Trees

Trees. Lifeless; but loud. Unresponsive; yet knowledgeable. The way all of them, except things with open arms. No one had ever told them what to do. Let alone how to do it. And yet they survive. So tell me, why do trees sit here content with the world, when everyone else has a problem. People are always changing the world; making things “better”. Thinking that it will give them some sort of fulfillment or achievement. Trees die, every year, and yet they sit there, at ease. Knowing things will be better in the spring. People need to realize happiness is not a thing or a destination. It’s not somewhere you can go, and it’s not something you can change. Happiness is a feeling, and if you would just stop a moment, and let life take you where you need to go, and trust everything will be better in the end. You would experience that feeling a lot more often. If you could just be a tree, happiness will come to you. Be a tree, and believe me, everything will be okay.

A Monster Lives Inside Me

Author's Note: I am currently sick with a little cold, and it's getting a little annoying. But I decided to make the best of it and write a poem about it.. or him I guess. Hope you enjoy! 

A monster lives inside me

Cold, dark, and mean

A monster lives inside me,

And it’s killing me you see

It’s powers make me weak

And it’s laugh makes me frail

All throughout the day I hear,

“Honey, you look pale”

A monster lives inside me,

And it makes me cough and moan

A monster lives inside me,

And I’m pretty sure it’s grown!

Mommy tells me to take a nap

And that I need more vitamin c

I blow my nose for the millionth time

I’ll try sleeping, and we’ll see!

A monster lives inside me

All day long I try to kill it

A monster lives inside me

When I cough it throws a fit

Mommy gives me medicine

And I curl up with a blanket

Mommy comes to tuck me in

And gives my head a pet

A monster lived inside me

But when I woke up he was gone

A monster lived inside me

He didn't stay that long

Today I had to go to school,

But none of my friends were there

The monster stayed with them today

That is so unfair. 

Dave

Authors note: This is  prediction piece on the book, What Happened to Goodbye? There’s a part in this essay where it mentions a “4 a.m. so just so you’re not confused, the definition of 4 a.m.is someone you can call and count on t be there for you even if it is 4 in the morning. I think that covers everything so, enjoy!

Mclean of the book What Happened To Goodbye?  By Sarah Dessen has been anything but herself. She has been the drama queen, the head cheerleader, and the student council president. Every new school comes with a new personality, a fresh start. But, now that her mom is remarried and it is only 8 months until graduation, Mclean finds herself with friends, and a personality that is actually hers. The question is, will she stay? Has being torn away from so many different homes left her incapable or trusting people? And are these new friends capable of being her 4a.m.? I think she will start to put down roots in this town, and I think Dave is going to be the reason why.

Dave offers a comforting aroma. One that Mclean can be herself in. From the very first night Mclean had arrived he was different. Not a bad different, a good different. A different that Mclean could relate to. Dave has family problems too, and he himself had switched schools a couple years back in hopes to ditch his kid genius status of his. I think the fact that Dave and Mclean have this in common will bring them closer together and make Mclean start to understand other people, and that sometimes, it’s easier to have a best friend, than not have to deal with friends at all.

Not only is Dave different, he stays positive as well. He finds ways to encourage Mclean to open up, and stay for as long as she wants. There is a scene in the book where Dave stops by with a pot of chicken noodle soup to help Mclean feel better after getting clocked in the face by her locker earlier that morning. And after taking a  few bites he decides he needs more Thyme. He opens every cupboard and cabinet to find that every single one is empty, except for one, and that one contains a mere 4 bowls, 6 drinking glasses, 2 mugs, silverware, and a couple cooking pans. After teasing her for the lack of kitchen supplies her and her dad own, Mclean confesses that since they move around a lot, being a minimalist is really the easiest option. After all, how often do you use thyme anyways? Later that night, after David had left, Mclean hears knocking at her back door. She opens it up to find a bottle of Thyme and a note sitting on her back porch. The note read: Just in case you decide to stick around. I think that this made Mclean feel welcome. And it made her feel important, as if someone actually cared if she stayed or not. And I think she will fall in love with this feeling, and decide to put down some roots.

The last reason I think that Dave will be the reason Mclean stays, is that in other Sarah Dessen novels that I have previously read, boys have helped girls come to terms with life problems. In the book Along For The Ride a young boy named Eli helps Auden cope with her parents’ divorce, and in the book The Truth About Forever Jason helps Macy realize that life isn’t always about test scores, and that sometimes it’s nice to take a break, and have fun. This is why I think in the book What Happened To Goodbye? Dave will be the one to help Mclean realize, that it’s nice to have friends. And that being yourself, really isn’t as bad as it seems.

So all in all, as cheesy as it seems, I think the boy will save the princess from her friendless tower, and bring her into the real world of being herself. And even if they don’t live happily ever after, I think Dave will change Mclean, for the better.

My Ending

I walk in on my dad and the news lady sucking face. My first reaction was to be disgusted, but after I let it sink in, all I felt was disappointment. My dad never get’s attached, unless he knows he has to leave. This way, it can never turn into something serious, and he can’t get hurt because either way, he is the one to go. I make a noise and they both look up.

“Having fun?” I asked crossing my arms. 

