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Portrait of Myself as a Reader, Writer, Learner.

Annah Prosser

October 7, 2014

As a reader:

I’ve always tried to look for unique books. More or less I’ve always been into fiction writings that could be true. I’m interested in books about people and their lives. How they deal with their own issues, how they make the bigger decisions. My favorite book series so far would have to be Diary of a Teenage Girl; My name is Chloe. It talks about how Chloe goes through some hard times in her life. She’s sort of a grunge girl and wears these totally awesome clothes. She feels like crap and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She had a fall-out at school where this girl named Tiffany Knight always bullied her and beat her up. She turns her life over to God and starts a band with two other girls. Laura and Allie. Allie was a Wiccan, and her mother is single and hates her job. Laura and Chloe help Allie to get saved and they all start a band called Redemption. There are four books in the series about Chloe. I would have to say non-fiction books are my least favorite to read. Also books that are extremely complicated and seem to drag on.

As a writer:

As a writer, I consider myself to be a fiction writer. I’ve never been good at writing the facts about others or things. I try to make my writings interesting enough to stick with, but not action packed. I try to keep things simple and sweet, without being too much of a gooey love story and have a thrilling storyline behind it. Sometimes I write spin offs to other stories that I’ve read. I don’t write fan-fics, but I kind of take a story, and I change the characters and the whole plot and sort of twist it a little bit. The end results are kind of quirky and different. I like writing stories about different worlds, and different species. I can make up characters in my head, and know every detail about the way the should look, or how they would respond to some of the things that go on in my life. I like to think of different events that could happen to the characters I create and have them respond in the most ironic or reasonable ways. I can write up anything I want. I can make anything happen. The world is mine for a short while, and I am it’s creator.

As a learner:

As a learner, I view things differently. I take things in that don’t make sense to other people, and turn it all around sometimes. Sometimes when I learn something new I try to apply it to real-world scenarios. Other times, it takes a while to understand just what I’ve learned. It takes time to actually be able to think of a moment in life that would apply to the information.

I’ve never been good at listening to lectures or sitting still for more than a half-hour. I have ADHD so I get easily distracted. If what I’m learning doesn’t spark in interest in me, then I won’t learn it. I’ll only get confused or frustrated. It’s hard for me to understand things that aren’t easily applied to what’s going on around me.

When people go on and on about the same thing, and I’m still not getting it, then they might as well give up hope unless they can figure out a new way to explain it. I don’t like to shut new things down though, so don’t get me wrong. I’ve got a big life ahead of me, so I should get all the knowledge I can without trying to over-exceed the limits. I’m okay with being okay, and that’s okay!

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Annah Prosser


Memories are what make us. They shape us into what we are, and what we will become. The earliest memory in my mind is when I was at school in Caribou. I was sitting on a swing wearing a brand new outfit. My hair was in pigtails. The sun was shining. There were kids all around me, yelling and chasing each other. I was trying to swing as high as I could. I could feel the wind and in that moment I felt like even with no one close to me, I was happy. Maybe I was happy because I knew my life was just starting. I was becoming someone I could never change and I was proud of myself. Maybe I was just happy because I was swinging higher than the other kids. I can remember when we all had to rush to the doors and line up; I can still hear the giggles and laughter of all my classmates. The first day of school.

Living with a foster family was not as bad as it sounds. They were the only thing I knew and I cared about them. I lived in a small trailer with three other kids. Although they were all graduated. We all shared a bathroom and a computer. At the age of five I had my own television in my room and my closet was already filled with clothes that I would never wear. My room was your typical five year old’s room I suppose. I had dolls and stuffed animals everywhere. My mother would always clean up after me.

When I was five, things were much different. I could speak my mind and ask randomly annoying questions and not get questioned back. I could sit in my head and just let everything out. I could laugh and smile without fault. Life was easy when I was a five. I am some how still the same girl I was twelve years ago. I still think about everything. I still have questions about the way life works around us. I can’t imagine what it would be like to not have people around, even if I don’t have anyone close.

Kindergarten was almost non existent for me. I started kindergarten in Caribou, but when I was adopted I transferred to Monticello Elementary. Everyone knew everyone and we all got along. We all shared one room per grade. We talked and shared everything each other. I can’t remember who was closer to who, because everyone was tight with one another. Our classroom was small, but we had this big rug that wrapped all around the room. There was also a little play area where we could play games with each other. I remember we all used to play “house” and each of us had a role.

