Week 14: This Week’s Winning Stories
A Dora Nightmare
As I approach the living room, the first thing I hear is, “Hey, it’s me, Dora.” My little sister, April, stares at the glowing screen. I groan because out of all the shows that my sister watches, this is by far the worst. Who would ever want to watch a little girl that has a talking monkey friend? And all they do is go on adventures with struggles on the way. But the thing is, Dora is only like seven years old yet she goes on more adventures than I do. My mom would never let me go to the shoe factory, over the troll bridge, and to a random fairy tale Dora land with a monkey. And what happened to the girl’s homework? How are adults going to know that it will agitate the kids? But the thing I hate most about the show is that April adores it! I have to listen to it every day when I do my homework!
So today I go to the computer to finish up my homework. I glance at the television and see Boots appear on the screen that’s slowly burning April’s eyes. Then I quickly glance back so no one catches me looking at the show. I remind myself I have a dentist appointment so I have to finish my work fast as I can. I forgot to mention it is harshly stormy, and there are yellow streaks of lightning in the sky. Whenever April hears one strike, she screams in her ear-piercing shriek.
Lighting strikes, my sister screams, and the TV shuts off. April freaks out and immediately tries to turn it back on. It doesn’t turn on. Of course, she says, in her adorable and annoying lisp, “It was Madison! She always talks about how she hates Dora. I bet it was one of her pranks.”
“I’m all the way across the room! You can’t always accuse me of doing something,” I cry, outraged.
“Madison, if you did something to make the TV turn off, admit it now,” my mom says with a calm tone so she doesn’t stress April out even more. All of a sudden, I am so tired that I just fall asleep. I think it may have been from that medicine that I had to take for my cold. I take a deep yawn and fall asleep right on the chair.
I wake up in a bed. Not mine, an unfamiliar bed. My mood has changed from tired to straight up adventurous. I take a moment for my eyes to adjust. The room I wake up in is not familiar either. Everything looks like I am in a cartoon as well. I look down to see if my body looks cartoony, too. I not only look like I came out of a cartoon, but I am wearing a pink shirt that barely covers my belly and dark blue shorts, the same exact outfit Dora wears! I panic. I walk out the door a try to find a bathroom or a mirror. I finally find one down the hall, to the left. My face, it’s horrible, disgusting, obnoxious, the worst out of the worst: it’s Dora’s face! “AHHHHHHH!” I am so panicked and scared. The only thing I can do is scream.
I try to calm myself by going to the kitchen and eating breakfast. I find the kitchen, where there is no parent or guardian cooking or making breakfast so I look in the cupboard. Nothing. I look in the other one; nothing, I check all the cabinets and nothing. The fridge; nothing! I’m not in a hungry mood anyway so I go outside. I take a step onto the porch and the Dora Explorer’s theme music comes on. There are rainbows and monkeys and different animals everywhere singing. My body moves without command as if someone is moving me. I try to stop, but I can’t. My lips start singing, “I’m Dora the explorer.” Again, I can’t stop myself.
The song finally ends, and Boots and some squirrels start talking to me. I am so confused, but my mouth just starts talking. My body starts moving toward a tree, and after that the whole thing is a blur. I just see blurs that looks like a castles and hear talking. But when I hear the song about the accomplishment I start feeling drowsy again.
I wake up in the chair. I am in in front of my homework, and my mom is on the phone. It seems like the television is working and my sister is watching Dora. I wonder if that’s how it’s like to be Dora–just lost and confused and very blind.
I approach the plate;
I accept the challenge.
An accurate swing will accomplish admiration
The seams appear.
I admit my fault;
I advance in the box.
I apply adequate contact.
The ball sails.
It is not an accident
That it flew over the fence.
“Arrow, I know you heard me now,” Echoblew tried to contain her anger. “Get over here!”
Arrow froze, not knowing what to do; he glanced at his friends, who were puzzled but also urging him to go with Echoblew. With his tail between his legs, Arrow submitted to Echoblew and approached her.
“What?” Arrow practically growled and his friends glared at him.
Echoblew whipped her long tail around her body and walked into another room. Arrow followed with annoyance.
After the lion and the dog reached the hallways, the lion spoke.
“You are here because you have the blood of a champion; you are capable of so much,” Echoblew addressed him with evident pride. “You are not here to pull off dumb pranks and play silly games. Accept that you’re an adult and act like one.”
Arrow stared at the ill looking messenger pigeon on Echoblew’s shoulder. He knew he should be feeling guilt for his prank, but he didn’t feel guilt. He just wanted to see Moon and the rest of his family again. He wondered what had happened to them once Echoblew laid her paws on his and they disappeared into this complicated world having the role of a champion.
I don’t feel like a champion, I don’t even know what we’re trying to accomplish here, Arrow thought.
“You have better use of your controlling powers,” Echoblew shot Arrow an accusing look. “I guess this is a warning. You’re lucky I didn’t go all hardcore mad at you; also, don’t tell anyone that I didn’t go hardcore mad at you like I do to most everyone when they play pranks.”
“Thank you. So you forgive me?” Arrow couldn’t help but smile a little bit.
“Yes, I forgive you,” and Echoblew smiled back at him.
Arrow suddenly thought of a question he’d been meaning to ask her. “Hey, I’ve actually been wondering about your name,” Arrow admitted. “Is the blew in your name like ‘she blew up’ or ‘blue like the color’?”
“Blew up,” she answered.
“Well, I better get back to writing the note for the seventh time,” Echoblew sighed. “And don’t ever make my messenger pigeon eat all those messages again; some of those were extremely important.”
“It was an accident,” Arrow obviously lied.
Echoblew wandered to her room in the giant metal and silver base, and as Arrow strode back to where he left his eager friends, he noticed the careful lining in the walls and the sweet smell of meat from the eating place just a few halls away. He noticed the eerie silence that surrounded him as he walked. He also noticed the way his necklace swayed back and forth quickly or slowly depending on his pace. He felt right at home, and for what seemed like the first time in a long time, he felt completely peaceful.
“Arrow! Tell me all about how you got beaten half to death by Echoblew!” Velvet appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.
“Oh, uh,” Arrow’s eyes darted around, and he remembered what Echoblew had said.
“Can I just tell you later?” Arrow halfheartedly smiled.
“Why can’t you tell me now?” Velvet sounded whiny, and it greatly annoyed Arrow.
“Because,” Arrow said.
“Because?” Velvet advanced on him.
“Because I will tell you later,” Arrow slipped away before his irritated friend could respond. He ran to the entrance, or in his case, exit, of the building.
The doors opened automatically at his presence and he trotted into the sun. It felt good to have the sun beaming down on him once again, and he remembered playing with Moon and his other siblings under the watchful eye of Dawn. He missed his mother and his father and longed for them to just show up and embrace him with the sound of their comforting whimpers of glee and their kind loving nuzzles.
