“Jimmy, are you sure you wouldn’t like a mouse? They’re very helpful.”

“No Dad, I’m sure. It’s too expensive and doesn' do much.”
In almost every family in America, this would have been a conversation about a computer mouse, one that is used to move the little white thing on a computer. But my father was talking about an actual mouse, claiming it would be helpful for me to take out small things from tight spaces.
My family, the Ruffings, did not believe in technology or electronics, or having a life. Our family devoted almost all of its time to working on our own 80-acre farm and producing the goods necessary to sell. Every week a big ol’ truck comes along and we give it some eggs, milk, chicken, and other things so they can take it to the grocery store. As you can probably guess, me and my younger sister Donna didn’ have the best time in school. Wearing Biberalls, Overalls, Farmer’s hats and buttoned shirts every single day of the week was not exactly a helping factor. One time, it got so bad that the big kids took all my clothes, including my favorite Overalls, and put me in the trash can. The teachers never knew I was there, and recess ended with me still in there. It was cold and stinky as ever, and I could hear a truck comin’. I panicked and started yelling out and screaming, and a nearby adult helped me out, and even let me borrow some of his clothes. Although he didn’t have any farmer clothing, that didn’t bother me in the least. I looked completely normal like the rest of the other kids for the rest of the day, excluding my awful smell. Although I felt the same, I was still not treated as one, and everywhere I went people made fun of the smell. I always wondered what would have happened if I woulda stayed in the trash can, would I have gone all the way to the Little Rock dump? Surely they would have noticed that a 13-year-old boy was trapped inside?
When I got home that day, I kept those clothes the nice man gave me. I hand-washed em’ on my own and set them in the corner of my dimly-lit closet. I knew that one day, that pair of khakis, shirt that had the letters N-I-K-E on it, and the North Face jacket would be useful. Never did I ever tell anyone in my family about it, not even Donna who I tell almost everythin’, because I knew this was something I had to keep to myself. This town was so unaccepting of us, the “farmers”, where it got to a point where the farmers and businessmen hated each other. I hated how things were like this, and how me and my sister were almost the only farmer people at our school.
Last night I started writing in my diary. I had really weird dream. It was strange that I was writing in my diary because I haven’ since I was 9, but I was done with my chicken duty for the day, and I needed to get my emotions out. I knew my family was fast asleep. The entire time, I though I was writin’ cause I was sad bout what the big kids did to me. But every time I tried to write bout what happened with em, I ended up writing about Lindsey. Lindsey Fray was the most popular girl in my grade. Her family was incredibly rich, all the boys liked her (including the ones that beat me up, who usually were the ones that date her.) She was very very pretty. I could not stop thinking bout her, so I decided that some sleep would get my mind off of it. But all through my sleep, I dreamt that one of the big kids pulled down my pants and everyone was laughin’ at me, but Lindsey came in and punched the kid, and came over to console me. It was such a nice dream, and I wish it wouldn’t end.
Today as I walked through the hall on my way to English, I saw a big ol’ poster in the hallway that said:Come to the School Dance on April 26. 5 dollar admission. Food and Drinks served. Come with happiness and Wildcat Support! But that was not what caught my eye. What caught my eye was Lindsey Fray, standing there at the table, talking to her friend. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“So Lindsey who are you going to the dance with?”
“Oh my, Brad asked me to go Melanie! I am so excited”
“Me too! Charlie said he would go with me!”
When Lindsey said the word Brad, a rush of sadness mixed in with anger went through me. It made me want to just roll over and be by myself. As I left the table in frustration, something stopped me. For some reason I could not even understand, I wanted to go to the dance, just to see Lindsey have a good time. So I fished out a crumpled up 5 dollar bill from my pocket and gave it to the girl who was sitting there, who gave me the weirdest look I have ever gotten in my life. It was a look of shock and anger. She looked ridiculous, so I couldn’t help but sneak in a smile.
I walked in the gym, wearing my “normal” clothes, feeling completely misplaced. It was as if there was no place completely opposite of where I belonged. There were huge fancy balls flashing lights everywhere I went, music being blasted at a volume that made it impossible to hear anything else, and everyone wearing either fancy dresses or tuxedos.
“What’s the matter farmboy? Ain't got no nice clothes that your parents bought for you? Or did they spend all the money they had on the chickens?” Brad yelled in my ear, as talking at a normal level would not have been loud enough.