I can remember different things that would happen when I had just moved here. Mostly everyone would yell and scream and fight in my family. My older sisters were drama-filled and ignorant to the people around them.  My sister closest in age, but older than I, was always trying to make things up. She would lie constantly about everything and no one could handle it. On the Fourth of July she and I were hanging out and I made her so mad, she started screaming in the middle of the fair grounds. She ran up the street and told a cop that she was going to kill herself. I was unsure whether to laugh or cry at that point. She caused so much trouble that day. Everything that happened made all of us realize that some things happen that we can’t control.

When I was younger, my sisters and I would play several games outside. I remember once we were playing in the hayloft of the barn, and we pretended that we were in the movie King Kong. We tied my eldest sister, Tammy, up and left her there for a sacrifice. She was pretending to scream and get away. The rest of us pretended to be Amazon warriors and saved her. We would always play games around the yard like that. Usually they would be based on movies we saw, only we would add our own little twist to them. It was a ritual thing I guess.

Sometimes, I would get along with my siblings so well, it seemed as if I didn’t need any friends. But when I was by myself I had always managed to bring someone close enough to befriend them. Best friends are somewhat of a necessity growing up. You’ll always have people surrounding you and you’ll figure out where you belong in different groups or social circles. My best friend lived ten minutes away from me. She was shorter than I was, and she had long dark hair and blue eyes. She also had many, many freckles. She was the first person I talked to when I moved to town. We went to different schools, but we saw each other on the bus every day. Her and I did everything together. We would always hang out and talk about anything we could think of. When I had a bunny farm, her dad bought her a bunny from us and that’s how we first met. I showed her all of the rabbits and she got to pick out the one she wanted. We just hit it off after that. We are currently not friends, because she and I don’t go to the same school. She goes to Hodgdon High.

I went to four schools in Houlton. Out of all the years I spent in public schools, none of my memories were very happy. I spent most of my time socializing and not paying attention so consequently I was always falling behind in my classes. I never really fit in with a “group”. I would just sit alone and talk to random people. No one was really my close friend when I was in junior high. There was so much drama that it made it hard to focus on what really mattered.

When I was eight years old, I was probably loud and obnoxious. I had big dreams about living in New York. I was always singing random songs that I made up and I would tell everyone I was going to be a rockstar. I would beg my parents for a guitar or a drumset and they’d always tell me I wasn’t going to get one. When I finally did get one, I looked up tabs to every song I knew, and regretfully didn’t stick with it.

My all time favorite movie is The Breakfast Club. I’ve seen it at least seven times in the last two weeks. I can quote almost all of the lines.  I love The Breakfast Club because all the characters have completely different personalities and they come from different social scenes, but they end up getting along really well and becoming really good friends. They talk about things that are important to them and they just have a good time. I guess there isn’t really a good reason why I like that movie in particular. I’ve only just watched it for the first time last month. I feel like no matter what kind of mood I’m in, I can watch that movie and be in a good mood through the entire movie.

High school was an interesting experience for me. I learned a lot about who I can and cannot trust. I also learned that there are some people who won’t ever grow up. The food wasn’t terrible. I mean, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t completely disgusting.

High school sucked. I’m not going to lie. People always judged by first appearances and they never took the chance to get to know anyone after they’d already made their mind up. I feel like high school only teaches us who matters more in social events. Who can run the farthest when it comes to sports. I don’t need to pay attention to sports. I need to have a nice life and be able to learn without distraction from the bullshit that goes on all around me.

If I were to pick my three best characteristics, I wouldn’t know what to choose. I’ve never really tried anything completely new. I don’t FUCKING KNOW WHAT TO SAY RIGHT NOW. My three best characteristics, according to my friend Sara, are funny, caring, and a… PSYCHO MANIAC.

I never really thought long and hard about what occupations would be best for me. I’ve always thought about something in the music industry, but I don’t think I’d be able to make it in something like that. I don’t really sing well, and I have pretty bad stage fright. I was planning to go to Berklee, but I doubt I’d be able to make it there.