Arrow looked up at the cloudless sky. He moved his head back down and felt his necklace slide off his neck. He let out a small gasp as the necklace hit the ground. He’d seen Moon’s necklace come off and her pelt change back to its normal pattern so he glanced at his pelt. It was the same arrow pattern that the necklace had bestowed him with.
Arrow thought of something: Can I use my controlling power even though I don’t have my necklace on?
Arrow selected a bug that was crawling around in the grass and called up the power to control it with. In his head, he imagined the bug to crawl on a nearby rock, and it did. He glanced at his necklace, which was lying on the grass. Its color was dull, and a spark of small light erupted from it and then stopped. The necklace had powered off.
Past Years’ Winning Stories
The Time Traveling Make-up
Derwthakson Manor, Present Day
“Helloooo?” I hear a muffled voice say from outside the cupboard in which I am hiding. I pull my knees tighter against my chest, heart pounding. I hear footsteps get closer and closer. This cupboard smells of putrid odors and feet. Oh, why did I hide here?”
“I found you…” I hear a sinister voice say from the outside. Oh, no!
“Gotcha!” I topple out of the cupboard as the old wood door is flung open.
“Ahhh!” I scream. I hit the stone floor, hard. I see Tommy’s freckled face inches above mine, and I stare him in the eyes.
“Good hiding spot,” he says, pulling one of my long brown braids, “but not good enough because I FOUND YOU!” he jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. “Now I am going to find the others!” With that, he runs off down the hall and out of sight. I lie on my back, looking up at the boring, stone ceiling. I try to imagine that I am still in my old house in London, lying on our dark brown hardwood floor that would always spring a little when you jumped. It is impossible. A couple weeks ago, my parents had the awful idea to move to the country. They bought a giant, ancient stone mansion in the country, and I hate it. My room is too big, it is too drafty, and there are so many places to get lost. I hate this place.
Derwthakson Manor, 1902
“49, 50, 51…” Despite how slowly Quentin is counting, he is still very close to sixty, and I still have no place to hide. I admit it, I put off finding a hiding place till the last minute, but I need to find somewhere quickly.
“57, 58, 59…” Oh, no. I look to my right and see a polished wooden cupboard and, without thinking, I launch myself inside.
“60!” Phew, I made it. I hear someone knocking on the cupboard, and I slightly open the door. Outside, I see my little sister, Charlotte, whom I adore. She is truly adorable. Sometimes I envy her when the adults give her all the attention, but not much. I try to be the best older sister that I can be.
“Help!” she whispers. I open the door wider and hoist her up into the hiding spot. She is incredibly short, even for six, but is quite heavy. I close the door, and we sit tightly, alone in the dark.
Derwthakson Manor, Present Day
“Ronald, I do not accept this behavior! It is not acceptable whatsoever!” I hear my mum’s voice echo down the hall. I stand up and follow the sound. I see my thirteen-year-old brother, Ron, standing next to a pile of broken glass on the ground, and Mum is standing across from him.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident-” Ron sputters. Of course, Ron broke something; he is very clumsy. I start to approach them and back Ron up, but that would just get me into trouble. I walk away, feeling unnecessary, when I notice something on the floor. It is an old-fashioned make-up kit! I pick it up and apply some blush to my face. I am instantly dizzy, and I fall upon the ground with a splat. The last thing I hear is Ron’s heavy British accent saying, “Amanda? Amanda are you okay? Amanda!”
Derwthakson Manor, 1906
I walk down the hall and scream. I see a brown-haired girl lying on the ground. She wears a pink shirt and–Oh, my!–pants. She starts to wake up, mumbling odd things.
“But, Mum, I have a doctor’s appointment!” She opens her eyes, sees me, and screams. I start to scream, too, and now we are both screaming. I adjust my glasses. Maybe this is a trick of my imagination?
I look up at the girl dressed in weird old-fashioned garments. I am so confused!
“Wait,” she begins to say, “You put on my time travel make-up!”
“What?” I question.
“I invented make-up that time travels you!” she says. This girl is crazy.
“What year is it then?” I ask her.
“1906,” she answers back, like it is no big deal. 1906? Oh. No.
Hello, my name is Jeffrey, and I am an a adorable bunny! But on the inside I am a evil one. Here is the most evil thing I have ever done….. I once bit my owner’s hair. I even made her say, “Silly bunny!” After that, she picked me up and started to pet me. I have to admit that I am the baddest bunny around. Here is another bad thing I did: When my owner gave me a carrot to eat, she told me to eat only half of it and to save the rest for a snack later. Instead I gobbled up the whole carrot! Later on, I wished I had only eaten half because I was starving.
I hate how they adore me! I want to be called Dr.Jeffrey because that sounds like an evil name. What I want to do is escape this madness. I need to get out of the house and become a free rabbit. I need to become the king of the rabbits. But if I leave, how am I going to get carrots? Which is better carrots or….. being the king of the rabbits? Uhhh, I think I’ll stick to the carrots for now.
My next plan is to break something and then accuse my owner of doing it! She is going to have to accept the punishment. I bet when my plan is accomplished, my owner is going to get in so much trouble. After that, I’m going to escape while my second owner is dealing with my first owner. I think I am going to break the mirror by the door in my owner’s room.
What kind of witchcraft is this!?! My powerful feet aren’t breaking it! What is this, advanced mirror technology? I guess my plan wasn’t so accurate. I will just have to accept that I have failed. Wait, what is my owner doing? AHHH, SHE IS PICKING ME UP!
“Come with me Jeff! I just got you a gift!” I wonder what it is. She is approaching the door. Wait, now she is taking me outside! She just got me a gate so I could stay outside and play. Right now, I think I’m fine not being the king of the rabbits.
Only an Accident
I wake up in a heap when I hear yelling from my littlest child, Mary, so I advance down the stairs to the kitchen to investigate.
“What is it, Mary?” I ask as soon as I see her.
“It bwoke,” she says as I look down at the shattered china that my wife adores, clearly broken by accident.
I can only imagine what caused this, I think, looking at the half empty cereal bowl in Mary’s hands. Okay, I think, we had better go to the store and purchase the exact same bowl, clean up this mess, and put the new china back in the cupboard–and all before two o’clock when Carol gets home.
Mary and I head to the store, but as we approach the china shop, I look at the sign on the door that states this:
Closed all this week except Monday.
Don’t forget about the big chine set giveaway!
It’s a $500 value.
Just apply here on this piece of paper
and you will be entered into the drawing.
So, I guess that is good news and bad news, I think as I fill out the form, hoping the instructions on the paper are accurate.
Next, I have to drive Mary to her doctor’s appointment to approve some of her immunization papers because little Mary accused one of her classmates of littering at school, and the child bit poor Mary. I have to admit, this child has been through a lot.
In the nicest voice I can manage, I say, “Mary, we need to go.” We need to search for the china someplace else.
