by Sam Crowder
Once upon a time in a vast forest, there lived a little leprechaun. This leprechaun’s name was William. William was a rather strange leprechaun because he had never been outside of the boundaries of his forest, The Forest of Leprechaun’s. This forest was ominous with its dark and exceedingly tall trees hanging over the forest. Some gnomes of this forest say that in the darkest of nights the trees would come alive.
William had been wanting to get out of the forest for years because he wanted to explore the big cities. The one thing holding him back from getting to these cities was his mother. She wanted him to stay with her because she could no longer take of herself and needed him to be there. He couldn’t leave because his mother kept a watch-guard there at all times. He knew that his only chance of ever getting out of the forest was when a night came that even a keen-eyed owl couldn’t see through.
The perfect night of his escape had finally come. On this night, it was so cloudy that you could not see one bit of the moon nor any of the stars. William had remembered the lessons of the gnomes and wondered if on the darkest of nights the trees would actually come to life.
That night every step he took through that dark forest was followed by a quick look to each side of him. He could not bear the thought of being snatched up by a tree and taken away forever.
One moment after he thought that, a light appeared in front of him. His walk turned into a jog, and then a run. He had finally got out of that forest. The gnomes were wrong about the trees, he had made it.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Left In New York City
By Alex Menell
“Ribbit. Ribbit,” croaked Fred.
Fred is Mitchell’s pet frog. Mitchell is my older brother, and he has a ton of pets. He has two geckos, one snake, five fish, one iguana, and finally Fred, his frog. I on the other hand, being the youngest, only have a pet mouse, Jenny.
I have had Jenny for two years now. She is my only friend asides from my best friend Danielle, that is. Danielle and I became friends in kindergarten. We always went to each other’s houses after school, and every Monday and Friday we made chocolate chip cookies. We spend almost every second together, weekends, days off of school, after school, and even during school.
There was only one time that we didn’t spend together, which was Sundays. Every Sunday, she took the long drive from Long Island, where we lived, to New York City, to see her dad. I went with her once, and we had so much fun. Her dad took us to see The Lion King on Broadway, and then took us to his favorite restaurant, Serendipity. They have actual foot-long hot dogs, and frozen hot chocolate that we all split.
I still remember the look on her face when we left her dad. She was really sad, and the streams of tears that were coming from her eyes left dark marks on her red dress. I had tried my best to comfort her on the way home, but it was no use. She was devastated. It was so hard for her to only see her dad once a week. She was so fragile, and seemed to lose a small part of her every time she left her dad, as if leaving a part of her behind with him.
So I wasn’t surprised when Danielle disappeared all together.
“Ribbit. Ribbit,” croaked Fred.
Fred is Mitchell’s pet frog. Mitchell is my older brother, and he has a ton of pets. He has two geckos, one snake, five fish, one iguana, and finally Fred, his frog. I on the other hand, being the youngest, only have a pet mouse, Jenny.
I have had Jenny for two years now. She is my only friend asides from my best friend Danielle, that is. Danielle and I became friends in kindergarten. We always went to each other’s houses after school, and every Monday and Friday we made chocolate chip cookies. We spend almost every second together, weekends, days off of school, after school, and even during school.
There was only one time that we didn’t spend together, which was Sundays. Every Sunday, she took the long drive from Long Island, where we lived, to New York City, to see her dad. I went with her once, and we had so much fun. Her dad took us to see The Lion King on Broadway, and then took us to his favorite restaurant, Serendipity. They have actual foot-long hot dogs, and frozen hot chocolate that we all split.
I still remember the look on her face when we left her dad. She was really sad, and the streams of tears that were coming from her eyes left dark marks on her red dress. I had tried my best to comfort her on the way home, but it was no use. She was devastated. It was so hard for her to only see her dad once a week. She was so fragile, and seemed to lose a small part of her every time she left her dad, as if leaving a part of her behind with him.
So I wasn’t surprised when Danielle disappeared all together.
The Underwater World
By Matt Linton
“Dad I got one!” I shouted over my shoulder. The fishing line suddenly became taught, the pole bending under the immense pressure. I began to become a little nervous. This was the first time I had ever been deep sea fishing, and it was discomforting to think about what would happen if I fell overboard. The harness that kept me strapped into the seat began to strain from the pulling of the fish.
“Nice catch, I can all ready tell it’s a big one!” my dad shouted over the waves. The pain from the straps started to become quite painful, the tough material biting into my skin. I could now see a dark shape in the water, wriggling and writhing, refusing to give up. I watched it for a while, fascinated by the creature’s strength. Suddenly, the massive fish jumped up into the air, the water streaming off its fins. It seemed to freeze in mid-air for a moment, everything still, but then it slammed back into the water, plunging down, down, down. The boat started tilt, crates and barrels slamming into the downhill rail, some careening off the side. I could hear my dad shouting to me, but I did not hear what he was saying. All I could imagine was the dark loathsome depths below me. There was a sharp crack, and I felt my chair break free from the boat, the water coming closer and closer. I managed to unbuckle myself from the harness, but got my leg tangled in the fishing line. I streamed down deeper into the water, the pressure in my ears increasing. My lungs burned, my head hurt. I opened my eyes, noticing a faint light around me. I looked down, there below me, was a city.
“Dad I got one!” I shouted over my shoulder. The fishing line suddenly became taught, the pole bending under the immense pressure. I began to become a little nervous. This was the first time I had ever been deep sea fishing, and it was discomforting to think about what would happen if I fell overboard. The harness that kept me strapped into the seat began to strain from the pulling of the fish.