My family has been an influence to me by helping me see where I could have fixed things. They show me what I’m doing wrong and they help me prevent making the same mistakes I’ve made in the past. I’ve never thought about what I’d do without them. They’ve helped me through a lot of things and they’ve accepted me for me.

I admire Molly Ringwald. She plays Claire on The Breakfast Club. She also plays the mother of Amy Juergens, a teenage girl who got pregnant, in the show Secret Life of an American Teenager. She’s a great actress, and she’s got red hair. I have a thing for gingers. I also admire Ed Sheeran because he is a ginger. Although he is a ginger also, I do not admire Ryan Heath (Sara’s brother).

The entire fucking world bothers me, myself included. There are many of reasons why the world sucks. People mainly live for themselves and frankly don’t give a damn about what goes on in other peoples lives unless there’s some traumatic occurrence. I don’t get why people have to constantly judge other people for their pasts when they can’t change it.

I would love to visit New York City and see all the different places I could go. I’d love to visit my house so I can go back to bed. I would like to go to THE UNITED KINGDOM, BECAUSE I THINK BRITISH PEOPLE ARE VERY ATTRACTIVE.

My entire family has been pretty much the same. Except for the fact that five years ago we adopted three more girls into the house. They are currently still with us and we get along majestically.

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A (not really) Short Story - Coincidence and Fate

In the end, there was a beginning, and in this beginning, there was nothing. Nothing began to change. Nothing could see everything. It looked, and looked everywhere, but did not move. Nothing began to change again, into Coincidence. Coincidence saw more than she did before. When she looked around she could see other things that began at the ending. She saw Fate. Fate looked at her, and she looked back at him.

“Hello,” Fate said to her, looking around as she did, “I was nothing.”

“Hey,” Coincidence looked around casually, “ yeah, so?”

Coincidence began to walk. She walked around looking at everything that began at the end as nothing and turned into something. As if by chance, she’d walk into nothing that meant something to her. And along followed Fate. Fate watched Coincidence carefully. And wherever Coincidence went, Fate went too.

Coincidence walked until she saw something else. She stopped and looked upon an unfamiliar face. This face belonged to Lust. Lust looked at her with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Why, hello there, Coincidence,” Lust smirked, putting his arm around her.

“Uh, Hi.”

“What are you doing, sweet-heart,” Lust took her face in his hands and looked in her eyes.

“Uh, nothing.”

Fate stood behind this scene and just watched. He knew what was going to happen, but he just waited.

“I think you look lovely today, Coincidence,” Lust said impatiently, waiting for her to respond positively.

“Uh, thanks,” she said blankly, noticing her shoe was untied, “Excuse me,” she slipped out of his arms and knelt down to tie her shoe.

“C’mon, baby, let me get that for you,” Lust tried to pick her back up and tie it for her, but Coincidence shrugged him off and did it herself. Then she began to walk again.

“Where’re you going, honey?” Lust seemed confused at her walking away.

“Good-bye,” Coincidence replied.

So, Coincidence walked on, looking at everything around her. As she walked further, the world around her grew darker. But Coincidence walked on.

“Get out,” a deep voice came out of the darkness, “now”.

“Where are you?” Coincidence asked cautiously, stopping in her tracks.

“I’m everywhere. Where are you?” The voice got louder, closer, but Coincidence stayed put.

“I’m here.”

“Go away!”

“But why,” Coincidence asked curiously, patiently waiting for the mysterious voice to reveal itself.

“I said leave!”

“Who are you,” she persisted still.

“I am Wrath,” he replied, stepping out of the darkness.

His dark eyes were almost glowing with hate. His jaw clenched as he looked at her.

“Oh,” she replied, “I’m Coincidence.” She stuck out her hand for him to shake, but he ignored it.

“I don’t care. Leave me alone,” Wrath stomped away from her, and didn’t look back.

“Okay,” Coincidence hollered to him, “See you later!” Then she proceeded to walk on out of the darkness, and Fate followed. They walked silently through the world filled with nothing. Until they came across someone laying on the ground.

“Uh,” Coincidence poked the person with her foot, “are you okay?”

“Huh…. wha?….” the person grumbled sleepily.

“I asked if you were okay,” Coincidence stood over the sleepy man on the ground.

“Five more minutes, Mom,” he replied, rolling over without opening his eyes.

