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Introduction to Theatre Essay

A day in the life of James Zafra: Truly, I’m a simple 16-year-old boy with an extremely pale complexion and quite a lanky physique. My deep flaxen hair is constantly in a mess due to the fact that I have never been even close to being “on the dot” in my entire life—and that absolutely includes school.

I have to rush strenuously out of bed every morning, —and one thing I do not do is exaggerate therefore I mean every single morning—hurtle through breakfast, rapidly brush my teeth, give my mom a swift peck on the cheek, my dad a quick pat on the back, I grab my bag and my older brother and I careen right out the door, which explains the fact that my dark gold, Zafra family trademark hair is endlessly thrown into a disarray.

Regularly, I am on the run for the bus, side by side with my absolutely most horrible and hellish yet somehow, also the most positively and unimaginably nonpareil brother anyone could possibly have: Nate. That boy is a long story. My grades are usually up to par and that is surely good enough for me. It keeps my parents happy and sane, as well, and so I continue the progress. My life, like any other typical 16-year-old boy, is as normal as a book in a library.

But there is this one matter that changes my whole perspective of everything. This one matter makes me think so differently. This one matter makes my mind think so exquisitely and so beautifully of the realistically messy world. This matter would have to be Penelope Smith. Yes, so very quintessential in a life of a 16-year-old boy: a girl. But, I’d do just about anything for her, ranging from shaving my head to puking on demand. She’s just genuinely charming and she’s a girl with a unique sort of beauty.

She’s good-hearted and she listens to everyone—even those who are mere “fans” and not even close friends—out of bona fide benevolence. We’re good friends, really. But, in actual fact, I can’t grasp the fact of being mere friends. With every smile, every laugh from that girl, she effortlessly succeeds in entirely breaking my heart. What can I do? Call me an unquestionably hopeless romantic and undeniably hopeless, at that. I know I could make that girl happy but the only problem was if she would let me.

Whatever the matter, I’ll make her happy, even if she wasn’t mine. I’d find a way one day. I go home, exhausted from a long hard day of studying, heartbreaking, thinking, running and so many bits and pieces of my waking hours. Well, despite the fact that there are so many things so hard to live with in my life, I can’t imagine life without these difficulties and I know I’m a lucky guy. There are people out there without a Nate or a Penelope or anything. Some don’t have a family, a home, an awesome enemy brother, a school, people to love me and people for me to love.


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