I remember having difficulty with the second to last essay. I kept spelling words wrong, but I don’t know how many I corrected before falling under ...he pickle-pickle spell.Yes, the pickle-pickle spell.“Pickle, pickle, every pickle pickles, pickle to the pickle.”At least that’s what I had written on my test before completely pickling out. I can only imagine what I must have said aloud.Now, I didn’t stay under the spell for its whole duration. No, nobody in the Group came and snapped me out of. I was finally on my way.What I seemed to be losing was Donna. Her letters when I first moved were long and full of her inner thoughts and dreams. Then they started getting further apart and a little more distant. By the time three of my letters went unanswered, I knew I had lost her. My heart was broken and it was then that I went into a writing frenzy.My big break came when I was at the studio early and playing one of my compositions. One of the biggest stars of the day heard it and asked to. More

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