Remembering
Author: Lauren
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or anything associated with it. Please, if I did, do you think
that I'd be doing this story? No! I'd be busy making Roswell better. (a.k.a. going back to the
original plot of Roswell.) I only own what you don't recognize.
Rating: G
Category: Other
Feedback: Send it to Echo728@yahoo.com
Season: doesn't really have a season
Summary: Somebody is remembering one of the podsquad's past.
*****
Okay, right now I'm trying to rack my brain for a report for school. My teacher assigned me
some kinda really weird assignment. I'm supposed to do a report on somebody you wanted to get
to know, but didn't. I don't want to do a stupid one like some of my friends are doing. They're
doing it on cute guys they saw, but didn't have the courage to talk to them. I know I could do
one on that, but the list is kinda long and I want my report to have more substance than that.
It's due Thursday and today is Tuesday, so I want to do it ahead of time. I hate doing things
last minute; I usually worry myself into an ulcer if I do things like that. So, right now I'm
trying to remember things from a long time ago, like maybe a girl that I coulda been friends
with, but chose not to really talk to. I'm sorta getting a flash into my mind of a memory, but
I can't really place it. I keep trying to hold onto it and to remember what was going on, but I
can't.
I'm staring to remember it now. Two kids; a boy and a girl in the orphanage, where I grew up.
Yeah, now I'm starting to remember. They were only there for a couple days before they were
adopted by that family. They were kinda weird though, and the adults there didn't let anybody
talk to them. I remember when their new parents came for them; I was watching them from the
window seat. They looked so nervous, but once their new parents came they relaxed and just went
with them. They looked so happy, especially the girl, with her new mom. I could see that a bond
already formed between them.
Know what's kinda weird? I remember just about a couple of days later, a boy came there, that
was just like the two kids. Remember how I said they were weird? Well, they didn't speak
English, or write in any other recognizable languages; they didn't know how to use the bathroom,
get dressed, tie their shoes, and other things that most eight-year olds know how to do.
I think I know whom I'm going to do my assignment on.
I remember the first time I saw the boy. He was walking in with a bunch of social workers, and
he looked really intense. That's a good word to describe him when I was little. I was looking
for a word, but couldn't find one. But, he also looked like he was looking for something or
someone; like he wasn't supposed to be here.
I wanted to talk to him, get to know him, but of course, just like with the other kids, they
wouldn't let any of the kids near him. So, I would always just watch him from afar.
I would watch him, as he would get frustrated, because he couldn't get things right away. He
practically wore a permanent scowl on his face. I remember that one day I did almost get to
talk with him though.
It was at night. I got thirsty and wanted some water, so I got out of bed and went towards the
kitchen. He was standing in the hallway alone; nobody was bustling about him as usual so I went
up to him and said hi and he looked so surprised and confused, and he was just about to say
something back to me when somebody came along and took him back to his room, and told me I
should leave him alone.
The last memory I have of him was when his new parents came to adopt him. I remember seeing a
nice, pleasant looking lady whose name I forget and a mean looking man whose name I think was
Frank. When they came to get him I couldn't see the instant bond that I had seen with the other
two kids and their parents.
I could see the boy was going to have it rough in life and he would have to try to make his own
opportunities. I could tell that he was strong and he was a survivor, and he would do what it
would take to survive. I remember he looked so scared when they took him away. I couldn't tell
whether it was that Frank guy or the unknown.
I wonder if he remembers me. Oh well. That was the last I saw of him, I just hope he's somewhere
right now where he's happy; he deserves at least a little happiness.
Yeah, I think my report is coming together quite nicely.
End
Author: Lauren
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or anything associated with it. Please, if I did, do you think
that I'd be doing this story? No! I'd be busy making Roswell better. (a.k.a. going back to the
original plot of Roswell.) I only own what you don't recognize.
Rating: G
Category: Other
Feedback: Send it to Echo728@yahoo.com
Season: doesn't really have a season
Summary: Somebody is remembering one of the podsquad's past.
*****
Okay, right now I'm trying to rack my brain for a report for school. My teacher assigned me
some kinda really weird assignment. I'm supposed to do a report on somebody you wanted to get
to know, but didn't. I don't want to do a stupid one like some of my friends are doing. They're
doing it on cute guys they saw, but didn't have the courage to talk to them. I know I could do
one on that, but the list is kinda long and I want my report to have more substance than that.
It's due Thursday and today is Tuesday, so I want to do it ahead of time. I hate doing things
last minute; I usually worry myself into an ulcer if I do things like that. So, right now I'm
trying to remember things from a long time ago, like maybe a girl that I coulda been friends
with, but chose not to really talk to. I'm sorta getting a flash into my mind of a memory, but
I can't really place it. I keep trying to hold onto it and to remember what was going on, but I
can't.
I'm staring to remember it now. Two kids; a boy and a girl in the orphanage, where I grew up.
Yeah, now I'm starting to remember. They were only there for a couple days before they were
adopted by that family. They were kinda weird though, and the adults there didn't let anybody
talk to them. I remember when their new parents came for them; I was watching them from the
window seat. They looked so nervous, but once their new parents came they relaxed and just went
with them. They looked so happy, especially the girl, with her new mom. I could see that a bond
already formed between them.
Know what's kinda weird? I remember just about a couple of days later, a boy came there, that
was just like the two kids. Remember how I said they were weird? Well, they didn't speak
English, or write in any other recognizable languages; they didn't know how to use the bathroom,
get dressed, tie their shoes, and other things that most eight-year olds know how to do.
I think I know whom I'm going to do my assignment on.
I remember the first time I saw the boy. He was walking in with a bunch of social workers, and
he looked really intense. That's a good word to describe him when I was little. I was looking
for a word, but couldn't find one. But, he also looked like he was looking for something or
someone; like he wasn't supposed to be here.
I wanted to talk to him, get to know him, but of course, just like with the other kids, they
wouldn't let any of the kids near him. So, I would always just watch him from afar.
I would watch him, as he would get frustrated, because he couldn't get things right away. He
practically wore a permanent scowl on his face. I remember that one day I did almost get to
talk with him though.
It was at night. I got thirsty and wanted some water, so I got out of bed and went towards the
kitchen. He was standing in the hallway alone; nobody was bustling about him as usual so I went
up to him and said hi and he looked so surprised and confused, and he was just about to say
something back to me when somebody came along and took him back to his room, and told me I
should leave him alone.
The last memory I have of him was when his new parents came to adopt him. I remember seeing a
nice, pleasant looking lady whose name I forget and a mean looking man whose name I think was
Frank. When they came to get him I couldn't see the instant bond that I had seen with the other
two kids and their parents.
I could see the boy was going to have it rough in life and he would have to try to make his own
opportunities. I could tell that he was strong and he was a survivor, and he would do what it
would take to survive. I remember he looked so scared when they took him away. I couldn't tell
whether it was that Frank guy or the unknown.
I wonder if he remembers me. Oh well. That was the last I saw of him, I just hope he's somewhere
right now where he's happy; he deserves at least a little happiness.
Yeah, I think my report is coming together quite nicely.
End