stood in front of the mirror, furthermore, her hands trembling slightly. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” she mutters, adjusting her veil.

"Can’t back out now,” Mark then replied, his voice steady but laced with a hint of uncertainty. “It’s too late for second thoughts.”

“Right,” Jenna said, biting her lip.

Mark stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We can still do those things, Jenna. After the wedding. It’s just a piece of paper, right?”

“Sure, but—” she paused, glancing away. “What if we end up missing our chance? I feel like we’re skipping our youth.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But what if this is the right step? We can build a life together. Isn’t that worth it?”

“Maybe,” Jenna whispered, her heart racing. “But I want to live, not just settle down.”

“Life is what we make of it,” Mark said, pulling her into an embrace. “We’ll make it work. I promise.”

“Okay,” she murmured, trying to believe him as the door creaked open. After all that reluctance, they continue the wedding anyway. Then, a year passes after their big day. After their tentative decision to pull it off, they live together as husband and wife struggling with the inevitable responsibilities they hold. As they learn through each other's struggles they manage to transition their relationship to tranquility. In the end, they admit they missed out on a lot but there's no point in dwelling in the past now.

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To begin with, I always felt out of place in my small hometown. First, I believed that my dream of becoming a famous artist was impossible if I stayed there. Besides, I was convinced my family didn’t understand my ambition or my fiery passion for art. Their usual advice felt like a cage to me. So, after countless nights of yearning for freedom or any change, I decided to leave everything behind and move to the  city.

After this bold decision, I dropped out of school and packed my bags and ignored the tearful pleas to stay of my parents. At first, I was overjoyed “I couldn’t have felt any happier” I thought. The city was alive with energy, filled with opportunities, or so I thought. However, I quickly learned that life here was nothing like the dream I had in my mind. Further more, the rent was absurd, and shows rejected my art, deeming it "too unconventional." Or “too common.”.

Previously, whenever I faced setbacks, my family had always beenthere to support me. But now, I felt too ashamed to call them. Consequently, I took on multiple job waiting tables by day and cleaning offices by night just to make ends meet. Next, exhaustion began to drain me physically and mentally, the dream I had clung to started slipping through my fingers.

Finally, I hit a breaking point. I felt like I had no choice left. I decided to return home, scared of the disappointment I expected to see on my family’s faces. To my shock, they welcomed me back with smiles, offering love instead of judgment and criticism. In the end, I realized that their advice had not been to discourage me but to prepare me for the reality I had not realized.

To conclude, my journey taught me that dreams are precious, but they need planning, resilience, and a strong foundation. My family’s never ending support became the cornerstone of my second chance, reminding me that no matter how far I strayed, home would always be a place to rebuild.

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“Rika! Why are your grades so low? You tell me right now!” She screams at her, the grade card crumpled in her hand. Rika sobs softly, “I’m sorry mama, I tried… i really did,” She flinches when her mother throws the crumpled paper at her face, “Do you know how expensive your school is!? Do you know how hard it is to work 3 jobs!? And then all you give me is a 83!?” Her mother takes a deep breath and scowls at her, “I’m taking your phone.” Rika gasps, “But mama! I need it for school!” Mother clicks her tongue, “Use the library, that's what we did when i was still a child.” She looks up at her mother, “but mama…” Mother glares at her, “suck it up child, you are no longer 13, you are almost 15, you should be better at this already.” Rika trembles, biting her lip as she nodded, “go to your room, now.” She picked up her grade card and got up, the door to her room was old and creaky, mother hadn’t replaced the hinges on it, maybe that was the point. She closed the door before finally letting go of her breath, she sank onto the floor and stared at her desk. She broke down into soundless sobs, her hands clawing into her hair, she hits her head backwards on the door, hard. “What was that?” Mother called, her voice sounded suspicious towards Rika, “Nothing! One of the books fell from my bag!” She was glad her voice was steady, she got up and took in a breath. She looked at her desk, the papers were still half answered and the eraser shavings were littered everywhere. She took a paper, it was a math assignment, the lesson had been too hard to grasp recently and she had been studying the night before. She leaves the paper on the desk, along with all the half answered papers.

