White Buses ..

          White buses. Almost like school buses but all white. To you, these are JUST white buses; but to me on the other hand, they weren’t. I knew these buses were gonna be the buses to take my brother and hundreds of other troops to their first stop on their journey to Afghanistan. No bus did I despise more…

            Soldier Tyree R. Thomas, closest person to me, strongest person around me. My big brother, my rock and my personal diary. Just two years and eight months older than myself, fighting a war… and not the type of “war” normal 19 year olds are fighting…

             Me and my brother weren’t always close, I was always the annoying little sister he used to tease and beat up all the time. Until around my 15th birthday or so, that’s all I was. After that, things changed a lot. My brother began to be the nightmare teenager that no parent wanted to face. Skipping school, breaking curfew, the works. And that changed it all because when everybody was against him spreading his wings and being more of an adult, I stood by him. I always wanted to be like my brother Ty, but not in the sense of him being a troublemaker, but more in the sense of being so strong, and so bold. You see, my brother never took shit from anybody. Not teachers, principles, and more importantly… not my mom. He did what he felt as though was gonna make him happy, regardless of what anybody thought or said. I always admired that about him.

             Anyways, so during that part of his life is when he recognized that I was no longer his baby sister oblivious to the world, but I was his little sister who knew more than he thought. I was his little sister who he grew fond of and could tell anything to. I was not only his little sister anymore. I was his best friend.

            Fast forward a little and he’s out of high school, as Wiz Khalifa would say, he was living “Young, Wild & Free”. Everything was good until that late night he was looking down the barrow of a loaded gun, all because of his graduation gift; his new HTC phone. After that, he was constantly targeted on the streets and finally, my mom and him decided that enough is enough. Soon after that he joined the United States Army. Crazy thing about it is, us being as close as we are by this point, he didn’t even tell me. By the time it was too late for me to give my input, my mom told me. Papers were signed already and everything. I don’t remember much about that day but crying and my mom saying, “We felt as though we would rather him die a hero, oppose to him dying in the streets”…


-This piece isn't very creative in my eyes, but it definitely shows my growth. It took a lot for me to finish this piece with it being such a touchy subject, and my problem with finishing things. Actually to be quite honest, this isn't what I had in mind when I thought of this piece as being "finished". Also I would like to think that since this is such a real, honest story... its pretty engaging because it gives an insight on something I personally struggle with on a daily basis.