“Mclean!” My dad clumsily stands upward and stables himself on the edge of the couch. “I didn’t think you would be home just yet..”

“It’s fine. Don’t let me be a bother. I’ll be upstairs.” I walk away and take the stairs by two. There are so many things I want to say, but there is no one to listen. Dave pops into my head, and I force myself to forget him. What was the point of getting attached? Although it was only 5, I put my pajamas on, and crawl into bed. There, under the covers, I start to cry. I thought this was the life I wanted. I thought that if I lived like this, I would never have to get hurt. But, what I hadn’t noticed before was, being torn away, is even worse than having to stay. I cry. The sobs never seem to end. And by the time I was done, I was close to eight, and I was exhausted. I fell into a deep sleep, not wanting tomorrow to come.

I wake up at 3:34. I stare at the clock. 3:35. 3:36. Time keeps passing and I need to stay up. I have too. 3:37. 3:38. Finally I can’t take it anymore. I dial his number. It rings five times and finally he picks up.

“Hey... McLean?..?”

“I know it’s not 4 yet but” My voice cracks “ I was hoping you could make an exception..” He laughs a little on the other end.

“ Mclean, what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m moving again” By this time I was crying, hard.

“Your what? Already?”

“I don’t think its official yet... but, I know it’s soon.” We talked longer, and finally he had convinced me to go to sleep, and that everything would be okay.

In the morning I wake up to bacon frying. It was the most unusual thing. I look at the clock, 9:32. Dad should be at work already. I slowly walk down stairs.

“Dad?” I ask. He stops whistling

“Good morning Sunshine!” He says smiling “Eggs over easy or scrambled?” I stared in awe. This was not my dad. My dad is not a morning person, and he defiantly doesn’t cook.

“uhh, scrambled,” I say sitting down. “Why are you in such a good mood?”

“Well,” He beginnings “My boss gave me a new assignment in Hawaii he says! We leave next week! It will be so much fun!” My face goes blank, and he notices.

“You don’t have to come,” he says busing himself, “You can stay with your mom..”

“I don’t want to stay with mom. I want to stay here.”

“Mclean Hawaii will be so much fun! It will be  a great experience! You never mind moving”

“Dad I’m so sick of moving. I want to stay here. I like it here. “
“Mclean, it will be the last time we move before you graduate, it will not be that bad. “

“Dad I’m not moving.”

“Yes you are!”

By this point we were screaming .

“Stop! I don’t want to move!” He slammed a pan down, picked up his coat and left.

I stayed in the kitchen, not sure what to do. Then I walked up stairs, packed a suitcase, and went next door. I knocked softly. This wasn’t a good idea, but I’m doing it anyways.  The door opened and David appeared.

“I was just about to come over,” he says “I could barely understand you last night” He stopped talking and I stare.

“Come with me please.”

“Where?” He asked

“I don’t know, I just I need too” He cut me off.

“Mclean I would go with you anywhere.” He smiled and grabbed my hand. He pulled me to the garage, and opened the door for me. And from there we drove. I don’t know where we are going, or what we are going to do. All I know is I was going to stay. I was going to stay here, with the people that made me happy. With Riley, and Opal, and Heather and Kim. I was going to stay with Dave. 

Kate's Brother... I Mean Jesse

Authors note: I wrote this piece to show my understanding of character analysis. I did not include how Jesse is similar to another character. Jesse is similar to Haymich from the hunger games because they are both covered up by these titles. “The Winner” and “The brother of the girl with cancer” No one takes the time to find the real them and they become sick of it. They both resort to drugs, and scandalous behavior.  Another thing I didn’t include was how Jesse influenced other characters. I think Jesse’s negative attitude influenced Anna to realize how her family really worked, and opened her eyes to reality.

Jesse Fitzgerald is 17. He’s a spitting image of his mom, he loves music, and he’s a lot smarter then he looks. He’s good at art, he used to watch Sunday cartoons every Sunday, and one time, he tried to dig a hole all the way to China. There so many things about Jesse that the world doesn’t know, because the fact that Jesse’s sister is sick, is all that seems to matter. Even his parents seem to forget about him. And I think, this is why Kate being sick, has changed Jesse for the worst.

Being the sibling of a cancer patient can be harsh. And living in a family, where sickness is all you talk about, isn’t really a healthy environment for a 4 year old to grow up in. When Jessie was four he was an average boy. Sweet and caring. When his mom wakes up late he informs her that he has already “eated” breakfast and had made some for her as well. But, through the years that Jesse was lost. And a new Jessie slowly began to form. I think the day this new Jesse arrived when was when he was 10 or so. His mom had promised him that they would go to his orthodontist appointment and after, she would take him to go buy a pair of new baseball cleats.  But, when he told her it was time to go. She told him his sister was sick. Jessie responded with “Yeah Kate’s sick, but why don’t you grow up and realize the whole world doesn’t revolve around her?” And he was right. His mom did need to realize that. And when she didn’t ,  She left Jesse devastated.