We enter a Plates and More shop, and in the midst of looking around, I hear Mary shriek, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” I look to find her and see a bowl in her hands that is identical to the china dish she broke this morning.
“Yes!” I awkwardly shout in the Plates and More shop. “Thank you so much, Sweetie,” I say in a relieved tone, and then I look at my adorable little girl and say, “Let’s get home before mom sees!”
As I approach the pitcher’s mound, I feel every eye glued to me. Let me admit, this is the first game of my professional career in the MLB. My first pitch nearly hits the batter. The umpire announces, “Ball one!’’
My second pitch is perfect, no spin, picture perfect, and ready to be adored in the MLB hall of fame. The umpire shouts, “Strike! The count’s one and one!’’ The third pitch has too much spin and nails the batter.
As I walk to home plate in sorrow, I say, “Sorry. Just an accident.’’
The batter replies, “No problem, but can you pay for the doctor’s appointment?’’ I look down at his wrist, and I see his pure white bone. Then his adrenaline wears off, and he howls, “Oww!’’
After the next long, eight innings, I advance to the dugout to find a furious coach. His face is almost purple like a big, juicy prune. My coach says, “That was unacceptable.” Why, next thing you know, he has passed out from anger.
As I think of a new strategy for an accurate pitch, I am startled by a flash of lightning and the roaring sound of thunder. I turn around to see the janitor trying to get me out by the quick flash of the lights and my coach’s familiar, roaring voice. I look up to my coach’s popping veins in his temple when he yells, “Why did you go apologize?’’
I reply, “It’s just the right thing to do.”
My coach then shouts, “You need to become more accustomed to having a mean, unsportsman-like attitude!”
Then I gather my stuff and leave.
Don’t let someone force you to adjust your manners and kindness.
Then I gather my stuff and leave.
“Larry! That is not acceptable! Why did you break your mom’s special vase?! We all adored it.”
“Sorry, Dad. I-It was an accident!” Larry stammered.
“When your mom gets home, admit that you did this, and I want you to have more mature, advanced actions. I’m sorry, Larry, but if you keep acting like this, I will have to set an appointment for you with a psychiatrist.”
DING went the door.
“Mom’s home, Larry,” Dad called.
Mom was saying with wonder, “Hey, guys, where are you?”
Larry walked out with pieces of the broken vase. Mom’s face turned white.
“Oh, my gosh, Larry! Did you do this?”
“Hey, Larry?” Dad whispered. “Admitting this might be hard. Look at your mom’s eyes.”
“WOW! I didn’t know eyes could get that red.”
“Larry do you know old that was?” Mom exclaimed with a calm approach, trying not to show her anger.
“I’m very sorry, Mom, and where did you get that weird British accent?” Larry said.
“I get an accent when I’m angry! Spill the beans, son.”
“Okay. So I was throwing a little ball off the wall. I hit a corner on the coffee table. Don’t judge me, you guys. I know I’m not an accurate thrower! So the ball ricocheted off the edge of the coffee table, and the ball went rolling into the hallway and into your room. And what’s right outside your room? The vase. So I chased it down. I was running down the hallway, and I took a sharp right into your room. I was wearing socks, so I slipped and my foot caught the table leg. The table wobbled, and the vase shook, and then fell.”
“Does that explanation apply, Mr. Dad?” Mom questioned.
“I myself approve, Ms. Mom.”
I Have to Admit, I Don’t Like It
“Don’t accuse me for sayin’ this, but
I gotta think the inventor of
this disgraceful subject
created it on accident.”
~ Author unknown
Some days I approach
it like it is easy,
other days frustrating.
I don’t ever adore it
or approve of it.
I apply all the numbers
correctly, but it seems to
never work correctly
or be accurate.
I always have to
advance my skills
by explaining my reasoning.
I don’t think it is
acceptable to do things
like this in school
or in general.
So in the end, I am
filled up with anger and
I have to admit
I don’t like
I knew I would have to adjust to having a new animal in the house, especially my new puppy, Jasper, but I don’t think I took into account everything that came with this adorable puppy. First of all, the puppy is going to have an accident. By accident, I mean going potty in the house, tearing apart things he shouldn’t, and BITING everyone!
One of the first things I did to prevent accidents was to accompany Jasper to puppy school. What I wanted to accomplish there was to learn accurate training methods and apply them when I’m home with Jasper. It was very apparent to me that the trainer was accustomed to crazy puppy behavior.
I’ve learned with adequate and early training that I can teach Jasper acceptable behavior. It’s not so hard living with a puppy …… now!
Terminate the War
I look into the night sky. The stars are twinkling, and I see ships flying across the sky. I know the silence will stop; we are in the middle of a war. Every day, we are bombed by the American soldiers. We are the rebellion, but don’t think of us as a wimpy army; we have jets and missiles and all kinds of weapons, thanks to a mission we had a year ago when we stole from the military. We started the war for freedom, but now it’s gotten out of hand. Every day, good honest men and women die for our cause. Years ago, my best friend died for our cause. However, everything is about to change. I adjust the knob to an accurate setting. It is done. Tomorrow I will travel through time.
I have finished my time machine, and I will go back in time to stop the war. My mission is to assassinate the leader of the American army, the one that started this stupid war. I will kill him before he starts the war. This would be one of my hardest missions yet because the leader is my father.
I step into the machine accompanied by my brother, John, to help me in the mission. My sniper rifle is hulked over my shoulder. I press a bunch of buttons, and there is a huge white flash that is almost blinding. I throw my hands over my eyes and hunch over. I grip my gun, and my eyes go black. My knees buckle under my weight, and I collapse.
My body is sprawled across the floor, my arm over my brother’s back. I blink quickly and then sit up. I smack my mouth together and then wake up John. The machine is very accurate because we are exactly where I had set the machine to go. I open the door and step out. The cool autumn air is chilly, and I slip my hood over my head. I put my sunglasses on and look around. We are in an alley. My mind flashes back. I remember running around by my house, in an alley, this alley. I remember that my dog used to run around here. I remember one day when I was running with my dog. He saw a cat and then ran away. I never saw him again. As I recall these memories, I see a big, white, fluffy dog running around and then following him is me. I slide behind a dumpster. The air is putrid, but it is unacceptable to be seen by my younger self. He is walking toward me. I have to think fast. I pull my gun and point it behind my younger self. I pull the trigger quickly; my younger self turns and darts in the other direction. I stand and walk in the direction of my house.
There are security guards guarding my house. John and I go to two separate sides and take out the guards at the same time. We walk into the house after I jimmy the lock. I fly up the stairs and around the balcony, and then I see him. I get into position and put my sniper rifle scope to my eye. I start to apply pressure to the trigger, and then a hand grasps my shoulder. My body tenses, and I turn around.
“You’re under arrest,” the hard voice says.