“I’m not Mom. I’m Coincidence,” she said, impatiently. He then peeked one eye open to see her standing over him.

“Oh… Hi…. I’m….. Sloth….. *snore*….” He fell asleep.

“Whatever.” Coincidence walked away, leaving Sloth sleeping on the ground. She left, and Fate followed. She walked until she heard someone crying.

“Hello,” she whispered, trying to listen to where the sound was coming from, “is anyone there?”

“Who’s there,” came a reply.

“Coincidence,” she said, looking at a girl sitting on the ground crying. Makeup running down her face and her beautiful blonde hair a mess.

“What’s your name,” Coincidence inquired.

“Envy,” the girl replied, looking up at Coincidence. Envy started crying again.

“Why are you crying?” Coincidence asked her, trying to comfort her.

“You’re just so pretty, and I’m just a mess. Why can’t I be like you?” Envy latched on to Coincidence and held fast.

“You can’t be me though,” Coincidence replied, startled at the touch.

“Why not,” Envy whined.

“Because I’m me, and you’re you,” Coincidence tried to reason, pulling Envy’s hands off her. She stood up and quickly walked away.

“Wait, don’t leave me!” Envy tried to get up, but one of her shoes were broken, so she tripped, which caused her to cry even more. But Coincidence kept walking, and Fate followed.

Coincidence walked on. She walked until she heard someone laughing. She followed the noise until she found another girl who almost ran into her. She was holding a mirror, and wasn’t paying attention to where she was going.

“Hey, watch it,” Coincidence said to her, steadying herself.

“Excuse you, I’m walking here.” The girl replied, without looking up from her mirror.

“Well, I was walking here first, you don’t need to be rude. Who even are you?”

“You mean you don’t know me? Hah. Quit joking. I’m Pride. Where have you been living, under a rock or something?” Now the girl looked up from her mirror to scowl at Coincidence.

“No, I’ve been living no where, because I was nothing, but now I’m something, that’s Coincidence.” Coincidence replied defensively.

“I’ll say you were nothing,” Pride retorqued, sauntering off. So, Coincidence walked off too, and Fate followed. So, Coincidence walked still. She walked until she heard a loud noise.


Coincidence looked around the corner and saw a very large man stuffing his face with all kinds of food.


“Uhm, Hell-,”




“HEY! I’M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU!” Coincidence lost patience with him.

“Whoa, no need to yell my fine friend. Who’re you anyways? Have I met you before? Man this is good food. I’m Gluttony. Did I mention this food was good?” Gluttony rambled on and on about food. Coincidence slowly backed away, and Fate followed.

Coincidence walked further and further, and she began to grow tired. She saw a hill that was so green, she thought it would be the perfect spot to rest her legs. But when she climbed the hill, she noticed that it wasn’t grass, but money that made this hill so green.

“WHAT’RE YOU DOING? YOU’RE GOING TO CRINKLE ALL MY MONEY!” Someone yelled at her from the bottom of the hill.

“Who’s there,” replied Coincidence from the top.


“Oh, sorry,” Coincidence replied slowly. She turned and walked away, and Fate followed.

Once she got to the bottom of the hill she sat and thought about all the people she met. Not one of them really took the time to get to know HER for who she was. Rather they used her for their own benefit.  

She grew tired of trying to find something, or someone, to fill the emptiness inside her. She began to think about the people she met earlier. Lust had only wanted her for himself. Wrath didn’t want anything to do with her period. Sloth didn’t even know she was there, because he was asleep the entire time. Envy tried to convince her that she was this gorgeous person, because she felt she wasn’t pretty enough herself. Pride had only noticed herself and didn’t choose to accompany her, for she was nothing. Gluttony just wanted to eat all day. Lastly, Greed yelled at her for crinkling his money. She wasn’t sure what to do from here.

She decided to turn back and maybe go back to being nothing again, but as she turned around, she bumped into Fate, who was following her the whole time.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were there. Funny seeing you again,” Coincidence muttered, looking at the ground trying to avoid eye contact.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Fate said, not taking his eyes off her, “for this was meant to be.” He then casually took her hand in his, and they walked back together. They talked about all the different miracles of the world that were once nothing. They then decided that they would try to change, for the better of the both of them and the others around them who were surrounded by lust, greed, envy, gluttony, laziness, wrath and pride.