Eventually this new Jessie got larger. He continued to grow and grow. But, it really hit its growth spurt the Christmas eve of when he was twelve. That night Kate had gotten sick, so is parents had shipped Jesse off to the neighbor’s house. He not only had to spend Christmas without his family, but he had to spend it watching strangers have the family he always wanted. He eventually got sick of the sympathetic looks, and snuck back over to his house. There, he cut down a tree, put it up, and decorated it all by himself. Content with what he had done, he fell asleep. In the morning he found presents under the tree, and gladly ripped one of his open, only to find a toy truck from the gift shop of the hospital. He open present after presents. Each one held a little bit of disappointment, and a trinket his parents had found on the way home from the hospital that last night. He felt forgotten and abandoned. Not to mention, no one said a word about the tree.

Now that Jesse is 17, the new him is full grown. He has reached breaking point. He find himself thinking about things that most kids his age, don’t. One day, Jesse took an adventure in his car. He rode to the highway, and cranked up the speed to 95 miles per hour. He thinks to himself “On my license it says I’m an organ donor, but truth is, I would consider myself to be an organ martyr”. But, I think Jesse expresses himself best when he thinks “I’m much better dead then I am alive” The little boy that played and laughed, is now thinking that he, doesn’t deserve the chance to live.

Throughout the novel a whole new Jesse is created. A little monster created by need and attention.  A little monster, caused by Kate’s cancer. They need to bring the old Jesse back. A Jesse, who is good at art. A Jesse who loves Christmas. A Jesse who once had enough ambition to attempt to dig a hole, all the way to China. 

Fahrenheit 451 Conflict/Resolution

Author's Note: This is a conflict resolution piece of the book Fahrenheit 451, I was kinda lost on this so if you have any feedback, feel free to comment!

Guy Montag of Fahrenheit 451 is different. He thinks different, he acts different. He sees different.  He has been different since the beginning, but only when he encounters a young girl named Clarisse does he realize it. Clarisse asks him questions no one has before, and really makes him think. She makes observations about things that no one else seems to notice. She invites intelligence into the insipid world he is living in.  And Guy thinks, People should be more like her.  Guy soon starts to get frustrated with how his society acts. They don't act like Clarisse, and he thinks this is because they don't read books.Guy thinks that books will benefit his society and everyone in it. They have intellectual  thoughts, and ideas. Things that no one he knows would  even take the time to think about. Guy starts to steal books.Turns from a humble server in his society, to a belligerent criminal on the lose. The conflict in this book is person vs. society. Guy is fighting society for the right to read books. 

Mr. Montag has some struggles. His house gets burned down, his wife betrayed him, and he was almost killed multiple times. But, in the end the conflict is resolved. Guy enters a new society. One where books are allowed, encouraged even. Each member of the community commits a book to memory and passes it down from generation to generation. This way, when the real society is ready for books again, Guy and his companions will be ready and waiting. If he had not run away he would have lived a  miserable life with his wife, who doesn't even care about him.. Even though guy is different, there is a place where he fits in. And that place, is with books. 

I Love You Tan-Man

We have known the Juenger family since forever. Most pictures we have involve at least one of the Juenger boys. Tyler, being 17, is a year older then my brother Evan, and year younger then my brother Austin. Conner and Colin-the twins- are 11. Only two years older than my brother Carson. And Tanner,  was closest to my age. Being only a year older than me, we were best friends, and spent majority of our childhood together. As we got older we started to drift apart. Which was understandable. Boys got cooties and while I was interested in dolls and hair, he was interested in football and cars. But I wish we hadn’t drifted apart. You see, Tanner was born with half a heart. More specifically hypo plastic left heart syndrome. I remember there was a girl in my class that had the same disease. But, she functioned better then Tanner did. And while she stayed healthy, Tanner didn’t.

                                                                ___ ___ ___ ___

I stood in front of the old box television, watching a new image pop up every few seconds. I remember being irritated. Thinking, the few seconds they showed each picture was not enough. The screen faded to black. And suddenly came to life again. Tanner and I appeared on the screen. Yet another picture that I didn't remember. It was a hot day...I assumed. I was dressed in a pink swimsuit, and Tanner sat beside me. Our hair was both beach blonde, and the sun had highlighted it to the point where it was almost white. I was laughing as I reached into a plastic cup to grab a piece of ice. Tanner licked his fingers beside me, with a calm expression on his face. He was always eating. "Remember that?" My mom touched my shoulder gently "You two were best friends". My throat closed. I didn't know what to say. Should I lie; tell her I did? Or should I admit that these pictures meant nothing? Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and started slowing dripping down my checks. Guilt came over me at an overwhelming pace. I racked my mind for things I could remember; things I could cling to. His pasta salad was the best, I thought. We used to do his mom's hair. More tears formed. He loved the bears. I shut my eyes tightly. Why couldn’t I remember? My mom took my silence as a time to leave. She gave me a tight squeeze and slipped away into the crowd. I was grateful for the time I had to myself. I opened my eyes in time to see Tanner and I disappear. Only to see us again, in a different setting. This time we were both in a stroller. It was summer again... the 4^th of July to be more specific. I had pigtails that had obnoxious bows, just like everything else I wore as a child.  I was smiling at Tanner, and although it was hard to tell under his nooky, he was smiling back. It looked like we were having fun... when did that stop? Why did we stop playing together? At what point did I decide I was too cool to hang-out with him? I glanced to the other side of the room. Something I hadn’t had the courage to do since I got here. But, soon enough my glance turned into a stare. Tanner. He lay motionless. His eyes closed, and as pale as the winter snow. As much as I never wanted to see him this way, I had too. And, as much as I didn’t want to say goodbye, it had to happen. I stood in line, feeling like a small child in a world of confusion. I let my head droop.