“Nice catch, I can all ready tell it’s a big one!” my dad shouted over the waves. The pain from the straps started to become quite painful, the tough material biting into my skin. I could now see a dark shape in the water, wriggling and writhing, refusing to give up. I watched it for a while, fascinated by the creature’s strength. Suddenly, the massive fish jumped up into the air, the water streaming off its fins. It seemed to freeze in mid-air for a moment, everything still, but then it slammed back into the water, plunging down, down, down. The boat started tilt, crates and barrels slamming into the downhill rail, some careening off the side. I could hear my dad shouting to me, but I did not hear what he was saying. All I could imagine was the dark loathsome depths below me. There was a sharp crack, and I felt my chair break free from the boat, the water coming closer and closer. I managed to unbuckle myself from the harness, but got my leg tangled in the fishing line. I streamed down deeper into the water, the pressure in my ears increasing. My lungs burned, my head hurt. I opened my eyes, noticing a faint light around me. I looked down, there below me, was a city.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Dive
By Jamie Redman
The ocean walk was long and early. The scent of the salty sea filled the air as the waves crashed onto the shore. One after the other, I could hear them and they soothed my worries and cleared my head of all thoughts. I felt empty like book without words. I loved it.
The few days I would spend here had to be jam-packed with all the possible activities I could think of, starting with scuba diving. I had yet to try it and couldn’t wait.
We suited up in full body suits that stuck to our every crease like plastic wrap. Next, we had to put on a facemask with the same feel but barely leaving any room to breath. The goggles were the easiest to get on and to wear while waiting to dive under. However, the flippers were a great challenge. They squeezed onto your feet and when you tried to walk normally they would fold up leaving your destination nowhere but the ground.
Finally, it was time to dive. I had hoped the preparation would all pay off and be everything I hoped and more. It was. The coral was so vibrant and colorful and I got to see up close the marine creatures living in the dark caves. From out the darkness there was a light. I had done some research and as it swam towards me I recognized it. It was a deep-sea anglerfish. I had never seen anything like it up close. Its razor sharp teeth poking out of its jaw and the pole coming out of its head had amazed me. It was like a unicorn’s horn but with a skinnier horn and a bright glowing ball on the end just hanging there. I was afraid of it. My dive was over.
The ocean walk was long and early. The scent of the salty sea filled the air as the waves crashed onto the shore. One after the other, I could hear them and they soothed my worries and cleared my head of all thoughts. I felt empty like book without words. I loved it.
The few days I would spend here had to be jam-packed with all the possible activities I could think of, starting with scuba diving. I had yet to try it and couldn’t wait.
We suited up in full body suits that stuck to our every crease like plastic wrap. Next, we had to put on a facemask with the same feel but barely leaving any room to breath. The goggles were the easiest to get on and to wear while waiting to dive under. However, the flippers were a great challenge. They squeezed onto your feet and when you tried to walk normally they would fold up leaving your destination nowhere but the ground.
Finally, it was time to dive. I had hoped the preparation would all pay off and be everything I hoped and more. It was. The coral was so vibrant and colorful and I got to see up close the marine creatures living in the dark caves. From out the darkness there was a light. I had done some research and as it swam towards me I recognized it. It was a deep-sea anglerfish. I had never seen anything like it up close. Its razor sharp teeth poking out of its jaw and the pole coming out of its head had amazed me. It was like a unicorn’s horn but with a skinnier horn and a bright glowing ball on the end just hanging there. I was afraid of it. My dive was over.
Monday, October 13, 2008
The Sea
By Alec Addicott
Whoosh… Whoosh… The sea lulled itself to sleep, and the sun was setting. A seagull flew through the air, calling in its harsh voice. Suddenly, a great eagle swooped down and grabbed a fish from the blue, dark, threatening mirror that was the sea. A drop of dark blood fell from the wounded fish and landed by the waves.
Tom suddenly sat up. He had been sleeping for well over half the day. The sun had already set, and the night sky was sprinkled with stars. He could see lights in the distance that pinpointed the location of the small town. He thought he could hear the braying of whales under the dark turquoise waves, which told a story he could not possibly understand.
He watched as the last fishing boats beached themselves on the shore by the town. The sand felt coarse and rough under his bare back. As he sifted through the grains, he could practically hear small, unintelligible voices emanating from the tiny pebbles. A gull swooped and dived through the air, squawking to its heart’s content. As he stared, a gigantic eagle dove and caught a fish from the surface of the ocean. It cried in a yell of victory and flew away to its unseen nest in the cliffs above.
Finally, he fell asleep listening to the gentle waves glide in and out.
Whoosh… Whoosh… The sea lulled itself to sleep, and the sun was setting. A seagull flew through the air, calling in its harsh voice. Suddenly, a great eagle swooped down and grabbed a fish from the blue, dark, threatening mirror that was the sea. A drop of dark blood fell from the wounded fish and landed by the waves.
Tom suddenly sat up. He had been sleeping for well over half the day. The sun had already set, and the night sky was sprinkled with stars. He could see lights in the distance that pinpointed the location of the small town. He thought he could hear the braying of whales under the dark turquoise waves, which told a story he could not possibly understand.
He watched as the last fishing boats beached themselves on the shore by the town. The sand felt coarse and rough under his bare back. As he sifted through the grains, he could practically hear small, unintelligible voices emanating from the tiny pebbles. A gull swooped and dived through the air, squawking to its heart’s content. As he stared, a gigantic eagle dove and caught a fish from the surface of the ocean. It cried in a yell of victory and flew away to its unseen nest in the cliffs above.
Finally, he fell asleep listening to the gentle waves glide in and out.