I sit in the small, dim cell. I hear steps draw nearer, and then, in comes a man. I am camouflaged by the blackness. I reach out and grab the man by his sleeve. I pull back and his head hits the cell wall like a rock. I take his keys and open the door now, heading to assassinate my father. I advance through the building, trying to find my dad. I see my dog that I still adore. He is so adorable. I see my father, and I approach him. I pull out my gun and aim it at his head. I squeeze the trigger and then run, bolting for the time machine. I run inside, switch it on, and flash through time.
I arrive back to the future and am in my lab. The world is beautiful—no alarms, no explosions, just silence. With mixed emotions, I begin work finishing my next experiment.
A glimmer of admiration shone in his eyes as he watched his father hop the fence. Pepe’s tail swept the ground behind him as he prepared to pounce, just as his father had just done. His paw reached the edge, but slipped and Pepe fell like when he tried many times before. Pepe looked up in awe as his father’s shadow nodded in approval and bounded away. Pepe could now only see a flash of gray as his father turned a corner, down an alley. Pepe’s mother licked him between the ears as they walked home together, rain starting to pour. He never knew this was the last night he would see his father.
Pepe stretched as his eyes adjusted. He had applied for a job, and his interview was today. He needed to get his life in order. Pepe could feel his mom flattening his fur. She was always meticulous about those kinds of things, but she seemed like she was taking forever.
Pepe turned to look at his mom; apparently,they had the same green eyes, but he had his father’s dark gray fur. Pepe flicked his tail to signal goodbye to his mother as he hopped over the fence and down the dark alley his father before him had gone.
Pepe twirled his whiskers nervously as he entered through the underground passageway. As he reached the facility, a large cat towered over him.
“And you must be Pepe!” the large cat exclaimed. “My name’s Barney. So sorry about the…. Err……accident with your father,” he said kindly.
“It’s fine, sir,” Pepe said quietly.
“I’m guessing you’ve heard of Cat Burglars of America, otherwise known as the C.B.A?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Well, then, let’s get to work!”
They started with intelligence. Pepe was……….acceptable. However, he was amazing at flexibility and skill in the fighting arts. Pepe was also about average in sneaking. Barney said he had to choose a teammate to accompany him on his mission. His mission was to rob a bank account belonging to a southern billionaire.
Pepe chose a feline named Shades as his partner. Shades was black with white splotches all over. She had hazel eyes as big as walnuts.
When they reached the bank, Shades hacked into the security and Pepe approached the entrance and then sneaked through. Once Pepe reached the right vault, he felt a big hand enclose around his neck and heard alarms sound.
He had been caught.
With a flourish, I set up my account. There was a mistake in my username, though, because someone else had used it. I decided to apply because the site was amazing, and there was a lot to do on it. With acceptable admiration, I had the approval of my new username. I had to admit: my username was adorable!
My friends soon decided to accompany me online, but I realized there was an accident in colors on my profile picture, so I quickly decided to adjust my colors. Smiling, I became accustomed to this username.
One day, as I approached an adorable puppy at the animal shelter, I knew I was going to have to adopt that puppy, but I had to have the adoption approved and then apply to get him. I adored that puppy ever since I had first seen him. He was a yellow Golden Retriever. He had fluffy and floppy ears. He had a little, black nose and a tiny mouth. I was one hundred percent sure and accurate that this pup would be just right.
A few days later, we received a call telling us that we would have an appointment to talk about adopting the puppy. When we received the call, I have to admit that I was feeling so good.
The next few days passed very quickly until it was the day of the appointment. When we arrived to the shelter, I felt great. When I saw the name tag of the person who I had spoken to about the appointment, I just stared until she got up and talked to me dad. The woman was of advanced age and had a British accent. When she stopped talking to my dad, she just walked away. My dad smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I knew the puppy was mine.
My mom had an appointment at the hospital. The nurse at the admitting desk spoke with a heavy accent and was hard to understand. My mom had been in an accident recently and wanted to make sure she received adequate medical care for her injury.
The nurse had to approve our medical insurance in advance. The nurse wasn’t sure if they were going to admit my mom. The nurse also needed an accurate account of how the accident happened. My mom told the nurse that when she went to apply the brakes on her car, she was hit from behind.
My mom’s insurance was acceptable, and the nurse told her they would be admitting her to the hospital. It turned out that my mom sprained her back and would need to stay in bed for a couple of days.
I was off to get my driver’s license and I had to apply for a driving test. I wrote my name down on a piece of paper and asked for approval to get in the car. I stepped inside the car and had to adjust to the shifting because it wasn’t like the car that I was used to driving. I was pretty accurate on my turns and it was apparent to me that I was going to pass, but then the instructor that accompanied me told me that if I was not adequate with parallel parking, then I would not get my license. I was not a smooth parallel parker, but it was acceptable. There was a long silence before she finally said that I passed.
I had accomplished a great achievement in getting my license, and I went home to tell my parents. Now it was time to go out onto the real streets. I got into my car and pulled out of the driveway. So far, so good. Once I got out where there were other cars, it wasn’t so good. I went across the intersection and… WHAM! Another car slammed into me and sent me out spinning. The windshield shattered, and I nearly flew through it! The person in the other car was unconscious, and I was in shock. The police arrived and asked if everybody was okay. We said we were and then had to call my parents to tell them about the accident. They came to pick me up, and I wasn’t allowed to drive for a while after that.
Mount Tambora (1816)
it becomes apparent from the plumes of smoke and the anything
but adorable sight of black ash, that Mount Tambora is erupting and
is accepted as one of the most colossal to appear in modern times. Without
technology to acquire the necessary knowledge to be accurate in predictions about the
eruption, the volcano’s adventurous smoke, blankets the earth and causes a summer-less year,
turning the world from the Big Blue marble we know and adore into the gray lifeless ball of soot, ash, and smoke
The Puppy Pandemonium
I approached the adorable puppy when it had an accident on my sofa. I didn’t know what to do. Mom was coming home in an hour, and what would I even say? Then I had an idea. I decided to apply a fabric cleaner to the sofa covering. I got worried that it wouldn’t be clean on time and I would have to admit that it was a mistake to let the puppy inside, and I know from personal experience that admitting something is extremely hard.
Twenty minutes later, the cleaning was done, so I put the cover back on the couch and I did an adequate job of cleaning it because it looked pretty acceptable for the damage that was done. When Mom got home I thought the accurate decision was to tell her the truth, so I did. Finally, we negotiated an accord that I would never let the puppy in again, and all was well.
The Video Game
I had just gotten my new game, and I was so excited to play it. I had thought it was a normal game, but I was clearly wrong. You see, I had been playing the game for a few weeks when one late night, I went to sleep and awoke somewhere completely unfamiliar.
I was accompanied only by silence as I stared in admiration around me. Since I had been playing the game so often, it was apparent that I was inside of the game. Everything was different, and it was hard to adjust to the new world. I had become accustomed to having many people around me, (I lived in New York City), so it was odd being all alone.
