1

William Graham

ENGL 1102--Causey

February 5, 2024

Fragmented Ideology Narrative

People with Muddy Mouths

1. In my tenth-grade math class, my mind buzzed with thoughts of geometry and algebra as

I tackled equations and multiplied monomials on paper. Eventually, the teacher told us we

needed to be in groups of four. Fortunately, I had two classmates, Kyle and Shea, to

collaborate with. While Kyle and I had a tight bond dating back to middle school, Shea

and I were mere acquaintances. Our mornings were often spent immersed in Minecraft on

our mobile devices, cementing our friendship further. To my surprise, our teacher

assigned us to groups of four, and Shea introduced me to Amir, a new acquaintance of

hers in the class. Little did I know, this would mark the beginning of one of the most

profound friendships I would ever experience. Amir struggled with the class material,

often requiring our assistance, but our conversations blossomed on the days he attended,

revealing numerous shared interests. We found genuine joy in each other's company. As

summer break approached, we eagerly awaited our report cards, which arrived in sturdy

yellow envelopes. While I maintained a modest 3.5 GPA, both Kyle and Shea boasted

outstanding scores. However, Amir stated and surprised us all with a 5.0 GPA.

2. In the final year of high school, I found myself rebuilding a friendship with Isabella, an

old middle-school acquaintance. We used to be so close until high school eventually

separated us but there was also a bit of drama in out friend group. Our conversations,
2

once filled with laughter and reminiscence, took a sad turn as Isabella informed me about

her struggles with depression and her tumultuous relationship with her parents. At first, I

listened with empathy and compassion, offering a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic

ear to hear her woes. A friend of mine was interested in her, his name was Nick, and I

thought their relationship would be amazing because they felt perfect for each other. Nick

was one of my best friends at the time and I knew he was a friendly guy who wanted

everyone to be happy. I got them to start talking, and to my surprise, it worked! They hit

it off and they were best friends. However, things were only passable for a bit, they began

to disagree with each other. But as time passed, I couldn't shake the feeling that

something wasn't quite right. Isabella's stories seemed wrong, and there were many

loopholes in her stories about home life. Despite my reservations, I continued to lend a

sympathetic ear, believing that my support could help her pain; I couldn’t call someone

out and tell them they are a liar because I would feel guilty if I was wrong. But as the

weeks turned into months, I began to feel the toll of Isabella's constant need for attention

and validation. Her calls and messages became increasingly demanding, draining my

energy and leaving me feeling depleted. It was as if she thrived on the turmoil she

created, feeding off my concern like a parasite draining its host. I eventually decided to

cut her off and prioritized my own health.

3. Growing up in a close-knit family, my grandmother played a central role in our lives. Her

warm smile and comforting presence were constants in my childhood, a source of love

and stability in an ever-changing world. But as I grew older, I began to see a different

side of my grandmother, one shrouded in deception and manipulation. At first I never

3

noticed because I was a child or too ignorant at the time to notice. But over time, those

lies grew into something more insidious, weaving a tangled web of deceit that threatened

to tear our family apart. At first, I was naive, believing that my grandmother had our best

interests at heart. I couldn't ignore the warning signs any longer. Her manipulation knew

no bounds, using guilt and emotional blackmail to bend us to her will, she wanted me to

be on her side all the time and turn me against my own mother. She would twist the truth

to suit her own agenda, sowing seeds of discord and resentment within our family.

Despite all that, though she was still family, I couldn't bring myself to turn my back on

my grandmother. She was still the woman who had held me in her arms as a child,

comforting me in times of need and celebrating my triumphs with unwavering pride. And

so, I learned to navigate the murky waters of my grandmother's lies and manipulation

with grace and resilience. I set boundaries to protect myself from her toxic behavior,

refusing to be drawn into her web of deceit. But even as I distanced myself from her

manipulative tactics, I never stopped loving her. The same grandmother who had shaped

my childhood with her love and wisdom lay beneath the layers of deception. In the end, I

chose to focus on the good memories we shared, cherishing the moments of joy and

laughter that outweighed the pain of her lies. And though our relationship may be fraught

with challenges, I will always respect and love my grandmother, for better or for worse.