The Late Arrival
By Lillian Siegel
Charlie paced back and forth in the front hallway of his ancient, rickety house. He felt like jumping up and down and stomping his feet, but he was afraid the roof would fall in. He wanted to run outside and scream at the world of slow mail delivery, but he was afraid the neighbors would complain just as they did about his outrageous birthday party last week.
Suddenly the phone rang. “Hello?” Charlie answered it.
“Charlie, did it come yet?” his friend James huffed into the phone.
“No. Don’t you think I would have called you if it did?” he replied, annoyed.
“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” James teased.
“Yes, because I was up all night waiting for this silly package to come,” Charlie retorted. He paused. “Do you think maybe it’s not going to come? Do you think she forgot about me?”
“Charlie, no. Don’t think that way. You’re so pessimistic. It was your birthday and your mom loves you. She wouldn’t forget,” James reassured.
“My birthday was two days ago. Why didn’t it come then? And besides, I haven’t seen her in years. She might not even remember my existence,” Charlie sulked.
“No one forgets their own son’s sixteenth birthday. The postal service is probably sluggish this week. Anyways Charlie, you sound really exhausted. The package is going to come eventually, so I really think you should just go back to sleep.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Charlie agreed. “And even if it doesn’t come…”
“It will. Now go back to bed,” James said sternly.
“Fine. You win,” Charlie snapped. He slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter. He started heading up the creaky stairs when he heard the noise he had wanted so badly to hear. The doorbell rang. It had to be the mail.
Charlie paced back and forth in the front hallway of his ancient, rickety house. He felt like jumping up and down and stomping his feet, but he was afraid the roof would fall in. He wanted to run outside and scream at the world of slow mail delivery, but he was afraid the neighbors would complain just as they did about his outrageous birthday party last week.
Suddenly the phone rang. “Hello?” Charlie answered it.
“Charlie, did it come yet?” his friend James huffed into the phone.
“No. Don’t you think I would have called you if it did?” he replied, annoyed.
“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” James teased.
“Yes, because I was up all night waiting for this silly package to come,” Charlie retorted. He paused. “Do you think maybe it’s not going to come? Do you think she forgot about me?”
“Charlie, no. Don’t think that way. You’re so pessimistic. It was your birthday and your mom loves you. She wouldn’t forget,” James reassured.
“My birthday was two days ago. Why didn’t it come then? And besides, I haven’t seen her in years. She might not even remember my existence,” Charlie sulked.
“No one forgets their own son’s sixteenth birthday. The postal service is probably sluggish this week. Anyways Charlie, you sound really exhausted. The package is going to come eventually, so I really think you should just go back to sleep.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Charlie agreed. “And even if it doesn’t come…”
“It will. Now go back to bed,” James said sternly.
“Fine. You win,” Charlie snapped. He slammed the phone down on the kitchen counter. He started heading up the creaky stairs when he heard the noise he had wanted so badly to hear. The doorbell rang. It had to be the mail.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Christmas Eve
By Lindsey Fajardo
I woke up with the sweet smell of chocolate chip and sugar cookies just taken out of the oven. I went over to the kitchen and saw my mom baking cookies in different shapes like stars and hearts and Christmas trees. “Christmas!!!!!!!” I screamed. I gave my mom a quick kiss on her rosy cheek and took a chocolate chip cookie. They tasted pretty good, the chocolate chips were melting already and there was a hint of cinnamon on the sugar cookies. I ran over to my room and put a big jacket on with some boots, mittens, and a scarf. Then I suddenly felt a burst of energy and I flung the door open and threw myself on to the fluffy white snow outside. Above me, I watched as the little puffs of snow began to fall slowly and then faster every minute. There were snowflakes in the air and as one fell on my tongue, it began to hail. The snow fell down rapidly, stinging my skin like a thousand knives. “Aaaaaah!!!” I yelled. I sprinted inside and quickly made myself a steaming hot chocolate. My nose was red and stuffy. I put on some warm clothes, a long sleeve shirt and a blue pair of pants. As I drank, the delightful chocolate swirled around my tongue and my throat began to burn. “Ouch, that’s so hot!” I went over to my mom and put the boiling cup on a counter in front of her. I sipped my hot chocolate little by little and after a while, I was already in my car, driving to Home Depot, where we would get our beautiful Christmas tree. Enormous trees whizzed by me and then, we were there. I could see the perfect tree in the distance, “That one!!!!” I yelled.
I woke up with the sweet smell of chocolate chip and sugar cookies just taken out of the oven. I went over to the kitchen and saw my mom baking cookies in different shapes like stars and hearts and Christmas trees. “Christmas!!!!!!!” I screamed. I gave my mom a quick kiss on her rosy cheek and took a chocolate chip cookie. They tasted pretty good, the chocolate chips were melting already and there was a hint of cinnamon on the sugar cookies. I ran over to my room and put a big jacket on with some boots, mittens, and a scarf. Then I suddenly felt a burst of energy and I flung the door open and threw myself on to the fluffy white snow outside. Above me, I watched as the little puffs of snow began to fall slowly and then faster every minute. There were snowflakes in the air and as one fell on my tongue, it began to hail. The snow fell down rapidly, stinging my skin like a thousand knives. “Aaaaaah!!!” I yelled. I sprinted inside and quickly made myself a steaming hot chocolate. My nose was red and stuffy. I put on some warm clothes, a long sleeve shirt and a blue pair of pants. As I drank, the delightful chocolate swirled around my tongue and my throat began to burn. “Ouch, that’s so hot!” I went over to my mom and put the boiling cup on a counter in front of her. I sipped my hot chocolate little by little and after a while, I was already in my car, driving to Home Depot, where we would get our beautiful Christmas tree. Enormous trees whizzed by me and then, we were there. I could see the perfect tree in the distance, “That one!!!!” I yelled.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Drawings
By Paul Wat
Red stung my eyes as the sun shone in my eyes. “Go away,” I mumbled. Turning over, I suddenly felt no support under me as I toppled down onto the ground. Rubbing my forehead, I groaned. After a while, I finally got to my feet. Leaving my soft blankets behind, I stumbled to the base of the stairs, hanging on to the railing. “Another summer day,” I thought. I tugged on the handle to open the old wooden drawer and grabbed some cereal out of the cupboard. Ripping open the refrigerator, I took out a full unopened carton of milk. My hands fumbled with the lid clumsily, and I gave up, eating the cereal plain. Too lazy to clean my bowls, I sank into the nearby couch and let myself sink into the cushions. I squinted into the bright sunlight on my right and sighed. “Another boring summer day,” I thought.