Dear God,

I’ll never understand why you chose Tanner. Why you took him away, when all he was, was good to you. I know, he won’t be sick up there. And he can do all the things he couldn’t do before. But, everyone here wishes they had had more time with him. Including me. I took him for granted. I don’t remember most of the things that happened when we were friends. And it makes me sad to think that there will never be a chance for me to become friends again... Take care of him please.

                                                     

                                                                                  Amen.

A smile spread across my face.

One last thing... make sure you stock up on the food. You’re going to need it.;)

One last tear rolled down my face as I walked up to Tanner. I said my goodbyes, and slowly walked to the phew. Leaving Tanner behind left a bitter sweet taste. Yes, it was hard. But, deep down I knew that somewhere in the future there would see him again. And I couldn’t wait for that day to come.

I love you Tan-Man

Re-Telling Uglies

When Tally Young-blood turns sixteen, her licence is the smallest of changes. What she's more interested in is the surgery that turns her ugly self into one of them, a pretty. If she knew that behind every pretty face lies a secret. A secret that only an ugly can begin to comprehend.

My Scrapbook

     Authors note: We were assigned to find a  quote and then we had to write a piece to explain what the quote was supposed to mean. My quote was "Glory only gives herself, only to those who have always dreamed of her"

 When I was nine, I was determined to make a scrapbook. I asked for supplies for my birthday, and I took pictures at every social event that I possibly could. I thought it would be the coolest thing to make one all by myself. I don't know why I was so obsessed at the time but I was. It might have been me wanting to be independent, or even just having the sense of accomplishment once I was finished. Me being able to look through the book when I was older and praise the talent I had as a child. But, that scrapbook never happened. The supplies gradually got lost, or pushed under my bed. And, the pictures I took never got taken form the camera and put on paper. This scrap book that I thought was going to be so easy, turned out to be insanely difficult. That scrapbook could have defiantly happened if I had wanted it enough, but the truth of the matter was I really didn't .The idea was cool, but I wasn't thrilled about the actual effort you had to put into it. So, when I first read the quote "For glory gives herself, only to those who have always dreamed of her"-Charles De Gualle, this little project of mine was the first thing I thought of. If I would have tried harder, and worked longer my scrapbook would defiantly have been the coolest thing ever. But, I gave up. I guess its true, if you don't want it enough. Your never going to achieve your goal. "Glory gives herself, only to those who have always dreamed of her" 

A Disease

Being ugly;  It’s a disease. And we all know it. You look at magazines and envy every girl that is prettier then you. We tell ourselves beauty is determined on the inside, not the out. But, in the society we live in? That’s defiantly not how it works. People judge you. Your weight, your height, your hair? It’s all wrong. You feel sorry for yourself. You buy make-up and expensive clothes to cover the revulsion. But none of that can fix the way you’re eyes are too close together, the way you’re nose is too big, or the way you slouch because you are awkwardly tall. But wait! There’s a cure! The answer to your prayers! The day has finally come!  You’ll be as stunning the girls you envied! All you have to do? Change your personality.

Tally Youngblood lives in a world where ages 12-16 you are called an ugly. Nick names are made to taunt you with your flaws. “Squint” was the name she was tortured with for 4 whole years. But really, it was fine. The day she turned 16, everything would change. Wouldn’t it? That’s how it worked with everyone else! They take you in and cut you open. Grind your bones for the perfect shape, make your lips bigger, eyes wider, the whole shebang! Soon enough she would join all the pretties, and she can’t wait. She was going to be beautiful, she was going to leave “squint” behind and move on with her new life as a “pretty” . But, as Tally is forced on an adventure, she soon discovers that this operation doesn’t only involve appearances. The doctor’s insert a tumor in your brain. This tumor takes away any sense of rebellion, or opinion you ever had. Sure, mac n’ cheese is still your favorite food, and you still love the color pink. But, the stuff that really matters? You just don’t care anymore. You’re vulnerable. You refuse to think different then what you’ve been told. And Tally is granted a choice. She can either run away with the other people who escaped, and never turn pretty. Or turn pretty and have her brain get toyed with. The answer seems obvious. But is it really?

In fact, the more you think about it, the more questionable you get. If you were to turn Pretty it wouldn’t be that bad would it? You would have tons of fun, you would get to be with your friends, and you would get to of course, be pretty! So what if you didn’t care about important stuff? Less for you to worry about, right? Why would you ever want to go live with… ugly people? People will treat you with respect if your pretty. You won’t be judged on your looks, only on your personality. It’s kind of hard to see the flaws in the plan that these people have created. Turned everyone pretty seems to be the perfect solution to everything. If you were to stay ugly you would have to live without all the modern technology. You would have to actually make stuff yourself! Then there’s the fact that you could possibly get caught when you escaped. And last but not least, you are stuck being ugly. What part of not being a pretty sounds fun? None of it. So why when I read this book, why did I feel it was the right choice for Tally to stay ugly? Why did every time she thought of actually going through with being a pretty, did I secretly wish she would change her mind? For some reason staying ugly seems to be the better decision. You get to completely be yourself, and you get to do whatever you want without the city telling you otherwise. Maybe flaws are what makes everything interesting.

