The pleasures of writing can be lost. In the past I have written poetry, dialogues, and essays. When I was in the 11th grade, my teacher assigned a paper to the class; because of this event, I lack confidence in my writing. I am afraid to turn in anything that I write to be graded.
             It was a normal school day. The halls were crowded, and as usual, I was late for class. I hated that class. I fell asleep everyday. My teach reminded me of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Something was strange about seventh hour, though. I was interested in what the class was doing. We were assigned to write a thesis essay, and we were able to pick our own topic. I was thrilled because I could relate to the topic. I chose to write about nothing other than my grandmother's death. I started the paper the paper about a dream that I had whenever I was in Washington D.C. on a school trip with the band. The dream was about my grandmother getting sick. Then, I wrote about going home and my mother telling me that she really was sick with pancreatic cancer. I explained in the paper that my grandmother was delirious because of the medicine she was taking. I never wanted to tell my grandmother my name, because we have the same name. I did not want her to think that she was talking to herself.
             also wrote about her funeral. I wanted my grandmother to be buried with my Ruby Red Slipper necklace, but I never put it in her casket. About two weeks later, I was still upset about my grandmother. I then wrote about a dream I had that made me feel a lot better. The dream was about my family taking a trip to Cedar Creek. I was in the back of my uncle's truck whenever a flash of bright light hit me. I looked up and saw my grandmother walking down a stairway from heaven. She came up to me as I tried to speak to her. She put her finger over my lips and said, "Shhh." she then pulled out a Ruby Red Slippe
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