• After another unbearable day of teasing and ridicule, my middle-aged father said to me, "Luna, we can't stand to see you so upset when you come home everyday. It looks like a Catholic School just ...isn't the place for you." he shook his head.

    "What are you saying? That's a lie! Catholic School is the only place for me! How do you think I'll be treated at a public school, huh? You think they're all angels over there?" I said furiously to my parents.

    "Honey, they can't be much worse than your current classmates. If a stranger walked into your school right now, which is supposed to be Catholic, with kind-hearted, Christian kids, they would never guess that is the case! Half of the kids in your classes come to school high everyday and have no respect for any person or rules. And this is what we are paying extra for?" my mom was trying to pull off one of those lectures where she never stops talking, so I can't remember the arguement I would have made.

    "But mom, stop. Maybe other kids aren't treating the privelage to go to our school with respect, but I value the fact that I can talk freely about my faith during the school day. I'm able to read and learn about the Bible and what God has in store for me. I can take what we learn in my other classes and apply it to my religion. I can say I love God and I can pray at school." I said with a look of hope on my face.

    "Don't you understand?" my dad asked me. "This is why you're being made fun of all the time. Sure those other kids are Christian, but they don't really want to be... and they think other kids who actually love God are stupid. So your mother and I think it's time to change things around a bit. You're switching schools after thanksgiving break is over."

    "What? So you think sending me to another school will fix everything? People will think I'm even more 'stupid' over there. Why can't I just stay at St. John's? Or be homeschooled?"

    My mom glared at me and said, "We're not homeschooling you and you know that. You are going to East Central High, and that's final."

    "What a stupid name." I muttered, trying to ignore what she told me. You can't be east and central at the same time.

    She continued, "And if you're worried about still being made fun of, worry no-more. Because you are now no-longer Catholic when you are in public."

    I froze with my eyes wide, staring at my heartless mother, and I was absolutely appalled. How could she say something like that and expect me to adhere to it? I made a vow right then to never pretend my faith doesn't matter; it was everything to me. I would absolutely not follow her stupid rules if it meant denying God's existence in my life.

    To make everything so much better, she went on, "With no embarassing God-issues at school, I think people will want to be friends with you. I mean, you're actually quite pretty. ...With make-up; yeah, you should wear make-up."

    With that, I wanted to break the fifth commandment, right then and there.