Tally is faced with a tough decision. And when I read the book I always try to put myself in her shoes, and think what the right thing to do is. When I first started thinking, I could honestly tell you that being pretty seemed like a reasonable choice. Everyone else turned pretty, why shouldn’t she? But as she met new people, and actually experienced life where you can accept yourself for who you are, I really hoped that Tally would make the decision to stay ugly. Even if it is a disease, It’s a disease you can live with. A disease that is fun. A disease that lets you…well… be you. 

Boy' s In Love...Oh joy

 Author's Note: This was a required piece for our whole class, and I got assigned to write from the point of view of a 13 year old boy that's in love. So to all boys I apologize if this is defiantly NOT how you feel, and I am sorry that the whole story is extremely cheesy, but hey, I tried!

     I kick a rock as my feet drag across the ground. We have walked home every day since I could remember. We were those kids that never really understood the whole cooties thing. We were always best friends, and it didn't occur to me until now that it might be kind of weird. Now was when all the kids started pairing off into couples, and I started to wonder;  could we be a couple? I don't want to make things weird between us. "That math test today was so hard!" I take my gaze off the ground and stare at her. Before now, I noticed the color shirt she was wearing, and how her hair was done, but now I realized that their was so much more. Her eyes are bright blue, her hair had sun streaks in it, left over from the baseball games we played this summer. I stared at her lips as she talked. She was so pretty. Before I could think I leaned in. Hopefully she wants the same thing.

Father Of Horror Stories

     Edgar Allen Poe is the "Father Of Horror Stories". In his books he  talks about talking ravens, deathly diseases, and crazy lunatics. For some reason Edgar has an extremely creative mind for unhappy stories. What could have happened in his life to make him think of this? Is it just something he was born with? Or did Edgar experience something awful that triggered the thoughts that inspire his stories?

     Edgar was born in 1809 to the parents of Elizabeth and David Poe. Given that both David and Elizabeth were actors Poe never got to see much of his Parents. Eventually Edgar's father left, and Elizabeth was left by herself with three children.  Unfortunately when Edgar was only two years old, his mother died, and him and his siblings were alone in the world. What remained of the family was to be separated and sent off to different homes. The eldest brother was sent off to the grandparents. The little sister was sent off to a family that volunteered to take her in,  and Edgar was to live with the Allen family. This, is where the stories begin. Edgar was abandoned at an early age. Both parents had vanished before he was even old enough to develop memories. The only home he knew was the fake people that clamed to be his family. Then, once he was old enough to actually understand everything, he was sent off to boarding school. He was alone, and by himself at the mere age of six years old. Abandonment is such an easy plot line for writing. My theory, is Poe figured that out.

     Later, when he was grown, Poe decided to attend the university of Virginia. And, even though the Allen's were wealthy, they refused to pay for all the cost of college. Edgar was lost, and the only option he was left with was gambling. He needed the money, and there was no other way. Eventually Edgar ended up like almost every other gambler.  Broke. Now, not only did he not have enough money, he had no money. Edgar made is way back home distressed and miserable. All he had left was his fiancée, he hoped that all would turn out well, but alas, his soon to be wife had moved on to better things. He had lost every chance of happiness he had. He was heartbroken and depressed. His solution? Writing.

     After his fiancée broke his heart and left him in the dust, he decided to was time to join the Army. He had no job skills and no money, this was his only option. As many know war is not a pleasant place. People die, body limbs fall, friends disappear. Dangerous things can happen, and they can have dangerous outcomes on your personality. Nightmares, ghosts, and depression soon start appearing. Maybe this is why some Poe stories contain so much violence. Not only did he experience death in the army, but soon after the subject of death hit home. Mrs. Allen dies, and Mr. Allen in attempt to be nice toward Edgar had agreed to pay for the tuition to West Point College. This is where he starts his writing career.

     Edgar had a hard life. His parents died, his adopted parent's  abandoned him, the love of his life left him, and he had to experience all of the awful things that happened at war. I think that all of the things that happened to Edgar all played a small roll in his writing. I think all of these things were just little stops on the way to being the "King Of Horror Stories".

Plummeting

     Tears fall. Plummeting towards the ground, I cringe. Footsteps appear behind me. I wipe the tears and gaze in a different direction. How could I let it get this far? A cold hand softly lays itself against my back. A wave of anger washes through me. My eyes narrow into slits, similar to the ones on my wrists. Thoughts swirl in my head until a quick slap throws me back into reality.

     I feed on her fear. I live on the nervous sweat, the desperate looks, the cries for help. I gently drag my finger across her spine. She drops her head. I know what she is thinking, and I know exactly what she wants. Something she will never be able to have. She is mine now. No matter how hard she tries, I know she will never be  strong enough. She will never be good enough. She will never beat me.