Grumpy and still tired, I staggered down the stairs, and stared at the wall. I saw one of my childhood drawings of aliens and flying saucers. Smirking, I jeered at my childish drawings.
A sudden light bulb flashed in my head, lighting up the room. Leaping to my feet, I abandoned sleepyness, and slammed boredom into a closet. Paper and books flew, accompanied by abandoned action figures. Finally, deep in the void of the past, I reached for the old rusted metal box, cool to the touch, and freezing to my eyes. I carefully lopped off the lid to reveal markers of green, blue and red; pencils of yellow, orange, and purple, and pastels of pink, turquoise, and indigo.
In the evening, I sat back and admired my work. Monsters, animals and robots now roamed the wall. Then I thought, “Maybe summer isn’t that bad after all.”
Red stung my eyes as the sun shone in my eyes. “Go away,” I mumbled. Turning over, I suddenly felt no support under me as I toppled down onto the ground. Rubbing my forehead, I groaned. After a while, I finally got to my feet. Leaving my soft blankets behind, I stumbled to the base of the stairs, hanging on to the railing. “Another summer day,” I thought. I tugged on the handle to open the old wooden drawer and grabbed some cereal out of the cupboard. Ripping open the refrigerator, I took out a full unopened carton of milk. My hands fumbled with the lid clumsily, and I gave up, eating the cereal plain. Too lazy to clean my bowls, I sank into the nearby couch and let myself sink into the cushions. I squinted into the bright sunlight on my right and sighed. “Another boring summer day,” I thought.
Grumpy and still tired, I staggered down the stairs, and stared at the wall. I saw one of my childhood drawings of aliens and flying saucers. Smirking, I jeered at my childish drawings.
A sudden light bulb flashed in my head, lighting up the room. Leaping to my feet, I abandoned sleepyness, and slammed boredom into a closet. Paper and books flew, accompanied by abandoned action figures. Finally, deep in the void of the past, I reached for the old rusted metal box, cool to the touch, and freezing to my eyes. I carefully lopped off the lid to reveal markers of green, blue and red; pencils of yellow, orange, and purple, and pastels of pink, turquoise, and indigo.
In the evening, I sat back and admired my work. Monsters, animals and robots now roamed the wall. Then I thought, “Maybe summer isn’t that bad after all.”
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
The Ghost
By Colin Martin
I was always told to never go up into the attic by my dad and my mom. A couple of years ago they would have told me that there was a big scary ghost it the attic and then yelled, “boo” and I would run and hide in my room. But the next day as if I hadn’t learned my lesson I would go back and ask to go up in the attic and they’d say the ghost story and scare me to my room.
Now I am 13 and I don’t believe the ghost story anymore so I go ask my parents to let me in the attic, but this time they say something different. They tell me a story that at the beginning of the story I thought it was lame but as the story continued I became tuned into it.” When we first bought this house,” started my dad “it was on Halloween and had to buy it because it was on sale. So we bought it and walked in and looked around. The walls were bare and there was no furniture and the upstairs was no different. We walked up the stairs and we saw the attic hatch on the roof of the hallway and we opened it. I climbed up the stairs and there was a ghost right there in front of me, I yelled and climbed down the stairs and never went back.”
“Want to see if its still there,” I asked
“Sure,” he said.
We walked over there and I saw the attic hatch I gulped and looked back. My dad gestured to open the hatch and I did. I poked my head up and there was the ghost,” BOO!” my dad yelled. I ran away and never went into the attic again
I was always told to never go up into the attic by my dad and my mom. A couple of years ago they would have told me that there was a big scary ghost it the attic and then yelled, “boo” and I would run and hide in my room. But the next day as if I hadn’t learned my lesson I would go back and ask to go up in the attic and they’d say the ghost story and scare me to my room.
Now I am 13 and I don’t believe the ghost story anymore so I go ask my parents to let me in the attic, but this time they say something different. They tell me a story that at the beginning of the story I thought it was lame but as the story continued I became tuned into it.” When we first bought this house,” started my dad “it was on Halloween and had to buy it because it was on sale. So we bought it and walked in and looked around. The walls were bare and there was no furniture and the upstairs was no different. We walked up the stairs and we saw the attic hatch on the roof of the hallway and we opened it. I climbed up the stairs and there was a ghost right there in front of me, I yelled and climbed down the stairs and never went back.”
“Want to see if its still there,” I asked
“Sure,” he said.
We walked over there and I saw the attic hatch I gulped and looked back. My dad gestured to open the hatch and I did. I poked my head up and there was the ghost,” BOO!” my dad yelled. I ran away and never went into the attic again
Jungle Fever!
By Darren Mei
“Look what I caught!” Cameron showed the fish to his friend Ron.
“Nice, let’s go put it in some water and take it back to your apartment,” replied Ron, who had caught weird-shaped blue fish,” I think I’ll name my fish Freddie.”
