"American History" Newspaper

I feel somewhat selfish for what I thought was my more important than this. Hello, my name is Elena. I am fourteen years old and in my freshman year now. It is November 22, 1963. I always envied the black girls at school who jump jump rope so well, and I myself could not. The only thing that kept me happy and was the only source of beauty and light for me was a boy name Eugene. I live in Dallas, Texas by the way and Eugene move in next to my place where I could see him from my kitchen window. I always watch Eugene and his family from the window after school, even when I did dishes too. I like Eugene a lot, he was so cute and when school started back up I look for him in every one of my classes; I could not find him. I decided to "run into him", he was shy but I knew he like me too. I remember Mr. DePalma, our teacher came into the class looking as if he was going to cry while trying to say something but it was too hard for him to speak. All of a sudden students in my classroom giggled, that is when he told us, "The President is dead, you idiots". We go dismissed out of school early because of it, honestly I didn`t think anything of it. Eugene and I had a History test coming up so we decided to study with each other after school. I remember walking in the house and my mother sat in front of the grainy picture of the television set. She was crying so much, I didn`t know what to do, I again wanted to feel something for our President, but could not find it in me. I walked to Eugene`s house to study, I knocked a couple of times when suddenly the door cracks open. I won`t forget what Eugene`s mother said to me, it seem long. This is what she said that day, "listen. Honey Eugene doesn`t want to study with you. He is a smart boy. Doesn`t need help. You understand me. I am truly sorry if he told you could come over. He cannot study with you. It`s nothing personal. You understand we won`t be in this place much longer, no need for him to get close to people-it`ll just make it harder for him later. Run back home now". Standing there shock, I walked away after Eugene`s mother closing the door behind me. I won`t remember this day, November 22, 1963. Our President got assassinated, I wanted to feel something because a lot of American definitely felt something but I didn`t I wanted too.