     He takes the ropes in his hand, and fiddles with them. I stare with hope, although he has done this so many times before, I can't help but think maybe I can beat him. Maybe just once I can make him happy. Maybe I can be better. But, as always, he let's the rope slip through his fingers.He leaves, but I know it will only be for a moment. I have to work fast. I turn around at unlatch the window, the ropes made It difficult, but I managed. I propped the window open and stood there. It was time. I let my weight fall backwards. I have never felt more free then the moment I took my own life. My body surged with pain. You're not good enough was the last thing I heard, before everything went black.

The Man In The Yellow Hat

The mans yellow hat blinded me as I stood beside the new road being built. A woman in a blue blouse stood beside me, her eyes welled up with tears as she realized this was her daughters road. She had died in childbirth, or at least that's what I assumed. She walked beside the road, an soon it met up with a new road, and then many more. These were the people In her life. Her dad's road was first, her dad's road was the first intersection. Signs of advice were put up every mile or so, restrooms and gas stations were set for breaks, only when they were needed. "Excuse me, sir?" the woman beside me asked. The man looked up and smiled, giving her permission to go on. "How long is this road exactly?" "67 miles" The woman's face light up. 67 years. Her daughter would have a long happy life. I closed my eyes and walked away. Why was my road so messed up. Pot holes, bump, and staggered edged where what my life was made of. And to add on to that, mine was only 13 miles. 13 stinkin' miles. None of this was fair. Why did he chose me? Why did my road have to end? I walk farther, I'm going to my favorite roads.  First stop, Anna Fitzgerald.

     I remember when Anna's road started. I remember the rush everyone was in. This, was one of the only roads that the man in the yellow hat didn't plan. He didn’t have much time to work on it. Of course, the parents had already planned certain genetics for the child (or at least that’s what I heard anyways) I didn't really understand how this worked until I had asked one of the men that lived up here with us. "You see," the old  man mumbled "This girl has a sister" It still didn't make sense. Almost everyone has a sister, that didn't change anything in their life…did it?

 "Why does it matter if she has a sister or not?" I asked.

 "Not just any sister, she has a sister with leukemia. " The man answered. I still didn't understand. What's leukemia? And why does any of this make this new road so special? "Leukemia is a type of cancer. It's killing her sister, Kate. Kate needs lot's of blood and body parts that other people can't give to her because they don't have the same body type. So, her parents decided to have a baby. They made sure that this baby was the same body type as Kate. This new life: Anna, Is being made to save Kate." All of this was starting to make sense, but not completely. I tucked my hair behind my ears as I frowned in thought.

 "So," I began "If Kate wasn't sick, there would be no Anna road?"  The man shrugged and considered this for a moment.

 "I suppose that is true." The speakers crackled behind me and everyone went silent.

"WORKERS. AS SOON AS ROAD236-ANNA FITZGERALD IS FINISHED, EVERYONE REPORT TO ROAD453-KATE FITZGERALD TO HELP MAKE HER ROAD LONGER." Everyone gasped. Whispers made their way thought the crowd. No one's road was ever made longer. Ever. Okay I thought. So, the man in the hat had not planned for this new Anna road, but it had to be made. So, because this Anna road is being made, that means that the Kate road was going to be made longer. This was all getting just a little too confusing. This new Anna road is just messing everything up. But, it really got my thinking. Next stop

Katniss Everdeen. This road is new, the Katniss girl really isn't supposed to even be a road yet. This road was planned years, no, more like decades in advance. Why this was I wasn’t exactly sure. I think it's because she's "important" if you know what I mean. Like umm…Like George Washington, I bet he was made before everyone else too. But, even if Katniss's road was new, and not walked upon by the person intended, it was also one of the most challenging roads. Everywhere you looked, something had gone wrong. The roads where hilly and not very level, bumps, curves, holes, everything you could imagine is happening. And, where did all of these problems begin? These problems began when her Dad's road ended. I walked a little farther and started to understand her road. "Umm, excuse me sir, do you know this road?" The man smiled

"No, she just happened to grow up in the same district as me. She is going to do wonderful things." He explained.

"Like what?" I wondered out loud.

"Well," He began "Katniss is going to grow up in District 12. This is the worst district there is. The only thing district 12 has is poverty, oh and coal mining, don't forget coal mining."

"Poverty and coal mining. Got it."

"So, when Katniss is around 13 per say, her Dad dies."

"Did you walk this whole entire road!?" I exclaim.

"Of course, it is quite interesting, but back to the story. Around her teen years her dad dies, and her mom just gives up. She doesn't support her family, she is too caught up in the loss of her husband to realize that life is still going on around her, so, Katniss takes control. Katniss hunts for the family, she buys the food, the put her name in the reaping more times so she can receive more food from the capital.

"Reaping?" I asked.

"I'll explain that later."

"Okay"

"Now, since her Dad is gone, and her mom might as well be dead, Katniss has to be the keeper of the family. She has to stay strong, she has to learn how to survive on her own. Little did she know, she was in training. She was in training all because her Dad died.

"Training for what?" I asked I didn't understand. What could someone possibly train for? All they have is Poverty and what was it? Oh yeah, coal mining.

"The hunger games of course!" I gave him a blank stare. He has got to be kidding.

His excitement faded as he realized I had no idea what he was talking about. "Oh yes, your one of those olden day gal's aren't you?"