“I don’t think I will name my fish. Better that way if he dies,” replied Cameron offhandedly.
As Cameron and Ron got back from the dock and jumped into Ron’s little tuk-tuk, they made their way back to their little town in Peru. As they turned and rocked through the bumpy, unpaved road they heard the sounds of native animals. Suddenly there was a fallen tree in the distance. The tuk-tuk’s brakes were worn down and Ron, who was driving, flung the steering wheel to the side and the car skimmed the side of a tree trunk. Branches whipped past Cameron’s head and painted a red line across his forehead. All of a sudden the vehicle hit another tree and Cameron flew out of the tuk-tuk. Ron, whipped forward, and was knocked unconscious. Cameron, on the other hand, had almost broken his neck in the fall. He thought he saw some type of fish in his hand, but he forgot everything. “Hey look, its night now…” he thought to himself as blackness clouded his vision.
Three days later, Ron was in the ranger station questioning the ranger for Cameron.
“I’m sorry, but he isn’t anywhere!” the ranger replied, irritated.
“Fine, just tell me if you have any major leads,” reminded Ron, distraught.
Ron was walking out he suddenly saw a person walking out of the jungle. It was Cameron!
“How did you survive without any food?” asked Ron, amazed,” Hey, where is your fish?”
Cameron smiled grimly and replied,” Guess what I ate in the jungle Ron…”
“Look what I caught!” Cameron showed the fish to his friend Ron.
“Nice, let’s go put it in some water and take it back to your apartment,” replied Ron, who had caught weird-shaped blue fish,” I think I’ll name my fish Freddie.”
“I don’t think I will name my fish. Better that way if he dies,” replied Cameron offhandedly.
As Cameron and Ron got back from the dock and jumped into Ron’s little tuk-tuk, they made their way back to their little town in Peru. As they turned and rocked through the bumpy, unpaved road they heard the sounds of native animals. Suddenly there was a fallen tree in the distance. The tuk-tuk’s brakes were worn down and Ron, who was driving, flung the steering wheel to the side and the car skimmed the side of a tree trunk. Branches whipped past Cameron’s head and painted a red line across his forehead. All of a sudden the vehicle hit another tree and Cameron flew out of the tuk-tuk. Ron, whipped forward, and was knocked unconscious. Cameron, on the other hand, had almost broken his neck in the fall. He thought he saw some type of fish in his hand, but he forgot everything. “Hey look, its night now…” he thought to himself as blackness clouded his vision.
Three days later, Ron was in the ranger station questioning the ranger for Cameron.
“I’m sorry, but he isn’t anywhere!” the ranger replied, irritated.
“Fine, just tell me if you have any major leads,” reminded Ron, distraught.
Ron was walking out he suddenly saw a person walking out of the jungle. It was Cameron!
“How did you survive without any food?” asked Ron, amazed,” Hey, where is your fish?”
Cameron smiled grimly and replied,” Guess what I ate in the jungle Ron…”
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Expect the Unexpected
By Meera Kumar
October 3rd 2079…
As I skipped down the streets, the quiet whispers of people from their houses reminded me of the crickets at night. The townspeople were inside watching the football game: Cirkland versus our rivals, Dallfew. I sat down beside my family and began watching the game.
Suddenly the ground started shaking, but there were no earthquakes in Cirkland. It stopped. Kaboom! Everyone rushed outside to see all the commotion. All I could see was a broken telephone pole, but all I smelled was smoke.
The smell grew stronger and stronger. I thought it might have been mama’s food burning so I ran inside and grabbed the fire extinguisher. Mama wasn’t cooking any food but the smell still grew stronger. I had to go and write this craziness in my diary. I walked to my room snatched my diary and then scurried outside,
Dear Diary,
Today is October 3rd 2079. Today is the big game between Cirkland and Dallfew but that is nothing compared to all the craziness here in Cirkland. A few minutes ago the ground shook and a telephone pole fell. Now all I can smell is smoke or fire and ash. I can’t put my nose on it.
At that moment I looked up and saw what I never thought I would see in my life. “ Volcano,” shouted a little boy, “ It’s erupting.” Everyone looked up, screamed, and ran away like mad cows.
I will continue writing this as I run. A few minutes ago the townspeople and I just discovered an active volcano. It erupted and now everyone is running like crazy. I can’t run as fast without writing so I am signing off before…
The next day… not a single soul is alive. This was known as the Cirkland Volcano of 2079.
October 3rd 2079…
As I skipped down the streets, the quiet whispers of people from their houses reminded me of the crickets at night. The townspeople were inside watching the football game: Cirkland versus our rivals, Dallfew. I sat down beside my family and began watching the game.
Suddenly the ground started shaking, but there were no earthquakes in Cirkland. It stopped. Kaboom! Everyone rushed outside to see all the commotion. All I could see was a broken telephone pole, but all I smelled was smoke.
The smell grew stronger and stronger. I thought it might have been mama’s food burning so I ran inside and grabbed the fire extinguisher. Mama wasn’t cooking any food but the smell still grew stronger. I had to go and write this craziness in my diary. I walked to my room snatched my diary and then scurried outside,
Dear Diary,
Today is October 3rd 2079. Today is the big game between Cirkland and Dallfew but that is nothing compared to all the craziness here in Cirkland. A few minutes ago the ground shook and a telephone pole fell. Now all I can smell is smoke or fire and ash. I can’t put my nose on it.
At that moment I looked up and saw what I never thought I would see in my life. “ Volcano,” shouted a little boy, “ It’s erupting.” Everyone looked up, screamed, and ran away like mad cows.
