Creative Works… 212 What Reading is Like by Gabriella Orozco
I loved the smell of books. No page looked identical to the other, and each book had a different hue. I even enjoyed adding a doodle to the colorful art as a child. Books such as Biscuit the Puppy, If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, Click-Clack-Moo, and Alvie Eats Soup are not only part of my core memories, but my experience. I enjoyed it when the teacher would pick my book for “Reading of the Day!” and everyone would nod and agree that the book I chose was “The best!” In all honesty, it fed into my little ego and gave me a sense of empowerment. After learning the basics, I moved on to more extensive books: Wait Till Helen comes, the Goosebump series, Nancy Drew, and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. My taste only got morbid, yet I found joy in reading everything I could get my hands on, learning about what comes out of other people’s imagination. There was nothing that could harm my bundle of imagination. It always felt safe in my mind. It wasn’t until now, as an adult, that I wished I didn’t know how to read. Not in a way that’s insensitive to people who don’t have the opportunity to learn to read; I mean it in a way that, if there were a possibility to turn it On and Off, I would use it. When I was 12, I read “From the State Penitentiary” in bold red letters. It was a letter from my older brother, who had disappeared from my life when I was nine, and I never asked questions about where he was, since it was always “far away.” When I tore the letter open, it was a hand-drawn card for my upcoming thirteenth birthday. On another occasion, when I told someone, “I never want to see you again,” they dared to leave a letter on my car wind-