Suddenly, a loud, gravelly voice boomed, “In order to go back to your family, you must survive every level and accomplish the task of defeating Chub-a-lub, the boss.”
I advanced through the first levels quickly and easily, occasionally pausing to account for all of my limbs after a battle.
The final level looked only adequately hard, but once I spotted Chub-a-lub, I accepted the fact that my thoughts were far from accurate. Chub-a-lub was a huge samurai, and when I arrived in his level, I was dressed as one, too. I held a long, slender sword in my hands, and heavy armor draped my body. Time slowed down. I swung the blade, and like a drop of water, Chub-a-lub evaporated into thin air, just as he swung his sword.
I smiled at the fact that I had defeated Chub-a-lub. “Congratulations, you have earned your admission home,” the vociferous voice from earlier proclaimed. Then, my eyes popped open. Sweat dripped from my head like a leaky faucet. I sat there for a moment wondering if that had been a dream, but when I looked at my computer screen, it read “Game Finished!” I knew that this experience had been reality.
by Jordan R.
It was the year 2046 when Planet X924B, AKA Earth, perished. On that day, our solar system was corrupted by pollution and radiation, causing our sun to have a supernova. During this time, the supernova evaporated and destroyed our oceans, as well as all the other water and food sources on X924B.
As you can imagine, most of the people and animals were either dead from the supernova’s explosion or in comas or even dying of dehydration and starvation. Some people survived, but had fatal injuries.
The President of the United States was well-protected deep under the ground. Word got around through every crack and crevice that the government sent all sorts of bad stuff into space on accident.
I had a one in a million chance of survival. After I heard the news, I started heading south to see if I could find any survivors. As I started walking, I approached the dead body of an adorable little girl, no older than six. I stopped to think. Then I realized that what the government had done was not acceptable, and accident or not, they would have to pay!
Before the supernova happened, the government made a broadcast saying that rumors about sending bad stuff into space were not accurate, but I beg to differ. I continued my walk to the truth.
Our government had been adored by the people of X924B, but I do not adore the government; I pity them. The government had an appointment with me, and it was not going to be good. I wanted one of them to look me in the eyes and admit to me that this had not been an accident. What they did to repair their mistake was inadequate compared to what they could have done.
Someday, I will advance and fulfill my dreams of making the government pay for this disaster.
Stomp and Squeeze Fest
The appointment line grew longer and thicker to see Dr. Sweet Fruit, the most elegant grape stomper in the town of Watermell Ville. As I slowly approached this big-footed man I saw in his clutches, a flyer:
Please welcome all of your most GLORIOUS fruit squeezers and squashers
to the Annual Fruit Faire. This faire will be held in Vine Country, and
we will also be holding a juice off at this fine affair. So, please honor
your MAGNIFICENT juicers and bring them to this faire.
THE WINNER GETS THE PLEASURE
LARGEST AND MOST LUSCIOUS
The world’s largest mango! I must get my hands on that, but of course, I am not the greatest juice squeezer in town. I thought to myself as the doctor began talking.
“So, whatcha here for, missy?” he looked up at me with a wonderful grin on his fat face.
“Um, well,” I started to say, “Well, I was just wondering if I could just maybe go to the faire? Of course, only if you approve,” I uttered in an awkward, admitting tone, because of forgetting my thought in mid-speech.
“Well, of course you can!” he said in a jolly way, “Everyone can come.”
“I meant to be in the juice off,” I muttered under my fruity breath.
He looked at me with an ice cold, glowering expression.
“The juice off? Only pros go to the juice off. I mean, you’re not a pro…” he implied to me in a harsh, yet still somewhat friendly voice with a slight accent.
I frowned in disappointment as he spoke the words I wished I never had heard, and then I walked away.
It was the day of Fruit Faire, and I was a little bummed out because I knew I wasn’t admitted to the juice off.
As it began, I watched our town’s juice off members walk on stage. There; there were the juicers: Muggsy, C. Apple, and Pomegranate. Where was Leaves? I was thinking about where he could be, but then I heard a sobbing voice behind me.
“Lilac, Lilac!” cried a frantic voice. “Lilac, it’s me, Dr. Sweet Fruit, and I thought maybe you could fill in for Leaves. He came down with a terrible flu and had to stay home. Please, Lilac, please.”
I was overjoyed and rejoiced!
“Yes, of course!” I cried out in happiness.
As the contest began, all the contestants began stomping on grapes and squeezing ripe figs just for practice, of course. The real deal was when the best contestant from each team came up on the stage to stomp off their bottoms.
After all the very accurate choices were made for the finals, it began. The town of Meowcow’el Gatos’s finalists arrived there on stage. Maloney Kitty was in that group. In the city of Sugarcane came Wee Sugar. Last, but not least, my town, Watermell Ville, sent their team member on stage, and guess who the finalist was? It was…I, Lilac!
The contest went well because I learned that winning is not always best. Even though I didn’t win, I feel great about my acceptable victory in placing second in the stomp off. Furthermore, you should know that the second place is awarded a prize, too, and my prize was a not giant, but a small and rather adorable mango to eat.
Click, click. Tap, tap, tippity tap! Thump thump, thump thump. Clip, clack, click clap! These are the footfalls I hear every day, the footfalls of rich, heavy, normal, and pompous people. But the sound of my feet connecting with the pavement is deathly silent, for I am a poor man’s daughter, and am I light, lighter than air.
Apparently, the lines of the Merryweathers (that’s my last name) were once quite wealthy, that is until the Great Depression came, and the town no longer had a need for chocolate sweets, or ropes of licorice, or other such fancies. As if it weren’t enough that the family business was failing, my father passed away from a disease when I was still at a young age, leaving my mother accountable for my well-being, as well as leaving us penniless.
Soon, we grew accustomed to the harsh life of being poor, and we even accomplished the feat of acquiring for ourselves a cheap, but drafty street-level apartment. Some days my mother would accompany me on walks in the park, but she had severe back pains, and most days, she couldn’t even get out of bed. I was twelve at the time. It was on one of the days when my mom’s back hurt especially badly that I had a stroke of luck while coming home from work at the grocers.
I had a steady clip to my walk coming home from work that day, so I almost passed by the smiling face of George Washington on the piece of a circular, shiny coin. I absolutely couldn’t believe my good fortune! For, there on the sidewalk, was a perfectly good twenty-five cents. Ten cents was the admission for a movie, with enough left over for a small bag of popcorn and a soda! Boy, I could just taste that perfect blend of saltiness and melted butter of the popcorn! The second bonus was that since I was near the theatre anyway, it put me in an advantageous position to get there early and be first in line! But, wait, should I ask for Mother’s approval first? I pondered the question over in my mind.