"Umm…I guess that's how you could put it. So, since I'm "old" could you please explain what these 'Hunger Games' are?"

"Every year there is a "reaping" this is where kids over the age of 12 enter their names in a contest sort thing. The choose one boy and one girl from each of the 12 districts."

"So, do they get a prize or what?" I asked

"Oh heavens no! What happens is they train these kids, and then they put them into an arena and then they have to well, umm.. Fight to the death."

"Fight to the death?" I mutter under my breath

"Basically," he says "They kill each other until there is only one person left standing. Actually well in this case there are 2 people left standing because they are from the same district. Does this all make sense to you?"

"Yes, I think I'm starting to understand, but what happens to Katniss? Does she die"

"No, no, she wins, do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because her dad died." Said the man.

"But, sir, her dad dies so many years before she was in these hunger games. I don’t think her dad dying affected the outcome of the game, right?"

"Wrong. If her dad didn't die she wouldn’t be so good at hunting, and shooting, and most of all surviving on her own. If her dad didn't die she would just be the average district 12 girl. And what happens to average district 12 girls? They die. " I was starting to understand. Everything that happens has a consequence. I can't believe I was JUST starting to realize this. One more road to go, Logan Thibault.

I love this road because Logan is always here. He tells me his story every time, and it always just amazes me. I wish I could have had a love story like that. "Hey Joanie!" Logan yells from a bench he was sitting on. " What are you up too?"

"Nothing really, just taking a walk. I was just wondering if you would" Logan cut me off,

"Tell you my story again?"

"Please!" I said in the sweetest tone I could muster.

"Sure" He laughed under his breath as he said it. "Well, here it goes. I was in war, when I just so happened to find a picture of a girl. I carried it with me everywhere I went." I listened intensely while Logan kept talking. He talked about how this picture became his lucky charm, and how all of his friends thought it was the weirdest thing. He talked about how his best friend victor had told him to go find the girl that was in the picture, so he did. Right then Elizabeth walked in, this was the girl that was in the photo.

"Logan, are you telling stories again?" I laughed.

"Why yes I am my dear"

"What on is it this time?" she asked with a smirk

" The one about you of course!"

"Well, if you wouldn’t have found that silly little picture of me we never would have met! Isn't that hard to believe?" I couldn’t believe it.

"Hey Logan ,Beth, I think I'm going to leave! Thank-you for  the story!"

    I never realized how big little details could be. The man in the Hat must spend forever on just one road! It's like putting puzzle pieces together. Every cause had an effect. And as I walked into the setting sun, the thought occurred to me. Everything happens for a reason.

The Tell Tale Heart (POV)

Authors Note: I am writing a creative piece about the Tell Tale Heart. I am changing the point of view to the polices point of view. I think the police is very reliable because he is mentally stable (unlike some other people) and he is a police man so he must have had to earn trust from some one. The story will change immensely   when you switch the point of view form the crazy man, to the sane police officer.

     We arrived at the house. It had been late at night, and the neighbors had heard a scream. I sighed. There had been so many calls similar to this one, and all of them result with a nightmare and a screaming awaking. I force my self to start walking as I catch up to my  partner,  we walk up to the door and knock. The house was large and elegant, and yet, somehow seemed old, and forgotten almost. The side of the house was grown over in weeds. The house was not well kept, but that is not a crime, and not something  I need to think about. I knock again as I realize how long I had been waiting. This time the door flew open and light came seeping from a lantern.    "Hello sir, sorry to bother you so late in the night" I said like I've said so many times before. The man smiled. It sent chills down my spine.

"It's not a bother" The man said, still keeping the giddy appearance. Something didn't seem right.

"A shriek had been heard by a neighbor in the night; suspicion of foul play as been aroused; information has  been lodged at the police office. And they had been deputed to search the premises." Man, I hates talking like that.

"Oh yes, come in. The shriek was my own" the man stated, "in a dream. The old man I mentioned is absent on the country. " I shivered, the man was still smiling. My other partners didn't seem to notice. Maybe it is just me I though as I took a step inside. I will just ignore the feeling until evidence is found.

"Do you mind if we see the house? Just for rule purposes. Everything seems fine, but we always need to be 100% sure."

"Of course! Of course! Come! Come! I will show you the old mans room!" The mad man said as he swiftly made his way up the stairs. The rest of us followed. He must have not anything to hide for how confident his stride is, I thought. We mustn't stay long I whispered to my partners, there is more work to be done, everything seems fine here.

"Oh rubbish!" Said one of the men. If the man invites us in we come in! Everyone needs  a break once in a while!" I sighed, this was true, I guess a few minutes with the man would indeed confirm he was, or wasn't guilty of any sort of crime.  We walked up top the room and the man had already places chairs out for all of us. Three close together and one farther away, secluded from the others. This seemed odd to me. But, I sat down reluctantly. Something tells me this man is ill. His eyes look like he has gone insane and it looks as if he had broken out in a cold sweat. I talk anyways. We make small talk in the beginning. We kept talking for at least a good half of an hour. Every second that passed the man seemed to get a little more insane. Repeated words, louder volume, more sweat. He seemed to be holding something inside, and finally he burst. Swears screeched throughout the room as the sound of a chair dragging across the floor stung your ears. The man had lost it. Me and my partners looked at each other. "Oh lord." 