“Brad please, I’m just trying to enjoy myself.”
“Enjoy yourself with what, you ain’t got no date! You’re here all alone!”
Suddenly, before I could truly think about what I was doing, I flung myself at Brad, who stumbled and got his face and nice clothes splattered with fruit punch.
“I’ll teach you to mess with me, cracker!”
The last thing I remembered from that dance was those words and a fist comin’ in straight for my face.
“Jimmy, Jimmy are you alright?”
“What?”
“Jimmy, can you see clearly now?”
When I opened my eyes, they nearly jumped out of my head. Probably the last person I expected but the first person I would have hoped for was standing there next to me. She was supporting me in what seems to have been the girl’s bathroom.
“Lindsey Fray? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out there with Brad?”
“How could I be out there with that jerk after what he did to you? You poor lil’ thing. Here’s some ice.”
That ice on my forehead was the best feeling I ever felt in my life.
“C’mon Jimmy, come with me outside.”
Lindsey grabbed hold of my hand and led me outside of the building, which got us looks of shock from every kid that saw us.
Once we got outside, I was struggling for words to start a conversation. Luckily, Lindsey started talking.
“Look Jimmy, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a long time. Every time anyone has ever made fun of you or treated you badly, it hurt me. I always wanted to help you out, but I never had the courage to do it. Seeing Brad do that to you got it out of me. It was like something came out of me that I didn’t know existed. Jimmy, I’ve always liked you.”
“Y-you have?”
“Yes Jimmy. C’mon let's go back to my place. We can walk there from here.”Jimmy and Lindsey

“Jimmy, are you sure you wouldn’t like a mouse? They’re very helpful.”
“No Dad, I’m sure. It’s too expensive and doesn' do much.”
In almost every family in America, this would have been a conversation about a computer mouse, one that is used to move the little white thing on a computer. But my father was talking about an actual mouse, claiming it would be helpful for me to take out small things from tight spaces.
My family, the Ruffings, did not believe in technology or electronics, or having a life. Our family devoted almost all of its time to working on our own 80-acre farm and producing the goods necessary to sell. Every week a big ol’ truck comes along and we give it some eggs, milk, chicken, and other things so they can take it to the grocery store. As you can probably guess, me and my younger sister Donna didn’ have the best time in school. Wearing Biberalls, Overalls, Farmer’s hats and buttoned shirts every single day of the week was not exactly a helping factor. One time, it got so bad that the big kids took all my clothes, including my favorite Overalls, and put me in the trash can. The teachers never knew I was there, and recess ended with me still in there. It was cold and stinky as ever, and I could hear a truck comin’. I panicked and started yelling out and screaming, and a nearby adult helped me out, and even let me borrow some of his clothes. Although he didn’t have any farmer clothing, that didn’t bother me in the least. I looked completely normal like the rest of the other kids for the rest of the day, excluding my awful smell. Although I felt the same, I was still not treated as one, and everywhere I went people made fun of the smell. I always wondered what would have happened if I woulda stayed in the trash can, would I have gone all the way to the Little Rock dump? Surely they would have noticed that a 13-year-old boy was trapped inside?
When I got home that day, I kept those clothes the nice man gave me. I hand-washed em’ on my own and set them in the corner of my dimly-lit closet. I knew that one day, that pair of khakis, shirt that had the letters N-I-K-E on it, and the North Face jacket would be useful. Never did I ever tell anyone in my family about it, not even Donna who I tell almost everythin’, because I knew this was something I had to keep to myself. This town was so unaccepting of us, the “farmers”, where it got to a point where the farmers and businessmen hated each other. I hated how things were like this, and how me and my sister were almost the only farmer people at our school.
Last night I started writing in my diary. I had really weird dream. It was strange that I was writing in my diary because I haven’ since I was 9, but I was done with my chicken duty for the day, and I needed to get my emotions out. I knew my family was fast asleep. The entire time, I though I was writin’ cause I was sad bout what the big kids did to me. But every time I tried to write bout what happened with em, I ended up writing about Lindsey. Lindsey Fray was the most popular girl in my grade. Her family was incredibly rich, all the boys liked her (including the ones that beat me up, who usually were the ones that date her.) She was very very pretty. I could not stop thinking bout her, so I decided that some sleep would get my mind off of it. But all through my sleep, I dreamt that one of the big kids pulled down my pants and everyone was laughin’ at me, but Lindsey came in and punched the kid, and came over to console me. It was such a nice dream, and I wish it wouldn’t end.