Finally, after much debate, I decided to go ahead with my plan. After all, it isn’t every day you come across a quarter. Shortly, I neared the theater, so I paused to adjust my hat firmly upon my head and to smooth my rumpled and windblown skirt as best I could. As I prepared to enter the theatre, movement caught the corner of my eye. It was a small boy pressed against the corner of the building, trying to keep warm on this blustery afternoon. All the while I stared at him, he stared dolefully back. Then I realized that he was in a predicament worse than mine, and at that second, I knew what I had to do. Glumly and reluctantly, I handed over my precious quarter. In the moment the quarter passed from my hand to his hand, all of my dreams of the going to the theatre flew away. I managed a weak smile to the boy, his eyes as large as saucers, before I headed home.
Nobody saw this small act of kindness. Nobody acknowledged it, but I didn’t need someone’s admiration, or sweet smile, to know what I did was right. After that day, I changed. I thought of others before I thought of myself, and I had never felt as good as I did that day I gave my quarter to someone who needed it more than I.
From a Crook’s Perspective
In life, you have probably run across articles or television shows about how crooks almost always go to jail and are ominous people. Well, you got the ominous part utterly right! But, not all crooks reside in jail. To avoid going to jail, it takes advanced skill. Accurate timing is also a key to breaking and entering. Did I want to be known as “Brook the Crook?” No, the response is negative, and yep, I said it: “Brook the Crook.” If I could have majored in something other than being a career criminal, I would have. But, blissful endings do not always occur when you are the daughter of the “King of Crooks.”
It was a complete and utter accident! I did not mean for the school to go on lock-down due to my hideous looks. I may have an adequate aptitude in stealing, but boy do my looks make kids flee! I am diametrically opposite of adorable. So, when I was lured into attending a very important person (V.I.P.) project for my nephew’s class, I flamboyantly sauntered onto the school’s playground trying to procure my nephews attention. Instead of descrying him, other kids detected me first! They caterwauled and yipped all across the playground! Before I knew it, I was the V.I.P., AKA, the “Very Illegal Person.”
Why can’t I look and act like a typical twenty-six year old should, I conjectured to myself? As I drove home in my beat-up van, I remembered how my father was going to be an unwanted visitor to the store, “Dazzle Me…Jewels.” “Dazzle Me…Jewels” was home to elegant rings and a whole lot of bling! I had to admit I was pretty delirious about bombarding “Dazzle Me.” Maybe, I would not be a fool, but get the jewels. I would have a shot to finally be sublime in my looks!
Twelve o’ clock struck, and we were ready to strike, too! As we met in proximity to “Dazzle Me… Jewels,” I applied an electric green substance onto my petite hands, in case the jewels were well secured in their cases. With the substance on my hands, I could touch the rings, and they would slip right off the display! According to my dad, being sly would not fly! He liked the adrenaline rush as the sirens were approaching and police came chasing after him.
My Dad had a southern accent, which irritated him to death because people would not take him seriously, including me! But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he wasn’t going to take any chances! I could see it in his eyes. Tonight, he would strive for the best rings and other bling jewelry! He needed to succeed and wanting was an understatement! As we pulled up to “Dazzle Me…Jewels,” he would not let me tag along. With the outcome of this “take no chances mission,” I was overjoyed that I didn’t tag along. Why, you might ponder? Well, he might be my dad and all, but he is not the quietest crook in the world. Did he get arrested? Well, yes, as a matter of fact, he did. Do I miss going on adrenalin-pumping adventures with my dad? I’ll just say that I can live without it! Now, my dad and I both have problems of our own to solve. My dad is someone who has a very loyal friend, but this friend refused to bail him out of jail again and again and again. My problem is to transform from a Very Illegal Person to a Very Important Person!
The fresh snow was everywhere; right then I knew Christmas was approaching! I adore Christmas the most of all holidays, but Santa I know will surely never grant me my only wish. My one wish is for parents of my own, parents who will take me from this place where I live with twenty-three other children of all ages, in this foster care home called “Save A Life.”
None of the other children have the same wish as I nor do they know my wish. My birth parents had me on accident. Because of all the things they’d done in their past, they thought I’d be a miscarriage, not a healthy baby. They gave me up, and now I sit here in a smaller than twin size bed. I admit I don’t want to be here. It’s truly the worst place. I have had neither one doctor examination nor even one dentist appointment since birth due to the economy and how expensive it would be for the home management to accommodate medical visits for twenty-three children.
Every Christmas, I have the same wish. I don’t know why Santa hasn’t granted me this one wish. I’ve had acceptable behavior throughout my whole four years of living. Everyone knows me here. Despite my young age, I am the only accurate typist. Adults come in and out of my foster home yet they always leave with a new family member that isn’t me. Lots of teens say I’m “adorable.” They come here and ask for job applications every day, teens and adults alike, new people come in and out applying for the job here. According to my foster mom, Briella, who owns this home, the teen applicants must have an advanced score in working with children—more than ninety-six percent on their test; then she’ll approve.
Christmas is a day away. We’ve yet to have any prospective parents or job applicants visit today.
Tick tock, tick tock, the clock is ticking; it strikes twelve o’clock! It’s now Christmas, and Santa comes at night!! My boring usual day goes by, and soon, it is eight-thirty P.M., my bedtime. The next thing I know, I wake up at seven-thirty A.M. I open my eyes slowly. People are standing by my bed, looking at me anxiously, with adoption papers in their hands. “Hello, Sweetie, I’m going to be your new mom,” the woman, Jane, utters.
I am speechless. Santa has finally made my wish come true! My adoption certificate says “Adopted on December 25, 2010 at 7:45 by Jane and Fred Smith.” This is the best Christmas gift ever—a family.
The Meaning of Friendship
I woke up excitedly. “Mom, Dad, may I go out to the Magic Willow and take my test?”
“Yes, honey. Good luck!” my parents replied, smiling.
Today was a special day for me. My ancestors were great singers, and I planned to follow in their footsteps. Every elf in our village who wished to become a singer would have to take a test. The Magic Willow was a spiritual tree who gave you advice; it was well-known in our village. Mom and Dad ACCOMPANIED me to the Magic Willow; then left. After all, the elf taking the test must take it alone.
•Edward’s point of view•
I woke up, yawning. “Hmm… I wonder how Iya did on her test.”
Iya had been my best friend since we were little. We were inseparable. As I greeted my parents, I left the house and trotted to the Forest of Aia, the place elves stay when they have ACCOMPLISHED the test. Iya was there, wiping her tears off her usually shining face— but this time, her face wasn’t shining. “What’s wrong?” I frowned.
“I didn’t make it, Edward.”
“You didn’t!?” I was shocked. Iya looked away sadly.
“Their loss.” I looked off into the distance.
“I should get going,” she whispered.
“No, wait—” But I was too late. She was gone.
•Iya’s point of view•
After dinner, I trotted up the stairs and into my bedroom. I sat down on my bed, tired as ever. I lay down and fell asleep. In my dream, I was on a mountain. The pine trees were covered in something white. I couldn’t make out what it was…
I jumped. “Who’s there?”