“Rika! You tell me right now why you aren’t on the honors list! You weren’t even on the runners up list! You tell me right now why you're failing!” Mother’s spittle was flying at her face, Rika just looked at her without flinching. She was tired, not only from the sleepless nights she got from the anxiety, but also from the pressure. She bit her lip, trying to control her face from descending into a snarl. “Tell me!” Mother was shoving the grade card at her face again, “You are already graduating! Do you think you can get into a good college with grades like this!?” Mother had thrown the papers at her face, the papers fluttering down onto the floor. “What if I'm tired already!” Rika grasped at the front of her uniform, “What if I'm tired!? Mother!? You’ve pressured me so much and I just-” A burning pain flared on her cheek, Mother was closer to her than she had in weeks, “You dare speak back to me! I should have left you in that hospital along with that pathetic wimp of a father!” Rika cups her cheek, “Out! Out with you! I’ve dealt long enough with your uselessness!”

Rika breathed out the smoke and clicked her tongue, “Your grade card was in the trash, Daphne, care to explain?” Daphne flinched, “mom… I can explain!” A slightly manic look in her eyes as she exclaimed, “I can explain! I-” A harsh thud across the table makes her flinch again, "Daphne, shut it. I don’t want to hear any of your stupid excuses. You’d better tell me right now why your grades are as low as 83!" Daphne, filled with anxiety, was scared and didn’t know what to say. "Mom… I’m sorry…" she mumbled. Rika became even more frustrated and snapped, "Sorry? What good will a sorry do? Gosh… you’re a complete disappointment!"

Daphne froze, her eyes welling up with tears as Rika loomed over her. The tension in the room was suffocating. Rika’s grip on the table tightened, her knuckles white. She took a long drag from her cigarette, the embers glowing fiercely, and then exhaled sharply through her nose.

“You think I worked every hour possible only for you to throw your life away?” Rika said, her voice low and pissed.

“I’m not throwing my life away!” Daphne finally burst out, her voice shaking. “I’m trying! But you-”

“But what?” Rika leaned forward, her presence towering. “Go ahead, spit it out. Let’s hear what excuse you’ve come up with now.”

“You expect perfection!” Daphne snapped, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself. Rika’s eyes widened. “I’m just a kid! I’m your kid! And you treat me like I’m some… some failure just because I can’t meet your impossible standards!”

The room fell silent except for the sound of Daphne’s shaky breaths. Rika stared at her, the cigarette burning down between her fingers. For a moment, her hardened mask faltered, revealing something else—hurt, perhaps, or regret.

“I… im sorry mother-” she stuttered, self conscious about her out burst.

Daphne silently retreated to her room, her words to Rika cut off by an invisible wall neither could break through. The next morning, when Daphne didn’t come down for breakfast, Rika’s unease grew. She climbed the stairs and knocked softly on Daphne’s door. No answer. Heart pounding, she pushed it open and froze.

Daphne hung lifelessly in the center of the room, her pale face serene in the cruel stillness. On the desk lay a note, its edges curled as if the paper itself carried the weight of despair.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I tried my best, but I couldn’t make you proud. I thought if I just worked harder, if I just pushed myself a little more, you’d finally see me not my grades, not my failures, but me. But I guess I was never enough. Maybe now, you’ll understand what it feels like to be this tired.”

The cigarette slipped from Rika’s trembling lips, its ember extinguishing on the cold floor. Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the ground. She wanted to scream, to wail, to tear the world apart, but all she could do was stare at the note through a blur of tears, drowning in an ocean of guilt.

How had it come to this?

Her mind betrayed her, dragging her back to her own childhood the shrill voice of her mother, the sharp sting of a slap, the suffocating pressure of never being enough. She’d promised herself she’d never be like her. She’d sworn it. Yet here she was, repeating the cycle, standing in the same shoes she once despised.

Rika looked at Daphne, her lifeless body swaying gently in the silent room. For the first time, she truly saw her daughter not her grades, not her faults, but her. It was too late. Too late to fix what she had broken. Too late to show Daphne that she had been enough all along.

And for the first time in years, Rika screamed.

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It all began with a school project. Johnny's teacher gave each student a full-grown rose to care for over the next month, tasking them to report their findings. Johnny enthusiastically planted his rose in his backyard, diligently watering and ensuring it received ample sunlight every day. His devotion to the rose soon became all-consuming, and he preferred spending time alone with it to socializing with friends. As a result, they distanced themselves from him.

Seeking reconciliation, Johnny uprooted the rose and offered it to his friends as a peace offering. They accepted, but promptly returned the rose. Relieved, Johnny replanted it in its original spot.

However, the next day, Johnny was heartbroken to find the rose wilting. At just 10 years old, he couldn't grasp the reasons behind its decline, but he knew his beloved rose was dying. Desperate to save it, Johnny tried everything: watering every hour, pruning every afternoon. Despite his efforts, the once-thriving red rose withered and turned dark.