Today as I walked through the hall on my way to English, I saw a big ol’ poster in the hallway that said:Come to the School Dance on April 26. 5 dollar admission. Food and Drinks served. Come with happiness and Wildcat Support! But that was not what caught my eye. What caught my eye was Lindsey Fray, standing there at the table, talking to her friend. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
“So Lindsey who are you going to the dance with?”
“Oh my, Brad asked me to go Melanie! I am so excited”
“Me too! Charlie said he would go with me!”
When Lindsey said the word Brad, a rush of sadness mixed in with anger went through me. It made me want to just roll over and be by myself. As I left the table in frustration, something stopped me. For some reason I could not even understand, I wanted to go to the dance, just to see Lindsey have a good time. So I fished out a crumpled up 5 dollar bill from my pocket and gave it to the girl who was sitting there, who gave me the weirdest look I have ever gotten in my life. It was a look of shock and anger. She looked ridiculous, so I couldn’t help but sneak in a smile.
I walked in the gym, wearing my “normal” clothes, feeling completely misplaced. It was as if there was no place completely opposite of where I belonged. There were huge fancy balls flashing lights everywhere I went, music being blasted at a volume that made it impossible to hear anything else, and everyone wearing either fancy dresses or tuxedos.
“What’s the matter farmboy? Ain't got no nice clothes that your parents bought for you? Or did they spend all the money they had on the chickens?” Brad yelled in my ear, as talking at a normal level would not have been loud enough.
“Brad please, I’m just trying to enjoy myself.”
“Enjoy yourself with what, you ain’t got no date! You’re here all alone!”
Suddenly, before I could truly think about what I was doing, I flung myself at Brad, who stumbled and got his face and nice clothes splattered with fruit punch.
“I’ll teach you to mess with me, cracker!”
The last thing I remembered from that dance was those words and a fist comin’ in straight for my face.
“Jimmy, Jimmy are you alright?”
“What?”
“Jimmy, can you see clearly now?”
When I opened my eyes, they nearly jumped out of my head. Probably the last person I expected but the first person I would have hoped for was standing there next to me. She was supporting me in what seems to have been the girl’s bathroom.
“Lindsey Fray? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you out there with Brad?”
“How could I be out there with that jerk after what he did to you? You poor lil’ thing. Here’s some ice.”
That ice on my forehead was the best feeling I ever felt in my life.
“C’mon Jimmy, come with me outside.”
Lindsey grabbed hold of my hand and led me outside of the building, which got us looks of shock from every kid that saw us.
Once we got outside, I was struggling for words to start a conversation. Luckily, Lindsey started talking.
“Look Jimmy, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a long time. Every time anyone has ever made fun of you or treated you badly, it hurt me. I always wanted to help you out, but I never had the courage to do it. Seeing Brad do that to you got it out of me. It was like something came out of me that I didn’t know existed. Jimmy, I’ve always liked you.”
“Y-you have?”
“Yes Jimmy. C’mon let's go back to my place. We can walk there from here.”
The whole walk to her house was a blur. I could not believe that I was holding hands and talking to the prettiest and most popular girl in our school, and she liked me. My stomach felt queasy. I was very, very nervous. My father believed in arranged marriages, and surely he wouldn’t have chosen Lindsey Fray. He also said that until he chose the right girl for me, I shouldn’t even hold hands with another girl. Well, I certainly wasn’t listenin’ now!
Me and Lindsey's little get togethers went on for about another month and a half. Every time we got together, I felt awfully bad about how I was betraying my father and what he would do to me, but at the same time I was savoring every moment. One night, when we were out at the store buying us some really cold drinks that made my head hurt (Lindsey told me they were called “slushies”) we were just walking along enjoying ourselves when something awful happened.
“Oh sorry sir I wasn’t looking where I was going. Oh my god it’s dad.”
“Jimmy? What are you doing here? Explain to me this nonsense and the reason as to why you are not at the community center helping out?”
“Well, you see, funny story…”
“Get in the car right now and cut the crap. I never want you to see that girl ever again.”