A middle aged woman wearing an elegant gown appeared. She looked like a queen. “You failed your test.”
I looked away, tears streaming down my face.
“I could share my powerful abilities with you, and I could make you an ACCOUNT on the Exceptional Singers website.”
“But I’m not an exceptional singe—”
“You could be my daughter. A princess. You could be able to sing. Just agree, and all your wishes may come true.”
I nodded in an ACCUSTOMED manner; for I always did what I was told, and I was willing to become a princess.
“Prepare to forget your past! Your loved ones!” she shouted out.
“NOOOOOO!” Iya shrieked, as she was knocked out by a powerful knock out spell.
•Edward’s point of view•
In my sleep, I could hear screams of “NO!” and “LET ME GO! EDWARD, HELP ME!” I woke up in a flash. “Iya…” I flopped on my side, confused, and was woken up later that morning by Mom.
“It’s snowing!” I looked at her with a puzzled expression.
“What does snowing mean..?” I muttered. I walked outside and froze. The ground was white, and the trees were white.
“What..?!” It took me a few minutes to ADJUST to the cold weather, but the sight of snow captivated me with ADMIRATION.
I ran swiftly to Iya’s house, and walked in. “Iya, it’s snow—” But Iya was nowhere in sight.
“Young boy, don’t you know how to knock?” Iya’s mother scowled. “And, who’s Iya?”
“Mrs. Pendragon, it’s Edward! Iya is your daughter. How could you not remember her..?”
Iya’s little sister, Rain, ran up to me, squealing, “Let’s play carnival! I wanna be the ADMISSION guy!” But I ignored her. I ignored the glee-filled kids throwing snowballs as I walked past them, to the Magic Willow. It was ADVANTAGEOUS for me to consult with the Magic Willow about why it was snowing before setting out on his journey to find Iya.
“Magic Willow, what is happening?”
And then, the Magic Willow responded – with silence.
“TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING!” I yelled. “TELL ME WHY IT’S SNOWING; TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO IYA. TELL ME, TELL ME!”
Two eyes on the tree were readily APPARENT as they slowly opened. “Young boy, your friend is in grave danger,” the Magic Willow whispered. “You must save her. The Queen… the Ice Queen took her… as her daughter… the princess… and will soon absorb all of her powers when the time is right.”
I gaped as a black hole formed on the willow. The Magic Willow’s eyes were filled with APPROVAL. “That’s it; step in and save her.”
I stepped in cautiously, determined.
And at that moment, Edward knew that the true meaning of friendship was to always be there for a close friend. And that, my dear friend, is just how Edward’s adventure begins.
To be continued…
It was the day of my job interview. I truly wanted to accomplish my goal of becoming a teacher. When I arrived to the school for the interview, I learned that I would accompany other people who wanted to be teachers to the interview area. I asked the principal from whom he received approval for this type of interview process, and he said the superintendent had approved it.
The principal made the rules apparent. I couldn’t believe that I’d never before heard of this type event because there was an admission booth so that people could watch. I had to complete fifty math problems, then I had to write a paragraph about myself, and then I had to create a fun art project and then run to the finish line. If I won first place, I would get the teaching job.
“Ready! Set! Go!” shouted the principal. I was on the fiftieth problem when my pencil broke. I had to adjust my pencil by sharpening it. Luckily, it didn’t take too long. The broken pencil put me in third place. I did the paragraph in no time. The art project was challenging until I thought of creating a paper snowflake that I learned how to make in third grade. When I had to run to the finish, I had good shoes for running, and the other closest competitor was wearing high heels. The running shoes were advantageous. I won the race, and everyone from the crowd showed me great admiration. I would need to become accustomed to all these people around me because soon I was going to be around a lot of kids.
After the race, the principal told me that I had to make an account on the school website. I had become the new sixth grade teacher at McKinley Elementary School!
“What is it!” yelled Michael in his European accent.
Michael was Johnny’s dad. Johnny’s mom and sister were out shopping for clothes. Michael raced into the living room, adrenaline rushing through his veins, to see an adequate amount of raccoons on the velvet couch asleep. They looked like a bunch of little burglars taking a small nap. One of the raccoons awoke to the noise, opening one little beady eye, and then the other. The raccoon hopped onto the hardwood floor; then continued to advance forward. As it started to approach Johnny, Michael examined the raccoon carefully, and then noticed it only had three legs.
“Daddy, I named this one Chester,” said Johnny as the raccoon grew closer and closer. Suddenly, as it was walking, it started to apply too much pressure to one side, causing it to fall. As soon as the raccoon fell, Michael picked up Johnny, ran to the bathroom, and locked the door. “How did they get inside the house?!” shouted Michael angrily.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to. They looked cold outside, and I felt bad so I let them in. It was an accident,” whimpered Johnny, admitting to being a part of the raccoon invasion.
Michael called his wife, and they reached accord about calling the exterminator. Once he called, the exterminators said they would be at the house in five minutes.
Ding, dong sounded the doorbell. The exterminators had made an accurate prediction; they were right on time. Michael answered the door and led them to the living room. “They’re in there,” he whispered as he tiptoed away.
The exterminators caught the raccoons and put them in a cage, but as soon as they went out the front door, they dropped the cage, and the rodents scampered away down the street, towards another house.
“Aaaaahhhhh!” shrieked a woman down the street.
“Oh, no!” exclaimed one of the exterminators. “It’s going to be an extraordinary day.”
The Dog Who Meant Everything to Me!
It was on a rainy day in December, and I was six years old, when I decided to build a fort in my living room. I was finally done. I was just about to go enjoy the fun of the fort, but then I saw my dog, Bella’s, face, and I knew she wanted to come, too, so I approached her slowly. I swooped down to pick her up when…I saw blood! I realized that Bella had bitten my face, and the blood was coming from my eye. I started to scream and cry, and then my dad rushed over…I needed his help.
After my dad helped me up, I had to apply a rag to the wound on my eye. He ran towards my dog and started to discipline her, but I then heard a bloody terror. All I could see was my dad running after my dog. One of his arms went back and I saw his thumb, blood dripping from his hand, and skin torn off the top, right under his fingernail. My dad thought the two bites were uncalled for and not acceptable, so he called to make an appointment with a vet. For now, we had to put Bella outside in the backyard so she could not harm anyone else.
The vet came to our house the next morning. He was young and nice. My dad and I had to show him the bites that Bella had given us. They were deep, and he recommended that we see our doctor.
“You better keep that dog outside. It appears that dog cannot be around children, so it has to stay outside for now. We will find the dog a new home with older folks,” the vet suggested.
“Dad, you can’t take her away. I adore her; she is what I live for, my best friend!” I yelled at my parents. “It was only an accident, please,” I begged, starting to cry.
They looked at me, disappointed and sad. They told me, “We need to find her a new home. We are so very sorry.” I have to admit, I did not want to give up my dog, my best friend. However, I was afraid I was not going to change my parents’ minds.