I will continue writing this as I run. A few minutes ago the townspeople and I just discovered an active volcano. It erupted and now everyone is running like crazy. I can’t run as fast without writing so I am signing off before…
The next day… not a single soul is alive. This was known as the Cirkland Volcano of 2079.
The Man
By Riley Burgess
“Pit, pat, pit, pat, pit, pat.” The black soles of the man’s green and yellow vans smacked down with a hard slapping noise. The man was big and muscular, his waxed muscles almost bulging through his black t-shirt. He t-shirt read, “FLAP” in big white letters across the front, and it was tight, bulging his muscles even more. His long brown hair bounced from left to right as he walked. The man started walking faster. He turned his head to the left and then to the right like he was searching for something. He looked at street sign that read in musty faded letters “Oak Street”. When he recognized the old letters he sped up his pace yet again and looked around once more. It was twelve o’clock and the streets were only light by a small glint of moonlight. Suddenly the man turned into the street and broke out to a sprint after noticing the car behind him. The black Honda sailed towards him, and through the darkly tinted windows the man could see his foe. The man reached down, taking off his vans. With one efficient motion he turned around and hurled his shoe, making his target the Honda’s windshield. Bull’s eye, the windshield cracked sending shards of glass everywhere, like a bomb was exploding. The car slammed on its brakes creating a loud screech, and then the car spun out of control, tumbling off the road and into a creek. Seconds later the sky was filled with springs and piles of metal as the brand-new car exploded. The man slowed his pace and casually walked down the devious path to the house. His feet pounded down on the pavement, “ pit, pat, pit, pat, pit, pat.”
“Pit, pat, pit, pat, pit, pat.” The black soles of the man’s green and yellow vans smacked down with a hard slapping noise. The man was big and muscular, his waxed muscles almost bulging through his black t-shirt. He t-shirt read, “FLAP” in big white letters across the front, and it was tight, bulging his muscles even more. His long brown hair bounced from left to right as he walked. The man started walking faster. He turned his head to the left and then to the right like he was searching for something. He looked at street sign that read in musty faded letters “Oak Street”. When he recognized the old letters he sped up his pace yet again and looked around once more. It was twelve o’clock and the streets were only light by a small glint of moonlight. Suddenly the man turned into the street and broke out to a sprint after noticing the car behind him. The black Honda sailed towards him, and through the darkly tinted windows the man could see his foe. The man reached down, taking off his vans. With one efficient motion he turned around and hurled his shoe, making his target the Honda’s windshield. Bull’s eye, the windshield cracked sending shards of glass everywhere, like a bomb was exploding. The car slammed on its brakes creating a loud screech, and then the car spun out of control, tumbling off the road and into a creek. Seconds later the sky was filled with springs and piles of metal as the brand-new car exploded. The man slowed his pace and casually walked down the devious path to the house. His feet pounded down on the pavement, “ pit, pat, pit, pat, pit, pat.”
Monday, October 6, 2008
Mishap Child
By Janice Garcia
"Beep, beep, beep”, went my watch alarm clock. It had gone off straight in the middle of sewing class. Every girl glanced back at me, boring a hole straight in the side of my head. I started to feel warmth creeping up my cheek, yet I tried to ignore it. I was already in trouble. If the teacher heard it, I would be in trouble again.
She heard it.
"Lettie get over here," Ms. Dolata shouted in that husky annoying voice of hers. I stood up not a bit afraid, though I knew what was coming.
"Lettie, tell me where it came from now, or I'll have to call your Mother," shouted Ms. Dolata as though she was telling the students to look.
Well, I looked up at her, and I thought if I had to end up like her in an plain yellow dress with gray hair in a perfect bun with a straight jaw line, forget it. So I said in my most innocent, high-pitched voice,"I don't know what you are talking about Ms. Dolata."
That did it. She grabbed my hand and marched me straight into the dirty gray corner.
"You stand right here you little rascal, or you'll get it," Ms. Dolata said. She marched back to teaching the class. I stood there, then I sat down. She didn't notice.
A small wind blew throughout the class. I shivered. Then a piece of cloth fell off the window and into my lap. I stared at it. This was my opportunity to roll it into a tiny ball and hit her with my slingshot. Nah, I thought, that was enough for today. I just stuffed it into my pocket for tomorrow and smirked.
"Beep, beep, beep”, went my watch alarm clock. It had gone off straight in the middle of sewing class. Every girl glanced back at me, boring a hole straight in the side of my head. I started to feel warmth creeping up my cheek, yet I tried to ignore it. I was already in trouble. If the teacher heard it, I would be in trouble again.
She heard it.
"Lettie get over here," Ms. Dolata shouted in that husky annoying voice of hers. I stood up not a bit afraid, though I knew what was coming.
"Lettie, tell me where it came from now, or I'll have to call your Mother," shouted Ms. Dolata as though she was telling the students to look.
Well, I looked up at her, and I thought if I had to end up like her in an plain yellow dress with gray hair in a perfect bun with a straight jaw line, forget it. So I said in my most innocent, high-pitched voice,"I don't know what you are talking about Ms. Dolata."
That did it. She grabbed my hand and marched me straight into the dirty gray corner.
"You stand right here you little rascal, or you'll get it," Ms. Dolata said. She marched back to teaching the class. I stood there, then I sat down. She didn't notice.
A small wind blew throughout the class. I shivered. Then a piece of cloth fell off the window and into my lap. I stared at it. This was my opportunity to roll it into a tiny ball and hit her with my slingshot. Nah, I thought, that was enough for today. I just stuffed it into my pocket for tomorrow and smirked.
