My dad is a pedophile. Yes, I know that's a pretty intense way to start this essay off, but I don't know how else to begin. It was the last week of seventh grade and me and my best friend had just walked into the house. My mom, brother, sister, and dad were all in the living room and the energy was off. My mom told my best friends she had to go home and she needed to talk to me. I was so confused. Are we moving? Did the dig die? Did Grandma die? Are you getting a divorce? She said my dad was leaving the house and he wasn't allowed here anymore. I was shattered. I loved my dad he was such a good dad. Always played around with us and bought us the things we begged for at the store. he did the things mom wouldn't like let us stay up late and let us sit in the front seat. I didn't know it could get worse. I was already hysterical crying and she said there was more. "He's been touching your brother," she said tears in her eyes. Excuse my language but what the fuck. I can't even begin to explain what happened to me then. The conflicting emotions between thinking of my innocent six-year-old little brother and my dad who in my mind was perfect. His being in jail was the only thing that I thought could make me feel better. Little did I know he wouldn't actually get sentenced for six months and then, when he actually made it there, he'd be in for a little over a year. I was angry for a long time. I was depressed and anxious all the time and I couldn't go to school in person. I ended up switching to online school in eighth grade which sent my grades plummeting. I was a straight-A student before this. Now, I had to get an extension into July just to have time to finish my work and pass by the skin of my teeth. That year sent me back in math so far and I was put into the lowest math class possible. The school system isn't set up in a way in which you can easily move up, so I stayed in those low-effort, easy classes until my senior year. yeah, I have amazing grades now that I've pulled myself together, but I am most definitely not being challenged. The moral of the story is I'm glad he paid for his actions even if it wasn't as much as I wanted. I believe the Justice System has a long way to go, but despite this, I am thankful for it.

I'm not sure I would force the world to read any one particular book. Everybody takes away different things from the books they read. It all depends on your background, reading level, mental state, and a plethora of other factors. When I was at my lowest, Turtles All the Way Down by John Green was my saving grace. I was in the deepest darkest hole I had ever dropped into and this book helped to lift me out of it. But, I wouldn't say that everyone should read this book. Even if I read that book again today it would make nearly as much of an impact on me as it did then. I also don't want to be self-centered and simply say one of my favorites like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban or The Silent Patient. I could say with absolute certainty that there would be a good chunk of people who wouldn't care for those books as much as I do. Especially when someone forces you to read a book, it makes reading much less interesting and enjoyable. Books really do have the power to change lives, but only the right book could do it. If I had to have everyone in the world read a book, then that probably means I have some sort of immortal power. So, before making the world read, I would use these said powers to find or even create a book that has everything they need to hear. A story that genuinely touches them and profoundly changes them for the better.