The next morning the phone rang, and it was Mr. Smith, the vet. I heard my mom say, “Thank you, Mr. Smith, I am sure Bella will have a nice new home,” She said this with a gentle tone in her voice, and through the phone I could hear the vet reply, “You are so welcome. You two made an accurate decision.
Bella’s last day with me was the saddest day ever; there was no fun. All I did that day was sit and watch, press my warm face against the cool glass door, and gaze at my puppy’s adorable face licking the glass and wanting to come back in, but the rules were clear. I could not play with her or love her up.
It was a sunny day in September, and now I was ten years old. I was curious about something and went to approach my mom. I asked her what happened to Bella. You could tell she was speechless and had trouble admitting what had happened. She sat me down and we both cried. She told me that Bella was in heaven with all the other dogs. “We had to put Bella to sleep.” The vet had told my mom and dad that she had a brain tumor and would not ever be well. It was the most difficult news that I have ever had to hear.
I miss Bella, and I wish she could be back with me right now. Sometimes I wish I did not pick the runt of the litter. Maybe this would have never happened. I will never know. The one thing that I do know is she was the best dog for the year that I had her. I am so happy to have such great memories of a dog that was loved so much!
The first day I brought you home it was Halloween
We sat in the red, shiny wagon as the dads pulled us
My hands bundled in your fuzzy, warm fur
You, who were my best friend,
You, who got a brain tumor
You, I wish you were still here
You, whom I adore and love
I wish you were back in my arms on that Halloween Night
You, who will always be there in the sky when I need you
YAY! Today was the annual Petaluma fair! My best friend, Justen was going with me to the fair. We had everything planned out. First we would go to the fair and look for some delicious food to eat while we were watching the circus. Then we would go to the Little Caterpillar ride, the Big Caterpillar ride, and then the Swirl of Doom! However, then came the twist: Justen and I would tell my parents that we were going to the bathroom. When we reached the bathroom, we would sneak out to ride the roller coaster of our lives. We were going to go on the Madman! My parents told me I wasn’t allowed on the ride until I was thirteen years old, but I guess thirteen was going to have to adjust to twelve.
When Justen and I went to the fairgrounds, it was nothing like I had imagined. There was no circus, and there were ginormous lines for every ride except the Madman. So I guess we just came to the fair to accomplish our mission. We told my parents that we had to go to the bathroom. They said to go ahead, but we had to pay for admission first. So after we paid, Justen and I went to the bathroom, snuck out, and got in line for the Madman.
We waited centuries and ages for our turn to finally come. I was worried about what our parents would think because we had been gone to the bathroom so long. I then checked my watch, and it had only been five minutes.
I had an admiration for the lady who was running the roller coaster. She almost looked like my favorite actress, Meghan Fox! Apparently, she started looking at me like I was crazy so I stopped gazing at her. She told us that we had to have the approval of our parents or else we couldn’t go on the ride. Quickly I pointed at something right behind the lady.” Look, isn’t that dog just adorable?!”
That was our cue. Justen and I dashed past the lady and sat in our seats. We quickly put on our seat belts and waited for a different lady to check if our belts were tight enough. HAHA, I knew girls loved dogs, so I had created the perfect diversion. When a different lady came to check our seat belts, she asked how old we were. I started sweating, and then Justen replied, “Fourteen.”
When the ride started, Justen yelled at the lady that he was only twelve, but the ride kept going. If Justen wasn’t accompanying me, I would have had an accident because I was so petrified! We were just about to drop down on the ride when the ride abruptly stopped. We were suddenly going backwards to our destination. When we arrived there, we had to get off because the second lady had actually heard Justen saying that we were only twelve.
So we both had to go home and were grounded for three weeks. I don’t know why, but I felt like we had accomplished our mission.
Chickie the Chicken
Cluck, cluck. Chickie, the plump, healthy hen, roamed the barnyard. Then she heard a familiar noise. She turned around, looked, and it was her sister, Lily, with her adorable chicks. Then she turned around again to hear another familiar noise. It was the farmer’s daughter, Fern. It would be accurate to say that Fern was a very helpful girl. She often did extra chores of her own accord.
Suddenly there was a loud noise coming from the house. It was Fern’s mom. “Don’t forget to apply the ointment on the rooster that got hurt yesterday,” cried Fern’s mom.
Fern started to approach the chicken coop. She was afraid that when the rooster saw her, he would advance towards her and attack. He did this sometimes.
When she opened the door, he rushed towards her and bit her finger. Fern started screaming and ran toward the house. As she did this, Chickie ran after her to see where she was going.
As Fern was admitting to her mother that she had gotten scared and had not put the ointment on the rooster, Chickie hopped up to the window to look inside the house. Chickie liked to listen to Fern’s mom when she spoke because she liked her British accent.
Fern’s mother helped Fern clean the wound on her finger. She put a band-aid on the wound and told Fern that was probably adequate and her finger would be fine now. Fern’s mother was nice and didn’t even get upset when Fern knocked over the antiseptic bottle by accident. She told Fern that she would help her catch the rooster.
As they left the house and headed toward the chicken coop, Chickie hopped off the window and followed them.
The Pet Store
I was thrilled about going to the pet store today! I was either going to buy a puppy or a turtle. I leaped in the car, and my mom drove to the pet shop. Vroom! The car pulled up to the pet shop, and I ran inside to look for the puppies and turtles. They had the most adorable puppies! Then I saw the turtles. There was a large tank filled with mountains of turtles. I could not decide which pet to choose. My mom did not approve of me getting a turtle so I chose the most playful puppy I could find. I asked the pet store manager how much the puppy cost, and I could not understand him because of his accent. My mom understood the manager, and she thought that the cost of the puppy I chose was very acceptable. He was soft, fluffy, and a licking machine! He was a dog that was easy to adore. Even though I wanted the dog and the turtle, I had to admit that my puppy was the best choice. I named my puppy Fluffy, which was an accurate description of how he looked.
Fluffy had to get his shots so my mom scheduled him an appointment at the vet’s office. Afterward we advanced to our car with our puppy and all of his stuff. The crate that I bought for him had adequate space for his size, and Fluffy slept well in his new crate. I woke up that next morning with a small box sitting by my bed. I opened it and there it was a turtle inside. I was so excited that I screamed! I wanted to apply my new pet care skills to taking care of both of my new pets. First, I had to deal with Fluffy because he had an accident in the house. I realized that Fluffy had urinated on my brother’s backpack, and I had to wash it or my mom would accuse me of not taking care of my pets.
I made my new turtle a little tank right next to the dog’s crate. I set my turtle down, and he slowly made his approach to his tank. He was moving as slowly as one hundred snails, but I let him move on his own accord instead of picking him up. Finally, my turtle walked up the ramp into his tank and plummeted down into the water. It was easy admitting that I loved my turtle. I knew that I would have my hands full taking care of two pets, but I was in heaven!