My mom is having me a small autobiography of  me based on how I've handled the time between September 18, 2015 and September 18, 2016. It's supposedly some sort of personal reflection on how Cyndago Dan's passing has had an effect on me.

After I asked her what I was supposed to write, she said , word for word, "It's supposed to show how this guy, this random South Carolinian who made skits for a living with his friends made you go from going "Oh this was why Mark went on hiatus. That's sad." and barring a smile all day, to us going on a manhunt for you as soon as we got home because you darted to your room and then proceeded bawl under your desk for 2 hours. Yesterday, you were quiet the entire time we were at *parents friends*'s, and I know you were trying not to think about him, but you couldn't stop. Sure you laughed and had fun, but we had to push you through your mind's barrier. Now, you're rarely ever trapped in your mind like that, and when you come out, your mind is a whole new thing. It's only like that because you yourself taught your mind a life lesson. Him passing made you grow and change as a human by yourself and I want you to write about how it did."

I did look her square in the eye with the notebook in hand and said "Okay, don't expect a book, but don't expect a page covered front and back either." And as I got up, she said,

"Oh, and don't try to scribble this out just to get this done-" and I jumped in with a quick, "I'm not planning on it." She continued her sentence as if I wasn't talking and capped it off with a, "because this is going to be your 5 page essay and informative presentation that's due by the end of the year, and you're presenting it to my college class before they graduate."

I exploded. I exploded with an almighty and the heartiest hellfire bang that has ever rang in human ears.

"Let me get this straight. You, my mother and teacher, want me, the student and daughter, to spill my god damn feelings on some dead trees  and then, you want me to type my feelings out so they fit in a document that is more than 5 virtual dead trees long, then taking said typed feelings, conveying them into a god damned presentation, then you want me to present my fucking feelings to students that I don't even know?!? Because if that's the case, I'd rather tell *parents friends who I consider family*!! Or just write an upbeat story!!"

Then she proceeded to explain how what I would be doing would be linked to one class and what I'm doing is linked to another class in multiple ways, then adding in "*friend from choir* is in my 2nd class and they know what you're going through and *friend* and *friend's boyfriend* are in my class too, so they can be your shoulder to cry on. Plus, I'm there!! And we didn't cover much of "Lesson of Death and Dying". So that's what this year is about!"

I caved, and I'm gonna do it. Now I've been trying to write this out, but holy hell is this hard to write.