911
by Katelyn Weingart
Curious by the noise of the television so early in the morning, I pressed my ear against the door. A cool autumn breeze drifted from an open window in the hallway, sending a shiver up my spine. I bit my lip and waited for the wind to stop, tapping my fingers impatiently against my crimson polka-dotted pajama shorts. In an effort to understand the reporter’s muffled words more clearly, I forced my frozen ear closer to the wood of the door. “Attackers… crash plane…” Unable to hear clearly, I nudged the door open and crossed my fingers, hoping that my mom would not notice the time. My mom's pallid face and watery eyes directed mine straight to the television screen.
What I saw made me forget the freezing cold winds and the fact that it was 6:30 am in the morning.
A gray line which I recognized as a plane lunged into a gray building and almost immediately left a hole surrounded by red, orange, and yellow flames. Victims ran for their life past the video cameras, screaming like baby birds being chased by a hawk. People flowed out of the burning building, a stream of color. Dark clouds left the entire city in a shadow as they shrouded the sky. The screen flashed to a reporter, whose face, though covered in makeup, looked almost as pale as my mom’s.
Horrified by the footage, I glimpsed up at the wall, with its smooth, undamaged surface, and wondered if that’s what the building on tv had looked like before the crash. Another shiver shot down my spine, but this time not from the cold. Searching for comfort, I lay down on the bed and rested my head on the soft pillow. As I traced the beige stitching with my hand, I silently prayed, hoping everything would be all right.
Curious by the noise of the television so early in the morning, I pressed my ear against the door. A cool autumn breeze drifted from an open window in the hallway, sending a shiver up my spine. I bit my lip and waited for the wind to stop, tapping my fingers impatiently against my crimson polka-dotted pajama shorts. In an effort to understand the reporter’s muffled words more clearly, I forced my frozen ear closer to the wood of the door. “Attackers… crash plane…” Unable to hear clearly, I nudged the door open and crossed my fingers, hoping that my mom would not notice the time. My mom's pallid face and watery eyes directed mine straight to the television screen.
What I saw made me forget the freezing cold winds and the fact that it was 6:30 am in the morning.
A gray line which I recognized as a plane lunged into a gray building and almost immediately left a hole surrounded by red, orange, and yellow flames. Victims ran for their life past the video cameras, screaming like baby birds being chased by a hawk. People flowed out of the burning building, a stream of color. Dark clouds left the entire city in a shadow as they shrouded the sky. The screen flashed to a reporter, whose face, though covered in makeup, looked almost as pale as my mom’s.
Horrified by the footage, I glimpsed up at the wall, with its smooth, undamaged surface, and wondered if that’s what the building on tv had looked like before the crash. Another shiver shot down my spine, but this time not from the cold. Searching for comfort, I lay down on the bed and rested my head on the soft pillow. As I traced the beige stitching with my hand, I silently prayed, hoping everything would be all right.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Engine Fuel
By Jacob Olian
“Engine fuel, you say, sonny?” asked the store owner at Zakum’s Space Supplies. He was really, really old, with liver spots all over his bald head and pimples on every square inch of his face.
“Umm… Yeah…” I answered, scared of this crazy old man.
“Well it's agonnna be to yur left,” the old man said.
“Okay, uh, thanks,” I replied nervously, and walked in that direction as fast as possible, trying to get away from that weird guy.
“Whew, thank god. There are some weird people in this sector.” I grabbed the first bottle on the shelf and ran out of the store.
As I walked throughout the huge bustling city lit with neon lights and the lights of hover-taxis, I noticed really how different from my own world this sector was. The people were weirder, the atmosphere was more clogged, very much unlike my own sector, Dodilia. I reached the parking garage where I parked my gigaship, The Shadow Raider. I pressed the unlock button on my black car key, and the escalator lowered. I rode it up to the cockpit of the ship, and it promptly closed behind me. I plopped down in the captain’s seat and revved up the twin turbo engine. I pushed forward the accel-lever and the ship swiftly started to move forward. The craft picked up speed and zoomed out the launch door at 1437 mph. “Well, I better put in the new engine fuel,” I remembered, and put the ship on autopilot while taking the bottle out of my bag. I opened the cap and poured it into the fuel hatch. Suddenly, the ship started to tremor vigorously. “Uh, oh,” I muttered under my breath.
Down below, on Sector Imagination X, its inhabitants were given a fireworks show that lasted for days to come.
“Engine fuel, you say, sonny?” asked the store owner at Zakum’s Space Supplies. He was really, really old, with liver spots all over his bald head and pimples on every square inch of his face.
“Umm… Yeah…” I answered, scared of this crazy old man.
“Well it's agonnna be to yur left,” the old man said.
“Okay, uh, thanks,” I replied nervously, and walked in that direction as fast as possible, trying to get away from that weird guy.
“Whew, thank god. There are some weird people in this sector.” I grabbed the first bottle on the shelf and ran out of the store.
As I walked throughout the huge bustling city lit with neon lights and the lights of hover-taxis, I noticed really how different from my own world this sector was. The people were weirder, the atmosphere was more clogged, very much unlike my own sector, Dodilia. I reached the parking garage where I parked my gigaship, The Shadow Raider. I pressed the unlock button on my black car key, and the escalator lowered. I rode it up to the cockpit of the ship, and it promptly closed behind me. I plopped down in the captain’s seat and revved up the twin turbo engine. I pushed forward the accel-lever and the ship swiftly started to move forward. The craft picked up speed and zoomed out the launch door at 1437 mph. “Well, I better put in the new engine fuel,” I remembered, and put the ship on autopilot while taking the bottle out of my bag. I opened the cap and poured it into the fuel hatch. Suddenly, the ship started to tremor vigorously. “Uh, oh,” I muttered under my breath.