A True Love Story

Author's Note: We were given an optional assignment for us to use superb word choice in a writing piece. I thought this would be a good idea for me considering word choice is not my area of expertise. The only problem is that I didn't have a plot line for this amazing word choice story,so I asked Marissa. She told me to write about a Cat names Jack-Jack, so I did. The plot line of the story just came to me as I wrote, but props to Marissa for the idea! I even named one of the main characters after her;) Marissa if you're reading this; You are very welcome. 

 

The mice torture me. They play with my mind. As soon as they disappear, they come back again, with one blink they arrive under your feet, as quick as lighting. I whimper. Never had anyone heard  of a cat, who was afraid of those ridiculously rambunctious rodents. My heart stops, the mice laugh at me. "What a cowardly cat!" they all giggle. I close my eyes as tight as I can, maybe if stay silent, they will leave me be. Unfortunately, my luck has run out. The rude little rats stay. They walks circles around me as I shrivel up into a ball. They are only mice. Stupid mice. One thousand mice could never conquer me. The almighty Jack-Jack. I tell myself this, but no matter how many times I repeat it, my confidence is still the size of a pea. Finally Hannah walks in, my eyes brighten and finally, hope appears. I jump into her arms, and she embraces me tightly. "Oh, Jack-Jack! Are the mice frightening you again?" Hannah laughs as she weaves around the mice. I blush,  everyone  knows that I'm afraid of mice, but only Hannah accepts it.

     I was born a few years back, in a barn if I remember correctly. It was a hot summers day and the sun was blinding. I was one in a litter of seven. There was Josie, Joy, Jonah, Josh, Jake, Jasper,  and the runt of the family, me Jack-Jack. Our family was quite the tongue twister. My nick name growing up was the Jack-Jack attack, which was quite ironic considering I was afraid of everything. The fish in the pond, the mice, thunderstorms, everything. When I was little, it was cute; I was a little kitten and I had not yet gained the bravery I needed for the what seemed far then, but near future. But, now I'm all grown up, I have no excuse to be a coward. By now I am supposed to have a family, but even the thought of that scared me. My mother has set me up on many blind dates by the hen cage, but I never attend them; the hens scare me. Sure, I would love to have a family, some kittens of my own. But, then I would be responsible for even more cats! And, I can barely take care of myself. Then Hannah bought the farm and everything changed. She cared about me, she didn't laugh at me when I got scared, and she understood me. Over the years I have come to love Hannah, she had gave me the love and respect I craved. But, now everything is going to change. My heart stops as she whispers in my ear.

"Guess what jack-Jack, we're getting a dog!" I whimper and look up at her. "What should we name her? Do you think we should so more J names? Or should we change it? Maybe... Maybe… maybe would should do V names! Violet, Victoria, Victor… No I don't like any of those… I think we should do more J's. What do you think Jack-Jack?" She is talking so fast I can't think. Sometimes the words just seem to slur together and that don't seem to make any sense. I try to listen to her talking but all I hear is "Jack-Jack, I'm replacing you with a new puppy, her name is going to be Marissa."

For the next week or so, everything scared me more then usual. Even the flies buzzing in my ear gave me the willies. The new dog would be coming tomorrow, and I still had no idea what I should do. Should I run away? Or should I tough it out? Who am I kidding, I can't tough it out. It was time to pack, I was leaving. I can not live in the same house as a clueless K-9, it will just be impossible. So, I venture out to the barn. There I find an old cloth for washing the horses, It will do. I bring my cloth back into the house and carefully lay it out across the floor. Next, I swiftly make my way to the kitchen to find my bowl. It sits in the corner, it is bright red with Jack-Jack written across the front. Tears appear in my eyes as I realize soon it will say Jack-Jack with Marissa written over the top. It was time to be brave. But, I don't think I can. I need to accept that my life is being ripped out from under me only to be replaced by a new one. I think about all the things I will miss as I load my food onto the cloth. A tear drips down, and dampens my fur as I tie up the cloth to make a sack. I needed to leave, and fast. Hannah would be home any minute with the new puppy. I take one last look around as I make my way over to the door. But, it's too late. The knob turns slowly as I realize what is happening. The door opens and I freeze. My escape was not going to work out. And, to be honest I was rather relieved. The door opens as a puppy's nose peeps through the door. I stop and stare, waiting for what's to come. The door opens fully as the whole puppy appears before me. The world seems to stop. Her fur, it looks SO soft. Her nose looks extra wet. Her eyes, Oh her eyes! They're as blue and the fish in the pond, they're as dangerous and the bird in the barn, she's as beautiful as a nap on the windowsill. I never thought I would say this. I am in love with a dog. Boy, this is going to be interesting...

What If We're All Pretend?

The universe. There's planets, people, stars, animals, everything: More then you could imagine. But, that's just it. Is it really more then something our minds could just muster up? Is the world we have just for fun? Something someone created in their head when their world ceases to please them? What if everything we know is just a thought? What if our universe is just a brain cell? Your life, could just be a little piece of imagination. What if we we're  all pretend?