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Annah Prosser


Shaking with the bottle in my hand. I’ve tried this too many times before. Why can’t I stop? I can’t feel myself shaking, but I can hear the rattling of the pills in the bottle. I empty the contents into my hand and down them all. I try to think of something that once made me happy. Hanging out with friends? Listening to music? Singing to myself as if there was no one else around? None of these things satisfied me anymore. I tried too hard to be someone everyone else liked. I failed first-hand at all of it.

The only sound I hear is the tick-tocking of the clock on my shelf. My mother had picked that out for me. It was Hello Kitty. I had decorated my entire room psychedelically and it was all my own. My creativity was something I had valued, but now I value no part of me at all.  My mind continues to race through all the times when I was alone at school. Sitting in the cafeteria at my own table. I always sat there and watched what other people were doing. Listening to the conversations going on around me.

Was I going to miss any of it? I hoped not. I don’t want to deal with any of the people who told me they cared. I don’t want to see the faces of the people I convinced myself to care about. None of them cared about me. None of them understood my hopes and dreams.

I snap out of my daze when I hear a knocking on my door. It’s only a small sound, but it makes my head throb. My mom walks in and stands in the doorway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you failed your geometry test?” She looks at me with such disappointment. She always looked at me the same way.

“I didn’t want you to get mad,” I reply. I wasn’t sure which test she was referring to, because I had failed them all.

“Why are you acting like this,” she questions, expecting me to be happy, as always.

“I don’t know,” I’m trying to understand what she’s saying, but her words are slurring together. Or maybe those are mine.

“What’s going on,” she feigns concern like she’s always been interested in the dramatic occurrences I call my life.

“Nothing, just tired,” I try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. The pills have worked their way to my stomach and I can taste every color in the room, see every sound.

“You’ve been staying up too late, that’s why you’re so tired. You should take responsibility in something for once,” she’s suddenly so loud, so angry.

“You wouldn’t know what I’ve been doing, you never pay attention. Why start now?” The room is spinning now. I suddenly feel everything at once.

“How dare you! I’m your mother and you will not talk to me in that manner,” she’s starting to turn red in the face and I can see the words coming out of her mouth at full speed.

“Technically, you’re not my mother, you’re my guardian, and I’m only talking. I thought that’s what you wanted me to do,” I’m confused at this point. Wasn’t she the one who got so pissed when I didn’t say a single word when spoken to? Why is she acting like this now?

“You live in my house, you will follow my rules. Do you understand me? You’re grounded,” she punishes me like she knows exactly what I like doing.

“When did houses come into this? I’m okay with being grounded. I’d rather do nothing,” I was starting to feel sick now. I feel like I’m upside down and the world is sideways.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere. Not allowed to do anything. Not allowed to talk to anyone-”

“Who do I have to talk to? It’s not like anyone talks to me anyways,” I’m trying to stay focused on her, but she keeps spinning around in my head.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play that card. You always do this. You always pity yourself. You need to get over it when things don’t go your way. Not everything is about you, Annah. You aren’t the center of attention,” she’s yelling now, trying to tell me exactly what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking.

“I don’t want to be the center of attention anyways. I’d rather no one looked at me and just let me disappear,” I’m drifting away now. Slowly everything is dimming and my world is gone. Everything I’ve ever done has caught up to me. All my mistakes, and flaws are coming all together. Every enemy I’ve made, every stranger I’ve run into. Everything I’ve decided, has been wrong.

Everything was always wrong. The words I spoke. The friends I had. They were all wrong. My goals and morals were all wrong. Everything I stood up for, and believed in. Nothing I had ever done was right. I was slowly realizing that my whole life I was trying to be something I wasn’t. I was trying to be like everyone else.

As I’m waking up I can hear that same tick-tocking on my shelf above my head. My ears are ringing and my stomach is on fire. I can’t move a single muscle without them sending shocks of pain through my body. My emotions are put aside, as I struggle to get up.  My world is spinning, turning black again. I can feel the floor under my feet as I twist and turn blindly.

I’m spinning violently, but my feet are plunging forward in defiance. My vision is blurring into a black nothingness. I attempt to take the stairs down to the bathroom, tripping and fumbling down each one. I’m gripping the railing as if it’s my life line.