Down below, on Sector Imagination X, its inhabitants were given a fireworks show that lasted for days to come.
The Race Against Time
By Alexis Mack
My limbs ached terribly as I urged them on. Faster and faster I sprinted down the beaten down path that led into the large ominous building. Trash lined the streets and I tripped several times over bottles and broken glass. Other impediments of the road were gradually making me more and more furious about the situation, but I merely pushed myself harder.
I suddenly tripped on a large tree’s roots and scraped my knee up as I plummeted to the hard, unforgiving floor. I quickly regained my balance and my ungainly running took course once more. After a while I thought I saw her, a few feet ahead, but the figure vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, just like a shadow in the moonlight.
This motivated me to push on. I could not afford to lose this opportunity. The punishments would be much too severe. I gulped thinking of all the misery I would go through if I didn’t get to my destination.
The welcoming park bench sat clearly in the distance. The warm sweat was trickling down my face and into my eyes. I rubbed them furiously, but when I looked up the park bench wasn’t empty.
Rebecca had deposited herself on the sun-baked bench, only to leap off of it with the surprise of its heat. That was when I realized that innocent scene of a small girl in a ruffled little skirt and blouse had sealed my fate.
I suddenly realized I had been deceived and lost the bet. I could kiss my weekend goodbye because I was doing my sisters chores all weekend. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of my two-day sentence. My dessert and fun going to her was also a part of the bargain. This was going to be a terribly long weekend.
My limbs ached terribly as I urged them on. Faster and faster I sprinted down the beaten down path that led into the large ominous building. Trash lined the streets and I tripped several times over bottles and broken glass. Other impediments of the road were gradually making me more and more furious about the situation, but I merely pushed myself harder.
I suddenly tripped on a large tree’s roots and scraped my knee up as I plummeted to the hard, unforgiving floor. I quickly regained my balance and my ungainly running took course once more. After a while I thought I saw her, a few feet ahead, but the figure vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, just like a shadow in the moonlight.
This motivated me to push on. I could not afford to lose this opportunity. The punishments would be much too severe. I gulped thinking of all the misery I would go through if I didn’t get to my destination.
The welcoming park bench sat clearly in the distance. The warm sweat was trickling down my face and into my eyes. I rubbed them furiously, but when I looked up the park bench wasn’t empty.
Rebecca had deposited herself on the sun-baked bench, only to leap off of it with the surprise of its heat. That was when I realized that innocent scene of a small girl in a ruffled little skirt and blouse had sealed my fate.
I suddenly realized I had been deceived and lost the bet. I could kiss my weekend goodbye because I was doing my sisters chores all weekend. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of my two-day sentence. My dessert and fun going to her was also a part of the bargain. This was going to be a terribly long weekend.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Amnesia
By Niles Christensen
I remember that fateful day. I had climbed into my family’s brand new, silver Mercedes. Things had been going so well. My mom and my dad had decided to take my sister and I to San Francisco to see a Giants game. My dad was driving, my mom was sleeping, my baby sister, Rose, was happily gurgling, and I was absentmindedly admiring a brick wall covered with a blanket of vines that ran alongside us. Then it happened. A chorus of horns announced that an insane driver in an old, beaten up Volkswagen had decided to drive in the oncoming lane. Things then seemed to go in slow motion. My dad was terrified, my mom, suddenly awake, was screaming, Rose simply seemed curious, and I sat up straight, petrified. The driver was going to cause a head-on collision! I saw the Volkswagen hit the hood of our car, looking to be going very slowly, causing the front of both of our cars to crumple. There was a cacophony of screams, flying sparks, a vivid splash of red, and then, darkness.
When I woke up, I was in a scratchy bed, with dirty pieces of straw sticking out at misshapen angles. I was in a wooden house that smelled like a barn, surrounded by odd-looking people, wearing dirty clothing, made of cloth. They were all looking at me excitedly, whispering to each other “He’s waking up!” My leg felt like the bone had shattered, I was covered in scrapes and bruises, and I had a migraine beyond compare. I groggily inquired,” Where am I?”
In a joking tone, someone replied, “Where do you think? You’re in London, year 1625. You were in a carriage accident.” Upon hearing this, I promptly fainted
I remember that fateful day. I had climbed into my family’s brand new, silver Mercedes. Things had been going so well. My mom and my dad had decided to take my sister and I to San Francisco to see a Giants game. My dad was driving, my mom was sleeping, my baby sister, Rose, was happily gurgling, and I was absentmindedly admiring a brick wall covered with a blanket of vines that ran alongside us. Then it happened. A chorus of horns announced that an insane driver in an old, beaten up Volkswagen had decided to drive in the oncoming lane. Things then seemed to go in slow motion. My dad was terrified, my mom, suddenly awake, was screaming, Rose simply seemed curious, and I sat up straight, petrified. The driver was going to cause a head-on collision! I saw the Volkswagen hit the hood of our car, looking to be going very slowly, causing the front of both of our cars to crumple. There was a cacophony of screams, flying sparks, a vivid splash of red, and then, darkness.
When I woke up, I was in a scratchy bed, with dirty pieces of straw sticking out at misshapen angles. I was in a wooden house that smelled like a barn, surrounded by odd-looking people, wearing dirty clothing, made of cloth. They were all looking at me excitedly, whispering to each other “He’s waking up!” My leg felt like the bone had shattered, I was covered in scrapes and bruises, and I had a migraine beyond compare. I groggily inquired,” Where am I?”
In a joking tone, someone replied, “Where do you think? You’re in London, year 1625. You were in a carriage accident.” Upon hearing this, I promptly fainted
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