As my dad grabbed me by the shoulder and almost forced me out the door, I turned around to take one last look at the girl of my dreams, knowing we probably would never talk again.
When we got home, my father went on a rampage. He was kicking the air, throwing his hands in frustration, wondering how something like this could ever happen. He went on a long rant on how I disappointed him, myself, and our family.
“From now on Jimmy, you and your sister will not go to school. My sister will come live with us and tutor the both of you while you both work all day on the farm. Your mother and I  do all the work around here, and y’all just take it for granted.”
“Dad no! I am going to school and that’s the end of it! I can’t live my life like this!”
I bolted through the door and ran, as far as my feet would take me. I was breathing so  hard to a point where I felt like I would faint at any given moment, but I kept going, with the thought of Lindsey in my mind. When I made it to her house, soaked in rain and tired as ever, she opened the door and I fell into her arms. I could feel something strange though. She was a little hesitant to be with me.
“What’s wrong Lindsey?”
“Nothing, Jimmy. I think it’s time for you to go.”
A big, tall man with a thick moustache came in, and started screaming at his daughter and yelling awful things at me. My dad came in on his tractor to, and started having a go with Lindsey’s dad.
Walking back from her house back home, my feelings for Lindsey had almost gone away. I still liked her, but seeing her dad brought me down. It brought me into reality of our town and our real world, where two different groups of people could never stand together. Conflict was always the reality. And the whole conflict was not out of real personal arguments, it was out of tradition the hate being passed down from generation to generation. For no one tries to change the conflict not because they like the situation or agree with it, they are just too heavily influenced and don’t have a lack of understanding for what is going on.
The whole walk to her house was a blur. I could not believe that I was holding hands and talking to the prettiest and most popular girl in our school, and she liked me. My stomach felt queasy. I was very, very nervous. My father believed in arranged marriages, and surely he wouldn’t have chosen Lindsey Fray. He also said that until he chose the right girl for me, I shouldn’t even hold hands with another girl. Well, I certainly wasn’t listenin’ now!
Me and Lindsey's little get togethers went on for about another month and a half. Every time we got together, I felt awfully bad about how I was betraying my father and what he would do to me, but at the same time I was savoring every moment. One night, when we were out at the store buying us some really cold drinks that made my head hurt (Lindsey told me they were called “slushies”) we were just walking along enjoying ourselves when something awful happened.
“Oh sorry sir I wasn’t looking where I was going. Oh my god it’s dad.”
“Jimmy? What are you doing here? Explain to me this nonsense and the reason as to why you are not at the community center helping out?”
“Well, you see, funny story…”
“Get in the car right now and cut the crap. I never want you to see that girl ever again.”
As my dad grabbed me by the shoulder and almost forced me out the door, I turned around to take one last look at the girl of my dreams, knowing we probably would never talk again.
When we got home, my father went on a rampage. He was kicking the air, throwing his hands in frustration, wondering how something like this could ever happen. He went on a long rant on how I disappointed him, myself, and our family.
“From now on Jimmy, you and your sister will not go to school. My sister will come live with us and tutor the both of you while you both work all day on the farm. Your mother and I  do all the work around here, and y’all just take it for granted.”
“Dad no! I am going to school and that’s the end of it! I can’t live my life like this!”
I bolted through the door and ran, as far as my feet would take me. I was breathing so  hard to a point where I felt like I would faint at any given moment, but I kept going, with the thought of Lindsey in my mind. When I made it to her house, soaked in rain and tired as ever, she opened the door and I fell into her arms. I could feel something strange though. She was a little hesitant to be with me.
“What’s wrong Lindsey?”
“Nothing, Jimmy. I think it’s time for you to go.”
A big, tall man with a thick moustache came in, and started screaming at his daughter and yelling awful things at me. My dad came in on his tractor to, and started having a go with Lindsey’s dad.
Walking back from her house back home, my feelings for Lindsey had almost gone away. I still liked her, but seeing her dad brought me down. It brought me into reality of our town and our real world, where two different groups of people could never stand together. Conflict was always the reality. And the whole conflict was not out of real personal arguments, it was out of tradition the hate being passed down from generation to generation. For no one tries to change the conflict not because they like the situation or agree with it, they are just too heavily influenced and don’t have a lack of understanding for what is going on.