There’s the door. The bathroom, the light switch. It’s not working. Or maybe I can’t see. Everything has gone dark. My mind is throbbing and my hands are searching for the wall. My feet are failing, and I trip over the chair by the sink. I’m trying to crawl to the toilet while my stomach is churning. My face is damp with sweat, or are those tears? My entire life is going to be taken from me, and I’m not ready.

Everything is fading now, and all I am is numb. I just lay here. I don’t even have enough energy to flush. The tiles are cold on my sweating face. I’m swirling as if I’m the one being flushed instead.

My mom walks in and sees me laying on the floor by the toilet. She starts screaming at me about getting up, about not getting sick on the floor. I try to sit up, but I empty my stomach right at her feet.

“Annah! UGH,” she’s rushing out of the room, “CONRAD! ANNAH NEEDS TO GO TO THE ER! I NEED YOU TO CARRY HER TO THE CAR!”

My father comes in a lifts me out of the bathroom into my mom’s Toyota Prius.

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Film Review - The Breakfast Club

Annah Prosser

September 24, 2014

The Breakfast Club

“Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, what we did was wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are, what do you care? You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.

You see us as,


Anthony Michael Hall


Brian Johnson,


Emilio Esteves


Andrew Clark,


Ally Sheedy


Allison Reynolds,


Molly Ringwald


Claire Standish,



-Judd Nelson


John Bender.-

Correct? That’s the way we saw each other at seven o’clock this morning. We were brainwashed.”


Paul Gleason


Richard Vernon

John Kapelos



The Breakfast Club, a comedy/drama, was previewed in February 15, 1985, and was written by John Hughes. The movie is 97 minutes long and is rated R. This film debuted at #3 at the box office. Grossing $45,875,171 domestically and $51,525,171 worldwide. The movie had a $1 million budget, with a single-location shoot. This made it easier for filming to be done.

The story-line of this movie is about five kids who all got in trouble for different reasons.

Claire skipped class to go shopping.

John pulled a false alarm fire drill.

Allison was there because she had nothing better to do.

Andrew taped Larry Lester’s buns together.

Brian had a flare gun in his locker.

The theme of this movie is dealing with the family struggles of being a teenager along with the peer pressure inflicted on each individual. Stereotyping is also a theme for this movie because it’s clear that they all think this of each other in the beginning of the movie, but as they get to know each other throughout the eight hours spent with one another, they notice that there are so many differences AND similarities between all of them. Being understood by adults and other peers the same age is a theme as well.

At the end of the film the essay that was written is as follows;


“Dear Mr Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question?

Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club.”


  1. Don’t You (Forget About Me)

Performed by Simple Minds

Produced by Keith Forsey

Words and Music by Keith Forsey and Steve Schiff

  1. Waiting

Performed by Elizabeth Daily

Produced by Keith Forsey

Words and Music by Keith Forsey and Steve Schiff

Courtesy of A&M Records

  1. Didn’t I Tell You

Performed by Laurie Forsey

Produced by Keith Forsey

Words and Music by Keith Forsey and Steve Schiff

  1. Fire In The Twilight

Performed by Wang Chung

Produced by Keith Forsey

Words by Jack Hues

Music by Keith Forsey and Steve Schiff

  1. We Are Not Alone

Performed by Karla DeVito

Produced by David Anderle and Steve Goldstein

Words and Music by Karla DeVito, Robby Benson, and Steve Goldstein

  1. Heart Too Hot To Hold

Performed by Jesse Johnson and Stephanie Spruill

Produced by Keith Forsey

Words by Keith Forsey, Laurie Forsey, Jesse Johnson, and Michael Frondelli

Music by Keith Forsey and Laurie Forsey

  1. Colonel Bogey March


Written by Kenneth Alford, pseudonym of F. J. Ricketts

Whistled by the Breakfast Club

  1. Sunshine Of Your Love

Written by Jack Bruce, Eric Clapton, Pete Brown

Performed by Cream

  1. The Reggae


Written by Keith Forsey

Performed by Keith Forsey

  1. Dream Montage


Written by Gary Chang

Performed by Ed Alton, Gary Chang, ‘Curt Taylor Neishloss’

[Played during the detention scene without dialogue in the school library]


  1. Love Theme


Written by Keith Forsey

Performed by Keith Forsey